A/N ...Ah! You guys are so freaking amazing! Thank you so much for all your kind words and all the encouragement! :)
I will keep on writing this, as I have told those of you who reviewed, though it will probably be somewhat of a second priority until I've finished HWG. But there will be regular updates :) This feels really exciting and fun to be writing, not following canon at all is a challenge. (and writing Chuck without too many sexual innuendos, since he doesn't know Blair and is actually working, is even more challenging. haha)
Some of you reviewed anonymously so:
umuofia - thank you! I'm glad you liked it!
Lenora - thank you! and about Chuck's style, his outfit from the last chapter was partly inspired by what he was wearing in 2x15.
I was actually thinking...Since I'm not following canon I might use some oc Chuck and Blair's outfits from the show (just for the fun of it. haha) Virtual cookies for anyone who can name the episode...jk ;)
This is un-beta'd, I apologize in advance for any mistakes! Happy reading!
Blair paced anxiously back and forth, clutching the phone in her right hand so hard her knuckles were turning white. The red silk of her dressing gown swooshed around her legs with every turn and twist she made as she stormed around her living room. She let out an exasperated huff, and fell into one of the plush, leather armchairs, tapping her fingers against the phone impatiently. In the next second she was up and moving again, continuing with her restless pacing around the room. A while later, she finally surrendered, and picked up the discreet, black business card from where it had been lying, silently mocking her, on the coffee-table.
The fact that she was even considering this was downright mortifying. This is what you have stooped to, she informed herself wryly. You are actually considering going through with this. Though desperate times call for desperate measures, she decided, and dialed the local number at the back of the card. Before the call had even had time to connect, she panicked and pushed 'disconnect'. Appalled by her own uncharacteristically indecisive behavior, she came close to complete surrender, until she caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the window. She looked like a crazy person, wide-eyed and stressed out, and she forced herself to breathe calmly. The question now was; did she want to be a crazy, stressed out and date-less version of herself, or a somewhat sane Blair with a date she has paid for?
Her eyes surveyed her living room while she contemplated her decision. A group of framed pictures caught her attention. Blair walked over to the photographs, and leisurely trailed her finger along the outline of an ornate, silver frame. It was a photo of her and Nate on the night of their engagement party, the two of them together side by side, looking deliriously happy. Or at least she looked happy, looking at it now Nate actually looked a little stressed out, she thought. The fact that it has been two years, and she was still bothered about something which clearly hadn't really affected him even then, brought forth a decision. She took a deep breath, and dialed the number again. She could barely hear the ringing over the loud thumping of her heart as she waited for the other person to pick up her call. Her thumb hovering indecisively over the phone, prepared to end the madness at any second.
"Hello." The same smooth voice she recognized from a week ago answered, and Blair suddenly couldn't speak. Realizing she was still holding her breath, she exhaled raggedly. "Hello? Ms. Anderson, are you calling me again?" The voice inquired.
The question floored her completely. Great, not only was she calling a gigolo to acquire his services for the 'UES wedding of the year', she was apparently calling a gigolo with a crazy stalker at that.
"Alright, I'm hanging up now. Have a good day." He sighed, and a cold rush of panic shot through her system.
"No!" Blair managed to blurt out, "Don't, I mean. I'm not-" She stuttered and cringed at her sudden lack of eloquence. "I'm not Ms. Anderson. I'm Blair, Blair Waldorf?" The last syllables of her explanation uttered in a meek, barely audible voice.
"Ms. Waldorf?" the man mused, "Oh, the movie star."
"Excuse me?" She was beginning to regret her decision. Not only did he have some kind of pathetic, old lady stalking him. He was clearly delusional too.
"Nothing," She could hear the grin in his voice even over the phone as he continued, "What can I do for you Ms. Waldorf, Blair?"
Here goes nothing Blair thought, and pressing her eyes shut she took a deep breath before opening her mouth to speak again. "What would you say about a weekend in New York?"
XOXO
You can do this. Had she had more of a free-spirited, self-help-book-reader personality, those four words would have been posted on post-its all over the place. Then they would have been played on repeat on an mp3-player, perhaps even tattooed on her forehead. Because Blair felt she could really, really have used the unavoidable and continuous self-affirmations as she made her way down the aisle of the aircraft, towards her seat. She offered the flight attendant a weak smile, and sat down in the comfortable chair. She resisted the urge to tap her foot, and opted for flipping through the magazine in the seat pocket in front of her instead. Her date - she assumed she really should start calling him by his first name sometime soon, given that they had supposedly been dating for the last few months – Chuck, had asked to meet her onboard the plane due to some 'scheduling difficulties'. She had felt neither the need nor the wish to find out what kind of difficulties he was referring to, and had simply agreed without further questions.
She was coming to terms with the fact that all that was left for her to do was to keep her fingers crossed, and hope that he was as decent-looking (alright, slight understatement on her part) and charming that she vaguely remembered him to have been when they first met. Who knows, perhaps she had only imagined him to be, due to her then martini-induced state of mind?
Blair barely had time to finish her line of thought before Chuck showed up in the doorway, and she felt relief wash over her. She hadn't imagined any of those qualities, she realized, as he greeted the flight attendants. His attention leaving both of the uniform-clad women looking a little dazed. When his eyes landed on her, he raised his eyebrow in greeting, and she quickly got out of her chair. What was it about this man that had her on the edge of her seat simply from looking at her?
"Hey" Blair choked out nervously, taking in his blue shirt with the white collar and cuffs, the striped piece of silk around his neck and the dark slacks. She couldn't help but fear that someone would jump up from their expensive leather seat at any moment and yell; 'Look! That man's an escort!'. Either that, or 'Look, honey! A metrosexual!'.
"Blair," Chuck greeted her, and leaned in to plant a kiss on her cheek, discretely ignoring how her body went rigid at his touch. He was used to nervous 'virgins' and found them quite amusing to be honest, not that he ever let on to that. "Good to see you," He continued, gesturing for her to return to her seat and then sat down next to her.
Her hair was pulled back in a chignon today, and the cocktail dress had been replaced by a high-waist, black skirt and a white ruffle blouse. Her lips were pursed together so tightly had she not been wearing a deep shade of red lipstick they probably would have been ghostly white. She was fidgeting, twisting a golden ring with a ruby heart around her index finger repeatedly. Chuck reached out and placed his hand on hers, causing her to jolt and shoot him a shocked look.
"You really need to stop hyperventilating," he murmured, leaning in closer to her, "You can do this." Her hands stopped moving, and to her surprise she did feel a little further from a nervous breakdown. "You can go to New York, face your ex and make it through this weekend." Chuck continued, and for some reason she almost believed him. She had enlightened him briefly on the situation over the phone after blurting out her wish to take him to New York. He had been hesitant at first, and she had hastily declared that he was free to name his price. The last words had her blushing in a deep shade of crimson, thinking of how accurate the line really was in this case. He had not made any comments about her choice of words though, but simply agreed after a moment's consideration.
Blair looked over to him, and he offered her a champagne flute passed on to him by the flight attendant. Blair accepted it with a shaking hand, and downed the expensive liquid in one go. The bubbles in the drink did nothing to ease the nervous flutter in her stomach, and she was back to fidgeting with the cuff of her blouse, when Chuck's hand found hers once again.
"Blair, look at me." He murmured, and Blair lifted her gaze from her finger's nervous dance to look at him. "You can do this."
In that moment the plane took off down the airstrip, the g-force pushing them back into their seats. Blair realized that it really didn't matter whether or not she could do this, unless she decided to venture into skydiving within the next hours, she would simply have to.
XOXO
"Refresh my memory about the deal with this wedding," Chuck said, leaning back against the seat of the limo and looking over to the close-to-an-aneurysm brunette on the seat next to him. "And breathe while you're at it." He added the last part in a joking tone, and smirked as she shot him something that could only be described as the saying 'if looks could kill' embodied.
He had been more than surprised to find that there was no family or friends greeting them at the airport. The only welcoming committee had been a tall, dark-haired limo driver standing by the exit, holding a sign with her last name. Actually, what had puzzled him was that Blair seemed not to be the least bit surprised or upset by the whole thing. She had simply motioned to him to hand over their bags to the man, and gotten inside the limo without another word. When the driver told her of her mother's sincere apologies for not being there, Blair had only rolled her eyes and replied with a blatantly fake smile.
"The wedding is on Saturday," Blair began, busy applying a new coat of red lipstick. "My ex is marrying an old friend of ours. I have no desire to be there for that, we went through an extremely public break-up a little over two years ago, but not showing up would give the 'bored and botox-ed' too much to gossip about during their daily brunches. Besides, my mother does business with his family, so I'm expected to be there."
"You mentioned something about a friend of yours?" Chuck inquired, the strained tone in her voice not lost on him.
"Serena," Blair smiled, and for the first time she felt remotely happy to be in New York. She had missed her best friend. "You will love her, everyone does. She still sees Nate, my ex, a lot. She works at the same company as his new fiancée."
New fiancée, that gave away more than she probably have intended to share, and explained a lot when it came to the sadness in her eyes. "And we're staying at your mom's house?"
"Unfortunately, yes." Blair replied, the grim look back on her face. "You know those messed up families that really don't function, but you end up loving them anyway?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"My family's not like that." Blair said matter-of-factly, and had she not looked so completely serious he might have laughed at the comedy in her statement. "My mother and I do not see eye to eye, she takes pride in being critical and chronically disappointed. Her husband, Cyrus, is really nice though. I like him a lot. But he's my step-father so I guess he's more of a hostage, really."
"So it's more a case of the Stockholm Syndrome than a marriage?"
"Prominent psychoanalysts are still trying to decide."
Chuck let out a chuckle at that, and Blair couldn't help but join him. He had the most contagious laugh underneath that cocky smirk, but she assumed that was probably in the job description.
When the limo came to a stop outside her mother's building, Chuck was the first one to step out onto the sidewalk. Blair scooted across the seat and found his hand extended to her for support. When she got out of the vehicle the driver was busy placing their luggage onto a luggage trolley, ready to be wheeled inside by the doorman.
"Ms. Waldorf." The man greeted them, and Blair was about to reply when she felt a hand snake around her waist, the sudden physical contact causing her to nearly jump out of her own skin.
"What are you doing?" She hissed quietly at Chuck, but he did nothing but smirk and pull her closer to his side. He nodded at the man's question about handling their luggage for them, and began leading her towards the entrance.
"I do believe it's considered normal for a man to actually touch his supposed girlfriend." He murmured into her hair. "Now, let's go meet the parents."
XOXO
Review?! :)