A/N: Like I said, I'm not that used to making longer stories... But I'm trying. ;-D

Sam: Yey she updated! And I'm included in the chapter! Think you can finish this story for me too? I can just sit back, relax, and wait for the story to end… I need some of that descriptive magic right about now! I'm included in your chapter, here you are in mine. Quid pro quo? ;-P

Kathryn Merteuil Jr.: Here ya go. Unfortunately for me, I'm also moving at the rate of a Special Olympics hurdler myself. LOL

wicked vamp: This chapter isn't exactly as heartbreaking and descriptive as I would have liked it to be, but don't worry, that part's going to come again soon. I just enabled anonymous reviews for your sister ;-)

valmontmerteuil: Glad you approve. Although who knows...? Sebastian might just come back... Stranger things have happened. ;-D

Nicole: You know, you're the very first person to have reviewed my very first story. Mucho thanks!

Chapter 1: Comin' Up From Behind

She's comin' up from, comin' up from, comin' up, comin' up from behind…

-Marcy Playground

Three years had passed since the disastrous chain of events that had ensued upon his favorite pair of twisted stepsiblings, and since then, Blaine had seldom seen any sign of the blond haired cocky asshole (despite the occasional purchases he made) or the petite green eyed little bitch that had caused a lot of trouble in the past. Sebastian, for the most part, had been tied down by June Cleaver from hell throughout the rest of their senior year at Manchester Prep while Kathryn had packed up and left for Europe without so much as a word to anyone. Even Sebastian had been puzzled along with everyone else, and he had known Kathryn the most. All this over a pretty little blond bitch by the name of Annette Hargrove, Blaine sighed. Even until now he couldn't see what on earth made Valmont choose her.

He supposed the real question was, was Sebastian happy with his choice?

Blaine Tuttle got the answer when he casually mentioned to him that he and Kathryn had been keeping in touch. Valmont's beautiful blue eyes had widened and even though he tried to downplay it, he still asked about Kathryn from time to time.

"So how is she?" he focused on lighting the joint, giving him a chance to avert his gaze.

"Cut the shit, Valmont, you know you miss her." The truth was, he had heard that oddly hopeful tone in Sebastian's voice and was really not in the mood to tolerate it... For the fortieth fucking time.

"Fuck you, Blaine."

"I'd love for you to do that."

This conversation went on each time Sebastian saw him, which was quite rare since the drug dealer knew how the missus had disapproved of his means for… Extra income. Sebastian Valmont and Annette Hargrove were both in their third year in Columbia, still being annoyingly loyal to each other. Sebastian had pursued a business course to please that old, fornicating father of his so he would be able to take over the family business when his old man croaks, but was clearly interested in photography after realizing that one of his former tools for seduction had grown on him. Blaine chuckled, remembering the incident when the blond asshole posted nude pictures of his therapist's daughter on the internet, after claiming that the red haired uptight woman had been overcharging him. Annette, (or Little Bo Beep, as Blaine called her, the very image of her pure morals and pink thoughts making him want to hurl) on the other hand was pursuing a course in pre-med and infuriatingly enough, is actually on scholarship. Which makes sense because she's so middle class with her prim clothing that probably dated back to when his mother wore it in her twenties… Blaine rolled his eyes. Things had indeed quieted down since the terrible two had gone their separate ways, but the peace was about to come to a fucking halt. Blaine could feel it and his instincts, honed by dodging the cops and successfully running a drug empire underneath the noses of his homophobic parents who'd had the grace to disown him with his trust fund intact, have never been wrong.

His phone rang, disturbing Blaine from counting the payment of a recent client. Cursing slightly from losing track, he fumbled with the sleek, silver remote of the recently purchased stereo equipment he'd bought himself as soon as Court Reynolds ordered enough roofies to date-rape an entire third world nation, and he wasn't talking about the female population in particular. With that amount, Court could even fuck every animal that existed, which, he wouldn't really be surprised if it happened. Kathryn had always said that Court's dick was so small he'd probably have to have his thighs amputated just so it would look an inch bigger. This was why he had shacked up with that brunette nitwit Cecile Caldwell, whose, until Valmont and Ronald's 'divine intervention', sexual experience had been less than zero. Both Blaine and Kathryn mused that he did this because Cecile probably wouldn't even know what a dick looked like, thus, sparing the handsome, albeit stupid senator's son from humiliation. Of course, that had changed since that fucking Disaster that Blaine would really rather forget about. Although now that he'd mentioned Cecile... The little horny bitch had miraculously turned into one of the most popular seniors at Manchester Prep, and she still banged the music teacher who, as Kathryn succinctly phrased it, 'Moved with the speed of a Special Olympics hurdler' both in bed in in real life. Not that Blaine had ever had the displeasure of trying, of course. Idealistic, romantic dipshits were really not his type.

Ah, Kathryn Merteuil, how he indeed missed the bitch, not only because she practically contributed to ten percent of his profits, but because things around here got so damn boring after she'd left. Really, if he had to listen one more time to Valmont's transparent raving about how stable his relationship was with the blond Mary Poppins, (yet he would always oh-so-casually ask how Kathryn was 'doing' (or should he say who?)) Blaine would probably smack him in the head with his very much cherished bong. And they say that drugs kill your brain cells, if that were indeed true, then why was he the only fucking person in the fucking world who saw how much Sebastian actually worried about his stepsister? Blaine had heard about the events that had transpired that day from his closet gay bedmate, and although he was mainly in bed with Gregory McConnell, (while the football stud couldn't spell to save his life, he actually did have a mouth like a hoover), he couldn't shake the grim feeling that the twisted duo had wasn't going to bitch and makeup just like the ten thousand other times they'd somehow screwed each other over.

Blaine Tuttle was the only person who saw how Sebastian had been traumatized and somewhat fucked up. He was the only one who knew how Sebastian would frequently check his cell phone for any overseas calls or how he'd searched Kathryn's room for any letter, or any damn thing that she'd left to explain her actions.

"It doesn't make any sense!" he'd complained, pacing Blaine's room with a cigarette between his pretty pink lips (the ones that Blaine would have probably given his right arm just to… Well, you get the idea) "She would have left me something! Anything just to tell me why she just left! Kathryn's not the type to pack up and leave, and besides, that fucking bitch didn't have the right to disappear like that. Doesn't she know that there are people who actually need her around? She's the president of the student council! Have you heard from her? Maybe Tiffany finally sent her off to the fucking convent just so she could get her gold digging hands into her trust fund, maybe she—"

"Valmont," Blaine's narrowed eyelids observed the silent, measured steps of the handsome blond. He wanted to tell him that if at that rate of walking, Sebastian would probably ruin his Prada leather shoes in no time. Besides, since when did the ill reputed playboy care about the student council of Manchester Prep?

"What!"

"Does your significant little blonde actually know you're here ranting and raving about Kathryn?"

Sebastian eyes focused on Blaine for a moment, "No."

"Then what's wrong with this picture?"

His naturally arched eyebrows (which Blaine had secretly tried to copy when he was thirteen and he'd realized he liked boys better but ended up with half his blond eyebrows shaved off) were knitted together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"This was what you wanted, isn't it? For the wicked witch to melt so you could be with Dorothy and have her hand down your little Tin Man while you poked around her lion?"

Sebastian scowled at his reply, but said nothing.

"Well, guess what, Sebastian. She's gone. Completely melted out of your peachy fucking keen lives. Now you can go to Pollyanna and think pretty and blue thoughts while holding hands and singing about how wonderful life is. Hey, if you're feeling extra happy, maybe you can even watch Barney together. You chose her, remember? You chose Annette even though you came back to Kathryn? And I believe the phrase was, 'She made me laugh.' You threw it all away for a chance to laugh? Why not hire a fucking clown? Fuck, Valmont, why are you acting this way?"

For once, Sebastian Valmont didn't say anything sarcastic or snide. For once, he didn't make any dumb faggot remarks or even rolled his blue eyes at Blaine's accurate use of logic.

"She betrayed me. I dumped Annette, didn't I? I dumped Annette but the bitch betrayed me." He finally spat, snarling at the memory of that fateful day. "Then she didn't even stay to watch me make a total ass out of myself. It's just not like her, Blaine."

Blaine would certainly agree to that. Knowing the two as long and as well as he had, Kathryn's departure was somewhat of a mystery. "Well, come to think of it. You losers backstab each other on a daily basis, but don't you see it, you moron? You took this stupid bet too far, you raised the stakes of your fucked up game and you won." Or lost, depending on your opinion. Blaine wanted to add, again wincing at the image of little Mary Poppins from Kansas. Christ. In no time she'd probably have Sebastian shucking corn while wearing overalls just for fun. "That's actually a concept that normal people are happy about."

Sebastian, however, didn't look happy.

His phone rang; the familiar ringing interrupted Sebastian's train of thought for something to reply his very brutally honest friend.

Blaine grabbed the cordless phone, "Hello?"

Sebastian paused, waiting for him to finish his conversation when Blaine said the word that made his jaw drop open.

"Kathryn." Blaine had chuckled, both at Sebastian's obvious reaction and at Kathryn's obliviousness at her stepbrother's presence in the same room.

"Let me talk to her!" Sebastian shoved Blaine and grabbed the phone from his hands.

"Hey!" he'd whined, but quickly sat back as the scowling imbecile before him barked into the phone. This should be interesting.

"Kathryn, why the fuck did you leave, you stupid—"

At the outraged, hurt, and shocked look on Sebastian's usually indifferent features, Blaine could only come to the conclusion that Kathryn had hung up on him.

"Fuck!" Valmont cursed, hurling the phone against the wall.

"What did you expect? That you were going to have a teary profession of love from her? That she'd say she misses you and she can't stand living without you? Newsflash, Valmont. That's Kathryn Merteuil you just spoke to. Expecting a few words about how you're being missed and cried over would be tantamount to expecting Tiffany Merteuil to shop at WalMart. Or me, for that matter" he added as an afterthought.

It was how Sebastian had looked at Blaine that surprised him, because if Blaine hadn't been too stoned to see, it was what Sebastian had actually been hoping for. If he didn't know better, that priceless look on Valmont's face was actually that of dashed hope.

As he finally pressed the volume, the music died down somewhat, and the persistent shrill ring of the black cordless phone that lay somewhere in the middle of a pile of dirty clothing and condom wrappers continued until he finally found it.

"Hello?" he huffed, mildly irritated at the fact that he probably touched a used condom in there and the top of his hand felt strangely and disgustingly cold and wet. Fucking housekeepers. Fucking men. Did they not realize that the fucking wastebasket near his table had a purpose?

"How's my favorite fairy?"

Blaine smiled, it wasn't everyday he heard that calm, frosty voice New York had been missing for years. His annoyed attitude lightened somewhat, "Hey princess, fucked anyone recently?"

His snarky response merited a real chuckle, "Just an hour ago, actually. Parisians have great stamina."

"Your brother was just here a couple of hours ago, buying pot." Blaine wiped the back of his hand on his shirt while balancing the phone with his chin.

She snickered, "And did Annette give him a new leash or is the old one still intact?"

"He asked about you again."

She remained quiet, obviously thinking of a sarcastic response but came up with nothing. Blaine was reminded of the time when Sebastian had been the same, geez, these two really were alike. Just when he thought she was going to abruptly hang up, she said the four words that made him smile.

"I'm coming back, Blaine."

Just like that, the fucked up gods who watched over the of the Upper East Side youth roared in triumphant laughter. They had given Annette Hargrove enough time to be happy and New York years to mellow out. It was time for something to happen again.

"Just in time." He commented, leaning against the headrest of his leather recliner. "I was starting to get bored."

Leave a review! Hahaha! I'm open to suggestions, since I'm usually more of a one-shot story kinda gal. Thanks for taking the time to read!