A/N: I randomly just wrote this after watching Desperate Housewives. Its a really cliche plot and everyone does it, but I just had to get this out.

Summary: Tonight he kissed her because if there was one thing he could admit to himself, it was even though he never planned on taking a seat by her, he knew that once he did, there was only one way this could go.

Disclaimer: None is belongs to me. All belongs to GG. Song title comes from the Weezer song "Undone (The Sweater Song)" because it was stuck in my head.

He worshiped her from afar as he always had done. Even since they were teenagers, he always held her with a certain high authority. She wasn't like the rest. She was better. Until one pivotal night when she let him in.

He had always worshiped her from afar. Because he wasn't aloud to be close to her. And then she was his and she let herself be his.

Until she wasn't anymore.

So now he worshiped her from afar. This time it wasn't because it would have been him that would have reaped the consequences. It would have been her as well.

Her nauseating wedding ring glimmered at him tauntingly in the dim lights of the bar as he took a seat next to her.

He was done from being afar.

She made no move insinuating that she was aware of his presence. But she knew. He knew that she always knew. Like he did. He ordered a scotch and he was sure he saw a faint eyeroll in the darkness of the bar.

He smirked.

"So," he said, taking a drink as she sipped her own martini. "Come here often?"

She finally released her breath as though thoroughly exhausted. "Is that really the best you can do?"

He just stared at her.

"Fine. Say whatever pre-meditated quip you're going to say and be done with it," she finally said, her voice hoarse. His skin prickled with his own nausea. It wasn't a good feeling to see the only woman he would ever love to just wasting away in front of his very eyes.

"How's..." It was the only thing he could think of to say. But he couldn't even say his name. "Your husband."

And for the first time in Chuck didn't know how long, Blair looked into his eyes.

His stomach churned delightfully like she was offering her virginity to him again.

But they weren't teenagers anymore. She was married but there was still one constant. He was still miserable.

Miserable without her.

"Why would you ask me something like that?" Blair cleared her throat.

"I was hoping you would give me the right answer," he said.

"And you?" Blair asked. "How's Trishelle?"

That name coming from her lips just seemed ridiculous. It was exactly like she meant it to be. Utterly and completely ridiculous.

"How should I know?" he asked indifferently.

"Well she is your girlfriend."

"I think you're using the term girlfriend extremely lightly," Chuck said.

"I don't know," Blair said. "You're having steady sex with her. You take her to society events. That all spells relationship to me."

"And I thought I was completely invisible to you this whole time," Chuck said. "How exactly do you know we're having sex, by the way?"

"Look at her," Blair said, glaring into her glass. "How could you not?"

"Because she's not you."

Blair looked up, her eyes wavering.

"I wish you wouldn't say things like that."

"Why?" Chuck asked. "Because it's true?"

"It doesn't seem so true when you're having sex with her," Blair said.

"I may have neglected to mention that she works for Lily."

She snorted and he felt himself relax. It was easier when they were on even ground. When it wasn't completely obvious that he was so lovesick because he had a "girlfriend." But he liked her sound of bitter glee. It was familiar.

"That's all she is," Blair said with amusement. "Hired help."

He didn't answer and she looked at him again. His expression was so soft and she was sure that she was the only one who had ever seen it. She felt herself freeze but she couldn't look away from him.

"So tell me," Chuck said, taking another drink, "if I just have a fake girlfriend who I'm forbidden to have sexual liaisons with and you're the one who's married, why are you the one who's allowed to be jealous?"

"I said nothing of the sort," Blair said stiffly, drinking down her glass. "And just because you're not allowed to have sex with her doesn't mean you don't want to."

"Like I said before," Chuck said. "She's not you."

"Like you're not attracted to her," Blair sneered.

"I never said that," Chuck shrugged. "But having sex with you is the single most spiritual experience I have ever had and ever hope to have. And nothing will ever be able to measure up to that. Nothing compares."

"I told you, Chuck," Blair whispered devastatingly. "You really shouldn't say things like that."

"You never told me why," he said in his own husky drawl. Their faces were so close that she had to close her eyes.

"This was your plan," she whispered.

"Are you really surprised?" Chuck asked.

"No," she said. "I'm surprised that I haven't done anything to stop you yet."

"I'm not."

"No?" Blair asked. "I'm usually very apt at thwarting your advances."

"For awhile," Chuck said. "But you give in sooner or later."

"Not this time, Bass," she said, starting to pull away from him. Not surprisingly, he grasped at her forearms, trying to thwart her own attempts at escaping.

"I can't let you walk away this time," he said. Blair winced, wrenching away from his harsh grasp.

"You don't have a choice."

"We'll see about that."

"And neither do I," she said. "I shouldn't have come here tonight."

"Why not?" Chuck asked, doing anything to stall her escape. "You knew I would be here."

"You own the hotel, Chuck."

"Which struck me as odd when I discovered you spend at least two nights a week here drinking yourself to an early grave."

"No," Blair shook her head slowly. "That's you. I'm not losing massive amounts of liver tissue."

"It doesn't mean that you're not wasting away all the same."

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," she said, trying to make herself scarce.

"I'm only making it easier," Chuck said, brushing her hair from her face. He felt her recoil slightly.

"What are you doing?" she asked in genuine confusion.

"What we're good at," he said, almost confused at her fear at his touch. Some sort of new and pure fear like she was afraid he would melt her right away.

So she didn't stop him when he kissed her in that empty bar that night.

Maybe she should have.

When he went there that evening, of one thing he was sure of. He knew that Blair Waldorf Hyphenation Somethingorother would be at his hotel. Of all the nights she spent there, he spent just that many observing her from afar. She would drink two gin martinis, grab her purse and be on her way.

Her husband never accompanied her. Serena never accompanied her. She was always alone and always drinking. It wasn't anything he could understand, really, and it wasn't anything he would act upon. Because she was married whether that was her original intent or not and he had to witness the heart wrenching repercussions. That was just something he earned.

Tonight, however, was different from all of those other nights. Tonight he let his curiosity get the better of him and approached the one woman on the Upper East Side that was unapproachable. If only because it was who they were and the sort of history that they shared.

Tonight he took a seat next to her and made her life for the first time since he could remember.

Tonight he kissed her because if there was one thing he could admit to himself, it was even though he never planned on taking a seat by her, he knew that once he did, there was only one way this could go.

Enough time passed that being apart was just painful. And sitting next to each other without being together was more painful.

So he kissed her.

So she let him.

And that was when he knew something was really wrong.

Chuck could be subtle. It was one of his many talents. But one of his many flaws was patience. And the biggest flaw of them all went by the name of Blair Waldorf (sans hyphenation; because his woman would never be married to anyone but him.)

Such displays made themselves apparent because Chuck Bass could be damn subtle. But when he was with her, some of that reasoning just didn't exist anymore.

Especially when she was with someone that she shouldn't.

(Anyone that wasn't him.)

Have sex with me.

Though he had felt her tremble against him in the heat that night, he knew it wasn't one of his most clever lines. But it was a line that would work on her because it was blunt, straight to the point, and completely true.

When he was in the presence of Blair Waldorf, all he could do was be blunt. He learned from experience have sex with me was something that might not work so well.

That didn't mean he couldn't still be blunt.

"Come to my bed with me."

His whisper grated huskily in his ear as he trailed down her precious neck. It had the same connotation as his other come-ons had, if only a little more romantic. And he knew that was something Blair would respond to.

He had been working her since the minute he sat down with her.

He just didn't think that it might actually work, even if he hoped it would.

He hated how the other man's ring burned into his flesh where she gripped him but she pulled away slowly this time, studying him.

He was being straight with her. As straight as he could come. He wanted her to come upstairs with him. He also wanted her to never leave and divorce the bastard, but he wasn't going to push her too far too fast.

"You shouldn't say things like that to me."

Now he didn't have to ask.

He knew.

It was because she was with him every step of the way. And adultery didn't mean a damn thing when you were with the person you were supposed to in the beginning.

He pressed his lips fervidly against hers again, trying to convince her with her tongue. His hands slid easily up her thighs. She put her hand down on his but didn't try to push him away. She dragged him closer and he knew he had won.

If only he hadn't been so victorious so soon.

She stopped and Chuck knew something was very wrong.


It was in the one syllable that made him do so. Because never in the two and a half decades that he had known her had he heard such fear in just one syllable. So he stopped. And he saw her flinch.

"It's Lex."

Chuck scowled.

"Lex," he sneered quietly.

"I suppose I have a penchant for men with unconventional nicknames," Blair said, pushing his hands away this time.

"I can name at least three works with my name and only one with his," Chuck said, having to always be the winner.

"You have to leave," Blair said, her eyes on the other side of the bar. Chuck refused to look at her husband. He knew he would lose it if he did. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes, away form her husband.

Because it always was about him.


"If he wasn't here right now," Chuck uttered darkly, "what would you be doing?"

He ignored the part of his brain that screamed me and just waited for her answer, knowing she would never give it to him.

"You have to leave," she whispered desperately instead. He knew it was the only thing to do, if only because she asked him in a way that sent such fear into his heart.

"I want to see you again," he ordered, letting her know that he was leaving her no choice.

He wasn't letting go this time.

"I don't want him to get the wrong idea," Blair said.

"If he's smart he already has the wrong idea," Chuck said. "But then again we both know it's easier when you're not with me to be with men lacking in the brains department."

"Do you want him to find out?" Blair asked in exasperation. "Do you have any idea what he'll do?"

Her shoulders stiffened and his blood ran cold.

That's when he knew. He just knew. He reached out for her shoulder and she flinched. Like she did when he would come at her with no warning. Even with the impending threat of her husband coming at them, he caressed her shoulder gently, juxtaposing to the intense anger that was flooding through him.

"Is he hurting you?"

Fear flickered through her eyes again and there was no denying it. She knew it and most importantly, he knew it.

"If you think I'm actually going to let you go back to him now then you're-"

"If you leave right now then I promise I'll see you tomorrow."

She had hit him in his weak spot. Negotiations were something he did and if it meant seeing her again then he had to do it. It was a war with himself to let her go home to some sort of monster. More than he was. Because Chuck never wanted to hurt Blair. But the man she was bound to legally was turning her into a person he didn't even recognize.

And he was going to rectify it if it was the last thing he did.

"I'll be at the house at noon," she said, pulling away. "Promise me."

She couldn't wait for the answer as she intercepted her husband in the middle of the room, shielding Chuck from view.

To protect him.

And the only promise that Chuck could make was that he would protect her too.

It was one knock before the door was thrown open and he was propelled backwards. Her dark locks hung past her shoulders and her eyes were wide with fear. He almost threw himself across the threshold just to protect her.

"You have to go," she whispered hoarsely, closing the door behind them. "Lex was supposed to go to work today but he had a hangover."

Chuck couldn't help but sneer. He had his fair share of the like, but at least he knew how to manage his affairs. Her hands were trembling and he saw it. She hadn't bothered to put a sweater on and he could see the light bruises that were healing across her arms.

She caught sight of his furious eyes and crossed her arms in attempt to hide.

"I'm not just going to walk away from this," Chuck said darkly. "I'm not going to let you walk back into the house with that maniac."

"It's not like that."

"Then tell me, Blair," Chuck said. "What is it like?"

She hesitated and he knew he could go in for the kill.

"Is it just how you imagined it would be?" he asked. "Call me a traditionalist but if you had said yes to my proposal, you wouldn't have to buy concealer in bulk just to cover how much he cares about you."

"You never proposed to me," Blair snapped. "Humphrey got you in the face before you could even get the words out."

"And I carry my scars with pride because I got them protecting us," he retorted. "What about you? Is it worth protecting this sham of a marriage? Is it worth being without me?"

"Egotism doesn't become you, Bass," Blair sneered.

"And you're avoiding the subject," he said.

"Please leave," Blair said, more desperately this time and he should have just known whenever she was putting up a facade.

"Tell him you're leaving him for me," Chuck commanded.


"No," Chuck repeated.

"Don't sound so surprised," Blair said. "You can't just walk back into my life and command that I drop everything."

"Why not?" Chuck asked. "Is he really worth it?"

"No," Blair answered honestly. "But you don't just do that. You don't say no to Lex and you definitely don't leave Lex."

Chuck recoiled, disgusted by the words.

"Or he'll, what?" Chuck asked. "Punish you?"

"Chuck," Blair whispered. "You can't be here. If he knows he'll-"

"Hurt you?"

"He'll hurt you," Blair stressed. "Don't you understand? The minute he saw you in that bar and knew you were back in my life, he freaked. You just have to understand-"

"Is that where you got this?" Chuck asked, gently moving her hair aside to show the blue bruise beneath her ear. There was a thunderous noise within the apartment and she flinched.

"He's coming."

"I'll refrain from suggesting we meet at the top of the Empire State Building, knowing how that has backfired in the past," Chuck said.

"Why should I trust you?" she asked.

"Because as much as I hurt you," he answered, "I would never do this. And we both know it."

"Say you love me."

"You know I do," Chuck answered without a moment's hesitation.

"He'll find us."

"And I'll protect you."

Always had, always would.

She knew he was still awake. She could feel his eyes burning all over her. But she couldn't look at him in those eyes. Even as she lay pressed intimately against his own flesh, she couldn't look at him. The Parisian lights shown through the windows and it was the first time she had felt safe since he pulled out that velvet box that he never got the words out for.

But he would still look at her in that way he would and she knew it was in the back of his mind. He would look at her and she knew there was a glittering diamond out there for her after the divorce papers were signed and her bruises healed.

She turned to face him.

"Are you thinking about it too?"

He was far too cocky for his own good.

"Can I see yours?" Blair asked quietly. His eyes darkened and she knew he was thinking back to that dark street in Prague. "Is it very terrible?"

"It was worth it," Chuck answered, sitting up. "If it meant getting that ring back, it was worth it."

"You never told me that story," Blair said quietly, absentmindedly tracing his scar where two Czech muggers could have taken something away from her that would truly have killed her.

He turned to face her again. "You never agreed to be my wife."

"That doesn't mean I won't," Blair answered. He laid back down with her, tracing her own flesh with his hands. "Is that okay?"

"That's very okay," he smirked, liking the sound of how his name and her name would one day be intertwined.

"I think he's very mad right now," Blair said into the darkness.

"It doesn't matter," Chuck said. "He's been served. He doesn't have a choice but to sign."

"I like it here," she said softly, letting him touch her blue hurt all over.

"I know you do," Chuck smiled into her skin.

"I wish I was there," Blair said. "I wish I could have saved you."

"I'm just fine here," he promised, knowing that was a dark week for them both.

"What if you hadn't?"

"I'm just fine here," he said more forcefully.

"I wish I hadn't made you go away," she said quietly into his shoulder.

"Just don't do it again," he answered, pulling her in close.

"Then don't die again," she ordered gently. "Chuck."


"When you ask, I'll say yes."

He never had any doubt.

That ring was glittering in his safe for a reason.