A/N - Ok. So. Here is the deal. I've had this brewing in my head for a while, since before they introduced Jack on the show. And thus, the plot will follow what *I* already have planned, not necessarily what happened/played out on the show. SOME of the storylines converges, others do not. Jack dies, yes. But he will still play a pretty prominent role in Chuck and Blair's interactions. So, if you absolutely can not stand that idea, this may not be for you. IT'S DARK. You've been warned. And yes, I know. I suck. Starting something else before I finished up TTE. Which I WILL do, I promise. White Lace is done. Maho will be sporadic. This is super short, just a prologue; it didn't fit with chapter 1 (which is almost done.) Take a look and let me know what you think. :)

Thank you: Catheryne (Nes) who pushed me to persue this, and Ayr, who inspired me to go there. And to Wifey, Court, who inspired the title.

darlking: Occurring or enacted in the dark.

"This changes nothing."

But that was a lie.

It changed everything.

"It changes everything."

She hated him. Hated his words. Hated the tips of his expensive leather shoes and the gray that was just beginning to weave itself amongst the charcoal at his temples.

She should tell him that he was beginning to look just like his brother had at his age, but he'd only split her lip again, and she was tired of explaining to faceless ER nurses why she'd rather chew on her own flesh rather than her food.

They never believed her anyway.

"Don't act like you didn't ask for it. This is what you wanted." His hand moved to her thigh and she was glad for the years of shoving her fingers down her throat; they had desensitized her gag reflex. The dress he'd forced her to wear was two sizes two small, but it was intricate in its simplicity and she'd hate for her stomach bile to ruin it – despite its buyer.

She should tell him to take his hand off of her but she wouldn't. Because he was right. She had asked for this. This was what she wanted. To feel.

Even if it was pain.

"Not here," she told him and his eyes darkened as he grabbed her hand and dragged her from the crowded ballroom. She shook her head quickly and the movement belied her authoritative tone, "Not there either."

"Not here," he palmed her breast forcefully, making the beaded bodice of her dress grate the bare skin he wouldn't let her shield with undergarments and she was glad for the dark cover of the cool night he'd yanked her into. He'd only get aroused more than he already was if he'd seen her flinch in pain.

But darkness didn't muffle sound, and he heard her sharp intake of breath as he ripped the hem of her gown until cool air chilled the apex of her thighs. "Not there," he added, his eyes trained on her exposed curls. And though she knew he couldn't see her clearly through the pitch black surrounding them in the alley outside The Palace, the urge to cover herself was nearly too strong to resist. So instead she told him something she knew would stoke the flames of his desire, his obsession for her.

"The limo."

His eyes nearly rolled back into his head and his hand clamped around hers in a vice grip as he tugged her, with her dress open to the waist and the bodice twisted, toward the idling monster.

From the dark into the light only to be swallowed into darkness once more.

Lynne