Chapter Three: Fatal Oxygen

"Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell." ~ Fr. Jerome Cummings

***

The light blared in through the open window, boring through Blair's closed eyelids. Chuck must have forgotten to close the shades last night. The cold sheet Blair's hand found on the other side of the bed was enough to remind her: she was the one who had forgotten to close the shades when she had fallen into bed in the early hours of the morning. Chuck was at the police station.

Blair released an exasperated sigh as she pulled herself out of bed and wandered out of their bedroom. She stubbed her toe on the couch when she went to turn the television on. "Ouch!" she shrieked. Muting the television, she dialed down to room service. She was going to need a serious caffeine fix if she wanted to make it until sunset without a power nap. And Waldorfs did not take power naps.

Chuck had better be back soon. The weekends were their time together, which was part of the reason she had been so upset at his extended absence yesterday. It was already well into Sunday morning and the only time she had spent with Chuck had been at a police station. Not exactly the walks through Central Park, or better yet the days in, the couple usually shared on a lazy Sunday morning. Blair was even willing to consider putting off the inevitable fight she was planning on forcing about Chuck's recent neglect of their relationship in favor of...other activities.

Blair's meandering thoughts were rudely interrupted by a knock on the door. "This better be my coffee," she muttered to herself. She flung the door open, ready to reprimand the room service employee on the exorbitant amount of time he had taken, even though it was untrue. But it wasn't a hotel employee standing on the other side.

"Jack," she gasped.

He strode through the door before Blair had time to register what was happening, nevertheless decide how she felt about this unexpected development.

Jack made straight for the bar, pouring himself a scotch, and turning back towards Blair. "I'm guessing from your adorably aghast expression that my dear nephew didn't find it relevant to inform you that I'm back in town," he said before taking a large gulp.

Blair had regained her bearings, and was now quite sure of her opinion of this turn of events: she wanted Jack gone. Gone from her apartment, gone from the city, gone from the country. The farther, the better. In the mean time, she didn't want Jack to see how much his being here affected her. At least, anymore than he already had.

"Chuck has been very busy with work these past week, Jack." Blair replied, hands on hips, "I'm sure he just hadn't gotten around to it." She was, in fact, very angry with Chuck. How could he not tell her this? Was this why he had been acting so distant lately? She had thought their days of lying were behind them.

"Isn't that sweet and naïve. Thinking Chuck would actually let someone fully into his life," Jack taunted with a smirk. "Actually, Blair. I've been back in town for weeks now, working alongside your boyfriend," he said the word with an air of disgust, "everyday. In fact, I probably see him more than you do." Blair's eyes flared with this new piece of information. They were definitely going to have a talk about this.

What to do about Jack, though? She was definitely failing on the whole "don't let Jack see he's getting to you" front, but she'd rather cut her losses, than spend another 5 minutes in a room with him. "Well, Jack, it's been nice catching up," she said sarcastically, stepping to the open door, "but I actually have a full day ahead of me, so..." She motioned towards the open door.

Jack raised his eyebrows and lowered his glass, but didn't move towards the door. "Well, you're certainly taking this well. I thought I would find you distraught and in need of comfort." His eyes scanned her body suggestively. "And you know how I like to be there for you in your time of need."

Blair wrapped her arms around her body. Her robe suddenly felt very thin. Thankfully, when she spoke, her voice did not betray any of her uneasiness, "First of all: gross. Second of all: Chuck's been arrested before. I think I can handle it. I'm not under any illusions my boyfriend is a saint. Now, please, leave."

Jack chuckled cruelly, as he poured himself another drink.. "This is better than I thought. I just came over her to rub Chuck's arrest in your face, point out that you chose the wrong Bass, but to get to see your face when you hear the news..."

Blair's stomach dropped slightly. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice faltering a bit.

Jack crept closer, smirking, "It seems dear old Chuck has been arrested for rape. And it turns out, they frown upon that sort of thing down at the station. Be a bit hypocritical for me to judge him for the crime, wouldn't it? But to let the bitch turn him in? That's just sloppy." Blair felt sick, though she wasn't sure if it was because of Jack's words or his sudden proximity to her. He reached out and touched her stomach, she could smell the alcohol in his breath, but she remained frozen, had to hear the rest of his words.

"I was just down there, and it seems, they are not going to be letting him out anytime soon. Guess that conversation about me is going to have to wait. So, how about that comfort?" Blair tensed as she suddenly realized how Jack was hovering over her.

Her eyes welled with tears as she rose them to meet Jack's, inches from her own face. "Get. Out," she growled.

Jack smirk widened into a toothy grin, as he wrapped his arm around her back and forced her struggling body against him. He smashed his lips against her own, forcing her mouth open. Though she had tasted the liquor in Chuck's kisses dozens of time before, the flavor now stung like acid as Jack forced his scotch-soaked tongue inside her mouth. Blair brought her hands up to his chest and tried to push him away, but to no avail. Blair's head became dizzy with panic just as a sound at the door seized Jack's attack.

A room service employee stood in the open doorway, eyes wide and tray of coffee in hand. "Excuse me, Ms. Waldorf. You ordered room service," he spoke softly, embarrassed.

Blair stared at the man for a good five seconds, the situation having changed so drastically and unexpectedly in such a short amount of time, before responding. "Of course," she mumbled because that seemed the only thing to say, before gesturing him in and distancing herself from Jack. "Please put it on the table." She glanced at Jack who was now glaring at the hotel employee.

The man placed the tray on the table before turning back around. "Will there be anything else, Ms. Waldorf?" he asked.

"Yes, could you please escort Mr. Bass out of the building," Blair instructed, her head starting to clear. "Thank you." She met the man's eyes. To think just moments before she was ready to yell at him for no particular reason. She stuffed a generous wad of cash into the man's hand, though it seemed an insignificant amount for what he had just saved her from.

The man gestured towards the door, "After you, Mr. Bass." Jack stole one last look at Blair before setting his scotch glass down, and storming out the door.

"I'll see you soon, Blair," he spat, the smirk back on his face.

Blair shut the door behind them and latched both locks. She peered out the peek hole before setting her back against the hard door. She took a deep breath in, but the air tasted stale. Her breathing became labored as she sucked air into her nose and mouth again and again before forcing it out just as quickly, hoping for a different result.

Her hand flew to her mouth and her stomach churned dangerously as she realized it was her body that was spoiling the air. She dashed to the bathroom, not making it to the toilet and emptying her stomach into the bathtub again and again until there was nothing left. Blair turned on the shower, washing the evidence away before peeling off her robe and stepping under the hot water herself.