White Christmas
Merry and Bright
Blair exhaled slowly as she stood in front of the Bass Industries building, her eyes moving higher and higher. Gathering her composure, she smoothed the front of her coat as she stared at the main doors. Her heart beat rapidly underneath Chantelle, Dior and Valentino as her hand met the door. The door he walked through everyday. Her heart was be beating wildly with anticipation, but her mind was screaming at her. Wrong. She had been so wrong, from the very beginning.
There was security in front of the bank of elevators. Her nerves giving away, she ducked into a waiting area off to the side. She could not do it- she could not do this. What would she say? What could she say? That she had been a fool. A fool, because love makes a fool of all of us. She thought of the look on his face when she had seen him yesterday. "Chuck..." she murmured, her eyes unfocused as she stared down at the patterned tile floor.
A female security guard politely poked her head around the corner to check on their visitor. This close to the holidays the building was not as busy, and Blair's presence, standing there nervously was very obvious. Stepping into the space, she softly asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"
But there was a commotion; a fury of long black Armani wool, his collar popped up to meet his neatly cut hair, as he talked on his phone. Both Blair and the guard, stood off to the side, out of his notice, watching him leave the building and slip into a waiting town car. Blair dared not breathe, scared he might sense her, only exhaling when the car had pulled away.
"Miss?" The guard broke the silence. Blair gave her a small smile.
"No, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Now is not the time for this."
But there was a time. And a place. And she needed to rush home and pack.
A number of years prior, in a very different place.
What… was I thinking? He wondered for the umpteenth time this week as he stepped outside. Chuck Bass, at an all-boys college. He began strolling across the campus from his dormitory and recalled that he knew perfectly well what he had been thinking when he accepted his admission.
It had always been what his mother wanted for him. She had passed away when he was in that troubled age between child and teenager, but his memories of her were bright and deeply cherished. She was the first and foremost reason he was here; Evelyn Bass had always been decided on the fact that Hampden-Sydney College was one of the last bastions where gentlemen were created. The second reason was his father. Chuck had fully embraced his youth and riches, doing the hard earned titled of 'playboy' proud- but not his father. So by attending a serious school, and one not of the coeducational persuasion, Chuck both honored the memory of his mother and for once heard his father honestly say that he was proud of him.
The campus was beautiful, but it was still culture shock for Chuck when compared to life in New York City. It was so quiet and calm; the nearest decently major city was hours away. The nearest airport was in… Farmville. These all spurred Chuck to seek out some means of entertainment before he went mad.
So began Rush Week. It did not take a great deal of research before Chuck found his ideal home. Kappa Alpha's motto rather said it all: Dieu et les Dames, God and the ladies. There was a strong focus on leadership, and they upheld the ideals of chivalry and the values of gentlemen. Chuck imagined his mother would approve of that. He ambled up to the Kappa house and was instantly greeted by the members and other rushers. He settled into conversation with a shaggy dirty blond and fellow New Yorker named Nathaniel Archibald.
"Tell me Nathaniel-"
"-Nate," the blond cut in.
"Nathaniel," Chuck continued, "how did you come to attend Hampden-Sydney?"
"To one up my father. He only went to Dartmouth because he couldn't get in here; plus, it made Mom, and all of the family, happy. I have to say, I never thought my first conversation with Chuck Bass would be in the middle of nowhere, Virginia." Nate shook his head, mussing his hair even more.
"I wondered if my reputation would follow me this far," Chuck mused.
"You're Chuck Bass." Nate grinned.
"Indeed I am." Chuck offered a lazy smile in return.
There was a full week of activities planned, and it helped time move faster for Chuck, in this strange place devoid of crowds and traffic and bright lights at night. He enjoyed getting to know Nate more and they even shared the same history class. In fact, Dr. Waverly, who taught their history class, was also the Kappa's faculty advisor.
"Whether you are intending to study law, medicine, business, or literature, the pages of history have much to teach you." The professor was tall, his hair rather grey, and he sported the terribly ironic tweed sport coat with patches on the elbows, "Not just your careers, but your lives will present you with infinite choices. By studying the choices of the past, you can avoid mistakes, learn to think strategically, and make the most of what this life will hand you."
Walking out of the lecture, Nate commented, "Well, he's no ordinary professor, is he? I hated history class before."
"Me too," Chuck seconded, "This could actually be interesting."
They ambled along together, talking about the syllabus and the course structure. As they came to part ways, Chuck asked, "Ready for paintball against the brothers this weekend?"
Nate laughed, "I know I am, but aren't you worried about getting paint in your hair?"
Chuck grinned at his friend, "As though you are one to be talking."
It was a cool morning that Saturday when the Kappa brothers took the field against the pledge class. Chuck dumped purple paint into his gun while Nate did the same with a rich golden paint, each wondering at the other's color choice.
"Purple?" Nate asked.
"Royalty," Chuck replied, "Yellow?"
"I was the 'golden boy' in school. It seemed appropriate." Nate shrugged.
As the boys huddled, Nate was suddenly proud of the hours he wasted on his Xbox playing Call of Duty, Halo, and Gears of War. They laid out a strategy, and Nate and Chuck stuck close, watching each other's backs. They successfully took down several brothers with their teamwork.
Chuck was scouting when Nate caught sight of an opponent preparing to shoot at Chuck. His gun blazing, Nate pushed Chuck aside, out of the line of fire. Nate had taken out the shooter and saved Chuck, but his leg had cracked against a fallen tree in the process and he fell over it, landing hard on his right arm.
"Nate!" Chuck rushed to him.
Nate sat up, a lopsided grin on his face. His shirtsleeve was torn and his arm was scratched up and bleeding. "Ah, this is nothing compared to lacrosse."
Chuck removed the stylish bandana he had tied around his neck. He tied it around Nate's arm, "Are you sure you didn't break anything? We should pull back and have it looked at." Chuck was horrified by the nasty fall. That Nate had been injured trying to protect him? No one had ever done such a thing for him before.
"No, it's fine, it's fine!" Nate shook his head a moment before he leaned against Chuck to stand, "Onward to the fight!"
Luckily, the fight ended ten minutes later. The nurse berated Nate's brazenness, bandaging him up properly, and putting his arm in a sling.
Later that night, Chuck came by Nate's room with a couple of contraband bottles of beer. "I came to check on the invalid."
"It's not so bad," Nate offered, softly touching his arm and making a face. He gratefully accepted the beer, "Anyways, we won!"
They toasted to the victory and took a drink. Chuck pulled a face, "I can't believe I'm risking under age drinking for this."
Nate laughed, "For a minute there I almost forgot you were Chuck Bass!"
"True, this is hardly the worst thing I've ever done." Chuck smirked. He and Nate passed the time together recalling life in New York and the wild things they would get up to when no one was watching. When the hour grew late, Chuck went to depart. "Nathaniel, I… I've never had anyone do what you did for me today. If you should ever need something from me, all you need to do is ask."
"Actually…"
Chuck quirked an eyebrow at his savior.
"I have my eye on a summer internship in the legal department… at Bass Industries. It's not government like my mother's family and it's not banking like my father. And… it's Bass Industries. Just, put in a word for me, that's not too much, is it?"
Nate looked up at him with those giant blue eyes and held his wounded arm. It was all Chuck could do to not groan and roll his eyes. He never knew Nate had such a dramatic streak in him. But it was so little in Chuck's mind compared to what Nate had done.
"Apply, write a good essay. But it's yours. Don't make me look bad- I'll be there, too, so I'll know if you mess around with any of the staff, Mr. Archibald." Chuck half grinned, "After all, I'm Chuck Bass."
Chuck and Nate became members of Kappa Alpha and Nate manipulated Chuck into being study partners for Waverly's history class just by patting his wounded arm. The professor made history interesting, exciting, and everyone in the course worked hard to gain not just a good grade, but also his respect.
The time that the two boys spent together at Hampden-Sydney passed quickly between Kappa house and their course work. Dr. Waverly was their fixed point throughout, constantly offering guidance and advice. The professor was always good for a story, a reminder that great men of the past struggled with the same sorts of problems as students today. Sandwiched between their studies, Nate and Chuck spent holidays back in New York. During the day, they worked for Bass Industries, and at night they ruled the clubs, working off the obvious frustrations that arise from attending an all-boys college.
In hindsight, their years there would feel slower and more peaceful than the ones that followed. Their post-graduate programs were exhausting even though both of them excelled in their course work. They spent their summers together working at Bass Industries, a tentative partnership of sorts forming between them. All Nate needed do to win over his ideas was touch that once long ago wounded arm, but Chuck never came to regret listening to his friend. Nate's ideas kept him busy and he thrived in his work. Chuck's appetite for hard work- the satisfaction it gave him, the satisfaction of making his father proud, slowly began to affect his once carefree lifestyle. He no longer had the time, or inclination, to drink excessively, party all night, or move from girl to girl.
When Nate graduated and passed the Bar, there was little question where he would work. Chuck had come to work under his father, and Nate was Chuck's liaison in the legal department. It was a charmed existence; so much success so early in their lives. Yes, they had worked hard, but life had yet to throw them any curve balls.
Nate was entertaining two young ladies in his office as he wrapped up for the evening. He smiled when he saw Chuck in the doorway, "Chuck! I'd like you to meet Hazel and Juliet."
Chuck held back a sigh. Neither of the girls was at all appealing, even less so when they opened their mouths to greet him. He wondered why Nate was always doing this to him. He had little time or interest in women recently beyond social events and the… necessary distraction on occasion.
"We were just heading out for drinks, it's happy hour after all." Nate beamed at him.
"I just came to pick up the new contracts, late night I'm afraid. I have a conference call with Tokyo in half an hour. Another time, ladies?" Chuck feigned his regret.
"Oh, the contracts are in Colin's office, let me get them." Nate dashed out, leaving Chuck with the girls, who gazed at him like a favorite piece of candy. Just then, his phone rang- it was Bart's secretary. Saved! He turned towards the doorway, "Sorry, I need to take this one privately."
Serena glanced up at her friend and partner as she folded the piece of stationery on her desk. Blair was chatting furiously with one of their contractors. It made Serena glad that Blair handled the business side of their public relations firm and she was left to handle the clientele. She slipped the page into an envelope, double checking the return address, before casually burying it in the pile of outgoing mail. Heaven forbid Blair even suspected she was up to anything, nevertheless spot the envelope addressed to one Charles Bass of Bass Industries.
Unbeknownst to them all, these simple actions- a phone call and a letter, would come to drastically change all of their lives.
A/N: My brain is still quite fatigued from completing Love You Some Day. However, I thought this story would be a fun challenge, and not too too much work. So I give you a holiday story to fluff up our ship after the first half of season five: Gossip Girl's Non-Judgmental Breakfast Club meet Irving Berlin's White Christmas. Will you join me on this journey, and see how I reconciled a movie from 1954 with our beloved NJBC?
Gobs of love to Georgia, my poor poor editor, I can never ever repay you my dear! To GGFan73104, Alyssa, I can't really imagine writing without you anymore. You're the kind of friend and reader everyone dreams of having. And last, but hardly least, Sabrina Fairchild, who has been instrumental in her support and patience in helping me develop the story, and reconciling two very different worlds! This story would not be without you three wonderful women. xoxo
Now please take a moment to let me know what you thought of our efforts? It's going to be quite fluffy, but I always live up to my M ratings in the end -_^
