A/N: And here is chapter 14! It's shorter than the others, but full of...well, you'll find out soon enough. Enjoy and as always REVIEW! We posted the missing scene from the last chapter, and it can be found here: s/8542601/1/Lavender-Suds-and-Sultry-Fun | Also, we appreciate everyone who has taken a moment to write a review, it really means the world to us. Those of you who are reading as we update and following/enjoying the story, please please please just take a moment to write us out a quick review! There are only a few more chapters left before this part of the story is over. So, as always, enjoy.
Chuck nearly choked on his mouthful of aged liquor when she spoke, an edge to her voice that was reminiscent of ones he'd heard before, but that was stronger, too. He looked over his shoulder at her, regarding her carefully, almost with suspicion (was she going to trip him when he walked back over to her?). She certainly seemed harmless enough, though that could very well change, but he decided to press his luck and he dared to venture into the general vicinity of the main living area.
"It shouldn't be that impossible to scrape some off them," he said dryly, grabbing his cellphone off the table in front of the couch and scrolling through his contacts. Andrew Tyler was busy, and he refused to divert him from that work. Mike, however, was trusty enough for this job, and he wasn't nearly as expensive as Andrew. The idea of throwing so much cash out the window on Humphreys was disgusting - there was only one person he'd spend that much money on, and she was currently three feet away with her nose buried in her phone.
Blair's eyes stayed trained to the device, she was checking Gossip Girl, looking for anything that she might have missed in the past that she could bring up—a sore spot, her Achilles heel. As she was doing so, a buzz signaled that Penelope and Is had responded to her text:
We R on our way 2 the VDWs. When will U tell us Y U exiled J?
Rolling her eyes, Blair quickly typed out a response:
UR job is not 2 ask Qs, it's 2 follow orders. Dnt lose sight of her.
After calling to cancel the reservation at Lion, Chuck placed a call to Mike. "It's Chuck Bass," he said. "I need every piece of unsavory information and information we can make unsavory on Daniel and Jennifer Humphrey," he said. "It shouldn't be hard." There was a pause while Mike questioned him and Chuck turned to Blair, lowering the phone. "How fast do you want it?" he asked.
Her eyes snapped up to Chuck's when he spoke, "As fast as you can deliver it."
There was a flash in Chuck's eyes and his lips twitched at the very corners. Focus, he reminded himself firmly, forcing any and all cleverly lewd comments from his mind, stilling his tongue. He lifted the mouthpiece back up and spoke into the phone.
"Mike? Yeah. Send over anything you find via email, and have a hardcopy of the information delivered to the lobby of the Empire Hotel within two hours." Then, he wandered idly away from Blair as she focused on her phone, lowering his voice of a more quiet, confidential tone. "Don't leave anything out, no matter how personal it seems. In fact, the more personal the better," he said grimly. "I want them finished, Mike. They've spent years trespassing on my territory and it's time they realized why I'm Chuck Bass." The two siblings had gone from being hardly worth Chuck's time to the technically step-siblings he was forced to acknowledge, to people who must be taught a lesson. It made him bristle with indignation to think of what the pair of them had tried to accomplish over the past two days alone, and he simply wouldn't put up with it. Every person had their breaking point, and it seemed he had just found his.
Blair's eyes went straight back to her phone when Penelope and Is texted her back with the news they had:
J is leaving the VDW penthouse, and Ull never guess w/who.
Attached was a picture of Jenny getting into a cab with Vanessa and Juliet. Blair's confusion, surprise, and anger couldn't even be expressed properly by the way her eyebrows rose to her forehead, and her shrill voice shouted, "Those little trolls!"
Chuck turned sharply at the shrillness of Blair's voice, making note of the expression on her face. "Hang on," he said into the phone.
Jenny, Vanessa, and Juliet? The three people Blair hated more than anyone, were chumming it up? She hardly believed that they were going out for dinner at Butter. There was only one thing that could bring these lowly UES girls together. But why Juliet? Blair wondered, staring at the picture. And Vanessa? Blair knew that she didn't have good standing with either of them, but nothing she had done lately could spur this kind of teaming up. The only logical explanation was that Blair wasn't their only target, but who else?
"Looks like we're gonna need more dirt than just the Humpreys. Vanessa and Juliet are teaming up with her." Her expression was blank, but her voice was full of amusement. Publicly humiliating enemies always did make Blair...excited.
Chuck locked eyes with Blair and nodded. "Done," he said, sparing a smirk. "Try to contain yourself, Waldorf," he murmured before addressing his PI. "Also Vanessa Abrams and Juliet Sharp. The same goes for them, anything you find sent over through email followed with a hardcopy when you deliver on the Humphreys. The sooner you get it, the faster you get paid," he said, hanging up the phone moments later. Pointing at the laptop by the couch, he spoke, "I left myself logged into my email, just open it. I'll call down to the kitchen for something to eat. Do you want anything in particular?" he inquired.
Blair placed her phone down onto the coffee table in front of her, before reaching over and picking up Chuck's laptop. She brought up a web browser and searched for the Friendspace pages of Jenny, Juliet, and Vanessa. She had a feeling that they wouldn't make any too personal information public, but Blair always was sneaky with her ways. Digging through hidden comments was always her specialty, as well as searching for the tiniest hint of upset in their updates. Jenny's last one stated:
Tim Gunn interview cancelled. Im so mad! W/e im back on the island, hit me up & we'll hang.
Blair shrugged and continued searching; looking through Vanessa and Jenny's pages to see if they'd had any chit-chats about their current visit. Juliet's page, however, was inaccessible, even for Blair. It made her more curious—no one really knew who this Juliet girl was, even Nate didn't know the whole truth about her. And she doubted N would be willing to share what he did know.
"I'll have whatever you're getting," she answered idly, staring at the screen intently as she tried to dig up dirt on her enemies. Though she was in fact very attuned into what she was doing, Blair was also extremely aware of what Chuck was doing. With their fight having been so recent, she still felt tension between them, especially since it hadn't exactly been resolved. The two of them had an issue with putting off talking about things. Her thoughts trailed back to what their plans had been for the night. Dinner at the Lion (she was going to order the Lobster pot pie), and then their night of sex-less love. She had a feeling that Chuck still didn't believe her about the text messages, and she was determined to prove it. If outing Jenny and her minions was what it took, she'd do it.
Chuck gave her a long, hard look, but despite his efforts at what could only be described as telepathy, her wide brown eyes remained glued to the screen. Under normal circumstances he'd have chalked it up to the fact that Blair Waldorf on a hunt, especially a hunt on people she loathed, was impossible to deter. She wouldn't rest until she'd gotten what she wanted, and it just wasn't something to take personally when you waved a $2,000 dress in front of her face and she still didn't look at you. Some of her neuroticism had rubbed off on him, apparently, because he couldn't help but feel that their recently (extremely recently) shaky ground was part of it. Although he might be just being foolish, it seemed like there was a divide between them that they were dancing around, both of them seizing this opportunity to have an excuse of being together without actually being together and fully acknowledging and spending time with the other person. They weren't talking about a takedown with each other they were talking about it at each other, as all those phony communications-based books preached. With a grim expression he picked up the phone and dialed down to the kitchen.
"Send up the entree for the evening to the penthouse along with…" he paused for half a minute, doing a mental scan of the menu in his head. "The seared squab," he decided on. Light enough that she wouldn't worry about it wreaking havoc on her waistline, but tempting enough that she would actually eat it.
At this point, Blair wasn't even reading the screen in front of her. Her ears were trained on Chuck, darting up to watch him whenever he wasn't looking. She was torn, unable to decide whether or not they should discuss their earlier fight. She perked up slightly when she heard him order one of her favorite entrees off the menu. By the edge of his tone and body language, she didn't even think he was aware of what he'd just done.
Inwardly, Blair cursed.
They were in love, little things like that were proof of it, so why were they fighting over a stupid little text message that she hadn't even sent! Slowly, her brown hues made their way back to the screen. She knew exactly why they were fighting—Chuck couldn't trust her. She didn't blame him, who would trust Blair? She was scheming, manipulative, sadistic…but so was he. In theory, they were a match made in heaven. But like every couple, they had their flaws. Trust being one of the worst.
After hanging up the phone Chuck shed his suit jacket - no need to look entirely put together if they were spending the evening entirely indoors, after all - and promptly loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves on his shirt. Essentially as he ever allowed himself to get when he wasn't strapped into a smoking jacket or a robe. "Find anything interesting?" he asked as he smoothed out a wrinkle in his sleeve, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Even to his ears the question sounded forced and he pressed his lips together, stuck, in his mind, between a rock and a hard place. Either he push the issue of what had happened, or they stay in what he was perceiving to be an entirely tense relationship. Communicating wasn't his favorite thing (and he was sure Blair knew that quite well), but their lack of communication about their not-so-small blowup might ultimately hinder their progress with this scheme if they couldn't bounce ideas off each other like they normally did.
Blair just shrugged at his question, "No," she responded, "Gossip Girl hasn't updated since yesterday. I doubt we're going to be able to get any dirt on these girls through the internet." At that, she minimized the web browser, leaving his email the only thing still up, and she was about to shut his laptop when he spoke her name, his tone so demanding and firm that it nearly made chills run up and down her spine.
"Blair," he began, trying to sound firm and draw her attention to him. "Are we going to-" before he could finish the sentence his phone went off with an incoming email. He sighed sharply in frustration.
"Mike sent something, you might want to check it out," he said, turning when he heard the 'ding' of the elevator and a cart was wheeled into the penthouse. Glancing at her, he went to retrieve it, giving his thanks before pushing it the rest of the way himself (anything to get rid of the third party - they didn't need anymore reasons to make it difficult to talk).
Gleaming silver covers were removed from the dishes and small swirls of steam exploded into the air. The squab was plated perfectly, and upon inspection of his own dish, he decided it was venison of some sort - he hadn't actually looked see what it was he would be getting. Chuck placed the covers to the side, disregarding the common silverware that was sent up with room service in favor of the better silverware that was in his kitchen. He ducked out of the living room to retrieve it but returned in a moment, placing her set down wordlessly before offering her one of the rolled up cloth napkins. His earlier drive to bite the bullet and rip the band-aid off (sometimes mixed metaphors were useful) was still in him, but he had lost his edge and determination slightly with the two interruptions they'd had, which infuriated him to no end. The more this night carried on, the more uncharacteristic they both seemed. He should be eating next to her on the couch, either just as engrossed in the information they were discovering and letting the wheels in his head tick and click with a plan on how to pulverize the nuisances, or trying to slide his hand under her dress and distract her. "You said no sex," he'd say when his fingers got dangerously close to the lacy black La Perlas he hoped were still located beneath that rich blue dress. He swallowed hard at the thought of them, because he knew that she'd have had no reason to get rid of them midday (although the idea of her walking around while secretly not donning any underwear was another fantasy driving thought entirely) and they were most certainly still on her.
Instead, they were stuck in limbo and were no doubt about to eat dinner in the sound of nothing but clinking forks and knives. His hand touched the edge of her plate, ready to lift it to hand it to her as she put his laptop on the coffee table, but her question made him stop short and his eyes jumped to hers.
"Are we going to what?" She questioned, staring him down with the same heavy gaze he'd just put on her.
The intensity in her expression was hard, piercing, exactly as his had been before everyone in this damn building had decided to try to interrupt them. If he really wanted, he could still beg out.
Blair, are we going to have time to finish planning the ball tomorrow night with this takedown?
Blair, are we going to need to tell the others about this?
Blair, are we going to sleep in separate beds tonight?
That last one squeezed his heart in a funny way and he decided right then and there that it wouldn't be happening. Even if they were both stilted with each other, even if he had to drag her into his bedroom and lock the door and swallow the key, he would end the night, whenever it did end, with Blair in his arms. Begging out, though, was the coward's way out. He'd been a coward too often, too long, when it came to the two of them, and he refused to slip into that role again. It had nearly cost him her once (or twice, or three times, or more), but he'd be damned if he let that happen again, not when they had a future together. He surveyed her carefully, trying to read her. There was no way she didn't know what he was about to push.
Another beat passed before he charged right in.
"I'm always going to be…" he stopped, a small grimace twisting at his lips and he swallowed to get the word out, "Jealous," he muttered, "of you and Nate. You were infatuated with him for as long as I can remember. Everything he did was good, everything I did was despicable, even if it was exactly what he did." He smirked in a chilling way, a memory playing before his eyes as if it were on a reel. "I saw you two at cotillion. When I participated in public brawls, it was selfish and low-class and a sign that the two of us couldn't co-exist. But when Nate punched Baizen," his eyes glinted. "It was hot." He'd only seen Blair attacking Nate's neck, but he may as well have walked in on them in the act, writhing and naked and screaming. The sounds Blair had been making, though, he knew them well, and coupled with the knowledge that the minute Nate got her behind those doors he would be going where only Chuck had gone before was…. It had taken large doses of liquor and pot to allow him sleep at night. "And when I didn't… show for Tuscany…" he dropped his gaze, brow furrowed. "My father was incredibly disappointed with me. It was something that Nate never would have done." He sighed and sat down slowly, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward, locking his fingers together to brace him. "Nate's your fantasy," he said. "I don't trust you to want reality enough… but more important I don't trust myself to give you a reason to want this reality." He looked at her then, a strange mix of dark despair and pure love for her painted on his expression. "I'm Chuck Bass," he said as if that explained it all.
Blair had a hard time believing the words that were coming out of Chuck's mouth. A mixture of outrage and confusion swirled behind her doe eyes, but pain overtook both. How could she have allowed herself to make Chuck believe this lie? Was she no better than his father? Blair immediately felt cold, her thoughts bringing her back to when Eva was with him. His name was strewn across every paper in New York—the new and improved Chuck Bass. The perfect woman on his arm. A woman who donated money to charities and made Chuck breakfast. New York had coined her Chuck's best catch, the woman that changed Chuck Bass; something that the press had never even considered labeling Blair. She stared at the man before her, turning over in her head how she should respond. Half of her felt like kissing him would fix things, letting him know that she was his and it was going to stay that way. The other half of her was more firm, and told her that she needed to say something. Needed to reassure him.
"Nate used to be the fantasy," Blair spoke slowly, her tone steady and words calculated, "He's safe...kind, and handsome." She knew that it sounded like she was going off in the wrong direction, but she held strong, "But Nate is a pauper. Something surely not fit for a queen. You, Chuck, you're exciting. You only show the wicked side of you to the world, and I get to see the other side. The caring, passionate part of you that I love. You're one of the only people on this island that I consider my equal. One of the only people I'll listen to." She paused for a moment, "I know that I'm the same for you." She stopped again, gauging his expression before continuing on, "When I imagine myself, ten years from now, do you want to know what I see?" she stopped for a beat before, "Blair Cornelia Bass, owner of Waldorf designs' New York branch, wife of the most successful businessman in Manhattan." A soft smile broke out on her features, "You aren't just my reality Chuck. You're my fantasy, my past, my present...future...you're my everything."
He didn't say anything for a good while, he just looked at her, in serious contemplation. Wordlessly, he reached out, running his fingers through her long, dark brown tresses, relishing in the silken texture that flowed between his fingers. "I'm sorry I…" he trailed off, a little at a loss because he felt like he had so much to apologize for. He was sorry he reacted the way that he had; he was sorry he was a jealous, greedy man who just wanted to hold onto her forever; he was sorry that this discussion was even necessary, that she'd had to reassure him of his place in her heart; he was sorry… that he'd all but threatened to have her ring taken away from him, essentially promising that any thoughts of their future were demolished just because he got hotheaded. The words rolled off his tongue before he even knew what he was saying, but he didn't regret them in the slightest. It wasn't pomp and circumstance, and it wasn't the Empire State Building, but it was them.
"Marry me." He stated the words quietly as he drew his thumb across her cheek, not asking it because as far as he was concerned this wasn't a yes or no issue. "Whenever you want, however, wherever…. You don't even have to wear your ring now, we don't have to tell anyone but us, but I want you to…." He wanted confirmation. They'd only been reunited for a short time, but they'd never really been apart. It was always her, it had been since he was sixteen, hell maybe longer, and over the past few days they'd done everything but specifically state their intentions. He took a breath. "Marry me, Blair."
There was a moment of deafening silence between them.
A moment when there was nothing but them, as their eyes bore into each other's, breath held. Chuck's words made Blair's heart stop. She gently reached up, placing her hand over the one that was idly playing with her hair—a silly act of reassurance. Marry Chuck. It wasn't even a question, was it? She felt like shutting him up, telling him that there was no need for his words, though they held a certain sentiment that couldn't be expressed any other way. It was one of Chuck's ways of showing just how much he loved her. Marry Chuck. Mrs. Blair Waldorf Bass. It was a thought that had gone through her mind several times. She'd dreamt of how he'd propose. A lot of times they were back at the same spot outside the Palace, where he'd first told her he loved her. Other times, they were in the back of his limo, the first time they'd kissed. Never once did she imagine it would happen on her birthday, right after a fight, with no preparations or planning, just a burst of love that couldn't been contained.
It was better than any proposal she could have ever fantasized.
A grin broke out on her features, but she didn't speak. Instead, she leaned in and closed the distance between the two of them, kissing him for all he was worth, pouring all her emotions—good and bad—into the act.
Blair's dainty fingers slid into his short brown hair possessively, nothing that it…seemed shorter than usual. The thought barely crossed her mind however, and she reared back, eyes swimming with adoration and love.
"You don't have to ask me twice," she answered with a smirk, leaning in to steal another kiss, her tongue gently pushing past his lips, fingers slightly curling in his hair, before she pulled back slightly, her lips brushing up against his, breath short and full of excitement, eyes consumed with warmth and unadulterated love.
"I didn't ask you, Bass," he reminded her, thrilled beyond measure with his newest pet name - she might not be his wife yet, but this was good enough for him.
"Yes, Charles Bartholomew Bass, I will marry you. Wherever, whenever," she lightly pecked his lips this time, "But for the record…I want the ring." A greedy little smile replaced her previous smirk. She wanted it for two reasons; the first being the fact that she loved that ring ever since she saw it in Paris by accident, and the second was that she wanted the world to know exactly who she belonged to.
His face split into a grin when she remarked about wanting the ring. He was relieved by that, and knew that as much as she wanted it now, he'd wanted to give it over to her even worse. He kissed her quickly before disentangling himself from her and pushing up from the couch, swiftly maneuvering himself around it and striding towards the bar. He snatched up the velvet box and returned to her, sitting beside her and opening it so the stone could glint up at them. Swallowing tightly, the gravity of the moment finally settling in, he lifted it from the box, the metal cool between his fingers.
"Give me your hand," he said, voice bordering on gruff, and he held out his own hand with his palm facing upward. "Do I need to get down on one knee?" he was half sarcastic, and half wary - the one-knee-notion was something he'd held onto from his playboy youth that thought marriage was ridiculous, but knowing Blair Waldorf, she could very well demand that of him.
A rush of emotions washed over Blair as she stared at the ring. The one that the muggers took from him. The one he risked his life defending. This ring, one that she'd never worn, yet had so much history with, was going to be the symbol of their relationship, and their love. She immediately gave him her hand, waiting impatiently for him to slide the ring onto her finger (the ring she knew would fit perfectly, like everything he buys her does).
"Just put it on already!" She exclaimed, a smile riddling her features as she urged him to seal the deal.
After all, they'd been waiting for this moment long enough, and it couldn't have been more perfect.
A/N: Happy? We sure are. If you're enjoying the story please please please please (please?) take a moment to write us a review, and thanks to all who have been doing so all along! Everyone start getting excited, because in two or three more chapters you'll find out who has been behind all of the blackmailing in a climactic ending. Leave us a review and we'll work faster to get the last chapters pulled together! Promise! And, while we do enjoy reading reviews about our smut, we really really appreciated those of you who are involved in the story and speculate on the plot/characters and what's to come!