A/N: thanks for all the reviews. uh, for this chapter, imagine rory's costume as claire danes costume for the ball in the 1996 baz luhrmann's romeo and juliet. because thats what i took it from. :-) enjoy and review.

"Logan, you have to go. It's my family's annual costume ball tonight. If they see you here, you'll be used as a centerpiece. For multiple tables." Her voice was frantic, nearly shoving him down the trellis.

It was a week after his argument with his father. They had woken that morning, and she consoled him, her voice soothing to his ears. He had felt better after he had slept, though he couldn't believe he had been so rash as to go to his father as he did.

Her parents had come home the following Tuesday, as she predicted, and everything returned to normal. Her mother went about like a wild chicken trying to finalize the plans of their famous masquerade ball.

Rory pressed something into his hand as he moved down the trellis. "This will get you, Colin and Finn in." She looked back to her door to make sure no one was coming. "Wear a mask or you'll ruin everything."

"Dramatic much, Ror?" He held the paper in his hand and looked at it. The engraved calligraphy, black cursive writing.

"I'm serious, Logan. You might not think it's that big of a deal, and if you don't want to come than don't. If you are going to be an ass about it, don't come."

He looked up at her, his face serious. He knew that socialite's sons would be lining up to dance with her, he knew how important this whole extravagant event was. "I'll be there. In a mask." He reached up to kiss her quickly and she pushed him down.

"Go! It starts in an hour." He climbed down and jumped the last few feet to the ground and she closed her window quickly.

Her mother came in quickly, already in her Marie Antoinette costume, complete with corset and wig. "You haven't even showered, yet? You do know that people will be arriving in an hour?"

"I've been busy," she said flatly.

Lorelai pursed her lips. "What are you going as?"

Rory pointed to her bathroom door where a hanger was draped over the ledge. A long white dress, with thick straps and bare shoulders, an empire waist dangled from the plastic. On an arm chair lay a pair of large white, glittery wings.

"An angel?" she asked disdainfully.

"I couldn't think of anything, but it's better than being the biggest slut of the eighteenth century with fake hair, right?"

She ignored her daughter's sarcasm. "Just make sure to do your hair or something."

"Can't I just borrow yours?"

She sighed at her daughter's lack of cooperation and rudeness. "Be ready in an hour."

Rory rolled her eyes and watched her mother waddle out of the room. She slammed the bathroom door shut and sighed, turning on the water. She climbed in the shower, dreading the night ahead of her. She tried to count just how many things could possibly go wrong, which, by her count, was a lot. More than a lot.

She got out of the shower and put on her bathrobe, now, more than dreading the night to come. More like extreme fear and loathing to her parent's insistence of a formal, costume ball.

She pull on her undergarments and pulled her dress over her head, the fabric falling to the floor in thin layers, making her look gorgeous, but simple. She moved back to her bathroom to do her hair, blow drying it straight and wrapping strands to be in a halo type braid, while the rest fell down her back.

She checked the time, and realized it was almost eight already. Time always went faster when you wanted it to stop completely. She pulled on her wings and didn't even put on any makeup, leaving her skin natural. She slipped on white flip flops that wouldn't even be shown from her dress.

Why did they insist on having this party so close to winter?

She pulled open her door, walking down the long hallway to the grand staircase. There, guests were already gathered, holding flutes of champagne and talking among each other. She could only imagine what they were saying. False things, fake smiles, none of it was true. Not a word, not a single glance, not a smile.

She processed down the stairs, ignoring the eyes that were on her, mainly from boys her age who were looking for something that she most definitely wasn't offering.

Her eyes locked on the familiar brown that only she knew so well and she smiled, ducking her head shyly at nearing him.

How convenient, she thought, glancing at his costume. A wilted version of Romeo, or so it would seem. A pair of, was he wearing tights? She laughed softly and his eyes narrowed and he knew exactly what she was laughing at.

He walked forward to take his arm before anyone else could. "Is that the thanks I get for saving you from hundreds of blood-thirsty hormonal boys? Not to mention, entering the lion's den, your house, to do this?"

She put on a face of mock pity, "Forgive me, kind sir," giving a curtsy. "Sorry, it only seemed appropriate." She laughed. "I can't believe you're in tights."

"I thought angels were supposed to be nice. You look beautiful, by the way." She blushed, lowering her head shyly.

Her face fell as she watched her mother come neared, pulling a young man behind her. "Rory! There's someone I want you to meet!"

Rory grabbed Logan's hand quickly, "Come on." She ran, pulling him along with her, back through the kitchen, her dress trailing behind her.

"So," he said, when they finally stopped, "So, it has begun. The auctioning of the precious Rory Hayden."

She shoved his shoulder. She turned when she heard other voices behind her, smiling when she saw Steph, Colin and Finn all bound through the kitchen.

"See, I told you she'd be here. And him, of course. I'm surprised they haven't killed each other yet," Steph was saying to Colin, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

"Hey, man," Colin said, clapping Logan on the shoulder. "I called your phone and you didn't pick up. So I just called your house but no one answered there, either. You're like a fricken ghost."

Logan shrugged, watching as Rory pulled a bag of chips out of the pantry. "These are really good," she said, her voice muffled and mouth full of chips.

He laughed, "I'll take your word for it."

They all turned to the direction of the foyer where there was a commotion.

"I'm telling you," a voice bellowed, "he's here. I will not stand for him to be with that-that whore anymore!"

"Who is here?" Rory heard her mother's timid voice ask.

"Logan."

Lorelai laughed a shrill laugh. "I think we would know if he's here. Now, please leave. You're disrupting our party."

"He's here!"

"The hell he is!" Christopher yelled. "Get out!"

Mitchum pointed in the direction of the kitchen where the teens could be seen. "There. There he is." He sneered at his son. "Next time, don't have your friends leave messages on your phone about the Hayden's parties."