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Chapter 7
Blair awoke Monday morning with a renewed sense of determination. Today, she decided, was the day she would finally start getting her life back on track.
So what if she was currently 0 for 2 on her list of life goals? That just meant she could skip directly to item number three: get to work on her career.
And she'd gotten up especially early, so she could catch her mother at breakfast and get started right away.
"Good morning," Blair chirped, sliding into a chair across the table from Eleanor.
Her mother glanced up to regard her over the top of her glasses.
"You're up early, dear," she commented, before returning her attention to the Times.
Blair frowned a little at her mother's tone- Eleanor had obviously noticed her recently developed habit of sleeping in till noon. But when the only item on her daily agenda had been "dinner and a movie with Dan," she hadn't exactly felt inspired to leap out of bed in the morning.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," she explained, giving her mother her most charming smile.
Eleanor eyed her with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
"I was wondering if…" Blair took a deep breath. "If you might have an internship position available at Waldorf Designs? Just for the summer."
"For you?" Eleanor looked taken aback, and Blair's carefully built-up confidence plummeted.
"Well, I know I don't have a lot of experience, but I learned a lot at my internship last year, and I'm a… very hard worker-" she began.
"I know that, dear, I'm just… surprised you want to work for me, that's all. You haven't shown any interest in Waldorf Designs in years." Eleanor took a sip of her latte. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?" she asked bluntly.
Blair paused a moment, glancing down at the table and then back up at her mother.
"No," she finally admitted. "I have no idea what I want to do. But I don't know how to figure it out without… trying things first."
Eleanor nodded pensively.
"Well…" She drummed her fingers along the side of her cup. "We're shooting the fall line for print ads this month, as well as three- possibly four- magazine spreads, and we're woefully behind schedule for Fashion Week, so… there's plenty of work to be done…"
Blair sat up a little in her seat, biting her lip in anticipation.
"I suppose I could find you something," her mother concluded.
"You won't regret it, I promise," Blair assured, her face visibly brightening.
"I'd better not," Eleanor replied with feigned severity, unable to prevent a little smile of her own.
Blair happily tucked into her croissant, and the two ate their breakfast in silence for a moment.
"What happened to spending the summer in Europe with… Dan Humphrey?" Eleanor asked at last, her gaze fixed shrewdly on her daughter's reaction.
There was something amusing about the way her mother always referred to him by his full name, Blair reflected- as if they weren't quite familiar enough to be on a first-name basis.
"We, uh… aren't together anymore," she replied in a neutral tone. "We decided that we're… better off just being friends."
"Mmm." Eleanor looked neither surprised nor disappointed by this turn of events.
She took another sip of her coffee, still studying her daughter's expression.
"So no trips abroad this summer?" she asked shrewdly. "To London, perhaps?"
Blair felt the color rise in her cheeks.
"Perhaps," she murmured, averting her eyes from her mother's overly-perceptive gaze.
Eleanor nodded, the slightest hint of a smile quirking the corners of her mouth, before she pushed her chair back and stood up.
"Well, you'd better hurry up and get dressed," she said, eyeing Blair's pajamas, and smoothed one hand down the front of her cashmere cardigan.
Blair looked up at her with a questioning lilt of her eyebrows
"It's almost eight," she pointed out. "You don't want to be late for your first day of work, do you?"
With that, Eleanor turned and walked towards the foyer- leaving Blair blinking in surprise before she gulped down the last of her coffee and hurried up to her bedroom to change.
.
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Blair quickly discovered that climbing to the top of the food chain at Eleanor Waldorf Designs was easier said than done. Since the other interns had all started several weeks ago, they'd already settled into a hierarchy, and the only slot remaining was at the very bottom. Furthermore, they all clearly viewed her as the unqualified beneficiary of her mother's nepotism. Blair soon realized she'd have to work twice as hard as everyone else just to be taken seriously, let alone admired.
So she did exactly that. After she'd finished her own job duties, she volunteered for more, and she did everything without a word of complaint- only an occasional eyeroll when no one was looking. It was tedious work- lots of fetching and sorting and organizing- but it gave her more of a sense of accomplishment than she'd felt in months.
But by Friday morning, the pointed looks and snide comments from the other interns were definitely starting to wear on her. It was a relief to escape for an hour to have lunch with Serena.
"I just wish they'd give me a chance," Blair complained, staring down at her half-eaten Cobb salad. "I feel like… instead of trying to help me, they're just waiting for me to screw up."
"I'm sure it'll get better," Serena assured her. "They just need some time to realize you're really serious about this, that's all."
"I hope so," Blair sighed, prodding aside a chunk of bacon with her fork to spear a slice of tomato.
"Oh, but Laurel- she's my boss- asked me to help out with the Elle shoot this Saturday," she added in a more upbeat tone. "Which sounds amazing- I mean, remember all those shoots we used to go to together? We always had so much fun."
"Yeah, those were fun," Serena replied with a wistful little smile.
"Of course, you always fit into the sample sizes much better than I did," Blair added in a flattering tone.
A little wrinkle appeared between Serena's eyebrows.
"Well, I don't know about that," she said uncomfortably, shrugging off the intended compliment.
They lapsed into silence, both girls returning to their food to try and disguise the awkwardness.
"So… how are your classes going?" Blair asked finally.
"Oh, great," Serena said through a mouthful of panini, her expression brightening. "My film class has just been introductory stuff so far, but tonight we're going to our first screening - Buster Keaton's Sherlock, Jr. And my creative writing professor really liked the idea I came up with for my first short story."
She took another bite, looking thoughtful as she chewed.
"It just feels like I'm finally doing something I'm really excited about, you know?" she explained.
"That's great," Blair said with an encouraging smile. "You know, I never realized you were that into cinema," she added, before taking a sip of her iced tea. "There's a great independent film festival in Brooklyn you should check out, I went last year with…"
She faltered, realizing too late where her sentence was heading.
Serena said nothing for a moment, just wiped her napkin around the edges of her mouth.
"You don't have to pretend like Dan doesn't exist, Blair," she said finally. "We're starting over, remember? Not acting like nothing ever happened."
Blair nodded ruefully.
"Maybe you and I could go together this year?" she suggested in a hopeful voice. "I think it's coming up pretty soon."
"Maybe," Serena replied, appearing to actually consider the idea.
Blair smiled as she fluffed through her salad with her fork. To starting over, she thought, lifting a bacon-laden bite to her mouth.
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Blair's optimism was soon rewarded. As soon as she returned to the office, Laurel, who was notoriously stingy with compliments, openly praised her for securing an alternate venue for the Fashion Week wrap party. Then one of the other interns approached her, albeit awkwardly, to mention that they were going out for drinks after work.
Startled by the invitation, Blair had practically beamed in response.
And several hours later, she was sitting in an upscale bar in Midtown, surrounded by a clique of gorgeous, fashionable girls gossiping about their coworkers. It was like she'd finally returned to her natural habitat, she mused happily.
"I just don't get it." Deirdre shook her head mournfully, stirring the olive around in her martini. "I really thought there was a spark there, but he hasn't picked up on any of the hints I've been dropping."
"Hints? More like anvils," scoffed Phoebe, with a toss of her fiery red hair.
"Well, she had a good reason to think he liked her!" Alison chimed in defensively. "He talked to her for like two hours at that welcome reception."
"Well, I saw him chatting up one of the admins by the break room yesterday." Deirdre sighed mournfully. "I guess he just lost interest."
Blair furrowed her brow in confusion.
"Wait, are you talking about Brandon Meyers?" she interjected.
The girls looked up at her in surprise, responding with a flurry of nods.
"Yeah… he's gay," she pointed out.
Three pairs of eyes widened at her in disbelief.
"He is not…" Deirdre trailed off. "Wait, how do you know he's gay?"
"…Because he has sex with men," Blair replied dryly, and Phoebe snorted with laughter.
Seeing Deirdre's crestfallen expression, she felt a pang of sympathy- clearly the girl had spent way too long in the fashion industry if her radar was that badly calibrated.
"I've known him for a long time," Blair explained further. "He dated… a friend of a friend."
She decided 'friend of a friend' sounded much more appropriate than 'my dad's boyfriend'.
"Ugh, I am never going to meet anyone," Deirdre said, shaking her head despondently. She took a long swallow of her drink.
"Well…" Blair hesitated.
It might be a bit soon to pimp out Dan just to curry favor with her coworkers, but she had no qualms about throwing Nate in their direction. Maybe he'd even be willing to bring along some of his lacrosse teammates.
"I know some cute single guys. I could introduce you," she offered.
"Really?" Allison perked up. The two girls eyed Blair with cautious interest.
"Yeah, sure." Blair shrugged. "Maybe I could invite them to happy hour sometime?"
Among the excited nods of the others, Phoebe regarded Blair with skepticism.
"What's wrong with them?" she asked pointedly, ignoring Allison's attempts to shush her.
"Wrong with them?" Blair echoed.
"Why aren't you dating them?" she clarified. "You're single, right?"
Blair faltered, at a momentary loss for words.
The obvious answer- "because I already did"- wouldn't be much of a selling point.
And the truth was, she didn't really consider herself to be single. Technically, she was free to date whomever she wanted, but she didn't want to date anyone except Chuck. And she wouldn't even consider risking a future relationship with him for the sake of some… momentary distraction.
"It's… complicated," she said finally. "I'm not really… looking to date anyone right now."
Phoebe nodded, her eyes studying Blair shrewdly.
"Yeah, I just got out of a complicated relationship myself," she commented. "I came home one day to find my boyfriend in bed with the neighbor's dog walker."
Blair winced in empathy.
"That uncomplicated things in a hurry," Phoebe added with a self-deprecating grin.
"My last boyfriend dumped me by changing his Facebook status," Allison added. "To 'in a relationship' with someone else."
The group of girls groaned in commiseration.
"I dated a guy in high school who, it turned out…" Blair paused for effect. "Was sleeping with his own stepmother."
She laughed at the resounding chorus of "ew"s.
"Alright, you win," Phoebe conceded, shaking her head in amusement. "Another drink?" she offered, gesturing to Blair's empty glass.
"Sure," Blair said, pleased that they seemed to be warming up to her. "Just tonic and lime," she clarified.
"You don't drink?" Phoebe asked curiously, leaning forward to get the bartender's attention.
"Oh, I do, I just have to get up super early for that photo shoot tomorrow," Blair explained. "And my mother can detect a hangover from a mile away."
Phoebe nodded.
"Your mom's a real ball-buster," she observed. "I'm honestly a little terrified of her."
The other girls murmured in agreement.
"You guys should've seen her a few years ago, before she married Cyrus," Blair said with a wry laugh. "This is Eleanor being mellow, trust me."
Retrieving their drinks, Phoebe handed them out to the others, and raised her glass.
"Cheers!" she declared with a smile, and the four girls clinked their glasses together.
.
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Chuck's first week in London was a blur of meetings, conference calls, and networking events. Still, he carved out enough time on his schedule to walk Monkey once in the morning and once in the afternoon, and their peaceful, relaxing excursions around Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens quickly became his favorite daily activity.
During their Saturday afternoon walk, he was momentarily distracted by his cell phone and took his eyes off of Monkey for a few seconds… only to look up and find him tangled up in some sort of butt-sniffing showdown with a yappy little Cocker Spaniel.
Chuck helped separate the two animals and apologized profusely to the other dog's owner, a friendly blonde girl named Chloe. She asked about his accent, and, after he admitted that he was new in town, invited him to join her and her friends at a nearby pub that evening. It was an act of overt friendliness that would never have happened in Manhattan in a million years.
That was how he found himself sandwiched into a booth at the Churchill Arms, surrounded by a boisterous group of twenty-somethings and staring bemusedly at a pint of amber liquid someone had placed in front of him.
"Chiswick." A stocky guy seated across from him- George, maybe?- gestured towards the glass. "Best real ale in all of London."
Chuck nodded and lifted it to his lips for a tentative sip.
And nearly spit it back out when he tasted the flat, tepid beverage. Admittedly, it'd been years since he'd had a beer, but he definitely didn't remember it tasting like that.
"Mm," he said noncommittally, trying to mask his reaction.
George regarded him with amusement.
"Probably a bit warmer than you're used to," he commented. "It lets you get the full flavor. Chilling it just deadens your taste buds."
Well, the same was said by true Scotch aficionados, so… he supposed he had to respect that.
Smiling wryly, Chuck raised the pint and took another swallow, deciding that it tasted slightly less objectionable the second time around.
"Next round's on me," he offered, cueing a chorus of cheers.
As well as a hearty slap on the back from the gentleman to his left.
The close-knit group seemed to welcome him without hesitation- only a raised eyebrow or two at his Savile Row suit, which was noticeably out of place among the casually-dressed patrons. He'd introduced himself by first name only, mentioning vaguely that he "worked in real estate," but they'd seemed unperturbed by his evasiveness. They'd peppered him with questions about New York City and what it was like to live there, sharing some American travel experiences of their own and offering him plenty of unsolicited advice about living in London. Eventually, though, focus shifted away from him, the conversation returning to Premier League soccer and other topics that he couldn't really contribute to.
So Chuck relaxed against the back of the booth, his fingers circled loosely around the base of his glass, just listening. Every now and then he'd offer an opinion or question, but mostly he was content to quietly observe.
It felt nice, he decided, being surrounded by people who didn't have any pre-conceived ideas or expectations of him. People who were just… easy to be around.
Not that he was deliberately trying to remain anonymous- he knew that would be impossible.
But even an hour or two of just being Chuck, a twenty-one-year-old American with a penchant for overdressing and a woeful ignorance of beer, felt… liberating.
"What do you say, Chuck?" Chloe's voice interrupted his musing.
He glanced up with a furrowed brow to find several sets of eyes on him.
"Football in the park tomorrow?" she clarified, looking at him expectantly. "We meet on Sundays at half-ten."
"… Sure," Chuck agreed, after only a slight hesitation. "Sounds fun."
He wasn't generally a fan of embarrassing himself in public- and since he hadn't so much as touched a soccer ball since gym class at St. Jude's, that was undoubtedly what this outing would entail- but apparently he was the sort of person who tried new things these days.
Approving the idea with a little nod, he took another swallow of his beer.
Still flat, and warm, and… yeasty. Not terrible, though.
But "next round" was going to be a round of Scotch, just the same, he thought with a smirk.
.
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The sound of his phone vibrating across the coffee table made Chuck sit up on the sofa, wincing at the soreness in his hamstrings as he did so. Shifting the ice pack on his cheek off to one side, he grabbed the phone and held it up to identify the caller.
And felt his heart skip a beat when he saw Blair's name on the screen.
Clearing his throat, he pressed "accept."
"Hello?" he said tentatively.
"Hey," Blair greeted him.
"Hey," he echoed back.
An awkward pause followed.
"Chuck?"
"Yeah, I'm here," he replied. "… How are you?"
"I'm good," she said brightly. "I was just wondering… how you were settling in over there."
"Pretty well, actually," he replied with a tinge of pride. "Keeping busy with work. The project's still ahead of schedule, we haven't run into any major snafus so far."
"That's great news," she enthused. "And your new apartment?"
"Well, it does feel a little empty without a certain someone camped out on the sofa playing video games in his underwear," he responded wryly.
The laughter that rang out across the line produced an odd fluttering feeling in his stomach. It was amazing, after all these years, how just the sound of her voice could affect him this much.
"Yeah, I think Nate misses you too," she commented, her voice infused with humor. "I visited him the other day, and he seems in desperate need of a smoking buddy."
"A role I'm guessing you were unwilling to fill?"
Blair snorted. "Not for lack of effort on his part," she replied. "I think he was going to try and trick me with some brownies, but he almost set the kitchen on fire making them."
"Yeah, Nate has difficulty with… ovens," Chuck said with a little laugh.
There was a pause, and he could hear her clear her throat.
"So… I got a job," she announced eagerly.
"Really? That's great."
"Yeah, I'm working for my mom's company, I started on Monday. It's just an internship, so… nothing super glamorous, but I got to help out with a magazine shoot yesterday and the director actually asked my opinion on some of the styling…"
Chuck propped himself up on the sofa arm and leaned back against the cushions as Blair continued to chatter about her new job, smiling at how excited she sounded.
"Sounds great," he said when he finally got a word in edgewise. "You'll be running that division in no time."
"Well, the other interns… took a while to warm up to me," Blair admitted. "You know, because I got the position through my mom…"
"Yeah," he murmured. "I can relate."
Even now, three and a half years after his father's death, he encountered people on a daily basis who assumed he was just a rich, entitled trust fund brat with no business acumen whatsoever.
Fortunately, being underestimated in the boardroom usually worked out to his advantage.
"Anyway, it turns out they're all desperately man-hungry," Blair said in a crafty sort of way. "So I figure I'll throw them a bone- so to speak- by introducing them to Nate."
"You know, Nate's never going to meet a nice girl if you keep pimping him out like this," Chuck remarked drolly.
Blair scoffed. "Please. If he had any interest in meeting a nice girl, he wouldn't be banging cougars like it's a full-time job. I'm just putting his… talents to use, that's all."
"Fair enough," Chuck conceded with a grin.
He shifted his position, trying to keep the ice pack pressed firmly against his cheekbone- but in the process, his elbow slipped off the sofa arm and the heel of his palm jabbed directly into the bruised flesh.
"Ow, fuck," he muttered.
"What's wrong?" Blair's voice was tinged with concern.
"Nothing, I just… I got hit in the face with a soccer ball, that's all."
"What? How?" she asked, confused.
"I was… playing soccer," he replied in an obvious tone.
"Soccer?" she echoed disbelievingly.
"Okay, it's not that hard to believe."
"I've just… never known you to play soccer, that's all," she replied, still sounding skeptical.
"Well, there may still be a thing or two you don't know about me," Chuck said saucily.
He maneuvered himself sideways so he could prop his legs up onto the sofa, feeling a sharp twinge in his calf muscles as he did so.
"I saved a goal," he offered.
"That's… great."
"By accident."
"Well, still…"
"With my face."
He heard a snort of laughter across the line.
"No permanent damage, I hope," she said teasingly. "I'm rather fond of your face."
"Nothing an ice pack and a couple glasses of Scotch won't fix," he replied. "They invited me back next week, but I think it was more out of pity than anything else," he added in a wry tone.
"Well, I'm glad you're making some friends over there," she said warmly.
They were both quiet for a moment.
He heard her inhale, as if about to speak- and then hesitate.
"So is it… okay that I called you?" she finally asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice.
"Of course it is," he murmured, his brow furrowing in puzzlement. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"I just… I know you said you wanted space, so…" she trailed off.
"I also said we were friends," he reminded her. "And friends… talk to each other, right?"
"Right," she agreed softly. "Friends."
Silence stretched out between them, growing heavy with thoughts unspoken.
They both knew that the word was wholly inadequate to describe how they felt about each other. There wasn't even a word for that, as far as Chuck was concerned.
Blair wasn't a friend to him. She was… everything to him.
But that was exactly the problem, he reminded himself. He'd become so consumed by his feelings for her, so focused on her happiness at the expense of his own, that he'd lost himself in the process. And he couldn't live his life so dependent on Blair's love that he felt like half a person without her.
That was why they needed this separation so badly, even though it was taking every ounce of self-restraint he possessed to keep their conversation platonic. To not just tell her he loved her and missed her and couldn't stand them being apart a moment longer.
It was the same thing he had to remind himself of every morning, so he wouldn't get on the next flight back to New York.
There was simply too much at stake to rush back together before they were ready.
"Well, I should probably get to bed," Blair said softly.
"Yeah," he murmured in agreement. "It was good talking to you, Blair."
"Same to you, Bass," she replied, a teasing lilt to her voice.
Long after they'd said their goodbyes and hung up, he could still feel a little smile lingering around the corners of his mouth.
.
.
The following Saturday, Blair arrived at her brunch date in high spirits. There was a visible spring in her step as she approached the table by the window where Serena was waiting.
"Hey!" she greeted her friend as she slid into the opposite seat. "Did you already order for me?"
"Yep, I got your text," Serena replied, looking Blair up and down. "Someone's awfully chipper today," she observed, amused.
Blair shrugged.
"Just had a good week, that's all," she replied cheerfully. "And I am starving," she added, grabbing a muffin from the bread basket and taking a big bite.
"You must be, if you're eating carbs," Serena remarked.
She studied her friend for a moment.
"Things are better at work?" she guessed.
"Much better, now that my coworkers aren't trying to ruin my life anymore," Blair replied, allowing herself a victorious little smile. "You were totally right, they just needed time to get to know me, that's all."
The other interns still had moments when they got a little… territorial, especially when it came to the more glamorous assignments. But for the most part, her work environment had improved tremendously. She'd found that as long as she stayed on Phoebe's good side, the rest of the interns just fell into line.
Come to think of it, it was an awful lot like high school.
"That's great, Blair," Serena said warmly.
"And, as it turns out, the fashion industry isn't exactly teeming with available heterosexual males," Blair went on in an amused voice. "So I offered to introduce them to some single guys I know, and they practically mobbed me."
"What single guys do you know?" Serena's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Well, Nate." Blair shrugged. "Nate's Columbia friends. And Dan… although I don't think he's really their type," she added dismissively.
"Yeah… probably not," Serena commented in an odd tone.
Blair glanced up at her, wondering if she'd detected a note of resentment- but Serena's expression remained amiable.
Their waitress stopped by to drop off their food, and Blair tucked into her eggs Benedict with a happy little "mmm." Totally worth the calories, she decided, as she licked a dribble of bright, buttery hollandaise sauce off the tines of her fork.
The two girls ate in silence for a few moments, before Blair's eyes returned to study her friend's face again.
"What about you?" she asked curiously. "Any updates on your love life?"
Serena shook her head.
"Oh, well…" Blair's brow furrowed for a second. "I'm sure you'll meet someone soon. I mean, you have a whole new school full of boys at your disposal," she added encouragingly.
Even if they were… NYU boys, she thought with an internal shudder.
"I'm not really looking for a relationship right now," Serena replied, intensely focused on her French toast. "I figure I should just work on me for a while, you know?"
Blair nodded in agreement.
"They say as soon as you stop looking, that's when you find someone," she declared with a sage nod.
"Yeah, I'm really just not interested in dating anyone right now," Serena responded, a sharper edge to her voice. "It's not some ploy to accidentally stumble into a relationship."
"Right," Blair murmured, taken aback.
She took another bite of her eggs, studying Serena out of the corner of her eye and contemplating other, less touchy conversational topics.
"So... I talked to Chuck his morning," she began, unable to prevent the little flip-flop of her stomach that accompanied her words.
Serena raised her eyebrows.
"You guys are staying in touch?" she asked, sounding surprised.
"Well, we just talked last weekend, and then we chatted again this morning," she explained in an airy tone.
She already knew her attempt to sound nonchalant was a dismal failure- she could feel the flush in her cheeks, and she couldn't keep a giddy smile off her face.
"We were just, you know… catching up," she went on, gesturing with her fork. "He's doing really well. The project's still ahead of schedule, and he's negotiating a deal to upgrade the hotel's computer systems that should save them, like, hundreds of thousands of dollars."
"Yeah, he mentioned the software upgrade last time I talked to him," Serena commented, dipping a chuck of French toast into a little ramekin of maple syrup.
Blair paused, her fork poised in the air halfway to her mouth.
"When did you talk to Chuck?" The words flew out of her mouth before she could prevent them.
"Oh, um..." Serena pursed her lips in contemplation. "He called me on Monday, I think." She returned to her attention to her food before Blair managed to recover.
There was absolutely no reason for her to be upset, Blair told herself. So Chuck called Serena. Just to chat. And he simply hadn't thought to mention that he'd been in contact with Blair.
"Well, the better the project goes, the sooner he can come home, so…" Blair trailed off, feeling her optimism start to return. "I'm hoping he'll be back in time for the White Party," she added in an upbeat tone. "I saw this suit in the Ralph Lauren summer collection that would just look amazing on him…"
She let her imagination wander for a moment, picturing herself on Chuck's arm, the two of them flawlessly coordinated- and, of course, obviously, madly in love. They'd make the rounds at the party, socializing and getting photographed for Page Six, before sneaking off for a steamy little rendezvous in the pool house.
"I already have the perfect Marc Jacobs picked out for myself," she added dreamily.
"It'd be great if he came back that soon." Serena's voice interrupted her daydreaming. "But I'm glad he's having such a good time over there... meeting new people and everything. I think it's good for him."
"Yeah, he mentioned he'd made some friends," Blair replied, feeling her cheerful expression slip just slightly.
She had to admit, even though she wanted Chuck to succeed, there was a tiny part of her- okay, maybe a not-so-tiny part- that wished he wasn't enjoying himself so much.
Good Blair- mature Blair- was happy for him. Thrilled, even.
But selfish, immature, jealous Blair just wanted him to miss her. To need her. To be so lonely and miserable without her that he would rush back to New York and straight into her arms.
"Yeah, Chloe sounds really cool, doesn't she?" Serena said casually, and took another bite.
Blair's eyes flashed upwards to find Serena innocently looking back at her, chewing on her French toast.
Chloe? Who the fuck is Chloe?
"Didn't he tell you that hilarious story about how they met?" Serena chortled, seemingly in disbelief. "They were walking their dogs at the park, and Monkey tried to hump Chloe's dog."
"Huh," Blair said tonelessly.
"They do say pets take after their owners," Serena added in amusement, before taking a sip of her iced coffee.
Blair stared down at her half-empty plate with a heavy feeling of dread in her stomach.
She knew that she and Chuck weren't officially in a relationship, and were technically free to date other people, but… he'd said that meeting someone else was the last thing on his mind right now. She'd thought…she'd thought he was waiting for her. Just like she was waiting for him.
But now it seemed like he was just moving on with his life, and trying to spare her feelings by keeping her in the dark.
All of her daydreaming seemed so silly and naïve now, she thought, swallowing back the lump in her throat.
"I… I'm sorry, I just remembered I have to run an errand for my mom," she said to Serena in a faltering voice, hastily gathering her things together. "I'll… call you later? Maybe we can have lunch again next week."
With one last strained smile, she turned and quickly made her way out of the restaurant, feeling Serena's gaze on her back as she left.
.
.
Serena made her way down Park Avenue later that evening, just as the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the towering Manhattan skyline. It was the first time she'd approached the Waldorf penthouse in almost four months.
She'd been so determined to leave the past in the past, to make an honest effort to rebuild her friendship with Blair. But somehow, just a few ill-advised comments from her former best friend had transformed Serena from a mature and reasonable person into a passive aggressive bitch in about thirty seconds flat. First, there was the nauseating suggestion that she was considering setting Dan up with one of her coworkers. Then came her patronizing "don't worry, you'll find someone"- after she'd taken the only 'someone' Serena had ever really wanted.
She honestly hadn't been able to stop herself from taking a swipe back.
And even though she'd exaggerated wildly - Chuck had barely even mentioned Chloe- Serena had taken a certain mean satisfaction in how much she'd managed to upset Blair. For some reason, listening to her gush about Chuck, her face shining with excitement and anticipation, had just... rubbed her the wrong way.
Maybe it was resentment. Maybe she just felt like Blair didn't deserve to be this happy after everything she'd done. Or maybe it was envy, because Chuck and Blair's obvious devotion to each other couldn't help reminding her of everything her relationship with Dan had lacked.
But now, picturing Blair's crestfallen expression as she'd practically run out of the restaurant that morning, the only thing she felt was guilt. She knew that Blair had been making an honest, if clumsy, effort to repair their friendship, and it was unfair of her to sabotage it by holding onto a grudge.
Smiling perfunctorily at the doorman, Serena strode through the lobby and took the elevator up to the top floor. When the elevator doors opened into the foyer, she was surprised to find the penthouse dimly-lit and quiet. An almost eerie silence hung in the air as she walked through the sitting room and up the stairs.
Dorota must still be on maternity leave, she thought.
She found the upstairs hallway dark as well, but she could see light streaming from underneath Blair's door, so she rapped on it lightly.
"Blair?" she called out.
When she received no response, she turned the handle and gently nudged the door open, taking a peek inside the room- only to find it empty.
Her brow furrowed in puzzlement for a moment, until she saw the closed bathroom door.
And an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
Blair hadn't relapsed in years, Serena quickly told herself, and it wouldn't make any sense for her to do so now, over some silly jealous freakout. But even so, she walked quietly towards the bathroom and stood outside the door for a moment, just listening.
But she didn't hear the gagging or retching that she'd feared.
She heard crying.
The sound was muffled by the heavy door, but the pitiful, heartwrenching sobs were unmistakable.
Feeling her chest tightening in worry, Serena pushed open the door without hesitation.
"Blair?"
Her eyes were immediately drawn to the petite figure on the floor- huddled against the wall with her knees tucked up against her chest, both arms wrapped around her legs. Her face buried against her knees, obscured by a tangle of brown curls.
Her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.
"Blair?" Serena repeated, but she didn't even look up.
At a momentary loss, Serena scanned the room, her gaze stopping on a box sitting on the counter next to the sink.
A pregnancy test.
Her stomach dropped down to her toes.
For a split second, every cell in her body was screaming at her to run, to escape from this situation as quickly as possible. Because if Blair was pregnant with Dan's…
She couldn't deal with this. She couldn't even think about this.
But at that very instant, Blair looked up, her tear-brimmed eyes catching on her friend's wide blue ones- and the utter despair in her expression stopped Serena in her tracks.
Swiftly, instinctively, her feet carried her to Blair's side, where she knelt down and wrapped her arms around her friend's trembling shoulders.
"It's okay, B," she murmured, rubbing her hand in slow, soothing circles against Blair's back. She could feel her struggling to steady her breathing, her body shaking with the effort of containing her sobs.
"I'm here for you," Serena continued in the same quiet, reassuring tone. "No matter what you decide to do about…you know."
The words caught in her throat, her chest constricting in protest, and she tightened her grip around Blair's shoulders. At that moment, she needed the comfort almost as much as Blair did.
"I'm not pregnant."
Blair's hoarsely-uttered words took a moment to sink in.
"…What?" Serena said in a confused tone, before her gaze landed back on the pregnancy test box.
It was unopened.
"B," she said quietly, trying not to sound admonishing, "I know it's scary, but… you have to take it. Once you know for sure… then you can decide what to do."
Blair shook her head against Serena's shoulder.
"I'm not pregnant," she repeated, drawing a shuddering breath. "I got my period."
Relief flooded through Serena, her lungs releasing a breath it felt like they'd been holding ever since she'd opened the bathroom door.
Oh, thank God, she thought to herself.
But relief was immediately followed by confusion, as she looked down at the tearful brunette in her arms. It must've been quite the scare, she thought, if Blair was this shaken up about it.
"Were you late?" she guessed, a note of sympathy in her voice.
Blair shook her head again.
"Then…" Serena's brow furrowed in bewilderment. "Why did you buy the test?"
"I…" Blair's voice faltered, her face still muffled against the front of Serena's shirt. "Chuck and I had sex, and we didn't… we didn't use a condom."
Serena couldn't even pretend to be surprised by the first piece of information. Having sex with Chuck Bass immediately after breaking up with a guy- and sometimes immediately before- was pretty much standard Blair Waldorf operating procedure.
Being careless about protection, however, was not.
"But you're on the pill, right?" Serena asked with a frown.
Another shake of the head.
"But then… why…" Now it was Serena's turn to hesitate, because nothing about this situation was making any sense.
One possibility occurred to her, lurking tentatively around the corners of her consciousness- but she dismissed it as too ridiculous to even contemplate.
"It's not like you to be that irresponsible," she said.
"No," Blair agreed, shaking her head. "He offered to get a condom. I said no."
"What?" The single syllable came out in a swift exhalation. "Why?"
"I don't know, I just… I got carried away."
The mumbled excuse fell on disbelieving ears.
"Blair, did you… did you try to get pregnant on purpose?" Serena asked incredulously, pulling back to look her friend in the eyes.
"What?" Blair said, stunned. "Of course not. It was a mistake."
"If it were really a mistake, you could've done something about it afterwards. You could've gotten a morning after pill," Serena said emphatically.
Silence.
"But you didn't." Serena paused. "You got a pregnancy test. And now you're crying on the floor of your bathroom because you have no reason to take it."
Blair still said nothing, her eyes averted, her chest rising and falling with each tremulous breath.
"B…" Serena shook her head, attempting to keep the judgment out of her voice as she tried- and failed- to understand what was going on. "What were you thinking?"
"I… I don't know." Blair faltered, swallowing visibly. "I wasn't… thinking. I just…"
She trailed off, looking more lost and confused than Serena had ever seen her.
Her deep brown eyes, wide and shiny with tears, appearing enormous in her small face.
"I don't know," she concluded in a barely audible whisper.
Silence fell between them as Blair stared down at the floor, quiet except for an occasional sniffle, and Serena stared at Blair- studying the wan lines of her face, her red-rimmed eyes, the pitiable quiver of her lower lip.
Her distressed, almost disoriented expression, as if she honestly didn't understand why she'd done what she'd done.
Obviously it hadn't been to trap Chuck into marriage- as if that would even be necessary- or for any of the various Jerry Springer-style reasons why women sometimes decided this sort of thing seemed like a good idea.
Which only left one other possibility.
"Blair, when you had your…" Serena paused, hesitant to even bring it up. "… your miscarriage, did you… talk to anyone about it?"
Blair tensed warily, then responded with a jerky nod.
"Father Smythe," she mumbled. "And… Dan."
"I meant anyone with a degree," Serena clarified, trying to suppress an eyeroll. "Like… a psychiatrist? Or a therapist?"
Blair stiffened in indignation.
"I'm not crazy, Serena," she insisted, pulling herself backwards so that Serena's arm slid off her shoulders.
She rubbed the moisture from her face and smoothed her tangled hair back, but the unsteadiness of her hands betrayed her agitation.
"I didn't say that," Serena refuted softly. "But Blair… you lost a child."
Blair said nothing, keeping her gaze averted as she straightened her wrinkled clothing.
"A child you and Chuck were planning on raising together. And you just… carried on with your life like nothing happened. You pushed Chuck away. You never mentioned the baby, never really grieved. You just acted like everything was fine."
She could see Blair's eyes blink rapidly, the muscles of her throat rippling as she swallowed.
"Maybe everything's not fine," Serena gently suggested. "And maybe… in some unconscious, roundabout way, you were trying to get back to the way things were. You know… before the accident."
Blair shut her eyes, tears slowly tracking their way down her cheeks as she shook her head, abandoning her attempt at composure.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," she admitted in a hoarse whisper. "I don't understand… why…"
She trailed off, choking back a sob.
"There's nothing wrong with you, Blair," Serena insisted, leaning over and enfolding her friend in her arms again.
"You lost something- someone, you loved," she murmured. "It's okay to need help dealing with that."
She could feel the tremors vibrating through Blair's petite frame, her tight, unsteady breaths- and felt almost overwhelmed with sadness and sympathy.
As well as a tinge of guilt, for not having recognized any of this sooner.
Blair Waldorf had never been a big fan of reality- she'd always preferred the version of her life playing on the movie screen in her own head. But after months of struggling to communicate with her, Serena had finally given up, her perception too obscured by hurt and jealousy to recognize what was going on beneath the surface.
She'd left her alone with Dan, who'd only enabled her. He hadn't done so intentionally- he'd just been too wrapped up in his own feelings to recognize hers for what they really were.
Loss. Heartbreak. Fear. Avoidance.
Breathing out a quiet, regretful sigh, Serena stroked one hand down the back of her friend's head, noting with some relief that her breathing had started to even out.
"I even thought, today… if I was…" Blair buried her face against Serena's shoulder. "I thought maybe Chuck would come back," she mumbled, sounding completely mortified.
"Blair…" Serena exhaled.
"I know, I know," Blair shook her head sorrowfully. "I'm like one of those… trashy reality TV stars. I should just get a lower back tattoo and call it a day."
"No, I mean... you don't have to worry about Chuck coming back," Serena clarified. "You know he's going to."
"Well, if he's already meeting new girls…" Blair took a deep, shaky breath.
"Yeah, about that…" Serena trailed off, looking contrite. "I may have… exaggerated a little. I really don't think that anything's going on with him and Chloe."
Blair looked up at her, frowning in confusion. "What? Then why did you say that…stuff about them meeting in the park? And… dogs being like their owners? And-"
"I was just… I was upset by what you said about Dan, so I… said it to hurt you," Serena admitted. "I'm sorry, B."
"Oh." Blair absorbed this information in silence. For a moment she looked as if she were trying to decide if she should be angry or not, but then she said, "I'm sorry for the things I said about Dan, I really didn't mean—"
"Don't apologize," Serena cut her off with a sad shake of her head. "We can't keep apologizing for the past. We've both made mistakes, we're both sorry. We have to try and move forward."
Blair nodded, her expression subdued.
"I'd really like that," she said quietly.
The two remained like that for a few moments, sitting together in companionable silence.
"So do I have to… tell Chuck about this?" Blair asked finally.
She sounded so much like a guilty child that Serena couldn't help but smile.
"Um… you probably should at some point," she replied. "Maybe you could tell him after you guys decide to get pregnant for real? As, like… a funny anecdote?"
She was pleased when her teasing had the desired effect- a faint, almost inaudible chuckle. She could feel Blair starting to relax, the tension draining from her body as she leaned into Serena's embrace.
"Serena?" Blair murmured finally, her face still buried against her friend's shoulder.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
.
.
A/N: So I'm very curious to hear everyone's take on this chapter- probably not what a lot of you were expecting. And FYI, this story will remain AU after 5x15ish, so I won't be incorporating events that take place after that- i.e., no resurrected dead relatives, Serena-as-GG stuff, etc. Oh, except for the DB sex having been terrible… because that was pretty much a foregone conclusion before it even happened on the show, haha.
That shiny new review button looks very tempting, doesn't it? I think so
I'm remaining cautiously optimistic about the finale tonight- optimistic about a CB reunion, cautious because I doubt they'll be able to do it in a convincing or satisfying manner. There simply isn't enough time to fix everything they've fucked up in one episode. But that's why we have fanfic, yes? And as long as Chuck ends the season smiling, and not brooding sadly into a glass of Scotch, I can make do.
And don't forget to tweet "Mr and Mrs Bass" during the episode!
Thanks as always to Terrabeth for betaing, especially for helping rework the last two scenes. And thanks to my lovely reviewers, you all get shiny gold stars for being so awesome: jojo.4ever, Dr. Holland, meg, ggreviewer, xochuckandmonkey (the "I usually never review" reviews are my favorite, haha), Trosev, mNEONw, Del, Curious Blonde, ChasingYou, Kathrynm37, Grish, amy, chris, RauhlPrincess, Ican'tbeMewithoutYou, wrighthangal, EBLouise, bfan, pty, Stella, Mademoiselle Bass, anon, teddy bear, livelybass, LeftWriter224, Aria, SummerR, chairfanforever, Krazy4Spike, alissaaaaacb, coleyoo, Questacious, ErinSmith20, annablake, louboutinlove, Rebeccajill, LowerCase32, and kosoul7.