A/N: Seriously. Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews. I wish I could reply to every single one of them, but there's a lack of internet where I am right now. For those of you who are worried that Blair might be a little too much of Emma and not enough well, Blair, don't even stress. I know the similarities and differences between the two characters. Blair will start being more Blair in the upcoming chapters. Given the rather stressful situations she was in in these first two chapters, I thought it was fair that she be a little less put together than usual. Side note: Sophie Kinsella is one of my favourite authors and I know I won't be able to do her justice, but I will try my best. I hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you in advance for your feedback.

Whirr


Somehow between the article with the details of Hilary Duff's wedding and how Lindsay is currently doing in rehab, I fell asleep, which was for the best really. Ridiculous, irrational thoughts tend to wander into my head when I fail to distract myself on a flight. Ridiculous, irrational thoughts of dying. In fact, I'm thinking about them right now. Shit. My hands immediately tighten their grip on the armrests of my seat. Deep breaths Blair. You're almost there, almost home.

Oh look! A well-designed pamphlet. This will keep me occupied for awhile. With an outward appearance of utmost calm, I pick it up and open its pages. Oh dear God. A safety pamphlet? Why do these things happen to me? I can't help but glance at the tiny stick people in the drawings, my eyes darting quickly from one picture to the next. There's one helping a child put on his oxygen mask, another, wearing a hideous orange life jacket, is heading towards the nearest exit. No. I need to stop thinking about this. Everything will be fine!

I put the pamphlet back in its place and stop one of the air hostesses as she walks past me. I just have to know.

"How much longer until we land?" I inquire.

"About half an hour," she replies jubilantly, flipping her shiny, red hair over her shoulders, looking past me.

I realize she's trying to get the man's attention. Puh-lease. Like he would give her the time of day. What was his name again? Oh right. Chuck. What an unfriendly name. As predicted, he is as non-responsive as ever, still absorbed into his papers. Honestly, who works this hard?

Oh great. The air hostess is gone too now. I was hoping to strike up a very, long conversation with her to distract myself from my impending doom. Maybe I should give Nate a call. He always knows how to calm me down. Yes, I'll do that. I take out my cell phone and punch in his number when the British gentleman speaks.

"You're not allowed to use mobile devices on the flight," he comments without even looking at me.

"Right. Of course," I answer, switching it off immediately, my cheeks flushed. "I knew that."

No response.

"I was actually just…" I start to explain myself, glancing at him.

Oh. What's the point? This is so embarrassing. I can't even bring myself to use the seat phone now.

Whirr. Whirr. Whirr.

I freeze, unable to move at the sound. What was that? Wait a minute. No. It's gone. My delusional head is messing with me again. Relax Waldorf. Almost there. Think about Nate. Nate. Nate. Nate.

Whirr. Whirr. Whirr.

Oh God! There it is again! I am sure I heard it this time.

"Where is that sound coming from?" I question nervously, flitting my eyes around the plane, searching for the source.

I'm speaking to no one in particular I suppose, just to myself.

"What sound?" the man echoes, finally giving me his attention. "Are you a nervous flyer Blair?"

I'm startled for a moment. He remembers my name? Wow. Color me shocked.

Whirr. Whirr. Whirr.

Oh sweet baby Jesus! It's that sound again. There's something wrong with the plane! We're all going to die!

"That one!" I exclaim, fear starting to well up inside me. "The Whirr. Whirr. Whirr. Do you not hear it?"

I'm making these stupid faces as I imitate the sound I'm sure, which is probably why he's looking at me like I'm crazy, but suddenly, he looks concerned too. There is an unexpected jolt and I sit up in my seat, alert. Like, super alert.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We ask that you please return to your seats at this time and fasten your seatbelts. We're just experiencing a bit of turbulence here. We will be arriving in New York very shortly."

There is another jolt and I automatically reach over to grip Chuck's hand, his arm, whatever. He glances at me, but makes no attempt to remove my hand from his, mostly because he probably won't be able to. I can feel my nails digging into his skin.

"Just relax," he tells me, looking even more concerned now. "It's just a bit of turbulence."

Of course he looks so concerned! I probably look like I'm about to have a seizure!

Another jolt.

"We're all going to die!" I shout in full on panic mode now.

"We're not going to die," he assures me in that annoyingly calm tone of his again. "You heard the captain. We'll be arriving in New York shortly."

"Well of course he's going to say that!" I protest, still gripping onto him with all my might. "He's not exactly going to make an announcement and say, 'Sorry folks! This is the end of the line for all of you! It was a pleasure having you on the flight!'"

He winces slightly as my nails nearly pierce his flesh. I try to loosen my grip on him a little, but there's another sudden bump. My ass just left my seat momentarily. This is it. I am going to die at the age of 25. I haven't left my mark on the world! I haven't been married, haven't had any children! I haven't saved a life! Well, there was this one time at the beach where I thought I was saving this really cute guy from drowning, but he just thought I was coming onto him. In my defense, I thought he was in serious trouble.

Whirr. Whirr. Whirr.

The sound is getting louder. I hear a scream. The elderly lady behind me is praying. An air hostess has collapsed into a useless heap on the floor. I repeat! We are all going to die! I turn to look at the man beside me again. Even he looks slightly pale now, although I'm not sure whether he's actually scared or I'm just cutting off all the circulation to his left arm. My thoughts are too jumbled to even differentiate between my insane imagination and reality right now.

"We're not going to make it," I reiterate. "I know we're not. I'm not ready to die!"

I glance down at the floor and notice my magazine has somehow flipped to an article titled '30 Things To Do Before You're 30.' I skim the list and immediately begin to ramble. I officially have another not-so-secret secret.

15. I am terrified of flying and when I am terrified, rationality flies out the fucking window and I like to ramble. A lot.

"I've never run in a marathon before," I confess before I quickly add, "Not that I really want to of course."

No response.

"I've never had a hangover before, I don't even know if I have a G spot..."

"Pardon me?" Chuck questions, but I barely pay him any mind.

I just can't stop rambling.

"I haven't achieved anything in life! My parents both think I'm a failure. I've never done anything to make them proud!"

"I'm sure that's not true," he says politely.

"It is!" I insist, my eyes shut tight now.

We're falling. We're falling.

"My mother is more proud of Jenny than she is of me and I'm her biological daughter! She moved in with us when she was 10 after her parents both died in a car crash. My mother is good friends with her mother, go figure, so she adopted her so to speak. I immediately wanted to make her feel welcome! I even gave her my room! I thought it would be cool, you know, having a younger girl around? I could be like the wiser, older sister, give her advice on boys or whatnot, but then she took an interest in fashion! Fashion! I swear she only showed an interest in fashion to make me look bad in front of my mom. One time, I got fed up with all the attention Jenny was getting and sketched out a few designs myself. My mother took one look at them, shook her head, and said, 'What a wonderful effort dear, but you just don't have that natural flair that Jenny has.' Natural flair? I have plenty of natural flair, wouldn't you agree?"

He nods or at least I think he does.

"Anyway, my career's a complete joke. I'm not some sharp business executive, commanding some huge, successful team around. I have no clue what the people around me are talking about half the time. They use fancy words like 'multi-logistics'. What the fuck does that even mean? I'm a crappy assistant. My official title is 'Blair Waldorf, marketing assistant', but I fetch coffee for the department for God's sake! My boss makes me pick up his dry cleaning for him at least twice a week! I still haven't paid off my student loans from college! My mother paid for my education actually, but she wants me to learn the value of money, so I have to pay her back! Do you know how much money I owe her? She'll probably just be upset that I didn't have a chance to pay her back when she gets wind of my terrible death. She paid for everything when Jenny jumpstarted her career in the fashion industry! God I hate that blonde, upstaging bitch so much!"

The plane levels off for a moment, bringing me for a split second back to reality. Oops. Was that my outside voice?

"I'm sorry," I apologize, my hands gripping the armrests of my seat now instead of his arm, although I have no idea how that happened. "You really don't want to hear all..."

Bump. Jolt. Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Did I mention I've never been in love before? Yeah! Do you know how tragic it is to die without ever having been in love? Well, do you?"

I take a breath and stop myself for a moment. No wait. That isn't right. I'm in love with Nate. The altitude must be messing with my head.

Another jolt. And with every bump after that, words come spilling out of my mouth like a waterfall. I am unstoppable.

"...awful colleague named Vanessa. The other day, there was a new computer up for grabs and she just took it, even though my crappy computer is practically falling apart…"

"...was determined to find my G spot, so we spent all day..."

"...so desperate for a job I even asked Jenny to...It was so embarrassing that..."

"...only when she really pisses me off, which is practically every day. The coffee at work tastes awful anyway..."

"...weigh 118 pounds, but Nate thinks I'm a size 4..."

"...horrible taste in lingerie and gifts in general for that matter...this hideous neon green watch for my birthday...absolutely hate it..."

"...lesbian dream about my best friend Serena..."

Now, I am really on a roll.

"...really sweet girl named Nelly...have this code where she asks to run some numbers by me, but we're really just going out for Starbucks and to gossip, mostly about what a bitch Vanessa is..."

"...lost my virginity to David Fields in some hotel room, while my mother was hosting a ball for our high school celibacy club downstairs..."

"...Carrie Underwood! Can you believe it? I just cannot stand...pretend to like it anyway..."

"...got a little too drunk at the last Christmas party...photocopy of my ass on the bulletin board in the department...will never own up to it..."

"...broke my boss's favorite coffee mug...says 'World's Best Boss'...ironic, don't you think?...ended up hiding the pieces in Vanessa Abram's desk and framed her for it...felt so good to see her being..."

"...told my mother I love her new fashion line, but..."

"...mentioned Nate to you, right? He's the sweetest guy ever, but sometimes I feel so insecure around him. Sometimes I think he's better looking than me...as in Barbie and Ken..."

"...also annoyingly quotes Glee all the time...watched that show before? I used to love it, but he talks about it so much now I just want to slap him upside the head every time he..."

"...wore a headband everyday in high…made me feel powerful, unstoppable…"

"...just start crying whenever I hear the song 'My Heart Will Go On'..."

Stop. Stop. Stop.

"...joined a book club, but I just couldn't get through Pride And Prejudice...read a very, detailed summary online and..."

"...strawberry ice cream, my absolute favorite dessert..."

"...perfect date would start off with a box of truffles appearing at the table as..."

"...think people who wear bowties are pompous asses..."

"...serious relationships lose their initial passion eventually, right? Sometimes I feel like we're in a rut, you know? I know Nate is great and everything, but where did the passion go? I want romance! I want to be swept off my feet! I am so not ready to..."

"Excuse me, miss?"

"What?"

I finally open my eyes just as the air hostess replies, "We've landed."

We've landed? No. That's impossible. Wait...

"We're not bumping anymore!" I comment stupidly.

"The bumping stopped quite awhile ago actually," Chuck offers, an amused smile across his face.

He doesn't seem to be laughing at me though, so I let the smirk slide. What's important is that I can see the ground! I'm alive! I'm not going to die after all!

"We're not going to die!" I exclaim, excitedly, getting up from my seat, ready to leave.

"We're not going to die," he agrees, collecting his things as well.

Then, as if for the first time, it hits me. I've been spewing all kinds of random nonsense to this stranger. Lord knows what I've told him. My face is now hot with major embarrassment. What did I say to him? What did I say to him? Oh no. I think I even mentioned my G spot. My G spot! The mortification is almost too much to bear. I have to get off this plane. Right. Now.

"You should have stopped me," I tell him simply, mostly because it's the only thing I can bring myself to say at the moment.

"You were sort of on a roll," he states in return, shrugging his shoulders slightly, his previous cool demeanor surfacing once again.

Right. No matter. I'll never see him again anyway.

"Well, enjoy your visit," I finish quickly before rushing off.

I don't even bother waiting for a response. I just want to go home already.

"Blair!" a familiar voice suddenly calls out.

Nate. I immediately run into his arms, needing some serious comfort after what I've just been through.

"Nate! You're here!"

"I heard there was some turbulence on your flight. I was so worried Blair. My heart nearly stopped when I heard that they had to get a paramedic out there the moment your plane landed."

He was worried about me! I am so lucky to have him.

"Oh Nate!" I fill him in. "You have no idea how terrifying it was! I honestly thought I was going to die!"

"Blair," he whispers suddenly, causing me to pause. "I never realized how much you mean to me until I thought I would lose you forever."

My eyes widen. No. No. Please. No.

"I love you Blair. Will you...?"

He trails off. Do not. Do not propose to me. Please do not propose to me. I'm not ready for marriage! No problem, I can wing this. I am a Waldorf! Yes, I have my response ready. 'Sorry Nate, but I think I need some time to...'

"...move in with me?" he finishes, looking to me for an answer.

Move in with him? Duh. Why would he propose?

"Oh gee Nate," I start, not even sure of what I want.

"You don't want to move in with me," he suggests at my lack of a response, looking dejected.

"No! Of course I do!" I insist (convincingly, I might add). "I'm just still in shock from the flight is all. I'd love to move in with you Nate!"

He smiles. I smile. He kisses me. I kiss him back. See? We're perfect for each other. All that nonsense about me never having been in love on the plane was all just, well, nonsense. I'm alive and I'm moving in with my totally devoted boyfriend. My seemingly crappy life is starting to look better already!