Disclaimer: I do not own "Gossip Girl."

Author's Note: So this chapter and the previous are what happens when I have nothing to do for a whole day. :P They were originally one chapter, but then I felt this chunk could be it's own entry. Thank you all so much for reading and all your reviews and comments. I appreciate them all a lot. And to my NS reviewers (you know who are) their time is coming.


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Serena and Blair, both versions, gasp quite dramatically; but the older versions follow it up with a frown and a scowl respectfully.

"Chuck, what is going!?" Blair demands, and the kids fall silent, shifting to look at Chuck, noticing Carter.

"Carter," Serena says carefully, "Wha—what are you doing here?"

It's easy for the four of them watching to tell which kids know Carter—the expressions on Liam, Cash, Harm, and Gracie's faces become anxious and their gazes fly to Serena.

"Perfect," Chuck says, walking towards his wife, eyes on his sister, "We were just coming to find you." He says to the blonde.

"Mom, what is Carter doing here?"

"And hello to you too, Gracie," Carter says, winking at the girl.

"Carter," Serena warns. She goes to answer her daughter, but Blair speaks again, eyes on Chuck.

"What is going on? Why is he here, Chuck?"

"No thank you, Blair, I simply can't stay for brunch, but the off—"

"Carter, stop!" Serena snaps, "You said you'd call me, not that you'd—" she cuts herself off, eyes going to Chuck, "What did you do?"

"How about we go on in to the dining room," Eric says, shifting Sunny in his arms, "I can't be the only one starving!" He calls out as he turns around, shooting Greg a look.

"That's right!" Greg agrees, "You just said you were hungry Annie! I bet the others are too… come on! Cash you have to finish telling me about your t-rex 'cycle!" He says with enthusiasm and it wasn't false excitement at all; which is probably why Cash nods and moves towards him.

"Mom…" Liam's voice is questioning even as he too moves to leave the room.

"We're going to be right in," Chuck tells all the kids, smiling. His hair is combed and he's wearing long, beige slacks with a warm red shirt and beige vest, his ascot is a patterned silk that looks like maybe there are roses on it, red roses. "You all go ahead," he adds, and there's a thread of steel in his voice.

Greg and Eric guide all children from the room; and when they've all gone, the room feels oddly still.

"Explain." Blair hisses, dark eyes going from Carter to her husband, landing there with force.

"I got a call early this morning asking me to come in for a preliminary meeting," Carter explains easily, hands coming out to his sides in a shrug, "And you'll be happy to know we've come to an understanding—for now at least."

"No, no," Serena says shaking her head, "That's not—" her gaze narrows at Chuck, "You were asleep early this morning. You can't have—"

"I do have people who make phone calls for me, Sis, at all hours of the day if I so choose," Chuck cuts in, "I asked for it to be done last night."

"Why? You said you wouldn't work with him. What changed? What did you do?"

"I'll leave Carter to explain the details to—"

"No," Serena snaps, taking a step towards Chuck, "You explain it to me. What. did. you. do?"

And Chuck takes exception to the tone. They can see it in the way his eyes narrow, the way his mouth thins, "I did exactly what you wanted me to do," he says flatly, "Business. With Carter."

She shakes her head, eyes going to Carter. "Why didn't you call me? Tell me you were here?"

"Things happened in a bit of a rush, darling," he says easily, smiling at her. But it's the smile he gives everybody and his eyes are not quite meeting hers.

"This is ridiculous!" Blair hisses, "Explain yourself now, Chuck." She says leveling him with a glare.

He shrugs, pulling his gaze from Serena, "There is nothing for me to explain. I had a contract drafted. I presented it. Pending some additional queries later this week, he's tentatively agreed to sign. End of story." He tells her.

Blair arcs in an eyebrow, not buying it-- no one is buying it.

So Chuck adds carefully, "My part of the story."

"Carter." Serena says his name like a question and a demand rolled into one with a hint of a plea in it. And something flickers over his face.

He nods. "There might be a bit more." He acknowledges.

"As in?" Serena prompts.

He takes a step towards her. "Let's go outside and—"

"As. In?" She repeats, her patience slipping.

"Serena—"

"As in what, Carter!?" She shouts now.

"As in a three-year separation clause," he responds on a rush.

And Serena stares at him. "A what?" She asks after a long moment.

"Three years," Carter answers simply, "Where we are… separate."

She gapes at him for another beat, before turning stormy, blue eyes onto Chuck.

And the four of them cringe. "That's the look that is not your friend," Nate whispers to the younger Chuck. And beside him, both girl's whisper shh.

"You," the older Serena's says, her voice low, building up pressure no doubt, "Put a three-year-separation-clause in the contract?"

Chuck nods, face blank. "Yes. I can have a copy sent to you if like. Though your signature isn't required."

Serena blinks at him; like he's an alien life form speaking another language.

Blair touches her husband's arm, "Do you really think it's necessary that you do—"

"Yes," Chuck answers without looking over at her, "It is."

Serena's mouth opens to say something and then closes in silence. Her gaze stuck to Chuck's, disbelief written all over her expression—she is truly speechless.

"Perhaps—" Blair begins.

But Serena finds her voice then, cuts her off, and the brunette learned a long time ago to step back when Chuck and Serena are having a spat.

"Have you lost your mind!?" The blonde shouts at him.

"No," he answers her simply.

"Serena," Carter says and he's standing beside her then; reaching out and laying a hand on her arm, "We need to—"

She shrugs off his touch and takes another step towards Chuck, "Oh you must have, Chuck!" She continues angrily, "Because where the hell do you get off thinking you can control who is in or out of my life!?"

Chuck eyes her darkly. "Serena—"

"Because who the hell do you think you are!? You have absolutely no right to do shit like that!? To set terms in a Bass contract that affect my life in ways that—"

"I'm your brother, Serena," he cuts her off, "And I'm fuckin' tired of watching your life go up in flames every time he gets anywhere in the vicinity of you!"

"Now, that's not precisely accurate," Carter chimes in.

"Shut-up!" Serena shouts at him before glaring daggers at Chuck, "That is not what happens, and you know it!? This has nothing to do with Carter, and everything to do with me messing up BI's image of a happy family business!"

"Oh give me a fuckin' break, Serena, if I was worried about BI's image I'd have fired you six years ago! I'm doing this for your own good! You need to—"

"I'm not one of your kids, Chuck! I don't need you to do things for my own good! I can—"

"Then stop acting like one!" He shouts back, eyes sparking dangerously, "Name one time, one time, this chump has popped into your life that things haven't ended badly!?" He challenges.

"I don't need to justify my friends to you!"

"What you need is to stop—"

"Okay, enough!" It's Carter that snaps it; coming between them suddenly, his back to Chuck, his eyes on Serena. "Enough." He repeats it more softly, hands coming out to rest on each of her arms. "He offered it, yes." He tells her, "But I agreed. I'm the one who agreed." He reminds her.

And she stares at him, mouth closing, eyes losing that fire and filling with confusion.

"Come on," he says and turns her around. She lets him; is completely silent suddenly, as if she were speechless all over again.

Carter tosses a look over his shoulder at the dark-haired couple still standing there, "Mr. and Mrs. Bass," he offers, "Always a pleasure."

And then he leads Serena towards the foyer.

There's no question about it. The four of them follow Carter and the older Serena without a moment's hesitation, without a word of comment, because there's a world spilling out of these arguments, these conversations, and one day it will all be their's.

They find the two outside, in the front yard, again. It's an echo of last night. The jag parked in front, the same man and the same woman, holding the same positions—but the feel is different, the mood has changed. There's anger and finality in their gazes now.

As the four of them descend the front steps, Serena slips her hand into Nate's—seeking the solace he's always offered her; and he holds it tight, shoots her a quick, supportive glance.

"… why would you though?" The older Serena is asking Carter, and there's a bit of hurt in her voice.

"It's just three years, baby, it'll fly by," he tells her wryly.

"That's not the point, and you know it." She says a little sternly, "And I just—why would you agree to that?"

He ducks his head a little, looks at her through lowered lashes, "Because you're the best fake-real wife I've ever had."

It pulls a smile to her face, despite the stress in the lines of her body, "I'm the only fake-real wife you've ever had," she teases and then narrows her eyes a bit teasingly, "Right?"

He nods; meets her gaze, "One and only, baby."

And there's nothing fake about the words.

Her smile turns sad even as she relaxes a little; she steps closer to him, reaches over and takes his hand. Their fingers intertwine and he smiles at her.

She sighs. "You know I love you, right."

He nods. "I know."

"It's just… different…"

"I know," he repeats gently.

She laughs a little, "We've had this conversation before…?"

"Twice," he tells her, "Thrice, now."

She's sure to meet his gaze when she says, "It's not true. My life doesn't go up in flames because of you."

"No, it's not," he agrees, "But I do happen to be in it a lot of the times it does." He says wryly.

"That doesn't mean anything. I don't need an imposed amount of time without your friendship. Despite what Chuck thinks, I can manage my life fairly well most of the time."

"I agree," he says; but then adds very gently, "But maybe I do."

Her eyes widen; the words sting. "Carter—"

He presses on, "Maybe it's time I stop finding what I look for, in you; time I stop turning to you."

There's a glimmer of tears in her eyes; and she goes to pull her hand a way, but he won't release it.

"It's not your doing," he tells her, "It's mine. And I—I need to stop. Life's too short to keep making the same turn over and over again when you know exactly where it leads—a beautiful cul-de-sac. And your life, it'll heal better, faster, if I'm out of the picture." He reaches up and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, "I'm being a responsible adult about this; don't talk me out of it."

She breathes a soft, watery laugh at the words.

He nods. "That's better. You know, I'm right… we'll be okay…" And releases her hand now, steps back a little, "And you'll see, time'll fly by…"

She stares at him for a long moment; works his words through her mind at different angles, different perspectives; knows she could talk him out of it, but he's asked her not to.

And she listens.

Instead she shakes her head, draws in a deep breath, "I can't believe you're agreeing with Chuck though."

And Carter laughs lightly, wags a finger at her and says, "He wanted five years."

Serena rolls her eyes in exasperation. Tries to find more amusement, but sighs instead as she meets his gaze, "I swear we say goodbye so much we should have a script by now."

"Don't we?"

She considers, and then smiles a bit, "Yeah, I guess so."

He nods, "I start with, call me if you need anything."

"And I say, you too."

"And I tell you you're beautiful and I mean it and goodbye."

"And I know, and I so do I and…" she trails off, can't say it yet.

He doesn't press her, slides right over it. "And then traditionally, I'd kiss you," Carter offers, "But given yesterday's little debacle, I'll refrain from doing so," he teases, looking around the front yard and street.

She smiles.

"You know, if you need me for something though, forget the stupid contract, just say so and I'll break it."

"You'll lose representation."

"I can find another."

"Yes, but Bass is the best." The words come automatically and she cringes as soon as she hears them out loud, says, "Don't tell him I said that," quickly, a tiny smile on her face.

He grins at her, "Secret's safe with me."

And she nods soberly, eyes warm on his face, "They always have been."

"Always will, too." He adds firmly.

And then he's opening the car door, slipping inside, closing it.

The car comes to life as he turns on the ignition and Serena takes a step away from. He looks up at her through the open window and smiles, "I'll see ya around, baby."

And she doesn't cry when the car takes off down the street a moment later, doesn't do anything really; just stands there and watches it until it disappears around the block and then she says very softly, "Bye Carter."

It's another moment before she turns around and walks back up the steps and into the house; and then Blair turns to her Serena with a frown, "Is he actually your friend?" she asks incredulously.

Serena frowns at her, "Yes! That's what I've been saying!"

Blair gapes at her then mutters, "Ugh," in quiet frustration as she turns to head up the steps, tugging Chuck along with her. He says loud for Serena to hear, "This is what I mean, deplorable predilections."

Serena rolls her eyes and turns to go back inside as well, when Nate squeezes her hand, "You good?" He wonders.

She nods as they walk. "Yeah, I guess… aside from the fact that Chuck apparently never stops meddling in my life and at some point I'm Carter's fake-real wife…"

"And his real-real wife too," Nate points out.

She nods, "I'm thinking those are two separate instances… probably."

Nate laughs a little, squeezes her hand again, "Life with you is never boring…!" He teases.

She bites her lip a little as they walk through the foyer, Chuck and Blair ahead, leading the way to the dining room, "Yeah, but maybe…" she says, giving him a sidelong glance, "Future-You wants boring."

Nate shakes his head without hesitation as they walk along, "Nah, Future-Me is still me and I'd…" he pauses abruptly, realizes where he's going with that.

"You what?" Serena prods as they walk into the dining room from the den.

He shrugs, "I'd want you… exactly the way you are."

It's so simple and she loves it, him, for it. She beams; she knows it and doesn't even try to stop it, the smile stretching across her face, slow and pleased, and he smiles back, he's made her happy.

"It appears they began without you," Chuck says when Nate and Serena finally join him and Blair where they're standing at the head of the table.

The entire family, sans Nate, is seated and eating, chatting amicably with one another, the environment warm and pleasant. The older Serena smiles at everyone, says smells wonderful! and slips into her seat beside Blair.

Blair laughs, because the children are all watching intently, says with a smile, "It does! Need good food for such an exciting weekend, don't we!?"

Serena nods at the words, playing along, as she spreads her napkin over her lap and starts filling her plate with French Toast.

She pointedly avoids looking at Chuck who's at the other end of the table; and doesn't say a word to Blair as she pours syrup over her food. Liam is to her right and he's engaged in a conversation with Cash and Annie.

After her first mouthful of food, she leans towards Blair and whispers, "I want words with Chuck, tonight."

And it must have a sort of significance, that wording, because Blair's eyes slide closed for a moment. And then she nods, but doesn't look over at Serena, keeps her gaze focused on cutting her omelet up into small pieces, "Fine. But let's just— get through brunch," she says emphatically.

Serena nods, because they all have to admit— it's been a long morning.

It's hard to say who sees him first, or to hear exactly what is said among the many threads of conversation, but quite abruptly, the entire dining room plunges into silence.

Because Nate is standing at the entrance to the dining room, in the doorway, still wearing his jogging pants, t-shirt, and sneakers; and he's panting, dripping sweat onto the floor, hair plastered to his forehead—looking for all the world like he'd just run to Manhattan and back.

The look on his face does not invite words; every plane of it taunt with tension, jaw clenched, mouth pressed together in a straight line and when he starts walking forward.

Everyone's gaze follows him.

The blue of his eyes is so dark they appear black and they are fastened, completely and unerringly, on his wife.

He strides towards her without a single word to anyone and only Sunny dares call out a greeting; his joyful Daddy! echoing in the silent room.

"Later, Sunny," Nate says, voice low and gruff; not sparing his son a look, still watching his wife.

And then he's standing beside Serena's chair, extending his hand to her, as he says just as lowly and gruffly, "Let's talk."

Serena hesitates for a single moment; looking to her plate as indecision and wariness mix with longing and hope in a flash across her face.

And then she nods, lifts her napkin from her lap and sets it on the table as she lifts her eyes to her husband and places her hand in his.


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