A/N How excited are you guys that the show is FINALLY back on?!?! and am I the only one who spent most of 2x18 wanting to slap Chuck (and HATING Elle!), only to forgive him in the second he said "I'll wait"...?! Aaaw!
To the lovelies who reviewed on the last chapter, I adore you all!!! THank you!!! You make writing this amazingly fun and I am so grateful that you take the time to let me know what you think!
And thank you Abby!!! I'm so freaking happy you adore Al as much as I do! :D
This chapter includes the return of "Chuck the jogger" hahaa. And to you brits reading this, my "cursing/speaking-in-brittish-english" vocabulary comes mostly from a spontaneous lesson by a couple of rugby players from birmingham, at a pub in Cologne...so my apologies if its all effed up ;)
...flashback in italics...
Disclaimer: I own nothing - except for Allison "Al" Bancroft and my imagination! ;)
It is Monday morning and he is back in his office. Even though he spent his Saturday with Nate - getting his friend royally drunk in celebration of his up-coming nuptials - and distracted himself with whatever he could possibly think of during the rest of the weekend, the image of her devastated face seems to be permanently etched to his memory.
He was in the front row to observe as she pulled herself together, somehow managing to smile and congratulate the beaming and ecstatic Serena, before hastily saying her goodbyes and leaving the party.
And just as earlier, he had been the only one who seemed to notice the heartbreak in her eyes.
Sometimes it is just fucking impossible to hate her.
It's a good thing he is as stubborn as he is.
"Mr. Bass? Miss Bancroft is here to see you." His secretary's voice informs him over the intercom, interrupting his thoughts.
*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*
He arrived in the classroom just before the professor closed the doors, walking in and taking a seat by the large, round table. Then he leaned back in his chair and prepared himself for an hour and a half of pure boredom.
The professor quickly began to introduce himself, and he might have zoned out a little after that. The next thing he knew, the class was handed out assignments to prepare for the first meeting in their learning teams.
"You will work on this in pairs of two." The professor explained "…and you will be divided according to your last name."
In that moment he began to wish he hadn't gone to class in the first place. He rarely did to be honest; Blair was on his case about it quite a lot. She loved college in every way - once a grade A-student always a grade A-student - he assumed. He on the other hand, not so much.
"Bancroft, Bass…" The professor read from his list, "…Congratulations. Denton, George – you are next…"
Upon hearing his name he quickly scanned the people seated at the table, and met the gaze of a pair of blue – almost violet – eyes belonging to a girl with a mane of red hair that somehow reminded him of Serena.
As soon as the class was over he got to his feet. The majority of the students began pairing up to discuss their assignments as he walked out of the classroom. He could hear footsteps behind him but blatantly ignored the voice calling out for him.
"Come on mate, are you deaf?"
The British accent surprised him and he turned around to find out who it belonged to - only to find the redhead from earlier looking at him from under furrowed brows.
"I prefer to look at it as selective hearing." He smirked, walking away from her.
"So I will see you Saturday then?" She ignored his brush-off and followed him out of the building, "We should probably get started right away - my roommate told me the professor doesn't really give away grades."
"Saturday is not a good day for me…"
"Sunday then." She persisted, keeping up her pace next to him, and rearranging her hold of her book bag.
"Yeah sure." He snorted as he walked down the front steps of the building and headed for his apartment.
Stopping in his steps when she kept following him, he turned to look at her, giving her a well-practiced example of his most charming, womanizer smirk.
"Look, this whole working-in-pairs-grade-a-student thing isn't really my forte." He drawled, tilting his head to the side and giving her a smarmy look, "But I'm sure we could work something out."
She looked at him in disbelief for a few seconds, then her whole face moulded into an expression of complete amusement.
"Are you kidding me mate?" The redhead laughed, "Does pulling stunts like that one actually work for you? That whole 'Oh you want me so bad, don't you baby'-smirk?"
She broke out laughing again, then tried to regain her composure but failed miserably.
"It does, doesn't it? Consider me immune, darling, and we will get along just fine," she finished.
She tilted her head to the side and gave him a patient look.
And for the first time in a long time – or ever - he couldn't immediately think of a witty, superior remark, but instead just walked away.
He really regretted attending that class.
*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*
He was out jogging around campus later that day, lost in his own world, when all of a sudden there was someone running alongside him.
As he looked over to give the person a patented fuck-the-hell-off-glare, he was met by the same violet eyes. The same red mane of hair pulled back into a ponytail and bouncing merrily as she jogged next to him.
"Stalking is illegal on this side of the pond."
"Really? I had no idea" She replied airily with a wink of her eye, "Should I contact the authorities then, and tell them about the weird guy matching his socks with his t-shirt that ran up to me as I was out for my daily run?"
He merely huffed in response and increased his speed, getting more than a little annoyed when all she did was flick her ponytail over her shoulder and easily followed him.
"I have a proposition for you, Mr. 'I am Chuck Bass and too great for words'," She said, and it annoyed him beyond measures that she wasn't even slightly out of breath.
"Let's race for it…first one back to the library. If I win, it is ten o'clock on Saturday…"
"…If I win, you find your company on Saturday elsewhere, and far away from me." He agreed, pleased with his up-coming victory.
"It is a deal." She smiled, and the two of them took off.
*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*
"You can't always get your way, Big Fish" She pointed out minutes later, and failed miserably in hiding her smug grin. "I am Allison by the way."
He simply glared at her from where he was standing, leaning against the brick building and panting heavily.
"See you Saturday then," She sighed contently, walking away after a final Cheshire grin in his direction, leaving him breathless and fuming.
*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*
He sauntered into the library at ten fifteen on Saturday morning and made his way to the study area, feeling more than a little pleased with himself despite his kindergarten tactics.
He was showing up - that was more than he had originally planned - and that obnoxious, machine of a woman had better settle for that, he thought to himself as he surveyed the area looking for her.
She wasn't there.
Ten minutes later he was seething, thinking that he is Chuck-fucking-Bass; and there is no way he is spending a Saturday morning waiting in a library. Chuck Bass doesn't wait around for anyone, end of story.
He was seconds from leaving when she walked through the door, making her way over to where he was standing, dressed in a pair of old Levis and a Harvard sweatshirt.
"Sorry I'm late, Fish" She smiled offering him a take out cup, and he could tell that she wasn't the least bit sorry, "Latte?"
"Fish?" He growled, shooting her an annoyed glare, "Do you have a liking for sea creatures that I should be aware of?"
"No, I just enjoy ruffling your feathers a bit."
"Moving on to poultry now, huh? Is indecisiveness a trait your people pride themselves on?" He snarled, but couldn't keep a smirk from forming on his lips as she broke out laughing.
*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*
Before he has the chance to respond to his secretary's announcement, the glass door to his office swings open and in walks the bubbly, witty redhead that somewhere along the way turned into a friend.
Even though the thought of "Chuck Bass" being just friends with a girl doesn't sound quite right – it amazed him more than anyone - that is what they have become. It could be that she actually had turned out to be completely and utterly immune to his charms, he really doesn't care. She is just "Al" to him, right up there with Nate and Serena.
"Patience is a virtue, you know" He smirks nonchalantly, but gets to his feet and walks up to meet her. "Do you not remember what you walked in on a while back?"
"Oh God, how could I possibly forget?" Al groans in mock horror, "That experience alone will be the subject of all my therapy hours for the rest of the year."
Her playful response instantly lightens his mood.
"Good to see you, Al." He says – kissing her on the cheek - because it is.
"You too, Fish." She winks, then gives a pleased grin at the face he makes in reaction to the nickname. "Ready for lunch?"
"I'm in the mood for Italian. That place, you know which one I am talking about…"
"Honestly mate? The only reason you want to go there is because of that skanky waitress that always offers to help you with your napkin..."
"She is very service minded, I'll give you that." He smirks, and she rolls her eyes despondently, linking her arm with his as they exit the office.
"Now, what is the latest news?" She asks him after he has told the secretary that he is leaving.
"Blair is back in town."
The words escape his mouth before he knows it, and Al shoots him a look with eyes wide in surprise.
"Blair as in Blair? Your Blair?
"She is not 'my Blair'" He points out firmly. "Yes. That Blair."
"Wow" Al lets out, pushing the button of the elevator. "And you are okay with that?"
"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" He replies, and as he catches her doubtfully cocked eyebrow he continues. "I am fine; I don't care about her. She is ancient history."
"I was there remember?" She reminds him, as the elevator arrives, "Picking up the pieces…or empty bottles in your case."
"Al" The tone of his voice is a warning that tells her to drop it, and she takes the hint.
"Alright. You are fine, you don't care, and she is ancient history." Al repeats mechanically in a joking tone, patting his arm and laughing as he pulls away from her with a frown on his face. "…whatever helps you sleep at night. But maybe the next time someone asks you if you are okay with it – two 'why-wouldn't-I-be's are enough…"
He scowls, but she just smiles at his reaction and squeezes his arm reassuringly. And he knows that she does so to let him know she is only messing with him - that she is on his side. Then the mischievous spark returns to her violet eyes.
"Oh, it is so good to be back." She sighs contently, "You must have missed me terribly, Fish."
He looks back at her with the same spark in his eyes and a smirk forming on his lips.
"You know if I make some calls, I could probably have you on the Bass jet back to London within the hour..."
*¨*¨*¨*¨*¨*
Review?! :)