A/N: Hi! It's been over a year (I think) since I wrote anything that I bothered to publish and I've found my problem, I'm never completely satisfied with what I've written so I like to save it and 'come back to it' to perfect it, but I never do. So here is my first story in a long time. Sorry about this AN, but it took something really special for me to put this up, it's based on the short story 'The Lady and the Lapdog' by Chekhov - if you've not read it you should go and read it NOW - google it and the first result is a free online copy. It's half-way between being the most romantic yet tragic story you will ever read and for that reason it obviously reminded me of Chuck and Blair. Also there's smut in this - you've been warned.

Chuck had always found Scotland one of the most boring places in the world. Everything moved slowly, the people were unfriendly and the tourists were completely puzzling. There were tight laws on alcohol, yet the whole country seemed drunk and brothels were hidden – literally – underground and quite frankly that made his skin crawl. He hadn't felt dry since he'd arrived. There was a constant layer of moisture between his clothes and body – much like wearing a wet suit. The hotel room was much the same as the rest of the world.

White sheets, vaguely abstract prints on the walls, gauzy curtains and a plush carpet. He somehow felt like he was home, even though he was in a backwards little country of about half of New York City's population.

He relaxed onto the bed trying to forget the day. He was trying hard to win over some Scottish business tycoon by bribing his way around – the entire country hated Trump – so naturally Chuck had spotted a niche that Bass could buy up and so far negotiations were going well, the other party were too polite to say no. He almost felt sorry for them.

He ate in the hotel restaurant that evening – the hotel was 30 minutes from the nearest town and he wasn't even too sure that there would be a good restaurant in the town. The hotel was his best bet. After his meal he ordered a scotch and moved over to the bar. That was when he saw her standing by the bar nursing her own scotch – the hotel's speciality oddly enough.

The sheer chance of them winding up in the same god-for-saken country at the same time was unintelligible. Chuck couldn't believe it. She looked lost though. He watched her, barely taking his eyes from her as she finished the scotch and then sashayed from the bar without even noticing him. It must be bad, he thought to himself. Or maybe she had changed. The Blair he knew didn't drink single malt, nor did she drink alone. Moreover, as Princess and wife of Monaco's prince héritier he couldn't imagine her not being very aware of her surroundings whilst in a bar. The only conclusion could be that she had had a few.

"You know she's been here a while," the bar man noticed where Chuck's eyes had been and struck up a conversation with a thick Scottish accent. Chuck nodded, turning to the man and handing over his empty glass for a third. "D'you recognize her?"

"Blair Grimaldi." Chuck stated. Grimaldi. Fucking Grimaldi. What Chuck wouldn't give to have never let her go that night. It was plainly the biggest regret of his life.

"Yup, they got security all o'er the place. It's crawlin' wi' the French men in suits. If you ask me it's just attracting attention."

"What she does best," Chuck gave the man a peculiar smile before asking him to put the scotch on his room and himself leaving the bar.

He purposefully slept late, hoping to avoid her at breakfast. He settled himself with Guardian ordered a plate of toast and bacon and double espresso. He was lazily reading something about taxes in Luxembourg and the granola-eaters-class outrage at the current British government and their tax plans when Blair arrived. He spotted her just before she saw him. Her walk had been confident, her heels clicking, her hips swaying, the hair flouncing. But she stopped in horror on spotting him and swiftly turned and left the dining room. He put his paper down and got up in a fluid movement and followed her out into the garden. She was pacing. She looked beautiful and for the first time Chuck really began to appreciate the beauty surrounding them. Blair was wearing a cozy cable knit sweater and dark suede boots. He'd rarely seen her in boots, but they did wonders for her legs. Her dark curls perfectly complemented the dreary landscape of green trees, grey sky and damp atmosphere. She made everything look beautiful, her pale skin setting of her curls to even greater effect.

"Blair?" He asked hesitantly, not daring to get any closer.

She turned to look at him, her dark eyes making the whole setting even more dramatic. She gave him a small smile, her blood red lips reminding him of yet another reason he'd missed her so dearly.

"What brings you here?"

Chuck smiled at her and soon found her in his arms as they held one another tightly. "God I've missed you," Chuck sighed as they parted.

"I've missed you more," she assured him.

"Not possible," he shook his head, but still not relinquishing their tight hug.

Blair broke away from him too quickly for his liking, but not abruptly by any means. "Did you know I was here?" She asked, hesitation in her voice.

"I had no idea, until I saw you last night."

"Last night?" Blair looked perplexed.

"Drowning your sorrows?" Chuck prompted.

Blair smirked at him. "Bad habit I picked up somewhere. What are you doing here?" She asked, trying to suppress the small embarrassment she felt at Chuck knowing she'd been drinking alone.

"Business," he shrugged, "but I wouldn't mind taking the day off to catch up."

"Would it extend your stay in this god-for-saken place?"

"I'm actually starting to find it rather beautiful," he smiled at her. "I can extend my trip a little."

Blair and Chuck spent the rest of the day in Blair's suite - just talking. Blair and Louis were having problems – she didn't go into them – but that was why she was here; trying to find some escapism away from the media, Louis, Sophie and Monaco. She had to go back at the end of the week.

She listened to Chuck and the more she listened the more wistful she became, his life sounded perfect. He'd recently moved into a penthouse overlooking Central Park – like the one she'd grown up in. Bass Industries was doing wonderfully. He showed her a few photos on his phone of Serena's two children (different fathers, of course) and Nate's daughter – she was going to be even more of a heartbreaker than her father, for sure. He shared his suspicions about the conception of Nate's daughter, because Nate's wife surely had to have hit the menopause – she was fast approaching 55.

Chuck noticed Blair stiffening slightly and he realized people's children probably weren't the best topic. Blair had lost a baby a few years ago, just after she and Louis had married. In a way it was probably a small blessing, as Chuck knew as well as Blair did that there would always be a question mark over that child's paternity.

Quite quickly the stiffening of her spine gave way to floods of tears. Chuck held her close as she sobbed onto him, unable to regain her composure at all. Chuck held her, he could tell she needed to be held, she needed to be held badly and by someone whom she could really trust.

Chuck held her the way that she needed to be, his grip so tight, but loving; his arms so strong, but gently.

The hotel didn't provide room service, but Chuck persuaded them to let them dine in her room. The front desk conceded and had food delivered to their room. They ate together, enjoying the food and one another's conversation. Blair had regained her composure and the day had continued rather happily, the two of them snuggled up on the couch to watch an old movie on BBC.

Chuck stood in the doorway ready to leave, but neither wanting him to.

"One night," Blair whispered. "Nobody needs to know."

He looked at her, shocked at her forwardness. He shook his head. "You're married, I can't destroy the marriage anymore than we both know I already have." They stood – their eyes locked together, his hazel eyes and her dark ebony. "I have to go," Chuck mumbled, she was too beautiful – too perfect. Too much had happened. He had to leave before he could make a mistake.

"Chuck," she suddenly pulled him to her, closing the door, the lips pulling his to her. "Please," she mumbled. "I've missed you."

Somehow his judgement became clouded. He needed her and she needed him. What could be more natural? He'd been dreaming of the day that he could touch her like this again. Her hair was so soft and thick. He tangled his hands in her hair, memorizing the feeling – knowing he was unlikely to ever get this chance again. Blair's lips were on his neck, her hands in his hair. She'd missed the way he touched her, so passionately but still gentle. They got tangled together undressing as Chuck pulled at her sweater, seeking out the lacy cami beneath. Blair fiddled with his buttons, loosing a few along the way. Chuck backed her up towards the inviting bed which they fell onto, Chuck taking the brunt of the fall and catching Blair before she could get hurt. He flipped them over and began kissing ever part of her exposed skin.

She arched into his mouth as he began to tease her nipple through the lace of her bra. God that felt good. She closed her eyes, raising her hips to grind against the tent shape of his underwear. Chuck did his best not to explode there and then. She was too much for him. He'd missed her too much, just being naked with her made him feel as though he'd hit ecstasy.

Blair reached down and slid her hand into his underwear. She slid her hand down, caressing him gently and moving her hand around to gently stroke his balls. She had never been this bold with Louis, always being the submissive one to his awkward advances. Being with Chuck let her be herself. She let her hand circle around his seeping tip.

"I need you Blair," Chuck suddenly mumbled as he divested her of her lacy underwear.

"You have me," Blair assured him arching up to meet his fingers. "Take me now."

Her eyes closed as he positioned himself and pushed forward into her. She gasped a little, but her arms tightened around him, assuring him it was good for her. It was odd the way he could remember so much about her preferences, her sensitive spots and the faces she made. But then again, nobody had ever claimed her place in his bed. Nobody ever would. She was his. Even if he couldn't have her, he knew one day, she would be his in everyway. They were inevitable.

His mouth closed around her breast as they made slow passionate love. He sucked on her hard and she moaned and twisted against him. She couldn't remember ever feeling this much pleasure, but at the same time she knew how amazing every single time with Chuck had been.

"Ah, Chuck," she suddenly arched further into him, he swiftly slid his hand between their bodies and rubbed her clit frantically as she tightened around him and encouraged his own release. He let go, everything flooding inside of her. Just like the night he had let her go. His lips crashed against hers and they toyed with one another hungrily until he realized that she was crying.

"Blair?"

She shook her head and held onto him tightly, they were still connected in the most intimate of ways. He rubbed her back reassuringly. They stayed like that all night, Blair fell asleep after a few hours, but Chuck couldn't sleep, not with Blair in his arms – he wanted to memorize every minute.

They sat together on a carved bench under a rose trellis. It really was a beautiful place to be. It was Saturday and Blair's flight home was that evening. They took tea together in the grounds of the hotel, enjoying a rare day of sunshine. The sun cast warmth over the perfectly manicured lawn and the primly trimmed flowers. The rose bushes almost glistened under a thin layer of that morning's dew. Their deep red shades contrasting with the stone wall they climbed up. The light hit the water of the lake and then danced all the way back up, making the surface shimmer as though it went on for miles.

Chuck couldn't think of anywhere else so beautiful even the stone building of the hotel, which he had thought quite ugly somehow became beautiful in the sunshine. It no longer looked damp, it now looked imperious and impressive, standing aloof at the top of the lawn it's beautiful engravings from the 1600s highlighted by the unusual brightness outside.

"It's odd the way that this place seemed so ugly, but becomes so beautiful in the right light." Chuck mused.

Blair looked at him pensively but said nothing. Her irises' were so dark it struck a lovely contrast with her skin. He would savour the memories of this trip for the rest of his life. He would never forget this. It only hurt him that like everything else it had to end. He would love for it to continue, in the great scheme of life what was their indiscresion against the backdrop of the whole world. What did it matter that she was married? She wasn't the first married woman to sin and she wouldn't be the last.

But Chuck knew better. He put those thoughts out of his mind. He had to let her go again. He was lucky to have had this, he reminded himself and one day things would fall into place.

The week had been rather wonderful, Blair couldn't face the idea of returning to Monaco and to Louis and Sophie, but she knew whatever it was she and Chuck had struck up, it wasn't real, it was dipping her toe into what could have been and she knew things were better the way they had turned out. She and Chuck had been toxic. Louis wasn't her perfect match, but at least she could always be confident that she was more loved than she loved. It was the best position to be in, unlike with Chuck she didn't feel as though Louis had the power to pull her whole world out from underneath her. But even though she was still afraid of the feelings between herself and Chuck, she couldn't help but love him. This week had been like being in paradise - a tiny little frozen paradise in the middle of a very damp country. A million miles from her real-life fairytale in the Principality of Monaco - but so much more satisfying.

A/N: I'd really appreciate reviews seeing as this is my first story in a long time. I apologize for the smear against Scotland - it's in a loving-jest. I was sent there on holiday to stay with my aunt's friend when I was 9 and it was AWFUL. It rained the whole time and she made us go to the beach (yes - in the RAIN) which was infested with jellyfish - they wouldn't sting, but still, also this woman would cut and clean my nails every morning and every night - there was nothing to cut! It was traumatizing so I thought it would be a nice equivalent to Gurov and Anna's feelings on Yalta. Also that awkward bit at the end was my attempt at something like the 'Oreanda' passage, but with less metaphysics. Oh yeah and you can google the Trump in Scotland nonsense too.