A/N: Sequel to Some Assembly Required. You don't have to read the first to understand this, but it's an idea. If you didn't like that one, you're sure not going to like this.
Warning: Language.
AU. (I guess, unless the GG writers get really awesome.) Set in about 2020. And yeah, I totally get that people aren't really interested in reading cracky, future fics but...oh well.
XOXO
"Miss Blair, Miss Blair." Dorota was kneeling by Blair's side, gently shaking her arm.
Blair blinked sleepily at the sweet, familiar face of her maid, illuminated by the glow of her lamp. "Wha...?" She couldn't help the slight whine to her voice.
"It's Miss Serena. She is home." Dorota pursed her lips, unwilling to say anymore, unwilling to say anything that might be misconstrued as an opinion.
Home. Serena was home. Relief larger than the ocean swept through Blair's body. It made her want to close her eyes and just wallow in the feeling.
She easily saw through her maid's silence. "Where?" she asked with a sigh, already guessing. She reached out a hand, confirming that the other side of the bed was still untouched. Like it had been for the last week.
"Her and Mister Chuck, they be in the billiard room." Dorota stood, pulling her dressing gown tight around her plump body, signalling that that really was the last she'd say on the matter.
The tingling thrill was still so large that Blair couldn't work up the disapproval to make a disgusted sound at the mere mention of Chuck's private room.
Blair quickly pulled on a robe, padding down the stairs as quietly as possible. Towards the bottom of the stairs she sat, pulling her knees to her body. She peered through the gap in the railings, where the door to Chuck's den was left mostly open.
She wrapped her arm around a banister, resting her forehead on the cool wood.
Serena and Chuck shared the piano stool, the line of their bodies meeting in that comfortable and easy manner they had. Soft notes reached Blair's ears, broken-up by the sound of missed keys and Serena's laughter. Her husband played the adequate and uninspired notes to Heart and Soul, simultaneously telling Serena her keys to play.
Chuck had always mocked the UESers who pushed their kids into something as useless as the arts, while Serena hadn't been able to sit through the first fifteen minutes of the piano lessons Lily had bought.
The noisy clinker of glass suggested that Chuck had drunk enough to make his pouring clumsy, but they were both sober enough to still talk in a stage whisper.
Serena let out a girlish squeal and slapped Chuck's shoulder.
Blair hadn't been able to pull of that sound even when she was a child, but it didn't surprise her that it sounded natural on Serena's lips. She didn't like the idea of Chuck and Serena talking. Not when she hadn't talked to Serena first. Not when Chuck was barely speaking to her.
Blair barely managed to hold herself back. Chuck was going through one of his withdrawn periods, drinking by himself a lot. But Serena had slowed down a lot; at least since that awful period that Blair did her best to repress. As much as she hated Chuck at the moment, she trusted that he would stop soon, that he'd look after himself and Serena as well.
Serena had been gone for five months.
After the bad days, she'd given Serena an ultimatum. Come back soon, or don't come back at all. Talk to me while you're gone, or don't talk to me again. And even though Serena had been fragile, the barest inch away from breaking, Blair had been just sick and so tired of playing catch-up with a girl who could run that fast. It was as much for Serena as for herself. She knew being away wouldn't help. It wasn't healing it was just running.
So five months wasn't long considering Serena's past...vacations. But it felt long when her and Chuck had been fighting for most of that time. Chuck had had his dirty, filthy, hooker secretary to amuse himself with. Blair was still thrilled to have driven away that skank with veiled threats. But she'd felt alone and lost and had nothing but hastily scrawled postcards and a few voice messages from the girl who supposedly loved her.
She yawned into her arm, before walking back to bed. She crawled under the covers feeling unsteady and worn-out.
Before she could fall into a deep sleep, her eyes snapped open at the sound of poorly smothered laughter and a sudden dip in the bed.
Chuck eased Serena down, prying her clinging hands from his collar. She was mumbling soft words that Blair was too tired to make out. Chuck put a gentle hand over Serena's mouth, leaning close. "Enough. Sleep."
Something about the slow words seeped into Serena's psyche and made her curl up on the mattress.
Quietly he moved around to Blair's side of the bed. Chuck crouched beside her. She wanted to say something to make the moment less tense. She wanted things between them to be easy. But nothing was easy anymore.
Chuck unfroze, giving her the bland look she'd come to expect. "She started talking about..." His eyes drifted over Blair's body to where Serena was glassily staring in his direction. He doubted she was coherent enough to eavesdrop, but it was best to play it safe. "Him and the other stuff, so I cut her off."
Blair nodded, trying to think of questions to keep him by her side just for a little longer, but she could barely hold her eyes open.
"I have to go. Be back Thursday." He hesitated before placing a swift kiss on her lips.
He left and for the millionth time Blair wondered if this time it was forever.
Serena edged closer, cautiously touching Blair's back. She trailed her fingers uncertainly over the thin nightgown. Blair's rebuffs tended to sting in the worst places.
"Missed you, B."
Blair closed her eyes at the warm breath on her neck, thought about hissing then you shouldn't have left, but she was tired and those words were as old as they were useless. Instead she guided Serena's hand around her waist, letting herself fall into the touch. There was always time to fight in the morning.
XOXO
Serena woke early. With slow, careful movements she pulled herself out of bed.
With another quiet movement, she closed the door to the en suite. Tiny mirrored tiles lined the floors, the walls were black marble. It was opulent and so very Chuck and Blair.
She stared at her reflection above the his and hers sinks. Her eyes were puffy, the flesh of her cheeks stained an unnatural pink, her head was covered with more knots than actual hair. Gone were the days of partying till dawn and waking up at midday to start all over again. Like most things, she had never noticed them slipping away.
She searched eyes, the corners of her mouth, looking for wrinkles. But there wasn't even the faintest edging of lines. There should be, she knew. There should be something, a sign, a hint of how weary and broken she was. Some external warning of the fuck-up on the inside. But it was the same reflection that had been staring back at her for as long as she could remember.
She turned away when she couldn't stand looking at her for any longer. Slumping against the cold wall, she let water wash half a bottle of gin and a seven hour flight off her body.
Blair waited in the dining room, disinterestedly flipping through the paper. Serena came through the French doors, her hair pulled into a low bun.
She gave Serena five minutes of breakfast before starting the interrogation.
"Have a good night?" Blair kept flipping through the pages.
Serena eyed her warily. "Fine."
"Where were you?" Please don't say the Hamptons.
"Milan."
Blair bit back an exclamation of joy. She could handle anything but a reunion. Serena's divorce had nearly destroyed them all. The only thing worse than the three months of tears and broken hearts in the lawyer's office, was the three months before that—silence, and vodka, pretty smiles, and we're-okays.
She'd set the East Hamptons on fire before she let Serena do that to herself again.
Most people couldn't see the difference. But Blair could. Hers to see. Hers to know. Serena might not look any different, but there weren't as many smiles, childish giggles had given way in favour of hesitant high spun laughs—a breakable sound. Pretty navy eyes didn't dance, they just kind of hid things.
"And you're here because...?"
Serena shook her head, eyes shifting away uncomfortably. "I just kind of needed home."
Blair nodded, turning back towards the lifestyle section. She wished Chuck was here. Chuck was the only one who made things better. Made the lawyers cooperate, made sure paper work was filed, made Serena smile—made Blair okay.
The monitor in the foyer buzzed and Blair moved with reluctance. She stopped by Serena's side, brushing a kiss over the blonde's brow. "I needed you too. Don't leave again."
Serena searched Blair's face with an odd kind of longing. She wanted something to hold onto, something that would hold back. "I won't. Never again," she promised with a desperate sort of vehemence.
It was an empty promise, the kind Blair had heard again and again. But she nodded, smiling like she believed.
There was a green light flashing on the monitor in the foyer, which meant the doormen had left a message. Already there was a rising discomfort in Blair's chest. She could count the number of people allowed into the apartment without explicit permission on four fingers. Her mother and Cyrus were still in France and Serena was in the dining room.
The elevator chimed open.
Nate barrelled out. His grey shirt wasn't buttoned properly and his suit jacket was missing. Piles of folders swayed uneasily in his hand. He gave her a small smile in greeting, stooping to kiss her cheek. "I'm already running so late, but Chuck wanted these forms. I don't know why he needs the memos of Councillor Scott from the last twenty years and I don't want to know."
He doesn't need them. Faintly she realised she should say something, but It was like one of those dreams where the trains heading for you and your limbs aren't working.
"Don't let him tell me if it's something I could go to prison for," he half-joked, heading for the office.
Blair closed her eyes, trying to find the will to go in there. She trailed behind him, circling around his frozen form in the dining room.
Serena's legs were pulled up under her chin while she idly poked at the grapes on her plate. Nate just stood there with a kind of deer-in-the-headlights look.
Serena shot her a subtle glare and Blair gave her most apologetic look. If she'd had psychic powers she totally would have sent out the ex-husband-heading-your-way signal.
"Hey Natie."
Nate shook off his momentary lapse, quickly masking his expression into something not horrified. "Hey S," he returned quietly, a wealth of repressed emotion in those simple words.
With that he continued on into the office, leaving both girls highly disturbed.
"If he comes back in here with a gun, you're on your own, sweety," Blair warned.
Serena just sighed, shoving a fistful of berries in her mouth. "Had to happen sooner or later, I guess."
Blair's eyes narrowed. She would have chosen never. But the fact that Chuck had chosen now, was more troubling than she imagined.
What game was he playing now?
XOXO