A/N: I got an idea for this fic (when I should have been writing my other one)... I know lots of people have done the C/B fight thing, but it came to me and you can't fight the muse! Please Read & Review... Let me know if there are more chpt here or not- I haven't decided if this is a one-shot or multi-chpt. Thanks! xoxo

"What is it this time, Blair?" Chuck yells in the middle of his suite, "Did I happen to glance at another woman walking by? Did I embarass you in front of your mother? Did I use the dinner fork instead of the salad fork?" He moves to obstruct her way out.

She squares her shoulders and tries to push past him.

"No," he pulls her wrists into his hands, holding her in place, "Tell me what's wrong!"

"Just let go of me, Chuck!" Blair screams back, attempting to pull herself free.

"Tell me and I will." He reasons.

He was dumbfounded. Lunch with Eleanor and Cyrus had gone off without a hitch or so he thought. He was charming and appropriate, on his best behavior, as promised. But, in the limo on the way back to the hotel, Blair was sullen and refused to hold his hand. She simply crossed her arms against her chest and turned toward the window, effectively shutting him out.

Of course he had asked her what was wrong, but she wouldn't look at him and would mumble a curt, "Nothing, I'm fine."

He rolled his eyes and chalked it up to the infamous Waldorf mood swings. Yet, when they made it up to the suite, she swiftly began gathering any of her belongings she had left there over the course of the last month. Chuck was confused and now he was yelling at her and holding her to prevent her escape. He was going to get an explanation damn it!

"If you have to be told then I'm definitely leaving." she screams back, trying in earnest to free her hands.

Chuck lets go of her wrists, but still holds his position by the door successfully blocking her exit.

"What? Blair I'm not a fucking mind reader! Tell me what's wrong!" Chuck throws his hands up in the air offensively.

"I should've known better than to start anything with you, Chuck Bass!" she spats back angrily.

He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, trying to will away the sudden migraine that over takes him.

They already had this fight twice since the day he said, "I love you". This made number three. He has Tiffany's on speed dial and the "I'm sorry" gifts were becoming a regular occurrence. The make-up sex was incredible though, almost worth the fights themselves.

Chuck mentally kicks himself; he should understand by now that he just can't win with her. And even though it shouldn't be about winning, in his life there is always a game and everyone knows he hates to lose.

"Yes, Blair, I am an awful bastard. But, I am trying here." he allows, his voice dropping from yelling to merely raised.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" Blair challenges, her voice laden with venom, "Did you think I was that stupid?"

"Find out about WHAT?" he says completely exasperated.

"You on a date with the prima ballerina! Asshole!" she argues back, her hands firmly on her hips.

"My what- what in the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't deny it," she rebuffs, pulling her phone from her purse and pressing a few buttons, "I have proof!"

She hurls the phone at him. He catches it awkwardly after it hits his chest hard enough to bruise. He looks at the picture, him with his tongue down the throat of the one and only Bolshoi lead ballerina he had almost slept with twice.

"This picture is months old Blair." he explains, almost relieved to know what was going on; not relieved enough not to wonder who would send Blair that picture, however. He checks to see who sent it and of course it's unknown.

"Right, and you expect me to believe that? You think I'm a moron, don't you?!" she screams back, louder still. She hates when he has a rational explanation for things like this, it makes her blood boil. She figures it was a matter of time before she was made a fool of by that mother-chucker and is simply waiting around for the other shoe to drop.

"I don't think you're a moron," he says in a normal tone, taking one step closer to her, "I do wish you would believe me, though."

"Why should I?" she feels her resolve starting to thin, mostly because he did that thing with his lips where he is kind of smiling, but is still serious. It gets her every time.

"Because I love you," he states, endeavoring to take another step forward, "And it's the truth."

Blair stays where she is, weighing her options. Believe him and get to kiss those lips that are just begging for it. Or, stand firm and go home alone with just her pride to keep her company. Chuck or pride? Pride or Chuck?

"Ask Jenny, she saw me with her at Lily's the night this was taken." Chuck rationalizes, taking another hesitant step toward her.

He takes a final step to closed the gap between them, bringing his hands to her arms.

"Forgiven?" he asks through a smirk.

"Thinking about it." Blair ventures, her tenacity breaking away as his smoldering eyes look into hers.

Chuck huffs a little laugh and touches his forehead to hers. She closes her eyes and lets out a deep breath.

"Sorry," she whispers, "Old habits die hard, you know?" she pauses and puts her hands to his waist, "Forgiven?"

"Thinking about it." he utters, pulling her into his arms and onto his lips.

Ah, now for my favorite part, Chuck thinks to himself while pulling her toward the bed.