THE ONE

Summary: Chuck and Blair's reunion and marriage inspire their best friends Nate and Serena to rekindle their on-again, off-again lifelong love. The four friends revisit the past, each couple exploring their deepest fantasies and insecurities during one fateful summer in the Hamptons. A story about finding... and seeking... "the one." NJBC shipper fic (with minor DS, NV, NL & NJ hints), P&Cverse.

(This fic is set in the same AU as "Pomp and Circumstance," which is AU after 5x19. While it isn't necessary to be familiar with that story to appreciate this one, readers of P&C should note that this story takes place about nine months before the first chapter, "Morning," begins.)

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Gossip Girl universe, not even (sadly) Chuck or Nate. Major props to Cecily von Ziegesar, the CW, the producers, actors, and crew, and everyone involved with bringing these amazing characters to life.

Dedicated to the amazing DrGG/30SomethingGG/Ellen, the best Chair and Serenate shipper I know.

Monday, August 13, 2012.

Evening.

Everyone knows horseback riding on the beach is something that one does in far-flung, exotic locations... the warmer, the better. It certainly shouldn't be done on finely bred Arabian steeds. And one shouldn't be racing along the surf during peak season, anyway. But no matter what, such a feat shouldn't be accomplished at dusk, at high tide, and under a full moon.

Well, Chuck and Blair Bass weren't just anyone. What had been breathless pillow talk during one of their endless honeymoon nights, a random dream of Blair's that she'd remembered from a movie, or a trashy novel, or something like that, actually prompted her enamored husband to make a few phone calls in anticipation of their arrival back in the United States, make arrangements with a rancher in Montauk, shut down part of a private, exclusive beach, and make her fantasy come true.

Between the two of them, even though they'd promised each other forever, everything was a game. Scheming was in their blood, along with a need for control and domination. It was foreplay for them. It was sweet torture.

But today, Chuck and Blair weren't scheming. Instead, this was a good, old-fashioned race.

Blair was by the far the better equestrian of the two. Although she didn't have on proper riding clothes just then, she'd been on horses since she could walk... all well-bred girls in their generation had. Her small hands knew exactly where and how to guide the reins as her mare's hooves churned up the edge of the surf.

Chuck had fewer years of experience on horses. It had been one of many parts of his upbringing that Bart had neglected. Fortunately, Chuck had grown up with money, and around boys from good families. William Vanderbilt in particular noticed that he wasn't joining Nate and his cousins on a ride during one of their family weekends, and insisted that Chuck join. With the assistance of a jockey employed by the Vanderbilts as a groom, he caught on fast. What Chuck lacked in practice, he more than made up for with power and natural grace.

So it was a most evenly matched contest...

...that is, if Chuck hadn't let Blair deliberately pull ahead. The better to enjoy the back view. Because the exquisite brown curls he'd spent the past few months running his fingers through were flowing freely in the wind. There was the fine slope of her back, down to the tiny waist he enjoyed spanning with his hands...

...and best of all, there was nothing quite like seeing her ass on that saddle. Despite being all cupped and strapped up for the ride, Chuck couldn't help but get aroused at the sight of her.

For her part, Blair was in her element. From time to time, she'd glance over her shoulder at her husband. Her husband. She couldn't believe everything that had happened in her life in just three short months. She'd reunited with Chuck, helped him regain the dowry that the Grimaldis had all but extorted from her (although, as he'd pointed out, she should've never signed anything in the first place)...

...and married him. They were married. She was the wife of the incredibly handsome man who was bearing down on her, sights set on her, the sole object of his focus just then. Even from her little glances back, she saw the power in his forearms as he clenched the reins, urging his steed on, and the grip of his thighs and legs against the sides of the horse.

Suddenly, she wanted to be that horse! They'd gotten up far too early this morning, and they'd been far too busy to indulge in their usual activities. Perhaps their honeymoon was now officially over, but that didn't mean that she was willing to go 24 hours without being with her husband in every way possible.

Feeling a sense of exhilaration and power, Blair guided her horse into the shallow tide. At first, the mare protested, but soon was trotting quickly through the cool ocean water. Some of the surf splashed on Blair's legs and arms, as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon.

Chuck thought he'd never seen anything he wanted as much as her. If he died then and there, he would be going away a fulfilled man. He'd only been married to Blair for two months, but knew she'd belonged to him years ago... sure, they were only twenty-one, but it felt as if he'd waited forever for her. Even after fulfilling his promise to make love to his feisty little brunette vixen on every continent, he wondered if they hadn't come back home too soon.

Well, that would soon be corrected, he thought as the ranch hands trotted toward them, their time nearly up. As soon as the mounts were heading back, he planned to pull her into the cool water, play with her until she burned...

... and then spread her on the sand for his pleasure.

She wasn't quick enough. He'd dismounted, handed the reins off to the ranch hand, and was by her side before she could swing her foot out of the stirrup.

"My lady," he said gallantly, holding out a hand to help her down. A small smile playing around her lips, Blair took it, and was soon on the ground, in his arms.

"Thank you, we've had a lovely time," she called to the ranch hands, sinking into her husband's strong embrace. Soon they were alone on the sandbar, slipping off their riding boots, then making footprints in the wet sand that were soon erased by the tide.

"It's good to be home," Blair finally said. "Even if Montauk is slightly east of it."

"It is," Chuck agreed. "I can't believe we managed to make it into the greater New York area without tipping off the paparazzi or Gossip Girl..."

"Oh, I think the press has had its fill of us," she replied, squeezing his hand as they walked along. "It's been a long summer."

"Yes, princess, it has been," he smirked, slanting an admiring glance at her. "But I haven't had my fill yet..."

"If I have my way, Bass," she whispered, "you never will."

She stood on tiptoe and pulled his head down to her, but he was already leaning down into the kiss. Her tongue pressed between his lips, seeking his own. She was addicted to his taste, all Scotch and cigars and smoke and fire and hers.

Blair knew that she'd been lost from their first kiss in the limo all those years ago... contrary to popular belief, her initial intent had been just to kiss him, perhaps make out with him a little... but she'd hadn't counted on the spectacular alchemy that turned every cell in her body into molten gold under his kisses and touches.

Slowly, Chuck lowered her into the soft sand. Before Blair, he'd never really been a huge fan of sex on the beach (well, perhaps the cocktail, when he was in middle school and hadn't yet developed a taste for fine whiskey). While good in theory, sand was a bitch... it got absolutely everywhere. But if he didn't bury himself in her immediately, he would explode. What always got to Chuck was how fast he reacted to Blair, how ensnared he got, how his blood would boil and rage south and all of it would pool at his groin and how much his cock would pound and ache and demand that he sink into his mate, whenever, wherever, however...

"Uh-uh," Blair murmured softly, voice breathless from their heady kisses. "Clothes have to stay on."

"That's not what you said the last time..." Kiss. "Or the time before that... or..."

"The last time, we were on a deserted island somewhere in the middle of the Pacific. The time before that, that delightful little Balinese resort... or was that Phuket?"

"Exactly. That's my point."

"Point not conceded, Bass." Her little teeth sank gently into his bottom lip, and she hissed as his hardness pressed into her panty-covered core. "We are back in our kingdom... it's only through the luck of the draw that the paps didn't get any really interesting shots of us while we were honeymooning around the world."

He continued his teasing, hands seeking salty, silken skin beneath her garments. "Where's your sense of adventure, Mrs. Bass?"

"Right here," she murmured, running her small hand over the plane of his stomach, then sliding it down. "And right here," her fingertips brushed his aching cock, eliciting a deep rumble in his chest, "and especially here," her voice broke, as she curled her fingers around, just as his own fingers found her moist slit.

Their coupling was as urgent and powerful as the ocean tide that they were half-lying in. But neither felt the cool, moonlit water as they came together, thoroughly aroused from the ride and the moment, ravishing each other, mind, body, and soul. Blair shamelessly wrapped her legs high on Chuck's back, grasping his strong jaw as she crashed her lips against his, angling herself to receive everything he had to give. In turn, Chuck's thrusts grew more erratic, his hands on her body more demanding. In spite of her refusal to be naked with him, the mother-of-pearl buttons on her white dress came undone, and soon, her strapless bra was floating in the surf as if it were just another bit of seaweed. All the better for him to tear his mouth from hers, to capture one sweet pink nipple and areola in his mouth to lick, to suckle, to nibble...

Blair came apart. Her nails sank into his back, arms and legs tightening around him, inner walls gripping his length, milking it for all that he was worth. Her cries were lost as high tide came in, crashing around them to the waist, causing them to sink into the wet sand as the sensation of her peak triggered his own.

Neither had any idea how much time had passed when they finally came back to themselves, intertwined on the sand, with only their ragged breaths, the lost cry of the gulls, and the roar of the ocean for a soundtrack. Chuck rolled so that he was on his back, Blair on top, exploring her mouth lazily.

"Another fantasy comes true," she said against his lips. "And to think I thought that one was too pathetic to share... especially after you compared me to your father's sweaty old horse!"

Kiss. "You'll never let me live that one down, will you?"

"Never... but it's not as if you're not going to tease me about this... even though you thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it!"

"Well, this one was over the top even for me, Blair. Horses? The ocean? Moonlight?" he laughed. "And here I always thought you were into Audrey, not Harlequin bodice-rippers."

Blair moved sensuously against him. Meaningfully.

"Well, Bass, you can rip my bodice any day," she purred, sitting up to slide back onto him.

At the feel of her, he grew even harder. "Never satisfied..."

"Mmmm, but you do satisfy me... completely. It's just that... I always want more..."

And more is what she received.

XOXOXOXOXO

Blair's fantasy also involved sleeping on the beach all night long, but on that score, Chuck wouldn't budge.

"I have a bad back," he complained.

"No, you don't! You're just spoiled rotten," she snapped back. "Not to mention selfish! Always have to have your creature comforts, don't you, Bass?"

"As if you don't, Waldorf... ouch!" Chuck rubbed his upper forearm, where she'd hit him.

"Yes, I'll always be a Waldorf, but I'm also just as much of a Bass as you are now," she said, sitting up and buttoning the top of her dress. "I thought you promised me that you'd make all my fantasies come true?"

"When I said that," he said, sitting up, "I didn't know that your fantasies involved getting sand up my asscrack..."

"Well, I'm not the one who forgot the blanket," she returned, standing up, and looking so delectable that her husband actually did consider her request. But, remembering the few times he'd slept out on the beach with her (and Nate, and Serena) as kids, he decided that she'd look equally delectable in a nice bed.

"Next time," he drawled, looking meaningfully at her. She blushed, and then held out a hand so that he could scramble up to his feet.

One soggy, salt-encrusted limo ride later, the Basses arrived at Bart's Hamptons home. Because they'd notified no one, they didn't expect anyone to be there, not even staff. There was a caretaker, but they hadn't called him, either. Their luggage wouldn't be sent until the morning, so there was no need.

Both Chuck and Blair were surprised to see that every window was lit inside the large, stately beachfront mansion. Although it was unlikely that a burglar was lurking, Chuck still turned the knob slowly, keeping Blair behind him.

"Hello?" she called out into the stately foyer. There was no answer. Chuck glanced at her, then followed her into the living room that afforded one with a grand view of the moonlit pool.

That's when they heard it. Noise in the kitchen.

"Someone's in here," whispered Blair.

"It's probably the caretaker," Chuck muttered back. "I'll go and see."

"Wait a minute, don't go! You're not armed!"

He frowned. "You weren't supposed to know about that."

"I know everything... here, take this." She pressed a heavy decorative candlestick into his hand. "And I'm coming right behind you for backup."

Chuck shook his head. "Unbelievable..."

"Shhhh!"

They tiptoed down the hall. Swung open the kitchen door...

"Oh God!"

Blair gaped, then clapped her mouth over her hands. Chuck smirked. For they'd just caught their two best friends in the throes of passion... wearing perhaps one garment of clothing between the two of them, covered partially in whipped cream and doing something with what appeared to be a fruit salad.

It took a moment for Serena and Nate to notice that they weren't alone. Blair's outburst didn't do it, but Chuck clearing his throat pointedly did. The next few seconds were hilarious, because they involved Nate's creative use of the fruit bowl to cover his essentials and Serena (in a mad dash to get off the counter) falling into the double sink.

Chuck and Blair, certainly no strangers to being found in compromising positions, burst out laughing.

"Well, at least we know who was getting the place ready for us!" Blair giggled.

Chuck was chortling too. "I'd say they were giving it a proper christening..."

"Excuse me," said a furious, red-faced Nate, "but do you two mind?"

"Not at all," said Chuck. "We'll find a shower, while the two of you finish... shall we say, your dessert?"

And they laughed all the way up the stairs.

XOXOXOXOXO

An hour later, Chuck and Blair were freshly changed, and so were Nate and Serena. The four old friends, now two couples, sat on the private beach, enjoying the light from the firepit much as they'd done since their earliest childhood memories.

"So how was sailing the world, you drifters?" asked Serena, sitting forward on Nate's lap to roast a s'more. (Whenever there was a fire, Serena van der Woodsen was going to roast something... that was just a fact of life.)

"Well, we didn't exactly sail," Blair replied, comfortable in Chuck's arms. "We prefer the Bass jet. And we had a grand time... the best ever. Didn't want to come back, but duty called."

"Yes, my father ran into us in Singapore last week," added Chuck. "Asked if we were going to stay on vacation forever, or if I was ready to work again."

"Nice of Bart to rain on your parade," was Nate's opinion, his hands on Serena's waist to keep her balanced. "I don't care if I never set foot in the Spectator offices again..."

"Which is why I make him go, of course," Serena said, pulling her treat out of the fire and blowing on it. "He goes into the city while I sit on the beach and write. Blair, how did your summer classes go?"

They caught up like that for half the night. And it was almost as if no time had passed, just like every time in the Hamptons. Only this time, for the first time, everything was just right. Instead of Blair chasing Nate, Nate stealing furtive glances at Serena, Chuck's hooded eyes following Blair's every move, and Serena free and wild as the wind... it was Serena and Nate, Chuck and Blair. The blonds, the brunettes. Just as it ought to be, they reflected.

Serena fed Nate a few s'mores, which led to Nate suggesting a weenie roast, something they hadn't done for many years. So the guys went to raid the kitchen, leaving the girls by the fire.

"So... you and Nate are good?" Blair asked, hugging her knees to her chest and wishing she'd stolen a pair of her husband's socks to wear. She always missed Chuck's body warmth on breezy nights like this and hated when he was away from her for more than a few moments.

"Better than good," Serena sighed. "It's really been one of the calmest summers of my life. Nate is... Natie's good for me, B. He's good to me. Being with him is just... it's easy."

"I'm glad," Blair smiled. "I'm so glad... because I felt so guilty that I'd..."

Serena held up a hand. "Don't even say it, Blair. I'm not thinking about him, haven't heard from him, and don't expect to. I don't know... maybe everything that happened this winter and spring was for the best. It made me appreciate Nate."

"Nate's always loved you," said Blair, perhaps a little wistfully... but only a little. "I can see the four of us doing this for a long time."

"I can too," said Serena, grinning at her best friend. "I still can't believe you're married! To Chuck! And that you're my sister!" Serena's smile faded, her blue eyes shining earnestly in the moonlight. "But just like us, you and Chuck just seem right. Always did..."

"Nuh-uh! Don't even start! Thanksgiving 2007! All the judgment about me and Chuck being together... I haven't forgotten, Serena!"

"Well, you weren't exactly together back then... and I knew that Nate would be hurt by it, that's all. Just like he and I hurt you." She sighed. "Sometimes I wish it had just been like this from the beginning, you know? When we were kids."

"Now, you know that would've never happened," Blair said practically. "My parents would've had fits over me and Chuck being childhood sweethearts, especially Eleanor! You know, the only reason I think I got out of the arranged Waldorf-Archibald marriage was because of the Captain's scandal!"

"And now look at you. On your second marriage already... you're becoming quite the Upper East Side socialite after all!"

Blair threw a handful of sand in her friend's direction. "Some of us grow up faster than others! Besides, I'd be willing to bet that you and Nate will be walking down the aisle soon!"

Serena didn't protest. Instead, she blushed deeply and didn't say anything.

"So. You and Chuck are going to have three wedding receptions, B? Only you..."

XOXOXOXOXO

It took Chuck and Nate a good fifteen minutes to locate the meat freezer, then the location of the bratwurst within it. This was because they stopped to have a drink. Nate grabbed a microbrew and offered it to Chuck, who declined in favor of a glass of bourbon.

"This is the life," said Nate, taking a swig of the beer, then setting it on the counter... where he'd been boning Serena just hours before. Chuck had the same thoughts as he eyed it warily, then cupped the tumbler in his hand.

"Enjoying yourself with my sister, Nathaniel?"

"Don't start! Remember, I live with you... how many nights have you and Blair kept me up, huh?"

"Blair wasn't the only girl I had up there." Yet it was said with a smirk.

"Well, I don't know what you were doing with all the others. Never heard a sound except when you were with her."

"What can I say? My wife has well-developed... vocal chords."

"When she's with you, maybe."

Silence. More alcohol was downed, tipped in memory of their complicated, intertwined pasts.

"So... are you and Blair going back to the Empire this fall?" Nate seemed tentative.

"If you want to know whether you'll be treated to our special symphony upon our return to the city, Nathaniel, I'll have you know that the answer is no. I've just closed on a new building, and the top floors are all ours. Blair is going to love it... but for the time being, I am relegated to my in-laws' domicile."

"Chuck, I don't feel sorry for you. You probably have a thousand fantasies about 'sleeping over' at Blair's, and no, I don't want to know how long you've had them," Nate declared. "Besides, you're not the only one with a surprise for your girl."

"Taking the Empire penthouse off my hands, Nathaniel? I'd consider an offer... perhaps I should have given you first option to buy..."

"Whatever. It's not the Empire."

Nate reached into the pocket of his shorts. Pulled out a box. Opened it.

The Vanderbilt diamond glittered under the kitchen lights.

Chuck's reaction was uncharacteristic, but sincere. "Wow."

"Yeah. That's what I said. I never thought I'd find a girl worthy of it. I just knew it wasn't for Blair..."

"Sure the hell wasn't," Chuck muttered under his breath.

"It was always for Serena," Nate said. "You know, she hates diamonds, and I know she and my mother don't really get along. But this ring looks like it belongs on her hand. Mom'll come around, and Dad and Grandfather will be pleased."

"So it's all settled, then."

"It will be once I pop the question."

"Ah, the infamous 'popping the question.' It's not as hard as it looks..."

"Save it, Chuck. I know you didn't propose until after Blair slid that ring on her own finger."

"What? Did she tell..."

"Serena. And S told me."

Chuck shook his head. "I have no idea why I still associate with you people. Anyway, you've got to just go for it. Make it grand."

"Yeah, I plan to. That's why I thought I'd just do it at your Hamptons reception..."

"No," said Chuck suddenly. "Before then. We can announce it at the reception if it's a done deal."

Nate turned this over in his head. "Maybe."

"Trust me, you don't want to wait. Find a time and a spot. Find the moment. Make it count... take it from an old married man."

His best friend just laughed. "Two months of marriage, man. What makes you an expert?"

Smirk. "I'm Chuck Bass."

Rolling his eyes, Nate groaned. "I set myself up for that one, I guess."

"You did, although it's true. Good luck... I'm sure the wife will want to plan your engagement bash as our first event in the new penthouse."

XOXOXOXOXO

The next night, Nate turned Chuck's advice over in his head, as he sat in the hot tub on the deck, Serena in his arms, across from Chuck and Blair. They'd begun having a conversation, but the newlyweds started making out whenever there was a lull. That really wasn't Nate or Serena's style... Serena was more adventurous, but Nate didn't care much for an audience. As much as he wanted for his night with Serena to begin, he hoped that Chuck and Blair would grow tired and leave first. Then he'd have the hot tub... and Serena... all to himself.

"Chuck, stop," Blair laughed, removing her husband's hand from the tie of her bikini strap. "No playing when we're not private." She kissed him, though, wrapping her arms around him, and pulling him close.

"It's just Nathaniel and my sister, who cares?" Chuck complained, pulling her close for another hot kiss. "This is our house anyway."

"It's your father's house," snapped Serena, "who happens to be my stepfather..."

"One of many, sis."

"Go to hell, Chuck!"

"Hey," said Nate, turning her to face him. "If you can't beat them, join them!"

The thing that Nate loved most about kissing Serena was that she was like this exotic, wild tropical thing that was completely unique, but utterly addicting. He didn't get how anyone could ever get tired of kissing her. She was an amazing kisser, Nate thought, better than any other girl he'd ever had the privilege of kissing. Beneath her, Nate found himself getting very, very aroused.

Just then, Serena pushed away, and then made an announcement.

"It's been ten years since we've skinny dipped! Ten long years! You know what that means..."

"Oh, no," said Blair. "I'm not drunk enough yet!"

Chuck's mouth immediately landed on her neck. "I can talk you into it."

"The water's too cold," she protested in reply. Then, "Chuck! Stop..." chortling with mirth.

Serena would not be deterred. She was already up on her knees. "Well, you can stay here by yourself, Blair, like you always did! And the boys will come with, like they always did!"

"That's because the boys always wanted to get an eyeful, like they always did! And while I couldn't care less what Nate does, Chuck isn't going out there!"

"Fine, Blair," said Nate, jumping out of the tub (sending water everywhere), and helping Serena out. "Be your usual boring self. But I think it sounds like a great idea! Come on, S!"

The golden pair ran down the deck toward the beach.

Blair was clearly insulted. "I am not boring," she insisted with a pout, folding her arms over her red bikini top.

Chuck was just staring at her, face unreadable.

"Tell me I'm not boring!"

"You're not boring."

"And stop smirking!"

He didn't. "Any other demands, Blair?"

"None. I'm just in a bad mood."

"Oh? I have just the thing..."

And he swung her up into his arms, cradling her as he got out of the tub. At first, Blair smiled with triumph, thinking they were going up to bed. She closed her eyes, quite satisfied.

But then Chuck called out:

"Hear ye, hear ye! Make way for the ice princess!"

"What? Chuck, I will HURT YOU! PUT ME DOWN!"

Nate and Serena were already splashing in the surf, up to their knees in the moonlit ocean. (Despite Serena's suggestion, they still had their suits on.) Soon Chuck and a flailing, sputtering Blair joined them. If it were daylight, he would have just thrown her in. Instead, when he saw where Serena and Nate were splashing, and Nate's "hey man, over here" he just walked into the shallow waves.

Blair, after being convinced that there were no sharks (and if there were, she wouldn't be devoured by one), started to relax. And a relaxed Blair was a mischievous Blair... it was she who started the first water fight. First, it was couple against couple, then the girls against the guys, and finally, an individual free for all that left them all breathless and laughing.

They hadn't played like that since they were elementary school kids. But as they landed on the sand, panting, laughing, and still shouting braggadocio and threats, they soon realized that they weren't kids anymore.

Nate rolled Serena under him, kissing her hungrily, making short work of her bikini top. Neither cared this time whether their best friends were looking on, but something told Nate that the Basses had disappeared far out of sight to have their own private playtime. Serena's hands pulled at his hair pleasurably as she slid her tongue deeper into his mouth.

But just then, as much as she aroused him, Nate had the need to taste her. One lick of her salty, wet skin had him going crazy... he had to lick her everywhere. And so he did. Her neck. Her collarbone and clavicle. Her breasts... golden, golden everywhere, except for their pale, dusky rose nipples. Her belly button. And lower, still lower...

"Oh, Nate..." she whispered, as his lips and tongue found her inner thighs. "I want you so bad..."

When he connected with her center, Serena's keening was answered by the gulls streaking above. Nate held on through her climax... he never really liked to go down on girls, although he sure didn't mind them doing that for him... but Serena? She was different. Never had he seen a more perfect woman in his life.

Once her shivers subsided, Nate slid up to cover her body with his.

"Cold?" he muttered.

"No," she kissed him. "I love you, Nate... I really, really do... make love to me."

And, there by the ocean, he did.

XOXOXOXOXO

At the end of the night, Chuck stood on the balcony of the master bedroom, staring expressionlessly out at the dark water, taking in the sounds and the scent. Behind him, Blair was snug in the enormous bed, tired from their long day of reception planning, then the bonfire, hot tub, ocean dip... and all the rounds they'd gotten in once he brought her back to the master suite. (Technically, it was Bart's, but his father was busy with travel and almost never came here.)

He thought of the Hamptons of summers past, and the four of them. The first time he could remember was when they were all seven, between second and third grade. They'd built sand castles and forts. He'd pulled Blair's pigtails, and Nate had yelled at him. They'd wrestled over the issue, and it was a draw. They'd gone to barbecues and clambakes and got yelled at by Dorota when they stripped down to their underwear and ran into the water, howling like banshees... Serena first, then Nate, and then Chuck... after pushing a disapproving Blair in.

His mind fast-forwarded to when they were all eleven. Some nanny, likely his au pair, had gotten him and Nate paddleboards, which Serena and Nate took out. The blonds got their first golden tans, although Blair screamed at them about skin cancer and slathered sunblock on her perfect porcelain skin. She also wore a wide-brimmed hat that Chuck declared "stupid-looking" until one day he forgot his sunscreen and turned red as a lobster. (Of course, Blair never let him live it down.)

Then came the summer they were fourteen, the last summer before everything changed... although it had all been changing for a long time. He remembered that the girls were suddenly no longer girls, but young women... he remembered the way so many of the boys' eyes on the beach were focused on Serena's new curves... but try as he might, he couldn't see what was so special about his future stepsister's looks. The Italian au pair had a better set of jugs, a set of Brazilian twins he'd played with the summer before had better asses, and her legs... well, damn, perhaps his sister had one up on most women when it came to legs. He'd give S that much.

But he really wasn't a leg man, anyway. Even at his young age, Chuck knew what he liked. And more and more often, his gaze was drawn to Blair. Blair, his best friend's girlfriend. Blair, who was smaller and paler and more petite than Serena, but whose dark eyes and dark curls and hot, tight body were starting to take up permanent residence in his fantasies. Whose porcelain skin fascinated him endlessly... unmarred, except by only a few beauty marks that he could see (the location of which he may or may not have memorized). Whose perfect, hot pink lips, usually coated carefully in red glossy lipstick, made him wonder if certain other parts of her were just as pink and perfect and hot. And her ass...

Yes, indeed. At age fourteen, Chuck Bass knew he liked a woman's derriere. It was his favorite part of the female anatomy. And his very favorite happened to belong to the only girl beyond his reach.

Of course, being with Blair was an impossible fantasy back then. That's why he never entertained it. He knew she barely tolerated him, knew she always wanted Nate. He told himself that she wasn't for him, that there were other girls who were prettier, sexier, and far more willing.

But all these many years later, Chuck closed his eyes, remembering the way he used to watch the girl who tortured his dreams. Chasing Nate on the sand, laughing as Nate caught her by the waist and spun her around... the only thing her dark, beautiful eyes would ever see was his best friend... never him... he was just an annoyance, a friend out of habit...

"Chuck?"

He turned around, away from those old memories playing out in his mind, projected on the pale light of the predawn horizon... and turned to face his present and future. Blair was rubbing her eyes, looking very young despite the fact that she was only wearing a tiny pair of La Perlas and one of his undershirts, one of the broad straps slipping down her shoulder.

"Why aren't you in bed?" she demanded. "It's too early to be up. And you've got the doors open... it's chilly."

He drew her to sit with him, on his lap, warming her up by rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"Old times."

They didn't say anything for a while. Blair also stared out at the dark ocean as if it were a book of history and prophecy, spelling out their whole lives.

"Do you..."

Blair's hand, which had been still on her husband's chest, began to stroke. "Hm?"

"Do you... do you think that if Nate had been in love with you instead of Serena, we'd be here?"

She hesitated. He knew she wasn't used to him expressing his insecurities aloud, not even to her.

"Where is this coming from, Chuck?"

"I..." He trailed off. "Being here brings back all these memories. All those years of you being with Nate. And then the last time I summered here, you came back with that duke..."

"Only because you didn't come to Tuscany," she said smoothly. "Chuck, I've been in love with you for what seems like forever. I know that I ran from it at first, but once I knew, I was sure..."

"You were sure I'd hurt you, you mean. Which I did. Again and again, until you couldn't help but try and move on." Chuck's tone was flat, dull.

Blair sat up. Her small hand cupped his chin gently. Turned him to face her.

"Oh, my love," she whispered. "How can I make you understand? The reason why you had the power to hurt me so much in the past is because you're everything to me. I think... I must have fallen in love with you a long time before I realized it."

"This past year. Everything we've been through. I thought I'd broken you. I thought I'd broken it..."

"Our love?"

"Our love."

"But that's impossible, Chuck. God knows we have both tried to get over each other. We've tried to move on with other people, tried to be friends, tried to be enemies, tried everything we could not to be together. We hurt each other again and again. But it didn't work and never will." She kissed his chest gently, right over his heart. "We're stuck together, you and me."

"Maybe you don't want to be stuck with me."

In response, her fingers intertwined with his, and she used her other hand to enclose them. Her thumb traced the wedding band he never took off, gleaming as brightly as the one she wore along with the Harry Winston ring.

"You know, it's only been a little while, but I like being stuck. Especially if it means being stuck with you, Chuck... actually, I love it. I love being in love with you." She raised his hand to her lips. "Speaking of sticking, I've got another fantasy I haven't told you about..."

The one thing Chuck loved most about Blair's blushes, other than how rare they were, was that it was never just her face. He could see this one all the way to the swells of her breasts. She hadn't even blushed while describing her horseback riding on the beach fantasy!

Angst and woes forgotten for the time being, his cock began to stiffen in anticipation. This was going to be good...

"Well, well, well, Mrs. Bass. Tell me more."

XOXOXOXOXO

"I'd like for you to sail to Nantucket with me this weekend," said Nate to Serena the next day as they strolled down East Hampton's Main Street. Serena was enjoying a serving of chocolate gelato, and occasionally would shove a bite into her boyfriend's mouth.

"Sure, that sounds good," she said happily. Being with Nate was just so easy, she thought. Wonderful sex, understanding and supportive guy who was uncomplicated and fun, someone she'd grown up with and whose world she shared. Why had she ever thrown away what they'd had?

She didn't even allow herself to think about that other person who'd caused her so much pain and sadness. That person wasn't interested in her happiness, only in thinking that he was somehow superior to her. That person made her feel ashamed to be who she was. Her Natie would never do that to her. He loved her for being Serena. Unlike...

"I was telling Grandfather that we're together. He says he'd really like for me to bring you to see the family."

"Will your mother be there?"

"Yeah, but who cares? I don't."

Serena grinned. "Remember that time I ran through the sprinklers in that white t-shirt, and your mother came out of her rose garden? If looks could kill, I would have died six years ago!"

"How could I forget?" he said, lacing his fingers through hers. "I replayed that image over and over in my head..."

"You had a girlfriend!"

"...until that night after the Shepherd wedding."

Neither said anything as they headed off Main Street. But Serena squeezed his hand.

"I don't know if I'll ever get over it, Nate."

"Get over what?" Tugging on her hand, he pulled her close so that she doubled back. All the better for her to be in his arms.

"The way we began. That we couldn't just tell Blair..."

"We couldn't have, not back then. Things were so different."

"It would've been OK. She had Chuck."

"Not back then... not like later... and definitely not like now." His blue eyes were earnest. "It would've destroyed her, S. It's better this way."

Her eyes dropped to the ground. "Yeah, I know. All the same... there's so many memories here... it was always you and her. I never really thought it could be you and me."

"Really? Because I've thought about nothing else since we were fifteen, Serena. Even when I shouldn't have."

Serena smiled up at him. Glowing.

"All we have is now, S. We can't go back, and why would you want to? This is the way it's supposed to be." His lips brushed hers. "We're the way it's supposed to be."

She took the opportunity to kiss him deeply, right in the middle of the street. Then:

"I can't wait to see your family again, Nate... hey, you said that your mom's in Nantucket already?"

"Yeah, she left this morning."

"Then we have your house all to ourselves. Again."

"That's right, we do. Finally."

"Well, there's a certain lawn that's due for a watering. Why don't I put on my favorite t-shirt again and give that memory of yours a happy ending?"

Nate whistled, marveling at his girlfriend. "As long as you don't wear a bra. Or a bikini."

"Who says I'm wearing one now?"

His gaze flew over to her dress, then to her beautiful face.

"Damn. I love the summer."

XOXOXOXOXO

"I don't think I'm ever going to move again," said Blair at the same moment, feeling like a complete libertine. She couldn't help but remember one of her very worst Hamptons experiences from when she was very little, perhaps three or four, before she met Chuck and Serena and Nate. It was back when her parents were younger and still around more, and her father spoiled her completely.

Eleanor had dressed her carefully in a beautiful white sundress, shaped like an old-fashioned pinafore. Harold had taken her up to the Main Street, and because the day was hot, he'd bought her a popsicle. It was almost the Fourth of July, so it had been one of those red, white, and blue bomb pops. She remembered walking back to their summer home, swinging one hand in her father's as she skipped along, using the other to savor the cool treat.

She remembered her mother's screams. Eleanor had screamed as if little Blair had been covered in blood, not sugar syrup. Both father and daughter had received quite a scolding. And Harold's gentle admonitions hadn't been enough to stop Blair's tears.

That was the last time she'd ever eaten a popsicle.

Until now.

If Eleanor could see her, she would have died on the spot... but thankfully, she was an adult, her mother was an ocean away, and her improper appearance just then was only for her husband's eyes.

Chuck couldn't stop looking at his wife's panting, prone form on their shared bed. Her glossy brown hair was in complete disarray, a wild nest haloing her head. Her face was flushed, and her lips bee-stung from too much kissing. The rest of her body had been kissed, licked, gently bitten...

...and was covered in red, blue, and clear popsicle residue. The expensive sheets were also stained bright pink and baby blue from the juices of the popsicles that they'd used to play. Here and there, random popsicle sticks were flung on the sheets and on the floor around the bed.

"Exhausted already, Waldorf?" Chuck rasped, clearly out of breath, yet managing a wolfish grin. "The day is young... and we haven't even gotten to the Klondike bars yet... or the..."

Blair brought a sticky hand up to his neck. "What did I tell you? I'm not just Waldorf anymore... and is that amusement I see in your eyes? You don't get to judge me, Bass!"

"I never do," he drawled, cracking a grin as he traced her curves with lazy fingers. "Especially since I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of this particular fantasy..."

"Oh, you've enjoyed them all, Chuck. And I'd say that you got off easily today," she said. "Especially since the fantasy involved an actual ice cream truck..."

"Hey, I downloaded the Mister Softee theme song," he protested. "That's going to be in my iTunes history forever."

"Yeah, but you didn't keep the paper hat on!"

"Didn't I? I seem to recall you making short work of that within the first few minutes... right before you..."

She smacked him with a pillow. "Details!"

Before she could blink, he had her pinned to the ruined bed. Sweaty, sticky skin stuck together.

"You aren't the only one with fantasies, Blair..."

They were too far apart. Using his shoulders as leverage, she leaned up into the kiss so that they were closer than close.

"Mmm. Intriguing. Tell me more."

"Well, they aren't as exotic or as creepy as my wife's..."

"Shut up!"

"But... perhaps I've imagined you dancing for me again at Victrola. With no one around," his hands trailed over her skin, "so you can dance for just me."

"Aw, that's sweet!" Her lips touched the corner of his mouth. "Chuck Bass, my romantic man..."

"And then you come over to the sofa in VIP, drop to your knees, and suck me dry."

Her eyebrow quirked. "Well, that was to the point... but, I must admit, is not dissimilar to my office fantasy. I'm sure a mutually agreeable arrangement could be reached. Go on?"

He reached around to hook her thigh over his hip.

"In the Bass vault, late at night. Flameless candles. On a pile of money..."

"Wait, we've done that. Monte Carlo... oh, that's good," she murmured, enjoying the feel of him, the tip of his cock spreading her entrance. It hadn't been ten minutes (maybe even just five?) since she'd been filled last, but her body was applauding his return even in her ultra ravished state.

"Monte Carlo was chips. This..." he thrust in, hard, and started to move, "would be cold... hard... cash."

Blair couldn't even say anything for the next while. All she could do was feel. The sensation of their skin sticking together only seemed to heighten the pleasure. She loved the feel of him, the heft and weight of him, the scent and the taste and the savor of him... he was wonderful.

What she didn't understand was why he couldn't get enough of her. She knew she was attractive, but wondered whether Chuck was selectively blind where she was concerned. The man never seemed to get tired of her. What gave?

She didn't say anything in their shared bath, nor when they finally managed to get dressed so that the room could be cleaned and the bed changed.

After a light repast, they were back on the beach together. (This time, Chuck didn't forget the blanket. Or his sunblock, either. Blair also insisted on a large umbrella.)

She slathered the lotion on him, then handed it to him so that he could do her back. But when his hands began to slide under her halter top, she put her hands on his to stop him.

"Chuck, I need to know something. And I need you to answer me honestly. Don't spare my feelings at all."

"What is it?"

"What do you see in me?"

"Everything," he answered without hesitation. "Absolutely everything."

"Because you act like I'm just..."

"The most beautiful woman ever to draw breath."

"And my body is like..."

"My playground. My wonderland. My obsession."

Her eyes darkened, and a little color rose in her cheeks.

"I'm too pale."

"Your skin is the softest, silkiest thing I've ever touched."

"My breasts are too small."

"Sweetest I've ever tasted. And anything more than a handful is a waste. Gaudy."

A knowing blush, then a futile attempt to be right. "My arms and my legs are too short! My hands and feet are too little! And my hips are too big!"

"Your arms and your legs wrap around me perfectly. And I love your hands, your feet..." he sat up, removed her Chanel sandal, and traced her instep. "Each toe..." he kissed them, one by one, and she lifted up a hand to push him away, giggling... all the better for him to capture it in his. "Each finger," he said, touching his lips to each one for emphasis, "especially the one that wears my rings. And as for that ass..."

She shook her head, pulling her hand away to hit him playfully. "Chuck, you're blind! We've known each other too long. I don't even think you can see me any more."

"I see you perfectly. I see a woman who men all over the world would kill to call their own. I see a woman who was courted by a British aristocrat and married a prince. I see a woman who every single fucking man I know has wanted for himself over the years. Although, who can blame them?

"I've always seen you, Blair. I can't remember a time when I didn't. I was just too much of a coward to let you see me..."

"And oh, do I ever," she said softly. "You know, before we left for our honeymoon, I overheard one of Mom's friends telling her I was obsessed with you, and she was frightened for my future happiness. She was at the wedding to Louis, heard the Gossip Girl blast and video, and followed our story in the press. Said that it wasn't good for any woman to love her husband too much."

"What did your mother say?" Chuck didn't care much about public opinion. He was who he was, and refused to change that. But he cared very much what his mother-in-law thought of him. Her approval had been hard fought and won.

"She told the woman to stop the nonsense, and also pointed out that the bitch certainly didn't give two shits about my future happiness. And she told her that Cyrus is of the opinion that what the two of us share is a grand passion. Of course, hearing such an old fashioned term makes me feel as if I should be wearing a corset and hoopskirts..."

"And a bodice, of course. Supposed to rip it," said Chuck, yawning, laying back on the blanket and bringing her to lie down with him.

"Actually, in most of those trashy novels, the uncouth hero gets impatient with the breathless heroine's complicated fastenings, unsheathes his knife," said Blair matter-of-factly, "and slashes her clothing to ribbons."

"Hmm... another fantasy of yours, kitten?"

She examined her nails, her tone nonchalant. "Oh... I'm just saying."

"Liar. Your eyes don't match your mouth right now." Smirk. "Knife play. I think we've tried..."

"No. Because I'd remember if we had."

A cluck of the tongue. "And no one ever believes that I'm the conservative one in this marriage. If they only knew how kinky their Queen truly was..."

"Shh. It'll be our little secret, Bass."

And there in the warm afternoon sun beneath their umbrella, they dozed. Perfectly content.

XOXOXOXOXO

That Saturday morning, Nate was up early. He was in the best mood ever. Reluctant to leave Serena's side, he nonetheless knew that he had to hide the ring that he'd slide on her finger during the boat ride over to Nantucket.

He quickly showered and shaved, splashing on a bit of the aftershave that Serena said she loved on him. Once he was dressed, he saw her stirring... and went into the drawer quickly to find the Vanderbilt diamond that he'd stashed away there a few days before.

It wasn't there.

Nate searched the drawer for about five minutes. At minute six, all the shuffling woke Serena up. She padded over to him, completely nude, and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"Good morning! Mmmm... you smell great," she said, kissing his neck, then burying her nose there. "How come you didn't wake me? It would've been nice to shower together."

"I... um, something at the Spectator," he said lamely, turning around to kiss her properly. "I need to make a few phone calls, anyway. Why don't you go ahead and take your shower?"

"Only if you join me..."

He lengthened their next kiss, deepened it... wanting very much to just accept her offer and forget about it...

"Next time."

"You're no fun," she teased. But she sashayed to the bathroom anyway. Soon, Nate heard the shower running.

He then began a frantic search. Where on earth had he stowed that ring? Drawers were pulled out and overturned, the sheets were pulled up, and clothes were flung out of his closet. Nate then crawled beneath the bed, stared at the rugs, even peeked out the door and stared at the hallway...

"My God, it looks like a tornado hit here!" exclaimed Serena, sliding a sundress over her head. "Nate, what's wrong?"

"I... can't find something important," he said dully, feeling like an idiot.

"What is it? I can help you find it..."

"That's okay," he said. "We're going to be late if we don't leave for the helipad now. Got to get to the docks so we can sail in."

Serena nodded. Then:

"Nate?"

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to let you know that this summer has been amazing."

Nate looked her over. The girl of his dreams. His fantasy. Everything he'd told himself that he always wanted... now all his.

"This summer isn't over yet," he said with a wicked smile, sauntering over. Pulling off his shirt as he went.

Serena grinned. "But I thought you said we had to..."

"We can do fast, you know... just as well as we do slow."

And right there and then, he proved it to her.

XOXOXOXOXO

Two and a half weeks later, the Non-Judging Breakfast Club's Hamptons summer came to an end. It culminated with Chuck and Blair renewing their vows in the gardens of the Bass summer home, with Cyrus officiating, and a glorious outdoor reception to follow.

Blair wore a beautiful white Waldorf original gown, designed and stitched with precision by her mother Eleanor. It hadn't been removed from its dress form upon completion, but instead was immediately flown from Paris to New York along with the Roses and the Waldorfs on the Bass jet standing up in the aisle. It would be the most traditional of her bridal gowns, but her mother took care to outdo the dress she'd worn eight months before. This dress clung to her lovely shape, but had lacy sleeves reminiscent of Duchess Kate's famous gown. It also had a fabulous train that would look gorgeous along the marble seashell-lined path.

Chuck, for his part, cut a dashing figure in a Dior original suit, white with ivory lapels, with a pale lavender bowtie and pocket square. Serena's dress was also lavender, a filmy, floaty, sea-foamy confection that Eleanor had created for her daughter's best friend. Nate wore the same color in his tie, but his suit was pale gray linen.

As Chuck and Blair exchanged their vows again, they only had eyes for each other. The love between them was radiant, and evident for all to see. It was as if they were the only two people in the world.

Nate and Serena, standing up with them, smiled at each other. Thinking that this would be them very soon.

But Nate hadn't yet found the ring. It wouldn't be recovered until the fall, when his room was being shut down for the season, and one of the maids found it gleaming between the dresser and the wall. Fortunately, the young lady was honest, and gave it to the lady of the house... who then promptly shut it away in the family safe without saying a word to her son.

It would be some time before the ring appeared again... then slid onto the finger of a woman out of duty, not love. Unlike Blair's beloved Harry Winston diamond, the Vanderbilt ring, for Nate, was destined to be a symbol of obligation. In the future, his true bride would never wear it, becoming the first woman of that famous family lineage to shun the ring of power, wealth, and social position. But that is another tale for another time.

Besides, Serena van der Woodsen wasn't much for diamonds, anyway. She shone brightly enough on her own.

When Chuck kissed his bride, it was so sweet and chaste that Nate and Serena looked at each other. Serena mouthed what they were both thinking: "yeah, right!" They then followed the happy couple back down the aisle, arm in arm.

The reception was in full swing when Serena found herself face to face with someone she hadn't seen for a long time. She was talking with someone Serena didn't know, but who looked very familiar.

"KC," said Serena. "It's good to see you again."

"Likewise, Serena. This is one of my new clients, Ben Whitshaw..."

"Oh, my goodness!" she grinned. "I've seen you in Bright Star... and you're going to be in Skyfall, right? I love your work."

"Thanks," he said, as the publicist moved aside to greet another guest. "KC tells me you're in the industry yourself."

"Well, I... I'm not exactly in yet," Serena admitted. "I've done some jobs here and there behind the scenes. But I'm writing a screenplay. As is half of Hollywood, I'm sure."

"You'd be surprised. I just had lunch in Sydney last month with Jane Campion," he said. "She's been talking about the state of the industry, and seems interested in looking at scripts. I could put you in touch with her... she directs mainly romances, is that what you're working on? A love story?"

Serena's bright smile faded. A shadow crossed her face.

"I... guess you could call it that."

"Makes sense. I saw you up there with that guy. Must be nice to find the one."

"Yeah," Serena murmured. "It is."

On the other side of the party, Nate was looking around, trying to catch sight of Serena in the crowd. He saw a glint of golden blonde hair, moved toward it...

...until the girl turned around.

"Hi, Nate. Long time no see."

His heart sank. Nate wondered if his carefree, bed-hopping past would always catch up with him.

"Hi, Lola."

XOXOXOXOXO

It was Blair's turn to stand at the balcony of their bedroom, still in her bridal gown, looking out at the moonlit waves. A small, distinct blue box was in her hand. But her thoughts, for once in her life, weren't tumultuous or turbulent.

She felt peaceful.

Chuck gave her that peace. Who would have ever thought? Her dangerous, incorrigible bad boy had become her rock, her center. Their great, crazy love had become a stable, true one. The calm after the storm. Love after war.

Blair thought of all the many Hamptons summers past, most of them spent with not only Nate and Serena, but of course, him. Chuck. Her handsome devil who drove her crazy. How could she have not seen him, really seen him, until she stepped onto that burlesque stage on that long-ago night? How could she not have seen how perfect he was?

She told him on the day she married another man that she loved every part of him, and on that day when she lied to herself so much about everything, at least that was the truth. She loved his chiseled face, his sensual lips, his piercing eyes, every hair on his chest, and every step of his swagger. She loved his hips and his thighs and his waist and his...

She fanned herself with a hand. God, she loved the way he loved her. She'd never tire of it. It would never get old.

But what they had wasn't just physical. What they had was all-consuming. She loved how intense he was about her, her well-being, her health, her state of mind, her happiness. How observant he was, noticing everything, anticipating her desires and needs. How patient he'd grown, giving her room to soar and a safe place to land. And especially how selfless he'd become, willing to give her up to another man, another life, even if it killed him, just so that she could be happy.

The door closed behind her, and her stomach fluttered a little. Crazy that someone I've known forever can give me butterflies. Must have caught them from him. The butterflies increased the closer he got... first, at the sound of his footsteps, next, at the scent of him, and finally, his body heat as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"It's done," he said.

"The house is ours?"

"Ours. I have the deed. Bart just headed back to the city."

Her eyes closed. "We should head back at the end of the week, too. Still have the parties at the Palace and Victrola to put the finishing touches on. Then, it's back to reality."

"We'll return in due course. Until then... I have something to show you."

"Me first." She turned around in his arms, and pressed a box into his hand.

"What is it?"

"Another wedding gift for my wonderful husband."

Chuck opened the box from Tiffany's. Inside rested two black diamond cufflinks, set in platinum. He was surprised. "Very nice, Blair."

"The inscription's hard to see, but see if you can read it."

Pulling the cufflinks out of the box, he peered closely and read. "Three words, eight letters..."

She took the other one from him. "...I love you."

"Just like our rings," Chuck smiled the smile he saved just for her, when they were private.

"Just like all of our things," she whispered, pulling him close. "So what do you have to show me?"

"A surprise..."

Her eyes lit up with pleasure, and a slow smile spread across her features. "Another one? Chuck..."

"Come, it's in the library. It's all set up for your approval."

He didn't have to say another word. They raced down the hall in all their wedding finery, acting for a change like the twenty-one year olds they were, barely out of their teens, young and beautiful and very much in love.

Blair flung open the double doors of the library. Raced over to the low table...

"Oh, wow... Chuck, is this your new project?"

"Not just mine. Ours."

Her eyes flickered over the construction model. The building was clearly prewar, but had been stripped down to the bare bones... Blair thought she remembered it, right on Park Avenue... it had been under construction for ages. It was a multistory building, but only the top floors were lit. She peered inside...

"Wait, Chuck... is that a replica of my Marie Antoinette? And... wait... I recognize a lot of these things... are you building a hotel and naming it after me?"

"No, but good idea. Guess again."

"I... oh, my God! Chuck, I thought you said we'd go house hunting! I didn't know you were actually going to build a place for us!"

"Well, Blair, if you marry a baker, you get free cake... you're the daughter of a designer, so you have custom couture... but now, you're the wife of a man in construction and real estate, so you get to have the home of your dreams..."

She sprang on him, kissing him happily.

"Wait a minute. You didn't want me to have a say on location?"

"I did, but we had to move fast. This building was on the market for perhaps an hour and a half, and I was one of seven bidders. It's perfect, Blair, you know it is... has a view of the park, plenty of natural light, a terrace, all the space we'd ever want, everything. We'll handpick the other tenants, and have peace and quiet. It's not a hotel, it's not a place that someone else designed... we can raise our family here."

"What about a townhouse?" said Blair. "I thought you hated living in high-rises, Chuck. You always envied Nate's place growing up..."

"It's not the skyscrapers I hated, you know that," he protested. "It was living in a hotel. Without a family. Besides," his gaze heated up, filled with wicked promise, "you know how much I love rooftops."

"I do," Blair cooed. "Well, Bass, as long as I have say over all the interior design details..."

"You'll have every say."

"Then I approve," she said softly. "This is the one."

"No," he corrected, kissing her lips. "You are."

~the end~

A/N: Wow, this was the fluffiest, smuttiest fic I've written for Gossip Girl yet. I think I have a toothache!

"The One" is not really my usual fare, but I had a good time writing it nonetheless. I'm a hardcore Chair shipper, but my other GG ships are Derena and Nenny, so writing Serenate was a real challenge for me. I love the ship and their history, but it's much easier for me to write them as friends. I hope that Ellen and my other SN friends enjoyed this, for what it's worth.

If some of the details here seem obscure or confusing, especially at the end, that's because this fic is AU, set in the P&Cverse, not in canon. Like everyone else in fandom, I've been spoiled by what we know, so a few of those details have shown up here. For the AU, I'd provide the relevant background, but it's perhaps easiest to trawl through Pomp if you're confused. All of my stories so far except for "Best Laid Plans" are set in that storyverse; after December 17, I'll likely do some post-canon one shots once we know everything.

XOXO, Dr. Holland