Title: Nine Months.

Author: Professional Scatterbrain

Rating: PG- 13 to R

Couple: R/T

Summary: Tristan returns to Chilton, and to the game, but Rory's not playing.

Note: Tristan left later on in Rory's first year at Chilton, so therefore the whole nine-month thing works (a little hint, it's a metaphor for the fic). After Tristan left Rory formed a fledgling friendship with Paris, Louise and Madeline, and by the time senior years rolls up there good friends, well, most of the time at least. Everything that happened with Dean and Jess happened except it happened all before senior year. At the end of the year before Rory told Jess she loved him, and he left suddenly straight afterwards.

I made Chilton darker, because I found the whole picture perfect school depicted on the show nice, yet unrealistic. I tried to model it around my High School, showing the competitiveness, the cruelty, and self delusion within my environment. I go to a girls school though, so the guy thing still might take me a while to work out. Suggestions would be nice as this is my first GG fic.

***

~ Chp 2 ~

***

From his position within his group of friends it was like nothing had changed. Following them out of the school buildings he watched a couple of the guys wave over a pretty blonde. As the girl glided up, Tristan instantly recognised her. It was Louise. He remembered dating her for a short period. A real wildcat in bed he remembered. Wouldn't have though a pretty thing like her would say those sorts of words, but surprises made life interesting. She was beautiful, with a Cheshire cat smile that at one time had made his knees weak. But not anymore, now all he could see in her was ice; she was emotionless and detached from the world around her.

"Long time no see Tristan." Louise said silkily, her wide hazel eyes unashamedly giving him a once over.

"Nice to see you remember me."

"How could I forget?" she asked, giving him one of her meaningful looks. She was a vixen, and she knew it.

The guys all roared with laughter, there was a reason they worshiped her. She was beautiful, uncomplicated, a perfect girl to bring home to the parents, and then fuck in there bed. They used her, and she used them. Both parties got what they wanted Tristan understood. Both got power, and as someone once said, though she was on her knees, she had them by the balls.

"You seen Mary?" Tristan asked, being very careful not to arise any suspicion in either parties, knowing his friends would see it as a statement of him picking up where he left off in the challenge, and Louise knowing Rory was the next target in the game.

"Why? Still want her?" she asked, her eyes laughing silently.

Stepping closer to the beautiful girl, he whispered, "I prefer a girl with a little . . . experience, if you get my drift treasure."

The guys laughed, but surprisingly Louise didn't. Her eyes remained wide and cat like, but her body stiffened, pulled back from him as if in repulsion. She looked at him for a second, and in that second he caught a flicker of the emotions behind her mask of pretty caramel eyes. Then it was gone, and she was back to being the girl he had slept with behind the rose garden at her families' estate.

"She's off limits just so you know Bible boy." She announced frigidly.

Tristan examined her. Bible boy was a nickname Rory coined. What exactly had happened while he'd been away? When had Louise defended Rory? Watching her refuse a cigarette from his cousin, Tristan waited for her to clarify what she had stated forth rightly. Then thinking better of it, he turned away, not showing how impatient he was for an explanation. Although Rory interested him, he wasn't in love with her, or in lust with her. At the most she intrigued him. He could wait for an answer.

"Off limits? Are you hot for her Louise?" Matt DuGrey, Tristan's cousin asked. His tone was joking, yet it signified a challenge.

"So she's stayed untouched in my absence?" Tristan asked brushing some of Louise blonde hair behind her ears.

"What's it to you?" She retorted cocking her head to the side, making her golden locks fall over her shoulder and catch the light. It was her patterning move. Tristan couldn't help but being a little effected by it, and he knew he wasn't the only one.

"Mary's still a Mary?" Tristan asked with a smirk.

"Are you still a whore?" she retorted, answering a question with a question.

The guys laughed, and Tristan had a feeling this was part of the game. Challenges, and bets were being made between the lines. Rory had always been unaffected by the guys at Chilton, especially him. Without her knowledge, she had kicked the sport up a notch. She was immune to good looks and popularity. She brought the game to a new level, which had not been previously encountered. She was changing the rules, and shifting the grounds of power, and the guys were yet to learn how to adapt. But then he left, just when he had a feeling he was gaining ground.

"So no one," he asked, turning to his friends, "Has gotten to her?"

"Ice Queen." Matt laughed, but all of them, even Louise saw the implications it his words.

It meant Rory was the ulterment challenge. She was unimpressed by the very things which made seduction that much easier. She was still pure, and perfect. The guy that got her would be famous within the circles of the social elite. She was the one that would bring the most respect if bedded.

"We're lucky if she talks to us." Giles Hamilton, great, great, grand son of the multi millionaire chemist who created some revolutionary sex drug.

Louise laughed at this, "Rory thinks you're dropkicks."

"Why does she think this?" Austin Richardson asked intrigued, his father was the CEO of an African Diamond company.

Austin was old money just like Triston, Matt, and Louise. Giles was still new money, two decades more then it would be old money. Money was useful in making up the hierarchy of their society, but it was power that each of them craved. There was powering in there game, there was something addictive about having the power to hurt someone, to break someone.

"Cause she's heard what you say about other girls." Louise continued, but inwardly she wanted to add, 'and how you treated me'.

"You're her friend aren't you Louise?" Tristan asked, narrowing his clear sky blue eyes as he's mind started to work a hundred miles an hour.

"That's why she's off limits." She said taking a cigarette from Giles. "Plus Paris will kill the guy that hurts her."

"The two bitches are best friends now," Matt said blackly, earning a few laughs. His tone was cruelly humorous rather than crude, and his used his height to tower over Louise but she merely slid away to Giles' side. He was the only one she somewhat trusted. Somewhat being the key word in the description. He wouldn't shield her from them; he just wouldn't purposefully hurt her.

"Watch your language around me gentlemen." Louise said wincing at the profanities.

"That's not what you said in Argentina last year." Tristan retorted skimming his fingers across her arms.

"Tristan." Warned Giles; he liked Louise, and was one of few guys that never fucked her. He kept his distance, yet always protected from the cruder comments.

"I wasn't really concentrating on that if I remember correctly." She said not missing a beat. Louise was used to these digs, but still she wished some things would stay private. "Rory's a friend, which means she's mine. Simply stated, I don't like you acting like horny animals around her."

"How'd you become friends with her?" Tristan asked, interested in how these two very different girls formed a friendship.

"Paris." Louise said referring to the only other girl in the school that was not part of the game. "They were always being thrown together in classes, and newspaper stuff, then one day Chilton noticed that they no longer fought, but talked to each other. Sickening really."

Paris, though beautiful, was always a little too intense. Frightened guys off. She didn't take any crap from anyone. She came from old money, and had business connections with Louise's family, both of whom ran very successful media empires. She was at the top of the bank balance game, yet she seemed so different from the other girls. Too grown up, too concerned by her need to be something. She didn't share the common attitude of 'old enough to know better, too young to care'. She dated rarely, but when she did, it was now with guys normally in university, studying some genius course that no guy from Chilton could hope to get into. Tristan always felt guilty the way guys at Chilton treated her, as if they'd only be interested in her if she was a bet or something. She was better than that, and only in the past few months was she realising it.

James Parker, son of parents who owned the American branch of Porsha cars, nodded, "Scary seeing those two debating against each other in Legal studies. Even worse when they're both against you," he laughed, and the others joined in.

Tristan grinned. Thinking about it, it wasn't really unexpected. Paris and Rory were a lot alike now he though about it. Each of them just different versions resulting in different circumstances. But then why did Rory have such a strong pull on him, where Paris only felt like a sister? Better not to know. Probably the reason would only show how fucked up his mind really was.

"Shit, I forgot. Mrs. Jackson partnered me with Mary for the Criminal Law Project."

He hadn't forgotten.

"Lucky bastard." Brad Riley smirked. He was the youngest child and only son of the congressman of the same name.

"No! She'll give you hell!" James said sharply, "I had to work with her last year, she wouldn't stop bugging me about little detail until the essay was handed in."

"But you did get an A for it." Matt reminded him.

"I better go and find Mary, if you're right she could be getting antsy." Tristan grinned evilly.

"Rory didn't mention working with you. This means two things bible boy, she doesn't know yet, or she's holding back the urge to whine about it." Louise said twirling her hair, her eyes flashing in a predatorily way that left Brad speechless. It was then Louise decided he'd be her next challenge.

"Well, I better go and find out which one sweet thing." Tristan flirted, causing his friends to snicker.

Rolling her hazel eyes, she pointed over to the other side of the lawn. "Play nice." She ordered. "Just remember, you didn't get her last time, and your not likely to get her now."

"She of little faith," Tristan said excusing himself from the group of guys, and started jogging over across the field.

Rory was sitting quite some distance away, and was so absorbed in her book she hadn't noticed Tristan approaching. Tristan took advantage of this time, and examined her. She hadn't changed much. But it was enough to make his mouth dry. Her hair was longer, and fell in soft waves past her shoulder blades to the middle of her back. Her skirt was riding up her thighs just a little, and he couldn't help but react as he saw her long legs of porcelain skin. Her blazer was folded up, and put aside, leaving her in the cream school shirt which was rolled up to her elbows, and had the hem pulled out of her skirt. Her face had a look of utmost concentration as she scanned each page, and in one hand she played with a silver bookmark which glinted as it caught the light. She was ethereal, and angelic, pure, yet complicated, and untouched by the world of lies and money he lived in. He suddenly felt like he and his friends were trying to desecrate a priceless object for the purposes of entertainment. Suddenly he almost regretted what he wanted to do to her.

Gathering his nerve he remembered how much she challenged him, and how much he wanted her. With those thoughts in his head he was able to form words.

"Hey Mary,"

***

"Hey Mary,"

Pausing for a moment she felt her heart skip a beat at the voice. It couldn't be . . .

Looking up she saw the same sky blue eyes, ruffled blonde hair, and cheeky confident smirk. Flashing eyes, golden skin that would have taken a lesser girls breath away only made her stumble for thought for a second or two. Then she got her footing back, then she remembered who he was, and what he was.

"Tristan?"

"Don't act to happy to see me." He joked, sitting down next to her.

"I though you were under lock and key?" she asked shutting her book knowing from experience he wasn't going anywhere soon.

"Good behaviour bond got me out early."

"How much did that cost daddy?" she retorted dryly.

"Worth every penny."

"I'll bet," she said sharply, letting him knew she was not amused.

"Ohh, did my little Mary grow up while I was gone?" he smirked leaning closer to the brunette.

His breath left her skin heated, and her flustered. She was more effected by him that she'd ever admit. All she would admit was that it was better to stay away from him. He was cruel, his eyes would charm her, but he would hurt her. He was too far-gone in bad habits to change for anyone. He didn't want to change, and as she looked at him she knew he hadn't in the time he spent incarcerated in Military School.

"Is there a reason you're here. I mean apart from making up for lost insult time?" she questioned, seeing his gaze wonder along her legs she blushed, and hurriedly pulled her skirt down over her legs.

"You're no fun," he whimpered.

"Tristan." She warned, and he moved back a little.

"Mrs. Jackson partnered my with you for the project."

"What?" She cried, but seeing the look in the blonde's eyes she realised he was telling her the truth, but just cause he was, didn't mean she wanted to believe him, "No, I've already started, and researched it. You're not ridding my tailcoats to a good grade without doing any work."

"What makes you think I'll slack off?" he asked, amused at her now flustered state.

"Your don't look like you've changed at all from your jail term,"

"You've been spending too much time with Paris," he commented hearing the Paris 'don't mess with me' tone in her voice.

Rory sigh, realising she couldn't get out of this. "I'll lend you my work, just don't lose it or mess it up. The project is on legal killings, you know like during war and stuff, and we have to compare that to murder and manslaughter. It's pretty straight forward."

"Thanks Rory," he said as she handed him a stack of papers.

"Just don't lose it okay, that everything I've found." Her cobalt eyes regarded him seriously, before breaking away. She had stopped telling herself not to look at him in that way once he left, but now it looked like she'd have to start all over again.

"Trust me Mary." He said smiling, then adding, "Heard you got sent to the coordinators. Finally someone caught onto your world domination plans?"

"Goodbye Tristan." She said sharply walking away leaving Tristan with a smirk on his face.

He could tell this was going to be a good year.

***

Rory couldn't stop watching the clock. Time was moving so slowly. Why did there always seem so much more time to endure when there was only fifteen minutes of class to go? Glancing back down at her Philosophy Essay she flinched looking at the red marks covering the page. A D+. A fucking D+. How do you get a D+ in Philosophy? Philosophy isn't a fact class! It's a personal opinion class, the best sort. And she got a D+ in it. What was so wrong with her opinion? She'd spent all week on the essay, but it still wasn't good enough. Flipping the essay over, she folded it into a folder, away from her sight.

"What'd you get Ror?" Madeline asked from her seat beside Rory. Neither Paris or Louise took this class, and the two girls had formed a fragile classroom based friendship because of it.

"I haven't looked yet," Rory lied, and not for the first time was she grateful Madeline didn't question her answer.

"Sure you haven't Gilmore." Sniggered Giles disbelief showing on his flawless face, his gorgeous eyes flashing dangerously, "Just like I'm sure that lost little puppy dog look is based on your stellar A+ mark."

"And I'm, sure you IQ is based on your intelligence not your bank balance." She retorted.

"Shame you couldn't say the same thing about yourself," he retorted sharply, like a slap to the face.

"What's that meant to mean?" Rory asked innocently, but neither Giles, or Madeline missed the razor like undercurrent to her comment.

"Is it true your mother was cut of from the family inheritances after some one night stand got her pregnant?" James asked, his voice was even, but cruel.

Rory felt her face flush, but she wouldn't let herself lose, even if she should have known better. "No, it was after she followed the Bangles around for a year,"

Madeline laughed, but it didn't lighten the mood. But Madeline would laugh at anything, that's what made her so likeable in her own unique way. She didn't have Louise's sex appeal, or Paris's frightening presents, for god sake, she doted her I's with smiley faces, and her favourite colour was pink, cause she though it was a happy colour. What she did have was an infatuating glorious way of seeing her world.

"Was that before or after she gave birth to her bastard child?" James asked, his eyes were laughing cruel, at her. He was putting her back in her place, and he was enjoying this.

If someone were looking into the room they'd see an atmosphere of a productive classroom. Around them the teacher was writing on the whiteboard. The students were talking and joking. It was normally a relaxed class, one of the few you could let lose in. But as the side of the room, where the group of teenagers sat, the mood was dark, mean, and volatile.

"Rory?" Madeline whispered, a worried look covering her face.

Rory looked down to her books, she couldn't bring herself to meet their faces. Looking down at her hands, a glint of silver caught her eyes. Her new watch. Catier. New. Pretty. Expensive. A gift from Emily. It was only one minute to the bell. But she didn't absorb any of this information. Seconds had pasted since James had spoken.

"No cutting insult Gilmore?" he mocked leaning her desk.

Rory looked up, and for a second she hated him. He knew nothing about her, and she knew nothing about him, yet the emotions that cursed through her veins were so potent. Around her, everyone was packing up, and standing by the door, waiting for the bell to go. Every so often, a student would duck out into the hallway when the teacher's back was turned.

Standing up, Rory gathered her books. Looking at James, she felt her body shaking with fury.

"You fucking dickhead." She spat out.

The bell sounded, announcing the end of the school day. But neither of the four students moved for a second, then Rory started to walk away.

"At least I'm not a bastard."

Rory stopped. Part of her mind was screaming at her to let it go. But the less sane part of her was in control. Turning she took in his malicious smirk, his dark uncaring eyes. His self-centered smirk. Walking back towards him she pulled out her thick philosophy textbook, and swung it into the air. He didn't even have time to react. With a solid thump, it impacted into James flawless face. Blood spurted out of his nose, and Rory was quite sure that she broke it. Giles rushed to his side, but Madeline stayed put, she was frozen to the spot, unable to do anything to stop the sequence of events that Rory had set off. Blood dripped on the floor, and Rory suddenly felt afraid. Everything was spinning dangerously out of control.

"Bitch . . ." James spat.

Suddenly, he hit her. He didn't hit her hard, he was too well trained by years of social etiquette, but it was enough to send to the ground. James and Giles stood over her, but as they advanced, Madeline pushed them aside. Wrapping her arms around her shaking friend, Madeline pulled Rory to her feet.

"Go." Madeline commanded towards to two towering figures. "Now!" her voice was high pitched, and on the verge of panicking. But for some reason it worked, and the two men left. But not before giving Rory a scary smile that made her shiver, and hold onto Madeline to dear life.

"Rory?" Madeline asked quietly. "It's okay now."

To classroom was empty apart from them, and so was the hallway outside. How much time had past since the bell, neither of the girls knew for sure. But Rory was still shaking, and her face had gone a frighteningly pale colour. Her left shoulder was sending spasms of pain as the shock wore off from James's hit, and it was starting to swell.

"Madeline," Rory choked out. Burring her head into her friends shoulder she held back sobs.

"They're not normally like that Ror, please don't cry, please," Madeline whispered leading the upset girl out of the classroom and down the long halls of Chilton.

"I'm alright," Rory managed to get out, but her voice was broken and quiet. Mechanically she packed her books into her back, and then relocked her locker. Looking down she realised she'd packed the wrong books. Swearing softly she repeated her actions, finding relief in the mundane task. She was still in shock, she still couldn't believe what had happened.

"That stuff doesn't happen Rory, they just got angry. They're good guys most of the time." Madeline said taking her friend's bag out of her shaking hands. The wrong books were still in there, but Madeline didn't say anything.

"I've missed my bus." Rory said mindlessly. Her head not quite thinking properly yet.

"Rory, you have the jeep today." Madeline reminded, her chin length raven hair softly shimmering in the afternoon light.

"Ohh," she replied, she looked like she was a million miles away.

"I'm driving you home." The raven-haired girl ordered.

"No, it's okay. I think I need some time to . . . cool off." Rory said leaving her friend standing in the middle of the Chilton hall alone.

"Rory!" Madeline called, but the other girl didn't answer.

Once again Madeline was left alone. Alone. This time it was one of her best friends that left her. She understood why Rory left though. The week before it had been her parents. They were going to France, 'the weather was better this time of year,' they told her when she'd asked why. She didn't understand they left though. So in the ever approaching darkness, the jet haired girl packed her bag and drove herself to a desolate home where she stayed only an hour until Louise called her about a party in Hartford. That was Madeline's life, sometimes she wondered what it felt like not to be left, but then again, she made it her purpose not to think about stuff like that. Dark stuff only made her upset, and a girl like her wasn't upset ever. A girl like her should always smile, and she couldn't do that by trying to understand why people always left her.

***

Thank you again to the wonderful Belle for helping with ideas and always encouraging me to keep writing.