Title: So Damn Beautiful
Author: fading_tales
Pairing: Chuck/Blair/Carter
Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.
Rating: PG-13 ~ T
Summary: Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.
Prologue & Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
The next week becomes a tumultuous time in Blair Waldorf's life. Her meeting with Eric's inventor friend proves enterprising and becomes the first of many follow up meetings. She's excited about something for once and the plans for a publishing company begin playing in her head. All they need now is some material to publish. She considers contacting Dan Humphrey, but she's been sick of Humphreys as of late, not that she blames Jenny for anything that had happened. Besides, she recalls Dan's writing and cringes. Judgmental, literary snobbery isn't the kind of writing she's looking for.
Her thoughts are interrupted when her replacement cellphone rings and the caller ID reads the one and only Dorota. It's a last resort when she has to call her old maid and confidante out of early retirement.
She asks Dorota to do some reconnaissance on the elusive waitress while she goes to yet another meeting with Cindy to finalize some contracts on their business partnership.
Blair comes home to find Carter Baizen, looking like a lost boy, waiting on her doorstep.
"What is it that you want?" she bites out.
It's been two weeks, but not enough time for her to get over his manipulation.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well so am I."
"I have a gift for you."
"I don't want anything from you."
She attempts to push past him to get to her door, but he blocks her.
"Please, just hear me out," he whispers.
He's being uncommonly vulnerable and so the little kink in her armor allows her to take a step back. Let him say what he came to say. She could always shut the door in his face later.
"What is it then?"
He wordless hands her a stack of papers.
"What's this?"
When he said he had a gift for her she had expected flowers, candy, maybe even some pretty, expensive jewelry. Paper wasn't on the list.
"It's a deed."
"A deed," she repeats.
"To Waldorf Designs."
She stares back at him dumbstruck. Memories of past newspaper headlines and articles on declining stocks and unhappy shareholders run through her mind.
"… You… you bought out the Waldorf shares."
"Yeah."
She stares at the stack of papers in her hands and then back at him.
"Why would you do that? A company isn't like a convertible, Carter. How could you have had the money to do that? "
"It was part of the plan. Once Eleanor came back, I knew that sooner or later she would force you to leave the company. Once you did, as I had expected, the share prices would drop and they did. Enough for me to cash out my trust fund and buy it."
It's one of those scarce few times in Blair Waldorf's life in which she has absolutely nothing to say.
"I did it for you," he emphasizes. "Don't you see? I did it all for you!"
Of all the grandest romantic gestures in the world, this has got to rank high in the biggest and the most convoluted.
He's the firefighter that starts fires in order to put them out. Those kinds of ploys never end well, and she wonders what could have possessed him to take such measures.
He searches her eyes for any indication that his desperate attempt at winning her over was working. That's the thing about loving Blair Waldorf. Once you do, you can't remember how it felt before you loved her and you don't want to remember or feel that way ever again. He's staking it all in this one final act of grandeur.
"I just wanted to be the one to save you. I wanted it to be me this time, not him. I wanted you to choose me."
He never was a good gambler.
"I didn't want you to save me. I wanted to save myself. I can't take this. I don't want it."
She hands back the papers.
"Blair-"
"This was a stupid thing that you did. This wasn't what I wanted. I'm sorry you thought this was what you needed to do. I'm sorry that I even involved you in this huge mess that is my life."
"I chose to be in it. I want to be with you."
"… I'm sorry. I… I don't feel the same way. I can't look at you the same way anymore. We're not good people, you and I. I'm not ignorant of our faults, our tendencies to manipulate and hurt. I just forgot how good you were at it."
"I was wrong. I made a mistake. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"You did. So I'm sorry, but what you did isn't something I can just sleep off."
She shakes her head at him and he knows that this is it. It's the end of the line for Carter and Blair.
"So that's it then?"
"We can still be friends," she replies lamely.
He scoffs at the notion.
"You were never going to pick me, were you? Even if I never called Eleanor, you weren't going to pick me over him."
He prays that she would contradict him. For once, he wishes Blair Waldorf would prove to be the argumentative, contrary creature he knows she is.
"…Yes, I would've picked him if I could."
He doesn't know how his heart manages to keep on breaking and yet he's still standing there in front of her, pulse still beating.
"But I'm not picking him. I'm not picking anyone. So it doesn't matter."
Somehow her addendum doesn't make him feel any better.
"In another world, in another life, we'd all be actors reading off of scripts and I'd be the one you came home to once the director yells cut. You two won't work out, this is the real world. You'll just end up hurting each other. It should have been me."
"Maybe it should've… but it isn't. Good-bye, Carter. I wish you well."
She presses a kiss on his cheek and finds her lips wet and salty. She doesn't look back when she steps past him. It's the second time she's walked away from him and doesn't look back. It's also the last.
Deep inside her heart she mourns what he could've been, what they could've been had they been different people like he said. But she doesn't regret anymore and she closes the door firmly behind her. She hopes that whatever happens, he'll find his peace somewhere.
xoxo
Dorota proves to be as reliable as ever and a leather dossier full of potential answers awaits her among the pile of mail. She reads the notes left by her adoring old friend with a bittersweet smile.
She hugs the leather to her chest, imagining that the older woman was there with her now. Chuck Bass was an orphan because his parents were no longer alive. Blair Waldorf was an orphan because her parents no longer cared. Dorota had been the only constant caring adult figure in Blair's life among a stream of disappointments. Cyrus had come close, but that was short-lived.
She tears herself away from reminiscing and clears her head for the task at hand. She had a blonde working class bitch with an agenda to find, an empire to build and so little time to do it all. With tentative hands, Blair opens up the dossier and makes quick work of the contents.
xoxo
She makes a trip to his office after perusing Dorota's report. To her disappointment the dossier held mostly information she already knew. This mission was becoming harder than she had initially expected. Exasperated by the round about way of collecting information, Blair decides to go directly to the source.
Arlene was neither surprised nor ruffled to see her. The older woman merely said that Chuck Bass was currently in a meeting and that he would be finished shortly if she wanted to wait.
"We both know that I'm not going to wait for him to finish his little meeting."
"Yes, but I thought I should at least look like I tried to stop you. Liability and all that."
Blair shares a smirk with the older woman.
"Whatever it is you end up doing, I'm definitely not the one to tell you that he's in the oak conference room down the hall and to your right."
Blair thanks and says good-bye to Arlene, quickly making her way to the conference room where a certain Basstard was currently located.
She bursts through the door while he was in mid-sentence, shocking men in suits who stared at her intrusion.
"Gentleman, if I could just a moment alone with Ms. Waldorf, please."
The room is soon cleared out, leaving the two ex-lovers in complete privacy.
"Blair. Wonderful as it is to see you… I was in the middle of an important meeting with my staff."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much, Bass. If anything, you know how to hire and train obedient monkeys. I'm sure they're all thanking me for sparing them one of your condescending lectures. I on the other hand, need a word with you."
"My, my. You sure are anxious to see me," he begins with a smirk. "And as flattered as I am that you seem suddenly inspired to visit me in my office. I am busy today and I don't have time for a proper office tryst. And we both know how much you love a bit of office tryst… in fact I think it was in this room where you…" he trails off suggestively.
Her faces turns red at the reminder of their more… adventurous memories.
"I just don't think I have enough time in my schedule to adequately perform that little… feat right now and I don't want to disappoint if we were to re-act some old fond memories."
She holds her hand up to refrain him from continuing on reminiscing on their colluded past.
"I'm not here to re-act anything of the sort. I'm here to tell you that I'm on to you and whatever it is you're plotting."
His face turns hard.
"I don't like to be messed with, Chuck, and I suggest that whatever it is you're doing…you better either stop or learn to be more covert. Because once I figure out what it is exactly you're doing, I'm going to put an end to it. And you're not going to like my method."
"I always did love it when your gloves come off," he says smarmily, moving a little too close for comfort.
His open flirtations don't fool her. She mirrors his actions and leans forward. She casually places her hands on either side of him on the table. The gesture is effective in pressing him against the table's edge and cornering him, just the way she wanted. Her eyes dropped to that half-lidded gaze in a way that can only mean one thing.
She means business.
Trailing her fingers along his leg and drawing languid circles on his chest, she eventually finds her fingers entangled in his hair. He hasn't taken his eyes off her face for a second and can already feel the blood rushing to his nether regions.
She moves as if to kiss him, only to turn to the side at the last moment. Her breath hotly whispering in his ear.
"Consider this a warning," she rasps and then proceeds to yank painfully on a fistful of his hair.
He'd forgotten that she liked to play rough.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Bass," she says as she sashays towards the door.
"For you… anytime," he calls out in between winces.
Familiar words bring a smile to her face as she closes the door behind her.
As soon as she makes outside of the building she reaches into her pocket and withdraws the cellphone of one Chuck Bass. It's about time she got all the puzzle pieces together in one place.
xoxo
Chuck's phone proves useful if not a bit abstract. Plans are made and threats are dealt out.
As Blair waits impatiently in Central Park for her "guest" to arrive, she recalls some of their more colorful past as well as their brief interlude earlier that morning, successfully making her feel a little too flushed in the cold New York weather.
As the clock hits two, her blonde guest inevitably shows up and Blair feels a smirk tug at the corners of her mouth.
"Took you long enough to get here."
If Blair was the sympathetic sort she would feel something for the blonde who was obviously was not too happy to have been discovered.
"Well? Don't you have anything to say to me?"
Her companion continued to fidget nervously, a sheepish expression accompanying the gesture.
"I was just following orders," the other party bites out.
"Don't give me that half-assed excuse, little Van der Woodsen."
Eric cringes and struggles to come up with something better to say in order to appease a very irked Blair Waldorf.
"Look. Chuck's my brother. You and I are friends, but you know what they say about blood being thicker than water."
"You aren't blood related!"
"Technicalities!"
Already Chuck Bass has managed to corrupt the impressionable mind of a once innocent youth.
"Eric. I'm only going to let you have one chance and one chance only. Tell me everything that you know about what Chuck's been up to and all will be forgiven."
She delivers threats with an angelic smile. Despite the extensive tutelage of one Chuck Bass, Eric Van der Woodsen is still too green to go toe-to-toe with the reigning Queen Bitch of the UES. He collapses under pressure like a badly made soufflé.
xoxo
After finally weaseling out some useful information from the younger Van der Woodsen, Blair begins to piece things together and realizes she can get more out of this than she initially expected if she plays her cards right. All she needs is arrange a meeting with the right person and Blair's been awfully good at arranging meetings that suit her purposes.
She leaves a note on Chuck's waitress's doorstep (address conveniently provided by Eric) that demands such a meeting. She waits in a coffee shop for her intrepid stalker to appear and is not disappointed. The blonde arrives on time and seats herself in a huff in the booth across from Blair's.
"Nice choice of location," the blonde snarks.
"I thought you'd appreciate the familiar setting. Does it feel strange to be sitting down instead of pouring the coffee?" Blair says with an innocent smile.
"Where's my phone? Hand it over."
"You mean this?"
Blair plays with the contraption in her hand. She gestures as if she was to hand it over but closes her palm and pulls back at the last second.
"Not before you answer some questions. Eric was vague about the details."
Blair's bleached counterpart crosses her arms defiantly.
"A girl with so many secrets… makes one wonder, who are you exactly?"
"Who do you think I am?"
"Definitely not a mere waitress, that's for sure."
"Yeah, I'm a cater-waiter. And people say blondes are dumb."
"Your snide little comments don't fool me. Drop the act already."
"Why don't you drop yours? You obviously think you already figured everything out, so come off of it."
Blair smiles back patiently.
"So… Besides moonlighting as Chuck Bass's personal spy, your cell phone also happens to get spammed with gossip leaks every five seconds. Suspicious much?"
"You should see my email inbox. I have major flooding issues."
"Your poor attempts at deflection aren't going to work. I know who you are."
"Well good for you!"
The other girl's tone is sarcastic, but Blair could tell she's overcompensating for her nervousness. She gets it because she's feeling the same despite her bravado.
"I'm surprised no one else found you out seeing as how clumsy you seem to be. You forgot your cellphone on a table at an event? Kittens? Really? You're seriously destroying my mental image of Gossip Girl as a gloriously deviant mastermind. I thought you were suppose to be clever or something."
"Well at least you live up to your name of being a bitch."
"Takes one to know one."
"Oooh. I got burned!"
"Enough of this useless talk. I know your secret and therefore I have power over you," she states simply.
"Trying to blackmail me? I have enough dirt on you that I could erect a new island in the Pacific!"
"No, not blackmail. I have a proposition for you."
Blair steels her voice over, making sure that not a quiver is so much as inflected her tone. This girl, maddening as it may be, was the key to solving all of her little problems.
"It's intriguing I'm sure," the blonde mocks.
"I'm starting a magazine. Well, actually I'm starting a publishing company, but I need something to publish."
"Yay for you!"
"And I need a writer..."
The blonde quirks an eyebrow.
"How would you feel about upgrading from self-publishing and get your work actually printed?"
"Gossip Girl has millions hits. I don't need to get printed."
"That might be good for a blogger, but I'm sure that your little website doesn't come with a hefty paycheck or the title of Editor-in-Chief."
"I'll have you know I get paid quite a pretty sum of money being a PI. All those neurotic women eager for some background check on their new boyfriends and what not. Not to mention a certain Bass-illionaire is on my client list."
"Then what the hell are you doing bussing tables and catering snobby parties for?"
"Maybe I just want to keep it real?"
"Please, spare me the down-to-earth crap. You love the scandal of the idle rich. You wouldn't be Gossip Girl otherwise. Problem is… to get those stories of yours you depend on people to send them to you and doing menial labor at snobby social functions to confirm. You have a sparkling reputation of credibility to uphold after all. And with the long delays in between your posts lately I'm thinking it's a little hard to snoop when you're juggling plates of food."
"How is this convincing me to be on your side again?"
"Let me finish. Sure, you have your PI business, but we both know there are only so many desperate housewives trying to bust their cheating husbands at any given time. You're picking up extra shifts at dingy coffee shops because besides Chuck Bass, the PI business hasn't been having that many patrons as of late and that has been severely impacting your little blog. Let's not even forget that you need a day job to support this guilty pleasure hobby of yours."
"Fine. So I'm a bit strapped for cash," the girl drawls with an eye roll. "So what if I'm interested? What's the catch?"
"There are only two conditions…well, more like one but with parts A and B. I want exclusivity. This means, A) you write for me and only me."
"So you want me to shut down the Gossip Girl."
"Not at all. You'll just have to set it up under my publication."
"And let me guess, you get final say on what goes up?"
"No. I'm leaving that up to you."
"That sounds awfully trusting. I've been known to spill a few of your secrets."
"If you got something good, then do it. It'll bring more publicity anyways."
"Really? No censors?"
"No censors," Blair repeats.
"What's the part B?"
"I need you to stop working for Chuck and the rest of your PI clients."
"Isn't what I do on my own time my own business? It's also a huge blow to my."
"I told you before. In the long run this job will pay off better. I'm letting you have free reign on what you write, but I can't have you influenced by other parties or lose focus. Those are my conditions. I'm giving you a once in a lifetime chance here. All the resources I have will be at your disposal. You can keep your anonymity, your freedom to write as you wish and a steady salary with full benefits. Not a bad deal if I say so myself."
"This sounds great and all, but how is it exactly that you are going to do all this? Last I heard you publically disowned your family."
"I have a few partners in LA and I cashed out my savings."
"Being Creative Ambassador of Public Relations must have paid a lot. God knows I couldn't be paid enough to endure being under Eleanor Waldorf's thumb," the blonde girl smirks.
"COO," Blair corrects. "And it paid enough to pave the path for the founding of Cornelia Publications."
"Cornelia? I thought you were a Waldorf?"
"I wanted a distinction to be made between myself and Waldorf Designs. People often forget that I'm Blair Cornelia Waldorf. It was my father's mother's name, tracing back to the time of Julius Caesar. The Cornelii was one of the most important families in ancient Rome. Compared to them the Waldorfs are merely superficial commoners playing at nobility."
"Fitting for a new start sans the Waldorf name and fortune."
"So, what do you say?"
Blair extends her hand out. Her arm is steady and her tone remains confident despite the pounding in her chest.
The fair-haired girl opposite her stares her in the eyes. For a moment Blair's afraid she's going to walk away.
"I say, you just got yourself an Editor-in-Chief," the blonde states, clasping Blair's hand with hers in a solid shake to signify their agreement.
Blair lets her heart calm down and lets her mouth curl into a haughty smile.
"I'll have the papers sent to you right away. I would also like you to meet with one of my partners. I'll call you later to schedule the meeting."
"I can't wait."
As the petite flaxen haired girl starts to walk away, Blair calls out after her.
"Wait! I don't even know your name. I have to write something on those paychecks don't I? Gossip Girl won't do."
The blonde stops in her tracks and consider the brunette for a few moments.
"… It's Veronica. You can call me Veronica."
"What? Too cool for last names?"
"You of all people shouldn't care about last names. I'll tell you what, if this whole publishing business succeeds, I'll tell you my last name."
Veronica gives her a last smirk and continues walking off to wherever women of mystery venture off to at the end of the old black and white films Blair always liked.
---
A/N: So the big PI/Gossip Girl revelation is here. I was inspired to make Gossip Girl Veronica when Kristen Bell mentioned in an interview that she'd just love to just show up as an extra as like a waitress or something and stare long into the camera. That and Chuck's penchant for hiring PIs… you add one and one together and what do you have? Veronica Mars is Gossip Girl. I know a lot of you guys had already guessed it with my little hints throughout the earlier chapters, but I hope it still came as a satisfying reveal. One more chapter to go guys!