A/N: I think this is my first one-shot where Chuck and Blair aren't even insuated having sex. Accomplishment. Not really sure what to classify this as, because it just popped into my head. I saw the promos for next week and I wanted to get this out before then (hint, hint.)

Summary: He didn't remember meeting her. But that didn't insinuate that he didn't remember falling in love with her. Because that happened. Searing its way through his veins, he felt that poisonous emotion called love spread like a cancer through his body. And he liked it.

Disclaimer: None is mine. Because if it was, I would have been smart and not made Elizabeth Chuck's stupid mom.

He remembered the first time he saw her. Throughout the loud music of the party, his eyes were drawn to her and everything stopped.

If only for a moment.

His eyes were drawn to her at her place at the top of the marble staircase. He had never seen her before but he suddenly knew that without a doubt, he needed to have her.

It was a Bass trait to always want what you can't have. And he didn't know why, but he knew he had to have her. Because for some explicable reason, he knew she wasn't meant for him. She was wrong. She was all wrong for him. Despite her black dress that hugged her, he knew she was pure and belonged wholly to someone else.

And he was going to have her.

"And where do you think you're going, young lady?"

As Blair Waldorf stepped from the last step, her mother grabbed her by the arm in the middle of the party. Blair gave her a look of tired disdain.


"Is that what you think?" Eleanor asked. "After all this time. Crying in your room for weeks over--"

"I'm not talking about this, Mother," Blair replied. "I'm going out."

"It's been almost a month, Blair," Eleanor said sternly. "He's not coming back."

Blair ripped her elbow from her mother's grasp. "Whatever."

He shifted on his feet, looking at the adult girl, squirming under his gaze.


Her dark eyes scowled at his. He almost took a step back at the power of them.

And was suddenly not surprised at how his fool of a nephew to fall victim to them like he never had to anyone before.

"Blair," Eleanor snapped. "Jack's brother just died."

Blair didn't take her eyes off him and he smirked.

"Please," she sneered. "He didn't even come to the funeral."

Jack stood in surprise as she shouldered past him, leaving an aura of perfume in her wake.

"I apologize for my daughter," Eleanor said cordially. This was a party after all. "She's never been the same since..."

"Chuck," Jack supplied, looking after the elevator that Blair had disappeared into.

"I'm not stupid."

Jack's eyes snapped back to Eleanor's.

"I see the eyes that follow my daughter," she supplied. "And your eyes are far too old to be looking at her like that."

"Like my nephew?" Jack asked.

"He loved her," Eleanor said.

"How do you know?"

"Because his eyes were pure," she answered. "And yours are not."

Jack was not about to contradict about how "pure" his eyes were. There were just some things that got around and Jack for sure knew what happened in the back of a certain limo. Chuck was a Bass after all.

"Great party," Jack answered in conclusion as he headed towards the elevator.

And it wasn't long before he found her.

"I can see why."

Blair's eyes surveyed his coldly at the hotel bar. He didn't know what she was doing there. Certainly teenagers were supposed to be having their parties. And she was here drinking alone.

"See what?" she asked.

And he knew she was drunk.

"His infatuation with you," Jack said, circling her like a vulture. "The looks that all Basses are susceptible to. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Sharp tongue."

"Bart married a blonde," Blair said wryly, knocking back another martini. "Not that you would know."

"Not the first time," Jack replied, ignoring the pointed jab.

With that, she laid it down and glowered at him.

"You think I don't see right through you," Blair said shortly.

"If you didn't, you wouldn't be worth my time."

She let out a short breath of dark laughter before shaking her head.

"What's funny?" Jack asked, but with no real ire in his voice. "You gave it up to Chuck."

"Chuck is actually my age," Blair replied with sharp venom. He made it sound so callous. "And then some. I'm six months older than him."

"Once you go Bass, you never go back."

"Charming," Blair replied, sliding off the stool. He couldn't help but let his eyes drift to the thighs that were showcased by her skirt that rode up. She didn't seem to notice. That was working in his favor. "But ill timed. If you haven't noticed, your come-ons should be better saved for someone who will fall for them. Or actually cares. I'm off Bass right now."

"Then why aren't you off with your boyfriend?" Jack asked sleazily.

"I don't have one."

Her answer came out too fast.

"It is my lucky night."

Her eyes grew icy as she built up the wall around her.

"I don't believe your act for one second," she vowed.

"What act?"

"That you actually give a damn about your nephew," she replied. "All you're here for is the reading of the will. If you weren't you would actually be looking for him like someone who cared."

"I thought you said you were off Bass," Jack replied. He watched her swallow thickly and was glad her judgment was impaired. Because she was just too good to pass up.

"I like your necklace," he mentioned, fingering the heart shaped pendant on her throat. "Though isn't it a little fancy for just a New Year's party?"

She swallowed again as her eyes misted over with tears.

His nephew had taste.

He didn't remember meeting her. But that didn't insinuate that he didn't remember falling in love with her. Because that happened. Searing its way through his veins, he felt that poisonous emotion called love spread like a cancer through his body.

And he liked it.

It wasn't like he had known before. It wasn't like how he saw the awkward and painful kisses and decided which was the best way to break the friendships of the two most prominent people in his life. It wasn't like he wanted to feel the overwhelming power of jealousy and irrational anger towards anyone who would even look at her.

It wasn't like he wanted to commit his first act of violence ever against the face of his best friend. It wasn't as though he liked playing squash with faux-Brits. He didn't like anything what his feelings for her made him do.

He didn't like losing her time and time again. Because that was what he knew happened between them and it was happening again.

"No hard feelings, kid."

He wished he could quell the deep seeded rage and darkness that surged in his heart. But for the first time, he didn't hate himself. He directed his rage at the last living Bass.

"She won't touch you ever again," Chuck warned. Because he loved her. He loved her so much it hurt.

"Well you took care of that for me," Jack replied. "Didn't you?"

"You were targeting her," Chuck said darkly.

"Well this is a war," Jack supplied. "And everyone knows not to put the one thing they value most on the front lines. They're called causalities of war for a reason. I was impressed by your tactic for removing her, though. How much did you say the prostitute cost?"

"We didn't go into detail," Chuck said darkly.

"Right," Jack said. "Not that I'm sure you would want her to. After everything she did..."

"Anything she did she did because she loves me," Chuck said, though losing his edge. He still couldn't take the image of her intwined with his uncle.

"Well with her slamming the door in your face for thinking you cheated on her for some high priced call girl and everything... I can't believe she actually fell for it."

"She'll come back to me," Chuck said, though his confidence was waning. "She always does."

"Wrong again, junior," Jack said condescendingly, leaning back in what had just become his office. "She always comes back for a Bass. And since you're not available..."

"She won't," Chuck said more severely this time. Because he would surely die if that ever happened.

"She did last time."

"You've already taken my company," Chuck said. "What do you want with her?"

"Did you ever stop to think that I just find her irresistible?" Jack asked. "With her dark features and harsh bite. She's every Basses' dream."

And Chuck felt himself coil again, self loathing coursing through him.

"You really screwed up this time, kid," Jack sighed. "Telling your girlfriend you cheated on her to protect her from the Big Bad Wolf? I've never heard faultier logic."

"She's smart," Chuck said, not so sure anymore. "She won't fall for it."

"For once, you are underestimating the power of the Bass charm."

"Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

She was there, lounging up against the bar in a tight fitting skirt with tights to match, lipstick on the rim of her martini glass.

"I think you're gorgeous," Jack greeted the same way he had at the beginning. Blair rolled her eyes and he caught sight of the necklace around her neck.

He knew it had to have some semblance of meaning.

"You're jealous."

"Pardon?" Jack asked, using politeness he never deigned to use before. And he knew maybe some of what he had said to his immature nephew wasn't just to get inside his head. This woman was hard to forget.

"Of Chuck," Blair clarified.

"Of some 18 year old who can't tell the difference between a whore and his own girlfriend?" Jack prodded. But her face didn't crumple like he remembered that night he had taken her. Her mouth just quirked into a smirk and Jack thought for a moment how impossible it would be that some 19 year old girl could be smarter than him.

And he had to know.

"You think I believe that story for one second?" she asked dryly. "You've been trying to get into my head since the day you met me. And it's never worked."

"Really?" Jack asked skeptically. "Because it worked getting you into bed."

"Because I let it," Blair answered. "But Chuck's here now. And no matter how much you wish you have what he does, you'll never get it."

"I'm not jealous," Jack growled, insulted by the very accusation.

"You didn't go after Bass Industries," Blair said. "You went after Chuck's company when it's barely a fledgling and worth anything. Call it revenge. Call it jealousy. And after what's all said and done, you go after the only thing he has left."

"You," Jack supplied. "I do call that revenge."

"But you've already had me," Blair said, cocking her head to the side, playing with him.

Jack didn't have an answer for that one.

He listened in anger to her light hearted, condescending laugh as she glided away with poise that he had never seen anyone in his life possess.

"I never understood," Jack announced to her back before she turned around, "what Chuck's obsession with you was until I met you. You're exactly the type."

"Chuck doesn't have a type," Blair answered.

"His type is you," Jack replied. "But that wasn't what I was talking about. You're exactly the Bass type. You're the complex that we have."

"If I see you again," Blair announced, "I will destroy you."

As she walked away, he didn't doubt it.

"Silly boy."

Chuck looked up, flinching at the familiar voice. And there she was. In all the beauty that belonged to him, there she was, leaning against his door frame like she had never left it.

Immediately at the sight of her, he straightened his posture, righting his clothes like he had always done in her presence. Even after months of dating, he still hadn't gotten over the compulsion to impress her.

Though the tactics had changed from trying to destroy her boyfriends to trying to be perfect for her, the reasoning behind it was the same.

"How's Jack?" Chuck sneered, unable to help the bitterness from seeping into his voice.

"Enjoying Australia, I expect," Blair replied coolly, entering the room that felt more like home than her actual penthouse.

"He's gone," Chuck stated monotonously.

"Or somewhere else where he'll be as irrelevant as ever."

"What are you doing here, Blair?" Chuck asked quietly. He couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear watching her legs and her lips and her curls knowing that they could never be his again.

"Did you really think that I would buy it?" she asked.

"If I tell you the truth, then you believe it," Chuck answered darkly. If he was going to end up hurting her, he wanted her away for good. So he wouldn't be able to submit this to her ever again. Like he had tried before and failed spectacularly at.

"But it wasn't the truth," Blair said, nearing him dangerously, "was it? Tell me it was all a lie."

"And what good would that do?"

"Just tell me that I'm under your skin," she answered, "like you're under mine. Because in the past three years, not once have I been able to get over you. And I've had a lot of time and a lot of suitors."

"Keep reminding me," Chuck muttered, for one moment, not able to ban the thought of his uncle and was rightfully his intertwined.

"Tell me you lied to me," Blair said more forcefully.

"Then you tell me what would be the point," Chuck answered, "if we just keep hurting each other."

"Isn't it worth it?" she asked.

"Is it to you?"

"Would I be here if it wasn't?"

Chuck went silent for a moment. "He said he was going after you."

"Do you really think he made it that far?" Blair laughed. "The mistakes I already made were enough."

And she was in his arms again, the diamonds of her sharp necklace pressed against his collarbone. He pulled away, to finger the pendents as he always had done.

"Manipulator," he murmured with a smirk.

"I always have a Plan B," Blair said, matching his expression.

And Chuck knew that it wasn't Blair who was the problem. It wasn't her fault that he could never get enough of her. Because he was a Bass. And there was one thing that he and his uncle did share in heredity. She was under his skin. They both had it.

The Blair Waldorf Complex.