A/N: Yes, this Celine Dion song is cheesy. Yes, I adore it and will be using it anyway. Also, upon uploading I realized that FF erased every single one of my returns, so I had to go through the whole thing and press enter a million times to get it legible and back to normal. The things I do for you all...

And for my fantastic reviewers kauraREX, livelovelaugh9704, nics, and Zara - I would press enter another million times!

P.S. I am going to the beach again this weekend (Virginia Beach this time) and I'm hoping the weather will be better and I'll come back chillaxed and ready to write! Until next time - you know how it goes ;) xoxo

Chapter 17: Taking Chances

Don't know much about your life.
Don't know much about your world, but
Don't want to be alone tonight,
On this planet they call earth.
You don't know about my past, and
I don't have a future figured out.
And maybe this is going too fast.
And maybe it's not meant to last
-"Taking Chances" Celine Dion

Blair giggled for the fourth time in ten minutes and hoped she wasn't overdoing it. She and Louis were at a museum, a sweet sentiment coming from him, considering a museum was where they had first crossed paths. He had sounded borderline euphoric when she had called that morning, and it made her feel relaxed enough to agree to the date at the Met. And while she wasn't usually one to meander within the reaches of tourists, it was one of her favorite places, a place where she could reminisce about her days of dictatorship at Constance – the steps, the minions, the frozen yogurt, the blasts, the talks with Serena. Louis was busy comparing and contrasting it to the Louvre and Musee d'Orsay, and Blair feigned interest as he told her about his favorite painting – Starry Night. Was he serious? Everything that came out of his mouth was a boring platitude, and he practically oozed facileness; it was blaring off of his Gap button down – the pale blue polyester a ludicrous attempt by the prince at being "normal."

"Blair?" Even the way he said her name was grating on her nerves. Bleh, he said, like he had eaten something nauseating and her name was his repulsed interpolation. She could even picture him sticking out his tongue. "Are you listening?"

"Of course," she said sweetly, tucking her arm through the crook of his elbow. "Please, continue. He seemed to buy it and commenced a new topic of discussion, something about a party in honor of the visiting French ambassador and needing a date… Wait a deuxiéme. Blair hastily snapped to attention.

"…And so while I really don't want to go to this boring party," he was saying. Like you can complain about boring, Blair thought, using all her strength to abstain from rolling her eyes. "I was hoping you could accompany me and make the night much more enjoyable. What do you say?"

"I say oui!" she squeaked. Now he was getting a little more interesting. "So where is the party?"

"I was told it was at a library."

"The New York Public Library?" exclaimed Blair, thrilled in spite of the less than desirable prospect of spending an entire evening with Louis. Then again, Gossip Girl would never miss an opportunity to report on an event that big, and it would mean all of Manhattan seeing her on the arm of a real prince. So what if he didn't ignite the organs in the northern or southern parts of her anatomy? He would ignite the jealousy of the girls at Columbia, not to mention assist in reaffirming her status as undisputed queen of New York's high society. It was enough to make up for his flaws, more than enough, Blair reasoned.

"Yes," he answered. "That's the place. Oh, I almost forgot! I have something for you."

"Like a present?" Blair asked, perking up at the idea that being with a prince would at least provide a prerequisite of fabulous gifts.

"Does it count as a present if I am giving you something that is already yours?" Blair could practically feel her eyes dropping degrees until they hit sub zero.

"I don't think so." But she glued another smile to her face to make up for the eyes.

"Well, I should return it to you anyway." He signaled to his security guard (also wearing Gap clothing, the khakis barely reaching the ankles of the nearly seven-foot tall frame), who brought over a rectangular box. Louis grinned widely as he opened it to reveal the shoe she had left him at the museum with the words that he could always come find her in New York.

"You brought me back my heel!" she cried, pleased with her own ability to set up such a romantic gesture.

"Did you think I would not?" he teased her.

"I had no idea whether you would," she said honestly. "It was a spontaneous decision to give it to you in the first place, and I figured the most I could lose out of it was a shoe."

"A very expensive shoe," Louis put in.

"But replaceable nevertheless." Blair reached out for the heel, but Louis picked it up before she could.

"You must allow me." He dropped to his knees and slipped off a single Jimmy Choo to replace it with the navy, gold-buckled Vivier. "This is how it went in the fairytale, is it not?"

"I thought you said in Paris that this wasn't a fairytale," Blair reminded him affably, shifting her weight to the Vivier side.

"With a woman as incredible as you, how could it not be? Blair," he stressed, taking her face in his hands. "This can be a fairytale and still be real."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Louis. It's just that I don't know if I believe in fairytales at all anymore."

"Then this can be called whatever you want it to be," Louis laughed good-naturedly. "An epic, perhaps? I know finding you was my personal Odyssey." Blair let her eyes roll this time, but a beam accompanied them. Sure, Louis was a bit bland and his conversations tended to be peppered with chestnuts, hackneyed dictums, and equally dull stories, but he was sweet. He was caring. He was kind. And being with him was so easy – the tuning out when she felt like it, the compliments he gave, the way talking to her seemed to make him so happy, and mostly the fact that she could take her shoes off in the middle of a museum and not be embarrassed by it – that she decided that this was an epic journey she was willing to travel on.

…

Chuck's eyes turned a deep shade of umber when he saw the picture that Gossip Girl sent out of Blair getting her shoe put on by the visiting prince from Monaco. Was Blair the reason he was here in the first place? And was she giving him a reason to stay, perhaps even permanently? Well, if Chuck had anything to say about it, Prince Charming would be on the next flight back to Monaco.

Chuck knew Blair better than anyone, it was true, and therefore he knew that if he shared his opinion on the matter, she would just cling tighter to the prince and her blossoming dreams of life as true royalty. No, honesty was not going to work. The only possible way to bring her castle in the clouds down to earth would be to get her begging for gravity, and Chuck knew exactly how to do it.

"Raina?" he asked into the speaker of his cell. "About last night – I may have been too hasty. Care to accompany me to a gala for the French ambassador?"

…

Serena entered Nate's office with three bags on her arm – one was her purse, one held her laptop, and the third was plastic and covered with a CVS logo.

"What's that?" Nate asked, pointing at the third.

"Just you wait and see," Serena replied, twirling the bag around in her hand.

"Nothing is going to pop out of there, though, right?" Nate raised his eyebrows in worry, and Serena laughed at his trepidation.

"You never know. I may be hiding some clowns in here!" She said, laughing, as Nate grew horrified with the mention of one of his greatest fears.

"Not funny Serena! I will never LOL at any joke that involves clowns."

"But will you ROFL?" she questioned, quirking an eyebrow and continuing to laugh brightly. She opened the rustling bag and took out a plastic bowl, placing it on the center of Nate's desk.

"What's that?"

"It's what it will be that's important," she told him impishly. Next out of the bag came an abnormally large package of gummy worms, which she poured into the bright blue bowl. They were followed by an assortment of other snacks and candies – Doritos, Cheetos, Oreos, and Skittles among them – until the bowl was nearly overflowing.

"I'd be lying if I said that didn't look good." Nate eyed the rainbow, eye-popping mix of food and felt his stomach rumble.

"It's good and good for you," Serena joked, picking up a lime gummy worm and dangling it in front of her mouth. "Now dig in! We need fuel in order to work!"

"You're absolutely right," agreed Nate, his mouth already stuffed with Cheetos, the puffs leaving a speckled dusting of orange around his lips and on the collar of his shirt. "To The Spectator!" he toasted, raising a green gummy worm of his own.

"To The Spectator!" Serena declared, whacking her candy worm against Nate's.

"You know, Serena, I think this may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Nate, I couldn't agree more."

…

"Louis," Blair greeted her date, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Don't you look handsome?"

"And don't you look breathtaking?" he asked in return. "Here. These are for you." He handed her a bouquet of roses, long-stemmed red roses that reminded Blair of Valentine's Day and cheesy romance movies.

"Thank you. They're lovely," she said with a tight smile. "Dorota!" The polish maid scampered into the room and proceeded to curtsey copiously until Louis had to order her to stop.

"Your Highness," she said respectfully, still keeping her head bowed. "It an honor to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you as well, Dorota," said Louis. "Blair has told me many tales of your companionship."

"I – well – I," Dorota stuttered, stumbling over her words until Blair discreetly elbowed her side. "Well Miss Blair very big part of my life for very long time. I have many tales of her too."

"I would love to hear them sometime," the prince replied with an air of archness.

"I don't think so," Blair cut in before Dorota could respond in the positive, which she no doubt would if given the opportunity. "There are some things that need to be kept in the family, don't you agree Dorota?" she inquired pointedly.

"Yes, Miss Blair," confirmed Dorota, before whispering to the prince with a wink as Blair got her coat, "We talk another time."

…

When Chuck arrived at the party with Raina, it was already in full swing. There were society matrons milling about in the corners, their noses upturned and their mouths pursed, young men trying (and failing) to flirt with beautiful women, and couples dancing in the center of the room, where a floor was set up and a quartet was playing "Skater's Waltz." It was there that he spotted Blair – she was dancing gracefully with the prince, and they were being shot glances that strayed back and forth between admiration and jealousy.

"Let's dance."

"You know how to waltz?" Raina asked him dubiously, stifling a laugh.

"I grew up on the Upper East Side. I was shoved into the same dancing classes as everyone else my age," he explained with a shrug.

"Okay then." They joined the group of rotating couples and Chuck found himself only mildly dissatisfied with Raina's skill level. With the exception of the discomfort he experienced by her close proximity, she did everything right. It wasn't beautiful dancing, like the way it was with Blair, but it was accurate. As he twirled Raina, he felt a pair of eyes on his back and knew she was watching. Whether it was watching with pure curiosity or something more, he wouldn't know until he saw her face. He maneuvered his position in order to get her in his line of sight and soon viewed the mask of cool indifference she was putting on. Her eyes were vacant but for a modicum of aversion and defiance, and she met his head on, not rupturing their contact until Louis whispered something in her ear and she threw her head back in rapturous laughter. Chuck felt his stomach turn over. "Do you want to go get a drink?" Raina purred in his ear, breaking his focus.

"Do you mind getting one for both of us?" he asked, attempting to infuse politeness and amiability into his tone.

"Not at all."

"Great," Chuck breathed, relieved. "And make mine a – "

"A scotch, yeah I know." She flashed him one last grin prior to setting off toward the bar. Chuck knew he had only a short window of time before Raina returned, and before he got the chance reflect on what he was doing, he found himself in front of Blair and Louis.

"Excuse me, Your Highness, but would you mind if I borrowed Miss Waldorf for a dance?" he asked, the "your highness" a dangerously close to a sneer. Luckily, Louis was as thick as he seemed and ignored both the contempt in Chuck's voice and Blair's pleading eyes.

"Of course not," he said lightly. "As long as I get her back!"

"I promise," Chuck replied. It was only when Louis walked away that Chuck added under his breath only loud enough for Blair's ears, "That getting her back is not going to happen."

And I had my heart beaten down,
But I always come back for more, yeah.
There's nothing like love to pull you up,
When you're laying down on the floor there.
So talk to me, talk to me,
Like lovers do.
Yeah walk with me, walk with me,
Like lovers do,
Like lovers do.

What do you say to taking chances,
What do you say to jumping off the edge?
Never knowing if there's solid ground below
Or hand to hold, or hell to pay,
What do you say,
What do you say?

Until next time – xoxo