One more time, that's it.
Title: One more time, that's it.
Author: J.Elei
Fandom: Gossip Girl, S/B
Disclaimer: no infringement intended, don't own anything, and I hardly think this qualifies as writing.
AN: First attempt at writing ever, one shot.
Blair’s not sure she likes this New Serena.
When they were kids, before Old Serena abandoned her for some dykey boarding school, before she became Dan Humphrey’s girlfriend, before she decided to apologize for everything, before…before, Blair knew what the look on Serena’s face meant.
“B.”
“B…”
“B!”
The third enunciation always earned S a stern look from B. S would just giggle. It was the same giggle that arose when they chased Nate in kindergarten and threatened to infect him with their girl cooties. B thinks S will always be five years old. (B thought that, until one day, S wasn’t).
Old Serena was simple. She was easy to fix. (So was Old Blair). This new one, she’s not sure how to fix her. She’s not sure what the problem is, so she's not sure how to fix it. She’s not even sure what it is. Old Serena always started with a phone call at 2am.
“B”
“S, where are you?”
“B, the place is amazing, you should be here.”
“I would be there S, if I knew where there was.”
It takes B twenty minutes before she finds the right club. It takes her another twenty to get S into the car. She figures finding Serena’s left shoe would take another hour. She doesn’t care enough. Plus they were last season. She’s doing S a favor really. S does her a favor too. She starts to nibble on her ear lobe. At least, it would be a favor if S weren’t so drunk. Blair pushes her away. S just giggles. She moves on to B’s neck, playing with her new toy. (The kind of toy that sighs when you lick the right spot). Blair thinks if she were a toy she would be one of those Victorian dolls. S is pretty sure B would be a rubric’s cube. S’s mouth traces out a path heading towards the V of Blair’s dress. Her hand moves to meet her mouth, feeling her way up B’s thigh. Before they can reach a middle ground S stops. She pulls back, forcing B to meet her gaze. And so it begins. Her eyes sparkle with the knowledge of what she’s about to do. What B is about to allow her to do. It’s Old Serena’s favorite game. How many moves before she can get B to give in and play with her. It was always a game. And B is very good at games.
New Serena’s looks hold a different promise of things to come. There are no phone calls at obscene hours. S no longer makes suggestive comments while her voice is laden with liquor. The looks start to occur at odd hours of the day. Sometimes B catches S staring at her in the middle of class, and she starts to feel exposed. She wonders what S is playing at- they both know the rules. These moments are only allowed to occur after dark. Without the cover of night B thinks she might be forced to actually see what’s happening. There will be no excuses now. S has made sure of that.
B’s not sure what game New Serena is playing at. She’s not sure this is a game at all. And if it’s not a game, how can she win?