A/N: Okay, so…I've been sticking to my writing schedule pretty well, but Gossip Girl Season 3 is starting tomorrow ( AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *clears throat*) and it's actually going to be awesomely somehow better since those CB film pics simply just made my life. XD ANYWAYS, point being, I had something else I had to write before this, but it wasn't CB or GG at all, quite original actually, so I decided to postpone it. Heheh. I can't actually expect myself to write TWO lengthy chapters in one night, when it's already 7:34 pm. I mean, honestly. Lol. So, but yeah. I HAD to write one last GG thing before the new season started. So…here it is.

*Remember, this is just a preview of a future story to come. So, if it is (too) long or short, that is why. ;p

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Idea 13 (Sometimes It's Hard)—How would 2x07 have gone down, if instead of saying 'I will never say those words to you', B said 'I can't'…would Chuck still have left? Would those 3 words have ever been spoken?

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The sexual tension could be cut with a knife.

From the minute he walked into the room, and steadily strode towards her, the heat inside her was exploding more than it had been when she had prepared for the event nearly an hour ago. Her heart was beating faster than she ever thought it would. She wasn't even thinking about how she must look or what she should be doing.

When he was looking at her like that, all she could concentrate was the ramped fluttering inside her stomach.

"What took you so long?" her eyes sparkled, fastened to his own.

Chuck's eyes raked up and down her figure, and it took everything in him to not drool or gasp in awe and desire. She was so gorgeous. So desirable. He wanted her. He wanted her. Desperately.

And now finally she wanted him. It wasn't exactly subtle how she sped up the 'seduction' process, by canceling it out at the Van der Bass party. He was furious that she got so involved with dismissing the idea of Vanessa from either of their lives. It had been her idea after all, and then he had hooked onto the idea of fixing that bar. It was all…so very, confusing. Only one thing would clear up his the theories twisting around in his mind.

"If you thought that was long, you have no idea what you're in for."

Brown gaze against penetrating brown gaze, heat building more by the second, Chuck's maroon velvet jacket dropped to the floor, and no more words were needed.

The anticipation rising in her overflowed into her eyes. They shone like the best present had just been given to her, in living form. He stepped forward, and she allowed her hand to rise up and rest onto the side of his face, hardly noticing when she pulled a bit rougher than intended on the silky smooth strands of her lover's hair.

Not that he was her lover, of course.

He hadn't said those three words, and so now he was nothing to her.

A nothing she just had to sleep with. Her life depended on it. And as of the last few days…she had become incredibly horny whenever he was in the vicinity.

Coincidence, I'm sure.

And then he was kissing her.

Oh God, his kisses. It was like sex to the mouth every time. And if there were no emotional entanglements involved, she would have stalked him for his sex kisses every night of the week.

Hotter kisses. More passionate ones. And at one point she bit his bottom lip spontaneously and pulled him closer to her. If this was just the beginning, she could hardly imagine how she'd make it all the way through successfully. He was going to take over her, she was sure. If only—

"Say it," he whispered under his breath.

Oh God. Dirty talk? Best. Night. Ever.

"Say what? I'll say anything," she breathed, a few more intoxicating kisses to hold them over a few more moments.

"Say those three words…you wanted me to say."

Her eyebrows furrowed, her head leaning back into her pillow. She couldn't believe he was seriously bringing this up. He fought for her…kind of. And then he completely ruined her. Even if the situation had been fixed, and her and Serena had made amends. He still did it on purpose. So what if her sexual desire for him had suddenly arisen from the ashes—maybe hadn't even been buried to begin with? It didn't mean anything. And even if it did….he never said the words to her, so there was no way she was saying them to him.

She scoffed, softly. "…are you kidding?"

His expression did not change. "Not quite."

Pause.

"Eight letters, Three syllables. Say it and I'm yours."

"But I'm already yours, and you're ruining the mood with all this talk," she pulled in for another kiss.

He pulled away, criticizing her every move in his mind. "You can't say it."

She sunk into the pillows, completely dejected.

"You wanted it from me."

"I'm prepared to settle," she tried to pull herself up for another kiss.

He pulled away again, rougher this time. More serious.

It concerned her.

"Maybe I'm not."

She sighed, sinking into the pillows again. She was horny as hell, but there was no way she was caving, and she had built up her façade too well to get all vulnerable again. But he was trudging through some seriously dangerous territory by opening up that topic again.

"Chuck Bass…"

He looked so expectantly at her, really seemed like he not only wanted, but needed to hear her say those words. Almost as much as she needed to hear them at the White Party, but…

She pushed on him. "Get off of me," she ground out. Screw her hormones; screw the realization that she was still in love with the boy nearly levitating above her, screw it all. Her heart had been broken enough times this year, thank-you very much.

"Excuse me?"

Her eyebrows narrowed, and she forced a glare in his direction. "You heard me. I don't want you here, and no, I'm not going to tell you those words. Take what you want from that. Just…just, take your lame maroon jacket and go screw some whore on your way home!"

She had pushed him off of her by now, and dove into her closet to gather her silky white-see through robe. She couldn't tell if he was hurt or feeling cocky, but he hadn't said anything and she wasn't planning on saying much else. He had already missed so much from her that night. Like how he wouldn't talk to her when she asked for a 'progress report' and how he hadn't even take notice of the dress he had gotten for her. She manipulated the situation well, sure, but…well, all that was going to come of tonight was more heartbreak. She regretted even creating the whole situation.

But he still wasn't gone. And she couldn't figure out why the hell not.

"Blair—"

She tightened the silky robe around her waist, and waited for him to leave. "No."

He sighed, brushing a hand through his now loose-hanging locks. "So that's just it, then?"

Silence.

"I just…leave?"

She avoided his gaze. She wasn't even horny anymore, not really. He had crossed a line, and she had stupidly tumbled in after him. She had only just recently bounced back from his unintentional hurtful pleas. She was not caving. She was not letting him get this close.

She nodded.

He scoffed. "So…what was this then? Are you playing the tease again?"

Her eyes narrowed at him, and she stepped a few feet closer. "No. I just don't remember love confessions being in the unwritten rules of this clause."

His eyes were piercing and his jaw dropped slightly more, but hardly noticeable unless one had focused completely on it.

"When you came back from abroad with that loser face, I was not informed ahead of time, for that desired love confession either," his teeth ground.

She blinked at him. "Are you…kidding me?" she stepped closer still.

"Ha! You know, that's the second time you've asked me that tonight, but ironically…no."

His expression. So unyielding, and firm…and serious.

She fumed, pointing to the door. "I said, leave. Besides, it's not like you really accomplished anything. I did the dirty work, when you got too sucked up in Troll face's uncontrollable frizz head. So technically, I don't owe you anything."

"Fine."

He stalked out of Blair Waldorf's bedroom, like it was the most destined thing to do in his life, and waited for the elevator to return to their floor.

Cries.

His ears heard them, had become so well attuned to Blair Waldorf's tears that he had to force himself to be numb to them, should the occasion arise.

Chuck Bass turned around and started back up the staircase, hearing what Blair Waldorf would not have admitted out loud, not this early in the game.

The Game.

It was so far from a game that it pained both of them to call it that, but it was so close to one too, that looks were becoming very, very deceiving.

"I don't know, S," she cried into the phone. "I know I shouldn't have done it, another of these stupid games that never goes anywhere. But you were right, I really wanted him again these last couple days, and then…when I saw him holding hands with Vanessa—yes, he was. Yeah, I know it doesn't mean anything. Ugh, would you be quiet Serena?!"

More tears.

But now they made sense.

She was totally jealous over him, and he had asked for confirmation from her, when all she had needed was some from him.

They couldn't both get what they wanted, could they?

He didn't know what the hell to do anymore.

"Blair…" he knocked lightly on the locked bedroom door.

Suddenly, the talking stopped, the crying lessened and he swore he couldn't even hear her breathing. His eyes closed and he leaned his head against the bare wall before him.

DING!

Elevator's here…

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A/N: So…um, I'm not really sure how this got so depressing. XD I did rewatch this scene in the episode though, and that was WAY depressing. I mean, I usually just watch up until they stop kissing, b/c it's too painful and embarrassing after that, but….yeah. *clears throat* *tries not to die* Please review! =D I know I didn't have her say 'I can't', but I suddenly felt like she wouldn't admit to something like that…at least not so soon. But when I actually write this, I will add it in. Perhaps in the second chapter or so. *shrug*

GG SEASON 3 PREMIERE TOMORROW! =D YAAAAAAAAY!!!