A/N: This is another flashback that actually has to do with the plot. Just a few notes to explain: Lily and Rufus did not end up together in this story and she went back to being Lily Rhodes. Also there is a character mentioned here that's going to show up in at least one other flashback to better explain his relationship with the main characters. If you have any other confusion send me a message and I'll do my best to explain without giving away my plans. enojy!
Chapter Nine: Smoke or The Guide To Becoming Chuck and Blair
The tarmac at Biggin Hill was wet and slippery as Chuck made his way from the limousine that carried him from The Dorchester hotel. The black umbrella he used to shield himself from the pounding English rain did little to protect his previously immaculate ensemble. Chuck ascended the metal stairs to the Bass jet, and shook the raindrops off his coat when he reached the indoor protection. He then reclined in one of the plush leather seats, taking a long sip from the tumbler of scotch that was waiting for him.
If you had asked him a year ago, Chuck Bass never thought he would be twenty years old and completely alone. When he arrived at Blair's penthouse one month ago, peonies and heart in hand, he never expected to be turned away. He thought they were inevitable, and he was done wasting time. That night, however, brought him here, to London; well first to Los Angeles, then Tokyo, Dubai, Milan, Berlin, and finally to London. Tonight he would fly back to New York, and when he arrived, Chuck planned to hole himself up in his TriBeCa duplex.
"Phoebe," he turned to his twenty six year old personal assistant, who had somehow become his grip on reality during the past few weeks. "Can we go over my schedule for next week?" he motioned for her to take a seat across from him. He noticed that when she did, she fidgeted. "I'm sorry; if you're tired you should take a rest. I know the past month has been…fast paced, and I'm sure you must be happy about returning to New York."
"No, no Mr. Bass, I'm fine," she replied. Her eyes, however, were glued to the Hermes day-planner in her lap. "Actually, Ms. Rhodes called this afternoon while you were meeting with Mr. Cattet, and she would like us to make one more stop before returning to New York sir."
Chuck unlatched the seat-belt from across his lap when the pilot announced that they had reached cruising altitude. He sat forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, holding his scotch with both hands. "Where to?" he would go anywhere to stay away from New York another week, that way when he returned Blair would be skiing in Vermont with her boyfriend and Serena. No, he scolded himself; this is not about Blair, or that pansy Mason Cowdray, this is about Bass Industries. As long as he was not going to Paris, he could survive.
"Casablanca, sir." Still avoiding eye contact, Phoebe sifted through her briefcase, before handing him a stack of papers. "Ms. Rhodes emailed the property perspectives, would you like me to review them with you?"
"That won't be necessary," he flipped through the pile of paper on his lap and abandoned the tumbler of scotch. He looked up at her with a genuine smile, "relax, read a magazine, have a drink…you work too hard, Phoebe."
The young woman rose from her seat and smoothed the imaginary wrinkles from her trousers. "No Mr. Bass, you do," she took a step towards the back of the plane and placed a hand on Chuck's hunched shoulder.
Chuck could feel the heat of her palm penetrating his silk blend shirt. Under normal circumstances, he would have no doubts about pulling Phoebe into his lap and running his fingers through her blond hair. He thought about how easily he could revel in her blue eyes rolling into the back of her skull, as she cried his name, under his ministrations. His body was deprived of a woman's comfort for months, and the reprieve could be as simple as turning his face up to hers. "Thank you," he responded almost inaudibly, eyes glued down at the paper in his lap. She patted his shoulder maternally and continued to the back of the jet.
Chuck allowed the bellhop to place his bags in the suite's foyer when they arrived at his room. He peeled a bill off the fold of Euros in his pocket and handed them to the boy. When Chuck entered the room, he was assaulted with the heady sent of flowers and noticed an extravagant yellow bouquet on the desk. He quickly turned back out the door, where the boy was retreating to the elevators, "Excuse me…"
The young bellhop twisted, stuffing the Euros in his jacket, "yes sir?"
"Could you send housekeeping up?" he returned his attention to the suite when a strong gust of air hit his face. It was then that he noticed the balcony door was propped open, the curtains moving with the breeze. "Sorry, never mind." He slammed the suite door shut, and engaged the lock. The blood was pounding in his ears as a silent wall erected itself around his heart; she was here.
Her back was turned to the open glass door, half empty glass champagne in her hand, as she looked over the urban sprawl. The hairs on her neck stood up with each determined step he took, until he stopped at the balcony's entrance and her breathing became labored. "I always thought it would be romantic to fall in love in Casablanca," she said after a long silent moment passed between them, staring into her glass of bubbly.
Chuck stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants and leaned against the doorframe. He also looked out over the city, but all that would come to mind was New York. "That's ironic; I always envisioned that Casablanca was where love came to die," he was suddenly aware of her every move; when her back tensed he could feel it on his fingertips.
"Please, don't say that," she whispered under her breath into the warm night.
He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pants and lit one silently. "I'm guessing you've cast me as Bogart for this particular scene," he exhaled and watched the smoke billow into the dark. "Which begs the question, did you bring your Victor with you?"
She shook her head and quickly wiped away an errant tear. "I brought daffodils."
He quickly stamped out the half-smoked cigarette under his loafers. "The symbol of unrequited love? I think you are mixing up your metaphors, Blair. Frankly I'm unimpressed." He bit back angrily.
Blair could no longer control the tears on her cheeks; her body trembled when she looked at him for the first time in a month. "They also represent new beginnings, rebirth, hope…" she responded, undeterred by his insult, "and I haven't cast you as anyone but Chuck."
Chuck pushed his back off against the frame and took three strides until he was standing close enough to hear her labored breathing. His fingers longed to reach out and brush the tears from her cheek, but he kept his hands buried at his side. "Where's Mason?" he asked, searching her eyes that were clouded over with unshed tears.
She turned her face away, unnerved by his sudden proximity, and finished the last of her champagne in one swallow. "I don't know," she refused to meet his inquisitive glare. "I haven't spoken to him since the night you came to the penthouse."
He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed in an effort to make her raise her eyes. "The night you sent me away? When you told me you were falling in love with someone else?" his voice was becoming desperate. When he realized he was touching her he pulled his hands away forcefully. "I thought we were done playing games, Blair!" he couldn't help but shout, no matter how hard he tried to control it.
"I was scared!" she screamed back. Once she looked into his probing brown orbs, her legs gave, and she collapsed into a chair. "You left me first, Chuck." Their breathing was discordant as they both relived a night in New York that occurred almost a year ago. "You cheated on me…you broke my heart."
He tentatively sat in the chair next to her, their chests facing each other, their knees centimeters from touching. "I know," he whispered, unable to find any other words to offer her. All his resolve from a moment ago was lost when he saw the broken girl in her eyes.
"It took a lot of time, but I realized that I was ready for forever, but you aren't the forever type." She gingerly placed her palm on his knee when she saw he was about to protest. "My heart was in a thousand pieces, and Mason helped me put it back together. I thought, maybe I really did love him, if only for that. But, when you came to me a month ago with all your apologies and promises, I fell apart all over again."
He didn't know why he did it, but Chuck lifted her hand from his knee and brought her fingers to his lips. The action elicited a choking sob from Blair's chest, but wordlessly begged her to continue.
"After everything you had done, no one could understand why I would want anything to do with you. When I told Mason that I couldn't see him anymore because I was still in love with you, he said such…terrible, hurtful things. Yet, I knew they were all true," Blair leaned forward so that her forehead was resting against his. "The only people who've talked to me in the last month are Lily and Nate."
Nate, the name swam furiously around Chuck's head. Nate was the only reason Blair had even met Mason. Chuck was convinced that Nate would never be satisfied unless Chuck and Blair were miserably separated.
"In fact, Nate's the reason I'm here," Blair continued. She softly stroked his open palm, dragging her fingernails against his long digits. "He reminded me about all his stupidity that I forgave over the years. He told me that I shouldn't give up in the face of true love…" a sad smile played on her lips. "But I have a feeling he stole that line."
Chuck tilted his head so their noses brushed together. He could feel her breath hot against his lips. "Will you forgive me B? Will you give me another chance?"
Blair suddenly pulled back, grabbed his face between her palms, and searched his face. "I would give you a thousand…" she felt his arms dart to her waist as he pulled them into a standing position. His lips greedily found hers as he pressed closer into her, forcing out the air between them.
The ties of her blue halter dress were undone and all the buttons on his shirt were opened. Blair reached under his shirt, and pulled his naked torso flush against her own. Meanwhile his arms enveloped her shoulders, his hands lost in her brown curls, moving her head to meet his desperate kisses. "Blair…" he began-- his voice husky with desire, "If I asked for your forever would you give it to me?"
Blair smile up at him sneakily, "stop being such a cheese ball, Bass."
His lips traveled down the column of her throat and he felt her shiver against the cold. "It was a legitimate question, Waldorf," he mumbled against her pulse point. He pulled her legs around his hips, cradled her in his hands as his mouth devoured the valley between her breasts.
"Always…" she whispered into his ear, attempting to control the sensations Chuck was eliciting from her body, "It's always been yours." She suddenly realized that Chuck had deposited her on the king size bed, but it was the last coherent thought she had for hours.
Blair pushed Chuck off the king sized bed, causing him to fall against the tiles with a resounding thud. "Of all the disgusting…perverted…depraved—,"
"I thought it was pretty sexy actually…" Chuck cut off her rant with his indelible smirk on his lips. He gingerly rubbed his bare shoulder where it had connected with the hard tiles.
"You what!" she roared in response. Blair peeked her face over the edge of the bed, where Chuck lay prone, holding the white sheet against her naked flesh. "You honestly thought that by spelling it out against my—," she stopped herself short when a fierce blush crept into her cheeks.
Chuck laughed in response, while pulling himself back onto the mattress. "Yes, I thought spelling it out against your cl—,"
She shoved him again, but this time he was expecting it. "Don't you dare finish that thought…" she warned, anger playing in her brown orbs.
He grabbed her waist, pulling her on top of him although she struggled to get away. "It's the only way I knew you'd be screaming yes," he caught her lips, stealing a playful kiss.
"And what am I supposed to tell our children when they want to know what crazy romantic way you asked me to marry you?" she asked, while still attempting to pull away from him. "If I tell them the truth they'll think I was a whore!"
Chuck laughed deep in his chest, releasing her hips from his loving grasp. "Okay, go out to the balcony for a few minutes while I order breakfast and figure out something more romantic."
"Fine," she announce with a huff, pulling a plush white bathrobe around her frame. She turned back to him from the glass doors, indignation playing on her features. "It better be really good to make up for that stunt."
Already reaching for the phone to call room service, Chuck smiled at her before she disappeared.
Blair felt a pair of strong arms wrap her from behind while she watched the sunrise over the port of Casablanca, causing her smile to widen. "That was quick thinking…" she mused.
Chuck took one of his arms and pushed her soft curls to the side so he could have access to kiss down her neck, but did not return the arm to her waist. "I always thought I would ask you to be wife in a limo, or my suite at the Palace, or maybe even a rooftop in Brooklyn," he began, thinking about all the special places they shared in Manhattan—millions of miles from here. "But you always did have a way of throwing me off, Waldorf." He whispered gently against her throat, then gently capturing her earlobe.
"Chuck…" she whimpered, her back pressed hard against his chest. Suddenly the world disappeared around them until all that was left was Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck.
"I always want to make you happy Blair," he announced, before licking a hollow crevice on her shoulder. "I want you to fall in love in Casablanca…" he pulled the small velvet box from his matching white robe and snapped it open in front of her. " Will you be my wife?"
Blair quickly grabbed the sparkling diamond out of the box and turned herself in his arms. "Where did this come from?" she questioned sincerely. In all honesty, she had meant yes that morning, no matter how indecent his proposal.
"I had it with me the night I came to you," he answered quietly, looking at the ring in her hand, cautiously avoiding eye contact, "and I went straight to the airport after leaving the penthouse…so I've been carrying it around for the past month." He could vividly remember sitting down at Harry Winston and designing it; a seven-carat octagonal emerald cut diamond with four marquis and pear shaped diamonds on each side that looked like butterflies.
"It's stunning…," she said, wiping a stray happy tear that rolled down her cheek, "Put it on me!" Blair giggled, suddenly overwhelmed with excitement.
Chuck laughed too as he slid the platinum band onto her waiting left hand. "Don't you dare take it off B," he warned lightheartedly.
"Don't give me a reason to," she mumbled against his lips.
He placed her palm against his exposed chest where he knew his heart beat only for her. "It's yours Blair…only yours."
She pushed his robe farther open and placed searing kisses on the spot her hand occupied a moment ago. "Mine," she branded his chest with her word.
A/N 2: The ring is based on a Harry Winston design. You can find it by going to the Harry Winston website, from the homepage: Jewels=Rings=Colored Stone Rings, and it's the Marquesa Emerald Ring with Diamonds (except Blair's ring is a diamond, not an emerald center stone)