"Women wish to be loved without a why or a wherefore; not because they are pretty, or good, or well-bred, or graceful, or intelligent, but because they are themselves."

--Henri Frederic Amiel

***

If Blair had learned one thing from marrying Chuck, it was that morning sex was possibly her favorite activity in the entire world.

Since he almost always woke up earlier than she did, Blair never needed to set an alarm clock. Instead of a series of annoying blaring sounds waking her up, Blair always awakened to soft kisses on her neck and Chuck's hands making a trail all the way down her body.

"Good morning, beautiful," he would murmur into her hair or her breasts or wherever his mouth happened to be at the moment, and she would close her eyes and let a satisfied smile take over her entire face and think that people wouldn't hate getting up in the morning so much if they only had Chuck Bass to soften the blow.

He had woken her up like this every morning for the past three months, every day since they had finally gotten married. Once he had even done so at three in the morning when he had had to catch an early flight to LAX, and even though Blair had gone back to sleep afterward, she fully believed it still counted. It wasn't so much the sex that Blair relished (but of course she enjoyed it immensely, because Chuck made it his special mission to make absolutely sure that she enjoyed it over and over again). It was the fact that this was something special to herself and Chuck and no one else and she could look forward to it for the rest of her life.

Which was why Blair was pretty upset when she awakened one morning not to Chuck caressing her thighs, but to the sound of Chuck yelling angrily at someone in the other room. It took her a few moments to get her bearings and to get over the wave of anger that invaded her brain before she threw on the slip she had worn to bed and opened the door to the other living room.

Chuck was there, his back turned to her, and he was yelling.

"I don't care that you came all the way here," he said, "I just want you to get out of my house and never come back."

And that was when Blair noticed that Chuck wasn't talking on the phone like she had previously suspected, but instead to a very rumpled, very, very dirty Jack Bass.

Seeing Jack, Blair's heart skipped a beat (not in a good way), and apparently so did Jack's because at that moment his mouth turned up into a smirk and he said, "It seems as if we have company, nephew."

Chuck whipped around and the look Blair saw in his eyes was enough to render her speechless.

"Go back inside," he said, no tenderness in his voice.

"What is he doing here?" Blair asked, never one to be ordered around by anyone (especially Chuck Bass).

"He said he was my lawyer and the concierge let him up," Chuck said, "but that is beside the point, Blair, because I just told you to go back to the bedroom."

"Aw, Chuck, does she have to go?" Jack said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and she wanted to slap him more in that moment than she had ever wanted to before. "I haven't even gotten a good look yet."

At that moment, Chuck strode over to her, grabbed her arm just a little too tightly, and half-pulled her into the bedroom, saying, "I'll explain later," before exiting and slamming the door behind him.

To say that Blair was mad would be an understatement. Since they had been married, Chuck had been surprisingly angelic. Sure, there had been a few tiffs over a pair of underwear she had discovered in his briefcase (hers, she had left them at his office a few days before), and the half-drunken bottle scotch Dorota had unearthed from a dresser drawer (his, he had had a particularly rough night at work and had wanted to drown his sorrows). But even Blair, who had always seen the best in Chuck before anyone else, had been surprise how drama-free their first few months as a married couple had been together. She had, of course, had these fleeting thoughts; doubts, more like it. Doubts that Chuck was going to be happy knowing that he was off the market, that he was going to be married to the same person for the rest of his life, that he was only going to be able to have sex with one person for the rest of his life. But then Blair had remembered that he had been the one to say I love you, the one to ask her to move in with him, the one to propose to her, the one who had seemed completely sure in his choice, the one who had kept coming back to her over and over again even when she was sure she didn't want him to.

Things had been smooth. Up until now. Now, the wrath Blair felt towards him was reminiscent of the days before he had told her he loved her, the days when he had played with her as if she were a toy and not a human being with thoughts and emotions and feelings. This was the sort of anger she had felt back when they had played games to see who could hurt who the most, games that felt exhilarating and powerful while they were happening, but after they were over left her feeling empty and drained of all energy and emotion.

This is just like him, Blair thought, lying in bed, her fingers clutching a pillow to her chest so she didn't punch something (Audrey Hepburn would never punch something). He tricks me into think he's actually a good person and not a mother chucking basstard and then, BAM, he's off being a Basshole again.

Blair could not stop fuming as she thought about how much of a jerk Chuck was being. He had no right to tell her what she could and couldn't do, and then to make her go back in the bedroom just because Jack was back? What did he think he was doing? Protecting her? Because she didn't feel protected at all. In fact, all she felt was incredibly pissed off.

Blair considered just laying there until he came back, but instead she decided that Blair Waldorf did not do submissive. She got dressed as quickly as she could manage, spritzed herself with Chanel no. 5, dabbed on some of the dark red lipstick that she knew drove Chuck crazy, grabbed her purse, and threw open the bedroom door defiantly, strutting across the living room to the elevator all before Chuck could stop her.

"Where are you going?" Chuck called out as she stood in the elevator.

Blair gave him her bitchiest, most charming smile.

"Out," she said, and then the elevator door closed and Blair had won.

***

"B," Serena said, popping a macaroon and licking the leftover chocolate from her finger, "I think you may be overreacting a teensy bit."

"Overreacting?" Blair said, pacing the floor like she had been for the past twenty minutes. "Carrie overreacted. I am not overreacting."

Earlier Blair had thought she could go to Serena and they could both proceed to do what they used to do when they were younger and engage in a much needed I-hate-Chuck-Bass venting session, but she had been sadly mistaken. She had relayed her entire story to Serena, who had seemed a little bit concerned that Chuck had grabbed her, but after Blair had reassured her that it was totally fine, that she was okay other than the whole Chuck being an asshole thing, Serena had been surprisingly skeptical and level-headed.

"I mean, it's like he was still the same mother chucker all along, but he just hid it from me up until now because he knew that once he married me, I was stuck," Blair said.

"Yes, Blair," Serena deadpanned, thumbing through Vogue. "Chuck has been secretly plotting against you and only married you so he could act like a total asshat and get away with it. That's totally logical."

"S!" Blair shrieked.

Serena sighed and put down the magazine. "B, look, I'm sorry that I can't be more supportive but, I don't know, have you ever thought that maybe instead of freaking out about one little thing to me you should talk to Chuck about this. Sure, what he did was completely unfair, but have you ever thought that maybe he is only trying to protect you? Don't you remember what happened with Lily and Jack at the opera? Chuck is your husband, B, and sooner or later you're going to have to work through this with him, and sooner is always better because if you let this build up for a long time, like I know you can do B, you're going to become completely convinced that he's a bad person and you won't forgive him."

"He wouldn't let me near him, remember?" Blair added, defensively.

"He wouldn't let you near Jack, B," Serena said. "There's a difference. Now stop coming up with excuses and go talk to him."

And as much as Blair hated to admit it, Serena was completely right. She knew that she couldn't keep this inside, that she had to tell him how much he had hurt her. If he didn't know, how could she expect him to feel bad about it? On the bright side, once he saw how terribly he had treated her, he would have to make it up to her. And another nagging part of Blair's brain told her that once he knew how she felt, it would be like they had broken through a barrier, the one barrier of their relationship. They could have all the amazing sex in the world, they could know exactly what each other wanted without having to say it, but sometimes they had the hardest time trusting each other and communicating. It had never been their strong suit.

"God, S, when did you become an expert on relationships?" Blair asked, letting herself smile for the first time since coming over.

Serena grinned. "Around the same time that I actually started talking to Nate instead of just expecting all of our problems to disappear. Which is what you should be doing right now."

"If you wanted me to leave, all you had to do was ask," Blair said playfully as she got into the elevator and the doors closed behind her.

Blair was actually pretty excited after talking with Serena. Her anger had transformed into something she couldn't exactly place, but she was ready to talk to Chuck. Maybe this was the one step their relationship needed in order to be absolutely perfect. Maybe if they could talk about this they could learn to talk about everything else instead of shutting down or blowing up at the slightest sign of incident. Maybe-

Blair froze as she exited the elevator, only to be confronted by the one and only Jack Bass. She had quite a few questions to ask him, but the first one she managed to get out as she walked right past him was, "Dear God, who was moronic enough to let you in here?"

Just as she knew he would, Jack followed her out of Serena's building and onto Park Ave. He smelled like a liquor store, and so she didn't stop walking.

"My money's still good somewhere," Jack said, struggling to keep up with Blair's fast pace. She wanted answers, but she also wanted to get rid of the slimy toad. She couldn't decide which one she wanted most until she finally stopped walking and whipped around to face him. He was standing literally centimeters away from her, looking at her in a way that made her regret her decision.

"Now I don't think Chuck would like this very much," he breathed into Blair's ear, and she responded by walloping him with her purse.

"Fuck!" he swore. "I was only kidding."

"You're going to listen to me, Jack," Blair began, "and you're going to listen to me closely because I'm only going to say this once. And if you try anything I swear to God I'll scream. As far as I am concerned you're dead, and so I'd rather not be having this little conversation, but seeing as how Chuck and I haven't seen you for four years and all the sudden you just show up out of the blue, it's necessary. Chuck has been happier than he has ever been since we've gotten married and I'm not going to let you ruin it. So you're going to tell me what you want, I'm going to tell you no, and then you're going to leave and never come back. Understood?"

Jack straightened up, a smirk on his lips, and Blair couldn't help but notice that his lips were very much like Chuck's. The thought made her want to throw up, so she stared him directly in the eyes.

"What if I said," Jack started, his eyes traveling up and down her body in such a way that her skin felt like it was being invaded by fire ants, "that what I wanted was you."

"Ew!" Blair said, stepping back. "You're disgusting."

"And you're pathetic. How can you stay with him when he treats you like that?"

Blair knew he was referring to the morning incident, when Chuck had grabbed her arm and made her go back into the bedroom. She wanted to kill Jack Bass so much right then. Did he not understand that he was the reason that Chuck had acted like he had earlier?

"Are you kidding? It's your-" Blair started before realizing that if Jack Bass was anything, it was definitely not worth her time. "You know what? Forget about it. Do what you want. Just don't come back here. Ever."

Blair raised her hand for a cab, trying to ignore Jack as it pulled up next to her. As she slid into the backseat, Jack stopped the door with his hand.

"This isn't over," he said before shutting the door. Blair's eyes were fixed out the window as she watched Jack walk down Park Ave, and she couldn't look away until the driver asked, "Where to?"

"Empire Hotel," Blair answered, her voice a little shaky, but she had never been so sure of anything. Not ever.

***

When Blair got back to the hotel, she was nervous and excited and angry all at the same time. Would Chuck still be there? Was he mad at her for leaving? If he was mad, he had no reason to be. He was the one who had acted so incredibly angry that morning and, if anything, she was the one who had the right to be mad. Blair had to remind herself that the whole point of this experience was not to be mad, but to learn to communicate. Chuck was her husband, after all, and despite all the immature heartbreak they had put each other through, they were together now and that was all that mattered. And if they wanted to stay together, they were going to have to learn to communicate.

Here goes, Blair thought as the elevator opened to their penthouse suite.

"Hello?" she said, her voice tentative as she walked into the kitchen and set her purse down on the counter. Chuck was sitting there, on one of the bar stools, his hair mussed and his eyes frantic.

"Thank God," he said, coming over to her the second he saw her and wrapping his arms around her. "Jack left and I was worried because I thought he might go after you-"

"He did," Blair said, her eyes on the floor. "I talked to him. I'm fine, though."

"I swear to God, if he touched you, I'm going to-"

"Chuck," Blair said, taking hold of Chuck's hand and turning his face to meet hers. "I don't want to talk about Jack. I want to talk about us."

Chuck's body softened around her, his jaw unclenched. His hand stroked the side of her cheek as he said, "Blair, if this is about me grabbing you, I hope you know that I will never do that again."

Blair shook her head. "I know, Chuck. You didn't hurt me and I know you were mad, but that's not what this is about. Do you remember my cotillion, when Nate punched Carter because he thought I'd slept with him?"

"I told him that Carter was your new boyfriend to throw him off our trail," Chuck said, confused, "but that was a long ti-"

"Chuck, seriously shut up for two seconds so I can tell you what I've been thinking about since I left this morning," Blair said, immediately proud of herself for the authoritative role she had taken on. She waited until Chuck nodded, then continued. "Back when I was sixteen, I remember thinking how hot it was that Nate had done that, how he had done all of that to defend my honor or whatever. I remember thinking, 'Wow, I am so lucky to have a boyfriend who will do just about anything to protect me'. But now that I'm older, when I look back on that moment, all I can think about is that I didn't need Nate to protect me from anything. I know now that what is so intriguing about you, the reason that I picked you over Nate, is that you don't treat me like I'm so china doll that will break if you so much as let anyone else look at me. Nate was always pretending like he was some sort of savior. But you... you have always acknowledged the fact that I am your equal."

Blair stopped here, looking for some sort of emotion in Chuck's eyes. She wasn't entirely sure, but she was almost certain that she saw that same look he had given her on that fateful night at Victrola's. It was hard to believe that that was almost 8 years ago.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love you, Chuck, but I don't need you to protect me. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

Chuck smiled and pulled Blair to him, wrapping his arms around her. "Are you sure about that, because I can fire Dorota and we can test that theory."

Blair glared at him. Her glare was enough to make teenage girls cry, so of course it was enough to make Chuck Bass cut the jokes and be serious.

"Trust me, Blair," he said, resting his chin on the top of her head. He smelled like cigars and scotch and Burberry, three scents that when combined were almost enough to make Blair fall asleep instantly. "I wouldn't want you any other way. The fact that you don't need me to take care of you is one of the many reasons why this ring-" he said, holding up his ring finger "-is there."

Blair smiled, nuzzling into Chuck's chest. Serena was right. Communicating was way more effective than letting things lie. She felt so much better already.

"But you know," Chuck said, running his finger through Blair's chocolate hair, "there is one way I can think of that only I can take care of you."

And before Blair could say anything or even think anything, Chuck had her in his arms and was kissing her neck and carrying her into the bedroom and this time she didn't mind in the slightest bit.