Disclaimer: I own nothing except a great love for CB and the many inhabitants of the UES

A/N: Well, it happened. He said. We're all starting to recover (after watching at least a hundred times) and now we're looking forward to next season already and all that's to come. In the meantime, I've got a new chapter for you guys. That's for all of your wonderful words and reviews from the last. Glad you enjoyed it. So here's the next. As always. Much love to Wifey and my girls…and a special dedication to my Belle and Cher who are taking the happy ending we got and leaving us on a high note. I love you both like crazy and I'll miss you dearly *kiss*.

Chapter 27ஐ

All hell was breaking loose back home and yet he was here. Halfway around the world. It'd been hours since Blair called him, wanting to know the truth of her mother's misdeeds. He'd gone back and forth, picking up the phone more than once to call her back and tell her everything. Or to tell the pilot to turn the fucking plane around

Only he didn't call her. Telling himself that it was late and she and the rest were likely sleeping. That the truth could hold a few hours more, Chuck assured himself, and he'd done the right thing telling her to wait. She loved her mother and finding out that the woman had given away one of her children, wasn't a conversation to be done over the phone.

So it shouldn't have been unexpected that Chuck's frustration and temper had reached a boiling point as he stepped onto the tarmac, shielding his eyes from the glaring, morning sun.

Mike's contact was waiting as instructed. A hired car at the man's back.

"Mr. Bass. It's really great to meet you…" the man smiled.

Chuck stretched, trying to work out the kinks and slipped a pair of Ray-Bans on. He glanced at the man's outstretched hand and then back up at the man's face. "Sorry, but no time for niceties. Take me to Sparks, so I can get the hell out of here."

Phillips blinked, his hand falling to his side before he stammered out, "Uh, of course. I understand perfectly. Mike said that this was a matter of the utmost importance…"

"And yet, you're still talking."

"Sorry, uh…guess I'm just nervous. Not everyday the boss…" Phillips snapped his mouth shut. "And I'm doing it again. I'm told that I tend to babble when I…please follow me, sir."

Chuck wordlessly motioned for him to lead-on. This was the person who Mike entrusted with making sure that that nutcase, Georgina Sparks was locked away in the loony bin where she belonged.

Despite the fact that he wanted to be back in New York with Blair and the explosion that was his best friend's life, Chuck was reassured that he'd made the right decision. He just really wished the timing would've been better.

"Oh, by the way. Happy New Year's Eve." Phillips tried again. And then he started chattering on about local festivities and parties scheduled for later that night. Reminders that he needed to get this trip over with a.s..p and get his ass back to New York.

Chuck glared. The man was starting to remind him of a certain Brooklynite with his chatty Cathy ways. God knew that one Dan Humphrey in the world was more than enough. "Why don't you ride up front?"

And they were off. Chuck started thinking about all that he was missing back home again. Blair. Nate losing his fucking mind. All the ways he planned on destroying that cockroach Baizen, once and for all. Only he could barely hear himself think with the man going non-stop in the passenger seat. Phillips, that rambling bastard, almost put Humphrey to shame. Almost.

When Chuck failed to respond to any of the man's inane conversation, he began addressing the driver who answered him on grunts and jerky nods. The driver at least seemed attuned to chuck's growing displeasure. He glanced repeatedly in the rearview mirror.

Wondering why in the he'll he'd been given a car sans partition, chuck finally hissed, "Phillips, isn't?

"Yes, sir." the man perked up at finally having the boss' attention. He turned in his sit, his expression reminiscent of an excited puppy.

"How far out from civilization do you suppose this airstrip is?" Chuck

"Oh, I don't know. Twenty-five…thirty minutes from the nearby residentials anyway. It's almost forty minutes though for the city."

Damned if he planned to sit through another thirty minutes of this, "And tell me…are you up to walking the rest of the way."

The talkative bastard stole an embarrassed glance in the driver's direction, but the other man studiously avoided meeting his gaze. "No, sir." Phillips coughed out.

"Good." Chuck settled back against the seat. "Now, I don't need you trying to entertain me stories about local color...if you can't ramp down in this incessant urge to speak then do it about something of consequence."

"Sorr..."

Chuck held up a forestalling hang. "And please stop apologizing. Tell me more about this nurse who confirmed that Miss Sparks is indeed a patient in this place."

Phillips started to smile but then he seemed to catch himself. "Um, that would be Veronique." He cleared his throat. "Gorgeous...lithe, young blonde...doesn't know a bit of English. I can be your go between...act as translator if you like."

Chuck shook his head, "That won't be necessary." his father had seen to it that his son and heir could fluently converse with business associates throughout the world. "Tell me what she said."

"She confirmed that Miss Sparks is in residence."

"Details, my friend. I want to know exactly what she said and how. I want to know how you approached her." Chuck demanded softly.

Chuck spent the rest of the seemingly neverending drive, having Phillips go over his first exchange with Veronique and then the second after Olivia George's existence sent Chuck's spidey senses reeling.

Lingering over coffee in the early morning hours, Phillips had hunkered down in the small café right across from the sanitarium. He'd had a direct view of those who entered and left the facility and so he'd watched for days. Listened closely to staff members who stopped picking up breakfast or bitching over their lunches and taking shots at the boss. Relating stories of their more eccentric patients. He'd finally approached Veronique on the forth day after she'd come in, chattering about her charges.

It'd been almost too easy, when he'd finally approached Veronique, chatting up up. He'd pretended to take her in confidence, letting her know that he'd been commission by an interested party to track-down her estranged granddaughter.

Chuck had already crafted his own cover story around what Phillips had initially told the nurse. He didn't just want to talk to this Veronique. Or any of the staff. He'd only be reassured that Whoregina was where she belonged, if he was granted a face-to-face with the bitch. What better way to do that then as her half-brother, Charles. Come to deliver the sad news about their now "late grandmother"

He motioned for silence from his informer and started making phone calls. "Time for a visit with Sis." Chuck murmured, if Sparks had truly and finally been fitted for her own strait-jacket. Otherwise, he was that much closer to tracking down the truth about Olivia George.

~ஐ~

She grabbed her phone, not wanting the soft trill to wake the children or disturb the woman who'd been pretending sleep for the better part of an hour. She glanced at the caller ID and for a split second debated answering. "Hello?" Serena whispered hoarsely.

"Thank god."

"It's late, Dan. What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I couldn't think of anyone else to call. Well, actually I tried Chuck a while ago and he hadn't heard anything."

"Wait. Are you talking about Nate? So did he actually get arrested?" She and Blair had been so wrapped up in all the drama and emotional battery of fives past that they hadn't given Nate a second thought.

"No. Chuck talked the cops out of taking him in. I was supposed to take him upstairs so he could sleep it off." Dan explained, "unfortunately, Nate had other ideas and I've checked everywhere I can think of...Chuck's, the station...I even called to see if he'd stopped at the brownstone...which wasn't the brightest idea since it's probably the last place he'd go now..."

"The very last..." Serena glared into the dark. Angry with Carter and Vanessa. Pissed at herself for pushing the issue. Yes, Nate needed to know the truth but he was one of her best friends in the world. She was hurting for him.

"He wasn't there of course so all I managed was worrying Vanessa." Dan groaned. "I had to talk her out of coming with me to look for him."

He sounded so exhausted and defeated that she almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Her mind was stuck on repeat, echoing his last words. "Vanessa's worried?! I can't believe you just said that,"

"I'm only stating facts, Serena." Dan said, "Try not to kill the messenger,"

"I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you. It's her." Serena threw her arm over her eyes. "Did you check his mother's?"

Absolute silence met her query, but soon enough he was blustering out, "Ha... yea. Of course I did..n't"

"Or my place. Nate has a key." She revealed, "Or at Eric's…Victrola. Or any number of Chuck's late night spots where they know Nate and wouldn't kick him out…even after final call."

"Gee, thanks Serena. Very helpful of you."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize. It was my fault." Dan said.

"Actually…"

"I thought we weren't going to talk about Vanessa anymore."

Serena cleared her throat, "We weren't and you're the one who said her name. I was going to say something else."

"Oh."

"I was actually going to suggest that I meet up with you." Serena listened to the silence on the other end of the phone and the sudden rustling across the room as Blair shifted, rolling to face her best friend.

"Wait…no. Aren't you doing that sleepover thing with Blair?"

"The kids are asleep and B probably won't even notice that I'm gone…" Serena stole a glance in her best friend's direction. Deep down she knew that her best friend wasn't actually upset with her and that B hadn't been intentionally "not talking to her." She'd given the other woman a lot to digest. Time to give her some real space to go along with that.

Besides, Serena really wanted to make sure that Nate was okay. Being with Dan was just the cherry on top of it all. "Look, you check his mom's place. I'll check mine and we can meet up at Victrola. All right?"

"Sounds good to me. Meet you in twenty?"

That was ambitious. Even in the middle of the night, the city was still alive with activity. "Works for me. See you soon."

Blair didn't say anything until she hung up. "I'm not mad at you."

"Oh, okay so you just have been not speaking to me for the past few hours for the pure joy of it." Serena sighed.

There was a soft click before dim light flooded the room, making them blink rapidly until their eyes adjusted to see the world as more than masses of vague shadows and dancing lights, peppering through the blinds. "S, I'm not mad at you...this entire thing feels so unreal. I wasn't giving you the cold shoulder or anything. I just needed some time to think. Figure out how in the world we could've gotten to this point in our lives."

"Come up with anything good?"

Blair shook her head, her smile bittersweet. "Nope. Only the thousand different ways that I'd like to throttle my mother."

"Do you know what you're going to say to her?"

"I don't know that I'd ever want to speak to her again." Blair finally admitted.

"So I don't have to worry about you sneaking out of here, the minute I leave to meet up with Dan?" One blonde brow quirked, Serena's expression bordering on incredulous when Blair shrugged.

"No cab fare, remember?"

"Like Blair Waldorf ever let herself sweat small details like that."

"Well, you have a point there." Blair wrinkled her nose, "Seriously, though. I gave both you and Chuck my word. I won't confront my mother. Not tonight at any rate."

"Good."

"Now you just don't forget what you promised, Serena Cecilia van der Woodsen."

"Oh god. Blair, for the very last time. I won't say anything about our little talk to Chuck. Seriously though, B. He was going to tell you himself. You know that, right? If you'd have waited…"

"Could you have?" Blair demanded softly, knowing the answer even as she spoke the query.

"No."

"Good, then you understand why I don't want you saying anything about this to Dan Humphrey, either." She made a face, "Telling him anything is the equivalent of taking out a full page ad, for godsakes."

"I won't say anything to Dan, either."

"Not to anyone, S. Promise."

Serena reached over and hugged her best friend, "Cross my heart." She moved the twins to the cot with Alex and started for the door, her teeth chewing at her bottom lip. "I'm heading out. Are you sure you'll be okay?"

She tried not to be surprised when Blair pasted on her sunniest smile, "Perfectly, now go find Nate. I'm going to try to get some rest. Big day tomorrow."

Neither of the girls said a word. The pink elephant in the corner making its presence known. Just what would tomorrow bring, besides the coming New Year. Where she should've been growing more and more excited about finally leaving St. Vincent's, she was picturing her mother handing over newborn, Evie. Refusing to see fragile Kat. Barring Chuck from Blair's side for weeks. Months.

Once Serena was gone, Blair dimmed the lights again. Taking refuge in the darkness that had terrified…overwhelmed her just days before. Despite her words, she knew that rest of any kind would be long in coming. Instead she practiced all the things she would say to her mother.

"Mom…Mother…Eleanor." She started. With Serena gone, the darkness flooding the room, Blair waited for the torrent to come. It was safe enough and no one and nothing would bear witness, but she was beyond tears and anger. Too much had happened. It wasn't a question of forgiving her mother, because what the woman had done was beyond redemption.

Over the years, Blair had let so much slide with Eleanor but this was beyond the pale. Now she knew the truth, B suddenly wished for the bliss of ignorance. What the hell was she supposed to do now? In the old days, she would've been a woman on a mission. Ready to eviscerate anyone who crossed her or hurt someone that she love, and she was still that Blair but this was her mother.

What takedown, could she plot to destroy her own mother…how could she lash out at the woman most and let her feel even a measure of the caged emotions threatening to consume Blair, burn her up from the inside out. Burn her up until there was nothing left to mourn or love besides smoke and ash. That was what her relationship with her mother amounted to now. The woman just didn't know it yet.

Chuck wanted her to wait for him, but this…this was something between mother and daughter. She turned on her side, closing her eyes and tried shutting off her mind. Think of anything else but the constant barrage of thoughts that granted her no relief.

"God, Mother. How?" She breathed, the same mournful question that would trouble her years to come because there was simply no good or right answer for that particular question.

~ஐ~

Chuck paced restlessly. He'd been left to cool his heels in the administrator's office. Almost a half-hour of excuses from her secretary and the woman still had yet to make her promised appearance. He'd laid the groundwork earlier for this visit and now he just needed the damn woman to get there so he could confirm that Georgina Sparks was not in fact institutionalized in this effing place. No, that bitch was likely back in New York, dreaming up some fresh disaster to unleash on cooling his heels in the administrator's office.

"Mr. Sparks, so sorry to keep you waiting. More than one emergency delayed my getting here in time. Did you want anything? Coffee? Tea?"

"No, thank you. I just wanted to say again how much I appreciated you agreeing to meet with me at the last minute. Today of all days. I'm sure that you've got plans to spend time ringing in the New Year with your own friends and family."

Chuck leaned forward, his aim to charm and outright lie his way into Georgie's padded cell.

"Well, Mr. Sparks…"

"Please call me Charles. Mr. Sparks is my father." He told the woman.

"Of course." She nodded, "Now as I told you earlier when we spoke, Mrs. Sparks…you mother…"

"Stepmother," Chuck amended politely, a wealth of meaning in that simple title and his expression.

She blinked at him in confusion but seem to digest the distinction quickly enough, "Oh, yes. I'm sorry. I should not have assumed."

"It's okay. My father married quickly after his first marriage. Georgie came not long after."

"I see"

In for a penny and all that, Chuck forged ahead with the rest, "We grew up much closer than you'd think. Given the circumstances."

"It must have been very difficult for you both."

"Oh you have no idea. As you can guess from the glaring omission of my name on that list...my stepmother never engendered a close relationship with Father or Georgie." And cue the violins, Chuck gave her his most pitiful expression. " It wasn't the easiest thing growing up there. It was a relief when I went to live with my mother's family on a permanent basis. Grandmother thought of Georgie as one of her own, though. My sister didn't do very well on her own on that house, as our present circumstances would attest."

The director nodded, offering both her sympathy and understanding, "Indeed. You sister was a mess when your parents…sorry...your stepmother and father left her with us. However, from all of the reports I've gone through since you called...your sister is like a whole different person.

"Oh of that I'm certain." Chuck nodded, in more ways than you know, lady. "So can I see her? I wanted to bring news of our grandmother's passing. Such a chore should be left to a family member. Wouldn't you agree?

"Completely, but explicit instructions were left limiting your sisters visitors to Mr. and Mrs. Sparks, alone."

"And how long has it been since they visited? Six months? A year?" He demanded softly, playing the part of indignant big brother. Silence fell between them as he awaited her answer, though he already had it on good authority that Georgina's parents hadn't wandered that part of the world since dumping their troubled offspring in this place. Not once in almost two years.

Fuck. And to think, of all the times he'd considered his own father a heartless bastard. Apparently, not by a long shot. The elder Sparks, by comparison, made Bart look like Mike effing Brady.

Glancing quickly through the folder that he just realized had been sitting there all that time he'd been just sitting on his ass waiting, the director cleared her throat. She didn't say anything to confirm his words but her disapproving expression was proof enough.

Chuck tried again, "I meant what said earlier. I only need a few minutes. Just long enough to let her know about my grandmother. That and well—that when she leaves this place I'll be keeping an eye on her." that last part was all true if not something of an understatement. Once he got actual visual confirmation that that crazy bitch was indeed being treated within these hallowed halls, he'd have someone--other than Phillips keeping an eye on the place. And if the woman across from him ever released Whoregina from her cage, he'd have her every movement tracked.

But first he needed to be sure that any possible danger or threats lurked not from Georgina but from some other source.

Chuck waited for the woman's agreement to him visiting his "sister," and when those words came he fought the satisfied smirk from curving his lips. "I suppose there wouldn't be any harm." She said.

Voiding any calculation and satisfaction from his expression, Chuck went for humble and grateful, two displays with which he had but a passing acquaintance. Something of that fact must have shown as the director stilled and gave him another long assessing look.

He offered up a lopsided grin and settled for charm instead. The tried and true method that rarely failed him when it came to anything in stockings, from coeds to grannies.

"I'll just go see her myself and let her know of your presence." The director said, Chuck's satisfaction stuttered and fled with those words.

Cursing silently, Chuck said, "Actually, Madam I was hoping to surprise Georgie."

"But you already are...as you said yourself she doesn't get very many visitors. It'll be a good treat for her...help her ring in the New Year on a brighter note." She winked in conspiracy, "I'll back with you in a moment."

He forced smile only until she left him, carrying Georgina's file under her arm. Chuck cursed silently, he'd already had designs on glancing through the thing. He checked her computer and found it predictably password protected. Chuck settled back, telling himself that it was almost over. Soon enough, he'd be back on that G5 and speeding his way back to New York and Blair for their New Year's celebration. Finally, springing the surprise on her that he'd been planning for over a week. So close.

Chuck waited for the director's return and wondered at Georgina or more likely imposter Georgina's reaction upon hearing of her "brother's" impending visit.

Waiting for the director's return, he readied himself for two possibilities... either Whoregina was here and about to put the kibosh on his deception or her stand-in was pissing in her pants fearing she was about to be discovered into he midst of her own scheme. Either would offer much needed proof but Chuck still didn't plan on leaving until he laid eyes on the lunatic himself.

The director didn't keep him waiting this time around. He heard the door opening behind him and wondered what he'd be confronted with. An extremely pissed off or very confused director. "Charles…"

And here we go. How would he play it?

"As you'd expect your sister is excited to see you again…" The woman said.

Well, not quite what he'd expected. Chuck started to turn around to face her.

"As a matter of fact, she couldn't wait to see her big brother." Another voice chimed in, sounding all too familiar.

He frowned, caught off guard and turned to take in Georgina Spark, smiling like the spawn of Satan.

"Hey, bro. Long time no see."

~ஐ~

It took him three tries before he actually made it up the steps. The first time he needed a moment to adjust to the vertigo he'd started to experience. The second time, he made it halfway up but was rushing back down to puke his guts out in the gutter. All he could think of was how long it'd been since he'd been this fucking drunk. The night before his wedding, his boy had thrown him the bachelor party to end them all. Best not think about that though or Chuck's nearly serious offers to get him out of the whole damn thing. He'd even offered the company jet as a means for his quick getaway. Granted they'd been on said jet at the time, flying down to Miami, the first of many stopovers for the night. Chuck had promised to get Nate to the church on time the next day that was all he'd needed. He'd partied it up with Eric, Chuck, and the others. He'd had the time of his life. They'd somehow ended up spending most of the night and early morning hours in Vegas. Much of the how or what was a blur but Eric liked to say that they all had a very good time. And he'd gotten Chuck to mix-up his little hangover cure all and so he'd been mostly none the worst for drink.

Nate wobbled back and forth, holding on to the railing and heaving himself up the steps. He grinned, knowing that he'd need his good ol' buddy to work his magic come morning. Perk #356 of having Chuck for a best friend, perfected hangover remedies.

He made a grab for his keys, fingers fishing around blindly in his coat pockets. Nate leaned heavily against the door. For a moment his mind churned sluggishly trying to remember if he'd left his damn keys in the cab. He couldn't remember, but then he felt something metallic brush his fingertips.

"Ha!" Nate grinned drunkenly and pumped his fist in triumph. "Oops. Sh!!!" He said, teetering for a second as his head whipped from one side to the next, looking up and down the slumbering neighborhood.

Glancing to the side, he half expected to find the nosey old lady, hanging out of her window next door. Staring down her disapproval. Except she wasn't. And what's more, there was a tree now blocking her previous unfettered view of his stoop.

Damn. When had they planted a trick? It was a big ass tree and why hadn't they thought of planting the damn thing months—no years ago. Vanessa had probably put it there trying to make him forgive her. Faithless bitch. He'd meant what he'd said earlier. He didn't forgive her.

Nate glared over at the towering tree, focusing all of his loathing on that point. He finally yanked his keys out and then spent the next five minutes trying to puzzle out why they didn't fit the fucking locks. He leaned on the doorbell, all the while scratching at the lock with his useless keys, making a song of his wife Vanessa, the most faithless bitch on the planet. He resisted the urge to bang on the door. Stella!! Like in that play they'd seen last year with Lily, Chuck and Serena. Nate couldn't remember the plot, he'd just left a double shift at the station and had fought the tempting pull of sleep.

Nate didn't bang on the door, though, or call out. The Archibald family had faced more than enough scandals thanks to the Captain and his grandfather. He didn't want to add to it but putting his marital woes on full display for the entire fucking neighborhood. Fuck. What had she done now? Changed the goddamn locks on him. It was his goddamn house. Sure, he'd intended to let her have it all at first but that'd been before she told him about Carter.

A light suddenly flickered to life on the first floor. The old fashion sconce to his right flared, blinding him momentarily. He held his hand up to shield sensitive eyes. Nate didn't realize he was still leaning against the doorbell until the front door was yanked open. By someone who was decidedly not Vanessa but rather a male someone.

His hands fisted at his sides, Nate forced himself to count backwards, dragging in deep breaths of frosted air.

"What the hell do you think you're doing…" the familiar voice and face demanded. And it wasn't Carter. Another one?

Nate blinked rapidly, seeing two of the man where there should have been just one.

"Honey, why did you open the door. I told you to just call the police."

Laughing at that, Nate was about to identify himself as "the police" when he realized that the feminine voice didn't belong to his wife either.

The man lowered the golf club at this side, features pinched and eyes squinting in recognition, "Nathaniel is that you?"

"Gerry?" Nate frowned, trying to figure out what the older man was doing at the brownstone...in his bathrobe. For godsake not Gerry too. The man had been married for more than thirty years. Great another marriage down the tubes. Nice work, Vanessa.

"Honey."

That was definitely not his wife. Or his foyer.

"It's fine, darling, just Will's grandson."

"Well, what is he doing banging on the door at this hour of night." She demanded.

Nate stumbled backward trying to get a peek at the street number over
the door. Hmm, now that wasn't his address.

"I think you'd better put the coffee on." Gerry reached out, grabbing him with a staying hand and pulled the younger man inside, "you know a simple phone call would've done the trick."

Right. Gerry had left him a message earlier. One he'd been avoiding returning. The one he'd been bent on returning after he final managed to disentangle himself from the waitress he'd picked up. They'd ended up at her apartment in Soho and afterward all he could think about was how much he needed to talk to Gerry.

"I thought of calling but that would've been rude at this hour."

"So you came over instead?"

"Exactly." Nate flopped down, head thrown back against the sofa. He yawned, suddenly mindful of the time and what almost everyone in the city was doing at that hour of night. "Hey, I didn't wake you guys, did I."

"It's a mite early than we're used to but no harm done. I take it by your presence though that you'd like to forge ahead with this divorce."

"Yes!" Nate nodded, his speech slurred. "I want that part of my life over and done with."

"Fine. Just fine, I'll file the petition as you requested. Irreconcilable differences."

Nate shook his head, negating their previous discussion. "Try adultery."

"All right. We can do that. I know you were concerned about this before and wanted to keep things amiable."

"Not anymore. I want out but the gloves are off. She gets nothing. No settlement. No house."

"So you want me to break the prenup?"

"I don't care what you have to do to make it happen. If you're not up to it, let me know. Chuck said his people could handle it if I needed a real shark."

"Nathaniel, I've been in this business for longer than you've been alive. Trust me, kid, when I say I've been in the middle of more one nasty divorce. No one does vindictive quite like the UES."

Nate smiled his approval. "That's all I needed to hear. Think I'd better let you guys get back to bed." he started to his feet and landed flat on his face not two seconds later.

Gerry gaped at his client's unconscious form. His wife came back with coffee in hand.

"Oh. I'll get the guestroom ready." His wife said. "And fix his head. That can't be comfortable."

"Doesn't seem to bother him. Bet he'll feel it in the morning."

"Are you going to call his grandfather?"

Gerry shook his head, "Nope. Doubt Nathaniel would appreciate that. No, just let the boy sleep it off. Go ahead. I'll bring him up."

She disappeared, leaving the older man with the daunting task of figuring out just how he was going get Nate up there. "And just in case you were wondering ...this is definitely on the clock, kiddo."

~ஐ~

Dorota nodded, "Mm-hmm. I understand."

The other end of the line fell quiet before Miss Blair's less than pleased tone sent the maid's fluttering lashes wide. "Dorota, are asleep?"

Sleeping on the job? Never. The maid's spine snapped to attention and though she still felt sluggish, her heavy lids ready to fall at any second. She blinked rapidly fighting the urge to lay back down for even a few minutes. At least until she could reassure her mistress of her avid attention.

She reached out and nabbed the Garfield notepad that the girls had given her for her last birthday.

Only once she was absolutely certain of Dorota's attention did Blair finally lay out her plans for her mother.

Dorota was wide awake by the time her mistress finally hung up, two pages of notes. She almost felt bad for Miss Eleanor. It seemed that tomorrow would go very differently than her former employer was likely expecting.

The maid glanced over Miss Blair's explicit instructions one last time before switching off the lamp. Despite her worries to the contrary she was falling over the edge into sleep. This time around though she didn't dream of that yummy blonde Bond doing his level best to charm Dorota right out of her pants or stockings rather, off of her. No, hers was a dream that was an older recurring nightmare. Her beloved Miss Blair waking up to find that Mr. Chuck had never returned and both if her babies given to new mamas and never seen again.

The dream was a blessing. It would make her task easier come morning.

ஐTBCஐ

A/N: So Blair's wrestled with what to do about her mother and made her decision. What do you guys think Queen B has planned for Mommy Dearest? First destroying the bar at the Palace…almost getting arrested and visiting his lawyer with a "wam-bam thank you ma'am"in between. Chuck's journey has taken him on some unexpected turns. Georgina's in the hospital after all…hmm.

I won't leave you guys hanging long. Hopefully I'll have the next one posted tomorrow or Friday at the latest. Hope you liked this one. Let me know what you're thinking. Later *kiss*

Courtneyஐ