A/N: This is sort of a companion piece to "A Thing Worth Saving." But you can read it as a stand alone as well. I actually finished it before I even finished the first one. Its way more light hearted and short and I'm not really sure how I feel about it but I couldn't not write it. It was just something the ending of "A Thing Worth Saving" inspired me to do. So here it is. And yes, it's another one of these.

Summary: At first, he was sure she was just using this as a tactic so he would expose himself. They were in some sort of weird holding pattern and if she knew that there was one thing that could very potentially drive him over the edge, it was Nathaniel Archibald.

Disclaimer: Characters are GG.


"Hey, Nate."

At first, he was sure she was just using this as a tactic so he would expose himself. They were in some sort of weird holding pattern and if she knew that there was one thing that could very potentially drive him over the edge, it was Nathaniel Archibald.

Then he realized she was just having fun.

She did that sometimes.

Blair Waldorf walked through the suite in her high heels and he liked how they made her ankles look, clicking across the floor. On the couch, Nate just looked down.

"Have fun last night?"

She had sat next to him, blinking at him with pretty innocence.

"Blair," Serena said sternly on the other edge of the couch. Chuck just tipped back his drink.

"I don't know about you, Nate," Blair sighed, crossing her legs teasingly, "but I had a lot of fun last night."

"Drop it, Blair," Nate said. "And don't even think about talking like that in front of Juliet."

"Juliet?" Blair asked, feigning innocence. "Juliet... That wouldn't be the name of your girlfriend, would it?"

Nate just had to learn that when she got like this, he just had to let her go.

"Funny," Blair remarked, "but I'm pretty sure the girl you were with last night was not named Juliet."

"You knew her name, did you?" Nate asked in annoyance.

Blair just smiled, turning back to the movie that was murmuring in the background.

"Blair," Nate said quietly some moments later.

"Don't worry your pretty little head," Blair sighed condescendingly. Chuck smirked into his drink, glad the dark lighting of the room helped to disguise it. "You're just lucky I hate her or I would have told her already."

"I didn't sleep with her," Nate said. "That girl last night."

"It's a real accomplishment that you haven't cheated on your girlfriend yet," Blair said, not even bothering to look at him. "Just watch the movie."

Blair hadn't really looked at any of them all night as Nate cast a worried expression towards her. Serena just patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. Chuck didn't miss how Nate gazed at his blonde sister. He almost didn't catch the glazed look of love, with him gazing at the other girl in the room with dark locks.

"Masterful."

Sometimes Nate didn't spend the night in the suite and Serena had left after he had. Chuck sort of liked it alone. And by alone, he meant, with Blair next to him. It amused him that she turned her head quizzically towards him after pretending to watch the movie. She really was an artist.

"How you can make everyone so nervous."

"Except you," Blair rolled her eyes, turning them back to the screen. He knew that she wasn't really seeing what was there.

"No," he said quietly. It wasn't because he was embarrassed or—God forbid—shy, but he knew how his low voice could effect those around him. And sure enough, as he took a seat next to Blair on the couch, she slid away.

Always a diversion.

He watched her tense little body and sort of wished he wasn't on this celibacy kick. Because accomplishing what he needed to accomplish wouldn't go by any faster if he was sleeping around with other women. It didn't do anything for him and it certainly didn't do anything for Blair even if they weren't technically together. Though, they weren't technically apart either.

Holding pattern. He had forgotten what a bitch it could be. Story of his life his last two years of high school.

He couldn't help his hand as it drifted to her bare shoulder to lift her hair from it. He liked it better when he could view her neck.

She slapped his hand away. "Okay, Chuck Bass. You listen to me."

She had whirled around, finally glaring him full in the face.

"Yes," he smirked with rapt attention.

"I don't know if you and Nate have smoked too many J's or whatever," she said coolly, "but I seem to recall distinctly something you said to me months ago."

"And what would that be?"

He liked playing with her and when she got tense like this, it was all the more fun.

"Wipe that smirk off your face," she retorted. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. About how you were planning on proposing to me in the imminent future. Imminent, Bass. That means now."

"No," he said. "Imminent could very well be imminent like death."

"I would rather not be on my death bed when I plan to get married."

"If I had known you were so anxious, I would have tortured you a little more," he said cheekily.

"In a typical Bass man fashion, that would not surprise me," she answered dryly.

"You know," he said, inching closer to her on the couch. She glared at him warningly but he didn't take any heed. His fingers were ghosting towards her bare skin again. "I think I need to test drive the merchandise first. To see that I'm getting what I'm really paying for."

"As much as I love being compared to a prostitute or a piece of machinery," she sneered, "I'm sure you can remember quite distinctly."

"It isn't something a man easily forgets. How the woman he's going to spend the rest of his life with can move in bed."

He was grinning confidently and she didn't like it.

He rolled his eyes. "Relax, Waldorf. It's just a figure of speech."

He laid his arm over the back of the couch casually, feeling the heat of her back.

"Of course I remember. I dream about it every night. And in case you need a demonstration, they are quite vivid."

"What's in it for me?" she asked sinisterly.

"Wasn't that last kiss enough to last you?" he asked. Blair gazed at him with a good, strong look before standing on her lethal looking shoes.

"Have it your way," she answered simply. "I'll see you in another month, then."

It was a visible facade. Because they both knew that she wasn't going to make it outside of the room. The way he was, he wouldn't let her take another step. He caught her hand.

"You always have to be so melodramatic, don't you?" he asked as he pulled her back down.

"I learned from the best," she said tauntingly. He wasn't looking at her expression anymore. Her mouth was too tempting.

Sometimes a holding pattern was just too much to handle.

He moved her hair so he could see her neck again, liking how her legs brushed together nervously and tantalizingly, strewn over his lap.

"If I don't ask the question, then you can't say 'no'," he said diplomatically. But her neck was getting more and more inviting. And so was the opening of her dress that he knew she wore just to tease him.

"Who knew you were so fragile," she said, knowing what got to him. His eyes grew dark but she could feel how his need for her was growing more insistent and the idea of marriage, as exciting as it was for her, was fading in the back of her mind more and more. And the couch they were on was seeming more and more friendly.

"I think I do need to test the merchandise," he said decisively, his hand finding its way to the lace of her thigh highs. He knew that was also a barrier for his benefit because it was a little warm out for that sort of thing.

She really knew how to play him. She could wrangle a proposal out of him even if he didn't want to give it.

"Wouldn't want to disappoint you on the wedding night."

"Oh, so we are getting married," she said with that playful tone of hers.

"You never said 'no'," he reminded her.

"You never gave me the chance."

"And I'm not going to," he said. "I am fairly certain I can recall some of those ways to distract you."

"Trying to use sex to distract me," she reprimanded gently.

"Who's trying?" he asked. "I'm past succeeding."

Though they were the only ones in the suite, their voices had reached low decibels and she was suddenly relieved that she had found time to turn off the television and that the lights were already off. Yet she could see him with such perfect clarity she knew she would see him for the rest of her life.

"I can't just be your friend," she told him. "it was agonizing just waiting around for you to..."

She didn't finish as he pressed his mouth urgently to hers and she wondered how her back met the couch so fast. Her skirt was falling away and she was sure she had put on stockings that morning, but they seemed to be missing.

She liked it. How words didn't have to matter. How their communication seemed to be telepathy. Always.

"I knew you could never refuse me."

But he sounded more relieved than anything and suddenly she was remembering his nervous breaths as he pulled out a box in the middle of a hospital.

And she loved him.

"I didn't agree to anything yet."

"Yes you did."

Her mouth was still hot from his and she just wanted them to be okay again.

"Yes," she said, feeling slightly light headed. "I suppose I did."

"You said yes the minute you walked in here tonight. You said yes the first time you ever stepped into my limo."

Yes, indeed.

And her thighs were cradling his hips and she could finally taste him again. So much that she had almost forgotten that their consummation was occurring on a couch.

Almost.

Even though she was in love with him, she still had some sense of propriety that she was bred with.

Mother would be pleased.

"Chuck," she said breathily and he kissed her harder.

He always liked it when she said his name like that.

"Your bedroom..."

"We have the rest of our lives for propriety," he said.

Their communication was telepathy.

"It's been too long and we're doing this now."

She always liked it that he didn't treat her like some fragile doll.

It was a relief to be rid of the holding pattern.