Dichotomy

Summary: He will destroy her. It's the one thing about him that she can say for certain. Chuck/Vanessa

Setting: season 2 (around the era of "Remains of the J")

A/N: a big thank you for reviewing/reading/favoriting the last chap. there's a line in this chapter that's taken from the show, though i can't recall which episode. and i'm thinking maybe ten, twelve chapters max total for this story. sound good? too soon? too late? review all. (and enjoy :)

doublet.

She doesn't know where to go, exactly, once Chuck virtually kicks her out of his hotel room. Her hand pressed to her lips as she thinks over his conversation with Nate, she takes her time walking towards the elevator. Vanessa doesn't want to run into Nate, though she's not entirely sure why just yet.

After looking down at her haphazardly buttoned shirt and, realizing that she's inadvertently gone commando, with a groan Vanessa decides to head back to her apartment for a quick shower and a change of clothes.

The blinking red light on Vanessa's answering machine catches her eye and almost immediately, she feels her heart jump up into her throat. A wave of anxiety washes over her body and she rolls her eyes at the way her heart rate increases. Pathetic, she thinks.

"Hey Vanessa, it's Nate. I just wanted to - uh, call me back when you get this?"

Her heart drops from its place in her throat down to her stomach at the sound of his voice. It doesn't really register in her mind at first that it's disappointment she's feeling, not until she's hitting the playback button to hear the message from Nate again.

The next message is from Dan, spouting off some vague reference to Gossip Girl's website, and Vanessa makes a mental note to check on that later, maybe.

"End of new messages," the machine drones on. She swallows thickly. Disappointed again.

Of course. She shakes her head, almost in awe of her own stupidity. Did she really expect for Chuck to call after what happened this morning?

Vanessa sighs as she turns on the shower head and sticks her hand underneath, checking to make sure the water is hot enough.

As she steps into her shower stall Vanessa admits - only to herself - that yes, she was hoping.

As expected, Blair finds Vanessa in a coffee shop in Brooklyn, seated at some cheap Formica table. For once, Gossip Girl proves to be a reliable source of information. Hand on her hip, Blair hovers over the table Vanessa's occupying, growing a little irritated when Vanessa doesn't look up immediately. Blair clears her throat, loudly.

"What are you doing here?" Vanessa's eyes narrow in suspicion. She sets her coffee and the Sudoku puzzle she's been working on off to the side, and folds her arms defensively across her stomach.

Inwardly, Blair smirks. Good. People are much easier to manipulate when they go straight to the defensive.

"What's it look like? I'm paying a friendly visit."

"The word 'friendly' should never leave your mouth."

This time, Blair ignores the blatant insult. She considers sliding into the empty seat across from Vanessa, but after a second glance at the questionable vinyl - vinyl? gross - seats she decides that remaining standing would be a better idea. It's much more intimidating that way, anyway, and Blair will always take any advantage she can get. "I am here for a reason. Saw an interesting little post on Gossip Girl this morning."

"Which was...?"

"A vomit-inducing picture of you and Chuck at nearly 2 a.m. outside his hotel."

Vanessa blanches, barely, but just enough for Blair to notice. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sounded jealous."

"You're kidding, right?" Blair scoffs. "Look, I get that you were probably dying to get a glimpse into the life of an Upper East Sider, but Chuck was only using you to get back at me, and even if he wasn't," she scowls as if that isn't even a real possibility, "you don't have what it takes to live this lifestyle. Not permanently."

Vanessa looks increasingly tense, and Blair wonders if she's finally starting to chip away at the girl's armor. She keeps going, trying to find the right nerve to hit, the perfect sore spot to poke with a sharp stick.

"Why does it matter to you so much if I spend time with Chuck? Are you in love with him?"

"Never confuse lust and contempt with love, Abrams. That's rule number one."

Vanessa frowns. "Are you - are you giving me advice?"

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous."

"Then, please, tell me, what is this lovely moment we're sharing?" Vanessa asks, sarcastic and exasperated.

"This is me telling you to stand down."

Vanessa resists the urge to roll her eyes at Blair's need to over dramatize every situation in her life by using war analogies and combat metaphors. "Or, what, you'll 'open fire'?"

"In a manner of speaking. Look, I don't care what you do as long as it has no bearing on my life."

"Did you and Nate break up? Is that why you're here?"

Blair refuses to even think about the answer to that question, much less answer it directly. She does acknowledge, however, that the rift or chasm between her and Nate has grown exponentially since they'd initially decided to give their relationship another try. She also acknowledges that there are at least two reasons behind that. "...If we did, you would be the last person I would tell."

"Yeah, okay-"

"Besides, even if Nate somehow forgot all the rules about proper coupling in the Upper East Side, he knows a relationship with someone like you would only be temporary. Your breeding alone is enough to give him a rash."

"'Breeding'? What are you, a Yorkshire Terrier?"

"Cute. Gotta love that impoverished and destitute Brooklyn sense of humor," Blair retorts, smirking.

"Blair, look, I'm really not in the mood to-"

"You think I don't know what you're doing?"

"Excuse me?"

"Please," she scoffs. "Cut the crap, Vanessa. I know you're not as naive as Dan Humphrey, and you're definitely not as stupid as his hideously blond little sister."

"Thank you, I think," Vanessa mutters.

"I am the expert at Manipulation 101. You don't get to have them both. That's not how this works."

"Oh, right, I forgot - only you can. Blair, I'm not the one who's trying to-"

"You can try to play this game all you want, but you're not experienced enough to win," Blair persists. "Trust me."

"I have no reason to trust you, or anything you say."

"You're right. You shouldn't."

Blair casts Vanessa one final threatening glare, feeling a little disappointed that their conversation hadn't exactly taken the direction she'd hoped: which would have been Vanessa bowing out - gracefully or not - leaving Blair ample time to make her decision between Chuck Bass and Nate Archibald.

Blair frowns.

Maybe she's smarter than I give her credit for.

The thought alone is enough to make her sick.

"Blair, this is ridiculous. And, I mean, I kind of have to agree with Vanessa."

She halts her frantic pacing in mid-stride, and turns on Serena with a cold glare. "If you want to remain friends with me, don't ever say those words again," she hisses.

Serena sighs, draping herself across Blair's bed and spreading her blond tresses across her 300 thread count Egyptian sheets and messing up her perfectly made bed. "Well, you're making this out to be some kind of epic battle-"

"It is! I don't see how you don't think it is. The fact that Vanessa Abrams even thinks she has a chance means that the universe is seriously unbalanced!"

"Blair, it's a lot simpler than that and has nothing to do with some unbalanced universe theory."

"No, it-"

"Yes, it is. Do you want to be with Nate?"

Blair doesn't answer, not with words. She can't. Her heart and mind come up with two entirely different responses. Her whole life has been about building a future and starting an empire with Nate. There's no way she could just change that plan after one year and a reckless night in the backseat of a limo. She's always wanted to be with Nate, but it isn't that simple anymore.

At her silence, Serena sits up, and looks her best friend in the eyes.

"Well... are you in love with Chuck?" Serena asks, speaking each word softly.

"Only a masochist could ever love such a narcissist," Blair answers, trying to be flippant but somehow ending up sounding frighteningly truthful.

"Are you talking about you or Vanessa?"

Blair's stomach fills with dread. "Do you think Vanessa's in love with Chuck?"

Serena shrugs. "I don't know, B. But, I think it's a possibility."

It's not the answer Blair wants or expects to hear. It isn't "no".

And, in spite of all the best laid plans she's made involving Nate or about her and Nate, she can't accept that.

She won't.