AN: Just trying my hand at fluff. This will be a series of five interconnected one-shots. Enjoy! Huge thanks to bethaboo for beta-ing.
Blair Waldorf doesn't eat ice cream. Blair Waldorf eats low-fat, 100 calorie strawberry-kiwi sorbet in minute amounts.
Trust Chuck Bass to change that.
It was another typical New York summer day, sweltering hot with crowds of bustling tourists traipsing around the city. For the four twelve-year-olds currently seeking a chilly refuge in the Ben & Jerry's on Third Avenue, the weather was unpleasant, and the people even more so.
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Blair moaned as they stood in line, sandwiched between a harried mother and her rowdy three-or-four year old sons and a questionable man clothed in black leather. Who wore black leather when it was ninety degrees out? "I should have gone with Eleanor to Paris."
"Come on, B" Serena chided, "it's not that bad."
"Besides, we'll be in the Hamptons in three days," Nate jumped in, eager to save Serena from Blair's withering glare.
Blair narrowed her eyes slightly, before turning her back on the duo and studying the brightly colored menu as though it were Vogue.
The cashier was a bumbling idiot, Blair decided, as he tripped over his words and screwed up their orders. When the other three had finally procured their (rather large) ice creams, Blair stepped up to the counter, only to have to repeat her order once again.
"A strawberry kiwi sorbet in a cup please" Blair repeated sweetly, grimacing at the large ice creams the other three held.
Nate had a banana split that was every bit as sweet and bland as he was, and he was grinning as Serena wiped the whipped cream from his lip. The blonde had an enormous scoop of Chubby Hubby, which Blair wrinkled her nose at. Only Serena would like something that weird. Besides, there were probably 400 calories in that thing. Not that Serene needed to count calories. Bitch.
And Chuck Bass ate his double scoop of Cherry Garcia, taking care so as to not spill a drop on his pastel green polo. He spotted Blair looking at him and winked lasciviously at her while Nate and Serena giggled behind their ice creams. Whipping around to face the cashier once again, Blair felt color rise in her cheeks as she accepted her sorbet with a curt, "Thank you".
"You are not eating that," Chuck stated when Blair rejoined the group at their table.
"What's wrong with it?" Blair asked, wrinkling her nose. "It's strawberry-kiwi sorbet."
"It's not normal, that's what it is," Chuck replied with a shake of his head. "Are you really going to eat that?"
"It's healthy," Blair argued back, stealing a glance at Nate and Serena, both of whom seemed oblivious to the arguing pair in front of them.
Chuck snorted a laugh, and Blair had the sudden urge to color his ridiculous pastel shirt a bright strawberry pink. Before she had the chance though, he stood up and walked back in the direction of the counter.
Rolling her eyes, Blair turned back towards Nate and Serena with a grimace. "Did I just hear you say you wanted to go to Brooklyn?"
"It'll be an experience," Serena exclaimed. "I met the coolest person at the party on Saturday. She's four years older than us and she's throwing this party at her flat in Brooklyn-"
Blair rolled her eyes once again as Nate leaned forward, hanging onto Serena's every word. Blair Waldorf did not belong in Brooklyn, thank you very much.
Focusing instead on her barely touched ice cream, Blair started debating how much weight she could lose before she had to don a swimsuit. Perhaps her mother was right-those petit fours Daddy brought back from France were high in calories and completely unnecessary.
All at once, her sorbet disappeared, only to be replaced by an extra-large New York Super Fudge Chunk, courtesy of one Chuck Bass.
"Bass," Blair growled, whipping around to face his smirk with a glare of her own, "give me back my ice cream."
"This," he nodded towards the melting sorbet in his hand, "is not ice cream."
And with lightning quick speed, he dumped her sorbet into the trash, leaving an irate (and very flustered) Blair looking at the ice cream as if it would bite.
"I bet this has, like, 800 hundred calories in it," she muttered quietly. Not quietly enough, apparently.
"Relax, Waldorf. It's only 300 calories. Not that you couldn't use a few extra pounds"
Blair felt her cheeks flame, but raised her eyebrow at Chuck all the same.
"I asked that guy," he told her sheepishly, shuffling from foot to foot. "But it's per half cup, so I guess it's actually 600."
Still glaring at the ice cream as though it had committed a criminal offense, Blair decided that she might as well humor him. Taking a generous scoop, Blair shoved the entire thing into her mouth, all while glaring at Chuck.
It was good, Blair realized, licking the spoon again.
Before she knew what she was doing, she had finished her ice cream before anyone else-despite the fact that it was bigger than anyone else's and she had started 20 minutes or so after everyone else.
"Wow, B. That ice cream must have been really good," Serena commented, still working on her own large Chubby Hubby.
Blair could only manage a half-glare as Chuck smirked.
She wasn't enough. Never pretty enough, skinny enough, or perfect enough. Maybe if she were Serena, her father would have never left.
Serena, she thought with a sob. She hated how much she missed her (ex) best-friend, but she hated how much she needed the blonde beauty.
Her father and best friend had left, and so had Nate, in a manner of speaking. Nate was physically there, but he seemed increasingly distant nowadays.
The elevator dinged faintly, and Blair idly wondered who it was. Most likely it was Dorota, back from grocery shopping-or perhaps her mother had returned from her business trip a day early.
Sighing, Blair sat up, brushing a few stray crumbs from her dress as she studied herself in the full-length mirror that was artfully propped up against the wall.
Her hair was duller, almost lackluster in the dull light of her bedroom. There was an unseemly red bump forming on the side of her cheek-which looked considerably fuller. Her hips also looked too wide in her pleated uniform skirt, and her stomach nearly bulged over the waistband.
Close to tears, Blair didn't notice the boy approaching her doorway.
"Hey Waldorf," he said quietly, and Blair turned towards him, startled.
"Bass?" she smoothed her pink cardigan, hoping that her hair wasn't as horrible as she thought. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard about your dad," he told her sheepishly "And I figured since Serena skipped town and Nate…well, I'm not sure what's going on with dear old Nathaniel, but I figured he wasn't very good company."
When she made no move to invite him into her room, he held up the bag. "I have ice cream."
"New York Super Fudge Chunk?" she asked, a smile growing on her face.
Chuck nodded, "What did you expect? Fat free strawberry kiwi sorbet?"
Blair laughed, her first real laugh in a few days. "I can't believe you remembered."
Chuck shrugged. "So you got any spoons or what? The ice cream's melting."
"I'll go grab some," Blair told him, heading towards the doorway. "I'm only going to eat a little bit though. I gained two pounds this past week."
"Wait," Chuck grabbed her elbow as she passed him on her way out the door. "Blair, you don't need to worry about that"
Blushing, Blair removed her elbow from his grasp with a roll of her eyes. "Whatever you say Bass"
"I mean it Blair," he called out earnestly as she descended the stairs, "you're beautiful. Just the way you are"
The last part was said quietly, as though she wasn't supposed to hear. Blair shrugged it off, chalking it up to the fact that Chuck was probably trying to get in her pants.
She returned a few minutes later, wielding two silver spoons at Chuck gleefully.
"I propose a challenge," Chuck suggested as they opened their respective pints.
Blair raised an eyebrow, her spoon poised over the ice cream.
"Whoever finishes their ice cream first gets to pick the movie."
Blair frowned, mentally calculating the amount of calories the entire pint ice cream contained.
"Scared?" Chuck taunted with a smirk.
"You're on," Blair told him, digging into her own ice cream with fevered enthusiasm.
They spent the rest of the day complaining about their full stomachs and watching Breakfast at Tiffany's.
"B?" Serena poked her head into the Waldorf penthouse, only to find her best friend curled up on her side, her hair in disarray and her face free of make-up.
"S," she responded wearily, not bothering to sit up. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard you were back in town," Blair raised an eyebrow, and Serena smiled sheepishly." Gossip Girl."
"That was fast," Blair commented. "Did you also read the Gossip Girl posts about why Chuck left me in Tuscany?"
Serena cringed. This was exactly the conversation she had been trying to avoid.
"I hope Lily fired that blonde bitch of a decorator," Blair mentioned offhandedly, but her voice cracked at the end.
"She did," Serena reassured her, neglecting to mention that it was because Lily had found out Amelia was absolutely horrid with color coordination.
"So," Serena edged towards the bed. "How was Tuscany?"
As soon as the words left her mouth, Serena winced. That was possibly the worst possible thing to say in this situation.
"Wonderful," Blair replied sarcastically. "Amidst all the kissing couples, I was all alone in a suite missing him"
"Oh B," Serena dropped the bag she was carrying and hugged her tightly. "It's going to be alright."
"No it won't be, Serena," Blair blinked back tears. "He left me all alone in Tuscany. It wasn't even my idea to go-he invited me!"
Serena continued to hold her as Blair went on, still furiously trying to stem the tears. "I couldn't even enjoy myself like I'd planned. Everywhere I went all I saw was Chuck."
Shaking her head, Blair wiped the remainder of her tears away with the back of her hand.
"I brought ice cream," Serena gestured towards the fallen bag.
"Thanks S," Blair reached for the bag, unearthing two pints of fat-free chocolate sorbet.
"It's only a hundred calories," Serena supplied with a tiny smile.
Blair smiled half-heartedly. She could no longer enjoy anything fat-free once she had been introduced to the wonder that was New York Super Fudge Chunk. And of course he was the only one who knew her favorite ice cream.
"Chuck," her voice was quiet, comforting. He was sitting on her bed, looking utterly lost and the pain etched across his face erased any trace of the old Chuck.
"I brought ice cream," he managed weakly, gesturing to the bag beside him. "Your favorite"
"Chuck," she said carefully, "Chuck, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he replied stoically. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hand through his hair."Blair," he began quietly "I know we're not together, but just for tonight, can we just pretend that everything's okay?"
She took the proffered pint with a small smile and a suggestion.
"Whoever finishes first gets to pick the movie?"
"-your favorite macaroons from Pierre Herme." The small smile playing on her lips had grown exponentially as each gift was placed in her dainty hands.
"And, most importantly, from New York."
Blair's smile grew as he brought out the last gift from behind his back.
"So," he continued. "First to finish picks the restaurant for our date tonight?"
"Deal," she said with conviction, grabbing a pint from him. They glanced between the building and the limo, but Chuck made the decision for them.
"Limo's closer, and," he smirked "it holds a lot of fond memories for you and I."
Blair swatted his shoulder playfully before climbing into the back of the limo.
They sat, knees touching, pints in hand, faces close, and Blair grinned.
"You've never beat me at this game Bass,"
"Don't be so sure Waldorf," he answered with a smirk. "I may have been going easy on you."
Blair scoffed, "Yeah right."
"What can I say? I'm a gentleman"
Blair snorted again, and Chuck shot her a mock-glare. "I'm going to beat you this time Waldorf."
"You sure?" she asked, and though she hadn't meant it to, the question brought back a flood of memories.
He answered with a kiss, pulling her towards him briefly and letting his fingers tangle in her hair. And with a wicked grin, he pulled back and dove into his ice cream, leaving her breathless and unable to remove the lid from her own pint.
"By the way," he said casually between mouthfuls of ice cream. "I love you, too."
He grinned as Blair's head pops up, eyes wide and mouth full of ice cream.
They never made it to the restaurant that night.
Up next: Blair Waldorf doesn't do morning afters. Serena can have her messy, just-rolled-out-of-bed hairdo, but Blair Waldorf's hair is always perfection. Trust Chuck Bass to change that.