AN: I'm sorry, guys, but due to disappointment over the recent spin of events on the show I have lost some of my inspiration, and I want to finish this story while it's still good.

This is the last part of this story. I will focus on my historical fics instead and try to finish them.

I would love it if you could give me some feedback about this last chapter and also whether or not my interpretation of Bart is realistic. I tried to keep it as close to the tone of season 1 as possible.



"Oh, spare me!" the door to the suite number 1812 flew open and there he was.

"Blair?" she looked up and was met by inquisitive ocean blue eyes and a clueless smile.


"I'm so glad you're here. Listen, about Christmas I…"

"Yeah, Chuck just told me about your trip. I'm glad you had a good time. Well, I was on my way out." Blair turned around: "Charles. So attentive to your friends' needs." A fake smile and she was off.

"Wait, I…"


"Chuck what was that?" Chuck was already putting on his slacks.

"Actually, I was on my way out as well. If you don't mind…"

As the two of them stepped outside and Chuck locked the door, Nate addressed his mate hoping to engage in some friendly conversation, but by the time he pulled his wits together, Chuck was already half way down the hall.

"Here's to yet another successful year." His colleagues complimented him.

Bart had not given it much thought, focusing on his relationship problems with Lilly, but ever since December there was a radical change in his son. And if he were to take a guess, it had something to do with the events before Christmas. Apparently the entire cotillion evening crashed and burned in the middle of one of the waltzes, when somehow the dance turned into a fist throwing fight over Blair Waldorf.

Bart didn't fail to notice the look on Eleanor's face, when a week later upon her return from France, she was filled in on the events of the ball night during Catherine Carlyle's annual Christmas dinner. Instead of apologising, she merely looked surprised and flattered. In the course of one night her daughter managed to turn down a prince, infatuate Carter Baizen, draw the otherwise calm presentable Nathaniel Archibald to the brink of physical violence, and unbeknownst to anyone, Blair awoke the green monster inside Chuck Bass without even trying.

Bart finished his lunch meeting, and headed up towards the exit to get some paperwork done at Bass Incorporated. A set of lift cabins just headed up to the top floors and the CEO of the multi-billion company was left in solitude, waiting for the arrival of the next available elevator.

"Let go of me!"

"How dare you!"

Her hissed words came from the stairs and sure enough, as he turned around Bart Bass saw a rather flustered Blair Waldorf running down the stairs with Chuck Bass right behind her.

"And to think that I came up there to apologise to you, feeling guilty." Losing her balance, Blair was about to fall down the stairs as her heels caught in the soft carpet on the steps, but a rough hand gripped her upper arm and pulled her up. Chuck stepped in front of her and blocked her way down.

"That's right, you should. I'm glad there is some dignity left in you." His hazel eyes were black, but the passion in them reflected something other than desire and Blair had to look away, frightened of what she might find there – a beast. A beast that she awoke.

"Why should I? You ruined the one evening I have been anticipating for seventeen years just to save your pride!"

"And you let yourself be FUCKED by my best friend to save yours!" Blair flinched away and when she looked up for the first time in her life she saw repulsion written all over Chuck's face when he looked at her. She could see the hurt, but took it as nothing more than a sign of his wounded pride. Still, it was the disgust that broke her. Blair's eyes watered yet she refused to back down or break down in front of him.

Chuck wanted her to deny everything. He wanted her to say that after he turned away and ran heartbroken to his suite to pack, she didn't go through with it. That she left Nathaniel alone and came looking for him but was too late. But he knew she didn't. Still, her words cut through his walls like a knife through butter, heading straight towards his still bleeding lonely heart.

"No, I finally shared the most intimate act of love with the right person…"

He knew that those words were meant to be the final blow; he could read her like a book in any circumstances. But that one sentence had quite the opposite effect. Nathaniel aside, Chuck once again remembered that this was Blair in front of him. Sure, she might have remained guarded around him during their heated affair, but what he failed to remember until now was that despite her demons so alike his own Blair had also dreams. Dreams that went beyond buying an antique bottle of most expensive scotch at an auction and then enjoy the liquor while letting the slutty Christie's speaker give him a blowjob as he signed a few papers. Chuck wished more than anything that his notion of "dreams" remained as it was. However, they now consisted of him coming home to bouncing mahogany curls and soft arms and lips and thighs wrapped around him.

She may have invaded his every thought, but Chuck was fairly certain that the romantic in her painted a picture of the to of them a long time ago. Probably some 50s Old Hollywood movie was playing in her head the entire December. And how could he object to the role as a misunderstood gangster.

"The most intimate act of love?" She swallowed and closed her eyes as he stepped closer. "Is that what we were sharing? Do you remember, Blair? That rainy afternoon. Your delectable green dress pushed down over your bare breasts- me devouring them, with that flowing skirt pulled up to your waist. Your bare back and ass pressed against the stained glass window, with me thrusting my … " He placed his hand on her waist pressing her against him. He whispered in her ear: "… into your wet, tight heated … your nails cutting through layers of my skin, blood drops forming on my back urging me to pound harder and faster, pulling at my hair until you screamed!"

Blair felt his tongue lick her ear, realizing that her la Pearla underwear was ruined and in between her thighs were wet, while her mouth was dry like the dessert. Gathering all her strength she pushed him away, her legs shaky and her inner walls trembling after the impromptu orgasm the devil in front of her caused.


He smirked: "Now that's unfair. Don't I deserve a parting favour as well? I'm thinking you, on your knees, with that sweet soft mouth around my co-" The loud slap came out of nowhere. For a second he simply stood there stunned, but then he pulled himself together and instead of running after her stood put, calling after her.

"If you think your little arranged marriage with Nate is still on, then you must be more delusional than I thought." That comment stopped her and she halted in mid-step.

"What?" He smirked, smug, and calmly descended to her level.

"Well, you see, unlike you I like to keep the food I eat in my stomach." She gasped. "But watching you pathetically run after Archibald like a bitch in the heat simply makes me sick. I can't stand that level of … what's the word I'm looking for?" He looked behind Blair and saw Nate exiting the hotel. "… desperation. And seeing as Nathaniel is my best friend, I see no way to avoid that sight. So either you stay away from him, or I will reveal the truth and he won't want to be anywhere near you anyhow."

"And how do you think Nate will react when he finds out that his supposed best friend took the virginity of his girlfriend of ten years?"

"Oh, I think he will see it as I do: my duty to warn him, testing the territory myself first."

Blair sighed, shaking her head. She did not recognise this Chuck. He was known to be a heartless bastard, but he never acted like this with her. "I though you were my friend?" She looked up with her big doe eyes.

His smirk fell and his face turned into a cold façade with blazing eyes. "Face it Blair. We were never just friends."

She turned around and this time he didn't stop her. Instead he simply watched as she walked out of his hotel with his heart still clenched in her claws. "We will never be just friends…"

The sound of an arriving elevator brought Bart into reality. He saw that his son was now on his way up to his suite, alone, with a bottle of scotch from the bar in his hand. Stepping inside the cabin Bart pressed the button and soon the doors closed.

While standing there alone in the lift, he realized that his son was one of the few who had stumbled upon a rare type of love and commitment. The type that has a beginning but no end.

no matter how many chances he might screw up in the process…



Thank you all for the support.

This story was simply a pleasure to write.

I miss Bart.