A/N: Seriously FF writers, I know spoilers are depressing, but the angst is making me insane. That is what I go to FF for. For happy Chair. (Hint, hint, what this is going to be about.) Anyway, spoilers are pretty much on the up so I'm pleased. This is really short (and as fluffy as my writing can get.) I was just walking through my house and the muse blessed me with this 868 word doc. So here you go. Forwarning, Chuck isn't physically in this fic, but he is present all the same.
Summary: "I think it was romantic," Serena said dreamily. "He was emotionally blackmailing me," Blair replied shortly.
Disclaimer: Characters are the genius creation of whoever created them.
Serena was sitting on the couch in her apartment, flipping through Vogue when she heard the door. Her best friend walked into the room a little unsteadily and Serena looked up. Blair leaned against the door to the living room, pulling off her thick sunglasses.
"What's with you?" Serena asked. "You missed brunch, by the way. Mom was worried."
Blair was squinting at the bright lights in the room.
"Are you okay?" Serena finally asked. Blair slunk towards her with a lazy gait. "You look like you have a hangover or something."
"Or something," Blair replied. Serena's eyebrows raised at her. "Your stupid brother proposed to me."
"Again?" Serena asked, only with vague interest as she continued flipping through the magazine. "Well that explains it. Explains why he wasn't there, anyway. Probably nursing his wounds."
"If only," Blair scoffed.
"Which time was that now?" Serena asked, trying to remember.
"I lost count after 7," Blair huffed, collapsing on the couch next to Serena.
"Liar," Serena grinned. "I bet you've been keeping track since Day One in your little notebook with destruction plots scrawled in the margins."
"Fine," Blair rolled her eyes. "23."
"Whoa," Serena said. "Seriously?"
"Well there was that one night at your birthday party where he started drinking and just kept asking," Blair said. "I think he may have forgotten that he was asking and just kept doing it."
"Not likely," Serena said. "Chuck isn't a messy drunk. And he remembers everything."
"And then there was Christmas and New Years where he kept asking because he insisted that it would be more romantic if I accepted then."
"He knows you, B," Serena smirked.
"And then there was my birthday party where he kept asking every hour after midnight," Blair recalled.
"Why midnight?" Serena asked.
"Sentimental value," Blair said under her breath. "And there was November 15 and then May 18."
"The day before his birthday?" Serena asked. "He would be so egocentric to do that. Wait. What's November 15?"
"The day that Victrola opened," Blair said, without thinking. Serena eyed her strangely.
"Yes," Blair replied. "He asked a lot that night too. Something about I would be a fool not to accept then."
"And why would that be?" Serena asked slyly.
"I have no idea," Blair said, feigning innocence. "I think all that stress and Scotch is getting to him. And maybe those purple jackets he wears."
"I'm sure that's it," Serena added. "Well, he's been asking you for a long time."
"Since I was 20," Blair nodded.
"See?" Serena asked. "You keep track."
"Well I just wish he wasn't so damned persistent," Blair said.
"Please," Serena rolled her eyes, scanning the page again. "You love the attention he gives you."
"Making up for my other relationship failures," Blair added pointedly as Serena pretended not to hear.
"And it's not like you're going to say no," Serena said. "Otherwise he wouldn't keep asking."
"Yes he would," Blair snorted. "He's just stubborn."
"Have you?" Serena asked. "Said no?"
"The first time," Blair said. "But only because he caught me by surprise. He was being totally unfair, catching me off guard like that. Not to mention petty."
"I think it was romantic," Serena said dreamily.
"He was emotionally blackmailing me," Blair replied shortly.
"Yeah," Serena said. "Like he hasn't done that before. He just missed you."
"That isn't how I would put it."
"And how would you put it?"
"He just gets so irrational," Blair said. "Technically, I was on a date with the guy."
"He loves you, B," Serena said. "It's not his fault you make him so jealous."
"Yes it is," Blair sniffed. "If he wasn't such a jerk, maybe I would have accepted already."
"If he wasn't such a jerk he wouldn't have got you in the first place," Serena retorted. "Tell me I'm wrong."
Blair glowered at he. "Fine. But you can't say it was fair just announcing how I was going to marry him to the room."
"He did have a ring," Serena reminded her. "And to be fair, he did actually pose the question."
"Only after he ordered it," Blair said. "And he wonders why I decline."
"You said you've only actively refused him once," Serena said.
"I have a migraine," Blair announced with a harsh change of subject. "I'm going to bed."
"Good luck," Serena said under her breath as Blair entered her room.
She dropped her sunglasses on the floor as she saw what was covering every square inch of surface in her room.
Serena walked into her room casually.
"Oh yeah," she said. "Those came for you when I got back from brunch. He must have anticipated you coming back here after your fight."
"It wasn't a fight," Blair said, picking up a card.
"What do you mean?" Serena asked. "Doesn't it usually end in you slamming some door in his face or throwing something at his head?"
"Not this time," Blair murmured, handing her the card attached to the thousands of peonies. "It's November 15th today."
"Oh, my god," Serena said as she read that distinctive scrawl, pulling Blair in a tight embrace. "I can't believe you."
The card fluttered to the ground, forgotten by Serena's excitement.
I knew you'd say yes.