Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with GG, Josh Schwartz, the CW etc.

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"You son of a bitch," Blair accused as the harsh slap to his face made a resounding sound in the empty apartment.

Chuck merely sneered at her in his own self-destructive way. Before his father's death, Blair always thought that sneer was Chuck's way of showing everyone he was better than the world he lived in. She wasn't intimidated by it, she didn't fear it. She just accepted it as part of Chuck, as one of the characteristics that composed the man she loved. Now she despised it. That sneer represented every destructive thought Chuck ever had, every ploy he ever made that led to nowhere but her heart ache and every kiss she would not receive from him.

"Can we leave my mother out of this please?" He drawled out with contempt.

Blair took a few steps back and widened her eyes at his tone. Had Chuck had any sense left in him, he would have realised that if anyone was going to this, it was Blair Waldorf, his oldest friend, his archest enemy and his only hope.

"Who the hell do you think you are Chuck?" She asked him calmly. She wasn't accusing, she wasn't using her usual biting tone. No this was far worse. This was the tone of someone who knew she was better than him.

"Do you think after what you've done that I would be your friend? Did you think I would embrace you like I did the night of my mother's wedding?"

Chuck cringed, sending her a hateful glare. Blair knew she was hitting below the belt. And relished it.

"You are nothing but a common, poor...little...rich boy," she emphasised each word with her hands, spitting out the words while inching closer to his face while he tried to turn his head. But she wouldn't have it. She wanted each word to pierce his heart.

"You want to know something Chuck? You want to know something I never told you?" Her eyes frantically searched over his face. She was pushing it, she knew. If she got out of this alive, it would only be by the grace of God she had never bothered to truly believe in.

"When we were five years old, I found a picture of your mother in Eleanor's closet. And when I asked her about the beautiful woman in the photo, she said Misty Bass was the most elegant, most refined, most kind of women. No one, absolutely no one could compare to Misty Bass when she was in the room."

"Waldorf," Chuck looked up with a death glare, "I suggest you tread very carefully. We are alone and I will not be held accountable for what I do when we are alone."

Blair laughed coldly at his serious threat. She couldn't be scared. Anger was her most prominent emotion right now.

"Oh I'm not done Bass." She spat out his family name in a way that made it clear she felt he did not deserve it.

"The following morning I had my mother's designers make me a dress just like the one Misty Bass was wearing in the photo."

Chuck's eyes shot up to meet hers. She could see the fear in his eyes, and she did hesitate for one minute, but then remembered why she was doing this.

"I thought she was a real-life role model to look up to. Not just someone in a movie... You want to know what I think Chuck? Huh? Look at me."

She grabbed his face and turned him to face her. Tears shone in her eyes but she braced herself for one final blow.

"I think she'd be ashamed of you."

Chuck's eyes flared in anger and he grabbed her throat, backing her against the wall.

Even then she wasn't scared, even then she dared him with her gaze to squeeze, to threaten, to yell. She knew he wouldn't. She knew he would never hurt her. She knew why too.

"I thought I told you to leave my mother out of this," Chuck breathed out.

"This isn't about her. This is about you. There are only so many jams I can get you out of. This last one has been particularly difficult," she continued hatefully.

"I don't need you," Chuck emphasised, inches from her face.

"That is currently up for debate. The fact of the matter remains... I bailed you out."

His grip on her throat had considerably loosened, even though it had never been tight. To the casual observer, it might even seem as if he were caressing her neck.

"So you want compensation?" Chuck's eyes once again flickered briefly with hurt. Anyone besides Blair would have missed the emotion. Fortunately, this was Blair.

"Of course I don't want compensation. In case you've forgotten, I have everything I want Chuck... No I want something far more complicated. I want justification. Prove to me that what I just did was not for nothing."

He let go of her and took three steps back. He cocked his head to the side and gazed at her questioningly. Blair being generous? Something was off.

"What's in it for you?"

Blair reached up to her neck. She looked as though she was rubbing out an ache. A flicker of the old Chuck told him she was merely caressing where his hand had touched after months of no contact. But he wouldn't believe it.

Blair laughed coldly again. "Oh don't worry... lover," she spat out, reminding him of the word he had made sound so despicable in the school courtyard, "I don't want you to tell me you love me. I'm not interested in this new hopeless Chuck. The Chuck I loved knew how to take care of himself, knew how to take care of me."

She really did sound as if she were talking about a completely different person. Chuck quirked his eyebrow snidely. He was wearing what could quite possibly be the most expensive tailored suit in Manhattan and she was saying he can't take care of himself.

And there in all his vulnerability, in all his embarrassment from the hurtful things she had said, something old and strong flared up inside him. Unconsciously he stood straighter, moved lighter and approached her with a devilish smile.

"I can still outdo you in any scheme. Last night was a glitch, an unfortunate miscalculation. You may be Queen, Blair, but I'm Chuck Bass." He stepped behind her, and lowered his mouth to the back of her neck. "I can still make the hair right here stand on end. I can still," he pressed a tiny kiss to her nape, "make," another kiss further up, "you", and another, "shiver," one where he'd never forget her pulse point was, "with desire."

It took all of Blair's control to not do just that. Chuck may have had some kind of epiphany in those three steps towards her, but all was not healed yet.

"Prove it then," she stated simply.

Chuck didn't budge, simply allowed his warm breath to fall on her neck.

"Prove you can take care of yourself. The way you and I take care of ourselves." Chuck leaned in about to place another kiss but she quickly turned around placing her hand on his chest at arm's length.

"And if you don't, I will ruin you."

Chuck scoffed and stared right at her.

"Even if you could, you wouldn't."

Blair folded her arms, and smirked at him snidely.

"Oh and why's that lover?"

Chuck smirked at her slip. Blair remained stoic, not regretting any of her choice of words.

"I don't love you." Blair put an uncommon emphasis on the word 'you'. It was true. She didn't love this Chuck. He was cold and ruthless. Not in the way when they had first started their relationship. He was truly a man who rose in the morning out of habit. And Blair hated that and all that it portended.

"Prove you can take care of yourself Bass. Or I WILL ruin you. The following day or years later, I will ruin you. You may think you have more at your disposal than me but at this moment, you lack something I have."

"Oh what's that?"

"Motivation."

Chuck looked her up and down, like an antiques buyer would look at an object worth bidding for. He turned and made his way out. As soon as he left, Blair's demeanour quickly changed. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes immediately became red with fatigue. She slumped against the same wall he had pushed her up against and closed her eyes.

She spoke softly out of exhaustion and desperation, "Please let this be worth it."

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