Limo Rides and Cab Kisses

Her best friend has morphed into a shrink. She spouts out things like the course of true love never did run smooth and rambles sympathetically that she knows how hard it is to have a broken heart.

"Please, S. My heart's not close to broken, it's barely even dented."

You don't get if it's a shrink thing, but they all seem to nod disbelievingly at her. Dr. Sherman does it too. So she continues by talking about how expressing your feelings is mandatory to healing and to open up since she's your best friend.

You reply by asking her how much this session costs.


Serena tells you that forgiveness is on the road to heaven. You stare as if she's sprouted a halo and feathery wings.

"Did you swallow a bible?"

Your blonde friend blushes devil red and plays with her angel hair nervously.

"I was worried so I started reading one."

You blink confusedly at her and the thought runs through your head that one look at her and the Holy Father would absolve her of anything, bible or not.

"Worried about what?"

Adultery's a sin, she tells you, and you quickly remind her that her relationship with Nate is fake. She shrugs.

"Back to the point, Chuck told me to tell you he's immensely sorry."

You're tempted to pat her on the head like she's a second grade messenger and offer to give her a low sugar, zero calorie lollipop but she's taller than you and you can't really convince yourself that your growth spurts still coming anymore.

So you tell her to inform her step-brother that he's an over-stuffed pig with human reproductive parts.


You're lounging around Serena's room preparing for the White Party when he bursts in. He's wearing a ridiculous white suit with red polka dots.

"Are you marrying Minnie Mouse?"

"Your date looks like the Abominable Snowman." He tells you.

You know that. And he looks pretty damn good and it's partly why you're being so bitchy to him. The other part is the fact that you want to castrate him slowly with no anesthetic but you've got a reputation to maintain so you settle for planning it in your head.

Serena excuses herself under the pretense of finding her date and you swear your glare could have probably fried what was left of her brain.

"You look nice, all dressed up." He smirks.

You can't physically damage his manhood (What or who would the maids and interior designers do in their free times?), so you insult it instead.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you're gay."

"You mean if you didn't do your pre-birthday tango in my pants."

"I'm now pretending that never happened."

His mouth opens and it looks as if he wants to say something important and Blair can sense that it's about to become an episode of Dr. Phil.

But then Eric pops his highlighted head out of the doorway.

"Hey, do you guys know where Serena is?"

You stare at Chuck and he stares at you. You both basically sprint out of the room and in opposite directions, leaving Eric blinking in confusion and wondering if his roots had scared them off.


You turn to face him when your date storms off in a huff. He's watched the whole outburst and you have a feeling that he's dementedly smug. Damn him. He walks slowly over and stops in front of you.

"He meant nothing." You tell him. Just like you, you're tempted to add, but you don't have enough energy to lie that well.

"The interior designer didn't either."

"You still cheated on me."

It's all the same to you now. Serena was supposed to mean nothing to Nate too.

"Technically, we never broke up. So you and that guy….."

Your icy cold glare warns him to stop talking if he ever wants children.

"Look, Blair. I've apologized a thousands times. The least you could do is forgive me." His voice turns pleading, tinged with exasperation.

"Fine." You snap. "Just as friends."

His face relaxes and his lips curl into a smirk.

"I don't think so."

Your nostrils flare and your jaw tightens. You're infuriated and he's enjoying it. You would tell him to go to hell, but he's already on his way.

"It's not on your terms, Bass."

"You're not going to be satisfied with just friends."

He tells you smugly. You find out that you hate him even more because he's got you pinned down to perfection.

"Go fuck yourself." You snarl angrily.

"Wouldn't you rather do it yourself?" He steps closer and you don't back away. You can't.

"Blair, I love you. And I'm pretty damn bad at it, but you love me too."

He grabs your hands and against your will you nod. Is he a mind reader?

"Need a ride?" He asks you gently gesturing to his limo. You're pretty sure that has a double meaning.

"A lift home." You insist firmly, and start walking towards the black vehicle waiting patiently beside them, but he grabs your hands. You raise your eyebrows to ask him what else he wants.

"So are you going to kiss me or should I call a cab?"

You stare at him for a moment before pressing your mouth passionately against his and dragging him towards the limo. You need a ride.