Seek and You Shall Find

Warning: Future fic. Spoilers through 3X22, but goes AU after that.

Pairings: Chuck/Blair

Summary: AU future fic. Post-3x22. "You have too much baggage for my liking, Chuck Bass." He decides that if love didn't exist, then they didn't exist, and despite the years he's spent frying his brain with the strongest, most expensive drugs, he knows she's the most real thing to touch his life.

Author's Note: I know I promised a follow-up to "We All Fall Down," but I don't think anyone can write fluff (for a while, at least) after reading Canadian recaps of the finale. This is my feeble attempt at closure and the faint beginnings of a possible reconciliation, because C/B treatment in the last episode feels to me like a bad, bad break-up.

There is a Tuscan wedding, a dinner celebration, and a brunette with a mischievous glint in her eye. He catches her staring, and the woman raises her glass to him in acknowledgement. Within a few minutes, he saunters towards her, having found his catch for the night.

"Chuck Bass," the brunette breathes, sizing the man in front of her from head to toe. "Back from a seven-year disappearing act."

He pretends not to be caught off-guard. "Have we met before?"

The woman laughs, tilting her head back. "Not quite." She reaches into her purse and pulls out a small bag of blow. "I say let's take this time to get familiar."

They share identical smirks and leave the wedding party just as the newly-married couple is about to cut the cake. Chuck thinks Richard, the groom and his associate at Bass Industries, would understand.

...

The girl gives decent head, and her stash is deliciously potent. After doing his nth line that night, Chuck lies back on the couch in the woman's hotel room, sated and high like a kite.

The woman steps out from the bathroom, her hair mussed, clad in only her bra and panties. With the world spinning around him, Chuck can almost pretend it's her when he squints.

He blames it on the setting where they met (it reminds him of missed helicopter rides and a summer of what-ifs), the quality coke, and the sudden rush of nostalgia. But before he can stop himself, he says, "We should get married."

She responds by laughing in his face, and the humiliation he instantly feels is enough to kill his buzz.

"You should be so lucky," he spits out, his words laced with venom. "I'm Chuck Bass."

"Exactly. You have too much baggage for my liking, Chuck Bass" the woman replies.

His eyebrows furrow. Why did she seem to know so much about him?

"Besides," the woman continues. "You don't even know me."

"Who are you then?" Chuck seethes.

"The ghost of Christmas past," she says with a wink, as she throws his discarded pants at him.

He's scheduled to head back to Hong Kong where he runs Bass Industries remotely, but he stops at Vienna and finds himself in another bar. Tonight he has a busty blonde with piercing blue green eyes for company, but he doesn't even take a moment to look down her shirt.

"And then the bitch says, I secretly hate women, and for that reason, I'm going to end up alone," Chuck says, taking a sip of his scotch.

Serena Van Der Woodsen, still turning heads at 26, rolls her eyes at her stepbrother. "That's what you get for asking some random hooker to marry you. I love that she said no though, I think I'd get along with her," she remarks sardonically.

"She said no one would want to marry me. Who does she think she is? She doesn't know shit about me." Chuck replies.

Serena raises her eyebrows. "Yes, because you're such a bastion for love and commitment."

"Et tu, Brutus?" Chuck says sarcastically.

"We're not cut out for those things, Chuck. We're too rotten, and we bring the people that we love down," Serena says in resignation.

"Still sulking about Nathaniel? Or is it Carter now?"

Serena shakes her head.

"Humphrey?"

"None of the above," Serena dismisses. "Look Chuck, admit it or not, it seems like that girl really affected you. If you're going to play let's-see-what-I-do-wrong-in-relationships-by-revisiting-the-past, I suggest you talk to people you've actually been in relationships with. How exactly did you think I would help you?"

"If anything, I knew you wouldn't hold back," Chuck says with a smile.

Serena pauses thoughtfully. "True."

"You want some answers?" she finally says after falling silent for a few seconds. "I think it's pathetic that even your random hook-up refuses to marry you, but it's even sadder that you asked. You and I, we're beyond saving."

"Nice pep talk, sis," Chuck says grimly, and Serena merely shrugs in reply.

"Blair got out just in time, don't you think?" she says.

He winces, but gamely clinks glasses with Serena.

He tracks down Jenny Humphrey in London and decides to schedule a detour. He courses an invitation to coffee through his secretary, but when Jenny refuses, he calls her himself.

She sounds tired on the phone, and expectedly stand-offish. After some prodding, she relents and finally accepts his invitation. Ever the gentleman, Chuck makes her wait half an hour before showing up.

"What is this about, Chuck?" Jenny asks, visibly annoyed.

"Would you believe I'm going through a soul-searching phase?" Chuck answers in jest.

"My boyfriend's expecting me back in our apartment soon, so you'll have to hurry this up. I don't have time for your games," Jenny says sternly.

Chuck smiles lecherously. "Would you like me to give you a ride back? I'm sure your boyfriend would love to meet the guy who took your..."

"If you try to finish that sentence, I'm leaving."

Chuck raises his hands in mock surrender, but Jenny remains unamused.

"I'm appalled that you still take what happened that night so lightly," Jenny bites out, crossing her arms in front of her protectively.

"To my credit, I did manage to find candles that night despite the short notice," Chuck replies huskily.

"Damn it Chuck, grow the fuck up!" she screeches, drawing curious glares from the other people in the café.

"Language, Jennifer," Chuck chides. He thinks maybe it was a mistake to find her.

Jenny closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "I spent years watching you operate. Each time you'd feel like crap, you find a random girl to sleep with, as if sex could make your problems go away, or make yourself feel a little bit more whole. I was at the lowest point of my life when I slept with you. I thought I would feel better after, but it only managed to make things worse. I've wished a hundred times I could take that night back, but I can't."

"Spare me the 'Save Your V-Card' PSA, Jenny, I didn't come here for that," Chuck says angrily. He refuses to let her undo the last seven years. He's worked too hard to forget everything. To forget her.

"We both know what we did was a mistake, but you've never shown any remorse," Jenny continues. "You didn't stick around long enough to watch how our mistake ruined other people's lives."

He should get up and leave. He didn't sign up for this conversation.

"You pitted Lily against my dad because they both had to choose sides. And Blair..." Jenny's eyes welled with tears.

"If you made her feel half of what I feel when I'm with my boyfriend," Jenny says softly, "then I apologize for getting in the way."

He would trade the world to feel a smidgen of what he'd felt when he was with Blair. Chuck was never a fan of delusions though, he knows it's too late.

"I won't ever be able to make peace with her, but you're here," Jenny continues. "So for the record, I'm sorry."

She wipes the tears from her cheeks and grabs her purse. "Goodbye, Chuck."

He waves her away dismissively as she gestures towards the door.

Fuck. When did the mood turn so heavy?

He lands in Amsterdam to find Georgina Sparks partying with some locals. He pulls her away for some private time in a corner of a seedy club, both of them too inebriated to mind.

He tells her about his hook-up in Tuscany, and his previous meet-ups with Serena and Jenny. When he finishes, Georgina gulps down her drink and says, "You're an idiot, Bass."

"Tell me something I don't know," he slurs.

"I thought you were looking for a quick fuck, not talk schmaltzy feelings. You can't get any valid relationship insights from someone you slept with at 12," Georgina huffed.

"Point taken."

"But for the record, you shouldn't get married," Georgina offers.

"Excuse me?"

"You have no sense of commitment. You're too much of a hedonist to ever be committed to anyone or anything. No judgment, Chuck, I'm just telling it like it is. The minute things fall apart, you pull away and look for instant gratification elsewhere. That's just how you are."

Chuck falls silent. Trust Georgina to make the most sense while plastered and high on hashish. He lights a cigarette, but she steals it away and takes a long drag.

"You don't give a flying fuck whether you're the marrying type or not; you're just pissed because people are calling you out on your baggage. If you want to get over this, I suggest you track down your baggage in Paris and talk to her."

He pauses to consider. "You think her warden would approve?"

"Last I heard, Archibald's busy campaigning back in New York with their kid," she says deviously. "But if you do see our Golden Boy, tell him I'm game for another go-around in Cancun if he is," Georgina says with a smirk.

Chuck shifts in his seat and tries his best to look unaffected. After seven years and a couple of calls to the right people he manages to invite Blair Waldorf to dinner. It's the first time he's laid eyes on her since the fallout with Jenny. On his weaker days he used to imagine how time may have changed her, and yet expectations fail him. Seeing her sitting across him, her hair framing her face in soft waves; he thinks she's never looked more beautiful.

"Let me get this straight – your girlfriend refuses to marry you until you've dealt with past relationship issues?" Blair says primly, after a forkful of her salad.

So he lied. What was he supposed to do, admit that some nameless whore hurt his feelings, so he's out to prove he's over their issues?

He nods and pushes Blair to continue. "I was hoping you could give me insight on how things fell apart with us, and how I can better fit the role of a committed, soon-to-be married man." His mouth twitches. He's finding it hard to keep a straight face.

He watches Blair's forehead wrinkle and fights the urge to reach over and playfully stroke her chin. She was always cute when confused.

"There's no real science to it," she says finally, though she still looks shell-shocked that Chuck of all people was being that guy who calls up exes to rehash the past and ask What does it all mean? "Jack happened, you issued me an ultimatum out of nowhere, and then you slept with Little J."

"In my defense, I was convinced you had given up on us," he drawls. He refuses to play the blame game, especially if it meant he was going to be cast as the bad guy (again).

"I guess if you're going to get married, you'll have to have a bit more faith in people. And learn that some things are worth the wait," she said pensively.

He snorts. "Does Nathaniel buy into that crap?" He doesn't understand why he's acting like an ass – his stomach's been fluttering since she walked into the restaurant and he wants to tell her he's happy to see her – but something about seeing Blair happy without him is triggering his defenses.

Blair rolls her eyes. "How does Nate relate to this? We're friends."

"You have a kid together," he mutters.

"We raise Tristan together, yes, but we're not together." she simply replies. "I still don't see why my life is relevant to this discussion. Weren't we talking about you?"

The last thing he wants is to upset her, so he takes a breath and looks at her square in the eyes. "I'm just looking for some perspective. Do you love Nathaniel?"

If he still had a heart, he thinks the smile she offers him in reply would break it.

"I don't believe in that anymore."

He is stunned by her reply. If Blair freaking Waldorf no longer thinks love is real, who would? "What do you believe in then?" he stammers.

She shrugs. "Companionship, maybe? Love and marriage, they're not for me." She takes a sip of her wine while he fights the urge to chug down the whole bottle.

The restaurant feels smaller all of a sudden, and he feels suffocated. He wants to tell her she shouldn't give up, because if love didn't exist, then nothing would've brought him back from the darkness he settled in after losing his father. If love didn't exist, then they didn't exist, and despite the years he's spent frying his brain with the strongest, most expensive drugs, he's convinced she's the most real thing to touch his life. He thinks he must be the most rotten person in the world to make the staunchest believer of romance and storybook endings give up altogether. He wishes her happiness, however that's achieved.

She notices his eyes cloud with worry and tries to lighten the situation. "Don't get me wrong, I am happy. Tristan's the best thing to happen in my life. And after everything, Nate's proven to be my constant."

"OK! predicts a winter wedding for you and the future Congressman."

"Please," she scoffs. "Gossip Girl had more credence than that magazine."

"Does that mean you oppose their honor of naming you one of the hottest MILFs around?" he jokes weakly.

Her laughter rings in his ears. He wishes he made her laugh more often.

"You're someone's mom now," he says in awe, like he's only come to terms with the fact at that moment.

"And you've become the marrying type," she quips. "Never thought I'd see the day, Bass."

He gets a quick flashback of a ring that sat heavily in his pocket several years back, a misguided stab at forever before getting punched by Dan Humphrey, a dark alley, and a pulsing pain in his stomach. Once upon a time he wanted to become the marrying type, for her. Once upon a time he believed in love, and forever, and happy endings, because he wanted it so badly with her.

His thoughts are interrupted by her phone sounding off, alerting Blair of a new message. "Nate and Tristan's plane just landed. I should go meet them," she says.

He gets up from his chair as she does, getting her clutch and helping her into her coat. "This has been nice. We should do this again, Blair." It's the most sincere thing he tells her the whole night.

She smiles and nods. "Don't be a stranger, you. I better get an invite to your wedding."

They hug awkwardly for a few seconds, and Chuck closes his eyes as he breathes in her scent. She smells like home.

"And for the sanity of those who love you, please don't get yourself shot anymore," she whispers.

He watches her leave and feels a familiar pang in chest, just like how he'd feel each time she'd walk away from him, Once she's out of his periphery, he pulls out his phone and scrolls for a familiar name. "Fuck you," he says through gritted teeth.

From the other end of the line, Georgina cackles maliciously. "Told you you weren't over her."

Author's Note: Thoughts? Please read and review!