A/N: So I started this and hated how it came out but I think I made it at least a little better and wanted to get it out (agai, before the next episode, you'll see if you rad it.) See give me feedback, but I'm still delicate. It might seem a little random but if you continue it, it will be better, I promise.

Summary: "Hello, lover. The only thing that is keeping me from coming after you right now is the fact that I know you listen to these messages with constant vigilance. That you still love listening to my voice. But it's only a matter of time. You know that."

Disclaimer: All characters do not belong to me. Again, inspired by DH. Vaguely.

She curled in on herself on the bathroom floor of the apartment she had been without for what seemed like eternities. And even though she was late and was wiping vomit off of her face, she wasn't going to panic. She refused.

Because she could feel him stirring in his bed.

Their bed.

As of tonight. Or last night, according to her phone which now read 3:18 AM.

Even from his slight "Blair," she couldn't help but smile, through her slowly cresting fear. They were together again. She felt the relief and safety that was only attributed to being in his arms again. She drew her knees to her chest and held herself, feeling a mixture of emotions she was sure were hormones.


She could hear him shifting in the other room and she didn't want him to come into the naked light to see her in distress. He couldn't know. Everything was too new again. She had to wonder why she thought being apart from him would ever be better.

She knew the real reason. Because they just had to be apart for awhile. She had loved him too much. But it was okay now. She could handle it now. She could handle herself. Handle him. And they would be perfect.

Even if the future she had envisioned for them was slowly seeping away. It frightened her terribly because they couldn't be torn apart again. She had promised herself to him once and for all. This couldn't be imploding on itself already.

Blair stood to her feet, shutting off the bathroom light and crept back into their room to crawl back into the bed that housed the man that was finally hers again. For good.

"Where'd you go?"

She could tell from his hazy voice that he was as delirious from the post coitus as she was. Before she woke up, frightening herself.

"Nowhere," Blair said simply, hoping it would fool him. His arm wrapped perfectly around her, drawing her down onto their bed like she was meant to be there all along. She curled at his side, feeling the comforting rhythm of his easy breaths.


She felt him tilt her chin to his gaze that was only vaguely decipherable in the darkness.

"You'd tell me if something was wrong."

She knew he sometimes worried when she went into the bathroom for extensive periods of time. But the water wasn't running and she hoped he was out of it enough not to hear it.

"Even this soon."

"Always," she promised, burying her face in his skin at his ribs.

"Blair," he said softly, making her look at him again. "Are you happy?"

"Deliriously," she said truthfully.

Because there was nothing more truthful than that. Which was why she hated herself when she knew he would be waking up alone the next morning.

And for the indefinite future.

Blair's knuckles clenched the steering wheel of the car she just learned to drive as she tentatively eased her foot against the acceleration, breaking from her reverie. Her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, taking in all her worldly possessions that consisted of half of her designer wardrobe that she hadn't had the chance to pawn like rest including a silvery slip and one Erikson Beamon necklace.

After getting off the train into Los Angeles, Blair had realized it would have been more convenient to have learned to drive as it was customary when she was 16. But she lived in New York. And there always seemed to be a limo at her service, strangely.

She couldn't afford to make waves now. She couldn't get a driver's license or use any of her accounts. She paid for her train ticket with cash to cross the country where she was sure no one would find her.

And by no one, she meant Him.

She had to hock her expensive possessions just to get to California. She knew how he thought. Because he thought like her. No matter what he did, there was no way he could follow her when she was being that careful. That was one thing she had learned in the past four years.

Maybe she should have been looking at the road.

The airbag deployed as Blair lost control of the wheel when she collided with an incoming car. Blair sat as smoke curled from her hood, her hands shaking. She didn't register a door opening and the survey of her car.

The door was wrenched open when she realized she was crying.

"Are you okay?"

Blair looked up into kind blue eyes that strangely made her feel suddenly safe. She felt his hands reach out and pull her gingerly from the car.

"Are you alright?"

"Sorry," Blair said, surveying the damage her car made on his. They were pulled over on the side of the rode. She was relieved to see that there was more damage done to her car than his. Only one of his headlights had been hit.

"It's just a scratch," he grinned good naturedly. Blair couldn't remember the last time she had seen a smile like that. "What about you?"

"I'm..." Blair looked over her shoulder to see the scrap of metal she tried to pay for with couture. She looked back to him. "Please don't sue me."

"What?" he asked, laughing with surprise.

"I've recently gotten into some... trouble," Blair said uncomfortably. "I can't give you my information."

"What are you, a fugitive?" he asked doubtfully.

"No," she laughed nervously. "Nothing like that. I could get you cash if you wanted--"

"I don't want your money," he said with confusion.

"I don't have insurance," Blair said. "Please, just don't call the police."

"Are you sure you didn't just escape from prison?" he teased.

"You would have heard if I was arrested," Blair said quietly, looking around.

"Are you..." his eyes followed her curiously. "Are you sure you're alright? Is someone following you or something?"

He watched her eyes flash.

"No," she denied quickly.

"Don't worry," he said, watching her with fascination. "I'm not going to call the police."

"You're not," Blair stated doubtfully.

"You're obviously in some sort of trouble."

"It's not with the law," she assured him dryly.

"I'm sure of that," he said with his disarming smile.

"You are."

"There is no way someone someone as beautiful as you held up a liquor store."

"I could be a prostitute," Blair deadpanned.

"I highly doubt that."

"Why?" Blair asked. "An area you're familiar with?"

He laughed again. She had never heard anyone laugh so freely in she didn't remember how long.

She liked it.

"Listen," Blair said. "If there's a pawn shop or something around here I can get you some money."

"You don't have to pay me off," he said with surprise. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I don't have insurance and am acting strangely suspicious."

"You're obviously running from something."

"The law," Blair said.

"Or maybe I am just incredibly astute when it comes to a damsel in distress."

"What if I'm not in distress?" Blair asked. "What if I'm the distresser?"

"Then maybe it's just your esteemed beauty that's throwing me off my guard," he assumed.

"You're going to have to stop flattering me," Blair said. "I might start trusting you."

"What's so untrustworthy about me?" he asked.

"Nothing," Blair said. "That's just it. You're too perfect."

"You have some serious trust issues," he said.

"And you seem oddly idealistic," Blair said. "Maybe now you'll let me go."

"Not quite," he said, a strange and familiar quirk to his smile. Her blood ran cold.

"What is it?" Blair asked. "I'll give you anything."

She knew how dangerous that sentence was. And she knew exactly the sort of person that would smirk at her lecherously and take advantage of that.

"How about lunch?" he offered. "You do owe for scratching my headlight."

Blair laughed lightly.

"Is that it?"

"'Is that it?'" he repeated. "I was so sure you were going to turn me down."

"You could turn me in," Blair said.

"I couldn't do that," he replied.


"You're giving me an opening for more flattery."

"Right," she smiled. "Lunch it is, then."

"One more thing," he stopped her.


"What's your name?"

"Blair," she replied, anxious of telling someone her real name.

"Blair," he repeated slowly. "It's very beautiful. I'm Cameron."

She shook the hand he offered her, scolding herself for crashing into some guy whose name happened to begin with a C.


"Where do you want to go?" Cameron asked.

"I just got into town," Blair said. "I don't know where anything is."

"Then I suppose we'll have to ride together," he said.

"All my things are in my car," Blair said, ignoring is innocent come on. She wasn't used to anything that didn't involve reminders of the backseats of limos.

"Don't worry about it," Cameron said, opening her door to her dwindling possessions. He starting hauling things into his own car when something slipped to the ground.


"Don't worry about it," Blair said, picking it up to pocket it.

"Is that a diamond necklace?"

"It was a gift," Blair said uncomfortably. "I told you that you would have heard if I was arrested."

"What's your last name?" he asked. She observed him with distrust.

"I won't tell anyone," he promised. "I swear."

"There's only one person that I would have a problem with you telling."

"So you are running from someone," Cameron said. "I'm assuming an ex-boyfriend."

"Not exactly," Blair said. "Could you do me a favor?"

"Sure," Cameron shrugged.

"Do not ever about that," she replied, sliding into the passenger seat. Cameron just started the engine, nodding. "You're really alright with this."

"I wouldn't do anything to make you feel uncomfortable."

"You are so strange," Blair said.

"It's strange that I don't want to make you uncomfortable?" he asked, driving away and leaving her smashed one behind.

"It's strange that it doesn't please you to make me uncomfortable."

"I wouldn't do that," Cameron said genuinely.

"Strange," Blair said to herself.

He promised that he wouldn't ask. "Is this alright?"

Blair looked at the diner with a strange look.

"Is something wrong?"

"I haven't been to a diner since I was 17," she said.

"Really?" he asked. "Where did you live?"

Blair shot him a look.

"If someone was following you, wouldn't they know already where you were from?"

"You are remarkably supportive despite the fact that I know you think I'm insane."

"You're not," Cameron said. "I just know you're really scared."

"I am," Blair said. "But not of what you think."

"Saying things like that doesn't make me any less curious," Cameron said.

"Sorry," Blair said. "But I can't expect you to understand."

"I don't expect to understand," Cameron said. Blair opened the door and they walked into the establishment together. He watched her with fascination as she ate.

"What?" Blair asked.

"I saw the sort of things you own," Cameron said. "You could pay me off but you won't."

"I can't access my accounts without--"

Blair cut herself off and continued with her food.

"Whoever is after you is watching you," he said.

"He sees everything," Blair murmured.


Blair's eyes snapped to his. "Do you have any quarters?"

"Only one date and you're already asking me for money," Cameron sighed before searching his pockets. "You really do have me under your spell."

"I just need to check my messages."

"You check your messages even though you ran away," Cameron said, but handing quarters over to her.

"Just in case," Blair said and went to the back of the restaurant. She just couldn't bear to tell Camerona about... him. And how it was the only way she could hear his voice anymore.

She dispensed the quarters and punched in the number.

You have two new messages.

"Blai--" Blair immediately erased Serena's voice. Of course it wouldn't be her mother. Like mattered. She waited with bated breath for the next message. The phone beeped. There was silence on the other end and she knew who it was.

"Hello, lover," he finally sighed. "The only thing that is keeping me from coming after you right now is the fact that I know you listen to these messages with constant vigilance. That you still love listening to my voice. But it's only a matter of time. You know that. So just keep listening. I'll keep leaving messages that I know you listen to. Next time I'll get your number. And then I'll get your coordinates. Then your house. I will find you, Waldorf. Don't think I'm ever going to give up on us. You know that."

Blair breathed heavily, waiting for him to disconnect. But she heard another one of his husky breaths and waited for his next taunt.

"I still do. I love you. Always."

She attempted not to cry after he hung up.

When she sat in front of Cameron, she made sure none of her tears were showing.

"So let's cut to the chase," Blair announced.

"Is everything alright?" Cameron asked, knowing that wasn't just some message.

"I'm pretty much homeless right now," Blair said. "I don't even have a car to sleep in. Not entirely my fault."

"You crashed into me," Cameron reminded her.

"Yeah, but that was because I had never driven before," Blair shrugged. It struck her as strange that he was smiling at her.

"Are you asking if you can move in with me?" Cameron asked.

"I was actually asking if I could have like 200 dollars," Blair deadpanned. "You already gave me four quarters."

"Don't worry about it," Cameron shrugged. "I live in Orange. I have plenty of room."

She stared at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You're just going to let some strange woman who is possibly wanted by the cops into your mansion in the OC?"

"Like I said," Cameron said. "I know how well off you are. You wouldn't go so low as to steal from me. And it helps that you're hot."

She couldn't help but laugh. Because for a moment, he sounded like her life four years ago.

"Right," Cameron remembered. "No flattery."

"I think flattery is understandable now that we're roommates."

"I just saved you from a fiery car crash and some stalker," Cameron said. "I think we're more than roommates."

"I think I could be okay with that," Blair said.

Already the wheels in her head was turning. It had been so long since she schemed to survive. But she knew it was the only way.

She only wished she wasn't so fond of Cameron.