A/N: I wrote this, inspired by Streetcar but I'm submitting it now just because I am upset with the outcome of tonight's eppie. Once again. This was also very therapeudic to write after 3x18.

Summary: There are things that happen between a man and a woman in the dark that sort of make everything else seem unimportant.

Disclaimer: I do not own Streetcar Named Desire or my complete rage at what has become of Chair.

There are things that happen between a man and a woman in the dark-- that sort of make everything else seem-- unimportant.


--A Streetcar Named Desire

For Blair Waldorf, logic was a necessity. Without intelligence on the Upper East Side, you didn't go far. Nate let himself be wrangled into anything while Serena just drank her brains out. Blair needed logic. Logic gave her the incentive to marry Nathaniel Archibald and not war with her mother.

But then suddenly, logic just lost all semblance of meaning.

Damn you, Chuck Bass.

Chuck and Blair were never supposed to happen. Because they weren't logical. On the outside, they seethed their difference at each other. Blair was superior and Chuck sneered conspiratorially at her. Because the secret was, they weren't different at all. On the inside, their darkness was what made them the same.

And that was what made Blair lose all sense of logic.

Logic made sense. Her inevitable marriage to Nathaniel Archibald made sense. Her social climbing made sense. Going to Yale made sense.

Then again, none of that happened either.

Because inevitability wasn't really Nate at all.

Logic didn't matter when she broke up with Nate that night. Logic didn't matter when she ascended the stairs of that burlesque club. And logic certainly didn't matter when she made the choice that turned her life on its head.

If she never lost her logic, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Maybe she wouldn't have lost her virginity to Chuck Bass. Maybe she wouldn't have torn her heart out for him. Maybe he wouldn't have smashed her to pieces. And maybe she wouldn't love him with a passion that burned her up from the inside.

Because before she knew it, she had given up her virginity willingly (if not forcefully), professed her love for him, and cried over him too many times to count. Love with Nate wasn't like that. Loving Nate was easy. Loving Nate was what she was supposed to do. It was logical.

All of a sudden, she wasn't doing anything that was logical anymore. She was scheming and manipulating as usual. But she was loving someone that she was never supposed to. She let him do things to her that she never would have tolerated had it been anyone else.

He never took her for granted. He never cheated on her. But he knew how to hurt her more than anyone else. And she just didn't care. She didn't care how much they could hurt each other without even trying. It was then that she knew there was no going back. Because you could only be hurt so much by someone you loved irrevocably. And she knew this.

Logic was gone from the start.

And so was she.


Chuck Bass wasn't a violent man. But he was a passionate one. It was only Blair who could read the Bass subtext. In his subdued manner and husky drawl, Blair could read him like he could read her.

The scent of scotch was usually coupled with Chuck Bass and this wasn't something that bothered Blair. Chuck was Chuck. And that's all there was.

Chuck wasn't a violent man. Blair just made him crazy for her.

Not crazed.


In an instant, something so simple can be thrown out of proportion. All it took was an overreaction of an irrational husband, a fragile wife, and one sister who didn't know anything.

Dazed, Blair looked at the remnants of the lamp that lay broken in shards at her bare feet. She looked into Chuck's eyes that were glazed over. There was a second of tranquil calmness before the screaming began.

Blair felt Serena's harsh grasp around her wrist as she was pulled from the apartment as Nate dragged Chuck backwards.

Blair was only coherent enough to the vaguely understand the phrases being screamed as Serena ushered her away from her husband. Blair wished she could resist. She didn't want to leave.

She never wanted to leave.

What have you done?

You're drunk.

How could you?

Get him away from her.

He's drunk.

Where is she going?

Blair. Blair.


Serena snapped the door behind her and sat her best friend on her bed.

"He was drunk," Blair said distantly.

"Is that an excuse?" Serena demanded.

Blair refrained from the frame of mind that always echoed inside of her.

You just don't understand.


The second Chuck became coherent, he knew immediately what mistake he had made. It wasn't the first time and he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

He had wronged Blair once again.

He hadn't meant to but his overprotective tendencies exploded just like that lamp and he thought the same thing he always thought when she made him combust in a rage.

You make me insane.

But in the good way.

For you.

No one understood. He didn't even understand it. He didn't understand the things he did when she was around. Then again, it wasn't exactly logical.

He wasn't supposed to fall in love. It wasn't in his genetics. He was supposed to sleep around and marry some model half his age when the time came to bear his heir. That was the way things were done.

And then there was Blair.

That was it.

And then he was done.

It was something that he couldn't explain and could never dream of doing. Because she was Blair and he was Chuck and that's just the way things were. They were so entwined that ripping them apart would surely be lethal.

He didn't want to be ripped from her.

He hated the things she made him do.

It was just something so small. But it was Blair and that was that.

Coming back to their penthouse with Serena so late made Chuck worried. But irrational worry on Chuck Bass should never be paired with alcohol. Because then he got more irrational. Because then he threw lamps.

Chuck fell from the bed where he was sure Nate had placed him to find the penthouse empty and cold. She was nowhere to be found and that cold panic shocked through him with a sense of familiarity.

Her leaving him was a fear he had battled since the very beginning. He was always afraid he would wake up one day to just find her gone because that would be the day that she realized that she was too good for him.

And she would be right.

But Chuck didn't care. Because he needed her and right now and he had ensured that she needed him as well. Even if Serena couldn't understand something like that.

He heard his own crackling voice echo around his surroundings with despair.



Come back to me.

He knew she wasn't there.

He had just hoped.


He fumbled with the telephone keys as he tried to remember groggily what his sister's number was.

It rang and rang.

He tried again.

And again.

"Stop calling."

"Put her on," Chuck commanded with finality to Serena's sharp tone.

"She's not coming back so don't try," Serena snapped.

But she didn't hang up.

"Put her one," Chuck commanded again with equal fervor.

"She's pregnant, Chuck," Serena said seethed. "And even if she wasn't... You're dangerous. Don't even think of coming back here."

So naturally, that was exactly what he did.

He didn't even have time to cast Serena out. He knew that his own wife was pregnant. What sort of monster did she think he was?


At the sharp rap on the door, Blair knew instinctively who it was.

It was him.

It always was him.

"Don't answer it," Serena warned. Blair stood up easily, her eyes trained to the door.

And then she heard his voice.

It was all over then.

Like it wasn't before.




"Blair, what are you doing?"

She was already walking steadily out of the room.

His voice was breaking her heart. She had to go to him. She always had to go to him.

"You can't go back to him."

You just don't understand.

Blair gazed silently at her friend with the words that she knew would never make sense to anyone else.

"He threw a lamp at you," Serena reiterated.

"He didn't," Blair said. "He threw a lamp. It just happened to land near me."

"You're pregnant."

"I'm aware."

"Is he?"

"Of course."

"How can you go back to him?" Serena cried desperately.

You just don't understand.

"Love isn't logical, Serena," Blair said gently. "If it was, it wouldn't have the pull that it does. We're magnetic. I can't stop this anymore than you can."

Come back to me, Blair.

In the end, it was always his voice that called her back to him.


Chuck leaned his head against his closed door.

She hadn't come. The walk back to his place was treacherous with the knowledge that this might have been the final time.

But it wasn't.

Because that door was open and there she was, closing it behind her as they stared at each other.

"I'm sorry."

They were just words. And they weren't even words that Blair needed. Because she knew. She always knew. He was sorry. He was always sorry. But it didn't matter because no matter what they did to each other, they would always find a way back to each other.

He was still drunk.

She knew this as he fell to his knees.

She walked towards him and he leaned into her stomach. He grasped her hips tightly against him with words he didn't have to voice.

Don't you ever leave me again.


He didn't have to worry. She couldn't even if she tried. And she had, on several occasions.

"I'm sorry," he said again against her dress.

"It's okay," Blair whispered, stroking his hair lovingly.

Because it was. Strangely, it just was.

He leaned away slightly, if only to caress her stomach gently.


He rose to his feet and she knew that without a doubt, he would be a better father than Bart ever was.

It was a second of them staring heatedly at each other before they were upon each other with the desire and passion that would never escape them.

They stumbled, ripping at each other's clothes and it just made the most sense in all the world.

Because it wasn't logical.

It was just them.