The fever's gonna catch you when the bitch gets back'.

"Come on," Serena laughed. She'd been skimming through the photos on Blair's phone for the past several minutes. "You're telling me there's no gossip at all?"

Blair shook her head with another sip of her green tea. "None," she pronounced drily. "I told you, S. Bedtimes and study hours don't make for the most exciting life. Boarding school is...still school." She brushed her hair behind her ears. "Dull."

Serena continued to scan the phone.

"Well, these guys don't look dull." She passed through skiing and choir trips, landing on the shot of a single guy. "Mmm, like this one." She thrust the picture in front of her best friend. "Who is this? And if you took this photo, what's with the smile he's giving you?"

Blair spared it a glance, then pulled a face. "Damien Dalgaard. Trust me, nothing interesting there."

But Serena was looking at her expectantly. "Come on! What's the story?"

Blair wrinkled her nose. "There's none."

"Well, it looks like he wishes there was."

"That's because he's a lech," Blair responded disgustedly. She was about to say something else when a shadow fell across the table. She glanced up, adorable smile sliding into place. "Oh, and speaking of leches..."

He'd heard her laugh mingling with Serena's when he'd woken up; he grinned down at her now. They were on the terrace in their pyjamas, sunlight slanting off heads dark and gold. Except Serena's hair was mussed with morning sleep where Blair's was carefully brushed, flawless in her cream night slip and bare arms pale in the morning light.

"Please," Chuck pressed. "Don't let me stop the reminiscing." He gave Serena a knowing look. "Waldorf's been most reserved about her time away, don't you think?" He leaned on the glass table, radiating casual arrogance as his eyes moved back to Blair's. "I think she's hiding something."

She pursed her lips at him. But she didn't bother retorting - because she really wasn't hiding anything. Or at least not anything interesting.

Judging from the mountain of food surrounding them, Serena had put the Bass chef to work. She was currently tearing into a huge croissant, a stark contrast to her best friend.

He dropped down opposite Blair as he reached for black coffee. "Sleep well?"

His gaze was lavicious - he knew the girls had shared a bed last night.

The brunette gave him a little kick under the table. Smirking, he caught her bare leg in between his. Not to be outdone, her foot slid up his calf, pulling a face as she slid another grape into her mouth.

"Wonderfully."

He smirked again and drained his coffee. Blair rolled her eyes at him and helped herself to more grapes, aware of him watching her lips and the arch of her foot still against his bare leg.

Then Carter slouched in and abruptly put an end to any footsie as he plonked down beside his sister.

"This coffee tastes like piss," he drawled. He was already helping himself to pancakes and blueberry sauce, pausing only once he noticed Blair's empty plate to drop a stack in front of her. "And I don't know what the hell you put in those margaritas last night, van der Woodsen, but you're not going near the cocktail bar again."

Blair tilted her head at him. "I see someone's in a lovely mood."

Carter grunted. "What are you up to today?"

Serena was already stretching, content, as she answered for her. "We're on holiday." She exchanged a grin with her best friend. "So, lounging around in pyjamas."

"Not bikinis?" Chuck enquired.

Carter followed his gaze to Blair's exposed neck and shoulders. His eyes narrowed as he glanced back at his friend. "You are not. Go get dressed."

Serena shot him a glare. "Hey, spoilsport! Stop telling her what to do."

"Actually," Blair chirped, "We were planning on going shopping."

Serena's eyes widened in horror at the idea of physical activity. "B," she whined. "Come on, I told you I didn't-"

"Sounds good to me." Carter tossed his coffee into the nearest bush. "Don't forget sunscreen."

Blair had already leapt to her feet, pancakes untouched as she reached for Serena. "Oh, brother," she sighed sweetly. "What would I do without your guidance?" She wrapped her arms around his neck, at his scowl, and yanked at Serena again. "Come on, S. Bendels awaits."

She flounced off, the blonde dragging her heels behind her.

Carter said nothing, but his eyes were still narrowed on Chuck as the other boy watched her go. The slip clung to the curve of her hips so tantalisingly that Chuck was sure she'd planned it that way, down her narrow waist to the silk that brushed her pale thighs.

He finally sighed, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

Carter just gave him a look.

Chuck strode into the darkened bedroom, spying a messy blond head at one end of the bed. He rolled his eyes and flung open the curtains.

There was a groan of pain from the bunched up covers.

"Rise and shine, Nathaniel." Chuck smoothed his hair in the mirror, ignoring the confused grumblings behind him. "I'm bored. We're going into town."

More grumblings; it took Chuck a moment to decipher something like take Carter. Hangovers did not agree with his usually sanguine best friend.

"He's got a lunch date. So chop chop. I expect you down in the foyer in ten." He paused a moment, taking in the familiar morning smell. "And Archibald? Shower's non-negotiable."

"What about this one?" Serena asked, hope tinging her exasperation. She adored shopping, but at the moment the though of an ice cold latte was far more tempting. Proof that hangovers and heels did not go hand in hand.

The hope didn't last long once she saw the expression on her best friend's face.

"What," Blair said slowly, "Is that?"

So, Serena hadn't been shopping with her in a while - but she was sure the brunette had got even more fussy. And while she loved Blair for it, she really did want that latte.

"You said you wanted an LBD," she pouted.

"A little black dress, Serena. That's not even a top!"

"Come on," the blonde protested, laughing. "It's sexy." She held it against herself. "Ok, it's a little short on me. But on you-"

"No."

By this point they'd caught the shopkeeper's attention, something that was inevitable whenever Serena was around. And he could tell at a glance that the beautiful girls had money to spend.

"If you don't mind me saying, miss, I think it would really suit you."

Blair barely spared him a withering glance. "I do mind you saying. Go fold something." She'd turned back to the racks before Serena even had the chance to flash the man an apologetic look.

Sighing, she grabbed her best friend's arm. "Blair. Come on." Her tone was firm. "You've graduated high school. You're moving back to the city, and you're starting college. And," she added, dazzling, "You have a whole summer ahead of you with your best friend." Blair couldn't stop a reluctant smile at that. Serena leaned into her arm, knowing she was winning. "Don't you think it's time for a little adventure?"

"But-"

"No buts," she interrupted, bossy for once. Though the stupid grin on her face ruined the effect a little. "You're back, B. It's time you showed it!"

Blair's mouth twitched. "Please. You just want me to buy something so you can get lunch."

"A latte, actually," Serena beamed. She was already steering her smaller friend into the changing room, pushing the dress into her arms. "And you're not allowed to say no until I've seen it!"

Serena jumped as a pair of warm hands covered her eyes, turning into the embrace of her boyfriend.

Nate smiled at her, hair rumpled and his own blue eyes still cloudy with sleep. She laughed, latte momentarily forgotten as she returned his kiss. She inhaled the scent of his clean Armani shirt and peppermint toothpaste.

"What are you doing out of bed?" she asked playfully.

His grin was simple, content to be teased. "Well," he murmured, "I wanted breakfast, and you weren't there..."

"And we might have got here sooner if that hadn't taken him so long to work out." Chuck leaned against the door frame with a sigh. He'd already scanned the room, past the couple currently all over each other. "Where's Waldorf?"

Serena gestured to the shop next door. "She's trying on a dress." She glanced down at the latte, sheepish. "I should probably get back."

Chuck was already halfway out the door. "Don't bother. You can keep Archibald amused."

Serena and Nate exchanged a glance, shaking their heads a little. But they were more than happy to go back to kissing. Nate grinned dozily. "What about late lunch?"

Blair eyed the dress.

She'd been right. Of course. It was far too slutty for her. She would never wear something like this in public. The plunging sweetheart neck line, the tight bodice and short flared skirt...it was a Serena dress.

Speaking of - where was her awful best friend? No doubt she'd snuck off for that damn latte.

"Serena," she snapped, tugging at the skirt again. Actually, the dress would go well with those Gucci stilettos she'd bought last month. If she ever lost all mental capacity and considered wearing it out. "Congratulations Serena," she called again, impatient. "You've found the perfect dress. Perfect for when I drop out of Columbia and take to the streets." No reposnse. "I'm taking it off!" she called.

"Oh, please do."

Her heart leapt into her throat and she spun, cursing, to see an idle hand push aside the curtain.

"Chuck!" she screeched. "Out!"

He ignored her, of course. His eyes gleamed dark as his head slid around the red material, eyeing her appreciatively.

"I'd be more than happy to fund your wardrobe for a career on the streets." There was silence as his golden eyes raked over her, revelling in the material on her skin. And to her fury, she felt a flush starting to rise. "Blair Waldorf," he murmured. "All grown up."

"Chuck Bass," she snit. "Still a pervert."

He smirked like she'd paid him the greatest compliment in the world, and she was reminded of the little boy who'd lifted up her skirt with the same expression.

She hit him. Hard. "Get out!"

"Only if you promise to buy that dress," he laughed. "Though," he reflected, "I doubt Carter would let you out in it. Pity."

She lifted her chin, eyes narrowed. "So maybe I'll buy it just for that." Her voice was smooth, and Chuck's eyes lit up.

"In that case-"

"Out," she snapped. "Now."

Rolling his eyes, he sauntered out.

It was only when she turned to the zipper - reaching for her normal dress ready to slip on quick - that she realised it wasn't there.

Her normal dress, that was.

The decent one.

"BASS!"

She could hear his low chuckle outside. He sounded immensely pleased with himself, the motherchucker.

"Bass," she hissed. She whipped aside the curtain, nails pressed into the wall as her gaze zeroed in on him. The peach day dress was slung casually over his shoulder. "You have three seconds to return my clothes to me. Three-"

But Chuck had already tipped her a wink and disappeared.

"Chuck!" She tried to keep her voice down, aware that there were people outside. And of course he didn't re-emerge. So she had no choice but to follow him out of the changing rooms and into the shop. She scowled, hands tight at her side as she stalked out - she was damned if she was going to show any sign of hesitation.

The first thing she saw, of course, was the shopkeeper she'd dismissed earlier.

His smile was instant. "Miss, that dress is delightful. An excellent choice-"

"Excuse me."

She walked straight past him, eyes seeking one figure and one figure alone. One unbearably smarmy figure that was currently leaning against the shop counter, dress in hand. She was going to kill him.

"Ah," he smiled. "There's my girlfriend now. It seems she loves it so much she wants to wear it out."

It was worth it for the barely contained fury etched in every angle of her face. Except Blair Waldorf could never lose it in public. "I'm not," she smiled at the cashier between ground teeth, "His girlfriend. And I won't be buying this dress." Her fingers tightened around Chuck's jacket. "Sweetie." She yanked him, hard. He grinned even through his wince of pain. "Can I talk to you a moment?"

It wasn't a question - but before she had chance to drag him back to the changing room, he'd slipped his arm around her waist and was leading her into a corner. So they were still in public.

"Is there a problem?" he smiled ingratiatingly. "Honey?"

"My dress. Now."

"You're wearing you dress," he smirked; and he seemed to take great pleasure in drawing out, "Darling."

She glared up at him. There was a pause - and then she lunged for the dress at the same time as he whipped it out of her reach.

Smug, he tapped her nose like a naughty child. "Uh-uh, Blair bear."

It was all she could do not stamp her foot. She was shaking with rage as she faced him, and she knew full well she'd reached a stand-off. The only way she'd get her dress back now was to make a scene. And Blair Waldorf was far too well-bred for that.

Besides, it would be giving him exactly what he wanted. She'd played enough dare games with him to know that he got off on public humiliation.

Which meant that...really, there was only one thing she could do. She straightened. He paused, sensing the look that had entered her eyes. Blair Waldorf never backed down from a game. And she never lost.

"Fine," she smiled.

She turned on her heel, heading straight for the front door. Could she do this? She pictured Chuck's smirk. Yes. She could.

"I'll be taking the dress," she called over her shoulder as she marched past the cashier. She barely paused to add, "My boyfriend will pick up the tab."

And then she'd left the shop with a snap of the door.

Serena was right.

Blair Waldorf was back.

Nate was in the middle of sipping his coffee, gaze on Serena, when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Blinking, he turned his full attention to the scene on the street.

"Whoa."

Serena turned too - and her mouth dropped, too, when she saw their best friend. Wearing the black dress. "I was right," she cried in delight. "It looks amazing on her!"

But the blonds were already on their feet and heading out of the cafe as they saw Chuck catch up with her. They exchanged another glance.

Chuck had caught Blair's arm.

"All right, Waldorf," he murmured against her. "Touche. You've made your point." He glanced around the relatively empty street. "Now are you going to come back inside before you give that geriatric a heart attack?" There was amusement underneath it, though, laced with deep admiration.

Blair gave him a charming smile. "I don't think so."

Serena and Nate arrived at that moment. "Hi guys." It seemed to only just have occurred to Nate that Blair was a girl; he looked genuinely torn between loss and entertainment. "Uh...what's going on?" He'd also noticed his best friend's hand on her.

"S." Blair removed herself from Chuck's grasp. "Just in time. Sorry, Nate - we have shopping to get back to." Serena tried very hard not to laugh as Blair linked their arms together.

Sighing, Chuck held out her normal dress. "Ok. You win. Now are you coming?"

Blair plucked the dress out of his hands. She avoided his offered arm, still holding onto Serena as the girls moved past him. "You can get me an ice tea while you're waiting." She flashed him a smirk, though.

And he and Nate were too busy watching the girls leave to notice a gawping twelve year old - Chuck Bass, she'd seen Chuck Bass! - stop the camera on her cell phone and hit send.

Damien slammed his laptop shut. He'd finished replaying the short video for the tenth time; and still his blood seethed with bitter jealousy, sick to his stomach.

He'd stayed in Manhattan before - long enough to hear about Gossip Girl. And he'd figured Blair would be one of her prime targets once she moved back. He just hadn't realised it would be this quick.

Guess who's back? The caption read. There were stills underneath; stills of her in the most mouth-watering black dress he'd ever seen. And what the hell - she was in public, in a dress like that? Years of pencil skirts and high necked blouses, and this was what he got the second she moved away?

And it got worse.

That's right, boys and girls - Blair Waldorf is back. We haven't seen B since her big bro carted her off to boardng school in regions unknown - and it looks like one Bass is even happier than we are to see her again. If these two partners in crime are reunited, Manhattan better watch out.

Damien knew about Chuck Bass. Who didn't?

He'd never met the boy face to face, but he'd done his research. He'd read enough of the texts and emails he'd sent Blair over the years to hate him instantly. A feeling that was only reconfirmed, now, when he saw the Basstard's hand close on Blair's slender arm. When he saw the look in his eyes, even over video.

And a thousand times worse - the look Blair gave him back.

It wasn't fucking fair.

Damien had come very close to having Blair Waldorf once upon a time. They were both striving, both clever; and on paper, he was perfect. She'd said yes when he'd asked her out. Except he'd been a horny fourteen year-old, and his mind had been on one thing. And at that stage, he hadn't been obssessed enough with her to wait.

The date had been going perfectly until he'd sat her down on a bench and they'd started kissing. She'd been wearing a black dress then - though it was nothing like the thing in that video - long sleeved and scoop necked. And she'd worn tights underneath.

He knew because he'd moved his hand there. She'd told him to stop, and he'd been too eager to listen. Too insistent, too impatient. The result had been a slapped face as she'd stormed off.

He'd called her a prude and slept with the class slut a week later. Except all he could think about was the frigid bitch who'd refused him - and she'd haunted his sleep ever since.

And here she was, with Chuck Bass no less. Wearing a skimpy dress with him. For him? She was going to let Chuck Bass fuck her. Damien could see it already. Precious Chuck Bass, with his childhood claim on her.

How the hell was he supposed to compete with that?

Evelyn Bass came down the stairs just as the four of them spilled through the front door. They were laughing about something, laden with drinks and bags from a clearly delightful shopping trip. She stood there, tall and haughty in a silk nightrobe, dark eyes surveying them in silence. She had Chuck's slanted cheek bones - without an inch of compassion. Were she not so terrifying, she might have been beautiful.

Her sharp gaze landed on Blair Waldorf as the laughter died.

She wanted to say that the girl was the spit of her mother; but Eleanor had never been that small, nor that pale. At least her prim china doll vibe - the doe eyes and tasteful peach dress - fit the required image perfectly.

And Evelyn was even more pleased to see Chuck's hand near the small of her back, her shopping bags clearly in his hold. He'd already started reeling her in. Perfect.

She wasn't blind; she was aware, vaguely, of the fondness Chuck had for his childhood friend. The same fondness, she mused, that one might bestow on their favourite pet. And by the looks of things, Blair Waldorf would make a very good pet. The childhood link was definitely something Evelyn could manipulate to her favour.

No doubt Blair was as cunning as her mother and brother, but Evelyn's killer instinct had already sensed that fragility. Insecurity and vulnerability that she could exploit.

That she knew Chuck could exploit.

"Blair."

She smiled. (Serena and Nate stepped closer to each other without thinking; they could have sworn the temperature dropped a few degrees). Blair moved forwards, obedient, as Evelyn swept towards her.

She pulled the child into an embrace, tilting her face up to her with a single finger.

"Just like your mother," she murmured. There was a cold pat on top of her head - "Eleanor would have been proud." She didn't miss the flicker of pain in Blair's eyes before the mask went back up.

Easy.

"I hope you're taking good care of her, Charles?"

Chuck's nod was terse; she smiled and ignored him.

"I'm having a party tonight. You must come." She hardly bothered looking at Nate and Serena. "All four of you. It's lovely seeing you back together again." She was about to add something else - but Chuck was already herding Blair out and away from her.

"We have plans tonight."

"So cancel them." Evelyn's voice was pure frost. Even Nate and Serena paused in their woman smiled once more. "I'll see you at eight."