Grand Romantic Gestures

Chapter Five – Part One

February 22, 2009

I truly thought I had cast aside my romantic sensibilities last year. I thought I'd embraced practicality. Apparently I'd embraced stupidity instead. After all, only an ignoramus could still believe in Chuck despite all evidence to the contrary.

I lay with Chuck for a long time, maybe because watching him slip in and out of consciousness I was worried, but more likely because I knew I was done. When he turned his head to mine I studied that perfect profile and understood what I had wanted. I saw the innocence in his chin, the beauty in his deeply cut cheeks and I knew. That's what I loved. That's what I wanted to bring to life but I could never do that. It was caged deep within and I doubted even Chuck himself knew how to free it.

I'd fallen for my own twisted fairytale. Only one as distorted as me could try to make a happily ever after with the villain. I saw his external improvements: the grades and business and twisted my own proof from it. I wanted him to be getting better, I wanting him to be working towards something better. But as his body shivered I saw him again for what he was. He was just as screwed up as he'd always been; he'd just learned to buff the outside to a better sheen.

I ran my fingers through his mated hair and cried: Probably more for myself than for him. After all, I'm the one who loves him still. He is so beautiful when he sleeps that it's easy to pretend he's that beautiful when awake. He's not. He's full of anger and darkness. Perhaps it's the devil's last game, to paint the most threatening of men with tiny glimmers of innocence. Then it's easy to pretend that they are blameless, a victim of fate and circumstance. It was easy to pretend they're starting their life over when you catch them at the counsellors.

I'd penned a full novel out of that one; a story that should have started last night except in my tale he'd whispered not my name but a final, definitive I love you. He's embraced me and we'd finally talked. I should have known better. Chuck likely went to Sherman like a penitent goes to confession: An hour to purge their sins and another week to accumulate them again.

Now I had my own sins to confess, and my own penance to enact.

Blair Waldorf

Nate lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling until his breathing returned to normal and his toes straightened again. Beside him, Serena pulled the sheets around her chest though there was no real reason for the modesty. Nate could feel her breath again him, her ribcage expanding and contracting with every gasp. The mutual high cut through the otherwise silent house.

They were at the Archibald townhouse, beige walls and greenery setting the stage for one of their clandestine meetings. Nate's parents had taken a celebratory trip to the Hampton house. What were they commemorating? A young executive at Harold's firm had been arrested and while rarely an occasion for champagne and canapés, this arrest meant everything to the Archibald family because it removed the last stains of doubt. Harold had been arrested in Nate's junior year, initially for drug charges and then later for embezzlement. The Captain may have sworn his innocence but when he coupled that proclamation with an unplanned trip to the Dominican, even his own son could not believe him. It was proof that drug addicts ought not to make life altering decisions. Eventually the Captain returned, was arrested and then released on insufficient evidence. Such a condition hardly inspired trust.

But that was a year ago. Now Harold had months of sobriety and final vindication in the form of a guilty plea with full disclosure. They were very nearly the family they once were, perhaps a little too much so, Nate would admit between hits of weed. At least with the drama neither parent had the time or energy to focus on him. Now they were free to dwell on the heir's future.

"We need to make things public," Nate said suddenly, not really realizing the reason until after. He needed some topic of conversation that didn't begin and end with Dartmouth. Serena might not be as poised or distinguished as Blair but she had the right pedigree. She would be welcomed more wholeheartedly than Vanessa ever had.

Nate felt Serena's hair brush against his chest and knew she was staring right at him. He waited another moment before meeting her eyes. "Just tell her first," He suggested as he turned, and both pretended that Blair was the reason they'd kept things secret.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

The courtyard was engulfed in a wispy fog and Blair pulled her skirt more fully to the knee. She was seated on the steps, Serena keeping company at her side, the rest of her army gathered round. Blair surveyed her domain without satisfaction. Serena rolled a chocolate almond between her fingertips and Blair was taken aback at how thoughtful her friend's expression was.

"You might as well tell me," Blair whispered.

"You might not want to know." Serena countered and Blair's expression turned sharper once she realized she was the topic of her friend's thoughts.

"You're going to tell me sooner or later." Blair rolled her grape, unconsciously matching her friend's movements. "It's inevitable." Serena paused and Blair could see the indecision playing. She needed to get it over with. Blair had guessed that Chuck would confide in his stepsister, she only wondered whether it was in had been in triumph or revulsion.

Serena moved to whisper in her ear and Blair prepared herself, readied herself to have her foolishness put to words. "I'm seeing Nate," Serena admitted and Blair laughed in relief.

"I knew that," Blair rolled her eyes. "Worst secret ever!"

"Really?"

"It was obvious," Blair assured the other girl and breathed a little easier. For whatever reason Chuck hadn't said a thing; maybe he didn't remember. He was pretty gone. Maybe God still had pity for girls like her. She smiled wider and if Serena thought it was in acceptance of her and Nate then all the better.

"I just thought..." Serena whispered.

"That was your first problem." Blair laughed through a slice of strawberry. She was about to offer another snide remark when a set of snakeskin boots entered her peripheral vision, stealing away any amusement she might have felt. Blair bit another slice of strawberry, a larger one before she turned to face him. Chuck was staring down at her, smirk playing at his lips, confident posturing offering Blair nothing but trepidation.

"Well, well Queen B." Chuck stared down at her position on the steps, at the party of minions gathered around. Blair met his gaze and bettered it, her disgust only half feigned. "Taking advantage of half-drunk men. I thought you were better than that."

Blair's glare went darker as the girls gathered around her started to gossip. "In case you've forgotten, my boyfriend doesn't drink."

"But I do," Chuck countered, his self-satisfied smirk growing in proportion to her outrage. "Last night, my suite..."

Blair could hear the gossip intensify and she snapped a glare at her personal army. They stopped abruptly. Only then did she turn back to Chuck, wearing a smirk to match his. "You really need to stop fantasizing about me."

Chuck gave a curt nod and for a moment she thought he would desist. He didn't. He leaned down, face uncomfortably close. He put his lips to her ear and whispered the last for her only. "Fantasies don't leave five inch scars."

Blair could feel the red creep up the side of each porcelain neck but she didn't acknowledge it, or how fast her heart was beating at his proximity. She stayed iron straight until he pulled back, walking away as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Is that true," Serena whispered through her muddied thoughts and Blair snapped back to attention.

"Of course it isn't," She lied as easily as he had told the truth. "Who do you think I am?"

Serena stared her up and down, an unconvinced nod showing that even if she did not believe Blair, Serena would not question her on it again.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Blair was walking to Language Arts when she felt Chuck. He hadn't even touched her but she could smell the citrus blend. When had he changed his cologne? And how did she already know it? He pulled her by the wrist, closed the door soundly behind them and locked it with his free hand.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Blair hissed.

He leaned forward, his forgotten smirk returned to curl his lips as they inched to her. "You."

"Are you nuts?" Blair wrenched her arm back, pressing against the far wall, trying to create some needed distance.

"I might have let you win outside," Chuck's smirk spread wider, cracking over his white teeth. "But we're not out there anymore."

"You think this is some kind of game?"

"Do you want it to be?" Chuck invaded her breathing space and no matter how much she willed it, Blair's breath still hitched at the closeness. "An enjoyable," He touched his hand to her shoulder, felt the skin flush beneath his fingertips, traced a line nearer to her heart before he continued. "Pleasurable," He slipped his hands cross the swell of her breast and down her side until it reached the waistband of her tartan skirt. "Amazing game." He finished as his lips found her neck, laid tiny bites across her skin. Their intent was distraction from the fingers that were slowly pulling at her skirt, inching it upward, exposing her soft legs to the rough drag of her trousers. Blair wanted to be unmoved but under such circumstance, how could she not be? She begged her body to be neutral but it insisted on betraying her, of arching her back when she wanted it to be steady, head burying beneath his chin when she wished her glare to match his. "I want you so much," He admitted as his fingers found the lace of her thong.

And that was the problem. She never doubted that he wanted her; that had never been in question. Neither had she doubted his ability to seduce, to mix words and touch until a girl melted beneath her. She couldn't deny that she was half melted already but she didn't intend to let him carry her through. She wasn't one of his cheap whores and she wasn't about to be treated like one. "I already got what I wanted from you," Blair whispered against his neck. It was delivered as an endearment might be, except for the even tone and the cold ruthlessness of her word choice. Chuck couldn't help but remember Dan's deficiencies and some of his assurance melted away to nothing. "I'm surprised you even remembered it," Blair mocked him. This time she didn't bother to push back, she waited until her words forced him back of his own will.

Chuck wasn't going to admit that he barely did remember, that all remained of the evening was flashes of time, vague recollections of touch and a vivid imprinting of her brown eyes. He leaned back to stare at her. "You're unforgettable." Blair hesitated on his words because it was as close to an endearment as they had come since Georgina. Chuck wasn't one to miss an opening and he moved quickly into the space again, lips dangling dangerously close to hers. They would never find their satisfaction; Blair pushed him back across the small space the moment his breath mingled with hers. Chuck allowed it. Her arms were ineffectual; her strength paling to his but followed her hand's orders. He held back only long enough for her to regain her wits.

"Like I said, I got what I wanted."

Chuck watched her eyes and then, despite his general and now specific aversion to infidelity, he couldn't help but offer it to her. "You could have it again," Chuck suggested in a whisper.

Her response came in the shape of a palm, aimed at his cheek with violent force. He reeled back, but even as his cheek turned red, five perfect fingerprints outlined in a paler white, he didn't flinch. He was glad she slapped him; he needed the pain to draw his attention back, to remind him how dreadfully close to pathetic he was becoming.

That's why he didn't try again, didn't push further or try to touch her again. He simply waited as she turned away, stayed silent as she unlocked the door and disappeared.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Vanessa scrubbed the countertop for the third time even though the coffee shop was largely empty, perhaps because the shop was empty except for Dan. Vanessa split her working hours between this shop in Soho and another at Bedford Gallery. She had no trust fund, or in the case of Daniel an aging rock legacy to support her. She needed every single hour just to keep her head above water. For a moment, as she watched her brunette best friend flip idly from one page to another, she wondered if in his theatrics about poverty, he really understood what it meant. The boy sat in a corner booth, absently sipping cappuccino with one hand and turning his novel with the other. Vanessa took a deep breath and tossed her apron on the counter, sashaying across the small shop to sit at her best friend's side. As she drew closer Vanessa saw how intently Dan was studying his novel, a concentration built not in fascination but something darker. She doubted he was truly reading.

"Penny for your thoughts," Vanessa began the familiar game.

"They're worth..."

"So much more than that," Vanessa finished with a twinkle in her eye. She slid her long legs into the wooden booth, pity warming the base of her stomach.

"How's the script?" Dan was asking about her entry for the New York Film Academy short fiction contest. Vanessa had been invited to submit last year and the deadline was approaching, along with her dream of a full scholarship.

"Don't ask," Vanessa took a sip from his cup.

"That bad?"

"I've written thirty-six openings," Vanessa admitted. "Each worse than the one before." Vanessa stopped her friend before he could offer advice. "I'm sure inspiration will hit me when I least expect it," She echoed his regular offering. Dan offered one laugh before lethargy retook his features. "Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be," Dan asked, the slightest bit of self-mocking sarcasm biting the end of his sentence.

"I read the blast," Vanessa admitted. Gossip girl had blogged about Blair and Chuck's supposed night of passion. What else would have Dan drinking caffeine at 1:00 am on a school night?

"She said it wasn't true," Dan offered.

"And you believe her?"

"Why wouldn't I? I mean should I believe Chuck Bass?"

"How about your own instincts?" Vanessa tried. She didn't hate Blair as much as she once had, but Vanessa couldn't be coddled into liking her either.

"She's changed," Dan countered but his voice dropped with his certainty. "At least she had."

Vanessa drummed her freshly painted nails against the wood of the booth, erratic beat playing through the silence Dan needed to put his thoughts in order.

"I thought she had really changed. At the end of last year she was so open, so natural and free... Now she's turning back into a bitch," He admitted and the use of profanity was enough to suggest his state of thought. "She was like a whole other person a few months back. I don't know why she's turning back into what she was."

"Maybe she was someone else for a while," Vanessa suggested. "Grief tends to do that to people."

"But grief is supposed change people."

"Maybe it has," Vanessa agreed. "Just not in the way you wanted."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Eric pulled at his necktie as he entered the familiar studio, kicked the door closed behind him after he smiled at the curious onlookers. The showing wasn't until the following week but scandal and talent had intertwined to create an incredible fervour. Rufus had made the right choice, Damien was going to bring publicity, the nature of such, Bedford Avenue Gallery had never known.

"Eric," Damien broke into a smile at first sight. "I thought you were at school."

"Club was cancelled," Eric put his camera on the entrance table. "Mr. Wright was ill."

"I suppose it would be ill manners to wish him continued illness?" Damien smirked at the younger boy.

"Just enjoy your time while it lasts," Eric returned the smirk and eyed the gallery, they were nearly done the arrangements and while it was a much smaller gallery than the Grant, it was almost a better layout for Damien's show. It had an intimacy and atmosphere that really melded with Damien's very personal works. "I like what you've done here."

"You're just saying that because we used your arrangement," Damien pointed at the far wall.

"Admit it; you just couldn't better my argument."

"I shouldn't have tried," Damien agreed. "After all, you are the academic scholar."

"How come when you say that it sounds like nerd?" Eric lowered his brows.

"If the shoe fits," Damien shrugged his shoulders, an amused smile replacing his smirk.

"Jackass!"

"Geek!"

"Amoeba!"

A smattering of laughter from the far side of the gallery detracted from the bickering and became the focus of Eric's attention. He turned to the feminine voice, ears instantly recognizing it as his mother's. The other laugh was deeper, masculine and unfamiliar. Eric's smile dropped to a frown as he remembered Chuck's conversation. "My mother's here?" He asked even though the answer was obvious.

"Yes," Damien admitted and Eric noticed just how his throat worked to make the single syllable.

"Why is she here?"

"I thought she was here to meet you," Damien tried and Eric knew from the flinch that his boyfriend was lying. He remembered the Thanksgiving two years prior and suddenly everything Chuck had indirectly spoken of played through his mind.

"How many times has she been here?" Eric barked. Damien raked a hand through his hair in contemplation. Eric knew he was considering how much truth to reveal and the existence of layers just spoke to how serious this was. "Just tell me the truth," Eric bit right through them all.

"She's here most days, for a little while..."

Eric just stood a moment in his own contemplation. Then he grabbed his camera back from the table and started for the far room. There was more than one way to confront a cheating mother. "Eric..." Damien whispered as the two boys approached the longer hall. Eric put a hand up to silence the Brit and then moved even more silently, even more slowly across the wood boards. He disabled the flash and inched around the corner, trying to keep as hidden as possible.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Damien whispered into his boyfriend's back.

Eric didn't give a reply beyond a click of the shutter. Eric wasn't sure what he wanted, he was just sure of what he didn't want.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Chuck sat back in his father's chair. He did it a lot when his father was out of town, sat in the thick backed leather chair, hoping perhaps, that some of his father's expertise might bleed through to his son. Except he wasn't studying any drafts this time, he was studying the five page document he'd received from Yale.

He'd been avoiding this moment since Serena unsealed his acceptance. He'd checked the date of reply first, hoping just the slightest that it might have passed. It hadn't. He had another week. It's not that he didn't want to go to Yale. He'd even discussed applying last year; talked to his father about it when he'd been dating Blair. He hadn't wanted their relationship to end with high school. He'd been so sure they'd get that far. He must have been drunk. Now he wasn't and he was hoping for something else. He was hoping that at Yale, far away from the Upper East Side, he might earn another chance with Blair. By then he'd have settled things, by then he would be better.

If he could get there. Chuck read through every single condition, most of them were self-explanatory and many others he knew wouldn't stand up to a court challenge. He had to promise to conduct himself with propriety, to not defame the university, to allow his name to be used for publicity purposes. They were easy to fulfill. There were others that couldn't be resolved by keeping one's mouth shut or smiling for a camera, one that his eyes kept drifting back to. He was required to partake in sixty hours of drug and alcohol counselling before fall intake. Chuck recognized it for what it was. It was a test, how much did he really want to attend Yale?

If he hadn't known better Chuck would have guessed that his father crafted each and every condition. In fact, he did know better but still suspected.

Chuck opened and closed his phone four times before dialling the Dean's personal number. "Hello...Dean Baraby," Chuck sat back and sealed his future. He talked with the Dean for nearly an hour, his own enthusiasm breaking free from the layers of indifference he'd buried it in. If the conditions had hinted at it, then Dean Baraby's rambles made it perfectly clear why the university was accepting him. They deeply respected his father, and in times of recession, when their most famous graduates were nose-diving off luxury towers from London to Hong Kong, they needed the positive publicity to pull up their business school's sagging reputation. Chuck didn't mind. He knew he didn't belong there of his own merit. He was willing to accept their offer, no matter the reasons for which it was given. He could earn the university's respect later.

He phone beeped and after a quick scan of the number, Chuck clicked his brother through to voicemail. When Eric called back a second and third time it wasn't so simple to dismiss, nor as easy to focus on Baraby's line of questions. On the fourth call Chuck, having discussed everything of substance, excused himself and called his brother back.

"Chuck," Eric spoke across the airways. "We need to talk."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Blair eyed the petite blonde behind the door, the narrow glare of her painted eyes and knew exactly where she stood: Though she imagined that Jenny had hated her for longer than two days. She looked the sophomore up and down, several years of ruling authority cutting through the blonde's natural bitchiness. Jenny had been entirely undercut by Blair the year before and had never regained any of the popularity or power that she'd possessed in her first year at Constance Billiard. Not that she hadn't tried; she'd messed with the right boys but Blair had always kept her just far enough down. Blair imagined Jenny thought all would change when her brother started dating the Queen Bee. In a way it had. She'd desisted any action against the younger sister (to be honest she'd desisted long before that). It wasn't Blair's fault that Jenny didn't have the skills to climb back up.

"Jenny!" Dan called from behind the door and the blonde, with a sigh of resignation, opened the door. Dan chased his sister away with a peeved look and Blair took the chance to escape from the cold hallway. "I'm sorry," Dan offered automatically and Blair wondered if he truly was.

Blair threw her Hermes purse against the stained entranceway without a second thought. She'd long since moved beyond it. "I'm sorry" Blair countered and let it hang a moment before she explained what for. "Serena stopped by unexpectantly," Blair ignored her boyfriend's flinch at the name. She had so much more to make up for. "I brought movies."

"I thought we could talk instead," Dan cut her off and she felt that familiar dread return.

"If you want," Blair put her best fake smile forward.

They moved from the entranceway to the kitchen; Jenny scurrying towards her room as they approached. "I'm sorry for the mess," Dan mumbled and Blair realized she hadn't even noticed the piles of letters on the counter or the dirty dishes in the sink. Something was definitely wrong with her.

Dan boiled some water and took a box of tea from the cupboard. It was Blair's favourite blend, one she had brought over herself and insisted he keep. He only brewed it when she was there. "So what did you want to talk about?" Blair asked cheerily.

There was something in the way he spooned the honey that made the topic obvious. Blair prepared herself. "Do you think we fit," Dan asked as he pressed a cup into Blair's freezing hands.

"What do you mean?" Blair feigned cluelessness even though she'd thought the same thing a thousand times since their first kiss.

"We don't really have anything in common."

That was untrue. They were both scholarly and hardworking. That had to count for something. Blair was suddenly hit with the most absurd thought. They'd make excellent study partners. "I just think...the last few weeks."

She was about to be dumped. She ought to have been relieved but she wasn't. She could still feel Chuck's whispers, the heat of his touch as he'd traced her smaller body. She needed Dan and the protection he offered. She needed a boyfriend now more than ever. "I'm sorry," Blair said for the second time but it wasn't about the last couple weeks. She genuinely felt guilty, could feel the stain of adulterer painted on her forehead. "Things have been crazy. But they'll get better I promise."

"Blair..."

"This weekend..." Blair broke off. "We can do anything you want this weekend. Anything at all." She closed her eyes and waited for him to dump her anyway. He ought to. She deserved it. She didn't even know why she was trying to salvage something that was broken in the first place. She just knew that she owed him and she needed something to make the guilt go away. She just hoped it wouldn't involve hours of poetry or artistic theatre.

"Camping," Dan decided and every single nerve ending in Blair's body curled in revulsion.

"Sounds great," Blair squealed in false enthusiasm. She reopened her eyes and pasted the largest, brightest, fakest smile on her face.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

A/N – I'm sorry about not doing the personal reviews last time. I had wanted to PM you all but I just don't use the internet much and since the next post was finished I decided to reply to everyone here.

PS: I wanted to say that last weeks GG was the biggest fail I've ever watched. I literally hated everything about it. I hate when TV shows rip off movies (no creativity or what) so the whole Eyes Wide Shut was a FAIL. And Dan/Teacher. I've already given my heavily disgusted thoughts on that one. The only scene I did enjoy was the Nate-Vanessa one. And apparently they're going to ruin that this week with some random Nate-Blair. I absolutely hate Nate and Blair as a couple so I'm readying my barf bag as we speak. Oh, when did I become such a vicious reviewer? Honestly though. If there's no CB by the end of this season then I think I'm done with the show. I don't like being screwed around for this long.

Sky Samuelle – That whole scene in the closet was definitely Chuck trying to steal back the control. He hadn't managed yet though.

Modernmyth – thanks :) I hope Blair explained things better in the beginning of this chapter. She's a little confused herself right now.

LD – nope, Blair and Dan are still together but things are obviously not very steady.

Bradshaw-esque – Unfortunately Lily's good at screwing things up, but she may find herself screwed more than the rest of them.

Bluestriker – thanks

Annablake – Chuck is definitely caught in a bad place and it's only going to get worse when his Dad gets back and he'd even more confronted with his knowledge.

Blacklace – the UnjudgingBreakfastClub will go through a few more incarnations through the rest of this story and Blair will definitely get a role back

BRKOD – I think Lily really does love Chuck but what she's doing to him right now is really sh*tty. She ought not to try to get him to side with her against his father, but Lily is fundamentally a selfish creature.

CBEBTRBLSB trory12 – Yeah, Serena and Blair are doing alright right now. They're going to stay pretty solid through the rest of GRG.

Puresimplicity-xo – I think that no matter what happens between Bart, Lily and Rufus, Chuck and Eric will remain brothers because they're just that close. Chuck and Serena...not necessarily though they're getting closer.

Ashtondene – Right now Serena is pretending nothing happened and I think it the long run she can't judge Blair (no matter how much she'd wish to) because she's not the paragon of virtue herself.

Doxeh – I honestly don't think that Blair fits with Nate so I can't see her really being involved in a NSB triangle. She'd moved so far past that in this story that I don't think I could see her really wanting Nate again. I'm going to have a really hard time with it on this week's show. I think they're the GG couple I hate most. They have absolutely nothing in common and he treated her like dirt when they were together.

MidnightSky – Serena and Nate are going public very shortly and the reprucussions are kind of interesting

Up Next – A camping trip? Angry words, honest words, some well timed begging and one OMFG coupling!