A/N: So of course I read all of your reviews. I must say that I am terribly sorry that I'm disappointing you all so much. This story has been in the works for some time and I'm still sort of writing it. On the point where everything is too similar, I'm sorry (again) but that was the entire basis for the fic. But as its going on, it is being different. Since Bart and Evelyn obviously have a different backstory than Chuck and Blair it will be slightly different. I've also been entertaining the idea that the things that were done in the 80's will cause concequences in present time. I'm really sorry I'm letting you all down, it was not my intention. I will do my best to take all of your suggestions and make it more satisfactory but sometimes that just won't be possible since my intent for writing this fic really was just to show how similar Bart and Chuck are from their youth and taste in women. I just hope my next chapters will be more to your liking. But if no one is interested in it or reading it, then I don't know if I will even finish. On that note, I do hope this chapter was a lot better than the last one. I feel like its more "different" for the people who wanted that, but just review and let me know if there's anything else that isn't working for you. I think this might be more real received. It has more "differences" than the others as requested.

Summary:She didn't like that her father was talking this way about Chuck. It didn't mean anything, but Chuck wasn't a bad person. A lot of people failed to grasp that fact. He was just lost sometimes. Like her.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. All characters belongs to Gossip Girl, though they may be changed in some ways.

late 80's.

"Is there a problem?" asked Eleanor.

She watched Evelyn looked around at the street as they walked back to her penthouse.

"No," Evelyn said unconvincingly.

"Okay..."

Evelyn knew that was not the end of the subject.

"So are you going to the gala--?"

"Its just," Evelyn interrupted, not paying ay attention to what her friend was saying. "Even when something is really annyoing, you get used to it. You know?"

Evelyn definitely wasn't referencing how Bart had taken to flaunting his money while trailing her in his limo. He wasn't here now. Not that she cared.
"Not in the slightest," Eleanor said.

Except, she did. She knew exactly what her friend was talking about because she herself was involved in that particular scheme. But only for her own gain. And Evelyn didn't have a right to be mad anyway. It wans't like she was into Bart Bass, despite what the billionaire himself thought.

But that wasn't exactly true either. But Evelyn still didn't have a right to be angry. Because even though she was so obviously into Bart, she didn't know it yet. And that was the grounds for protection Eleanor she knew she would have to use. She and Evelyn had the most tumultuous friendship ever. She knew that even her own daughter wouldn't have a frenemy like she had Evelyn. It would be impossible.

"So are you going to that gala tonight, or not?" Eleanor asked impatiently as they reached the doorman.

"I supposed," Evelyn sighed. "My mother is always telling me I should be rehearsing while at the same time she wants be to be networking and advertising myself like some kind of XXX billboard."

"I think your mother would be more apposed to that," Eleanor laughed, getting in the elevator.

"Whatever," Evelyn said. "I guess we should go together since we both don't have dates."

"Actually..." Eleanor said awkwardly. "I have a date."

"What?" Evelyn exclaimed.

"Please," Eleanor rolled her eyes. "Don't sound so shocked."

"I just..." Evelyn said in surprise, "I thought you would tell me if you and Harold got together."

"First of all its when not if," Eleanor corrected. "And its not Harold."

"Who is it?"

"Bart Bass," Eleanor said as casually as she could muster. It wasn't much.

"Bart Bass?" Evelyn stressed.

The elevator ringed and Evelyn was glad her mother wasn't home. It wasn't the first time. Her mother would reprimand her for having a fit in the foyer. But this wouldn't be a fit. Because she wasn't in to Bart Bass.

Eleanor coughed awkwardly.

"Won't your mother disinherit you?" Evelyn said, aghast.

"That's your mother, Evelyn," Elanor said. "Not mine."

"Anyway, she wants you to marry a lawyer," Evelyn teased with as much normalcy as she could muster. It wasn't much.

"Its just one night," Eleanor assured her, but knowing Evelyn, it would take longer for Bart's plan to go into effect. "And I thought you weren't in to him anyway."

"I'm not," Evelyn said hastily.

Eleanor smirked inwardly. Maybe it wouldn't take so long after all.

"I'm just... looking out for you."

Right.

"Oh really?" Eleanor asked with amusement. "Protect me from the billionaire Bass I might have hooked?"

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "Real amusing, Eleanor. They'll be saying that one for decades."

"I think its catchy," Eleanor shrugged, not trying to goad Evelyn. That was supposed to be Bart's job. She didn't want to interlope on his plan and she knew he wasn't really telling her everything. He was definitely planning something behind the scenes that no one else would see. Besides Evelyn, that is. And it would be worth it. She could get something he wanted and she could get something he wanted.

"I can't believe you're abandoning me," Evelyn sighed, collapsing on the coach.

"Its only for one night," Eleanor repeated. "And you can get a date so fast. Its not like you're me."

"You got a date with a billionaire," Evelyn reminded her.

"Right..." Eleanor said, not letting on to the fact that he didn't want her at all. He wanted her friend. So what else was knew?

"You're going out."

"Yes, Mother," Evelyn sighed. Every night it was the same.

"We're going to the gala."

Of course only when she asked she would inform her of plans she already made for her daughter.

"That's where I'm going, Mother," Evelyn said with restraint.

"Well don't forget," her mother said harshly. "This isn't a time for you to get high and party. You need to make connections."

If Evelyn stayed any longer, she was sure she would get arrested for homicide.

At least it was silent in the limo. It may have been an incredibly tense and awkward silence, but at least Evelyn wasn't being scolded for the lifestyle that she didn't even have.

Sure, she was an Upper East Sider. They liked to party and all of the above. But she was also a classy ballerina. She would travel to exotic places (not that she didn't already do that.) But she would count on herself. She wouldn't be let down by anyone. She didn't have to count on her mother so she wouldn't be cut off like Lily Rhodes. She wouldn't have to appease her parents into marrying a lawyer like Eleanor (even though Eleanor had been desperately in love with him since the 19th century.)

So Evelyn didn't look back when she pushed through the hotel that the gala was being held at. And that's why she was caught off guard when she saw Bart Bass's arm around Eleanor's waist. And she was definitely not jealous. She couldn't be.

"There's the head of the board," her mother came up from behind her, nodding towards some random group that Evelyn wasn't even paying attention to. She couldn't wait to be an adult so she could legally leave her mother forever.

Evelyn immediately snagged a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. She would need it.

"Hey," came somber voice from behind her.

Evelyn turned to face the pitiful Harold Waldorf. In Evelyn's opinion, Eleanor could do better. Sure he was cute, but he had absolutely no social skills. Eleanor called it "awkwardly adorable." Evelyn called it "way annoying." Eleanor had almost taken pity on him. It was the nursing complex when nurses at war would fall for their patients because they just wanted to take care of them.

Eleanor was a control freak. That relationship would work splendidly. And it was weird. Because for the first time that Eleanor was actually considering dating other people, he seemed interested.

"Is that Eleanor?" he asked, an attempt at nonchalance that he really needed to practice at. Eleanor could teach him.

Harold was staring at Bart who obviously had "my possession" written all over Eleanor. It was disgusting.

"Yes," Evelyn said darkly. Harold looked at her curiously but didn't comment. When it came to thing of this nature, Evelyn was glad he was in the dark. She knew that he would be the type of person to overreact at schemes. Because Eleanor couldn't like Bart Bass. It was just a game... right? Eleanor liked straitlaced lawyers. Not bad boys of the Upper East Side.

Right.

She was right.

She had to be.

This time, she took a scotch from a waiter. The champagne wasn't doing anything.

"A woman with taste. I like it."

Evelyn composed her face before she turned. Harold had taken the cue and left. He obviously wasn't a fan of the Bass.

"A man without any," Evelyn smirked. "Not a surprise."

"I love your post coital bite."

"Post coital?" Evelyn smirked. "We never did anything."

"Yet."

"And here I thought that you would be spending your time with Eleanor."

"Does that bother you?" he grinned wickedly.

"Should it?" she shot back.

"You tell me," he shrugged.

"I'll tell you that your little plan to try to make me jealous completely backfired."

"Who said I had a plan?" Bart asked seriously. "You flatter yourself. I can do so much better than you. And have."

"Without having a bottle cracked over your head afterward?" she executed flawlessly.

"Why are you like this?" he asked, no hint of his former lecher in it. "Don't you see? We're the same. Now stop trying to fight it."

"What makes you think we're the same?" Evelyn asked.

"I can see your wheels turning, Eve," he taunted. "This very moment you're trying to figure out how to get me back."

"I am not," Evelyn disputed. "You don't know me. And don't call me that."

"The first woman," Bart mused. "The one who brought sin into the garden. How fitting."

"You think I'm sinful?" Evelyn asked in interest.

Bart leaned into her to whisper. "You will be when I'm done with you."

Evelyn shoved him away. "Ew. Don't flatter yourself."

She retreated but he spoke after her.

"Someday soon, you won't resist me so much."

Evelyn spun around to him but he was already backing away.

"See you around, Eve."

Evelyn scowled after him.

"Who was that?" asked a cold and sharp voice.

Ugh. Perfect timing.

"No one," Evelyn tried to say convincingly.

"Really?" her mother asked skeptically. "Because he looked a lot like that new money Bart Bass who keeps cropping up in the tabloids."

"You read the tabloids?" Evelyn asked snarkily.

"Do not make this about me, Evelyn," her mother snapped. "You should be networking and instead you're consorting with some sort of womanizer."

"I'm not consorting with anyone," Evelyn snapped, stalking off when she realized she had nothing else to say.

"You okay?"

Evelyn found that she was actually blinking back tears when Eleanor appeared before her.

"What happened?"

"What else?" Evelyn looked back, throwing a well placed glare at her mother. "I don't know how she does it. Its the simplest thing and she resorts me into this."

"Its okay," Eleanor said comfortingly. "Have you had anything to eat tonight?"

"Look," Evelyn snapped, "I'm really tired of everyone putting so much pressure on me."

"I'm not," Eleanor protested. "I just want to make sure you're healthy."

"I'm fine," Evelyn said, making sure this time that her tears didn't show as she stormed off.

Evelyn glared at her reflection in the bathroom. She was disgusting. No wonder Eleanor was more looked at than her. She was repulsive. She exited the bathroom when a wave of dizziness crashed upon her.

She gripped the wall next to her in an effort to not let gravity take her down. She knew she was about to crack her head on the floor. And for a moment, she wondered why it wasn't happening.

His strong arms gripped her as her eyes clenched shut. They fluttered open to see his clear, light eyes. She tried to pull away.

"Careful," Bart said, holding her tightly against his chest. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Evelyn muttered. "I'm fine."

"Oh, okay," Bart responded. "So this has nothing to do with the fact that I heard you an Eleanor arguing if you've eaten today?"

Evelyn shoved him away. "Its none of your business."

"Maybe not," Bart sighed. "But its not my fault I was the only one here to catch you when you fell."

"I don't need you to catch me," Evelyn snapped.

"You can't do this," Bart said. "You have to take care of yourself."

"Of course I do," Evelyn said angrily. "No one else will."

present day.

"Of course I'm taking care of myself," Blair said self assuredly to her reflection. She knew Dorota was listening.

"Miss Blair," Dorota approached her. "You mama want to speak with you."

"I hope there's not a problem," Eleanor said, sitting on the edge of Blair's bed.

"Because there always has to be a problem with me, doesn't there, Mother?" Blair said irritably.

"No, of course not," Eleanor said. "Its just..."

"What?" Blair snapped.

"There is a problem."

"What makes you think that?" Blair asked casually.

"You will make an appearance at tonight's dinner," Eleanor said, "won't you?"

"Of course I..." Blair trailed off in realization. "Why?"

"I need to have a head count, Blair," Eleanor shook her head, getting to her feet.

"You really don't think that I got this pretty face and scheming tendencies from Daddy, do you?" Blair asked snidely.

"Blair," Eleanor sighed. "I have no idea what you mean."

"You didn't invite him," Blair said threateningly, "did you?"

"The Basses are a prominent family," Eleanor said reprovingly. "Of course I invited them. I can't base these gatherings on your preferences all the time."

"This is different," Blair said softly.

"He's a very nice boy," Eleanor said, leaving the room.

"That's what you tell yourself when he's not mauling me in public?" Blair responded.

"Why, Blair, whatever do you mean?"

"You weren't so keen on him when you found us in the elevator that time."

"Things change, Blair," Eleanor replied. "I hope you'll learn to realize that one day."

Blair snagged a flute of champagne from a passing waiter right as Serena came up from behind her.

"So you've heard," Serena said, surveying her best friend's behavior.

"What tipped you off?" Blair snapped. "Probably because he's the one who came with you in the limo."

"Eleanor invited him," Serena said simply.

"I knew it," Blair said under her breath. "I know what she's doing."

"Why does your mother always have to be plotting?" Serena asked helplessly.

"Because she's my mother," Blair burst out. "Because she's me. I'll still be plotting when I'm her age. I'll still be plotting when I'm your grandmother's age. Cece was the one who broke you and Humphrey up for Cotillion, wasn't she?"

"That was ages ago," Serena waved that off."

"What is he doing here?" Blair said, looking over to see that Chuck was once again charming her mother. Jerk.

"Blair," Serena looked at her almost pityingly. Blair Waldorf didn't do pity. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Should it be?"

"He's here for you. He cares so much that he even went to Eleanor as a way to get to you."

"You make me sound like another one of his conquests," Blair said, trying to hide the hurt from her voice.

"You know that you're always more to him."

"Right," Blair said sarcastically. "That's why I found him in bed with another woman."

"Who's to really know what goes on inside the psychotic mind of Chuck Bass?" Serena asked. "Except you."

"What was that?" Blair snapped.

"I think I see your father," Serena said brightly, making her escape.

"Daddy?" Blair asked. Sure enough, there Harold Waldorf stood. He smiled good naturedly and embraced his only daughter.

"I didn't know you were coming," she said with surprise. "When did you get here?"

"Not very long ago," Harold said. "It was a surprise for me too. Who is that your mother is talking to?"

"No one," Blair said offhandedly. "Well, no one that matters."

Harold raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Friend of yours?"

"Its just Chuck, Daddy," Blair sighed.

"Oh?" Harold asked. "Is this someone knew? Chuck who?" Blair's eyebrows furrowed.

"You know him. I grew up with him. Its Chuck Bass."

"Bass?" Harold asked.

"Yes..." Blair said. "I thought you knew."

"Knew about what?" he asked testily.

"You never acted this way with Nate," Blair said curiously.

"Nate?" Harold asked. "So he's your boyfriend now?"

"Boyfriend..." Blair muttered to herself. "No. He's not anything."

"And yet he's talking to your mother like..."

"Its nothing," Blair said. "I'm sure of it."

Harold gave her another hug.

"I just don't want you to be caught up in someone like him," he said sincerely.

"What does that mean?" Blair asked, feeling the sense of being offended. "'Someone like him?'"

"The Basses aren't the greatest people, lets just say," Harold finished.

"Have you even talked to him?" Blair asked, her voice rising at the end. She didn't like that her father was talking this way about Chuck. It didn't mean anything, but Chuck wasn't a bad person. A lot of people failed to grasp that fact. He was just lost sometimes. Like her.

"I thought you said there wasn't anything going on between you two," Harold said sternly.

"There's not," Blair said awkwardly. Her father was usually not so... fatherly like. They were so similar and it was strange hearing him be stern towards a boy she was with.

"Not anymore."

"Well everyone makes mistakes," Harold said genuinely.

But that was the problem. Blair didn't think that he ever was a mistake. He was just... Chuck.

Blair sat between her father and Serena at dinner. And she knew it wasn't right. She was aware that her father's and her relationship had suffered since he witnessed her attack on Miss Iowa or whatever, but she had no idea how much they differed now. They used to share everything and now she knew that he couldn't accept the man that she herself couldn't even get away from.

She could feel his gaze on her face. It was... penetrating. Like everything else about him. But she wouldn't let him get to her. She couldn't. Not in front of her father. Not like this.

"B," Serena's voice said in her ear.

Blair was aware of what the repercussion was. It was the same reason Chuck was staring at her. As if he almost was daring her to touch her food. She just kept pushing it around on her plate. Once again, her father was oblivious to it.

"Are you feeling alright, darling?" Harold asked.

"Fine," Blair said disjointedly. It was hard thinking straight when a certain someone was staring at her like that.

"I'll be right back," she muttered as she pushed out her chair and left the table. Serena looked worriedly after her while her father just returned to his dinner. No one else noticed the other vacant seat at the table.

Blair was highly aware of the damage she was doing to her body. It wasn't like she was dense or anything. Everyone seemed to think that there was something wrong with her, that she thought she was doing right by herself. That wasn't it at all. It was just that her need for perfection was stronger than her need for self sufficiency. And she wasn't dying. There wasn't really a problem.

At least, there wasn't really a problem until she felt him behind her from the position on her knees on the tiled bathroom floor, his hands winding around her hair, holding it back. She stood to meet the heated gaze of anger. Blair exhaled in defeat.

"Stay out of this, Chuck," Blair warned as he followed her with his eyes to the sink.

"I thought you stopped," he said bluntly as she washed her hands.

"I did."

"Then what the hell is this?" he demanded.

"A moment of weakness," she clarified.

"Don't do this--"

"I said stay out of it," Blair snapped.

"You don't get it, do you, Waldorf?" Chuck sneered. "Because you're not just hurting yourself when you do this. You're hurting me too."

"An unfortunate side effect," Blair said. "Its still none of your business."

"Like hell it isn't," Chuck snapped. "Don't do that."
"Do what?" Blair asked, suddenly feeling extremely tired.

"Don't shut me out just because I was the only one who was here to catch you when you fell," he said decadently.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Blair said. "You were just here. That doesn't make you responsible for anything."

"Oh really?" he asked. "So that wasn't you in the bathroom for the first time in seventh grade. That wasn't you who I gave aspirin to after I found you in the bathroom at the Sheppard Wedding? That wasn't you at Thanksgiving?"

"Maybe you were there all those times," Blair said. "But that's over now."

"Don't even attempt to delude yourself into thinking that for one second," Chuck said heatedly.

"Whatever," Blair said scornfully. "Just know that I don't need you to catch me."

"Someone has to," Chuck said. "You won't do it yourself."

"Well I've been taking care of myself a long time before you came along," Blair told him coldly.