Because Blair's 18th should be the social event of the year and I think Chuck would have been more than a little bit worried about Dan's scoop on Bart Bass :) This will probably be a two-parter....

Also, I have edited Pret-A-Poor-J in my mind so that Blair and Chuck sleep together just after their conversation in her bedroom, so that is the 'just once' that Blair is referring to in this fic.

Chuck's mind whirled as the true consequences of Dan Humphrey's discovery about his father began to take a clearer shape. He pictured all of it; the media frenzy, newspaper headlines proclaiming the downfall of Bass Industries, scheming reporters gathering outside the apartment and the humiliation of watching the Bass fortune slowly withering. And who knew what else Humphrey would decide to reveal to the world? It would kill his father. Most likely kill his marriage too; Chuck doubted that Lily's commitment would stretch that far, after all wasn't his father's phenomenal wealth the foundation for their relationship?

And what about the man who had died? Bart could easily be taken to court.

And then what would become of them? Chuck shuddered. He knew that the life he had so enjoyed now lay in the hands of the very person who would most like to see it taken away.

Humphrey had to be destroyed and Chuck needed expert help. He needed Blair.

The limo pulled up outside her building and he leaps out. It's not his smoothest exit and Chuck was very much aware that had it been any other evening he would have changed into something special for meeting Blair in her room but with his family's imminent ruin on the cards tonight, he was beyond caring.

As the limo ascended, Chuck became more and more aware of the low beat coming from one of the top apartments. He almost smiled as Blair despised loud music except at parties.

Wait. Parties? Something in Chuck's memory stirred. But before this thought could awake, the elevator doors opened and Chuck came face to face with Blair Waldorf's Eighteenth Birthday Party.

"Fuck..." Chuck murmured. He had to hand it to her – the girl could throw a party. The Waldorf penthouse had been transformed into a Moulin Rouge style music/circus hall complete with girls dressed in corsets and feathers holding the canapé trays, ornate swings hanging from the ceiling and Chuck even thought he saw a fire eater.

It was the Blair Waldorf version of Victrola and, despite his panic, Chuck felt a small stab of hurt that she had neglected to invite him to an event which she knew he would adore.

Chuck shook those thoughts from his head. He had to concentrate on finding her in the colour and the chaos of the Waldorf Penthouse.

"Chuck!" He wheeled around to be met with Serena's questioning face. "You're here..."

Chuck cut her off before he was met with disapproval for crashing the party. "I need to see Blair. Have you seen her?"

"Uh – yeah...she was over there talking to Michael and his friends." Chuck began to push past her, but she stepped in front of him. "Hey, did you not know it was her party tonight? I just mean...you're hardly dressed for the occasion" Chuck's impatience flared at the delay to his mission and he was suddenly bothered by a lingering sense of vanity due to the fact that he, Chuck Bass, was actually wearing plaid slacks and a yellow shirt to a Burlesque-style party.

"I just need to talk to her" Chuck strode quickly away from the blond's worried expression and into the crowd. His heart was still racing with thoughts of selling the family limo, letting go of the staff, moving out with his broken father to a two bed roomed apartment in Mid Town....

God, I need Blair...

He momentarily questioned why he was even going to her and not attempting to stop Humphrey himself and had to push back the thoughts that it was because any efforts to stop the Brooklynite would be futile and the real truth was that he needed her comfort.

Chuck tried to ignore the image which had invaded his mind; he and Blair spread out on her bed plotting like old times...he would confide in her and she would comfort him, hold him and then they would...

Stop. Just because Dan Humphrey is destroying your life doesn't mean you lose your balls completely.

Chuck instead tried to summon his signature swagger to restore some sense of normality. If he was to attend a party wrongly dressed and inwardly panicking he at least needed to look cocky about it. Finally he spotted her and almost stopped in his tracks when he noticed her bare back.

"Blair" He had to raise his voice above the music. She turned to face him and raised an eyebrow without surprise.

"What you are doing here, Bass?"

"I..." Chuck paused as he took in her appearance. She took his breath away despite the seriousness of the situation which was weighing on his mind. She was dressed in a floor length, glittering red corseted dress. Her shoulders were bare and her hair was stylishly twisted up in curls. Desire stirred within him as she gazed up at him through deep brown eyes.

"I really need to talk to you" If she noticed the urgency of his voice, she did not show it. Rather than looking concerned as he may have hoped, she instead frowned at she took in his outfit.

"If you're going to crash my party, Bass, at least have the taste to be dressed appropriately whilst doing it"

Frustration built within him. "Blair, I don't care about your party. Just...please...I need you to come with me"

Her eyes narrowed and her body curved away from him. Chuck sensed there was something bothering her...her expression was not the one of a Blair who was enjoying being the hostess to her perfect eighteenth party. Her face was steely and he had a certain foreboding about what words were going to leave her pouted mouth.

"Really, Chuck?" Her lip curled harshly. "I thought 'just once' was all you needed?"

Chuck stared open mouthed and a different kind of worry settled within him. The reference to their night together after the Brooklyn art show stung him. Surely she didn't think that that night hadn't been just 'one more go around' for him? Him 'clearing the pipes'?

Shit...

He lowered his voice and bent his head closer to her and, unusually for him, attemped some emotional honesty. "Blair...that's...that's not what that night was to me...God, you don't really think that do you?" He took her arm but she wrenched it back with a darker glare.

"Could you just go, Chuck?" Her tone was flat and final. She wasn't going to help him. He was alone.

"Please?" She stated in pure Queen Bitch mode.

"Fine." He replied with a scowl. He began to walk slowly back to the elevator. The floor was strewn glamorously with glitter and golden confetti but every step upon it seemed to reverberate within him, forcefully reminding him of the Brooklyn scum Daniel Humphrey's power over him. All around him in Blair's plush apartment were designer dresses, the smell of expensive perfume, luxury champagne – he was in his element but these things only seemed to mock him. The colours seemed to fuse together until he felt almost dizzy. He grabbed a champagne flute and downed it in one in an attempt to ward off the nausea. As he slammed the empty glass back down, he caught a last look at Blair. She was talking with the same group of boys, an arm thrown around Serena's waist, and laughing. She looked amazing, of course, which served to make Chuck feel even worse. Blair Waldorf did not date nobodies – especially if their family had been publically shamed and stripped of wealth.

Chuck clenched his jaw and hoped that Dan Humphrey was a better man than he was.