A/N: Here it is: the first chapter of Blair Waldorf Must Pie. I know... FINALLY! :D I'm sorry if this isn't quite up to par. I really struggled to write this chapter for some reason. Hopefully next chapter will be better. Oh, and I know I didn't respond to my reviews from last chapter, but I figured ya'll would rather have the new chapter than replies. I hope I wasn't wrong.

Thanks to Sharon and Tatiana for helping me get through this chapter.

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: Rated T but may change to M in later chapters.

IF ONLY

Chapter 15

"Get Up and Go"

When the morning light drifted in through the curtains and fell on Blair's sleeping form, she tried to ignore it. Sighing, she rolled over and instantly regretted the reflex; the emptiness in her stomach at finding the other side of the bed cold and empty caused her to groan. Her brain knew that she would be alone, that he was out of town, but her body had grown accustomed to the feel of him next to her, so the habit formed.

How did she let herself get so attached?

She shouldn't have been so used to waking up next to Chuck. When they'd begun the thing formerly known as a fling, she'd told herself it was just for fun; purely physical. It wasn't supposed to be so easy to be herself around him, to flirt with him, or to laugh so freely; he was supposed to be her escape from the emotional, but now she found herself tied to the idea of what the future could bring.

A future possibly including Chuck Bass; her ex-boyfriend's best friend, her partner in crime, her dependable companion who had begun wriggling his way through her defenses and into her heart. What if, once he got in there, he broke it? She knew he was in deep, his willingness to be tied to her, even as loosely as they had agreed to be tied last night, was uncharacteristic and obviously brought on by deeper feelings than friendship.

The problem with involving something as fickle as emotions was that someone would get hurt in the end.

At first, she had been willing to allow his feelings to be hurt; it wasn't that she was leading him on, exactly, but everyone had to experience heartbreak once in their lives, right? It was part of living and learning.

She hadn't expected to develop feelings for him.

Now she couldn't bear the thought of causing him that kind of pain, one that she knew all too well.

Disgusted with herself and her poor attempt at guarding her recently recovering heart, she threw herself from the covers of her bed and marched to the shower. Under the hot water she continued her inner tirade about her failures, scrubbing her hair roughly as a form of punishment. She was so angry at the situation that she could spit.

The only reason she didn't was the fact that Waldorfs don't spit.

When she exited the shower, wrapping herself in a towel, and stood in front of the mirror to chew her self out for being so utterly stupid, her negative thoughts came to a grinding halt. Her reflection in the slightly fogged mirror was the way it always looked after a shower: sopping wet hair and flushed skin. The one difference, the sight that stopped her jaunt down the road to regretting ever meeting Chuck Bass, was the tiny spot on her collar bone in the shape of his mouth.

She couldn't bring herself to call it what any other teenager would; hickey was such a crass word. A mark like this one was so much more monumental then the usual sign of a normal teenagers' lack of restraint. No matter how much she tried to fight the thought, for Blair there was another, more fitting, term for it…

Love bite.

Running her fingers over the tiny bruise, the memories of how right yesterday had felt came flooding back; every kiss, every touch more precious than the last. They'd finally talked, honesty overflowed, and they'd said goodbye ferociously when he'd only be gone a few days. Even more cherished was his voice on the phone when he called to let her know his plane arrived and then she'd lain in bed talking to him for two hours without batting an eyelash.

They'd barely hung up when the text message came from his side, reflecting the timid sentiment they'd exchanged earlier that day: 'I miss you.'

The hope she'd felt, reading those three words after all that had been spoken between them, wouldn't let her hesitate in sending back the appropriate response with a smile.

Maybe she'd never see in her bathroom mirror the beauty that he claimed she possessed, but she knew she never felt more beautiful than when he told her of it.

The unalterable truth was that she couldn't make herself regret this. It might not have been meant to happen this way in that fairytale she'd always dreamed she would someday live, but it did. She was moving on; defining her relationship with Chuck had been the first step.

Somehow Blair was thinking less and less of Nate every day that she cautiously considered Chuck hers.

The slow pace of Blair's descent turned to a rush downstairs at the sight of the large table that had been set up. How could she have forgotten the date? Her father was coming for Thanksgiving and it had completely slipped her mind!

A little voice inside her head whispered a certain boy's name in explanation as to why she'd overlooked the day's significance and her smile grew a little larger.

With thoughts of how great this day had the potential to be, she rushed into the kitchen to find the only thing it was missing: her father's signature Pumpkin Pie recipe. Going through drawers and books that Darota would be sure to scold her for rearranging later, she didn't hear the elevator ding.

A voice she knew very well exclaimed, "Happy Thanksgiving, B!"

Blair spared a second of her search for a glance at Serena, a smile on her face, "Happy Thanksgiving, S!" Sitting at the kitchen island, rifling though a book, she continued, "I have to find this recipe before my dad gets here."

A chair scraped the floor while her friend took a seat next to her. "Harold Waldorf's Famous Pumpkin Pie!"

Looking up with a laugh, Blair mouth lifted in a grin, "Well, it may have been Bobby Flay's, but that didn't stop my dad from taking credit for it." She couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice when she squealed excitedly, "It's gonna be perfect!"

Serena smiled back, "Look at you! Quite the chipper Sous Chef."

"Well, I'm in a good mood!" At Serena's smirk, Blair rolled her eyes jokingly, "It happens; sometimes because I increase my Lexapro, sometimes because my dad's in town."

"And sometimes, mostly, because things are good with a boy." Tilting her head to the side, the blonde asked hesitantly, "What's Chuck doing today?"

Feigning innocence, Blair asked, "Why are you asking me?" She pursed her lips, trying to look upset, "We may be dating, but it doesn't mean that I have Lo-Jack on him or anything."

When Serena's mouth dropped open, Blair couldn't contain her grin. "What, S?"

"DATING??" Flabbergasted, the blonde's eyes were wide as she asked, "You actually got Chuck Bass to commit to a relationship? When?!"

Laughing gaily at her friend's reaction, she explained, "Yesterday, before he left. We took a short break from our usual activities and talked about whether we were going to keep seeing each other when he got back." She sighed contentedly and went on, "And, let me tell you, the sex after the talking was more amazing…"

Serena cut her off before she could go on too far; "I really don't need another reason to go to therapy, Blair, so please keep comments about sex with Chuck to a minimum?"

At the blonde's visible shiver, Blair giggled and mockingly responded, "Okay, I'll try."

"So, B…" Her friend began seriously, "Does this mean you're going to tell Nate?"

Blair felt all of her good humor disappear, wiping her face devoid of emotion. "Why would I do that?"

"Don't you think you should?" Serena's discomfort was apparent in the way she avoided Blair's eyes, "Now that you're not just fooling around?"

Trying to change the subject because she really didn't want to talk about this when she'd been having such a good day, she replied, "Oh, we're still fooling around…"

Serena blanched at her comment, "You've been spending too much time with him if you're trying to distract me like that. Be serious, Blair."

Sighing heavily at her friend, Blair replied, "I am, S. Nate and I have been over for a couple weeks now; I'm under no obligation to tell him I've moved on." It wasn't any of his business who she was spending her time with. Blair was beginning to wish that not even Serena knew; if it was still a secret, they wouldn't be having this premature conversation.

"It's only a matter of time before you and Chuck slip up and Gossip Girl gets a hold of something," Serena pointed out, reaching to hold Blair's hand on the counter. "Don't you want Nate to hear from you that you've moved on to his best friend, rather than from someone else?"

Blair snatched her hands away in indignation and spat, "Oh, you mean the way that you told me about what happened between you and Nate when I was still dating him?" If this were any other person, Blair would have congratulated them on their guts. The high horse from which Serena seemed to think she was speaking just pissed her off, though.

Rubbing her forehead in exasperation, the blond groaned, "That's not the issue here."

"You're right, it's not… but it doesn't make it any less hypocritical of you to be nagging me about this." Fixing Serena with a glare, Blair attempted to close the subject: "Nate and I are over; I don't owe him anything." She really didn't, at least not until she was sure this relationship with Chuck was going to last. It was unnecessary to involve her ex and his possible hurt over the news when she didn't know how long Chuck was capable of being tied down. If they kept it together for a while, they would tell Nate together.

Apparently, her best friend was more thick-headed than usual this morning. "It's going to hurt him if it doesn't come from you or Chuck."

"S..." Blair shook her head, deciding to just point out the obvious since the other girl was obviously not going to put the pieces together on her own. "I doesn't matter who it comes from; nothing hurts more than sleeping with the best friend." Maybe that will get through to her.

"Nice one, Blair," her friend replied, wounded. "Way to prove a point."

It's about time she caught on. "Did I finally prove my point?" Blair asked sarcastically, "Well, I learned that particularly hurtful lesson from the master."

"If you're going to purposefully make the same mistake I did, then I'd say the student's become the master."

She could still see the pleading behind Serena's eyes, the tanned hands inching their way back toward her own. How could the blonde think that trying to protect someone she did still care about was a mistake? Nate didn't have to know yet; it wasn't necessary!

Why couldn't Serena just leave it alone and let her enjoy her newfound happiness? Then it hit Blair like a ton of bricks; maybe it was her good fortune that was the problem.

"Oh, I see..." Her tone was caustic and she hoped it burned in her friend's perfect ears, "For someone who's supposedly my best friend, you really can't stand for me to be happy, can you?!"

To her credit, Serena had the sense to look surprised. "WHAT?"

"I must not be allowed, since you've been trying to steal it away from me since you got here." Standing up, Blair pointed in the direction of the elevator. "I don't need your selfish games and negativity here today; please leave."

Serena stood up as well, looking confused. "But Blair, I-"

"Just go," she stood with her hands on her hips, barely controlling her rage, "You're no longer welcome here."

Amazingly enough, Eleanor decided to make her appearance just in time to miss the whole conversation. "Blair, darling, are you going to help me at all?" Turning to the blonde she asked with a smile, "Serena, do you know when your mother's arriving?" How she didn't sense the tension in the room was a mystery.

Serena didn't smile back. "She's not," she answered softly. "We're not doing Thanksgiving here anymore."

Eleanor asked in surprise, "Oh! Why?"

Eyes boring through the girl who was supposed to be her best friend, Blair stated simply, "Because I uninvited them."

Stifling her smile of triumph, Blair watched as Serena grabbed her purse from the counter then turned to leave. "Happy Holidays, Eleanor."

When the blonde was out of sight, it was suddenly very apparent that there were extra people in the unusually noisy apartment. A uniformed person rushed past Blair and she turned to her mother in shock. "Caterers? What's going on here?"

The patronizing look on her mother's face was so annoying. "Everyone is getting ready for our lovely dinner and you should be too," Eleanor replied.

"Everyone except Daddy." Her mother's face went blank and Blair felt her stomach drop, "Where is he?"

"I thought you knew," the older woman sighed.

Blair twisted her features to mirror her mother's blank facade. "Knew what?"

"Your father isn't coming," Eleanor reached out to touch her shoulder as she spoke. "He didn't tell you?" Scoffing, she went on to explain, "He decided to stay in Paris. He's got either too much work or Roman is too much work. Who knows?"

The disappointment was too heavy to keep out of her voice when Blair responded in futility, "I don't understand; if he wasn't coming why wouldn't he just call me and tell me himself?"

"Darling," her mother smiled sadly, "You should know by now that your father is not a fan of the difficult conversation. Now, why don't you run along and change into something a little more enchanting." Was it really impossible for her father to pick up a phone? He knew how important this day was, so did her mother. What was her excuse for not warning her?

Turning in defeat, her once wonderfully perfect day destroyed by her loved ones and their many issues, Blair headed upstairs to get dressed for the party that she wished she could avoid attending.

After her initial heartbreak over her dad's absence from their special day, and a change of clothes, a quiet fury began to boil in her brain. "Ugh! How could he just blow me off?!" She groaned to Dorota, who was helping her with her outfit, "Thanksgiving is our ritual! You know he didn't even call? How hard is it to pick up the phone?"

"Miss Blair," the maid began cautiously, "maybe you pick up phone. Call your papa. Maybe he tell you the real story."

Meeting her long-time companion's suspicious eyes in the mirror, her curiosity was peaked. "Real story?"

"With pearls," Dorota concluded, leaving to fetch the proper accessory.

Blair stared at her reflection and nodded in quick decision; obviously she was missing something. If Dorota said there was another story, then Blair was going to be making a phone call to France.

Dorota had a knack for being right.

Starring out at the Chicago skyline, Chuck decided that it wasn't anything special. Sure, the afternoon sun was reflecting off the buildings visible from his suite's window, glass glittering and metal shining, but it didn't have anything that New York couldn't offer him. There was nothing new to draw him to it like Monaco, with the pure beaches and exotic cuisine. Then again, even Monaco wasn't really all that interesting anymore.

Maybe he should just own up to the one quality that only New York possessed and get on with it. It shouldn't be so difficult to accept that he'd done nothing but think of her since he left.

The plane ride with his father the night before had been boring, so he'd spent the time deciding whether to call Blair or text her. Arriving at the hotel, the two men split off into the separate rooms that his father had booked them, as was the usual routine. It hadn't dawned on him to tell his father that it wouldn't be necessary for him to have a private room; he could have saved the money and just gotten them a suite with separate bedrooms.

As preoccupied as Chuck was with thoughts of Blair, he couldn't have concentrated on seducing another woman if he'd wanted to. And he didn't want to; wasn't the least bit interested in the idea, in fact.

All he wanted to do was get on the plane and back to her.

Talking to her on the phone the previous night had assuaged the longing to be with her… slightly. Her voice warming him even though his bed felt empty. He could barely remember what they'd talked about now, but it'd been a comfort to know that they still had their warped version of a friendship. Even if there was a new shade of familiarity now that they were lovers as well.

It was easier to get used to this relationship thing than he thought it'd be.

Turning from the window, the view, and the thoughts of who wasn't in one of the buildings surrounding him, he sighed. Time for sitting through dinner with his father and trying to force conversation; it made him roll his eyes just to think of it.

Grabbing his phone, he turned it over in his hand a few times. Should he call Blair before he left to wish her a Happy Thanksgiving? It seemed like a good idea; he just wished that he wasn't so clueless about the uncharted waters he was now sailing in.

Before he could change his mind, he pressed speed dial number three on his phone and felt instantly better about his decision when it began to ring.

A/N: Another chapter over and out! Please let me know what you thought.