174. i loved you then and i love you now (two)
Title | i loved you then and i love you now
Chapter| two
Rating | pg-13
Characters | Serena. Dan. Blair. Nate. Chuck.
Summary | The year is 2019. Two of New York's most prestigious private schools, Constance Billard and St. Jude's, are hosting a 10 year reunion for the class of 2009.
Notes | I started writing this ages ago and recently reformatted/replotted it to correspond to the events of 5x24. Chuck's presence is therefore regrettably necessary. The title is from Grouplove's TongueTied, which has been in my head a lot re: GG lately.
two.
She's reading when he comes home, legs tucked beneath herself in bed, nose tucked into a book. It's a strangely startling sight; he hasn't seen Blair read in a while.
He's used to her being awake when he gets home. She doesn't sleep much without him, doesn't sleep much at all, and he thinks that she likes to know what time he gets home, likes to look at him, searching for alcohol on his breath or perfume clinging to his coat. They don't talk much when he gets home, but he's used to seeing her awake. She's usually reading a magazine or the newspaper, studying china patterns for the wedding, examining an endless array of photographs of flower arrangements. He is not, however, used to seeing her with her nose buried in a book.
That's what prompts him to ask, "What are you reading?"
Her head snaps up and the book falls closed. "Nothing," she says softly. "Where have you been?"
"Meeting," he sighs, undoing his tie. "You know how it is."
"Yes," Blair murmurs. "Of course."
"You're up late," he tells her.
"So are you," she says quietly, perfectly still in their bed, looking small and strangely fragile in their king-sized bed, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders.
"Suppose so," he nods, taking off his shoes before he moves toward her. "You look beautiful," he says, sitting next to her slowly, sinking into the mattress slightly. "Even at this hour…"
She sets her eyes on his face. "What's so special about this hour?"
"This," he says, leaning in to kiss her.
They are much different than they used to be. He misses the versions of Blair he used to have, Blair dancing in front of him, in his limo with her arms snaking around him slowly; Blair in beautiful dresses, kissing him politely before a party and yanking him into bed afterward by his tie; Blair and the quiet gleam of happiness in her eyes the first time he'd ever told her that he loved her. He misses the Blair that kissed him back fiercely, kissed him like they were in a movie montage, kissed him like she wanted to.
Now, she stays still against him, accepting his kiss and only returning it with the slightest bit of pressure.
"I can't wait to marry you," he tells her as they shift on the bed; she sinks back against the pillows and he stretches out over her. "I love - "
She kisses him purposefully for the first time in days, a shut up kiss if there ever was one.
Dan wakes up in the morning to the sound of little-girl giggles, a sound that makes him smile instinctively as he sits up on the couch. He and Serena had slept there, tangled together, her head on his chest, and left their daughters in their bed for the night. He's alone there now, and when he looks toward the kitchen he sees the twins sitting on stools at the island, Serena leaning her elbows on it across from them, smiling fondly at them as she sips coffee from a mug, his bathrobe on, untied over her pyjamas.
"Can we go to the park?" Trixie asks eagerly around a mouthful of Cheerios. "When Daddy wakes up?"
"Daddy's awake," Dan tells her lightly as he gets up and moves toward them, dropping kisses on each of his daughter's heads.
Trixie beams. "Let's go the park!"
"You have to finish your breakfast first, honey," he tells her gently, smoothing her tangled hair. "Hey," he murmurs then, glancing over at Serena.
"Hey," she replies softly, and they lean across the island to kiss each other.
"Ew," Trixie says, and Lucy giggles.
"We're going to the park," Serena says lightly. "Apparently."
Dan nods easily, stealing her mug of coffee and taking a sip. He winces as he swallows; he always manages to forget that she fills her coffee with more sugar than he can handle. "That's good…I like the park."
"I'm done," Lucy announces, setting her spoon down in her bowl neatly and looking up at them eagerly.
"Alright, baby," Serena tells her gently. "You can go get dressed…don't forget socks."
"Me too," Trixie says eagerly, dropping her spoon on the countertop and slipping off of her chair, rushing away.
Serena watches them run off, a little smile on her lips, before she glances back at Dan. "There's more coffee in the pot, babe," she tells him softly, easily.
"Thanks," he says, looping an arm loosely around her waist as he moves by her, pulling her into a soft, brief kiss.
She twines her arms around his neck, keeping him close. "You didn't tell me how your conference was…"
"We were kind of busy last night," he says softly, giving her a small smile.
She smiles back, says, "Tell me now."
"It was…" He shrugs. "Conference-y." He gives her a quick squeeze before he lets her go, moving to get a mug so he can pour himself some coffee. "You should get dressed…they'll want to go to the park in about five minutes."
"They can wait," she says quietly, and he can feel the weight of her gaze on his face.
He smiles over at her, searching her eyes for a beat. "They won't, though," he laughs lightly. "They get that from you."
She makes a face at him, but it only lasts for a moment before she sobers again. "I just - "
He takes a long drink of coffee. "You just what?"
"Nothing," she says quietly.
Dan sighs. "Serena, don't do that."
"I'm not doing anything," she murmurs. "You are."
He inhales and exhales, slow and measured. "Honey, I just got back," he says calmly. "Let's not fight," he adds, lamely. It's not so much that they fight, though; it's more that Dan fights while Serena stays quiet, her words soft when she says them and her eyes dark, unreadable. They haven't fought in years, not the way they used to, not since they were married.
Serena's teeth dig into her bottom lip.
And he sighs again. "What did I do?"
"You didn't do anything, Dan," she says quietly, moving past him to set her mug in the sink. "You're just…not talking to me."
He frowns. "I'm talking to you right now."
"You know what I mean," she says quietly. "I just asked you how your conference went and you won't even tell me."
"Why would I bore you by talking about a lit conference?"
"Bore me?" she echoes, a little scoff following the words. "Say what you really mean."
"Okay, fine," he huffs. "Tell me what I really mean to say, because I have no idea."
"You mean that I won't get it," she says, tying his robe closed over her pyjamas. "That I can't understand whatever you talked about at your conference, so why bother."
"That - I never said that, Serena."
"No," she says softly, "Exactly. You never say anything."
"I'm…sorry. I'll tell you all the boring details, if you want."
"No, it's…never mind," she murmurs. "You're right, we should get dressed."
"Serena," he sighs.
"You're right, Dan," she says firmly, and then she's smiling at him, this sunny thing that doesn't reach her eyes. "They'll want to go right away."
"Yeah," he says quietly, watching her move down the hall. "I guess they will."
Blair wakes up first in the morning; she wakes up first every morning. She slips out of bed the way she always does, lifting the arm Chuck has slung heavily over her middle with careful fingers and rolling out from underneath it, getting off of the bed without jostling the mattress.
She goes into the kitchen and begins her breakfast routine: she cuts a grapefruit precisely in half and sets one half of it on a plate along with five green grapes, toasts a single piece of bread, spreads a small amount of butter on it, cuts it into fourths and tosses three of them away, setting the remaining one on a plate. She takes a tall glass from the cupboard and fills it halfway with skim milk. Then she carries both the plate and the glass into the dining room and sits down at the table.
It takes her almost an hour to eat her small feel, nibbling and sipping between sending e-mails to the branches of Waldorf designs in Europe and corresponding with her wedding planner.
By the time she gets to the morning mail, she has two grapes and a few sips of milk left. There are the usual things: Chuck's preferred newspaper, her preferred newspaper, RSVPs to the wedding. Two of the envelopes look unlike the other; they're not the black-and-white patterned RSVP envelopes; instead, they are an off-white, addressed individually to Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf rather than to Chuck & Blair like the wedding RSVP envelopes are.
She sets the one addressed to Chuck aside and then opens her own, sliding her letter opener neatly into the seam of the envelope.
Dear Blair, it begins, and goes on to invite her to the ten-year reunion of the graduating class of 2009 from Constance Billard and St. Jude's schools.
She stares at it, unblinking. Her immediate instinct is to throw it away. She doesn't want to go. But she knows, half a second later, that she has to go, that she really has no reason not to. She has everything: a wealthy fiancé who buys her jewellery every week, a position at the head of a prestigious company, an enviable wardrobe, a slew of assistants, and an upcoming wedding. She isn't missing anything. She has it all, and logically, she should show it off. She should be proud of this, of who she is, of what she's become.
"Good morning," Chuck murmurs from the doorway of the room, and she starts a little, glancing up - she's usually finished her breakfast by the time he's awake, has usually put on her makeup and chosen a dress and settled in the living room or left the penthouse altogether.
"Good morning," she echoes, mutedly. "You're up early…?"
"I have an early meeting," he explains, bending to kiss the top of her head. "I'm going to order breakfast up, do you want anything?"
"No, no, I ate…" She hands him his invitation. "This came for you."
He glances at it before he takes it from her, ripping into the envelope; Blair winces, wishes that he'd use her letter opener and do it neatly instead.
"Hmm," he murmurs. "Ten year reunion."
"We don't have to go," Blair murmurs. "I know that your schedule's busy, so we don't have to - "
"No, no…of course we can go. You want to, don't you?"
She constructs a careful smile. "Of course I do."
He nods briskly. "So we'll make time." He touches her cheeks, smoothing her skin. "You'll RSVP for both of us?"
Blair nods, too. "Don't I always?"
"You do." He leans down, touching a brief kiss to her lips. "Find something delectable to wear…"
She kisses him back. "Don't I always?" she asks again, arching her eyebrows.
Chuck nods, reaching for his newspaper as he sits next to her. "You do."
It's a clear sign that the conversation is over when he opens his newspaper, and she sighs very softly, looking down at her own invitation.
Nate lifts his head up from his pillow slightly, squinting in the sunlight. He half-smiles, still sleepy. "Are you running out on me?"
Penelope smiles at him over her shoulder. "What would people say if they saw me leaving in last night's clothes?"
"Hmm…" He lets his head fall back against his pillow. "We can get you new clothes…or no clothes…"
"I have a luncheon," she murmurs.
"It's like six in the morning, Pen…luncheons don't happen until lunch."
"I have to get ready for it, Nate, I have a speech," she says, moving closer to the bed so that she can collect her bracelet and earrings from the bedside table.
He reaches out, looping an arm around her waist and tugging her back into bed.
"Nate!" she says in protest, frowning as he pulls her closer. "You'll wrinkle me…"
"I'll wrinkle you?" he repeats on a laugh.
"My dress, I mean."
He stretches up to kiss her little frown. "You're you…" He just kisses her for a moment. "You don't wear the same dress to another even the next day…"
She sighs against his mouth. "You have to pay for my dry-cleaning, Congressman," she murmurs.
"Done," he says easily, laying back against the pillows and tugging her with him.
"We've been breaking this rule a lot lately," she points out. "The no-sleeping-over rule…"
He slides the zipper of her dress undone again, trailing fingers against her spine, and shrugs a little. "I like you in the morning," he says simply, and it's true - he likes her a lot like this, without the perfect makeup, with her hair tied up haphazardly atop her head, with her smile soft and unpracticed and genuine.
"Not the rest of the time?" she asks lightly, eyebrows tilting upward.
"All of the time," he promises, tilting her into the pillows, pressing kisses against her neck. "Just especially in the morning."
"What about the fundraiser for sloths in the rain forest next month?" she asks, smoothing a hand idly over his back. "Do you like me there?"
He smiles against her skin. "Could love you there, yeah…"
"And what about the reunion at Constance?"
He lifts his head, shifting so that he's laying over her, his forearms dropped on either side of her head. "Are we role-playing now? You're being my publicist?"
Penelope pouts. "Are you thinking about Annabeth right now?"
"Are you thinking about my social calendar right now?" he volleys back gently, kissing her in the hopes of distracting her.
"I'm just wondering," she says. "You're going, aren't you?"
"Are you kidding?" he says, breathing out a laugh. "Annabeth would never let me not go."
"Alright," Penelope says. "So you're going and I'm going…"
"So why not go together?" he asks wryly.
One of her eyebrows arcs impressively. "Exactly."
Nate sighs. "It just…it's our high school reunion."
"I'm aware, yes."
"And if we go together it feels like…making a statement."
"Making statements is your job," she murmurs.
He laughs, nudging a quick kiss against her mouth. "Yeah, I guess it is."
"What kind of statement are you so worried about making?" she asks, her tone even and light, but her eyes are solemn - it's a serious question.
So he smiles at her. "You really want me to be your arm candy, don't you?"
She rolls her eyes, swats at his shoulder. "Nate…"
"It's important to you?" he asks more quietly, more seriously.
She shrugs.
And he smiles, putting a kiss to her mouth. "Be my date," he says. "For the reunion."
She smiles against his mouth and then presses into the kiss, pleased but trying to hide it. "Hm, I thought you'd never ask."
Serena glances up from her book when Dan's shadow falls across the pages. "Were you banished?" she asks lightly, looking up at him.
"Yeah," he says on a soft laugh, sitting down on the bench next to her. "They want to play their own game, apparently…" He looks over at her. "They promised no monkey bars without me there."
She smiles a little, letting her book fall closed. "Thank you."
He glances down at her lap, at the book. "Fitzgerald," he murmurs. "Cheerful reading for a cheerful day?" he teases.
"Good book for a good day," she corrects, glancing out into the playground, locating her daughters.
"That's a pretty good philosophy," Dan says. After a moment, his arm slides around her shoulders and she shifts a little to snuggle against his side, tilting her cheek against his shoulder. He touches a kiss to her forehead. "Haven't done this in a while," he murmurs.
"We've been busy," she says softly, which is true. "I missed this."
He holds her a little closer. "Me too."
She sighs after a moment, her eyes tracking Lucy and Trixie as they rush around the playground.
Dan kisses her forehead again. "What is it?"
Nothing is on the tip of her tongue, but when he asks her like that, soft and gentle and just Dan, she can't help but tell him the truth. "I just can't believe…how big they are. Already."
"Hm, I know," he says softly. "They turned out…amazingly."
"Yeah," she whispers a little wistfully. "They're perfect."
Dan's quiet for a long moment and then he asks her, "You want another one?"
"What?" she asks softly, not moving.
He rubs at her arm. "A baby."
"A baby," she echoes.
"We could do it…your job has flexible hours and we have the money and the space and I could take a sabbatical to stay home for a year…"
"You want a baby?" she asks softly. They've never had this conversation before - the twins were conceived in the aftermath of a fight, completely and totally unplanned; seven weeks later Dan found her crying in the bathroom over a pregnancy test and asked her to marry him.
"Do you?" he asks, just as softly. "I thought - I mean, I see the way you look at Jessie and Lou's baby sometimes, and I know the girls are growing up fast and we're still…young."
She shifts then, lifting her head so that she can kiss him, long and slow and deep. "Time flies," she murmurs when they break apart.
He nods, and she can see in his eyes that he understands - that the subject needs to be put to rest for now, so that she can think about it.
"Speaking of time flying," he says, combing his fingers through her hair idly. "I saw those invitations to the reunion."
"Oh?" she asks him softly. She hadn't hidden them but she hadn't spoken about them either, she'd left that decision to him.
"Yeah," he says as she rests her cheek back against his shoulder. "You want to go?"
"Do you? I thought you didn't want to go back to the city."
"I don't, not really," he concedes. "But I know my dad would really love to see the girls, and I thought maybe…you'd want to go."
"It doesn't matter to me, really," she murmurs.
He rubs at her arm. "Do you not want to go…because of your mom?"
She goes still against him. "Why would you think…"
"Just because…the last time we were in Manhattan was for the funeral," he says softly, pressing kisses into his hair, and she knows that he's not trying to upset her.
"No," she says very quietly. "That's not why."
"Let's go, okay?" he murmurs. "See my dad, see Eric, show the girls where we went to school…let's have a happy memory there."
"Okay," she murmurs, turning her face into his shoulder, her breath catching in her throat.
Dan's other arm comes around her, too, giving her a proper hug. He rubs her back in slow, soothing circles. "I love you," he tells her, soft and serious.
She thinks of that bathroom and that incriminating little pregnancy test, the panic thrumming in her chest and the tears drying on her cheeks, thinks of Dan on the floor next to her, thinks of his voice, saying those same words in that same way.
It seems so rare, now - him saying it first.
tbc.
Chapter| two
Rating | pg-13
Characters | Serena. Dan. Blair. Nate. Chuck.
Summary | The year is 2019. Two of New York's most prestigious private schools, Constance Billard and St. Jude's, are hosting a 10 year reunion for the class of 2009.
Notes | I started writing this ages ago and recently reformatted/replotted it to correspond to the events of 5x24. Chuck's presence is therefore regrettably necessary. The title is from Grouplove's TongueTied, which has been in my head a lot re: GG lately.
two.
She's reading when he comes home, legs tucked beneath herself in bed, nose tucked into a book. It's a strangely startling sight; he hasn't seen Blair read in a while.
He's used to her being awake when he gets home. She doesn't sleep much without him, doesn't sleep much at all, and he thinks that she likes to know what time he gets home, likes to look at him, searching for alcohol on his breath or perfume clinging to his coat. They don't talk much when he gets home, but he's used to seeing her awake. She's usually reading a magazine or the newspaper, studying china patterns for the wedding, examining an endless array of photographs of flower arrangements. He is not, however, used to seeing her with her nose buried in a book.
That's what prompts him to ask, "What are you reading?"
Her head snaps up and the book falls closed. "Nothing," she says softly. "Where have you been?"
"Meeting," he sighs, undoing his tie. "You know how it is."
"Yes," Blair murmurs. "Of course."
"You're up late," he tells her.
"So are you," she says quietly, perfectly still in their bed, looking small and strangely fragile in their king-sized bed, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders.
"Suppose so," he nods, taking off his shoes before he moves toward her. "You look beautiful," he says, sitting next to her slowly, sinking into the mattress slightly. "Even at this hour…"
She sets her eyes on his face. "What's so special about this hour?"
"This," he says, leaning in to kiss her.
They are much different than they used to be. He misses the versions of Blair he used to have, Blair dancing in front of him, in his limo with her arms snaking around him slowly; Blair in beautiful dresses, kissing him politely before a party and yanking him into bed afterward by his tie; Blair and the quiet gleam of happiness in her eyes the first time he'd ever told her that he loved her. He misses the Blair that kissed him back fiercely, kissed him like they were in a movie montage, kissed him like she wanted to.
Now, she stays still against him, accepting his kiss and only returning it with the slightest bit of pressure.
"I can't wait to marry you," he tells her as they shift on the bed; she sinks back against the pillows and he stretches out over her. "I love - "
She kisses him purposefully for the first time in days, a shut up kiss if there ever was one.
Dan wakes up in the morning to the sound of little-girl giggles, a sound that makes him smile instinctively as he sits up on the couch. He and Serena had slept there, tangled together, her head on his chest, and left their daughters in their bed for the night. He's alone there now, and when he looks toward the kitchen he sees the twins sitting on stools at the island, Serena leaning her elbows on it across from them, smiling fondly at them as she sips coffee from a mug, his bathrobe on, untied over her pyjamas.
"Can we go to the park?" Trixie asks eagerly around a mouthful of Cheerios. "When Daddy wakes up?"
"Daddy's awake," Dan tells her lightly as he gets up and moves toward them, dropping kisses on each of his daughter's heads.
Trixie beams. "Let's go the park!"
"You have to finish your breakfast first, honey," he tells her gently, smoothing her tangled hair. "Hey," he murmurs then, glancing over at Serena.
"Hey," she replies softly, and they lean across the island to kiss each other.
"Ew," Trixie says, and Lucy giggles.
"We're going to the park," Serena says lightly. "Apparently."
Dan nods easily, stealing her mug of coffee and taking a sip. He winces as he swallows; he always manages to forget that she fills her coffee with more sugar than he can handle. "That's good…I like the park."
"I'm done," Lucy announces, setting her spoon down in her bowl neatly and looking up at them eagerly.
"Alright, baby," Serena tells her gently. "You can go get dressed…don't forget socks."
"Me too," Trixie says eagerly, dropping her spoon on the countertop and slipping off of her chair, rushing away.
Serena watches them run off, a little smile on her lips, before she glances back at Dan. "There's more coffee in the pot, babe," she tells him softly, easily.
"Thanks," he says, looping an arm loosely around her waist as he moves by her, pulling her into a soft, brief kiss.
She twines her arms around his neck, keeping him close. "You didn't tell me how your conference was…"
"We were kind of busy last night," he says softly, giving her a small smile.
She smiles back, says, "Tell me now."
"It was…" He shrugs. "Conference-y." He gives her a quick squeeze before he lets her go, moving to get a mug so he can pour himself some coffee. "You should get dressed…they'll want to go to the park in about five minutes."
"They can wait," she says quietly, and he can feel the weight of her gaze on his face.
He smiles over at her, searching her eyes for a beat. "They won't, though," he laughs lightly. "They get that from you."
She makes a face at him, but it only lasts for a moment before she sobers again. "I just - "
He takes a long drink of coffee. "You just what?"
"Nothing," she says quietly.
Dan sighs. "Serena, don't do that."
"I'm not doing anything," she murmurs. "You are."
He inhales and exhales, slow and measured. "Honey, I just got back," he says calmly. "Let's not fight," he adds, lamely. It's not so much that they fight, though; it's more that Dan fights while Serena stays quiet, her words soft when she says them and her eyes dark, unreadable. They haven't fought in years, not the way they used to, not since they were married.
Serena's teeth dig into her bottom lip.
And he sighs again. "What did I do?"
"You didn't do anything, Dan," she says quietly, moving past him to set her mug in the sink. "You're just…not talking to me."
He frowns. "I'm talking to you right now."
"You know what I mean," she says quietly. "I just asked you how your conference went and you won't even tell me."
"Why would I bore you by talking about a lit conference?"
"Bore me?" she echoes, a little scoff following the words. "Say what you really mean."
"Okay, fine," he huffs. "Tell me what I really mean to say, because I have no idea."
"You mean that I won't get it," she says, tying his robe closed over her pyjamas. "That I can't understand whatever you talked about at your conference, so why bother."
"That - I never said that, Serena."
"No," she says softly, "Exactly. You never say anything."
"I'm…sorry. I'll tell you all the boring details, if you want."
"No, it's…never mind," she murmurs. "You're right, we should get dressed."
"Serena," he sighs.
"You're right, Dan," she says firmly, and then she's smiling at him, this sunny thing that doesn't reach her eyes. "They'll want to go right away."
"Yeah," he says quietly, watching her move down the hall. "I guess they will."
Blair wakes up first in the morning; she wakes up first every morning. She slips out of bed the way she always does, lifting the arm Chuck has slung heavily over her middle with careful fingers and rolling out from underneath it, getting off of the bed without jostling the mattress.
She goes into the kitchen and begins her breakfast routine: she cuts a grapefruit precisely in half and sets one half of it on a plate along with five green grapes, toasts a single piece of bread, spreads a small amount of butter on it, cuts it into fourths and tosses three of them away, setting the remaining one on a plate. She takes a tall glass from the cupboard and fills it halfway with skim milk. Then she carries both the plate and the glass into the dining room and sits down at the table.
It takes her almost an hour to eat her small feel, nibbling and sipping between sending e-mails to the branches of Waldorf designs in Europe and corresponding with her wedding planner.
By the time she gets to the morning mail, she has two grapes and a few sips of milk left. There are the usual things: Chuck's preferred newspaper, her preferred newspaper, RSVPs to the wedding. Two of the envelopes look unlike the other; they're not the black-and-white patterned RSVP envelopes; instead, they are an off-white, addressed individually to Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf rather than to Chuck & Blair like the wedding RSVP envelopes are.
She sets the one addressed to Chuck aside and then opens her own, sliding her letter opener neatly into the seam of the envelope.
Dear Blair, it begins, and goes on to invite her to the ten-year reunion of the graduating class of 2009 from Constance Billard and St. Jude's schools.
She stares at it, unblinking. Her immediate instinct is to throw it away. She doesn't want to go. But she knows, half a second later, that she has to go, that she really has no reason not to. She has everything: a wealthy fiancé who buys her jewellery every week, a position at the head of a prestigious company, an enviable wardrobe, a slew of assistants, and an upcoming wedding. She isn't missing anything. She has it all, and logically, she should show it off. She should be proud of this, of who she is, of what she's become.
"Good morning," Chuck murmurs from the doorway of the room, and she starts a little, glancing up - she's usually finished her breakfast by the time he's awake, has usually put on her makeup and chosen a dress and settled in the living room or left the penthouse altogether.
"Good morning," she echoes, mutedly. "You're up early…?"
"I have an early meeting," he explains, bending to kiss the top of her head. "I'm going to order breakfast up, do you want anything?"
"No, no, I ate…" She hands him his invitation. "This came for you."
He glances at it before he takes it from her, ripping into the envelope; Blair winces, wishes that he'd use her letter opener and do it neatly instead.
"Hmm," he murmurs. "Ten year reunion."
"We don't have to go," Blair murmurs. "I know that your schedule's busy, so we don't have to - "
"No, no…of course we can go. You want to, don't you?"
She constructs a careful smile. "Of course I do."
He nods briskly. "So we'll make time." He touches her cheeks, smoothing her skin. "You'll RSVP for both of us?"
Blair nods, too. "Don't I always?"
"You do." He leans down, touching a brief kiss to her lips. "Find something delectable to wear…"
She kisses him back. "Don't I always?" she asks again, arching her eyebrows.
Chuck nods, reaching for his newspaper as he sits next to her. "You do."
It's a clear sign that the conversation is over when he opens his newspaper, and she sighs very softly, looking down at her own invitation.
Nate lifts his head up from his pillow slightly, squinting in the sunlight. He half-smiles, still sleepy. "Are you running out on me?"
Penelope smiles at him over her shoulder. "What would people say if they saw me leaving in last night's clothes?"
"Hmm…" He lets his head fall back against his pillow. "We can get you new clothes…or no clothes…"
"I have a luncheon," she murmurs.
"It's like six in the morning, Pen…luncheons don't happen until lunch."
"I have to get ready for it, Nate, I have a speech," she says, moving closer to the bed so that she can collect her bracelet and earrings from the bedside table.
He reaches out, looping an arm around her waist and tugging her back into bed.
"Nate!" she says in protest, frowning as he pulls her closer. "You'll wrinkle me…"
"I'll wrinkle you?" he repeats on a laugh.
"My dress, I mean."
He stretches up to kiss her little frown. "You're you…" He just kisses her for a moment. "You don't wear the same dress to another even the next day…"
She sighs against his mouth. "You have to pay for my dry-cleaning, Congressman," she murmurs.
"Done," he says easily, laying back against the pillows and tugging her with him.
"We've been breaking this rule a lot lately," she points out. "The no-sleeping-over rule…"
He slides the zipper of her dress undone again, trailing fingers against her spine, and shrugs a little. "I like you in the morning," he says simply, and it's true - he likes her a lot like this, without the perfect makeup, with her hair tied up haphazardly atop her head, with her smile soft and unpracticed and genuine.
"Not the rest of the time?" she asks lightly, eyebrows tilting upward.
"All of the time," he promises, tilting her into the pillows, pressing kisses against her neck. "Just especially in the morning."
"What about the fundraiser for sloths in the rain forest next month?" she asks, smoothing a hand idly over his back. "Do you like me there?"
He smiles against her skin. "Could love you there, yeah…"
"And what about the reunion at Constance?"
He lifts his head, shifting so that he's laying over her, his forearms dropped on either side of her head. "Are we role-playing now? You're being my publicist?"
Penelope pouts. "Are you thinking about Annabeth right now?"
"Are you thinking about my social calendar right now?" he volleys back gently, kissing her in the hopes of distracting her.
"I'm just wondering," she says. "You're going, aren't you?"
"Are you kidding?" he says, breathing out a laugh. "Annabeth would never let me not go."
"Alright," Penelope says. "So you're going and I'm going…"
"So why not go together?" he asks wryly.
One of her eyebrows arcs impressively. "Exactly."
Nate sighs. "It just…it's our high school reunion."
"I'm aware, yes."
"And if we go together it feels like…making a statement."
"Making statements is your job," she murmurs.
He laughs, nudging a quick kiss against her mouth. "Yeah, I guess it is."
"What kind of statement are you so worried about making?" she asks, her tone even and light, but her eyes are solemn - it's a serious question.
So he smiles at her. "You really want me to be your arm candy, don't you?"
She rolls her eyes, swats at his shoulder. "Nate…"
"It's important to you?" he asks more quietly, more seriously.
She shrugs.
And he smiles, putting a kiss to her mouth. "Be my date," he says. "For the reunion."
She smiles against his mouth and then presses into the kiss, pleased but trying to hide it. "Hm, I thought you'd never ask."
Serena glances up from her book when Dan's shadow falls across the pages. "Were you banished?" she asks lightly, looking up at him.
"Yeah," he says on a soft laugh, sitting down on the bench next to her. "They want to play their own game, apparently…" He looks over at her. "They promised no monkey bars without me there."
She smiles a little, letting her book fall closed. "Thank you."
He glances down at her lap, at the book. "Fitzgerald," he murmurs. "Cheerful reading for a cheerful day?" he teases.
"Good book for a good day," she corrects, glancing out into the playground, locating her daughters.
"That's a pretty good philosophy," Dan says. After a moment, his arm slides around her shoulders and she shifts a little to snuggle against his side, tilting her cheek against his shoulder. He touches a kiss to her forehead. "Haven't done this in a while," he murmurs.
"We've been busy," she says softly, which is true. "I missed this."
He holds her a little closer. "Me too."
She sighs after a moment, her eyes tracking Lucy and Trixie as they rush around the playground.
Dan kisses her forehead again. "What is it?"
Nothing is on the tip of her tongue, but when he asks her like that, soft and gentle and just Dan, she can't help but tell him the truth. "I just can't believe…how big they are. Already."
"Hm, I know," he says softly. "They turned out…amazingly."
"Yeah," she whispers a little wistfully. "They're perfect."
Dan's quiet for a long moment and then he asks her, "You want another one?"
"What?" she asks softly, not moving.
He rubs at her arm. "A baby."
"A baby," she echoes.
"We could do it…your job has flexible hours and we have the money and the space and I could take a sabbatical to stay home for a year…"
"You want a baby?" she asks softly. They've never had this conversation before - the twins were conceived in the aftermath of a fight, completely and totally unplanned; seven weeks later Dan found her crying in the bathroom over a pregnancy test and asked her to marry him.
"Do you?" he asks, just as softly. "I thought - I mean, I see the way you look at Jessie and Lou's baby sometimes, and I know the girls are growing up fast and we're still…young."
She shifts then, lifting her head so that she can kiss him, long and slow and deep. "Time flies," she murmurs when they break apart.
He nods, and she can see in his eyes that he understands - that the subject needs to be put to rest for now, so that she can think about it.
"Speaking of time flying," he says, combing his fingers through her hair idly. "I saw those invitations to the reunion."
"Oh?" she asks him softly. She hadn't hidden them but she hadn't spoken about them either, she'd left that decision to him.
"Yeah," he says as she rests her cheek back against his shoulder. "You want to go?"
"Do you? I thought you didn't want to go back to the city."
"I don't, not really," he concedes. "But I know my dad would really love to see the girls, and I thought maybe…you'd want to go."
"It doesn't matter to me, really," she murmurs.
He rubs at her arm. "Do you not want to go…because of your mom?"
She goes still against him. "Why would you think…"
"Just because…the last time we were in Manhattan was for the funeral," he says softly, pressing kisses into his hair, and she knows that he's not trying to upset her.
"No," she says very quietly. "That's not why."
"Let's go, okay?" he murmurs. "See my dad, see Eric, show the girls where we went to school…let's have a happy memory there."
"Okay," she murmurs, turning her face into his shoulder, her breath catching in her throat.
Dan's other arm comes around her, too, giving her a proper hug. He rubs her back in slow, soothing circles. "I love you," he tells her, soft and serious.
She thinks of that bathroom and that incriminating little pregnancy test, the panic thrumming in her chest and the tears drying on her cheeks, thinks of Dan on the floor next to her, thinks of his voice, saying those same words in that same way.
It seems so rare, now - him saying it first.
tbc.