Blair sat at her desk for the next five hours. She ate her lunch at her desk, half convinced that if she left her new boss would lock her out of the building. It was nearing five o'clock and she was about to gather her things, when the intercom line rang. Her stomach bottomed out, but she would be damned if she let him see her sweat. With a clear, professionally cool voice, she answered the line.

"How may I assist you Mr. Bass?"

"My office. Now."

She picked up her iPad, ready to take notes... even if this was just him firing her. Blair's head was held high, and her movements were sharp and precise as she walked into his office. She stood in the centre of the room, in front of his desk. She said nothing. Neither did he. Her chin was held high, she was Blair Waldorf, and she did not back down.

The funny thing about silence was how fucking long it could feel. Especially when you were in a pissing contest, with each one having no interest in being the person who spoke first.

Time passed. His eyes stayed locked on his computer screen. She kept her gaze focused out the window. At least she had an excellent view of the skyline. It really was too bad she lived in Brooklyn, because she didn't think there was anything more beautiful in the world than Manhattan. It called to her, and whenever she was on its soil, it felt like where she was supposed to be. It felt like home.

"Who are you?" His voice came out of nowhere and she nearly jumped. "Wait... I don't need you to answer that..." He waved a hand, imperiously towards his screen. "I have all my answers right here..."

"Ah, detective work." Blair nodded, and replied coolly. "Please, Jessica Fletcher, reveal your case."

A flash of ire came and went from his eyes. He'd been planning this all day, and wasn't going to stop now. "Blair Cornelia Waldorf daughter of Harold and Eleanor Waldorf. You were born and raised in Boston... an only child, but apparently many of your teachers whispered that your parents should have had more... Translation? That means you were spoiled."

She eyed him, keeping her expression tranquil. "Or I was just better than others, and as such experienced their jealousy."

"Yes, that must be it..." Chuck said with a straight face. "Your parents split up when you were 12, and your father remarried when you were 15. You were a bridesmaid at his commitment ceremony."

"He and Roman are very happy." She said smoothly.

"Your mother never remarried."

"She never met anyone good enough for her. Waldorf women don't believe in settling."

"And yet you got married at 21?" He followed quickly.

"When it's right you just know." Blair said without missing a beat.

"And it was right to marry an unemployed writer that you are responsible for supporting?" His tone suggested derision.

"My husband is very talented-" She didn't want to let him know his line of questioning was getting under her skin. She hopped she was succeeding.

"I'm sure he'll write the next Great American Novel." He said snidely.

"I'll make sure you get a signed copy." She smiled dryly at him.

"You need the job." Chuck cut to the chase, trying to catch her off guard.

It didn't work.

"Yes, Mr. Bass, I need this job. Hence the reason I applied for employment. It's how our economy works."

"Well, Ms. Wal-"

"Mrs. Humphrey." She slipped in. She never went by her husband's name, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"My apologies." Chuck said coolly. "Well, Mrs. Humphrey... It would seem we're at an impasse..."

"I don't see how we are? I have a contract, and you have no grounds for dismissal." She said with more confidence than she felt, knowing her contract gave Bass Industries many loopholes to fire her with.

"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow." Blair said plainly. "Goodnight, Mr. Bass."

"Goodnight, Mrs. Humphrey."

Blair didn't hyperventilate till she was on the train home to Brooklyn. She'd kept her job, and she told herself over and over again that this was the source of her emotions. She needed a job, and this was a great one. That was it. The energy and the electricity shooting around her body had nothing to do with the man she now worked for. Walking from the station she took her jacket off despite the coolness of the evening. She pushed the door to the loft open, and for a moment her husband didn't notice her he talked on the phone adamantly as he cooked dinner. He laughed in the way he did when someone was telling him he was brilliant. He must be talking to his father.

She shut the door with a little added force, and was rewarded with Dan spinning around to face her.

"Blair!"

She had to smile at how excited he always was to see her.

"Dad, I'll have to call you back. Love you too." He hung up and walked quickly over to her, pulling her into a hug and giving her a light kiss. "You're home!"

"Yes, what an excellent deduction... of me standing in our loft."

He rolled his eyes at her dry tone, but took her things, and hung up her coat. "So? How's my little working girl?"

"That makes me sound like a prostitute." She said as she sat down on their couch, turning to lay down, and the wiggling her feet at him with a little pout on her face.

He rolled his eyes, but came and sat down by her feet, pulling her shoes off, and starting a sigh inducing foot massage. With her eyes closed Blair told Dan her day was as good as first days could be. It wasn't really a lie. A first day that didn't end in immediate dismissal was pretty good.

The next day Blair arrived at work, expecting another day of nothing. She'd even brought her Kindle and a recent draft of Dan's latest work that he wanted her to edit. However, when she saw the pile on her desk, along with the emails on her computer, she caught on to Mr. Bass' new tactic.

For the next two weeks she came in early and left late in order to finish everything he assigned to her. She did it all efficiently and with a cooly polite smile on her face. It was another busy Tuesday, and Dan had been texting and calling her non-stop all morning. She ignored them all until the stress of the report she was working on, and the incessant chime of her phone, had her ready to pull her hair out.

"What!?"

"I'm going to take it, from that tone, that you are totally psyched and excited to meet my sister at the Bridal Salon for her dress fitting?"

Blair let out an aggressive huff. "She's IN fashion. Dan, does she really need me there?"

"You two are sisters... and you know what we say about family-"

"I know, I know. I've read the plaque on your Dad's kitchen wall." Blair interrupted him. "I'll be there."

At five to twelve Blair fired of a text to Chuck, letting him know that she'd be out for lunch, and she was out the door at twelve on the dot. As she rode the cab to the boutique, Blair braced herself for time spent with her sister-in-law. Blair and Jenny hadn't exactly hit it off right off the bat. Maybe it was that they just didn't like each other, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that Blair had dated Jenny's boyfriend, now fiancé, in High School. She pasted a smile on her face when she saw that Jenny was waiting for her outside the store.

"Blair!" Jenny's looping gate brought her to the cab before Blair was even out of the cab.

"Jenny." Blair greeted and exchanged quick cheek kisses.

Blair was seated on a plush couch, as she waited for Jenny to come out from behind the heavy, purple velvet curtain. She was perfectly happy to sit there quietly, sipping the glass of champagne an attendant had give her, but she could hear Dan's voice nagging her in her head, and so felt compelled to speak.

"So, are you getting excited for the big day..." Blair asked politely.

"Of course. Oh, you know how it is-" Jenny cut herself off, because they both knew Blair and Dan's wedding hadn't been much for tradition.

Blair had raised a brow, and let Jenny stew by not saying anything back to her. It was down hill from there, and Blair was glad when she had to excuse herself to go back to work.

She she got back to the office, she hadn't even sat down at her desk before Chuck was materialized in his doorway. She hadn't even heard him approach and now he was only a little over a foot away.

"Did you have a good lunch, Mrs. Humphrey? Met up with Mr. Humphrey, I presume?" His tone was polite, but there was a buried edge to it.

"Why would you presume that?" She asked innocently.

"Only because you haven't taken a full lunch break since you started working here, so I have to imagine today was for something special..."

"It was everything I expected it to be..." She breathed, her eyes were locked with his, and she tried to ignore the way her pulse fluttered through her veins. She was just getting it under control when he leaned in, ever so slightly, and inhaled smoothly.

"Is that alcohol I smell on your breath, Mrs. Humphrey?" His eyes drifted over her lips before capturing her with his warm amber gaze again. "Are you sure you're fit to work this afternoon?"

"I'm fit... for any job I put my mind to, Mr. Bass..." Blair said slowly, her voice rife with innuendo. She made note of his subtle tight swallow, and realized they were so close she could smell nothing but his cologne, cigarettes, and the subtle smell of him underneath it.

"Good to know..." He said before involuntarily clearing his throat.

"Do you need me now?" She husked, and her inch closer was unconscious.

The ping of the elevator was like a bucket of cold water over them, and the both jerked and stumbled back from each other.

Chuck flicked a gaze a pile of files on her desk. "Get that done by the end of the day."

"Yes, Mr. Bass." Blair said as coldly as he had spoken.

When he was gone she sat down at her desk, a little harder than she had expected to. With trembling fingers she lifted the glass to her lips and drank deeply. In her whole life she had never felt this exhilaration when with another person. She also knew that she had to lock it down.