Fic: "she breaks it into miles", Rated Adult. Serena/Blair (Gossip Girl)
Title:she breaks it into miles
Author: Sionnain
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Pairing: Serena/Blair, mentions of Blair/Chuck.
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Contains spoilers for the season finale of Season 1.
Summary: The night before Blair leaves for Europe, she and Serena spend a little time together.
AN: I wanted some cute girl!sex. So I wrote some :P Thanks to E. and resolute for the beta! Incidentally, the body lotion from Sephora actually exists, but it's $65 bucks a bottle. A little out of my price range, but something tells me both Serena and Blair would have some :) The title is from the Dar Williams song Wilder than her, and the verse from whence it came is included beneath the cut. :) This song will totally end up on a Serena/Blair fanmix in the future!
she breaks it into miles
But when she takes my hand and she looks me in the eye/I see something that I've never seen in my life
She takes the fire and turns it down low/She takes the night and makes it not so cold
She takes the distance and breaks it into miles.
The night before Blair leaves for France, she has sixteen combinations of possible plane outfits spread on her bed amidst a few discarded accessories and one Serena Van Der Woodsen, a bit rumpled but still beautiful, fingers idly rubbing over the glass beaded necklace resting against her throat.
"I can't believe you're really going away with Chuck," Serena says in her honeyed voice, low and warm, and it reminds Blair of nice things; hot cocoa in winter, with maybe a hint of peppermint schnapps (Serena isn't ever as innocent as plain hot chocolate, which is why Blair likes her).
"I'm not going away with him," Blair responds pertly, folding her clothes and looking disdainfully at her suitcases. She needs at the very least two more pieces; how on earth is she going to get her hair accessories into one small bag? Only some type of uncivilized person, perhaps a Midwesterner, would find this amount of luggage sufficient. "I'm just flying to Europe on his father's jet. Completely different."
"Mhm," Serena says, and she's smiling, but Blair can see the sadness in her eyes, the dull pain which Serena has been trying so hard to hide since the wedding.
"S, are you still mopey about Dan?" Blair puts her hands on her hips. It sounds like a demand, like an order she expects to be immediately obeyed; Serena has to know Blair well enough by now to know that is how Blair shows concern. It usually sounds like she's being bossy. Then again, Blair usually sounds bossy most of the time. "Come on. Remember when Ryan and Reese broke up and we were so distraught? Now we're happy for her and Jake, right?"
"Blair, how can comparing me and Dan to celebrity couples possibly be the same thing?" Serena shakes her head sadly. "And I'm still sad about Ryan and Reese. Their kids!"
Blair waves her hand dismissively, clearing off a corner of the bed so she can sit down across from Serena. Even in her post-break-up woe, Serena is all sprawling limbs and easy gestures, everything about her graceful and unhurried. Blair, who is as relaxed as she ever is, still sits straight, can feel the tension knotting in her shoulders and back. It used to bother her, the way Serena moved like a flower dancing in the wind or some other hippie metaphor, but Blair is more confident, now, in who she is.
Serena can be a flower dancing in the wind, and I'm...a steel reinforcement beam, or something. Urban to her meadow. God, I have got to stop reading Pottery Barn catalogues.
"Their kids are raised by a nanny, anyway," Blair says with a callousness that speaks only of truth. "And my point is, you know that you're going to be fine. Serena, he's obviously a moron who isn't worthy of you if he was crass enough to dump you at your own mother's wedding. That's like, one rung beneath dumping you at prom, or something."
"You thought he wasn't worthy of me before," Serena reminds her, but she's smiling, just a little. "Even before the wedding."
"I don't think very many people are worthy of you," Blair responds, completely honestly. She reaches out and takes Serena's hand in hers. Serena's skin is always so warm. "You know that. It takes a lot to impress me."
"Chuck Bass?" Serena says, giggling a little. "Is that what it takes?"
Blair rolls her eyes. "Please. He's amusing and we're having a nice time. And I get to fly in a private jet to Europe without paying those ridiculously high fees for extra luggage. Seriously, who travels with one carry-on and only two bags? People with no fashion sense and a wardrobe completely inappropriate for two months in France, that's who," Blair says snidely, answering her own question. She's still holding Serena's hand in hers, her thumb caressing Serena's knuckles.
"Do you really care about extra fees?" Serena asks, sitting up a little, maybe--maybe--moving closer to Blair. "C'mon, Blair. You like him. Chuck. Just admit it."
"I--he's amusing, it's not terrible, and more than that, I'm reserving judgment, thank you very much." Blair narrows her eyes, pulls at Serena's hand, moving Serena through the sea of discarded designer clothes still strewn on her bed. "And you're avoiding the real conversation, here, S. Which is about Dan, and how he's not good enough for you. And how, by the end of the summer, you'll move on and find your Jake Gyllenhaal."
"You have got to stop reading so many tabloids."
"Give me a break, S, I am allowing myself two weeks off before I start my AP English reading." Blair tugs again, and this time, Serena gives in and moves across the bed. Blair raises up on her knees and her hands are on Serena's shoulders, and she likes this because it makes her taller, lets her look down on Serena. Blair traces her friend's face with light fingers, smiling as Serena tilts her head back almost unconsciously beneath the slight pressure. "You know what else I'm allowing myself?" A touch lower, now, down across the smooth column of Serena's throat, decorated with elegant Venetian glass beads that are just the color of Serena's eyes. A gift from Blair, a few years ago, they trap the afternoon sun and gleam like colored flame.
"Blair," Serena says, and her voice has something in it that's not sadness, thank god, and if she mentions Dan right now Blair is going to scream. Blair runs her fingers over Serena's throat, the touch as light as dew on silk. Serena's eyes are still opened, and Blair applies the slightest bit of pressure, and Serena's head tilts back further just like Blair wants. Blair leans down, and Serena does not mention Dan, thankfully, but she says in a quick whisper, "What about Chuck?"
Blair makes a low sound of amusement, and her lips touch the corner of Serena's mouth and move down. "He'll just be mad he didn't get to watch and you know it. Serena, this has nothing to do with him. Just like it had nothing to do with Nate." Blair pushes gently and Serena lies down, amidst the soft down and pretty clothes, and it's been a while since they've done this (another reason, Blair thinks, she's glad that Serena and Dan are through) but that's all right; the movements are as familiar as a dance (or perhaps shopping) something remembered and familiar and joyful shared between them.
Serena always giggles, which Blair expects; when she takes Serena's shirt off and kisses the other girl's stomach, Serena giggles wildly and tries to run her fingers through Blair's hair, but she meets resistance in the form of an elaborate twist held together with a million bobby pins. Serena begins enthusiastically pulling them out. "God, B, how many of these did you use? Be careful, a lightning storm might hit and you'd be toast."
Blair looks up from what she's doing, which is pressing kisses against Serena's stomach, and mock-scowls. "Not all of us look like models with the windblown look, S. I happen to look like a deranged lion who spent six hours in a convertible during a windstorm." Blair leans down and nips at the skin on Serena's waist, right where Blair knows Serena is most ticklish.
Serena squeaks and twists and tries to get away, but she doesn't want to, not really. Blair moves back up and her fingers find Serena's bra, and it takes her no time to get the hooks unfastened (girls, Blair's noticed, have much less trouble with this than boys) and toss it aside. Blair licks Serena's nipple with slow, careful deliberation and takes Serena's chin in her hand, forcing Serena to look down, to watch what she's doing. Serena tastes sweet, like brown sugar and honey, and something a little sharp--lemon, some kind of citrus, perhaps.
"Is this Sephora's Fresh Sugar body polish?" Blair asks suddenly, lifting her head again. She licks her lips and Serena nods, her face a little flushed, her mouth parted. "Thought so. It's nice. Good choice, S." Blair grins and leans down, kissing Serena on the mouth. "See?" she murmurs, and they're kissing now and not talking, and Blair rests her body against Serena's, liking the softness of Serena's curves, the press of her breasts against Blair's own.
Serena has always been a little shy with this, even though the first time she and Blair had kissed--for real, not just a peck--it had been at Serena's suggestion; they'd been drinking at some party, and Blair had been relaxed and happy and cheerful (though maybe only Serena could tell). They'd been in Chuck's suite, strangely enough, and it had been a quick little kiss because of a dare in front of everyone, over in seconds. Later, when everyone was skipping the martini glasses and drinking vodka straight (except for Blair; she preferred hers in a glass, with olives, thank you very much), Serena had tugged her into the bedroom and shut the door.
"Let's do that again," Serena had said, her eyes bright with liquor-inspired challenge and her back against the door. Even though it was her idea she'd known, instinctively, that Blair would be the one to take charge. It had been strange, at first, but not as strange as Blair thought it would be. (Because she'd thought about it, hadn't she, in the bath sometimes, her hand moving between her legs while she tried to think about Nate but thought about Serena instead?)
It was never something they planned; like now, it was something spontaneous and sudden, maybe one of the few things of that nature that Blair allowed herself. And not for awhile, not since before Serena had left New York and stayed away for a year. Serena returned and Blair hated her for leaving, and then Serena had hooked up with Dan, Dan who Serena didn't think would like it if he knew his girlfriend sometimes had sex with her best friend.
(Chuck, Blair knew, wouldn't care. He'd just want pictures, and then he'd try to sell them at school or put them on Gossip Girl, and to get mad at him for that would be like throwing a fish at a bear and then getting mad at the bear for eating it. Blair wasn't an idiot, and she wasn't fooled by Chuck Bass in the slightest; no matter how nice he'd been, no matter what flowery words he'd mouthed at his dad's wedding, he was still Chuck Bass.)
It's not as hard as it might have been, getting back to it; Serena is the same in this as she is in everything; carefree and completely herself, responsive to Blair's every move. Blair leaves Serena's panties on because she likes the way Serena looks, the bright blue silk thong ("Seriously, S, in the middle of the day?") a contrast with Serena's pretty skin, a little sun-kissed but still mostly winter-fair. Blair removes Serena's clothes with careful fingers, undoing all the buttons just like they should be undone, and Serena, of course, pops a button off of Blair's shirt in her less-elegant haste. It's all right, Blair thinks, but only because it's Serena.
Anyone else, they'd be buying her something nice to make up for it. Serena can do something else nice to make up for it. Blair's generous that way.
Serena makes noises, gratifying noises, and her head tosses back and forth on the pillows as Blair unerringly finds the right spots, strokes her sure and hard and fast. Blair likes the flush that climbs up Serena's pretty breasts, the way Serena bites her lip and arches her back when she comes. Blair also likes the way she's not thinking about Chuck and laundry and packing and tomorrow's inevitable leave-taking, and Serena's obviously not thinking about Dan or being sad or any of it. It's just the two of them, together, just like it should be. There's something inherently silly between them, entwined with friendship and affection and desire, and Blair thinks idly it's never this good with anyone else, but she doesn't take time to think about why. She just watches Serena, watches the way the light from the spring afternoon spills though the window and turns Serena's skin the color of honey tinged with pink.
Serena plays in bed like a puppy, all bright-eyed exuberance, and after catching her breath she pushes Blair back and climbs all over her, kissing her and giggling and being--well, being Serena. Blair, because she's Blair, is just as bossy and demanding as she usually is--"Lower, can you--there, that's right, God, don't--don't stop like that, why would you do that?"--and urges Serena to settle into a rhythm that's good and right and Blair tenses all her muscles and points her toes, and she's quiet when she comes but that's all right. Serena won't ask endless questions (did I do it right, are you okay) because Serena knows that's just how Blair is.
Afterwards, Serena curls up with her head on Blair's stomach. Serena's eyes are closed, her face relaxed, and the evening light plays on her face and Blair thinks again that Serena is impossibly beautiful. Blair plays with Serena's hair, the strands soft between her fingers. "So," Blair says, and her voice is somewhat grudging, even to her. "I'll miss you, I guess."
Serena's whole body shivers as she laughs, just like it did when she comes; she peeks up at Blair with a crooked grin. "Wow, thanks, B."
"It's just--I don't--you know, this thing with Chuck. It's not like--it's not like us. I'd rather go to Europe with you. Boys are dumb and even though Chuck likes to shop, it's not quite the same." Blair stretches, but she shakes her head when Serena tries to move away, indicating that she should stay. "No, it's all right. I just mean...the last time you left, you know. You didn't say goodbye and then I missed you and pretended I didn't. So. I'm going to miss you, and you should drag your ass out of the Hamptons and whatever zen-introspection thing you're planning on doing and come to France." Blair expels a breath. It's hard for her to say that, because it seems vulnerable, and she hates to be vulnerable.
But Serena just smiles and nods. "Yeah, you know, I really should. And I could, I bet--I mean, Chuck's private plane is kind of my mom's now, too, right? We can run around your dad's winery--is it a winery?--and then go shopping in Paris. It'd be fun." Serena lays her head back down on Blair's stomach. The last of the sunlight is going to fade, soon, and then it will be full dark. Blair won't ask Serena if she wants to stay, but she hopes Serena does; it would be nice to sleep in her bed, (perhaps without the plethora of clothes), Serena's body warm against her own. One last sleepover before the summer takes them away from each other.
"'Course it'd be fun. We're always fun, S." Blair yawns. They should get up, have dinner, maybe go out for one last Cosmo. And Blair really needs to finish packing. In fact, there are a million things she needs to do, but she doesn't want to move. All of it can wait until morning. This is enough, for now.
Author: Sionnain
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Pairing: Serena/Blair, mentions of Blair/Chuck.
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Contains spoilers for the season finale of Season 1.
Summary: The night before Blair leaves for Europe, she and Serena spend a little time together.
AN: I wanted some cute girl!sex. So I wrote some :P Thanks to E. and resolute for the beta! Incidentally, the body lotion from Sephora actually exists, but it's $65 bucks a bottle. A little out of my price range, but something tells me both Serena and Blair would have some :) The title is from the Dar Williams song Wilder than her, and the verse from whence it came is included beneath the cut. :) This song will totally end up on a Serena/Blair fanmix in the future!
she breaks it into miles
But when she takes my hand and she looks me in the eye/I see something that I've never seen in my life
She takes the fire and turns it down low/She takes the night and makes it not so cold
She takes the distance and breaks it into miles.
The night before Blair leaves for France, she has sixteen combinations of possible plane outfits spread on her bed amidst a few discarded accessories and one Serena Van Der Woodsen, a bit rumpled but still beautiful, fingers idly rubbing over the glass beaded necklace resting against her throat.
"I can't believe you're really going away with Chuck," Serena says in her honeyed voice, low and warm, and it reminds Blair of nice things; hot cocoa in winter, with maybe a hint of peppermint schnapps (Serena isn't ever as innocent as plain hot chocolate, which is why Blair likes her).
"I'm not going away with him," Blair responds pertly, folding her clothes and looking disdainfully at her suitcases. She needs at the very least two more pieces; how on earth is she going to get her hair accessories into one small bag? Only some type of uncivilized person, perhaps a Midwesterner, would find this amount of luggage sufficient. "I'm just flying to Europe on his father's jet. Completely different."
"Mhm," Serena says, and she's smiling, but Blair can see the sadness in her eyes, the dull pain which Serena has been trying so hard to hide since the wedding.
"S, are you still mopey about Dan?" Blair puts her hands on her hips. It sounds like a demand, like an order she expects to be immediately obeyed; Serena has to know Blair well enough by now to know that is how Blair shows concern. It usually sounds like she's being bossy. Then again, Blair usually sounds bossy most of the time. "Come on. Remember when Ryan and Reese broke up and we were so distraught? Now we're happy for her and Jake, right?"
"Blair, how can comparing me and Dan to celebrity couples possibly be the same thing?" Serena shakes her head sadly. "And I'm still sad about Ryan and Reese. Their kids!"
Blair waves her hand dismissively, clearing off a corner of the bed so she can sit down across from Serena. Even in her post-break-up woe, Serena is all sprawling limbs and easy gestures, everything about her graceful and unhurried. Blair, who is as relaxed as she ever is, still sits straight, can feel the tension knotting in her shoulders and back. It used to bother her, the way Serena moved like a flower dancing in the wind or some other hippie metaphor, but Blair is more confident, now, in who she is.
Serena can be a flower dancing in the wind, and I'm...a steel reinforcement beam, or something. Urban to her meadow. God, I have got to stop reading Pottery Barn catalogues.
"Their kids are raised by a nanny, anyway," Blair says with a callousness that speaks only of truth. "And my point is, you know that you're going to be fine. Serena, he's obviously a moron who isn't worthy of you if he was crass enough to dump you at your own mother's wedding. That's like, one rung beneath dumping you at prom, or something."
"You thought he wasn't worthy of me before," Serena reminds her, but she's smiling, just a little. "Even before the wedding."
"I don't think very many people are worthy of you," Blair responds, completely honestly. She reaches out and takes Serena's hand in hers. Serena's skin is always so warm. "You know that. It takes a lot to impress me."
"Chuck Bass?" Serena says, giggling a little. "Is that what it takes?"
Blair rolls her eyes. "Please. He's amusing and we're having a nice time. And I get to fly in a private jet to Europe without paying those ridiculously high fees for extra luggage. Seriously, who travels with one carry-on and only two bags? People with no fashion sense and a wardrobe completely inappropriate for two months in France, that's who," Blair says snidely, answering her own question. She's still holding Serena's hand in hers, her thumb caressing Serena's knuckles.
"Do you really care about extra fees?" Serena asks, sitting up a little, maybe--maybe--moving closer to Blair. "C'mon, Blair. You like him. Chuck. Just admit it."
"I--he's amusing, it's not terrible, and more than that, I'm reserving judgment, thank you very much." Blair narrows her eyes, pulls at Serena's hand, moving Serena through the sea of discarded designer clothes still strewn on her bed. "And you're avoiding the real conversation, here, S. Which is about Dan, and how he's not good enough for you. And how, by the end of the summer, you'll move on and find your Jake Gyllenhaal."
"You have got to stop reading so many tabloids."
"Give me a break, S, I am allowing myself two weeks off before I start my AP English reading." Blair tugs again, and this time, Serena gives in and moves across the bed. Blair raises up on her knees and her hands are on Serena's shoulders, and she likes this because it makes her taller, lets her look down on Serena. Blair traces her friend's face with light fingers, smiling as Serena tilts her head back almost unconsciously beneath the slight pressure. "You know what else I'm allowing myself?" A touch lower, now, down across the smooth column of Serena's throat, decorated with elegant Venetian glass beads that are just the color of Serena's eyes. A gift from Blair, a few years ago, they trap the afternoon sun and gleam like colored flame.
"Blair," Serena says, and her voice has something in it that's not sadness, thank god, and if she mentions Dan right now Blair is going to scream. Blair runs her fingers over Serena's throat, the touch as light as dew on silk. Serena's eyes are still opened, and Blair applies the slightest bit of pressure, and Serena's head tilts back further just like Blair wants. Blair leans down, and Serena does not mention Dan, thankfully, but she says in a quick whisper, "What about Chuck?"
Blair makes a low sound of amusement, and her lips touch the corner of Serena's mouth and move down. "He'll just be mad he didn't get to watch and you know it. Serena, this has nothing to do with him. Just like it had nothing to do with Nate." Blair pushes gently and Serena lies down, amidst the soft down and pretty clothes, and it's been a while since they've done this (another reason, Blair thinks, she's glad that Serena and Dan are through) but that's all right; the movements are as familiar as a dance (or perhaps shopping) something remembered and familiar and joyful shared between them.
Serena always giggles, which Blair expects; when she takes Serena's shirt off and kisses the other girl's stomach, Serena giggles wildly and tries to run her fingers through Blair's hair, but she meets resistance in the form of an elaborate twist held together with a million bobby pins. Serena begins enthusiastically pulling them out. "God, B, how many of these did you use? Be careful, a lightning storm might hit and you'd be toast."
Blair looks up from what she's doing, which is pressing kisses against Serena's stomach, and mock-scowls. "Not all of us look like models with the windblown look, S. I happen to look like a deranged lion who spent six hours in a convertible during a windstorm." Blair leans down and nips at the skin on Serena's waist, right where Blair knows Serena is most ticklish.
Serena squeaks and twists and tries to get away, but she doesn't want to, not really. Blair moves back up and her fingers find Serena's bra, and it takes her no time to get the hooks unfastened (girls, Blair's noticed, have much less trouble with this than boys) and toss it aside. Blair licks Serena's nipple with slow, careful deliberation and takes Serena's chin in her hand, forcing Serena to look down, to watch what she's doing. Serena tastes sweet, like brown sugar and honey, and something a little sharp--lemon, some kind of citrus, perhaps.
"Is this Sephora's Fresh Sugar body polish?" Blair asks suddenly, lifting her head again. She licks her lips and Serena nods, her face a little flushed, her mouth parted. "Thought so. It's nice. Good choice, S." Blair grins and leans down, kissing Serena on the mouth. "See?" she murmurs, and they're kissing now and not talking, and Blair rests her body against Serena's, liking the softness of Serena's curves, the press of her breasts against Blair's own.
Serena has always been a little shy with this, even though the first time she and Blair had kissed--for real, not just a peck--it had been at Serena's suggestion; they'd been drinking at some party, and Blair had been relaxed and happy and cheerful (though maybe only Serena could tell). They'd been in Chuck's suite, strangely enough, and it had been a quick little kiss because of a dare in front of everyone, over in seconds. Later, when everyone was skipping the martini glasses and drinking vodka straight (except for Blair; she preferred hers in a glass, with olives, thank you very much), Serena had tugged her into the bedroom and shut the door.
"Let's do that again," Serena had said, her eyes bright with liquor-inspired challenge and her back against the door. Even though it was her idea she'd known, instinctively, that Blair would be the one to take charge. It had been strange, at first, but not as strange as Blair thought it would be. (Because she'd thought about it, hadn't she, in the bath sometimes, her hand moving between her legs while she tried to think about Nate but thought about Serena instead?)
It was never something they planned; like now, it was something spontaneous and sudden, maybe one of the few things of that nature that Blair allowed herself. And not for awhile, not since before Serena had left New York and stayed away for a year. Serena returned and Blair hated her for leaving, and then Serena had hooked up with Dan, Dan who Serena didn't think would like it if he knew his girlfriend sometimes had sex with her best friend.
(Chuck, Blair knew, wouldn't care. He'd just want pictures, and then he'd try to sell them at school or put them on Gossip Girl, and to get mad at him for that would be like throwing a fish at a bear and then getting mad at the bear for eating it. Blair wasn't an idiot, and she wasn't fooled by Chuck Bass in the slightest; no matter how nice he'd been, no matter what flowery words he'd mouthed at his dad's wedding, he was still Chuck Bass.)
It's not as hard as it might have been, getting back to it; Serena is the same in this as she is in everything; carefree and completely herself, responsive to Blair's every move. Blair leaves Serena's panties on because she likes the way Serena looks, the bright blue silk thong ("Seriously, S, in the middle of the day?") a contrast with Serena's pretty skin, a little sun-kissed but still mostly winter-fair. Blair removes Serena's clothes with careful fingers, undoing all the buttons just like they should be undone, and Serena, of course, pops a button off of Blair's shirt in her less-elegant haste. It's all right, Blair thinks, but only because it's Serena.
Anyone else, they'd be buying her something nice to make up for it. Serena can do something else nice to make up for it. Blair's generous that way.
Serena makes noises, gratifying noises, and her head tosses back and forth on the pillows as Blair unerringly finds the right spots, strokes her sure and hard and fast. Blair likes the flush that climbs up Serena's pretty breasts, the way Serena bites her lip and arches her back when she comes. Blair also likes the way she's not thinking about Chuck and laundry and packing and tomorrow's inevitable leave-taking, and Serena's obviously not thinking about Dan or being sad or any of it. It's just the two of them, together, just like it should be. There's something inherently silly between them, entwined with friendship and affection and desire, and Blair thinks idly it's never this good with anyone else, but she doesn't take time to think about why. She just watches Serena, watches the way the light from the spring afternoon spills though the window and turns Serena's skin the color of honey tinged with pink.
Serena plays in bed like a puppy, all bright-eyed exuberance, and after catching her breath she pushes Blair back and climbs all over her, kissing her and giggling and being--well, being Serena. Blair, because she's Blair, is just as bossy and demanding as she usually is--"Lower, can you--there, that's right, God, don't--don't stop like that, why would you do that?"--and urges Serena to settle into a rhythm that's good and right and Blair tenses all her muscles and points her toes, and she's quiet when she comes but that's all right. Serena won't ask endless questions (did I do it right, are you okay) because Serena knows that's just how Blair is.
Afterwards, Serena curls up with her head on Blair's stomach. Serena's eyes are closed, her face relaxed, and the evening light plays on her face and Blair thinks again that Serena is impossibly beautiful. Blair plays with Serena's hair, the strands soft between her fingers. "So," Blair says, and her voice is somewhat grudging, even to her. "I'll miss you, I guess."
Serena's whole body shivers as she laughs, just like it did when she comes; she peeks up at Blair with a crooked grin. "Wow, thanks, B."
"It's just--I don't--you know, this thing with Chuck. It's not like--it's not like us. I'd rather go to Europe with you. Boys are dumb and even though Chuck likes to shop, it's not quite the same." Blair stretches, but she shakes her head when Serena tries to move away, indicating that she should stay. "No, it's all right. I just mean...the last time you left, you know. You didn't say goodbye and then I missed you and pretended I didn't. So. I'm going to miss you, and you should drag your ass out of the Hamptons and whatever zen-introspection thing you're planning on doing and come to France." Blair expels a breath. It's hard for her to say that, because it seems vulnerable, and she hates to be vulnerable.
But Serena just smiles and nods. "Yeah, you know, I really should. And I could, I bet--I mean, Chuck's private plane is kind of my mom's now, too, right? We can run around your dad's winery--is it a winery?--and then go shopping in Paris. It'd be fun." Serena lays her head back down on Blair's stomach. The last of the sunlight is going to fade, soon, and then it will be full dark. Blair won't ask Serena if she wants to stay, but she hopes Serena does; it would be nice to sleep in her bed, (perhaps without the plethora of clothes), Serena's body warm against her own. One last sleepover before the summer takes them away from each other.
"'Course it'd be fun. We're always fun, S." Blair yawns. They should get up, have dinner, maybe go out for one last Cosmo. And Blair really needs to finish packing. In fact, there are a million things she needs to do, but she doesn't want to move. All of it can wait until morning. This is enough, for now.