A/N So I've really, really been struggling to come up with the right ending. I'd planned on finishing the fic this chapter, but a) I've enjoyed writing this so much so that I don't really want to stop and b) while this is an ending of sorts, I don't want to rush into a perfect conclusion. So I'm considering writing a sequel - and was wondering if people would read it if I did?
And thank you so much for all of your feedback :)
"Eleanor's asking about a wedding again."
The evening was cool and clear, and the sun was on the verge of setting against the skyline, blending the buildings into a towering haze. The graveyard, nestled behind the back of the cathedral, was slanted in shadow. And almost empty, save one figure. A young man with dark hair, expensively dressed, coat buttoned up against the autumn breeze.
He was leaning, quite comfortably, next to a white headstone that read Nate Archibald. Beloved son, husband, and best friend. The grave was in good condition; white marble clean, fresh flowers neatly arranged and well-lit.
Chuck's voice was low, almost inaudible - not that there was anyone there to hear it. Save the old caretaker, who was used to seeing him anyway.
"She keeps dropping hints." Chuck rolled his eyes a little. "She claims a year is more than enough time."
Had someone told him more than year ago that he'd be one of those fools sitting talking to an empty gravestone, he would have laughed. He'd started going just to check the grave was tended - not that he needed to, since Blair was obsessive enough about that sort of thing. He supposed really he just wanted to see his best friend. And he liked it; liked the quiet and the privacy.
There was something exclusive and non-judgmental about the graveyard that gave him a sort of peace.
It wasn't like Nate had really offered good advice or a insightful point of view even when alive; Chuck hadn't needed him to. They'd used to spend hazy afternoons in cigar smoke, getting high and content in each other's company, talking about everything and nothing.
So it felt strangely normal, doing it now. A place to clear his head, like he'd always done with Nate before.
"I have to say that she's shown remarkable restraint," he reflected. "Bart too. It's almost like they're trying to be understanding." His lip curled a little. "Hard though that may be to believe. So," he mused, "I suppose I should be grateful they've waited at all."
He glanced up at the sky, eyes half closed as he took count of the clouds streaked orange. "She's driving Blair mad. Obviously." The shadows lengthened as the sun sank lower in the sky. "I know she's fine." He was talking about Blair now - and he did know, because he could tell at just a glance when there was something wrong with her. And there wasn't; she was more at peace than she'd been in a long time. "She just doesn't believe it yet." She was better, but she wasn't a hundred percent. He sighed drily. "Typical Waldorf."
The silence stretched out, deep and comfortable. There was the soothing rush of traffic somewhere in the distance, but Chuck was so accustomed to it that he didn't even hear it any more.
War had broken out officially, though it had yet to even touch most of their lives. America was maintaining a position of neutrality; the most that reached them were distant stories of trench warfare and the chaos that had descended on Europe. Most Upper East Siders were content to carry on in their decadent ways, safely separated by the vast expanse of ocean.
Not the businessmen, though; as ever, Bart Bass was three steps ahead. The impacts on trade were starting to grow noticeable, and Bass Industries had felt them already.
The venture in England had turned into an unmitigated disaster the moment Austria-Hungary's archduke was assassinated; the complicated series of alliances suddenly found England plunged into war before even Bart had anticipated, and defending a country left little room for the hospitality industry.
He'd been home by spring. And, with him, Carter Baizen. The contract held no standing when there wasn't even a business left in London. Nonetheless, Bart's next decision was still a sore point.
He'd informed Chuck he was keeping Baizen on. Despite everything, he'd worked hard in London. Baizen was actually good. The fact that Bart had given him the lowest of clerical jobs, and was making him work up from the bottom - no contract, this time; Baizen would have to continue to prove himself - was of little comfort.
They still had to work in the same company.
The competition had stopped it being about just trying to prove himself to his father. Chuck never worked harder than when he had a rival. If he hadn't known any better, he would've wondered if that was partially the reason Bart had kept Baizen on. (No, surely not).
In any case - the disaster in England had turned out surprisingly well for Chuck. The moment he'd got back to New York - with Bart still safely in London - he'd set about developing Bass Industries' venture into the entertainment industry. Starting with the property Nate had left him. He finally had something that was his. Bart's reaction had been silence when he'd eventually returned.
Yes, Chuck had gone behind his back.
But it was worth it, and he had the numbers to prove it. He'd handed Bart the folder and waited. Waited for the irritation; the disappointment, despite what the numbers showed.
Bart had read through the numbers, carefully, and then glanced at his son.
He'd nodded. "Well done."
It had taken Chuck a moment for the words to sink in; his stance was already tensed, already ready to defend himself. And then all he could do was stare like an idiot. Bart had eventually waved him along - "Don't you have a night club to look after? I expect the same quality of results."
Chuck was throwing a party there tonight in honour of Bart's fiftieth birthday. One of the parties of the year, of course. Luckily with Blair's touch and Blair's guest list to ensure class - night club or not.
Blair had managed to keep herself almost as insanely busy, if not more so. Someone other than Chuck Bass might have lost count of the number of organizations and events she'd commanded; the number of foundations she'd climbed in almost a year. She was taking her dictatorship over the women of the Upper East Side very seriously.
And Chuck and Blair...were keeping their hands off each other. Willpower had never been something either lacked in. But maybe there was a reason they were tackling their work with quite so much energy. Too much energy.
An illicit affair would have taken serious concentration (not that they hadn't accomplished it before) - so in some ways, it was a relief when they were together in public and couldn't do anything anyway. It was those fleeting moments alone; when they plotted, when their plans fell into place, when she arrived in a gorgeous dress, dances at parties - he wasn't really sure how he'd ever managed to keep his hands off her before.
He'd promised her he would wait, and he wasn't about to let her down. Not again. So he'd kept careful watch as she pieced her life back together, over every step, helping whenever he could. (Whenever she wouldn't find out, since she'd definitely refuse it). Though he had a feeling she knew anyway.
And their parents had been patient. For Bart Bass and Eleanor Waldorf.
Which wasn't to say it had been easy. Just because he'd been friends with Blair practically his whole life - probably loved her that long, too, if he was being honest - didn't mean he could just be her friend. Ever. He could be her ally; her scheming partner and critic and co-conspirator. He could pick her up and hold her or shake her in moments of weakness. He could listen to her plans and entrust her with his - and there was no one else in the world that knew how to drive him as crazy as she did.
At the moment, they weren't speaking. Or rather she wasn't speaking to him. It wasn't an openly hostile war - more one where she fumed and he refused to back down.
Lord Marcus was from England, and had come to America to avoid the war. And, apparently, to enjoy American women. Chuck had promised he would wait - and that didn't mean standing by and watching as fools from England made their suit for her. Unfortunately she'd found out about his various schemes to stop said fool - as only Blair could - and was, apparently, enraged.
There had been accusations of him not trusting her, followed by further fury when he didn't show a scrap of remorse. But he wasn't sorry, because when it came to Blair Waldorf, he wasn't risking anything getting in their way again. And he had ammunition - when that French girl Eva had made a play for him, only a few months ago, Blair had got her deported. Her response had been that she was only looking out for him, since the girl was clearly after his money.
Chuck had been amused at the time - but now it was just double standards.
Anyway, she would have to talk to him tonight. Though he suspected she was planning on torturing him more; she was probably plotting her outfit right now.
He got to his feet, brushing down his suit. (He'd need just as much time to make sure he was up to her standards. Nothing short of perfection). His eyes lingered one final time on the white headstone, mouth curling slightly as he murmured, "See you soon, Archibald."
He nodded briefly at the caretaker as he left.
It was as he reached the gates of the graveyard that he saw the figure approaching. Two figures, in fact; though one was pint sized and being carried by the other. It was the halo of golden hair - messy and uncovered - that drew his attention. The height, the lopsided grace. And the fact that she was clearly in her own world; she nearly hurried straight past him and into the cemetery, with nary a single glance in his direction.
His voice stopped her.
"Serena."
She whirled round in confusion, eyes widening and grip tightening on the child - and then skidded to a halt as she finally saw him, recognised him. Froze.
"Chuck. What...what are you doing here?"
He arched an eyebrow. He highly doubted Serena had any relatives buried next to the cathedral. "The same thing as you, I should think," he answered drily.
She faltered. "I thought...coming so late, there wouldn't be anyone here."
He rolled his eyes. That was the same reason he came at this time. Appraised her in silence. "So, you've decided to return to Manhattan?"
She chewed on her lip as she shifted the little girl to her other hip. "Not exactly. My mother...well, she invited me. For a party. Apparently she's got a new man."
"So you've mended the rift?"
Most of Manhattan knew that Lily van der Woodsen hadn't spoken to her daughter since she'd left for that 'women's institute' in Maine. From the glimpses he'd seen of Lily, it was clearly a Rhodes trait that she'd handed down to her daughter - the ability to cut off all communication. Drift away.
Serena's mouth twisted a little. "Let's just say we're on the way." She looked him over, finally breaking from her own bubble. "So...how are you?"
"Fine," he responded wryly. He knew what she really wanted to ask. But he wasn't about to pander to her. She'd have to approach it herself. "And how's Brooklyn?"
She paused. "It's...well, it's great."
"It's not Manhattan," he stated bluntly.
"No," she admitted, almost sheepish. "But...so, have you...settled down?" She looked slightly doubtful as she asked it. Who would ever think Chuck Bass could settle down?
"Why, have you?"
It had used to be what tied them together as Nate and Blair settled for their (apparently) inescapable future together; Serena, twirling on tables as she proclaimed no man would ever have her, both of them agreeing in drunken corners that marriage was ridiculous.
Her face softened slightly. "I'm married."
"To Humphrey?"
She jumped, a little - "How did you - ?"
"We met on the Olympic. On the way to England."
She stared, and he regarded her back quietly. So Humphrey hadn't told her.
"He was traveling with Georgina."
Serena's face went white, and her grasp round the child actually slipped; Chuck grabbed the little girl before she fell. He looked down at her, holding her slightly awkwardly - the golden hair, those blue eyes - and was surprised to realise that he felt no pain. Just sadness, because she looked so much like his best friend. She opened her mouth and started to wail, disturbed - and Serena collected herself.
She shook a little, swallowing, and took her daughter back. The girl's hand was still wrapped around Chuck's finger, though, as she continued to cry. Chuck was slightly taken aback by the tightness of the little thing's hold, still unused to infants as Serena jiggled her up and down, trying to calm her.
"It's all right, baby, mama's here." She kept rocking till the wails stopped, and Chuck finally, gently managed to prise his finger away.
Once she was quiet, Serena went back to staring at him. "What?" Her voice stuck a little. "Georgina Sparks?"
"Who else?" He pursed his lips, checking her hold was firm around the girl this time. "I know everything," he told her flatly; and, before she could interrupt, "Georgina's dead."
Serena's mouth went slack.
"She can't do anything," Chuck stressed. He watched her. "You're safe."
Realisation finally dawned and Serena closed her eyes, tight, clutching her daughter as she pressed her face into the little girl's curls. Chuck watched, seemingly impassive. Serena's shoulders were actually shaking with relief. She finally looked up. "It's really over?" she whispered.
Chuck nodded. "It's over." He glanced towards the graveyard; the sun had already set, and the caretaker would be locking up soon. "You've probably only got a few minutes," he said pointedly.
Serena remembered herself. "Thank you." But she paused, dithering. "Chuck." She brought herself to look at him, teeth frantic on her lip. Eyes glistening, shadowed. "Is Blair...?"
Chuck was silent for a moment. "She misses you," he said at last.
Serena swallowed, giving a faint nod.
Chuck dipped his head briefly back, and then they went their separate ways.
Blair stood in the centre of the room, flanked by the girls she liked to call her minions. She had spent an hour going through her dresses till she'd decided on the perfect one. It was a deep violet colour; silk skirts, a narrow waist and tight bodice, rucked sleeves. She'd accessorized with long black gloves, heeled court shoes and a black pearl necklace. Her makeup was flawless, her hair elegantly curled. She'd been torn - did she deliberately cover up, just to torment him; or show as much skin as she dared?
But too much skin had never been Blair Waldorf's style. So she'd settled on glimpses, since that would really get to him.
She was apparently listening intently to the women surrounding her, but in truth, there was a sort of restlessness coursing through her. She couldn't quite put her finger on it - she should have been satisfied, to finally have society eating out of the palm of her hand. The room was packed, and it was still empty. Because the stupid Basstard was late.
And probably deliberately late, too. Just so he could make an entrance.
She glanced up as Marcus approached, and her lips curled into a victorious smile. He'd been a last minute addition to the guest list, following her row with Chuck. The nerve of it - suggesting that she couldn't take care of herself? That she'd allow herself to be swept away by a - frankly, dull - Englishman? Who did Chuck think he was dealing with?
Well, she'd show him. Remind him.
"Marcus," she smiled sweetly, allowing him to kiss her hand. His lips were disappointingly cold. "I'm so glad you could come."
His grin back was rather bland as he offered to get her a drink, and she let him.
Where was Chuck?
"Blair, this party is divine!" Blair looked up to find herself face to face with Ingrid Haversham - chairwoman of the Colony Club. She felt a flicker of excitement, temporarily distracted. The Colony Club was one of the most prestigious foundations, and number one on her list of entering. And Ingrid was here, at the party she'd organised.
That was surely a good sign.
"Thank you," Blair beamed back. And, remembering to reign her excitement in, "I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the evening."
The party was divine; the champagne flowing freely, the room so gorgeously decorated it was barely recognizable as a night club, and the guests each more beautifully dressed than the next. So Blair pushed aside the nagging sense of dissatisfaction.
Marcus came back then, drink in hand. And Blair knew how impressive it looked to have a lord waiting on her. It couldn't have gone more perfectly if she'd planned it; Ingrid's eyes had practically popped out. Marcus was...the perfect escort. The perfect gentleman.
Where was Chuck?
"Blair, let me introduce you to my husband. This is Alex."
Blair smiled again and shook the man's hand. She could tell at a glance that he was old money. Girth already starting to expand with middle age, hair thinning, top and tails. Dull eyes. Cold handshake. Ugh.
His kiss on his wife's cheek was brief and perfunctory, her hand barely brushing him, and devoid of any warmth. He had disappeared within a few moments without even a backwards glance.
Ingrid smiled with vague fondness. "Off for a cigar, I'm sure. Men!"
The women surrounding them tittered and nodded in empathy. Understanding. Blair forced a smile. She'd seen couples like them a thousand times before, and it had never really occurred to her. All she'd really cared about was how impressive they looked together, the suitability of the match - but what must it be like? Living all your life with a man who barely looked at you? Did they even sleep together?
There was something eerily familiar about the way Alex had kissed Ingrid. The way he'd left. What was it?
"Blair."
She blinked as she realised Marcus had been talking to her. Since when was Blair Waldorf unfocused? She snapped to attention instantly, flashing him the proper smile.
"Are you all right?" he chuckled.
"Perfect," she smiled back. Perfect.
When she got her hands on that Bass-
"Would you mind if I joined Alex for a cigar?"
Yes, actually. Not that she particularly wanted to talk to him; but still. Blair Waldorf expected undivided attention. How did he not realise this?
"Of course not," she assured him.
"I'll hurry straight back," he promised.
Please don't.
"I look forward to it." Her smile didn't even falter.
He moved off, and that was when it struck her. The blond head disappearing. How many times had she watched Nate kiss her cheek, charming, and then slip out of her company?
And the realisation, for some reason, chilled her to the bone.
"Charles."
Bart appeared just as Chuck was fixing his purple bow tie. He turned immediately, already standing straighter.
"Father." He grinned. "Are you ready for the festivities?"
Bart rolled his eyes a little, though his expression wasn't too serious. "As I'll ever be, I suppose." His eyes flickered over his son and he gave a brief nod, almost to himself. "I'm proud of you, Charles."
Chuck paused. He didn't think he'd ever get used to hearing those words from his father. Or be able to contain the sudden glow spreading from inside him. And this praise was especially unexpected - he and Bart had both been so busy, their paths had barely crossed for the past few months.
He cleared his throat. "Thank you, sir."
Bart nodded again, smoothing down his tie. "I have something for you," he announced. With a brief glance at his son, he pulled out a small velvet box. Chuck stilled. Bart opened it, briskly; and lying inside, a collection of dazzling diamonds sparkled on a single ring.
Chuck could only stare. "Is that...?" he managed at last. He looked up at his father. "Mother's engagement ring?"
Bart handed it to him. "Yes." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you know what to do with it."
Chuck gazed down at it. He shook his head, slowly. "Thank you, father." He was still holding it as his eyes met his Bart's. "But I don't want it."
Bart stiffened instantly. "What?" His voice was sharp.
Chuck closed the box, carefully. "I...already have a ring," he admitted. He'd bought it because his first thought upon seeing it was Blair. It was a single diamond; large, elegant, and classic. His mother's ring was certainly beautiful. But it wasn't really Blair. And he wanted to give her something that he'd bought himself; that he'd bought for her and her alone. Something that was theirs.
(Chuck and Blair; not the trade of a van der Bilt legacy for a Bass one).
Bart lifted his brow again. He regarded his son, mouth pressed. "So you are planning on proposing?"
Chuck's own mouth twitched slightly. "Yes."
Of course he was. But when was up to Blair. It wasn't like Chuck to be patient; but for Blair, he would wait as long as it took.
He glanced at his mother's ring again. "Father," he said quietly. "I know how much this ring means to you. But it's yours." He held it out to Bart. "You should keep it."
Had Chuck not known better, he would've sworn he saw a flash of - relief? guilt? gratitude? - on his father's face. But then the usual impassive mask slid back into place as Bart took the ring back.
He nodded, stiffly. "Very well."
Chuck studied him almost apprehensively, wondering if he was annoyed.
"I appreciate the thought," Bart stated rigidly. "Though you should know that I don't need a piece of jewelry to remember your mother." (Still, his hand had closed tightly over the box). He leveled a final look at his son. Mouth curved, just the smallest bit. "Don't wait too long."
And with that, he was gone.
"So, Blair, do you enjoy polo?"
Polo?
"Oh, I love it."
The only reason she went to a polo match was the outfits. What was so fascinating about a group of smelly horses and their sweaty jockeys?
But Marcus had already started on a series of hilarious polo match anecdotes. She could feel herself smiling and nodding just like she'd done when Nate had started on his football stories. She didn't care about sports.
She'd played lacrosse at school - but only because it was expected for perfect grades. And she'd enjoyed wielding the power of the stick. But this? How hard did she have to grit her teeth?
"...And then he fell right off his horse!"
She was working so hard on forcing a laugh that she noticed the change in the room's tension too late.
She felt her body prickle, suddenly; and then an arm wrapped smoothly around her waist, hot even through the fabric of their clothes, brushing the small of her back, and a voice that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up murmured into her ear, "Miss me?"
She went rigid even as she was melting into that hold, body seeking the heat of his. Something somewhere in the back of her mind pointed out that this hadn't been the plan; she was meant to be torturing him, not the other way around. But she'd sort of forgotten that already.
He chuckled, low, against her neck; and before she could protest he was smiling at their company, with a drawl of, "Chuck Bass." He didn't loosen his hold around her even as he was shaking their hands.
He was also quite deliberately ignorant of Marcus' ruffled feathers. He continued laying on the charm, and she could feel his smirk; his amusement.
Finally, she'd had enough. Her fingers tightened, unseen, on the side of his jacket as she hissed under her breath, "I need to talk to you."
Another faint grin as he excused himself, swiftly - "I'm sorry, I'll have to borrow Blair for a moment to talk about refreshments," - and then whisked her away, hand never leaving the small of her back.
He went to stop once they were out of earshot, but she kept going; marched straight out of the room and behind a pillar, where they were completely hidden from sight. He followed, amusement increasing the further away they got.
It was when they came to a stop that she whirled on him, striking him on the chest. Hard.
"Ow." He winced. That, he hadn't been expecting.
She glared at him. "You're late."
He attempted a smirk back. "And you...are ravishing." He said it slowly and deliberately as his dark gaze raked over her body, grazing the bare skin of her collarbone and resting on the fierceness of her eyes. He did love her.
She should have been pleased that her dress had the desired effect, but all she could feel was those shivers. Sheer longing. His eyes had driven all thoughts of victory out of her head, and she found herself moving closer.
Her hands suddenly slid to the front of his jacket, taking hold as she pushed him back against the wall. Because God, she'd missed him.
For once, she'd actually displaced him - he flattened against the wall, staring at her as his hands curved automatically around her waist. Studying her.
"Blair?"
Her fingers gripped his clothes a little tighter, sliding up to the collar of his shirt as she lifted her head and pressed her lips against his.
"I need you," she whispered into his mouth.
His hold tightened, and she kissed him more urgently.
"I need you," she begged. "To make me feel alive." She kissed him again, and again; "I missed you."
She gazed up to him, brown eyes shining in the semi darkness. Shining with caught breath; half pleading, half questioning that he'd push her away and ask what the hell was going on. It only took him a glance to read her, and then his mouth on hers put a swift stop to that doubt. He didn't push her away; he pulled her closer, exactly what she wanted, so that she could feel his body burning hers, his mouth tracing a scorching path that sang away the cold blandness of the evening, quenched the ache inside her.
He led the way into the back room - she was too busy kissing him, clinging to him, to even really notice where they were going. She'd missed his mouth and his taste and scent -
Chuck at least had the sense to lock the door behind them, propelling her onto the couch. His hands had already fisted on the skirts of her dress, pushing it up, gripping her waist as his other hand buried in her hair. She dropped back onto the cushions, her own hands ripping at his shirt. But then she pulled at his shoulders, wriggling herself round so that she was straddling him. His hands caught the backs of her thighs, pulling her closer towards the hardness of his trousers.
He finally broke for the briefest breath, leaving them both panting as her fingers raked through his hair.
"What happened to waiting?" he gasped. It had meant to sound slightly wry, but he couldn't even pretend to feign detachment.
"We've waited long enough," her answer, even breathy, was adamant.
Her lips attacked his again, fingers burrowing for the buttons of his clothes. She needed him, and she needed him now. She didn't even know how she'd waited this long. (Neither did he).
Eleanor kissed Bart on the cheek to wish him a happy birthday. Even she had to admit, her daughter had done a good job with the party. Especially considering neither child had used their parents' help for any of it.
"Have you seen Charles?" Bart asked her, scanning the room.
Eleanor glanced round. "He's probably with Blair in the back room, plotting their next strategy." Chuck had - eventually - proven his trustworthiness. Though if they were gone any longer, she'd be sure to go and find them. For propriety's sake. She was fairly confident Blair wouldn't risk staying away from her own party for too long anyway. Not when she could see Ingrid Haversham waiting on the other side of the room.
Bart frowned. "Well, he'd better be along soon."
Eleanor's eyebrows arched. "Ah, of course. Your mystery woman. Am I to understand we'll finally get to meet her?"
"Actually," Bart sighed, "She's here already. And I believe you already know her."
Eleanor followed his gaze to see that two blonde women had just entered the room. A mother and daughter that she did indeed know already. Her eyes widened slightly, turning back to Bart.
The elder of the two women arrived first, presenting her hand to Bart. He cleared his throat.
"Eleanor, may I present Lily van der Woodsen. My fiancee."
Lily gave a slight laugh, embracing her. "I don't think you need to introduce me to Eleanor, Bart."
Eleanor chuckled as she glanced between the two of them. "Well, the both of you certainly kept that quiet." She studied them questioningly, waiting for the explanation.
They were interrupted by a younger voice.
"You're engaged?"
Their attention was drawn to the other blonde; a girl Eleanor hadn't seen in a very long time. "Serena," she smiled. "You're back." She held her arms out. "It's lovely to see you again, dear."
She'd always had a soft spot for her daughter's best friend.
Serena, however, was busy glaring at her mother. "You're engaged?" she repeated. "To Bart Bass? When were you going to tell me this?"
Lily rolled her eyes a little. "Well, Serena, it's a fairly recent development. We haven't told anyone yet." She sighed. "And it's not exactly like you've been around to find out."
Sensing that Serena was about to answer back - and that the outbreak of a full-on van der Woodsen argument was just around the corner - Eleanor interjected. "Serena," she smiled. "I must go and get Blair. I'm sure she's dying to see you!"
That knocked the wind straight out of Serena's sails, but Eleanor was already striding away. Hopefully Blair would keep Serena away from her mother for the rest of the night.
The door to the back room was locked, and she tapped on the panels impatiently.
"Blair!" she called in. "Blair, it's Serena!"
"I love you," Chuck whispered into her, eyes locking with hers as his hands curled around her legs. She stilled for a moment, entire face softening as she gazed back down at him.
"I love you too," she said, quietly, smiling. Her fingers were slightly gentler now as she threaded them through the tufts of his hair. Her eyes lowered for a moment. "Thank you for waiting," she whispered.
Chuck grinned faintly, up into his kiss. "I told you I would." He brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face as she leaned over him. "As long as it takes," he promised into her collar bone.
"So you don't want to do this?" she teased.
He grabbed her instantly, pulling her back down. "No no. No going back on your word. You said we were finished waiting for this."
She laughed a little, the sound muffled as he kissed her soundly again.
She lifted herself away once more. "What if I'm finished waiting for everything else?" she asked. They stared at each other. Her fingers slid down, into the pocket of his trousers, wrapping around a small box. She pulled it out, lifting a brow. Half holding her breath. "Well?"
He was having difficulty breathing himself now. He searched her face. "Do you mean it?" His voice was low, raw.
"Are you asking?" she smirked. But her eyes were serious.
His hands slipped up her waist, curling around the bare skin as he held her, gazing up at her.
"Blair."
He flipped open the box, and she watched in silence. Tucked behind the strands of hair that had fallen over her face, waiting.
"Will you-"
"Yes." She interrupted him with a shower of kisses, arms wrapping tight around his neck.
And he could've sworn his veins sang with elation; with sheer, giddy joy even as he scoffed, protesting - "Waldorf, will you let me-"
"Yes," she repeated, again and again, as she kissed him. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you," she whispered. "I don't want to wait any more. I just want you."
His hands buried in her hair once more as he pulled her to him. "Good," he muttered into her lips, because his voice was too choked to say anything else, and he'd die rather than admit it. Which she knew.
His fingers sought hers, sliding the ring on; and they both admired it in silence for a moment.
Blair's eyes finally slid to his. "Now," she murmured, easing her body back onto his. "Where were we...?"
He groaned in appreciation, tugging her closer. It had been too long. He sat up, reaching for her as her fingers sought his scalp again. Finally, finally -
"Blair!"
They both stilled at the sound of Eleanor's voice. The knocking. Chuck was more than ready to ignore it -
"Blair, it's Serena!"
Blair's head shot up at that. Chuck had to bite back a moan at the loss of contact.
"Serena?" she repeated, almost stupidly.
"Serena's in Brooklyn," Chuck mumbled, conveniently forgetting that he'd seen her in Manhattan only that day. Serena was the last thing on his mind when Blair was on top of him. He went to kiss her again, but she pulled back.
"No." She stared at him, and it was agony watching the haze of lust leave her eyes - "My mother just said she's here."
Chuck gave up trying to kiss her, suppressing a sigh of sheer frustration as he finally focused on what she was saying. There was going to be no sex.
She was already getting up, re-adjusting her dress. Trying not to scowl too hard, he sorted his owns shirt. Trust Serena to ruin everything. Blair's shoulders had already tensed, fingers seeking to smooth out her hair.
"What's she doing here?"
"Apparently her mother has a new man," Chuck recalled; and then Blair rounded on him.
"What?" she hissed. "You knew she was back?" She advanced, eyes flashing dangerously. "You knew, and you didn't tell me?"
Chuck grabbed her wrists to calm her. She was getting more and more wound up - and only Blair Waldorf could go from that happy to that insane in a matter of seconds.
"I only saw her this evening," he stressed. Raised his eyebrows. "You didn't give me a lot of time to tell you."
She accepted that, calming down a little. But only a little.
"I can't believe she's back." She started muttering to herself, turning away from him to pull on her gloves, slip her feet into her shoes. "And I know what you're thinking, Bass. I know you think this is going to make me lose it, but it won't. I'm fine. I'm just surprised." The pitch in her voice was gradually rising. "I can't believe she's back. I can't believe she's back, and I haven't - she hasn't-"
Chuck caught her again, turning her round to face him. "Blair," he said, warning. She stared up at him, eyes wide, shaking a little with her outburst. "You're Blair Waldorf." Couldn't resist the faintest of smirks. "Soon to be Bass." Her own face relaxed into a faint smile, though her eyes were still anxious. "We can handle this."
And, slicking back his hair one final time, he steered her out of the room.
All members of Bass Industries were invited to Bart's party, so not even Chuck could keep Carter off the guest list. Though it wasn't for wont of trying. Carter had arrived fashionably late (a party hosted by two people that hated him wasn't particularly enjoyable, even for him) to find the establishment in full swing. He was already bored, prowling through the masses to find an empty face he might enjoy the night with.
It was funny, considering he was actively making for blondes, that it took him a moment to see her. Too many people in the way. And as soon as he did, there could be no mistake. He didn't need to look twice.
There was only one blonde that tall, that radiant, that...
"Serena."
He'd come to a complete stop, and hadn't even realised that there were two brunettes also making a beeline for her. He stayed where he was, watching. For now.
It was hard to tell whose shoulders were tighter; Blair's or Serena's.
"Blair," Serena managed at last, softly.
They stared at each other.
"Well," Eleanor interrupted. "Isn't this wonderful? I know Blair has missed you terribly, dear." She ushered the two girls together with a wave. "And I'm sure you've plenty to catch up on. Blair, Charles - I believe Serena needs a drink." She gestured pointedly to the bar, indicating that the three of them should leave.
Blair and Chuck exchanged a glance, while Serena could only stare, helpless.
"Go on, darling."
So, with great reluctance, they did as they were told; Chuck catching the small of Blair's back for silent support.
And once the children were out of the way, Eleanor went back to questioning Lily and Bart.
"Blair-" Serena started again, once the three of them were alone - but Chuck had just noticed his father on the other side of the room.
"What is Bart doing with your mother?" he cut in. Did his father have his arm around Lily?
Serena's face darkened over, temporarily sidetracked from her apology. "They're engaged."
Blair felt Chuck freeze next to her, and, instinctively, caught his jacket. She glanced up at him, over to Bart and Lily in shock.
"Engaged?" she repeated, faintly, for his sake. Bart and Lily? It wasn't quite such a surprise for Lily - but Bart? Getting married? But that meant that Bart would be Serena's stepfather. That Chuck would be Serena's...brother. For once, she was actually at a loss for words.
Chuck was equally silent.
"My mother decided to announce it tonight," Serena added, still glaring. "Without telling me."
"Typical Lily," Blair muttered; and the girls exchanged a wry glance, forgetting for just a moment. And once they realised they'd caught each other's eye they paused. Caught.
"Blair," Serena whispered. "I'm so sorry." Her long fingers clutched her shawl as she lowered her head. "What I did was...unforgivable."
Blair watched in silence. "True," she reflected. But her facade was getting dangerously close to slipping. Because it was Serena - more than her best friend, more than her sister - and she was here. "But I suppose I've done some fairly unforgivable things too." Her voice caught, a little; a tight mumble as she couldn't stop her eyes flickering to Chuck's.
Serena blinked. Her gaze followed Blair's, and she seemed to finally notice how close Chuck was standing; notice his hand on her waist and her fingers...
"You're engaged too?" she squealed suddenly, goggling at the diamond that finger. "You two are engaged?" Head spinning between the two; "Chuck and Blair? You two? Blair and Chuck?"
"All right, S," Blair said between ground teeth, "Keep it down-"
"We were planning on telling people ourselves," Chuck answered drily; and their eyes snuck back to each other again, just for a moment, with the faintest of quiet grins. "So if you'd mind not announcing it to the room just yet, it would be greatly appreciated."
"I'm sorry," Serena breathed. She lowered her voice accordingly. "It's just..."
"What?" Blair demanded, soft. She searched her best friend's eyes, waiting to see the judgement in them.
But Serena just shook her head, mystified. There was no judgement; still amazement and a little guilt. "I've missed a lot," she murmured instead. Gazed at Blair. "Too much."
Blair half closed her lashes. "So have I," she whispered.
She could see Serena's eyes brimming with tears, and there was a lump in her own throat. Slowly, silently, she moved towards her best friend. Gave her one final glance, before she buried herself in her arms. Stopping her from saying anything else. She felt Serena's surprise turn to relief as she hugged the smaller girl back, almost tentative at first and then just as fierce, arms wrapped around each other.
Serena breathed out, finally, shoulders slumping into Blair's curls.
"I missed you, B," she whispered into her, tears stinging her vision.
Blair clung back. "I missed you too."
Big Bad Bass Lands Double Wedding
Following the announcement yesterday (New York Times, Weddings) that Manhattan's biggest billionaire Bartholomew Bass will be marrying society beauty Lillian van der Woodsen, The Times can report exclusively that there is another Bass engagement to celebrate - that of Bart's son, Charles Bass, to the lovely Blair Waldorf. Charles - known to his friends as Chuck - is a long time family friend of Miss Waldorf, and according to some speculation, has been courting her for over a year. Miss Waldorf was formerly married to Nathaniel Archibald, whose brave attempt to rescue a child from a burning building led to his tragic death last October. Eleanor Waldorf, Blair's mother, is reportedly "delighted" with the match; stating, "Charles is exactly what my daughter needs...and it's about time. I couldn't be happier". Blair's father was unavailable for comment, since he currently resides in the Waldorf's Connecticut home, but Eleanor has confirmed that he is "equally pleased".
In a rare sign of public address, Bart deigned to comment that Charles is "extremely fortunate" to have secured Miss Waldorf, and that he hopes his son will continue to "prove himself worthy" of his future wife. It had been noted before this that the couple were close, with friends speculating that it was only a matter of time - but the young Bass, nonetheless, has kept the relationship almost as closely guarded as the elder Bass has his. It seems ambition and a ruthless business sense are not the only traits shared by father and son. (See pg. 22: Victor Victrola - Bass' Latest Venture Rakes in Millions). Both Bass Jnr. and Miss Waldorf have refused to comment, though they were spotted at the opera earlier this week holding hands, and, according to one source, made "a very handsome couple". Miss Waldorf is well known in Manhattan for her intelligence and beauty, and, as the recently elected - and youngest - chairwoman of the Girls' Foundation, one has to wonder at the force she and Mr. Bass will make now that they are united. The date of their wedding is unknown as of yet, though sources are certain it will not occur before Bart's. The idea of a shared wedding has been vehemently rejected.
Charles' engagement, meanwhile, is not the only cause of celebration - Lillian van der Woodsen revealed on Monday that her daughter, Serena, will be rejoining society with her husband Donald Humphrey. Serena's disappearance has been a cause of some speculation, and her return has certainly raised numerous heads; Lillian, however, has denied all rumours, stating simply that her daughter is "back where she belongs". Serena has purportedly spent the last few years in Brooklyn, where her husband is originally from. On an interesting side note, Mr. Humphrey will be joining his sister Jennifer on the Upper East Side - Jennifer is the wife of the diplomat Damien Dalgaard, and has only recently returned to America from England.
On behalf of the New York Times, we offer our congratulations to both Bass men, and wish them every happiness with their brides to be.
A/N Apologies again that you had to wait so long for this ending. And thank you so much to all of my amazing reviewers:
epicCHAIR, supernatural13, cj-the-greatest, flipped, QueenBee10, Izzie, ggloverxx19, cbcb, TriGemini, 88Mary88, Lala, Guardian Izz, BassKingdom, abelard, jsta, Krazy4Spike, Waldorf-Wannabe1812, Penelope, Ami, vivalachair, Thea, Koko, Tri utami putri, Lena Belle, CBBW3words8letters, HnM skinnys, cbcbb, louboutinlove, A Lover's Promise, plinnng, wrighthangal, GoodGirl793, delphin4ik, batgirl2992, libertine84, PacificRomance, Kassandra, D, Kate2008, Del, hannah, Mansah, QueenHoa, GaTiToDaRk, Cantik, Ami, Clara, hj, lovechair-hatedair, jiovanni, Alief, poppy72, geller516, bonafide11, Temp, bcbc, Curious Blonde, js, notoutforawalk, Sweet Darkling, cbforever, comewhatmay.x, sweetet89, MyMelo, vronica, ashabelle, rebekahwebster, chch, Dr. GG, BirkinBag.
Also to anyone who reviewed anonymously :)