'Are you Sure?'

Dark lights and a flicker of red. The world was asunder and Chuck was right in the centre, calling her name. Skin tight; Crystal lace and the noise deafened him. He could practically feel the sultry red lips of the dancers on stage as they spun around their star performer, the one with the lavishing brunette curls. He tugged at his suit jacket with pride, taking another swig of bourbon as he stared assuredly at the dancer as she dropped her dress to the floor. A flush of heat rose to his collar as he watched her curves swaying gently from side to side, eyeballing any man who dared to look upon her. He decided in that moment, that somewhere, somehow, she would be his.

Suddenly there was a rumble, and it felt like the whole club was stirring beneath his feet. The glasses began to tinkle upon the bar tops. He looked up at the girl performing as she looked around wide eyed and afraid. He wanted to protect her, save her, but he didn't know how.

"Wait." She cried, "where are you going?" He felt himself slipping away from the darkness and away from her, but he wanted to stay, all he wanted to do was stay with her and...

"Chuck Bass! If I have to knock on this door one more time I'll be leaving without you. Stop pining for your lady friend and get out of bed. We have a business to run." Called his uncle, commandingly, from behind the door. Chuck rubbed his eyes lazily and looked around the hotel room, the remnants of powder and drink from last night lying casually across the coffee table by his bed.

"Just a second." He shouted back, looking towards his wardrobe and sighing heavily. Only a week left in Paris: and still so many decisions to make.

Blair popped the sleeping mask from around her eyes as she awoke to the rest of the world. Like a sleeping goddess awoken, not by a kiss from a prince, but by the conviction of her own self worth that dragged her from her handsome abode.

"Dorota..." She sang sweetly, "I must have my breakfast if we're to be getting an early start on today's duties."

"Yes, Miss Blair," returned Derota, carrying in a silver tray covered with an array of fruit and breakfast pastries.

"That will be all." She shooed, stretching herself out under the covers and tasting only the most appetising fruit that had been laid in her presence. She heard a beep from her cell, and her eyes lit up as she saw the latest Gossip Girl post, Chuck was still in Paris, and even better, she had an exact location. Today was going to be a good day. She could just feel it.

Jack Bass looked at his nephew from across the oak table and began to squirm. It was unhealthy, unnatural to let a girl get under your skin like that; and their business was clearly beginning to flounder under the weight of a weak leader. He could see the fear in the eyes of his colleagues sat in the meeting room of the Artisan Hotel: Chuck was distracted, and with the profits beginning to weaken in the economical crisis of the summer, somebody had to take action.

"Chuck?" He called, watching the vague, dim light switch on behind his eyelids. "A word?"

Jack stood up from the table, and beckoned him towards the door. Chuck followed like a puppy, watching the eyes of his subordinates, all eager to watch the baby Bass fall.

"Chuck, you're not yourself." Jack urged, pulling on his collar as he tried to speak some sense into his nephew. "Please, just go home and get some rest."

"I'm fine." Chuck replied, "I can do this, Jack." His voice sounded stern, and Jack almost faltered as he felt the return of Chuck's stubborn nature. He watched the dreams of his own empire crumble as Chuck departed back towards the door.

"I called her." He shouted out in desperation. The words tumbling out of his mouth, before he had a chance to think about the lies he was twisting around his crooked lips. "She's waiting for you, in your hotel room." He corrected, smoothly, watching Chuck's hand pausing on the doorknob of the meeting room. "Let me finish up here. Just go! She's not going to wait around forever you know."

Chuck gave Jack a smile, "you have no idea how much this means to me." he said, "you've really had my back this summer. And for that, I am eternally in your debt."

He watched his nephew walk smoothly from sight, before Jack pulling his cell from his suit breast pocket and beginning to dial a number which he knew almost off by heart.

"Yes, hi, I'd like a friend for my guest tonight... Yes, it's the same suite as usual... Yes, the one this time. Preferences... Hmmm... I'd recommend a brunette. He has a thing for... Yes, that'll be all. Thank you for your time."

Jack walked back into the meeting with a smirk on his face. Amateur, he murmured to himself with victory. "Mr Bass has been called away on urgent business," he motioned to his colleagues, "but thankfully he has left you in my excellent and capable hands." The row of seats nodded in agreement, and Jack Bass had a sour taste in his mouth. They called it, the taste of success.

"Blair!" Chuck called, banging open the door of his hotel room with a wicked glint in his eye. "God, I've missed you..." His face started suddenly with distaste as he saw an unknown woman displayed lavishly in red, dripping over the edge of his bed.

"And who, are you?" He stuttered angrily, his cheeks red, already seeing how easily he'd been played by his psychotic uncle.

"Annette..." She slurred huskily, spreading her legs as she stepped up to press her deep red lips into his palm. "You called for..."

"I asked for no-one." He bit back, refusing to look at the stripper as she tried to wrap her body around him, her big blue eyes looking up into his with desperation as she pulled her red lips closer to his.

"Please, leave me." He rasped coarsely, watching her step up from the bed with embarrassment. Her eyes looking misty in the daylight as she tugged with embarrassment at the laced corset and black knee high stockings that she was wearing, suddenly feeling massively under dressed.

"I'm sorry, if I offended you." He added guiltily, "you're not who I thought you were."

"Neither were you." She retorted, tying up her coat before flouncing out of the room, trying to retain any sense of dignity in which she had left.

Chuck rubbed his temples with exasperation as he watched the door close behind his uncle's mistake. If Jack had thought that he was that easily won over by a stripper, in red lace, then he had seriously underestimated the competition. That was his mistake of four years ago. He would not make the same mistake again.

Picking up his phone his dialled the, oh so familiar number. The one from forever ago.

"Blair?" He asked, nervously. Putting his heart on the line for one final time. They had waited so long for this. It was tantalising, excruciating and he could barely restrain the ecstacy as he waited to hear her crystal voice on the other end of the line.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

Three words. Ten letters. A Reiteration of the first question he had ever asked her. On that fateful first night in the back of his limousine.

He replied, only with

"I'm yours."