Disclaimer: I do not own "Gossip Girl."

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews and comments. :)

***

Liam leads them to the pool house, walks in without knocking.

Blair reaches out and touches the door, stops it from closing, "But we can stop the doors from shutting," she says softly, as if committing rules to memory.

They walk in behind Liam; stand off to the side as he stops beside the bed.

"See," Nate says very quietly to his Serena as he motions towards the silent, contemplative other one, "She's just sitting there, looking so sad… I don't like it…"

Serena rolls her eyes and mutters again; a touch amused, "Such a softie," as she bumps herself into him.

His mother looks up when Liam walks into the room. She's sitting in the same chair Cash had been lounging on the night before, her back to the desk, facing the middle of the center space.

At the center of the room, the sofa has been turned into a bed and on the bed Annie, Gracie, and Harm are piled together, tangled in sheets and pillows. Gracie is in the middle, on her side, stretched out across the width of bed in a sprawl; her legs are intertwined with Annie's, who's angled towards the younger girl on her side, curled so her head is lying on one of Gracie's arms. Gracie's head is resting on Harm's stomach, one of his hands is in her hair, the other tucked under his face sweetly—and they are all deeply asleep.

"Mom…?" Liam asks motioning towards the bed and shrugging.

She smiles a little, "Just giving them a little longer…" she whispers.

And Liam rolls his eyes.

She shrugs at him, "They probably went to sleep very late—or early," she continues, but stands anyway; her smile turning wry, "Nobody likes to wake up early on a Saturday."

Her son laughs a little, "No," he agrees, keeping his voice low, "Not in this family…"

"And yet, there were you and Cash… very awake and dressed and ready…" Serena pauses before reaching the bed, meets her boy's gaze head on, "… to do something…" she prompts, voice knowing.

Liam ducks his head a little. "Crisis averted," he admits.

And his mother smiles again, wider this time as she approaches the sleeping children, "The free world thanks you, I'm sure."

"So should Congressman Cain," Liam responds.

Serena pauses again, shoots him a quick look, "You're certain that—"

"Yep, I'm sure," Liam nods; but then his brows draw together slightly, "But just don't tell Uncle Chuck, okay? I don't want him to—"

Serena snorts, is standing opposite from him, over the kids now on the other side; the bed between them, "Oh Chuck'll know," she interrupts her son with a laugh, "But I doubt there'll be trouble over it," she amends wryly, shaking her head as she bends down and runs her hand through Harm's hair, "Gotta wake up, sweetie…" she murmurs to him.

The boy frowns in his sleep, but doesn't stir otherwise.

It's Liam who snorts now. "Come on, Mom," he says dryly, "This is how you wake people, especially these people, up," he tells her.

And then he grips the edge of the mattress and shakes it up and down.

"Liam!" She scolds him.

Just as the three sleeping children come awake in a flurry of startled gaps and flailing limbs. They bump into other and roll over one another, knees shoved stomachs and elbows knocking into faces and Liam continues to jiggle the mattress.

"Time to get up!" He calls and lifts a grin to his Mom.

Serena laughs and bends down, grabs Harm around the middle and starts tickling him. He squeaks with startled laugher and beside him Gracie tries to unravel herself from sheets. So Serena reaches over and tickles her too.

Annie squeaks in outrage, trying to sit up, but unable too, because Liam is lifting her side of the bed. She tips over onto Gracie who pushes back, trying to avoid her mother's tickling hands.

The room is alight with laughter and shouts of "Liam stop!" and "Mom!" along with Harm's plaintive, "Aaaaunt Sereena!" when Annie lashes out and kicks at Liam with her bare foot, lands a whollup against his stomach.

He lets go of the mattress with a grunt and then latches onto her ankle with one hand. "That hurt!" He yells outraged, free hand rubbing at his stomach.

She scowls at him, "Good!"

Serena stops tickling Harm and Gracie, drops down on the mattress next to them, breathless with laughter, "Okay, okay…" she agrees, "No more…"

"Get off me!" Annie shouts, kicking her leg out; but Liam's hand is still wrapped around her ankle and he doesn't let go.

"You kicked me!" He exclaims, like the concept is inconceivable.

"Because you're a jerk!" She cries, "Let go!" And when he doesn't, only starts pulling her towards him, clearly intent n tickling her, she turns to her stepmother and pleads, "S!"

"Let her go Liam," Serena tells him, laughing a little.

The older boy stills and then rolls his eyes and does; Annie scrambles back away from him, grabs a pillow and flings it at his head. He dodges it easily and grins at her.

"Why did you do this?" Harm asks them pathetically as rolls around and buries his face in a pillow.

Gracie nods her agreement pitifully and turns on her side; buries her face in the same pillow, mumbling, "G'away…"

Serena rubs Harm's back, Gracie's arm. "Need to get up, guys… brunch in a couple hours…"

Annie sighs roughly and sits up, "It's Saturday— don't you people do brunch on Sunday's?"

Gracie turns her head in Annie's direction, but doesn't move, "Don't call us you people."

"I'll call you what I want, Grace."

"Shut-up, Anne."

"Girls," Serena admonishes and taps Gracie's shoulder.

"They were like that all night," Harm moans; blinks open big brown eyes at his aunt, "I need more sleep... please."

Serena smoothes his hair gently, "Sorry, baby, you know brunch is at ten," she tells him gently and then looks to Annie, "Usually brunches are Sunday, but I suppose since we're all here today… Blair made an exception to the rule."

Annie sighs, mutters, "Lucky us," in a low voice. It wasn't that she didn't like spending time with the Bass family—at least that wasn't it, precisely. It was more that she liked to know about it advance—because it required a certain amount of mental preparation so that she didn't end up she didn't end up stabbing someone with a sharpened pencil crayon.

"Please go away," Harm mutters, grappling for the sheets to pull over his head. Gracie obligingly provides them and the two children disappear under the covers.

"No one told you stay up into the morning," Liam says unsympathetically.

Annie swings her feet to the floor, no use fighting the inevitable. "Where's Moonie?" She asks; standing and turning around to look at her stepmother.

Serena stiffens almost imperceptibly, "Your Dad took him on a run," she answers softly, her voice even.

Annie nods, "Oh, okay…"

And Serena stands then. "Okay, come on guys… seriously. Up. Now." Her voice is firm this time and she bends down to the pull sheets back from them.

Gracie groans, rolls over until she's at the edge of the bed and stares up at the ceiling.

Harm sighs and sits up very slowly; his eyes closed. Serena pats his head as he stands up, eyes still closed; lays her hands on his shoulders and guides him to where Liam is standing. "Take him inside before you and don't spend too much time at the beach, okay…"

Liam laughs a little, nods, and replaces his mother's hands with his own on Harm's shoulders, starts to guide him out of the room. Annie's already walking to the door and she steps outside ahead of the boys.

When the three have left, Serena turns to her daughter; moves to sit beside her. "Come on, baby… I'll brush your hair after your shower…" she coaxes.

Gracie smiles a little and nods, but doesn't move; her gaze still on the ceiling.

Serena gives her a long moment, lets the girl lie there, still and quiet, the seconds ticking into minutes while she studies her little girl's profiles.

And the four of them stand and watch, equally still and silent.

Then the woman touches the daughter's nose, taps it once. "Let's go… we have to—"

"You know Moonie," Gracie says abruptly.

And Serena starts a little, then laughs, "Yes, I know Moonie…"

"V got him for Annie."

Serena nods. "Yeah, I know…" she responds; and pauses a moment before continuing, "Nate told us when she first got him, remember…"

"Did you know it was Dad's idea? That he picked him out and told V to get him for her because Annie wanted a dog?"

Serena actually pales a little, eyes sliding closed for a moment, breath leaving her on a rush. "No…" she says very carefully after a beat, "I didn't know that, but—"

"From Tunsia," Gracie continues, "He picked Moonie out for Annie via webvid from Tunisia."

Serena draws in a slow, deep breath. "Annie told you this?"

Gracie's head turns now, eyes going to her mother. "It slipped in conversation... and then I pressured."

"And why did you do that?"

She shrugs then, sits up as abruptly as she'd brought up the dog in conversation, "Because I wanted to know…" she says offhandedly, "The things he'll do for her."

"Gracie…" Serena sighs, standing as her daughter moves to get off the bed, "Your Dad—"

"—loves me and spends as much time with me as he can manage, I know that," the girl says easily, but as she is shifting away from her mother, she mutters, "When he can stand to look at me," so quietly they almost miss it.

And Serena freezes, "Grace."

The girl freezes too at the thread of sorrow in her mother's voice.

"Don't." Serena says fiercely, "Do not do that to yourself."

And Gracie licks her lips, big blue eyes round in her pale face, chestnut hair loose, accentuating her high cheekbones as she stares at her mother for a beat; before lowering her face, her gaze, towards the floor.

"It's Jenny," Blair gasps into the silent pool-house, the revelation startling her. Chuck, Serena, and Nate all turn to her, confused by the words. "She looks like Jenny…" Blair points out, "See…" she says, "Look at her face… the shape of her mouth and chin…"

There's a pause and then, "That makes sense, I guess…" Serena says softly, "Jenny would be her aunt…"

"I'm not doing anything," Gracie says softly, "It's the truth."

"It's not the truth… and I don't know where you've been… reading things, finding them out, but you need to stop."

The girl lifts her face, "How else am I supposed to know things?" And it's a true question, no sullenness tinting the words. They can see it on her face, the idea that she should know things—even if they hurt.

"You don't need to know everything, honey." Serena says gently and then pulls her in close for a hug, "Sometimes the things we don't tell you are to protect you. Let us do that."

Gracie allows the hug and then looks up at her Mom, chin pressed into Serena's stomach, "Or because you think I can't handle it."

Serena sighs, shakes her head. "Or because there's more to it than we can explain," she counters softly, bringing her hands up to smooth the girl's eyebrows with her thumbs, "The older you get the more complicated some things become, Gracie—you'll see. And sometimes, those things—these things you're finding, are lies. Your Dad loves you more than he knows what to do with…"

"And so do you," Gracie prompts.

Serena smiles. "And so do I," she agrees.

"And Uncle Nate too," she tells her mother.

Nothing so much as a flinch flashes across her mother's face, "And Uncle Nate too."

"And so we can home soon? And we can just… stay the same as always, because the things I read are lies, right?"

Serena blinks at her daughter; hands stilling for a moment and then dropping down to the girl's shoulders, "How can you possibly be this cognizant just out of bed?"

It's Gracie's turn to blink curiously. "I dunno… what does cognizant mean?"

Serena laughs a bit. "It means, let's go," she teases, turning the girl around, "Time to shower and dress and maybe Dorota will make you that omelet you like for the brunch."

At the mention of her maid, Blair gasps a little; remembering suddenly that the older Blair had spoken to Dorota yesterday.

"Mooom!" Gracie drawls the word out, looking back at her mother as she's pushed forward gently towards the door. "I'm serious!"

Serena nods. "I know you are… and I wish I had more to tell you, sweetie, I do," she says softly as they leave the pool house. "But… I don't. For now, we're just… we're all here and we're going to try to enjoy what's left of our summer, okay?"

Serena's drops her arm over Gracie's shoulders then and the little girl leans her head against her mother in silence.

The four of them are walking along with them; the path to the house in front. Blair has to pick up her speed a little, leave Chuck and Nate a pace behind, to keep up with Serena; the blonde is following her older self and child closely, observing them intently, though Blair is glad to see none of yesterday's hysterics on the girl's face.

"S…?" She says very quietly, questioningly, touching her friends arm.

The girl sends her a quick reassuring look, a tiny small smile, still okay(ish), it said and Blair nods a little; sticks close.

"I just… I don't want things to… I don't want you to go away and leave us, okay?" Gracie admits as they reach the kitchen door.

Serena stops walking then; turns to her daughter and takes her face in her hands, "That is not going to happen."

Gracie doesn't move, looks up at her mother and says solemnly, "It's what happened last time. You left us, Liam and me, because of me… because I—I—"

"No. That's not what happened," Serena contradicts, "It was different then, my life was different then, okay? It had nothing to do with—"

"I've seen the articles. I ruined your marriage."

"You've… what!?"

Gracie nods, dislodging her mother's hands, "I read it, looked up your name and 2018—busy year for you, Mom."

Serena looks completely appalled.

And they couldn't blame her. The girl wasn't even accusing her mother of anything, it was a simple stating of facts—and somehow that made it worse. There was no judgment, no resentment; nothing, but worry in those big blue eyes.

"Why would you do that?" Serena manages to ask, eyes roving over her little girl's face, "How would you do that?!"

The morning sun has gotten higher, hotter, and it reflects off their hair in brilliant sparks of light. The lawn looks lush and green, the house stately and elegant, the pool glimmering and cool—so much outward perfection it could almost distract one from the slowly crumbling defenses of a child.

"Research, Mom," Gracie answers simply, still perfectly calm about it all. "It was easy; you know the access Uncle Chuck's computer has to things?" She says almost amused, "And it's important to have information…" she continues, the amusement abruptly fading, "Especially when history is repeating itself."

Serena's eyes narrow, "Who did you hear say that?"

Gracie shrugs; doesn't meet her mother's gaze.

A beat passes and then Serena releases a very slow breath.

"Okay," she says very seriously, "I need you to listen to me very, very closely, Grace. Do you understand?"

The girl rolls her eyes, "Yeah, Mom, I know you love and stuff, that's not—"

"History is not repeating itself," Serena continues as if her daughter had not spoken, her blue eyes fixed on the child, "And next time you hear that, you tell whoever said it, so— and if you would like to tell me who you heard that from right now, I'm listening."

Gracie's mouth snaps shut.

Serena continues after a moment. "You did not a ruin a thing, Gracie."

"Mom—"

"A single thing," Serena's speaks over the girl's voice.

The girl huffs, "How can you say that? If you hadn't had me then—"

"I did have you though," Serena persists, not letting her daughter finish, "And I wouldn't change that," she pauses, "You're my baby, my daughter, and I wouldn't change you or the circumstances around you for anything…" she pauses, her gaze boring into the girl's, "Even if I'd known then what I know now," she continues fervently, "It wouldn't matter— I'd still do it all the same. I'd do it all over again— just to have you, okay?"

There's a beat of stillness, maybe two, when Gracie is looking into her mother's face and wanting to believe it so badly it make them all fee like looking away, even though they simply cannot.

And then, just like that, the girl does. She nods and she accepts it; she's nine-years-old and her mother still has infinite chances. "Okay," she says.

Serena nods back, stares at her a moment more, and then shakes her head a little, drops a heavy hand on the girl's head, "And I am not going to leave again. Stop worrying so much," she tells her, tilting the girl's head to one side.

Gracie smiles a bit, "That's what Uncle Nate said too."

"That's because he and I are wise and awesome and you should listen to us," Serena teases, not letting herself dwell on thoughts of Nate as she opens the kitchen door and motioning for the girl to walk inside.

"I can't help it!" Gracie cries as she does. "I'm a thinker!"

Serena laughs, "Did an internet quiz tell you that?"

And Gracie's giggle leads them back inside. They're quick to make sure they catch the door— the girls preceding the boys into the kitchen.

And then they gape a little as they enter the room. In the time they've been outside, the kitchen has been transformed.

"It's Dorota!" Blair gasps, stepping forward as they look around, her eyes widening a little.

And indeed it is.

Dorota, along with the woman they knew as Gail, and two other girls, are in the kitchen— cooking. The counters are lined with ingredients from bread to eggs to vegetables to oils to spices to batter to syrups to sugars to fruit, the stoves are on, the ovens are on, and the air is filled with the scent of brewing coffee and cinnamon.

It's brunch in the making and they watch with startled expressions.

The girls are in their mid-twenties and wearing simple black and white uniforms. Gail wearing tan and white, pants and a blouse, her hair is pinned back. Dorota is wearing black jeans and a blue blouse and she's wearing her hair back as well. It's the same rich, black it's always been and she looks just as busy and content as usually; she's standing at the counter, mincing something, when Serena and Gracie walk in.

"Ah, Miss Gracie," Gail says turning to face the opening door, there's a portfolio in her hands, along with a pen, and she certainly looks more in command now than she had in the moment they had glimpsed of her the day before, "Shall we proceed to getting dressed?"

Gracie frowns at the woman. "I don't need specialized attention, even if Aunt B said…. I'm not going to be trouble today," and she lifts her chin a little, "I'm never trouble," she finishes, daring the nanny to contradict her.

"Not at all," Gail's lips spread in a placating smile, "But we do have a rather tight schedule this morning. Aside from family brunch, you and Mister Harm have a tennis lesson at eleven."

Gracie stares at her; expression stating quite clearly she couldn't care less.

Serena pats the girl's back gently, "Go on…"

Gracie sighs, drags her feet as she approaches Gail.

The woman nods, "Very good," she encourages and Gracie shoots her a scathing look.

Dorota turns around then and wipes down her hands with a cloth; sends Gail a glance fraught with meaning and then looks at Gracie, "Miss Annie needs clothing to wear; you can tell which ones you will like for her," she tells her with a nod.

Gracie brightens a little, "I can pick it?"

"If you pick nice," Dorota amends as the girl rushes out of the room.

Gail sighs, looks at Dorota with a tiny smile and then moves to follow her charge.

Serena laughs a little when her daughter has gone, moves towards a cupboard, "I need coffee—so incredibly desperately…"

One of the maids silently hands her a mug full of it before she's opened the cupboard.

She laughs again, taking it and having a big swallow before nodding, and saying, "Thank you, Lis." She glides across the room, setting down the mug on the counter as she launches herself at Dorota.

"Dorota!" She cries with a grin, "Good morning! What are you doing here!?" She laughs, "It's Saturday!"

Dorota gives her a quick hug back, says, "Good you are back," with warmth and when Serena pulls back she looks upwards and huffs, "Miss Blair, she ask for help today because house full."

Serena grins. "And you came…!" She says still laughing, "You're too good to us, Dorota!"

Dorota smiles and shakes her head at the woman, "You should go dress too…"

Serena giggles, picks up her mug of coffee from the counter, "Oh I'm dressed," she tells Dorota, "Blair can't brow beat me into dressing up for a family meal if I don't want to. I'm comfy and I want a mountain of French toast, alright?"

Dorota nods, smiling again as she turns back to the counter.

And Serena slips away again, out of the kitchen with her coffee in hand.

"Isn't it great, Chuck," Blair says as they follow, dropping back a little from Serena's side to look into his face, "I still have Dorota with me…"

And he looks over at her, at her little smile and shining eyes, at how sincere she is in this simple joy and he can't quite stop himself; he leans forward and kisses her—quick and oddly chaste and utterly sweet, because she is adorable.

Blair laughs; presses the kiss back just as quick and sweet.

Serena giggles at them, shoots Nate a quick delighted look; because it's nice to see them both happy for once; and then motions for them to leave the kitchen.

"You still okay?" He asks her stepping closer to her as they walk.

She shrugs a little. "I guess…" she murmurs; but she doesn't look over at him, doesn't meet his gaze. She knows he'll see the answer is less an ambiguous I guess and more no.

And she knows somehow as they walk through the dining room, where places have been set with silverware already, with their best friends a step behind them, that she's going to tell him anyway; because she's always wanted to tell him everything, even when she wasn't supposed to.

He's watching her and waiting for her—like always, when she looks over at him.

"It's just so weird…" she says softly, "Because…. I do know now… you know? I know and I— she said if she'd known, she wouldn't change anything, but—" Serena cuts herself off, shrugs again.

They're walking into the den now; and he offers her a small nod. "But you would?" He prompts softly.

"Maybe… I dunno, Nate… I just… I don't want to be that person that… " she makes a face, "… cheats on people, ya know?"

The words are hesitant, but not for the reason they should be; and she winces when they fill the air, when she hears them out loud.

Nate winces too; their gazes holding as their thoughts whirl to a bar and impressions of a night whose details would never fade. It swirls between them for a moment, look at you you're a mess and so you are before they blink it away, the way they've learned to do.

And then from behind them, Blair laughs; an actually amused tinkle of laughter as she teases, "Oh Nate knows."

Both blondes freeze.

They turn around slowly to find Blair smirking at them lazily, her arm is slipped through the crook of Chuck's elbow, his hand over hers, and a knowing expression on his face; in that moment, standing there like that, leaning into each other and facing out together, they already look so marriedthat Nate and Serena just gape at them for beat.

It takes a moment for Serena to ascertain that it's definitely amusement on both her brother and best friend's faces, albeit a rather twisted sort, and then she sighs and rolls her eyes.

"Are we ever going to stop bringing that up?" She wonders.

Blair shrugs one shoulder carelessly, "Take heart, after all, she hasn't mentioned it…" she says lightly, motioning to the space around them in reference to her older self.

Nate rolls his eyes, huffs, "Great— so in a decade or so, awesome." He teases.

And there's a sudden flash of peace about it among them, an acknowledgment of the scar they bear, of the brand they'll never quite manage to conceal. But also of the moment losing its footing within their story— decisive, yes; divisive, no— it would never be a fond, sepia-toned memory, would always sting in different ways, but it hadn't been the end of them, they were still here, still all together.

"Consider yourself lucky, Nathaniel," Chuck muses then, "I've a feeling I'm still hearing about… certain incidents."

Blair laughs again, shifts her look to Chuck, "Oh absolutely. You forgot me!" She accuses, but there's teasing in her voice when she says it now.

Serena giggles and darts forward, long golden hair a whirl behind as she skips ahead and into the living. Nate's gaze turns with her movement, eyes following her for a moment before his steps to do so.

And Blair tugs Chuck along after them.

In the living room, the older Serena is standing with Blair, who is dressed in a deep red skirt matched with a breezy-looking beige blouse; she's wearing tan, high-heeled sandals and her hair is twisted into a lovely chignon at the nape of her neck.

Serena in her pale blue sundress and Blair in her red skirt; S's hair loose, B's hair up— the women contrasted as vividly as they always have and it makes the four of them smile a little.

And the two of them are joined by Eric and Greg; the latter of which is in the midst of what is obviously a long winded complaint, "… and this better be it for this weekend, we are not trekking back up here for this again tomorrow!"

Eric laughs, "We're not?" He wonders.

And Greg sends him an incredulous look, "Seriously?!" He squeaks, "You want to come here again tomorrow!? But when are we supposed to sleep in?!" He asks and then rushes on before Eric can answer, "You know, I like to sleep in! And we can't—"

"Oh for heaven's sake, I wouldn't have you here again tomorrow, Gregory." Blair cuts in dryly.

Serena throws her head back and laughs, then reaches out and pats his shoulder, "I'm fairly certain this brunch is instead of not in addition to, right B?"

"Absolutely," the brunette agrees. "It's barely after nine-thirty and I'm already exhausted." She sends the other woman a dark look, "After all someone woke me up early this morning."

Serena sighs, "I was upset. I apologized."

"Why were you upset?" Greg asks, "Did you want to sleep in too? Did you have to feel the injustice of having to drive to the Hamptons on a Saturday morning before your third cup of coffee because your boyfriend's brother's wife issued an official summons at the crack of dawn?"

Blair huffs. "It was eight-thirty!" While her younger counterpart says wryly, "Kind of a drama queen, isn't he?"

Chuck purses his lips, says amusedly, "Just a bit."

"No, Greg," the older Serena answers, humoring him, "That's not why I was upset."

He nods at her. "Oh, well," he says sighing, before adding, "What then?" In a surprisingly serious tone.

Serena presses her lips together and shrugs a little, "Just been a tough morning, is all. First one back— mending fences, you know…"

Greg doesn't reply to that, just studies her with intent green eyes; before shifting the look to Blair.

The brunette promptly responds with, "She had an argument with Nate and decided to storm into my bedroom to tell me about it."

"It wasn't an argument!" Serena cries, "Not really…"

Greg looks back at her with skepticism written all over his face. He opens his mouth to speak and she lifts a hand, says, "Sssh!" Heatedly and he closes it again. "Not one word!" Serena says to him, "You're here for brunch, not to psychoanalyze your sister-in-law."

"And why are we here for brunch this again?" Eric asks, arching an eyebrow at Blair, "I'm not complaining," he offers quickly, "Just wondering…"

Blair shrugs, "Nate and Annie are here, it seemed appropriate… what with Serena's arrival and all." She adds, shooting the other woman a look. "Is Nate not back yet?" She wonders.

Serena looks away for a moment and then draws in a deep breath and pulls up a smile, "I don't know, but if he was, I doubt I'd be the first to know."

It's a heavy uncomfortable silence that follows those words; and then the older Serena, like their younger one, laughs a little and brushes it away, "But you would know, B, you know everything!" She teases lightly.

And Blair shakes her head, smiles for Serena, because Serena wants her to; but there's a seriousness in her brown gaze that won't fade; it matches that of the one in her sister's blue.

"Well he needs to get himself back here already," she says, "Ravenous children are going to stomp down those steps at any minute!" She says.

Greg gasps mockingly, "They dare to stomp!?"

Eric laughs and sends him a warning look, "She's going to lock you in a pantry…"

Blair nods.

Greg opens his mouth, Eric shakes his head before he can speak, "No, I won't be there," he tells him with a smirk.

"Eric gets crepes," Blair tells Greg.

"Blatant favoritism is beneath you, Blair." Greg reproaches, his lips quirking with laughter.

Serena giggles, "Are you kidding? Favoritism was invented by Blair."

Eric nods. "At the very least she's a charter member of the founding club," he teases and then tilts his head to one side, "Where's Chuck…? The kids aren't the only ravenous ones you know?"

"But we can't start without Nate," Serena points out.

Blair sighs. "Call him."

Serena makes face, tries to lighten the very real sorrow with joking. "Like he'd pick up."

"Fine, I will call him." Blair mutters.

"He's still not going to pick up," Eric points out.

"Don't burst their bubble," Greg teases as he moves to lean back against an armrest. He pats the space beside him for Eric to join him and then he crosses his arms, "Let's watch."

Eric grins and goes to sit by him.

"I hate when you do that," Serena says, looking at them reprovingly, despite the smile still on her lips, "We're not your movie."

"Speak for yourself," Blair says smiling as she moves to an end-table and lifts a small, sleek handset to her ear, "My life has always been a cinematic masterpiece," she finishes.

And the younger Blair nods, "So true," she says, looking first at Chuck and then at Serena and Nate. They all roll their eyes at affectionately.

"I'm right aren't I?" Eric says cheekily several moments later, "He's not picking up?"

Greg grins, pats Eric's leg. "Eric knows these things."

"Oh, shush, you two." Blair says, sighing as she sets the phone down, "He understands the concept of brunch, I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"Nice, because I'm not," Serena mumbles.

The room is quiet again, seconds sliding by, and then Eric nudges Greg a little, tilts his chin towards his sister.

Greg frowns and huffs a little, "What? I'm not a marriage counselor!" He exclaims.

And Eric sighs, closes his eyes. "I was trying for subtlety."

Greg blinks, "Oh. I missed that… and anyway, I'm not."

"I don't need a marriage counselor, thank you very much."

"Uh-huh, speaking of—where's Sunny? We have imaginary friends to track down! Which, by the way, I'm tell you is perfectly normal…" Greg states.

"You haven't talked to him about them yet," Eric argues, "He's really… adamant about them. It's a little alarming."

"So wait," Chuck whispers, leaning in close to Blair's ear, "We're supposed to presume this bozo is a psychologist."

Blair laughs, "I don't think he's a bozo."

"Be nice, Chuck," Serena tells him, "He seems fun."

"Yeah man," Nate agrees, "Fun is a good thing."

Chuck rolls his eyes, "Your standards are suffering severely."

Serena giggles, leans up to mock whisper into Nate's ear, "I think Chuck plans to screen all Eric's potential boyfriends." She tells him and Nate laughs, sends his best friend a grin.

"Yours too," Chuck corrects Serena easily, "You both have appalling predilections."

Blair nods, agreeing, "You ought follow Chuck's lead, his preference is flawless—" she sends Chuck a quick look before adding, "Though it is a recent development."

Serena opens her mouth to speak, but Greg speaks over her.

He's turned towards Eric, eyes narrowed, "You were going to drag me out here again today anyway, weren't you?"

Eric blinks at him innocently, "I would hope I wouldn't have to drag you."

Greg stares at him and Serena laughs, "I'll go get Sun," she says sweetly, "Thank you Greg, for being such a wonderful Uncle and being so sweet to your youngest nephew who just adores you."

He sighs; couldn't argue that one.

And the older Blair nods as Serena moves towards the steps, "Start sending the others down too," she tells her, glancing at her watch, "I'll try Nate again…"

"And Chuck," Eric reminds her, "Where is he?" He asks again.

"Oh," Blair says, realizing she never answered, "He's in his office, said he had to handle something. I'll call him out just before we sit."

Eric nods.

And Serena's already on the third step when the younger Blair moves towards her, tugging Chuck along, "Come on," she tells the others, "We should see Sunny… remind him to ask m—his Auntie B," she corrects herself at the last moment, "To tell him about the necklace."

Serena smiles at the back of Blair's head. Nate nudges her as the follow the couple up the steps and he grins, shaking his head; Serena giggles, because they are in perfect agreement—Blair Waldorf on a mission is a sight to behold.

"What are two snickering about?" Chuck asks as they reach the hallway; tone truly curious.

But they don't respond, just smile and look around them. Harm, wearing deep pink shorts and a pale red shirt, with his hair still on end like he hadn't combed yet, is leaning against the wall beside the door to Gracie's room— and he's holding what looks like a portable video game system in his hands, eyes focused on the screen.

"He's not supposed to be using that, right?" Blair wonders, "It's an electronic…"

As if in response, a door opens and Gail emerges, a pair of sandals in her hands. She stops beside Harm and extends her hand. He sighs, frowning at her, but hands it over. She replaces it with the sandals and then knocks briefly on the door before entering to see Gracie, and likely, Annie. Harm puts the sandals on and then crosses his arms over his chest and glares into the far wall.

"I think you're right, B." Serena agrees with a smile, moving to Sunny's room, "He's definitely not supposed to be doing that." But there's laughter in her voice because she thinks maybe the Bass boys do a lot of things they're not supposed to do.

Sunny's door is open and the room is as bright as it had been the first time they' seen it. The bed is made, the crayons and coloring books put away, the curtains are pulled back to let all the sun inside, and the little boy is sitting at his table with paper and coloring supplies. His mother is sitting beside him and they look deep in conversation.

"See," Nate says, looking behind at Chuck and Blair as he motions towards his future son, " Coloring."

Sunny looks up at his voice, little face lighting up in a smile, "Hey!" He says happily and waves at them. His blonde hair is freshly washed and still wet, it was combed, it would seem, very neatly at some point, but he's since rubbed one side of it so now an entire patch of hair was at odd angles. He's wearing a blue t-shirt with a swirling sun in pale yellow on it, shorts in the same yellow hue, and the same sneakers from yesterday—with that orange cartoon character.

His mother looks up and in the direction of his wave just they as sigh and wave back.

"Who're you waving too, baby?" She asks him.

Sunny's smile is stretching over his whole face and he goes to stand up when his Mom catches his arm, "Stay with me," she tells him sweetly.

And he nods even as the four of them approach him.

They give him variations of Hi Sunny and Hey Sunny as they come to stand over the table.

"That's the necklace," Blair says softly.

Sunny nods. "I'm drawing it again!" He tells them brightly, "With markers!" He points out.

"Baby," his mother calls, reaches out and smooths his hair gently, "What's going on?"

"Oh!" Sunny turns to her, "They're here… my invisible friends… they were—" he looks over at them, "Where did you go?" He asks, his big, blue eyes going from Blair's face to Chuck's to Serena's and coming to rest on Nate.

"We took a walk," he tells he little boy.

"They went for a walk, but they're back now," he says to his Mommy, turning back to her. Before his eyes go wide and he brings a hand to his mouth in surprise. His gaze flies to Chuck, "Are we still playing the game?"

And Chuck laughs a little, because what else can he do? "No, Sunny," he answers, "I don't think there's much point to it anymore." He tells the boy.

Sunny nods and looks back to his Mom, smiling at her. She touches his cheek gently, "So now is just a perfect time for you to tell Uncle Greg all about these new friends, isn't it?" She prods.

He nods. "Yep," he agrees and picks up a lavender marker.

"Alrighty then, let's go…" she prods him, ruffling his hair— so maybe it hadn't been Sunny you rubbed it so it stuck up then…?

"I can't, Mommy," he says plaintively, eyes focused intently on the page in front of him, his little tongue caught between his teeth as he colored in a gray oval, "M'not finished. I have to finish…"

"Baby…"

"I'm helping them," he says to his Mommy, looking over at her just then, "So they can go home, that's good right?"

She smiles a little, nods, "Yes baby, that's good," she agrees; and then glances at the page, "Just finish coloring it in and then we'll go okay…"

He nods. "I'm going to help them," he says determinedly, going back to his task.

Serena grins, feels something so warm bloom inside her she can't help but say, "He's amazing."

Just as her older self sighs and rubs the little boy's back, "If only everything could be as wonderful as you, Sunny." There's an unmistakable thread of sadness, of longing, her voice that reminds them all, this woman isn't nearly as cheery as she's behaving.

Sunny lifts his head, "Are you sad, Mommy?" He asks, brow puckered in concern, "They're sad too," he tells her.

Serena takes a moment, blinks at the boy, and then wonders softly, "Who, baby? Your imaginary friends?"

"They're not imaginary. They're invisible," Sunny corrects simply.

"Ah," Serena says, smiling and little and nodding, "Invisible, okay. Why are your invisible friends sad?"

Sunny looks a tiny bit put out by the question, "I told you," he says, going back to his coloring, "They want to go home."

Serena draws in a quick breath suddenly, her eyes scanning her little boy's profile very quickly as she wonders carefully, "Do you want to go home?"

And Sunny bites his lip a little, "Me?"

His mother bites her lip too, "Yes, baby, you."

Sunny lifts his head again, looks over at her with excitement slipping over his features, "Sure! Will you come too? And Daddy? And Liam?" He giggles a little, "And the girls!? And we can make popcorn and throw it! Like when we watched—"

But there's dawning heartbreak over his mother's face, like his every word is piercing her heart with mortal blows. And she stands abruptly, can't listen to him recount a memory, can't bear to remember the life she was so close to losing.

"Mommy?" He's looking up at her and she has a hand pressed to her mouth, is backing out of the room.

"She's going to cry," Nate says quietly.

But not quietly enough.

Sunny's gaze to him quickly and he stands up too, before looking at his Mom, "You're going to cry!?" He squeaks, looks near tears suddenly too.

But his Mommy shakes her head quickly, vigorously, "No, no…" she tells him, lowering her hand, but her voice is tight and she's drawing in a deep breath that's so close to hitching they can see it. "Just…" she's backing out through the doorway now and Sunny's following her, bottom lip coming out a little and small face fearful.

"Just… go on downstairs," she finishes for him, waving down the hallway, "G—go on," and then she turns around and rushes a few steps away to open a door and disappear inside.

They've followed Sunny into the hallway, are staring with concern at the door the older Serena has shut behind her—just like the little boy is doing.

Harm is standing with them suddenly, "What happened?" He asks, laying a hand on Sunny's shoulder, voice concerned.

Sunny looks up, big tears in his eyes, "Did I make Mommy sad?"

Harm frowns. "What?"

"No, no," Serena says quickly, "You didn't…" she nudges Nate to speak, because after all he was the one set it off. And he nods, gets it, moves towards Sunny.

"You didn't make her sad, pal. Okay, she's just… tired." He amends, figures it's a sort-of-truth, anyway.

Sunny shifts to look him, "Really?"

Nate nods, "Yeah, definitely. You didn't make her sad…"

"But you said she was gonna cry…"

Harm starts. "What?! Sunny, what're you talking about?"

"I was wrong," Nate says quickly, looks at Serena and she nods in approvingly, "You could never make her cry." He says.

"She loves you too much," Serena adds.

And Sunny bites his lip again, blinks away the tears and sniffs a little as he nods, "That's true."

"Ugh, Sunny," Harm grumbles and then pushes past the boy and to the door his Aunt had disappeared past. He knocks on it, "Aunt S?" He calls, "Are you okay?"

There's a charged moment in the hallway; silence as Harm and Sunny, and the four of them, though they count a bit less, wait for a response. The door to Gracie's room opens and she and Annie slip through it, oddly enough, smiling. Both smiles freeze as they sense the mood in the hallway.

"Aunt S!?" Harm calls again, knocking a bit harder.

Gracie takes a step forward, smile falling, "What's going—"

Her question is cut off by the opening of the door and Serena steps through it; a smile affixed to her face that doesn't come near her eyes, but will do for the children.

"Can't a lady have a moment alone with the mirror in this house?!" She teases and reaches out to ruffle Harm's hair even further. It's a collective breath of silent relief as Serena strides down the hall and motions to the steps, "To brunch, all!" She commands in a silly voice.

Harm rolls his eyes and grins, "Sunny thought he made you cry."

Sunny nods, looking up at her a touch anxiously, and his mother swoops down to lift him into her arms, "Definitely not!" She says, "You're my sunshine!"

He giggles and the girls grin and Harm roll his eyes again. Gracie's wearing white shorts and a pink tank top the same hue of Harm's shorts; Annie's wearing neon orange shorts that are too short for her and a lime green t-shirt that said I'm a princess in big bubble letters.

Harm snorts a little as they walk down the steps, "Nice shirt," he notes.

"Apparently it's the only one Gracie can spare—of her three dozen."

He laughs and as they walk down the steps, Serena adjusts her hold on Sunny and says carefully, "Those shorts are a little—"

"S'not my fault she's taller than me," Gracie points out before her mother can finish speaking, snickering a little.

"Has nothing to do with the fact that these are yours from two years ago, right?" Annie shoots back with a huff.

"Gracie," Serena says sternly while Sunny lays his head on her shoulder.

They've all reached the living room when the girl turns around, and shrugs, smiling, "She can't change now, Mom… brunch is about to start."

"And I am kinda starving," Annie says, "But still." She adds, shooting Annie a look, "I except normal clothes when you get back from tennis."

Gracie laughs. Harm's looks at her and grins.

Blair is still with Eric and Greg in the living room. "Oh, good," she says when she sees them, "Let's get to the dining room then…"

"Sunny!" Greg cries shooting up from the armrest, "Just the four-almost-five-year-old I wanted to see!"

Sunny giggles and then wiggles in his mother's arms. She sets him down and he cries, "Uncle Eric!" Like he'd done the night before and then launches himself at the man; who once again lifts him up high.

"Did you reach, Nate?" Serena asks Blair as she comes closer to the other woman.

"No." She says very seriously; eyes dark.

Serena sighs.

Cash and Liam walk in from the den then; both with wet hair and smiles.

"Perfect timing!" Blair cries, smiling at them.

There's a raucous of voices then; all of them talking at once, Serena to Annie, Gracie to Harm, Liam to Eric, Cash to Greg, Sunny to Blair and it's a mess of conversations and laughter and the four of them stair with wide eyes, they followed the group down the steps silently, and now they're standing there, gaping, because it's the most familial scene they've ever seen. It looks like it belongs inside some holiday movie about chopping down your own tree or fitting a turkey in your oven—it's completely foreign and completely theirs and they couldn't tear their eyes away for anything.

Until a door off one side of the living room opens and Chuck walks out of it— accompanied by Carter Baizen.

***