Title: Bittersweet Welcome
Author: BookCaseGirl (Abby)
Date: June 27, 2009 (Beginning)
Rating: T for now; some could possibly be M
Classification: Well, sad...but it'll get happy, or you can all kill me.
Summary: After fifteen years away in Hong Kong, Chuck Bass returns to the Upper East Side for a sad event. When he sees all of his old friends and acquaintances – Blair in particular – he decides to stay for good, and finds out several pieces of life-changing information.
Author's Note: Again, I must say that I'm so happy with the great response to this story. I love reading all of your reviews, and they all never cease to make me smile! Also...I am still looking for a beta, if anyone is interested. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl
This isn't beta'd, so please accept my apologies for mistakes.
Chuck sat at the cherry wood desk that had been given to him as a gift from one of his father's former colleagues and was the main attraction in his expansive office. Drumming his fingers on a pile of papers that should have been tended to hours ago, he pretended to be listening to what the men on his conference call were talking about.
They were all incompetent bastards and a total waste of his time. Chuck really shouldn't have been wasting his time dealing with them in the first place, but it was part of the job description, and he did have to keep up appearances. As he listened to the men battle and argue on speaker, Chuck massaged his temples and focused on the small things – little cracks and swirls in the wood of his desk, a speck of dust on his blue paperweight.
"Gentleman, I have some rather important business of my own to attend to," he drawled, finger poised on the 'end' button. They barely acknowledged his leaving as he pressed down on the red button. Obviously they were too interested in themselves and which method of solving the problem would get them the biggest paycheck to care that their boss was leaving.
He turned to face the flat-screen monitor for his computer and placed his fingers atop the keys, praying for something useful to pop into his head. Nothing. Not one thing. Chuck shuffled around, standing up only to sit back down again. He opened one desk drawer before closing it immediately and did the same with the other four drawers in the desk. There was no point to any of this, no method to his madness. That was just it, he was being mad.
She drove him fucking mad. It was stupid how much Chuck let Blair affect him. No matter where he was, no matter what was occupying his time, she always managed to find a way to worm herself in – though most of the time, it was more emotional than physical.
Something occurred to Chuck and he sat down at his computer once again, bringing up a file that had been saved not that long ago. His fingers clacked on the keyboard and then his right hand moved over to the mouse where he clicked 'print'. Chuck went over to the printer near the door of his office, picking up the paper, and then walked out. He wouldn't be back anytime soon, so he made sure to lock the door behind himself.
**********
Victor fidgeted with the end of the sleeve on his cotton Abercrombie and Fitch shirt and pretended to listen raptly to the lecture his American literature teacher was giving on Madame Bovary. Once Mr. Pumpernickel (that wasn't his real name – it was just easier to pronounce than his true last name, which was Italian and complicated) turned around to the chalkboard, Vic finally turned his attention to the vibrating BlackBerry in his pocket.
He flipped it out in a manner that any other teenage boy would have fumbled the phone during and glanced down at the screen, trying to determine in record time whether or not it was important. At this point, important only classified as Nathan calling or texting; definitely not Arnold (his stoned-for-life 'best friend') calling and asking for some more money to bailout his dealer (what could Vic say? He was a fucking masochist at his best).
This call was definitely important. He rose from the cheap plastic chair he'd been sitting in and went to the front of the class, ignoring all of the challenging looks from fellow classmates. Victor tapped Pumpernickel on the shoulder and the man jumped so high that – had it been any other person, and not this grouchy geezer – he would have thrown his head back in laughter.
"Sorry, sir. I was wondering if I may use the restroom? Those Swedish meatballs at lunch – man, they're killer." He was good, very good. That was the number one complaint of the teacher that stood in front of him, and the nonchalant way in which he presented his 'predicament' left no gap for suspicion.
"Oh, yes, yes. Please, do not let us suffer any longer in the wake of those little bombers." The old man waved Vic off with his vein-y hand and then turned back to the chalkboard.
On the way out, Victor glanced back into the cluster of students and noticed Lilly looking at him curiously. He winked conspiratorially and she gaped, glaring at him in return; they both knew – as well as the rest of the class, hopefully – that lasagna had been served for lunch today. That didn't really matter, though, since 'ole Pumpernickel's results for that Alzheimer's test he had had performed on himself last week still hadn't come back yet (with what were sure to be alarming results).
Vic locked the stall door carefully after making sure to check every nook and cranny of the bathroom to be absolutely certain that he was alone. Once he was sure that no one was eavesdropping, he sat down and dialed Nathan's phone number, knees rattling with what few jitters he had about uncovering more involving his...involving Chuck Bass.
"Vic! How are ya, kid?" Came Nathan's booming tenor voice through the phone.
"I'm good, for now. Could be better once you tell me what you've got," Victor replied, raising his eyebrows for effect. It didn't matter that the man on the other end couldn't see what his expression was; no, that didn't matter at all.
"You're uh...Well, Chu – Mr. Bass was seen leaving the Bass Industries building only half an hour ago with a determined look. I'm personally checking into it for you; I am actually -" there was what sounded like a shift of clothing on the other end of the line "tailing him right now," Nathan finished in a hushed whisper. Vic heard screeching of metal and what sounded like the halt of a railway and furrowed his brows.
"Where exactly are you?"
"Subway," the man muttered in reply.
"I don't really picture this Chuck Bass guy as being someone that enjoys riding the subway," Victor said skeptically.
"Well, he's right here, Victor. Right in front of me," his private investigator murmured into the phone, obviously trying to not yell. He was upset, Vic could tell. It was probably best to hang up, then.
"Just...lemme know if you get anything else, okay?" He asked brusquely, already standing and flushing the toilet so he wouldn't blow his cover to any passers-by.
"Where you in the john, kid?!" Nathan said at normal volume, sounding shocked.
And then Victor hung up, slipping his phone back into the pocket of his tan Dolce and Gabanna pants. Strolling back to class, he sat down casually, as if nothing had ever happened.
To the rest of the world, nothing had.
**********
None of these papers made any sense. It was all gibberish to Blair. She knew after only five minutes of filtering through the legal work that afternoon that she should have taken Serena up on her offer to get Dan – writing fell through and it turned out Dan was a damn good lawyer – to come and assist her.
She picked up her phone and her fingers flew over the keys. When it rung and went straight to the answering machine, Blair huffed and hung up, leaning back against her chair. She dialed again only two minutes later and finally – after three rings – Josie picked up the phone.
"Humphwey wesidence," the four-year-old said. Blair smiled at how adorable her young and tinkly voice was and made her voice extra warm for the little girl.
"Hey sweetie!" Blair gushed over the phone. "It's auntie Blair. Is mommy or daddy there? I really need to talk to them."
There was a clunk as the phone was thrown down – really, money didn't seem to be much of an object for this family anymore (though, for Upper East Siders, it never was, was it?) - on the tan marble counter of their kitchen. Yells could be heard at the Humphrey residence and Blair held the phone away from her fragile ear. Thirty three years of perfect hearing would certainly not be tarnished by one damn phone conversation.
"Yes, hi, hello!" Serena's voice was rushed, as if she had expected Blair to hang up in the time it took Josie to get her parents and for the shifting of the telephone.
"Serena, can you send Dan over to help out with all this legal crap? I'm having more trouble than I ever imagined, and it's the epitome of hell." Blair sighed and rubbed her forehead with one meticulously manicured hand as she listened to her friend.
"Blair, I'm sorry, but when I told you Dan could help...Well, since then, he's gotten put on a big case. He's hardly home anymore, and it's World War III over here. Talk about hell," the blonde replied with exasperation. "I'm really sorry, B."
She could hear the complete sincerity in Serena's voice and felt her heart sink to the bottoms of her feet.
"It's alright, S," she said, pasting that fake smile on her face.
"Good luck!" Serena replied with enthusiasm and encouragement. Blair rolled a few overwhelmed tears back and wiped under her eyes unconsciously.
"Thanks," she mumbled. "Talk to you later." Her voice was flat and either Serena was far too used to that by now, or she was preoccupied by the screaming that had ensued once again.
"Mhm, bye!" And then there was a flat, droning dial-tone, much like the way Blair felt at that moment.
She just didn't have the energy to deal with these things anymore. Blair needed help.
**********
Chuck had a strange feeling creeping up on his neck. It was cold and prickly, and he felt as if he was being followed by someone. No matter how many times he turned around, nothing changed and no one was there. Not one person from the crowd that was behind him – the charm of New York included great crowds on every street, in every corner – changed their position. None of them got suspiciously closer to him.
Maybe he was just being paranoid. Yeah, that was it. It was simply Chuck at his worst with paranoia and fright coating his insides.
However, fifteen minutes later, when he abruptly turned around again – almost to his destination – something was different. A man that he recognized from the subway (sometimes Basses took the subway, and there really wasn't anything wrong with it since he was Chuck Bass) had gotten a few feet closer to him. He was wearing sunglasses and a dark wool suit that looked freakishly pressed, even to Chuck.
As Chuck slowed, so did the peculiar man. And then he realized what was going on. It surprised him that he hadn't noticed before, since he himself had had men do this exact thing to people that he wanted followed. He stopped and the second he did, that man fell into his back (must not have been paying as much attention as was required by the private investigator handbook).
Just as the man was about to make a break for it – surely there were tell-tale signs of knowing on Chuck's face – Chuck grabbed him and wound his elbow around the stranger's neck. Chuck pressed his lips to the man's ear.
"Who sent you, huh jackass?" his voice was low and threatening; it promised that bad and torturous things would happen if the man didn't cooperate.
He shook his elbow and then tightened the grip that it had around his throat. A few gasps told Chuck that the bastard was struggling. Slime-ball, scumbag. All they ever hung around for was money and a little dirt on someone famous. It made Chuck sick now. Of course it was different for him since he trusted his own PI, Arthur.
"Who was it, asshole? Pearson? Cooper?" The man gasped something that sounded like a plea for release and Chuck loosened his arm. The last thing he needed was a homicide on his hands. An explanation was sure to follow, so he might as well just keep the man on an extremely short leash.
End Note: Sorry for the lateness of the update, againnn ha. Life has been incredibly time consuming. Please, if you want to beta, let me know! Hah. My official plan is to have this done by Monday, July 20th. Anyway, review please! They always make my day (or night, right now ;).