I'm all moved in to my apartment for my last semester of college (AKA – my last football season with student section seating – sad day) and I wanted to get an update out before my internship/classes start on Wednesday. I'm aiming to get an update out at least once a week. If I don't, blame my history teacher who apparently has no social life and is therefore sucking socializing out of his students' life as restitution. At least that's the way it looks from everything he put online for us already.

I've replied to all of your reviews I do believe. Please keep them coming – I love reading all of them and I truly do appreciate them. I'm also glad you all are enjoying the banter. At least in my story, Chuck's side of the banter has an ulterior motive... :)

THINGS I OWN: An epic love for the Tennessee Vols and all that that implies. THINGS I DON'T OWN: Gossip Girl.

On Monday, Blair sat perched on one of the courtyard tables, stealing kisses from Nate as they shared tales from their weekend. After the party Friday night – which Blair told Nate was a smashing success, neglecting to mention any of her conversations with Chuck – Blair had spent her Saturday sleeping late and shopping and her Sunday doing a lot of nothing while Nate bored her with sailing story after sailing story. Neither of them saw Chuck approach.

"Morning, lovers," he greeted. He sat himself down on one of the soapstone benches at their table.

"Hey, Chuck," Nate greeted. They bumped fists and Blair rolled her eyes at the testosterone behind the action. She didn't understand Nate's fast friendship with Chuck when he had other friends who were much more – upstanding – than Chuck Bass.

"Chuck," she greeted evenly. "I see you've emerged from your dungeon to torment the masses this morning." He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Now how did you know there were chains in my bedroom?" he asked, his voice full of innuendo.

"There must be. How else would you get a girl to stick around?" Blair retorted, his dirty-tinged talk not phasing her.

"I see you're as full of sunshine as ever," Chuck commented. "Aunt Flo in town?" Nate hid his grin from Blair's wrath, amused at how easily Chuck fired back at his too wound girlfriend without any regards to her standing as Queen. But she was quick to fire her own round.

"I was quite sunny until you came along to rain on my parade," she informed him.

"You know, you don't get nearly enough credit for your wit," Chuck told her with an amused smirk. He had come to enjoy bantering with Blair. He didn't know her well, but she was more – something he hadn't put his finger on yet or else bothered to identify – than any other girl he had met. He tried not to think about it too much.

"And you give yourself entirely too much credit for being Chuck Bass," she shot back. Nate decided it was time to intervene.

"Hey Chuck, we still on for tonight?" he asked.

"My suite, be there or be," Chuck glanced at Blair, "square." Blair was too busy scanning the crowd of identically clad students in the courtyard to pay him any mind.

"Jenny Humphrey!" she called. Nate and Chuck watched as an eager looking blond with 'freshman' written all over her turned at the sound of her name being called. Blair motioned her over and waited, back straight, nose tipped slightly upward, for the girl to approach her.

"Hi?" the girl called Jenny nervously said, her greeting sounding more like a question.

"Hi, Jenny," Blair said sweetly. She extended her hand. "I'm Blair Waldorf." Even Chuck, who had only known Blair for a week, knew she was up to something.

"I know," Jenny stuttered, reaching to shake Blair's hand. "Or I mean, I'm Jenny Humphrey."

"I know," Blair replied in a manner that could almost be called condescending. "I'm sure you've heard the Kiss On The Lips party is coming up Friday night."

"Oh, um, yeah, I heard something about that," the girl replied. She shifted uncomfortably.

"Are you going?" Blair continued, her tone back to being sugar-coated.

"Well, no, I don't think so. Freshman aren't usually invited to that sort of thing." Jenny looked visibly disappointed.

"I was invited as a freshman," Blair pointed out.

"But you're Blair Waldorf," Jenny replied. There was an undertone of amazement in her voice. "Of course you were invited as a freshman."

"And now I'm, for all intense purposes, the host," Blair told her. "The invitations were delivered to my penthouse yesterday. You should see them, Jenny. They're gorgeous."

"I'm sure they are. You have such a great eye for that sort of thing." Chuck rolled his eyes at the Jenny girl's eagerness and debated whether he had enough time to smoke the joint hidden in his school bag before the bell rang. Nate stood obediently by Blair's side, his eyes glazed over.

"I do," Blair agreed. "However, my calligraphy, while decent, isn't up to the same standards as my eye for invitation design. I heard it through the grapevine, however, that you are rather good with an ink well." Jenny's cheeks flushed at the roundabout compliment.

"I'm not bad," she said modestly. Blair reached into her bag and produced a piece of paper Jenny recognized as a sample of her work she had done in her art class on the first day of school. It was a short quote, done simply for her teacher to gage her ability. She had no idea how Blair had acquired it.

"This is your work?" she asked. Jenny nodded to the affirmative. Blair smiled at the girl. "Jenny Humphrey, how would you like to be invited to the Kiss On The Lips party?" She watched as the girl's eyes grew to the size of quarters.

"Really?" she asked in a higher octave than normal.

"Really," Blair confirmed. "In exchange for your calligraphy skills."

"You want me to address the invites?" Jenny asked, catching on.

"You're a fast learner, Little J," Blair replied. She reached in her bag and pulled out a folder. "Here is the guest list. Today is Monday. I need them by this time tomorrow so there will be time to have them delivered. I'll have someone drop them by your – home – this evening."

"Tomorrow, got it," Jenny said, taking the guest list with a smile and not realizing Blair had slipped in an insult about her humble Brooklyn upbringing.

"Address one of the extras to yourself," Blair told her. "You can find me on the Met steps tomorrow morning." Jenny nodded and left, her head held higher in light of her new mission, directly from the Queen herself.

"Blair, there are like, 200 invites," Nate said.

"And?" Blair asked, turning to Nate.

"You gave her an evening to do them all. She'll be up all night."

"It's all about time management," Blair said with a shrug. "If she wants to go to the party, she'll get them done. If she doesn't, I'll find someone else." Nate shook his head. He knew he was fighting a losing battle.

"Personally, I'm impressed with your bargaining skills," Chuck said. "Coming from the son of Bart Bass, you should consider that a compliment." Blair studied Chuck for a moment. She could read people. It was one of her greatest gifts, according to Dorota and it had served her well in the past. But there was something about Chuck that she couldn't identify. Something haunted him, compelled him to act the way he did. She was more intrigued by him than she cared to admit.

"Oddly, I do," she told him. She gathered her things and hopped off the table. "Nate, walk me to class?" she asked. Nate looked uncomfortable.

"Um, I actually need to get going myself," he confessed. "I have to pick up this week's practice schedule from coach before home room." Blair frowned.

"Okay," she said. "Meet me for lunch?"

"I've got to watch films during lunch, remember?" Nate asked. While he physically maintained his relaxed position, in his mind he was holding up an arm to protect himself from Blair's impending blow.

"And you've got practice after school followed by whatever thing you've got planned with Bass," Blair finished. "Fine. Tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow for sure," Nate confirmed, looking relieved to have gotten off so easily. He leaned in to kiss Blair quickly before bidding them both farewell and leaving. Blair made to head the opposite direction, but Chuck fell in beside her.

"No fair dame should walk to class by themselves," he told her.

"They also shouldn't be subjected to leering and crude comments while making their way to homeroom," Blair replied.

"But the leering and crude comments work for me."

"Which explains the quality of women you find yourself associated with."

"For me, it's not so much about quality as quantity."

"Disgusting."

"You use that term frequently when referring to me."

"You sleep around, drink too much, and I have my suspicions you aren't above experimenting with pharmaceuticals. All traits that make you disgusting."

"I'm not above experimenting, period," Chuck told her with a smirk. "If you catch my drift." Blair scoffed out of disgust. Chuck laughed.

"It's entirely too easy to get under your skin, Waldorf," he said as they walked up the stairs to school.

"And it's entirely too easy to imagine what's growing on yours," she shot back. He laughed again.

"So this Kiss On The Lips party... Am I invited?" he asked.

"Would it stop you if you weren't?" Blair countered.

"No," Chuck admitted.

"Your name is on the guest list," Blair confirmed. "Though I suppose you won't need the plus one."

"Let's just say I won't leave empty handed." Blair rolled her eyes. They reached Blair's locker and instead of continuing on his way, Chuck leaned against the locker beside hers. Blair was aware of his eyes on her as she added one set of books and removed another.

"Here," Chuck said, reaching for the books. "Allow me." Blair looked surprised when he took the heavy history book and her notebook from her.

"Chuck Bass has manners," she commented. "Who knew?" Chuck looked flustered, a very un-Chuck expression.

"A moment of weakness," he replied, putting his mask firmly back in place. He walked with her to her homeroom, a few doors down from her locker.

"Thanks, Chuck," Blair said sincerely as she accepted the books from him. Her fingertips brushed against his and something, a tingle of some sort, ran up her arm. Chuck pulled back quickly, making her wonder if he had felt it too.

"Don't get used to it," he said. "Consider it a favor to my friend Nathaniel."

"Thanks," Blair said again, giving him a small smile. She slipped inside her classroom and Chuck made his way to St. Jude's side of the building, his mind racing.

Something about Blair Waldorf called to him. He had never done something as mundane as carry books for a girl and whatever it was that passed between them when their fingertips brushed together was something he couldn't identify. It had to be the attraction he had to her, he told himself. Once he convinced her to have sex with him – and he was convinced she would - he would go back to normal, no more carrying books or tingling arms. He was already looking forward to that day.

"Chuck!"

Chuck turned at the sound of Blair's voice. He was just about to slid into his limo at the end of the school day when he heard her. He waited for her to reach him.

"Waldorf," he greeted, leaning against the limo.

"One Kiss On The Lips invitation," she said, handing him an envelope with 'Charles Bass' elegantly scrolled across it. "Bring it with you or you don't get in."

"I'm..."

"Chuck Bass, I know," Blair cut him off. She turned to leave.

"Want a lift home?" he asked. She stopped and turned to face him.

"Are you offering?" He shrugged.

"I have a limo with a lot of extra space in the back," he told her. "And as sure as I am that you could strut your way to your penthouse in those heels, I thought I'd be a gentleman and offer you my carriage. Besides, it looks like it might rain." Blair looked up and saw that the sky had indeed grown a menacing shade of gray. Her hair would be a disaster and her shoes ruined if the skies opened up before she made it home.

"Only because I didn't bring an umbrella," she said, stepping past him and slipping into the limo. He smirked as he slid in beside her and gave his driver instructions.

"So how was your day, Waldorf?" he asked.

"Do you actually care?" Blair asked.

"Not really. Just trying to make small talk." Blair rolled her eyes. She did that a lot with Chuck, she noticed.

"Since you care so much, it was fine."

"Fine as in good or fine as in I'd rather not talk about it?" Chuck pressed. He was actually curious. It made him uneasy.

"Fine as in good," Blair answered. "It was just a day. I delivered invitations, went to class, and had yogurt on the Met steps." She turned her gaze out the window. Chuck looked at her expectantly.

"Aren't you going to ask me how my day was?" he asked. Blair turned back to him.

"I saw the Gossip Girl blast after lunch. I know how your day was." Chuck smirked.

"It was a good day," he confirmed. "And I may just have a good night too. The attendant that works The Palace desk second shift? She's got tonight's bed warmer written all over her."

"Does your penis have an off switch?" Blair inquired. "A pause button maybe?"

"Nope," Chuck said, leaning back against the seats and clasping his hands behind his head. "Just a little freckle." He watched the color drain from Blair's face, her mouth forming an 'O' out of shock. He smirked. "Want to see?"

Blair made a face and turned away from him. He let her stew, waiting for her to say something. It was inevitable that she would ask him another question or else fire off another insult.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend, Bass?" she finally asked. Chuck looked at her. She was looking at him now, waiting for his answer. That was not the question he had expected her to ask.

"What do you think?"

"I think there isn't a chance in hell that you've committed yourself to someone longer the time it took to do the deed," she said. "I also think that's sad."

"Sad? Hardly. I don't need some girl buckling a diamond-studded collar around my neck and pulling me around by a designer leash. Case in point: Nate. I'll go home, throw a few lines at the desk chick, have a drink with her, and by midnight, she'll be in my bed. Nate will go home from lacrosse practice, shower, pick you up for a mundane dinner date and have you back by nine so you can read your history book before bed."

"What's so wrong with that?" Blair wanted to know. She was sincere in her question, he realized. He remembered then what Nate said about Blair often living in her own movie. He hadn't realized how literal Nate had been.

"I don't believe in Happily Ever After," he told her bluntly. "And I don't think you do either." She frowned.

"Of course I do," she argued.

"No," Chuck insisted, "you don't. You've convinced yourself you do, but if you really did, you'd break it off with Nate because Waldorf, anyone who isn't a part of the Upper East Side can see that neither of you are happy."

"Not that it's any of your business, but we are so happy," Blair stated firmly. "I don't know what you're up to, Chuck Bass, but you can give it up now." Chuck studied her.

"So could you," he said with a pointed look. Blair sucked in a breath.

"Nate told you about our sex life," she realized.

"Or lack thereof," Chuck said with a shrug. "I don't give a damn one way or another, but Waldorf, you are missing out on the pleasures of the flesh. I could show you..." The limo rolled to a stop in front of Blair's building.

"You are a despicable excuse for a human being, Chuck Bass," Blair informed him, her head held high. "And I feel sorry for you." She reached for the door handle to exit the limo. Instead of getting out though, she froze. Her gazed was fixed on something she had spied through the window.

"The dramatic exit is much more effective if you actually exit," Chuck told her, taking in how her curls cascaded down her back. In the back of his mind, he pushed back thoughts involving his hands buried in her locks. She didn't respond. He frowned. "Blair?" When she didn't reply he slid across the seat to see what had her attention so riveted. A blond with legs for days was standing in front of her building, looking anxious and checking her watch. Chuck would bet his soul if he had one that her name was 'Serena.'

"Chuck, I can't be here," Blair said, turning to him. "Take me anywhere. Anywhere but here." Chuck studied her for a moment. There was a panic in her eyes, a pleading for him to honor her request. He almost considered making her get out of the limo, for both his own amusement and because he was just the slightest bit sore from her insults, but something wouldn't let him. So instead, he slid back across the limo.

"Change of plans, Arthur," he told his driver. "Take us to The Palace."

SPOTTED: S hopping a cab from Grand Central Station. I hear tales that she's heading for the Waldorf Penthouse. Wonder how happy Queen B will be to see her? Or will she be too busy with C to notice? And what about N? It's no secret he's kept a flame burning for his GF's BFF all these years. You know you love me, XOXO Gossip Girl.

Serena's back... Kiss On The Lips party is coming up... Blair is going back to Chuck's place... This is getting good.