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: so i'm thinking there are about two more chapters left of this story.. in the meantime, enjoy reading all. :)

duplexity.

She doesn't know why she agrees to go with Nate to a charity event being held at the Palace Hotel nearly a week later. She doesn't know why she's been doing a lot of things lately. In the back of her mind, she imagines Dan as her own personal Jiminy Cricket, shaking his head and aghast in silent disapproval.

But she allows herself to hold onto the excuse that Blair is out of town for her father's birthday and Nate has to go to this thing, so Vanessa is simply doing him a favor by going as his date, because he needs her. As a friend.

Even you know that's complete bullshit, Vanessa scolds herself.

"Thanks for coming to this thing with me."

She tries to smile, but knows that it probably looks anything but genuine. "Nate, it's no problem, really." She takes Nate's proffered glass of champagne, trying to push down the thought that, given the choice, she would rather have scotch. His hand rests on the small of her back for the briefest of seconds, and even though it's gone in an instant Vanessa can't help but glance quickly over her shoulder to see if anyone's noticed.

Still, through that one action, she can sense his nervousness, knows that he's overly eager and willing to talk about what happened between them at her apartment and the subsequent interruption caused by Chuck and yet another Gossip Girl blast. But she's suddenly finding it difficult to think about the possibility of 'them' when she doesn't even know the state of Nate's relationship with Blair or hers with...Chuck. The simple fact that she's even taking Chuck (and Blair's) feelings into consideration at all after finally seeming to have what she wanted just within her reach.

"...So are we ever going to talk about what happened between us at your place the other day?"

"Yes. Later." She swallows thickly past the lump in her throat. Nate may be a bit gullible but she hardly even believes herself; she'd be surprised if Nate takes her word for it.

She can swear she's felt a pair of eyes on her the moment she and Nate arrived and has been stealthily trying to stay under the radar to avoid any sort of confrontation with Chuck.

Which is part of the reason why she's currently hiding out in the guest's coatroom. It's ridiculous, she realizes this; and she knows she's a coward for doing everything she can to avoid Chuck, not sure she can handle any close proximity to him after their conversation in the bar last night. "You can't get back what was never yours to begin with." He'd actually seemed...sincere in his disappointment, and she wasn't entirely sure how she was supposed to take it. 'Chuck Bass' and 'genuine sincerity' don't usually go together in the same sentence.

"What are you doing?" she whispers to herself. She presses her hand to her forehead, while absentmindedly running her fingers along the fabric of the sleeve of a suede coat.

"Wow, you're actually in here hiding from me? I have to admit, I'm flattered."

Chuck's voice, his tone derisive and mocking, cuts through the cocooned silence of the coatroom, startling her momentarily though Vanessa does her best to pretend she's unaffected by his sudden presence. She turns around quickly, eyes narrowed. "Don't be. I left something in my coat pocket," Vanessa dismisses, avoiding his gaze.

"How vague and non-descriptive. Doesn't sound at all like a lie. So is there a reason why you're avoiding me this time?"

"Not everything is about you Chuck," Vanessa insists.

"Maybe not, but this is."

"I'm not avoiding you," she denies vehemently.

"Then what the hell are you doing?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did you seriously come here with Nate?"

"Why not? Do I have any reason not to?" she asks, almost snottily.

"Didn't realize you were in the business of whoring yourself out to the Upper East Side."

She rolls her eyes. "Pot, meet kettle."

"Don't be fooled by the white steed and sword; Nate's playing a game, too," Chuck states firmly, stepping closer towards her. She takes a step backward, desperate to put distance between them so she can think, before she feels her back brushing against the coat rack. "And this thing between you and him isn't going to work."

Vanessa can't help but scoff in disbelief. "Right; Chuck Bass, the relationship expert. And just what the hell makes you so sure of that?"

"Well for one thing, there is the glaringly obvious fact that he seems to be keeping you on the back burner while his relationship with Blair remains firmly intact."

He has a point, she knows this, but she also kind of hates him for it. "Nate's a lovely idea," Chuck insists mockingly, "but he's not what you want."

A sudden rush of anger fills her at his presumption and suddenly Vanessa forgets about distance and space and thinking as she steps angrily towards him. "And you are? You don't want me! So quit trying to tell me what I want-"

He's leaned across what little space remains between them, covering her mouth with his, not hesitating in the least to slip his tongue between her lips. Vanessa's own response is immediate, her eyes sliding shut and head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss, her hands coming up to wrap around the back of his neck and tugging roughly on his hair in an effort to pull him closer. In the back of her mind, she is aware of Chuck's hands gripping her hips, using his hold on her to turn them around and back her into the wall of the coatroom.

Vanessa isn't entirely sure who pulls away first but she knows even before she opens her eyes that on Chuck's lips will be a smug and knowing smirk.

"I think I'm starting to get a pretty good idea of what you really want."