A/N: thank you so much for the reviews! over 100! whee! it makes me happy. anyways, in this story, im trying to decide if i want her pregnant or not...because i really want to write that. and if not, ill be starting a new story that i have a new idea for. but i think it would sorta work for this story, even though it been many many times before, but i have a really good idea of where i would want it to go. but anyways, tell me what you think on that and on this chapter. :) enjoy and review.

chapter eleven

"Finn," she groaned, coming to know him more of a brother than a client. "You have one month until opening. Your being gone in Australia wasn't the best time to be gone, and your decision to want to change all the publicity ads going out tomorrow, I might add, would not be helping the cause at all."

"But, love," he said, in all seriousness as possible after being completely inebriated for the last two days straight. "If we do an ad with me in it, not the mascot, which is still lovely since it is a kangaroo, my true love will truly find me!"

"Finn, you find your true love every night."

He smiled, "Just think how many I'd find then."

She shook her head and turned to his business partner and raised an eyebrow, "Talk to him."

It was the following day, and they were going to be at Richard and Emily Gilmore's house in seven hours, leaving to arrive in Hartford in five. They had left the store last night, after him paying for the groceries with much protest from Rory.

"I thought you didn't work on Fridays," Logan said.

"You open in one month and that's what you tell me?" she all but yelled.

He smirked, "Don't get your panties in a twist. We'll be fine."

She threw her hands up in the air. "I give up. I'm going to get food and go home, and enjoy what's left of my day off."

She closed their file and tucked into her bag that was on the floor next to her and stood up to leave Realidades. He followed her closely, "You okay?"

"Tired, stressed, hungry, dreading this dinner tonight," she listed. "Need I go on?"

He smiled, "No, I got it."

"Good. I hear Chinese calling my name."

"For lunch?"

"It's the all-day food!"

"Okay, go home, sleep, eat, whatever. Get ready and I'll pick you up around five. Alright?"

She nodded and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she reached up to kiss his lips. "Alright."

He squeezed her arm and let go, letting her walk outside, to the nearest Chinese restaurant.

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He walked into her room at the time when she was pulling on her dress, and he stepped into her closet to zip it up for her.

She jumped at both the touch of his cool hands on her warm skin and his unannounced presence. "Your hands are cold," she whispered.

"It's cold outside," he replied, just as quietly.

"So will I be cold?" she asked, gesturing to her blue silk halter dress that flowed to her knees and her silver pumps.

"Do your grandparents not have heat?" he asked.

She smacked him, "I'm taking that as I'll be fine," she said. "What do you think?"

She asked, smiling and turned, spinning around.

He stared, speechless. She smiled, "Cat got your tongue?"

"You're beautiful," he managed.

She kissed his cheek, "You don't look so bad yourself." She gestured to his nice suit and perfectly styled hair. "You know," she began, "sometimes I think you spend more time on your hair than I do."

He smirked, "Well, you also do a great styling job to my hair, too."

She blushed and smacked him again. "You're very violent today."

She grabbed her pea coat from the back of the closet and he helped her into it, and she pulled her curls out from under the collar.

"You can take it."

"Maybe it'll come out in my favor," he said, eyebrows raised.

"Don't act like a pig," she said in a tactful voice.

"Don't act like my mother."

"Hey! I resent that." He laughed and led her out to his car, parked in her driveway and opened the door.

"Now, would a pig be able to do that? I don't think so." She huffed, mock angry, and slid inside.

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"Logan!" Emily Gilmore cried joyfully when she pulled open the door almost immediately upon their arrival. "How nice you could join us! Come in, come in."

"Not like he had any choice in the matter," Rory muttered.

"What was that, Rory?"

She smiled, "The house looks wonderful, Grandma."

"Nice lie," Logan said quietly after Emily had turned to lead them into the living room after the maid, who was apparently too incompetent to open the door, but to handle their thousand dollar outwear, took their coats.

"Are you saying that I was wrong? On either account?"

"No, you were right. I didn't have a choice and the house does look wonderful."

They sat next to each other on the couch as Richard poured the drinks. "Is Mom coming tonight, Grandma? I haven't talked to her all week."

"No, she's out with that Luke man. Honestly, she could have brought him along. It's not as if we would have torn him to bits. Her thinking sometimes is so strange, I can hardly keep up."

"Yes, that's her."

"Shall we eat? We were just waiting for you two to arrive. It was so exciting that you were both able to come, and on such a short notice."

"Nonsense, Emily," Logan said, and Rory had to force herself to not roll her eyes. Ever the charmer, she thought.

They all sat in the dining room at their respective spots, Logan across from Rory and Richard at the head, with Emily across from him.

"So, Logan," Richard began, "how's the newspaper business?"

Rory gauged his reaction, but at looking at his face, she figured his mother would be proud. It was a trained society response. A smile and a cheery response, "Great, better than ever."

He caught her eye and winked and she frowned.

"Richard, aren't these two just adorable together? Can you picture the children? His hair and her eyes."

Rory's eyes bulged and she choked on her lemon chicken, coughing. "Rory, are you alright?" Richard asked.

She waved him off, "Oh yeah, fine," still coughing.

"And a wedding at the vineyard."

"You know," Rory said, "I'm starting to get a little headache. Would you mind terribly if we rescheduled this dinner?"

She took a drink of her water. "Yes, Rory hasn't been feeling well for the past few days," Logan said, his eyes never leaving Rory's.

"Well," Emily said, "You should have told me. It was silly for you to drive from New York to here if you weren't feeling well, Rory."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"I'll have Melinda get your coats." Emily placed her napkin on her plate and stood, off in search for the maid. Logan met Rory at the end of the table and wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Do you really feel sick or is this fake?" he whispered hotly in her ear.

She turned to look at him, her eyes wide, eyebrows raised. "You think I wanted to drive here and pretend to be sick just to drive home? Are you serious?"

Her voice continued to get louder with each word and she pulled away from him to get her coat. She shrugged her arms into it and jerked open the door, leaving him no other choice but to follow.

She was silent in the car, didn't even let him open the door for her.

Finally, he sighed and pulled over on the side of the road.

"Is this a less than subtle way of telling me to walk home?" she asked.

"No, this is us needing to talk."

"Why does everyone want us married?" she whispered, tears threatening to fall.

"Why are you so scared?" She turned back in her seat, facing the dark highway ahead of them, slightly reminding her of their lives, dark, a mystery.

"Take me home."

"Rory…"

"Logan," she snapped. Her voice softened, "Please."

He shifted the car into gear hesitantly and dropped her off at her house, not saying goodbye to her, kissing her cheek or anything. He just let her go. It wasn't her grandparents or his parents that started this fight. It was her fear and reluctance to let him in.

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"Rory," he said, stepping into her room, a week later, where she was on her bed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, knees pulled up to her chest.

A whole week without her, he forgot what it was like. And personally, if he could have it another way, he'd never let this happen again. His week was horrible. And he didn't have anyone to cheer him up, or laugh with, or just talk to, for God's sake. He needed her.

"Rory? You haven't answered my calls." He stopped when he saw her. "I've been calling," he said softly.

"I know." Her voice was hoarse, strained.

"Are you okay?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I uh, don't know if this is the best time, but I have some news."

"Me too." He hated her voice like this, like she had been crying. Her face was pale, eyes sunken in as if she hadn't slept in days. "You first," she said.

Bad idea, he thought. He didn't want to go first. "It's not particularly good news, actually. It's sucky news, but I wanted you to know."

"Are you going to tell me or should I play clairvoyant?" Her voice became stronger with each word.

"Right. I just talked to my father," her face darkened at the words, "and um, well, I have to go leave."

"Leave," she repeated.

"Oregon," he said. "Only for a month or so. There's an up and coming newspaper I need to find an editor for, so I need to run it until I can get someone."

Her mouth formed an 'o'. "When?" she asked, whispering.

"Red eye tomorrow night."

She was quiet, the silence nearly killing him. He cleared his throat, "What did you have to tell me?"

Tears shone in her eyes, "I should have gone first."

He smiled, "It can't be that bad, can it?"

"Depends on your definition of bad."

"You're avoiding it. Rory, you're scaring me."

She held up her hand to make him stop and his next words fell silent on his lips. He pushed a hand through his hair and took a step nearer to where she was sitting on the end of her bed. "What is it?"

"I think I'm pregnant."