"Oof!" Nate Archibald fell to the ground, watching the two giggling girls run away from him. "What'd she do that for?" He wiped his hands as he struggled to his feet.

Charles Bass smirked at him, amused to see his friend looking so roughed up. "I don't know. Girls are weird."

The two 7-year olds were at recess and it had not gotten off to a good start. As they had walked across the blacktop to the tetherball courts, two girls from Constance Billiard had run up to them and started speaking with Nate. All shy smiles and giggles, the girls had seemed perfectly harmless-- that is, until one of the girls had pushed poor Nate to the ground before turning and fleeing in the opposite direction.

Now, as the two first graders continued to the tetherball courts, they tried to figure out what poor little Nate's offense had possibly been. They were still discussing it as they waited their turn for tetherball when a familiar voice spoke up. "You can't possibly be that clueless!" They turned to see fourth-grader Carter Baizen standing two spaces ahead. The boys stared back-- sweet little Nate, expression blank as usual, and Charles, expression guarded.

"What are you talking about?" Charles asked, using his best Bart Bass impression, hoping his father's confident speaking style would help him overcome the nerves the younger boy felt when confronted by an older classmate.

"The girls, dummies," Carter laughed at them. "The reason they pushed Nate is cause they like him. It's, like, the code." Carter rolled his eyes. First graders were such babies!

"What are you talking about," Nate asked, still confused.

"It's simple," Carter replied, as Henry Pertwill was taken out by Alaister Barkley and the line moved forward yet again. "When a girl likes you, or you like a girl, the way you tell them is by pushing them or pulling their hair or doing something else mean. It's what everyone does."

Nate, who had never once thought to be unjustly cruel and had never even bumped into a girl by accident, let alone pushed one down on purpose, looked positively horrified. "That's terrible. Why would you want to do something like that?"

Young Charles, who had spent many evenings in the penthouse he shared with his father watching the various courses of love and how they ran, rolled his eyes. He'd seen his father romance many women, and there was absolutely no truth in what this older boy claimed to know. "Don't listen to him, Nathaniel!" Charles grabbed his best friend's arm. "He doesn't know what he's talking about."

Carter shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself," he called, as Alaister Reylonds took out young Robert Halliwell and Carter's turn came. "But that's the way it works."

As Nate turned to Charles and began to discuss his weekend trip upstate with his mother and father, Charles began to look around the playground. Children everywhere were laughing and playing, chasing and hiding, swinging and sliding. He watched as a group of fifth grade boys played dodge ball in the grass. He noticed the groups of girls sitting in various areas of the play area-- chatting and gossipy. Ridiculous.

Though he'd never admit to actively looking for her, one young first grade girl caught his eye. Blair Waldorf had been in his class in kindergarten, before they all enrolled in St. Jude's and Constance Billiard. They hadn't spoken much to each other, but he couldn't help looking at her while they were in class. She had the shiniest hair of all the girls. He thought her long, brown curls were by far the best of everyone's, even if Nathaniel seemed so enamored of her friend Serena's bland yellow curls.

He also liked that, like him, she seemed to care about what his father called "an awareness of personal hygiene." They had sat together last year in the reading room, when both of them had refused to participate in finger-painting. Who in the world would think that getting your hands messy with paint and risking ruining your clothes would be fun? Certainly not Charles Bartholomew Bass. And apparently, neither did Blair Waldorf. He admired her for it. Of course, Nathaniel didn't agree and Charles had a hard time dealing with the ride home on the bus sitting next to his paint covered friend, who had apparently gotten into a paint war with Serena Van der Woodsen, who, he had noticed, was similarly . . . . paint drenched.

Now, as he watched the prim and proper Ms. Waldorf munch on a bag of carrots and smile politely as Serena and their friends laughed and yelled loudly while sitting on the planter, he couldn't help but smile quietly to himself. Pushing a girl down? How ridiculous.

As the bell rang and Nate complained loudly that once again they had not gotten a turn at tetherball, Charles turned once again and glanced at the young girl with the brown curls pushed back by a violet headband. Yeah. . . . Ridiculous.

****

Over the next few days, Charles became more and more aware of all that was going on around him. "Maybe Carter was right," he thought to himself as he watched Davis Kennedy pull Lila Owens braided pigtails and run away laughing.

Looking away from the monkey bars, where Allison Wentworth had knocked Parker Lemmings over with a flirtatious smile, Nate faced his friend. "Maybe Carter was right," he voiced aloud as the thought once again went through Charles' head.

"Don't be ridiculous, Nathaniel," Charles dismissed as they walked across the blacktop to the tetherball courts once again. "I'm telling you, the very idea that you would push someone down because you like them is so dumb."

"It's just--," Nate began as he watched yet another random act of violence committed, just perhaps, in the name of love, across the playground.

"It's just nothing," Charles interrupted. "Listen. My father has been with thousands of girls-- or women-- or whatever. Like, thousands, okay? I think I know what I'm talking about because, believe me, he doesn't ever push them down, or pull their hair, or even yell at them. He kind of. . . . whispers and stuff."

Nate nodded his head. It made sense. Charles' father did know a lot about women. Nate had seen so many come and go at the Bass penthouse that he had lost count long ago. Still, you couldn't help but notice that with all the pushing and the pulling and the chasing and the hiding, the giggles did outnumber the tears. That had to mean something, right?

Charles sighed as the bell rang-- signaling their lost chance at playing tetherball yet again.

As the two boys headed back to class, Charles caught sight of a flurry of yellow. It was that Blair girl again. Her yellow and white sundress was floating about in the mid-morning breeze and she was giggling with Serena and the rest of the girls. Something caught in his stomach as she looked up and met his eyes at just that moment. He smirked at her before turning away and walking into the hall towards their class.

****

He felt like he was noticing her more and more lately. That was odd. Sure, he used to think about her in kindergarten-- she was there all of the time-- but why now? Why would he find himself looking for her every day in the tetherball line when she had no purpose in his life?

Every day, as Nate talked endlessly of soccer practice and camping with his uncles and the karate class his mother refused to let him join, Charles concentrated on keeping his eyes on the tetherball match. One day, he'd get to the front of the line before recess was over. One day, he'd get his chance. He needed to be ready, he needed to concentrate on the game--

Yet here he was again, in line for the game that never came, and there she was as well-- sitting in one of her many pretty dresses, laughing and talking with her friends, her curls shiny and bouncing, her legs pulled up in a lady-like way. He couldn't look away from the pretty picture she made.

"What are you staring at?" Nate suddenly noticed, trying to follow Charles' line of sight.

The deep breath he had taken released as the bell rang again, distracting Nate, who muttered angrily to himself about the lack of enough tetherball courts.

Charles tried to avert his eyes as the curls bounced away.

****

It had become a new routine.

Everyday, in the tetherball line, Charles waited in line to play, listened to Nate prattle on endlessly about everything under the sun and watched the little brunette named Blair across the playground. He couldn't ever seem to look away.

He liked the way her headband always matched her sundress. He liked the way her shoes were always sparkling white and clean, despite the dirtiness of the playground around them. He liked the way she always had her bag of carrots and always ate them slowly throughout recess before placing them carefully back into her bag and heading to class.

As the bell rang, and he and Nate headed towards the hall that lead to their classroom, Charles once again thought about Carter Baizen's words. He turned around and watched as Blair and her friends finished collecting their things and headed into their own hall.

He shook his head.

"Ridiculous."

****

It was two weeks before the end of school and Nate and Charles were once again in the tetherball line. This time, as Charles waited and listened and watched in his usual routine, something caught his ear.

"…and my Mom said that I should talk to them, and I haven't seen them since kindergarten but Serena was always nice and I guess Blair's okay, when she's not fluttering her eyelashes all crazy, so I walked over--"

Charles turned to his friend. "What did you just say?" he asked with more force than would be expected in what Nate felt was a casual conversation.

"I said I saw Serena and Blair in Central Park with Blair's nanny after soccer practice the other day and my mom said I should say hi, because it's polite and so I did and--"

"Blair Waldorf?" Charles asked.

Nate looked at his friend as if he'd suddenly grown a second head. "Um, yeah. From kindergarten. Remember?" He gestured to the other side of the playground. "There they are over there."

"Yeah, I remember," Charles grumbled, eyes widening as Serena caught Nate's eye and smiled and waved, turning to Blair and starting a quick conversation.

"Anyway, we were playing tag. . . . well, me and Serena played tag because Blair said grass stains are never fun . . . And it was really cool. Serena's awesome."

Charles rolled his eyes. Of course, Nate would think Serena was awesome. Nate liked everything loud and bright and . . . . dirty. Charles wouldn't have played tag either. Blair was right. Grass stains are never fun.

"Oh look," Nate said, as they moved forward in the line yet again. "They're coming over here."

Charles head shot up as he stared across the playground. Sure enough, the curly brunette and her yellow haired friend were headed to the tetherball courts and straight towards Nate and Charles. Nate smiled widely as he watched them walking over. Charles felt his stomach start fluttering and wondered what that annoying feeling could be.

As the girls reached the two boys in line, Serena reached over and hugged Charles' friend. "Nate, hi!" she exclaimed happily. "I told Blair we had to come say hi cause now we're friends, right?" She elbowed her dark haired friend softly as Blair smiled at Nate, eyelashes slowly fluttering.

"Yeah," she replied softly. "Hi Nate."

Serena then turned to Charles and held out her hand. "Hi. I'm Serena. This is Blair. We were in school with Nate before and saw him at the park the other day and--"

"I know you," Blair interrupted, looking at Charles with narrowed scrutinizing eyes. "You were in our class last year, too."

Serena looked at Charles and recognition seemed to dawn on her face. "Oh yeah--"

Blair continued to look at Charles, ignoring her friend. "Your name's Chuck or something, right?"

"Actually, it's--" Nate began, but Charles cut him off.

"Yeah, Chuck. My name's Chuck Bass." He stared back at the brunette, feeling more confident and like his father than he ever had before. Chuck Bass. He liked it.

"BASS!" someone called out and he spun around quickly. "You're up."

Looking over and seeing Carter Baizen with the tetherball in his hands, he realized what was happening. It was his turn. It was finally his turn. Nate laughed as he gave Charles a little push. "Go on, Chuck," he giggled.

Charles walked slowly to the pole and looked up at Carter, who smiled a less-than-kind smile at him as he prepared to hit the ball. He glanced back to where his friend stood with Serena and Blair. All three watched him-- Nate with excitement, Serena with nervousness and Blair with a slightly bored look on her face. Charles felt something inside of him well up and he faced Carter just as the taller boy slammed the ball around to his side.

Jumping up, Charles grabbed the ball from the air in a catch never-before-seen on this playground. Seeing Carter's eyes widen at the catch, Charles smirked at him and slammed the ball as hard as he could the other way, watching as it flew past Carter and swung around and around the pole until it tightened and began to slack off.

Charles turned and watched as Serena and Nate screamed and jumped into the air. "You won! You won!" they screamed over and over as they jumped. Charles walked over to them, smirking grin stuck to his face.

"Wait," Nate said, holding up his hands. "You won. You have to stay and play the next player."

Charles shrugged. "I don't feel like it. I think I'm done," he said casually with a toss of his hand, dismissing the humiliated fourth grader he'd left behind. He looked at the three and noticed Blair once again, only this time, she had an amused smile on her face.

"Not bad Chuck," she nodded at him in mild interest, her eyes flicking to Nate again and again.

Charles-- Chuck-- never one to let even the smallest clue pass by, suddenly understood. So, that's how it was. He shrugged his shoulders at the brunette. "Yeah well--"

He knew it was happening only a split second before it actually did. It was a very uncharacteristic move for a Bass-- a long line of males who preferred to abstain from physical aggression, choosing a more emotional one-- but he couldn't have stopped even if he wanted to as both hands reached out towards the pretty girl in her violet sundress and matching headband and pushed her square in the chest, watching as she flew backwards towards the ground.

Looking down at her with a smirk on his face, he heard the astonished voice of his friend as Nate knelt down to help up the brunette, who was positively spitting with rage. "Charles! What did you do that for?"

Chuck looked at him and shrugged. "I'm Chuck Bass."

As the bell rang, Chuck turned toward the hall, leaving behind the shrieking Blair, as Nate and Serena attempted to calm her down. He chuckled quietly to himself.

Ridiculous, indeed.

A/N: This is something that's been rolling in my head for awhile now. It's an idea that I think about at night when I'm trying to fall asleep and tonight, I actually got enough inspiration to start writing. I thought about writing the whole thing and posting it over the next few days, but chapter one ended up being a little longer than I thought it would be, so I thought I'd post it and see if there's interest in a continuation. Basically, it's a pre-series fic showcasing 5 moments in Chuck and Blair's past, highlighting how the idea that everything started at Victrola is ludicrous. I'm a firm believer that, with that chemistry, things were brewing between them long before any strip tease on the Victorla stage. This is my attempt at showing it. The first chapter takes place in first grade, but they are older in the other chapters.

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