A/N: So I hope things will start making sense with this for you guys. This is the shortest chapter I think I've written, but necessary. I hope you like!

Summary: "I couldn't pretend to understand the mind of a heathen like you," Blair said delicately. "I think you understand me more than you'd prefer to acknowledge," Chuck offered. "That's why you wonder what I think."

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Everything belongs to at least one GG universe. Thanks to my beta for this story, suspense girl.

Chuck was never fooled by outward appearances. Especially when it came to the holidays. He knew better. And when it came to this particular one, there was no other truth than that. The lights could shine red and green and every color of the rainbow, but that didn't change the fact that a hushed voice was spouting angrily from the inside of the bathroom.

He stood on the second floor of the penthouse, finding nothing better to do than listen to her lover's quarrel. It was better than being downstairs and feeling Eleanor Waldorf's cutting gaze.

Blair's was much better. As much as she hated him, at least she still respected him.

Christmas never fooled him.

"You need to stop calling me."

Chuck lounged against the railing, listening to her angry voice through the door casually.

"Whatever you say won't change anything."

He wondered if anyone else would be so entertained by it.

"Next time, I won't pick up."

The door snapped open and Chuck turned around smugly to see Blair's indignant eyes.

But that was the only attention he would get, because she went right along to ignoring him as she turned on her heel.

"Shouldn't you be stalking my brother?" she asked over her shoulder.

She just couldn't help herself. Even her cold shoulder came with a side of verbal barbs.

"He's helping your mother downstairs," Chuck spoke up. "There's never an event not to plan for."

He knew her statement was intended to be rhetorical, and yet Chuck couldn't pass up an opportunity to antagonize her. "I decided it was best to limit my proximity. I can't have her kick me out before Lily gets back. She doesn't like me much."

"My mother doesn't like anyone," Blair said. "Except Tyler."

"He is the exception."

"I'm sure my family has to do with why you're up here all alone," Blair said, "and nothing to do with what day it is."

Chuck's eyes hardened at the sudden attack.

He shouldn't have underestimated her.

If he abhorred anything about Blair Waldorf, it was her observation skills. He could expect everyone else to be afraid of mentioning the unmentionable, but Blair was cold. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do to torture him.

"He doesn't, does he?" Blair asked. "He doesn't have any idea what happened exactly 365 days ago. How does it feel to have everyone just forget about your father's brutal and tragic accident?"

"How does it feel to be betrayed by the person you love most?" he retorted easily. He never left anyone wanting.

"Excuse me?" Blair asked darkly.

"Who was on the phone?" Chuck smirked.

Blair paused before reluctantly tossing him a smirk of her own. She had to give him credit. He refused to give up territory to her. Just like she refused him.

And then she realized they were both smiling at each other.

"I still don't trust you," Blair warned him.

"Let's be honest," Chuck sighed, "you made that decision before you even spoke to me again."

"And me?"

Chuck hadn't been expecting that. "And you what?"

"What did you think about me?"

"Your compulsion to talk about yourself is impressive."

"Only to rival yours. But let me guess," Blair interjected. "You think I'm straitlaced, prim, proper-"

"Why do you care what I think?" Chuck asked.

"I know what you think," Blair continued, ignoring his inquiry. "You're not surprised to see your assumptions are exactly correct."

"You don't know what I think."

"I couldn't pretend to understand the mind of a heathen like you," Blair said delicately.

"I think you understand me more than you'd prefer to acknowledge," Chuck offered. "That's why you wonder what I think."

"No," Blair finished. "You're right. I don't care what you think. You're just someone who's corrupting my brother."

"And you're the pure godsend to set him on the right path," Chuck mocked. "Let me tell you something, princess. Your brother doesn't want to be saved. And you're fooling yourself if you think you're any different."

"Believe me. The day when I indulge in your depravity is the day—"

"Can the two of you just be civil for a minute while I'm gone?"

Both of them turned to see Tyler staring at them expectantly.

"And not a moment too soon," Chuck retorted. "Your sister was moments from castrating me."

"Believe me, I'd be doing the women of the world a favor," Blair slung back.

"Thanks, but I prefer my anatomy intact," Chuck replied.

"You're the only one," Blair sneered.

"I have verification from at least half the models in the city that you couldn't be more wrong."

"Well if poster girls for functioning anorexics say so, then it must be true," Blair spat.

"You're one to talk about food neurotics—"

"We're going downstairs now," Tyler interrupted before Blair could release her fury.

He pulled Chuck away from her, leading him downstairs, away from the demise that was waiting at the top of the stairs.

"What the hell was that?"

"What?" Chuck asked. "I can't help it if your sister has it out for me."

"That wasn't defense," Tyler said. "That was personal. Blair is…complicated. And my sister. You can't talk to her like that."

"Complicated," Chuck scoffed.

"Why did you say that?" Tyler asked, ignoring his best friend's disbelief.

"Because it's true," Chuck said. "You know it is."

"It doesn't mean we talk about it."

"We?" Chuck asked. "You mean your family."

"It's not exactly supposed to be public knowledge."

"Because it would embarrass Eleanor?"

"Blair and my mother have a complex relationship," Tyler said. "Don't let what Blair says about her make you take her too seriously."

"And what do I think?" Chuck asked. "As far as I can tell, your mother is a neglectful, critical cliché of the Upper East Side."

"She loves us," Tyler said, unfazed by the insult.

"Maybe that's true," Chuck said, "but she doesn't show it very well."

"Now Blair isn't such a mystery," Tyler said.

"There's always a reason why people act the way they do."

"Blair acts the way she acts because she cares," Tyler said. "She's harmless. She just provokes you because she's being protective."

"Protective."

"She thinks she's helping," Tyler said. "She took it upon herself to protect me. Especially after Father left. Nate always resented her for it."

"And we've come right to it," Chuck said. "Nathaniel."

"I wouldn't get too attached."

"They're over."

"Not exactly," Tyler said. "They are taking an abnormally long time to die."

"So you heard their arguments on the phone too," Chuck mused.

"Nate is a part of Blair's juvenile past," Tyler said. "Blair re-prioritized her life and grew out of him."

"But she's still with him."

"Evidently."

Tyler's voice was distant and it took Chuck a moment to realize who had just walked through the elevator doors.

"What is she doing here?"

Serena van der Woodsen walked right past them without a backward glance. Even to her adoptive brother

"Blair," Tyler replied obviously.

In a moment, it wouldn't have even mattered what questions there were because the house's silence was suddenly shattered.

"I thought we could talk. Please, Blair."

Serena's voice was so desperate that it echoed around the now silent house.

"I must have blanked on the part where I invited you over."

"I just wanted to explain—"

"Explain how you betrayed me? For months."

"I didn't mean it."

"So it was an accident."

"No, that's not what I meant."

"I always knew you were a whore. I never took you for a liar too."

With that everything was silent.

All the silence was met with was a door slam and the sobs of a guilty blonde.