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: Okay! Wow. I really haven't been updating so I do apologize. Reviews are also dwindling...I'm not sure if this is because they're losing interest or what's going on... Oh well. Anyway, here's the next chapter, chapter 10! We're halfway through (: As always, I enjoy every review. If anyone hasn't seen the 2.18 promos, watch 'em! They're fabulous. Ask Abby, she'll quote the whole thing to you. Actually, she does not offer quoting services, so I take back the offer, but what she will do is amazingly beta!

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

X. Relief

The plane's engine roared to life, springing forward, sending the four passengers back into their seats. It rose higher and higher, piercing through the fluffy white clouds, until it finally leveled off. The humming of the plane was alluring, hypnotic even. Soon, Blair was fast asleep.

Chuck watched Blair intently. She would draw in a small breath, and then let it out through her mouth. Her hand curled in a fist around the airplane blanket, pulling it up against her to maintain warmth. Her eyelids fluttered and her eyes were half-mast, not quite open, but not closed, either.

It was like…how could he put it in words? It was like a mouse that had a huge chunk of cheese sitting in front of it. But in order to reach the cheese, the mouse would have to travel a series of death traps. He was the mouse, Blair was the cheese, and every single problem they had were the rows and rows of mouse traps, ready to destroy at any moment.

His eyes flickered to Serena and Nate. Her head was buried deep in his shoulder, and his arm was around her waist, with his head resting on her hair. They were the kind of people that Chuck had been jealous of all his life. They didn't have a care in the world; no matter the situation, they always managed to see the positivity. They were glass half-full kind of people.

Then there were people like him and Blair. They always saw flaw, even in the most perfect things and situations, there was always a mistake that could be fixed. Nothing would ever be good enough.

Blair was completely asleep. A stray strand of hair fell into her eyes. Chuck watched the strand dance in front of her face, to the rhythm of her breaths. Unconsciously, he moved towards her, prepared to tuck the hair behind her ear. But it wasn't like that anymore. He couldn't touch her. He held his breath as he lightly hooked the chocolate-colored curl behind her ear. He didn't release the breath as his finger gently grazed her cheek as he pulled away from her.

It was just too damn dangerous.

…

Tucson was hot. Burning was more like it. The ground seemed to sizzle as they walked across the parking lot to their car. Men wore no shirts, whether they had the abs to go shirtless or not. Women wore even less in skimpy midriffs and tiny shorts, whether they were fifteen or fifty.

"God, put some clothes on," Blair scowled at the offensively dressed people of Arizona.

"Blair, I think it's a little too hot to wear them anymore," Serena explained, then laughed mischievously, "Now I have an excuse to whip out the short-shorts."

Blair rolled her eyes, "Not me. I'm not a skank."

Serena snickered, "At least I won't be sweating bullets."

Blair shot Serena a scowl. It was true that weather wasn't exactly comfortable. But they were here on a mission, and nothing could distract Blair.

"Let's get to the hotel first," Chuck instructed, "Then we'll start off at the first two apartments. We'll do the rest tomorrow, because it'll be nighttime after we get the first two done."

Nate, who had been questionably silent, asked a question, "When do we eat?"

Serena's cackle filled the air, and Blair and Chuck glared at Nate. Chuck's eyes accidently caught Blair's, and for a second, there was a painful silence as the two stayed staring uncomfortably at each other. Blair broke away first. Chuck looked at the ground, coughing, trying to rid himself of the inappropriate thoughts that had crossed his mind.

…

Though the group had been laughs and jokes for the beginning of the trip, their search was now coming up empty, and the amusement was gone. They were sure Eric was in Tucson, and they couldn't afford to be wrong.

The first apartment had been a disappointment. A balding man had come to the door, dressed in a wife beater that didn't cover any of his massive and hairy stomach ("I'm going to barf up my lunch," Blair had informed them), told them that the residence belonged to Robert "Bob" and Hilda Sorensen, and had for the past twenty years. He told them he'd never heard of a Georgina Sparks.

The second apartment lobby was dim and seemed to lack air conditioning. The jumpy, neurotic doorman had looked at them as if they were psychotic, all of them dressed head-to-toe in designer stepping into the lobby of a two-star, run-down complex.

"Who you lookin' for?" The man at the counter asked, picking his teeth with a toothpick.

Blair grimaced, "The residents of apartment 163, please?"

"I'm sorry. Apartment 163 no longer exists. It was destroyed with the fire five years ago," the man informed them.

Chuck shot him a quizzical look, "Are you sure?"

"I've been working here for fifteen years. I'm positive."

"Do you know who I am?" Chuck asked, stepping forward, "If you do, then I suggest you let me see the apartment."

The man spit onto the floor, "I have no idea who the hell you are. And I don't give a damn."

"I'm Chuck Bass."

The man rolled his eyes, "And I'm Jones Norris. Does that mean anything to you?"

Chuck hissed, "Let me see the apartment now."

The man let out a low chuckle, "Fine."

He led them up a winding staircase to the first apartment room on their left. He pulled out a jangling set of keys, taking about five minutes to determine which key was the correct one. He slid the key into the doorknob, jiggling it a little. The door opened with a clang. The group peeked into the room; the man hadn't been lying. The room was in shambles, with crumbling pieces of debris and ash lying around.

They excused themselves from the building, heading back towards their hotel. They had worked hard for one day. But coming up empty-handed, none of them were satisfied.

"Chuck, you promised," Serena said as they hailed a cab.

"Serena, I'll find him," Chuck replied.

Serena shot him a doubtful look, but nodded shortly as Chuck returned an earnest look.

If only Chuck were positive that he could keep that promise.

…

Somehow the sleeping arrangements resulted in Blair and Chuck in one room. And even though they'd spent more than their share of nights together, the heat, the uncomfortable atmosphere, and the sexual tension created an awkward aura in the air.

"Can I turn out the lights?" Blair asked cautiously as she slipped into bed. How had two of the closest friends turned into such self-conscious, awkward people around each other?

"Yeah," Chuck agreed, nodding shortly. He managed to keep his eyes away from Blair. That nightgown, it was killing him. How had he agreed to stay in the same room as Blair just so Nate could spend time with Serena?

Soon darkness enveloped them, and he could feel himself falling, falling, sinking into the security of the blackness.

He tossed and turned in his bed. So many questions raced through his mind. It was impossible to sleep.

However, as he stared into the emptiness, counting Blair's rhythmic breaths, he managed to finally escape into slumber.

…

The following day seemed even hotter than the previous one if that were possible.

"We could totally fry eggs on the sidewalk," Nate kidded as they headed out for another day of hard work.

Even Serena didn't laugh this time. The joke was wearing thin. Every single one of them wore a grim expression on their face. If Eric wasn't found by the end of today…

Blair pulled out her phone, reading the sheet Chuck had printed out. She entered the third address on the keypad.

Serena waved her arm, hailing a taxi. A yellow cab slowed in front of them, kicking up dust as it skidded to a stop.

"Can you take us to Lovell Street?" Blair asked, as she slid into the front seat.

The taxi driver nodded twice.

They travelled on a gravel road that tossed them with every pebble they hit; each time, Serena would let out an uncomfortable giggle, but even she was beginning to break down. When Blair turned around to look at her, she caught tears glinting in Serena's eyes.

"We're here," the driver informed the group, pointing to the meter and holding out his free hand for the money.

Chuck handed him a few crisp bills as the rest of them stepped out. Blair felt an uncomfortable, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was the place. She knew it.

Blair watched the taxi speed away. It was as if he was trying to get away from there as fast as possible.

They stepped into the shabby lobby. This apartment was nothing like the other two they had visited the day prior. This apartment was flooded with light, so bright, and seemed to be completely deserted.

"Hello?" Serena called into the spacious lobby.

No one answered.

Serena stepped forward, peeking up the stairway. It seemed like there was something up there. A muffled sob was heard.

Serena and Nate sped forward, dashing up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Chuck and Blair lagged behind, scared of what could be upstairs.

Serena pounded at the door of apartment 163. The cries grew slightly louder. Serena groaned as she tried to force the door open. It was locked. Nate jiggled the knob, attempting to help her. It was no use. Whoever, or whatever, was inside was trapped.

Chuck pulled out a small device.

"What is that?" Serena asked, stepping back to allow Chuck a try at the doorknob.

"It helps when you have a PI. He's got stuff from the CIA," he replied, sticking the tool into the keyhole, twisting it.

The door popped open. Everyone gasped, pushing through the door.

Serena eye's caught sight of the frail body on the floor and she let out a mangled, terrified scream.

There lay Eric on the ground panting and gasping, pawing at the floor beneath him. He was an emaciated wreck, skinny to the point of scary, eyes glazed over with tears streaming down his cheeks.

…

Chuck's fingers shook as he dialed 911. Nervousness wasn't something he was used to and he kept taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

"This is Chuck Bass. We're at apartment 163 on Lovell Street. We need an ambulance."

"Sir? Speak slower, please," the deep voice at the end of the phone growled back in response.

"I. Am. Speaking. Slowly," Chuck hissed, "We need an ambulance at apartment 163 on Lovell Street."

"Excuse me? You're breaking up a little. Could you repeat where you are?" the man's voice flooded the speaker of his phone.

Groaning, Chuck stepped into the hallway to retrieve a better signal, "Apartment 163 on Lovell Street!" he cried.

"Oh, there, that's better," the man replied, "We'll send an ambulance promptly."

Chuck snapped his phone shut. His eyes drifted to Blair and Serena, crowding around Eric, pushing his face away from his face, feeding him what little food they had in their bags.

"Eric, come on, what's wrong?" Serena asked, trying to get his limp, unresponsive body to drink some of the water she had brought with her. Chuck eyed the bottle thirstily; it was still ice-cold, he could tell by the droplets of water dripping onto the floor.

Blair rubbed his back, sobbing, "Serena, he's burning up."

Serena nodded, taking the water bottle and drenching his flaming face with the water. Eric sputtered a little on impact, wiping the water away with a quick flick of his wrist. But he returned to his lifeless position almost as quickly as he had moved. Serena shook him a little, gently, but it was apparent he wasn't going to react again.

Nate, who had been scouring the apartment for details, called from down the hallway, "Hey! Guys, there's something over here."

Serena shifted her arm so it was balancing all of Eric's weight, "Blair, you go, I'll stay and watch Eric."

Blair and Chuck scurried out of the apartment room, terrified, but eager, to see what Nate had found.

Serena―

Guess you and your friends found us, huh? Unfortunately, we're not here to take the blame. But you know I've always loved Eric like a little brother, so I hope he's okay at least. Of course, we're as long gone as your virginity is.

And to the rest of you, well thanks for the visit.

Love,

Me

tbc