Warning: A hard PG. Though if you've made it this far, I really doubt this would corrupt you.

Serena had never faced rejection before. Not really. Not like this.

Bart had made her feel safe and now he turned her into a wreck.

She honestly thought she'd find a way to change his mind. She'd smile and play with his tie and he'd change his mind.

But he didn't. He didn't budge. He didn't even waver.

She felt useless, and then angry and then...nothing.

That happened sometimes.

Chuck let her in without a word. She passed him, heading for the liquor cabinet.

All of her friends had their own signature brand of comfort: Blair would give her croissants and Audrey; Nate would give her hash and laughter; and Chuck would give her scotch and the truth.

Well, technically she took his scotch. But that was neither here nor there.

She poured a double in each of the tumblers.

Chuck faked a long suffering sigh. "My flawless taste is wasted on you."

Serena rolled her eyes. It was an old argument. She'd always be a gin and whiskey gal and no amount ofthis bottle could have bought a small island was going to change her mind.

She spun in half circles on the breakfast bar stool. "Let's make sure it's not the only thing wasted," she muttered.

The minute she'd walked in his heart had started to beat faster. That was new. His stomach clenched with an instant flash of desire. That wasn't.

It wasn't that she didn't notice the way his gaze strayed to the way her seasonally inappropriate sundress rode up her thighs, she just had nothing to say about it.

It didn't feel like something that was just Chuck. It felt bigger. More. And infinitely less simple.

He watched her sip the scotch slowly—probably for his benefit. It reminded him of when she'd get in a fight with Blair. She'd come to his suite with an uncharacteristic smirk, they'd drink and swap dirty stories. Both of them enjoyed annoying her best friend, but only Chuck would ever admit it.

"You're here to get back at my father," he guessed, not sure how he felt about it. Theoretically he approved of anything that made his father suffer, but he didn't want Serena here for his father.

She gave him a wide-eyed look that transformed into fondness. "When did you get so smart, Chucky?" She tugged his arm till he sat on the stool beside hers.

"Living with you," he shot back. "Nature abhors a vacuum."

Behind the flippant words and familiar tones, there were things unsaid, lines undrawn, and it all had the ring of impatience.

She watched the way he swirled his glass, his gaze carefully avoiding hers. She put a palm over his glass, pushing it away from his lips. Just as easily she replaced it with her lips. It was soft and moist and almost chaste, but it made her want more. She held onto his collar, opening his shirt so she could press open-mouthed kisses into his neck.

"Don't," he growled.

She rolled her eyes up to take in his expression of almost-pain.

"Don't touch me and think of him," he growled, eyes closed tight.

She leaned away from him, turning back to her drink. "I thought we already established that I never think," she teased wryly.

Maybe he had apologised. But that didn't change the fact that he'd been disgusted by her. Going for the father and the son? Classy, S, her Blair-voiced conscience piped-up.

"And don't do that either," he commanded, eyes fixing heatedly on hers.

"What?"

"Don't lower yourself. Don't pretend that you make mistakes just because that's who you are. It's not." The words were clear and sure, as if he'd never had a doubt.

She hid a humourless smile behind her drink. She didn't have a fucking clue who she was.

Maybe it was enough that Chuck did.

She tilted her head to the side, lips quirking into something sweet and dangerous. "I wasn't thinking of him."

Chuck remained impassive. He was not a school boy or a fucking Humphrey. It took a hell of a lot more to get a Bass worked up. "Dangerous territory, S—you haven't even finished one drink."

"So?" she asked.

"Someone might get the impression that I'm not just a drunken booty-call. Someone could mistake this for a relationship," he whispered ominously.

She tried in vain to read the expression in his eyes. His dark lashes looked heavy; it was almost a lazy expression, or maybe predatory.

He might not lie, but she did.

Because she had thought about this. A lot. She'd poked and prodded and tried to force their relationship back into the box it had once belonged—the one labelled friends.

She might have given up her reformed princess role, but she couldn't go back to what she'd been before that. That girl was gone. And if she saw that girl—the one she used to be—on the street, she'd probably cross to the other side.

And Chuck wasn't the same. He'd been dragged kicking and screaming over the threshold of adulthood. Some of that was loving Blair, but a lot of that was just him. There was no going back for Chuck either.

They'd grown-up.

They'd outgrown their box.

She leaned towards him, but stopped, making him move the last inch. There was nothing soft or chaste about this kiss. It was hard, and wild, with just a hint of desperation.

She was the one to pull back first.

"I could live with that," she told him huskily.

"What?" he asked, brows furrowed in concentration.

"A relationship."

Chuck stilled. Perceptiveness told him that the glib sounding words were anything but casual. He could see it in the way she tilted her chin—a challenge, defiance, you can hurt me.

But he knew better. S didn't do relationships well. There were always boundaries and reservations.

Dan had her as the perfect girlfriend, Carter got her when she was free and running, and Nate got her as an ideal (but only once, thank God).

She cut herself in pieces, so no one person could own her all.

And Chuck didn't do anything by halves.

He stood, pulling her to her feet. He trapped her face between his hands. They would be real or they would be nothing. He wasn't going to risk another friendship for an easy lay.

"I want you. A lot. I can't even— There's no comparison." The words were almost too serious, but he'd worry about finding his pride after. She was all flighty capriciousness and angel hair, and none of it was reassuring.

She gave a tight smile. He was being cautious and steady, and she didn't know this side of Chuck very well. "I want you too. I likeyou. That's kinda what my offer was about." She shook off his hands, leaving him behind so she could fall onto his oversized bed.

"What about my father?" he shot out.

"Over and done with," she said, making the decision then and there. It wasn't exactly a difficult choice, but it still sent a pang of hurt through her body.

He watched her stretch in his bed. It was almost enough to make him forget his suspicions. Almost.

"What if Carter comes back?"

"Then I'll steal his social security number. For your enjoyment."

He sat on the edge of the bed. "What if Dan dumps his Hollywood girlfriend and writes you some crappy sonnet?"

"I'll be sure to send it your way. You can laugh at it over drinks and me," she tempted.

Instinctively he crawled closer to her. "What if you and Nate end up drunk in an abandoned bar?" he asked darkly, as if his words alone could conjure up nights long passed.

She groaned, turning towards him. "Then I'll offer him a three-way."

He pulled back with a glare.

She rolled him onto his back, straddling him before he could move away. "What do you want Chuck?"

"A guarantee," he said honestly. He was already falling fast and she wasn't a safety net kind of girl.

She captured his hands, pushing them over his head. "Then get a washing machine."

He imagined she'd be do rough play better than most.

Serena was leaning over him and he could see straight down her top, which meant there was no more room in his head for witty remarks, but he still managed to get out a strangled warning."Fine. No guarantees. But if you do this, you better be here in the morning." He told himself it wasn't a begging: it was a deal.

He was rewarded with an almost too-brilliant grin.

He made a mental note to never negotiate with her.

XOXOXO

He woke up naked and cold. (The price of sleeping with an unrepentant covers hog.) Blearily he shuffled over until he could bury his face in the nape Serena's neck, wrapping an arm around her blanket-covered and most likely warm body.

He'd woken up this way every morning this week.

And he wouldn't mind waking up like this for a long time. And for some reason that didn't scare him.

He considered going back to sleep, but they only had this short reprieve.

Bart had been called away on a business trip, so they were doing their best with the time they had.

Neither of them had broached the subject of what would happen when he came back, demanding they separate and disappear to a state where no one cared about Bass Industries.

He pressed his lips into her neck, letting a hand skim under the blanket, down the front of Serena's body.

He sat up a little so that he could watch her expression. He cupped her breast and her pink lips parted, the softest sigh escaping. Gently he played over the silken skin till it pebbled under his thumb. Serena's eyelashes fluttered, but didn't open. He leaned down to graze the barest edge of teeth over her throat. She squirmed and he gripped her tighter.

"Chuck," she whined, arching into his hands even as she complained.

"Morning," he purred.

She struggled under the tangle of sheets till she could turn in his arms. Chuck was wearing a small smile, clearly pleased with himself. She graciously covered him with the edge of her covers.

"What is your problem with letting me sleep in?" she pouted.

His eyes travelled over her face, because it was still new and just a little surreal. "Blame Blair for making us watch Sleeping Beauty so many times. I'm always on board for the whole fondling of unconscious princesses."

He ran his finger along her chest, gently edging the covers down.

She let out a sleep roughened laugh. "I don't think that was part of the story."

"Really?" he asked, not caring. "It should have been."

She slapped away his roving hand, springing from the bed. "I'm heading to the family suite." She did her best to be home before the family woke up. It wasn't that her mother wouldn't find out, but she figured being too obvious would be tempting fate.

Chuck didn't respond, deciding to watch her get dressed instead. She should have gone into the bathroom if she didn't want an audience.

Secretly he though their cautiousness was a good idea, but he never wanted it to get out that he'd chosen reason over morning sex.

Not that anyone would believe it.

Serena left quickly, knowing Eric would probably be waking up any minute.

She rushed out of the elevator, with her heels still in her hand—for a stealth advantage. Her eyes widened in shock. Someone was already in the suite, waiting for the elevator.

Rufus took in her hastily-put-together appearance even as she scanned his.

His clothes were crumpled and his hair stood in odd tufts. His gave her an even look—he wasn't a guilty child and he wouldn't act like one.

"Serena," he greeted hesitantly.

"Hey Rufus," she replied quietly.

He gave her the most reassuring smile he could manage. "Your mother's in the kitchen."

She nodded, it was a clear ask her. "Okay."

She walked to the kitchen. Lily was leaning against the bench, a coffee cup in her hand. She was dressed in a silky cream robe. Her yellow-blonde hair was in loose waves around her face. Serena was by struck by how young her mother looked.

Lily watched her approach with cool blue eyes. "So this is when you come in. I wondered..."

Serena let out a delicate snort at the subtle warning. She knew she was in no position to throw stones. She leaned against the bench, holding back any inappropriate questions.

"Can I have a coffee?" she asked weakly.

She didn't know what was on her face, but it made her mother's eyes widen in alarm.

Lily put her cup down, reaching her daughters side in a few steps. Serena was wearing a short wrinkled dress that showed too much cleavage. Her mascara was smudged and her hair wasn't brushed. And if her suspicions were correct, she'd just crawled out of her step-brother's bed. But somehow, in the early morning light, biting her already chafed lip, she was still her little girl—the same one who'd wake up in the middle of the night to find luggage by the door and her mother preparing to leave, but still knew better than to ask her to stay.

Lily pulled Serena into her arms, knowing Serena was too jaded to believe in her mother's hugs anymore. But Serena hugged her back. Her daughter always would, no matter how angry or disillusioned she was. Lily patted her back comfortingly.

"I didn't think you even got along with Bart," Lily murmured carefully.

Serena smothered a small laugh into her mother's shoulder.

XOXOXO