Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a growing fixation with everyone's favorite motherchucker.
A/N: Since I didn't finish before ep. 16, please expect some deviations from the show. For those of you who have this story on alert, I apologize for the overdue update. Unfortunately, I have to work for a living (despite my conviction that I would make one heck of a kept woman). I promise part three won't take so long. A big thank you to those who left reviews. I mainly wrote this for my own enjoyment, but it's wonderful to know that others take pleasure in it as well.
Gossip Girl: Spotted, Queen B channeling her inner Elle Woods during a hasty breakfast with C—her stepfather dearest that is. We all know B likes to coordinate outfits with her dates, but coordinating with family is pushing things a little too far. And where did she rush off with Cyrus to? B was in such a hurry she left her non-fat latte behind!
Chuck gritted his teeth waiting for the elevator to arrive on the 80th floor. Under normal circumstances, the walk of shame to his execution would have been painful. Having Jack along for the ride was torture.
He should have taken the next elevator.
For his part, Jack acted as if there was nothing wrong with screwing over his last remaining blood relative.
To make things even worse, the bastard wanted to talk. About Blair.
He half listened to Jack's prattling, filling in the blanks on his own. He wondered just how long his uncle had been screwing Blair behind his back. Being Chuck Bass, natural progression led him to thinking about where. In my limo. This elevator. While she called to say she missed me.
His anger over the situation was unreasonable. He had pushed Blair away more than once. He couldn't even remember (let alone count) the number of women he had been with since Bart's death. To him, sex was meaningless unless it was with Blair.
To Blair, sex was always meaningful.
Maybe that's why it hurt so much.
Five Days Ago
"I'm sorry, but I'm done."
Five words, sixteen letters. She said them slowly, with calculation. There was no anger, just a deep searing pain in the vicinity of her heart. As much as she tried, she couldn't look Chuck in the eye. Couldn't let him see how close to the edge she truly was. How much it hurt.
Had it really only been a week ago that she told him she would always be there? Yet another broken promise that rang in the silence between them.
Her hands tightened reflexively on the small bouquet of peonies, a symbol that somewhere deep inside his pea-sized heart, Chuck Bass cared for her. If only for this instant. If only the slightest bit.
You need to let go of your fantasies. This time, the voice repeating the words in her head was her own. She glanced at the flowers. They were too little, too late.
As the elevator doors closed, she tossed the peonies at Chuck's feet. For a moment, it felt good to be the one lashing out, giving back a little piece of the rejection she'd experienced over and over again.
For the first time since Bart's death, Blair was the one deciding the course of her and Chuck's non-relationship. She ended it. She had won.
Too bad if felt like she had lost the world. She turned and preceded calmly towards her room, ever the dignified princess, willing herself not to crack. As she reached the stairs, she saw Dorota off to the side, wringing her hands with worry. She cast a fleeting smile towards the loyal maid and continued on her way.
She reached the top of the stairs before she realized she was crying. She was able to hold the sobs back until she reached the safety of her room. She locked the door behind her and did the one thing Blair Waldorf never allowed herself to do. She lost control.
Fifteen minutes later she stared dejectedly at the toilet. The first time, shortly after Bart's funeral, had been an accident. The second she convinced herself was the stomach flu. The fifth was caused by too much alcohol and too much Jack Bass on New Year's Eve. Blair completed the ritual by flushing the toilet reaching for her toothbrush. As she allowed her carefully constructed mask of perfection to settle back into place, she had a disturbing realization. She'd lost count of how many times.
She was just beginning to grapple with the implications of it returning, when her cell phone started ringing. She reached for it, hating that her heart skipped a beat. She glanced at the caller ID and hesitated before answering. It was him. It took only a second to weigh her options. Once she started down this path there would be no turning back. It would be all or nothing. But if there was one thing Blair knew how to do, it was play for keeps.
Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she smiled and answered the phone.
"Hello, Jack. I've been hoping you'd call."
Three Days Later
"It's YALE, Serena. I am not overreacting!" Blair yelled into her phone as she exited the elevator and stepped into the van der Woodsen apartment. To further demonstrate said lack of overreaction, she disconnected her BFF without as much as a pithy comment.
Serena walked around the corner and continued the conversation without missing a beat. "It's one B. It's not the end of the world. You have a wonderful academic record and outstanding extra-curriculars. Yale would be stupid not to admit you."
Blair looked at Serena, saw the sincerity in her eyes, and immediately started tearing up. She launched herself at the other girl, laughing through the tears. "I love you, S. You always believe in me, even when I don't believe in myself. "
Serena sighed and returned the embrace. Blair was such a bundle of emotions, lately.
The sound of her mother delicately clearing her throat reminded them that had an audience. Blair wiped her eyes and laughed. She really was overreacting. She turned towards Serena's mother, an apology already on her lips. "I'm sorry, Lily. I seem to be a watering pot lately…" She broke off as she realized Lily wasn't alone.
On the sofa next to her sat the devil himself, Chuck Bass.
Blair did her best to glare him into non-existence. Chuck squinted at her. She hated that squint.
The awkward moment stretched until Lily's good breeding kicked in. "It's quite all right, Blair. Charles and I were discussing some recent problems he's been having."
"Recent?" Blair asked with feigned astonishment. "Two months of degeneracy and failure, I'd say it's pretty much become business as usual."
"Nevertheless, he is family. Bart would have wanted—"
"Bart would have wanted Charles to learn to take responsibility for his actions and solve his problems on his own," Blair snapped.
"What's your point, Waldorf?" Chuck interjected.
"My point, Bass, is that you would be able to resolve this little dilemma with your oh-so-charming uncle if you weren't wasting brain cells on booze, drugs, and women."
The basstard smirked. She hated that smirk even more than the squint. "It always comes back to this, Blair. You playing the jeal—"
"Whatever," Blair cut him off in the middle of his sentence. "I said I was done and I meant it." She turned to Serena. "Before I was distracted by Yale, we were discussing wardrobe for my…fishing expedition…tonight. I believe you have just the thing." She steered Serena towards her room, eager to get away from Chuck.
Ten minutes later, she practically sprinted through the room tossing hasty apology and goodbye at Lily. She didn't spare a glance for Chuck.
Lily made an attempt at covering for Blair's rudeness. "Charles, I'm sure Blair will get over being upset at you. Just give her a couple days."
He stared dejectedly at the floor. "I wouldn't count on it," was his only reply.
Three hours later
Chuck sat at the Palace bar nursing his scotch and doing his best to forget Blair Waldorf. He was failing miserably.
The look she had given him this afternoon had said it all. She wanted nothing more to do with him. Funny that he had still been holding out hope that maybe he could win her forgiveness.
"Is this seat taken?"
Chuck stiffened as his uncle Jack sat on the stool next to him. "Yes, as a matter of fact, it is."
Jack chuckled. "I'll only need it for a moment. My date should be here any minute now."
"Thank goodness for small favors," was Chuck's dry reply.
"Kid, I gotta hand it to you. You have wonderful taste in women. No self control, but wonderful taste."
Chuck turned towards his last living relative and waited. It had taken a couple days for him to catch on, but Chuck quickly realized that Jack was a braggart. You didn't need to press for information. If you simply waited, he'd spill it on his own.
"After what happened between us on New Year's Eve, I had hoped…But then I brought you home and realized she only had eyes for you. Lucky for me, Blair agreed—"
"Blair wouldn't touch you," Chuck bit off angrily.
"Oh, yeah? Why don't you ask her about that?" Jack motioned for Chuck to turn around.
Chuck had seen Blair in her many forms. He'd seen her buttoned, pressed, & proper. He had seen her strip at Victrola. He had seen her naked in the back of his limo. Several times. But he had never seen the woman standing before him.
She was dressed in a short red scrap that he vaguely remembered Serena wearing once during her party girl days. The offending garment was cut low in the front (displaying more Waldorf than he'd ever seen in public) with a hemline that was approximately two inches from displaying her ass. Her hair curled and flowed around her body. Her smoky eyes and red lips smiled as if she held all the answers to all the world's mysteries within her palm.
Chuck almost smiled in return until he realized it wasn't for him. It was for Jack.
"Wow. I'm going to have a wonderful time tonight." Jack stood and patted Chuck on the back. "See you around, kid."
Chuck couldn't tear his eyes away as Jack guided Blair out of the Palace restaurant, his hand dangerously low on the small of her back. He closed his eyes and started counting the ways he could murder his uncle.
Present
Only ten more floors. Chuck was regretting his decision to go through this ordeal sober. He should have lit up in the limo when he had the chance. Some herbal refreshment might have made the elevator ride with Jack sufferable.
"I really should thank Blair for dinner the other night. I'm thinking flowers. Any suggestions?" Jack apparently found no shame in asking his nephew for advice concerning said nephew's former lovers.
Nothing would have made this sufferable.
"I'm not discussing Blair with you." Chuck smirked at how reasonable and calm the words sounded. Inside he was howling like a wounded animal, but he'd be damned if Jack knew it.
"You look like a kicked puppy," Jack happily replied.
So much for not letting him see you sweat.
The elevator dinged its arrival on the 80th floor. As the doors opened, Jack slung his arm around Chuck's shoulders. "Kid, I'm about to do you a huge favor."
"Are you going to disappear?" Chuck tried not to sound too hopeful.
"Not a chance," Jack said with a derisive smile. "But I'm feeling magnanimous today. After all, we both know this meeting is just a formality. The Board has already effectively put me in charge."
He dragged Chuck out of the elevator, towards the conference room where the Board was waiting. "But just to show you that there are no hard feelings and I really do have your best interests at heart, I'm going to tell you the truth."
Despite himself, Chuck was curious. "The truth about what?"
"The truth about Blair Waldorf."
