The Subterfuge of Serena
Serena despised rifts in her inner circle. For several tumultuous months upon her return to New York, her inner circle had been fraught with trouble. Her and Blair vacillated between friends and enemies over Nate. The latter had his own problems, driving a wedge between him and his own best friend. Their problems had resolved, neosporin applied to wounds, but like always, new problems began.
Chuck and Blair began.
He left her in Tuscany with barely a word and a woman scorned has nothing on a Waldorf scorned. Serena had seen Blair bitter before. Nearly every month Blair spent at least a few days bitter over Nate, but this was different. While she was bitter, Serena could also see the pain in her eyes. Despite her friend's snide remarks and replacements, she knew that she still cared.
Therefore, as Blair's best friend, it was her job to make things right.
Hence her standing in front of Chuck's penthouse.
She knocked on his door, three succinct marks on the door, and silently prayed that he would be alone. A woman dressed in a pinstripe suit opened the door and Serena inhaled sharply.
"Is Chuck here?"
"I'm right here," he called out, meeting them at the door as he adjusted his tie.
Well, at least he was clothed.
"Chuck, we need to talk."
"Why? What's going on?"
"We just need to talk," Serena told him. He didn't look convinced so she added, "It's about Blair."
His face changed and he demanded, "Is she okay?"
"Yeah, she's fine. Listen, can we please just talk?"
"Okay," he said hurriedly, exhaling loudly before turning to the woman in the pin stripe suit. "Will you tell my father that I will be a little late for the meeting?"
"Of course, Mr. Bass."
"Thank you, oh, and thank you for the briefing as well. I appreciate it."
"You're welcome, I will tell your father you are running behind."
Chuck nodded and ushered Serena in, closing the door. Serena glanced back at the door and muttered, "You did some briefing, huh?"
"Believe it or not, sister, she was helping me be prepared for the meeting with my father. The only part of her I touched was her hand when I shook it. Now, what's this talk about Blair?"
"Look, Chuck, I know that you messed up and she hasn't exactly been the most gracious towards you as of lately, but she really does love you."
"Don't start this again," Chuck lamented, moving to the bar.
"She does, Chuck, and I know you love her, too."
"Oh, really? And when have you started reading minds?"
"It's obvious."
"And how is that, all knowing sister?"
She rolled her eyes and replied, "You didn't sleep with pinstripe suit girl."
"So?"
"Chuck, you had her alone in your penthouse and you didn't sleep with her. Face it, you're still whipped."
"I am not whipped," he defended. "And did it ever occur to you that I didn't want to sleep with her?"
"You sleep with everything that has a pulse and breasts."
"Not true," he argued. "I haven't slept with you."
"Ew, gross, Chuck."
"What? It's true."
She sighed and told him softly, "Tell her you love her, before it's too late."
"Before it's too late? What the hell does that mean?"
"You know how she's visiting her dad and Roman in France?"
"Yeah, she keeps going on and on about finding a French guy whenever I'm around."
"She's not coming back."
Chuck didn't answer for a moment.
"She's not coming back?" He asked, blinking rapidly. Serena nodded, watching an array of emotions flash across his face.
"What do you mean she's not coming back? She's taking an extended vacation, or-"
"She is not coming back to New York," Serena explained. "She really missed her dad. You know that she was always closer with him than Eleanor. She wanted to spend more time with him."
"But she doesn't like Roman," Chuck muttered, not understanding how this all could be happening. How could Blair, his Blair, be leaving?
Serena shrugged and replied, "It's the price she has to pay for being with her father. Well, one of many prices she has to pay."
"She's really going?" Chuck asked obstinately. "She really is not coming back?"
"She's made up her mind completely," Serena filled in. "She says that there is nothing left here for her, that-"
"Like hell there isn't," Chuck spat. "Help yourself to whatever you want from the bar or refrigerator. I have some business to take care of."
As he closed the door he heard her yell, "Her plane leaves in two hours."
He was going to have to act fast.
Blair carefully laid her clothes in her suitcase, a sense of calm flooding her that she had not felt in some time. She was going away, finally having a chance to escape her problems. She wouldn't have to face them every day, more importantly, face him every day. She wouldn't have to parade men in front of him, work so hard to convince him that she didn't love him anymore. She could languish in France and do whatever she wanted. Maybe even let herself daydream about him if the chance arose.
Or not.
"Ms. Blair, you have a visitor," Dorota told her nervously. She smiled at her maid's jumpiness and told her, "let them in."
She figured it was Serena and pulled out a dress from her suitcase to show her. She had bought it the day before and thought that Serena would like it in burnt orange. At the sound of the door opening she twirled around and gaily said, "S, look at this-"
She stopped when she found Chuck standing before her.
"Nice dress," he said.
"Chuck, what are you doing here?" She asked, turning around and stuffing the dress back in her suitcase.
"I need to talk to you."
"I have to pack," she said, her back to him. He walked forward, gingerly laying placing a hand on her back.
"Don't go," he whispered.
"I have to go," she answered immediately, recoiling from his touch. "My dad is looking forward to seeing me and Roman has these new designs to show me."
"People need you, here."
"They'll survive," Blair tossed off. "Listen, my plane leaves soon, so-"
"How can you say that so easily? They'll survive. Blair, you're leaving your friends, your family, your…" he trailed off, not entirely prepared to finish his thought. She stared at him for a while, her eyebrows scrunched together in frustration.
"Chuck Bass, I think you have finally lost your mind. All that drinking has killed one too many brain cells."
"Fine, call me crazy," Chuck said, gesturing widely. "You know what, you probably are right. I am crazy, Blair. I am crazy with worry that you will step on that plane and I will never see you again. I can't lose you, Blair. I know that I have been ass lately."
"You are Chuck Bass," Blair muttered.
"But I can't lose you, Blair, not again."
Neither of them spoke for a moment and then he moved forward, caressing her cheek gently as he murmured, "I love you."
"No you don't," she mumbled.
"Yes," he said, smiling, "I do. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else. In fact, you are probably the only person that I have ever loved."
"You can't love me," she mumbled, shaking her head.
"And why is that?"
"You're Chuck Bass."
He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. "You forgot one important thing. You're Blair Waldorf."
He pulled her into an embrace but she slid away from his arms.
"Chuck, what are you doing?" She asked softly, tossing a shirt into her suitcase. He stood behind her and answered, "For once in my life, I am being honest. This is the truth Blair, no tricks, no schemes. I love you. I've loved you for a long time."
"Then why are you telling me now?" She asked, turning to him. "Why not at the White Party? Why not the hundreds of other opportunities that you had?"
"I was afraid," he admitted. "You're an intimidating person, Blair. I didn't know what you would do to my heart if I gave it to you."
"Chuck-"
"But, it's yours. It's always been yours."
Blair hesitated, the words that had come so easily before felt slippery in her mouth.
She loved him. It was undeniable, but she couldn't say it. As the words would brush against the tip of her tongue she would remember his betrayal, his abandonment. She couldn't go through that again. She wouldn't be able to come out unscathed a second time.
"Blair," he murmured, moving forward and wrapping his arms around her waist. She didn't move, her arms hanging limply at her side as she looked into his eyes.
"I want to believe you," she whispered.
"Then believe me."
"How do I know you won't hurt me again?"
"I won't."
"You really hurt me, Chuck," she said, tears forming in her deep brown eyes. "I can't go through that again."
"I won't hurt you," he said, articulating each word. "You're a part of me, Blair. I can't hurt you without hurting me and we all know how selfish Chuck Bass is."
"That is an awful argument," Blair said softly.
"I think I have one that may work a bit better." He dropped his lips to hers, nearly crying with relief at the feel of her lips moving beneath his. She tasted like strawberries and champagne.
"I love you, Blair," he said, wanting to say it one hundred times more. "I love you and you love me."
She never actually said the words but the feel of her lips touching his again was more than enough. He gathered her in his arms, and she surrendered there. The tough façade of Blair Waldorf had fallen and the girl that he had fallen in love with wriggled in his arms, peppering kisses on his jaw.
"I'm yours, just like I promised," she whispered against his skin, looking into his eyes as she repeated, "I'm yours."
Their lips didn't part until Dorota walked in, hiding a grin as she told her, "Ms. Blair, you must leave for the airport now."
"Okay, thank you, Dorota." Blair wrapped her arms around Chuck's neck, pressing a kiss against the side of his chin. "I have to go."
He could hardly speak as she removed his arms from her waist and zipped up her suitcase. He watched in horror as she dropped her cell phone and wallet into her purse, pulled on her coat, and then turned, looking at him oddly.
"Chuck?"
"You're still leaving," he said. He felt bitter, angry, but his voice sounded utterly pathetic. "I admit that I love you and yet you still leave."
"Chuck, I have to go. My dad-"
"How can you leave? Leave me?"
"Please, don't overreact. I'll be back before you know it."
"That's what they always say before they leave," he muttered, shaking his head. "Don't you know that is what every person says before leaving and never coming back. They say, I'm only having a little vacation and then four years later they are still there with a new life, a new-"
"Chuck, what are you talking about? I'm coming back in a July."
Chuck was so busy ranting that her words didn't register for a good thirty seconds. For that time he stood rooted in his spot, staring at her with a frown.
"Chuck, did you hear me?"
"July, you're coming back in July."
"Yes, July, I need to be back for school in August."
"July," he said slowly, chuckling to himself as he realized that he, Chuck Bass, had been set up. "I can't believe it."
"What?"
"Our little friend Serena Van der Woodsen is the one who sent me here."
"She what?" Blair demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I assure you that the sentiments were all mine," he assured her and she visibly relaxed. "It was Serena who got me here, though. She told me that you were going to stay with your dad for good. She told me that you weren't coming back."
"She-" Blair cut herself off, her lips turning up into a grin. "I forgot how good she was."
"Me, too." He agreed, a bit disgruntled that he had been fooled so easily.
Serena would hold this over him for a long, long time.
But then Blair wrapped her arms around his neck and he came to the conclusion that he didn't care if Serena held it over him for eight five years. It had worked, so why did he care? He had gotten Blair back. She was in his arms and he didn't really care what brought her there.
"Chuck," she asked softly, touching her lips to his, "what are you doing for about the next month?"
"Absolutely nothing," he answered.
"How does France sound?"
"Outstanding."
She kissed him deeply, her lips parting under his.
"I need to go pack," he told her between kisses.
"Alright, go pack. Meet me at the airport in a half hour?"
"I will be there," he promised.
After a quick kiss he left, but not before he heard her say, "You better show up this time."
He went home and packed as quickly as he could, throwing a heap of clothes into a bag and zipping it haphazardly. He could already see that he zipper had snagged on one of his fine Burberry shirts, but he didn't care. All he wanted to do was get to that airport and watch her walk to him, a smile lighting up her round little face.
He left his apartment without a moment's hesitation and hopped into the car, glancing at his watch. He smiled.
This time he would be early.