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: This took way too long to write and I have no idea why. Blame writer's block and a weird phase i'm going through. This chap kind of mirrors chapters 2&3. I didn't intend for it to, It just worked out that way. Also i'm working on responding to reviews, so please don't think i'm ignoring or not appreciating you. :)

disunion.

"So."

"So," Dan drags the word out as slowly as he possibly can and Vanessa rolls her eyes in response, annoyed.

"So...?" she echoes, expectantly.

He opens his mouth to speak again, but before he does she threatens, shoving her finger into his chest, "If you say 'so' one more time, Dan, I swear to God, I am going to rip-"

"Sorry, I'm just, uh, trying to think about this."

"About...?"

"It's just - this thing with you and Chuck. Is it serious?"

Vanessa sighs and takes a tentative sip from the hot cup of coffee in her hands. "It's... complicated."

"Man, that sounds familiar." Dan chuckles and scratches a spot behind his ear, a nervous habit. "Do you want it to be serious?"

"I don't know."

"Well, is he right about you and Nate?"

"I don't know."

"Well, that certainly puts everything into perspective."

Vanessa rolls her eyes. "You know, this was so much easier when I didn't really know either of them. I think I prefer being an outsider, looking in, as opposed to being an outsider who's thrown in."

"Come on, Vanessa. You weren't 'thrown' in. You put yourself in. Besides I thought the 'Make Nate Jealous' plan was your idea?"

"It was. Sort of. I just - I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do."

"Vanessa, you know I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Okay well, for one thing because it's not my relationship so I can't really have a say in the direction that it goes in-"

"Like that's ever stopped you before."

"- and two," Dan continues, his brown eyes narrowed, "if I tell you what I really think about this thing between you and Chuck, then it's highly likely that we won't be speaking for weeks again."

"Stop saying 'thing' like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that time when you found out you accidentally got an article published in People magazine instead of Paradigm. And he's not ... all bad." Vanessa doesn't know why she's even defending him - he's Chuck Bass - but, there it is. She sighs.

"So, underneath that hard exterior, there's a soft and vulnerable center? I find that very hard to believe."

"I think you just described a Three Musketeers Bar."

"I know you, Vanessa, and I think you already know what you want but for whatever reason are afraid to admit it so you're running from it."

She shakes her head. "That... doesn't sound like me."

Dan gives her a pointed look, full of meaning. "I know it doesn't."

She hesitates - only once - before opening the door to the bar she knows he frequents. But it's still a hesitation. She's still uncertain about this. About them. Not that there is a them, she reminds herself. There is only her and Nate, and one careless indiscretion that Blair seems to be unable to put behind her despite her best efforts. (And, there is still one Brooklynite named Vanessa Abrams that she has been unable to shake thus far.)

Blair sighs, takes a seat on the bar stool next to his and orders a drink to gain a little bit of the control that seems to have slipped through her fingers before she even arrived.

Chuck acknowledges her presence, and when he looks her in the eyes it's almost as if he's looking through her. She wouldn't say she's fond of how it makes her feel. He swirls the drink in his hand, and the sound of the ice clinking together echoes. He licks his lips. "You don't think we're becoming a bit predictable?''

"How so?"

"We play games... Things go south - and not in the fun way - between me and a conquest, I go to a bar to drown my sorrows. You... seek me out. Lather, rinse, repeat."

"Is that all that Vanessa was? A conquest?"

He doesn't answer. His silence makes her nervous.

"I just thought we should talk," Blair says, resisting the urge to strangle him out of frustration. She bites down on her bottom lip, tucking it between her teeth. "We need to talk, Chuck," she tries again.

"About what exactly?" She goes quiet. This conversation isn't turning out at all how she thought it would. Blair can't help but think, he's worse at this than Nate is.

"What are you so afraid of?" He sounds angry, which, immediately, causes Blair to jump to the defensive.

"I'm not afraid," she lies. She reminds herself that Blair Waldorf is not intimidated easily, not by anyone, least of all by Chuck Bass - even if he is the boy who took her virginity and seems to hold a piece of her heart. "I'm not the one running to Brooklyn whenever I can't handle a relationship."

"If I recall, we don't have a relationship," Chuck snaps, for the first time showing some semblance of emotion. "You do. With someone else. How is old Nate, by the way? Does he know you're here?"

"Nate doesn't own me." She takes a sip of her drink. "I just need to know whether the risk would be worth it-"

"Of course," Chuck nods mockingly. "You're not the kind of girl who risks anything without a five year plan and, naturally, a fall back plan just in case that falls apart."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Blair retorts primly.

"I've got news for you, princess, life doesn't work like that."

"Mine does," she insists, offended.

"Well mine doesn't. And if that's what you really think then I don't know why you're here."

"I think that you're just afraid to be happy."

"Why do you care if I'm happy?"

She doesn't respond because she doesn't know or have the answer. She doesn't know why she cares so much but she does know that she shouldn't even though she can't seem to stop. He will ruin her, certainly. Destroy her, possibly. But in spite of Blair's own reasoning, she does care. She supposes that's why she leans in towards him, pushing his drink to the side and placing his face between her hands. On the inside, she burns with satisfaction at the fact that Chuck isn't fighting her, and Blair slowly lets her lips touch his and it's not long before she's wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

Nate is sitting on the steps in front of her apartment, waiting for her.

"Hey."

"Hey." Vanessa smiles faintly and hopes that she's gotten more adept at hiding her inner anxiety a lot better than she's ever been before. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugs, rises to his feet and moves to stand in front of her, a crooked half smile dancing across his features as he takes a step closer. "I was in the neighborhood."

"So you're hanging around in Williamsburg now?"

"I've been looking for you."

"...You have?" She pretends not to know this.

"Yeah." He shrugs again and smiles the grin that made her fall for him in the first place, the grin that convinced her concocting a semi-convoluted Cruel Intentions inspired plan with the Devil of the Upper East Side (aka Chuck Bass) was a brilliant idea. "Didn't you get my messages?"

"No. I, uh, I haven't been home today," she lies again. Vanessa consoles herself with the dismal thought that she only lies to keep him here.

"Can we talk?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. You want to come upstairs?" She's digging around in the bottom of her bag, trying to find her keys with her back turned to him, which is why she doesn't see him, moving to stand directly behind her. Vanessa jumps, startled when she feels Nate's hands on her hips. "Nate?" She smirks. "I thought you wanted to talk."

"I've been thinking."

"About-?" the word has barely left her mouth before Nate's arm has settled around her waist and pulled her close against him, his mouth strong and firm on hers. She can feel the breath of his exhale against her top lip. The kiss is gentle, sweet, and it is so easy for Vanessa to get caught up in the novelty of kissing Nate Archibald, this boy whom she's told herself she wanted so badly for so long but now that he's here she doesn't know what the hell she's supposed to do. She likes him, she does; there are feelings here, definitely.

But is that enough?

She doesn't know why she kisses him. Old habits die hard, as the saying goes.

Vanessa pulls back a bit and rests her forehead against Nate's.

"I...still have feelings for you," he utters and even though it's everything Vanessa wants to hear she suddenly wonders why? "I really care about you, Vanessa," he whispers, his lips brushing against hers. His hands are still gripping her hips, their bodies pressed tightly together on the steps in front of her apartment building and she's suddenly reminded of silken hotel sheets and torrid nights and whispered secrets that she almost wishes never happened because they're that difficult to forget. Nate is the one who kisses her first, and she doesn't think or care to ask about Blair this time as her tongue searches out his. His hands slide through her hair and she tilts her head and opens her mouth just a little to deepen the kiss and she isn't as certain of her motives as she thought she would be when this moment happens. But when Nate pulls back, seconds later, and just says, "Ness," she grabs his hand and moves toward her door.

"Upstairs?"

He nods.