Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They belong to Cecily von Zeigesar and The CW.

I want to start off with a big thank you to all of you who are still reading this. I know it's hard to be a Chair fan right now, but you all are showing your faith. We will get each other through this. I'm hoping our dynamic duo has a plan. Who's with me?

Blair awoke the next morning with the warmth of Chuck at her side. It brought tears to her eyes the thought that she'd nearly denied herself this moment. She'd almost married another man, a man that even though he was wonderful and treated her like royalty wasn't the man that she'd loved, certainly not in the way a woman should love her husband. This man at her side was that man. She knew that she could never lose sight of that again. They were going to have their bumps, and there were going to be days that she would hate him, but at the end of everyday she would always love him more than any hatred she's build up.

She'd somehow managed to talk him out of wearing his trademark silk pajamas to bed, so she could revel in the feel of his bare skin. She allowed her fingers to sift through the coarse hairs at his chest.

"Careful, Waldorf, that hand is drifting into dangerous territory," he mumbled as her hand drifted low to his abdomen.

"I was just seeing how low I could go before you woke up," she told with an innocent look as Chuck's fingers tangled with hers as he brought her hand to a safer destination of his upper chest.

"I'm awake now," he smiled as he gathered her close to him.

"Yes, you are," she smiled as she wrapped herself into him further.

"What shall we do today?" he inquired as he brushed a stray hair behind her ear. They could hear the pattering of rain against their windows. They didn't need to draw the blinds to know that today was going to be washed out by the weather.

"Let's just stay in bed all day," her eyes glimmered with a familiar mischievousness.

"We both know that's not going to be an option," he chuckled as he released her and rolled onto his back.

Not wanting to be denied of his warmth, she curled herself into him as tightly as she could. "That library that we were shown yesterday seemed to have a plentiful supply of books. Perhaps we could find one that is entertaining to us both and take turns reading it to each other, or we could see what the movie theater has stocked and watch a film," she suggested, "Or perhaps a game of chess. Perhaps you'll get lucky this time and beat me."

"I've always let you win at chess," he confessed.

"You do not," she slapped away at his chest. "You are entirely too sore when you lose."

"Which isn't nearly as sore as you would be if you lost," he laughed.

"That settles it," Blair announced, "We are going to play chess, and you are going to play to win. May the best player win."

"I accept your challenge," he replied.

"And the loser has to run around the island naked for two hours the next day that the sun is out without sunscreen," Blair decided to up the wager to ensure that he would truly play to win. She knew his skin would burn to a crisp in that amount of time, and he would surely be miserable.

"Done," he agreed.

After a quick breakfast in which they each showed a bit of gamesmanship by staring the other down without speaking, they set up the board and began to play. What was usually a mere two-hour contest turned in to an all day event. Having decided to play without time limits, it was common for each to take twenty to thirty minutes to make a move as they analyzed every possible outcome.

"You're trying to distract me," he called her out as she drew patterns along his hand as he was analyzing his next move.

"I am not!" she scoffed. In truth she wasn't distracting him to gain an advantage in the game. She was craving his touch. They'd been playing the same game all day, sitting across from each other with very little physical contact. She needed more.

"Cheaters never prosper," he teased as he made his next move.

Blair quickly processed his move and realized he had left her a huge opening. Two more moves and she would be the victor. Not wanting to seem eager she played it coy, waiting several minutes before she made her next move, calling out, "Check."

Before she could have another thought, Chuck moved another piece, calling out, "Checkmate."

"What!" she gasped in horror as she looked down at the board. She couldn't possibly have lost.

"I believe that is game," he replied with a proud smirk as he rose up from the table.

"The game isn't over. This isn't checkmate," Blair stated in disbelief. It simply couldn't be checkmate. She refused to acknowledge that she'd lost.

"Stare at the board for as long as you want, it's checkmate," he replied as he came around behind her to stare over her shoulder. With a kiss to her earlobe he added, "But I commend you on an excellent game."

"Don't patronize me, Bass," she growled as she knocked over the board, all the pieces still left on it went flying across the room.

"This is why I let you win," he replied as he picked up the board along with a few of the closest pieces.

Blair let out a squeak of annoyance as she turned on her heel and left the room. Her heals clicking across the marble floor as she made her way up to their bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. Knowing she'd need a bit of time to cool down, he took his time in putting the board away.

"Is everything alright, Mister Bass?" Yvechelle inquired as she came in with the tea she had made for the pair.

"Oh, yes," he chuckled, "Blair is just upset because I did as she asked and the outcome wasn't in her favor."

"It's none of my business, but there seems to be a lot of hesitation between the two of you," the caretaker stated her observation, "Trepidation is perhaps a better way to put it."

"It's complicated," Chuck sighed.

"Love always is," she smiled, "Take me and my Tomas. Before we came to this island, we fought nonstop. This island healed us."

"Blair and I are definitely in need of healing," he replied.

"You should try the hot springs on the other side of the island," she suggested, "The previous caretaker swore by them. She always used to say that they'd cure anything that ails you."

"May I ask a question about the island?" Chuck inquired.

"Of course," she nodded.

"Why was it called Misery Island?"

"The original owner of this property was a rich man that bought this island for a woman he planned to make his wife. He was desperately in love with her as was she in love with him, but there was a second man in the picture that was vying for her attentions. On the eve of bringing his ladylove to this island and proposing, he was talked out of it by the second man. The second man claimed that he was better for her and could make her happier. Never truly feeling as though he deserved her the owner conceded to the second man and walked away, breaking the heart of his ladylove and himself. He came to the island alone and drank himself nearly into oblivion. In his drunken stupor, he came up with the name 'Misery Island'. The caretaker eventually hauled him into the springs and made him sit there until he pulled himself out of it. With a renewed sense of purpose he returned to his lady, begged her to leave her then husband. She did, and they ran away together. They returned to the island very briefly where he did propose," Yvechelle explained.

"Why didn't he keep the island and simply rename it?" Chuck inquired. The irony of the story was not lost on him. It was as if she was telling the story of him and Blair.

"That part of the story is fuzzy," she admitted, "All of that happened before Tomas and I came to the island. The original caretaker was getting on in age. We only know as much as we do because of the journal that she kept. She never mentioned why the island was sold, or why none of the other owners changed it. Mister Hollywood was the one to hire Tomas and myself. We understood why he didn't change it. He simply wasn't creative enough."

"Blair and I will be changing it," Chuck replied.

"Which Tomas and I would truly appreciate," she laughed, "Have you any ideas yet?"

"We came across one yesterday, Evelyn Isle, after my mother," Chuck explained.

"By the hint of sadness in your eyes, am I to conclude she is no longer with us?"

"She died the day I was born," he nodded.

"I'm very sorry, Mister Bass."

"I should go see if Blair has calmed down yet," Chuck stated in a sudden effort to change subjects.

"A spot of tea couldn't hurt," Yvechelle smiled as she handed him the tray.

"You don't have a white flag handy, do you?" Chuck inquired as he accepting the tray.

The caretaker quickly adjusted a few pieces of the china on the tray and pulled out the linen napkin. "This should work sufficiently."

"I surrender," Chuck announced as he opened the door just enough to slip his white flag into the room.

"Chuck, don't be stupid. I'm not mad at you," she replied as she went to the door and yanked the napkin out of his hand. He pushed in carefully to reveal the tea tray he'd been carrying.

"I could have sworn that you were the one that knocked the chess set onto the floor and then stormed out of the library. Perhaps that was my other fiancée," he mused as he set the tray on their bed.

"I'm mad, but not at you," she sighed as she poured herself a cup of tea. "I'm mad at myself. I thought I had the game won. I didn't see the angle you were playing and was blindsided."

"If it makes you feel any better, I won't hold you to our wager," he offered.

"No backing out," she held firm, "Because I would have made you do it if I had won. I'll keep up my end of the deal."

"I'll propose a more secluded location," Chuck suggested.

"More secluded, Chuck, there are four people on this island. How much more secluded can it get?"

"There are actually ten people on this island at the moment," he corrected her, "Our two caretakers and my flight crew."

"I didn't know that," she admitted, "Where are they?"

"In the staff cottage," Chuck replied, "It's a separate residence half way across the island. It's were Yvechelle and her husband, Tomas, have their permanent residence, and were other staff members stay when they come onto the island."

"So this secluded spot is where?" she inquired.

"Different side of the island, I think," he responded, "I'll have to ask Yvechelle for an exact destination. It's supposed to be a magical place."

"Isn't this entire island magical?" she smiled.

"Drink your tea," he smirked as he reached for the remote to open the window blinds. The clouds appeared to be breaking up enough that their ritual sunset might be a possibility.

TBC. . .

Here's hoping that the Dominican is still an option in the very near future.