'Save me from the sequiturs
I'll pretend I didn't hear
Can't you see I'm a ghost in the wrong coat
Biting butter an crumbs?'
The next morning, cell phones across the Upper East Side beeped with as a single blast was sent out over breakfast.
We've all been wondering why C hasn't been seen without B since she got back, and it turns out that this year's worst kept secret is nothing but the truth. Our favourite pair may not have made it official, but it looks like they've been busy sealing the deal - perhaps just not in the way their families meant. From boarding school to Bass's bed? Classy, B.
"Chuck!"
Chuck was interupted from a morning of scotch as Serena stuck her head round his bedroom door. She was clutching her cell and her blonde hair was tousled, clearly agonized about something.
"Did you read Gossip Girl? Where did this even come from?"
Slowly, Chuck picked up his own phone. He'd been ignoring it since last night. His eyes narrowed as he read the blast for himself. Serena was still gazing at him like she wanted an answer. "Well," he murmured drily. "She won't be very happy about this." He wasn't really even addressing Serena as he wondered if she'd choked over her morning tea reading it. She wouldn't be able to pretend it had never happened now. He glanced at the text again. Sealing the deal.
"Was this you?" Serena demanded. Blair hadn't come back to the apartment. Chuck had spent most of last night getting drunk. It didn't take a genius to work out they'd had some kind of fight.
Chuck just gave her a look. "Why would I do this?" he enquired. "Just a shot in dark, but I'd say it was the same person who tried to haze Blair from Hamilton House drinks." He'd seen who else was at the bar last night.
"What?"
Serena was frowning, and he snorted. "Please." Almost weary. "Don't tell me you don't recognise a Constance trick when you see one."
The blonde stared. "Penelope."
Chuck just rolled his eyes. But Serena was already heading out the door, a sudden set to her jaw. Chuck picked up his phone again and sent a text of his own to Gossip Girl. This one detailing exactly what Penelope had got up to with her cello teacher throughout high school - he'd known the dirt would come in handy some day.
And then his phone was ringing, and his eyes narrowed again - this time in hatred - when he saw who it was.
"What?" he snarled as he picked up. Evelyn might actually bring herself to visit him if he kept rejecting her calls.
"Darling." Her voice was a murmur over the line, but there was a note of danger underneath. "I just went to visit the Waldorfs...and Carter seems to be under the impression that Blair is now living with him again."
"That's because she is," Chuck grit back.
"Is that wise, given her condition?"
Chuck's jaw clenched. "She's fine." She wasn't exactly fine, and he knew it - but he couldn't stand the sneer in Evelyn's voice. Her condition. And just because Blair hated living in that penthouse didn't mean she couldn't - or wouldn't. She'd stay until she felt she'd proved her point. Even longer, if she was that desperate not to live with him any more.
"Charles." It was little more than a purr now, seething with soft irritation. "I'm surprised you're not more concerned. The impression I got from Carter was that you don't care at all - and I think you know that's not the impression that will win anyone over. Have you forgotten how important it is to show certain people you're serious?"
And by certain people, he knew, she meant the board at Bass Industries.
"I haven't seen you making any effort at all," Evelyn pressed silkily. "You were supposed to be committed by the time you got back from the Hamptons. Like your father keeps saying," she sneered, "Summer is over. This might have washed when you were still at school, but we don't have time now for daily updates on your sex life while Blair runs all over the Upper East Side." The cold malice had entered. "Do you understand me, sweetheart?" Chuck's grip had tightened on the phone; Evelyn ignored his silence. "You need to take better care of her."
"I don't think," Chuck said acidly, "That she wants to be taken care of."
There was a pause before Evelyn spoke again, and this time it was dripping, gentle, full of menace. He'd pushed her. "If you lose Blair, then you're the only one who'll pay the consequences. You and your miserable father. You do remember that, don't you? If you take away my other options, then I'll have no choice but to drag Barthlomew down with me. And then your father will be disgraced and you won't have a penny." She sighed quietly. "Darling. Do I need to tell you again?"
"Blair doesn't want me." It came out cold and viscious; because some part of him, somewhere, knew that that couldn't be true. Because it was them.Because she'd wanted him just last week and Blair Waldorf did not get bored. And if she really didn't want him -
"Then you make her want you." Evelyn's voice cut. "It's not hard, Charles. Three little words and she'll do whatever you want. That," she snorted, "Even worked for your father."
Chuck hung up, furious, and tossed his phone to the floor where he didn't have to look at it any more. But his jaw was rigid and his eyes burned for a moment. Hollow.
Penelope was happily gossiping with the other Hamilton House girls when the door opened and Serena appeared. For a moment she was framed in the light from outside, tall and truly terrifying as those blue eyes landed on just Penelope.
"I know what you did to Blair," she announced, very coldly. She blazed over Penelope's attempts to deny it. "You might not know Blair very well, but I can tell you one thing about her. If you push her, then she'll push back." Her arms were folded as she stared the other down from her full height. "And when she does, I'll be right behind her. So don't even try it."
Penelope blanched a bit. She'd forgotten that Serena could be quite so intimidating when she turned it on. Still, she tried to bolster herself by glancing round at the other girls. "We're not in high school any more, S. You're not queen here. You don't scare me."
Serena's mouth curved, just that faint bit. Her arms were still folded. "If you cross Blair again, then I'm not the one you need to be scared of." She gave Penelope a final look before she swept out.
She was supposed to be meeting Nate afterwards; he happily pulled her into his arms to kiss her, but he'd seen all the blasts and Chuck's state and Blair's empty room too.
"So what did I miss last night?" he asked as they took one of the benches on Columbia's campus. He'd already bought her favourite yoghurt and was tucking into his own.
Serena pulled a face, opening the container. "I had a fight with Blair. A pretty big one." She paused. "I just...I feel like all we've done since we got back from the Hamptons is fight. Over Chuck, over Columbia..." She didn't know what she was trying to say. Partially, that she was worried about Blair - but also that she hadn't realised it would be this hard. She'd been so excited about her best friend coming back that she hadn't even imagined they'd argue. Did that make her a bad person, she wondered? Was it a sign that maybe she and Blair weren't as good friends as they'd always believed? The thought of that made her feel ten times worse. She loved Blair, and that couldn't be true.
But to her surprise, Nate chuckled.
"What?" She couldn't stop her own faint smile, half indignation. "How is this funny, Archibald?"
"It's not," he grinned. "Just reminds me of the old days."
Serena blinked at him. "The old days?"
"You and Blair always used to fight, Serena. You drove each other crazy half the time - clothes and toys and tea parties...I mean, me and Chuck probably deserve a Nobel Prize for how much negotiation we had to do between you."
"We weren't that bad," Serena protested, mouth twitching a little at the memory - because maybe they had been. "But," she admitted, "I thought we'd grown up."
"No," Nate assured her, cheeky, "You just haven't spent longer than a month together since. Besides," he added; and his tone was a little gentler as he nudged her, those blue eyes sparkling. "You're always there for each other when it counts. That hasn't changed."
Serena's face softened. "No." No - she would always be there for her best friend. And she couldn't imagine Blair not being there for her either. She smiled, reluctant, as she nudged him back. "When did you get so smart?"
"It's the pot," he explained, and they both grinned.
"You know what we need to do?" Serena sighed. But her gaze was determined now, and Nate already knew what she was going to say.
He stood up, offering her his hand. His tone was just as firm as hers.
"Bring Blair home."
Tish stretched idly on Carter's bed. Max was out dealing with 'business' - Carter suspected he'd more likely stayed the night at some girl's house, since he'd disappeared from the poker night by the time they'd emerged - so they didn't have to worry about getting caught this morning. He'd thrown Evelyn out as quickly as possible so he could get back to bed with Tish.
"What time are they reading the will?" Carter enquired as he explored her neck slowly with his mouth.
"Not till twelve," she drawled, running lazy fingers through his hair. She did like how delightfully mussed it was in the morning. "I hope it doesn't take too long."
"My parents' took two hours," Carter muttered. His lip twisted a little as his hand traced her bare hip. "But I doubt anyone else would leave instructions as precise as my mother's." It was a throwaway comment, like always.
"Did they leave you everything?" Tish asked with vague interest. She wasn't particularly concerned when it came to herself, but she was aware her father cared whether or not her uncle left everything to his son. He'd told her it was important, anyway. Quite a few times. Any time she'd asked Max he told her not to worry her sexy little head about it.
"Me and Blair."
Tish tilted her head. "I suppose that's the downside of having a sibling," she sighed. "Though at least yours is nice," she added as an afterthought. She looked mildly entertained as something else occurred to her. "So who gets this place if either of you get married? Sounds very complicated, if you ask me."
"Well," Carter smirked wryly, "First of all, I don't intend on getting married for a very long time." Because then he wouldn't get to do this, he reflected as his fingers slid over Tish's thigh and up her barely-there slip.
Tish made a noise of contentment as his touch reached its destination, arching the long curve of her back for a moment. "Mmm. But you'd make a very good husband, darling. And I'd rather like to go to your wedding."
Carter rolled his eyes.
But Tish actually was quite intrigued by the idea of Carter in love. And he probably would make quite a good husband, she reflected - he took good care of his sister, who he obviously loved. Plus he was fantastic in bed.
"Besides," her lips pursed a little as she reflected on his sister and the rather fascinating development she'd seen in Ibizia with Chuck, "I'm sure Blair will get married soon."
That did make Carter glower. He sincerely hoped she wasn't referring to Chuck. No way in hell was his eighteen year-old sister getting married 'soon'. "Technically the penthouse is in my name," he growled. "Blair got the majority share in Waldorf Designs, and I got all the property." So Chuck would not be seizing their home to make a little love nest for him and Blair. Although he doubted his sister would want the penthouse anyway.
At that, Tish perked up. "The clothing line? Sounds like she got the better end of the deal there. I used to love Waldorf Designs...I had the most gorgeous Eleanor Waldorf orginal," she sighed. "It cost nearly as much as my second pony." She paused as she thought about it. "So your sister really is quite the catch. Lucky Chuck."
Carter scowled. "She won't get it till she's twenty one. No one knows about this, anyway." For precisely that reason - he and Blair had decided no one would know until Blair took the reins herself. There had been no point in putting that much pressure on an eleven year-old.
And lucky Chuck wouldn't be getting anything. Basstard.
Blair had dressed with a new, resigned sense of purpose. She wasn't going to sit around wondering how to be Blair Waldorf any more - she'd already shown herself that she didn't know how. So she would go back to doing what she did know. She would throw herself into Columbia and get the best grades and graduate as the best student to give herself the best future. And she would get the best internship, which was why she currently poring over carefully arranged application forms. She wanted something that she could devote all her energy to. Something that would challenge her. Something that would help her get to the top. She'd decided on applying to fashion magazines, because what better way to prepare her for the company that would eventually pass to her? (Because the truth was that she'd never be a designer like her mother).
She'd even dressed the part - hair carefully curled, crisp pink pencil skirt with a cream cardigan and tight floral blouse. As long as she acted like she knew and looked like she knew then there wouldn't be a problem. More nightmares last night; but fine. She was used to them. She'd dealt with them by herself for the past six years and she would continue to do so.
The awful blast about her and Chuck had just confirmed it. Classy. Well, she was going to get that class back. She was going to go back what she actually knew, and stop trying to be something she wasn't. And she ignored how heavy it made her heart, the dull weight; because at least she was safe with the devil she knew.
She wished it wasn't quite so silent in her room.
But she forced herself to focus on filling out the forms. That was all that mattered. She already had the glowing references from Canterbury Accademy, so -
"B?"
There was a hesitant knock and her bedroom door was pushed open, revealing two very sheepish looking blondes. Blair wished her heart didn't soar quite so much just at the sight of them. She remembered herself as she remembered her conversation with Serena the night before, stiffening a little.
"Serena. Nate." She swallowed. "To...what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I wanted to say sorry for last night," Serena admitted. "I shouldn't have judged you for Chuck."
Blair wished she didn't even have to hear his name. But then, she realised - she needed to move past this. Past Chuck. They'd managed to be friends of a sort while she was in boarding school; she knew how to do that. Couldn't they go back to that?
"I-"
She was cut off as all their phones went simultaneously.
"Wow," Nate muttered. "She's going crazy with these blasts." Gossip Girl, of course.
Blair's eyes widened a little as she read all the sordid details of Penelope's musical affair. Details, frankly, that she'd rather not have know. Gossip Girl had got a tad enthusiastic with cello puns and double entendres.
"Oh," Serena added guiltily. "And I also realised what you were saying about Penelope may have been right..."
Blair stared at her. "Did you do this?" she asked in amazement as she held up her phone. But Serena looked equally confused.
"No. I almost wish I had though." Blair couldn't help it; she grinned faintly at her best friend. In gratitude and an odd mix of pride - because it took a lot for Serena to be deliberately malicious. "It must have been Chuck," Serena frowned.
Blair stilled. Chuck had done this?
But then only Chuck would come up with something this brilliant. Of course it had been Chuck. She forced away the pang that made her feel - an actual lump in her throat, because there was nothing she loved more than revenge; nothing they loved more.
"Probably thought that last blast made him sound whipped," Blair muttered hastily. C hasn't been seen without B since she got back - didn't exactly help his playboy image.
Serena and Nate just exchanged a glance.
"Anyway," Blair managed. "I'm sorry too."
Serena looked relieved as she wrapped the smaller girl in a hug. She glanced at Nate again, and they both gave each other quick smiles. "That's not the only reason we came." She gazed down at her best friend. "B, you can't live here."
"Serena-"
"No," Serena cut her off. "I need you! What happened to all of us living together?"
Blair closed her eyes for a second. "I'm not exactly on the best terms with Chuck right now." To put it mildly.
But Serena had grabbed her hands. "I don't care. I need you, B." And if Chuck's moping and drinking ever since she'd left had been anything to go by, he did too. Serena refused to give up on her two best friends. Even if they had been sleeping together behind her back. "You can't leave me alone with two boys," she added, winningly.
"Just because you and Chuck are...you know, doesn't mean you can cut us out," Nate agreed. Blair tried not to wince at you and Chuck. Because her and Chuck were what, exactly?
"I'm not cutting you out-" she attempted.
"So move back into your room," Serena begged before she could go on. "Please?"
And Blair wanted to live with them. The problem was that she didn't know how to keep up with them. She wanted everything to be neat - she either was Blair Waldorf or she wasn't. She had her old life or she didn't. She needed boundaries.
(But she needed her best friend too).
And, as ever, Serena was practically impossible to resist. But living that close to Chuck -
"I can't imagine Chuck will want me there," she said drily, an attempt to keep her voice light. He had no reason to. "And it is his place." She was never usually this reasonable - the truth was that the idea of living with him again, after everything that had happened, terrified her. How was she supposed to go back to boarding school Blair with him watching her every move? And he really wouldn't want her there.
Nate opened his mouth to say that that was quite obviously untrue, but Serena beat him to it.
"You don't know that. You need to talk to him."
Before Blair could argue, the door had opened again and Carter appeared. He didn't bother greeting Nate or Serena. "Tish and I are going out to lunch. You coming?"
"I'll pass," Blair said sweetly. Icily.
Her brother narrowed his eyes at her.
Serena and Nate exchanged another glance - bemused this time - because they hadn't seen Blair and Carter fight in a long time. Not like this. They teased each other and wound each other up, but Blair was never this cold with him. They were Waldorfs, after all.
But Carter walked out and Blair ignored him.
She turned to her best friends instead. "Ok," she said, like Carter had never interupted. There was a hard light in her eyes. "I'll talk to Chuck."
Blair had to force herself into the car with Nate and Serena and into the elevator up to the apartment. She wouldn't have been all that surprised if Chuck threw her out anyway. She highly doubted he wanted to see her. She steeled herself as they entered the living room - Chuck was lounging on the couch with a sheaf of papers; he wasn't in a suit, so Bart obviously wasn't back yet.
Nate and Serena looked at each other warily. Chuck was watching Blair. He said nothing, eyes slanted.
Nate cleared his throat. "So we'll just, um...be in the other room." The two of them managed not to stare back at their best friends, though they were clearly desperate to, as they made their exit.
Leaving Chuck and Blair alone.
Blair let out a short breath and forced herself towards Chuck. She perched on the arm of the sofa and tried not to remember the last time they'd had sex on the very same surface. Her gaze slipped up his pale pink shirt to that dark gaze. His dark hair was ruffled like he'd just got out of bed, but the scotch bottle at his side told a different story.
His lip curled as he followed her eyes. "Want some?" It was half a sneer. Because his heart had somehow ended up in his throat just seeing her, back in his penthouse, and she'd never looked more adorably put-together. He wanted her back. He also wanted to know what the hell was going on with her. Her flawless make up did nothing to hide the fact that she'd clearly got no sleep last night. As expected.
"No. Thank you." It came out tight, clipped and too polite - like she was speaking to someone she barely knew. Instead of someone whose same thick dark hair she'd had her hands buried in just last week. Instead of Chuck, who she knew better than she knew anyone. Instead of the person she'd told she didn't want just last night. She folded her hands in her neat little lap, spine still rigid. "I...Serena and Nate said they wanted me to move back in."
He looked at her flatly. "And what do you want?"
Apart from not me? But it was too ragged in his chest.
She swallowed. "I want to move back in. As long as it's not a problem for you."
Chuck appraised her in silence. His mouth curved. "I was under the impression you didn't want to be anywhere near me, Waldorf. You changed your mind already?" He was challenging her.
Blair exhaled. "I want us...to be friends."
"Friends?" His lip curled again - and with good reason, she knew. Who had she been kidding? This was Chuck. "That's not what you were saying last week," he said, very quietly. He couldn't stand it; seeing her so close, and suddenly so far away on the stupid couch. His voice was heated. "What changed?" He sat up so that he was leaning into her, trapping her against the arm as his eyes tracked hers. "You're not bipolar, Waldorf - how can you suddenly decide youdon't want me?" The therapy coming out - Carter catching them - what was it?
Blair's breath caught because he was too close. She realised, then, that she needed to do this. She needed to draw a line. Because Chuck terrified her. She needed him to see that Blair Waldorf was long gone - and she needed him to see it fast, so that there were no expectations and nothing for her to fail. So she had to push him away first.
"Carter catching us...made me realise that this was a mistake." She lifted her eyes to his, willing him to believe her.
"You're the one who set all the boundaries for this," he growled. "You're the one who wanted no strings attached."
"Like you didn't want the same," she shot back, forgetting herself for a second. There was an odd look in his eyes. She thought he was going to say something - but his mouth remained closed, so she forced herself to ignore it. "I just want things to go back to the way they were before I got back." When she knew the way everything was supposed to be.
"Waldorf," he said, bitterly. She was so close now that he could smell her, the hot scent of her body - she wasn't being serious, was she? "It's a little late for that."
"It's not," she bit. She had to draw the line now. She had to make this work. She had to get the control back. She paused for the briefest of seconds as her gaze moved over his face. "Fine. Me living here was a stupid idea."
"You can live here," he snarled. "I don't have a problem with that." He had a problem with her pretending they could just be friends. He had a problem with her wanting that at all. He watched her. There was obviously something going on - and he was going to find out what it was. Because sooner or later, she would crack. "All right," he said, shortly. "Let's go back to how it was before."
It was obvious he didn't believe they could - but she was going to show him. He'd see. (And he'd see that it was for the best; and this way, she could at least leave with a shred of dignity).
There was an awkward knock on the door, and then Nate popped his head around. Followed by Serena. "So...not to rush you guys, or anything, but we were kind of hungry..."
Chuck rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. We've sortedit."
Blair shot him a quick glance. "We have," she agreed tightly.
Serena looked delighted. "So...you're moving back in?"
"I'm moving back in."
Blair's first day at W magazine had gone better than she'd even expected. Perhaps because it had distracted her perfectly from thoughts of Chuck. But she'd enjoyed it - currying favour with her new boss and sabotaging the other interns was what she excelled in.
Not only that, but she'd as good as got a sign that she was doing the right thing by reverting to boarding school Blair. Because it turned out that there was an intern there who'd only ever known that version of her anyway. She had, frankly, no idea what Dan Humphrey was doing interning at a fashion magazine - he'd mumbled something about writing - but she'd been oddly overjoyed to see him.
So much so that she'd even agreed to get coffee with him during their break. And it was easy, she realised; talking to him. There were no expectations for her to keep him interested. To keep him wanting more. He expected her to be a bitch, and she was - she expected him to be rambly and a little awkward, and he was. Something that she could do with her eyes closed.
She wrinkled her nose at him now. "NYU, seriously? After all that time going on about Dartmouth?"
He gulped his cappuaccino and launched into a very convoluted story about mentoring problems and writer's block and references - but they were cut off, before Blair could quite make sense of it, by the airy tones of Tish.
"Oh, goody." She dropped down next them at their table with a rather pleased smile. "I was afraid I'd never work out this Gossip Girl Spotter thing - but here you are!"
Blair raised an eyebrow. "You were looking for me?"
Tish pulled a long face. "Carter's in a foul mood and Max is still...doing whatever that business is," she waved a hand; "But it's still not sorted so I'm stuck in New York." She sighed. "I do love New York, but not when the boys are being so dull. And this is your fault, you know," she added with mild reproof. "Carter's been a mess since you left. Not that I blame you," she sighed. "Carter really shouldn't try to spoil your fun." She picked up Dan's cappuaccino without seeming to notice and took a long sip. "That blonde girl isn't here, right?" She glanced around the cafe as it occurred to her - and it was only then that she did notice Dan.
Dan, whose mouth had gone a little slack-jawed since she'd wafted in and was now having great difficulty speaking as he tried not to stare. So he'd definitely noticed her.
"Hello. Who's this?"
Since Dan was still stuttering away, Blair thought she'd save them all some time. "This is Humphrey. He's a writer." She couldn't quite conceal a smirk as she said it. She bet Dan had been waiting all his life to be introduced that way.
Tish blinked at him. "Really? What do you write?" The idea of anyone doing that as an actual profession interested her. She listened while he mumbled on about short stories and articles, and decided that he was rather sweet. In a scruffy way. He didn't look like he'd ever had sex before, and that interested her too. She wasn't accustomed to taking the time to pity anyone, but she did feel some sympathy for virgins and everything they were missing out on. Actually, it made her sad.
Blair rolled her eyes, but there was a layer of slightly gleeful amusement there. Dan was enraptured. She predicted that a batch of short stories about an unattainable red-head were now in the making. And she knew enough about Tish now to know that her next conquest was clearly in the making too.
"So. Who's Dan Humphrey?"
Chuck prowled into the living room, where Blair was curled up on the sofa with her class notes, and slid down next to her. She had to resist the urge to scoot away from him because she could feel his heat. This was exactly why she'd been avoiding the apartment. Nate and Serena were currently ensconsced in their bedroom so would be no help.
Because as determined as Blair was to prove that she could just be friends with Chuck, he was equally determined to prove that she couldn't.
She wanted to ask why he was stalking her, but reminded herself that friends made small talk. "I went to school with him, and now he's interning at W too." The way that she was sitting left her curled into him, her knees brushing the warmth of his thigh. "Why?" She shifted away from him, under the guise of straightening her legs out - and froze as she realised it had hitched her dress up. She hastily tugged it down over her tights; but Chuck's gaze had rested, too late, on her thighs.
He smirked, faintly. "No reason. I saw a picture of the two of you on Gossip Girl...is that Humphrey as in Humphrey Records?"
"Yes," Blair snapped. "His father owns the company." Why was it suddenly so hot? She picked up her notes again to try and concentrate on them.
Chuck stretched one arm over the sofa, just above her shoulders. She knew that if she made a fuss she'd just get that challenge, an arched eyebrow like she was the one making a big deal out of nothing. Daring her to tell him what was wrong. But damnit, he was far too close. His fingers almost brushed her shoulder, and she could smell his cologne.
She jumped as he leaned over her to glance at the papers in her hand.
"Test tomorrow?" he enquired.
"French history," she muttered back.
"Want me to test you?" He was still smirking.
"No. Thank you."
He was about to say something back - but she was saved by the bell. Literally, as her phone went. She was relieved for the chance to put some distance between them as she snatched up the device; so relieved that she didn't check the caller ID until it was too late.
"Blair."
She managed to repress a groan. "Damien. Hi."
Chuck's ears had pricked up at that - he was watching her now. Very closely. She tried to turn her back on him, but not seeing him just made her feel even more on edge. It was hard to focus on what Damien was saying at all.
"So, are you up for it?"
"Yes," she said distractedly. "Sure."
It was only then that she realised just how pleased Damien sounded. "Then I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven? I'm sure Monsier Dupres can't wait to meet you."
She realised must have just agreed to the State Dinner. Oh, hell. Chuck was still watching.
"Uh, tomorrow at seven sounds great. See you then." She supposed, as she hung up, that it wouldn't be too bad - an evening of diplomats she could enjoy. And trying to join La Table Elitaire would give her something else to focus on.
Chuck's eyes were narrowed on her now, though his face was calm and perfectly unreadable. "A date with Damien? My, my."
She lifted her chin. It was hardly a date - but anyway. "Is there a problem, Bass?"
"No," he mused. There was something darker in his gaze. "I just...wouldn't want you to give poor Dalgaard the wrong impression."
"And what would that be?" Blair asked frostily.
"That he's in any way in your league." Chuck's response was idle. "You really should stop stringing these boys along, Waldorf. It's not fair."
Blair just scowled at him. "It's not really any of your business, is it?"
Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm just asking as a friend," he purred. "Don't you and Serena usually talk about these things? Besides, you always kept me updated before you came back."
Blair snapped her mouth closed and snatched up her notes. "I'm going to study in my room."
Chuck watched her go, still smirking. He resisted the temptation to ask if she wanted any company. For now.
"B, you look amazing!" Serena cried as Blair came out from her room; Chuck had to agree.
She wore a full-length black sparkling dress, hair pulled back - just so that he could see the nape of her neck, Chuck was sure - with gorgeous pearl earrings and heels. He tried not to glower. She was wasting this on someone like Damien Dalgaard?
Blair attempted to ignore the heat of his gaze.
Serena squeezed her hands. "Have a great time. And don't forget - breakfast tomorrow! Cece's in town for mom's birthday, and they're planning a party...so I need all the buffers I can get."
Blair smirked a little. "I'll be there." Lily and Cece attempting to do anything together was never a good idea.
"Say hi to Damien from me," Serena added. "And...bonjour to all those ambassadors!"
The blonde noticed the twist of Chuck's lip as he watched Blair leave; and she noticed the way Blair couldn't quite stop herself from looking back, just once. Then she was gone.
"Chuck," Serena said, warningly, once they were alone.
"What?" Chuck snapped.
"Leave it."
"Leave what?" he growled. "I'm not doing anything. Waldorf can gallivant about with all the creeps she wants."
"You know she doesn't like Damien," Serena sighed. "But - let's face it. It's not like you ever took her out on any dates."
At that, Chuck's eyes slanted in outrage. Firstly, because he had taken her out on 'dates'. He was sure, far more exciting than State Dinners. And second because Blair had been the one who hadn't wanted to call them dates after their agreement. "Wrong, van der Woodsen."
Serena glanced at him as though slightly surprised by this news. Then she sighed again. "Chuck. Just let her enjoy herself."
Chuck just gave her a look. "Funny. I didn't think anyone could enjoy themselves with Damien." He stalked out, leaving Serena to shake her head.
Actually, she thought the same. But she was hoping that once Blair realised just how awful other guys were in comparison, then she'd realise Chuck was the only one for her and they could get over whatever they were fighting about.
Serena would always be an optimist.
The State Dinner was everything Blair had expected - and she was safe, smiling and shaking the hands of powerful strangers that didn't know her. She'd found Monsieur Dupres and kept up a conversation in French, hopefully charming him. Or at least leaving an impression. Apart from Damien, in fact, the night was going very well.
Was it wild? No. But Blair knew what she was doing. She could do this.
"Blair?"
She froze at the familiar - but still not exactly familiar - voice, and turned to find herself facing Bart Bass. He looked equally jolted to see her here. She didn't think she'd spoken to him properly since she was a little girl. Even at his anniversary party, he'd been too busy with the reporter and trying to maintain his facade.
She gazed up at him now, remembering her manners. "Mr. Bass. How are you?"
Damien, at her side, wasn't very happy when he heard the man's name. Bass. They were everywhere, for God's sake. He was even less happy when the guy asked how Chuck was. As if he needed bringing up.
But Blair had noticed Bart's tone. "He's fine," she murmured. She glanced up at the older man. "I didn't realise you were back in town, though - Chuck never said?" Chuck wouldn't have needed to say, since she'd noticed that exrta tension in him whenever his father was back.
Bart cleared his throat. "I only got in yesterday. I haven't seen him yet." Of course he hadn't. "I hope he's been...behaving himself, anyway."
Blair paused. Bart was already on the verge of moving on.
"He's been working really hard," she said suddenly, before he could go. She looked at him and her gaze narrowed a little. "At Bass Industries. You should be proud of him."
Bart just nodded. Then he was gone.
Damien was positively furious. Proud of him? Working really hard? He'd assumed that Blair currently wasn't speaking to Chuck. At the very least, it was obvious that they weren't as close as they had been. So why the hell was she still defending him?