you come crashing in, like the realest thing
Title: you come crashing in, like the realest thing
Characters: Serena van der Woodsen/Tripp Vanderbilt
Rating/Word Count: PG-13/2968
Excerpt: Dark corners and dirty mistress; so this is what her life has come to. Tripp, Serena, and all the trappings of infidelity.
It's been a long night in New York City
It's been a long time since 22
I don't remember you looking any better
But then again I don't remember you
-John Mayer, 'Who Says'
Tripp listens to her whole story, finishes his (third) martini, opens his mouth as if he wanted to say something.
"What?" she says as she bites her lower lip like she always does when she's had too much to drink.
"I love Nate, but he's not the brightest guy when it comes to girls."
"Yeah, I know," she says and it slips between her teeth and comes out on a sigh. Tripp thinks if he listens harder he could understand what it means.
It's three in the morning and he doesn't know where Maureen is (doesn't really care, at all actually) and the low lighting of the bar highlights Serena's features in an almost poetic way and Louis Armstrong is drifting through the speakers.
He wonders if he's the first one to get lost in the way her fingers move around the edge of her glass or how she licks her lips after every sip.
Serena sucks on an olive, and Tripp watches.
The bathroom stall is much sturdier than she anticipated, and when he slams her against the wall she cringes a little at the cold metal touching the nape of her neck.
His fingers dip into her folds, massaging and probing until her eyes roll back into her head and she briefly wonders if that's what Nate's fingers would feel like too.
Coherent thought leaves soon after, and a bright white light builds and builds and builds behind her eyes until-
If she screams Nate's name instead, Tripp doesn't do anything about it.
"We should probably get you home," he murmurs between her breasts and she catches her breath before responding.
"Whatever you say, Congressman."
He laughs and she thinks she just might feel it everywhere.
"This is a terrible idea."
Serena ignores the statement, just pulls him closer and moves her hands south.
When he comes, he whispers Serena into the hollow of her collarbone and she's not sure if she should be proud or ashamed.
Blair opens her door to find Serena, Louis Vuitton heels in her hand and the most pathetic expression she's ever seen on her face.
"I slept with Tripp."
Blair wants to send her away, call her a whore, alert the media but somehow bad decisions have always been endearing on Serena rather than alarming so she takes her by the hand and sits her down.
"You know this is one of the most idiotic things you've ever done?"
Serena just nods, and Blair nods back.
"Listen, B, I'm really-"
"Oh save it. Just promise me it won't happen ever again."
"It won't, I promise." And the tears rolling down her eyes are more sincere than the words themselves.
"I'm going to go make sure any discriminating tapes are destroyed before Chuck finds it."
Blair's words are harsh but her tone is comforting and when Serena gives her a hug Blair even relaxes into it for about thirty seconds.
Plus it's not entirely Serena's fault. It's not like she had Blair's guidance. In fact, now that B thinks about it, it's probably just another desperate cry for attention and help.
Yes, that must be it, Blair thinks before straightening her blouse and walking downstairs.
Two hours later, Blair returns to find Serena curled up on the couch.
"Well, how was it? Tripp Vanderbilt, can't say I haven't thought about that one."
"You know Jason Stackhouse? How we'd practically orgasm just by looking at those insane sex scenes?"
Blair nods, nibbles on the bottom of her lip and her cheeks flush red with the memory of the show.
"It's like that, minus the really rough stuff."
Serena's obviously proud of herself, practically gloating really, and Blair tosses a pillow at her head and rolls her eyes.
There's a giggling fit involved, and then Serena digs out the first season of True Blood and they watch as Jason Stackhouse as he fucks anything that moves on the screen.
Every once in a while, Serena will look at Blair out of the corner of her eye. She may have lost some things (her integrity, morals) but she's gained back Blair.
It's a fair trade.
The next morning, Serena wakes up with a crick in her neck and Blair's legs tangled up in her own.
"You know sis, if you invite me next time things could get a lot more…interesting."
"Shut up, Chuck."
Blair stirs, probably because the scent of Chuck Bass woke her up, and Serena checks her phone while Blair goes to brush her teeth (though with the way Chuck followed her into the bathroom Serena suspects it's about to get NC-17)
Still need a job?
The text stares back at her like a message from God and Serena slips out the front door to change before she hears moans leak out from under the door.
Tripp closes the door when she walks in for the interview and eyes her appreciatively.
She tugs at the hem of her skirt, for once self-conscious about the short length and wonders if she should maybe try wearing pants every once in a while.
He offers her a seat, and when he immediately starts talking about the demands of a media representative, she breathes a sigh of relief.
Still, when he shakes her hand at the end of it, tells her to start tomorrow at eight o'clock, Serena holds on a little too long.
"Do you, wanna go get some lunch maybe? Talk about your policies on…women in the workplace?"
He laughs, glint in his eye, and responds without missing a beat.
"I love a woman on top."
They both laugh at the cheesiness, but before Serena tells him he sounds like Chuck Tripp flinches and says it for her.
"Too much Chuck Bass, right?"
"Yes, definitely."
They don't make it to lunch.
She gets her own apartment; a loft in Tribeca that's only helpful because it's far away from the things that whisper about her in the night, noon, and morning.
She has big windows and a red bedroom and chipped coffee mugs.
There's an awesome record set-up in the corner that Rufus donated and she's had John Mayer's 'Battle Studies' playing since she moved in
(she slept with him once, when she was still underage, and he texted her that 'Half of My Heart' was all her).
The best part of her new apartment, though?
The way it is totally and completely hers. It makes fucking on the kitchen floor a lot easier, with no Dorota or Eric or Chuck or Rufus or…(now that she thinks about it who hasn't she lived with?) to worry about.
Tripp agrees somewhere in between the second and fifth time.
It's…fun.
And she knows that's a word she shouldn't be using, because 'it' has the potential to destroy a marriage, a career, and the morale of her city and the whole situation is very serious.
But he accidentally brushes his hand against her tights or personally reads her notes and-
There are quickies in bathrooms, soiled seats in the back of cars, hotel rooms paid with anyone's credit card but his.
Emotions bleed into certain moments around the edges but most of the time she's too preoccupied with Erik's issues, and Blair's meltdowns, and all the problems of her little tiny universe that she doesn't have enough time to worry about her own well-being.
But, but sometimes he pulls her into a hotel room and makes love to her long and sweet and perfect for entire afternoons when the staff thinks he's with Maureen and Maureen thinks he's with the staff.
Nate shows up at her apartment one morning with the promise of greasy hash browns and fried eggs and pancakes.
Serena declares him a saint, and murmurs under her breath that she's getting sick of waffles so no Humphrey's can hear the blasphemous statement.
When they stop in front of a Denny's sign, Serena gasps and laughs and hugs Nate tightly, exclamations of "God this is just what I need!" falling from her lips.
They talk and talk and talk, because with them it's always been easy and she feels his gaze as she licks the whipped cream from her chocolate chip pancakes off her face.
But the moment passes, as they always have, and soon they end up talking about work.
"And then the professor said that 'There are other ways to get an A' before leaning in a little too close for comfort."
They laugh, because this always seems to happen to Nate.
"Tripp says that you've been working really hard."
"Really? That's weird, I hardly ever see him."
"You must be making an impression then."
Serena stops with a forkful of eggs halfway to her mouth and looks at Nate, trying to understand if there's any hidden meaning lurking behind his words.
But he's Nate, so he smiles and teases her for spacing out and she breathes a sigh of relief before smiling flirtatiously.
Some things never change.
Serena likes her coffee in the morning, with three sugars and two creams, almost too sweet to bear.
To be fair, Tripp will never know that.
She goes out a date once, with a nice financier type that Blair set her up with.
Avery Brooks Charles, II.
"So, ABC?"
He grins, and laughs, mentions it was helpful when he was learning to read and write.
The date goes almost perfect, and they share a slice of chocolate cake and a kiss before he gentlemanly bids goodbye when she's in her
apartment.
She leans her back against the door and slides down slowly, takes off her shoes, scrolls through her phone.
Missed calls from Blair who's expecting a play by play and Tripp who's wondering where she is.
She calls Blair, tells her the date was horrible, and then calls Tripp, tells him she's home and alone now, if he's interested.
ABC never really stood a chance.
Tripp tells Maureen in a kind, but firm voice that they are not moving to DC until the spring.
When Maureen complains, consistently bringing up that it's important to be there for the Christmas, and think of all the parties they'll miss and acquaintances they won't meet.
"I'd like to spend this Christmas with the family."
She doesn't fight any more after that, and some part of him wishes she would.
I fell into a burning ring of fire, Johnny Cash croons over the speakers and Tripp ignores the way Serena's hair ignites under the setting sun leaking in through the windows.
Chuck corners Serena while Blair is changing for their dinner and Serena ignores the trapped, panicked feeling rising up her throat.
The sound his velvet loafers padding across the plush rug shouldn't be intimidating, but Serena feels it all the same. Chuck has always scared her at least a little bit, even when he's not scaring her at all.
She thinks it might be all the secrets he keeps locks away behind his eyes.
"So, how's Tripp?"
It's nonchalant enough, Serena and Tripp are family friends after all, but it's the little things that tip her off.
His knuckles grip his glass of scotch a little too hard, faintly turning white, and he doesn't ask it like a question at all.
"What? Having your private investigator tail me so I don't do anything that may be bad for business?"
She spits out the words, all fury and sequins and blonde hair, only to be made a fool of moments later when Chuck responds.
"No, Serena, I'm trying to protect you. Of course, had I known you were quite this self-destructive I might've made it a little more obvious…"
"Oh please, you're turning into Bart!"
"He's married Serena! And a Congressman for Christ's sake. What, does he give you gifts to keep you silent? Have you pay for the hotel rooms so they can't be traced back to him? I have to say I'm surprised, I think motels are status quo for these kinds of rendezvous."
"I'm not some kind of whore, Chuck!"
"Then stop acting like one!"
She hears the sound before she realizes that she's done it, the stinging of her hand and the red print marring his cheek.
Blair comes out, dressed to perfection in a knee-length champagne silk Jason Wu and chocolate hair curling around her collarbone; Serena wonders how Blair got her life so right when her own has always been such a disaster.
Chuck rubs a hand across his face before walking over to Blair and gently placing a hand at the small of her back.
"Serena has a last minute commitment and will no longer be able to join us."
He walks past her without looking back and Blair's questioning gaze becomes too much to bear.
She's left alone, staring at the floor of her brother's apartment with not one savior in sight.
Breath fogs up her windows and she doodles while wearing Tripp's dress shirt and nursing a cup of hot cocoa.
"What are you drawing over there?"
He walks out bearing blankets; she quickly breathes again.
Hearts disappear.
It's their six-month anniversary.
He sends a bouquet of calla lilies affectionately signed Anderson Cooper with an 8 o'clock? in the corner of the heavy crème card because she admitted to having a thing for his cousin once.
It makes her stop dead in her tracks as she rounds the corner towards her cubicle, Penelope next door keeps peering over the divider to get a better look at the glorious display of flora and Serena giggles a bit too giddily before she sits down.
Tripp walks past, followed by his usual entourage and doesn't make eye contact.
Serena gives the flowers to Penelope.
The scent was giving her a headache, is all.
She knocks on his office door at midnight, tilts her head in and he feels better already.
"You look so beautiful today," he says as he pulls her close and kisses her bare shoulder, "Like your radiating almost." He thinks she could save him, his own personal sun he's rotating around and it fits.
He smiles against her lips.
"I'm pregnant."
He waits for the punchline, checks his watch to make sure it isn't April Fools Day.
One doesn't come, and it's still March.
"You have to get rid of it."
"I don't think I can."
She pulls him close(r), puts his hand on her stomach and-
"Get out, Serena."
She storms out and he flinches when the door slams shut, flexing his palm and trying to forget the feel of her stomach underneath it.
She comes clean to Blair and her mother, which means she's really coming clean to Chuck and Erik and Rufus and Dan and Jenny and Nate. (oh god oh god oh god, Nate) and ignores the stares of pity and disappointment and knowing and sympathy because it's easier.
Lilly speaks first, calmly mentions a facility that would more than willing to accept her for six months. Blair flinches at the word facility, and hesitates before she says it, but eventually agrees with Lilly.
Serena just nods her head and agrees, too exhausted and heavy with a child she knows she can't keep to fight.
Blair squeezes her hand and tells her she'll visit all the time.
Serena wonders if it'll be enough.
Their child comes into the world hard and fast and painful.
Serena screams through all fifteen hours, Blair holding her hand tight. She pushes harder and harder, screams I can't do it, it hurts, I want it out, I'm not strong enough, until the child tears its way into the world and her voice is hoarse.
Tripp smiles for the cameras with Maureen at his side just a couple miles but worlds away, writing a check for Maureen's favorite charity, dressed up in a custom Armani.
The adoptive parents take her (Lila Grace, Serena wanted, but they name her Sarah Elizabeth) away and Serena wonders when she turned into her mother.
The baby weight comes off miraculously fast, and when she returns back to the city, her city, everyone congratulates her on successfully completing her rehabilitation.
She murmurs thank you politely, drinks water at (most) public appearances, works at Bass Industries, doesn't see Tripp, and waits for her scandal to break.
It doesn't.
Nate's going to UCLA for law school, choosing to go across the country because he's sick of all the same people and all the same disappointments so Serena and Blair throw him a going away party.
It's perfect, on the top of Chuck's newest hotel, with lights twinkling and Japanese lanterns and an open bar.
Everyone is clothed in sundresses and button downs, the humidity causing sheens of perspiration on skin and making the beer bottles sweat.
She's too busy hostessing to notice the entrance of a certain Congressman, Maureen at his side with a perfectly rounded stomach.
When she turns around, the sight knocks all the breath out of her.
Blair is over before she remembers to breathe again, a comforting hand rubbing circles on her back accompanied by insults under her breath.
"I can handle this, if you want me to."
"Yeah, because that wouldn't be weird."
Blair tilts her head to the side, realizes sending away Nate's cousin might raise more questions than anyone would like and watches her best friend straighten her shoulders and walk over to say hello.
She only notices the unsteadiness while Serena's walking away on her Kate Spade espadrilles because she's looking for it; Chuck snakes his arm around her waist kisses her temple and she closes her eyes.
"Serena, lovely to see you."
Zipper undone, hand tangled in hair, mouth planting kisses all the way down-
"Tripp, always a pleasure."
Characters: Serena van der Woodsen/Tripp Vanderbilt
Rating/Word Count: PG-13/2968
Excerpt: Dark corners and dirty mistress; so this is what her life has come to. Tripp, Serena, and all the trappings of infidelity.
It's been a long night in New York City
It's been a long time since 22
I don't remember you looking any better
But then again I don't remember you
-John Mayer, 'Who Says'
Tripp listens to her whole story, finishes his (third) martini, opens his mouth as if he wanted to say something.
"What?" she says as she bites her lower lip like she always does when she's had too much to drink.
"I love Nate, but he's not the brightest guy when it comes to girls."
"Yeah, I know," she says and it slips between her teeth and comes out on a sigh. Tripp thinks if he listens harder he could understand what it means.
It's three in the morning and he doesn't know where Maureen is (doesn't really care, at all actually) and the low lighting of the bar highlights Serena's features in an almost poetic way and Louis Armstrong is drifting through the speakers.
He wonders if he's the first one to get lost in the way her fingers move around the edge of her glass or how she licks her lips after every sip.
Serena sucks on an olive, and Tripp watches.
The bathroom stall is much sturdier than she anticipated, and when he slams her against the wall she cringes a little at the cold metal touching the nape of her neck.
His fingers dip into her folds, massaging and probing until her eyes roll back into her head and she briefly wonders if that's what Nate's fingers would feel like too.
Coherent thought leaves soon after, and a bright white light builds and builds and builds behind her eyes until-
If she screams Nate's name instead, Tripp doesn't do anything about it.
"We should probably get you home," he murmurs between her breasts and she catches her breath before responding.
"Whatever you say, Congressman."
He laughs and she thinks she just might feel it everywhere.
"This is a terrible idea."
Serena ignores the statement, just pulls him closer and moves her hands south.
When he comes, he whispers Serena into the hollow of her collarbone and she's not sure if she should be proud or ashamed.
Blair opens her door to find Serena, Louis Vuitton heels in her hand and the most pathetic expression she's ever seen on her face.
"I slept with Tripp."
Blair wants to send her away, call her a whore, alert the media but somehow bad decisions have always been endearing on Serena rather than alarming so she takes her by the hand and sits her down.
"You know this is one of the most idiotic things you've ever done?"
Serena just nods, and Blair nods back.
"Listen, B, I'm really-"
"Oh save it. Just promise me it won't happen ever again."
"It won't, I promise." And the tears rolling down her eyes are more sincere than the words themselves.
"I'm going to go make sure any discriminating tapes are destroyed before Chuck finds it."
Blair's words are harsh but her tone is comforting and when Serena gives her a hug Blair even relaxes into it for about thirty seconds.
Plus it's not entirely Serena's fault. It's not like she had Blair's guidance. In fact, now that B thinks about it, it's probably just another desperate cry for attention and help.
Yes, that must be it, Blair thinks before straightening her blouse and walking downstairs.
Two hours later, Blair returns to find Serena curled up on the couch.
"Well, how was it? Tripp Vanderbilt, can't say I haven't thought about that one."
"You know Jason Stackhouse? How we'd practically orgasm just by looking at those insane sex scenes?"
Blair nods, nibbles on the bottom of her lip and her cheeks flush red with the memory of the show.
"It's like that, minus the really rough stuff."
Serena's obviously proud of herself, practically gloating really, and Blair tosses a pillow at her head and rolls her eyes.
There's a giggling fit involved, and then Serena digs out the first season of True Blood and they watch as Jason Stackhouse as he fucks anything that moves on the screen.
Every once in a while, Serena will look at Blair out of the corner of her eye. She may have lost some things (her integrity, morals) but she's gained back Blair.
It's a fair trade.
The next morning, Serena wakes up with a crick in her neck and Blair's legs tangled up in her own.
"You know sis, if you invite me next time things could get a lot more…interesting."
"Shut up, Chuck."
Blair stirs, probably because the scent of Chuck Bass woke her up, and Serena checks her phone while Blair goes to brush her teeth (though with the way Chuck followed her into the bathroom Serena suspects it's about to get NC-17)
Still need a job?
The text stares back at her like a message from God and Serena slips out the front door to change before she hears moans leak out from under the door.
Tripp closes the door when she walks in for the interview and eyes her appreciatively.
She tugs at the hem of her skirt, for once self-conscious about the short length and wonders if she should maybe try wearing pants every once in a while.
He offers her a seat, and when he immediately starts talking about the demands of a media representative, she breathes a sigh of relief.
Still, when he shakes her hand at the end of it, tells her to start tomorrow at eight o'clock, Serena holds on a little too long.
"Do you, wanna go get some lunch maybe? Talk about your policies on…women in the workplace?"
He laughs, glint in his eye, and responds without missing a beat.
"I love a woman on top."
They both laugh at the cheesiness, but before Serena tells him he sounds like Chuck Tripp flinches and says it for her.
"Too much Chuck Bass, right?"
"Yes, definitely."
They don't make it to lunch.
She gets her own apartment; a loft in Tribeca that's only helpful because it's far away from the things that whisper about her in the night, noon, and morning.
She has big windows and a red bedroom and chipped coffee mugs.
There's an awesome record set-up in the corner that Rufus donated and she's had John Mayer's 'Battle Studies' playing since she moved in
(she slept with him once, when she was still underage, and he texted her that 'Half of My Heart' was all her).
The best part of her new apartment, though?
The way it is totally and completely hers. It makes fucking on the kitchen floor a lot easier, with no Dorota or Eric or Chuck or Rufus or…(now that she thinks about it who hasn't she lived with?) to worry about.
Tripp agrees somewhere in between the second and fifth time.
It's…fun.
And she knows that's a word she shouldn't be using, because 'it' has the potential to destroy a marriage, a career, and the morale of her city and the whole situation is very serious.
But he accidentally brushes his hand against her tights or personally reads her notes and-
There are quickies in bathrooms, soiled seats in the back of cars, hotel rooms paid with anyone's credit card but his.
Emotions bleed into certain moments around the edges but most of the time she's too preoccupied with Erik's issues, and Blair's meltdowns, and all the problems of her little tiny universe that she doesn't have enough time to worry about her own well-being.
But, but sometimes he pulls her into a hotel room and makes love to her long and sweet and perfect for entire afternoons when the staff thinks he's with Maureen and Maureen thinks he's with the staff.
Nate shows up at her apartment one morning with the promise of greasy hash browns and fried eggs and pancakes.
Serena declares him a saint, and murmurs under her breath that she's getting sick of waffles so no Humphrey's can hear the blasphemous statement.
When they stop in front of a Denny's sign, Serena gasps and laughs and hugs Nate tightly, exclamations of "God this is just what I need!" falling from her lips.
They talk and talk and talk, because with them it's always been easy and she feels his gaze as she licks the whipped cream from her chocolate chip pancakes off her face.
But the moment passes, as they always have, and soon they end up talking about work.
"And then the professor said that 'There are other ways to get an A' before leaning in a little too close for comfort."
They laugh, because this always seems to happen to Nate.
"Tripp says that you've been working really hard."
"Really? That's weird, I hardly ever see him."
"You must be making an impression then."
Serena stops with a forkful of eggs halfway to her mouth and looks at Nate, trying to understand if there's any hidden meaning lurking behind his words.
But he's Nate, so he smiles and teases her for spacing out and she breathes a sigh of relief before smiling flirtatiously.
Some things never change.
Serena likes her coffee in the morning, with three sugars and two creams, almost too sweet to bear.
To be fair, Tripp will never know that.
She goes out a date once, with a nice financier type that Blair set her up with.
Avery Brooks Charles, II.
"So, ABC?"
He grins, and laughs, mentions it was helpful when he was learning to read and write.
The date goes almost perfect, and they share a slice of chocolate cake and a kiss before he gentlemanly bids goodbye when she's in her
apartment.
She leans her back against the door and slides down slowly, takes off her shoes, scrolls through her phone.
Missed calls from Blair who's expecting a play by play and Tripp who's wondering where she is.
She calls Blair, tells her the date was horrible, and then calls Tripp, tells him she's home and alone now, if he's interested.
ABC never really stood a chance.
Tripp tells Maureen in a kind, but firm voice that they are not moving to DC until the spring.
When Maureen complains, consistently bringing up that it's important to be there for the Christmas, and think of all the parties they'll miss and acquaintances they won't meet.
"I'd like to spend this Christmas with the family."
She doesn't fight any more after that, and some part of him wishes she would.
I fell into a burning ring of fire, Johnny Cash croons over the speakers and Tripp ignores the way Serena's hair ignites under the setting sun leaking in through the windows.
Chuck corners Serena while Blair is changing for their dinner and Serena ignores the trapped, panicked feeling rising up her throat.
The sound his velvet loafers padding across the plush rug shouldn't be intimidating, but Serena feels it all the same. Chuck has always scared her at least a little bit, even when he's not scaring her at all.
She thinks it might be all the secrets he keeps locks away behind his eyes.
"So, how's Tripp?"
It's nonchalant enough, Serena and Tripp are family friends after all, but it's the little things that tip her off.
His knuckles grip his glass of scotch a little too hard, faintly turning white, and he doesn't ask it like a question at all.
"What? Having your private investigator tail me so I don't do anything that may be bad for business?"
She spits out the words, all fury and sequins and blonde hair, only to be made a fool of moments later when Chuck responds.
"No, Serena, I'm trying to protect you. Of course, had I known you were quite this self-destructive I might've made it a little more obvious…"
"Oh please, you're turning into Bart!"
"He's married Serena! And a Congressman for Christ's sake. What, does he give you gifts to keep you silent? Have you pay for the hotel rooms so they can't be traced back to him? I have to say I'm surprised, I think motels are status quo for these kinds of rendezvous."
"I'm not some kind of whore, Chuck!"
"Then stop acting like one!"
She hears the sound before she realizes that she's done it, the stinging of her hand and the red print marring his cheek.
Blair comes out, dressed to perfection in a knee-length champagne silk Jason Wu and chocolate hair curling around her collarbone; Serena wonders how Blair got her life so right when her own has always been such a disaster.
Chuck rubs a hand across his face before walking over to Blair and gently placing a hand at the small of her back.
"Serena has a last minute commitment and will no longer be able to join us."
He walks past her without looking back and Blair's questioning gaze becomes too much to bear.
She's left alone, staring at the floor of her brother's apartment with not one savior in sight.
Breath fogs up her windows and she doodles while wearing Tripp's dress shirt and nursing a cup of hot cocoa.
"What are you drawing over there?"
He walks out bearing blankets; she quickly breathes again.
Hearts disappear.
It's their six-month anniversary.
He sends a bouquet of calla lilies affectionately signed Anderson Cooper with an 8 o'clock? in the corner of the heavy crème card because she admitted to having a thing for his cousin once.
It makes her stop dead in her tracks as she rounds the corner towards her cubicle, Penelope next door keeps peering over the divider to get a better look at the glorious display of flora and Serena giggles a bit too giddily before she sits down.
Tripp walks past, followed by his usual entourage and doesn't make eye contact.
Serena gives the flowers to Penelope.
The scent was giving her a headache, is all.
She knocks on his office door at midnight, tilts her head in and he feels better already.
"You look so beautiful today," he says as he pulls her close and kisses her bare shoulder, "Like your radiating almost." He thinks she could save him, his own personal sun he's rotating around and it fits.
He smiles against her lips.
"I'm pregnant."
He waits for the punchline, checks his watch to make sure it isn't April Fools Day.
One doesn't come, and it's still March.
"You have to get rid of it."
"I don't think I can."
She pulls him close(r), puts his hand on her stomach and-
"Get out, Serena."
She storms out and he flinches when the door slams shut, flexing his palm and trying to forget the feel of her stomach underneath it.
She comes clean to Blair and her mother, which means she's really coming clean to Chuck and Erik and Rufus and Dan and Jenny and Nate. (oh god oh god oh god, Nate) and ignores the stares of pity and disappointment and knowing and sympathy because it's easier.
Lilly speaks first, calmly mentions a facility that would more than willing to accept her for six months. Blair flinches at the word facility, and hesitates before she says it, but eventually agrees with Lilly.
Serena just nods her head and agrees, too exhausted and heavy with a child she knows she can't keep to fight.
Blair squeezes her hand and tells her she'll visit all the time.
Serena wonders if it'll be enough.
Their child comes into the world hard and fast and painful.
Serena screams through all fifteen hours, Blair holding her hand tight. She pushes harder and harder, screams I can't do it, it hurts, I want it out, I'm not strong enough, until the child tears its way into the world and her voice is hoarse.
Tripp smiles for the cameras with Maureen at his side just a couple miles but worlds away, writing a check for Maureen's favorite charity, dressed up in a custom Armani.
The adoptive parents take her (Lila Grace, Serena wanted, but they name her Sarah Elizabeth) away and Serena wonders when she turned into her mother.
The baby weight comes off miraculously fast, and when she returns back to the city, her city, everyone congratulates her on successfully completing her rehabilitation.
She murmurs thank you politely, drinks water at (most) public appearances, works at Bass Industries, doesn't see Tripp, and waits for her scandal to break.
It doesn't.
Nate's going to UCLA for law school, choosing to go across the country because he's sick of all the same people and all the same disappointments so Serena and Blair throw him a going away party.
It's perfect, on the top of Chuck's newest hotel, with lights twinkling and Japanese lanterns and an open bar.
Everyone is clothed in sundresses and button downs, the humidity causing sheens of perspiration on skin and making the beer bottles sweat.
She's too busy hostessing to notice the entrance of a certain Congressman, Maureen at his side with a perfectly rounded stomach.
When she turns around, the sight knocks all the breath out of her.
Blair is over before she remembers to breathe again, a comforting hand rubbing circles on her back accompanied by insults under her breath.
"I can handle this, if you want me to."
"Yeah, because that wouldn't be weird."
Blair tilts her head to the side, realizes sending away Nate's cousin might raise more questions than anyone would like and watches her best friend straighten her shoulders and walk over to say hello.
She only notices the unsteadiness while Serena's walking away on her Kate Spade espadrilles because she's looking for it; Chuck snakes his arm around her waist kisses her temple and she closes her eyes.
"Serena, lovely to see you."
Zipper undone, hand tangled in hair, mouth planting kisses all the way down-
"Tripp, always a pleasure."