"You fought for me all year, and I've come to fight for you. You said I always bet against you, but this time, I'm all in."

About half an hour had passed since Blair had sat down next to him, and Chuck still hadn't spoken a word to her. His emotions were all over the map, he was floored she had shown up here. He wasn't even curious about how or why his uncle had called her, he was too preoccupied with the fact that Blair was here. Sitting next to him. Fighting for him. It was as though the world was sending the message that he knew in his heart was true—they would never be over.

The croupier had had to ask for his bet two more times, before Chuck had been spurred into action. He had merely raised an eyebrow at Blair, before looking pointedly at her impressive stack of casino plaques. She had nodded her assent, and he had gestured that her plaques be placed with his chips. And then he had simply continued to play. Blair had scooted her seat closer to his and did not appear to be disturbed by his inability to speak. He had played over a dozen more hands, before his antsiness finally got the better of him and signaled to the dealer that he was done.

It felt too surreal sitting next to her. He could sense her calm, despite the way their last conversation had ended. He waited for a casino hostess to assist him with his large pile of chips. He noted with irony that Blair had served as a lucky charm, as he won all but two hands since she had sat down next to him. Blair waited patiently for him to sign for the chips, and when he pushed back his chair, she stood up with him.

Blair had come here to talk, and he wouldn't deny her that. Chuck offered her his arm, which she graciously took. He barely managed to suppress his physical reaction to the spark of electricity that permeated through the superfine wool of his tuxedo jacket. His fingers itched to cover her dainty hand on his elbow. They walked unhurriedly out of the casino and through the grand lobby of the hotel to reach the bank of elevators that would take them up to his suite. He noticed how some of the people milling about had stopped moving and were openly gawking at them, but Blair seemed unfazed by the attention.

When they stepped inside the elevator, she didn't release her gentle grasp of his arm. He used the mirrors that lined the walls to surreptitiously stare at her, cataloguing her features that he had missed gazing at. Blair looked fucking gorgeous, and he wished he could reach over and loosen the pins that swept her hair back, so her brown curls would cover the nape of her neck and her shoulders. Her porcelain skin was on display, tempting him to mark the landscape of smooth perfection with his teeth. The ding of the elevator doors sliding open couldn't have come at a better time.

Chuck led her all the way down to the end of the hall, where his suite was. Suddenly, he was relieved that his room had been comped and upgraded to a suite. His original room, where the bed had served as the focal point, would have been far too distracting. Chuck took his time withdrawing the keycard from his pocket, wondering if his lethargic pace was eating away at Blair's visage. He hated that he wasn't sure of her mood, it put him slightly on edge—a reminder that perhaps he didn't know her as well as he thought he had. It was childish, but he used his right hand to slide the key into the slot, making sure his arm grazed against her breast. Blair's intake of breath was so miniscule, that had he not been seeking it out, he would've missed it altogether. Good. He was only leveling the playing field. After all, his heart still hadn't slowed down to a normal pace from the moment he heard her voice, and there was a fluttering in his stomach that he refused to acknowledge.

Finally, he pushed open the door, holding it ajar as she entered the dimly lit living room of his suite. He flicked on the lights and dropped the keycard onto the end table. He leaned against the closed door, watching as Blair looked around the room. She paused for a fraction of a second, the first sign of uncertainty he'd detected, before taking a seat on the couch. Once she placed her small square purse on the coffee table, she folded her hands on her lap and waited.

Chuck retained his position by the door. Blair tilted her head and met his gaze. Time slowed, as he momentarily lost himself in her deep brown eyes that he loved so much. There was something about the way Blair looked at him that made him feel both invincible and terrified all at once. She gave him a small smile, a replica of the one she had given him at the blackjack table. His mind scrambled to figure out what her game plan was, because if it was as he suspected, and Blair was opting for no tactic, he was afraid he'd forgive her everything—just like that. And even though he could never hate her, the prideful part of him felt entitled to hang onto some of the anger and hurt that she had subjected him to for the past eight months.

He closed his eyes and recalled what it had felt like to wake up in the hospital after the accident, asking for Blair, only for her to never have materialized by his side. How he had been convinced that Serena, Nate and Lily were mistaken, that Blair couldn't still be engaged to Louis and couldn't possibly have a reason to go to Monaco to recover. Blair would want to mourn the loss of the baby with him, because the three of them were going to be a family.

"Chuck?" Blair said softly.

His lips formed a thin line, before he opened his eyes and raised a brow. Coolly, he said, "That was quite a stack of plaques you brought with you."

"I closed out one of my accounts."

"I'll pay you back after things get settled with Bass Industries," he replied stiffly.

"No," Blair said with unexpected force. "The money's not a loan. It's an investment that I will consider repaid once you succeed in getting Bass Industries back from Bart. I believe in you Chuck, and I know you're capable of doing it."

"I want you to have this."
"Why?"
"Because I love you...you enormously stubborn, pain in the ass."

"And what about La Table Elitaire?"

"What about them? I believe in you. And if this is what it takes for you to believe in you, then it's worth it."

The memory flashed through his mind. Chuck wanted so desperately to be able to react to the sweetness of Blair's gesture, it felt like an emotional lifeline. A lifeline that had been extended many times but had always ended up unraveling.

"I'll bet Harold wasn't thrilled about this."

"Daddy didn't have any objections."

"I find that hard to believe."

"There wasn't much he could say. After all, it was set up for me by Grandmother Waldorf," she clarified. "It was my wedding account."

"What?" There was no way for him to hide his shock.

"The Grimaldis paid for the wedding, so I didn't have to use any of my wedding fund," Blair elaborated. "And that's part of the reason you're in this whole mess, isn't it? My parents are grateful that you paid for the dowry, and so they agreed to abide by my decision. I didn't even realize how much of a role I played in Bart taking Bass Industries back until Nate enlightened me."

"Nathaniel contacted you?" Chuck asked as evenly as possible, a flicker of anger ready to ignite.

Blair shook her head. "I wasn't sure you'd pick up if I tried calling, so I figured…"

"You'd grill my best friend?" He relaxed, relieved by her admission.

"I know it's a predictable play, but Nate's not always so quick on the uptake." Blair shot him a conspiratorial grin that Chuck couldn't stop himself from returning. "What I didn't know, was that he'd been waiting for my call, and started lecturing me before I could even say 'hello'."

Chuck shrugged, masking his approval of his friend. It was nice to hear confirmation that Nate still had his back, the way he had for the past year, when Chuck had needed a friend the most.

"When we finished our talk, Nate told me he'd be in touch. After three days had passed, I was worried that maybe he was shutting me out, but then he finally called yesterday. He said he had spoken to Jack, that the two of you were in Monte Carlo, and Jack would call me when he thought you were ready to see me. I had to call Beatrice to make sure I wasn't persona non grata, and she advised that I not stay for more than twenty-four hours," Blair explained. She glanced at the clock on the wall, before continuing, "I took a flight to Nice this morning, and waited until Jack called a couple of hours ago to take the helicopter over."

"And here you are," he concluded. All of this was so much to absorb. He had a hundred questions, but they were just about the details—important details, mind you—but just details, nonetheless. He didn't know how to tell her to get to the point without seeming too eager.

"Will you please sit down?" Blair asked. "You're making me nervous standing over there."

"I like it here," Chuck replied, unable to keep the hint of petulance out for of his voice.

She responded by raising her brow and giving him an are-you-kidding-me look.

"I've been sitting for hours," he said defensively.

Blair didn't flinch but continued to stare at him.

With a sigh, Chuck pushed away from the door and sat in the chair adjacent to the couch. He settled into his seat before resting his right leg on top of his left knee, and waited for her to speak.

"I know the last thing you expected was for me to show up here tonight, or possibly any night, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about our last conversation. I wanted to apologize for being insensitive about what had just happened with Bart. I was so focused on telling you how I felt and the idea of us finally being together that I marginalized everything else."

Chuck was taken aback by her candor.

"But just because the timing was terrible, doesn't mean what I said was any less true. I want to be a part of your future—even, as painful as it is for me to say, if it's only as a friend," she finished, those last few words difficult for her to deliver.

He had to hand it to Blair, she could still surprise him.

"My choice of words that night could have been better, as well," Chuck acknowledged honestly.

Blair smiled. He could tell she was relieved that she hadn't been the only one who had been displeased with that evening's outcome. She took a deep breath. "I really want you to understand how committed I am to supporting you, and I've been racking my brain to see if there was an angle or option you may not have considered. And I fell upon an idea," Blair said hesitantly. "But I don't want to seem presumptuous or overstep any boundaries…"

Chuck stopped himself from snorting at how overly cautious she was being, but only because he could tell how nervous she was. Her hands were fidgeting with the fabric of her dress, as though she was restraining herself from cracking her knuckles. He nodded at her to continue.

"I think you should sell the Harry Winston ring," she blurted out.

He jumped up from his seat and glared at her. That was the last thing he had expected her to say, and suddenly his emotions overrode any detachment that he may have been trying to project. Had she lost her mind? The ring was either going to end up on her finger, or it would belong to no one at all. That was Blair's ring. The ring he chose for her. The ring he had gotten shot trying to protect. The ring that symbolized what he wanted most in the world, for Blair to be his family, forever.

"I hardly think you're in the position to tell me what to do with it," Chuck practically growled at her.

The discomfort was written all over her face. Blair looked torn between wanting to defend her suggestion and apologizing profusely.

Chuck was so shocked, he hadn't realized he was articulating his thoughts until he recognized the sound of his dejected whisper, "Don't you want it?"

"Are you kidding me?" Blair asked incredulously. "Of course I want it! I wanted it before I even knew you had bought it for me. It's the most beautiful ring I've seen in my entire life."

"Then why…" His voice trailed off. He didn't know why he was acting as though Blair had just rejected a marriage proposal.

That was a lie. He knew exactly why. Even when he had returned the ring to the door of Harry Winston's, he knew that they'd keep it in their vault just in case. Truthfully, he'd been relieved when Bart had brought it back to him.

"Because you need the money more than I need a flawless engagement ring. Jack told me how close you two are to raising the capital needed to get to the next step of your plan. So if you sell the ring and add it to my contribution, it'll be close to half of the remaining amount you need."

As much as it pained him to admit, Blair was absolutely right.

"And Chuck, I hope you believe me when I say that being with you is the only thing I want. We can spend the rest of our lives not being married or we can leave right now, and elope tonight. It doesn't matter if we have rings on our fingers or not. The label or title or the parameters we give to our relationship are all irrelevant. I'm putting my faith in us. We're Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck. It's us versus the world. If not having that ring means you're going into battle against Bart with every last resource possible, so be it."

Blair spoke so earnestly that he wished they were in high school again, when the only obstacle that stood between them were those three words, eight letters. But they weren't. And as much as he wanted to forget most of the past two and a half years of his life, he couldn't.

"It's not that simple, Blair," Chuck said tiredly, as he looked away.

"Of course not, when have we ever been simple?" She challenged him. "You and I have always been scared about the power we have over each other. And that's been our biggest mistake—that we chose to view our love as something that weakened us, despite how happy we made each other. We were foolish to think we couldn't have everything, because we can. We just have to do it together, because that's when we're at our best, when we have an advantage over everyone else."

Chuck walked to the window. During the day, he had a spectacular view of the Mediterranean Sea, but at night the water was blanketed in darkness. His eyes were unfocused as he stared outside the window, needing to look anywhere but at Blair.

He let out a sigh. "That's easy to say now. But it doesn't change what's happened."

"We can fix it, one step at a time."

"Fix it?" Chuck laughed hollowly. "There are some things that cannot be salvaged."

Quietly, Blair said, "If we love each other, then we can get through it. I don't expect any of this to be easy. I know that you're angry about so many things, especially how I behaved towards you the past few months, and you have every right to be. But is there anything that we really can't move past?"

There were unsaid words hanging in the air. He waited. He wanted to see if she was going to throw any number of examples in his face.

Silence.

"We've both hurt each other in the past, but it never made me love you any less. I don't know how to love you any other way but completely," Blair said unapologetically.

She was refusing to play the blame game, and now it was his turn to hesitate. He didn't know if saying the words that had been trapped inside him would serve any other purpose but for him to wound her, as she had him. Even thinking about what had happened was like reliving that day all over again.

"I know it shouldn't matter, but it does," he said bitterly, unable to keep out the sadness and pain layered in his voice. "You told me you loved me and then you married him anyway."

"Chuck—."

"I'll never get to be the only one. You had a husband…and he wasn't me," his strained confession cut her off.

"Don't say that," Blair said hoarsely.

"But it's true." He turned his head to look at her.

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't myself, I was overwrought with grief. I lost the…" Her voice trailed off as she choked back a sob and closed her eyes. Blair still couldn't talk about it—she couldn't even think about it without wanting to curl into the fetal position and cry. She had buried her feelings so deep inside of herself that she could go days before remembering that it had happened.

She took a deep breath, trying to withstand the wave of crushing loss she felt. "I somehow convinced myself that it was the only way I could save you. I had to be able to save someone. Chuck, you were and are the most important person in my life, and I couldn't picture any life if you weren't alive."

He remained silent. Blair knew Chuck believed her, it was the first time she had even referenced the life they had lost that night, the life that consisted of him, her and her, no—their—baby. She knew that he understood the highly complex and occasionally convoluted workings of her mind better than anyone else. He would know that what she had just said meant she hadn't truly acknowledged, yet alone grieved, her loss. And she still wasn't ready to, not tonight.

"Chuck, I know I robbed us of being my only wedding, but I promise you, that's the only thing that was stolen from us. Even my wedding to Louis was more about you than it was about him."

"What are you talking about?"

For a moment, Blair was surprised that he hadn't noticed the signs. "I think I've planned our wedding a hundred different times since the night we didn't say I love you to each other, the night you said you'd rather wait," she divulged. "The original Vera Wang dress—while beautiful—would've made it impossible for you to hold me as close as I'd have wanted you to while we danced. My hair was worn down to cover the nape of my neck. The Erickson Beamon necklace was missing. The wedding rings didn't have engraved inscriptions. You couldn't find the color purple anywhere. Even though I was marrying someone else, I couldn't stop myself from saving those things for you."

Chuck stood facing her, astounded by her admission.

"If I could undo everything from the moment I woke up in the hospital, I would, but I can't. Please let it be enough that no matter what that piece of paper said, it was a marriage in name only. I don't even think of Louis as having been my husband, because he wasn't. You will be my only husband. I know it's not ideal or perfect, but we'll still be us. Chuck, you'll have everything that counts. I've never had a wedding night or a marriage. Those will always be yours—ours. And no one, including me, will ever come between us again."

Blair looked at him pleadingly, as if she could will him to see what was in her heart. She knew that it was no small task to ask him to take a leap of faith and trust that they were worth it. They had to be. They had come too far to lose each other and themselves again.

Bravely, she continued, "I love you, Chuck. They may just seem like empty words to you, but they're not. With everything I have, I love you. I've never stopped loving you and I never will."

"You're sure that this is what you want?" He asked slowly, in a neutral tone.

"How can you—." The shake of his head, stopped her from finishing her sentence. What more could she possibly do or say to convince him that he was all she wanted?

Pause.

"So that there are no misunderstandings, what you're saying is that you want to be with me, married to me, for the rest of our lives?" He tilted his head and raised a brow, calmly waiting for an answer.

Blair nodded her confirmation.

"You're voluntarily committing to a lifetime of being bound to someone like me? Someone narcissistic, arrogant and smug. Someone who has had the great misfortune of being born into one of the worst biological families in history, not to mention the deep seated trust issues?"

Her lips twitched, even though the expression on Chuck's face remained impassive. Softly, Blair said, "You forgot the part about how you're also loyal, clever and supportive, with a flair for the dramatic. Not to mention you make me obscenely happy, have never stopped loving me or believing in me. Suffice to say, yes, I want every part of you."

"You know I'll never let you go again," Chuck said, almost too casually.

"Just as you know I'll never let you let me go again," she countered seriously.

Chuck smiled slowly, and as he moved to take a step towards her, she closed the distance between them and threw her arms around him and held him tight.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered into his ear.

"I know," he whispered back.

They stood there for what felt like hours, just being able to hold each other again was enough. Blair couldn't stop herself from burying her face into the side of his neck, and inhaling the familiar and intoxicating scent of his cologne. She snuggled even closer to him, as his hands soothingly ran up and down her spine. She could be happy forever, just standing there in his arms.

"How long were you planning on being in Paris?" Chuck asked a few minutes later.

"Three, maybe four weeks," her answer came out muffled. She turned her face so her cheek rested on his shoulder. "I can try to shift things around, if you want, but I don't know if it'll make much of a difference. It might shave a day or two off at the most."

Chuck shook his head. "No, you need to take care of Waldorf Designs. Plus, it'll give me time to take care of things on my end."

"You mean with Jack? About Bart and Bass Industries?"

"Yes. I need to tell Jack there's been a change of plan. It's so obvious, I can't believe I didn't see it this whole time," Chuck said with chagrin.

Blair pulled away slightly so she could look up at him. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to do what I should've done two years ago—I'm going to sell The Empire."

"But Chuck, that's the—," Blair started to say.

"The right thing to do," he finished her sentence.

"No," she said with a frown. "I was going to say that The Empire is the flagship of your brand."

"Was the flagship, Blair," he said decisively. "The Empire was the symbol of me stepping outside of my father's shadow because you believed in me. While it started as a good thing, I let it control me, define me. But I'm more than just a business or how much money I make, losing you taught me that. My father's never going to see me for who I am, so why should I try to build our future by competing with him?"

"Are you sure, Chuck?"

"More sure than I've ever been. I'm going to let Jack keep all the money we've won—except for what you brought. After things are squared with him, I'll head back and get started on selling the hotel and figure out what I want to do next. I'll still have Victrola and possibly keep Gimlet. And when you're done with your Waldorf Designs obligations in Paris and come back to New York," Chuck paused to stare at her intensely. "I'm going to finally put your ring on your finger."

"I hope you know I don't consider that an acceptable proposal," Blair said, biting the edge of her lip, as she was prone to doing when really excited.

The thought of the ring on her finger, declaring to the world that she and Chuck belonged to each other, made her heart skip. No one, not even Serena, knew that she had tried on the ring before she had returned it to Chuck in Paris, two years ago. Even though it had been on her finger for less than a minute, it had taken everything in her to take the ring off and put it back in the box. There would be no need to have it sized, like everything else about the ring, the fit was perfect.

"Who said I was proposing?" Chuck scoffed.

"Excuse me?" Blair's eyes widened in disbelief. "What part of putting a ring on my finger doesn't spell a proposal?"

"My track record when planning on proposing to you has had some rather disastrous results."

"Perhaps, that may have been true in the past," Blair conceded. "But, I'd be remiss if I didn't draw your attention to the fact that nothing about this moment has been planned."

"You do make an excellent point," Chuck admitted. With a smug grin, he added, "However, we both know that you'll marry me, whether I propose or not."

"Chuck!"

"You know we still have a lot to talk about, pretty much everything—and I mean everything, Blair," he said seriously. Once again, she could see the sadness in his eyes about the loss of a baby that never was.

Blair nodded her head in agreement, shutting her eyes in pain. "Nothing will be off the table, no matter how unseemly, no matter how unbearable the truth. I meant it when I told you that I'm not running anymore. I know that I need to be honest with you if I want this to work."

The tears started to trickle down her cheeks. Relief, she felt relief. Chuck was her rock, and this time, she was going to let him be there for her.

Chuck cupped her face and started to kiss away her tears so gently, she wanted to weep.

"Marry me," he said quietly.

She blinked her eyes open in surprise. "What?"

"Blair Waldorf, I want to marry you. And I know that you want to marry me, too." Chuck pursed his lip and gave her his true smile.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Blair smirked happily. "You're mine."

He laughed. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Yes," she nodded, as she reached and touched her hand to his face. "Chuck Bass, I'm going to be your wife."

Their gazes were locked on each other, both pairs of brown eyes twinkling brightly. She was giddy with happiness, love and everything Chuck. She pulled his face down towards hers and brushed her lips against his. It felt like an eternity since she had last kissed him.

"I love you, Blair," he murmured against her lips, saying the words she had feared she may never hear from him again.

"Forever?"

"Forever," Chuck confirmed.

He rested his forehead against hers, nuzzling her nose gently, before he captured her lips with his.

Forever was starting now.

.

.

.

fin

A/N: Yes, I have finally caught up on all episodes of Gossip Girl, even the horrific ones that make me cringe at the mere thought. I really don't know how all of you survived watching those episodes live, with all that time in between. But I'm so excited for Season Six, all the excruciating waiting is over! I'm trying not to get too ahead of myself, but I can't help it.

My brain has been swarming with about a hundred different scenarios for what happens post 5x24, and this is the version that ended up getting finished first. There will probably be another post casino oneshot, tackling other issues I'm fixated on that didn't quite fit into this piece. This is a new experience for me, wanting to write so many different fics centering off of that final scene. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading.

Thanks to OllieCullie for the beta, you really helped me out and I appreciate it so much. Thanks to uncorazonquebrado for betaing the drabble, even though you were crunched for time (note how that less than 1K drabble evolved into this? Brevity…still don't know the meaning of that word). And thanks to my IRL bff VS, for doing random grammatical corrections via text messaging, even though you think my obsession with GG (Chuck and Blair) is more than a wee bit excessive, yet you humor and support me anyway.