Disclaimer: I wish! Don't own 'em unfortunately. And don't I have to claim that I do before I disclaim them? Oh well…nope, they all belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino.

Rating: Well it's starts off as PG-13 but I will have to knock it up to R in the later chapters.

Summary: I don't want to give it a way. Just read it. LOL

Pairing: Dean/Rory/Tristan/Paris…all other characters appear too. It will turn into R/T afterwards, I assure you.

Author's ramblings: I am terribly upset that Chad Michael Murray is not in Season 2 but I am hoping against all hope that he will be back Season 3. All you Tristan fans should definitely let the producers know that we need CMM back! Anyway, this is set in Rory's senior year at Chilton. May include some spoilers from Season 2. Other than that, it's what I think should happen. Feedback is good for the author's soul people!

Whatever Tomorrow Brings

Chapter 1: No Choice In The Matter

"Lorelai, it's not like I am asking you to compromise your parenting abilities," Emily Gilmore exclaimed exasperated into the phone. Her tone caused her thirty-three year old daughter to giggle like a schoolgirl on the other end. "I'm just asking to speak with my granddaughter."

It was a nice day in September and the Gilmores had just come back from coffee at Luke's. Rory had immediately insisted on preparing a list of things she needed for her senior year at Chilton and Lorelai had agreed to help. In actuality, Lorelai had only wanted to whine and complain, hoping that Rory would get frustrated and decide to do something fun. Rory had thanked God for Emily's well-timed phone call.

"Okay Mom," Lorelai laughed. She loved ragging on her mother. She could almost see the red-haired woman's eyes flashing with annoyance, her hands on her well-tailored hips. Rory, Lorelai's seventeen-year-old daughter, sat across from her mother at the kitchen table, disapproval mixed with amusement on her face. Lorelai handed her the phone. "It's Superwoman on the phone for you."

"Wonder Woman," Rory corrected her mother. "It was Supergirl."

"I stand corrected."

Rory put the receiver to her ear and smiled brightly. "Hi Grandma, how are you?"

"I'm fine Rory," Emily said, the annoyance gone from her voice and an underlying softness replacing it. "I called to inform you that you received an invitation today."

"I did?" Rory asked and raised an eyebrow at Lorelai who raised one back. "From who? For what? And why did it come there?"

"It's for a party, apparently," Emily answered sounding very pleased and Rory moaned inwardly knowing what was coming next. "A birthday party for Tristan DuGrey this weekend. Does Tristan go to Chilton?"

Rory winced, memories of the blond haired boy that made her first year at Chilton Prep a living hell. Her mother caught her expression and furrowed her brow quizzically. Rory was surprised that the older Lorelai hadn't jumped in a said something yet. "Well he used to. He disappeared after sophomore year. I think he transferred schools."

"Well apparently, he's back," Emily stated. "His parent's are throwing him his eighteenth birthday party and all the Gilmores are invited. It's Saturday night at the DuGrey mansion in Hartford. You'll talk your mother into it, won't you?"

Rory looked at Lorelai who had decided that listening to one end of a conversation was boring and has started to brew a fresh pot of coffee. Rory sighed into the phone. The last thing she wanted to do was attend a party in Hartford and have that party be thrown in honor of Tristan DuGrey turning eighteen. "Grandma, I don't want to go."

"Why not?" Emily's voice wasn't a whine. Gilmore women never whined. Until Lorelai, of course. Her tone however was demanding. And Rory knew better than to mess with Emily Gilmore when she was dead-set on seeing it through.

"Tristan and I weren't exactly friends that year," Rory explained and she watched as her mother turned around again, suddenly surprised by the new development in the conversation. "I don't want to spend my last weekend before senior year at a stuffy Chilton party."

"Rory," Emily's voice was surprisingly calm. "When I threw you that sixteenth birthday party, your mother informed me that the children invited to that party weren't your friends. But they came anyway. The DuGreys obviously want us there and it would be impolite not to go. I would expect an excuse from your mother, but not from you."

Rory swallowed hard, cornered by logic, and forced a smile on her face. "Of course, Grandma. I'll talk Mom into it and then I'll call back for the details."

Emily sounded pleased as she said good-bye and Rory looked up at her mother, who was grinning mischievously. "So what did Emily want you to go to now? Am I supposed to be accompanying you? And did you say Tristan?"

"A birthday party yes and yes," Rory answered with a sigh. "He's turning eighteen. The party is this Saturday and I hate that she's making me go."

"Welcome to my life, babe," Lorelai said as she handed her daughter a mug of coffee. "I'm sure it won't be that bad. We'll make an appearance and then I'll fake being sick after eating some wonderfully vile appetizer and if we're lucky enough you won't even have to wish the Evil One happy birthday."

"I wish I never knew him," Rory said as she took a sip of her coffee. "Without him there to pester me junior year, the only one I had to fend off was Paris. Do you know how much it will suck to see him again and have him in my classes? I bet he hasn't changed at all."

"You're getting worked up over something that may be nothing," Lorelai soothed as she wandered into the living room and then shouted from there. "I mean from the way you say things ended between you two after that whole PJ Harvey fiasco, he'd have to be a glutton for punishment to want bother you again. He'll probably stay as far as he possibly can from you."

"Yeah," Rory shouted back glumly as she started into her coffee mug. "As far as he possibly can."

She closed her eyes and wondered why that idea didn't sit to well with her. She didn't want to be tortured by Tristan DuGrey this year. She didn't want to have to see his smug smile, his annoyingly contradicting eyes that could turn the most extreme shades of blue; almost turquoise when he was sad and a deep, sparkling oceanic blue when he was happy, or teasing her or making one of his lewd comments. She didn't want to see him making out with his dozens of girlfriends and stringing a long Paris in the process.

But what she did want was to see him. Just to see him. How he looked, if he had changed, if he remembered who she was, if they could try again at that friendship that they had tried to establish before PJ Harvey and Paris.

And she didn't want to feel that way. She had been surprised when she had first found out that he had transferred schools. And it had been odd not to see him in the hallways, not to bicker with him near her locker and not to have one of their witty repartees.

After the wonderful summer with Dean she had had after sophomore year, she had been ready to combat with Tristan at Chilton in September. But he hadn't been there and much to her disdain she missed him. But it was something she got over; it wasn't like they were best friends anyway.

And now he was back.

At their school.

In her life.

And she felt torn because part of her wanted to see him and parted of her wished he would just go away.

She wasn't ready to face Tristan DuGrey again.

She glanced at the calendar on the wall and her eyes landed on the date of Tristan's birthday party.

It wasn't like she had a choice.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Tristan ran a hand through his tousled hair and plastered a smile across his face for the sake of his parents. He took the steps as quickly as he could and stopped mid-way down the stairs at the sight he saw. His mother was at the bottom of the stairwell, ordering people around as they added the finishing touches to the party that was about to begin in a few minutes.

His eighteenth birthday party.

He was back in Hartford. He was going to go back to Chilton to finish high school. And he felt twelve. Insignificant. Unimportant. Unwanted.

He didn't want to come back to Hartford. Not after the wonderful year he had had in LA. In LA, where he lived alone, answered to no one and went to school without a care in the world. His grandfather, Janlan DuGrey, had set aside some money for him, much to the disdain on his son, William. And Janlan had advised Tristan to move away for a year, away from his parents, away from Hartford and away from Chilton.

And he had felt so free there. So free that he had enrolled in a public high school. Some place where no one knew his name and no one cared whether he was a DuGrey or the local paperboy. A select few, people he considered his good friends, were the only ones who knew he was rich. And they didn't care. They were genuine and they were real. They cared about him just for who he was and not because he was Tristan DuGrey.

As he swooped down the final step, one of the servants dropped and envelope to the ground. Tristan stopped her from picking it up and bent down to pick it up himself, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. As he read the name on the envelope, his eyes widened. Albeit the name was written wrong, it didn't take a scientist to figure out whom it was addressed to. The Gilmores.

Rory Gilmore.

Tristan closed his eyes as images of the brown-haired girl that had put him through such turmoil filled his mind. She had been so different from the people he knew. So real. Untainted by money, unaffected by gossip, unreceptive to rudeness and impervious to trivial, silly things that didn't matter in the long run.

She amused him at first. Attracted to her, even though he hadn't realized then. Infatuated by the big blue eyes, enamored by the witty tongue and mesmerized by her radiant smile and unique sense of humor.

But she did more to him than make him develop a crush on her. She infuriated him with her self-righteousness. Granted she had every right to be that way with him because he was a jerk but they had gotten past that. He had apologized and they had started towards a tentative friendship. It wasn't what he wanted with her, but he was ready to take her anyway he could get her.

Yeah right DuGrey, a voice scolded him. You knew you couldn't handle just being her friend. That's why you bought those damn concert tickets. You wanted her; in every way you could have her. Shaking his head, he let self-disgust settle over him. Here he was, hating himself for screwing everything up with Rory when she probably forgot he existed until the invite to his party was sent to her. She was probably still with her bagboy boyfriend Dean.

Suddenly, the realization that she might be actually coming to his party set in. He wasn't ready to see her. He wasn't even sure he wanted to see her. It didn't matter if she didn't come either. He really didn't want her there. He couldn't care less if she came or not. Yeah, you keep telling that to yourself DuGrey. You're doing a real bang of job of it.

This wasn't how he wanted to see her. Not at a stupid party that his parents wanted to throw because they hadn't thrown one in ages. His turning eighteen was just a convenient coincidence and the right time to let people know that Tristan was back in town. To stop the gossip and speculation as to where he was and why he had left. Killing several birds with one stone.

He was out of his element in his own home and he didn't want Rory to see him that way. The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the guests and he sighed wearily.

It wasn't like he had a choice.