TITLE: Chilton Liaisons
AUTHOR: chessqueen
DISCLAIMER: Gilmore Girls and its characters belong to WB and that goddess Amy Sherman-Palladino.
SPOILERS: Seasons 1 and 2, particularly the episodes with Tristan.
SUMMARY and CONTENT WARNING: This is a story about Tristan's "courtship" of Rory. It has a Dangerous Liaisons overtone to it. Some readers may be more familiar with Cruel Intentions which itself was a teen version of Dangerous Liaisons. There are sexual overtones but no hardcore sex is described. This story is basically the Gilmore Girl scenes you didn't see. In that I am working within the Gilmore Girls canon, Tristan doesn't die or anything like that but I am exploring a side of Tristan that isn't particularly attractive and doesn't jive with the idea many people have of him, including me. Constructive criticism is welcome.
_______________________________________________________________________
"Well, well, well," Paris Gellar said as she entered the downstairs drawing room. "I didn't believe Gigi when she said Mr. Tristan DuGrey was here to see me. To what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked as she walked across the plush maroon carpeting and took a seat across from him.
"Can't an old friend come by for a visit?"
"I know you Tristan. What do you want?"
"Paris," he said as he rose from the Gellar's brown leather sofa then sat cross-legged in front of her. He took both of her hands in his left one while putting his right hand on her knee. "I'm truly hurt by this. As if I'd only come by to visit because I want something. Tsk, tsk, tsk. But since you ask," he said as he began steadily moving his hand up her thigh. "I wanted to be the one to tell you that I'll be starting back at Chilton on Monday."
"Really," she said jerking her hands free and standing up. She brushed past him and began pacing across the room. "Why are you telling me this?"
Rising from the floor, Tristan made his way to stand behind her. Seductively he touched the small of her back and whispered in her ear, "I thought you'd be interested in knowing."
"You thought wrong," she said pulling away.
"Are you sure? Because I don't think I am."
"Trust me, you are. Things are very, very different now."
"I'm sure I'll be able to get the hang of things pretty quickly. I understand people; I know what makes them tick."
"You think you can manipulate anyone into doing whatever you want them to. Some people won't fall for it."
"Certainly you aren't referring to yourself Gellar," he said as he stood behind her, grabbing her by her waist, and pulling her hard against him. "Because I remember a certain night at a certain party and certain things taking place in the maid's quarters."
"Stop it," Paris screamed then pushed him away from her. "Get out. Get out of my house."
"You don't mean that Paris," he said softly. "I just got here. We haven't had a chance to get reacquainted."
"Go," Paris said then pushed the intercom button. "Gigi, Mr. DuGrey is ready to leave."
"Paris, Paris, Paris," he said in a singsong voice. Immediately Gigi appeared at the drawing room door.
"Ma'am?"
"Yes, Gigi. Goodbye Tristan. It was so very nice to see you again. I'll see you at school."
"You can count on it," Tristan said then took her hand and licked it. Finally, he turned and followed Gigi into the hallway.
***
Making her way to her English Lit class Monday morning, Paris Gellar suddenly stopped when she saw a huge crowd of girls gathered at the end of the hallway. Composing herself, she continued on her way.
"Can you believe it," she overheard two girls say as they passed her in the hall. "Tristan's back."
"What's going on?" A voice asked from behind her. She turned to face Rory Gilmore. Boy, how she both hated and admired the dark haired girl. Until Rory had come to Chilton, she'd been its top student, the one to beat. Rory Gilmore was giving her some stiff competition. Paris had to admit, Rory was smart. She was pretty too - angelic, innocent, warm and inviting, a sharp contrast to her blonde haired and blue-eyed ice princess looks.
"Apparently Tristan DuGrey is back," Paris said as she continued toward the English Lit classroom.
"Who?"
"Tristan DuGrey. His father heads DuGrey Incorporated. They're old Hartford money."
"Oh. My grandparents probably know him then."
"If they're part of the social elite in this town, they do. Watch out for him Gilmore. He's a bad, bad boy. He's been shipped to a number of boarding schools all along the East Coast."
Rory looked at him one last time then followed Paris into the classroom.
***
"Who was the Mary you were talking to this morning?" Paris heard Tristan ask from behind her. It was lunchtime and she was at the salad bar making a Chef's salad.
"I don't know who you're talking about."
"Of course you do. Brown hair, blue eyes, virginal."
"She's not your type."
"Sure she is. All girls are. Name?"
"Rory Gilmore."
"Rory. Interesting name. I'll have to make Ms. Gilmore's day by making her acquaintance."
"She'll never go for you."
"Wanna bet?"
"She has a boyfriend," Paris said as she walked over to the cafeteria's coffee pot and poured herself a cup of coffee.
"C'mon Paris. Where's your competitive spirit?" he said flicking her hair with his finger. "Maybe you're not so sure your girl Gilmore can resist me after all."
"I'm so confident she can resist you, I'll take this bet."
"Now things are getting interesting. What should we bet? What do you have that I could possibly want?" he said then began mockingly stroking his chin like a villain in a movie.
"You needn't worry yourself about that considering I'm going to win. Your mother and grandmother both went to Radcliffe, right? If I win, I want you to get them to call the dean of admissions and give me such a recommendation that I'm guaranteed to get in."
"That would be difficult but I could do it, not that I'll need to. When I win Gellar, I expect you to attend Paul Barclay's spring party; I'll pick your outfit." Paris froze. Paul was a member of Tristan's old crew. Tristan was a saint compared to Paul when it came to cruelty and exploiting people. He had been Paris' first. He'd slipped something into her drink at one of his infamous parties and had taken advantage of her when she'd passed out. She hadn't gone to another party since. She hated Paul. She'd managed to avoid him ever since he'd been sent to a boarding school in Massachusetts. The last thing she wanted to do was accompany Tristan to one of Paul's parties wearing whatever slutty outfit Tristan picked for her but a good word from Tristan's mother and grandmother would insure her a place at Harvard.
"Deal?" Tristan asked as he traced his finger down her neck.
"Deal," she said then turned and held out her hand for him to shake.
"Good," he said as he raised her extended hand to his lips and kissed it.
AUTHOR: chessqueen
DISCLAIMER: Gilmore Girls and its characters belong to WB and that goddess Amy Sherman-Palladino.
SPOILERS: Seasons 1 and 2, particularly the episodes with Tristan.
SUMMARY and CONTENT WARNING: This is a story about Tristan's "courtship" of Rory. It has a Dangerous Liaisons overtone to it. Some readers may be more familiar with Cruel Intentions which itself was a teen version of Dangerous Liaisons. There are sexual overtones but no hardcore sex is described. This story is basically the Gilmore Girl scenes you didn't see. In that I am working within the Gilmore Girls canon, Tristan doesn't die or anything like that but I am exploring a side of Tristan that isn't particularly attractive and doesn't jive with the idea many people have of him, including me. Constructive criticism is welcome.
_______________________________________________________________________
"Well, well, well," Paris Gellar said as she entered the downstairs drawing room. "I didn't believe Gigi when she said Mr. Tristan DuGrey was here to see me. To what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked as she walked across the plush maroon carpeting and took a seat across from him.
"Can't an old friend come by for a visit?"
"I know you Tristan. What do you want?"
"Paris," he said as he rose from the Gellar's brown leather sofa then sat cross-legged in front of her. He took both of her hands in his left one while putting his right hand on her knee. "I'm truly hurt by this. As if I'd only come by to visit because I want something. Tsk, tsk, tsk. But since you ask," he said as he began steadily moving his hand up her thigh. "I wanted to be the one to tell you that I'll be starting back at Chilton on Monday."
"Really," she said jerking her hands free and standing up. She brushed past him and began pacing across the room. "Why are you telling me this?"
Rising from the floor, Tristan made his way to stand behind her. Seductively he touched the small of her back and whispered in her ear, "I thought you'd be interested in knowing."
"You thought wrong," she said pulling away.
"Are you sure? Because I don't think I am."
"Trust me, you are. Things are very, very different now."
"I'm sure I'll be able to get the hang of things pretty quickly. I understand people; I know what makes them tick."
"You think you can manipulate anyone into doing whatever you want them to. Some people won't fall for it."
"Certainly you aren't referring to yourself Gellar," he said as he stood behind her, grabbing her by her waist, and pulling her hard against him. "Because I remember a certain night at a certain party and certain things taking place in the maid's quarters."
"Stop it," Paris screamed then pushed him away from her. "Get out. Get out of my house."
"You don't mean that Paris," he said softly. "I just got here. We haven't had a chance to get reacquainted."
"Go," Paris said then pushed the intercom button. "Gigi, Mr. DuGrey is ready to leave."
"Paris, Paris, Paris," he said in a singsong voice. Immediately Gigi appeared at the drawing room door.
"Ma'am?"
"Yes, Gigi. Goodbye Tristan. It was so very nice to see you again. I'll see you at school."
"You can count on it," Tristan said then took her hand and licked it. Finally, he turned and followed Gigi into the hallway.
***
Making her way to her English Lit class Monday morning, Paris Gellar suddenly stopped when she saw a huge crowd of girls gathered at the end of the hallway. Composing herself, she continued on her way.
"Can you believe it," she overheard two girls say as they passed her in the hall. "Tristan's back."
"What's going on?" A voice asked from behind her. She turned to face Rory Gilmore. Boy, how she both hated and admired the dark haired girl. Until Rory had come to Chilton, she'd been its top student, the one to beat. Rory Gilmore was giving her some stiff competition. Paris had to admit, Rory was smart. She was pretty too - angelic, innocent, warm and inviting, a sharp contrast to her blonde haired and blue-eyed ice princess looks.
"Apparently Tristan DuGrey is back," Paris said as she continued toward the English Lit classroom.
"Who?"
"Tristan DuGrey. His father heads DuGrey Incorporated. They're old Hartford money."
"Oh. My grandparents probably know him then."
"If they're part of the social elite in this town, they do. Watch out for him Gilmore. He's a bad, bad boy. He's been shipped to a number of boarding schools all along the East Coast."
Rory looked at him one last time then followed Paris into the classroom.
***
"Who was the Mary you were talking to this morning?" Paris heard Tristan ask from behind her. It was lunchtime and she was at the salad bar making a Chef's salad.
"I don't know who you're talking about."
"Of course you do. Brown hair, blue eyes, virginal."
"She's not your type."
"Sure she is. All girls are. Name?"
"Rory Gilmore."
"Rory. Interesting name. I'll have to make Ms. Gilmore's day by making her acquaintance."
"She'll never go for you."
"Wanna bet?"
"She has a boyfriend," Paris said as she walked over to the cafeteria's coffee pot and poured herself a cup of coffee.
"C'mon Paris. Where's your competitive spirit?" he said flicking her hair with his finger. "Maybe you're not so sure your girl Gilmore can resist me after all."
"I'm so confident she can resist you, I'll take this bet."
"Now things are getting interesting. What should we bet? What do you have that I could possibly want?" he said then began mockingly stroking his chin like a villain in a movie.
"You needn't worry yourself about that considering I'm going to win. Your mother and grandmother both went to Radcliffe, right? If I win, I want you to get them to call the dean of admissions and give me such a recommendation that I'm guaranteed to get in."
"That would be difficult but I could do it, not that I'll need to. When I win Gellar, I expect you to attend Paul Barclay's spring party; I'll pick your outfit." Paris froze. Paul was a member of Tristan's old crew. Tristan was a saint compared to Paul when it came to cruelty and exploiting people. He had been Paris' first. He'd slipped something into her drink at one of his infamous parties and had taken advantage of her when she'd passed out. She hadn't gone to another party since. She hated Paul. She'd managed to avoid him ever since he'd been sent to a boarding school in Massachusetts. The last thing she wanted to do was accompany Tristan to one of Paul's parties wearing whatever slutty outfit Tristan picked for her but a good word from Tristan's mother and grandmother would insure her a place at Harvard.
"Deal?" Tristan asked as he traced his finger down her neck.
"Deal," she said then turned and held out her hand for him to shake.
"Good," he said as he raised her extended hand to his lips and kissed it.