Woah, sorry for disappearing for a few weeks! I've been so busy with trips, birthdays and all sorts. Then, I was going to post this chapter yesterday, but I got food poisoning!

Anyway, enough about me. Thank you for staying with me (if you have) and apologies for the longer wait.

Also, I'm hearing whispers that this site might be on its last legs. I really hope that's not true :'(

Chuck's head stilled at last in the crook of Blair's dampened neck. She'd lost count by now, and was sure he had too, but this latest occasion had followed a tensely bargained promise, one they'd struck up in the hopes of at last calling time on the endless hours already lost in his bed.

'Friends don't do this.' She'd hissed, mere seconds before he pulled her back against him.

'Would it suffice to say oops?' Blair offered, her fingers tracing a lazy pattern on his lower back.

'I think the word friend is cursed for us.' He murmured into her skin. 'Blair, promise me you will never again darken your bathroom, look into the mirror and swear three times to be my friend.'

'We're going to have to re-think our approach, aren't we?' She said, breathless as he rolled away from her with a groan. 'Being friends really was a nice idea though.'

'I haven't got the mental capacity to think about the can of worms we've opened right now, Blair.' His response was muffled by the pillow he'd planted his face in.

He sounded truly exhausted, and she couldn't help but giggle, tucking the tops of the bedsheets around herself. Modesty was the least of her concerns after the thirty-six hours they'd spent in one another's company, but there was a slight chill in the air now that the darkness of night had rolled around once again.

After her lunch with Matilda, Blair had gone to Chuck's suite, all guns blazing, to lecture him in earnest about his carelessness. She'd been entirely determined to reprimand him for the behaviour he'd exhibited earlier that afternoon; she'd even really tried to resist him when he pulled her roughly through his door with a blinding kiss. She'd tried a little less hard when her feet seemed to move off their own accord towards his bedroom. Then, Blair had at last given up when the starved look in his eye backed her up to the foot of his bed.

'We shouldn't do this.'

'No.' He agreed, hands still pulling hastily at the buttons on her blouse.

'I mean it, Chuck.'

'So do I.' His mouth silenced her.

'This really reminds me of old times.' She cooed.

Chuck opened one eye to study her. 'Me too.' Was his soft response.

Reflecting on their past fling had become one of her favoured pastimes in the few months that had passed. 'It was good then, but it's better now.' She mused, watching his tousled hair move up and down in a nod. 'What if we're honest and just admit we don't want to be friends anyway?'

'Well, I think we can both admit we've firmly shot that idea to hell by this point anyway, Blair.' The statement was accompanied by a chortle that she heard despite his attempt to silence it.

She smirked, fingers trailing over his hip. 'Maybe just a little.'

The passage of her hand elicited a shudder from Chuck, who snatched for it, imprisoning it in his own.

'Please.' He gripped tighter, his voice beseeching but tentative. 'I'm exhausted.' She could hear how tempted he was.

Blair pulled her hand away with a laugh. 'Okay, fine. I should probably get home anyway. It's Monday tomorrow, back to the real world.' She mourned.

'What are we going to do?' Chuck seemed to be ruminating less over the course for their working relationship, and more the sheet that was edging away from her frame as she shifted to reach for her long-since-discarded underwear.

'I was hoping you'd have come up with a clever plan, actually.' Blair returned, quickly shimmying lace up and over her legs.

'It's hard to think straight when you're bending like that.' Chuck croaked. She could hear the dryness of his mouth and hurried her dressing.

'I thought you were exhausted.' The word was accompanied by a melodramatic sigh and a hand to her forehead.

'Maybe I've been reinvigorated.' He said, reaching for her.

Blair evaded his grasp and pulled the rumpled dress that had lay on the floor since Friday over her head. Once decent, she took a hesitant seat on the edge of his bed, careful not to put herself within striking distance.

'We need a plan, Chuck.'

'I thought we'd decided we weren't making any more attempts at being friends already?'

'Yes,' she said, as though the dismissal of their priorly friendly arrangement was the most obvious thing in the world. 'But what are the parameters? We've been in this one room for a day and a half- we need boundaries.'

'I resent boundaries, particularly right now and in the form of that heinous dress.' Chuck leaned into her, barely covered by the sheets, and lunged for the zip she'd just fastened at her side.

Blair raised her eyebrows at him, her hands unmoving and silence stony. She was conveying one thing only: Dior was never heinous, and he'd take that back if he knew what was good for him.

'Fine. It's a beautiful dress.' He relented, huffing with hands held up as he sank back against the headboard. 'Talk.'

'What do we do about the work conundrum? We can't keep our hands off each other, but while you're still my superior, we must.'

'Are you still averse to the promotion idea?' He offered.

She glared at him. 'I thought I already told you to-'

'Okay,' his interruption was hurried. 'I won't bring it up again. Work will have to be a neutral zone- we'll bide our time and behave until the board see the error of their ways and award you the promotion by themselves.'

'And you promise not to meddle?' Blair could feel the anger that had begun to rise in her chest settling back into its cage.

'I don't promise anything where you're concerned.'

'Chuck! This is important to me; I don't want my career handed to me thanks to indecorous means.'

'Fine. I swear I won't meddle.' His promise was punctuated by an eyeroll, but it was a promise, nonetheless.

'So,' She sighed. 'Work is a neutral zone. How about broader Manhattan?'

She watched Chuck go silent and drop his eyes to toy with the ring on his finger, turning it once, twice, then three times before he looked back up at her. It was how she knew his answer wasn't going to please her.

'Look,' he sighed before continuing. 'I'm not saying never, I'm just saying not right now.'

She nodded, swallowing the hurt like rocks. 'Manhattan is neutral.'

'But here and your place, anywhere no one will see us, we can do this.'

He meant Nate, of course. Chuck wouldn't have cared about work finding out, 'nor the wider population for that matter. But he cared about keeping his only genuine friend.

'And what is this?' She pushed, gesturing between their so recently disentangled bodies.

'The best sex of your life.' His grin was devilish.

'Anything else?' Blair asked, her lips thinned and eyes impatient.

'The best sex of my life?'

'Chuck.' The word was a warning that made him finally snap.

'What do you want me to tell you, Blair? That I like you? That I have ever since we were kids? That I've never wanted to spend more than one night with a woman, let alone all my time, until you climbed up onto a stage, unzipped your dress and threw my world off its axis?'

She beamed. 'Easy there. I like you will do just fine for now.'

'And what is this for you?' He asked, determined to get something in return for his admission.

Blair moved towards him on her hands and knees, brushing his lips with the gentlest kiss.

'I think it's plain to see that I like you too.'

'Well, that's good.' Her murmured against her lips.

She pulled away from him and returned to her seat, feeling suddenly shied by their revelations. Blair hadn't admitted feelings for anybody besides Nate before, and Chuck, well, she was fairly certain he'd never even thought about addressing what lay in the impenetrable, hard-coated heart he was infamous for.

'What if we mess this up?' She asked feebly.

'What if we don't?'

Blair could see it clear as day- birthday presents, bickering in the kitchen, butterflies.

She nodded.

'And when I get my promotion, when Nate has been back long enough to have his attention caught by someone new?'

'Then we'll climb to the top of the Empire State Building, and I'll kiss you for so long it's all anyone will talk about for weeks after.'

Butterflies were then, rather ceremoniously, crossed off her list.

'Tell me.' She implored, suddenly serious. 'When did you change your mind?'

'Hmm?'

'Back when you got the job over me, you seemed to hate me.' She recalled his ire with great distaste. 'You wanted to torture me, even. What was it that changed your mind?'

Chuck sighed when he understood her meaning. 'I don't think I've ever really hated you.' A smile slid over his lips.

'You could have fooled me.' She retorted, the shapely arch of her brow raising high.

'They do say that when a boy likes a girl, he tends to make her life hell.'

'Bass.' She warned. 'I might have bought that if you were a five-year-old demon pulling on my hair.'

'Fine. Yes, I did hate you for a while. And since you mention pulling hair, the very sight of your perfect curls, bouncing as you so self-assuredly slid your faultless resumé out of its folder the morning of the interviews, was as infuriating as it was arousing.' He grinned at the memory that made her glower.

'I hated you right back. Especially when you paired up with Matilda to inflict misery on me.'

'Oh, I know. It was so enjoyable watching you squirm whenever she entered the room.'

'I can't stand her.' Blair spat.

'No.' He countered cockily. 'What you can't stand is the jealousy she inspires in you.'

She shot him a vicious look, hating how right he was.

'You're avoiding my question with all these pointless details. Just tell me, when did you have your come to Jesus moment?'

Chuck stayed quiet a moment as he thought, then smiled at her with a softness she hadn't been prepared for. Her heart jumped.

'I guess I knew the choice wasn't mine anymore that day you came here; when you went to the office for me and came running over to tell me how you'd stood in my place to protect me. I knew I couldn't pretend what I was feeling was hatred anymore.'

'And you thought I'd come to gloat.' She muttered.

He shrugged. 'Don't tell me you didn't at least think about sabotaging me first?'

Blair shrugged right back.

'You said yourself you hated me right back. When was yours?'

She pondered her answer for a while. Perhaps, she thought, she ought to have said it was the sweetness of his generosity at the hotel in Chicago, the way he'd sat on her bed and apologised. But it had been before then.

'I think it was when you arranged the lunch with Mark.'

'That was uncharacteristically benevolent of me.' He remarked, musing on his first act of kindness to her.

'It wasn't that. I don't care about Mark- and let's not forget you also invited Matilda along.' Blair said, her gaze momentarily icy. 'It was that you remembered Gramercy Tavern was my favourite, even after all these years.' The smile that lighted her face as she reminisced was so infectious that he couldn't help but wear it with her. 'When I knew you couldn't stop yourself from thinking about that time with all the honey.'

'I can't believe the unsubtle way you brought that up in front of the CFO.' He jibed playfully.

'Me? I can't believe the way you did.'

She could feel herself gravitating back towards him and exhaled sadly. 'Okay, I seriously need to go otherwise this is never going to stop. If I stay, we'll both be fired for truancy and there'll be no promotion to earn.'

'I rather like the sound of having endless free time with you.'

'Chuck.' Her voice lingered over the sound of his name in a way she knew he'd always enjoyed. 'I'm going. Goodbye.'

'I'll see you in the morning.' He hummed to her retreating figure.

The subsequent days spent at the office, then wrapped up in one another after work had finished, had been nothing short of bliss. Blair had, more than once, marvelled at his ability to make her eschew her promises of neutrality and good behaviour to follow him into a copying closet with nothing more than a sideways glance or two. Then, she'd marvelled again at the brilliant ignorance of their co-workers, who must have more than once noticed them both flustered, breathless and dishevelled, emerging from the same, disused hallway lined with dimly lit conference rooms that nobody ever went into. Only one comment was made, and by Blair's least favourite woman in the business, of course.

'Are you alright?' Matilda questioned, disrupting her own sentence. She was perched on the edge of Blair's desk delivering her some mind-numbing details on a matter she cared for very little. Chuck wasn't hiding beneath the wood this time. After their first near miss, she'd outright insisted that, if they were to break their own weakly imposed rules for office limitations, they should take to finding spots with lockable doors for their encounters. So this time he was waiting for her, and rather impatiently too, in a darkened room down the hall. His demands flashed relentlessly on the phone screen that lay face-up on her desk.

'Somebody is blowing up your cell, Blair.' Matilda commented, peering over at the screen that was, by the grace of God, upside down to her. 'And it's not standard procedure to advise staff to deal with their personal crises at work, but do you think that you should maybe check it's nothing important?' She looked genuinely concerned and genuinely nosy all at once.

Blair snatched her phone up and pretended to briefly scan the queue of messages demanding her immediate presence in Room F.

'Just a few details from my maid, nothing to worry about.' Blair lied flawlessly, her only giveaway the insistent tapping of her foot beneath her desk.

'Right.' Matilda said slowly, her pale eyes narrowing. 'Anyway, as I was saying-'

They were distracted first by the swinging door, then his voice as he grumbled, 'Blair, are you coming or not? We only have fifteen min-' Blair bit her lip and closed her eyes the briefest of moments while Matilda turned round to refocus her attention on the intruder. 'Oh. Hi, Matilda.' He said casually, his tone switching almost instantaneously from frustrated impatience to cordiality.

'Fifteen minutes for what?' She asked, tapping her leg against the desk.

That was when his seamless lying came up short. 'Well, Blair and I just needed to, uh-'

'Actually.' Blair cut in to save him. 'Chuck has assigned me a research task, Matilda. We set aside fifteen minutes for me to take him through my early-stages proposal for the next quarter.'

Matilda looked back at Blair inquisitively; so did Chuck, but he simply flashed her a disbelieving grin.

'Oh, that's great news.' Matilda clapped her hands together and hopped up from her post. 'You both must know how keen we are for our new recruits to take initiative wherever possible.'

Chuck and Blair looked at one another with widened, relieved eyes, then nodded brightly together.

'So, if you'll excuse me, actually.' Blair said, standing from her seat and pulling some unrelated papers together.

'I hope this isn't an imposition, but I'd love to sit in on your presentation too, Blair.' Matilda asked.

'You would?'

'Really?'

They'd spoken at the same time, their questions harmonising in complementary notes of panic. He came to first, though.

'I'm sure Blair would be delighted to share her proposal with you too, Matilda. From what I've heard so far, her ideas have great promise.' He smirked behind the other woman's back and it took every ounce of Blair's self-control not to walk over and smack him.

But she could do little to deny her now, so the trio moved together towards the boardroom that had, just moments ago, been selected for a fifteen-minute rendezvous. Now, rather less pleasantly, it was going to be the site of Blair's imminent mortification. He'd pay for this.

'So, next quarter. The floor is all yours, Waldorf.' Chuck spoke easily, settling into a seat beside Matilda.

'Well.' She took a deep breath, searching her soul for whatever she could find. The seconds felt like hours, her mouth dry as she floundered desperately behind the walls of a cool façade. But then it hit her.

'I actually happened to be speaking with somebody in marketing last week, and he mentioned that investment is dropping, and a change in strategy regarding the way we attract capital might be on the horizon.'

Chuck caught her gaze and nodded slowly, silently. His eyes glittered with encouragement and it was everything she needed. Blair sighed and set her shoulders back.

'Now, I understand that it may be difficult for a commoner like you to fathom the function of the upper classes.' She eyed Matilda directly; her smile was sweet but biting. 'But given my superior upbringing and breeding, I am obviously better positioned to know which kinds of events, what language and the ideas that draw our kind in.'

'Yes, you certainly do know how to attract money.' Chuck agreed, smirking into the notepad he'd brought to the room as a prop.

Blair grinned at his comment. Matilda, though, she simply frowned.

'I think we have plenty of rich kids in this business who know how to pander to the elite, Blair.'

'Ah- but that's where you're wrong. If you knew anything about the elite, you'd know that those of us with real influence don't want to be pandered and sucked-up to- that's for the aspiring classes.'

'Go on.'

'You see, what's really important to us, above all, is actually privacy. Trust me, Matilda, there's nothing our class wants more than to have fun without the fear it might end up on the cover of some tacky news outlet. I take it you've heard of Serena van der Woodsen?'

'Of course I have, she's been in Cosmo more times than I could count.' Matilda snorted in a way that Blair thought made her look very unattractive.

'I rest my case.' She moved pointedly from one side of the room to the other.

'I still don't see how the board would go for less publicity at events. If anything, they've been talking about needing more press on the doors of our functions.' Matilda checked her watch blithely, almost seeming to dismiss Blair's idea before it had been fully realised.

'I recognise that it may sound counter-intuitive at first, but if we can create an environment where our investors, and their chosen guests of course, feel free from the usual throng photographers that document their every move at galas and charity dinners, they'll want to stick around. But better yet, they'll want to bring more of their kind. Of course, we can still put the majority of our budget behind traditional marketing and publicity, but I really believe that an invaluable perk like subtlety is a way to draw bigger names.'

'I'm not sure, Blair- it sounds a little sordid. I don't know how that would work for our image. We had to do a lot of damage control after the way things went down at our last Christmas ball.'

'Sordid? Please, you forget you're talking to me and not him.' She extended a fingernail towards Chuck, who pretended to doff an imaginary hat. 'The point is not to encourage extra-marital affairs and debauchery, it's just that nobody knows these events are taking place. It will be kept secret from the general public and their prying, gossip-craving ears and eyes. Only we, our investors and their guests will know about the soirees. It's very simple really- once they feel their needs for a more exclusive and tight-lipped setting have been seen and heard, they'll dig deeper in their pockets.'

Matilda twisted her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger. 'So, what about the logistics then?'

'We'll host a celebration for our top investors every third month; we'll change the location each time, offer them discreet access and anonymity. They'll each have five guest passes, but besides their spouse or partner, they'll be required to rotate their guests for the second and fourth events each year.'

'So more people from the investing echelon will be introduced to our events.' Chuck mused, watching her with analytical eyes.

'Exactly. It couldn't be simpler.'

'You know, that's actually not such a bad idea.' Matilda began scribbling notes in a book of her own.

'It's more than that actually.' Chuck commented. 'I hope you ladies can excuse me for the rather coarse comparison, but my father used to frequent travelling sex clubs. You'd be astounded to see how much money and favour changes hands when people think nobody is watching. Cleaning up that model and recreating it in a family-friendly setting for our investors, well, it's-'

'It's perfect.' Blair finished for him.

'I have to go, but do you think you could get this drawn up digitally, Blair? I'll need you to explain it to the board and marketing exactly how you just did for me.' Matilda asked. 'But maybe minus the classist insults.' She added dryly, before getting up and moving towards the door.

'I'll have it ready tomorrow.' She replied, somewhat astounded as she watched her depart from the room.

Chuck, who had stayed silent as she left, began to clap slowly, his eyes, now shining with pride, were trained on Blair.

'What the hell did you do that for?' She hissed, moving to push the door more firmly shut.

'What do you mean? You positively shined. Shouldn't you be happy?' He asked, etching endless, looping circles on the pages of his book.

'I could have made a total fool of myself, Chuck. I had no time to prepare.'

'Blair,' he said, setting his pen down to rest on his elbows. 'We both know you've got better ideas than most people here. Sometimes we need a little pressure to make diamonds.'

She tried to glare at him, but the resounding delight in his tone was entirely defeating.

'Come on, you can't be mad. It was a gamble, but it paid off. Matilda is going to get you a meeting with the board, you're one step closer to your promotion.'

'I'm not mad, I'm- I don't know.'

He rose from his seat and wound his arms around her waist. 'You know, you're very sexy when you're presenting your ideas.'

'Really?'

He hummed his approval and pulled her nearer. 'What do you say we get out of here?'

'Oh.' Blair sighed. 'I'd love to, Bass.' Aligning her body against his in a way she knew made him incapable of thinking, she pressed her lips against the skin just behind his ear. 'But it looks like you just got me a homework assignment. I have to go and put together a presentation.' She whispered. Pushing his hands off her waist, Blair exited the room without a look back.

To say that her presentation the following afternoon had gone well would have been an understatement. It had won her praise of such a calibre that, according to Mark, the board hadn't offered out in a long time. So, it was with her triumph in mind that she'd skipped home to dress for the evening.

Chuck hadn't showed at work that day, which she'd thought odd but not had time to question. Nonetheless, she had no qualms about heading right over to his suite and letting herself in with the key he'd had cut for her.

When she opened the door, she found the lights on everywhere, so Blair walked into the living area to find Chuck resting easily on the couch with a glass of scotch in his hand, another, empty, was placed lazily beside a coaster on the table. When he looked up and saw her, his mouth fell open.

'You need to go.' He whispered, standing up to usher her back towards the door. 'Now.'

'What the hell are you talking about, Bass?' She shook her elbow free of his vice-like grip and planted herself firmly where she stood. 'Have you got someone here? Is that why you weren't at work today?' Blair could hear the rising horror in her accusations.

'Blair, please. This isn't the time. Go now, I'll explain later, you really can't be here right-'

'Blair?'

The sound of the third voice made Blair's blood run cold and Chuck, her last grounding influence, let go of her arm immediately, as though touching her burned his skin. He didn't look at her once as he skulked back towards the couch and lowered himself down, his jaw opening wide enough to swallow the entirety of the liquid that had swirled in its crystal vessel.

'Nate.' Blair choked, looking now directly at the man she'd left behind at Yale. He was somehow broader and blonder, but his eyes still kind and calm as a lagoon in the height of a breezeless summer. She felt nothing.

'I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was back today.' He offered, sheepish for no reason.

'Well, it's just a surprise to see you here, that's all.' She muttered, almost below her breath.

'I know, I'm sorry for just turning up like this, but-' He paused for a second, looking between she and Chuck. 'Actually, Blair, why are you here?'

'Oh, it's um-'

'It's a work thing.' Chuck spoke at last, dark and gruff as he glared from his seat at nothing in particular.

'On a Friday night? Man, that place is working you both too hard.'

Blair laughed awkwardly, looking anywhere but at Chuck. She sent up a silent prayer to whatever might have been up there, thanking it for Nate's empty head and lack of critical thinking skills.

'I can just come back another time.'

Chuck said yes at the same time Nate said no.

'I was going to head out anyway- I should stop by my mom's.' Nate offered, moving towards the door where Blair stood. 'Hey, do you want me to take your coat when I grab mine on the way?' He gestured towards the knee-length trench that was tightly fastened around her waist.

She clung to the tie like a lifeline. 'Oh, no. I'm good thanks.'

'Really? It's super warm in here.' Nate pressed, eyeing the way she clutched at the fabric until her knuckles turned white.

It had been 'super warm' in Chuck's suite ever since the pair of them had taken to spending as little time clothed as possible there.

'No, thank you.' Blair insisted more firmly this time, stealing a glance at Chuck across Nate's shoulder. His gaze was averted still.

'Okay.' Nate shrugged, pulling her attention back to him. 'Oh, should we all grab that drink we were talking about tomorrow night?'

Blair's fist tightened around the strap of her handbag.

'You arranged to go for a drink together?' His voice, interjecting through the tense silence, was chilling.

She bit her lip and, this time, it was she who avoided his stony gaze.

'Oh sure, Blair and I spoke on the phone a few nights ago, just to clear the air about me coming back, you know?' The easy way he spoke the words was so at odds with their impact.

'Blair didn't mention it to me.' Chuck's voice came like ice.

'Why would she have?' Nate's question was innocent enough. Why indeed would she have.

'Point taken.'

Standing there, despite using Nate as something of a human shield, she could feel the piercing impact of his stirring rage.

'Oh, well it would be sweet to see you there. I'll get out of your hair now anyway.' He smiled at Blair, pulling her into an embarrassing half-hug that she could feel stoking the flames of anger that licked up inside the man behind them.

By the time her ex-boyfriend was out of the door, it was already too late. Just looking at him was like trying to gather up waves as they drew away from the shore to crash back harder.

'I'd just like to know when you've been finding the time?' His voice was measured and calm, but his eyes were black, and wholly terrifying.

'What do you mean?' She sighed, throwing her bag down on the ground.

'For these clandestine calls with your beau? Was it as I slept in the mornings, or when you made your quick dashes home to get your things?'

'Chuck, I called him once.' She resented explaining herself, for she'd done nothing wrong.

'Oh and you called him? That's even better.'

His jealousy was emerald green, his self-doubt clear as crystal.

'Be serious. I'm a grown woman, I can call whomever I choose.' She shifted uncomfortably on her tall heels.

'That you are, and frankly, I should have known better.' Chuck spat, gripping his empty glass so hard she worried it might smash in his hand.

'What do you mean by that?' Blair demanded in one fiery breath.

'It doesn't matter, does it, no matter how much I seem to want you? You haven't grown up at all. You're still keeping that door open and I'm just a pastime until you figure things out with the man you really think is good enough for you.'

She wanted to scoff at his statement, it was almost too foolish. 'Don't make this a comparison between you and him.'

'Why? Because he'll always come out on top? Nothing I do will make you pick me over him, will it?' He got up from his seat and positioned himself opposite her. The height of her heels made them level, angry eyes to angry eyes.

'You're being ridiculous.' She cried.

The glass did smash then, he'd dropped it to the floor and it crashed hard into the wooden strip.

They both stood staring at each other a moment, neither one entirely sure if he'd smashed the glass on purpose.

Blair looked down at the fragments on the floor and then up at him. Silently, she got to her knees in front of him and began gathering up the larger shards. The sound had disrupted everything.

'Stop.' He murmured softly, kneeling down opposite her to reach for her diligent hands. 'Stop.' He said again. 'This doesn't matter, you're going to hurt yourself.' He told her when she carried on, more insistent than before.

But Blair would not stop. Wordlessly, she gathered the splintered crystal as though if she could collect it all up, it could be put back together and the whole thing forgotten. His hands started moving with hers, not saying anything except to warn her that the smaller pieces were sharp when they'd punctured his fingertips and little specks of red had begun to bloom and bead.

Most of the glass was gone when Chuck helped her up from the floor and over to the couch. He covered the pile they'd made with a towel, then washed and dried his hands in the kitchen sink.

She couldn't let him cover it all up though, and she got to her feet. 'You said that nothing would make me pick you over him?' Blair repeated his earlier question after a few moments of silence, her voice void of passion.

Slowly, she pulled at the ties of her coat to reveal the satin and lace lingerie she'd chosen for him after work that evening; It was his favourite colour. 'Then answer me this. Who do I stand before now? Who did I dress for tonight?'

As she bared her body and her soul to him, the noise that escaped his throat was indistinguishable as words; it was agonising and restorative.

'I don't care about him; I haven't cared about him for a long time.' Blair spoke quietly, watching him with caution as he gripped the marble counter in the kitchen. 'I called him once. It was before any of this, and it was because I wanted to make sure he knew he was only coming back to New York, and not to me.' She rid her shoulders of the coat and it fell to the floor with a muffled thud. It lay alongside the minute fragments of glass that their fingers had been unable to find. It didn't matter that they were still there, they'd picked up enough.

'I'm so sorry. Come here.' His arms were open to her, beckoning with their warmth, softness and safety.

'We need to end this, Chuck.' She warned before taking her first step towards him. 'You're going to destroy yourself with all this needless jealousy. He needs to know- we need him to know.' Blair let herself be wrapped up and held, let him whisper promises into the top of her head, waiting for the one she needed to hear most.

'I'll tell him, I promise. Just give me this week.'

She nodded and sank further into him.