A/N: Back and better than ever. Sorry but the delay, my friends, but it's been a hectic weekend. I'm not out of school yet, and for those of us lucky (note sarcasm here) enough to live in Massachusetts have to take the MCAS exams.

Which I should be studying for. But I'm not. Because I figure, I spend all year studying, I can breeze through this test. Which I totally can.

Thanks for all the reviews, my friends!

Anyways, enough chat about me. This chapter is from…ROMAN HOLIDAY. Chuck was not in this episode, so I suppose I'll have to be inventive again. I so hate having to think for myself. ;)

"Hear those Silver Bells? It is Christmas time in the city."

1x11: Roman Holiday

Chuck was in hiding. He admitted it. He had put up the pretense of leaving, even going as far as to buy a ticket to Morocco and go to the airport, but hadn't gotten on the plane. Now he was hidden in one of his father's hotels, where he had gotten a room using the fake ID that declared his name to be Christopher Hayden.

He groaned, downing another Scotch, studiously ignoring his cell phone as it listed the seven missed calls from Blair.

He was hiding from her, from Nate, even from his father. The only thing worse than getting your heart broken, mused Chuck, was being around people in love.

Which, he was surprised to realize, his father was.

He groaned again when his cell phone beeped—he had received yet another text message from Blair—and picked up the offending object angrily. He briefly considered throwing it at the wall, but though better of it when he figured out a way to make Blair absolutely crazy.

His lips curled into a smirk as he entered a text message—only 1 question: how did u fake ur virginity for N?—and sent it. No one, no one, made a Bass fall in love and got away with it.

Especially not Blair Waldorf, bitch princess of the Upper East Side.

Said bitch princess was currently wavering between frantically checking her cell phone for messages and watching in apprehension as her father and Roman cuddled together. The two men were trying to be subtle, but Blair appreciated the sentiment as they all sat at the dinner table.

"Blair, honey, the faster you eat, the faster we can open presents." Her father implored. She smiled sheepishly, taking a bite, feeling extremely self-conscious.

Her phone chose that exact moment to vibrate, and she smiled apologetically towards the three adults seated at the table. She read the text message, her heart falling, and tears of anger began to blur her eyes.

She shoved the phone back at the table, standing abruptly. "Will you excuse me for a minute." It was less of a request than a statement. Eleanor nodded gracefully, and Blair looked apologetically towards Roman and her father. She stalked upstairs, carefully not to stomp and risk her parents becoming aware of her increasing anger.

She closed the door, incensed, and glared at the phone in her hand.

Lost in thought for a few minutes, she considered her options. She could: (a) lie if Chuck ever told Nate, (b) move out of the country and live for the rest of her life in France as a trophy wife to some millionaire, or (c) confront Chuck and end this.

She tapped a perfectly manicured finger against her lips, making her decision. She flipped open her phone, pressing speed dial "3"—Serena was "2" and Nate had been bumped down to "4" after the break-up, and Blair hadn't bothered to change her phone again—and tapping her foot impatiently as it rang.

For some reason, eighth time was the charm. Chuck's unmistakable voice rang through the speaker of the cell phone. "Waldorf, what the fuck do you want?" His voice sounded resigned.

Blair paid no attention to the greeting, launching straight into a monologue.

"You, Chuck Bass, are the most arrogant, assuming asshole in New York City. You think I slept with Nate for kicks? No. I slept with him because when you ruined my debutante ball, I knew you didn't care about me. And Nate does. He's sweet, he's polite, he's met my mother, he doesn't sleep with other women." She was practically screaming now. "He doesn't make sexual passes towards every woman he sees."

"Are you done?" He asked tiredly. She opened her mouth to respond, but he beat her to it. "Of course not, because you're Blair Waldorf. Now, it's your turn. However, this conversation will work better face-to-face and while inebriated, so drink up and I'll be there in five."

The line went dead, and Blair stared at her phone, shocked, wondering how he was going to get here in five minutes when he was apparently in Morocco, land of a thousand blondes.

Five minutes later, Blair heard a knock on her bedroom door. Finishing off her martini, she stood up, pulling the door open. There, in all of his splendor, was Chuck, adorned in his trademark scarf.

He strode into the room. "I'm drunk." He explained. "And that will make this conversation easier.

"I'm Chuck Bass." He continued, glaring at Blair accusingly. "I. Do. Not. Fall. In. Love."

"Okay…" said Blair, confused, closing the door. "Thank you, Bass, for clearing that up."

Chuck steadied himself. "Let me rephrase. I did not fall in love. And then you come along. All…" he tried to find the words. "…innocent and gorgeous and wild. And fun. And then you went running back to Nate. Was I supposed to be happy that you broke my heart?"

"I—what?" Blair couldn't process the information. "Broke your heart? But…you're Chuck Bass…"

"You think I don't know that?" hissed Chuck.

"Well, it's possible you could have forgotten it." said Blair tartly. "How much have you been drinking?"

"Not enough." Responded Chuck mischievously, looking around hopefully.

Chuck looked so lost, sitting on her bed, that Blair's heart broke a little bit. She sat next to him and kissed him softly, and when she pulled away, he looked shocked and a little bit hopeful.

"For the record…" she whispered. "You were a lot better than Nate."

(sigh) I didn't like this episode. Can you tell?

Love you all, and see you on the reviews page!

Zoe