A/N: This is warning to those who have been calling my Chuck and Blair so OOC that I should be ashamed of myself. Whatever. This is meant to be a more humorous fic (though I'm more likely to mess that up than characterization.) If you don't like it, don't read it. Its just fiction. You can tell by the quote (yes Buffy again) that this isn't the stuff of emotional depth. Its just something I wrote. Post Season 2 Pre Season 3 so Chair is happy. I wasn't too sure about this after I wrote it but I'm a little more confident about it now.

Summary: Groping in a broom closet isn't dating. You don't call it a date until the guy spends money.

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters of the quote, but I do put words in their mouths so you are just going to have to deal with it. Usually I don't put the quote that I'm using for aesthetic purposes or paraphrase right in the fic I'm writing, but I just thought it was funny and everything reminds me of Chuck and Blair that I did it anyway.

We should just admit we're dating

Groping in a broom closet isn't dating. You don't call it a date until the guy spends money.

Fine. I'll spend, then we'll grope. Whatever.

-Xander and Cordelia


It was the third day after he had returned from Europe that he realized it.

He didn't know why it was suddenly bothering him so much (even if he did.) They never really had The Talk. Really all he could recall from that day was shoving her into the back of his limo. All that transpired between them after that overshadowed everything that happened that day.

So, no, he must have missed the conversation that they were exclusive or maybe it would be alright for her to leave some of her things for when she stayed over.

He did, however, vividly remember telling her that he loved her.

All the rest didn't really seem to matter. Because her things weren't in his closet.

Because she wasn't staying over.

It was the third day after he had returned from Europe that he realized it.

The one and only girl who he would ever tell he loved had not spent one entire night with him.

Maybe he did know why this was bothering him so much.

Because he couldn't help the glare as Blair Waldorf threw her head back and laughed, her hand on the arm of some disposable life guard.

No one crosses Chuck Bass.

"Thinking assassination plots again?"

Chuck turned shortly to see Eric walking up beside him. Chuck returned his malevolent glare to those who deserved it most.

Eric watched with mild amusement as Chuck gripped his scotch glass so that his knuckles turned white. His dark eyes flicked from the obscenities that flashed in front of him decisively.

"Do you have a better suggestion? Making a move on some other guy's girlfriend..." Chuck paused, not looking away, speaking more to himself. "What does she think she's playing at?"

"I think you would know better than anyone else," Eric suggested. "And maybe news of the Great Chuck Bass's devoted hasn't reached the ears of Hamptons townies yet."

"As surprising as that would be," Chuck drawled, "there are at the very least two people in this room who are aware of what happened before we left the city and we are not amused."

"No we are not," Eric said with mock seriousness.

"I wasn't talking about you."

"I know," Eric grinned. "So are you going to drawl something perverted at her and make her drag you away or not? Because if you don't, this party is reaching seriously boring proportions."

"As much as I love being your entertainment for the night," Chuck said, "I thought you and future-sis were attempting to hide Serena's whereabouts from the parentals."

"Jenny's soaking in the Hamptons experience," Eric said to Chuck's eyeroll.


"And your jealous attacks never cease to entertain me."

"I do not get jealous," Chuck said in disgust.

"So why have you been staring at Blair for the three hours that you both arrived?" Eric asked. "I mean, the two of you did get here together. And in the 72 hours since you've been officially dating, I've seen you overreact for approximately 17 of them."

"Over exaggeration," Chuck said without any hesitance.

"Remind me again why she's flirting with some townie just to goad you," Eric said. "Did you have a fight already?"

"No," Chuck said in annoyance. "We've been doing the opposite. In fact, I'm pretty sure you have to be talking to be fighting. And we haven't been doing much of that either. Unless you count groans and shrieks-"

"Okay," Eric said, putting up a hand. "I get it. So why don't you go talk to her now?"

"Because that would just be..." Chuck scoffed.

"Logical?" Eric asked. Chuck glowered at him again. "Or maybe you are enjoying sending her meaningful looks across the room while she ignores them for some guy that drives a Camaro."

"The fact that you're attempting to manipulate me makes me proud at how far you've come," Chuck said.

"Just go," Eric said. "I want to finish this soap opera before I have to go convince Rufus that Serena has taken a vow of silence."

"A tremendous goal, to be sure," Chuck said, putting his glass down with slightly more force than it entailed. Eric knew it did the trick because wide brown eyes flicked in their direction before widening again at fake amusement at whatever she was being told.


With acute satisfaction, Chuck noticed her body tense at his approach. Though he had to admit he was not being that stealthy. He knew how much he must smell of scotch and Blair was always astute when it came to those sorts of things.

But could still be smooth.

Because smooth is what he did.

"Waldorf," he said suavely, easing a hand around her stiff (bare) shoulders. He couldn't help staring at them for a moment. Especially that point where they met her neck. He missed licking it. Even if it had only been 12 hours since he had last done that.


He looked up into her face, his eyes narrowing. There was no detectable venom there. In fact, she just sounded downright bored. And that was downright insulting.

There was nothing to provoke and that was irritating to say the least.

"Who's your friend?"

Blair rolled her eyes, finally shrugging away from him.

"This is..." Blair said pointedly, looking at the townie in front of them.

"Classy, Waldorf," Chuck said before he could answer. "You don't even get a guy's name before you try to make me jealous with him."

"I'm not trying to make you jealous," Blair sneered.

"I'm sorry," he finally spoke up. "I had no idea she had a boyfriend."

"Well, she does," Chuck snapped just as Blair said, "I don't."

Chuck's head snapped to her face as she glared defiantly up at him.

They both didn't notice as they were left alone.

"You can't blame me for talking to other people, Bass," Blair finally said, though his fingers tensed on her shoulders again.

"'Coming Onto' would be the key word you would use there," Chuck said. "And if I feel that my territory is being threatened than I have every right to defend it."

"Oh, so you own me now?" Blair mocked. "I didn't know that the necklace from 2007 was documentation for your possession of me."

"Then I would hate to remind you of what other certain gifts were bestowed up on you-"

"Oh, okay," Blair said acidly, backing away from him and he had the sudden irrational fear that she was leaving him for good. "So some stockings and flowers mark your territory. Because that makes sense."

She was definitely walking away from him and he was definitely not liking it. For once, he couldn't understand what he had done to her. He understood her wrath had been rightfully incurred by him on many occasions and he couldn't help but think it.

She was just being... mean.

And he was turning into a woman as he thought it, but watching her walk away was breaking his heart.

And he had no idea why.

And now he was angry.

Stunned, he watched her walk up the stairs of the Hamptons estate before he realized he was Chuck Bass, god dammit. And she was Blair Waldorf.

His girlfriend.

And she was going to recognize that. She was going to admit it right to his face.

Her footsteps were echoing away before he streamlined towards her. Knowing the exactly direction she would go, he followed her upstairs before slamming the door she had entered through behind him.

"Melodramatic, much?" she asked. She was sitting on the bed as though she were waiting for him. But he knew it was just an illusion. Because she just knew the things he would do. She knew he would follow her. And now she must know that he would of course overreact.

"What the hell are you doing?" Chuck asked with exaggerated slowness, trying not to let his confusion overwhelm him. Blair was like a shark. If she smelled blood or weakness in the water, she would attack.

Though he had to admit, he would do the same.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said in that innocent way that could fool anyone but him. "I was just politely making conversation before you decided to make a scene."

"Excuse me if I have a problem with poor townies hitting on my girlfriend," Chuck replied shortly.

"Girlfriend," Blair repeated. "I don't recall us having that certain conversation."

Chuck's eyes narrowed. "Does what happened in the back of the limo after I came back ring any bells?"

"We had sex, Chuck," Blair rolled her eyes. "Not exactly new territory for us."

"And then we had it again," he reminded her seductively before taking a seat next to her. "And again. And again. And again. I'm sure I'm painting a picture here for you."

"Am I supposed to assume that the day that we spend the night together and you don't bolt is the day we're going steady?"

He didn't like how she was mocking him. It was vexing.

"Not that you would know, considering that you ever stayed the night, need I remind you, but you're supposed to assume that after I tell you that I love you, I'm pretty concrete on where my devotion lies."

"So you've been going around for the past three days calling me your girlfriend."

"Not exactly," Chuck said. "We were confined too much to the space of my bedroom for me to go around telling people about my private life. Not that I'm complaining."

"Well let me clue you into something, Bass," Blair said. "A date isn't us fornicating the back of your limo like some slutty cheerleader on prom night. You only call it a date when the guy spends money. Then you can rightfully call me your girlfriend."

Chuck stood up in surprise. "What?"

She was smirking with rule humor this time, standing with him.

"This was a power play?" he demanded, more angry at himself for not realizing it sooner.

"Insurance," she replied, still gaging his reaction. Her hot gaze was on his face and he wasn't confused anymore. He was impressed.

"I love you," he said genuinely. He watched her squirm slightly and he knew that she still felt uncomfortable with him being so open with her. They were the type of people to manipulate and deceive. But ever since he said it, he knew nothing to be more true.

He could still see that she was smiling underneath.

This happened a lot, he came to realize. One moment his passion was ordering him to lean in and kiss her and the next they were half naked when Chuck would realize he forgot to lock the door. Blair pushed on his half beared chest.

"You know us screwing on some random stranger's bed still isn't a date," she reminded him.

"If it was we would have been dating the second time we had sex," he smirked. "And I don't think I need to remind you I've spent more money on you than more of your ex's combined since almost a year ago."

"It was just a necklace, Chuck," Blair said. "And I want a nice restaurant. One that doesn't involve you groping me under the table."

"Don't pretend like that isn't your favorite part."


"You saying my name like that isn't making me concentrate on nice restaurants, you know."

She glared at him.

He laughed.

"Fine. I'll spend. Then we'll fornicate. Whatever."

"As long as we're clear on that."