A/N Yeah, so I forgot the disclaimer. Though we all probably know I don't own anything. Nothing, nothing at all… But I do know someone who worked at the GG set! My best friend's father use to do something like producing or something. I got an offer to meet the cast, but my annoying father and stepmother didn't let me go. I still hold a grudge to them. I HAD THE CHANCE TO MEET ED WESTWICK! ED. WESTWICK. He's my favourite actor of all times. And he's awesome. And I'm so mad I didn't meet him. So mad.
Well, I don't own anything, except for Christine, since I made her up and she's based on me (character and actions).
Before I start, I just need to be freaked out about the fact that both Michelle Trachtenberg (Georgina) and that dude that played Aaron made a guest appearance on Criminal Minds… this can't be coincidence, right? They must have a goal of casting all the Gossip Girl stars… please let Ed Westwick and Leighton Meester appear together, as an evil, killing, Bonnie and Clyde (I love Bonnie and Clyde) couple… please? I'm literally praying for this to happen…
"B, are you okay?" Serena asked worried as the three of them returned. Blair nodded and glanced at Serena's four children who were swimming at the pool. She and Rose hade made up, although neither of them was upset with the other.
"We're fine. I'm fine. Everything is perfectly fine." She muttered and Christine looked at her, slightly worried. She was still shivering but not as bad as in the bathroom of the event. Distracted, she pulled off her heels and stumbled bare foot to the mansion.
"Well, your sister looks worse than you, Rose and Blair combined," Nate joked while he looked at Chuck. He didn't react at his friend, but glared at Blair instead. For the first time in his life he was worried. Worried about someone else than himself or Blair.
"What happened?" the brunette asked. She only shrugged and held her daughter's hand even tighter.
"She does that sometimes. Run off without shoes."
Chuck nodded, not fully satisfied with her answer. He turned to Nate and Serena, who were staring at them. Serena quickly looked away, but his best friend did not.
"Well, Rose and I are going back to the mansion now," she stated, looking at Serena, "Make sure you tell Eva to clean the pool after your kids are done."
It surprised them how normal and friendly was to them. The old Blair could never do that. She'd always hold a grudge. They turned their backs to them slowly. Blair's eyes still connected with those of Chuck. Neither of them broke away, it was Rose who practically dragged her mother back to the house, saying French things in a mocking tone.
"She has really changed," Nate said, sounding astonished.
"Well, that's what time and having kids do to you, Nathaniel. Even you should know that." Chuck drawled. He expected Serena to roll her eyes at him, but when he looked at her, she only stared right back.
"Can I get you anything, Serena?" he said. Not reacting, she kept staring at him. Her blue eyes held an emotion he hadn't notice on her ever before.
"Do you still… care about Blair?" she asked softly. Chuck froze. Care about Blair? Of course he did. It was impossible for him not to care for her.
"Chuck?" Serena nudged him in the side. Slowly, he looked up to her. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Sorry. What did you say again?" he muttered. He hadn't forgotten Serena's at all. He just didn't know how to answer. Serena repeated her question.
"Do you or do you not still care for Blair?" she asked, this time sounding slightly threatening.
"Why do you ask?" he answered.
"Because she is my best friend."
"No, Serena. That's where you are wrong. She was your best friend. You've been replaced. By my sister, if I recall." He retorted coldly and cleared his throat, ignoring Serena's insulted look. "I'm going back. Drink and sleep or something. Don't let you spawn drown. It would be a waste."
He left the Archibald's alone and headed back, still in his tux.
"He's not okay." Nate whispered as he embraced his wife and pulled her into a kiss. Serena shook her head while her lips were still on top of his.
"No," she mumbled and after a second kiss, she continued. "But neither is she."
Behind them, a small voice sounded.
"Mommy? I'm tired. Can you bring me back to my room?"
They turned around and saw Brooke pouting her small lips.
"Sure, sweetie," Nate smiled, releasing Serena and grabbing his daughter's wheelchair. "Let me bring you back while mommy deals with your brother and sisters." He flashed a smile at Serena, but she was already at the pool. While Nate pushed the wheelchair, Brooke happily chatted away.
"And… and then… Katie said-" she squeals in delight.
"Yes, honey, I know. I was there, remember?"
Disappointed, Brooke stopped talking. Instead she looked at her father.
"Daddy? Why is uncle Chuck so absent all the time? I thought he would go shopping with us…"
"I'm sorry, angel. Uncle Chuck has some things to work out."
"With the pretty ladies?"
"Who? Do you mean Blair and Christine?"
She nodded.
"Well, yeah."
"O. Okay, daddy. Well, it's sad he didn't come with us." She sighed. Nate smiled at her. He loved how his daughter could be carefree like her mother. The biggest problem in her world would be her bedtime. Brooke told the same story three times before they reached her room. It was next to Chuck's. Nate said good night to his little girl quickly and rushed to Chuck's room. When he came in, he saw his best friend passed out in the bed, a half-empty bottle of scotch on the nightstand.
~o~o~o~o~o
It was way too early in the morning for him to wake up. He glanced at the clock. 6 AM. Even Luna, who would be up first every morning, would be still asleep. Chuck groaned and turned over, now facing the ceiling. He hated mornings like these. After a minute or two, he sat up. Too fast, his head hurt like hell.
"O look, he's up." Someone scoffs on the other side of the room. Chuck looked up and saw Christine sitting at the 'mini' bar in his room. Slowly sipping scotch, she glares at him.
"Isn't it a bit too early for this, sis?" Chuck drawled as he got up. He took a glass of scotch himself and examined his sister further. Her dark hair hung loose over her shoulder, but it looked surprisingly dirty. Her eyes were bloodshot. She looked tired and was wearing a dark purple robe, without shoes. She shrugged.
"If you believe it's too early, then why are you pouring yourself a glass?" she said, raising her left eyebrow. He mirrored her expression and she smirked.
"You look like shit," he stated, and he started to change into new clothes. When he attempted to go into the bathroom, Christine grinned.
"No need to hide for me, brother," she said, and he raised his eyebrows in an amused emotion. She glares at him with a look of approval and when he's done, their eyes connect.
"What are you doing here? Not to check me out, are you?"
She laughed. "Why would I? You are my brother, nonetheless. And I would never do such thing to Blair."
"Well that answers one thing, though it's a very interesting act for a sister, but not my question. What are you doing here, Christine?"
"Why? Can't I bond with my long lost brother?" she smirked at him playfully, but her smile falters when he continues his stern expression. She sighed. "Well, first of all, I wanted some scotch and I reasoned you'd have some. Secondly, I think you need to talk to Blair."
"Why?"
"Because although it's very nice it's all good and friendly, the two of you are not made to be friends. And I don't think you've forgiven her fully."
"Very true, but how do you know that?"
"I observe. I'm quite good at that. I guess it's something you learn when you live in foster homes. You need to know the new family to make them like you."
She said it indifferently, but Chuck could hear the hurt in her voice. He nodded.
"Maybe you're right-"
"Of course I am."
"Shut it. I'll talk to Blair. Where can I find her?"
"She's in her room. It's on the floor above this one. There are three doors; you need to one in the middle."
Chuck nodded and left Christine in his room, alone, once again. Even after he left, she was still staring at the point her brother's face used to be located. Her mind drifting off had nothing to do with Chuck, or Blair, or even something of that moment.
"Dr. van der Heijden? Why did you call?"
"Miss Bass. We have some news…"
~o~o~o~o~o
"Blair?"
Chuck slowly walked into the room Christine had described to him. It was round, with turquoise walls and a beautiful Victorian four-poster bed with silk sheets. The room fitted perfectly Blair perfectly.
"Bla-haaair" he repeated, but no one answered. His eyes fell on a small antique wooden cabinet. She had filled the surface with photographs. Nothing but photographs in heavy, silver frames. His heart lifted when he spotted himself in almost every single one of them. There was an old photograph of her appearance on the stage of Victrola, a photo of the four of them on their graduation day, and… one of the two of them, when they were still very little. He reached out to it, but before his fingers could even touch the frame, someone gasped behind him. He turned around and saw Rose glaring at him. She just came out of the shower and her hair was wet. The only thing that covered her petite body was a small, white towel. Still in shock, she pointed at a white robe on her mother's bed. With a smirk, he handed the robe to Rose, who narrowed her eyes at him. He sat down on the bed, careful not to touch anything important. He kept his eyes on the pictures until Rose returned. Her hair was brown and curly instead of blonde like before. He swallowed. The girl looked like an exact, perfect copy of Blair when she was her age. Rose tightened the robe around her body.
"What are you doing here?" she scowled, with her eyes till narrowed. Chuck knew she only acted like that because she felt she needed to intimidate him. Just like her mother… Mockingly, he held his hands up in the air.
"Sorry, Rosalyn," he smirked, which caused her only to get more angry with him. "My bad. I didn't know you were here. According to my lovely sister, this is your mother's room. Now I see I could have known she was way too drunk to be serious."
Rose quirked her eyebrow. "This is my mom's room indeed," she mentioned coldly, "And auntie Chris is not a drunky."
"If you say so."
"I do."
Chuck looked at her. In a weird way, he cared for this kid. It wasn't only the fact she was Blair's daughter or that she looked exactly like her, but she was way too familiar to be only that. The longer they stared at each other, the softer Rose's eyes became. At the time Chuck looked away, Rose's expression was sad. Just like his. She climbed on the bed and sat next to him. She crossed her legs and followed his gaze to the pictures.
"So you're the guy." She said softly. He turned around and their eyes connected.
"What? What guy?"
"I mean you're that guy."
"That does not make any things any clearer, Rosalyn."
She smirked. "You are the guy her thoughts always drift off to when she's alone. They guy she actually missed, who made her –in her own words-, feel like she was the most perfect, beautiful thing alive."
"How would you know that?"
"Is it not true?"
"I did not say that. There is no situation in which I would say your mother is not perfect."
"Well, in that case… I know because she told me. It might have many years ago, but I still remember." She sighed. "She stopped telling me things when Charlie died."
Chuck glanced back at the cabinet, at the pictures. There were no photos of Rose or Christine or even Harold and Eleanor. Only photos of him and the rest of the Non Judging Breakfast Club. After a silence, Rose continued. She didn't seem awkward at all, but just fitting.
"Do you think my mother is perfect?" she asked. Suddenly, she was a bright, young girl again, curios and romantic. Chuck chuckled. He thought about what to answer. Tell her no, although he already said yes, -just to make it easier for him to leave-, or tell her the truth. Rose looked up to him, with her doe brown eyes, eagerly waiting for his answer.
"Your mother is perfection, Rosalyn."
She tilted her head, still waiting for the rest to come, but it didn't.
"So you do you think she is pretty?"
"No."
Her eyes darkened.
"I think she is absolutely stunning."
She giggled and threw her arms around him. Chuck immediately froze. Getting hugged by a 15 year old girl, and a 15 year old Waldorf at that, was even more overwhelming than seeing Blair again after so many years. Hesitantly, he placed his hand over hers. She placed her head on his shoulder and asked him that one question he had been asking himself since he had laid eyes on Blair again.
"Do you still love her?"
A/N I don't proof read, so if there are any mistakes with past and present tense, I'm really sorry for that! Please review!
Oh, and I'm indeed focusing on Christine's past a little bit more. She's quite important for the story, so I thought she deserved a past as well. If you don't like her or something: share your thoughts and I'll see what I can do for you (: