A/N: Hey readers! My apologies for not posting sooner. I just started a new job, and it's been crazy busy. Thank you for your patience.

I hope you are are keeping well and enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 55: Close Encounters with the Bass Kind

Good Morning, Upper East Siders. Gossip Girl here. This just in: While Big Bad Bart's trial recesses for the weekend, the senior class of Constance and St. Jude's is donning their ski boots and parkas for an end of the season snowy escape. But if you're like me, you're less interested in the slopes and more interested in what happens apres ski. Who is hooking up with whom? Who went streaking in the snow? Whatever happens tonight, I want to know.

Thick, wet snowflakes fell like a shaken snow globe. The road leading up to Spruce Peak Lodge was long and narrow, and bright needle-like skis swung from the ski lifts, elevating them into the clouds. As everyone pilled off the coach bus, luggage in hand, it was hard not to be impressed with the Aspen-style lodge that was all a-frames and windows.

Evelyn marveled at the sheer size of the lodge. It wasn't just one lodge either. It was a village of lodges each complete with balconies, some with hot tubs, and an amazing view of the mountains behind the lodge.

"This is amazing," Evelyn said.

"It's not Switzerland," Eric said, "But it's pretty close."

Inside the lodge was just as impressive. It smelled like pinewood and an oversized stone fireplace with logs crackled from a fire. A wall of black framed windows overlooked the village of accommodations.

"Please wait here while I check everyone in," Miss Prudence, their grade twelve chemistry teacher, said. She was an avid skier and organized a senior ski trip every year. She was so talented, that she skied professionally when she attended to college.

With all of her minions absent since they were underclassmen, Catherine took a seat at one of the armchairs and stared at her phone. Eric wandered throughout the expansive lobby. Dash and a couple other classmates disappeared to the bathroom. Evelyn remained close to the front desk where everyone had left their luggage.

"This is very different than where we stayed last time, isn't it?" Ozzy said, looping his hand around her waist.

"Night and day," Evelyn said. "Not that where we stayed last time was bad. It was quaint. This…is a whole other level."

The last and only time Evelyn went on a school ski trip, they stayed at an older Inn with floral wallpaper, cedar twin bedframes, and not much else. Perhaps her memory was further colored not just by the scenery, but the memories from that trip.

"If only we knew then," Ozzy said.

Evelyn and Ozzy sat on a loveseat that faced the windows. Evelyn yawned and rested her head on Ozzy's shoulder. She didn't sleep a wink on the bus, and after a very early rise, five thirty to be precise, she was ready to crash.

"I hope you know that this trip is going to be different this time," Ozzy said.

"Meaning?"

"No drama, no fights, no getting up and moving away to another state when it's over."

Evelyn lifted her head from his shoulder. "That sounds nice."

Ozzy's grip around her shoulder tightened. "I mean it. I know things have been crazy for you and your family, so instead of things getting crazy here, this can be an escape."

It all sounded nice, and even plausible, but drama, no matter how hard she tried to avoid it, followed her around. Evelyn settled her head back on Ozzy's shoulder, her eyes shutting. She could hear his steady heartbeat through his coat, its beat lulling her to a safe and peaceful sleep.

Just as she was about to doze off, Miss Prudence's voice cut through her dreams. Evelyn groaned, pulled herself up and joined the group of students who huddled around Ms. Prudence.

"Alright everyone. Everyone is checked in, and the bellhops will assist in bringing your luggage to your rooms. I'll give you some time to settle in and prepare yourselves for ski lessons this morning to prepare you for free ski in the afternoon. When I call your name, please come collect your card."

Miss Prudence started rhyming off the names of who was rooming with whom. Ozzy with Dash. Eric with Steve Miller. A predicable list of pairings emerged.

"Alright. And for the girls," Miss Prudence said, flipping the page on her clipboard. "Evelyn Bass you'll be rooming with…Catherine Baizen."

"What?" Evelyn and Catherine said in unison.

Ms. Prudence continued to rhyme off the remaining names on the list. She then checked her watch and concluded, "Alright everyone. Meet me back here dressed and ready to go by nine."

Catherine immediately bolted to Ms. Prudence. "Excuse me, Ms. Prudence? Is there any way we could rearrange the accommodation arrangements?"

"I'm afraid I don't have time for these silly complaints Miss. Baizen." She pressed a keycard in Catherine's hand.

"But Miss. Prudence—"

"Miss Baizen. Please go on up to your room and prepare for the day."

Evelyn turned to Ozzy, her arms crossed. "So much for no drama."

Chuck sat at the coffee shop on the corner of his building. He thumbed through the business section of the newspaper, looking for any signs or announcements regarding Bass Industries. Instead, he found more articles on the federal budget and the blocked repeal of the Affordable Care Act.

He set down his newspaper and dialled one of the few phone numbers he knew off by heart. It had its rightful place as his first speed dial on his phone, but for scheming purposes was now delisted.

"Mom?" Blair's voice crackled from the other end. "How's Paris?"

"Dull. It just hasn't had the same…spark since you left."

Chuck had steered clear from Blair since their staged encounter at the gallery. He had no idea what progress she had been making with Jack and he limited his calls to once a week for updates. It helped that after wrapping up New York fashion week, Eleanor took a break and was actually in Paris.

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Blair said. "I have some news that might add a little…spark to your day."

"Go on."

"I'm going to the opera tonight."

"Which one?"

"The Metropolitan Opera House."

"To see which show?"

"Anna Bolena."

"With Jack?"

"Yes. He invited me last night. A little last minute for my tastes, but that seems to be the way it goes in that family."

Chuck's teeth began to grind, and the muscles in his jaw tensed. He should be happy with this development. Blair was moving their scheme forward. And yet, the thought of Blair with Jack made his hands curl into fists.

"How…inviting," Chuck said.

"I know it's last minute, but I thought it was an opportunity I couldn't pass up."

"That's true."

"Mom, please. I thought you'd be happy about this."

The truth was he wasn't happy to hear that Blair was spending time with Jack. He was begrudgingly respectful about it.

"I am. I just…want you to be careful."

"Don't worry," Blair said. "You just have to trust me."

He wanted to trust her, but it was hard. It was hard enough to trust her with petty grievances in a school setting, but this was on another level. Blair wasn't just asking Chuck to trust her while they played with and humiliated a stranger. She was asking him to trust her with his enemy.

"Let me know how it goes," Chuck said.

"I will."

Chuck sipped the remains of his espresso and sat back in his chair. He just needed to trust Blair to do what she did best. It was easy to say, but much harder to do.

One of the things Chuck loved most about Blair was how she wielded her power over others. That quality didn't evoke pride and admiration like it did in the past, but anxiety. As much as Blair knew how to wield her power over others, she had only done that in a small pool. Now, she was swimming in an ocean, with a big Bass circling her. To do nothing felt negligent. To do something would topple the house of cards they were conscientiously building.

Chuck picked up his phone and searched the number for the Metropolitan Opera House. He listened to the droll ring until someone picked.

"Metropolitan Opera House. Ashley speaking. How may I help you?"

Watching from a distance seemed like an appropriate compromise to keep his distance from Blair while quelling his mounting anxiety.

"I would like to buy a ticket to tonight's show please," Chuck said. "Do you have any boxes available?"

Careful C. Didn't anyone tell you that spying rhymes with lying?

Evelyn held a steaming cup of hot chocolate in her shrivelled white fingers. Sitting on a plushy couch, she took a long sip of her hot chocolate, feeling the warmth soothe her throat. Eric sat on the stone fireplace and tended to the fire, using a poker to move the logs to burn longer.

The snow had stopped, leading to a morning and afternoon of fresh powder to ski through. After morning lessons, Evelyn successfully completed three runs down the mountain in the afternoon. She was no more than a novice skier, whereas Eric, Catherine, and Dash took different off-piste paths down the mountain.

Ozzy appeared freshly showered and bundled in a thick sweater. Evelyn brightened at the sight of him. Once they were divided into different groups based on their ski level, Evelyn hadn't seen Ozzy all day.

Ozzy winced as he sat but tried to conceal it by looping his arm around her shoulder and a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"So…are we both one step closer to becoming Olympic skiers?" Evelyn asked.

"Not even close," Ozzy said. He shifted his position and winced again.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just fell a couple times. I'm fine."

"Only a couple?"

"I forgot how hard it was to get back up."

Evelyn could relate to that. One of the hardest lessons for her to grasp when she learned how to ski was how to get back up. Using your poles as leverage was key.

"I don't think winters sports are for me," Ozzy said.

"There's always cross-country skiing?" Evelyn said.

Ozzy grimaced. "I think I've had enough of skiing for about five years."

Evelyn shifted her body to face Ozzy. She crossed her legs and raised her right hand to massage the back of his neck. Ozzy leaned into her touch, his eyes closing. She drew her left hand to help massage his traps and shoulders.

"It's a tough life you have Oscar," Evelyn said. "Having to ski against your will on a trip that's been paid for you to attend. Very tough."

Ozzy's eyes flashed open, and he sat up, smirking. "You have no idea."

Ozzy ran his hand up her thigh and rested it on her hip. Evelyn felt a line of heat light up the path his hand travelled, his fingers dipping underneath the hem of her shirt. He kept his gaze on her, and Evelyn felt the sounds around them dull, the sights fade away. All she could see was Ozzy, smiling at her, his hand now rubbing small circles on her lower back.

Evelyn wanted to pull him closer, embrace him, pull him on top of her, just to be closer to him, and to capture this moment and live in it for a little while longer.

"EXCUSE ME?" Catherine's voice boomed. "Can I have everyone's attention?"

Evelyn felt the moment pop like a balloon, and the sounds sharpened around her, the images become vivid and clear again. She hadn't realized that the recreation room had filled in with students on the trip.

"As you all know, it's tradition for us to have a party during the senior ski trip once our chaperon goes to sleep. So, I've taken it as my duty to host the party in my suite tonight."

"Your suite?" Evelyn said.

Catherine ignored her. "Bring your drinks and your fun because it's going to be a long night."

Some people whooped; others clapped. Evelyn's eyes widened, and she jumped up from her seat, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Excuse me, roomie?" Evelyn said. "Don't you think you should have consulted me first?"

"I don't make the rules, Evelyn. Someone had to step up to keep this tradition alive."

"I've never even heard of this tradition," Evelyn said.

Catherine shrugged. "I guess you'd just have to grow up here to know."

Evelyn fought the urge to text Blair for backup. She would know if Catherine was lying or not.

"We're not having a party in our suite."

"We're having the party," Catherine said. "You can choose not to attend."

Evelyn felt Ozzy's hand on the small of her back. "Come on, Catherine. Don't you think you should have at least asked Evelyn first before deciding this?"

Catherine's eyes narrowed, but she couldn't bring herself to even look at Ozzy.

"Well, if she were in the room a half an hour ago, she would have been privy to the conversation."

"You can't kick me out of my own room," Evelyn said.

"I'm not," Catherine said. "This party is tradition and every senior that attends this trip is included. Even you."

Every time Catherine turned her underhanded maneuvering as an act of inclusion or kindness just made Evelyn angrier. It was a passive aggressive tactic; one that was hard to pin down.

"Now if you'll excuse me. I have to prepare," Catherine said. "If I were you, I'd make sure to put my stuff away and valuables in the safe. Things have gotten pretty crazy on this trip in the past."

Catherine smiled angelically and walked away.

Blair dragged her eyeshadow brush in a circular motion along the crease of her eye. She brushed the tones ranging from eggplant to lavender back and forth in a semicircle motion, the colours blending together, to create an alluring smoky eye look. She stopped brushing and inspected her work in the mirror. She frowned, noting the eggplant stuck out too much like eggplants did in the company of other vegetables and continued blending.

Blair heard a slight knock on the door and saw a flurry of golden waves appear in her room.

"Hello? Has anyone seen my best friend?"

Blair swivelled on her chair and saw Serena carrying a box from Magnolia Bakery and a DVD under her arm.

"S!" Blair dropped her brush on her desk and leaped up from her chair to embrace Serena. "It's so good to see you."

"You too," Serena said. "Where have you been? I haven't heard from you since I came back to the city."

"I'm sorry, S. Things have just been crazy lately with school, different clubs, Chuck…"

"Well, you can tell me all about it tonight because I brought some treats and Audrey."

Blair frowned. "That's so sweet of you, S, but I can't tonight."

"Chuck?"

Blair sat back down at her desk, turning away from Serena. "Not exactly."

Serena dropped the bag onto Blair's bed. "If not Chuck, then who could you possibly have plans with that's more important than me?"

Blair shut her eyeshadow palette. "Jack." After a beat she added, "Bass."

"Wait a minute. Did you just say Jack Bass?"

"Yes. We're going on the Opera tonight."

Serena put her hands on her hips. "Clearly I have been gone a long time. How did that happen?"

"It's not what you think!" Blair said.

"Is this about taking him down again?" Serena said. "A continuation of what you tried to accomplish with Savannah?"

"Not a continuation. A new lead."

"Blair. You can't be serious," Serena said. "He totally is going to know what you're up to."

"No," Blair said. "I've got him where I need him to be."

"Which is where? Trapped in your web?"

"Can you please stop judging, Serena! There's a lot at stake tonight, and I don't need you piling on."

Serena's features softened. "I'm sorry. It's just that this isn't like all the schemes you've done before with people like me or Miss Carr even. I remember what Jack sounded like on the phone. He's on another level."

"You don't think I of all people can't be at that level?"

"B, you know there's no one who's close to your level. I'm just really worried about you. I'm worried that he's going to hurt you."

"I can take care of myself, Serena."

"I'm not saying you can't. I'm just worried that his intention is to hurt you."

"Thank you for your concern," Blair said, "But I'm going to do this."

"Fine," Serena said. "I'll just eat these cupcakes and watch Audrey by myself."

"Did you move back home?"

"No. I'm staying in a suite at the Ritz. Mom wanted me to move back in, but with the trial, and the Carter thing, it would just be too weird to move back in."

"The Carter thing?"

Serena rolled her eyes. "Carter was trying to help me find my father and came back to the city to track me down. Long story short, he used Evelyn to get to me, and she hasn't really forgiven me for it. I could be blue in the face apologizing, but she's not interested."

Carter thing? Evelyn never mentioned that little chapter. Basses and their secrets…

"She might have cooled off by now, considering she has a new boyfriend now."

"Maybe," Serena said. "I'd just rather steer clear from there because of the trial honestly."

"Wise choice."

Serena took Blair's hand and squeezed. "If you need anything tonight, please let me know. A random text, and I'm there."

"It won't be necessary, but thank you,"

Serena paused at the door and turned. "Just remember to ask yourself if it's worth it. Not for Chuck's mission, but for you."

Bart leaned against the cold railing in the elevator while his briefcase thudded against the wall. As the elevator rapidly ascended, the pressure of gravity felt stronger than usual. It bore down on his shoulders, his temples, and feet in an attempt to crush him through the tile floor.

After the week Bart had, he wouldn't have protested if he was swallowed then and there into the dark hole of an elevator shaft. Perhaps the newspaper would react kindlier if he died in tragic fashion. Perhaps they'd remember not only the mistakes he made, but the good he did too. Most in memoriams aimed to remember those lost in the fondest of lights.

The pressure ceased as the familiar ping sounded. Bart stepped off the elevator, letting go of that absurd thought and stopped when he saw that he wasn't alone in the penthouse like he thought he would be this weekend.

"Kim?"

She stood and straightened her suit that was tight across her chest and shoulders.

"You didn't get my message, did you?"

"I honestly didn't have a chance to check."

"I figured with the trial and all. Anyway, I was in the city today for an interview, and by the time I was done, it was rush hour, so I thought I'd stick around."

"Evelyn is in Vermont this weekend."

"I know," Kim said. "Talked her through packing last night. Just thought I'd take you up on that offer of staying. I didn't realize no one was going to be here this weekend."

Bart dropped his suitcase by the bar cart. "Everyone was looking for a getaway this weekend."

"Lily too?"

Bart poured two glasses of scotch. "A spa weekend was in order for her."

"And not for you?"

Bart brought over the glasses and handed one to Kim. "I have to get some matters in order. Business portfolios, investments, and such."

Kim accepted the glass, her gaze guarded after that last statement. She took a quick sip.

"Did you get the job?" Bart asked.

"I did."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"Where?"

"TD Bank. Operations."

"That's fantastic, Kim. Really," Bart said. "Does Evelyn know?"

"Not yet. I won't be starting immediately, and I want to get my matters in order first."

"Well, this calls for celebration doesn't it?" Bart said. "Should I cook for you again?"

"Once was more than enough," Kim said. "You know one of the things I surprisingly miss about the city? A good diner."

"Southington didn't measure up?"

"They try, but it's not even close. Is it a diner if there are no Greek souvlaki options alongside their burgers and sandwiches?"

"It's not a very good one."

"Exactly my point."

Bart was about to suggest a few options, but he hesitated. Going out for a bite had become not only a chore for him, but a stressful outing with paparazzi and curious strangers snapping pictures of him.

"Is Westway Diner still open?"

"As far as I know."

"Good. Let's go there," Kim said.

Before Bart could protest, she drained her drink and marched toward the elevator.

Chuck watched from his limo as legions of couples arrived at the Manhattan Opera House. Many wore long belted coats and fluffed scarves, their leather gloves crunching as they produced their tickets to the ushers.

Chuck checked his watch. It was about fifteen minutes from curtain call, and there was no sign of Blair or Jack. Blair was nothing if not punctual, so he had to chalk up their tardiness to his uncle. He checked his phone, Gossip Girl, and messages as he continued to wait, watchful.

Having enough of waiting and with five minutes until curtain call, Chuck opened the door. As he stepped out of the limo where Blair and Jack were walking up the sidewalk, evidently having parked further down the street.

Blair spotted him immediately, and her eyes widened. Jack picked up on his presence

"Chuck," Blair said, her tone sharp. "What are you doing here?"

Alright. So, he got caught. Nothing a little damage control could fix. "If you must know, I have a date."

"Really?" Jack said. "Where is she?"

"I'm meeting her inside," Chuck said in his calm and smooth voice. "It worked best with our schedules."

Blair's eyes narrowed. He could tell she was doing the math she was calculating in her head. Why was he here? Was there a girl? How was this helpful to their plan?

"Convenient," Jack said. He pulled out his phone and held it up against his red ear.

"What are you doing?" Blair asked.

"I had a feeling this would happen," Jack said. He spoke some instructions into the phone and pocketed his phone. "Nephew, I really think you should seek some professional help."

"I don't need help."

"Stalking your ex-girlfriend? Not a good look." His gaze turned to the flashing lights as a cop car double parked beside his limo.

"Right over here, officers," Jack called.

"We got a call about a restraining order violation?"

"Restraining order?" Chuck said.

"I filed it after your last outburst," Jack said.

"I didn't have an outburst."

"Whatever it is you want to call it, it means you can't be more than 20 feet close to me, which you're violating."

"This is ridiculous."

"It's a safety precaution."

"He's right over here officers. I called. This is Chuck Bass. He's in violation of the restraining order."

"I never received any notice of this," Chuck said.

"Hm. It could have been lost in the mail," Jack said. "You know how unreliable the mail can be."

"Chuck Bass?" The one officer said. "We'll have to ask you some questions."

"I don't have time for that," Chuck snarled.

The other officer approached. "I think you do since it wasn't a question. Come with us."

After a beat, Chuck dragged his feet toward the officers where they pulled up the paperwork.

"Do you need anything from me, officers?" Jack said.

"No. You're free to move along."

"Good," Blair said. "I would hate to be late."

Normally, Chuck would notice that Blair's tart remark was a ruse, but there was real annoyance in her voice. It was nothing she had to put on.

"Chuck Bass, you'll have to come with us," one of the officers said.

"Why?"

"Because you're under arrest for violating the terms of your restraining order."

"This is ridiculous," Chuck said. "I didn't even know there was a restraining order against me!"

"Well, you do now."

Chuck felt the cold silver cuffs clip around his wrists, and as before he ducked his head into the back of the police cruiser, he saw Jack looking at him as he opened the door to Blair. With a satisfied smirk on his face, Jack waved.

Spotted: C getting cuffed and stuffed in front of the Manhattan Opera House. I guess it's true when they say like father, like son…

As soon as Ms. Prudence said goodnight for the final check-in of the night, Catherine swung her legs off her bed and picked up the phone.

"Coast is clear. Once you've checked-in with Ms. Prudence, come on over to our room. Eighth floor. Room 832."

Evelyn had resigned herself to the inevitable party during dinner when it was all anyone could talk about. Some detailed the bottles of liquor they sneaked in. Others shared their drugs of choice that evening. There was nothing she could do but pack away all of her valuables in the safe and stew from the couch.

Catherine consulted her handwritten list of all the room numbers on the hotel's notepad.

"Have you checked-in? Is that her? Okay. We're ready. Come on up when you're done."

Catherine hung up and continued dialling. Evelyn got up in a huff and checked to make sure all of her things were packed away. She zipped up her luggage and stored it upright in the front closet. She put away all of her toiletries that she used earlier in the bathroom. Her bed remained untouched.

Once off the phone, Catherine set-up a set of speakers on the desk. Then, she shed her white robe to reveal a sequined dress. She opened her luggage and started taking out bottles of liquor. She shifted her clothes around to reveal more and more bottles, as if she were a secret agent revealing secret compartments in her luggage.

"No wonder you couldn't carry your luggage," Evelyn said.

Catherine smirked. "I'm not known to travel light."

The first knock sounded at the door.

"Could you get that?"

"This is your party, isn't it?"

Catherine rolled her eyes and pushed past her. The first round of attendees arrived. Four twelfth grade girls whose rooms were on either side of Evelyn and Catherine's room stood in their dresses, their arms cradling bottles of champagne.

"Come on in, ladies!" Catherine said. Some carried bottles of prosecco, others carried clutches filled with cartons of cigarettes.

The hotel room was spacious with two queen beds with a seating area and small kitchenette. The door to their patio cleared the other end of the hotel room, just past Catherine's bed.

Catherine moved back to her bed where a long line of bottles sank in her bed. She motioned to the bottles and asked, "Can I get anyone a drink?"

Evelyn watched as they all chose their drinks of choice and moved everything to the kitchenette to claim it as a designated bar area.

"We need ice," Catherine said. "Evelyn, can you get us some ice?"

Evelyn looked up from her phone and scrolled through her non-existent messages. "Sorry. I have to take this."

Party's started here. You coming soon?

Evelyn didn't want to sound too needy, but the last thing she wanted was to be stuck in her room at a party she didn't want to have. With more classmates arriving at the door, Evelyn felt like they were interlopers invading her territory.

Still waiting for check-in.

Evelyn's heart sank as another knock sounded at the door.

"Fine," Catherine said. "I'll go get some myself."

Catherine picked up the bucket and marched to the door. She opened it revealing more twelfth grade boys she didn't know well. No signs of Eric yet either. Catherine held the door open for the guests and told them about the setup.

Can she hurry up?

Ms. Prudence never rushs through her responsibilities. You ok?

I'm ok. I just really don't want to be a part of this tonight.

Evelyn noticed a couple of the boys wore their knapsacks, bottles clanging in their bags.

Want to meetup in the lobby? We can do something else.

PLEASE.

I'll text you when we're checked in.

Evelyn stood, picked up her clutch with her room key and left. She sped to the elevator where Catherine stood, waiting.

"I thought you were getting ice?" Evelyn said.

"Ice machine isn't working on this floor. I'm going to check the concierge desk. Already partied out?"

Evelyn crossed her arms across her chest. "No. I have my own plans."

The elevator pinged, and the doors glided open. Catherine stepped on to the elevator and hit the G button with a huff.

As they began their descent, the shaft shuttered, and the lights in the elevator flickered. Both girls shrieked and grabbed onto the railings for stability until the shaft eventually stopped.

"Oh my God," Catherine said, her legs shaking. "What just happened?"

Evelyn hit a couple buttons, and none of them lit up. "I think we're stuck."

The red curtains dropped, and the lights brightened for intermission. Voices rumbled and seats squeaked as people shuffled down the aisles and to the exits. Blair, always ready to mingle and pick up another drink at the bar, remained seated in their box.

"I don't know about you, but I need a drink after that," Jack said.

"I'm fine," Blair said.

"You don't seem fine," Jack said. "I know that everyone reacts differently to the opera, but I can't say I expected it to anger you of all people."

"I'm sorry," Blair said. "It's not the show's fault. The show is beautiful."

"That's not the word I'd use, but I guess art is a matter of perspective."

All throughout the first half of the show, Blair could barely focus and instead stewed at Chuck's stunt. What was he thinking showing up here like that? He was close to blowing everything she was working hard to accomplish for his benefit.

"It sure is," Blair said.

Perspective. That's what she needed in this moment. She needed to not let her emotions cloud her judgement or opportunity at hand. Instead, she could use them to bring Jack closer.

"Thank you for what you did earlier," Blair said. "With Chuck."

Jack kept a scrupulous gaze on her. "I had a feeling it would be necessary, and I didn't think you'd file one."

The sentence was crafted carefully, full of another meaning entirely. What Jack was really saying was: I still think you might be with Chuck, and this restraining order is a test to see if that's true.

Blair locked eyes with Jack and batted her lashes in an attempt to look as helpless and vulnerable as she could. "You're right. I didn't file one when you suggested it. I just…really didn't think it would be necessary. I don't know anyone other than celebrities who've done that before."

"You know celebrities?"

Blair scoffed. The only reason she knew any celebrities was because of Cyrus. "Don't you?"

"I did go on a date with Miranda Kerr once," Jack said.

Blair rolled her eyes.

"It's true," Jack said.

"If it was only one date, then it clearly didn't go as well as you claim," Blair said.

"How could you be so sure?"

"Women's intuition."

"We had a good time. She just happened to meet Orlando Bloom around that week too."

"Tough competition," Blair said. "Anyway, thank you… for looking out for me."

Jack looked across the balcony, his gaze pensive. "Something told me that if I asked, you would have declined my help."

"You're probably right about that."

"People like Chuck don't change, Blair. I trust you're smart enough to realize that you can't change him."

"I never tried to change him," Blair said. "I just realized I couldn't accept him."

Jack looked at her again, probing. "Remember that if he tries to make up with you again."

"Is this…coming from your own experience?"

Jack didn't answer immediately. "Something like that."

The intermission warning sounded to remind people to return to their seats.

"Are you sure you don't need anything before intermission ends?"

"No," Jack said. "I doubt there's anything that'll keep me awake throughout the second half."

"Well, if you need a reason to stay up, remember that this an opera about Anne Boleyn, and her head is going to get chopped off by the end of it."

"Suddenly it gets interesting," Jack said.

"Art's all about perspective."

They exchanged a glance and Blair wondered if anything she had said to Jack just now resonated. She took fragments of the truth and turned them to curry sympathy, but it turned out that it led her to exchanging vulnerability between the two of them. Blair wasn't sure if this was a sign of progress or a danger sign.

The lights began to dim, and the crowd slowly shushed. As the curtains began to rise once again, Blair felt Jack's warm hand cover hers.

The game was still on.

Bart's gaze flickered to a dining young couple across the aisle. The couple wore their business suits, grabbing a quick bite after working late, and paid no attention to him. A quick flash from their direction caught his eye, a flash from a camera perhaps, yet all he saw was the glint of their silver wear as they carved into their meals.

No one recognized him at the diner. No whispers. No cameras flashing. Either the diners didn't recognize him, or they made a good show of pretending not to recognize him.

"So," Kim said. "How's the trial?"

"Monotonous," Bart said. "I'd rather not bore you with the details."

"Oh, you wouldn't be boring me," Kim said. "I've been watching Law and Order for years."

Bart chewed his tender chicken souvlaki a little longer than usual. "Real court lasts longer than forty-five minutes."

"Give me the highlights. What happened this week?"

"More evidence was brought up and discussed."

"Any of it…concern you?"

Bart took a long time to chew his chicken. "All I know is that we're moving on to testimonies next week."

If Kim had any more questions about the trial, she was wise enough to leave it at that.

"How's Chuck doing?"

"I haven't received any calls yet, so I can assume he's fine."

"Didn't he take the term off from school?" Kim asked.

"Yes," Bart sighed.

"Hm. I didn't take him as the Eat, Pray, Love type."

"He isn't."

"I hope this semester off won't be permanent."

"It won't."

If Bart had any say in the matter, it won't be. Not that he'd ever want to, but if necessary, he would consider cutting off Chuck financially, so he would go back to school. As stubborn as Chuck was, Bart doubted he would go to this length, especially if Blair Waldorf was still in the picture.

"I know you're busy with the trial and all, and now that I'm moving to the city, I could keep up with Chuck and give you updates."

"That won't be necessary," Bart said. "Besides, Chuck isn't receptive to spending time with anyone these days."

"I can be persuasive," Kim said.

Kim's version of persuasion was often guilt and beratement. Two methods that had little to no effect on Chuck.

"Give it your best shot," Bart said. "So, tell me more about this new job of yours."

The ate and chatted about lighter topics, and Bart looked his shoulder every so often for a glance, a stare, or a flash. It was a reflex now, one that wasn't satisfied that each time he looked over his shoulder, his assumptions of how others were reacting to him weren't validated.

As they ate their baklava dessert, Bart looked over his shoulder, certain that he saw a flash of a camera outside the nearest window.

"You're really getting paranoid these days," Kim said.

"Cameras have been following me for the past couple months now," Bart said. "It's habit now."

"I can't even imagine," Kim said, pushing her syrupy plate away.

The truth was, he didn't wish it on Kim or even someone he really disliked. It was draining to feel this alert, this paranoid about making the wrong move, the wrong expression to be taken out of context.

Bart fished his vibrating phone from his breast pocket. He frowned at a number he didn't recognize and answered.

"Hello?"

There was a long pause. It was long enough that Bart had to repeat himself. "Hello?"

"Dad," the voice drawled with a slight crack. "It's me."

Bart inhaled sharply. He knew that the best way to know why Chuck was calling was to ask where he was. That answered enough of his questions.

"Where are you?"

"I'm in jail."

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Evelyn pressed the intercom button and released after speaking.

The emergency lights on the elevator shone from behind the chrome railings to ceiling like backlights on a stage. Evelyn looked at mirrored panels on the walls at her reflection. Behind her, Catherine stood, leaning on the railing, hugging the ice bucket like a life preserver.

"I can't believe this is happening," Catherine said. "Best party of the year, and I'm stuck in an elevator."

"I'm not thrilled about this either," Evelyn said.

Evelyn pressed the intercom button a couple more times. After releasing on her last attempt, the first sounds of life, thick static sparks sounded through the speaker.

"Hello?" A scratchy voice crackled through the intercom.

Evelyn pressed the button again. "Hello!"

"We received a notification that there was a problem with the elevator?"

"Yes. My name is Evelyn Bass, and I'm stuck in the elevator in the main lodge."

"Are you alone?"

"No," Evelyn said. "I'm with my roommate Catherine Baizen."

"Okay. Just hang tight ladies. We're sending someone up to help."

"How long is it going to take?" Catherine called from her corner.

"I can't say," the man said. "We'll try to rectify this as soon as possible. Just hang tight."

The static sound cut out and sucked all the air out of the elevator shaft. Evelyn felt her ears start to ring in the way they did when they weren't used to having no background sound, no heaters humming, nothing.

Evelyn fished out her phone from her pocket to check her signal. She knew the elevator was thick meal and signal while in operation was spotty at best. One bar.

Stuck in the elevator with Catherine. Consider this an SOS flare signal.

As Evelyn pressed send, she watched the message hang in limbo, the message not reading delivered.

Evelyn pocketed her phone and said, "This sucks."

"Finally, something we agree on," Catherine said.

Evelyn folded her arms across her chest. She noticed that Catherine didn't reach for her phone which probably meant she left it in their room. For the first time, Catherine was weaponless.

They stood in silence for many moments. After Catherine's birthday, neither had spoken a word to the other. The bridge of their relationship wasn't just filled with water but was submerged.

"How long do you think this is going to take?" Evelyn said.

"With my luck, it could be all night," Catherine said.

"My luck's no better," Evelyn said.

"Then we're really screwed," Catherine said.

Evelyn reflecting on the party. Leave this open to fill in after editing last chapter.

A half an hour passed in silence. Evelyn eventually squatted on the floor, ready to give her back and legs a rest. It was fitting really to be stuck with Catherine of all people. She'd felt stuck with her for the past couple years. Every party seemed to go sour when they were around each other. Why would now be any different?

But something nagged at Evelyn. The last party was Catherine's birthday, and bringing in the Buckley's to ruin her party wasn't Evelyn's proudest moment.

"I'm sorry for bringing the Buckley's to your birthday party," Evelyn said. "I just was trying to make a point."

Catherine starred at her empty ice bucket.

"I'm just…tired of fighting and thought that would end this vendetta you have against me for once and for all."

"I don't have a vendetta against you."

"Really? Then what would you call it?"

"You were just a consistent obstacle in my way," Catherine said.

"Did you ever think to ask me to move aside?" Evelyn said. "It would have been a lot cleaner."

"Like you'd move if I did."

"I might've depending on what it was you wanted."

"Our interests intersected too many times for that."

Evelyn leaned back on the cool mirror and sighed. "So, this back-and-forth fighting will just continue until graduation?"

Catherine didn't answer.

"Because ever since my dad started his trial, I've had to put a lot of things in perspective. Things that used to matter a lot to me, suddenly didn't anymore. Being Queen? Not so important. Fighting over trivial grievances? Also not important."

"What is important to you now?"

"Family. Friends. People I can count on and trust the most. Getting into college. Keeping my GPA up. Important stuff."

"And Ozzy?"

"He's one of the people I trust the most," Evelyn said. He was his own category really, but not one she needed to explain or justify to Catherine. If Evelyn were talking to a friend, she'd admit that he might be the person she trusted most right now.

She checked her phone to see if he received her message. The message read: not delivered.

Her heart didn't sink or grow sad at the thought another potential missed connection between the two of them. He always found her. She found him. They were magnets of different charges always gravitating towards each other.

"He loves you, you know," Catherine said. "Always has."

Evelyn's baser instincts wanted to refute this claim on the basis that such a confession wasn't coming from Ozzy himself. In the past, such a claim would surprise her, put her on defence. But this claim wasn't a surprise. She didn't feel bashful or want to deny it to protect her own feelings.

"I know."

She knew it. She knew Ozzy loved her. And in that moment, she realized not that she loved him, she had known that for a long time, but that she wanted him. While Evelyn had loved many people in her life, her want for Ozzy was singular, purposeful.

The static sounded on the speaker. "Hello, ladies?"

"We're still here!" Evelyn said scrambling to her feet.

"We have someone working on the elevator as we speak, so it should be ready shortly."

"Thank you."

The elevator shuttered, and the lights flickered on.

"Thank God!" Catherine exhaled. "We're going to make it!"

The numbers light up like flashing lights on the Vegas strip, and settled when one glowing light remained, illuminating the letter G.

Both girls squealed and realizing their shared joy, they didn't know how to share it. Catherine offered a hand, and Evelyn slapped it in a clumsy high five.

The elevator levelled off on the ground floor where the doors glided open. A repair man kneeled at the elevator button, popping in the control panel back into place.

"Come on out, ladies," The repair man said.

Catherine jumped off the elevator, and Evelyn followed after. Once on the solid, polished tile, Evelyn looked up and faced another thing that normally surprised her but didn't. Standing, waiting for her, was Ozzy. He leaned on the nearest pillar, his lips curled into a concerned frown, as he looked around for her.

Once his eyes met hers, his shoulders relaxed. Evelyn ran into his arms and held him tight.

"I'm never trusting an elevator again," Evelyn said.

"That's going to be really hard considering you use one every day to leave and return to your home."

Evelyn kissed him.

"What was that for?"

"Near death experiences do that to you."

"You were trapped in an elevator."

"I could have died. You know, lack of air and asphyxiation."

"Something tells me you wouldn't have been the one soaking up all the air in the elevator to make that happen. Seriously, you okay?"

Evelyn saw the concierge return Catherine's bucket filled with ice. She started for the elevator.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Catherine, are you seriously going back on the elevator?"

"Well, I'm not walking up eight flights of stairs," Catherine said. "Besides, I have a party to host."

"She wastes no time facing her fears," Evelyn said.

Ozzy starred at her.

"What?"

"Nothing, that just…sounded like a compliment."

"And?"

"Directed to Catherine."

"Well, it's true. Did you see, she walked right back on that elevator without flinching."

"Yeah, she did," Ozzy said. "Are you ready to go back on the elevator?"

"No," Evelyn said. "I want to stay here."

Ozzy smiled and wrapped his arm around her waist, and they walked away together.

Blair felt the sting of cold pinch her face as she left the opera house that evening. The wintery air piece through her coat, through her nylon pantyhose, and through her leather gloves with little mercy. Blair pocketed her leather gloved hands, and her amble stroll quickened to the car.

"Now I really need a drink after that," Jack said, rubbing his hand over his face.

"If you thought that finale was too dull, then you don't have a pulse," Blair said.

They neared Jack's waiting car. Blair waited for Jack to open the door. His gloved hand remained in his pockets.

"I may not have an artistic pulse," Jack said. "But I definitely still have a pulse."

"Really? I could hardly tell."

Jack's breathes puffed into plumes of smoke. "Why don't you feel it and find out?"

His eyes quirked up at his request. A challenge.

Blair drew her hand from her own pocket and stroked his own arm out of his pocket. She pulled back his glove and felt for the pulse on his wrist. She felt it, thumping at the pace of a jogger.

"Nope. Still nothing."

Jack opened the door. Blair slide across the buttery seats, her skin prickling as the heat warmed her exposed skin.

Jack rubbed his hands together. His cheeks were pink from the cold, his goatee and mustache shapely and smooth.

"I don't know about you, but I could sure use a drink to warm up. What do you say?"

Another challenge. Blair made every effort to maintain eye contact with him, to meet his curious gaze, a gaze that dared her to say. Jack was pushing, pushing to see where the boundaries were, and where they could be violated.

Normally, Blair would have declined. She wouldn't have even attended the opera show either, but she knew there was only one right answer to his question.

"I could use a drink too," Blair said, her voice steady, her gaze unwavering.

Jack's eyes drifted to her lips. He then turned his attention to the driver.

"To the Palace, Peter."

Blair reached into her purse for her phone. She did it was a casualness of someone checking their messages after leaving a show, as if she'd have an inbox full of waiting messages that were urgent and needed attention.

She had no waiting messages. Instead, she composed one to Serena, aware that another pair of eyes was now watching her every move.

Going to the Palace. Wait up for me. x B

Blair pocketed her phone and turned her gaze to Jack. He too was scrolling through his phone, checking his inbox of messages. Blair set her gloved hand on his thigh and ran it forward toward his knee. Then, she left it there and waited.

"How could this have happened?" Kim said as they waited in the lobby of the police station. She paced in front of him, her fist clutching onto her purse tight.

Bart sat back on the bench with the back of his head leaning against the wall. Upon arrival, he filled out all the paperwork for Chuck's release, and now they waited.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"It's better than being oblivious," Kim said. "How long does it take to find the holding cell?"

"They're short staffed," Bart said.

The truth was, he was used to waiting. With his experiences both past and present with the justice system, he'd come to understand that no matter who you were, or what your reason for being involved with the justice system, it required a lot of waiting.

"How could you have let this happen?"

Bart's eyes shot up to his hairline. "Me? And what exactly do I have to do with this?"

"You're his parent."

"He's eighteen. Chuck can legally do whatever he wants."

"That doesn't mean he should," Kim said. "He may be eighteen, but he has no idea what he's doing. When I was eighteen, I had no idea what I was doing!"

The wooden bench creaked as Bart crossed one leg over the other. "And could you have been stopped?"

"Yes actually," Kim said. "I listened to reason."

"Of course, you did," Bart said. "Too bad more kids weren't like you."

Kim was ready to rebuke his sarcastic reply until she saw Chuck strolling toward them ahead of on an officer. He was dressed in a suit, ready for a night on town. His shoulders were tense, a scowl on his face.

"You're free to go," The officer said, as he uncuffed Chuck.

"Thank you, officer," Kim said. "Have a good night."

Chuck rubbed his wrists and looked between Kim and Bart.

Bart stood and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "The car's waiting up front."

The walk to the car was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Chuck stewed, Bart annoyed, and Kim frustrated that the two men she was with were pretending that this wasn't happening. Once inside the car, Kim fiddled with her gloves until she couldn't take the silence anymore. She signaled to Bart to say something.

"So…do I want to know how you got a restraining order against my brother?"

"Probably not."

"Okay."

Kim gave him a that's the best you can do? look.

"What happened, Chuck?" Kim said.

"Nothing. It was all a misunderstanding."

The best comedies were always based on a misunderstanding. Jack was never interested in comedy.

"You're all dressed up," Kim said. "Where you were off to this evening?"

"The opera."

"Really? I didn't know you were interested in that."

Bart kept his gaze neutral. He knew his son had little to no interest in the arts much less the opera. If Bart could guess, it probably had something to do with Blair Waldorf.

"I'm surprised you didn't call Blair."

"We're not together anymore."

The wheels turned in Bart's head. "Was Blair attending the opera this evening?"

"Perhaps."

"With someone else?"

Chuck looked out the window. There it was. Jealousy. He'd seen that look enough times to know that Chuck was feeling threated.

"I see."

"If you aren't together anymore, it's best if you give her some space."

"I know that," Chuck spat. "I'm not stalking her. I didn't even know Jack filed this restraining order. He set me up."

Bart felt the urge as a parent to step in, to stop Chuck like he would from putting his hand on a stovetop burner.

"If this is about what you told me about before with my brother, I can help."

"I don't need your help," Chuck said. "I told you, I'm going to do this myself."

"I respect that, but I know my brother better than you do."

"Don't you have enough problems keeping yourself out of jail?"

"Chuck," Kim warned.

"It's true," Chuck said. "It's only a matter of time."

"No, it's not," Kim said. "Now apologize to your father. He's only trying to help you."

Chuck's eyes narrowed. "Sorry."

The word sputtered out of his son like a car that refused to ignite. Bart didn't expect anything more from him in that moment. He didn't expect much from him at all.

The car rolled to a stop outside Chuck's building. Chuck paused, his hand on the door handle.

"Thank you. For answering my call."

Regardless of how tenuous their relationship could be, Chuck couldn't find a reason, or example, to disprove that fact. When Chuck was in trouble, Bart was always there to pull out the safety net to brace the impact of his fall.

"Anytime," Bart said.

Light flakes of snow sprinkled along the paths that lead to the outdoor spa. Evelyn stood by the window in the recreation room; its edges crystalized with frost. She tugged the sleeves of her sweater to cover her knuckles against the cold that radiated from the window.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Ozzy said coming up and wrapping his arms around her.

"From this side of the window, yes," Evelyn said.

She leaned into him and turned her head to face him, lips parted. Ozzy leaned forward and kissed her.

Evelyn felt no desire to return to the party upstairs. She'd been to one too many of them, and no matter how crazy, or how legendary it got, she didn't worry that she was missing out on anything. What she would regret was spending uninterrupted time with Ozzy.

"Fire's stoked if you need to warm up," Ozzy said.

Evelyn fanned her hands near the fire and rubbed them for warmth. Ozzy poked the logs, his brown eyes reflecting the flickering flames. The yellow flames illuminated his face, serious in concentration.

Satisfied with her warmup, Evelyn felt an urge to be close to Ozzy, so she draped herself across his lap.

"Don't you think we're a little too close to the fire?"

Evelyn ran a hand through his hair. "I'd prefer us to be closer."

Ozzy sat up straighter as she kissed him. His grip around her waist tightened, his fingers finding their way under her sweater, his skin warm against hers. Evelyn's hand knotted in his hair as Ozzy's tongue slipped into her mouth. With each successive kiss, Evelyn felt heat pulse up her thighs.

"So much better than last time," Ozzy said.

"What do you mean?"

"Last ski trip. This is way better than last time."

"Well, I did get trapped in an elevator this time," Evelyn said.

"I don't mean to downplay the elevator episode, but I meant for us."

Evelyn caressed his cheek. This time was different. They were different. And there wasn't anyone that was allowed as a divider between the two of them this time.

But that was enough dwelling on past memories. Evelyn was now interested in making new ones.

"I couldn't agree more," Evelyn said.

Ozzy left feathery kisses along her throat and to her collarbone. One of his hands pressed into the small of her back, the other mingled around the button to her pants. Evelyn felt another wave of heat pulse up her thighs, and it wasn't from the nearby fire.

"Ozzy."

He pulled away; his cheeks flushed. "Yeah?"

"I'm ready."

Ozzy didn't immediately reply. He waited for further explanation, an assurance that he wasn't misinterpreting her meaning.

"You sure?"

Not one faint whimper of doubt rang from the far-off crevices of her mind. No worry or fear held her back. She was more than ready to explore the carnal pleasures the unknown shrouded for so long.

She ran her finger along his jaw, down his throat, over his Adam's apple, and rested in the middle of his chest. Then, she leaned forward, her nose grazing his, her breath hot against his lips, and responded with a kiss.

Blair sat at the bar in Jack's suite, trying to appear impressed with his drink mixing abilities. Jack shook his pewter shaker, the ice clinking together, and poured the martini. He dropped a couple olives in the glass and offered it to Blair.

"Shaken, not stirred," Jack said.

Since they arrived, Blair had been calculating different ways she could explore Jack's apartment without him getting suspicious. Showing casual interest in a painting was one thing, but she couldn't rifle through his drawers in front of him.

Blair pinched the stem of the glass and set the palm of the glass in her other hand. She walked with a casual gait from the bar to the living area, eager to explore. She walked around the room in the same way she would if she visited a friend's place for the first time. She'd walk into the new space, and observe, not touch, like she was in a museum. She'd compliment one good thing that didn't offend her and sit on the couch for a visit.

But this was no ordinary visit. She needed to be thorough in her search without appearing so.

Blair's eyes zeroed in on the entertainment system, with two small bookshelves framing each side of it. She checked for any personal touches but found nothing but nick knacks. The shelves didn't even feature a coffee book. She half expected an allusion to his life in Australia but found nothing. The only personal item that stood out to Blair was a very old bottle of scotch on the top shelf.

"Do you always keep your collector's items out of reach?" Blair said.

Jack cupped the bowl of his martini glass in his hand. He sat on the couch, his legs sprawled.

"Don't you?"

"Yes. Except for consumable items," Blair said, motioning to the bottle.

Jack smirked. "That bottle is not to be consumed."

"Why not?"

"It's almost twenty years old," Jack said. "It's lost its punch."

"Then why keep it?"

"Sentimental reasons."

"You? Sentimental?"

"Seldomly."

Blair wandered away from the bookcase and turned to face Jack. Behind him, was a large mirror with a decorative table, bare. There wasn't much to the room to explore. No chest of personal belongings, no work documents lying in piles, not one stich of clothing draped on a chair. How could she investigate when there was nothing to investigate?

Blair knew it would be rude to inspect anymore, so she took a seat beside Jack.

"I'd like to propose a toast," Jack said. "To…great minds who think alike."

Blair's eyes watered as she took a drink. She didn't expect it to be so strong, and she had to suppress the urge to cough.

Jack set down his drink and rested his arm behind her, close to the back of her neck.

"Are you always this curious when visiting someone's place for the first time?"

"Aren't you?"

"Not usually."

"Well, maybe you should be. This suite is beautiful. Did you renovate?"

"The suites were in dire need of an update," Jack said.

"Well, you did a great job, really," Blair said.

Jack hand fell on her shoulder. Blair did her best to seem indifferent to the move, and she hoped she was successful. Jack started to lean forward, and Blair brought her drink to her lips.

"Is this an apartment style suite?"

"Yes. The kitchenette is through that door, and the bedroom is through that one," Jack said pointing to the double doors behind her.

"Do you plan to live here permanently?"

"No, but it will be my got to place to crash."

"We all need those."

Jack started closing in again but was interrupted with a persistent knock on the door.

"I'll be right back," Jack said.

Blair leaped to her feet with her martini glass in her hand. She opened the door to the bedroom and moved to the bedside table. She remembered Maya's account of noticing a photograph, face down, and Blair wanted to track down what that could be about.

Blair set down her drink and opened the drawer. She shuffled loose papers, ear buds, and remotes out of the way until she felt a picture frame under her fingertips. The frame was no bigger than a four by six photo. When she turned it over, her eyes squinted at a couple, embracing. She noticed a younger looking Jack, embracing a woman she couldn't recognize.

Blair flipped the frame over, unscrewed the backing and took out the picture for further inspection. There was an inscription on the back, in blue smudged ink.

Staten Island 1994.

Blair flipped over the picture again, her eyes widening. She knew those eyes, smile, and chestnut hair.

It was a picture of Jack with Misty.

Bart loosened his tie as he stepped off the elevator to the penthouse. It had been a long evening, a long week, and all Bart wanted to do was go to bed. He hung his overcoat in the closet and turned to Kim, with an empty hanger in hand.

Kim shimmied out of her puffy coat. Bart expected her to start grilling him on the ride home about his parenting decisions and rehashing all of his faults, but she was uncharacteristically silent.

"Well, Kim," Bart said. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

"It's been a long day."

"And longer evening," Bart said.

Kim made no movements to the guest room. She crossed her arms across her chest.

"Are you concerned?"

"About what?"

"Chuck."

"Chuck's an adult now. He legally can do as he pleases, and unfortunately that means I have to stand back and watch him fall occasionally."

"I understand that. Regardless of that, are you worried about him? About the decisions he's making?"

Bart considered the question for a few moments. "I am not so much concerned about him. Chuck's always been very self-sufficient."

"And his current decisions that have landed him in jail?"

"They are avoidable, but as you could tell, he won't listen to me. He'll just have to learn the hard way."

"Wow," Kim said.

"Wow, what?"

"I don't know if I could follow through with that," Kim said. "It's hard enough living far away from Evelyn, but to make big life altering decisions like dropping out of school and not doing something about it? I couldn't stand by and watch."

"Different kids, different approaches."

"I guess," Kim said. "So, you're just going to let him go on and do whatever he was doing after tonight?"

"Are you suggesting there's another way?"

'Well, yes," Kim said. "There's always another way."

"Funny, Kim. I never pegged you as an optimist."

"We both know I'm not, but there's got to be a way to get Chuck to see the error in his ways. Right? I mean, what pursuit could possibly be worth a criminal record?"

Bart's eyes found the floor. He put his hands in his pockets. "Chuck's got this idea in his head that he wants to get my brother fired as CEO of Bass Industries."

"Why would he be interested in that?"

"Legacy," Bart said. "Now that my brother is running the company, the succession plan is no longer in effect. I didn't know if Chuck or Evelyn would be interested in running Bass Industries. Never counted on it. If anything, I thought it would be a platform to help them get to wherever they dreamed of going. But Chuck now has shown interest in Bass Industries and is determined to restore the legacy of Bass Industries to remain in our family. Salvage our family name so to speak."

"Oh," Kim said. "Do you think he can succeed?"

Bart took a couple beats before responding. "It's possible, but it will be difficult."

After a few moments, Kim said. "I never liked Jack."

"I remember."

Kim rubbed her hands together. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Not if the person refuses to accept help."

Kim smirked. "I wonder where he learned that from."

"I have no idea what you mean," Bart said and started walking towards his bedroom. "If you need anything, I trust you know where everything is?"

Kim nodded. "Good night, Bart."

"Good night, Kim."

Thankful that her dress had pockets, Blair slipped the picture between the folds of her dress and put everything back into the drawer. Although she couldn't remember how everything was placed in the drawer exactly, she shuffled the cords together and shut the drawer when something else caught her eye.

Between the bed and the side table was a scrap of paper. Blair bent down and picked it up. The one side was torn on an angle. It was a letterhead with the words 'Black Cube' on the top of the paper. Blair folded it up and slipped it into her pocket.

Blair picked up her drink. Before she could begin to process what she uncovered, she heard Jack at the door.

"What are you doing in here?"

Blair turned, her grip steady on her drink. Jack's eyes were full of suspicion, ready to throw accusations her way.

"Further inspecting my place?" Jack furthered, rounding the bed to her.

"You caught me," Blair said. "I just needed to know, does this suite have a whirlpool spa? If it doesn't, then you cut a significant corner with your renovation."

Jack smirked, accepting her answer.

"Who was at the door?"

Jack took a step closer to her, his hand resting on her hip. "Nobody important."

"Really? No business calls this late are ever good."

Jack's gaze fell to her lips. "Who said it was business?"

"With how busy you say you are, I thought it was a natural assumption."

Jack raised his cold hand to cup her cheek. "What if I said it was pleasure?"

Blair rubbed her lips together. "Then I'd be intrigued."

He brushed his thumb over her lips. "I'm sure you've heard this many times before. You have beautiful eyes. They're…full of mystery."

Blair smirked. "I haven't heard that last part before."

"Well, it's true, but only noticed to those who pay attention."

Jack leaned forward and kissed her. His lips were cold, and his tongue slithered out of his mouth and poked her lips, demanding entry.

Blair, having kissed other men while playing a game with Chuck, typically never feared the overeager kisser. But this was different. Jack was challenging her yet again to see how far she would go.

When Blair didn't open her mouth to him, he pulled away. His hand ran down the back of her spine causing an involuntary shiver. Blair kept her hands flat on his chest and blinked her doe eyes up at him.

"You never said what was at the door," Blair said. It was the only thing she could think of to stall.

"After," Jack said. He dove forward, his lips crashing into hers, his hands groping her body. He pushed her on the bed, his one hand pinning her down at the waist, the other cradling her body around the shoulders. Blair felt a gasp catch in her throat.

If this were still a game between Chuck and herself, she would have pushed Jack off immediately. She would have scolded him regardless if Chuck showed up as the angry boyfriend or not. But the stakes were raised. This game she was playing with Jack was escalating quickly.

Jack's hand cupped and squeezed her breast before falling over the pleats of her dress in search of skin underneath. Jack was moving fast, too fast.

When Jack tore his lips away from hers, Blair started to catch her breath. Could she do this? She knew she would do anything for Chuck…but this…this was beyond help. With Jack's slimy hands over her, she was feeling less and less in control of the game.

Suddenly, Chuck's voice entered her head. This is why I can't trust you. You always have your own agenda. If we're in this together, we need to be a team and put everything on the table.

Blair watched Jack's head disappear underneath the pleats of her overturned skirt.

"Wait," Blair panted.

Jack paused, his gaze questioning, waiting for her to admit defeat.

"I have a surprise for you," Blair said.

"Surprise?"

Blair sat up. She reached for her purse and excused herself to the bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, Blair whipped out her phone and typed furiously.

911. NOW

Blair pocketed her phone and looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed. Her hair dishevelled. The straps of her dress were crooked. Her eyes began to sting as her lips turned to a frown.

"Blair? Is everything okay in there?"

Blair unzipped her dress and let it fall to her feet. She wore a crimson negligee with garters attached. She swallowed the lump in her throat and held her clutch behind her form.

Blair swung the door open and leaned her arm against the frame.

"And here I thought I scared you off," Jack said, a look of genuine surprise overtaking his face.

"Not quite," Blair said and sashayed toward him.

"Do you like?"

Jack ran his hands up her pale thighs. "Marvelous."

Blair remained standing. She slowly undid his tie, slowly realizing that no matter how much time she tried to waste, she was completely trapped. There was only one way forward now.

Just when Blair was a breath away from Jack's lips again, his phone rang.

"Ignore it," Jack said.

The phone kept ringing. And ringing. Slowly, Blair was losing time and leverage she had, with Jack's arms coiling around her frame once again.

Jack groaned after the fourth ring and excused himself. Blair stepped to the side of the bed and toward the bathroom where she heard her phone buzz on the floor. Blair picked up her dress and found the phone between the pleats.

Your signal has been heard and answered. Meet me at my suite once Jack is off the phone.

Jack slammed the phone down. "Unbelievable," He huffed.

Blair reappeared in the bedroom. "What is it?"

Jack picked up his suit jacket from the floor.

"There was a break in at Bass Industries. I need to go there right away," Jack said.

"Would you like me to come with you?"

"I'd rather you didn't," Jack said. "Get your clothes on. It's time to go."

Blair slipped on her dress and picked up and followed Jack out of the elevator. He didn't even wait to take it with her, offer her to take the first one, or go down together. Once his suite door was closed, he was a stranger to her.

Blair never felt so relieved to feel the cold air touch her face outside. Jack's limo pulled away without so much as a wave. Blair would normally be appalled by such rudeness, but she found herself collapsing against the nearest lamp post.

She pulled out her phone and sent a quick ETA text to Serena. Then, she raised her hand in a wave, and hailed a cab.

Evelyn thought she knew what to expect before her first time. Some discomfort and pain. Passion and connection. A togetherness that bordered on feeling a momentary sense of completeness. Despite her wildest daydreams, her expectations were not predictions. They were nothing more than assumptions.

Ozzy swiped the key card with ease and opened the door to an unlit hotel room. He turned, reached for her hand, and guided her inside. Evelyn pulled Ozzy toward him, their bodies flush together in an embrace where they stumbled back. Evelyn's back flattening against the door.

"I thought you were sore from skiing?"

"I've since made a miraculous recovery."

Ozzy pinned their entwined hands above their head, his kisses feverish, imploring.

In the darkness, they kissed and caressed each other. Ozzy slowly untwined his hand from hers to grip her hip while his other free hand groped the walls for a light switch.

"Stupid lights."

Evelyn giggled. Instead of helping him, Evelyn kept her arms wrapped around his taunt frame, her lips on his neck.

"Are you going to help me?"

"I am helping you," Evelyn said, working on his belt.

Ozzy groaned and pressed her into the door, wedging his legs between hers. "You call that helping?"

Ozzy finally found the light switch, and the brightness disoriented them both. Evelyn blinked a couple times, her attention diverting to the suite. A king bed was in the middle of the room with a TV console mirroring it. Through the sheered curtains, a lower view of the snowy mountains glowed under a waxing gibbous.

The room was smaller than their suites upstairs, but Evelyn didn't mind. It was cozier. The oak floorboards were polished, the duvet plush. Whatever Evelyn noticed in the room was completely lost on Ozzy, who kept an undivided attention on her.

Ozzy pulled himself away from her, his eyes imploring and serious. "You're really sure?"

Evelyn smiled and pulled him toward the bed.

Ozzy kicked off his shoes on the way, his arms wrapping around Evelyn's waist from behind. He kissed the space behind her left ear, sending shivers down her spine. His hands trailed to her inner thighs, then dipped between. His fingers brushed over her centre, and Evelyn let out a sigh, her back sinking into his embrace.

Suddenly, Evelyn spun around and kissed him fiercely. Her hands slid down his firm chest, and she started pulling up his sweater.

Ozzy needed no more hints. He yanked his sweater over his head. Evelyn peeled her sweater up, and it got stuck around her shoulders. She laughed, and Ozzy helped dislodge it, tossing it over his head.

Evelyn sunk into the plush duvet. She unbuttoned her pants and waited for Ozzy to toss his own pants aside. Evelyn noticed a tenting in his boxers, but before she could reach out and examine it for herself, Ozzy sunk one knee into the bed and then the other.

He hovered over her, his hands finding the loops of her belt holes and peeling her skinny jeans off, tossing it to the side, missing the growing pile of clothes by many feet. He wedged his legs between hers and massaged her inner thighs.

Evelyn opened her eyes to see a point of view that was becoming more familiar: the ceiling. Evelyn moaned as Ozzy fondled her, her grip on his taunt shoulders tightening.

They were so close, and she couldn't imagine turning back. Not now, not ever.

Evelyn shifted, so she could partially sit up. She pulled down one of her bra straps, then the other. She unclasped her bra and let it fumble off the bed.

Ozzy's gaze drifted her bare chest with a focus that Evelyn found amusing. Although she felt exposed, she felt powerful.

"You're so beautiful," Ozzy said.

"Me or my boobs?"

He smirked and lowered himself over her again. "Both."

He circled his thumb around her nipples, massaging them until they pinched tight. His head dipped between her breasts, leaving a trail of kisses down her belly and to her underwear line.

Evelyn felt more heat rush to her core, her legs tightening around Ozzy's in anticipation. Ozzy pulled her underwear down slowly, then at once. She lied naked, underneath him, a shiver passing over her.

Ozzy hovered over her and gave her another languid kiss as he slipped off his boxers and lowered his body onto hers.

That's when she felt him. She had before, but this was the first time she felt him against her skin. As much as she thought she knew what to expect, the feel of him, hard and pulsing against her inner thigh was overwhelming.

She wanted to push him back to look, see, and feel, but she wasn't sure if there was protocol for that.

Evelyn traced a path down his sticky spine, past the dip in his lower back. She traced her fingers to the slim space that separated them, up his upper thing until her fingers found him. She wrapped her hand around him. Ozzy groaned and rolled his hips forward, as Evelyn stroked him.

Ozzy jerked back suddenly.

Evelyn pulled her hand away just as quickly. "Did I do something wrong?"

Ozzy ran a hand through his hair, trying to find his words. "No. It's just…if you keep doing that… I-um…this won't last long."

"Oh," Evelyn said.

Ozzy closed the space between them again. "And I won't be able to do this."

Evelyn felt him over her slick folds in a slow line. Evelyn arched her hips toward him, her thighs quivering.

Evelyn felt his hot breath against her ear. "Where did you learn that?"

Evelyn's flushed body grew redder.

"I…just…I don't know."

"Well, I really like it."

Ozzy kissed her neck, and Evelyn threaded her hand through his hair. Her eyes fluttered as her hips were ready to move, the need to be closer unyielding.

"Ozzy?"

"Mhmm?"

"You have a condom?"

It was meant as a statement, but her uncertainty made it into a question.

"Yeah," He said as his mouth roved over her breast.

"Where?" Evelyn said, breathless.

"Right…her—" He looked down. "Oh."

He bolted from the bed and dug in his jean pocket. He fished out a shiny package and ripped it open quickly. He rolled the condom on quickly and dove right back on top of her.

Ozzy's lips brushed against Evelyn's in a slow, sensual kiss, but all Evelyn could focus on was the way her body trembled with anticipation.

"I've wanted you for so long," Ozzy said.

"Me too," Evelyn admitted.

His first thrust was sudden causing Evelyn to gasp as she tried to make sense of this new feeling, feeling how everything in her body pulled taut around Ozzy, who sunk deeper into her.

"Is this okay?"

Evelyn squirmed a bit underneath him, unsure and somewhat uncomfortable. She nodded yes but shifted her position. Evelyn sighed, feeling the discomfort start to fade, and a wave of pleasure start to take over.

As they began to move together, Evelyn felt waves of pleasure race through her. Want and need were colliding, creating a bonfire of desire that Evelyn wanted to stoke, not extinguish.

"God, you feel so good," Ozzy said, his hands tightening on her bottom.

They pushed against each other, faster, more eager, matching each other's intensity. Evelyn's nails dug int Ozzy's shoulder blades. Ozzy's hand was tangled in her hair. Evelyn moaned, her eyes rolling back, as he thrust deeper, the friction against her centre gratifying, their bodies now pasted together with sweat and wet want.

"Come for me, Evelyn," Ozzy said, the tone of his voice dropping, breath hot against her lips, his pace unrelenting.

"Oh," Evelyn said, words failing her, as the intervals between each wave of pleasure became shorter and shorter.

"Evelyn," Ozzy groaned.

"Ozzy," Evelyn cried, her throat dry. With a bead of sweat dripping down from her temple, she felt a tidal wave of pleasure overtake her. Her body moved beyond her control, and she came undone, rush after rush of pleasure rippled through her, as she clutched Ozzy tight.

Ozzy braced himself over Evelyn and buried his mouth into her neck and unravelled, breath hitching, muscles shivering.

Ozzy collapsed beside Evelyn, breathing hard. Evelyn felt her body start to cool, every fiber of her being relaxed.

After catching her breath, Evelyn rolled onto her side to face Ozzy. She watched his chest rise and fall rapidly, the back of his hand wiping the sheen off his brow.

Ozzy lolled his head to face her, a satisfied grin on his face.

There was so much Evelyn wanted to say. So much she wanted to ask him. But no words were needed. Not in this moment.

Ozzy wrapped his arms around Evelyn and held her close.

Blair's knuckles ached after she knocked on the wooden door, the numbers 1016 staring back at her.

"Serena?" Blair called, her voice hoarse.

The door unlocked, and Serena stood in black silk pyjamas, her brow creased with worry.

"Blair!"

Serena rushed to her in her heels. Serena's long, golden hair blanketed her like a shield. Blair collapsed in Serena's arms, the tears finally catching up to her.

"Shhhh," Serena said and stroked the hair at the top of her head. "It's okay."

"You were right," Blair said. "About everything."

Serena guided her inside her hotel suite and handed her a box of Kleenex from her desk.

"Did we call in time?"

Blair nodded. "I thought I could handle it. I really did. I told myself that it was just like any other scheme."

"But it wasn't," Serena said.

Blair shook her head.

A part of Blair thought she could follow through with the plan. She thought she could see the scheme through regardless of what was required to make it happen. Tonight, she thought that she could follow through her seduction with Jack. She didn't think there were any consequences to winning that battle. She didn't realize she had something to lose though, and that she wasn't willing to lose it.

"You asked if it was worth it. It wasn't."

It wasn't worth selling herself out for a scheme. It wasn't worth testing Chuck's trust, pushing that too far. It wasn't worth putting herself in a position where she could have gotten hurt or worse.

Serena squeezed her tight.

"Are you okay?"

Blair nodded. "I will be."

"Let's sit," Serena said. "Joy is on her way."

"Joy knew?"

"She's the one who called Jack to inform him that his office was broken into," Serena said. "She came up with the idea too."

"Joy did that?"

"Yup. I needed backup, and I called her. There's a lot of people that care about you, B," Serena said. "And I think rooming with you has finally rubbed off on her."

"If only she could pick up some fashion sense from me," Blair said.

Serena sighed and checked her phone. "Or you could accept her for who she is?"

Blair waved her off.

"Did you talk to Chuck?"

Blair thought back to the opera, what felt like so long ago, where he nearly foiled the work she put into alleviating Jack's suspicions. He made things even harder for her tonight, something she was doing completely for his benefit.

"Not yet," Blair said. "Did I tell you that he showed up at the opera tonight and almost ruined everything?"

"Why would he do that?"

"I didn't have the chance to ask."

Serena shook her head. "He has a lot of explaining to do."

He did. Blair would make certain of that. But it could wait until tomorrow.

"So how about watching Audrey tonight?" Blair said.

"I'll have to check my busy social schedule," Serena said. "But I think I can pencil you in."

"Thanks, S," Blair said. "For having my back tonight."

"Anytime," Serena said.

They embraced once more and Blair held on tighter to her best friend, her anchor.

Evelyn woke the next morning slowly. She woke with her eyes still shut, and her body relaxed, undisturbed. She slept on her side, head on her pillow, body moulded to Ozzy's. Her hand rested on his chest that rose and fell with a calm and steady pace. She snuggled closer, a grin on her face, as the memories made last night replaying in her head. And then it hit her.

She, Evelyn Bass, lost her virginity last night.

All her adolescence, she'd been told that a loss of virginity was a big deal. It was a consequential decision that would render her youthful innocence. That innocence would be lost, and it was something she could never take back.

And yet, she didn't feel that sense of loss she was supposed to. She didn't feel loss at all. Instead, she just felt like she had let go of something, be it her childhood, the archaic expectations of sex, or something else equally difficult to name. By letting go, she gained something else. Passion, desire, and intimacy that she welcomed.

Evelyn rubbed her eyes awake. Ozzy slept soundly beside her. She considered jostling him awake but decided against it. She took the opportunity to admire his profile unabashed, his strong jawline, peppered with dark hairs. Her eyes roved over his bare chest, and she pulled back the sheets. She didn't get the longest look the night before and was curious.

"This isn't a museum," Ozzy said. "You can look and touch."

Evelyn dropped the sheet and felt her entire body flush.

"I thought you were asleep."

Ozzy opened his eyes, smirking. "I was."

"Not deeply enough apparently," Evelyn said.

Ozzy wrapped his arms around her and chuckled. "I wouldn't sleep through that, trust me."

Ozzy turned his head to face her, their noses touching. "Morning."

"Morning."

Evelyn stretched her legs out. When she shifted her body, she felt a sore throb between her legs.

"You okay?"

"A little sore, but good."

Evelyn leaned forward and kissed him. Ozzy rolled on top of her and began kissing her neck. Evelyn tilted her head to the other side, her gaze softened. She saw glowing red numbers blur from the nightstand until they glowed into focus.

"Oh my God," Evelyn said.

Ozzy took this as a cue to run his hands along her bare body.

"Ozzy, it's eight fifteen!"

"So?"

"We have to be ready and on the bus in fifteen minutes."

Ozzy sat up on his elbows and looked at the clock in a daze. "Oh shit."

Evelyn tossed off the covers and scrambled for her clothes. Each time she bent to pick up another shred of clothing, she felt the soreness throb again and winced.

"Where's my bra?" Evelyn said.

Ozzy held it from the other side of the bed with a smirk. She snatched it from him and once she buttoned the rest of her clothes on, she checked the room for anything else left behind. Ozzy took a more relaxed approach and laced his shoes methodically.

"See you on the bus!" Evelyn said, giving a quick peck before dashing out of the suite.

"Hey, there's only one elevato—"

Evelyn pushed the button and the elevator arrived within moments. After tapping her key card, she arrived in her suite like a hurricane. Fortunately, she did most of her packing the night before, but still had to finish it. She lifted her suitcase on her unmade bed, not noticing that any traces of a party that occurred last night were gone.

Catherine appeared from the bathroom with her coat on, and purse slung over her shoulder.

"Late night?" Catherine asked.

"Not as late as yours," Evelyn said, pushing down her clothes to make room for her toiletries.

"You don't need to rush. I told Ms. Prudence you weren't going to be ready in time."

"You did what?"

Catherine shrugged. "We all had a late start this morning, so I found a way to give us all more time to make it back on the bus without being interrogated."

Evelyn stopped packing and looked at Catherine quizzically. "Um…Thank you."

"You might not want to thank me too soon," Catherine said. "I told her you had diarrhea."

And there it was. The slight Evelyn anticipated. A pure act of kindness wasn't in Catherine's DNA.

"So, if she asks," Catherine said, "You'll know what she's talking about."

Evelyn zipped up her luggage, further confused with the sudden turn.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I told our teacher you had diarrhea. What's nice about that?"

"It's not, but you had an opportunity to throw me under the bus to get me in trouble, but you didn't."

Catherine shrugged and opened the door. "Didn't seem as important anymore."

Catherine rolled her suitcase toward the elevator. Evelyn picked up her coat, stuck her arms through the sleeves patiently, trying to piece together Catherine's behaviour. If she wasn't mistaken, Catherine was waving a white flag, or as close to waving a white flag as she could.

"Elevator's here," Catherine said.

Evelyn wrapped her hand around her suitcases' handle and shut the door behind her.

Chuck woke the next morning to the sound of a knock at the door.

"Nate," Chuck called. He pulled one pillow over his ear. "Someone's at the door."

He rolled over and the knocking persisted.

"Nate?"

When he didn't hear a response, Chuck grumbled and got to his feet. He swayed to the front door, his head throbbing, limbs heavy.

Blair stood on the other side of the door.

"Blair? What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk."

She brushed past him with an energy and purpose Chuck was not prepared for so early in the morning.

"Is everything okay?"

"Depends on your definition," Blair said. "Are you okay? I tried calling, but it went to voice mail. I wasn't sure if you would be here or in jail."

"I called my dad," Chuck said. "He paid my bail."

"Will it be on your record?"

"I…assume so," Chuck said.

Blair shook her head. "I don't understand. Why were you following us last night?"

Chuck moved to the kitchen and started his espresso machine.

"Would you like a coffee?"

"Answer my question."

"Fine. I just wanted to check in that things were going well, and to see from a distance what Jack's intentions were."

"You didn't trust me."

"I trust you, Blair. I don't trust Jack."

"I recall you saying otherwise last year."

"Last year? Blair, come on, this is different."

"It's not. You said you couldn't trust me because I have my own agenda. That I'm not a team player and don't put everything out on the table. So here I am to tell you what happened last night. To put everything out on the table."

The espresso machine percolated. Chuck's felt his chest tighten.

"What happened last night?"

"After you left, we went to the opera. I covered for your appearance and everything went fine. Jack asked me to go back to his suite for a drink, and I accepted. I had a chance to look around his place for clues, but he caught me in his bedroom."

The machine roared as it finished pouring the coffee, a few drips remaining.

"I stalled, and he made his intentions very clear then."

"Did he hurt you?" Chuck said, anger lacing his words.

"No. I messaged Serena to help me find a way out because I realized then that I…couldn't follow through. I thought I could pull one over on Jack, but in that moment, I was dangerously close to getting outplayed."

Blair looked down at her hands. "I know I said I'd do anything to help you with this, and I'm sorry to have let you down."

Chuck rushed to Blair and enveloped her in his arms.

"Blair, you didn't let me down. Not in the slightest."

Her eyes were glassy. "I knew I could have gone rogue then. I could have kept going, but do you want to know what happened?"

"Yes."

"I remembered what you said last year. Why you couldn't trust me. In that moment, I understood what you meant. I didn't trust myself."

Chuck kissed her and held her close.

"Did you get out?"

Blair nodded. "Joy called Jack and told him his office had been robbed. He bought it instantly. Imagine. Joy of all people came up with that."

"She has been learning from the best," Chuck said. "Jack probably thought my father had something to do with it."

"Potentially," Blair said. "He left me. Treated me like I was an afterthought."

"How are you today?" Chuck asked.

"Better. He hasn't messaged me since."

Chuck pulled away, feeling a rush of inadequacy overtake him.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you."

"You were in jail."

"From my own jealous stupidity," Chuck said.

"Chuck, it's okay. You're here now. I need you now."

Chuck pulled her close again and kissed her softly. "Is there anything I can do?"

Blair's head rested against his chest. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," Chuck said.

They kissed and held each other until Chuck's espresso cooled.

"We'll start again with a new plan," Chuck said.

Blair untangled herself from Chuck's embrace. "That might not be necessary."

Blair opened her clutch and paused. She looked up at him with tentative eyes.

"I did find something while searching Jack's suite," Blair said. "I think it'll lead us to the only way we can get to Jack to take him down."

"Let's see it," Chuck said.

Blair presented the scrap of paper.

"Black Cube?" Chuck said. "What's this?"

"I found it on the floor of his bedroom. I thought it could mean something, give us a lead to something he's been doing business wise. If he ripped it, it must have made him upset."

"Perhaps. I'll look into it."

"Chuck, you might want to sit down for the other piece I found."

"Blair, I'm sure I can handle this."

She fished out a glossy photo, it's edges slightly crinkled and curled. The back of the picture was yellowed, smudged inked words covered with Blair's fingers.

"Remember when Maya went to Jack's place and said she saw a photo face down in the drawer by his bedside? I checked for myself and found this."

Chuck saw his Uncle Jack with his arm around a young, beautiful woman with dark hair and mysterious smile. He flipped over the picture and read the inscribed time stamp.

Staten Island 1994.

He dropped the photo on the counter. He looked around the room, looked at anything other than the picture.

"Chuck?" Blair said. "You understand what this means right?"

He didn't want to, but he did. He knew exactly what this meant.

His mother had an affair with Jack.

It looks like Mommy Dearest wasn't sugar and spice and everything nice after all. Follow the carnal brick road C but be careful where it leads you.

You Know You Love Me,

XOXO Gossip Girl

A/N: And there you have it! Blair uncovers some new leads while strengthening her bond with Chuck in spite of Jack's efforts, Evelyn/Ozzy grow closer, and Bart/Kim find common ground.

So what's next? The next chapter is titled "Legally Bound" We'll be moving full steam into the trial from here on out.

As always, do let me know your thoughts in a review!

Till next time,

XOXO EZ11