Disclaimer: I do not own "Gossip Girl."
Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews and PM's, I've really appreciated every single one. I hope you've enjoyed reading Imaginary Friends as much as I have writing it, this is the final the chapter-- dedicated to all the NS bunny's! ;)
And HUGE thanks to Blood Red Kiss of Death for being such an incredibly awesome sounding board for this story from the very beginning, thanks hon. :D
***
The office was quiet for a long beat after the older Serena's pronouncement; and then her Blair blinks at her blonde sister, shakes her head a little and says, "What?" with the wave of a hand.
And Serena shrugs one shoulder, "Well, sort of, anyway!" She amends with a giggle.
Blair stares at her, starts with, "Serena…" and trails off, her expression flirting with incredulity.
"You and Nathaniel are still married," Chuck points out calmly from a few paces beyond them, "The divorce proceedings were barely begun and now—"
"If I'd wanted to talk to you, Chuck, I'd be in your office," Serena shoots back, voice almost chipper even as her blue eyes go flinty when she looks at him.
"Oh she is cross with you," the younger Blair whispers a bit mockingly at her Chuck; her dark eyes twinkling. The transformation of Chuck and Serena's teasing from scathing taunts to affectionate sibling-like banter had been fun to watch so far; and from what she could see, would only get more amusing.
He rolls his eyes lightly at her, drawls, "I'm certain to recover," with a smiling lilt to his voice.
But there's no comment from the younger Serena despite the perfect opening, and a breath later, Blair sees why— it's because Nate hasn't removed his hands from her after steadying her, because the two of them are watching each other intently as if waiting for the others next move, because the way they're staring at one another it's like there's absolutely no one else in the room...
Which was, definitely, not the case; she presses her lips together and motions towards them with a nod of her, Chuck shifts his gaze to study the other pair.
"How exactly are you going to sort of marry Nate again?" the older Blair asks, glossing over her best friend's hiss at her husband.
The younger Chuck shrugs at his Blair; gaze going back to her face. "Maybe we won't have to do anything more at all…" he offers quietly. Acknowledging the possibility, slight though it may be, that the two blondes could figure themselves out without outside intervention.
The older Serena shifts her gaze back to her Blair, "Oh it's easy, B!" She says with a smile, "We really just want to tell—to remind ourselves how much we love each other, how in love we are, and we want to have you there and the kids and Eric and Greg and," she gives minimal pause, blue eyes flitting for one second towards the side of the room, "I guess Chuck can be there," she adds begrudgingly, "And have candles, dozens and dozens of candles, at dusk! Have them all lit up and—"
"You want to renew your vows," Blair concludes.
The blonde nods her agreement for a moment and then stops, "Well, sort of— we don't want a Reverend there or anything— just us. Something relaxed and simple, like our wedding was… we just want to—"
But Blair is already nodding, a touch of humor in her gaze, "Okay, okay…" she drawls the word slowly and Serena stops speaking as the brunette continues, "It can be arranged… although, five years is a little earlyin your marriage for a vow renewal," she tugs out of Serena's hug again and this time the woman lets her, watches her with an amused half-smile as Blair begins to move around her desk.
"It's not," she whispers.
Blair gives her a tiny eye-roll as she picks up a pen, "Chuck and I haven't even done it… but taking into account recent circumstances— it's a sweet gesture…" she continues, opening a drawer of her desk and retrieving a calendar, "I could put something together, small of course—"
"Just us…" Serena points out quietly and the eyes watching Blair are warm with affection.
Blair nods, her eyes on the calendar, already flipping through pages, "Yes, I hear you, an intimate ceremony. We can schedule it at the end of the month, I can call—"
The same warmth and affection is in Serena's smile as she finishes gently, "… tonight."
Blair's mouth snaps shut at Serena's soft word, her head lifting, "What?"
"We want to do it tonight," Serena clarifies, grinning now; delight slipping into the edges of it, sparkling in her eyes.
Blair stares at her and Serena giggles, "It's perfect, B, think about it! Everyone's already here! Even Annie! Eric and Greg too! Tomorrow's Sunday, so no one has to go to work. We can just—"
"You want to hold a ceremony for your vow renewal that resonates your wedding day for tonight?"
Serena nods once, flips her hair back and adds cheerfully, "With candles."
Blair is silent for a moment, but Serena's smile is infectious, it always is, and it begins to stretch across Blair's face too, "With candles…" she says dryly, "Of course…"
Serena reaches across the desk and tips the calendar closed. "We don't want caterers, B," she tells her softly, voice warm, "We just want you to agree, to be there like the first time…"
"And help with getting and lighting candles," Chuck points out drolly.
Both women look over at him; the younger Chuck and Blair too. He's smirking a little, looking utterly amused.
And just then, Nate speaks to his Serena, "Hey…" he says lowly, gaze still fastened on her like she's the only person in the world, let alone the room; his hands still on her waist, "Do you—"
She nods at him before he can finish speaking, her hands still on his arms as she breathes a quiet, "—yeah—"
He nods back, his hands spreading, nudging her around and forward, "—okay—"
She turns back to the door, let's her hands slip off his arms even as he slips one of his hands over one of hers; holds it firmly, as he says, "—let's go—" in a quiet, gruff voice.
"Whoa!" Blair cries, as she watches the two of them turn back towards the still open door, "Where do you two—"
Chuck reaches out and snags her arm as she takes a step to follow them from the room, "Let them go," Chuck whispers.
"Chu—"
"I'd really rather not do more, you realize."
"Well yes, that too," the older Serena's voice slides over there's, her reply directed at Chuck; her eyes narrowed her smirk almost friendly.
But Blair doesn't take her eyes off the younger version of Chuck, her version. "We can't just—"
"Yeah," he says, tugging her towards him, touching her lips with his, "We can," he murmurs, "They'll figure it out…"
And she holds still for a moment, listens to him. "We did," he finishes. And she leans in a little, closes her eyes as he kisses her.
Through the doorway, Serena and Nate tumble into the den, take steps away from the door; Serena leading, her hand clasped in Nate's as she pauses inside the small room. She looks back at him, knows her gaze flickers with uncertainty, that her hands have gone cold with anxiety… because she's not sure of what's going to happen, of what it is they're doing, of where they're going—
"We need to—" she starts and even to her own ears she sounds oddly breathless.
He nods, finishes the sentence for her, voice quiet as he says, "—talk."
And her eyes fall to his mouth, the way his lips form the word.
The door to the office is still open though and the older Serena's voice floats to them, exasperated.
I didn't ask you, Chuck!
Nate's mouth quirks into a tiny smile and she drags her gaze up to his eyes. "Someplace quieter," he says to her.
She blinks and when he starts pulling her towards the game-room, she lets him.
Her gaze is focused on the patterns the hair at the back of his head make, the way the tawny strands swirl to one side and then the other, the way the ends of it brush his neck…
And she makes herself blink, shakes her head.
Nate stops when they walk into the room and Serena registers the sound of a young voice, but when he turns towards her, her name on his lips, "Serena—"
She's already speaking, trying to explain, "She's my friend."
Nate's mouth closes and behind him the young voice gets louder.
"I don't know, Mom!"
It's Annie. She's pacing in the game-room, a phone pressed to her ear, Moonie following her steps with dogged persistence, a sofa cushion clasped in his mouth; she's changed into a very pale green sundress and her hair is braided. She's frowning as she continues, voice distressed, "I guess we're going back today…"
Nate doesn't look behind him, despite the recognizing the voice; he stares at Serena, her words ringing in his ears, she's my friend. He blinks, "What?"
And Serena sighs, opens her mouth to speak, when Annie walks right through the both of them, the pitch of her voice rising and falling with frustration, "I have no clue where he is. I told you, I was out with Harm and Gracie…"
They both jump, startled at the eerie and invasive feeling.
"Oh!"
"Crap!"
And his outburst surprises a giggle out of her, "Nate!"
"I hate that," he bemoans as the two of them stagger back away from the young girl, their legs and feet sliding through Moonie whose two paces behind Annie trying to get her attention.
"It's not like it was my idea, Mom!"
"She's talking to Vanessa," Serena says looking to Nate as they walk away from the young girl.
Annie's turning around, pacing back to the middle of the room as she listens intently.
Nate nods, walking backwards, Serena in front of him.
"Vanessa," Serena repeats, "She's my friend."
They're still holding hands and she's walking towards him, but they're both still walking away.
And it clicks then, as Annie hisses I can't say that to B, Mom into the phone, what it is Serena's saying to him.
He shakes his head. "I know she's your friend," he tells her and isn't sure where to go from there, but presses on anyway, "But it's not like that…" he tries.
Except it's totally like that—and they both know it. It's him dating a girl that isn't her and both of them still wishing it were...
"Yeah, it is," Serena counters, and then throws up her hands, "And I'm not even sure what it is we're even… like— what is it that you—that we're even talking about, Nate?" Her blue gaze is fixed steadily on his face and there's a part of her that admits she lying; a part of her that knows exactly what they're talking about, what they're on the edge of— and that part of her needs him to say it, is daring him to say it…
"You know what we're talking about," he tells her, looking at her intently, unwilling to be the one who voices it— not again. But when she doesn't respond, does nothing but look back at him with those big, blue eyes; a silent plea for him to be the one, for him to say it even if the last time he had she'd broken his heart, he releases a breath and does it anyway. Because he's never not given Serena what she wanted. "Us," he says the word barely above a whisper, but it doesn't matter, she'd read it in his eyes, "We're talking about us."
She doesn't say anything. Just continues to watch him. So he continues to talk. "Because we never do, talk about us; and I know that I got mad at you before and it's not that I meant to it was just— you were so surprised, you know? And— and I don't— I don't know why that bothered me and we're not— I know we're not togeth— we haven't ever been…" he trails off, swallows hard as he waits for her to fill in the silence.
But she doesn't, she just watches him, and so he continues talking, can't stop suddenly; beyond them Annie complains to her mother, I'm wearing Gracie's clothes…
"But it's just— this place, this future place, and looking around and seeing… the way that we— the older us— the way that they just… they're so— just completely..." and he can't say the words in love even if they're swirling in the air between them, "And if we— if we were before… and they— the future us are… then I just— I just wonder… where did it go? Where is it? Because—"
Her lips are covering his then, halting his words, flooding his senses with Serena; her arms wrapping around his neck and her hands slipping into his hair as she presses herself against him without caution or hesitancy; with nothing but that zealous abandon she's always glowed with.
His surprise wears off almost instantly, lips moving in rhythm to her, hands coming up to the small of her back, to the nape of her neck…
But just as abruptly as she was in his arms, she's gone again. And he's left staring across an arms-length at her, mouth open, eyes wide, and heart thumping wildly in his chest…
Serena looks as viscerally stunned as he feels.
And they're completely silent, except for their breaths, as they gape at one another.
It's Annie's frustrated, "But Mom!" And the way she comes barreling through them, irritation in every step as she paces, that startles them into motion.
They rear back away from the rapidly moving girl. And Serena shakes her head, rips her gaze off of Nate, because she just kissed him.
She's moving past him without saying a word, before he can say a word; just moving, because Annie keeps walking through them and she kissed him.
"Se—Serena!" He calls after her, turning around to follow her from the room.
But the blonde doesn't pause as she stalks into the dining room; doesn't even look back until he grabs her arm, "Serena!"
She whirls around to face him, her hair flying in arc around her shoulders, blue eyes frantic as they fasten onto his face, "What!?"
He leans backwards, startled by the intensity in her voice, in her eyes; and then makes a helpless motion with both hands, eyes still wide, "You kissed me," he says to her, as if it could somehow have escaped her notice.
She stares at him and can't breathe because she knows—
"I know," she says, voice faint.
"I don't care, Lynne!"
It's Nate's voice; the older one. And they both turn to look his way. He's pacing too, the length of the dining room; and his eyes are narrowed, voice heated as he continues. "It's your job. And as far as the media is concerned I had better be in the city with my daughter this weekend…"
Nate's gaze goes back to Serena, dismissing the older man. He doesn't care anymore about his future self, about the future world; everything's narrowed down to this, to his Serena and what she knows.
"Why did you—"
But she's not turning back towards him, she's moving then; and he follows without thought.
"I don't want press here, Lynne; I'll give a conference later this week… not this weekend, definitely not today… no photographers either!"
They slip past the still pacing visage of his future and Nate barely glances at him; all he can see is the trail of her blonde hair and the way her steps keep carrying her further away.
They're in the kitchen, staff and Dorota moving about, when he growls her name, "Serena!" and grabs her by the hand this time, turning her around, pulling her to him, "Stop it!"
She does; and when one of the maids walks through her, she doesn't even flinch.
"Talk to me!" Nate demands, feels a familiar frustration welling up inside him. "You just—you kissed me!"
She shakes her head; and there are tears pooling in her eyes, and she's not quite meeting his gaze, "We can't—"
"Why not!?" He shouts it, drops her hand in a wide shrug as he glares at her, "Why can't we!?"
She opens her mouth, familiar words on her tongue and his eyes flash blue fire, "Don't tell me I have a girlfriend!" It's a bellow, would shake the walls if they could be heard; and not even the maid carrying an empty serving dish through both of them can make him tear his eyes off of her.
She doesn't answer; backs away from him, shaking her head, "Let's just—pretend this—"
She doesn't finish, turns away from him again; is walking out of the kitchen, through another maid carrying a tray of cloth napkins. And he follows again; can't not. She's taking the back-staircase, climbing steps two at a time and he keeps up with her.
In the upstairs hallway she stops abruptly and when he stumbles into her; he leaves his hands where they are, one at her shoulder, the other at her waist. Gracie and Harm are standing at the opposite ends of the hallway, a soccer ball gliding between them.
Harm kicks the ball particularly hard, aiming for a square they've outlined in tape on the wall, "Mom's gonna freak. We're supposed to be reading—and no sports in the house."
Gracie laughs as she moves to intercept it, "Aren't you having fun?"
Harm grins at her, waiting for her return shot, "You know I am."
"Uncle Nate and I play all the time in our house," she points out, lining up the ball in front of her with practiced ease.
Harm rolls his eyes, "You guys also spend entire days in PJ's."
Gracie laughs and kicks the ball back, bouncing it off a railing and sliding it squarely through his legs so it slams it against the taped outline of a goal; she cries, "Score!" gleefully.
And Harm huffs, bringing a finger to his lips as he says, "Shhh!"
Nate looks away from the playing children, turns Serena towards him. He's opening his mouth to speak when she does so before him, "I can't—" she says softly, eyes fastened on his, "She's a— and I can't… I can't be that girl again, Nate. I can't be the—the secret again, I just can't. Even if I—"
She cuts herself off with a ragged sigh, runs her hand over her face as she turns away from him, towards the main staircase.
He shakes his head, "No," he says, reaching for her, "Don't walk—"
She shrugs him off, "Just leave it—"
"No, we have to talk—" he follows her, "You said we did and now—"
"I've changed my mind!" She cries, starting down the steps at a furious pace.
"Well I haven't!"
"We're not doing this to someone else!" She cries as she reaches the living room, long strides carrying her across it, "We're just not—"
"You kissed me!" Nate roars at her back.
And she freezes, is thankful he can't see her face as her eyes slip shut.
"We could sneak out…" it's Greg's voice and there's a laugh in the pitch of it.
They both ignore him; Nate approaches Serena with long strides. "You can't just do that and pretend it didn't happen! It means something! "
"You'd incur the wrath of my sister?" Eric's voice now, low and teasing and Serena shifts away from Nate, towards the sound of it, opening her eyes and taking a step towards where her brother and Greg are sitting on a sofa. There's a book in Eric's hands, even though he's now looking over at Greg.
The living room is as bright as the first time they'd walked out into it and Nate doesn't care. "Serena!?" He shifts around to face her, tries to meet her gaze, to slow her down.
But she won't, keeps her gaze averted— because looking at him is how she'd ended up kissing him in the first place. And she can't quite get a handle on the panic thrumming through her, on the need to run, to hide; because she'd kissed him, not because she was five-years-old and loved the way it sounded when he laughed, not because she was fifteen and too buzzed and awed by his grin to stop it, but because she— because it was right there and she—she knew…
And he's always loved you.
Blair's voice echoes in her ears then and she gasps, a hand coming to her mouth as Greg grins at Eric and drops across his lap, reaching up to take the book out of Eric's hands and laying it across his stomach, "Yeah. I'm okay with that," he answers teasingly; and Serena rushes past them.
She knows Nate's following her as she practically runs through the living room and towards the foyer.
"Just talk to me! Say something!" He pleads then and when he grabs her hand again she whirls around and pulls it free.
"I can't!" She shouts, "I can't say—"
She's going to cry, can feel it; and by the way he backs up, she knows he can see it.
He's looking at her with furrowed brows and a puckered mouth, with wide eyes and a gaze full of distress and confusion; and it breaks her heart.
She pushes past him, back into the living room, "Let's just— let's find Chuck and Blair and then Cash and— and get out of here," she mutters, voice tight, still not looking at him.
And he can't figure out how this all went so wrong…
In the living room, Greg and Eric have stood from the sofa and are now staring in open amusement at a tousled-looking Candace and Liam. Greg's holding the door to the closet open and Eric is grinning, an eyebrow arched, as the pair straightens themselves; there's a blush of color on Candace's pale cheeks as she runs a hand through her hair.
"So," Eric teases his nephew, "That's some movie you two are watching."
"We missed the movie," Liam says, looking not quite upset about it.
Greg nods expansively, "And you're in the closet because…?"
Liam rolls his eyes. "This house is full of people."
Serena slides to a stop to avoid running through Eric. Nate is right behind her, moving around to face her, sliding through Liam without a seconds thought.
He's looking into her face with all that heartbreak on his expression as he blows out a hitching breath. "Just stop it!" He cries, "Just— god, would you just— stop running from me!" His voice is a frustrated plea and her tears spill at the sound of it.
She lifts a hand quickly to wipe them away, but he still flinches at that sight of them; feels remorse flutter through him as he watches her rub at her cheeks. There's more conversation going on around them, Candace's soft voice and Greg's amused one, but all he sees are those tears and all he can hear is her silence.
…tell her again
And it's Chuck's words then, slipping into the silence inside him, and he doesn't even think about it, just takes a step towards her and does it, "I'm not over you, you know…"
There's such sincerity on his face, such devotion in his eyes; it makes Serena shudder with emotion, with the want of him, with everything— love and desire and need and tenderness— that's been building inside of her for longer than she likes to think; she takes a step back, brushes into Candace and takes another step backwards to be clear of her, "Nate—"
He follows her, those blue eyes fixed on her face so fiercely she can feel it. She won't stop backing up, won't meet his gaze as she murmurs hazily, "Please… don't…" her voice is low as they cross the threshold of the open closet door.
He doesn't stop following her, matches each of her steps all the way, until she's backed herself against the very far wall of the closet. No where left to run; he stands less than arms length away and he doesn't touch her.
He tells her, "I never have been," and then he draws in a deep, quick breath and doesn't think, "I'm never going to be," and he tells her again, "And we can make this right— us," and this time he adds, "We are right. Don't you feel that?"
It's a breath of time and then her gaze lifts to his; he can see fresh tears in her eyes despite the dim lighting inside the closet, but he still doesn't touch her. Knows somehow, it'll unravel them both when he does.
Serena tries to blink back the tears, "You—you know I do, you—"
"Then let's—"
"You're commi—"
"And if I wasn't?" He interrupts her, hears Chuck again, clear off your lap so she can fall into it, and presses on, "If I didn't have a girlfriend?"
Serena shakes her head, "You can't just— just do that, Nate." And she stares at him— he's so cavalier about it. She blows out a breath, latches on to a rising wisp of anger because that, at least, is clear, "And you can't just— you only want me when you can't have me!" She accuses.
He blinks at her, honestly surprised. "Are you kidding!?" He gasps, "I've always wanted— aren't you listening to me!? I—"
"You've been broken up with Blair for a long time, Nate, and it's now that—"
"And you've been with Dan!" He shouts, "Or that—that artist guy or the con-artist or—or Carter Baizen—"
"Don't do that!" She scowls, "Or do want me to list out all your post-Blair hook-ups! Starting with—"
"But I just wanted you!"
The words take the breath right out of her.
And a beat later, she hears Blair's he needs you ringing in her ears as clearly as if the brunette were repeating herself right beside her.
Serena closes her eyes, blows out a breath as the truth of it slams into her— of his I'm not over you and of that kiss she'd sprung on him, of the magic that's always there between them that she's become so adept at ignoring; of Blair's he's yours and Nate's make this right…
She opens her eyes and inhales slowly, swallows hard, "I won't ask you to—to—" to break up with your girlfriend are the words she can't say; but he hears them anyway.
"You don't have to ask."
And he reaches out to touch her then— wants to unravel her, with her— his fingertips touching her cheek gently as he slides his hand to cup her face, to smooth her hair, "You never had to ask, S, I've always just…"
He trails off there, but she doesn't need him to go on; because she knows. Because it's been thrumming inside her, alongside the panic, all along; and it's as clear suddenly as the anger had been moments ago.
She reaches out and takes his other hand in one of hers, "I know, Nate—I kissed you because I know," she brings his hand up to her chest, lays it over her heart, "It— scares me, but I…" and she shrugs a little at him, surprising even herself when a smile tugs at the corner of her lips, "I kissed you because— it hasn't gone anywhere, didn't go anywhere— it's right here…" she taps the top of his hand with her fingertips.
He remembers the kiss— and for a moment, finds it hard to think beyond the rush of Serena, the taste of her, the warmth of her against him; but she's holding his hand against her skin, and watching him with intense blue eyes, so he blinks past it and remembers— remembers trying to word his question, to point out what was so obvious— in love in the past, in love in the future…
She's looking at him and he leans his face towards her; in the dimness of the closet, surrounded by remnants of a life they haven't lived yet, he looks into her eyes and he sees it there— and his lips start to part in a smile too, because he doesn't have to pretend he doesn't.
"You're totally in love with me," he whispers.
A beat in time and then, she whispers back, "Yeah," nods a little bit, "Looks like."
His smile starts to stretch, "Good."
Nate's response almost makes her giggle, but she bites her lip instead. "And you?" She wonders.
He turns the hand she's covering with her own over and intertwines his fingers with hers, "I followed you around this house like a love-struck lunatic didn't I?"
Serena's giggle breaks free at that, "Yeah," she agrees, "You kind of did." She draws in a shuddering breath then, her smile stretching slowly.
He laughs at her giggle; feels himself uncoiling somehow, relaxing forward towards her, slipping the hand against her hair downwards, "I'd follow you anywhere," he murmurs, brushing his nose against hers.
"This doesn't fix—"
He shakes his head at her; wiggles his fingers against her ribcage, tickling her, and she shrieks a little, jerks against him as she cries, "Hey!" And he digs his fingertips in harder, grins at her as the pitch of her voice gets brighter with laughter and she giggles his name, "Nate…! Nate!"
"I love you," he tells her a beat later when he's certain she's too breathless from laughter to argue with him, "I'm pretty sure that can fix anything…"
She draws in gulps of air and then stretches towards him, lips almost touching his, "Pretty sure, huh?"
He licks his lips, eyes falling to her mouth, "Consider me the Pretty-Sure-Patrol."
She grins, waggles her eyebrows at him, "More like the Pretty-Patrol, Natie…" and she brings her free hand up to swipe breezily through his hair.
Nate laughs, swears the closet is brighter suddenly, as he looks into her smiling face, "Means you gotta patrol with me then, S— you're the prettiest there is…"
She gives a mocking gasp, teases with, "Are you flirting with me, Nate!?"
He pulls her tighter against him, answers with, "I'm in love with you, Serena."
And her grin dims a watt. She stares at him curiously for a beat and then wonders, almost carelessly, "So we're really going through with this—you and me… together, for real…?"
He blinks at the thread of hesitancy in her words, the cautiousness despite the obvious of delight, and it melts him to his core—because somehow she is unsure of him.
He presses quick kisses to her mouth, once, twice, again and again, until she's giggling and flushed with delight and ready kiss him into the same state; and then he pulls back, looks her in the eyes and nods, "Pretty Patrol confirms with a resounding yes, we're doing this, you and me, together for real."
Serena's giggles taper off after a moment and her blue eyes suddenly pulse with an odd intensity as she looks at him hauntingly; she moves both her hands to lie flat against his chest as she tells him softly, seriously, "I love you too." And she marvels vaguely at how easily the words roll off her tongue.
Nate can feel the way his face lights up at her words; and he's got a silly grin on his face when he says, "Well, yeah."
She rolls her eyes at him, "Can you kiss me now or do I have to be the one to think of it every time?"
"I think of it all the time," he defends.
"Doesn't look like it, Natie," she insists.
And then she's kissing him again, less frantic now, more deeply; her lips moving against his, her hands clenching against his chest around the fabric of his shirt…
Everything in him, around them, narrows away to her, to just her and how she fits in his arms; and when she pulls back he's dizzy with the taste of her, the feel of her, her scent and the way her hair tickles his arms.
"You should—call me," she whispers.
And he's blinking back the stars in his eyes so he doesn't catch that as quickly as he ought to. A silent beat passes and then he asks, "What?"
"When you don't have a girlfriend anymore," Serena clarifies simply, "You should call me," she bites her lip a little and his eyes drop to her mouth again, pink from kissing and bottom lip caught between her teeth…
"… ask me out," Serena continues; and he wants to laugh suddenly, when she adds, "On a date."
He looks up from her mouth, into her brilliantly blue eyes, is awed by the way her dark-blonde lashes curl upwards, and then does laugh when she bumps her forehead against his. "Think you can handle that, Archibald?"
And he thinks he can; he looks into her jubilant expression and is enchanted by her, can see how he'll call her and ask her to a movie and how she'll giggle and say yes, how he'll show up wearing jeans and a dress shirt with flowers, daisies, he thinks; can see how she'll wear tight jeans and high-heeled boots and throw her arms around his neck when she opens the door, how he'll spin her around and out of the apartment, how they'll walk the streets trying to decide what to watch, how he'll buy her animal crackers from a street cart and she'll name them all before they meet an untimely demise at both their mouths, can see that they'll never make it to the movie because he'll hold her hand and dare her to take the subway, they'll get off at SoHo and buy trinkets and beads off of tables, they'll laugh so much their sides will hurt and she'll make him give her a piggy-back ride when her feet hurt… can see he'll kiss her at the door when he takes her home and she'll giggle at him and roll her eyes, she'll pull him inside and they'll lie on her bed and they'll watch Finding Nemo on her laptop, they'll repeat fish are friends, not food to each other until he cheats by tickling her and she retaliates by puckering her lips and—
She pats his cheek lightly, "Nate…"
Her touch, her voice, startles him and he blinks the images away.
"Yeah," he says huskily, leaning in to kiss her again, "I can handle it."
He kisses her, lightly at first, until she starts kissing back and then the rhythm that is them fills his senses like an achingly familiar memory and he pulls her closer; she makes a purring sound at the back of her throat and he responds in kind. He's losing track of himself again, knowing nothing but her as the room outside his closed lids spins around them…
"Oh wonderful— we're off trying to successfully engineer a way home and you two are making out in a closet…"
Blair's voice doesn't make Nate and Serena jump apart, but it does have them lifting their heads— well, that or the need for air; it's one of the two, they're certain. They smile at each other without turning to face the brunette.
And when Blair adds, "Just lovely," they can't contain their laughter, Serena's hand comes up to cover her mouth as giggles spill out and Nate's grinning so big it feels like it'll stretch off his face. They're breathless from kissing and flushed from each other and nothing Blair can say is going to change that.
But the look in their friend's sparkling eyes when they do finally shift to face her, says she wouldn't want to anyway. She looks oddly triumphant and beside her Chuck is smirking.
"And this proves," Chuck drawls, eyes slipping over to Blair, "That I was right."
She huffs, sends him a quick glare and then returns her gaze to the two blondes, "We've been looking for you, we have to find Sunny."
Nate nods, steps back a little and Serena steps forward, his hand still resting on her hip.
"You're not even going to ask us?" Serena wonders, laughter in her tone.
Blair blinks, not quite smirking, "Ask you what? About why your son and his girlfriend are sitting outside this open door being lectured by Eric and mocked by Greg in an odd tandem that I think is designed to utterly humiliate…?"
Serena gapes at her friend, "Oh, um, I think… they were…"
"Making out in a closet?" Blair finishes, definitely smirking now, "Yeah we got that."
Nate shakes his head, "No, not that," he says as he makes a waving motion between himself and Serena, "Uh, about this. The two of us…"
Blair rolls her eyes and Chuck presses his lips together, manages to look bored and vaguely frustrated, "We have matters a bit more urgent to handle than listening to the two if you expand upon a perfectly clear-cut situation, Nathaniel."
Blair nods. "You're in love and you're making out, congratulations," she summarizes, before adding a touch hysterically, "And you should know that the necklace is a dead-end…"
That pronouncement makes both Serena and Nate jolt, eyes going wide.
"What!?"
"But how!?"
"We went to find Cash," Blair tells them, "He was in Chuck's office, reading the—"
"In my chair," Chuck interrupts.
And by the heated scowl Blair directs at him, they can tell it's not a welcome interruption, "Would you get over that!" She snaps.
"I was never allowed in my father's chair."
"You're going to do things differently with your kids!"
"Not everything should be different."
"Could you guys get back to the only-lead-we-had-is-a-dead-end part of the story, please?" Serena commands.
Blair rolls her eyes at Chuck and then looks back to her sister, "The file said, it belonged to Chuck's Mom's great aunt."
Nate blinks, "File?"
"We read it from the page Cash was reading," Chuck explains.
"Okay, so what did it say," Serena presses.
Chuck looks over at her as he continues, "It was given to her by a man that loved her—"
"And she loved him," Blair points out softly.
Chuck nods and finishes simply, "She was eighteen. Then he died and she kept it until her death."
Blair sighs and shakes her head, takes a step closer to where Serena and Nate are standing, "She wore it until her death," she clarifies, "And it's, romantic and all, but it's not helpful."
Nate sighs, "Is that… everything… there was nothing else…?"
"The flower inside the pendant is real," Chuck adds carefully, "Says she gave it to him as a good luck charm once. It was crystallized in gemstone and made into the pendant and then the necklace."
"Why'd he give her the necklace?" Serena wonders.
Blair shrugs, "Didn't say."
"People give people they love gifts, sis," Chuck points out dryly as he steps towards Blair.
Serena doesn't comment; she asks him, "When did he die? The guy?"
"Doesn't say."
"Was he… was he eighteen… when he died?" She continues, expression turning thoughtful. Nate looks over at her, a small smile on his lips at how adorable that little concentration line between her brows is.
"It didn't say," Blair reiterates Chuck's words; and the two of them exchange a private glance.
"What if he was?" Serena presses, eyes glazed over in thought, "What if… if he was eighteen and she was— and they… had a fight and he… gave it to her… to say he was sorry… what if you and Chuck replicated the scenario like… like exactly and— and it—"
Blair huffs. "And it gave us a glimpse of the future so we don't waste time with fights?" She finishes for the blonde, Serena nods at her, and Blair continues, "Yeah, S, I thought of that; but there's nothing about the necklace that would do that, okay? There's nothing written about it that indicates it has that sort of power."
"Or explain why you and Nathaniel would be dragged along."
"So we wouldn't waste time either," Nate responds to Chuck's words almost instantly.
And Serena looks over at him with a warm smile.
Chuck inclines his head a little, looks amused by them, oddly happy for them.
Blair continues, "But their situation wasn't… weird— sad, yes. But we're looking for— for a strange, life-altering, time-traveling situation, and there's nothing like that. The necklace—"
"—isn't cursed," Chuck finishes firmly.
"If it was, it probably wouldn't be recorded," Nate says carefully.
Chuck waves a hand lightly, "Don't start encouraging S now just because she'll pleasure you, Nathaniel."
Nate frowns at his friend, "Don't say it like—"
"Maybe it's not a curse exactly…" Serena cuts in; not wanting the boys to argue right now, "Maybe it's… a—a gift…"
"That no one makes a note of, S?" Blair questions with a sigh; and then she waves her hand, "I mean, I guess it's possible no one remembers…"
"This isn't the kind of thing you forget," Nate says quickly.
"Maybe it's a side-effect," Serena offers.
Blair shakes her head, "S, it—"
"It's just... them and you two... the circumstance is a really… similar thing," the blonde points out before Blair can finish.
"Except it's not," Blair says, sighing a little, "We don't know that any of that happened, it just could have."
"Let me see it again, the necklace," Serena says, "Let me see the flower inside it…"
Blair looks over at Chuck and he shrugs a little. The brunette puckers her lips and then nods, humoring her friend; she steps closer to Serena, Chuck a pace behind her. Nate shifts closer to the girls, wanting to get a look at it too.
Blair slips the pendant necklace from her pocket, the delicate gold chain pooling in the palm of her hand.
Four heads, two dark-haired and two fair-haired, bend over the necklace as Blair holds it up, "See," she says carefully, "Inside the amethyst…" she touches the end of a fingertip to the stone, "Right ther—"
Under her touch, the stone flickers, a vivid white-blue flash sparking from it.
Blair gasps, "Oh my god!" as she yanks her hand away and rears backwards into the coat-rack of the closet.
"It sparked!" Serena shouts, springing back into Nate as she points at Blair's hand.
Nate wraps an arm around Serena's waist as he cries, "See! I knew it!"
Chuck's reaching for Blair and muttering, "Fuck!" as he steadies her backwards stagger. "We need to—"
They feel the breeze whirl around them seconds before the closet door slams shut behind them. It's alarmingly familiar, exactly how it had happened the day before, except this time the wind inside the closet isn't stopping. It's whipping around them, tearing at their clothes and hair.
"Blair! Put it down!" Serena shouts; she and Nate staggering back against the wind. She's falling back into him and he's sliding down the wall.
The wind is whirling around them in no discernible pattern, making the items hung on racks fall and the boxes stacked tremble; Chuck has both arms wrapped around Blair, one hand covering the hand she's holding the pendant with, "Give it to me!" He tells her, voice loud to be heard over the wind.
"What's going on!?" Nate shouts; disoriented suddenly, the room doing a sickeningly slow spin before his eyes then.
But it's Blair who's falling downwards, eyes at half-mast, going limp in Chuck's hold.
He starts. "Blair!"
"What's happening!?" Serena demands, making her way towards them; she's on the floor crawling over, trying to brush hair out of her face.
"I don't know!" Chuck shouts at her, a hand going to Blair's face as he finishes lowering her to the floor.
"Blair…" Serena tries, but there's barely sound to the word; the wind is making it hard to breathe, to gather enough breath to scream.
Blair blinks slowly, the world a swirl of dark shadows spinning above her head; it's too hot and they shouldn't be in here, they should open the door, "We need to… to… shouldn't be… get out…" Her thoughts are muddled, churning as rapidly and as erratically as the wind, flashes of faces and threads of thoughts whirling uncontrollably through her mind.
Nate shakes his head, blinks the odd swirl of lights back from his gaze. "Call for Sunny!" He yells at them, trying to be heard above the implacable currents of air.
Chuck hears him, nods in agreement; at least the little boy can hear them.
… how could this happen…
"Eric!?" Serena gasps, breathless; her eyes flying around the room haphazardly as the sound of her little brother's voice reverberates seemingly off the walls. But Eric is nowhere in sight and the wind blows long strands of her hair across her face.
"Sunny!" Nate shouts; he's moved towards the door, is pounding on it with a closed fist.
… call their mothers…
"Is that Lily!?" Chuck hollers the question; his stepmother's smooth voice washing over all of them.
But no one answers— they can't think, minds ambushed by too many thoughts and images, too many memories and illusions— a party and a pool, a closet and a heat wave, a brunch and a black-out— roiling in a relentless fusion of blended remembrances and fantasies.
Serena can't catch her breath and Blair's shaking her head lethargically against Chuck's arm. The blonde slumps forward, head falling to Blair's shoulder.
The room is spinning, boxes crashing off their shelves, tipping over, hangers falling around them and Chuck leans back against the wall of the closet, dark blurs crossing his vision, enshrouding everything around him as he tries to draw in a steadying breath; the world shudders and lurches though and the only thing remotely steady is the encroaching darkness that sweeps him away.
Nate's pounding grows distant, his voice hoarse as he shouts, Sunny!
Serena lifts her head listlessly at the sound of his voice, there's darkness at the edges of her vision as she frowns languidly in Nate's direction; she can't understand what's going on, "Nate… wha—" Or where they are, "Na--ate…?" She mumbles again.
Nate sags against the closet door, says, "Sunny," one more time and then he falls silent, closes his eyes as he falls away into the shadows waiting at the edges of his vision.
Serena blinks, mind a frantic blur of white noise as she tries to focus despite the wind and the nauseating swirl of shadows surrounding her, to figure out what Nate's saying...?
"Who's— who's... Sunny…?" She breathes faintly; but the question is lost amid the whirlwind.
And a moment later, as her head drops back to Blair's shoulder and her eyes slip shut, the inside of the closet is completely still; all four of them sinking into a beckoning oblivion as Lily Bass's voice echoes around the silent space, assured and affectionate, and not wholly understood.
… they'll be okay…
.Fin.
.Epilogue, to Come.