Chapter 10: Forever Young

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl or any of its characters.

Thanks Lynne!!

Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while,
Heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies,
Hoping for the best but expecting the worst,
Are you gonna drop the bomb or not?

Reality:

Chuck was nipping at Blair's neck, making it very hard for her to walk, let alone speak. But she had to say something; this was not something she should be doing with him in the middle of the hallway, though it did seem intriguing . . .

No, Blair, no!

She was spending too much time with the Basstard.

Blair finally found her voice, and squealed, "Chuck! You have to stop. Dorota's probably watching from around the corner."

"So?" he said, his breath ghosting the nape of her neck. "She can enjoy the show." He smiled and placed a kiss just below her ear, eager to resume their previous activities.

"You are so gross." She tried to sound disgusted, she really did, but she knew he knew she was smiling. These days, she couldn't help but smile when he was around.

This was not a fair fight.

"And you love every minute of it."

See, he knew! He always knew! It was so infuriating . . .

And then his lips were back on her neck and her train of thought was inevitably lost.

"Only a mind as delusional as yours would think that." She said, hoping her tone was even, but at his chuckle she knew she'd failed miserably.

"I think my mind is very sound – advanced, even." Chuck gripped Blair's shoulders, turning her to meet him face to face. "I bet I can even predict the future."

"Now you're just being ridiculous," Blair mocked.

"I'll tell you what we will be doing on that bed of yours in exactly fifteen minutes."

His breath was hot on her face. Scotch.

Even at four o'clock in the afternoon he smelled of scotch.

"And what would that be, Bass?" she teased as Chuck leaned in and pressed his body flush against hers.

He murmured a certain expletive in her ear and even though she blushed crimson and her knees felt as though they may give out at any moment, she still dragged him inside her room and hungrily met his lips with her own.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"But only as friends."

"Just friends."

Just friends.

Blair's earlier conversation echoed in her head. She lay on the bed where she had just moments earlier faked her virginity. Her back was ridged; making sure none of her was touching him. She was waiting for him to fall asleep, so she could - and would - leave as fast as her four-inch-heal-wearing feet could carry her.

This was supposed to be the happiest moment of her life and Nate would never understand her need to run away from everything that reminded her of this event.

Everything that reminded her of this event reminded her of why she did it in the first place. For it was not out of love or even for passion's sake alone. It was all because of Chuck fucking Bass.

She had just gotten everything she ever wanted, or so she'd thought. But all Blair could think about was how in the world she had allowed herself to end up in this place.

Why did Chuck do this to her? No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, he was who she wanted to spend tonight with. His warm body should be the one next to hers.

Movie:

"You want to sleep?" Blair, wrapped in his arms and her silk sheets, said playfully to Chuck. "Seriously?"

"Yes, Meredith," He drawled, but his signature smirk still managed to creep onto his face. "I need to recuperate."

She smirked right back at him and said, "I am not some whiny unlikable leading character. My life it supposed to be Breakfast at Tiffany's, not a strange hospital where everyone's personal lives are more important then the patients with strange and life threatening ailments."

"I think you should change the title of your movie to 'lots of mind blowing sex with Chuck.' It would be far more enjoyable, I can assure you," he leered.

She looked at him, hopeful that maybe he'd decided to scrap that inane sleep idea after all, only to have him to shoot her down.

"After I get my beauty sleep, Waldorf." He winked at her, obviously pleased to have her so flustered.

"Well Bass, I'm pretty sure that for that to work the participant has to actually have to beauty to begin with," she deadpanned.

"That one cut me deep, Blair." He feigned hurt, even going so far to grasp at his chest.

"And people say that I'm the over dramatic one," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"You are over dramatic." He replied instantly.

She turned away from him then, but he snaked his arms around her small waist. "You're making this too easy, you're practically proving my point," he whispered.

"Am not!" she shrilled, the vibrations of his laugh on her bare back sending shiver down her spine.

He ran his hands up and down her arms, silently coaxing her to turn back around, which finally, she did.

He placed an unruly curl behind her ear, staring at her in a way that thrilled and unnerved her simultaneously before he continued, "There are pros to your over reactions."

"Oh, well I'm so glad you think so," she snapped at him. He silenced her with a lingering kiss.

"For every time we have some trivial little fight. . . "

"This is not trivial!"

He locked her arms over her head, hovering above her. ". . . we then get to have make up sex." And then he was kissing her again and doing more then kissing her.

It was all so effortless. Never perfect, but special somehow anyway.

Normally the imperfections would have bothered Blair immensely, but for some reason she always seemed to find herself too preoccupied with Chuck to care.

Imperfection had its benefits.

Reality:

Nate's breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep and Blair was dismayed to find her own heart still racing as fast as the thoughts flying through her head.

Blair peaked over her shoulder to see Nathaniel Archibald with a contented smile on his perfect face. Not too long ago she would have given anything to look over and be able to see him next to her, because that would mean they had finally had their perfect night together.

Now that she had her wish, she felt so hollow and alone. This wasn't perfect, or even close to being perfect . It wasn't even special in an imperfect way, it just… was.

She faced him, wanting to pinch him –yes, normally you would pinch yourself, but Blair Waldorf would not risk a bruise – and wake up from all this.

She wanted to go back to before Chuck. To a time when she wouldn't have been able to compare the feel of Chuck's demanding lips against hers, to Nate's renewed enthusiasm. Especially because his enthusiasm didn't seem to be able to make up for his lack of passion.

If she had never had Chuck then she wouldn't know now what she was missing. And Blair thought she would prefer it that way.

If there was anything this "event" showed her, it was that you could never really go back to how things once were.