I am so sorry that this chapter took longer to get out. It just wouldn't come out right and I'm still not happy about it. Oh well.

Reviews: Two hundred! Wow, you guys are awesome!

Enjoy.

There was a pause in all sounds as Rory pulled away a minute later, her hands still wrapped around Logan's neck. It took both of them a moment to register the sounds of a typical night; footsteps above them, the pounding bass from a nearby dorm. Neither of them was eager to lose all physical contact with the other, causing Logan to tug Rory closer to him. He stopped a millimetre from her mouth, hesitating, before lowering his mouth to hers.

It wasn't until nearly five minutes later when both of them were half-lying, half-sitting on the couch still attached at the lips that Rory realized what she was doing and pulled away again. Logan made a small noise of protest, his eyes still closed.

It was silence as Rory tried to reclaim some standing on solid ground. "I wanted to thank you for dinner," she finally whispered, pushing a stray hair away from her face.

Logan smirked. "I thought that that was what you were just doing." He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers again, pushing her back into the couch.

She let herself drift off into the kiss for a while before pulling away for the third time that evening. "We need to stop," she said, sitting up.

Those were, apparently, the magic words and Logan pulled away, sitting beside Rory on the couch. He didn't apologize for any of the kisses and she found herself thankful for this. She wouldn't have known what to say if he apologized for doing something that she had been thinking about since the last time he had kissed her.

"Okay," Logan said quietly. He didn't immediately get up to leave and for that Rory was thankful. Either that or terrified. She had no idea what to say to him.

"Tristan likes you," she blurted out before feeling the stupidity of her statement wash over her.

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's always nice to have a back up but you can tell Tristan that I prefer brunettes." Tugging on a loose piece of her hair, he smirked.

She rolled her eyes. "Smooth, Huntzberger."

Leaning back into the couch, Logan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I like you, Rory," he said quietly. "I told you that this morning and my feelings haven't changed since then."

"Actually you never told me that you liked me. You said that you wanted there to be an 'us' but you never mentioned liking me." Rory grinned, feeling relief spreading through her.

Logan felt a grin spreading across his face at her flippant words and he leaned forward slightly. "I just told you that I like you." He paused a minute and laughed quietly. "God, I feel like I'm in high school again." There was another pause as he thought for a minute. "You never said that you like me back."

Rory grinned, still filled with the giddy feeling that spread through her. "I like you back." She rolled her eyes theatrically although her mock annoyance was ruined by the smile on her face.

Logan leaned forward more and pressed his lips to hers quickly before pulling back. "Go out with me," he stated rather than asked.

"Yes." She leaned forward and kissed him, moving her hand until it was entwined with his.

"Tomorrow?" he asked when he pulled back to catch his breath for a minute.

"Tomorrow," she confirmed, kissing him once more.

-

Tristan tossed his wallet and keys onto the hall table, careful not to leave a mark on the antique wood and tried to stifle a groan as he noticed extra pairs of shoes in the front hall, knowing that that meant that his parents had people over. Tossing his shoes into the hall closet a little more violently than necessary, he made his way towards the dining room where the voices were coming from. He ran a hand through his hair as he heard a feminine laugh from the next room. Of course this had to be a set-up.

"Tristan!" Cynthia Dugrey was up in a flash with her arms around her son and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "It's so good to see you! I didn't think that you were stopping by until later."

Tristan looked towards his father who had stood up and walked over more calmly to shake his son's hand and shrugged. "Yeah but I realized that I needed to get back to school tomorrow and so I decided to come by earlier. Is that a problem?"

"No, honey, of course it's not a problem." Cynthia turned, hands on her hips, towards her husband. "Eric, why don't you go grab Tristan some dessert and coffee?" She turned back to her son as another thought entered her mind. "Unless you haven't eaten yet? There are lots of leftovers from dinner."

Tristan shook his head and took a seat at the table, surveying the strangers at the table who were watching him with interest. "I came straight from dinner actually." He nodded towards the couple around his parent's age and the girl who looked to be about his age. "I'm Tristan," he introduced.

Cynthia shook her head, disappointed in herself. "Where are my manners? Theresa, Allan this is my son Tristan." Tristan nodded again at the older couple and turned a curious gaze to their daughter, noticing that her mother's smile widened when he did. This was definitely a set up. "And this is their beautiful daughter Michaela."

Tristan smiled in return as the girl smirked at him. "It's nice to meet you," he said, running a hand through his hair and taking a seat as his father walked out of the kitchen, dessert and coffee in hand.

"It's nice to meet you too, dear," Theresa replied, beaming at Tristan before turning towards his mother. "You've raised such a polite son."

Cynthia gave an uncomfortable laugh, knowing as well as Tristan did that she had a small role in his upbringing. "Tristan was always such a good kid," she finally said, leaving out that he had been shipped to military school after breaking into a safe. Theresa didn't have to know everything after all.

"So," Eric broke in, noticing how uncomfortable the silence had become, "how's Rory?"

Tristan smiled, taking a bite of the cheesecake in front of him. "She's pretty good. She's pretty busy with school and stuff so we don't talk as much as we used to."

"Who's Rory?" Michaela broke in, tossing her black hair over her shoulder and smiling politely. Tristan could tell that it was strained, that she wanted to be here about as much as he did.

"She's Tristan's friend." Cynthia looked towards Allan and Theresa and grinned conspiratorially. "I'm sure you've heard of her, she's Richard and Emily's granddaughter."

Allan raised an eyebrow as he put down his coffee mug. "The illusive Gilmore granddaughter?" he asked with a laugh. "I've heard a lot about her from Richard but I've never had the honour of meeting her."

"She's whip smart," Eric put in. "I always thought that the Gilmore's were exaggerating about that but she gives me a run for my money."

Tristan shifted uncomfortably. He knew that Rory would hate being gossiped about even if it was in praise

Theresa raised an eyebrow and took a sip of the coffee in front of her. "I hear the Huntzberger boy has designs on her," she confided, looking at Tristan eagerly to see if he knew anything about that.

Cynthia turned a surprised face towards her son. "Really? Has she mentioned anything to you Tristan?"

He quickly ate the remaining bites of his cheesecake, knowing that he should be making a quick escape before polite after-dinner conversation become the Spanish Inquisition. "Actually I had dinner with him, his friends and Rory before I came here." He could see his parents begin to look interested in what more he had to say about that but before they could, he continued talking, inwardly sighing about what he was about to do. "So Michaela, would you like to come for a walk in the gardens with me?"

At his parent's triumphant grins, he had to squelch a grimace. The things he did for his best friend.

-

"So, I'll pick you up tomorrow night?" Logan asked, leaning against the doorframe and grinning down at Rory, enjoying the slight flush on her cheeks from their previous activities.

"I'll be here," she confirmed and, feeling bold, leaned up to kiss him quickly on the mouth.

As she pulled back, he raised an eyebrow. "You know that I don't need anymore incentive to go out with you tomorrow."

Rory laughed, tossing her hair behind her shoulders and enjoying the weight on her hips from Logan's hand. "Bye Logan," she said, lacing their hands together despite her words.

He laughed. "Trying to get rid of me already?" he asked but dutifully took his hands off her hips and began to back out the door. "I'll see you tomorrow night." He pressed a kiss to her palm and, with one last smirk, walked out the door and down the hall.

Rory sighed as she closed the door behind him. She was definitely way over her head. Making a detour to the fridge, she picked out a bottle of water before making her way towards the couch. Curling her feet underneath her and shifting until she was comfortable, she picked up the phone and dialled the familiar numbers.

"Hello?"

Rory leaned back against the pillows, preparing for a long conversation. "I've got a date tomorrow night!"

"That's great, kid! Who with?" Rory could practically hear her mother lean back against the pillows on her side of the line and knew that she had probably interrupted her mom's TV watching time.

"I told you about Logan, right?"

Lorelai laughed. "Nope, I don't think I've ever heard you talk about him at all. Oh wait, there was that one time. Remember?" she said sarcastically. "There was one time today, that is!" The line was filled with Lorelai laughing at her own joke.

Rory rolled her eyes. "Lame," she decided of her mother's attempt at humour.

Lorelai gasped. "You're lame," she replied childishly before sobering. "You left pretty fast last night, I was worried."

"Last night?"

"From the party?" Lorelai reminded her daughter slowly.

"Right, the party." Rory made a face, not wanting to admit that she had been crying over Dean and Lindsay's news and poured her heart to Tristan while Logan had been eavesdropping. "Tristan showed up for a surprise visit so I hung out with him in the pool house. By the time we had finished talking, the party was over." Rory was surprised at how easily the lie slipped off of her tongue. Previous to this summer, lying to her mother was something that she had neither wanted nor tried to do.

"So how is he doing?"

Rory shrugged. "Pretty good I think, if you ignore his girl problems."

"He has girl problems? Ooh, tell me, tell me!"

There was a pause. "It's kind of complicated. So, tell me what's happening between you and Luke."

As Lorelai began talking excitedly, Rory had to hold in a sigh. The last thing she wanted to hear about was her mother's love life. But she was even more uncomfortable about discussing Tristan's love life with her mother and in order to divert her from that topic, she had to pick something that she would be eager to talk to.

The things she did for her best friend.

-

Tristan watched the black haired girl out of the corner of his eyes. She was beautiful, he would give her that, but she hadn't said a word since they walked out the patio doors with their parent's eager eyes watching their every move. Walking aimlessly around was boring, Tristan had to admit, but it was better than suffering through a discussion about Rory's love life.

"What's wrong?" Michaela asked softly, breaking the silence that had engulfed them. "You look like you're in deep thought."

Tristan shrugged. "Just thinking, I guess. Sorry if this is boring." He waved a hand to indicate the gardens and the house behind it. "I just wanted to get out of there."

Michaela laughed and Tristan decided that he liked the sound of it. "I don't blame you. I've been stuck in there for almost two hours listen to your parents drop hints about what a great guy you are. Which I'm sure you are," she quickly reassured him. "But I don't need people telling me who to date or who to spend my time with."

He winced at the mention of his parents before smiling softly. "Yeah, I know the feeling. My parents are constantly trying to match me up with their friend's children. It doesn't matter who I'm dating at the time."

She nodded in agreement as they passed a small fish pond complete with goldfish. "I've been dating this guy for three months, my parents have met him and yet they still drag me to this dinner to meet 'a promising young man.'" She laughed sarcastically.

"Are you saying that I'm not promising?" Tristan asked, acting as though he were offended.

Michaela rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you are. However my parent's idea of promising is completely different from my idea of promising."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah, and what is your idea of promising?"

She laughed slightly as she gave him an appraising look. "Oh, don't be so offended. I'm sure that you're a fine guy in your own way. You're just… not my type."

Shrugging, he idly kicked a pebble down the pathway and then felt incredibly cliché for doing so. "It's not like I haven't been told that before. Don't worry Michaela," he flashed her a grin, "you won't hurt my feelings." There was a brief lull in the conversation. "So what is your type?"

"Seriously?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously."

A grin slowly spread across her face. "Okay, well my guy has to be slightly rebellious but not completely out of control rebellious."

"Does being sent to military school for breaking into a safe count as being rebellious?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Okay, I'll give you that one," she conceded. "He also has to be able to carry a conversation. An intelligent conversation," she added, looking at Tristan doubtfully.

He grinned. "I don't know about you but I'd count this as a conversation."

"I don't know if this is exactly intelligent but sure, I'll give you this one." She paused. "That's two for two Mr. Dugrey. Maybe there's hope for you yet."

"Don't act so surprised," he replied dryly.

She laughed. "Okay and he has to have a tattoo."

Tristan pouted. "And ruin my delicate skin?"

She smiled coyly. "Well I guess that's it then. You're no longer my type."

He shook his head. "Hold on." Pulling down the back of his shirt, he moved towards the light to show a black design on his right shoulder blade. Satisfied that that she had seen it, he let his shirt cover it again and grinned over his shoulder at her. "I guess I'm three for three now."

"What's it of?" she asked once they had begun walking again. "I couldn't quite make it out."

He shrugged at her a tad sheepishly. "I'm not sure exactly. After I graduated from military school I got unbelievably drunk and woke up with it. It killed too," he added, pouting.

"Poor baby," she said sarcastically. "Anyway, there's one last thing that my type has."

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Okay, prepare to meet your perfect man." He rubbed his two hands together as in anticipation.

"He has to have dark hair."

He groaned dramatically. "Aw c'mon, at least give me a shot here!"

She shook her head and laughed. "Nope, sorry. My perfect man is required to have dark hair and that is one thing that you're lacking, Blondie."

"Shot down again." He pouted.

"You know what this means?" she asked, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

He shook his head, still pouting childishly.

"We should be friends."

Looking up and wiping the pout off of his face, he smiled and held out his hand. "Friends," he confirmed, shaking her hand with a smirk. There was a brief pause in the conversation before, "But if I ever dye my hair darker you so have to admit that I'm your perfect man."

She just laughed in response.

-

Steph crept into her boyfriend's dorm using the key that she had commandeered before they had become serious to unlock the door. It was much too early for Finn, that she knew, but had thought that she would be traditional and maybe make him something to eat or at the very least, supply some aspirin for his hangover. She still wasn't quite sure how the two of them had ended up in separate dorms the previous night and she sighed, wondering if he was bored of being exclusive already.

These thoughts were chased from her mind when she noticed that Finn was not only up and moving but also talking coherently on the phone to someone. This was not the Finn that she knew and loved.

Trying to smile at her, although it came out as more of a grimace, Finn held up one finger to signal that he would be done in a minute. Steph nodded to show that she understood before making her way towards the coffee maker. Something told her that her boyfriend would need a lot of coffee to keep functioning throughout the day.

Turning when she heard the conversation end, she was surprised to see him slumped over on the couch, looking pitiful. Crossing the room half way through the process of making coffee, she sat down beside him and ran a hand through his hair.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly, running a hand down his back and wishing that she could see his face. He had turned away from her when he had heard her footsteps.

"Nothing." His voice was irritated and his annoyed demeanour was obvious.

"Obviously it's not 'nothing'," Steph persisted, used to having to deal with irritable boys. She didn't have two younger brothers without knowing something about dealing with them in their bad moods.

"Just leave me the fuck alone," he snapped, turning towards her and she recoiled as if burnt. As she abruptly got up and walked away, feelings of remorse filled him. "I'm sorry, love, I just…"

"You just what, Finn? I can't deal with your bullshit, not right now, not today."

With the slam of a door she was gone, leaving Finn to curse after her until he almost couldn't remember what had gotten him so pissed off in the first place.

Almost.

-

The ringing of a phone disrupted Logan from his uneasy slumber. Wearily, he opened one eye, groaned, and rolled over, pulling the pillow along with him to cover his face. He knew that nobody who would call so early in the morning would be someone that he wanted to talk to. After dragging himself out of bed and making his way towards the phone, casting a desperate look at the coffee machine, he realized that he was right in his theory as the number displayed on the caller ID was his mother's.

Groaning, he turned away from the phone and flopped back down on the bed. A minute later, he was asleep.

When he awoke almost two hours later, he didn't remember his previous awakening nor did he notice that the red light on his answering machine was blinking. Not that it really mattered anyway as his mother was never one for leaving messages on machines, not trusting them to be received. Logan never mentioned that he never received her messages from his machine because they were deleted before they could be listened to. Call it juvenile but he was never one for maturity.

The phone rang again when Logan was in the middle of drinking his first cup of coffee of the morning. Making an aggravated noise, he slammed down the coffee mug on the counter hard enough that he checked to make sure it hadn't chipped before crossing the room to the still ringing phone. Taking a glance at the caller ID, he was even more annoyed to see that it was his mother's private line.

He had never understood when he was younger why his parents had three phone lines. His father had his home business line which was, of course, completely different from his office business line as it was used for emergencies only. Logan was under the impression that it was merely his excuse to leave awkward family gatherings. His mother had her own phone line, primarily used to sort out dates for charity balls and DAR meetings. Why this had to be done on a separate line than the main house one was never completely answered. Then there was the main house line which was seldom answered. Instead, there was always a maid standing by, prepared to take down a message that would be returned as soon as possible.

And people wondered why Logan purchased his own cell phone at the age of eleven.

"Hello?" he said into the phone, already on the move back to his coffee cup.

"Logan, how are you?"

He rolled his eyes, leaned against the counter and took a sip of coffee. He hated nothing more than making polite conversation on the phone with his mother. Unless, of course, he was making polite conversation in person with his mother. "I'm doing well thanks, and yourself?"

"I'm doing wonderfully, thanks." There was a pause as Logan's mother waited for him to say something and Logan resisted the urge to bang his head against the counter repeatedly. "I actually have a favour to ask you."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother?"

"We're having a gathering of our closest friends tonight and you need to be here." There was no question in her tone, merely fact.

"I can't tonight," Logan said but he already knew that it was no good. He had never gotten away with saying no to Shira Huntzberger before, there was no reason that it should be different now.

"Cancel whatever you're busy with. You need to be here."

"Its last minute," Logan shot back. "You can't expect me not to busy if you invite me less than twelve hours before hand."

Shira's tone grew colder. "So suddenly your family doesn't matter, is that how it goes?" She continued on without waiting for an answer. "You will cancel your plans tonight and you will show up here at seven."

Logan opened his mouth to argue but realized that he would be speaking to empty air as his mother had already hung up on him. Slamming done the phone as hard as he could did nothing to calm him down despite it being intended to release some of his anger. Falling onto his couch, he put his head in his hands and sighed.

So much for his first date with Rory.

-

Rory couldn't sleep. No matter how many times she shifted her position or how many sheep she counted, sleep kept eluding her. When she awoke earlier than usual, she took one look at the clock and groaned. As she headed towards the coffee pot where Paris had already made coffee before she had left, she almost wished that she had classes that day. Of course it had to be a long weekend, leaving her with the whole day to fret over her date with Logan.

Nothing seemed to be working for her. Her closet stuffed with clothes suddenly didn't seem good enough and no shoes seemed to show off her legs to the extent that she wanted. She wanted him to take one look at her and be speechless; she wanted him to shower her with compliments as he walked her to his car.

She wanted to be beautiful to him, even if it was only for one night.

-

Steph knew that she looked pathetic, that she definitely had better days but at the moment she didn't care. She hated him, she loathed him. She hated that with just one word he could ruin her day. She hated that he had so much power over her, that she was so dependent on him. She wanted that to change. She wanted him to depend on her; she wanted him to be the weaker one in the relationship.

With new determination, Steph got up from the couch and grabbed her purse on her way to the door. She wasn't going to sit at home and cry over Finn anymore. Things were about to change.

And nothing was going to stand in her way.

A/N: Okay, I wanted your opinion on something:

Do you like the Tristan/OC and Steph/Finn scenes or would you preferit ifI mostly concentratedon the Rogan part of the story?