(A/N: This is a very nonsensical one-shot I wrote in math class, I'm sorry if it totally doesn't make sense, sounds incomplete, is poorly written, or all of the above. Decided to put it up for fun. Anyway, it's Blair and Serena, completely random, and it's kind of hollow, but I hope you like it.)

"Oh, these pastries are heavenly. Why can't we get something like that in New York?" Blair took a bite of her eclair, it was coated with bittersweet chocolate, with touches of sugar. Sinful, but so worth it. A satisfied smile spread across her face, and Serena couldn't help but break out in laughter. She loved the French pastries, freshly baked from a sidewalk cafe, and the strong coffee they brewed went well with the pastries. The smell of roasted coffee beans filled the air, and it was an amazing experience, the sidewalk cafes in Paris.

"It's the last chance to have them, the only flight I could get was the flight tomorrow noon." She sipped her coffee, as she looked at the crowd that walked past. Most were locals, jabbering away in fluent French, strong and distinct accents. As she took a panoramic glance, she spotted one guy, his back looked oddly familiar. He was asking a local for directions in perfect French, but his foreign accent was obvious. Dressed casually in a v-necked shirt that most Frenchmen favoured on a casual day, with well-tailored pants, he struck an odd figure, leaning on a crutch. His stance, from the side, was very familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.

Turning to Blair, she was hoping Blair would recognise that mystery man. However, Blair had already seen him. Recognised him.

"Chuck? What's he doing here? What's with that crutch?"

Serena did a double take, taking a closer look. Chuck? In France? With a crutch? How could that be? Before she realised it, Blair had walked towards Chuck. Back arched straight, her purse swinging from her arm with a certain finesse, hair flying in the wind, as her heels met the ground forcefully with each step.

Serena slapped a couple of bills onto the table, then rushed after Blair, trying to prevent any rash action that she might take.

"Chuck Bass. What the hell are you doing here?"

Too late. Blair's tone was furious and accusing, her eyes were cold and fierce, and there wasn't anything Serena could do.

He turned around smoothly, still leaning most of his weight on the crutch, and gave them a charming smile.

"Firstly, I'm not Chuck Bass, not related to Chuck Bass. The name's Charles. Charles Belfodil. Secondly, who are you two beautiful ladies?"

He took Blair's hand smoothly and kissed it, as Blair froze, completely shell shocked.

(A/N: Ridiculous, absurd, yes, I know. I don't even know why it's like that. I guess that's what too much math does to your brain. It's so nonsensical I'd expect to get some hate, in fact. Alright, I apologise.)