A/N: okay, so. Thank you for the reviews! they made me happy. grrr but school blocked by yahoo address, so i cant check my mail at school anymore, unless its sent to the school address. grr. anyways, this is meeting the huntzbergers, dun dun dun, and its a short meeting. very short. but i already have the next chapter completed, and it was done even before this one was so im oober excited about that one and just bleh about this one. so im sorry. i also stopped at a weird place because then thats where the next chapter starts up. but anyways, enjoy and review.

chapter eight

"Hey, little brother," a peppy voice sounded through Logan's cell phone a week later. His sister, Honor, was trying to get the full scoop on his and Rory's relationship.

"For the fifth time, Honor, no. I'm at lunch right now, so I'll have to call you back?"

"With Rory!" He hung his head and Rory laughed in the seat across from him before taking the phone from his ear.

"Hello?" she asked. Logan was making motions with his hands at his throat and finally shrugged before asking the waiter for another beer.

"Is this Rory?"

"Affirmative." The voice on the other line squealed and Rory held the phone away form her ear, giving Logan a look.

"You asked for it," he said and she rolled her eyes.

"Well, it is an hour to talk to the girl who tamed my little brother down."

Rory laughed, "I would hardly call it that. But we're at lunch so can I have him call you back?"

"Oh, God, yes. Sorry. Enjoy lunch and it was nice to talk to you." She snapped the phone shut and slid it across the table.

"I love Saturdays," Rory said, looking out the window of the small restaurant they were in for an early lunch.

He raised his eyebrow, "Why?"

"I don't know. Nothing to do, just sit and be lazy or go eat all the food in the world. Whatever you're in the mood for."

"What about Sundays?"

"Sundays are my stay-in-bed day. Nothing like a down comforter and a warm bed. Yep, those are good days."

He smirked at her quirky personality. It's not that he didn't know about it from when they simply had nights together, it just didn't show as much. They spent time doing other things, rather than talking.

She paused, "So, I'm the girl who tamed you?"

He groaned, "Honor…"

"It was cute," she said smiling, taking a drink of her coffee.

His phone rang again and he cursed. "Hello? Dad, hi. Come tonight? And bring Rory?" He looked at her from across the table and her eyes widened.

"Who told you that we are dating? No, I have the right to know. Fine, I'll see what I can do. Eight o'clock, got it. No, Dad, I won't be late. Bye."

There was a beat of silence. "So I guess tonight wouldn't be the night to stay home and eat all the food in the world, huh?" she asked.

"I'm really sorry. I can get us out if you don't want to go."

She shook her head, despite her inner turmoil, "No, it's fine."

Dinner with his parents? The infamous Huntzbergers? He must have read her mind because his hand slipped over hers where it was resting on the fork. He didn't want to worry about this now. They had a full afternoon ahead of them. He didn't want a black cloud hanging over them.

"It'll be okay, I swear. They'll like you."

"I'm not worried about that. I don't care if they like me or not. I don't need their approval to know I've made something of myself."

He smirked, reveling in her independence. Sometimes though, it caused problems for them. She liked being on her own sometimes, and sometimes he felt he was just holding her back.

"Then what?"

She looked around at the other people in the restaurant, a mother with her baby, the husband smiling at the two from the seat across from them; a young couple sitting on one side of the booth, her head resting on his shoulder as they looked at a menu. Was everyone with someone these days?

"It's just," turning her eyes back to him, "what would this mean for us? I mean, meeting the parents. It sounds all official."

"Well, are we not official? I thought we covered this," he said, confused.

She smiled, "I know. It's just me, being over…whatever. It's fine."

His gaze lingered a little longer, not fully believing her. The waiter came with their check and she took it before he could, sticking her tongue out at him.

"How old are we?" he asked.

"I get to pay for it this time. You always pay for everything I eat."

"It's proper. And its not like its damaging my bank account." He snatched the bill out of her hands and she pouted.

"Fine. I'm buying next time."

---------

He came to her house at about five, as they had to drive to Hartford from New York, about a two hour drive. He found her pacing in the kitchen in a black strapless dress with a fitted bodice and a bubble-dress type bottom. Her feet were bare and she was pacing the stove, back and forth before he stopped he by putting his hands on her shoulders.

She screamed. "Oh, it's you."

"Thanks for the warm welcome."

"I thought it was someone, like a murderer, the way you snuck up on me."

"Sorry. You ready to go?" He brushed hair away from her head.

"Um, yeah," she said uncertainly.

She started walking to the door, "Shoes?" he called.

"Right, shoes. Might want those." She grabbed a pair of heels the door. She slipped them on and went outside to his car. He laughed before opening the passenger side door and handing her a black shawl he had grabbed off the table in the entry way of her house. "Thanks," she said as he shut the door behind her.

His hand slid over her leg as they made their way to Hartford and she looked at him. "I didn't tell them who you were. Gilmore, or otherwise."

"Why not?" she asked.

"I don't want them judging you for your money. If they don't like you, I want it to be valid reasons and said up front, not just them being fake to you for social status."

"So you're thinking they won't like me?" she asked.

"No! No, that's not what I meant." She laughed; he was just as scared as she was. She put a hand over his.

"We'll be okay."

"So Rory," Shira Huntzberger, Logan's mother, asked as they were sitting down to dinner. Mitchum, his father, looked like he was chomping at the bit to get out of there and Elias Huntzberger, Logan's grandfather simply asked the maid for another whiskey.

"My friend and I just opened a PR firm in the business district in New York."

"So you studied public relations in college," Mitchum asked.

"No, actually, I was going to be an overseas correspondent but that didn't sit too well with my mother." Mitchum smiled before taking a drink of his own whiskey.

"So what do your parents do, Rory?" Shira asked for the sake of conversation.

"She owns an inn, not far from here, just a little while outside Hartford."

"We can't ignore the subject forever!" Elias shouted.

"Dad," Mitchum started.

"No, Mitchum, I will not let this trailer trash gold digger ruin this family!"

Rory scoffed, "Excuse me? I am hardly from a trailer and I am in now way after money."

"Oh, and we're supposed to believe you make your own?"

"Yes, you are."

"I've never heard of anyone in PR by the name of Rory, Miss…" he didn't know her last name, Mitchum realized.

"Gilmore," she said, standing up from the table, throwing her napkin down on the plate served with lemon chicken.

She took her shawl and clutch from the maid and walked out the front door. She was leaning on his car when he came out ten minutes later.

"Well, that took long," she said sarcastically.

"Rory…" he started.

"Can we go? I'm getting another headache."

"Yeah, sure." He pulled the door open and she slipped inside the small sedan.

She rested her head on the window as the New York City lights came into view.

"Rory, I'm so sorry."

She gave him a tight smile before turning back to the skyline. "I didn't think they'd be that upfront about this."

"It's fine."

"No, it's not.

"So I am a trailer trash, gold digging whorebag?"

He looked at her sharply from her tone as they were pulling up into her driveway. "I'll talk to you later," she said as he pressed a light kiss to her lips before she climbed out of the car and into her house.

-------

"Rory?" he called as he walked through the front door of her house two days later.

He found her at the stove, stirring something in a pot. "I didn't know you cooked."

"There's a lot you don't know about me. And I happen to make a mean mac n' cheese."

It was eight o'clock Monday night, and they were both exhausted from work. She even still had her heels on, something he found odd, even for her quirky behavior.

She ate some from the pan before dumping out the water and adding the milk and cheese. She kept eating from the pan. "Does this mean I don't get any?"

She dropped the pan on the counter and brushed by him. "Rory," he groaned.

"No, don't even, Logan."

"You said we were fine!"

"Thanks for standing up for me there! Shows how much I really mean to you!"

"Why didn't you yell about this then? Not forty eight hours after not hearing from you!"

She yelled incoherently, taking off her shoes as she headed for the stairs, for the first time in their relationship, wanting to get away from him.