Mr and Mrs Bass

Pairing: Chuck/Blair

Summary: She promised him she would stand by him through anything. Now that he needs to change his reputation for the board, he's coming to collect.

Part 1

Her eyes narrowed.

Chuck Bass stood in front of her with another bouquet of flowers in his hand and a manila envelope in the other.

"Are you serious?"

He did not speak. He held out the flowers to her. Finally, Blair took the flowers and belied her sharp tongue by gently laying them on the table. And then Chuck offered the envelope with both hands.

After two full weeks of not speaking to each other, he showed up at her house with the most clichéd gesture of all—and one that never worked on them anyway. Still, the flowers were nice. She always wanted to find out what flowers from Chuck smelled like. They all seemed to end up in the trash before she could even bury her nose in them.

Blair stared art the envelope suspiciously. She was reluctant to reach for it because really, she had enough to worry about in her own life right then and didn't need to be dragged down into another Chuck Bass drama. Sometimes a girl needed to worry about herself.

"What is it?" she asked with an edge to her voice.

Chuck pushed the envelope forward, so she took it. He let out a breath of relief. "I need your help."

Blair's eyebrows furrowed. She tore the side of the envelope.

Chuck managed, "It wasn't sealed."

She glanced up in surprise, then flipped the flap. "So it isn't." She was embarrassed, but did not show it. Blair looked up at him and saw the fond smile on his lips. She turned her attention back to the envelope and drew out the papers. "You've gotta be kidding me," she said in a breathless whisper.

Chuck licked his lips. "I'm turning eighteen next week. Bass Industries will be mine. And I'm going to have to show good faith to the board so that they'll learn to trust me."

Blair waved the paper in front of his face. "And you think another lie is going to answer your problem?" Blair read off the paper, then turned back to Chuck. "How did you get Lily van der Woodsen to send a waiver."

"Lily's putty in my hands." Chuck made a face at her, then snatched back the precious document. "And it's not a waiver. It's not a roller coaster." Chuck smoothed the paper on his thigh. "It's a permission from my legal guardian for me to get married." He smirked. "Because I'm underage. Don't worry. You don't need one."

Blair shook her head. "You're insane!"

Chuck smirked. "Do you realize if you and I got together after you turned eighteen, it would've been statutory rape?"

Blair stood up and pushed at Chuck's shoulders. "You're disgusting. Shut up." And then she picked up the flowers to take along with her. "I'm done with you and your… ugh… all your drama." And then she whirled around. "And in New York, seventeen is not below age of consent!" she defended herself.

Chuck caught her hand and pulled her to him. Blair gasped and fell against him. "Come on, Blair, help me out," he pleaded. "I need you."

Blair hated him. Absolutely hated that he could plead like that and just shatter her resolve. She did promise him she would be there for him.

"If there's any time I ever really needed you, Blair, it's now," he told her.

And she just absolutely melted. Blair pursed her lips.

"You can go to Yale, do whatever you like. You'll have the biggest allowance of any coed in the planet. Imagine what your wardrobe could look like while you strut around New Haven," he offered.

She smiled. Of course she would look stunning. She had fabulous taste. It was the most pleasant thing anyone ever told her that day, more pleasant than the news that her admission was no longer on hold and she could enroll as soon as possible.

But he had just, finally, admitted he needed her. And she had not been lying when he told her, right before she threw her flowers at his feet and watched the elevator doors swallow him whole, that all she ever wanted was to be there.

But this was Yale.

Her future.

Or her future.

"Fine," she decided. Blair studied his uncharacteristically messy hair and rumpled coat. For the first time, Chuck Bass looked unkempt, almost nervous. At least when he nervously waited for her in the Hamptons he had looked spectacularly put together. This time, he was just unacceptable. "Take a shower and put on some nice clothes." His rumpled coat alone looked like it was worth four grand, but he knew what she meant.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

And she was reminded of the time at the back of his limo, when she was about to jump headlong into this thing with him, and he needed to know the same thing. To ease his mind, not that she owed it to him, but he looked like he needed it, she lied too. "I didn't get into Yale."

Then he did the most unexpected thing. It had never been something she had pegged Chuck Bass could do. Because then she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders and he was pulled her to him, flush and tight, and he kissed her forehead. "Their loss," he said.

Her arms were limp on either side of her body, but her hand tightened around the flowers. Blair closed her eyes and relished the sensation of his lips on her skin. She felt her eyes heat up and her throat close. She didn't know why she could be so teary. Seriously, she did not get rejected by Yale. There was no cause to be so emotional.

"Yeah," she said, finding some strength to inject in her voice. Blair shrugged and pulled reluctantly out of his embrace. "You're giving me the perfect excuse to stay, and I still get to save my face." She noticed him studying her with almost tender eyes. For some reason, she found the look offensive. "I'm not doing it as a favor to you, Bass. Don't flatter yourself."

And her words seemed to cut at him.


"Fine!" Chuck spat. "I try to be nice and—"

"I'm not a child," she snapped. "I'm doing this for me, okay? Not for some warped sense of loyalty to you. Because I'm not loyal to you."

Chuck growled. "You better be, or else the board will get suspicious. Then I lose their trust."

"You should be used to that by now!" Blair argued.

The two of them released their breaths sharply at the same time. Blair watched as Chuck visibly told himself to be calm. "So nobody's doing anybody any favors," he summarized. "We're doing this for ourselves. I get the board to believe I'm a steady young man; you save face for not making it to Yale."

"Right," Blair forced.

"Sounds good. Shall we shake on it?"

"By all means," she responded with a sweet smile. Blair extended her hand.

Chuck took her hand in his and shook it. And then he raised it to his lips. "It's a deal, Mrs Bass."

Blair stifled a smile. "Not yet. I need something from you."

Chuck frowned. "You still get the allowance."

Blair shook her head. She could care less about the allowance, but did not refuse because who knew how Eleanor Waldorf would react when she found out Blair's first legal transaction as an eighteen year old woman? She just might need Chuck's money. Still, she could not live and let live. "You have to be very discreet about your indiscretions, and I'll do the same." Knowing Chuck, the last dependent clause she used would get her exactly what she wanted.

"The hell you will," he murmured softly. "No other guys, Blair. I'm not going to be the husband that gets cheated on and whispered about." His voice grew hard. "I'm not my dad."

Blair bit her lip, because even if she intended the reaction, she did not mean for Chuck to remember his father in that regard. "So what do you propose?"

"No girls for me. No guys for you," he said.

Blair cocked her head to the side. "I can manage that. I don't know if you can."

"You don't know what I can do once I put my mind to it."

She nodded, satisfied. Blair gestured towards the elevator. "Now go change into something respectable. I never imagined this would be what my wedding day will be like. So please don't turn up looking like a homeless drunkard." She caught the sad, apologetic look he threw her way, and chose to ignore it. "I think I'll wear a nice red dress."

Chuck slammed his hand on the closing elevator doors. "You don't have a white one?"

Blair shuddered as she thought of the eyelet dresses her mom made for her. She looked twelve in them. "Nothing that suits the occasion."

Chuck jerked his head. "Grab your bag. We're going to shop for one."

Blair beamed. She raced and took her bag from the chaise and popped into the elevator with Chuck. Chuck grinned at her. She rolled her eyes. "The adrenaline is at the prospect of shopping," she told him.

Chuck nodded, almost patronizingly. "And not at all for the fact that you're going to be my wife."

He was arrogant. But it made her smile. At least he wasn't flinging himself from the rooftop. And he didn't make the word sound ugly at all. "Your ego knows no bounds," she pointed out. Blair leaned back against the elevator wall. Her eyes fell to her clasped hands. She frowned at the sight of her ruby ring. If anyone found out about what they were planning to do, and someone snapped a picture of her hand—She opened her mouth, and looked up at Chuck to warn him.

He was on his knee, holding up a ring between his thumb and forefinger. "Let's make this part at least real," he said. "Something I found in my dad's box."

She couldn't breathe. It was the sight of him there, on his knees with his unkempt hair and that coat that had not been pressed. And he had that little curve on his lips, that expectant look in his eyes as he held up the diamond to her.

"Be the wife," he told her.

She moistened her lips, and she swallowed. Blair's eyes flew to the elevator LCD that told her they were almost at the ground floor. She reached out her hand towards the ring, then hesitated.

"Be my wife," he said.

The elevator doors opened, and Blair clapped her hand over her mouth. Chuck squinted at the people standing outside and spotted Eleanor looking at them in horror, Cyrus chortling, and Harold and Roman clutching the other's arm. She supposed Chuck thought her reaction was for show.

So Blair just enjoyed the moment and let her tears spill. "Of course," she gasped, throwing her arms around him as he stood up. Chuck held her gaze while he slid the ring onto her finger. She sidled close, and said into his arm. "Be nice to my parents," she said. "Make it look real."

And when he did, she found herself bent over backwards, drowning with his lips on hers, grasping at his shoulders so she wouldn't fall.

Something told her she would love being fake married to him.