Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck and Blair. They are too perfect for that.

Thanks to all my reviewers. I appreciate your comments so much because they inspire my writing.

A huge dedication to Maritza because she's flaw-free and speaks Spanish - Eiffel Tower of love for my beta Liz, Dr. Holland because she has made me push my writing so much with her flawless positivity.

Chapter 4

La Rôtisserie du Beaujolais, the beautiful restaurant narrowly nestled on the Quai de la Tournelle, was known to Chuck among her dearest, as her favorite. Fittingly so, he mused, since the Pont de la Tournelle, a short adjacent distance from it, led into Ile St Louis – city of light in bursts of glory, day and night, Seine River underneath.

Chuck sat absently sipping a drink of water - waiting – patiently fingering the tablecloth that fell around his lap in a rumple. He was anxious to see her, and massaging the cloth under his finger had brought a temporary quell to the creep of anxiety that bubbled in his pores.

He was anxious to see her. It had been almost two weeks since he saw her last. And everything then had been beautiful and picturesque, and was supposed to have stayed that way. Except, he was supposed to have come last Friday to pick her up for dinner. It was a date! He had promised her, swelled her hopes, painted the perfect imagery of them – You, Me, and Paris, like one of those Audrey movies that made her dream la vie en rose.

It was supposed to be have had been incroyable, magnifique, when he would have landed on her stoop seven days ago, Armani oxfords, cologne, sleek black stretch limo in tow. However, today was another Friday, seven days past, and last Friday hadn't happened. He had called and sent a very-very large bouquet of peonies and a new invitation to dinner five days later when he had come to his senses. And she had responded yes, without huff and puff. He had been surprised but figured for no other reason than to rip his head off in a crowded restaurant. The Blair he knew did enjoy exacting social humiliation, and he had a lot of explaining to do. So yes, he was anxious to see her, quite nervous to see her.

His anxiety however, was also of the good variety. He was incredibly happy to see her again. He had missed her face, the tangibility of her presence, her beauty and banter. He had missed the fill of her existence terribly. And he would have come to pick her up last Friday if he didn't love her so much. But that was the problem, his tragedy. He loved her so much. The sunset of Paris compared to her, he loved her more. His future against her and he loved her more. It seemed his father was right even if he would hate to admit Bart was right about anything. But it was true. He loved her more than anything.

So he had stayed away, until now, a great deal for his sake.

When the clock had struck the nineteenth hour and Chuck hadn't shown up in his crisp white shirt and white gold cufflinks to lead her off into the sunset of Paris on that beautiful Friday, Blair had been disappointed but she had been far from dismayed. She had waited hopefully until 10 PM for him to arrive, and upon retiring to bed that night, when Cyrus and Eleanor had offered her pitiful looks, she had shooed them away with a deathly scowl. "Loving a powerful man is not for the faint at heart," she excused. "Powerful men have a lot of business to attend to."

She figured he would show up someday, eventually. Paris wasn't going anywhere. They would always have Paris. And she would always have him. Did she even have him?

However, in the tranquility and solitude of her bed, Blair had allowed herself to be saddened over the fact that he didn't get to see her in the beautiful silk Giambattista Valli which had hugged her curves so tightly she was sure it would have made Chuck reconsider. Whatever was up with him wanting to wait as some sort of statement about proving his maturity? Blair would nod her head in agreement or hum her "Yes, Chuck you're right" but the moment she would hang up the phone she would scoff of the thought. She was done talking to him about it. Likewise, she found she did relish the sinful idea of seducing him, so she had her angle – making him do bad things against his better judgment because she kind of had that power. Whether or not she and Chuck were having sex, he made her feel powerful in that way, in the way that they could take each other to reckless heights with so little effort. He would not be able to resist her no matter how hard he tried, simply because it was just plain stupidity and torture to deliberately try and resist each other. She was even prepared to tease him about it, knowing what his manly reaction would be upon seeing her dress. But Alas! She sighed.

Equally as disappointed she had been upon realizing that she would not have had his ear to talk off as she laid in bed that night. So much had been happening with Waldorf Designs and of course she had wanted to hear all about his South American adventures. He would have come back a little bit dusted in bronze, the thought occurred to her and a serious dreamful pout crossed her face. She wanted to melt her creamy face into the muscles of his tanned shoulders and kiss the soreness away. It would have made her happy.

Chuck dared send her flowers a shameful five days later, an apology card - forgive me, I've been busy -, and a new invitation to dinner for the following Friday. Blair had been heartbroken but this had made her furious. The offense of it, she had not been able to put into words. Not even a call? Not even some fine Ladurée? She had been readily scratching a 'No' into the white sheet of paper until she'd realized how immensely more satisfying it would be to say 'Yes'. 'Yes' meant that she could actually scratch his eyes off in person. She tiredly sighed the ambiguity of whether he was actually hers to scratch off.

As her fury subsided with the passing hours, apprehension had settled inside of Blair's stomach. Fury had honestly only felt like a misplaced emotion in her heart. And as Blair finished clasping her jewelry around her neck and taking a final glance at herself in the mirror, she didn't feel she was angry with Chuck. She had quietly resigned to the pardonable thought that he had been busy, like she had been busy, and he simply didn't have any time to make it to Paris last week. It was no big deal, and - regardless - here he was in Paris, with reservations for two at her favorite restaurant, trying to make it up to her.

En route, she smiled fondly at the memory of when he had called the next day after the flowers, much to her surprise, to tell her which restaurant he had picked – her favorite. Yes, he had picked her favorite restaurant and yes he had called, so she probably wouldn't be scratching his eyes out of their sockets anymore tonight. And he had also apologized, a very sheepish and adoring yet vague apology. However, she had been too entranced by the sound of his voice to remember informing him of how upset she had been a few hours earlier. The discord that would have ensued - maybe how she was handling it was best. Telling someone you're going to bet on them, you don't actually know what you mean until you have to prove it. Sigh! It was a brand new Friday night. It was water under the bridge, like the Seine under La Tournelle, as she crossed.

Upon entering the restaurant, she spied him sitting in the familiar far off corner, their corner, - he remembered - and her heart popped with elation at the fond memory. She approached the table and he got up to pull her chair out for her before he resumed his own.

Chuck's gaze was locked in hers for a meaningful moment before he turned to fix it on the glass of water in front of him, which he studied long and deep, a little bit of his fear and anxiety evidenced through his eyes, and Blair caught it.

"I don't bite," she cajoled defensively when he finally decided to look up again, a bit of teasing laced in her voice.

"But you have claws," he countered. He placed both his elbows on the table to tuck them under his chin. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, but I understand you've been busy," she replied by way of explanation. She offered him a tight flat smile but he just continued to stare at her expectantly.

"If I didn't want to come, I would have said no. Anyway, I've been busy enough myself to have empathy for our situation. I'm not mad at you Chuck."

"Why though?" he demanded, averting his eyes to the floor. "You have every reason to be."

"Maybe because we're working on things, and the last thing I want to do is fight with you." Blair gave Chuck an intent look, the message in which she had already conveyed with her soft spoken tone. She raised her own glass of water to gulp a sip down her dry throat.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I should have at least called in advance to tell you I wasn't coming."

"Or the next day," she offered pitifully and blew the air out of her cheek in a huff. "Or texted."

Chuck couldn't resist the chuckle that escaped him as he watched Blair roll her eyes dramatically at the suggestion.

His eyes followed from her face down to her neck. He stared long at the beautiful curve of her ear and the dimples that were now dented into her cheeks, her lips stretched into a flat line as she stared back at him.

"Oh! I got you something," he exclaimed, perking up as he abruptly came back from his deep thoughts.

He reached into his pocket and gingerly pulled out a little square leather case, handing it over to her.

"You know you can't always buy me gifts right? They don't balm my pain forever," Blair said as she received the smooth material in the palm of her hands.

"I didn't get you this because I'm sorry," Chuck corrected her sweetly. "I bought it because I thought it was beautiful and it reminded me of you – just so happens to coincide with the fact that I am sorry."

Blair quirked her lips up to one side in anticipation as she opened the leather case to reveal a beautiful emerald-cut platinum necklace studded with diamonds and an opal stone at the center of the pendant. She sighed appreciatively as her eyes examine the piece of jewelry.

"It's beautiful."

"Whenever I go anywhere, somehow I can't help wanting to buy you something," Chuck explained. "Simply the thought of bringing it home to you makes it bearable to stay as long as I have to."

"That's really sweet, Chuck," Blair gushed as she ran her fingers over the beautiful stone that was flickering its brilliance back into her eyes.

"By the way, you look beautiful tonight," Chuck said sweetly. He reached a hand out to rub the knuckles of her left hand that was elongated over the table, seeking just a little bit of physical contact with her.

Blair pulled her hand out momentarily to close the leather case before depositing it on the table next to her dish. She then reached both of her hands out over the table to Chuck whom gently entwined them with his own.

"Hmm," she hummed the delight of the sensation, "I blame Paris."

"Well, it agrees with you," Chuck flattered her, stroking the back of her hand affectionately.

"Not as much as Argentina agrees with you," she countered. "You put every man in this building to shame."

"You must really like you gift. Huh?"

"Well I do," Blair agreed, rubbing her thumb over his gratefully, "but it is true. You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen."

"I thought Nate was your Prince Charming," he prompted, clearing his throat.

"I never belonged in fairytales," Blair countered," but if I did, you'd be my dark knight and no prince would be able to hold a candle to you."

At that, Chuck couldn't help the wide grin that overtook his face. He had never truly struggled with his appearance. Women had always wanted him but only Blair had ever managed to make him feel gooey, fluttering things with her compliments.

She reached up one hand to cup the side of his face, wiping at the grin on his cheek. Chuck flipped her hand over and kissed it.

Their sweet moment was crudely interrupted by the arrival of their waitress who gracefully swayed to their table balancing to silver domes, one in each hand. She smiled down at the couple as she placed the food in front of them. Then, excusing herself once more, she walked back in the direction of the kitchen. "Second course in few minutes" she informed in her broken English.

"Tell me about Argentina," Blair announced a while later when they were alone. "I thought you would have come back all tanned and speaking Spanish."

"Yo hablo Español, Blair," Chuck said perfunctorily and earned a taunting giggle from her.

"But it is winter in Argentina now, summer was about six months ago."

"I know," Blair winced dramatically at her memory lapse, "but I never seem to remember that fact."

"So what happened with your poker games?" she continued.

"We lost, we won," Chuck offered vaguely. "Jack made a lot of female acquaintances," he added jokingly, stressing a little harder on the last word for its double entendre.

Chuck and Blair shared a hearty laugh at the confession. The sleaziness of Jack Bass never ceased to amaze her. "Well, he wouldn't be Jack Bass if he didn't."

"So, how are things going with Waldorf Designs?" Chuck said upon recovering from his laughter, his tone turning serious. "Any major developments this summer?"

"Oh plenty!" Blair proclaimed, her spirits suddenly animated. "I'm learning so much going to the atelier every day. We're currently lining up the spring/summer prêt-á-porter collection, so there's a lot of work to do. Mother and I have also been interviewing designers. There's a promising bunch, but we haven't made any decisions yet. I'm eying two of them specifically. Seems like I have an eye not just for taste but for fashion after all," she finished with a dreamy sigh.

"How can you be surprised? Have you seen your closet?"

"Most of which, I now realize, is endowed by you," Blair retorted.

"Well, you know I'm a giver," Chuck said teasingly, raising an eyebrow at her and mirroring the smirk on her face.

"In more ways than one," she acquiesced suggestively.

"You know, I really do enjoy this enterprise," Blair continued, returning to her food, which she had not eaten any bit of, simply stirred aimlessly around her plate. "I hadn't known just how much I was made for fashion. I used to believe my mother was inattentive to my sensibilities, but she's known me better than even myself this whole time… Or maybe she got to know me better recently and picked up quick. But it's like we're bonding on a whole new level."

"Well I'm happy to hear that," Chuck offered sincerely. "I know Eleanor loves you very much."

"Hardly as much as she loves you," Blair tempted.

"What!"

"Don't pretend like you didn't win her over with all your tea talk and world travels."

"What are you saying-"

"And Cyrus won't shut up about your philanthropy. I think they may want to adopt you," Blair taunted him further.

"Oh I'd be so honored!" Chuck lit up with a smile, putting a hand over his heart.

Blair simply gave him possibly the most terrifying death glare of his life.

"Incest is frowned upon, Chuck."

Laughter erupted on Chuck's end and soon Blair had joined in. They didn't stop laughing until the next course had been served. The conversation was flowing between them as was the wine. Chuck had picked up on his Spanish and was teasing Blair, enjoying the little bit of difficulty she had at times catching up to him. But Blair caught up to him pretty fast and switched into Polish, little of which Chuck understood and shrugged his shoulders at her in confusion. Blair stuck her tongue out at him in victory. Chuck just laughed at her.

Then, dessert was served and it was Chuck's favorite part. He could actually watch Blair eat. As she spun her spoon into the delectable spongy substance, she scooped it into her mouth. She hummed and licked her lips. He could watch the slow pulse of her throat after each spoonful. On occasion, he could see her eyes flutter closed as she savored the delicacy. Chuck was glad to pay for dinner - after that demonstration. As they exited the restaurant, a valet brought around a town car. Chuck opened the door for his queen to step in before he lowered his body into the leather cushion as well.

"I'm in the mood for a walk," Blair said as they were crossing over the bridge into the 4th arrondissement. She had been dreamily peering out the window ever since they had gotten in the car. And as she passed the pedestrians gaily going about their evening, she had had the sudden desire to have the wind in her hair. The sky was a blanket of twinkling stars appliquéd to deep midnight velvet and Blair wanted to stretch her hands out at them. The driver pulled over at the beak of the bridge and Chuck held out his hand for his queen to step out of her carriage. She handed him the leather jewelry case to put back into his pocket.

"That's what I'm talking about," she sighed appreciatively as the cool air of the night smoothed over her face. "You, me and Paris - the car was kind of getting in the way."

Chuck smiled at her.

"What do you want to do?" he asked and looked over the beautiful scenery. The night hung over them thickly, but the artificial lights glittered like particles of life and – the people – such lively, musical people.

"Anything you want to do," Blair offered generously, letting the scene captivate her senses as well.

A pleased smile graced his face as Chuck pondered a moment the endless possibility of things he and Blair could do in Paris. Not only were they in Paris, the city wherein borne all dreams and fantasies, but they weren't just anyone in Paris. She was Blair Waldorf and he was Chuck Bass and he had access to places she could never even dream of.

However, this moment with Blair was all he needed. He just wanted to be close to her.

"I've never walked over this bridge before," he suggested.

Blair turned to look at him, a disbelieving mug on her face. Chuck Bass, world-travelled connoisseur of everything, had never walked the Pont de la Tournelle. She was suddenly very-very up to it.

"Not in five inch heels," she warned, "but I have."

He fussed. "Oh Fashion!" he whined, "too much the downside of spontaneity." He wrapped an arm around Blair's shoulder, offering his frame for support as they started walking across the bridge.

"No, I'll walk," Blair affirmed, nudging him as she started crisscrossing her strides playfully. "If my feet start hurting, I'll just take off my shoes."

"But then you'll have dirt under your feet," Chuck explained with a hint of concern.

Blair chuckled. She thought it was beyond adorable when he behaved like this but she reassured him. "Once in a while, you have to do something dirty in Paris."

You have to do all of the most unimaginable things you could never do anywhere else, in Paris.

"Well, if that doesn't work, I'll carry you home." He looked at her pointedly - then giving a light squeeze to her shoulder with the crook of his elbow, he placed a kiss in her hair.

Blair's heart bumbled at the romantic gesture. She was mentally, softly stroking the image in her head.

"Over the bridge, all the way home?" she prompted incredulously though she was flattered with the offer. "You couldn't. Your arms would get tired."

"Not for you, Blair. Over the bridge, all the way home," he drawled with a smile.

Blair gave him a challenging raise of her eyes, but he just pulled her in closer and hugged her tighter.

.

'What are you thinking about?" She asked him after a minute.

"Bass Industries," he replied curtly, unable to find any desire to lie to her in the moment.

"Why are you thinking about Bass Industries when you're in Paris and it's a beautiful night out?" she nagged, but her voice was laced with tenderness and Chuck understood why she would admonish him for entertaining his woes on such a beautiful, carefree evening with her.

"Because it's my future," he replied simply, matter-of-factly, but Blair heard the sorrow that carried through his voice at admitting it.

"How do you know that?"

"Because it's the only thing I've ever envisioned myself doing," he replied, "and it's the only place I've ever really worked to prove myself."

"Don't worry. You've proven yourself with me," she assured him. But was that even enough? "You won't want to be like your father, Chuck. You don't want to play his games. His legacy doesn't have to be your entire future. Maybe you should find someone else to aspire to."

She looked over at him compassionately and stroked his face gently with her thumb before she moved her hand up to rake his hair back, the familiar, yet unfamiliar gesture making her heart lap in a spiral.

"I built up this legacy," Chuck explained. "I don't have anything else." His shoulders rose and slumped in a shrug before he continued. "I never had anyone to take me under their wings, like you have your mother, Blair."

"I'm sorry," She offered sadly. "I realize how lucky I am. I wish you had someone like that."

"She's really someone great to aspire to," Chuck returned as he steeled himself to change the subject from his daddy issues to putting the focus on Blair.

"And the older I get, the more I aspire to be like her," Blair confessed. "She's the powerful woman I want to be."

"I'm really happy for you," Chuck told her, rubbing his hand over the side of her arm affectionately as they proceeded in a slow cadence. "You seem to be coming into your own."

"I am," Blair perked up in agreement. "I had it all wrong before. If I may rehash, I think my relationship with Louis has taught me one thing."

"Yes…" he prompted her, the mention of her ex-husband's name suddenly piquing his curiosity.

"I had been setting myself up for failure," she elaborated. "I was too envious of your power; I forgot how to harness my own."

Chuck turned her around in his arms to face him, looking profoundly into her dangerous orbs.

"What do you mean?"

"All along, I wanted to be a powerful woman because I wanted to be equal with you. And I pushed you away many times because I was afraid of falling in your shadow."

"Blair I'm sorr-"

Her hand swiftly came up in the air, stopping his apology mid sentence.

"You gave me the world stage on a silver platter, Chuck." She held up his chin, looking deeper into his eyes so he could see the honesty that was pooling in hers. "The only times you pushed me were because you knew I was capable of pushing back. I just couldn't grasp it. Being a powerful woman is not about being the editor of Vogue Paris or winning an Oscar. A queen cannot be weak and I was," she quaked on the last few words.

Chuck shook his head vehemently in protest, looking for the right words to undo what she had just done but Blair spoke up before he did.

"Not when I was in high school…but after, when I wasn't queen anymore…." A little trepidation resonated in her voice but he looked at her reassuringly and she found the strength to continue.

"Blair-"

"My title was my power, and when I lost it, I fell hard and then I just kept falling. And then I needed something to validate me - my relationship with you, my sacrifices for you." she sighed almost in a weak sob, bobbing her head incredulously at her youthful naïveté. "I didn't realize, power is not a title to sport on myself, it's something inside of who I am that cannot be validated by the vanities around me.

"At NYU, at W, my marriage to Louis, I sought powerful positions. But watching my mother has made me realize, being a woman in a powerful position is not the same thing as being a powerful woman. I couldn't accept that we were equals all along because we weren't in the same positions. However, I now realize how wrong I was."

"Blair, you know I've never stopped thinking you were powerful," Chuck reassured.

"Well, just like the saying goes, it's not you, it was me. I was the problem," Blair responded in a much more hopeful tone - teasingly pushing back his shoulder as she did so, "See?"

"But, I'm really sorry," she added. "I let this cost me my relationship with you and now we aren't even together and I have no idea when we will be."

"Don't you think it kills me that we aren't together?" Chuck spoke up suddenly, feeling a pang of sadness across his chest at Blair's mournful words.

Blair shook her head at him incredulously, removing his hand from her shoulder and stepping away from him. "Then stop insisting that we aren't," she spat. "What's the big deal about saying we're back together?"

"Because just saying it won't fix anything. It'll only make everything worse." Chuck spat back just as harshly.

He looked up at the sky then, his eyes searching for the answer he desperately needed. The answer that must be written in the twinkling constellations above, because it wasn't anywhere else he looked - not in her face, not when he looked at himself in the mirror.

"It kills me that I'm not okay when I look at you," he ground out, every ounce of his frustration rushing to the end of his nerves. "And it kills me when I want to just pretend to be okay because, I look at you and all I want is you, but everything IS NOT OKAY."

Sad,was the word but it wasn't enough. Chuck was devastated.

"I'm sorry," Blair whimpered, tentatively walking to bring her body closer to him.

"We both are, and still that's not enough," Chuck shrugged. "I want something from you that you don't have."

"What is it?" Blair demanded, surprised at his open display of feelings.

"I don't know," Chuck murmured, "but if you had it I would know."

"Do you not believe that I'm sorry? Is that it?"

"I think that's part of it," Chuck nodded his head dejectedly, "not that I don't believe you. Just that I can't, there's - there's something stopping me."

"What could be stopping you?" Blair demanded. "Do you not want to be with me?

"…We're not even together because you don't even want to be with me." Blair turned on her heels, throwing her hands up agitatedly. "That's what it is."

"No," Chuck hissed, turning to watch her back as she paced absently on the sidewalk. "You're putting words in my mouth, Blair. I never said that."

"No, you don't want to be with me. That's why you don't want to have sex-" she spat accusingly.

"Blair, don't say that."

"This whole time, you've been saying how we have to wait because it's going to be so special. Bullshit! That's not us, Chuck. Are we ten? You've always wanted me, and now I have to push you to want me and accept the fact that you stood me up for dinner because you didn't care that much."

She stopped her pacing and turned to look at him, her face hardening with her disappointment and disdain.

"I did care," Chuck defended. "But as far as keeping the 'Us' that we could be at a distance, I have my reasons and you know it."

"Yes, because this is a game to you. And here you are holding your scoreboard and keeping a tally of reasons?" Blair threw her hands up dramatically. "Are you kidding me?"

"You said that you would fight for me, something has to keep you honest," He retorted gravely.

"You just want to punish me a little because I hurt you. Right, Chuck? The cycle never ends."

"I'm not punishing you," he corrected, his voice small and laced with the hoarseness of restrained sobs. "If anything, I'm punishing myself. I'm sacrificing the things I want for the things I need."

"But why?" she asked sadly, startled by his confession. "How will we ever be anything if you don't need me?"

"I do need you," he reassured, "but I need more than you, you said you understood."

"But we can have everything if you let me in," She coaxed. "We can build our futures together."

Chuck raised his head in her direction, catching her beautiful face staring back at him painfully, exchanging her bereavement with his own. If only it was so easy. Her glossy round orbs were begging him to believe it, but he had to remember it simply wasn't so.

"I had told myself the same things for months," he said. "Those days when I had it all, except - for you. I thought if you just came back to me, I'd be so happy that everything would magically be fixed because I would be overcome with happiness and everything else you give me. I had thought maybe all I needed back in my life was you and there was a time when I was so desperate to believe it-"

"But then your father-" Blair already put it together in her mind.

"No." he shook his head. "You know I could care less what my father thinks of me anymore. However, I realized I need to be happy for myself. I spent so much time being consumed with what made YOU happy that I neglected my own happiness...

"…If I'm not looking out for myself, I realize no one else is looking out for me."

"Chuck, I never stopp—"

"Blair, please," he cut her off mid sentence. He didn't want to hear the rest. It would only upset him more.

"Chuck, I didn't do any of it to hurt you," Blair cried.

Did she not understand how admitting that would only upset him more? She had done all of it deliberately and rubbed it in his face, and now she wanted to apologize?

"What difference does it make?" Chuck could only shake his head at her disbelievingly.

"If you accept that I'm sorry, we can move forward." She walked to stand in front of him, taking his hand into her palm and sliding her fingers between his. But he withdrew from the physical contact, removing his hand from her grasp and putting it inside his pocket.

"It isn't as easy as that. It isn't so easy to just forget." He walked away from her.

"What about being mature?" she shouted after him as he stopped a few feet away. "Leaving the past in the past, and how lucky we are to have found each other again." Her fingers bent into quotation marks to mock him. "Those were your words."

"And I meant them," he defended, "and I'm making the effort. But you should have never told me you didn't love me anymore. You broke my heart while I never got it back and it's left me completely vulnerable to you. I can't face that without fear. Some days I do trust you, Blair, and I want to pour all my love into you with unrestrained passion, but other times I just want to run away before I lose everything."

"I didn't mean it when I said that. I told you I was running away," she said firmly. "I have never stopped being in love with you, but what about me, Chuck? I'm completely vulnerable to you too. I trust that you won't hurt me but you have that capability."

"Did you come back to me because that's what you really wanted or was it because you had no other options?" Chuck asked seriously, now staring her down.

"I told you I was following my heart, and it led me to you."

"Humphrey," he spat, "had nothing to do with it." It was more of a declaration than a question but Blair knew she needed to say something.

"Is this really what this is about?" she cried out, "Dan, whom I told you I didn't love?"

"Blair, you say a lot of things."

"That morning," he continued, looking away to avoid her piercing stare. "I asked you point blank if you had anything else you wanted to tell me and you walked away from me. And then it seemed like only when the diary blasts crumbled your safety net 'with him' did you come back to me."

"What about that night in Monaco!" Blair challenged back, "You said you loved me. You said you wanted to work on things. You told me how happy you were that I came to find you. I thought you wanted to give me a chance."

"I did mean all those things and I am giving you a chance, Blair."

"Not anything like the chances I gave you. Those were like freebies," She shot back with a little bit of venom.

"Well, we're not supposed to be keeping score with how many chances we give each other," Chuck sputtered, frustrated. "We're supposed to avoid having to ask for them."

"Why won't you just forgive me?" Blair implored, a tinge of desperation coloring her voice and Chuck felt her cry bang against the wall of his heart. But as much as she was hurting, sadly, he was hurting too.

"Why didn't you just think of me once all those time you were moving on?" He demanded. "Besides, I have forgiven you. But how was I supposed to give you something you never even asked for?"

He chanced a look in her direction, his eyes landing upon the most pitiful thing he had ever seen. He wasn't about to feel sorry for her now, she felt sorry enough for herself. When she caught his eyes, suddenly her features tightened into an inscrutable expression. He gave her a hard glare and then resumed speaking.

"You only seemed to care that we were back together," he chided her. "I wondered what was most important to you, my heart, or your rebound sex?"

Blair was livid in an instant. How dare he? She walked over to him and pushed at his shoulder roughly in admonishment.

"You know what's most important to me," she spat, offended.

"Frankly Blair, I don't," Chuck returned and the sincerity of his brutal words cut through Blair like a dagger.

She just couldn't argue against it, he was right.

"Two month ago, someone else had been what was most important to you and you even threw a 'salon' to rub it in my face."

"That's enough, Chuck!" Blair reprimanded commandingly. "I can't believe you're being so insecure about Dan."

"This is NOT about Dan." His voice was barely above a whisper though she heard it in a roar. "I don't care about Humphrey. This is about you. This is why I can't even…"

"You can't even what, Chuck?"

"Look at me," Blair commanded as she grabbed his face and pierced him all the way into his soul with the unforgiving blades of her eyes. "What can't you do, Chuck?"

"It isn't fair to me," he spat forcefully at her, "because I will NEVER want another woman the way I want you. My heart will never NOT be yours. Why did you do that to me?"

The sobs where coming now and he couldn't help them. He could only turn away from her.

It was horrible, like a ten pound slap across the face. At least Blair would have preferred it to the feeling of unfathomable regret at having been a cold hard bitch to the only man she ever loved.

"I have to live with the regret of it everyday, but…" she sniffed, looking him meaningfully in the eyes. This time her commanding tone had drowned in guilt and it was a soft plea that quaked out of her throat. "…I'm here now. Take me back," she begged. "I just want to be with you. Take a bet on me like I did for you."

Yes, she had pushed a button, because, instantly Chuck felt the wall of his heart start to crumble at the sight of her in front of him. It wasn't pity or resignation. It was forgiveness and love. Those words had triggered him. He had led a crusade with Blair and this was the final battle. She had fought against him at times, but in a weird convoluted way, she had always been fighting for him - against herself, against him, for him. She had pushed him away because she had been so afraid of losing him.

And that day, when she had come to Monaco and she had braved social humiliation for him. And he had asked her to wait, and until now, she was waiting for him. He remembered the postcard she had sent him, how he had thought her words were so endearing and so courageous. He knew she had meant them as genuinely as she knew how. That was the only thing he was sure of, about her. He only feared that it was not so certain that she would always mean them.

However, she had broken through to him and Chuck had needed a few minutes to gather himself.

"If you need more time to get over everything, you can tell me," she told him tentatively. "And if you don't want to be together right now, I understand. You can come find me whenever you're ready. I told you I would wait however long it takes, I meant that." She assured him honestly.

She took his hands in hers once more, rubbing patterns, flipped his palms, holding four digits in a hook. She played with their fingers a little then brought his hand up to kiss it affectionately, making Chuck's head swim at the gesture.

"I just want you to be honest with me and not just stand me up for a whole week because of your conflicting emotions." She confessed squarely.

"Believe it or not," Chuck confessed in turn, "I'm angrier with myself than I am with you."

"Why?" she asked sweetly.

"The process of forgiveness - takes longer to forgive myself than it takes to forgive you. What I need is not time as much as it is honesty. If I was honest with you and myself from the beginning, I wouldn't have been trying to run away."

"Old habits," she sighed.

"Fresh start?" he offered hopefully.

Blair nodded her head happily like a little schoolgirl.

"For everything, I forgive you. You forgive me. There should have never been any hesitation of us committing to each other. I don't ever want you to doubt my love for you. Forget what I said to you at Cece's funeral like it never happened. You are my one and only. Do you believe me?"

Chuck nodded his head at her in understanding.

"No, I want to hear you say it," she demanded.

"I believe you."

"I believe that."

"Put your arms around me," Blair requested after a while as they were walking once again side by side. "I need something to hoist my weight. It was not so fun standing in five-inch heels arguing for half an hour."

"No, I agree." Chuck nodded. "It's not so fun standing on a bridge arguing with your girlfriend," he said, a smirk appearing on his features.

"Chuck, what did you just say?"

"Something about standing on a bridge-"

"You know that's not what I meant."

"You meant the part about you being my girlfriend," he teased her. "What's so surprising about that?"

Blair rolled her eyes at him with the fire of all the Basstard that he was. How could he tease her like that? He simply was the most infuriating human being she'd ever known. The capability he had to break her and grind her into ashes or puddles of tears, yet he possessed tenfold the capability to make her happy – so HAPPY.

"Ugh. I'm taking off my shoes," she whined, stopping at the railing after forcing herself to take several strides more than her legs were willing to support. "The night is too beautiful to waste complaining."

As she walked away from the railing to rejoin Chuck's side, he swept her up into his arms without warning and she threw her limbs up in the air, in reflex.

"Oh my God! Chuck, what are you doing? Put me down," she wailed.

"I told you not to take off your shoes" he reminded her. "You're going to get dirt and germs under your feet."

"So, what are you, going to carry me all the way home? It's too far. You can't. I'm too heavy."

"You're not that heavy." Chuck scoffed, rolling his eyes at Blair. She knew he'd be rolling his eyes too. He'd always told her that she was as light as a paperweight. "…But maybe not all the way to your house. I can take you to the end of this bridge and we can take a cab the rest of the way."

"Hmm. A for effort, my love. I think that would be best," Blair replied as she delightfully threw her arms around his neck in a hug and tucked her face into his shoulder.

In the cab ride to the Waldorf penthouse, Chuck and Blair had only the requisite attention span to be aware of each other, as it seemed as if they were completely oblivious to everything else around them. They were lost in each other's long gazes, fiery lips, smooth skin, and depraved whispers. Chuck's cologne which Blair had missed was now all over her fingertips and her eyes were hooded with the effect of the dosage. The wine at dinner was partly to count - however, it was Chuck that made Blair's senses go limp. She was seeing la vie en rose, probably every color of the rainbow as well.

There were echoes of laughter in Chuck's ear everytime an undignified request or promise was pronounced from Blair's lips, but Chuck didn't have time to process any of the things he was hearing or the closeness of her lips to the thumping vein in his neck. He was lost in the feeling of her, mingled with the conscious knowledge that she was real. The hurt had been real, the scars – he could attest to those. But here she was, kissing his hurt away into little traces of nothing. The moan that escaped her next was a heavenly note and Chuck crowned it the cherry on top of the sundae. It had this intoxicating effect that Chuck could only close his eyes to appreciate.

The car pulled up to the Waldorf-Rose penthouse and there they were on the stoop making out like teenagers, for several minutes.

"Some Me, you, and Paris, huh?" Chuck chuckled out, pulling away from her face as he thought back on the events of their day now that it was coming to a close.

"I couldn't have predicted tonight with a crystal ball if I had one," Blair retorted, equally bewildered, pressing herself up to his lips once more.

Chuck leaned in and seized her mouth in a passionate kiss that knocked all the air out of her lungs. Blair had to stumble back a little when she pulled away to regain her balance.

"You want to come up with me," she propositioned him sweetly. "I'm tired and I possibly need to take a bath. This was an unforgettable evening." She sighed contentedly.

"It was," Chuck confirmed in the same dreamy tone that didn't sound sad at all despite the big fight they'd just had. "But I think I want to stay outside a little longer. I'm going to take a walk. I'll be up in a few."

Blair pouted adoringly and Chuck kissed her sweetly one last time before he walked away from her silent protest into the night. She nudged him along before he was out of reach and then waited on the stoop a while watching the back of his head retreat into the distance.

"Take all the time you need," she called out after him, a glorious smile of satisfaction on her face. "You know I'll be waiting for you. ALWAYS."

.

.

So, here I have Chuck and Blair finally having that much needed talk and I'm so happy that they're officially back together because the last three chapters were killing me as much as they were killing Chuck. I didn't want Chuck to send Blair away in the first chapter even though I knew they weren't ready to be together. Firstly, I wanted to be able to show that even though it was very difficult for Chuck to accept Blair back into his life unresolved (apologies don't mean squat until you can trust the mouth they're coming out of), he was still willing to do it because he couldn't fathom letting her walk away, any more times. It'd kill him. It shows that Chuck loves Blair and that he knows he needs her in his life. She's indispensible to his happiness. As unhappy as he could be with her, it doesn't compare to how unhappy he'd be without her. And I also didn't want to be harsh in my first chapter. Putting myself in the mind of these characters, of course Chuck takes Blair back in Monaco – in the moment – because, imagine how much he had missed her on top of all the epic love declarations and apologies she was making, plus his own appeal to his conscience over the things he's done to her such as the IP, etc. It was an overwhelming moment for him.

But then as he started travelling around without her, Spain, Argentina, this chapter and in the last chapter, Chuck started to get some distance from her, and he was seeing clearer. It shows very much that he wasn't over all the hurt. He wanted her but they were too broken. I made sure he was the supportive partner and she was the supportive partner as well, because that highlighted immensely the Friendship part of their relationship. I hated how Safran said Chuck and Blair were never friends because that is a total lie.

The way he hesitated around any declarations of them 'being together', he didn't want to commit to her. There clearly was something stopping him, he called it self-preservation. However, amidst his moments of doubt, you had moments of trust from Chuck, like the times he told her, 'we're going to work this out' etc... He truly wanted to believe that. It indicates that he did want to trust Blair but he just couldn't figure out how because she had broken his trust so irrevocably, it seems. The catalyst was when she told him she didn't love him anymore, Chuck was still terrified of that. That is why I wrote this chapter, and I think this chapter has resolved them for the most part. And I hinted to why Chuck was apprehensive about having sex with Blair because sex with Blair involved his heart and he didn't know if he could give her that in whole yet. But I'm proud of Chuck for holding out because he valued his relationship with Blair over all the mind blowing sex he could have been having with her from day one.