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The sun shone brightly, aggravating Blair and her hangover even more. She was usually quite good at holding her liquor but last night was a blur. There were memories, vague, but still there. Blair found Chuck sitting on the sofa, sipping coffee and eating a danish from a tray of room service food.
"Muffin?" Chuck offered, reading the New York Times. He didn't bother glancing up from his paper. There were dark bags under his eyes as well but nothing soothed his exhausted and slightly hungover body like a cup of hot black coffee and a warm pastry.
"About last night," Blair said slowly. "We will never speak of it again, understood?"
Chuck looked up, mouth full of danish. His eyes met hers. Her eyes were cold and blank. There was no point trying to understand what she was think. Chuck shrugged and returned to his paper. Blair hesitantly took a seat on the edge of the sofa, making sure to keep as much distance from her body and Chuck's. She reached for a croissant in the bread basket but didn't eat it. She broke it apart in her hands, tearing it into smaller and smaller pieces before it was uneatable.
At Serena and Blair's insistence, the three of them went out every night for the rest of the week. They hopped from club to club, making sure to be seen by all. There were photos of them exiting stretch limos dressed to the nines and stumbling out of parties at dawn. Everyone wanted to be seen with them. Everyone wanted to be around them.
Much to the dismay of the other partiers, Serena, Blair, and Chuck kept their circles very small. They refused to be around people who didn't A) have trust funds, B) regularly featured in society papers, or C) were supermodels. Serena, who had experienced a brief career in modeling, kept several of her high profile friendships with the most sought after models. She also crossed paths with several socialites, being one herself. Both Serena and Blair knew several people part of New York's wealthiest families from school and social functions. It was only natural for them to hang out with others who were also young, beautiful, and rich.
Blair didn't like having to interact with them. She was cordial- just barely- but her wit and sarcasm was missed by most. Once the company left, she pointed out the addicts and the fakes to Chuck, with a malicious smile on her face and a snobby tone in her voice. Chuck listened to her tear apart her "friends," getting crueler with each drink she finished. He studied her face, noticing her lack of interest in life in general and her glee in pointing out the inferiorities of others. She was a complete and utter bitch alright. It was frightening but almost admirable at the same time.
The gossip mill adored them. The three of them were dubbed "the Triumvirate" and trashy celebrity gossip sites kept tabs on their nightly whereabouts. Page Six wrote an article on Blair Waldorf, "New York's Darling New Socialite", and her debut in society. They had found out about her schooling at boarding school in Switzerland and life as a Columbia student. As the daughter of prominent members of society, her name was already written on every invitation list and her spot in high society was guaranteed. Brains, beauty, and the bank account to boot. Not to mention the hot boyfriend. Blair Waldorf had everything. It took a week. No, less than a week. She had stolen the spotlight from Serena in a few mere days.
"I have lots of good news," Q announced proudly to M. "All my time has been dedicated to figuring out what's going on with Omni and I think I've figured it out."
"You know how to shut it down?" M asked gruffly. He didn't believe in handing out gold stars, especially not for effort. If Q was going to come in and talk to him about the problem, rather than working on trying to fix it, then he had better have the solution.
Q's happy expression faltered. "Well, no," he confessed, pushing up his glasses. His face was damp from perspiration. "But it's possible. I found the door."
"The door?" M did not look amused or in the mood for Q's nonsense. He needed to get to the point. Fast.
"We always thought that only Harold Waldorf could shut down Omni but I've found that there is program written into Omni that allows it to be shut down and completely wiped clean."
"So we know how to use the program then?"
"No. But now we know it's possible to shut down Omni without Waldorf. I think that the daughter knows how."
M paused. They had had their suspicions regarding her involvement. He remembered describing her as the 'key' to Agent 009. Things were starting to making sense. Things were starting to get put together. Progress. "You think Waldorf told his daughter to shut it down?"
Q nodded vigorously.
"Then why hasn't she? She should've come forward, right?" M was a skeptic and a cynic.
"That's obvious, isn't it? No one's told her. She doesn't know Omni's under attack. We just need to tell her the circumstances and all she needs is a computer and wi-fi and she'll be able to shut down the bloody thing."
"Is there any use though? You said that this person, whoever they are, has already got control over Omni. Have they released any of the, ehm, sensitive information?" He knew that if any classified information had been leaked through Omni, he was a dead man. The PM was still in the dark, for Pete's sake.
"We checked and none of the actual data has been breached. The hacker got in, but he didn't get in," Q emphasized. Even M understood this degree of vagueness. He gave a brief nod in approval. "The data is secure for now," Q added. "We've been up-ing the security ever since. I doubt the hacker'll be able to get through. We'll shut it down before he can. And then all of this will be done for good."
"Excellent. Get Agent 009 on the phone. It's about time Ms. Waldorf gets filled in about Omni."
"Blair," Chuck whispered. "Blair, wake up!" Chuck placed a hand on Blair's shoulder and shook her gently. Blair mumbled incoherently before rolling over to her other side. She had been a graceful sleeper up to this point, laying perfectly straight and still. Now she was waving her hands everywhere, trying to get Chuck to go away.
Chuck shook Blair again, less gently this time. Blair opened an eye. "What the fuck?" she cried out upon seeing Chuck inches away from her face. Chuck laughed hearing her cuss. "It's like 4am!" Blair exclaimed, check her white gold Rolex. She groaned, grabbed a pillow, and buried her face into it. Chuck stood up, clapping loudly and obnoxiously. He caught the pillow Blair threw at him.
"Get up! Get up!" Chuck said sounding happy almost.
Blair sat up in bed, running her hands through her hair. Her head throbbed with a hangover. This was not the time for an ambush thinly disguised as a wake up call. Was this some type of sick joke? "Why are you so happy?" Blair asked as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"It's about Omni. I've received more information," Chuck declared, happy that he finally got some information from M. He was tired of Blair's brilliant 'plan' to scare off anyone who dared to try and attack her. Really, all everyone knew was that she was just another drunk socialite with too much money and not enough of Daddy's love. Chuck roughly estimated that the cost of the week's shenanigans, from the drinks to the new clothes, well exceeded ten thousand dollars. The girl liked expensive things and had a limitless Amex.
"Wait, so I'm allowed to know real information?" Blair asked, getting excited. Finally, she was going to get some answers. She had no idea what the heck Omni was but it sounded important and she was going to be let in on what was happening.
"Yeah, we got to get over to Archibald's right now."
A/N: Sort of a cliffhanger but oh well. I'd rather update this short-ish chapter rather than wait another day. The next chapter will divulge a lot of information about the more spy/espionage-aspect of the fic. (Hopefully. That's the plan anyways.) Review if you please, it would make my day!