AN: Sup. Listened to you criticisms and all that jazz and thank you all so so so much for reviewing and following and favoriting - it is what motivates me.

This is the last chapter for this episode and I am so excited for you to read my version of The Hand Maiden's tale.

iheartux3: The next few chapters are going to be longer! Thank you for your awesome review!

bleh: You're great-as always. But in response to the comment about the language, I know this is fiction but I like my characers to be as real as possible which is why I think that these self-entitled rich kids would be okay with swearing (especially when drunk) but in future I will remember to put up a warning so nobody gets offended :)

Thank you to everyone else that reviewed, you're all beautiful!

Disclaimer: Any dialogue, plot or characters you recognize from the show is not mine.

OUTFITS AND EPISODE STILLS ON MY PINTEREST: manhattanapples (the last few chapters are under Episode 5 board)

SONG FOR CHAPTER: Can't think of one that fits, if you think of one, tell me!

Even with the heavy, loud bass music shaking the club, there was nothing but the thudding of my heart and the occasional groan that met my ears: for some unknown reason all that I was aware of was the idea that I had to keep going otherwise I would be forced to think and everything was going to go to shit. Despite the rational Evie beginning to dangerously overthink everything, the drunken Evie awaking inside of me was ecstatic to finally be getting some action whether it was with Bass or not. She purrs when her back hits the bar and her dress rides up slightly. She's whispering sweet nothings in my ear: encouraging me; telling me to give in to those desires I'd been trying so hard to keep hidden ever since my eyes laid on Chuck at Blair's house when I arrived back.

Speaking of Blair, my rational mind begins to think only to be abruptly cut short by the velvety voice of my blissful nightmare who's lips escape mine, leaving me wanting so much more.

Eyelids flutter open and brown iris' meet. A thumb reaches out to brush my swollen lip and a shiver runs down my spine at the soft touch.

"Let's get out of here. Come home with me, Angel." I falter slightly at his demand but keep myself in his arms.

Come home with him? To do what?

What do you think, idiot. Grumbles the drunk Evie in mock exasperation.

Make love?

HA!

Make love? Make love. What am I a twelve year-old girl who still believes in prince charming and white horses? Get a grip, that dream died months ago.

Shaking the thought away immediately I pass reign to my other half (aka the non-sober half) who nods eagerly in response clutching at the opportunity I've denied myself for weeks yet now the thought of letting Chuck in was surprisingly reassuring.

A large grin spreads across his face and I can't help but smile with him. Leaning back into me he kisses the line of my jaw humming in a barely heard whisper- one I almost missed hearing.

"I knew I'd get you someday." As the words are muttered all of the sudden the club music comes blasting back at full volume acting as an alarm clock.

To explain what happens to me next, just imagine you're walking down a street enjoying yourself, believing that nothing can taint this perfect moment and then your livid doppelgänger hits you with a bus.

Drunk Evie doesn't know how to drive busses. Livid Evie can do anything when she's angry enough.

Instead of the sliding back into the comfortable nest my hands had made in his hair, they roughly push him back knowing that the more distance put between us the less I'd want to kiss him.

Shocked at my sudden mood change he's unable to stop himself from releasing his hold which I evade when he playfully tries to grab me again. As if this was a game.

But it is, isn't it?

I've always known he was just playing, Gossip Girl even knew it. Everybody knew it. Only I saw those fleeting looks and the hints to show that he might've wanted something more, but I should've known it.

I glance fleetingly at Blair, who lounges relaxed with a glass in her hand and her phone in the other. If Chuck wanted anything more than sex she'd have been shocked to the bone, running for me in an effort to get me away from this mistake. And that is what this is- a mistake.

"Get me? What am I, a giant teddy bear at a fun fair?" His lips tip upwards in that god-damn smirk and it makes me want to latch onto it with my teeth and rip it off.

"Of course not, Evie. If were at a fun fair you'd be a ride."

My teeth bite down hard onto my tongue stopping me for lashing out blindly. Instead of clawing at his face for being what I always knew he was, I calmly- with a poker face worthy to rival even the most skilful of gamblers –step around him and walk back to the table, grabbing my clutch, kissing Blair on the cheek (who gives me a wink as though she knows who I'm leaving with) and head towards the door.

As I begin to walk past the bar making an obvious display of ignoring Chuck I see out of the corner of my eye his victorious smirk fall into a thin line as he realises that I'm leaving… without him.

Even with the music I can hear him shout my name but I just keep walking; through the door; through coat check; through security; and through the throngs of street walkers all single minded with their destination. I don't bother looking back as I begin to walk already knowing that he's behind me.

"Evie," Chuck calls, sounding barely bothered by my back retreating hurriedly. "I've had a lot to drink and I'm not in my fittest form, Angel." I scoff escapes my lips, you haven't been at you fittest form since you took that first hit from the bong.

When I don't reply I can tell he gets angrier when I hear him barge streetwalkers out of the way.

"Evie! Jesus Christ! Slow down, I'm going to pull a muscle because of you!"

Whirling to a halt I spin to face him, a victorious smirk gracing his face at my stopping. My upper lip lifts slightly at his vanity.

"Trust me Bass, no matter how drunk I am, I will not be pulling any of your muscles."

Chuck chortles loudly, clasping his hands and leaning forward, his laugh reverberating. "Angel, I love it when you talk dirty."

I ball my fists in frustration, feeling all of my muscles tense in the need to pummel him. "Ugh! You're so infuriating!" I scream, stomping away (which is a difficult feat in these heels), not even caring if he follows me all the way back to Brooklyn- but I doubt he could be amongst the commoners for too long without the comforts of his stretch limo.

I turn to cross the street in an attempt to create more distance when my heel digs into the crack in the pavement and cause my foot to collapse, sending a raging pain to blast through ankle. Cursing blindly, grab the pained limb feeling frustrated tears swell in my eyes.

Could this night get any worse?

As if on cue, an arm wraps around my waist and lifts me slightly consequently taking some of the weight of my ankle. Chuck reached down to my foot and carefully takes of the devil shoe, I slide the other one off, relishing the refreshing feel of the cool pavement on my sore soles. Despite hating him, I lean in, resting in his arms- but just for the benefit of my ankle, I swear…

"Thanks." I whisper meekly, sniffling as quietly as possible.

"Let me take you home, Angel. My car is just around the block," I feel his warm lips press against cheek, "Just let me take you home."

Swallowing my pride, I nod, knowing I won't be able to walk home in this drunken, clumsy and injured state. Without giving me a second to change my mind, Chuck picks me up bridal style, apologizing when I hiss in the sudden shooting pain, and begins walking towards the street corner.

I forget how persuasive he can be.

Suddenly, he bursts out laughing, causing vibrations to transfer from his chest to my side. The feeling makes me feel weird, as though a laugh free of sarcasm is foreign to Chuck and this genuine emotion coming from him is… making me want him to share it.

"What so funny?" I ask looking up at his smooth chin to relish in the creases of laughter that rarely grace his face.

"Nothing, it's nothing. Just…" He looks down at me, joy filled eyes meeting my own hurt ones, "I wonder how we must look, my $800 dollar suit being crumpled by a shoeless teenager who is nearing the brink of passing out. We must look like quite the pair."

"Your suit is three times as much as this sparkly, pink dress and it's only black. Why would anybody spend so much money on one colour?"

"Because the more you spend on something that you could buy cheap, the more untouchable you become." An overwhelming sense of pity floods me and I hide my eyes from Chuck, knowing the sympathy that he might see there would hurt his overly sensitive ego.

As we walk in newfound silence, I can feel my eyes begin to drift shut and my hands absentmindedly begin to play with the end of his scarf, the only way that I am able to tell we're nearing the limo is when Chuck begins to slow down.

"Make sure she gets home safe." He says to what I assume to be his driver, "And then meet me back here in an hour."

"Yes Sir." Comes the employee's swift reply.

The door opens and I'm carefully placed in the back seat in such a way that my injured led is propped up the side seats, which all makes me feel incredibly pathetic and needy.

"You're not coming with me?" I didn't want to sound disappointed because if I was thinking rationally I would be far from it but I could help the ounce of disillusionment that betrayed me.

A small smile plays on his lips as he presses an ice bucket to my now swollen ankle, "Not this time, I've got some business to attend to."

"I'm sure you do," I reply with a small laugh. "You do know that when I'm completely sober and my ankle is only slightly tender, I'm going to act as though none of tonight happened."

"I thought you'd say that." Leaning against the car, Chuck looks down at me with a look that I find extremely difficult to name. "You must know by now that I find it a struggle to communicate my thoughts in..." a playful smirk graces his face, "an orthodox way. So I hope that whatever I said or did to cause you to leave that delightful place, know that I didn't do it with the intention of losing what distance I had made with you."

"How eloquent."

"I'm charming when I want to be."

"And you're an irritating so-and-so for the rest of the time."

"Am I really so horrible to be around?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"Maybe I can give you a more complete impression."

"Ha! I doubt it but thanks for the lift… or lifts?"

"I'll uh, give you a ride anytime." I give him a look that says, you're unbelievable, but decide that I'm too tired to argue with him anymore.

"Right, well, on that note I'm going to go home and sleep everything off."

"Okay Angel."

He nods to the driver and straightens, pressing down the creases of his suit jacket. His hand comes to rest on the door and I turn to my seat belt, thinking that he was just going to close the door and that would be that, but I should've known that Chuck always needed to leave an impression.

"But know that you may pretend as though nothing happened between us tonight but I'm going to dream about the taste of your sweet lips until the day I get another sample."

The door closes with a final thud, creating a blacked out barrier between him and I, only despite the tinted windows I hope he can feel the glare I'm giving him. And as the limo begins to drive of into the dark New York streets, I swear that I can hear him laugh.

That son-of-a-Bass.

Word is Jenny Humphrey killed at Blair Waldorf's sleepover. It was a debut the likes of which haven't been seen since Blair herself. If Blair's got to watch her back Serena needs to keep an eye on her heart. We hear it may have been stolen my Lonely Boy.

And speaking of hearts, we hear Evie's was beating pretty quickly. In fact this had been a very entertaining night for our favourite runaway. I just hope that when she tucks herself in tonight, she remembers that there is a reason you have to be asleep for your dreams to come true.

Wakey, wakey Upper East Siders, this is a city that never sleeps.

Putting out an A.P.B,

Gossip Girl.

Good? Or naaaaah? Review please, be nice!