A/N: I don't know if you guys already watched 'The Grandfather', but I just want to say that finally, there are Cb scenes again. The show's ratings are still bad, though I think it's because some fans are gettng irritated. Oh, well, never mind; please review at the end!
The love in the heart long pent, now loose, now at last tumultuously bursting,
-Walt Whitman
Years ago when her parents were in the process of divorce, Blair had wondered why her father chose to leave her mother when they loved each other, after all. Didn't they love each other, didn't they love her? She could never understand why her father could not have simply stayed away from Roman and not have left them. Even after Roman was made one of the family, the confusion, the frustration remained. And when Eleanor found Cyrus, it was another betrayal, no matter how nice he was to her, it felt like she was being replaced.
But it was only now she's seeing things in a new light.
She used to blame weak will for the end of her parents' marriage. Never love, because it was unreasonable, never fate, because it went against what she wanted, and never to find a greater happiness, because they were happy as a family.
Now, she thinks it's forgivable, what Harold did. Because in this moment, when she is sitting in a cab on her way to the airport, Blair understands exactly what her father had gone through.
"We're here, miss," the cab driver says loudly, pulling over. "JFK airport."
Blair looks up suddenly, checking outside the window. "Oh, right." She reaches out to hand the fare.
She steps out with her bags and reminds herself of the enormity of what she's choosing to do. But before she loses all her courage, she steps into the airport and finds a cart to put her bags on. It wasn't really the easiest thing to do; lying to Nate and the kids, packing her bag for a trip she knows just might ruin everything, choosing him. There was a feeling of disgust, of uncertainty in her stomach all throughout, and even now, it persists.
The airport's busy as always. People on their phones and talking to someone else; it's only know she feels so apart from them all.
"Blair!"
She musters a half-smile to meet his wide one as he weaves his way to her.
"You came," he says softly. "I thought—I didn't think you were—"
"Me too."
"What made you come?"
"I didn't want to be stuck all my life," she replies faux easily, looking away from his earnest gaze. There's something about it that troubles her; him being so happy to see her, when she herself is having second thoughts about the whole thing.
"Well, I'm really glad you came." He checked the time and took her hand, nearly shocking her. "Come on."
She follows him, silently, taking in that sick feeling in her stomach. In fact, she hardly realizes it when she's on the Bass jet already until he grins back at her, asking her opinion of it.
"So what do you think? The interiors are new, replaced them with this cream colored leather. Oh, and I had the bar restocked. Want anything?"he asks, as a scotch is placed before him.
"No, no thanks. It's nice."
He raises his eyebrow at the last statement, but says nothing, and settles down on the seat.
"So Tuscany?" she questions, to make it less obvious how faraway her thoughts are.
He chuckles. "I wanted to make up for. . .last time. But we could always change destination, I mean, if you want. Do you?"
She would laugh at how nervous he is, but so is she. "No, Tuscany's great. You do owe me."
"Oh, and by the way, I checked us in as Mr and Mrs Bass," he tells her, smirking.
"What?"
"Would you want them to know what we're doing? Press can be tricky."
"And that's why you 'married' us?"
"Yes. For your own good."
She laughs. "I don't believe you, Mr Bass."
"Well, Mrs Bass, you should put your faith in your husband—"
"Oh, as if I'd ever marry you," she interjects, trying not to smile. "Ass."
"I just might divorce you now," he teases.
"My pleasure. But then, I would get millions of dollars as per divorce settlement."
"You didn't think I'd draw up a prenup?"he asks, a twinkle in his eyes.
"Weren't you the one talking about faith? And anyways," she adds as an afterthought. "If we ever do get married, which in itself has minimal chance, who says I'm taking your name?"
"Because you took Nathaniel's."
Funny, she thinks, expecting a sudden outburst of guilt, nothing comes. Nothing. She pauses for a moment, makes herself think of her family. Still nothing. She's at awe at how Chuck has made her feel better.
"Blair Archibald versus Blair Bass? I'll take Archibald any day."
"That's what you say now, Mrs Bass," he replies with a coy grin. "Wait until we get to Tuscany."
"And is that a bet? That you can make me fall in love with you by the time we get home?"
"Since you already are, I probably win by default."
A retort is on the tip of her tongue, but his eyes are so dark, and sincere, yet with that look of teasing that she can't help but stow it away for his sake. And he's probably right, though by saying it, it feels even more strange that the past few weeks of thinking about it.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. Please buckle your seatbelts and prepare for takeoff. We're expected to arrive at Tuscany at 9:30 pm. Thank you."
They settle into a comfortable silence as they start to take off, and her ears start to hurt. Everytime she gets brave enough to steal a glance from him, there's a private smile on his face, small but there. It's been a long time since she's seen him so happy, and it feels nice.
And as she snuggles next to him and he doesn't flinch, for once, she doesn't feel the need to remind herself about what she could lose.
She slips into a deep slumber that she's been longing for a long time now.
"We're in Tuscany, Blair," he murmurs, shaking her gently. "Look out the window."
Her eyes flutter open and look around, finally settling on the smile on his face.
"My sleeping beauty," he greets.
"You wish, Mr Bass." Blair reaches for her bottle of water; her throat feels a bit dry, or sore. She drowns nearly half of the otherwise untouched bottle.
"Are you sure about this, Blair?" he asks her.
She purses her lips. "No. But I'm here already, aren't I?"
"I just want you to actually be here. You seemed distracted when we met at the airport." Lines appear on his brow, his eyes trying to read her.
"Are you sure?" she asks in return, expecting a negative to make her point.
"Yes."
"Are you lying?"
"No. And I'm starting to feel compromised here," he says lightly.
"I just want to know what you're expecting from this. . .rendezvous."
"Hoping and expecting are two different things, Mrs Bass."
"Give me both of them."
He releases a deep breath; she thinks he looks tired.
"Knowing you, I'd probably be nothing more as a fond memory after this," he starts slowly, fiddling with his fingers. The smile is gone from his face, but she can see the effort to sound light hearted and it breaks her. "But. . ."
"But what?"
"I'd rather not say."
She pouts. "Mr Bass! What is it?"
"Nothing!"
"You just made it plainly obvious there was," she retorts. "Come on, tell me."
He rolls his eyes playfully. "If we were married, this is how we'd argue?"
"You're changing the subject," she accuses. This is the most relaxed she's been in weeks.
"I am not," he rebuffs. "I was just. . .thinking, that's all."
"Well, you're wrong. Because we would have divorced a year after getting married."
It's what she's told herself for so long that it feels like the truth, as if she knows that's exactly what would've happened. He looks amused, so in return, she pulls on a sure face.
"Why do you keep saying we'd be divorced?" he muses, nursing a faux hurt tone.
"The last time was you," she reminds him. "Plus, I'm just referring to our past, that's all."
"You know what I think?" He leans in closer to her, and she closes her eyes for a moment to take in his scotch and mint breath; delicious. "I think we would have been a great couple."
Then he kisses her; softly, deeply, slowly. If she had her way in that state of mind, it would never have stopped at all.
I just want to know. . .Do you guys prefer a happy or bttersweet ending? I'm leaning towards the latter.