Title: Bittersweet Welcome

Author: BookCaseGirl (Abby)

Date: June 27, 2009 (Beginning)

Rating: T for now; some could possibly be M

Classification: Well, sad...but it'll get happy, or you can all kill me.

Summary: After fifteen years away in Hong Kong, Chuck Bass returns to the Upper East Side for a sad event. When he sees all of his old friends and acquaintances – Blair in particular – he decides to stay for good, and finds out several pieces of life-changing information.

Author's Note: I got so much more of an amazing response to the last chapter than I expected. A big shoutout goes to Amber530, whose reviews honestly seem to keep me going the most. Thanks so much to everyone else who reviewed as well. You're all so encouraging and great! This is shorter because I literally wrote it right after I posted the other chapter last night. I plan on working on Chapter 8 immediately as well, because I'm in a writing mood.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl. I also appreciate Michelle's beta work on this chapter (:


Blair tried to focus on politely chewing a piece of undercooked chicken from her salad instead of how straight her back was or how far apart her legs were spread. She was afraid to look up at Chuck, because she knew that he would be gazing at her and she wouldn't be able to stand it. Nothing had been said since her suggestion to order, and she was thankful for that. Maybe all this was was a lunch, and he didn't intend to talk about anything serious. Just food between two almost-lovers turned friends.

"So, you only have the little girl and Victor then?" he asked conversationally, stabbing a piece of steak. Oh good; at least he was starting off small and easy.

"Adrianna and Victor, yes," she replied primly. Blair opted to cross her legs. She didn't want Chuck not-so-subtly leering at her open thighs when he was sure she wasn't looking.

"And how old are they?"

She scoffed. "Please, Chuck. Don't act like all of the answers to these questions weren't in the file that your PI gave you." Rolling her eyes, she stabbed a piece of spinach from her salad and dipped it in a little puddle of Italian dressing before putting it in her mouth and chewing quickly.

"I asked for information on Blair Waldorf, not the children of Blair Waldorf," he stated matter-of-factly and almost smugly, if she wasn't mistaken.

"Fine. Vic is fifteen, turning sixteen in two months; Adri is turning nine in three weeks," Blair said. She finally looked up to meet his eyes, but looked right back down when she saw the caramel globes boring right into her soul, like they always had. Blair suddenly became very interesting in a game of lettuce hockey in which the small onions were the pucks and her fork was the stick.

"Hm," he grunted in response, glaring down at his baked potato and prime rib. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he took a large gulp of his wine, setting the glass down unsteadily on the coaster. Looking up again, she didn't break eye contact this time. No, it was Chuck who broke away and looked over her shoulder at something outside the large bay window not far from where they sat.

She turned her head slightly and followed his gaze. Outside, there was a young mother with a little boy that looked no older than two. The young lady was struggling with the boy and trying to get him to hold her hand and walk with her.

It was then that Blair realized. She finally understood why Chuck had such a desire to know Victor and be in his life. He didn't want to have a child that struggled against him and resisted and in twenty years he wanted a real bond with his son. Chuck didn't want to be his father, and she knew that he was better than his father. He was better than his father because he left. Chuck left so that she could marry Nate and have children and be happy.

If only he'd known that all he had to do to make her happy was stay and be there for her. Nate would have been taken care of. But, no, Chuck had to be pessimistic and unbelieving in what was between them. She had believed – then – that the feelings between them were real and enough of a bond that they would last. The child that she had would have strengthened that, but this was what Chuck failed to see.

"You're not him, you know." And Blair knew that they were on the same page by the pathetic look in his eyes.

However, he decided not to let on to the fact aloud. "I beg your pardon?" he rasped.

"You are not your father, Chuck. The reason you left had nothing to do with Victor; just because he doesn't know that doesn't mean that it's not true. He's young. Give him time and it'll all get better." Chuck looked at her disbelievingly.

"I don't think that's true. Any of it," he muttered, toying with a small pile of potatoes that had been mashed under his fork.

She reached across the table and grasped his hand. "I do." And then the electric shocks came, tingling her from scalp to toe and making her breath come in uneven spurts that were not in any way normal. When her eyes skimmed up to his, she found a twinkle in them that made her give a small smile in return. His big, warm hand squeezed hers and she felt her stomach flip violently.

**********

"Dessert, Waldorf?" Chuck asked, smirking as he still held her hand. It was a little foreign to him, but it felt so nice. Comforting and friendly, with intimate undertones that only they were able to create.

"Sure," Blair replied taking her hand away. He was about to reach back across the white table when he realized that she had a purpose for taking the source of warmth away from him. She was fumbling in her purse and looked at her cell-phone. She gawked at the time – he looked at his watch and noticed that it was already one o'clock – and then dialed a number.

When the waiter came back, Chuck ordered a piece of triple-chocolate cake for he and Blair to share – two forks of course; he was sure that if they only used one, he wouldn't be sleeping in the Palace tonight.

"Hey, it's me," she said into the mouthpiece of the phone. "Lunch is running later than I thought. We've had a lot to talk about," Blair looked up at Chuck as she said this and when he smirked, she coughed back a laugh, making his smirk grow into an amused smile.

"So, I'll see you guys later. Love you," she murmured softly before drawing it away from her ear and dropping it back in her purse.

"We've had a lot to talk about, hm? It seems to me like we haven't done a whole lot of talking, Blair."

"Look, Chuck. This has been nice, but after dessert I should really get back." It did not go unnoticed by him that his question was unanswered, nor was it ignored that she wasn't meeting her eyes anymore. Looked like their moment was over as soon as it had begun. Dammit.

"Alright, then," he said, though it was probably unnecessary given that it seemed like she was no longer paying any attention.

"Your dessert, sir," the waiter addressed Chuck, and he accepted the plate as it was set down with a nod of his head.

**********

"Go ahead, Blair. Ladies first," he murmured, eyes twinkling. She had thought it was over, but then another wave of crippling nausea rolled through and she found that she really didn't have much of an appetite, yet she was listening to Chuck and used her fork to slice into the moist chocolate cake.

It tasted divine. The frosting swirled on her tongue and was creamy as it slid down her throat, coating the crumbling cake. She licked the residual frosting that had a few crumbs stuck to it off of her fork and then lay it down next to her glass plate.

Raising her eyes to look at Chuck, she found his mouth agape – though he tried unsuccessfully to cover it up by getting his own bite of cake and swallowing quickly before taking a swallow of water. She noted interestedly that he did not sip wine, but instead the water. Had she really been that involuntarily seductive while taking a mere bite of cake? Or perhaps Chuck had just gone too long without.

Ten minutes later, the cake was gone and all that was left between them was a thing sliver of white china, even though mere seconds after they'd finished, that was taken away as well, and all that was left between them was utterly uncomfortable silence.

"I should probably go." Blair folded her napkin and was just about to rise when Chuck surprised her by taking her hand and pulling her back down.

"At least let me make up for whatever unseen and unknown thing that I did and allow me to give you a ride home." It didn't sound half bad to her, and she could just press herself as far as possible to the window. But then that side of her that usually thought of Nate only as an afterthought decided to mention him as a fore-thought instead and she instantly felt guilty.

"I really shouldn't, Chuck," she said softly, smoothing the wrinkles that were on the tablecloth in front of her.

Gazing at her, he said the one thing that he must have known would make the offer irresistible. "Come on, Blair. It's had to have been ages since you've had a proper limo ride."

She wordlessly rose and looked over her shoulder as she walked out to slide into his car. Screw Nate. He was dead; and he had cheated on her, after all. Though that little voice was still tugging at her mercilessly, she felt the need to ignore it and keep pressing on the button in her life that was Chuck Bass.

You only lived once, right?

**********

Chuck was very pleasantly surprised that Blair had agreed to receive a ride him from him. However, he wasn't so surprised that she didn't say one word to him the whole way. She was pressed as far as possible – maybe even more than possible – into the door and was very attentive to the details that rushed by outside her window.

In no time, they had reached Blair's apartment. Before she could object, Chuck got out of his side of the car and opened her door for her. He lifted her out of the car with ease and she stumbled a bit, but he caught her. It was the point in every cheesy movie where the guy would lean down and make his move, but Chuck was better than that. He knew better than that. So he led her to the door.

"Have a good day, Blair," Chuck said, and before he could talk himself out of it, he planted a chaste – well, as chaste as a kiss from Chuck Bass could be – kiss on Blair's lips.

He looked back over his shoulder and saw a very stunned Ms. Waldorf, eyes wide with shock, standing on the doorstep.

End Note: See? Happy! (: And I realize the kiss was fast moving for them. Would I really leave it like that? Of course there'll be some thoughts and regrets in the next chapter, before everyone hounds me about "they're moving so fast!" It's just a bit of a cliffy, which is why I'll post again very soon (: