I honestly should be committed for having three in-progress stories at once, but I can't help myself. This fic is loosely inspired by the Taylor Swift song "State of Grace", hence the title. I heard the lyrics and thought it really fit everything I love about Chair. Oh, and a side note, Dan is the main antagonist in the story. So if there are any huge Dan fans, this really isn't for you. Rated M for language, some mild violence and detailed erotic scenes (duh). Happy reading.
State of Grace
One
"I'm walking fast through the traffic lights, busy streets and busy lives. And all we know is touch and go."
Spotted: Queen B returning from her hot and hazy summer in the Hamptons. We hear that it was nothing for bliss for her and Bad Boy Bass. But if that's the case, why are C&B returning separately?
The sights and sounds of Manhattan might've seemed overbearing to some. But to Blair Waldorf, it just sounded like home. People rushing uptown, people rushing downtown, cab hailing, dogs barking, the subway rumbling underfoot, the cornucopia was music to her ears. It felt good to be home. And not just for the summer. Blair sighed, realizing that she was home for good. The world was officially her oyster, not that it hadn't always been. But she now had a degree in Fashion and Business from Yale, was a member of the Order of the Skull & Bones (not that she was allowed to talk about that) and was about to be groomed to take over her mother's fashion empire, Waldorf Designs.
Yes, life was good. No, life was excellent. She was the quintessential American Princess, about to be crowned. What could be better?
That was the last thought she had before her cell phone rang. She checked the ID and couldn't stop a smile from crossing her face. It was him, her King. "Hi," she said softly.
"Hey, Beautiful," he said in his deep resonant voice. The slightest sound from him sent shivers up and down her spine. There was no doubt in her mind: Charles Bartholomew Bass was made for her. "Where are you," he asked with an eagerness that made her feel all gooey inside.
"I'm almost there," she said. "I can't wait to see you. It seems like it's been ages. Seventy-five hours is really too long to be away from you. But you're the one who had to jet back."
"Bart's orders," he said briefly. "But I promise I'll make it up to you the second you get here."
"Oh, well I guess I better hurry," she said a mischievous edge entering her voice. She hung up her phone and smiled. Life had been good to her. She was born into money, glamour, and prestige. Society went where she willed it. She knew that for the rest of her life she would be a queen. Fortunately, she'd already found her King.
She'd been dating Chuck Bass since she was seventeen. But he'd been in her life for as long as she could remember. There wasn't a time when he wasn't one of her closest friends. Between the two of them, and their other closest friends, Serena van der Woodsen and Nate Archibald, there was a solid bond that had survived a lot.
They'd been a foursome all of their lives. And they wouldn't have it any other way. Carefully, almost as if it had been planned out for them, they took their places among the high school hierarchy.
Serena with her penchant for partying, bong hits and looking perfect without even trying was quickly labeled the It Girl. Girls wanted to be her, guys wanted to have her.
Nate with his Vanderbilt pedigree, fondness for lacrosse, perpetual stoner persona and eerie physical perfection was the Golden Boy. Popular, friends with everyone, envied by all, and a closet brooder.
Blair, with her calculating mind, enormous will and steely resolve established herself as the Queen Bee. Her word was law and to disregard it was social suicide. A lesson many a social climber had learned the hard way. Bow down or bow out, either way the Waldorf ruled.
And Chuck, with his striking good looks, astronomical wealth and his do whatever the fuck I please personality was the Bad Boy. He did whatever he wanted, said whatever he wanted, wore whatever he wanted, took whoever he wanted and dared you to say anything about it.
Despite their differences in personalities, the four of them could always rely on each other. Blair was positive they wouldn't have survived high school without each other.
But she didn't plan on falling in love with Chuck. That had come as quite the surprise. He'd always been there for her, and they always united in a scheme or a game or if they needed to destroy someone. Back then, she didn't know her one and only was right beside her. Nate and Serena, the Golden Couple, had figured it out early: freshman year jumped into bed and hadn't come up for air since.
It had taken her and Chuck a little longer. She smiled, reminiscing about the night she'd given herself to Chuck Bass. But her reverie was interrupted, because she had arrived.
The Hotel Empire, Chuck's training ground. Or as some referred to it, his playground. The Empire had been a high school graduation present from Bart. It was then that everyone realized that Chuck was being groomed, groomed to take over Bass Industries. Some people, Chuck included, thought Bart was out of his mind.
After all, responsibility had never been Chuck's forte. But Bart had witnessed a change in his son, it was subtle at first, but it started becoming more and more noticeable. He'd fallen in love. And that love had taught him to think of others before himself, to be accountable for his actions.
But he still wanted Chuck to start small. Bart was in no hurry to retire and Chuck still had lots to learn. But Chuck had come to Bart with an investment idea, a burlesque club, but an investment idea nonetheless. It took some convincing but Bart finally agreed that it was perfect starting point for his heir apparent. And thus the era of Victrola had begun. Chuck owed that club a lot, but that was another story.
As Blair's Manolos clicked on the shiny floors of the lobby, all the workers stopped and greeted her with a smile. Blair smiled; imagining that this was how Jackie O must've felt like when waltzing through the White House. Everyone knew how to treat the Boss's girl, and if they didn't, well they were out the door.
She took the private elevator up to his suite. She wondered why Bart had called Chuck home early. They had just graduated from Yale, and had spent the summer in the Hamptons. It was bad enough that Nate and Serena had left a week earlier, so for the last three days it had just been Blair all by her lonesome.
Three days without Chuck, she was sure that fell under the category of cruel and unusual. All she wanted to do was be in his arms, feel his lips on hers and just lose herself in everything that was Chuck Bass.
The three and a half minute ride to the top floor seemed to drag on for three and half hours, but finally the elevator dinged to a halt. The doors opened and Blair sighed contentedly, happy to be home, even though she technically didn't live there.
"Bass," she called out as the bellhop pulled her bags off the trolley.
"You might want to be more specific," a familiar and none too pleasant voice called out. Blair turned to see Jack Bass, Chuck's uncle, coming out of the kitchen.
"Jack? What are you doing here?" Blair asked, folding her arms.
"Leaving," Chuck said in an icy tone, as he came up behind Jack. "Jack was just leaving."
Jack rolled his eyes. "We'll defer this 'til later. I'll let you two lovebirds catch up. Southampton looks good on you, Waldorf," he whispered as he brushed past her and out the elevator doors.
"What the hell was that about?" she said once the elevator had gone down. Chuck just shook his head in response.
"The usual Jack Bass bullshit," he murmured. His face slowly turned upwards into a smile as it dawned on him: Blair was home. "You're home," he voiced as he strode towards her, beyond eager to touch her.
He pulled her into his arms and their lips melded into each other without a word. Blair's hands wrapped around his neck, pulling them even closer to each other. She greedily inhaled his aroma, that special scent of pine and musk, cigars and scotch, well-oiled leather and custom-made shirts that was distinctly him.
Meanwhile, Chuck's hands were wasting no time getting reacquainted with every curve and contour of her body. He groped through her trench coat and he didn't think he'd ever hated a garment of clothing so much.
Most reluctantly, Blair pulled away, but only because her lungs demanded it. "Well, hello to you too, Bass," she said huskily as her breathing slowed. He looked at her, drinking in the sight of her beautiful face. Her huge brown eyes glittering with equal parts happiness and lust, and those lips which were now swollen and bruised and looked thoroughly kissed.
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, soft and tenderly. He pulled away and smiled at her. "Welcome home."
"It feels so good to be back. And with you. God, I missed you. It's been way, way too long." They kissed again, unable to stop touching each other even for a second.
"Do you wanna order some food?" Chuck asked in between kisses. Blair could tell that he was only asking out of politeness. She knew that all he really wanted to do was cart her off to his bedroom, and ravish her until she couldn't walk.
And if she didn't know it already, the proof was in hardening arousal, pressing against her thigh and making her somewhat weak in the knees. But she suddenly felt mischievous. She flashed him an all too Blair-esque smile. "Yeah," she said. "I'm feeling rather famished."
Her eyes danced with amusement as his eyes widened at first in disbelief and suddenly in understanding. He knew exactly what she was doing. She pulled herself out of his arms.
"I'll make you a drink," he said, playing along and sauntered off to the bar. God, she could be such a tease when she wanted to be. He downed a glass of scotch before pouring her a glass of champagne, '95 Dom of course. He knew she wanted to play. Three days apart and she wanted to tease him mercilessly. Well, two could play that game. He'd find a way to turn the tables before the night was over.
He came carting another glass of single malt for himself and her champagne. He realized he was going to need it, his mouth went dry at the sight of her. She'd shed her grey Escada trench coat and she had just put the phone down. "Just ordered the food," she said with a knowing look. She could feel Chuck's eyes devouring her.
She was wearing a dark purple Herve Lager minidress. It gripped her like a vise, showing all her curves in the best possible light. Not to mention it was one-shouldered, and with her hair pinned up, the nape of her neck was exposed and to Chuck, it looked liked it was begging to be kissed.
In short, it was a dress to tempt, a dress to allure and then to be ripped off at the height of frustration and desire. Chuck's trousers tightened and his mouth was drier than the Sahara. Damn her, he thought. But I can't say she doesn't know what she's doing.
He approached her, and she was all too satisfied at the look of discomfort on his face. She smiled her infamous doe-eyed innocent smile, like she didn't have a clue the effect she was having on him. Instinctually, he reached for her, forgetting he had two glasses in his hands. She reached for the champagne glass, with the smallest of smirks on her face.
She lifted her glass and proposed a toast. "To us." Their glasses clinked and while Chuck downed his scotch in a single swallow, Blair sipped her champagne slowly, tortuously. Chuck never thought he'd be jealous of a glass, but the glass was touching Blair and he wasn't.
They were standing awfully close and Chuck used his free hand to wrap her arm around his waist. He pulled her flush against him. "Do you have any idea what I want to do to you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.
Blair's breath caught at the feel of his hot breath on her neck. "Tell me," she begged, her voice as strained as his own. He planted a kiss on her neck, sending her pulse racing and a surge of heat to her center. The champagne glass slipped from her hand, crashing onto the floor when his fingers started making their way up her stocking-encased legs.
She always wore thigh-highs, for convenience. He wouldn't have to bother pulling them down her legs. Another reason they were perfect for each other, the only person in the world that was insatiable as him was her
"Do you remember that night in Monaco, when I took you on the pool table?" he whispered as he continued kissing down her neck. His hands eased ever so slowly towards her pulsing heat. She was getting wetter by the second, aching for his touch.
And just as his fingertips reached the bottom of her lace-covered center, the elevator dinged, announcing the room service.
The two sprung apart, cheeks flushed, breathing ragged, panting breaths and flashed looks of supreme aggravation towards the waiter who was only doing his job. The unassuming waiter had no idea what he'd just walked into. "Mr. Bass, Ms. Waldorf, your food," he said with his friendly smile.
Chuck was so eager to get him out of the room he didn't even realize he'd tipped him a $500 bill.
The elevators door shut, and finally, they were alone. Blair had been planning on teasing Chuck for as long as possible, but her desire had gotten the better of her. She yanked him to her by his custom made Turnbull & Asser lavender tie and kissed him greedily. Her need to tease him had gone away almost as quickly as it had come. Her lips devoured his hungrily; she hiked her legs around his waist, feeling his entrapped erection against her pulsing heat. She pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders, longing for the feel of his bare skin.
He backed her into a wall, his hands pushing her dress up inch by inch when…her cell phone rang. Both were immediately determined to ignore it. But Blair realized it was her mother's ringtone. She groaned as she pulled her lips away from Chuck. "It's my mom. If I don't answer, she'll have Dorota send out an A.P.B."
Chuck with an irritated sigh let her go. He wanted her to himself and he wanted her hours ago. She pulled her cell phone out of her clutch which was on the couch. "Mom? Yeah, I just got in. No, I'm at the Empire. Yes, with Charles. Why else would I be here?"
But suddenly a light clicked on in Chuck's head. The perfect way to get her back for torturing him earlier.
Blair leaned against the back of the couch, listening to her mother and trying to think of a way to get her off the phone as quickly as possible. She was half-listening to her mother who was ranting about some drama at the atelier, that she hardly noticed Chuck crouching on his knees in front of her. Her mind, hazy with growing sexual frustration barely felt Chuck pick up her legs and pull them onto his shoulders.
It wasn't until he ripped off her lacy thong with his teeth that she started and yelped. "What are you…?" But the sentence died on her lips as when his hot tongue met her clit. "No, Mother, I'm here," she said her voice shaky. She bit her lips to keep from moaning as Chuck continued to pleasure her into oblivion. His tongue laved over her wet, velvety folds with expert precision. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to make her lose control.
She reached for his head in an attempt to get him to stop, but that only drove him in deeper, and she gasped silently, wrapping her legs around his neck and fisting his hair.
"Blair, darling, are you listening?" asked Eleanor as Blair struggled to keep the phone up to her ear.
"Of course, Mother," she said, trying to sound normal. Blair knew she was about to lose it, her breath was coming in short, hot pants. All it took was Chuck thumbing her clit to send her over the edge. She chomped down on her lips to keep from crying out his name and he greedily lapped up her juices as she came.
"Blair, are you still there?" asked a completely oblivious Eleanor.
"Mom, let me call you back." The phone dropped to parts unknown and Chuck came up for air, with his signature smirk on his face. "You Basstard," she hissed. "My mother nearly heard…"
"Nearly heard you being pleasured until you couldn't take it anymore," he rose up with a smirk, ran his hand through his hair, and wrapped his arms around her. He smirked again. "Eleanor knows you're a big girl."
Blair was about to protest when Chuck stopped her with a kiss. "And I'm through talking for a while," he whispered in her ear.
Before Blair could respond, Chuck had her pinned against the nearest wall, his hands hiking up her dress, her legs wrapping around his waist. In this position, she found herself completely at his mercy, save for her arms which she eagerly wrapped around his neck. She could feel how hard he was, just like he could feel how wet and ready she was.
Her hands dropped from her his neck to his belt buckle which she had undid in a matter of seconds. She freed him of his pants and boxers, his hardness springing free, raging and throbbing.
"Three days really is too long," she whispered as she felt him position himself to enter here.
"Well, if you thought that was long," he said, just letting the head of his member tease the opening of her folds. "You have no idea what you're in for."
"Bass," Blair hissed her voice shaky with need. "Take me now."
He grinned and finally entered her. "With pleasure."
She half-gasped, half-screamed when his manhood parted and stretched her folds to the hilt. Until there was nothing between them but each other.
Her back arched off the wall, pulling them closer together and he groaned at the sensation of his hardness being clenched and squeezed by her tight, nearly resistant flesh. "You're so tight," he moaned.
"Because you're so big." He drew back and plunged in again with one long, slow stroke after another, kneading her breasts as her eyes rolled back from the waves of pleasure each stroke brought. Her legs tightened around him as she felt a surge of heat and energy building up in her.
The friction of his hands through the fabric of her dress on her breasts tingled right through her. "Fuck," she gasped as she squeezed them harder, rougher. His mouth covered hers in an insistent, bruising kiss.
The way her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and the way her breaths were getting shorter and shorter, he knew she was close. The hot surge of energy was growing and growing, getting ready to explode. He broke the kiss to plant a trail of hot kisses down her neck and collarbone. He started thrusting upward, finding her 'G' spot with no difficulty and that was all it took to set her over the edge.
She saw blinding white; felt the energy burst through her as she screamed his name. She clenched around him so tightly that it made him explode, filling her cunt with hot seed, making her shutter with another, smaller orgasm as they came down from their high.
They slumped to the floor, still joined and gasping for air. Their heart slowly stopped racing and their lips met in a soft, loving kiss.
Blair pulled her lips away, her lungs still not recovered. "Do. That. Again."
Chuck couldn't help but grin at her as he felt himself harden inside her. "Oh," she moaned breathily, feeling him internally stretch her.
"Believe me, I plan to," Chuck said, before pulling her under him, and showing her exactly what he meant.
*XOXO*
Hours later, they had somehow made it off of the floor and into the bedroom, a bedroom they hadn't used in nearly three months so they spent plenty of time getting reacquainted.
They laid there, wrapped in imported satin sheets and each other, Blair's hair splayed over Chuck's bare chest, his chest hair gently scraping against her bare skin, causing tingles down her spine. He stroked her ear with his palm, quite content to never leave.
"Hey," Blair said softly, suddenly thoughtful. "You never told me why Bart wanted you to come home early."
"Averted crisis," Chuck explained. "The Village loft project is giving him hell. The Bohos don't want the WASPs gentrifying their neighborhood. They've had like six protests. Of course, everyone has their price. It's what he gets for building below 57th."
"He stressed out?"
"No more than usual. Just Bart being…"
"Bart," Blair concluded as she smiled up at Chuck.
She was happy that their relationship had improved so much. God knew it hadn't been easy. They were both, by nature, emotionally distant. And their relationship had started with more than its fair share of strain. It had taken seventeen years, but the change had finally been brought about. "And Jack?" she asked. "What was that all about?"
Chuck sighed. "I swear he's not happy unless he's starting some shit. He says that that the new hotel my father's opening in Italy is on the site of some historic battle and that once again Bart Bass is not respecting cultural significance."
Blair rolled her eyes. "Well, Bart always says there's a reason he keeps Jack on the other side of the world. You think he'd be happy running Bass Australia."
Chuck planted a kiss on her forehead and stroked her chin. "You should know by now, Basses always want more." He flashed a wicked, wolfish grin before capturing her lips with his own.
"I love you," she told him. She realized she hadn't said since she'd gotten back.
"I love you too," he told her. "More than anything." He held her gaze for a long moment, like there was something he wanted to say, but wasn't going to.
"What is it?" she prodded in usual Blair fashion. If there was one thing she hated, it was being out of the loop. She hated secrets.
He just smiled at her. "It's nothing." The look on her face told her she didn't believe him for an instant, but he insisted that it was nothing.
It was, in fact, something actually, but he couldn't tell her that. The Village loft project had been giving Bart hell, and there had been several protests, but that wasn't the reason Bart called Chuck back. In fact, Bart hadn't called Chuck back early at all.
The reason he'd came back early had nothing to do with Bart or Bass Industries, it was much more romantic in nature…
*Two Days Earlier*
Chuck had stepped out of his limo, a man on a mission. It had been less than two hours earlier, he'd left Blair in a still warm bed. He had most reluctantly pulled himself away from her. It hadn't been easy to leave her, especially when she was undressed and giving him her infamous come-hither look.
Still, this had been a trip of necessity. One he could not take lightly. He'd told Arthur to be on standby, as he would be in and out for the majority of the day. He'd sauntered into the Hotel Empire like he owned the place, which of course, he did.
As soon as his custom Italian leather shoes stepped on the hand-polished tile floor, everyone turned to greet him. Almost everyone had nodded with a curt "Mr. Bass." Whenever he walked through the halls, he commanded respect. He did, after all, sign the paychecks around there.
Buckman had been waiting at the front desk as ordered. "Mr. Charles," the old manservant said with a smile. "Buckman," Chuck returned. "Is everything in order?"
"Practically, sir. Mr. Chuck and Miss Serena are waiting in your suite."
"Did it arrive?"
"No, but the manager said it would be here before 2:30."
"See that it is. Have it sent up to my suite immediately. Did Givenchy finish the resizing?"
"An hour ago, sir. It's in your suite."
"Excellent. The Plaza?"
"Everything is all set. They are arranging the Terrace Room as we speak."
"Wonderful. Thank you, Buckman." Chuck turned to leave and then stopped. "Oh, any messages?"
"There's one from your father. He requests you meet him for drinks at the club tonight around eight. And one from Eleanor Waldorf, the jet is flying her and company in around six."
"Have a car sent for them."
"Right away, sir."
"Thank you as always, Buckman."
Chuck had got on his private elevator, feeling those goddamn butterflies again. He didn't expect to be this nervous. He'd known he was going to do this for a while now. Still, with it now looming over his head, there was that fluttering in his stomach, that all too familiar woozy feeling he had long associated with brown eyes, pearls and peonies.
He wanted everything to be perfect, everything had to be perfect. Everything would be perfect. He was going to make sure of it. After all, he was Chuck Bass.
The elevators doors had opened into his suite to reveal his two closest friends making out on his couch. He'd cleared his throat as loudly as he could. Nate and Serena had sprung apart, not looking the slightest bit shamed. Upper East Siders were low on the shame.
"Really, you two?" Chuck had asked with a slight shake of his head.
Serena rolled her eyes. "Come on, Chuck. I've caught you and Blair doing much worse."
"That's why you knock before you enter a room, sis," Chuck said with a smile. He hadn't seen his stepsister in over a week. "How's Bart & Lil?"
"Bart & Lil," Serena responded. "Getting ready for their annual End of Summer party at the Palace. Driving Eric crazy."
"I'll take him to Gilt later, get him out of there."
Serena had smiled. As far as stepfamilies went, hers was pretty all right. Her mother had married Bart Bass when she was nine. It had been especially good for her little brother, Eric. Eric was naturally introverted, but the unabashedly wild Chuck had gotten him to come out of his shell more and more.
"So, Chuck, what was so urgent that the two of us had to come here?" Nate had asked. They had both been summoned by a cryptic, yet startling message that brooked no refusal. "I mean, is everything all right? You all right?"
Chuck had shrugged. "Well Nathaniel, I hardly know at the moment. The reason I asked you both here is…"
They'd been interrupted by the elevator. A valet had stepped through along with a tall, dark haired man in a custom-tailored dark blue suit. He had a silver briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. Serena had recognized him as Bradley Price, the manager of Harry Winston down on Fifth Avenue.
Nate and Serena had looked back into the elevator and saw two burly men in dark black suits, with earpieces standing at attention. Clearly, they were security. Nate had flashed Serena a look that asked what the hell is going on.
"Mr. Bass," Mr. Price said in a tone that was all business. "Your package." Mr. Price pulled out a small silver key from his pocket and released the cuff from his wrist. He then handed it to Chuck, who handed him a check.
"A pleasure doing business with you," Mr. Price had said. "And I believe you will be most pleased. That piece is my coup de grace. There can be none to rival it. It's c'est magnifique, made for a queen. I've never beheld such a flawless stone."
By this time, Nate and Serena had begun to pick up that Bradley Price wasn't there to deliver another pair of custom cufflinks. After all, the snobbish, nouveau riche manager didn't even attend clients who were buying anything less than fifty grand.
Mr. Price had pocketed the check. "A glorious day to you, Mr. Bass," he'd said with his too wide smile. "And you as well, Mr. Archibald, Ms. van der Woodsen. Mr. Archibald, tell your mother that the earrings I'm designing for her are simply glorious. Good day to you all."
Mr. Price had straightened his perfectly straight Windsor-knotted tie, and turned crisply back towards the elevator, the valet and his security team waiting most patiently.
Once the three had been alone, Serena had pounced. "Ok, what's going on? When I talked to Blair, she said Bart had called you back early on business."
Chuck had shaken his head. "That's just what I told her," he'd said as he placed the silver briefcase on the coffee table. That's when they'd noticed that it had a biometric lock, one that only opened with a fingerprint scan.
"Chuck, what the hell do you have that has to be delivered in a titanium-reinforced bulletproof, biometrically locked briefcase?" a beyond bemused Nate had asked in the same tone he often asked Chuck if he wanted a beer.
Chuck had just smiled ambiguously and placed his thumb on the scan. A series of clicks announced that the briefcase was unlocked. Chuck had pulled out a telltale black velvet box and placed it on the table. He'd taken the briefcase off the table and put it aside. He'd opened the box and a light crossed his face for a second. He smiled, trying to picture her face. He'd turned the box forward to reveal to Nate and Serena the most beautiful, the most flawless diamond ring they'd ever beheld.
"This is why I asked you both here today," he'd explained. "In two days, Blair's coming home. And the day after that, I'm going to propose."
Serena's face had gone from surprised to delighted in a manner of seconds. Before Chuck had known it, she'd thrown her arms around his neck. "Ohmigod! Ohmigod!" she'd said over and over again.
When she'd calmed down, she'd taken the box from his hand. "Wow, it's beautiful. What is it, six carats?"
"Eight," Chuck had corrected her. "Eight flawless, colorless, cushion-cut carats set in pure platinum. I personally picked the stone it was carved from. A twenty carat masterpiece discovered in Morocco. I'm having the remaining 12 carats turned into matching earrings."
"Oh, my God, B's going to love it! She's going to freak. How long have you been planning this?" Everyone knew that Serena van der Woodsen was easily excited, not to mention a hopeless romantic so Chuck had figured she'd be absolutely thrilled.
Nate, who had been no less excited, but much quieter, just smiled. "Wow," he said as he stood up to get a closer look at the ring. "How long have you been planning this?"
Chuck shrugged. "I knew I wanted to propose after graduation. But I just started planning the whole thing about a month ago. Remember when I had to fly to Monaco suddenly? Well I didn't actually go. I went to see the Waldorf-Rose clan. Get their permission. They're flying in tonight."
Serena squealed with delight, she was so happy, one might've thought it was her about to get married. "Ok, so what do you need us to do? We are at your full service. I just can't wait to see that look on Blair's face."
The smile Chuck gave his sister said that he couldn't wait either.
"Well, there's a lot to do," he said. "Um, so basically when she gets here, I'm going to tell her that I've planned a special night for our first night back in the city. Tell her to meet me at the Plaza. I've booked the Terrace Room for this. What I really need you guys to do is to get everyone there. All of our friends and family. I've already got a reporter from the Times Society Page coming. And most importantly, not breathe a word to Blair."
Serena and Nate had given their word they their lips were sealed. But Serena had been just bursting with excitement, she could hardly contain her joy. "She's going to be so happy," she had kept saying. "She's going to be so happy." Chuck certainly hoped she was right.
Five hours later, Chuck had been sitting at the club, waiting for his father to arrive. Bart had strolled in, uncharacteristically early, with a small smile on his face. "Son, good to see you," he'd said pulling Chuck in for the slightest of embraces.
Everyone knew that Basses weren't big on public displays of affection, especially not with each other.
Chuck had ordered his second scotch and Bart ordered his first. "So, Father, what did you want to talk about? Is anything wrong?"
"Nothing more than usual. How is Blair?"
"She's fine, catching up with Serena. How's Lily?"
"Very well, thank you. She's getting ready for your party at the Plaza. So it's all settled then? You're really going to ask her?"
"Are you surprised?"
"Yes and no. I'm surprised that you're doing it so soon after graduation. But am I surprised you're asking Blair Waldorf to marry you? About as surprised as I was that the sun came up this morning. Anyone who looks at the two of you can see you're absolutely…smitten."
Chuck had shrugged, not wanting to believe it was that obvious. Then again, he didn't care. He was Chuck Bass. "Well, I'm going to ask her. The day after tomorrow, everything's in motion. No going back."
Bart smiled. "I'm proud of you, son."
"Dad, you don't have to…"
"No, I mean it. You've done very well these last few years. Graduating from Yale, the Empire is doing really well, Victrola is one of the best night spots in town. And now, marriage. If someone had told me all this would happen when you were sixteen, well I would've laughed."
"So would I," Chuck commented. He wasn't ashamed of who he'd been, underage boozer and womanizer with a brooding spirit. But that was past. Once he had Blair, there was simply no one else.
Bart looked fondly at his son. "Your mother would be proud of you, of who you've become. I just wish she was here."
Chuck nodded. "So do I."
"Well, let's not lament over that. This is a time for celebration. Oh, and once the festivities are over, we have to have a serious conversation. Something alarming that Jack brought to my attention."
"Do we have anything to worry about?"
"Not yet."
*Present Day*
Blair's manicured hand slammed down on the alarm clock. Beauty rest was essential to Waldorf women, especially those who had very long, long nights. Blair wanted to stay in bed, holding on to the memory of the night before, the way his hands had roamed over her body, the way his teeth had grazed her flesh. She could still feel his warmth encircling her.
But staying in bed wasn't an option, it seemed. Her phone buzzed with life, making her remember that she things to do. She looked at her screen and realized it was just a Gossip Girl blast: Spotted: S at Bendel's picking out a gown. But since when does S go shopping without B? And for what does she need black tie? Shouldn't someone tell Ms. van der Woodsen that the fall season hasn't even begun?
Serena? Shopping? For what? It left nothing but questions in Blair's mind. They didn't have anything coming up, except for the van der Bass annual End of Summer Party and that wasn't for two weeks and they already had their dresses for that.
She looked over at the empty space besides her. If she laid her head there, she could get a faint whiff of his cologne. Where had he gone, she bemoaned to herself. She knew he had a hotel to run and things to do and people to see. Still, she wouldn't have minded him waking her up.
There was a note stuck under an empty shot glass on her bedside table: B, I had to run. Meeting with staff. Meet you for lunch. XXX.-C.
That was when she noticed the time, it was already 11:45. She hadn't meant to sleep that late. But she certainly needed to regain her strength. Where Chuck got all the energy, she didn't know. But if she was going to meet him for lunch, she was going to have to make herself presentable.
She almost didn't want to shower, didn't want to wash away his scent from her body. Sometimes she hated how crazy she was about him, how much power he had over her. He saw right through her, straight to her core. He could see pass the cool exterior and into the raging fire below. He knew how insecure she could be, he know how she was constantly striving for perfection. Secretly, he thought it was unnecessary. To him, she was already perfect. It was aggravating to be with someone you couldn't fool. Yet, at the same time, it was the easiest thing in the world. With Chuck, she could be vulnerable. She could have her guard up, let her hair down and let loose. But to him and to him only.
With everyone else, she had to be poised, refined, regal with a steely resolve that no one could undermine. She had to be strong, powerful and firm. Not that it was all an act, but the only person Blair trusted enough to be uninhibited around was him.
Not that it didn't go both ways, God knew she was the only woman who was going to challenge him, never concede to him, put up with all his brooding and look good doing it. Chuck wasn't a picnic, far from it. But Blair saw past the soulless, nonchalant front he'd perfected his whole life. She knew just how deeply he could feel.
These were the thoughts filling her head as she got ready for their late lunch. She had just finished putting on a dark green D&G sheath dress when the elevators dinged, announcing his arrival.
"Blair," he said stepping into the bedroom. "Sorry, I took off this morning." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. He pushed her hair to one side and kissed the newly exposed nape of her neck. "God, you smell fantastic."
Blair melted back into him, head against his shoulder as his hands surveyed her body, lips kissing down her neck to the top of her shoulder where his teeth nipped at her skin. He was fighting every urge to bend her over and take her from behind. And as much as he wanted her, he knew this particular escapade was going to have to be deferred.
She turned her head and lifting his head from her shoulder to his lips, she wrapped him in a searing kiss. Chuck felt himself hardening and knew that he had to stop this train before it left the station. He mustered every ounce of will power he had and pulled away. "We should slow down."
Blair shot him the most incredulous look. "We should?" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief and barely restrained lust.
He nodded like he was trying to convince himself more than her. "If we start now, we're not going to stop, for a while. And I'm on a time crunch."
She just shook her head, resigned. "You're insatiable, Bass."
"You're addictive, Waldorf." He kissed her lightly. "And I have a surprise for you."
Blair's lust could only be quelled by her curiosity. She loved surprises, especially from Chuck, usually because they came in Tiffany's boxes.
He walked over to the closet and pulled out a white box that could only be holding some kind of clothing. Blair loved where this was going. The white box had the word Givenchy inscribed on it. She loved it even more. Her hands ached to know what was inside. Chuck always gave the best presents.
He handed it to her and watched her all too eager face light up as she quickly undid the silk bow and lifted the box top. Her mouth dropped in wonderstruck awe. "Oh," was all she said. She couldn't believe it. "It looks like the dress from Sabrina. You had this made?"
Chuck shook his head. "No, it's the actual dress. I had Givenchy resize it, especially for you." Blair didn't know if she could find the words to express. The dress was beautiful: white, strapless, adorned with the most gorgeous pattern of black lace. Not to mention, it was the dress that had turned Audrey Hepburn into a style icon.
Blair pulled it completely out of the box, just to look at it. The fact that it was 50 years old didn't matter. It was probably the most touching, the most thoughtful gift anyone had gotten her. She placed it ever so carefully on the bed and leaped into Chuck's arms.
She kissed him as hard as she could. "Thank you." Another kiss. "Thank you." Kiss again. "Thank you." Kiss the third. With the fourth, she didn't pull away just held his lips for a long moment. "I love it," she told him when they broke apart.
He smiled. "Good. I was hoping you'd wear it tonight."
A shadow of confusion crossed her face. "Tonight? Are we doing something tonight?"
"That's the second part of the surprise," he told her. "I've got something special planned for tonight."
"Well, why tonight?"
"Why not? Will you do me the honor of meeting me at the Plaza tonight at 7:30, in the Terrace Room?"
"First the dress, then the Plaza? What's going on, Bass?"
"Is that a yes?"
"Of course it's a yes. But you can't expect me to not want to know…" He silenced her with a kiss.
"The only way to find out is to be there. The limo will pick you up at 7:00." He kissed her again. "Now I've got a slew of meetings that I can't be late for. So, I'll see you tonight?" He kissed her one last time, and he took his leave.
As soon as the elevators doors had shut, Blair had whipped out her cell phone and was dialing Nate's number. It went straight to voicemail. "Archibald, what's the deal with this surprise of Chuck's? I know you know. Call me back."
Hours later, Blair sat in the back of the limo, flummoxed as could be. Nate never called her back, which was not like him. Serena was nowhere to be found either. Their phones were off, they weren't at home. Gossip Girl hadn't even spotted them all day. And that never happened.
She'd been sitting in suspense for hours, spinning her wheels trying to figure out what the hell is going on. By now, she knew something was going on. And she figured she was the last to know, a position she hated to be in. What was Chuck up to? What could he possibly be planning? Besides, how was he going to top the present he'd just given her? She looked down at the dress she was wearing and beamed. It was too surreal.
She couldn't stay mad at him for keeping in the dark, not when he'd given her the best present in the world. But clearly, there was tons of duplicity going on. She couldn't reach Nate, she couldn't reach Serena, even her mother wasn't answering her phone, but she was sure that was unrelated. She'd gone by the van der Bass apartment to try to squeeze information out of Lily.
But Lily wasn't home, and the housekeepers didn't know where she was. Blair knew that was a bald face lie. This was the Upper East Side, the housekeepers knew EVERYTHING.
Arthur too was in on it. He'd been cordial as always, but Blair started firing questions at him and he turned to stone. She should've expected as much. Arthur knew things about her she would gladly pay to have kept quiet. But he, like all members of the help, knew better than to ask questions.
When they arrived at the Plaza, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The hotel was glittering and opulent as usual. Blair lifted her skirts in a very ladylike fashion. She didn't want anything to ruin her dress. She should've enlisted some handmaidens to help with it. But she had been too busy scheming to know what was waiting for her on the other side of the door of the Terrace Room.
Blair knew the room well, she'd been there for many a grand party throughout her life. Her and her Nana Waldorf used to meet every Tuesday morning for tea. Still, the moment she walked in, she sensed something was different, but she didn't know what. The pristine chandeliers caught the light like they had been doing for over 100 years. The pale gold color palette made one want to cry the way it had been doing for over 100 years. And at the very back of the room, dressed in a custom, but classic Valentino tux was Charles Bass.
He held out his hand for her to join him and she approached slowly, all of sudden feeling nervous. She walked pass the terraces, and for a moment, she thought she heard something, something like someone holding their breath, but she pushed that thought aside.
She took his hand and they stood their for a few moments, just savoring the sight of each you, her eyes filled with a thousand questions, his with a thousand nerves. "You look lovely," he told her. He kissed her cheek so softly it was like a cloud had just touched her.
"Chuck," she said, her curiosity getting the best of her. "What's going on?"
He looked at her, then looked away, then took a deep breath as he met her eyes again. "You know I love you, right?" he asked, his eyes pouring into hers.
"Of course."
"Good. Because I do. I love you more than anything. And every time I look at you, every time we're together, nothing else matters. Nothing can wrong as long as we're together. And I feel like that, if, if we're together, nothing ever will be really wrong. How could it be when I have you?"
He paused and Blair could feel her heart pounding. Is he going to…No, he can't be, can he? Her brain was going a million miles a minute.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We're Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck. And that's the way I want it to be now and always. Life with you is the most exciting thing, it could never be boring or redundant. So I guess I better get to the point here." He dropped to one knee and Blair felt her breath catch. "So Blair Cornelia Waldorf, four words, fourteen letters: will you marry me?" He held up the most magnificent, the most glorious diamond ring she'd ever seen.
Blair could feel the tears welling up in her eyes; she fought to find her voice. She was so stunned she couldn't speak. But then she looked into Chuck's hopeful eyes and…
"Yes. Yes! A hundred times, yes!" It one swift motion, he was on his feet, placing the ring on her finger and kissing her breathless.
Her hands wrapped around his neck, perfectly content to never let this moment end. But when they finally pulled away, he gently cupped her face and wiped the tears from her eyes. And that was when the applause started.
Blair turned, startled, to see practically everyone she ever knew. Her parents, all four of them, Bart and Lily, Serena and Nate, even her high school minions, not to mention Mark Lyle, New York Times Society Reporter had came out from their hidden perches.
On cue, a waiter appeared with two glasses of champagne for the happy couple. "To Blair and Chuck," Serena called out, unable to contain her glee.
"To Blair and Chuck," everyone chimed in.
"I can't believe it," Blair said, still not fully recovered from the shock. "I can't believe it." Tears filled her eyes again and she looked at her mother, who was almost as teary-eyed as herself.
And then the congratulations started pouring in. Everyone was hugging, crying, laughing. It was really the perfect moment. And it wasn't long before Gossip Girl was spreading the news all abroad: This just in Upper East Siders, C has popped the question to our very own B. Guess it was only natural after he popped her cherry. And with the Houses of Bass and Waldorf uniting, it's bound to be the Wedding of the Century. And you know who loves weddings? Gossip Girl. You know you love me. XOXO.-Gossip Girl.
Blair felt like she was on Cloud 99, and that nothing could take away her happiness.
Little did she know, plenty of people would soon try to.
What do you think? Worth continuing? R&R please. I hope to update once a month. But No Promises.