Title: Finish my Sentences

Summary: When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

Disclaimer: Do not own any characters.

Rating: PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

Author's Note: Reviews were awesome last chapter! I keep thinking that these chapters will end up kind of short, but they end up being much longer than I expect. Anyway, this may/may not be M-rated, I can't really tell. As always, reviews are love! There is some major CB action, get excited! Thanks Abby and Jackie (: You guys are amazin'.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

VII. Realization

The muted sound of cars rushing by could be heard, but only faintly in the background, as if the volume had been lowered. Even in the dim lighting, Chuck could see the yearning in her eyes. They needed each other.

But he had been dead set on sticking to his pact. Chuck would only cause drama to ensue in Blair's life. And Blair would certainly wreak havoc in his. But sometimes, he thought as he brought his lips forcefully to hers, logic just wasn't an answer.

"Chuck…" Blair gasped in between kisses, "You…want this, too, don't you?"

Chuck hesitated briefly. Was there really a right answer? A yes would most certainly lead to exactly what he was trying to prevent. A no would be a complete lie, and had the possibility of hurting Blair, which was one of the last things Chuck wanted to do.

"I…" Chuck tried to formulate some kind of answer.

Blair removed her hands that were entwining themselves into his thick hair. She pulled away, sitting back onto her seat, looking ashamed and furious at the same time.

"Blair, it's not that I don't want this. But we are who we are. I'm never going to satisfy you," Chuck explained, mentally kicking himself. Damaging Blair's ego was one of the stupidest things he could do.

A grimace crawled onto Blair's face, "Well don't let me make you do anything you don't want to."

"Blair…" Chuck reached out towards her. She stared out the window, trying to force his voice out of her ears, tuning into the humming sound of the limo's motor.

Maybe he would regret this. Maybe he was making a decision that would ruin his life. Maybe he was still the little seventeen year old, frightened to death by his own feelings, preferring to ignore than rather acknowledge them. No matter who he was, he was still Chuck Bass. The inner vulnerable Chuck that rarely appeared seem to take a hold of him, forcing him to make the most irrational choice he could ever make.

He reached out again, cupping her dainty face with his broad hands, pulling her towards him, capturing her lips into a smooth, delicious kiss.

Her tongue moved in sync with his, following his lead, lips melding with each others' as if they were made together. His lips grazed her earlobe, trailing down her jaw line, then onto her bare shoulder.

"Chuck…" Blair moaned, "Don't do this just because I want it." But somehow the harsh edge she had attempted to maintain had softened, muffled by her sighs and gasps of ecstasy.

"Did you ever think," Chuck said, slowly lifting her dress over her head, placing a forceful kiss on her lips, "that I wanted this more than you did?"

Blair's chocolate-colored eyes locked with his. There wasn't a trace of sarcasm or insincerity in them. They were in agreement; they needed each other.

Blair worked steadily at the buttons on his shirt, pausing every few seconds to place biting kisses onto his neck. Chuck could feel himself growing harder and harder, to the point that it physically hurt.

"Blair…" he growled huskily into her ear, working her earlobe with his tongue.

He felt her heartbeat quicken, and her breaths grow shallow. Giving up on the buttons, Blair proceeded to remove his shirt, buttons flying in every direction, plinking against the windows of his limo, then falling onto the seat around them.

"You're…wearing…too much clothes," Chuck hissed at her, using his perfectly mastered bra-clasp-removal technique: his teeth. He heard her intake a breath sharply as his lips came in contact with the warm skin on her back. Flinging the bra to the side, he grabbed her, pressing her into the leather interior seat.

Her hands worked at his belt buckle, and with a brass clang his pants were off. He was a little out of breath now. Only Blair did this to him, and he didn't feel like analyzing the reasons why. Besides, he had a bigger problem to take care of.

Blair felt herself burning. She needed him. She needed him more than anything in the world.

"Beautiful," Chuck whispered as she flipped herself on top. It was so quiet, she felt like she had just imagined it. But he was smiling in such a way, that it was highly plausible that he had said it.

She sank onto him, fully relishing the feeling of him inside of her. He pushed his way on top of her and she was arching and bucking towards him, screaming. They were never sweet and soft. After all, they were Chuck and Blair. They may have been destined for disaster. But at this moment, with Blair's bitter kisses pressing hotly against his shoulder, Chuck Bass felt anything but disastrous.

…

Blair lay staring at the ceiling, remembering every touch, every kiss that had occurred last night. Somehow they'd stumbled into Blair's bed. Luckily, Eleanor was away for business. Unluckily, Dorota seemed to be home.

Chuck's eyes fluttered before opening fully. He murmured drearily, "Morning."

Blair was silent. What did any of this mean? Had he changed his mind? Was he ready to finally try what they had been avoiding for so long― a relationship? Her mind was racing was questions that she was dying to ask, but too afraid to hear the answers.

Chuck plodded over to her closet, pulling out one of his silk robes, "Whoa, this is still in here?" Chuck asked, raising an eyebrow.

Blair shrugged. It was better to be passive than to give him too much of a response. Chuck Bass was scared off easily, which was something Blair had to learn the hard way.

"Chuck…" Blair's impatience seemed to push out all her other thoughts, "What does any of this mean?"

Chuck's half-smirk dropped of his face.

"What do you mean?" Chuck asked painfully, turning away from her to avoid eye contact.

"This. Me. You. Sex. What are we? Am I still going to be the one playing the role of 'wife' while you get shit-faced at clubs with whores?" Blair asked. She hadn't intended the question come out so forcefully, but somehow she knew it was what needed to be asked.

Chuck stared back at her. The correct answer, yes, would kill her. And that would kill him as well. The false one, the one he wished he could feed her, would be an absolute lie, and somehow lying to Blair was worse than killing her. He couldn't quite categorize his feelings for her. Love, whatever the hell that was, if it even existed, might have been it, but he just didn't know. But he wasn't ready. He was still the frightened, cowardly little seventeen-year-old who had ruined them just a year before. Trusting himself with Blair's confidence wasn't something he could do to either of them.

His silence seemed to answer her question. Her eyes grew dark with fury.

"Oh, I get it. I'm just another one-time fuck. I'm just another conquest. You know what? I'm glad. I'm relieved, actually. 'The future' my ass. You said we could try it then, but you know the truth? You'll still be exactly who you are; age doesn't determine a person's emotional maturity," Blair hissed at him.

"Maybe I didn't want to sleep with you, Blair. You gave me no choice. Contrary to belief, I don't want to ruin you," Chuck growled back at her. This was exactly what he had been avoiding when he hesitated last night. Feelings.

"Right, Chuck. Because it's not like you could have stopped. You could have dropped me off and then satisfied your needs," Blair grimaced, "elsewhere."

"Well why don't you try being me? Then try saying no to a girl who has her shirt off, forcing herself onto you," Chuck bit back viciously. How was this at all his fault?

"I do recall you saying no, plenty easily, to me on many occasions," Blair replied, looking away, avoiding his eyes.

"You said we were done. I was trying to abide by that. You can't have it both ways, Blair!" Chuck's voice raised with every word his voice thundering as he said her name.

"How could I have done this again? I always think you'll change, but you'll still be the self-absorbed asshole that I always knew. You're a motherfucking bastard and I never want to see you again," Blair screamed, her words filled with venom.

"Really? Because I'm asking myself the same thing. I just slept with the same uptight bitch that I promised myself I wouldn't," Chuck barked at her.

"Oh? Uptight bitch? Well, this uptight bitch is telling you to get the fuck out of my house before I call the police," Blair's shrill voice pierced into his brain, shattering his hope of ever being able to work out anything with her ever again.

He left her room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

"Mister Chuck!" Blair heard Dorota exclaim.

"Dorota," Blair beckoned as soon as she heard the door slam, "I need you."

"Yes, Miss Blair?" Dorota asked, rushing to Blair's side.

Blair didn't reply, but simply sniffled into Dorota's shirt, hugging her tightly.

…

Chuck watched Serena sleep. He counted her breaths. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Serena's eyes gently blinked open.

She screamed.

"Chuck? What the hell are you doing?" Serena accused, grabbing at her throbbing temples, "And why does my head hurt like hell?"

Chuck didn't reply. He reclined in his chair, staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks in it.

"Seriously, Chuck. Why am I here? Why are you here? Where's Blair?" Serena asked a series of questions. Just the mention of Blair sent Chuck fuming again.

"Why aren't you answering me?" Serena walked over to Chuck.

"You're here because you were drunk last night. I'm here because I live here. Blair's not here because…" his voice trailed off.

"Oh my God!" Serena exclaimed, once again reaching up to massage her massive hangover, "Is she okay? Where is Blair? What happened?"

"She's fine," Chuck murmured.

Serena stared at him for a long moment. She knew, to an extent, how Chuck Bass worked. And she knew he would be better off not talking for a while. When the time was right, she'd finally learn what had happened last night.

…

Blair let out a muffled sob as Dorota pulled a small button out of her tangled hair.

"Miss Blair, why is button in your hair?" Dorota asked, throwing it into the wastebasket.

Blair's response was a soft sniffle.

"Are you okay Miss Blair? What happen to Mister Chuck?" Dorota questioned quizzically.

Blair shot her a death glare. Dorota's mouth snapped shut.

"Like I said. He's as dead to me as his father is dead."

…

Hours later, Chuck found himself in the same position, in his reclining chair, staring off into space, not really aware of his surroundings.

The piercing shriek of his new cell phone jolted him up. The number was unrecognized.

"Chuck Bass."

"Chuck! Chuck! It's me. Serena. Is Eric with you?" Serena asked, gasping into the phone.

"Serena? What's wrong? Slow down," Chuck commanded.

"Last night, Eric told Mom that he was going to Jonathan's house. He didn't come home or even give Mom a call so she called me to see if I knew Jonathan's number. I called him and he said he hadn't seen Eric since school," Serena's sobs escaped as she tried to calm herself down so she could speak slowly enough for Chuck to understand.

"Eric? No, he's not with me," Chuck responded. His eyes widened.

"Starts with a van. Ends with a Woodsen."

Georgina's words started to make sense. He let out a soft gasp, quickly covering his mouth, hoping Serena hadn't heard.

"What?" was Serena's hurried response.

Chuck took a slow, deep breath, "I think I know who Eric is with."

tbc