Chapter Two: You Caught Yourself a Bass

Ok, so thanks a million to everyone who reviewed! I was, like, peeing myself when I saw that people were reviews. Well, not really, but I was pretty damn happy. So as a reward, I wrote an extra long chapter (that took me FORVER and a day to write). Imagine what could happen if you reviewed every chapter?

Remember: I don't own any of the characters, which sucks, but I do own the plottage.

"Chuck Bass, get your ass out of bed!"

Chuck groaned as he threw a pillow at whoever was talking.

"Seriously, dude, you need to move it. You have a tux fitting in two hours, and we all know how long it takes you to look good," Mark Ryan said, not looking up from his blackberry as he scrolled through Chuck's schedule. His eyes wandered to the sleeping billionaire on the bed and sighed. His job didn't pay him enough to do this.

He walked over, whipped the blanket off of Chuck and smirked as he heard curse words leave his boss's mouth. Chuck wouldn't dare fire him, he knew everything possible about Chuck Bass, and that could be a dangerous thing.

"Mark! I told you, I want today off!"

"You didn't say that until today, so I truly don't care. Now get up before I have to get the bucket of water like yesterday." Chuck scrambled out of bed like a five year old and into the bathroom, before the sound of water coming on filled the bedroom.

You would think Chuck and Mark wouldn't have to go through this little game every morning, but this was standard for them.

Within an hour, Chuck Bass was clean, dressed in a suit, and eating a donut. There was some gala that he needed to attend soon, and he needed a new tux after a one night stand spilt scotch on his jacket. But that night had involved Swedish twins, so Chuck didn't mind getting a new suit.

"Morning Sleeping Beauty," Mark said as he entered the kitchen. Chuck groaned in response as he continued to eat his donut. He like chocolate donuts with blue sprinkles, not pink, because he was a boy. A masculine boy.

"So, Chuck, we should probably leave now because there is an accident on Fifth Avenue, and that's where your suit fitting is, which means we have to take the long way." The long included going by NYU where all the kids with dreadlocks and tattoo's lived.

Yah man.

"We? How about me. You can clear my schedule for tomorrow, because I am taking tomorrow off, whether you like it or not." Chuck replied, before slamming the door behind him. Mark muttered something insulting at Chuck as he pulled out his Blackberry. He loved to hate his job.

Chuck wandered outside before reaching his limo. His driver, Arthur, smiled at Chuck before opening the door to the limo. He entered without saying anything and in moments, the limo began to move. Chuck leaned his head against the window, the familiar scenery. He was bored, and his tux fitting was just pointless.

The limo paused in traffic, and Chuck sighed with annoyance. For god sake, didn't the people in Manhattan know that he was traveling? His eyes continued to follow each girl that passed his limo until his eyes landed on a chocolate curled brunette.

"God, can these people move?!" Blair mumbled, pushing past a couple who was too busy swapping DNA then getting to class. Her eyes drifted over to a limo that was paused in traffic. Stupid rich people.

She was rich, so she shouldn't be talking.

Suddenly, the wind was knocked out of the petite brunette and Blair fell to the ground, her papers and books went everywhere. She swore under her breath as she got up from the ground and tried to pick up as much stuff as she could possibly gather.

Chuck watched the scene unfold, and knew that he could possibly be her prince charming…or tease her for what had just unfolded. Hm…which one seemed more appealing at this point?

"Hey superstar, you need help?" he called from his window. Blair jumped and hit the concrete again, moaning in protest.

"What the fuck is your problem, asshole?!" she yelled at him. Chuck's eyebrows rose.

"Its not asshole, it Chuck Bass" he replied, smirking. He opened the limo door, ignoring the protest of his driver. Arthur could pull over, no problem. Chuck stood over the brunette, not bothering to help her, and place his Italian leather shoes on one of her books.

Blair rolled her eyes and sighed. "Can I help you?"

"Maybe."

"With what?"

"Meeting me for dinner tonight?" Chuck's eyes sparkled as Blair shook her head in disgust. "No? Then how about a name?"

Blair pondered over this for a moment. "No."

Chuck looked at her for a moment. Did she just…reject him? That was completely unheard of in Chuck Bass land! He was CHUCK BASS for god sake! "Well, I wouldn't want a an NYU girl anyways." even if she had chocolate brown curls and beautiful brown eyes and-and-and….

The brunette sighed in frustration when she looked at her watch. Her next class started in ten minutes, there was no way she'd get there on time anymore, considering Chuck wouldn't move his foot from her book. She glanced at Chuck, who was smirking at her. "Us NYU girls don't appreciate billionaires making us late to economics class anyways," she replied coldly.

She had economics' class? Didn't she realize that Chuck was the perfect excuse to get out of the class today or that he could make it seem like he was holding her up. Which he was, but details didn't matter. "You know, I could help you out" he pointed to himself "Youngest ruling billionaire in Manhattan probably could talk to your teacher or something," he knelt down beside her "I'd come with a price, though."

Blair thought about that for a minute. Chuck was willing to help her out for most likely a date. Honestly, she'd rather have her eyes poked out with forks then go on a date with this dude. BUT she hated being late to one of her favorite classes.

"Fine, Basstard, you can take me to my class. You get to carry my books for me too," Chuck was about to protest but suddenly he felt a rather heavy weight in his arms. He cursed in response, but remained rather calm as he told himself, taking this girl on a date would be fun. So he followed her through the campus of NYU, hoping that each building signaled by purple flags would be hers. But no, her building had to be the only building that was, like, miles away from where their journey began.

Blair was humming though, as she walked in front of Chuck. Ah, the feeling of having nothing in her arms. She had even straightened her purple dress and headband for class, leaving her feeling even more confident then usual.

As the two reached the building, her class had to be the farthest class from the first floor, but at least they were allowed to take the elevator for this part. Chuck was almost sweating. Almost. The two exited the elevator on the fifth floor and walked quietly down the hallway. They hadn't said anything since the journey had begun, but that was fine. There was no need for words between the two, because Blair hated him.

They stopped right in front of the door and Blair looked at him. "You embarrass me at all and all deals are off."

Chuck smirked. "I'll pick you up around seven at your dorm?"

"How do you know which dorm is mine?"

"Besides the fact you wrote down your dorm and dorm number down on you notebook?" Chuck teased, nodding to one of the books in his arms. Blair sighed in frustration. Whatever, one date with Chuck Bass couldn't exactly be horrible…right?

Blair took a deep breath and opened the door, allowing all the students in the room and Professor Maler to look at her and Chuck Bass. Blair gave a small waved before walking past a couple rows of students to her own desk. No, this embarrassing moment wasn't done yet. Why would it be? "Good morning Miss Waldorf, nice of us to join us."

She trudged back up to Chuck. "It's Professor Maler" she mumbled, ignoring the fact that her professor was gaping at Chuck like a fish and all the girls in the room were checking him out.

For some reason, it bothered her a little.

"Good morning Professor Maler!" Chuck said, walking down to where the professor was standing. The guy was looking a Chuck with such admiration that Chuck was amazed this dude wasn't kissing the floor he was walking on.

"Ch-Ch-Chuck Bass!" The professor said, shaking Chuck's hand as though he was a celebrity, "Look here everybody! Chuck Bass!"

Chuck chuckled. "Yes, professor. I'm sorry that Miss Waldorf is late, we got tied up in something before hand and it was completely my fault. Perhaps I could talk to your class today about my business to make up for it?" Professor Maler gaped at him some more before talking about how it was such and honor. Chuck's thoughts were far away from that.

He studied the brunette, trying to figure out where he had heard the last name 'Waldorf'. It was so familiar that-oh my god. It dawned on him. She was Eleanor Waldorf's daughter! He had heard that the fashion designer had a daughter, but he had never met her. It was obvious now, it you actually thought about it. Both were hostile, and Blair had her eyes. Those big gorgeous eyes. But her chest was way more developed then Eleanor's ever would be.

Blair shook her head in disgust, guessing what Chuck could be thinking about and sat down in her desk. Chuck sent her a wink as he told the professor, once again, that it was not a problem. He just needed to make a phone call to his assistant to let him know that he was going to be busy for the next eighty-four minutes.

Mark would not be happy about that.

***

Eighty-four minutes later, Blair Waldorf wanted to bang her head against a wall. Chuck seemed more comfortable talking about himself then anything else possible. Chuck, however, was having a grand time, and once he was done talking to the class (the professor had continued to gape at Chuck like he was Brad Pitt or something), he hurried out of the room, trying to catch up with the brunette.

"You still haven't told me your first name, Miss Waldorf," he said, catching up to her. Blair rolled her eyes. "And instead of dinner, how about attending a gala with me?"

Blair's eyebrow shot up. He was taking her to a gala for their date? Seriously? She hadn't been to one since…well, the incident occurred between her and her mother. "Fine. Seven in front of my door, not a minute later. I hate waiting," she stated, before turning in the opposite direction Chuck was going in to exit the building.

"You won't be disappointed." he called after her. Blair paused and looked at him, a small smile tugging the corner of her lips. Oh, that boyfriend better be worried.

"It's Blair," she said, simply, before continuing on her way. Chuck watched her go, not getting over that perhaps this was a female version of him. A small smile appeared on his lips as he watched her disappear.

He continued to have the smile on his lips as he reached his limo. Arthur was about to scold him, but noticed that his boss was actually smiling. Chuck Bass never smiled, he only smirked. Obviously, something had happened in NYU. Something good, and Arthur knew better then to bother Chuck.

Mark, however, didn't, which was obvious because as soon as Chuck sat down in the limo, his cell phone rang.

"You told me you were going to a tux fitting, not a college class!" Mark yelled over the phone. Chuck frowned.

"I have a date tonight."

Mark stopped short. Chuck had never once brought a girl to a gala. Sure, he had brought many girls at the same time, but never just one girl. Actually, he hadn't been seen with a girl at a gala for quiet some time now. On the spare time, there were pictures of him with thousands of girls, but never just one girl. One girl.

"And this 'going to college' act you pulled today was to get her to come with you?"

"You know me too well, Marcus."

Mark flinched when Chuck used his full name. "Well, your suit fitting had to get canceled, so you'll just have to wear one of the other ones you have. And Chuck, I'm glad you're taking a date tonight."

There, it was one of those serious moments that Mark and Chuck fulfilled. It happened, oh, about one every two weeks. "Nate is going to the gala with some blond I think, so you'll probably see him there." And with that, Chuck was greeted with dial tone.

Ah well.

Chuck took out his cell phone. He needed to make a few phone calls if he wanted tonight to go perfect. And trust me, perfect wasn't in the distant horizon, it lived right next to Chuck.

Blair Waldorf, you better be ready. You just caught yourself a Bass.

R&R!