Chapter Eleven: That One Pop Gem

"Planning the wedding? Already? They should be planning the prenup," Chuck joked (more like just a joking tone, since he was dead serious). As they sat comfortably on his bed, his hand slid up the front of her shirt. What they were doing was actually more like laying, with Blair on her back and Chuck on his side, using his elbow to hold him up from the bed and allow him to just be slightly above her.

"You're supposed to be happy your dad is getting married, not helping him figure out a way to keep all his money if they get divorced," she reminded him, a giggle escaping her lips soon afterwards as his fingers began to play on her stomach.

"Waldorf, there are so many things wrong with that sentence," he said, moving so he was laying on top of Blair. Her knees were bent and there was one leg on each side of him. "First of all, if my father isn't happy for any of my great successes, I find no need to be happy for the fact that he'll be marrying another gold digger." As he spoke, he removed his hand from underneath her shirt, which he pulled off just seconds after. "Secondly, his money is my money. Without it, I'd be nothing. Therefore, I think it's important to find a way to stop Lily from getting it when they divorce- which they will. My bet is on them lasting for three months."

Even though Lily van der Woodsen was the mother of Blair's best friend and she probably should have stuck up for her, it was hard to disagree with what Chuck had said. The woman did have a reputation for marrying billionares and getting divorced before they even hit a one year anniversary. Everyone knew that, yet somehow she kept finding men to marry her.

"Remind me again of why we're talking about your dad. It's a strange thing for you to want to do when you have a shirtless girl underneath you," she pointed out, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

He enjoyed this for a few moments before breaking off and starting to explain. "It was my way of trying to get you to bring up our relationship." Chuck Bass was not a girl nor was he anything close to one (as many would testify), and he would never sink down to the level of asking where their relationship was heading. Sure, he'd insinuate he wanted things to be more, usually the 'more' being guarenteed friends with benefits, but he'd never out right ask.

"Oh, right," she said. It had slipped her mind. "So... what? You want to be official? We should just be public about it. Gossip Girl will find out soon enough."

The website haunted her. There was no where that Blair could go without having the feeling that someone was following her. With good reason, too. It wasn't even that the person running the website that was awful, it was everyone that had a cell phone. See something juicy? Snap a picture and send it to her. Didn't people have anything better to do? Blair was no different than any other student at her school, other than her long-term relationship with Nate. With that over now, she was still stalked. Maybe it wasn't such an awful thing. She couldn't deny that she loved messing up other people's lives- she owed it to them to have a run at messing up her's as well.

"We could start a good scandal about ourselves, Blair," he told her in his evil, scheming 'Girls aren't the only bitches' voice. It was a good idea. Starting a scandal about themselves? They knew how to manipulate everyone to believe lies about other people. It would be easy to make up lies about themselves. They'd just have to be careful that it didn't ruin them, just stirred things up and get out the fact that they were dating in the process.

"What exactly do you have in mind?" she asked, intrigued by the concept of it.

"I'm not sure. But like you said, Gossip Girl will find out about the two of us soon enough and start some rumour, so we may as well beat her to the chase and make sure that one is started that's interesting and not too bad," he shrugged.

A smile spread on her lips, and she brought them up to press again his in a short kiss. "Well, Chuck Bass, I never thought I'd say it, but you're brilliant."

"Try telling me something I don't know," came the automatic, cocky reply from his mouth.

"How about your scarf doesn't match anything you wear?"

"Touché."