AN: I am so sorry that it has taken me forever to update this story. It's just that things have been hectic; I had prom and graduation, I've been getting ready for college…but anyways now that summer is here and I have some free time on my hands, here's the next installment. I hope you all enjoy and of course do not forget to review!!

Chapter 9

Emily Gilmore is not a cold-hearted woman, she is simply a brutally, honest, out-spoken person. But unfortunately when she is too brutally honest, most people have come to the conclusion that, she is, in fact a cold-hearted woman.

"Rory, dear, you're overanalyzing this," Emily reasoned. She thought that sharing this piece of information with her daughter and granddaughter would spark a fun and interesting conversation between the three Gilmore girls at their weekly Friday night dinner.

"Over analyzing? This is not over analyzing," Rory argued, as she passionately held her fork in her hand and swung it around occasionally, "Over analyzing would be whether or not I should have the last slice of pizza in the box knowing that I have eaten eight already plus four donuts. I start to debate with myself on whether or not I should eat it because it might just be the one small slice that takes me over the edge with my head in the toilet throwing up the nine slices of pizza and the four donuts..."

"Gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins," Emily whispered to Lorelai.

"I guess pizza slice number nine is too," Lorelai whispers back.

Rory continued with her argument, "But me asking you why you would say what you said to Tristan and look at Sam the way you did, is not over-analyzing."

"Alright, well, I'm glad we cleared that up," Lorelai said trying to ease the tension and change the subject.

"I still don't see what I did wrong," Emily said without a care.

Rory shook her head. Turning to her mother, she said, "Now I now where you get your stubbornness from."

"And that's about it," Lorelai muttered to herself.

"What was that Lorelai?" Emily questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Without missing a beat, Lorelai said, "This chicken tastes good! It's got it!"

Skeptically, Emily replied, "I'm sure it does."

"Oh it does," Lorelai assured her before stuffing a piece in her mouth and smiling.

Rory wasn't done, "Don't change the subject, grandma."

Emily heavily sighed, "Oh for heaven's sake Rory, everything's fine; as kids today say 'it's all good in the hood'."

Lorelai dropped her knife and fork and stared at her mother in shock, "Mom."

"Yes?'

"Never. Ever. Will. You. Repeat. That."

"Bottom line Grandma," Rory continued, "Next time you see Tristan, don't mention me."

"Fine," Emily shrugged.

"Good," Rory nodded as she stabbed a piece of chicken with her fork and plopped it into her mouth, "Mm, mom you were right, this chicken does have it."

"I told you," Lorelai replied with a mouth full of chicken.

"What does the chicken have?" Emily wondered.

"We don't know, but it has it," Lorelai told her.

The Gilmore girls continued to enjoy their chicken. They were eating the rest of their meal in silence until Emily spoke once again.

"So Lorelai, never again?" Emily curiously asked referring to her comment about it all being good in the hood.

"Never again."

"Aw mom! Come on," Tristan sighed; he couldn't believe his ears.

Stifling her laughter, Mrs. Dugrey recomposed herself, "I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

As soon as those words came out of his mouth, his mother burst out laughing once again.

"Mom, it's not that funny," he tried to argue.



"You have to admit that it's kind of funny," she told him as she wiped away a lone tear from her laughter.

"My mother ladies and gentlemen," Tristan announced to his apartment, "The cold-hearted woman."

"After what you just told me, you now know that that title belongs to Emily," his mother countered with a smile.

"You should have been there mom, you should have seen Sam's face; even you would have felt bad for her."

"Maybe," Mrs. Dugrey reasoned, "But that wouldn't change how I really feel about her; she's not good enough for you."

"Not this again," Tristan said, dramatically rolling his eyes.

"I won't lecture you again," his mother assured, "but you need to realize, soon, that you're not with the right person."

That's where Claire ended her words of wisdom as she gave her son a kiss on the cheek and went back to cleaning his kitchen counter.

"I hate it when you're right," Tristan muttered under his breath as he began walking past her and towards his refrigerator.

"I know, Sweetie," Claire replied as he was next to her, "But I love it," she finished with a smile.

"I've got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine--"

"Finn."

"Yes?" The Aussie perked up.

"Is your singing necessary?" the blonde asked his friend a bit irritated.

"Yes."

"Well I don't think it is so shut your mouth," Logan replied in his usual bad mood.

Standing up for himself in a childish way, Finn told him, "Well I think it is," without missing another beat, Finn continued singing Natasha Beddingfield's latest single, "I've got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine…"

"Is that all you know?" Logan asked with a hint of a smile visible on his lips.

"Um…well, you see…yes," he reluctantly admitted.

The blonde sighed, "Then do us all a favor and look up the damn lyrics because if all I'm going to be hearing is how your stupid pockets are full of sunshine, I might have to strangle you."

"Point taken."

Without another word, Finn hopped off his position on Logan's kitchen counter and practically skipped to where Logan's laptop was located.

After a few moments of silence, from his position on the couch, Logan hesitantly asked, "So…have you uh, has…have you talked, did…have--"

"Just spit it out, mate," Finn told him with a roll of his eyes.

"Have you talked to her?" he finally asked; a bit too fast.

"Who?" The Australian slyly asked.

"Rory," he was definitely annoyed.

With a shrug, Finn replied, "Yeah."

Logan tried to patiently wait to hear more.

He continued to wait.

But Finn was taking too long or was just dense.

"So?!"

"So what?"

"What did she say?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yup."

"Yup?"

"Alright now, that has got to stop. I always wanted a twin; we would say that same thing at the same time. Right now you're being a parrot not a twin, and I'm not a big fan of exotic birds because I believe that I'm exotic enough."

Logan got annoyed, "Well if you just told me what I wanted to know without me having to ask-"

"And what exactly is it that your little heart desires to know?" Finn sarcastically cocked an eyebrow as he continued to search for his lyrics.

"How is she? What has she been up? Has she said anything about me?" Logan asked so fast that he had doubts that Finn understood him.

Without missing a beat, Finn replied, "Good. Stuff. None of your business."

"None of my business?'

"You heard right,' Finn told him unfazed.

"Finn," Logan smiled; his friend was a funny character.

"Logan," the Aussie's eyes were still glued to the computer screen.

"Seriously, has she said anything about me?"

"Like I said before…none of your business."

"But-"

Before the blonde could continue his complaining, Finn cut him off, "Listen mate, I love you, but you and Reporter Girl are both my friends--"

"But I was your friend first," he didn't care that he sounded like a five year old.

"And," he ignored Logan's outburst and continued with what he was saying, "I'm not gonna be a messenger slash spy."

"But--"

"But nothing," Finn sternly said, "If you want to know any bit of information about Rory Gilmore, you will have to go to the source itself: Rory Gilmore."

Logan huffed and crossed his arms across his chest and let out a sigh of frustration and annoyance; Australians were stubborn.

"I found them!" Finn exclaimed once he finally found the lyrics he was looking for.

"Good for you," Logan mumbled.

"Aw, let me cheer you up buddy ol'pal" the Australian cheerfully said.

Without further ado, Finn began singing "Pocket Full of Sunshine" at the top of his lungs.

Luckily for Logan the Australian's singing skills came to a stop when someone knocked at his door.

Getting up from his comfortable position on his couch he sauntered over to the door and peeped through the peep hole and almost had a panic attack, "Finn! Shut that damn music off!'

"What crawled in your pants and bit you?" he asked his distraught friend as he quickly did as he was told.

"It's her," was all he said.

"Good, don't give me any more information, because I'm psychic," sarcasm was now dripping from his voice.

"Rory," Logan said as he once again looked through the peep hole, "It's Rory, and she's here."

"Okay," Finn didn't see what the problem was.

"Get out," he told him as if it were obvious.

"Unless you want me to jump five stories you're gonna have to open the door," Finn said amused; Logan was freaking out because there was a girl at his door.

"Right, right," he looked like an idiot. "Okay here's the plan--"

"Are you serious? Just open the damn door."

"Shut up – I'm gonna go back on the couch and act casual, while you answer the door."

"What's the point of that?"

"So it won't seem like I'm too excited to see her when I open the door; I can't look desperate," Logan told him in a 'duh' tone.

"You're ridiculously crazy," was all Finn said as he made his way to the front door and was about to open it until his psychotic friend told his to wait, "What now?"

"I'm not ready," he told him before throwing himself on the couch and sprawling himself out on it, "Okay, go ahead, I'm ready."

"God help us all," Finn muttered to himself.

'Casually' he opened the door, "Reporter Girl, how's it been?"

"Hey Finn. Not bad, how've you been?" she greeted him with a hug.

"Not bad, not bad – I found the lyrics to that song I was singing so whenever you're ready…"

"I'll let you know when I'm ready to be entertained," Rory laughed.

"Who was at the door Finn?" Logan's voice sounded throughout the apartment.

Finn rolled his eyes; he had some stupid friends, "It's Gilmore."

"Rory?" Logan asked.

"The one and only," she spoke up.

"Hey, what have you been up to?" he asked making conversation.

"Not much, you?'

"Not much."

The Australian had to interrupt, "Well it was nice seeing you, Rory. Logan I'll talk to you later," he told him, but then on a side note added, "You should see a doctor about your amnesia," with a smirk he was out the door as his friend's eyes threw daggers at him.

Logan broke the awkward silence, "So why you here?"

"What? I can't drop by to say hello?" Rory innocently said.

"After what you said to me I assumed that--"

"What have I told you about assuming," she smiled as she took a few steps closer to him.

"You…you, uh-"

She stopped his stammering by placing her lips on his.

He didn't ask any questions, he just deepened the kiss. His hungry lips and seeking tongue attacked hers as they both stumbled towards his bedroom and onto his bed.

Within minutes their clothes were discarded and forgotten on the floor.

Without wasting any more time he slipped a finger in and tested her; she was hot and dripping 

wet and that's all it took to make him even harder.

He coated the tip of his shaft with her juices and in one swift, quick, hard move he slammed into making her cry out in pleasure. He repeated the process once, twice, three more times before keeping a steady pace.

"Oh God," the words escaped her lips in a moan.

Logan kept his eyes on her as he sped up his pumping.

"Yes, harder," she breathed out.

She was close; he could feel it and he didn't waste any time.

He pounded in and out of her so fast and so hard that within seconds he had them both over the edge as he called out her name.

"Mm, Tristan," she sighed.

Logan froze above her.

She must have felt him stiffen because she slowly and carefully allowed her eyes to drift open, and when she did she was met with a pair of brown ones that were filled with confusion, anger, and most of all…hurt.

AN: Please review. I would really appreciate it. Hopefully people are still interested in this story. I hate that it took me so long to update.