Why did he have to be right every single time

Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl. This story is just for fun.

Spoilers: Season 2, episode 3, promo clips.

Summary: He was right. He had always been right. Queen B. already had a king. Not royalty, but definitely much better. A bastard. She just had to let him know that. Inspired by the promo clips for "Dark Night". Blair/Chuck

A/N: Read and review, please. This is my first Gossip Girl fanfiction. Kisses and hugs.

Fairytale ending

Why did he have to be right every single time? Why couldn't she forget all about him? About his touches, that burned her to her very core? About his whispers, naughty words that should have left her feeling insulted yet, somehow, all they did was make her want him even more? Why did he have to hit a nerve every time he spoke…

He had asked her if Marcus satisfied her needs, if he knew how to make her loose her composure, how to stop her from being an Waldorf, all poise and grace, and turn her into a young woman who was not afraid to beg for his touch, his mouth, his body. A woman who knew how to turn on a man, how to flirt, how to laugh… A woman who had performed on a burlesque clubs' stage just for the sake of it.

She had tried to lie to him, tell him that she and Marcus had an amazing sex life. But, just as expected… One can never lie to Chuck Bass. After all, he invented lies and scandals in the Upper East Side. Of course he saw right through her. For all the lying she had done in her life, for all she had lied to Nate, Serena, her mother, she had never lied to that bastard. She couldn't. He knew her, the only person in the entire world that knew who Blair Waldorf really was, how much of a screwed up, pathetic little creature she was, had to be Chuck. Damn it, could she ever catch a break? Could she have fallen for a less annoying, over the top, larger than life, perfect son of a bitch?

She was an Waldorf, and when had they took the easy way out… or in, for that matter? Which is why now, two days after that surprisingly successful party (or that complete relationship disaster), she was sitting in Chucks' limousine, waiting for him to come inside… She smirked, not really a thing one could see Blair doing, but then again, this was a place of no pretence, of no masks and no hide – outs. She was going to tell him everything she needed to get off her chest. And she was going to make sure he felt guilty as hell for ruining her reputation, her persona, her summer and her peace of mind. Also, for completely screwing with her perfect future and her "knight in shinning armor" perception of love. They make cold bedfellows… Huh, as if he knew anything about armors… or knights for that matter.

Ah, there he was, coming out of Victrola at four in the morning, with a woman hanging on each of his arms… So typically Chuck, so cliché. She had to laugh out loud. Who did he think he could fool with all that leering and flirting and boozing and… he better stop touching that botoxed bitch soon, or she will claw her eyes out right there. That's it, come closer, closer… That's it, be a gentleman, let the ladies in first…

When the first blonde, blue-eyed tramp hit the leather bench of the limousine, she found herself promptly pushed right back out, on the dirty pavement, where she belonged. Oh yes, that caused a ruckus outside. And nobody loved creating chaos better than Blair. Yes, that was her cue. She stepped out of the limo in all her royal glory and eyed the ladies with disgust.

"You two … Disappear, now!" she said quietly. As an afterthought, Blair added with a cruel and cold smile, "And never touch him again, for all the money in the world. Because unlike you, I actually do have all the money and the resources to track you down and make you regret it."

The two women scampered faster than you could say "Channel", and she was left all alone with him. Oh, the nerve of that jerk. He had a smile that would make any Cheshire cat envy him. A smile that bordered on offending and that had "I knew you want me" plastered all over it.

"Get in the limo. And not a word before I'm done talking. Is that clear, Chuck?"

He nodded, not once wiping the smile off his face. But, thank the Lord, he did got into the limo and sat there, more sober than he should have been. Serious eyes bore into hers and she almost lost her nerve. God, she knew how intense he could be. She had him for a week at a time and he had completely swept her off her feet. What was she doing giving him more power over her? He could crush her in two seconds flat. All it would take was another speech like the one at the bar not so long ago. This time she wouldn't rise from her ashes. She knew that for a fact. She also knew that she had to do this, had to give him a reason to say those three words, those eight letters she craved so badly and he was so afraid to say out loud. All right, Waldorf, stop being such a baby and speak.

"Look, Chuck, I… I… " she chocked on her first words. Now she knew why he had so much trouble saying it. But she wasn't giving up. "I don't have feelings for Marcus. I thought I loved Nate, but, as you so annoyingly pointed out, we didn't belong together. I hate to admit this, really, really hate this, but… I belong with you. You belong with me. I, I… Oh, for the sake of… I love you. There, I've said it. You scarf-wearing son of a bitch ruined my summer. My perfect little world, ruined by you. Why couldn't you remain a heartless bastard and a leering, disgusting jerk and let me have my one and only happy – ending? Why did you have to come and show me how much better it could get, how I could loose sleep because of a kiss, of a touch, how I could yearn for something I never should have known exists? You told me that's what you loved about me, the fire hidden behind the pristine, high society manners. Well, here is your last shot, Chuck. Want that fire all to yourself? Want that to never burn for anyone but you? Tell me the truth. Do you love me? Do you fell something for me at all? Tell me that I didn't just make a complete fool out of myself."

She blinked. For the first time since she started talking, she blinked. And she missed it, she missed the shock, the surprise and the determination crossing his face. What she didn't miss was the hand caressing her face, wiping away tears she didn't know she had shed. Nor did she miss the warm and soft lips that kissed her eyelids, her cheekbones, her nose and then, ever so tenderly, her lips. Soft and careful one minute, demanding and aggressive, almost agitated the next.

He pulled her in his lap, took hold of her face and looked her in the eye as he said, convinced and annoyingly sassy:

"You thought you could go away with your knight in shining armor and that I wouldn't follow you. I told you once, I'll tell you again. In the face of true love, one never gives up, not even when the object of your affection is begging you to. I made a stupid, idiotic, moronic mistake. I didn't have the courage to face you afterwards. I thought… I thought that I would be noble enough to let you find happiness elsewhere or that I simply didn't care enough to mind if you showed up with a new boy toy. Truth is I was dead wrong. I never felt worse in my entire life than in the moment when I saw you kiss that guy at the Jitney. And I swore that I would get you back, no matter what. Apparently, all I had to do was let you stew a while. You came back on your own." He laughed mockingly, looking her up and down.

She felt her face go up in flames and almost slapped him. She couldn't believe his nerve. She had just laid her heart out in the open, even brought him her heart – shaped pin and he had the galls to mock her. She blinked back tears and tried to move away from him, but found out she couldn't. He was still holding her like she belonged there. And right when she was about to tell him to go to hell, he spoke again:

"Seems to me that you didn't quite get the message, Queen B. Seems to me that you think I am not appreciating your out of character honesty. You think I'm treating you like a jerk, like you are some sort of conquest, another notch on the bedpost. Well, let me make this really clear for you. Waldorf, stop being an insecure idiot and kiss me. Because I do love you. I think I've loved you for quite a while. But what the hell, I'm Chuck Bass. If it isn't lust, it takes a while for me to figure it out. So, sorry for being slow on the uptake. But I love you. And if I ever see you with that lord guy… Well, he is not a lord in the Upper East Side. I am. As you so eloquently put it earlier, I have both the resources and the money to make him regret his stint in America. Clear enough for you, Blair?" He finished his speech one hair breath away from her lips, but the bastard didn't move. Oh, no. He waited for her to come to him.

And she did. Crushed her lips to his. It wasn't a slow kiss, it wasn't fairytale material, it wasn't the "happily ever after" she dreamt about since she was 4. It was Chuck: messy, talented, full of fire and of life. Flawed and insane. Lacking morals and decency. But he was hers and she was his, and it was the only thing that mattered right then and there.