It's Not Paris, But It's Enough For Me
(Stay With You)
Summary: Just a Blair/Chuck scene that takes place during Blair Waldorf Must Pie! After Blair leaves Serena and the Humphreys. Because I think Chuck should have been in the episode.
Author's Note: I don't own Gossip Girl or any of the characters, so please don't hurt me. The new title (sorry, I just had to change it) is sort of a reference to the movie Sabrina. Said film was written/directed by Billy Wilder, so it's not mine either. I just wanted to do a one-shot while I was mulling ideas over for my actual story.
Blair stood outside suite 1812 at the close of her long Thanksgiving ordeal, not daring to knock or even breathe. She had promised Serena she would go home and make up with her mother, but she couldn't bear to face her home—so empty ever since her father left—just yet. She knew Eleanor hadn't meant to hurt her own daughter the way she had, and always did, but that woman just couldn't let go of her desperate need for control. It was a neurosis she had passed on to Blair herself, which was partly the reason things had gone so wrong during what should have been a perfect family holiday. Mother and daughter battled desperately to keep their iron grip on any given situation and when Blair lost, she fought back the only way she knew how: by forcing her body to conform to her twisted ideals of order and perfection. How had it come to this again? Right there, staring her coldly in the face, was the reason everything had fallen apart with Nate. She had caged him into her perfect world, pushed him too hard, until he had no choice but to run to the open, freeing arms of her best friend. Maybe if she were fun loving and carefree like Serena, Nate would have stayed and loved her. But she didn't know how to change who she was, so she was forever doomed to be second-best in everyone's eyes—second always to her golden Venus of a best friend, even to her father's French boyfriend. It seemed like no one ever saw her. They were always looking straight past her to someone else.
And yet none of that had a damn thing to do with why she was still here, practically shaking on the other side of Chuck's Palace suite. He's probably not even there, she reminded herself. He's probably downing a Scotch at his father's stuffy Thanksgiving party. It was time to turn around and pretend she was never here. She wasn't broken and lost, searching for comfort in the arms of the least comforting person on the Upper East Side. What could Chuck Bass possibly do for her? Only everything, a voice inside whispered. He was already the one person whose gaze met hers and lingered there, searching for no prize beyond the sparkle in her eyes. He had been providing her with his full attention since they were children, and if ever he was distracted by Serena Van der Woodsen's blonde tresses, his eyes would always return to her—to Blair. And he had been there for her both times she needed him most, in spite of her disdain and half-hearted protests. He had told her he had butterflies…butterflies! She wondered if Nate had ever felt butterflies, but quickly pushed the thought out of her mind. It only brought up images of Serena, anyway. The way he had watched her dance at the burlesque club, his eyes brimming over with pride, lust, maybe love? That gaze that bore into her, burned her skin. It made her feel a new sense of control, bringing her a kind of power she had never believed herself capable of possessing. God, it had felt so good to feel wanted. She didn't know exactly how she felt about him but right now all she wanted was to hear him speak, to feel his touch…
She finally gathered up her courage and knocked twice, sharply, waiting with baited breath. Seconds that felt like hours passed and, upon hearing his smooth breathing on the other side, she let out a sigh of relief. The door, however, did not open. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't seen Chuck since the morning of her birthday, when she had unceremoniously booted him out of Kati's brother's apartment and made him promise once again to say nothing to no one. He had left, glowering angrily, without another word. Was he still angry now? What would she do if he refused to open the door? She absolutely could not go home. As crazy as it was, she needed to see him. Thankfully, she heard the door unlock and bit her lip in anticipation of what she would say. The door remained unopened, yet she heard his voice—further away now than his breath had previously been—carelessly call out, "Door's always open for you, Waldorf."
She kept inside the smile those words threatened to bring to her lips, so close were all of her unspoken hopes to being answered by that one sardonic statement. All of her bubbly thoughts burst, though, the minute she walked through the threshold and into the room. Chuck was lounging on his king-size bed, of course, with an ice pack perched below his left eye. He was nursing a glass of Scotch and what was apparently a rather fresh wound to his face and ego. She closed her eyes and sighed, debating whether to ask some questions or offer some comfort, just as his voice once again filled the room with that characteristic pride and smarm. "I guess the third time really is a charm, huh? You've waited long enough to come back for more."
There was enough bitterness in the remark that she felt compelled to retaliate, but she wasn't really in the mood for a battle of wits today. "You're truly heinous, Bass. I don't even know why I'm in this den of sin."
"So it's not because you missed me? You didn't decide I was maybe worth more than a little revenge sex?"
Blair opened her mouth, but couldn't tell if she was planning on denying the accusation or merely accepting it, so she closed it again. Yes, she had missed him. It had been at least a week since she had last spoken to him, and she was for the first time realizing how big of a role he played in her life. But that wasn't what was torturing her right then. He had sounded almost hurt when he spat out the words "revenge sex," and she might have believed it if there was ever a world in which Chuck Bass could be hurt or even fazed. She had, just that morning, gleefully informed Serena that she'd slept with Chuck out of spite—but had it really been revenge? She was certain Nate didn't cross her mind even once during either time. She had thought of nothing but Chuck's breath on her neck, his fingers grazing her skin, his body moving against hers. But she still wanted to be back with Nate, even now, didn't she? Avoiding the swirling confusion in her mind, she turned her focus instead to the bruise under his eye and approached him cautiously. "What happened?" She asked, just as if it were any other question.
"Bart's dinner was getting a little too stifling, so I set out to find my own entertainment," he shrugged. His face was stony and impassive, but his eyes always told tales of him. She silently shook her head and sat down beside him on the bed, gingerly removing the ice and examining the bruise with her fingers as gently as she could. He didn't even flinch, because even though it hurt, her touch was more soothing than ice ever could be.
"Why do you pretend it doesn't happen?" She asked him in a tired way. This wasn't the first time she had seen him like this, not by a long shot, but it was one of those things you just didn't talk about.
He regarded her for a moment before letting a complacent smile play upon his lips. She thought about kissing him. "Same reason you keep the water running in the bathroom and stuff all those tic-tacs in your purse, I suppose."
She turned away in embarrassment. "You know?" It was all she could say in reply.
He put a hand on her shoulder, as if to say he didn't judge. "I know everything, Blair. You know that." She nodded. She wanted to ask if Nate knew, but why bother? He probably never cared enough to notice. Her eyes surveyed the room in order to avoid looking at him. In doing so, they fell upon a pack of brightly colored DVDs lying on the coffee table, wrapped in a bow that much resembled a headband she might wear. She went over to pick them up and heard Chuck groan behind her. It was a 3-pack of Audrey Hepburn films: Breakfast at Tiffany's, Roman Holiday and Sabrina. The bow was, in fact, a pink Burberry headband.
She turned back to him with a sweet smile. "For me? Say it isn't so."
"I didn't know when to give it to you, since you didn't call," he mumbled. "I thought about going over tonight to see if you wanted to watch them. You know, in case you got sick of Harold."
That reminded Blair of why she had come to Chuck in the first place, so she settled back onto the bed with the movies in tow. "Daddy couldn't make it." His mouth began forming an apology, so she tried on the headband before he could get it out. Striking a pose, she asked, "How does it look on me?"
"Beautiful." He smiled at her adoringly, before following it up with, "But it'd look even better if it was the only thing on you."
She rolled her eyes and swatted at him playfully, before turning serious for a moment. "I just wanted to ask if I could stay here awhile. Maybe we could watch a movie?"
He didn't even take a second to ponder the question before strolling over to the TV and popping in one of the three. "How does Sabrina sound to you? It's the only one you haven't forced me to watch yet."
Blair agreed enthusiastically, but then bit her lip. The film was about one guy Audrey's character had been in love with all her life who never really cared, and the other she never deigned to notice. It was a little too close to home, but the movie had already started playing and she didn't think it would be wise to explain to Chuck why this might be awkward for them.
The movie played on, and Sabrina was ignored and courted by both men at various intervals. Blair let her head rest on Chuck's shoulder during the romantic parts and let his thumb rub unconscious circles on the back of her hand. She squealed her frustration when Sabrina couldn't make up her mind and smiled at Chuck's nasty comments. At the climax, Chuck apparently couldn't take the suspense anymore. "David's a giant pussy. He doesn't deserve her. He doesn't even love her. Please tell me she ends up with Linus?" Maybe he had already understood the parallels. Chuck was pretty smart when he wanted to be.
"Just watch!" She hissed, while curling up against him and closing her eyes. She memorized every scene in every Hepburn movie—she didn't need to watch.
The movie ended. Chuck smiled triumphantly at Linus scoring the girl. She whispered without thinking, "If any Audrey movie actually represented me, I'd say it was this one." He looked at her intently, his dark eyes filling with surprise. Then they fell together onto the bed, kissing fervently without any strange extenuating circumstances for the first time. It was just as passionate as before, just as hungry and driven, but this time there was something extra. It was comfortable and sweet in the midst of all the hormones. The headband stayed on. She knew he could taste the tic-tacs on her, but she didn't care. She accidentally kissed his bruise a little too hard once or twice, but he didn't even notice. She knew she would regret the words she had spoken sooner rather than later. She knew she would have to return to her apartment and face her mother in a few short hours. But for now, she was content to bask in the glow of this affection. She couldn't remember ever being this happy.