AN: This is set after 4x09. Apologies for the delay, I meant to have it up much sooner! Thanks so much for the lovely reviews:)
They begin tentatively; akin to butterflies newly emerged from their cocoon. The dance is lethargic, each step taken gingerly, as if fear of tripping won above all else.
There are blunders, at first. They forget to call ahead, to use Serena, Eric, Nate as intermediaries, to ensure the other will not be at the Davis' dinner. They encounter each other when they least expect it, the surprise written across both their faces.
But with each surprise comes relief. When a dinner passes without a cross remark or assignations in coatrooms, there comes a small satisfaction. We can do this is the silent parting remark; a lingering glance after each encounter is done with.
And with the completion of every dinner, at the close of every gala and ball, their encounters become less taxing, less cumbersome.
They settle into a cautious pattern, circling round each other with careful precision. They become friends, though they claimed it was not possible before. They can laugh with each other, share quiet smiles from across the room. Nate and Serena breathe sighs of relief each time polite 'Hello Blair's and 'Hello Chuck's are exchanged with the propriety of the UES and the familiarity of knowing each other from years past.
But their past, their lengthy, arduous past, is not erased.
There is still the flare of jealousy, a spark of anger across Chuck's features when another man dares speak to Blair.
An undercurrent of something still exists within their careful greeting, something deep and habitual, ingrained within their very soul.
And sometimes, she will pass a champagne glass to him, and there is a moment, when there is but a breath of air between their fingers, when her eyes snap to his dark, unreadable ones, and all rational thought disappears.
Then Blair will lower her eyes, and Chuck will avert his, knuckles gripping the stem of the glass.
She will hurry away from him, towards Serena, towards her mother, towards anyone but him.
He will remain, eyes dark as pitch, black unfathomable depths, and knuckles white against delicate glass stems.
…
"Two months."
"Excuse me?" Serena turns towards her brother, who had come from seemingly nowhere and joined Serena behind the white stone column.
Eric nods towards the pair, Blair's pale pink dress perfectly complementing Chuck's pink-and-orange paisley bowtie, who are studiously avoiding each other.
"I give them six weeks, max."
Serena laughs quietly, lest she draw the attention of those nearest to them.
"Five weeks."
"Not fair," Eric counters, "Blair's your best friend."
"And you're the closest thing Chuck's got to a brother," Serena reminds him.
"A month," Eric amends, and Serena appraises him carefully, as though they were ten and twelve once more, betting on who would be the first to get drunk—Lily, or Klaus.
"The terms?" Serena prompts, eyes shining as she turns fully towards her younger brother.
Eric smirks, an expression so eerily reminiscent of Chuck's that Serena frowns slightly.
"I accept video games, cash, or purebred English bulldogs," Eric tells her casually. Serena rolls her eyes.
"Manolos, size eight-and-a-half."
Eric grins in return, stretches out his hand.
"And we're not allowed to meddle in their relationship," Serena tells him sternly. "We have to let them happen on their own, forcing them together would defeat—"
"I know, I know," Eric says impatiently, "so we have a deal?"
"We have a deal," Serena confirms, shaking his proffered hand.
Blair is making their way towards them, suspicion written across her features.
"S, what's going on?"
The two van der Woodsens turn to her, perfect smiles in place.
"Nothing, B."
…
"Tomorrow, then?"
A question, asked as he traces invisible patterns on her bare skin.
"Tomorrow will be exactly four-and-a-half weeks from the day they made the bet."
A laugh, and she props herself up on her forearms, eyes sparkling.
"They should've known better than to try and bet on us."
A triumphant smirk, and he leans closer, until his lips were inches from hers.
"Tomorrow."
…
Gossip Girl will inundate everyone's phone with texts, pictures, and even a video, of Chuck and Blair in the Empire's lobby, a picture perfect scene straight from a movie.
Serena will groan when she sees the text, and then avert her eyes because ew, he was her stepbrother and she did not need to see them practically having sex in the Empire's lobby, thankyouverymuch.
Eric will stifle a laugh and shake his head knowingly, telling Serena they should've known better.
A week later, two pairs of Manolos, size eight-and-a-half, and a purebred English bulldog named Charles are delivered to their respective owners.
fin