A/N: I don't own GG or Vertical Horizon...

He's everything you want
He's everything you need
He's everything inside of you
That you wish you could be
He says all the right things
At exactly the right time
But he means nothing to you
And you don't know why

You're waiting for someone
To put you together
You're waiting for someone to push you away
There's always another wound to discover
There's always something more you wish he'd say

"Everything You Want"

Vertical Horizon

The elevator ride down from Chuck's had been particularly embarrassing. She had tears streaming down her face and she hadn't been wearing waterproof mascara. This would have been fine, except she wasn't in the elevator alone. She was standing against the corner of the elevator, quietly crying when the doors slid open and one of Chuck's employees entered the lift.

She momentarily glanced up, sniffling as she did, readying herself to rip the head off the bellboy if he dare speak. But for all of his shortcomings (which seemed to be less and less these days), Chuck had trained his staff well. The man barely gave Blair a second look, quietly pressing the button to shut the doors and waiting for the elevator to resume its' decline.

Blair attempted to calm herself now that she had an audience, but the damn tears wouldn't quit coming. The most troubling part was that she couldn't figure out why.

Why the hell was she in an elevator crying?

She cleared her throat and shook her head in defiance of the tears. Lifting her gaze, she stared straight ahead into the mirrored walls of the elevator, trying to regain her composure.

She glanced down at the papers still in her hands, more crumpled than they had been previously. Her thoughts shifted to their contents and what they had told her. These thoughts led her mind back to Chuck's penthouse and the look on his face when he told her he did it all because he loved her and her eyes began to water again.

Damn that Basshole!

She squeezed them shut tightly, hoping to force the tears back into her eyes by shear power of will. No such luck. Instead of a retreat, as she had demanded, the tears began to sneak past her lids, cascading down her face and falling helplessly to the floor.

A slight cough came from the corner of the elevator occupied by the bellboy. Blair lifted her eyes enough to glare at the innocuous creature but instead found herself facing his outstretched hand. Clenched in it were several tissues.

She glanced at his hand questioningly and then slowly stretched her hand to grab the offering. Slowly, she blotted away the inky black marks that had marred her ivory complexion. Blair was just finishing when the doors dinged to signal their arrival. Without a word, the bellboy slipped out.

"Thank you," Blair called out weakly, still inside of the elevator.

The young man turned around and offered a reassuring smile.

"No problem, miss."

Blair straightened her back and set out of the building on her way to meet Dan. Still distracted from her previous encounter, Blair ran headfirst into a plaid covered chest.

"Sorry," she mumbled without looking up.

"Blair?"

She stopped dead in her path and turned slowly to face Humphrey.

What the hell was he doing outside of the Empire, Blair wondered.

"Dan," she said, unable to hide the disappointment at seeing him at the moment. "What are you doing here," her voice sounded tired and defeated even to her own ears.

If he noticed her tone, he didn't let on.

"Well, you didn't answer your phone and I was already on this side of town so I thought I'd come by and see Chuck….see how he's doing with…everything."

Blair looked at him dubiously, not fooled for a second.

"You thought you'd come by and see Chuck?" she repeated a challenge in her voice as she felt her heart rate increase.

"Yeah, I just thought he might need a fri-" Dan began.

"Chuck doesn't need anything from you," Blair snapped staring menacingly. "Drop the lie. You were following me," she accused, venom on her tongue.

"So what if I was," Humphrey retorted. "What were you doing at Chuck's?"

"You don't get to follow me," Blair seethed. "And you don't get to know everything that I do."

"I'm your boyfriend," Dan tried, softening his tone. "Don't you think I deserve to know why you ran out of the loft and straight to your ex?"

Blair remained unmoved, her arms crossed over her chest, her resolve not budging an inch.

"Blair, he's an ass. He lies, cheats and steals and doesn't care who he hurts as long as he gets what he wants," he said, reaching out to stroke her hair. "I just, I don't want you to get hurt again."

"Don't talk about things you know nothing of," Blair spat, leaning away from his touch. "You don't know Chuck and you certainly don't know anything about our relationship."

"Blair," Dan said pleadingly, reaching out again to catch her face but retracting his hand when he saw the expression that crossed her delicate features.

"Blair," he tried again.

But she wasn't listening to him. Her mind was stuck on something that Dan had said.

"He lies, cheats and steals and doesn't care who he hurts as long as he gets what he wants."

Her head snapped up and she looked Dan directly in the eyes.

"You say Chuck is such a bad guy because he lies and cheats without a thought about who he hurts," Blair stated.

"Yeah and I just want to pro-" Dan started but was immediately cut off.

"Well, so do I," Blair said firmly and a challenge rang from her voice.

"Am I a bad person?"

"Blair," Dan protested. "You are nothing like Chuck."

"No," Blair refuted. "I'm exactly like him. I lie, cheat and steal to get what I want. I don't care who I hurt as long as I get what I want," she admitted. "Look what I did to Louis. Look what I did to Serena-what we did to Serena. Hell, look at what I did to Chuck," she sighed shaking her head.

"I'm just like him," she repeated, glancing up again to meet his eyes, begging him to see the truth.

"You're not," Dan denied.

"But I am," Blair shot back. "Why can't you accept that?"

"Because," Dan stuttered, shaking his head. He slowly looked up at her, desperation in his eyes.

"Because I love you."

All the air that was left in Blair's lungs left her in that moment. She hadn't expected that answer and she certainly hadn't expected what she felt at his admission.

"I love you, Blair," he repeated. "And that's why you're not like Chuck. I love you and you are good and loyal and caring. And I love you," his voice whisper soft on the last words.

Blair stared at him for a moment, realization dawning on her.

"Would you love me if I was like Chuck?" she asked, her voice so soft it was almost lost in the noise of the Manhattan street.

"But you're not," Dan rebutted tenderly touching her arm. "That's the point."

"But I am," Blair replied defiantly, looking at him with sadness in her eyes. "I'm exactly like him and if you can't see that…" she trailed off. "Well, if you can't see the both the good and bad in me, then you don't really love me."

"But I do," Dan pled.

"You think you do, but it's an illusion," Blair stated, gently removing his hand from her arm. "A work of fiction."

He stared at her, the confusion and pain evident on his face.

"You fell in love with Clair Carlyle. I think I did, too. It was nice to have someone see only the good in you. But the truth is…that's just not who I am and it's not who I want to be."

"Who do you want to be? I can love whoever you are," Dan proclaimed.

"Blair Waldorf," she replied.

"I don't want to be anyone other than Blair Waldorf."

She turned slowly and walked away, leaving Dan to stare after her in disbelief.


"Go away," Chuck drawled into the darkness of his penthouse. He had heard the elevator moments ago and was not ready for any guests, especially considering the last few that had come by.

He heard the clicking of heels across the marble and couldn't figure out who the hell it was. There was no way that Blair had come back. In fact, it seemed Blair was never coming back.

As he reached down for his glass of scotch (giving it up had gone out the window after his encounter with Blair), he heard a throat clear behind him.

"Charles."

He almost dropped his glass in surprise.

Slowly turning his body toward the intruder, his gaze was met by the imposing figure of the Waldorf matriarch.

"Eleanor?" he questioned.

"I haven't seen you since the…" he trailed off as she met his eyes, causing him to stop. They both knew the last time they saw each other.

Without a moment's pretense, Eleanor took the seat across from him.

"Scotch," Eleanor ordered sharply. "Three fingers."

Chuck shook his head, still trying to figure out the reason for his visitor as he retrieved a glass and poured her drink.

He handed her the tumbler and watched in apt fascination as she tossed the drink back before holding the empty glass to him signaling her desire for a refill. His lips quirked at her action but he quickly filled her glass again. This time she took a long, slow slip before setting it on the table and clearing her throat.

"I came to say thank you," Eleanor began, staring at him intently.

"For?" Chuck asked in confusion as he leaned forward in his seat.

"Paying the dowry," she replied crisply.

"It was nothing," Chuck said, annoyed that he had to talk about it again. He really was going to kill Jack for outing his secret.

"It would have bankrupt the family," she needlessly elaborated, "so thank you." Their eyes met and he struggled to read the emotion in them.

As he stared at Blair's mother, he could see the gratitude in her eyes but it was mixed with something else. Something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. For all that had happened, though, it seemed that Blair was closer to her mother than ever before and for that he was eternally grateful. Blair deserved someone to be devoted to her, no matter the cost.

Chuck nodded his understanding, trying to find words to express how he felt. He settled for the simplest truth he could manage.

"I'd do anything for her."

"I know," Eleanor confirmed quietly. "I know."

The pair sat in Chuck's penthouse in silence for a few moments, both nursing their scotch.

As he saw their reflections in the glass, he thought about what a funny pair they made, he and Eleanor. He was the ultimate New York playboy with his new money and good looks. She was his polar opposite, all old money and society ways. But they shared a bond: undeniable love of the same woman. Both had failed her in countless ways, but both also loved her more than words could say.

"I'm surprised she told you," Chuck said, finally breaking the peaceful silence when his glass was empty. Blair really had changed if she was confiding pieces of information like the payment of her dowry.

"Excuse me," Eleanor said, glancing over at Chuck with raised eyebrows.

"About the dowry," he explained. "I'm surprised she told you."

"She didn't tell me," Eleanor stated simply.

"Then how did you," Chuck interjected unable to wipe the surprise from his face.

"I told her," Eleanor emphasized.

Chuck stared at the older woman in shock, trying to clear his head. He could have sworn that Eleanor had just said she was the one that told Blair about the dowry but that was impossible. Jack had certainly gone to new lengths by involving Blair's mom in his ploy.

"How did you find out," he asked curiously, waiting expectantly for his suspicions to be confirmed.

"Louis."

Too bad that wasn't the answer he was expecting.

"When?"

"I suppose it was right after you came to him. He said that you paid the dowry but that you didn't want Blair to know."

"That worked out well," Chuck muttered, raking his fingers through his already mussed hair. He had actually thought he'd been wrong about Louis after the meeting in England; clearly he had been right before.

"She needed to know," Eleanor stated firmly as she gazed over at Chuck.

"Why? What good does it do? It doesn't change anything," Chuck drawled, "She's still with Humphrey."

"But you didn't pay the dowry so she wouldn't be with Daniel," Eleanor reminded him as gently as she could. Of course gentle wasn't really a word in her vocabulary so it came out more like a hard slap on the back instead of the gentle comfort she had meant it.

"You did it so she could be happy."

Chuck shook his head and placed it between his hands in frustration. Why did people have to keep reminding him?

"Charles," Eleanor said into the stillness. "You did it for the best reason possible and even if gets you nowhere," she said looking down slowly, cutting herself off as what appeared to be a tear escaped her eye. He must have been mistaken though, because Eleanor Waldorf-Rose didn't cry.

She paused a moment and then looked up, meeting him dead in the eye and he could see the tears shining and threatening to break free.

"I'm glad that my daughter has someone that loves her like that," she paused a moment and then looked up, meeting him square in the eye. He could see the tears shining and threatening to break free, "I couldn't pick a better man for her."

"Unfortunately for me," Chuck lamented turning his eyes away, "it's not your choice."

"No," Eleanor agreed staring after him, "But just like you, I can make sure she knows what she would be missing out on."

"She's not missing out on anything, without me," Chuck disagreed with a nod of dissension.

"You're wrong," Eleanor countered with such tenacity that Chuck turned to meet her gaze once more.

"She'd be missing everything."