Warning: Touch of femslash. Don't like: don't read.
May, 2005.
C'est le malaise du moment
L'épidémie qui s'étend
La fête est finie on descend
Les pensées qui glacent la raison
Paupières baissées, visage gris
Surgissent les fantômes de notre lit
On ouvre le loquet de la grille
Du taudis qu'on appelle maison
Dorota flittered around the doorway, wringing her hands. "Mister Chuck," she shook her head, "he up to nothing good."
Blair let out a sigh, pulling on her dressing gown. "Enough fussing, I can deal with Chuck."
Her hair was in the same immaculate bun it had been in when she fell asleep—she glanced at her clock—five hours ago.
A dark chuckle made her fly down the stairs, slowing only when she reached the foyer. She was met with an increasingly familiar picture. Chuck was leaning nonchalantly against the doorway, garish outfit ridiculous even in the dim light. Serena clung to him with one arm thrown around his neck; the other was waving animatedly with her slurred speech and causing her to sway precariously in her heels.
His hand roved over the small of Serena's back, both inappropriate and steadying. Blair's eyes fixed on that hand dangerously, if it moved an inch lower she'd have Dorota drag him out by the ear.
Protect me from what I want
Protect me from what I want
Protect me from what I want
Protect me
Protect me Protège-moi, protège-moi
"What did you do?" she snapped at Chuck, moving quickly across the tiles to the couple's side.
Chuck turned from the blonde in his arms to the brunette glaring accusingly at him. He couldn't stop it even if he tried, which he did.
"I brought you your BFF,"he said in a mockingly light tone. "Intact and unmolested." He gave Serena an indulgent look, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Well, reasonably unmolested. I'll collect my reward later."
Chuck's eyes travelled over Blair's body in the way that always made her want to tug her shirt up, even though she knew he couldn't possibly see anything.
Her voice was sweet and venomous. "Thank you, somuch. We're lucky to have you."
"Blair!" Serena squealed, just noticing her friend's arrival. In the blink of an eye she'd detangled herself from Chuck, moving to Blair on too long legs that managed to even stumble gracefully. She slung her arms around the smaller girl, burying her face in a neck that smelt of clean linen and lilac shampoo.
"Where's Nate?" Blair asked, wrapping an arm around Serena while simultaneously ignoring her giggled whispers. Nate had brought Serena back a couple times, and she trusted him more around drunken blondes then Chuck. (She still had no reason not to.)
"Self-medicating," Chuck said. He glared, spiteful because the girls wanted the white knight and got the dark wizard instead. "I could have just taken her to Carter's. He would appreciate my efforts."
Blair let out a huff. "You wouldn't dare. That...low-life is nothing but a skeaze." Carter Baizen was bad news, but none of her friends paid attention to her opinions about the boy.
Serena perked up. "B!" she admonished. "Carter is a sweety. He buys me cocktails." She gave Blair a dreamy smile.
"Ugh." Blair was doing her best to lead the blonde upstairs.
Chuck watched the exchange silently, surprised by Blair's instruction: "Don't just stand there!"
He froze before moving to Serena's other side. Blair had never asked him for help before. He was Chuck Bass, and as such, was unfit and untrustworthy around an inebriated Serena.
(They all conveniently forgot that he was the one bringing her home, the one who with chilling glares made sure no one got toorough with their unstable princess.)
Sommes nous les jouets du destin
Souviens toi des moments divins
Planants, éclatés au matin
Et maintenant nous sommes tout seuls
Perdus les rêves de s'aimer
Le temps où on avait rien fait
Il nous reste toute une vie pour pleurer
Et maintenant nous sommes tout seuls
"You should have come out, B. Georgie and me played Donatella and Clara and Donatella stole Travis and Sandro's wallets and cells. And then she sent horrible texts to their contacts." Serena giggled happily, unfazed that her friend was a felon.
"That's just great, S." Blair struggled with Serena's dress. The green lycra clung to every inch and seemed to stick even tighter to the curves the fourteen-year-old shouldn't have had. Serena had attempted to help with fumbling fingers, but Blair had just ended up with a stiletto in her shin.
"Should I give you two some alone time?" Chuck asked.
He was doing his best to not be a creep, as Blair would put it, but the girls weren't exactly making it easy. Serena was squirming around on the bed in heels and underwear, while Blair attempted to pin her down. The temptation to take a photo made his fingers twitch, but for some reason he wanted to keep this image to himself: Serena's laughter, her long limbs twisting, Blair's babydoll riding up her smooth legs, happy sounds leaving her mouth even as she tried not to be amused.
"Yes! But help me get her into the bathroom first."
Chuck sneered at the request, but did what she wanted. Always would...Eventually.
Serena seemed to deflate almost instantly in the bathroom, curling up on the edge of the tub. She refused to have a shower, demanding a bath. With bubbles. Lots of them.
Blair sat on the other end, talking to him in hushed tones, like he wasn't welcome only because of his association to his taller, more tanned, more handsome best friend.
Chuck leaned against the far wall, slightly uncomfortable. He enjoyed this. Serena's stupid jokes, Blair's witty remarks. Enjoyed it too much. And none of it was his to enjoy.
Because Blair loved Nate and Nate loved Blair, and should the two ever divorce they all knew how the friends would be divided. (And, truthfully, it would be cruel to separate Serena from her sole caregiver.)
"Whatever, I've done my charity work for the night."
Serena's head snapped up, fingers pausing in their absent trail through bubbles. "Penelope said you were her charity work for the night," she quipped.
Chuck gave her a surprised look, but they both ended up laughing.
"Fine go! The both of you are disgusting," Blair snapped.
Serena gave him a theatrical gloat and he leaned over, hovering over the blonde's glossy lips. He waited until Blair moved towards them with a scandalized scream. He spun, trapping Blair in his arms. He smothered her squeal with a kiss.
He backed away too fast for her slap to connect, grinning like the fourteen-year-old boy that he was. Serena applauded delightedly.
"Chuck Bass! You just wait till I tell Nate!"
Chuck just shook his head. "Later girls."
Nathaniel would find it funny. He was awesome like that.
Protect me from what I want
Protect me from what I want
Protect me from what I want
Protect me
Protect me
When Chuck left, the warm air seemed more oppressive. Serena's glassy gaze didn't seem to focus on anything.
"I'm sorry," Serena said, breaking the silence.
"For what?"
"Coming over. I know you're not to be woken on school nights."
Blair knew she'd regret this tomorrow morning in chemistry class. "That rule was invented to stop Chuck and Nate from hot-boxing my bathroom. You can always come over." The only thing worse than being woken at three in the morning to take care of a drunken best friend, was thinking of that best friend in someone else's bed.
"Where's Lily?" Blair asked, not sure she cared about Serena's elusive mother anymore.
"Home...I think. She's been showing Klaus around..." Serena trailed off uncertainly.
Blair's face turned disapproving. She didn't like Lily's latest acquisition. When he thought no one was watching Klaus tended to look at Serena and Eric as if they were something that buzzed.
"He's alright, really B." Serena cut in, hearing every unspoken word.
"Sure he is. Get in the bath Serena."
Serena had sobered up enough to strip the last of her clothing off without complaint. "Aren't you going to stay?" she questioned, seeing Blair's movements. Blair repressed a small smile, crossing her arms. "What if I passed out and drowned? Could the world really handle a loss like that?" Serena struck a theatrical pose to prove her point.
Protect me from what I want (Protège-moi, protège-moi)
Protect me from what I want (Protège-moi, protège-moi)
Protect me from what I want (Protège-moi, protège-moi)
Protect me
Protect me
Serena slipped under the bubbles and Blair shed her robe to sit on the edge by Serena's head.
Serena's smile turned knowing. She trailed a wet finger down Blair's thigh. "What's with you and Chuck?"
"Nothing! Ew, it's Chuck."
She loved Nate. Nate was her boyfriend slash one day husband. His basstard best friend was just a burden to be overcome. Just a really annoying, freakishly attractive burden.
Serena turned in the water, pulling herself up the porcelain side in front of Blair. She really didn't like what was in the brunette's voice.
"Nate's perfect," Blair said forcefully.
Serena gave her woeful navy eyes. "More perfect than me?"
Serena got to her knees, laying her head on Blair's lap like a lost puppy.
"No," Blair responded honestly. Too honestly.
It was wrong, so wrong, to look at her best friend like that. To push water matted hair to the side just so she could see the perfect curve of her back. More wrong to graze manicured nails over glistening skin. It didn't matter that Serena's enthralled sigh said otherwise.
But it was hard to be the best friend of the girl that everyone loved. Because maybe Serena loved her most of all, but Serena pulled all her minions into enthusiastic hugs, laughed loudly with anyone who stood still long enough.
Serena pulled Blair down into a soft kiss. Wanting Blair to want her, the way she wanted Blair; needing Blair to need her, the way she needed Blair.
It was just a tentative touch of lips, as trembling as it was disturbing.
And Blair's heart was just plain stupid for wanting this to mean something, for wanting this to be a promise. Because everyone on the Upper East Side knew Serena was a handsy drunk.
The fact that Blair was the last one to find that out made her angry, made her want to make this something more. It couldn't, wouldn't, be just Serena being Serena. Not if Blair made it more.
She sunk her hands into Serena's wet hair, pressing forceful demanding kisses against her lips. She didn't mind when Serena pulled her into the bath. She didn't even mind that the raw silk of her slip would never recover from Serena's nails digging through to her skin. And she definitely didn't mind when Serena's body wrapped around her own.
Protège-moi, protège-moi
Protège-moi de mes désirs
Protège-moi, protège-moi
Serena fell asleep first, the way she always did.
Blair shut her eyes, and couldn't even force herself to relax. She wondered what would have happened if she'd let Serena push the strap off her shoulder like she'd tried to. Her lips pressed together, holding back a sigh at the thought of Serena's hands sliding slick and hot up her thighs.
It hadn't been like kissing Nate where she wondered every second if he was enjoying himself, if he was enjoying her.
She could read every touch, every emotion on Serena's face; she knew it better than her own.
Serena had wanted it all. Had wanted every kiss deeper, every caress harder, had wanted every molecule of Blair's body to be hers.
It wasn't even like the way she sometimes thought about Chuck. Because she'd always remember Nate and how right it felt to be with him, and how wrong it was to even think of Chuck.
Serena made every vague thought of Nate disappear. Serena was like hyper reality. Too much. Her mind didn't have room to think about Nate when Serena was pushing her body into Blair's hands.
She shut her eyes tight. Tomorrow she'd pretend this hadn't happened. She'd pretend so well that after a while she'd forget the taste of Serena's kisses.
And she could forget whatever she wanted.
But it wouldn't stop her from wanting Serena.
Protect me from what I want
Protect me from what I want
Protect me from what I want
Protect me
Protect me
E/N: "Protege moi" by Placebo—old and still just as awesome.
