A/N: Thanks for the reviews. And I'm more than happy to take creeped out criticism lol.

Chuck lounged in 1812, completely prepared for Blair's tardiness. It's a rule they both knew: to make someone wait shows power.

And lately they'd been scrounging for the smallest crumbs, anything for dominance. He would let this one slide. He had more pressing concerns and Blair would be more cheerful (malleable), if she got her fix.

She arrived in her Lanvin pumps and YSL scent forty minutes after he'd sent the text. A perfect smile of cordiality was carved into her crimson lips.

She stood on the opposite side of the coffee table, clearly unwilling to sit. "Chuck, I thought you must finally have had your breakdown. Calling, expecting me to come to you ; your father really is working you too hard." Her tone was as sweet as her expression. "I expected to find you naked, surrounded with Kleenex and bottles of your own urine."

He smiled suggestively. "Well, one half of that can be arranged." His smile disappeared; face quickly falling into hard lines. "I didn't call you for your...charm, Waldorf." He took out his phone, tossing it across the coffee table, its new background picture malevolent and unholy.

Blair picked up the cell, studying the picture with a blank and unreadable expression. "When was this taken? Is this the only one? Did you make copies?"

"It's a little too tame for Penthouse," he replied disgustedly. "Though perhaps if I waited around for a bit..."

Her fingers darted across the keys and he guessed what she was doing. She tossed the phone back to him easily, its background screen empty once again. She came around the table, so she could stand over him. A small thrill travelled through his body at her nearness.

She gave him her iciest Queen B smile, her gaze venomous. Each word was practically spat at him. "That photo was nothing. Whatever you think you saw—you didn't. Whatever sick ideas are floating through your head are nothing but the deranged fantasies of a neglected closet case, shocked at his first taste of sibling rivalry."

Did she just imply he was gay?

He watched her carefully. She knew! There was no way she would be this worried if there was a chance it wasn't real. "Sibling rivalry? Really, Blair, that's the best you can do?" he drawled mockingly.

Blair was making threats on his life and reputation (ha!), but breathy gasps floated across his mind tauntingly: more, Bart. Oh god...

"I've seen what form daddy's attention takes; I think I'll pass." He met Blair's gaze evenly and her warnings died on her tongue. He'd seen things, realised that there are things out in the big bad world that even his seemingly limitless depravity couldn't stomach.

And those things shared his roof.

Blair considered him carefully, reassessing his role. Chuck didn't take offence. SerenaChuckBlairNate—it wasn't all illicit sex and infighting. It was responsibility and duty, even if none of them would ever acknowledge that.

Serena and Nathaniel, for all their expertise in self-involvement, rarely knew how to fight for themselves, barely knew they had to fight. And he and Blair, well, that's all they knew to do. And they were good at it.

So good that they could do it for their friends as well.

Blair examined the lounge suspiciously before sitting down beside him tentatively.

"This has to end." Chuck said it, but it didn't really matter, because they were both thinking it.

"But how?" Blair mused.

Chuck realised from her tone that it was question she'd asked herself before. "S?" Blair was the expert on Serena. If there was a way to end this through Serena, Blair would find it.

She gave a slight shake of her head. "She's being..." Serena. They shared a look of complete understanding. For someone with such a short attention span, the blonde could be steadfast.

"Bart?" she asked.

Chuck scoffed. "If he even suspected that I knew, I'd be signed up for the army before sundown." His paternal grandfather had been an army man. From the little he remembered the man was a complete bastard. His father had alternately despised and revered the man. Growing up, military school had always been a looming punishment and Bart was not above enlisting his only son for a little old school discipline.

"Then we need to distract them," Blair suggested. "It's not as if their flings last long anyway,"

Chuck raised his brow doubtfully. "What about Humphrey?"

"A fluke. Insanity. What are the chances of catching mono twice?" she exclaimed dismissively.

He could buy that comparison. "Once Serena has her victim in mind..."

"We just need to cater to her tastes," Blair commanded. Her face brightened and she gazed at him sidelong. "Carter would be perfect," she murmured casually.

"No!" He couldn't help the exclamation. Watching the two of them last time...He scowled bitterly. It was wrong. The way she'd press lipstick smiles into Carter's completely undeserving neck, whisper things that made the jerk let out sounds of pure masculine joy: that was insanity. "No," he ground out unequivocally.

He wouldn't save S from the sharks and hand her over to the dogs—scruffy dogs at that.

He forced a neutral expression. "What about Nathaniel?" he asked experimentally, trying to prepare himself for the response.

Blair's face shuttered off. "Nathaniel wouldn't be interested," she pronounced.

Chuck laughed bitterly, as much at himself as her. Not interested? Nathaniel was male and Serena was Serena, what else was there? "Did you unman him when you reattached the armour?"

Her body stiffened. "You wouldn't understand."

Oh, he understood. Nathaniel was...He was awesome. Nathaniel was his brother and was good in every way that Chuck would never be. Chuck wanted to leave it alone, but it was like a sore tooth he couldn't stop poking. "So it's him again?" he asked quietly, his body as stiff as hers.

Blair's eyes met his and they were soft, and he hated her just a little for knowing. Knowing him, knowing the way his heart beat painfully, the way his mind whirred ruthless and resentful. "It was always him," she admitted.

Lie! Because there had been them and he knew that Nathaniel wasn't the one she had wanted then. He swallowed painfully, trying to build himself around this new world of BlairandNathaniel.

But he was Chuck Bass. He wouldn't pine. He'd live and he'd prosper and somehow he'd be a friend to the woman he couldn't have and the guy he loved (their bromance was so masculine love was a completely acceptable descriptor).

He smirked playfully. "Does Nathaniel know this?"

She glared, but it was grateful. "Not yet."

He chuckled and it was almost as mean spirited as he'd intended. "We're not going to agree about suitable distractions for Serena." And why did she need a guy anyway? Serena was better by herself. She needed to be free.

Blair nodded. "Then Bart."

He arched a brow in surprise. "You have someone in mind?"

She rolled her eyes. "His wife."

"Ah." The whole plan unfolded before him, his mind quickly grasping how the dominoes would fall. "We need to get rid of the rest of the Humphreys."

"The rest?"

"I gave Humphrey Junior his warning."

Blair smiled satisfied.

"My father would have a file on Rufus. He looks as disgustingly vanilla as his son, but I bet there's something in his D-lister past that we could use."

Chuck had come to dislike Rufus nearly as much as he disliked his offspring, and not because the man was continuously sniffing around his stepmother. He hated his understanding smiles and fatherly concern for his children. Their family dinners were probably unscripted and filled with preachy salt-of-the-earth values.

"Then why wouldn't Bart have used it before?" Blair demanded.

He snickered. "Five feet ten inches, all leg and golden hair, sound familiar?" Chuck continued slightly more serious, "the file would be in his safe. I don't have the code but Serena does." He answered her questioning look: "a courting gift from father dearest."

They both repressed a small shudder.

"I candeal with that." And she would, even if she had to pry that safe open with her French tips. She let her gaze slide away from Chuck's, because if French tips couldn't handle metal, well, she'd cut off every one of basstard senior's fingers.

Then there'd be no more touching what he wasn't supposed to.

She'd made a promise to herself; her throat sore, her nose burning, when long graceful arms had been the only thing holding her to this world and navy eyes had sobbed for her when she had no more tears left to give.

She was the only one allowed to break Serena, because she was the only one who knew how to put her back together.

XOXOXOXOXO

Serena lay across her bed, head propped up in one hand, the other smothering strawberries in chocolate. She was wearing silky shorts that rode low on her hips and a white camisole that showed inches of bare skin across her hips.

"My, my, I think I might just cancel my Playboy subscription," Chuck drawled, leaning against her doorway.

"I wouldn't, those seem to be the only girls willing to be around you for more than an hour," Serena shot back.

"Oh, an hour's plenty."

She smirked, cocking her head to the side. "Well, it certainly should be for the price you pay."

Blair appeared in the hall behind Chuck. "Children," Blair chastised. She pushed past Chuck, using, Serena thought, way more shoulder than necessary.

The brunette perched cautiously on the edge of the bed.

"Blair!" Serena cried, beaming. She moved quickly to her knees, throwing her arms gracelessly around Blair's neck. She didn't think Blair would be talking to her, after she wouldn't go home with her last night.

Blair let out an exaggerated sigh, a small smile on her lips as she wrapped an arm around Serena's waist.

"I thought you were mad at me," Serena mumbled into Blair's hair.

Blair's reply was little more that a whisper, "I was mad for you, S."

"I've seen this part in Playboy, as well." Chuck languidly reclined on the other side of the bed. "A little too much plot, but I like where it's heading."

Serena pulled away from Blair laughing. She reached out to smack Chuck's chest. "Pervert. Who invited you in?"

Chuck pouted, sloe eyes lecherous. "Now you get discriminating about who's in your bed?"

She smacked him harder. He smiled impishly, rubbing his chest.

Serena watched as he and Blair shared one of their looks—filled with hidden meanings and perfect understanding.

"S, I think one of mother's investors is stealing from her." Blair said, incensed.

Serena's gaze flashed to her friend. "Oh my god, do you think Eleanor will kill them?" It was meant lightly, but Serena did feel bad for whoever it was—their life was over.

"We have no proof." Blair said shaking her head.

"Is there anything I can do?" Serena asked uncertainly.

Blair's burning gaze met hers. "Maybe. I think Bart might have a file on my mother's business."

"Oh." Serena glanced between Blair and Chuck, not really sure of where she fit in.

Chuck picked up on the problem. "The file would be in my father's safe."

"Oh!"

Blair nodded. "Can you help me?"

Serena replied without thought. "I can get the file."

"No! Bart couldn't know it was missing. And I don't want you to get involved."

Serena studied her friend worriedly. "Okay." Bart would be totally pissed if he ever found out, but Blair just looked so upset. "Maybe I could give you the code?" she offered, trying to placate her friend.

Blair smiled triumphantly. "I can't stay now; Nathaniel and I have plans." She kissed Serena's cheek lightly, murmuring words into her ear. "Text it to me."

"Okay," she agreed.

Blair left quickly, giving her a last wave and shooting a loaded glace at Chuck.

Serena was still looking at the empty doorway. "That was weird."

Chuck made a small sound that might have been agreement. "She's in love. No time for the peasants when you're playing the princess."

Serena sprawled out beside him, propping her head up again. She opened the small carton of strawberries and dip. "So her and Nate?"

"Apparently."

"I figured," she replied mutedly.

More than anything she wanted a drink. She didn't want to think about Blair and Nate, or the way she'd stupidly thought that Nate had liked her. She didn't want to think at all.

But she wasn't that girl anymore. New Serena didn't do that stuff. Didn't drown out her thoughts. Didn't move and do just to feel and never think.

A tiny bit of self-reflection wouldn't bring the world down around her ears.

It just felt that way sometimes.

She popped another berry into her mouth, noticing Chuck's intent gaze.

"Are you okay?" she asked sympathetically, knowing that Blair had meant a lot to him, even if he hid it well.

"Yes," of course. "Are you?" He got it, the whole wanting what you have no right to want.

"Yeah." If he could lie, then so could she.

They smiled at each other. Maybe life was like that: just some big unfunny joke.

"Strawberry?" She offered him the one she's already dipped.

He studied it doubtfully. "Where are they from?"

"Your father got them. Only the best."

She was surprised when he looked more repulsed. "Are you fighting with him again?" Bart hadn't mentioned anything, not that she'd expect him to.

"Something like that," he admitted dryly.

She held the berry closer to his lips. "And you're going to take it out on a poor, innocent strawberry?"

He gave her a dubious look. She smiled, knowing her face was lit with impulsive mischief.

"I think—"

She pressed the strawberry between his open lips with a giggle.

But she really should have remembered who she was playing with.

Instantly, his tongue was wrapped around her fingers. Before she could jerk away, his hand was locked around hers, forcing her fingers to slide temptingly slow from his lips.

"Chuck."

His slightly rough fingers were still wrapped around hers as he swallowed the treat. "Serena," he mocked.

She pushed herself up, attempting to distance herself. Chuck tugged at her hand and she overbalanced almost falling on his chest, but she managed to catch herself with her one free hand.

Her face hovered over his, eyes wide and startled. A slow grin emerged on Chuck's face and she knew what he was going to try.

He darted forward, but she turned her head and his kiss landed on her cheek. He let out a breathy chuckle against her skin.

If it was a game she'd have won. But his lips never left her skin. He trailed kisses across her jaw line, his warm tongue slipping out to dip below her ear.

The arm holding her weight started to tremble and she wasn't so much turning her face away from him as pressing it closer to his. "Don't do this."

His voice was a content purr in her ear. "Why?" He cupped her hip, fingers moulding into her bare skin.

She turned a confused face to his, and his lips met hers—no near misses this time. She let out a low sound into his mouth and it didn't sound like a complaint. His lips were soft and his skin was warm, and if Chuck was never the safe choice, there was always something comforting about his touch.

It was wrong: the way his mouth tasted so familiar, the way his breath felt against her mouth. So wrong. For so many reasons. But she couldn't bring herself to pull away, couldn't quite break away from the hand that had slipped under her shirt to the small of her back.

Her arm slipped and she dropped onto his chest. They both let out a slow breath. She might have tried to move, but his arm was still wrapped her back, and the other still clenched around her fingers. Instead, she relaxed against him, mind whirring too fast for thoughts.

"I'm such as idiot," Chuck muttered.

"I know," she agreed.

E/N: Was the chapter too long? Plot too stupid? Suggestions always appreciated : ]