Last time in the Bassverse: Chuck and Blair spent a magical night and had breakfast together. Then duty called and reality was waiting…

Blair Waldorf strolled into the precinct office later that morning, eager to exercise some control over her investigation, since she didn't seem to be able to over her racing heart and the thoughts that kept returning to her night with Chuck.

She needed to solve this case.

As she moved down the corridor, she was vaguely aware of appraising looks, of voices suddenly ceasing, of whispers that started and then followed her….

"Good morning, Humphrey," her voice was cheerful and she was smiling.

He put down his coffee and his lips twisted into a wry smile. "I daresay it was for Chuck Bass. Did you enjoy your little sleepover?"

"Excuse me?" Blair was taken aback by his knowing look and sardonic tone.

Dan got up, taking with him a manila envelope that he opened as he made his way over to the desk she was using during the investigation. He unceremoniously dumped the 8x10 glossies inside right in front of her. The photo on top was a zoomed-in shot of Blair and Bass locked in an embrace on the dance floor, faces mere inches apart.

The photo beneath it caught them mid-kiss, the heat between them undeniable.

"When I saw you yesterday afternoon, you were fuming over that nude drawing we found at his place. You stormed out, presumably to confront him. You sure showed him, huh?"

"I was not aware that I was under surveillance last night." She appeared unconcerned by the photos and wasn't backing down.

"You weren't; he was…but I guess the point is kind of moot since you weren't out of each other's company all night."

"So he likes me. That's not a crime."

Humphrey laughed. It was a little more than like, from what he could see. "Is he or is he not the number one suspect in our case?"

"He is," she admitted. "And this," she gestured to the photos, "changes nothing. I told him that myself this morning."

"This morning? You're going to totally jeopardize this investigation!"

They were interrupted by the ringing of her phone. She glanced at the display screen and then quickly hit "ignore."

"That was him, wasn't it?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business. If it was him, it makes no difference," she insisted. "I will get that necklace back."

Dan sighed and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Look, Blair, I haven't known you long, but I've read your file and getting involved with a suspect has never been part of your MO before."

"Of course not," she sniffed.

"Which makes me wonder if you are out of your depth here with Bass. Yes, he's handsome, he's charming, he's rich -."

She started to interrupt.

He held up a hand. "I know, I know, you were the Princess of Morocco –"

"Monaco," she corrected automatically.

The phone rang again. She pressed "ignore" again.

"Look, you could have been one of the Penguins of Madagascar for all I care…I'm just saying the guy has a lot—and I mean A LOT—of experience with women. I just hope you know what you're doing."

"I know exactly what I'm doing," she said evenly.

"Delivery for Ms. Waldorf!" A delivery man came with a bouquet of peonies, followed by a second and a third and….

"Five bouquets?" Dan raised his eyebrows when the delivery men finally left. "Is there some significance to that number?"

Blair shrugged and refused to look at him, though she knew exactly what Chuck had been thinking.

In the limo…

In the foyer…

On the stairs…

In his bed…

In the shower that morning…

This was not acceptable. If he thought he'd get her attention with this little stunt…

"Ms. Waldorf, Charles Bass is here to see you," one of the detectives announced.

Immediately, Blair rose to her feet. Dan followed suit.

Another detective stopped him. "Mr. Bass said just Ms. Waldorf, only Ms. Waldorf. He was very specific."

"Maybe he wants to confess?" Blair suggested.

"Unlikely," was Dan's response.

"We'll see."


Blair forced herself to appear calm and move slowly, but inside her heart was pounding and adrenaline was coursing through her body.

She turned around to shut the door to Interrogation Room 2 before facing her quarry.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Bass. Are you here to confess?"

"So formal. The woman I had breakfast with was much more relaxed. Did you not like the flowers I sent? I believe peonies are your favorite. Perhaps I was misinformed?"

She glared at him, trying not to be taken in by the navy day suit with the matching shirt patterned in blues and purples. His jawline was freshly shaven and his hair artfully arranged, not a hair out of place. She remembered her fingers tangling in those dark locks and how tousled they had looked that morning. And then she glared some more. He had no right to look as polished as he did after the wild night they had just spent.

"The flowers are lovely, thank you." She took a seat across the table from him.

"Should I be here to confess something?" Oh, he sounded innocent enough.

"You tell me." She met his eyes and did not look away.

They were verbally fencing and she found herself relaxing a bit more as they fell into a dueling pattern.

"I'll confess that I've missed you today."

She rolled her eyes. "If you aren't here to confess stealing The Empress, then why are you here?"

"Well, since you haven't answered or returned any of my calls…," he drawled.

"I've been busy. I am at work, you know."

"Hard at work, no doubt, chasing down all sorts of nefarious thieves."

"What about you?"

"Not doing as exciting as chasing thieves, but I was hard at work," he moved closer and touched the tips of her fingers, "but then I couldn't get you out of my mind and I really was hard at work."

A shiver went through her. She told herself it was a shudder of revulsion.

Suddenly, the room was plunged into complete darkness.

Blair blinked to allow her eyes to adjust to the lack of lighting. She heard the scraping sound of Chuck's chair on the tile floor and then he had her hand in his and was pulling her up.

He didn't seem very surprised by the sudden blackout.

"What did you do?" she hissed.

"The lighting and security system here is one of mine. We don't have much time. In about twenty seconds, the lights will be back on, so I'm going to kiss you now." It was only fair to warn her.

She didn't have time to protest, nor could she with his lips covering hers and electrifying every nerve in her body. She just kissed him back with everything she had in her, despite the table that remained between them.

"Tomorrow," he whispered against her lips, "I want to take you flying with me. Will you go?"

She nodded.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes," she whispered back.

The emergency lighting system came up right on cue, revealing the pair looking cool and collected across the table.

As far as Chuck Bass was concerned, it had been a very productive meeting.


"Charles, you're not listening again," Dr. Cerra pointed out during their afternoon session.

No response.

"The sound of a kiss is not so loud as that of a cannon, but its echo lasts a great deal longer."

"Who said that?" Now he was back in the game.

"Oliver Wendell Holmes, but it certainly applies to you."

"I've met someone."

"Yes, we established that at your last session. I must say I'm surprised."

"Why? This is hardly the first time I've been out with a woman before," he pointed out.

"Charles, you go through women like you go through Kleenex. They're never around long enough for you to reveal yourself to them…until now."

"I don't need to reveal myself to Blair. She has files on me. And what she doesn't know, she has an uncanny knack for figuring out."

Dr. Cerra flat out laughed at his reluctant admission. "And you don't have files on her as well?"

Chuck smirked. "A gentleman never tells."

"Did it ever occur to you that you are perhaps so intrigued by her because you are so alike?"

"I wouldn't say 'alike' exactly. More of a…."

"A mirror image? With some things reflected and others distorted, but enough to keep your attention."

"She is perfect in her imperfections," he agreed. "Do you think two wrongs could make a twisted right?" He uttered the words without thinking.

"The question is, do you? This is more time and effort than you usually spend on your…what did you call it…entertainment? You're breaking your own rules. Does that concern you?"

Everything she was saying was true. And it should have terrified him, but somehow it only captivated him further.

"I'm surprised you aren't running for the hills right about now."

"I'm not."

"Oh, but she is?" Dr. Cerra let out a little chuckle. "Oh, Charles, I like this girl. I really do."

The trouble was that he did too.


"Um, that's not your corporate jet." It was stating the obvious, but Blair felt it needed to be said.

"No, it's a glider. Have you ever been up in one before?"

She shook her head. "Isn't it just a mini-plane?"

"It's a heavier-than-air craft without an engine. It's powered by wind forces."

She looked dubious.

"And you can fly this thing?"

He nodded. "It's as close as soaring through the air as a human can get."

Blair was tempted to point out that being pleasured by him produced the same feeling without imminent fear of crashing and dying. She remained silent.

"I've flown this glider many times and I'm licensed. Trust me?"

"Can I?" she countered.

"What do you think?"

She wanted to argue that asking in that low, seductive voice and gazing at her with heavy-lidded, imploring eyes was cheating, but she just sniffed and walked toward the glider.

A few minutes later, they were secured in the fuselage, being towed by a conventional plane….and then they were rising…

Rising…

Rising…

When they reached the desired altitude, Chuck released the tow rope and they were free…

Gliding through the air…

Sailing through the skies…

Blair was enchanted. "This is glorious!"

Chuck grinned. "I'm glad you think so. Hold on tight!"

She barely had time to grab onto the side rails when he banked the craft into a barrel roll. Before she could stop it, a cry of delight escaped her lips.

"Don't let go!" he warned, this time executing a flawless loop.

Her exclamation of excitement turned his grin into a slow smile. When the glider returned to its normal position, Chuck leaned forward until he was level with the shell of her ear. "I wish I could've seen your face when we did that."

She was secretly relieved he couldn't see her eyes squeeze shut for the merest second or feel the shudder that went through her when his breath brushed her ear.

"I want you to take the stick."

"What?!" She was stunned. "No, I couldn't," she tried to demur.

"You can. I'm right here with you."

She shook her head.

"Wouldn't you like to try it? C'mon, don't tell me the amazing Blair Waldorf is afraid to take the reins."

"I'm not afraid of anything!"

"Then why be shy? You weren't this shy night before last," he reminded her.

He could feel her getting flustered, so he stretched his arms around her seat and placed his hands over hers, entwining their fingers and wrapping them around the front control stick.

"Just relax." His voice was in her ear again. With Chuck's guidance, they were sailing over ridges and hills, trees and fields.

Slowly, Chuck released her fingers. He didn't want to, truth be told, but Blair deserved the chance to try it on her own. His hands came up to rest on her shoulders. "Blair, you're flying."

"I'm flying!"

The morning passed in a flurry of new sights and sensations, until finally, Chuck set them down in the middle of a green field that was straight out of a pastoral painting.

When the canopy opened, Blair looked around and blinked. "Cows? Where are we?"

"A long way from Manhattan, that's for sure."

"You don't know?!" Blair's voice was rising along with her panic. "Don't you usually have a flight plan?"

"Usually, yes. I'm in uncharted territory with you." His words had more than one meaning.

She said nothing as he got out his phone and made some calls.


An hour and a half later, they were en route to the airport where the Bass jet was waiting.

"Was this more what you had in mind?" Chuck asked.

"It's what I was envisioning, yes." Blair looked around the well-appointed cabin of the plane. "But I couldn't have imagined anything like this morning's flight."

"Even with a landing straight out of the American Gothic painting?'

"Especially that." Her tone was dry, but her lips curved into a smile.

"Then you're really going to like my plans for the afternoon."

"And what are they?" Blair looked out and all she could see was water in all directions. "Chuck, I don't think that's one of the Great Lakes."

"It's the Atlantic, actually. I thought maybe we'd visit an island that isn't Manhattan."

Blair frowned. "I have appointments."

"Do you want to keep them?"

She sighed. "I don't have my passport."

"We don't need passports."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm Chuck Bass."

She rolled her eyes. "Wait, don't tell me, you own the island. It's not enough that you own so much of Manhattan that they'll start calling it Basshattan any time now?"

"Basshattan," he let the word roll around on his tongue. "I like the sound of that."

"You do live well."

"I do," he agreed. "So come live with me for the next 48 hours. No detectives. No paparazzi. No search warrants," he grinned.

It was an offer she couldn't refuse.


The island was charming. They landed at a tiny airport that was little more than a landing strip and a couple of buildings. Then they piled into a Jeep and set off for the coast.

Once again, Chuck surprised Blair by taking the wheel. "You drive?"

"I am quite the Renaissance man, but please don't tell my chauffeur, Arthur. He'd feel threatened."

As they drove through the countryside that was dotted with small villages, Chuck watched Blair take in everything with curious eyes. When they stopped at an open air market, he was amused by Blair chatting up the saleswomen and bargaining for tropical fruits in fluent French. He imagined she would be equally at home presiding over a European ball. That milquetoast prince was an idiot to ever let her go.

He tried to ignore the growing feeling of anticipation as they drove up the hill to the house he called his island home. He was eager to see what she would think of the place.

The villa was white stucco with red Italian tiles on the roof. It would've been perfectly at home in the hills of Tuscany or on the Amalfi Coast, but here, with the hills on one side and the white sand beach on the other, it was like a perfectly set, flawless diamond.

Sunlight percolated through the trees, warming the blossoms on the vines sprawling over the structure. The soft sea breeze swirled their scent in the air and Blair took a deep breath.

"It's beautiful here. They must be impressed."

"They?"

"Everyone you've brought here before." She didn't say 'all the women,' but it was implied.

He looked her square in the eye. "I've never brought anyone here before. It's just us here, you and me." It was true; the island was his own private retreat. It was suddenly very important that she believe him.

Their eyes locked and, to Blair, it was suddenly very hard to breathe.

They stood there for a moment, each sizing up the other, before Chuck shook it off first.

"C'mon, let me show you the house and then we can go down to the beach for a swim."

She stopped short. "I don't have a swimsuit. I don't have any clothes!"

"Alluring as it sounds for you to play the naked mermaid, there are two bags of clothing packed for you in the car."

"You brought me clothes? Was this a planned Bassnapping?!" she sputtered.

"Was it planned? Yes, of course. It's all I've been thinking about since you put on that prim little dress and walked out of my house the other morning. But admit it, Blair, is this really so bad? Are you here against your will? Because if you are, I'll call for the jet right now and we can go back to New York."

"Maybe we should enjoy the beach first," she begrudgingly admitted.


When she came back outside a few minutes later, she marveled that he could still look just as GQ cover-perfect in swim trunks and a partly unbuttoned, short-sleeved Oxford as he did in bespoke tailoring.

Chuck ran his eyes over the filmy cover-up that attempted to conceal the dark purple string bikini under it. "Does everything fit to your satisfaction?"

"Well, I haven't tried everything yet, but this seems to. I don't know how you knew that, but you did."

"I'm very observant."

She smiled and he smiled back at her.

"It's not necessary to wear the cover-up, you know. There are no prying eyes here."

"Prying? No. Preying? Perhaps."

"Admiring, certainly. You're the most beautiful woman on this island."

She laughed at that. "That's not saying anything. This is a very small island."

"This island. Manhattan. Any island of any size. My bet's on you." He took her hand and wrapped it in his before setting off down the path to the beach.

"You're doing your best to charm me, Bass."

"Is it working?"

"We'll see." Her tone was forbidding, but the flirtatious look in her eyes was encouraging.

When they'd covered the short distance to the beach, Blair slipped out of her cover-up and sandals while Chuck unbuttoned his shirt. Hand in hand once more, they walked through sand that was like warm powdered sugar right into the ocean.

"How deep is it?" Blair asked as the water level climbed up their legs toward their waists.

"Just a few feet. Just right for a swim."

"The temperature is perfect." She was practically purring.

"Then you won't mind if I do this," he let go of her hand and used both of his to splash her.

She splashed back as good as she was getting, until their impromptu battle evolved into a lazy swim.

Eventually, Chuck noticed that Blair was shivering. "Are you cold?"

"I wasn't before, but I am now."

"Come here, I'll keep you warm." His arms were spread in invitation.

She didn't hesitate.

Wrapped in his arms, their bodies sharing heat, she realized their mouths were close together…so close…

"Can we stop pretending now? That this hasn't been what we've been thinking about all day?"

She could feel the breath exhaled with his words and she could almost taste his lips.

Suddenly, almost was not nearly enough.

She dove into the kiss and let the sensations wash over her like the water that was lapping at their sides. She no longer felt any coldness or any other outside stimuli; there was just Chuck…his lips…his tongue…his hands…and the water surrounding them.

She was floating into him, her arms wrapping around his neck like a lifeline as he planted kisses down her neck and across her shoulders.

His fingers were tangled in her wet hair and he seemed to be working to get them free, though his lips had returned to hers and were otherwise engaged in kissing her senseless.

Nothing in her life had ever felt this good.

He was touching her…everywhere. The expanse of her back, the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips and the silky softness of her thighs.

She just held on, savoring the intoxicating friction between the softness of her body and the hardness of his, the delicious tickle of the hair of his bare chest on hers…

And that was when she realized…she no longer had her bikini top.

"You—you stole my swimsuit!"

"I've been accused of worse," he whispered in her ear.

"The bottoms too! What are you going to take next?" she demanded.

Your heart. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but thankfully he was silenced by an encore kiss.

"I'm going to steal yours right back!"

Whether she was talking about his heart or his swim trunks or any other part of him, he was open to it all.

So when she shoved his trunks down, wrapped her legs around his waist and lowered herself onto his cock, he was more than ready for her.

Immersed in the ocean and each other, with their swim togs floating around them, Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf were together and all was right with the world.

To Be Continued in Chapter 8


Author's Note:

I'm sure some of you are wondering why this isn't Shrk22's Define Kiss birthday ficlet. While I was trying to get into Kissverse CB's head, Bassverse CB kept interrupting and going on about how much they wanted to go on a tropical holiday. I can't help it; they schemed against me. I'm so proud. So, yes, more Kissverse CB is coming, just not right now. Shrk22, I hope this chapter is an acceptable birthday offering.

What did you think of this installment, readers? I'm always thrilled to hear from you. Special thanks to ChuckBlair8, Mercury1893, purplebowties and Klarobass for their kind words and support for ch6.

Until next time, readers!

Xoxo