A one-shot to celebrate my first six months of writing fanfiction!

I know she's tired of hearing it, but once again, I send my endless gratitude and love to Bella, The Very Last Valkyrie, for being kind enough to respond to my little review and in turn, becoming an amazing friend and the reason I ever started writing.

An extra heap of love for Aylssa, GGFan73104, for the prompt (strawberry, table, scratch, five years after 4x22)

The biggest heap of love however is to you- the readers. We authors like to talk about how we right for ourselves, yet it would be so much less fun and interesting without all of you! Thank you for all the fun, joy, and happiness you've given me in these first few months.

Rated M, is that really any sort of surprise with me?


The maître d' seated him in his usual corner seat, out of the way, where he could simply relax and observe other people, rather than be observed himself. Leaning his head back, Chuck closed his eyes for a few blissful moments. The waiter sat his scotch on the table and he sat forward once more, opening his eyes, they landed on her. His heart thudded.

Oh, the distance five years had put between them. You need to let me go. I need to let you go. He had been right; but so had she. Across time and space, she was already pulling him towards her; their love would always bring them back together again. Though he knew- he was Chuck Bass, he knew everything, his eyes focused on her left hand, still barren. However, she was dining with a man. He was relieved and irked all the same.

Blair and her… guest were already finishing their meal with dessert. He cursed that she would be leaving so soon after he had arrived. He licked his lips expectantly as he watched her pick up a ripe strawberry from the little bowl of fruit before her. The whiteness of her nail against cerise flesh made his mouth go dry, his mind thinking of those nails scratching him, digging into his body until blood bloomed scarlet under her fingertips. If she had only scarred his body, he would not feel this way.

His pulse pounded, and his mind schemed a way to get close to her. Their pull was undeniable, not just to him, but to her as well. Suddenly, he stood from his seat and moved through the light and the shadow to fall in her line of sight. His eyes met hers, his smirk in place, beckoning to her.

It was dreamlike; the way she stood, and then walked passed him, towards the bathrooms. He turned after a moment, and followed her. His heart was racing as his hand pushed the cold door open. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket; her perfect mouth was hungry for him as they kissed. The years, the hurt, anger, desperation, and indifference fell away.

He stilled her a moment, turning to lock the door. Backing her against the tiled wall, he pinned her body to his and saw her eyes flash in acknowledgement of what was coming next. She spoke, "I should never have come back to Manhattan."

Chuck smiled at the breathy need that twisted into the timber of voice. "You always did enjoy an element of risk," He tore the front of her dress down with a savage eloquence, "a hint of danger."

Her hands reached to pull open his trousers, "But you were the one with a penchant for public places."

He pushed up the skirt of her dress, jade slipping up over porcelain thighs. He began to lean into her, "The only thing I have ever had a true penchant for... is you."

His fingers slipped back and down to grasp her ass, pulling her up, closer to him as her legs wrapped around his waist. Their skill was flawless as ever as he sank deeper into her core. His name fell from her lips, so much potential lost, so much desire rediscovered anew.

The feel of her against him, around him, brought back every memory of her - of them that he had carefully buried away, flaming red and blue, peony pink, and glittering diamonds. Fate had been cruel to them, so he fucked her harder, his fingers bruising her flesh, his lips burning against hers with all the heat in his burning heart.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck as she sobbed in his collar, the pleasure of climax mixed with the sorrow of time lost and a love they could never escape.

It was but a few more moments before blissful agony overtook him as well. He was desperate to mark her again after so long, to smear away the illusion that there had ever been a day since that first day that she had not been his... all his. She was hot and wet around him, and he met her ardor, coating her, hot and sticky, so deep inside.

They adjusted their appearance but he knew she could never hide the haze of passion in her eyes. He grabbed her, pulling her- brown curls, perfect curves, sharp wit, heart, and soul, back to him and kissed so tenderly. Her mouth could never deny him the truth, even if she tried to with her words. He felt it; he would not let her go this time, holding her in his arms, "Stay with me."