Title: The Rules of the Game
Fandom: Gilmore Girls
Pairing: Rory/Logan
Rating: D
Notes: I was basically just playing with the two Gilmore drabbles here, seeing if I could write in this fandom (read: "being obsessed with Logan").  This one is set during "You Jump, I Jump, Jack" when Logan brings Rory the lantern, and I suppose it hasn't entirely been Jossed, although the complete 180 their relationship made after "But Not As  Cute As Pushkin" makes my earlier interpretation make a different kind of sense.  Whether it's less or more I've yet to decide.

The Rules of the Game

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“You coming?”

“I’ll be right there.”

But he lingers. He’s not sure why he lingers, but he does. It’s partially that he doesn’t need them thinking he comes when they call, like a lost puppy. But there’s a reason he doesn’t want to leave balancing out the reason he doesn’t want to go, and he realizes he’s searching Rory’s face.

He’s not sure, precisely, what it is he’s searching for. Jealousy? Possessiveness? A helpless, “oh, no, Logan, please don’t go” look in those big blue eyes? He knows before he looks that he’s not going to get any of the three. She’s already proven herself immune to his considerable charms, and she’s damned determined to do this reporting bit with no help from anyone, and she’s obviously not afraid to be in the middle of the woods by herself, so there’s no reason she should have any reaction to his leaving. But he searches anyway.

And she just stares back at him, silently, and it unsettles him the way she can talk a mile a minute and get more words into a single breath than anyone he’s ever met, and in the next moment be as utterly silent and still as a Zen master. It’s now that he knows he should scoot, because he’s never been unsettled by anyone before, and even the mild confusion she brings to him is dangerous in its potential to throw off his game. So he half stands, and he grins in his most insouciant fashion, and he chews with his mouth open, just to show he doesn’t care.

“Keep the light, Ace, I won’t need it.” And still she gazes up at him with no emotion other than a slightly quirked bemusement, like she knows the game he’s playing and she’s amused that he’s trying it on her. It’s possibly the most frustrating thing Logan has ever come up across, and he suddenly wants to kiss her very badly, because it’s so rare that people frustrate him.

But he is nothing if not self-possessed. So he heads off, hoping she’s watching him, and wondering if there’s a twinge of interest in that gaze. He decides there is. Or if there isn’t, there will be. After all, he is Logan Huntzberger, ladies’ man and man-about-town, and no one resists his smirk and artfully tousled hair for long.

…It’s a nice lie, but the truth is he’s fallen, and kicking desperately for air. She made him linger. She made him search. She made him break his own steadfast rules.

He’s doomed.

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