A/N: I know this has been a long time coming and for that I apologize. Real Life has been utterly hectic and I did my best to write whenever I could. This is the beginning of the Birthday Party and a scene that I know you're all looking forward to. Obviously, there is CB interaction. :D Oh, and this is kind of long, longer than I would have liked, but I couldn't find a good place to stop until the point that I ended up reaching. Most of the POV is Chuck's but I'll make that up to you next chapter. Hopefully. Enjoy the read and leave me a review if you like.

Disclaimer: I don't own Blair, Chuck, or Gossip Girl. If I did, Blair would realize that Nate is a whiney baby and Chuck is all the man a girl could ever need.

Warnings: T for occasional language and adult themes; may change to M in later chapters.

IF ONLY

Chapter 4

"Underneath"

Stepping off of the elevator, Blair was caught between feigning amusement at whatever joke Serena had just told, which she hadn't been listening to, and searching the room for the two men that occupied her thoughts. The clamor of the party that had been given in her honor surrounded her, yet they hadn't waited for her arrival to begin the festivities.

She plastered her most genuine-looking smile across her face when she encountered Kati and Is; they were more excited about the gathering than she was. Lending a distracted ear to the conversation around her, Blair almost missed her cue to agree when Serena exclaimed how wonderful Kati's brother's apartment was. After doing that small duty, she completely missed the rest of the conversation; she was preoccupied with sweeping the crowd for Chuck or Nate's presence.

When Serena suggested a tour of the apartment, Blair followed along unwillingly to keep up appearances. The only good thing that came of her obedience as Guest of Honor was that, after a tour of the party space, she hadn't seen either Nate or Chuck. All at once she was very relieved, but the feeling only lasted a moment. Her skittishness returned because their absences only meant that she still had to anticipate their arrivals. She had been hoping that they would be anticipating hers, instead.

Mingling with her guests, Blair was doing her best to try and act as if she were having the time of her life. She put on the face of the perfectly happy party girl. It was her seventeenth birthday; she was young, beautiful… and alone. Even though Nate had suggested they get back together, she beginning to believe that she would actually turn him down. Her immediate reaction to the break up had been relief and that was not an emotion that signified a love that had been severed unjustly.

If only Nate would show up so that she could get the whole undesirable ordeal over with. Then, maybe, Blair could actually admit the truth to herself: that Nate was the last person on her heart.

After sitting down with Serena to fresh sushi, prepared by the chef that was hired for this evening's soiree, Blair's friend inquired, "Hey, so, where's Nate?"

Dreading having to lie to her best friend, yet again, she said flippantly, "Um, I'm sure he'll be here soon…" Trying to change the subject, she added, "What about Dan? You better check in on him… make sure the best friend hasn't whisked him away for some friendly activities." Blair had, grudgingly, become an expert on that type of situation by now.

The rant from Serena that followed Blair's accusation, that her friend's boyfriend could be anything other than loyal, was lost to the brunette's ears. Glad that her effort to change the subject had achieved the desired affect, she concentrated on choosing a morsel from the tray in front of her.

She found her elation to have been premature, however, when the blond, yet again, mentioned Blair's ex-boyfriend's name. "Well, anyway, I hope everything's alright with Nate!" Rolling her eyes at her friend's persistence, Blair was just about to take a delicate bite of sushi, when Serena exclaimed, "Oh, there's Chuck! I bet he knows where Nate is!"

Doing her best not to drop the chopsticks holding her now unappetizing piece of sushi, Blair gracefully placed the utensils back on the platter. Passing off another excuse, saying that she was just going to go look for Nate, Blair left her stool and started to walk away from Serena before the blond could stop her.

Strolling as slow as she dared, in the opposite direction of the elevator that Chuck had just stepped out of, Blair quickly looked over her shoulder and accidentally caught his eye. The expression on his face attempted to steal and succeeded in causing her to pause her escape for a moment. The combination of emotions his face bore weren't any of those that Chuck was thought capable of, yet Blair found the sight engrossing. He looked shocked at her presence, even though he knew she would be at her own party; confused, as if she had worn an outfit of thrift store couture; and completely enraptured by her every move.

Shrugging off the heat his gaze brought to her cheeks as best she could, she made her way as far across the apartment as she could get from him.

From the second that he left the protection of his limo to the moment the elevator doors opened, Chuck had told himself that he needed to remain aloof. Don't show her your hand. Surprise was the only way for him to keep Blair on her toes and not let her know how much he was hurting over their exchange that morning. He was in a whole new place when it came to those things called feelings and it wasn't something that she needed to be privy to just yet. Especially if she didn't give a shit about what had happened between them and led to his subsequent emotional upset.

After the doors opened with a swish and a ding, he stepped out and found his eyes immediately drawn to Blair's delicate form. Her soft, brunette locks were gathered up to bare her shoulders, making him long to feel the strands run through his fingertips as they had done only hours ago.

Coming to the party was definitely one on a long list of stupid decisions that he'd made today.

When his gaze drifted to see Serena's stare resting on him, he watched as her lips formed his name. Apparently this was cause for Blair to spring from her seat as if she couldn't get out of the room fast enough. As she began to walk away from him, he caught her eye for a mere second and all thoughts of remaining indifferent went out the proverbial window. When she met his gaping eyes, an emotion completely anti-Blair flitted across her face: remorse. He didn't know what she read on his face, but somehow she must've known that she'd put it there.

Before he could even call out her name, she turned around and practically sprinted away from him.

Serena, however, was still calling his name. It was only when she grabbed his arm that he was finally shaken out of the reverie caused by his visual brush with Blair. "Chuck!"

Resisting the urge to shake his head to clear it, he tried to infuse a sufficient amount of slime into his tone. "Hello, S. Flying solo tonight?" A smirk flitted across his lips, but only because he'd the conscious thought to do so. He really didn't have it in him to be genuinely inappropriate tonight.

The blonde ignored the attempt anyway. "No, Dan just hasn't gotten here yet." Her eyes swept the room quickly before meeting Chuck's. "Anyways, we're all worried about Nate and are wondering…do you know where he is?"

"We?" The question sprang from his throat before he could stop it.

Her eyes narrowed, as if she had grown a brain cell that would notice something was off with him tonight. "Me and Blair," she said slowly, like he should have known the answer.

It took an enormous amount of restraint to keep from blowing up in her face. Chuck wanted to scream into her hollow head that he was the last person who should be asked that question. He was doing his utmost to avoid Nate; there was no way he'd know where he was. "I'm afraid I am unaware of his plans for tonight, Serena. My plans on the other hand are to find the nearest bottle of scotch, so if you could point me in the direction..." As his voice dropped off suggestively, Serena's eyes rolled back into her head and she pointed half-heartedly behind her.

Luckily it was the same direction that Blair had taken off in.

As he crossed the apartment searching for her, he felt a glimmer of hope rise in his chest at the knowledge that Nate wasn't there. Then his heart sank as soon as he remembered that she had obviously been expecting him. Had the little heart to heart he'd with his best friend that morning sunk in? Could Nate have come to his senses and decided that it was over with Blair for good?

He tried to wipe the questions from his mind; a clear head was essential to escaping this particular confrontation with his heart unscathed.

As soon as he set foot out onto the terrace, he found her with her stomach leaning against the railing; as if admiring the view was more important than preserving her, no doubt expensive, Valentino party dress. The normally staggering splendor of New York City at night, with the Verrazzano Bridge glittering brilliantly in the background, paled in comparison to her beauty. Chuck thought it impossible for one to overlook her when she entered a room and absolutely preposterous that she was considered the plainer visage when next to Serena.

As he told himself to stop waxing poetic about her appearance, he took large, silent, strides across the space until he was an inch behind her. When he placed his hands on her hips and his lips to her ear, he whispered seductively, "Are you ready for your present?"

Blair had begun to relax into his embrace until he'd spoken. After she realized who was holding her, she turned around and locked her eyes to his, disapproval plain on her face. "What part of me walking in the opposite direction of you could have possibly been misinterpreted as 'come find me' instead of the intended 'leave me the hell alone?'"

So that was the way she wanted this to go; if she was going the bitch route, then he would play the part of the scoundrel. Fixing her with a cool stare and infusing as little emotion as possible into his voice, he scoffed condescendingly, "Blair, while you are fully aware that I'm a man of many talents in regards to the female body, reading a woman's mind is not an area I claim to be expert in."

Suddenly, she grabbed the hair on the top of his head and pulled his neck so that it stretched out over the railing, giving him a great view of the street below. As she proclaimed, "You're heinous," her tone wasn't as biting as she was obviously hoping it would be. She had just, unwittingly, betrayed how vulnerable she was. It was almost as if she didn't really want to fight with him.

Before either of them could speak, a random party guest walked by and shouted, "Happy Birthday, Blair!"

After she released the death grip on his head, Chuck watched, amused, as Blair formed the fakest smile on her face and replied, "Hi! Happy Birthday to me!" Once they were alone again, the imposter grin melted from her mouth and she fixed him with a glare that made him feel like the gum on the bottom of her designer heels.

"Okay, so I may be heinous," he sniggered, "But everything that you do is fake. So I guess that makes you a knock-off." Again, no matter how hard he tried, the smirk that would have normally accompanied a biting insult wouldn't rise to his lips.

Her eyes moved from his face to the scenery, her expression belaying the injury his words had caused. It was as if she couldn't bear to look at him.

When she spoke it was so soft that he had to rest his elbows on the railing and lean in to watch the profile of her face in order to read her lips. "Is this what we are now?" She sounded resigned and cheerless as she continued to speak, "Even our bantering is skewed and broken. Has everything really changed so much?" She turned, putting her back against the railing and met his eyes, waiting for his answer. The isolated expression on her face filled him with a longing to fix whatever had shattered between them.

"Listen, Blair... this morning..." He had barely vocalized the stuttering thought when she shot a glare so hateful at him that he could swear to feel a burn on his skin.

"This morning you acted like a jealous boyfriend!" Her face had morphed from desolate to irritated, turning the empathy he'd been feeling into a dread of where this conversation could lead.

Still, he was Chuck Bass, so he attempted to keep up the quickly fading appearance of indifference by scoffing half heartedly before replying, "You wish."

As he turned his eyes from her face to study where his shoes met the ground, he saw an incredulous look come over her face causing her jaw to drop in an extremely unladylike fashion. "No... You wish."

He scoffed again, like it would make him sound more unconcerned and sway her from the conclusions that were surely forming in her head. "Whatever. You forget who you're talking to, Waldorf." He still thought it best not to meet her eyes, so he kept staring down, hoping she would drop the subject. This wasn't the way he wanted her to find out that Chuck Bass actually possessed a heart, let alone that it was currently beating for her.

But she just couldn't leave it. "No, you forget who you're talking to, Bass." Her tone became unsure, as if she feared he would run. "Do you... like me?"

As the question hung in the air between them, Chuck felt powerless, unable to avoid her query and completely sure that he didn't want to answer. It wasn't that the words were elusive, just that his would surely send her dashing for the nearest exit.

Keeping his eyes affixed to a point over her right shoulder, he stuttered for the second time that day. "D-define like." Knowing he looked probably looked pathetic and guilty, he couldn't bring his eyes to her face for her reaction.

As the uncomfortable silence stretched, he wished that he could take the words back; she'd ultimately ripped the truth from him and now he was subject to the consequences of his weakness for her. The wait was hell.

Finally, she stated the obvious. "This can't be happening, Chuck!"

The ridiculous thought that she could wish it away clipped the power cord to his restraint. "How do you think I feel," He snapped. "I can't concentrate on anything, I haven't eaten, and it feels like there's something in my stomach... fluttering."

She made a choked sound, causing him to look at her face for the first time since he'd made his uncharacteristic confession. The astounded tone to her voice and her features made him wish for a hole to crawl into. "Bu-butterflies?" She spluttered the word. "No... This isn't possible... it's not... possible." The offending butterflies were crushed under the weight of her reaction and he couldn't put forth the effort to prevent his face mirroring the pain. "Chuck, I... I didn't mean..."

As she struggled to get a coherent sentence out, he slowly started to feel the apathy he had longed for all night wash over him; now, he couldn't care less. "Fine. Forget I was even here."

"Chuck... I, I'm just... you have to give me a second... this..."

He steeled his resolve by taking a deep breath and got right in her face, using his most condescending tone, "It wasn't that good anyway."

As he turned around and made his retreat, he heard a soft word, "Thanks," as he crossed through the door.

Having stormed away from the scene of his confession, Chuck had stoically stalked the strange apartment until he found an empty, dark bedroom to brood in. Once inside, he closed and locked the door before sinking down against it to sit on the floor. He had the most intense urge to bang his head into the door in disgust at how quickly he had fallen apart. Blair had asked him a single, simple question, yet he had folded under the weight of it and revealed his losing hand. He'd been at her mercy and she'd rebuffed him. Chuck had never felt so humiliated in his life.

And yet, he was still fighting the urge to go to her; to try to make things right.

After sitting in the dark with his thoughts for countless minutes, he'd had time to cool down and reflect on her reaction. Maybe she wasn't completely disgusted by his feelings... just surprised. He shook his head to clear it of that ridiculous idea, but it refused to stop clouding his mind. Once again, he was feeling the inexplicable urge to apologize for his actions, and this time the motivation was probably valid.

Chuck Bass had made fool out of himself and amplified the indignity by cowering in a dark room because of it.

A/N:

Okay, I'm not completely happy with it, but it'll have to do. Your opinion matters to me, so what did you think?