Title: A Week of Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf
Author: BookCaseGirl (Abby)
Date: June 15, 2009 (Beginning) June 16, 2009 (Most recent update)
Status: On-going for about a week.
Rating: T
Classification: Fluff, fluff, fluff.
Summary: After 2x25 and the Chuck/Blair 'I love you' scene. The week following Chuck's confession and the beginning of a Chair relationship. Series of very fluffy oneshots; one for each day.
Author's Note: Okay, ladies and gents. I got alert after alert after alert for the beginning of this. Can I please have some reviews? I adore all of you that alerted; I can tell that you love the story just as much, and for whatever reason you just didn't review and that's totally fine. I just like reviews more; call me a greedy bitch. So please. Please please please. Oh, and I'd like to thank 'vict' – an anonymous reviewer – for leaving a review. Thanks!
Special Note: I do not own Gossip Girl and this is not beta'd.
Lunch
"Let's do lunch, Blair," Chuck said into the end of his BlueTooth. He was in the back of the limo, doing basically nothing else - or anyone else since they had gone 'exclusive'- yet he still had a BlueTooth. It was just a right of passage for a business man once he reached that special place on the corporate ladder.
"I could probably be there at twelve for half an hour..." she said, sounding somewhat distracted. "I do have things to attend to."
"Of course. You must be aware that my situation is much the same." This whole business role-playing was turning him on in the weirdest of weird ways. "I have places to see, people to do. Well, one person in particular to -"
"Enough, Bass. I'll see you at twelve," she said, and he heard a click followed by a dial-tone as she hung up on him.
How very rude, he thought, slightly scorned. He collected himself and dialed the café to place a reservation. Twelve o'clock, right on the dot. And they would be there, knowing Blair and her punctuality. It was in the Waldorf blood – one of the many things he had learned about her over the course of well...basically their entire lives?
**********
Blair twirled the final curl of her hair and fluffed the end of it as she studied the rest of her appearance in the – 'ew' implied – public bathroom. What could she say? She was in a rush and incredibly desperate times called for atrociously desperate measures, right?
She replaced her headband atop her mass of brown and bouncy curls and then sauntered out, trying to maintain some composure. Blair strode over to the table that Chuck had reserved for them both and sat down, waiting. He was late, but somehow she was used to it. It was only about the second or third occurrence during which he had not been on time, and she knew that it was just work.
Blair trusted Chuck. Because he had let his guard down and told her that he loved her; that was the true definition of a ready-to-settle-down Bass man. And she would sit through whatever she needed to in order to keep that man in tact and well polished.
**********
"I'm so sorry," he said, somewhat in a rush. His leather briefcase fell from his hands to the floor in an instant with a dull thump, but he payed no attention to it. Now was the time to focus on Blair, while she was still in front of him.
He continued to rant profusely, "There was this meeting and they needed my signature of approval for this damned document that is so completely useless that I'm wasting your time even mentioning it."
"It's fine Chuck," Blair stated simply during a breathing period for Chuck.
"Really? Well, that's...good," he said, smirking with satisfaction. "Just had to make sure your stockings didn't get in a bunch. We'd hate for that to happen." He winked suggestively as he opened his menu and began to peruse the expensive lunch choices.
Their waiter came in what seemed like mere seconds after he had arrived. Fortunately for Chuck, he had mentioned needing to leave for lunch at the café – so appropriately titled Café – and one of the guys at work who had eaten there before had recommended the tilapia, saying it was the 'best damn fish on the east coast.'
Blair ordered a simple garden salad mumbling something about having had a big breakfast. Chuck intended to force-feed her some of the killer tilapia, if it was the last thing he did on this earth.
Moments later – wow, that was fast; maybe this restaurant really wasn't as great as he'd heard? - their food arrived and Blair stared down skeptically at her salad. It looked like about three large pieces of lettuce and a few almonds.
Chuck's fish, however, looked excellent. It had pepper sprinkled all over the top and as he cut into it, the knife slipped through easily as if going through butter. He chewed thoughtfully on his fish and swallowed, smirking only slightly – and desperately trying to conceal it – for Blair's benefit as the delicious taste lingered on his tongue.
Looking over at Blair, he noticed that she was simply picking at her food, tossing a few almonds off to the side with the third tiny prong of her fork. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and smiled weakly. He knew that look all too well. It was her overly polite smile, and he could always read right through it.
Going through her mind at that moment was thoughts of how unskilled Chuck was at choosing a proper place to dine. She was thinking that next time, she should beat him to the punch and pick a place to eat.
He would just have to prove her wrong then, wouldn't he?
**********
Blair watched wearily as Chuck held up his fork with a small bite of fish on it. It did smell positively divine, and she was sure one little bite wouldn't really hurt her.
"Would you like a bite?" Chuck asked, swirling the fork up in the air and around in a small circle. He was patronizing her in a way. Doing that little airplane thing that was only done to small children. She hated being treated this way, but she was hungry as hell.
She batted her eyelashes flirtatiously, and nodded before she responded. "I would love to, Bass." A real smile spread on her face and her gaze flickered from his face to the fork and back again as it began its journey to her lips.
The taste was considerably better than she had anticipated. Sure, it was just a fish. A piece of food loaded with that dreaded chemical of mercury – oh, the stories that she had heard about it! But the way that it slid around on her anxiously waiting tongue; it was almost orgasmic.
She noticed his eyes cloud over and his fork speared another piece. She must have really had him going.
**********
He hadn't had any idea how much the way that she ate would affect him. Chuck felt a rumble low in his stomach, yet he kept feeding her fish, just to watch the look on her face as he did. Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head and he felt his insides light up on fire.
Never had Chuck Bass thought that he would be the one feeding Blair fish at a café off of his fork as if they were an old married couple. He had always pictured Nate in that role. Nathanial had always seemed more...willing to do the husbandly role-playing that Blair required as part of her boyfriend's résumé.
She had changed Chuck though. And even he could admit that it had been for the better. He was ready to be that guy for Blair because what he felt for her was so foreign to his body, mind and soul and he intended to further explore it. Chuck wanted to have a real relationship – finally – and who better to feed scrumtious food to than Blair Waldorf, with her plump, ruby red lips?
That was right. No one.
Author's Note: I think at the end of every chapter I'll give a little teaser on what's on the agenda for the following day in Chuck and Blair's week. So, coming up next:
It's a sick day at the Waldorf residence. Blair gets sick and Chuck comes to take care of her. But what they didn't know was that whatever Blair had was extremely contagious.