(a/n: Thanks for the two reviews! Keep 'em coming!)

Chuck felt a bright light shining on his face. Judging by the way his head spun when he turned to try to shield it, he decided it'd be best not to open his eyes. He turned over with his back to the light and readjusted in the sheets. The sheets? Wait a second…these sheets felt like Egyptian cotton, his sheets are silk. Still not daring to let the light penetrate his eyes, he reached out and felt…hair?

He jumped a little. What the fuck? He finally opened his eyes which proved to be a bad decision when it felt like a knife cut through his eye sockets. Where the hell am I? He definitely did not own pink pillows. Then he saw her. Like an angel, sleeping peacefully with her dark chocolate curls framing her perfect porcelain face. Fuck. Had he slept with her? Did he ruin everything? Did he blow the one chance of anyone in the world ever loving him? His bastard father sure didn't.

His hand was still touching the end of her hair. He stroked it gently, so as not to wake her up. STOP. He needed to figure out what happened last night. He struggled to remember, and unfortunately the only thing he could remember was scotch, Dan Humphrey asking him about his father, and those twins he met in the stairwell on the way up to the…roof. He remembered the roof. He was actually surprised that he was still alive. If there was a rooftop and scotch involved, he was positive he should technically be dead.

Maybe he was dead. Maybe that's why Blair is in bed with him and not slapping at him to get out. No. If he was dead, it wouldn't take the room an extra three seconds to catch up with his head like it was now.

"Mmngh," he groaned and brought a hand up to his aching head. How the hell did he end up at Blair's? As he sat up on the end of the bed a piece of last night came back to him. He was sitting in this very position and Blair was taking off his tie…he remembered mumbling something about being silly….and snuggling?

It was no use. He noticed that his clothes were still on. So chances were he probably didn't sleep with her.

"Are you leaving?"

He nearly fell off the end of the bed, her voice sounded so Goddamn loud. "Jesus!"

"No, Blair."

"Funny."

"Well good morning sunshine."

"Mmmph"

"How do you feel?" she said with a smirk.

"Mmmpm."

"That good, huh."

"Would you be so kind as to enlighten me…how I got here and what I…or we…did."

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you but although it may look like it, we did not sleep together."

"Not disappointed."

"But you did manage to throw up all over my bathroom."

He ran a hand through his messy hair. "Sorry." As much as he loved drinking, he hated ending up being a burden and having to be taken care of. "Any idea how I got here? Or why I cam here?"

"Not a clue. You were sitting in my foyer almost passed out when I got home. Then I dragged you up here and you threw up in my bathroom where we fell asleep for two hours. Then I woke up...crippled, and I dragged you to bed." Then she added an afterthought. "And you asked me if we could 'snuggle,'" she said this emphasizing the word snuggle so as to embarrass him a little.

"Ah, yes. I do remember snuggle." There was an awkward silence. "Well, thank you for your hospitality. I have to get going. Today is the will reading. I need to find my uncle…I'll just wait for the limo downstairs. Goodbye." As he got up to reach for his tie and jacket, suddenly last night came flooding back to him. With the words uncle and limo in the same sentence his mind flashed back to the conversation with his uncle.

Don't beat around the bush-

Oh that's exactly what I did to her.

He stopped dead facing the window. He saw red. The hair was standing up on the back of his neck. He turned around with eyes that could have killed. He walked slowly and threateningly over to Blair, sitting up in her bed. "You lying slut."

"Chuck! What are-"

"Don't you fucking ask me what! You know what!" He grabbed her arms, shouting, his face inches from hers.

"Chuck, calm down."

"I asked you why I came here last night. You said you didn't know. DO YOU KNOW – WHY I CAME HERE LAST NIGHT?!"

She stared back into his face with a stone cold glare. "No."

He threw her back onto the bed and climbed onto her pinning her down. "I came here," he whispered into her ear, "to find out – why you would sleep with my uncle. Fucking slut." The cat was out of the bag. She couldn't possibly deny it any more. "WELL?!"

"Chuck," there were the tears. He couldn't let himself give in to the tears, "we didn't sleep together."

"SO I'VE HEARD!" He screamed in her face, still pinning her onto the bed. "BUT YOU MAY AS WELL HAVE!....RIGHT?!" He finally got off of her and paced around the room.

She wiped her eyes. "You…you could say that."

"I just did." He grabbed his tie and jacket and stormed towards the door. "Goodbye Blair."

"Chuck, wait!" He heard her running after him down the hallway. "Please let me explain."

"Explain? Explain what, there's nothing to explain. You hooked up with my uncle. That's disgusting. You're disgusting. Goodbye." He turned and kept walking as he put his jacket on.

"Chuck!" she grabbed his shoulder. In an instant, he grabbed her wrist and shoved her into the wall.

"Don't touch me…fucking whore." He walked down the stairs to the elevator without turning back. The fucking elevator took forever. He turned and took one last look backwards and saw her laying on the floor in a giant sobbing heap where he was just standing. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart, but his inner Chuck Bass reprimanded him for feeling guilty when he was the one who was betrayed.

He stepped into the elevator as it came and looked at all the buttons. He considered pressing the button for the rooftop to finish what he never did last night, but he pushed L for the lobby instead.

He needed to get to the will reading. He was about to become very rich.