Title: Rules of Engagement

Author: Isabelle

Rating: PG-13 for adult situations

Summary: How Chuck & Blair keep their relationship interesting affects everyone around them.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own Gossip Girl.

Word Count: About 1,000 each

A/N – Special thanks to Tati, my always wonderful Beta. I'm dedicating this to my sick friend Kimmy, who totally deserves a fic after being sick.

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~ High on Vicks ~

Chuck Bass never got sick. Ever. Which was why he refused to go into her room. She was sick (apparently dying), and he was not going in. Not that he could have gone in if he wanted to. The door was barricaded by Dorota, who was a formidable opponent all on her own.

"Don't let him –" A loud sneeze and a cough and some rather disgusted noises interrupted her. " – in my room, Dorota!"

"Yes, Miss Blair." Dorota glared at Chuck, and Chuck calmly walked downstairs, grabbed a heavy chair from the dining room, and dragged it up to her room. Dorota watched him with hawk eyes as he sat down, pulled out his phone and began playing Tetris.

After she was sure he was making no move or counter attack to enter Blair's room, Dorota bustled inside, and he listened intently as Blair whined that her head was exploding and that she was hot. And then cold. And then hot.

"Miss Blair, you must go to doctor!" He heard Dorota chide.

"No! The world cannot see me like this," Blair cried.

"You sick, everyone get sick," Dorota countered.

"I'll be better in the morning. Send him home," Blair demanded, and Chuck knew who the he was and that particular he was not going anywhere any time soon.

Yet, sure enough, Dorota came out once more and glared down at him as if he'd given her precious Miss Blair the cold.

"Go home, Mister Chuck – Miss Blair no see you today," Dorota informed him, and Chuck continued browsing his emails calmly.

"I think I'll have some of that delicious smelling chicken noodle soup you made for Miss Blair, Dorota. Serve me a bowl," He replied, and felt her fume and stomp downstairs.

He quickly texted Blair.

Dorota went 2 get me dinner. Not going ne where. Deal w it.

He felt her sheets rustle inside as her phone rang, and he heard her cough loudly, making him grimace.

Go away. I don't want 2 c u.

He smirked and settled himself into the chair.

Y? I bet u look gorgeous.

He heard her groan and then sneeze and whine to herself.

I hate u.

He raised a brow.

How did u get sick?

He heard her cough loudly.

I don't know, I don't care. Just go away!

He shrugged his shoulders.

Don't worry, I wont go in neways. I'm not getting sick.

She sneezed five times in a row, and she was silent, not answering his text. He waited and then, after a few minutes, he naturally got anxious. Where the hell was that maid? He was not going in there. He had never gotten sick, and he wasn't going to start now.

"Blair?" He asked through the door, knocking softly.

No answer.

"B?" He asked louder. "Hey, you ok?"

She was suspiciously quiet. It was one of two options. One: she was tricking him into going in by making him worried that she had passed out, and he would have to gallantly carry her to the emergency room, their new apparent hangout spot. Or two: she was really sick and genuinely needed him to come check on her.

He didn't debate much further and went in. The curtains were drawn and it smelled like something minty and medicinal. He wrinkled his nose. He was able to detect a huddled mound at the other end of her bed and quickly walked to her.

He knelt down and pulled the sheets back to reveal a nearly unrecognizable Blair. Her nose was red and swollen, her lips were dry, her hair was wet and pasty, and her skin was pale and blotchy. He was astounded. In all his years of watching Blair, she had never looked anything but perfect. Her eyes were closed and as she slowly opened them, they widened slightly when she saw him. She moaned and tried to hide under the covered, but he held them back.

"I got worried, you didn't reply to the text," he said quickly. She covered her mouth when she coughed and glared at him.

"Go away…" She rasped.

"I'm calling a doctor, you look like hell," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks."

He wasted no time and pulled out his cell, called the family doctor that he knew for a fact did home visits and, before she was able to protest, the older man was there. He was rushed out of the room once more by a very angry and slightly grateful Dorota and made to sit in his little chair outside like some sort of southern plantation owner.

Inside, he heard some soft murmuring and some rumbling laughter before the physician walked out.

"Well?" Chuck demanded as he stepped outside. He had a sinking feeling this was something really bad – he had taken nearly thirty minutes! His palms were clammy and his tie itched at his throat, so he tugged at it.

The old man chuckled. "Oh, she'll be fine. Plenty of rest and fluids. If her fever goes up, a nice, cold shower will fix her right up." He patted Chuck on his shoulder. "Don't you worry, son, your girlfriend just has a cold."

"She's not my –"

"They never are." And he winked conspiratorially at Chuck. This bothered him. OK, so she wasn't his girlfriend. But she wasn't a call girl, either. Chuck watched the man descend the stairs and quickly returned to Blair's room. He poked his head in and saw that Blair was now sitting up in loads of silk pillows, turned on her side with her eyes closed. Her hair was combed and pulled back in a ponytail and her face seemed washed. Dorota nodded at him as she bustled out. He carefully sat on the bed and took her in.

"I'm pissed at you, Bass," she murmured, and he could tell she was extremely sleepy and tired.

"Yeah, I know," he said and slowly slid his arm under her head. She cuddled up to him, warming him. She was definitely not a call girl. He wouldn't have allowed anyone else to come this close to him while sick.

"You smell strange," he admitted.

She coughed. "It's the Vicks."

He grabbed the little bottle from her nightstand and wrinkled his nose at it.

"I think this is the source of your sickness," he declared, and she smiled.

He held her head against his chest as she finally went into a fitful sleep. Once he was sure she was asleep, he finally kissed the top of her head.

He didn't realize that he had fallen asleep beside her until he felt a looming presence over him. He snapped open his eyes to find an amused Eleanor Waldorf staring down at him.

He opened his mouth to explain, but she held up her hand.

"Thank you for looking out for my little girl, Charles," Eleanor nodded, and Chuck quickly untangled himself from Blair. Blair, for her part, was dead to the world and went on sleeping but seemed annoyed at the loss of warmth.

"I'll go home now since you're back, Mrs. Waldorf," he said quietly and headed out, mostly to escape that knowing look on Eleanor's face. It was all too much.

It was no surprise that two days later, as he attempted to wake, he thought he was dying. His throat felt raw, his body cold and sporting uncontrollable shivers, and he was coughing.

You see, this is why he was not a fan of girlfriends.

When he didn't leave his room for a day, Lily ventured in and promptly called the doctor. A few hours later, a happy and rejuvenated Blair bounced into his room.

"Go away," he snapped. Then sneezed. Five times.

"Aww! You're sick," she said as she and Serena peered down at him.

"And contagious," Serena snapped and quickly exited the room.

"New rule," he managed. "When one is sick, the other must disappear," he stated.

"Well, considering you broke that very rule two days ago, you now have to pay the consequences," she explained briskly as she took off her coat, rolled up her sleeves, and started pulling him out of bed and towards the shower.

The Vicks was obviously making him high as Chuck at full speed would've caught that one a mile away.

The entire family heard him whine like a child as Blair made him stand under the freezing water, but he forgave her once she settled him back in bed and let him cuddle against her.

She pushed his hair back and kissed his forehead and, without wanting to do it, he sighed contently. "You're a good boyfriend," she murmured against his skin.

That was settled then. He supposed now he was a boyfriend.

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To don't know if I'll do another one as I'm working on another project ;)