Title: Blair House
Author: Dystopic Entropy
Summary: C/B fluffy future-fic. Oneshot. Chuck Bass tries to buy a certain house for his lovely wife. Inspired by a post by atomicseasoning on IMDb's Gossip Girl board.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl. If I did, there'd be Chair in every episode. (The run-by scene last Monday doesn't count!)
A/N: Please leave me a review; I value all comments and suggestions. That said, enjoy :)
"Don't...touch...that!"
Blair Waldorf-Bass swatted her husband's hand away from the gilt bronze candelabrum which sat precariously close to the edge of the mantelpiece.
"Why not?" he retorted with typical Bass impertinence, pulling his hand back as just a touch of disappointment crossed his handsome features. His dark eyes continued to glint with mischief. "We're guests here. We were told by the President himself to make ourselves at home, and that is what I fully intend to do."
"Yes, but - Chuck!" she shrieked as his hand snaked towards the candelabrum again. "That's two hundred years old!"
"Yeeeeeeees…" he drawled. "And I was thinking of buying one like it for the foyer in our penthouse. After all, nothing could say 'opulence' better than the furnishings in the President's own guest house."
Blair gaped, flabbergasted, as her insolent husband reached over and actually picked up the two-hundred-year-old candelabrum for closer inspection. She wasn't sure what should have surprised her less at this point: the fact that her husband obviously didn't care about the object for its historical value, or the fact that he was willing to spend a large sum of money just to appear the equal of the most powerful man in the country. She wouldn't be surprised if he even tried to buy that very one.
"You're impossible," she griped, stomping out of the drawing room in a huff.
For a moment there, it seems that the Queen B forgot that Chuck Bass always sets his sights impossibly high.
Later that evening, he asked the Chief of Protocol if he could possibly arrange for a most privileged of meetings.
~*~*~*~*~
"Mr. President, I have a proposition for you."
Chuck Bass should have known that he was in over his head right there.
Should have. But didn't.
The President merely raised an eyebrow, glancing over steepled fingers at the young billionaire.
"I'd like to buy Blair House."
"And why on earth would you want to do that?"
Chuck blinked in surprise. To him, the reason was clearly obvious, and he was unused to having to explain himself.
"It's for my wife, you know… her name is Blair, so I thought…I mean, it would be…I…" Chuck gabbled on.
God, why couldn't he stop babbling?
The President turned his steely gaze on him, and Chuck's mouth mercifully fell shut.
One moment later, it opened again.
"I'm willing to offer you a billion dollars for that house."
The President bit back a grin at the young billionaire's brash offer before he continued with what he had been going to say.
"Although that's an impressive offer, I'm afraid Blair House isn't mine to sell."
Chuck blinked again.
"It's government property, you understand. Why, the very history of the place!"
The President droned on about the numerous foreign dignitaries who had once stayed in the house as Chuck's mind belatedly recalled all the trivia that Blair had pelted him with as soon as she'd heard that they were to be granted the privilege of a stay in the President's own guest house, which, according to Blair, was used almost exclusively for foreign leaders.
The President's dignified yet incredulous voice snapped Chuck out of his reverie.
"What on earth gives you the audacity to even think of asking to buy Blair House?"
Chuck faltered for a moment before his trademark smirk was back in place.
"I'm Chuck Bass."