Fandom:Gossip Girl (TV-based)
Story Title: A Case of You
Pairing(s): Chuck/Serena
Rating: PG-13
Summary:Chuck and Serena are officially step-siblings. Now what?

Chapter Title: You and Me Then?
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 1,166

AN: I tried to describe Crest Hollow Country Club as accurately as possible, having only researched it online. If there are any glaring discrepancies that somehow take away from your enjoyment of this chapter, let me know and I'll see what I can do.

A Case of You
by Theyski

Chapter One: You and Me Then?

"Tell me this is a dream," I begged. "A horrible, horrible dream."

Blair arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "This is real, S," she said flatly. "In about an hour, Bart Bass and your mom will be pronounced man and wife. You have my sympathies."

I refused to give up. "At least just pinch me."

She obliged.

"Ouch! Blair!"

"You told me to," she said, throwing her gloved hands up in defense.

I sighed and let my gaze wander around the formal English garden of Crest Hollow Country Club, where my mother's wedding would be taking place. A path of red, pink and white rose petals was strewn on the trimmed grass, leading to an archway of hydrangeas and baby's breath. It was the perfect romantic setting, which totally belied the fact that something straight out of Twilight Zone was about to occur.

"This is a huge mistake," I muttered.

"Would you rather your mom marry Dan's dad?" challenged Blair.

"God, no!"

"Well, then, chill---" She broke off in mid-sentence, suddenly stiffening. "Uh oh. World's biggest asshole at three o'clock."

Before I could do anything more than groan, an arm slipped around my waist and I was engulfed in the smell of Armani.

"Hello, ladies," Chuck drawled. "Don't you two just look adorable in your matching outfits? This takes me back to our grade school days, the long-lost age of innocence. Long, long lost."

I rolled my eyes, stepping out of his grasp. "You know who should get lost, Chuck? You."

"As much as I would love to engage in our special brand of witty repartee, I came over here to collect the maid of honor and the bridesmaid most attached to her hip." Chuck nodded mockingly in Blair's direction. "The ceremony's about to start."

I felt like I was going to vomit. Blair and I followed Chuck to where the rest of the procession had begun to assemble. The groomsmen were all wearing midnight black tuxedos, which nicely complemented the bridesmaids' flowing pale pink dresses.

"Hey, S," Blair said, "what's the color scheme of yourwedding going to be?"

I laughed. "It's too soon to be thinking about that. I'd like to graduate college and establish a career first."

"Mine will be silver and royal blue," she said dreamily as she took her place beside Nate. "And my gown will have a long train that drags out behind me for miles, and---"

"Should I start running now?" Nate joked, earning a reproving look from Blair. After all these two had been through, I was almost certain they would end up together.

"At my wedding, we'll do absinthe shots instead of vows," said Chuck. "And there'll be an archway of the finest marijuana imported from the lush earth of some struggling third world country. It'll be a decadent celebration of the pleasures of hedonism---"

"Like your everyday life," Nate supplied.

"Exactly, Nathaniel, my friend. Exactly."

"Oh, please, Chuck," I snapped. "Like anyone in her right mind would ever marry you."

"Contrary to what you seem to believe, S, I am quite desirable," he shot back.

And he really was. There were some girls who would commit murder just so he would talk to them. I could never figure out, for the life of me, why Chuck Bass was so popular with the opposite sex.

Well, okay, maybe I do know why, I reluctantly admitted, glancing at him. He looked breathtakingly handsome in his tuxedo, oozing irreverent charm and casual elegance even while he was just standing still. If I didn't know what he was really like, I might---

Yuck. Okay. Do not go there, Serena. You do not want to go there.

Soon all the guests had arrived and settled down in the rows of white chairs placed on either side of the aisle, and the ceremony began.

"Would you like to hold on to me now?" Chuck asked suggestively. "I know you're dying to."

"I'd like you to go to hell," I shot back. Why did I have to be the maid of honor? More importantly, why did he have to be the best man?

Because you're the daughter of the bride and he's the son of the groom.

Oh, God, this was such a twisted mess.

When it was our turn to walk, Chuck took my hand, just like we'd been taught at rehearsal, and we started down the aisle. The soft, sweet melody from the piano washed over me, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the whispers among the guests.

"They make a lovely couple," an old lady declared sincerely as we passed by her. "But much too young to be getting married."

I would have frozen in my tracks if it wasn't for Chuck's slight, almost reassuring squeeze on my hand.

"My great-aunt Mabel," he murmured in my ear. "As senile as she is blind, alas."

I couldn't help but swallow a giggle.

"I can't believe Great-Aunt Mabel thought you and Chuck were the bride and groom!" Blair exclaimed in between peals of laughter at the reception, which was taking place by the club's pool. "It was hilarious!"

"You heard that?" I asked in disbelief.

"Everyone heard it, Serena," said Dan dryly, looking far from amused.

"You know, Dan, if you're jealous, the person you should really be mad at is Mabel," said Blair. "You should call her out."

"You mean like a duel?" Dan asked. His expression relaxed somewhat, as if he realized he was taking the situation too seriously.

"Yeah."

"Hmm." Dan rubbed his chin. "I suppose I could cram in some fencing lessons. Plus, I have the distinct advantage of not being confined to a wheelchair."

"Aww, you would injure a ninety-year-old woman to defend my honor?" I batted my eyelashes at him. "That's the most romantic thing anyone has ever offered to do for me."

Chuck appeared beside me, holding a tray of champagne glasses. "Yes, Humphrey here is a regular Don Juan. Or should we amend that to Don Quixote?"

"Well, Chuck, you seem to be the one serving drinks," I said quickly, noticing Dan's fist clenching at his side. "That makes you… Pancho?"

"Now, S, that's no way to talk to your husband." Chuck eased the tray into our midst and we all grabbed a glass. The five of us--- Nate, Blair, Dan, Chuck and me--- were standing directly beside the pool. A cascading waterfall, backlit by pastel pink and gold, gurgled in the background, the sound mingling with the laughter and conversation of the other guests. Occasionally I would spot Mom and Bart from the corner of my eye, chatting with friends and relatives, every inch the gracious society couple.

After Chuck handed the tray to a passing waiter, Nate held up his glass. "Shall we propose a toast?" he asked.

"Allow me," said Chuck.

The rest of us waited expectantly.

"To me and Serena," he drawled with a flourish, "and our continued happiness."

I pushed him into the pool.