Title: A Week of Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf

Author: BookCaseGirl (Abby)

Date: June 15, 2009 (Beginning) June 21, 2009 (End)

Status: Complete

Rating: T

Classification: Fluff, fluff, fluff.

Summary: After 2x25 and the Chuck/Blair 'I love you' scene. The week following Chuck's confession and the beginning of a Chair relationship. Series of very fluffy oneshots; one for each day.

Author's Note: So here it goes...the last chapter...!

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl.

A Future Together, Not Apart

"Let's go to France."

"Um, what?!" she said in shock, lightly setting her fork down on the silk tablecloth.

They were having dinner at Butter, per Chuck's request, because he had something to tell her. He had been completely over-agonizing and finally – after a great deal of playing plate-hockey with his rib-eye – just decided to spit it out. If she loved him like she said she did, she would react accordingly.

Or she would be freaked out.

"I booked a flight last week and I wanted to surprise you. We never did get to..." he trailed off, almost ashamed. Then Chuck remembered that things were different now, and that was in the past. Nothing to feel sorry about any longer. He was strong now; he needed to be.

Then why was his goddamn leg shaking like a sledgehammer?

**********

"Oh. That's what this is about," Blair said, picking up her fork and picking at her food, tossing a few ugly-looking pieces of asparagus off to the side. She stared blankly at her actions and tried desperately to ignore Chuck's eyes burning into her.

"Blair, I just-" he looked out the window of the restaurant, and it seemed he was having trouble with his words. "I want to be with you," he murmured. "Away from this mess of a city, though I know we both love it dearly."

She looked up at him and felt a smile stretch across her lips. "When do we leave?" she asked, toying with her fork and leaving the food untouched. She lay it down again and looked back up into Chuck's maple eyes – they always turned that seductive color when he was excited about something, or when he loved someone, she had realized not too long ago.

"Tomorrow at eight." His voice was cautious and she realized why as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

"Eight in the morning?!" she checked her watch nervously. "Chuck! That leaves me...six hours to pack and three to sleep! How dare you? You know how I plan, Bass," she said icily, glaring at him with furious eyes.

"Blair, relax. We're staying for the weekend, not a month. It's just a short trip to get away for a bit. Unless you'd rather I cancel and get us a flight for next month, because that was the only other time available."

"By available you mean..." Blair stopped without finishing her sentence and looked up at him hopefully.

"Well, I wouldn't make you fly commercial would I? Those flight attendants-"

"Bass," she said in a warning tone.

**********

"-Just can't seem to figure out how to fluff a pillow properly." He smiled at her, knowing that she had expected a comment from him on the physique of the stewardesses on commercial airlines.

"We wouldn't want your neck to get pulled, what with all the strenuous activity you'll be taking part in while there," she said in fake innocence, batting her long lashes at him. His smile morphed into a smirk, and his eyes darkened as he felt something deep within him stir.

"You're not still hungry, are you?" he asked. After watching her for only a moment of two, he realized they were definitely on the same page.

**********

"I mean, we could always have dessert at home..." his voice was milky, making her feel flustered and seventeen again – wait, that had only been a year ago. Why did it seem like such a long time had passed?

"And I could always pack bright and early in the morning," Blair replied smoothly, falling right in with their usual dinner date routine.

"I'll get the check and meet you in the limo," Chuck said softly, his voice already husky with desire.

**********

He woke up to an Blair-shaped depression under his arm in bed, and the sound of heavy objects being thrown against walls not far away. Chuck looked to his closet and saw that the light was on. One whip of his head to the right so he could look at his window and he was able to tell that it was still dark.

So much for bright and early, he thought grumpily. Sometimes men needed their own beauty sleep as well. Alright, maybe just Chuck Bass, but he was Chuck Bass – the name and everything it carried with it implied beauty sleep.

"Blair?" he called. Another clop as something else hit the wall in his closet. He cautiously tip-toed to the opening, the noises getting louder with each step he took closer. Once Chuck was there, he leaned against the door-frame and stared at Blair, amused to say the least.

"I am such an idiot!" she said in a huff of breath as she threw a skirt off into a pile. "Why did I have to follow suit last night?! And why in the hell did you suggest round four – when you obviously knew I acquiesce – if I had told you that I needed to pack in the morning?" Blair's voice was strained and panicky and all Chuck could do was smile at a new memory that was in his mind from last night.

"If I remember correctly, Blair, it was you who took round four into a fifth," Chuck murmured, walking closer to her, and laying his hands on her shoulders. He massaged them, noting how very tense they were. He felt a great sense of accomplishment when she relaxed beneath him.

"What time is it?" she asked, eyes closed and trying to enjoy this for all it was worth. Chuck massaging her was unbearably enticing, but so relaxing that she almost couldn't think of sex. Almost. She silently chided herself and listened to the rustling sound of his clothing as he sat down behind her.

"Six thirty," he replied, and they both knew this wouldn't last much longer.

"I should go shower."

"Care for a cleaning buddy?" he questioned, breath hot against her shoulder as he leaned forward and his lips replaced his hands in a trail down her arms. She rose, though she wanted nothing more to lean back a little and...

"No. I won't be too long," she said with a smile.

**********

An hour and a half later, they sat on the Bass Inc. plane, prompt and prepared. Chuck's arm was around Blair's back and she had leaned into him. They looked like two sickeningly sweet lovebirds who has been together forever. To passersby they didn't seem like people who had only officially gotten together in the past week. That was the beauty of knowing one another so well; they were able to just jump into all the cutesy stuff at the pace that Chuck and Blair usually did.

**********

Three hours later, conversation had ensued along with their wonderful witty banter. Suddenly, though, things turned a little more serious.

"I guess what I'm saying, Bass, is that in the future, when we're -" she stopped abruptly, hoping he wouldn't notice the slip.

"When you say we...you mean," he gestured to nothing in particular in the air, grasping something invisible with the tip of his hand – a movement he had come to perfect oh-so-well in the many years of his life.

Screw it. She would be honest with him because she really didn't have a hell of a lot left. "Yes, Chuck. I was talking about us. Because I've pictured forever with you before. Stupidly and childishly, I have pictured being Mrs. Chuck Bass and little Chuck Jr.'s running around our amazing home," she admitted quietly.

**********

He wasn't sure what to say to that. He hadn't been raised to respond to things like that properly. It was always awkward. After enough silence, Blair spoke again, lifting herself from his arms and looking out the window.

"It's fine," she said, feigning distraction. "You don't have to say anything. It was stupid anyways." He pulled her backwards, though he felt her futile resistance.

"Blair," he began. "I have too. With little mini-Blair's." He pulled her chin so she would look up at his smirking face. She did and smiled as he cradled her head.

"Well, good. It would be nice," she said quietly.

"Yes, it would," he murmured in response. "And we're here. Bags stay on the plane; cover your eyes."

**********

His abrupt orders made her weary of what exactly they were doing here and precisely why they were here as well. But Blair complied and left her precious Louis Vuitton luggage to rest in the hands of the private plane's pilot while they de-boarded.

His hands around her eyes made her smile as she felt grass beneath her feet and smelled pine in the air. It was a place with trees. And grass. Oh, that narrowed it down a lot. He obviously wouldn't give her clues – he was Chuck – so she didn't even bother with that.

"Well, based on the conversation we just had, I have a hunch that you'll like this," Chuck said, a grin evident in his tone of voice. He finally took his hands away from her face and moved to stand next to her, his hand finding the small of her back comfortably and naturally.

"You bought us a house in France!" Blair exclaimed, in complete awe.

"Rented, actually. Even I am not that loaded," Chuck replied, squeezing her back a little with his rough hand

"You…you…Chuck!" she squealed and then literally jumped into his arms. Peppering his face and neck with kisses, she whispered several 'thank you's' that preceded each touch of her lips. "I can't believe that you did something like this." Her voice was quiet and almost pensive.

"Well, I figure we should be able to escape whenever we want to, Waldorf. Just a place to…get away from the world, and escape into our own. And to prepare us...for that future that we both imagine" his voice had gone so soft he wasn't sure he could hear it and his eyes drifted over to her misty ones. She smiled and a happy tear slid down her cheek.

She swiped at it with her hand and looked back to the house, leaning into Chuck. She felt his lips press into the top of her head.

"You're happy, aren't you Blair?" Leave it to Chuck to be insecure about giving Blair a house. The size wasn't modest either; it was nearly a mansion.

She turned to look him in the eyes, grabbing the tops of his arms and holding them tightly as she spoke. "Yes, Chuck, I am very happy. I have never been happier."

"Good," he said smugly, normalcy returning to his demeanor and replacing the insecurities. He pulled her with him closer to the house. When they had reached the extravagant and large entrance of the house, they both paused. Even Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf could appreciate the money that this place cost, the history it must have had.

And the future it would experience with them in it.

Author's Note: Finally done! I have been working on this for two hours straight, and I am deeply sorry for the lateness [in the day] of this post.If you guys think this ending totally sucks, then just let me know. I would be MORE THAN happy to re-write it and get it up to the standards you think are best by tomorrow. It's over, though, and I'm almost shedding a tear as I write this. I must be pretty sentimental for just finishing off a one-week story and feeling sad about it, hah. I hope everyone enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it – though sometimes the fluff may have been harder than I'd have liked ;).