Summary: Waking up with his arm thrown haphazardly across her naked waist with his lips pressed to the crook of her neck made this hard. He always made everything harder.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl and if I did, I wouldn't make the Chair-fans heartsick like that. Quote belongs to Buffy.


Any reminder of what it is she's trying to stay away from could cause her to give in to temptation.

-Buffy

--Gone

She might as well have just gone to the confessional like she did after that fatal night. It was basically the same thing. It was the same thing. If she hadn't known any better, she would have been sure that she had stepped into a time machine. Except for the fact instead of champagne it was whiskey (don't blame her, she was vulnerable again.) Instead of burlesque it was The Empire (he just kept buy hotels, it was difficult to keep track.) And instead of table dancing, it was verbal dancing (he still caught her stripping the dress over her shift, but she was very drunk at this point.) The facts were still the same. He was still in awe of her and it was still two days before her birthday, even if it was just five years later.

Figures.

As a matter of fact, it would just be better if she went and confessed right now. The lot of good it did. She drank a little, she hadn't kept her clothes on, and he made it very difficult to stay away from. She strayed. She strayed a lot. He was a bad influence. Then again, she didn't really protest that much.

The Empire was marginally easier to sneak out of, however. They were already in too deep so he didn't give her the courtesy like dropping her off at her home after he slid easily past her virginity and into the plains of pleasure.

Waking up with his arm thrown haphazardly across her naked waist with his lips pressed to the crook of her neck made this hard. He always made everything harder. Fortunately, he had been only slightly less drunk than she had and he was a heavy sleeper anyway. When he got to sleep, that is.

Stepping into the church on 5th seemed like a good idea. She did remember how he found her then, too, and it would be all the more easier with his round the clock PI's on call. She just knew how he operated.

She would be calling in sick. She could stay underground until her party tonight. (She really wasn't enjoying the striking similarities that would most definitely lead her to stray.) Disinviting him was out. She wasn't sure if he was even invited but because Serena was. He was bound to be as well. She hated Lily and her magtetism towards billionaires. But then again, Blair wouldn't want to be a hypocrite.

But somehow he always found her. She was beginning to think that he had a lojack on her or something. She wouldn't put it past him. But like moths to the flame, their eyes met and she felt like crying. She couldn't fall for him again. She just couldn't. She couldn't admit that she had never stopped, either. That would just admit disaster, not to mention defeat. And he was downright insufferable when he won.

"Lover."

"Stop calling me that," Blair snapped before she could stop herself. She turned from his penetrating gaze, knowing this is where the insufferability began. He liked getting a rise out of her. Loved was more like, but she definitely wasn't letting self destructive thoughts like that enter her mind. Not now.

She hated how he found her. Not that she was doing her very best to hide from him. Maybe she could have tried harder. But she didn't really see the point.

"You could have tried harder to hide yourself from me," he mused.

Damn. She hated how he read her mind.

"Trust me," she sneered, "I am kicking myself."

"Or maybe," he said thoughtfully, rounding the table in her apartment (how did he get in again?) with his predatory walk, "you wanted me to find you."

"Don't make me sick," Blair said bluntly.

"Is it so hard to believe?" he smirked. "You wanted to see me so badly but can't admit it to yourself. Self sabotage."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"If I recollect correctly," he articulated, "it was you who hitched herself in my lap last night. And, wow, Waldorf."

She looked away in embarrassment at her little performances last night. (Yes, more than one. She said she was drunk.)

"Time apart has done us some good. I can't even remember the last time you did a performance like that."

"Neither can I," Blair said, gathering her barrings. "Because it never happened."

"Highly unlikely," Chuck shrugged. "You always get feisty after our months apart. Especially after certain stage performances."

"Don't expect it to happen again," she said in annoyance. "That was a one-time thing."

"Oh, it wasn't just once."

Blair cursed herself that she let him get so close. He was now officially breathing in her ear and she was now officially crumbling. Her resolve was always weak against his shuddering body. And she could just remember how it was doing exactly that.

Damn. She promised herself she wasn't going to do this. He always complicated things.

"Stop," she said in what she thought sounded firm. Apparently from his expression, this was not so.

He didn't listen.

Surprise, surprise, Bass.

She turned her head away as she felt his pelvis pressed to hers. She wanted to move away. She really did. Even when he was barely touching her could he control her motions. Or lack thereof. She flinched when he brought his hand up to her face. This didn't seem to affront him. She dared to look into his mesmerizing eyes and what she thought would be lust was just gentleness. He was looking at her with lo--

Adoration. It was infatuation and adoration and nothing else. It had to be. He stroked her hair tenderly away from her face. He leaned in and she froze. He pressed a soft kiss to her hair. She eyed him carefully as he leaned away, his smug face back in place.

"Your hair always smells so good."

She didn't like how he was smirking at her.

"Especially the smell of you after we--"

She brought her hand up lightning quick but he was ready for her. He always was. The slap that she was prepared to administer to the side of his face was immediately halted as he grasped her wrist.

"If you wanted to play rough, all you had to do was ask," he taunted. She tried to break away but he was too strong. He was always too strong for her.

His hips were suddenly up against hers again and she found herself backed into a wall.

Literally.

His right hand slid smoothly down her body and before she realized what was happening, or could even think of stopping him, his hand was inching up her thigh and she had to clench her jaw tight to stop the waves of pleasure making themselves known through her throaty purring that he always said he loved.

He knew it, anyway.

"Chuck," she said softly, "don't--"

"Shh," he quieted her softly. His lips were on her neck and there was no way in hell she was stopping him now. She was lucky he was isolated in his limo after that fateful night at Victrola. Who knows what would have happened if she had actually accepted his invitation for breakfast.

...Probably the same thing that happened after midnight at her party.

Oh, cruel fate.

It was his husky groan that snapped her out of it. Thank god she was thinking straight. Now.

He fell against the wall as she slid from him.

"I'm sure you're quite capable of letting yourself out," she said coolly, crossing arms over her chest.

"Sure, Waldorf," he smirked nonchalantly. "Whatever you say."

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him.

"I'll see you at your party tonight."

She whirled to see his trademark expression across his face.

"You're officially uninvited," she sneered. She knew she had met his expectations. He remembered just as well as she did.

"Never stopped me before," he said as he stepped out.

She cursed her stupidity.


Darkness cloaked the party like it knew the danger looming closely. Every dark corner Blair couldn't help eying suspiciously. She knew she wouldn't be able to breathe until he appeared. He made her nervous but what made her more nervous was that she didn't know where he was or when he could just sneak upon her. That was what was more deathdefying.

"Blair."

Ugh. She would know that judgmental tone from anywhere. Serena really hadn't gotten over Humphrey's influence. Especially when it came to Chuck Bass. Blair turned to face worried stark blue eyes.

And she knew.

"It just happened," Blair blurted. Serena just shook her head. And then Blair realized. "I don't need to explain myself to you."

"Blair," Serena sighed sadly. "You don't really want a repeat of what happened last time, do you?"

"Like its any of your business," Blair sneered. She couldn't help it. Serena had no idea what it was like to be powerless against your emotions. It was the most helpless experience you could have, no matter how euphoric the high was.

"Staying away from him was a good idea," Serena said wisely. Like she would know. "Now he's back in your life. You could give in to temptation."

"Well its a little late for that, now, isn't it?" Blair asked bitterly. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't help anything that she did when it came to him.

Serena was right. If Blair hadn't foolhardily walked into that club at The Empire that night, this wouldn't have happened. She was submitting herself to temptation by reminding herself of him. But she hadn't actually thought that he would be there. He owned dozens of hotels and he just happened to not be working that night and just happened to be watching her in awe as she danced. And she knew that she had been there before.

Well, it wasn't her fault that Serena had insisted on bringing him, either. Just because they were pseudo-siblings didn't mean anything. Serena was digging Blair's emotional grave and there was nothing she could do about it. Because Blair couldn't very well blame herself, now, could she? She was powerless and that was that.

Blair didn't know how he snuck in past her. She always knew when he was present. The air just tasted different. She felt the room tremor and he would be standing before her.

Not tonight.

Tonight, he was walking out of a room, following some socialite that Blair didn't bother following anymore.

And she hated herself.

It didn't mean that they had done anything. Just because they were walking out of a room in close proximity to one another didn't mean...

Oh, but wait. He was Chuck Bass.

Never mind.

She still couldn't stop the self-destructive tendencies to cause her to look in the room anyway. There was a hallway branching off of it. That could cause an explanation but she really didn't want one. One excuse was good enough to stay away from him. She couldn't ruin herself like she had last time. She couldn't submit herself to anarchy despite all of the good it felt.

Blair exhaled and collapsed on the couch. She couldn't do this. It was too much effort to stay away from him. But it was too much effort to lose herself in him so completely as well.

What a conundrum.

She fidgeted uncomfortably on the couch. She reached beneath the cushions and fished it out. Between her fingers lay the silver zippo lighter that could only belong to one person. Especially since it was monogrammed.

CB.

Figures.

She had no idea what possessed her to hold it close as she stood. She could still smell the smoke.

Charming, Blair had said as he flicked his lighter closed, exhaling into the already room filled with fumes. He had just smirked. He had cornered her once again. He had been just looking and she couldn't have helped but ask.

What?

As transcendent as ever, he had breathed. He had been waiting to give her that response. She had wanted to pull away but his eyes pinned her.

What are you doing here, Bass? she had questioned.

Me? he had smirked. If I recall, you were there the day I bought this place.

Not what I meant.

And what did you mean?

Chuck, she had said slowly, rolling his name around her tongue. He liked it. Stop trying to see me.

You came here, princess, he had told her. Not the other way around.

Oh, I am quite aware of that, Blair had sneered.

Ancient history, Chuck had shrugged. That's done and forgotten.

It didn't seem like it to me, she had replied. Last time.

Last time was a time away, he had replied coolly.

So you're bored with your usual hustlers and come to me? She had asked smoothly. I'm flattered.

You should be, he had said in his usual swagger. He had leaned in and she had let herself be pressed against the wall. They don't even compare to you.

Lucky me, she had whispered. He had smiled languidly. He had known victory was in his sights.

Blair, he had murmured in that guttural tone that never ceased to make her want him. You know you were amazing out there. Watching you dance like that. I can't wait to see what negligee you have underneath that dress.

She had taken a large gasp of breath at his utterances. It had been so long and she was sure he still blamed her. Not so, apparently.

Maybe even a ride in my limo.

I wouldn't count on it, she had snapped.

Unfortunately for her, Chuck was always ahead of the learning curve.

She tried to keep up her word. She really did.

Too bad.

"Well, well, well."

Blair snapped out of the vivid memory of the night before. She would recognize that voice from everywhere. She turned sharply to meet his equally sharp gaze that fell to what was clutched in her hands. He was patting his pockets and his lips curved slowly in victory.

"Just what I was looking for."

"Take it," Blair said snidely, practically throwing the lighter at his chest.

"Not what I was talking about," he said, taking it anyway. "But thanks."

He was still staring at her in that way.

"I thought I uninvited you," Blair said, turning away from him.

"Precedence would show that doesn't really stand for anything."

He then said something that he knew would be the only way for her to turn away.

"I got you something."

Damn him.

"Well as long as you're here," Blair said reluctantly, turning to meet him.

It was almost the same black box. Almost they same gaze. Almost the same red velvet.

Almost the same bed.

She ran her fingers delicately across the glinting diamonds like before and before she knew it, he was putting it on her without any complaints from her.

She knew she would absolutely die if he even considered placing his kiss on her bare shoulder.

"I told you," she whispered to his lips that were so close. "Stop trying to see me."

Chuck was never one to follow orders. He didn't even try for the friendly route this time. He brought his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her into his mouth. She fisted her hands into the front of his shirt, but before she let herself go, propelled him away, jumping off the bed. He looked at her, dejection in his face.

"We can't do this."

"Why?"

He never let anything go. He always had to complicate things.

"Why won't you let me be with you?" he asked gently.

"Because," she burst out. She couldn't believe they were doing this again. She could feel herself self destructing.

"Because I can't do it."

His face was void of all emotion.

"I can't tear myself to pieces to make sure I get out of this intact," she confessed.

"I don't want you to leave," he told her.

"It didn't seem like that before."

'"That was different," he said in frustration.

"That's my point," she said. "We just keep hurting each other and I won't do it anymore."

"Isn't that what you said before?" he sneered. "That you wouldn't make up excuses for to not be with me anymore?"

"We were young, Chuck," she replied. "We were stupid."

"Exactly," he said. "We can handle it now."

"What's changed, Chuck?" she asked. "You tell me. What makes this time different from all the other times? What will stop us from manipulating and hurting each other?"

"Maybe we haven't changed," he replied. "Maybe that's the reason."

"Then I can't do this anymore."

"We haven't changed because we can't," Chuck explained. "People like us don't change. We're the same evil and vain people we always were. We're the same people we were at 16. We may hurt each other, but its the only way. I won't be without you anymore."

"And its worth it?" she asked. "Its worth all the hurt and the gossip?"

"For me," he said. "Yes. Its worth watching you hurt me time and time again, watching you walk away because I know you'll come back to me."

"You left me this time," Blair said, trying to reign in her tears. "Remember?"

"I left you because its what we do. We fight, we'll hate each other until it makes us scream. But we'll always love each other. That's why."

"I won't go into this just expecting that I'll die again."

"I never meant to hurt you."

"I never wanted to hurt you," she admitted after him. He was touching her tenderly again and this time, she wasn't pulling away.

"Something this beautiful," he said, stroking the necklace he had placed across her neck, "deserves to be seen on someone worthy of its beauty."

Their fingers intertwined again.

"I really am sorry."

This time he wasn't talking about ex boyfriends and best friends. He was talking about them. She took in a shuddering breath.

And she let herself go.

"Will you be here in the morning?" she asked in the darkness, feeling him sooth her with his presence.

"Will you love me in the morning?"
They both knew the answer. It was always the same.

Yes.

A thousand times, yes. Always and forever.


A/N: So rewatching Season 6 of Buffy because Spuffy is basically Chair mixed with hellmouths and Brits. Anyway, if you couldn't tell, them telling each other how much they have hurt one another was a blatant reference to 3x06. It despressed me greatly, but luckily, they're staying together of I may have lost my muse for Chair. And the parallels are to 1x07 and 1x08 because they're pretty much the best episodes ever.