He rolled onto his side and looked over at the space beside him in bed. He wasn't surprised it was empty. Flopping back against the pillows he sighed and scratched his chest. He was going to have to start setting his alarm if he had any hope of ever having morning sex again.

"Blair?" He called out to her, his voice thick with sleep, and smiled at the quick click of her heels as she headed towards him.

"You're up! About time, Sleepy head!" She called in the chipper, Type A tone, he knew so well. She was on her game today.

Blair was starting her first day of work today, and she'd spent all Sunday prepping for it, gone to bed at 8pm, and then gotten up at 5am.

"It's 7am." He smiled.

"I know! Can you believe it's so late!" Her eyes widened, and he knew she was serious. "I have to run! I don't want to be late!"

Already dressed and ready, she spun around and headed into the living room. Stretching, he got up and followed her to where she stood by the counter in the kitchen. She took a sip from her coffee mug, and then passed it over to him. He knew not to take a sip, and with cup still in hand, he walked to the fridge to add a good dose of milk and sugar to it. She liked her coffee black, and he'd never gotten used to it.

He watched her double, and then triple check, the contents of her purse and brief case. This was a woman who'd grown up in one of the best families in Boston, gone to the best schools, and who'd blown him away when he'd met her in their Yale dorm freshman year. Okay, maybe he'd hated her at first, but over late nights at the Yale Daily News, he'd seen there was more to her than a society princess. She was driven. Smart. And funny... sometimes even intentionally. They'd started dating sophomore year, and had gotten married at the end of their Junior.

They'd graduated in the spring and moved to New York, where she'd gotten a job at one of the biggest companies in the city. She'd wanted to go to law school, but when the economy went bust, and taken her trust fund with it, she'd had to adjust. He knew she wanted to be more than an executive assistant, and he knew she would be. One day.

He caught her before she'd gotten to the door and pulled her into his arms. He went in for a kiss, but she turned her head, offering him her cheek. "My lipstick." She muttered.

He sighed, but smiled after kissing her perfect cheek. "You're going to be great, Mrs. Humphrey."

"Ms. Waldorf." She corrected Dan.

He cringed, but let it go to continue his pep talk. "You're going to knock him off his feet."

She smiled, thinking about the boss she'd yet to meet, but who she had the goal of having him eating out of the palm of her hand.

An hour later.

Last week Blair had gone through two interviews with Human Resources. The first one had been perfectly normal, and she'd aced it the way she aced all interviews.

It was the second one that had gotten weird. After an exhausting barrage of questions, Blair had cut them off as they started really spiraling into the personal. She'd gotten up and been heading out the door when he'd stopped her and sent her upstairs. To the top floor. She cracked her knuckles all the way up in the elevator, but when she'd stepped off she'd been her cool, together self. It had served her well in the meeting that had followed.

And now she was sitting at her new desk, tapping her pen. Then she heard the growing hum of the elevator, signaling its arrival. She stood and moved to wait beside her desk.

She knew how she was. She knew how she looked. High end. Educated. Intelligent. Beautiful.

Perfect.

Everything was in place.

Then he stepped off the elevator.

And she could almost feel her perfect world blowup into a million pieces.

"No." Those were the first word out of his mouth after his eyes had traced her figure from bottom to top. He then proceeded to walk by her and into his office without another glance.

For a moment she stood there, flabbergasted, and then the anger kicked in. She followed him into his office, and her foot tapped at she looked at him.

"Excuse me?" She bit out. She's been planning on using her most efficient and professional voices, with just a hint of charm. It's the voice she employed with professors and every other person she needed to get a head. With one word from him that had slipped away.

Chuck sat at his desk, opening his computer, and for all intents and purposes, ignoring her.

"I believe my 'No' was quite clear." His eyes stayed on his screen.

"Yes, Mr. Bass, I speak three languages, I understood you quite clearly. Unfortunately you seem to be unclear on what makes up a full sentence. One word does not provide me with the information I need to discern anything from you."

He began to type, but she saw a tick in his jaw as it tightened. "Fine. The human resources department seems to have not gotten a memo. I require an executive personal assistant. I do not require eye candy."

"Careful, Mr. Bass, this is sounding an awful lot like grounds for a law suit, which I would know since I was pre-law."

"Pre-law doesn't mean lawyer, last time I checked."

"And from what I understand, you didn't attend, let alone graduate from any institution after High School, so in fact, how would you know?"

His fingers paused, hovering over the keyboard for a split second before they started their quick rhythm again. "For someone who is, by her own declaration, educate, it seems very unwise to insult your employer."

"Since you seem to have been trying to fire me since you arrived ten minutes ago, I don't see why I should be guarded in any of my responses to your litigious rudeness."

"I don't think we're a good match." His jaw twitched again, and he spoke coolly.

"Really?" She looked at him with a raised brow, her eyes swept over his grey suit and purple dress shirt and accents, and the glance over her own clothes that were oddly of the same palette. "And here I thought we complemented each other perfectly."

He sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh, and his head bumped back against the leather as he shut his eyes. When he opened them, his amber gaze was locked right on her dark brown eyes.

"My girl friend is the jealous type..."

"So is my husband." Blair responded dryly, lifting her ringed left hand to demonstrate this. She didn't ask him anything further, rather she closed the door on the subject. "I'll be at my desk. Call if you need anything."

She shut the door after herself, and walked carefully over to her desk, lowering herself into her seat. She took a sip of water from the glass on her desk. "Fuck."

Alone in his office, Chuck got up and poured himself a scotch. "Fuck."