AN: This is Rory and Logan's wedding night after they got married post-AYITL. Rory is 27 weeks pregnant. Logan has a bunch of tattoos on his chest and back in this.
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"Where are we?" Rory asked, as she stepped out of the plane, having not even recognized the name of the airport in question. It was already dark outside, and they were hit by a much different temperature breeze than the day before, a light scent of jasmine and salt in the ear. "I can smell the ocean...," she noted, after sniffing around like a dog for a moment.
"St Lucia," Logan finally decided to answer.
"Wow," Rory exclaimed, having not quite expected the Caribbean. Florida - maybe, but especially since Paris had gone into early labor she'd become a little hesitant about traveling anywhere far or less-developed in case something happened. But the scents, the sights as they moved towards the customs, were definitely rising the corners of Rory's mouth, awakening that curiosity in her that had always been in her when she traveled. She wanted to experience the places, the people, the foods and so forth. And truth be told, while she had been to several countries and places with Logan before, they only ever really talked about traveling like this and exploring places together. This wasn't Asia, but it was a small step in the right direction.
However, with Logan there - she felt safe even without the added assurance - and she should since Logan had picked this island specifically because there was going to be an ACOG conference on the island, which meant that technically they had all the OB's they could want right there for any emergency scenario. But he too hoped that there would be no need for that since Rory had been doing so well and gotten an all-clear to fly. Besides, the island was also on a recommended destinations lists for babymooners, which they kind of were too on top of being honeymooners.
"Come on," Logan said, taking her hand, and led her through the customs after a brief passport check. He could feel her ring on her finger each time her hand was in his, reminding him how lucky he was.
They had a car waiting - nothing overly fancy but comfortable. The car took them perhaps 15 minutes away and stopped in front of a large two-story island-style house, where they were already expected. There was a woman and a man, the man dressed in a chef's outfit that welcomed them humbly - in a way that wasn't too intense, almost as if simply being the enablers rather than someone who required anything from them.
The place was lit beautifully in the night, comfortably decorated interior with an abundance of lounging and dining options on the first floor and the bright moonlight outside brought out the inviting pool in the back garden. There were no other sounds except the splashing of the waves in the background and those of a couple of tropical birds in the darkness of the night.
"This place is amazing!" Rory exclaimed, still in awe, as they walked through the building - high vaulted ceilings, wooden lacework all around its porches and verandahs. But since it was pretty late, she was whispering.
"Why are you whispering?" Logan teased.
"I don't want to wake anyone," Rory said, humbly. The place looked a little like a hotell, I guess - but definitely a boutique kind in that case.
"It's just us," Logan said, with a wide grin.
"It is?" Rory raised her eyebrows with surprise, having not expected that, and a smile soon snuck onto her lips. Though perhaps she should've guessed.
"Well this needed to be special," Logan replied, and pulled her close for a kiss, intertwining their fingers.
"I'm not arguing with that," she shook her head, innocently. She just wanted to feel like she was home - home was where Logan was, wasn't it?
There was a quiet knock on the doorway behind them - the woman from earlier wanted their attention.
"Excuse me, Mr. Huntzberger," the woman said, humbly.
"Yes," Logan replied as he turned, desperately wanting to correct her. The thing was that he'd gone and changed his name too. It was Logan Huntzberger - Gilmore now, but since his passport wasn't changed yet he couldn't really blame them for using the name he was born with. He wasn't planning on using the full hyphenated name in everyday speech, he wasn't about to correct people if they knew him by the former name for example, but it would say so on the documents he'd sign or the new contacts he made for example. It was something he'd wanted to do, almost feeling like it softened the image of him, differentiating him from his father as much as possible. Mitchum would've never taken his wife's name. It was also yet another thing to make them equal - she had his name and he had hers, and the baby would have the same name too.
"We've put your things in the master bedroom upstairs. Would you like me to unpack?" the woman asked.
"No, that's alright," Logan replied, just really wanting some alone time. Besides, this was just a week and a half and they hardly had a mountain of luggage.
"The chef has prepared a few cold meals for the evening for you in case you are hungry. They can be found in the kitchen. Also the fridge is stocked with everything you requested," she added.
"Thank you, that's great," Logan said, stepping closer to her and exchanged a few more words with her and tipped her. He'd gotten everything he needed to know. The arrangement was that they were to call when they wanted the chef's services and the cleaning would only happen if they weren't in the house. Their car service was a call away and they had someone to shop for them if they requested it. This was just about them - their time.
