Author's note: A lot of people have been pestering me, and admittedly it's been bothering me that I couldn't seem to get out of my writer's block. I think I've stepped out of it (for now). Enjoy this chap! It took me a while to figure out how to go where I want this to be going, but I think I've figured it out *crosses fingers*
THESE LITTLE HORRORS, THESE LITTLE HOURS, part four
And you can hear the siren's song, you can hear the siren's song
But it's not where you belong (sail on)
- Greycoats, Watchman, What is Left of the Night?
Priceless clothes rustled as Chuck knelt next to her on the hard, cold tiles, a gentle hand holding her hair back at the nape of her neck and the other rubbing soothing circles across her back. Silent, as always. He'd never talked all those countless times before, years before, and it was likely he wouldn't start talking this time either. She felt the coiled tension in him, however, a dark shadow that hung over them both, but especially over her.
"I'm fine," she whispered when she could control her erratic breathing again.
The calm, drawn-out strokes continued for a moment before he finally spoke. "Good. We'll get him, Blair." Promise underlay his words.
She nodded, then breathed in deeply and met his eyes. Unspoken relief and gratefulness passed like a current between them before he tugged her to her feet and back to Eric who awaited them at the jamb. "You okay?" he asked in evident concern.
All of it drew Blair right out of that dark realm of possibility. She nodded wordlessly, squeezing the hand that still held her tightly. Yes, they'd get the bastard, but only if she could hold it together. She had to face demons.
"Okay," she began with renewed strength as she stared right at the pictures on the screen without even a flinch of disgust. "What else have you got on this guy?"
Eric shared a quick surprised glance with Chuck, but shrugged and decided to let it go. "He does a lot of charity work with kids from poor families."
Chuck nodded knowingly, intensely focused. "Perfect pick-up playground," he advanced. "Gets him right up close and personal."
"And he can crush them easily if they decide to talk," Blair added, then frowned and shook her head, as though to rid herself of the unpleasant images those thoughts conjured.
"You have to appreciate the genius in what he's doing," Chuck murmured thoughtfully, feeling Blair's sharp gaze turn on him instantly. He shrugged. "He thought of everything, right down to the last detail."
Eric nodded with a wistful sigh. "Yeah, this guy was firewalled to the bone. He's protecting his ass like you wouldn't believe."
There was a lull after that statement, until Chuck suddenly nodded, as though coming out of a trance, and clapped Eric on the back. "Well, thanks Eric, that was certainly very enlightening." Catching Blair's eye, he jerked his chin minutely toward the door in a querying sort of way. You ready?
The younger boy swivelled in his commander's chair and beamed at the pair. "Anytime. Seriously, call if you need me to dig deeper."
Chuck smirked fondly at his little brother. "Who needs private eyes when you've got a little brother?" he mused aloud as he led Blair out with a light hand at the small of her back. "Sure, go ahead and check him out more deeply."
#
"Next step?" Blair wondered aloud once they were safely ensconced in his limousine again. Small flecks of snowflakes clung loosely to their wool coats from their small jaunt just out the building and straight away back into the vehicle.
Chuck lowered the partition a moment. "Home," he instructed his chauffeur before pressing the button to separate them once again. Then he turned to Blair, eyes assessing her every facial feature. "I have a meeting at Victrola in an hour," he reminded her. "You want to meet with the girls, let them know what we found?"
Blair checked the time on his wristwatch and frowned. "Lunch break just ended," she remarked, then considered other possibilities. Security had never been very tight at both Constance and St. Jude's. As long as she wore the dark blue and white colours of Constance, no one would be the wiser.
Chuck smirked, correctly reading her thoughts on her face, then pulled out his cellphone and speed-dialed a number before she could even voice concerns. "John, go to the Waldorf-Roses' and pick up Miss Waldorf's plaid skirts and…" He looked askance to Blair for further instructions.
"The cream muslin blouse with a large bow at the neck. My mother's design," she shot off as Chuck related her request.
To which he added his own input with an appraising nod and an artistic eye turned on her. "The lilac braided headband and the plum leather handbag. Ah, and her black damask tights… what's damask?" He snapped his phone shut in offended disgust.
Blair laughed a riot, painstakingly smothering her grin to ask, "Headband?"
Chuck, still staring ahead in disapproving silence, didn't reply immediately. His crinkling eyes spoke volumes, however. "Treat for you, Waldorf," he finally said, his voice a tad deeper than previously.
She sat back, chuckling to herself – liar. "Question."
"Ask away," Chuck replied agreeably, turning his head to catch her eye with a soft smile.
"Can I touch you now?" she asked, saucy grin and all. At his instantly sober but flared expression, she scooted closer and nudged him playfully. "I'm kidding, Chuck. I just wanted to–"
"Cuddle," Chuck deadpanned, his voice somewhere between grim and uneasy. Nevertheless, his hand slid around her shoulders, holding her against him.
#
"How's this?" Blair stepped out of the bathroom and twirled before Chuck who was gathering and stuffing papers into his leather briefcase.
Chuck looked up and over, and his eyes instantly softened around the edges, a smile dancing along his lips. "Come here," he said, briefcase suddenly forgotten as he stood and extended a palm out to her.
Grinning, Blair sauntered over to him, knee-length plaid skirt swishing and flirting with every movement, until she could slide her arms around his neck. "What do you think," she murmured but didn't really ask. The answer was more than evident in the reverent, gentle hold he had around her waist as his thumbs stroked small circles over the prim, immaculate cream blouse tucked into the waistband of her skirt. He'd never held her any other way, she realised, and the thought warmed her.
Chuck's mouth found her temple. "You're ten times hotter than any Constance girl."
"I am a Constance girl," she pointed out blandly.
"Correction," Chuck interjected. "Was." One of his hands snaked around and lower, tugging her closer by the ass. "You're a woman," he said again, ducking his head into her neck, just under the earlobe, and then moving down. The sneak knew that every single inch of her neck was her weak spot, damn him, and he was using the knowledge to his advantage. Once upon a time she'd used it on him, knowing that the anticipation of her reaction would undo him. Clever game, back then. Not so fun, now, since they'd agreed…
"A woman on a mission," Blair said, struggling to keep her PG-13 wits about her.
"Mmhm." But he obviously wasn't listening anymore.
Uh oh. "Chuck." Rolling her shoulder, Blair hoped to dislodge him so he would get the message: PG-13, Chuck, PG-13. Too bad the movement only gave him better access to the other side of her neck. He switched easily. "I need to go…" Blair began. "School…" And then she moaned. Very last thing she ever should have done. The man thrived on moans.
"There's always tomorrow," he murmured thickly against her cool, wet skin before drawing her closer against him.
Blair would have flailed if she could have. Despite it not being a very ladylike move. "No." She put her foot down – literally – and he yelped, disconnecting instantly to nurse his injured foot and hop on his other one. She could finally breathe without… thoughts. "I need to go," she blew out, straightening her blouse and brushing her long headband-adorned hair back into some order. And then she backed away – man was still dangerous. "You need to head to Victrola. Knock them over. Ta ta. And I'll see you when you come pick me up…?" It wasn't even a question.
Chuck nodded wordlessly, fire burning hotly in his eyes still. Oh, God, they wouldn't hold long.
#
Blair strolled right in, much like she always had as a Constance girl… like she owned the place. And, like she always had, the other students parted at her arrival like the Red Sea for Moses. And… for some reason she was thinking in biblical terms.
"Blair?" a familiar voice jerked her out of her thoughts, and as Blair spun around she had to laugh, truly. There, right in the bank of lockers that hers had been during her last year, was Emma's current one. Talk about a coincidence.
"Hi," Blair greeted back, hitching her bookbag higher. The thing was filled to the brim with a bestseller novel recommended by Oprah that past summer – she was falling behind! – and several empty Bass Industries presentation binders that Chuck had lent her, along with the fast-track Marketing, Business and Management notes he'd taken a year ago from online classes. While he'd gone straight into the job unprepared after high school, he'd doggedly worked twice as hard trying to maintain both his legacy and the grades he needed to have the first clue on how to keep the ship afloat. It was an unprecedented feat for Chuck Bass. The man was, obviously, pure brilliance and a half.
"Do you know where Muffy is?" Blair presently asked Emma, who still stared at her as though she'd just stepped in dressed as a Martian with a Hawaiian straw skirt and a large Mexican sombrero. With clown makeup.
Shaking herself, Emma soon launched into a concerned verbal diarrhea. "What's going on? Is Sasha okay? I thought he was in class still. Did you find out if–"
Overwhelmed, Blair put up an arresting hand. One could clearly see why the two girls were best friends. "Calm down," Blair said almost impatiently, "you're making me dizzy! Look, I don't want to explain this twice so please, go find Muffy before someone remembers I don't go here anymore and Gossip Girl has a field day." Not that she particularly cared, but Muffy and Emma would. People would wonder what they were doing with an alumnus outside of Society outings. "I'll be in the girls' bathroom next to the front staircase."
Emma once again stared incredulously at Blair, this time as if she'd grown a crown and wings. "Do you know who Gossip Girl is? Oh my God, if you do, can you–"
Blair briefly considered many options, most of them not very poised. Finally she merely opted for a crack in her patient façade. "I don't! Please, go."
#
"Did you get him?" was the very first thing that Muffy said as her voice preceded her in the cool bathroom.
Blair finished applying a fresh coat of mascara wordlessly, glancing up into the mirror a moment at the redhead who projected anxiety in droves. "It's too early to say," she replied, twisting the black wand back into the bottle and then stashing it back into her bag. Turning, she began speaking again as she leaned back against the aligned sinks. "What we've got is very little, but he's been surfing porn sites. Specifically," she coughed, lowering her voice, "child pornography forums. We've got someone looking more deeply into it – don't worry, Chuck and I trust him implicitly. So, stuff like what he posted and what he visited exactly should be forthcoming, as well as personal computer files."
"You're hacking?" Emma demanded, jaw hanging.
Blair caught herself before she made a face – look professional, not like a squabbling team. Just because she disagreed with Chuck's methods didn't mean they didn't work. "We're just checking, not doctoring his computer," she replied dryly, knowing exactly where Emma was coming from.
"Was Sasha… on that forum?" Muffy asked quietly after a moment.
Blair shook her head. "Not that I know of. There was too much to look at." Wasn't that the understatement of the century.
The girls pondered those grim implications in silence, until a shrill ring broke into the moment. Muffy dazedly fished in her pocket as Emma and Blair looked on. "It's my mother." She flipped it open. "Hi, mom. No, I don't… Really?" Her wide eyes snapped to Blair. "Oh, that's… great, it's great for him… Yeah, can't wait. See you."
Muffy's continued unblinking stare made Blair more nervous than she cared to admit. "What's wrong?" she asked finally.
The younger girl answered in a strange drone. "You're coming to dinner tonight. Chuck just called; he's making a business proposal to my step-dad tonight." She frowned. "Was that pre-arranged and I didn't know about it?"
The sneaky bastard always had to one-up Blair, didn't he.