Was a time when I wasn't sure
But you set my mind at ease
There is no doubt
You're in my heart now
Said, woman, take it slow
It'll work itself out fine
All we need is just a little patience
Said, sugar, make it slow
And we come together fine
All we need is just a little patience

"Patience"

Guns N' Roses

Patience had never been Blair's strong suit.

Her parents always had to hide Christmas presents from their daughter's prying eyes and keen sense of deduction. They had been foolish enough to hide the gifts in the same place every year since she was five. Putting her gifts inside their luggage in the back of the closet was not at all original.

Even early admission to college was not fast enough for Blair Cornelia Waldorf. When she had applied to Yale, she had tried to convince them to create a "pre-early admission, admission" just for the upper echelon of the applicants, she had assured, namely her. This attempt had been to no avail.

She had vowed to herself that she would be patient with Chuck and let him propose in his own time. Each day she would wake with the promise "Perhaps today." Yet each night she would lie back in bed, disappointed and slightly grumpier than the night before.

Not only was it torture for her, it was torture for everyone that came in contact with the brunette.

Entering the Waldorf penthouse in recent days could only be compared to running onto a minefield. There was no telling what would set Blair off.

Dorota had started to notice the change in temperament about a month ago.

She had been sure that Blair would be pleased with the large delivery of peonies from her favorite florist. Upon Dorota's announcement as she entered Blair's room, Blair had quickly pasted a tight-lipped smile on her lips and told Dorota to dispose of them immediately and returned to her well-worn copy of "Anna Karenina."

"But Miss Blair, they your favorites, from Mister Chuck," replied the faithful housekeeper.

"I said, dispose of them," Blair replied in a clipped tone, going back to her book without glancing up.

Confused, Dorota had remained rooted to the floor of Blair's room, clutching the vase in her hands.

Moments later, Blair had looked up to see the Polish woman still standing in the room, the offending object still in her hands.

"Fine," Blair huffed.

Throwing down her book, Blair stalked over to where the woman stood. She grabbed the vase out of her hands and began to march across the room.

Thinking that Blair had changed her mind, a small smile began to stretch across her cheeks.

However, the smile quickly vanished as she saw Blair open the window and without preamble, drop the vase to the sidewalk below.

After that, things had quickly gone downhill. Her favorite Pierre Herme macarons had been thrown against the wall, frightening the young delivery boy. The newspaper with the headline of Prince Harry's escapades had been ripped to shreds upon arrival. She had even thrown a pair of Louboutin's at the television when the History Channel had played a documentary on Winston Churchill.

Though Dorota had witnessed each of these explosions, she was not to be the target of today's blow-up.

Knowing that her friend had been a little on edge, Serena thought that it would be nice to watch a movie together. She had been careful about her snack selection since Dorota had seen the Gossip Girl blast about the macarons. The popcorn from Garrett's seemed a good choice as Blair was popping pieces into her mouth as she settled back on the bed, an almost genuine smile on her face.

"So what's on the docket for today," Blair questioned with an arched eyebrow crunching on a piece of caramel crisp popcorn.

Under normal circumstances, Serena wouldn't have even thought twice about what movie would put Blair in a better mood. But since she, like Dorota, had no idea what would set her off, she had ventured away from the tried and true Audrey classics.

"The Proposal," Serena said with a giddy smile, certain her friend couldn't find anything wrong with her choice.

But as soon as the words had slipped from her mouth, the almost smile on Blair's features quickly flashed to a glare and her brown eyes turned an alarming shade of black.

"We are not watching that," Blair said, a slight trace of venom in her tone as her hands clenched in fists, turning her knuckles first red then white.

"Come on, Blair," Serena pleaded, ignoring the warning signs as she gushed on. "Ryan Reynolds is in it and he is so hot!"

"I said," Blair replied through clenched teeth, "that we are NOT watching that."

"But Blair," Serena protested.

But Serena never finished the thought and Blair wouldn't have heard her if she had because she was now ripping the DVD out of the player and breaking it in half with a satisfying snap.

"Oops," Blair said dropping the shattered disc on the floor as she made her way back to the bed, setting the tin of popcorn to the side as she plopped down. Her mood may have been ruined but the popcorn was still very good.

"What the hell is wrong with you Blair," Serena said with a bewildered expression across her face as she picked up the pieces from the floor and threw them into the wastebasket.

"Nothing," Blair said, thoroughly examining her fingernails as she leaned back onto her bed.

"Nothing," Serena challenged, "Nothing? So that's why there aren't any deliverymen that are willing to come to your penthouse for fear of decapitation? "

Blair didn't even flinch, instead reaching for her nail file from her bedside table and resuming her examination of her nails.

"Is that why the doorman wished me luck when I came in today?"

The brunette seemed not to hear, as she filed the edge of her ring finger.

"Is that why you've ripped off the head of everyone that has come in contact with you in the last month?"

At this Blair glanced up, "Not true."

Serena tried to hold her glance but her eyes had gone back to nails almost immediately.

"Ok, you've ripped off the head of everyone that has come in contact with you in the last month," Serena amended, "that was not named Chuck. Better?"

"I wouldn't say better," Blair murmured, "But at least it's truer."

"Blair," Serena sighed, sitting down on the bed beside her best friend. "We're all worried about you. Please tell me what's wrong."

"I told you there is nothing wrong."

"Well, I don't believe that."

"That's your problem," said Blair with a shrug as she got up from the bed to check her reflection in the mirror.

Not to be discouraged, Serena followed her friend to the mirror and stood behind her, watching as her friend fussed with the flaws that only she could see.

"Is it school?" she pressed.

Blair ignored her and instead began meticulously applying another coat of mascara to her lashes.

"Is it your mom?"

Her lips twisted as she watched her friend pick up a pencil and carefully line her lips.

"Is it me?"

Still, no response came as Blair began moving lipstick over her mouth.

Serena took a deep breath as she readied herself to ask the next question.

"Are you having problems with Chuck?" her words barely a whisper.

At this, the brunette dropped the tube onto the dresser with a clatter, a strange look crossing her face.

It was a look that Serena knew well because it was one that she had seen on that face in their decades-long friendship. It was a mixture of horror: why would anyone think that she and Chuck were having problems; and insecurity, because what if they were having problems and she couldn't see it.

"Blair," Serena pressed as she watched the look quickly disappear from her friend's features being carefully replaced by the practiced look of stony indifference.

Blair let out a deep breath before turning to face her friend.

"Chuck and I aren't having problems," she said with a firmness that Serena wasn't sure Blair herself possessed.

Blair met Serena's eyes, imploring her to believe the words.

Serena looked away with a frustrated sigh, "Then what is it, Blair? Because happy and in love Blair doesn't act like this."

This was the problem with having friends that you had known since infancy: they were very adept at putting their heads back on after you had ripped them off. And when they had metaphorically put their heads back on, they would return to jabbing at the spot that had made you rip it off in the first place.

With a sigh, Blair decided that maybe it was time for her to share what had been bothering her, especially since it didn't seem like Serena was going to be leaving any time soon.

"It's not that Chuck and I are having problems," Blair exhaled. "So much as I am having problems."

Serena's eyes widened in horror, "You're not going to break up with him again, are you, Blair? Because I'm not sure I could forgive-"

"No," Blair said with such outrage that Serena instantly believed her.

"Then what do you mean?" Serena pried.

"He hasn't asked me," Blair said after a long pause.

"Asked you what?" Serena asked.

Of course she would choose this moment to not be insightful Serena, Blair thought with a huff.

"To," Blair said, her cheeks reddening, "You know…to be his…"

"Be his what," Serena repeated, dumbfounded.

"His wife, for God's sake," Blair shouted, exasperated and embarrassed in equal measure. "He hasn't asked me to be his wife."

"Oh," Serena exclaimed as her friend's words sunk in. "Impatient Blair is bitchy Blair."

Blair merely nodded.

"We've been back together for three months and he hasn't even mentioned getting married."

"Well, three months is awfully early to think about engagements," Serena said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Not when you're Chuck and Blair," Blair bit back, unamused by her friend's tasteless joke.

"Sorry, not the time for jokes."

"Glad you're beginning to see the seriousness of the situation," Blair said with a satisfied sigh as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well," Serena began, "I don't think it's that serious."

And suddenly, all of Blair's insecurities came spilling out.

"What if he doesn't want to marry me anymore? What if I ruined it all? He's never going to propose. He doesn't want to marry me. He just wants to be my boyfriend. Forever. We're just going to be one of those couples that date forever until we finally live together and with our children. Our children won't have any friends because no one will be allowed to play at the Bass/Waldorf home because of the untraditional choices. They'll be miserable and hate us. It'll be like Bart and Eleanor times a thousand."

Blair's tirade was only stopped by the slap on her cheek, delivered by the person formally known as her best friend.

"It was the only way to get you to shut up," Serena said with a shrug, ignoring Blair's spiteful gaze as she gently rubbed the red spot on her cheek.

"But-" Blair tried to begin again.

"But, you're an idiot," Serena finished, holding up her hand to silence the new protest that Blair began.

"Of course he wants to marry you. You didn't ruin everything. He will propose. And you'll never end up like Bart and Eleanor. No matter what," she finished with a tone of authority.

"How do you know," Blair said a desperate tone slipping into her soft voice.

"Because you're Chuck and Blair. Blair and Chuck," Serena said with a smile.

"But how do you know I didn't ruin everything?" Blair questioned, hoping to find the assurance she saw in Serena's eyes.

"Because he wouldn't be Chuck Bass without you."

AN: So sorry for the extremely overdue update. I could try to give some sort of reason, but there isn't one. There are probably 2-3 chapters left after this one. Let me know what you thought or if you're still reading. I don't own Guns N'Roses or Gossip Girl. *AND the lyrics aren't my favorite on earth but I wanted to get this out today and we are getting ready to go to a movie. If you think of something better, let me know!