A/N: These are probably going to be a common fixture. I get inspired by all kinds of things. But this is vintage Chuck and Blair, even in an alternate universe.

Summary: "He and I were made for each other, you dumb bitch."

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Though an alternate universe, all characters are inspired form the show and books. I love them.

"I knew it."


"I always knew it."


"Get out."


He found her on the floor.

It hadn't been the first time he got one of her cryptic texts and he was cynical enough to know that it wouldn't be the last.

"Get out."

"That's what you said to Nate, right?"

Her eyes were cold as she stared up at him from on her back.

He liked the black negligee she was wearing.

"Are you deaf?"

"Come on, Waldorf," Chuck rolled his eyes and lay down next to her. "This resistant act is getting really boring."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"This isn't the first time you've texted me," Chuck said. "And this isn't the last time you'll try and pretend you didn't."

"I don't want to forgive him," she said quietly. "But I will."

"Forgive him for what?"

Blair turned towards him. Her hair shone against the white tile.

"You won't forgive him," Chuck said after a moment. "Not this time."

"You know you're the only one who would do that."

"Do what?"

He always acted like that. He never let on what he knew until his calculations were in place.

"Most people would say 'you'll get through this, you belong together', but-"

"But you don't," Chuck snorted.

"—But you act like you don't know everything. When you do."


"You didn't answer me."

"Was there a question?"

"Bass." He was sure she almost smiled. "You know for what."

"I don't know anything."

"You know everything," Blair said. "Serena."

This was about around the time he would say something callous and hurtful and smirk with a sexual innuendo attached.

He didn't do that.

She looked down in surprise. He hand eased over her abdomen, his hand moving smoothly over the satin of her front.

She stared back at him.

"I really am sorry."

"Funny way of showing it."

"The only way I know how."

It should be sleazy and disgusting. But it wasn't.

Somehow, it was comforting.

"You're a good friend."

"You're the only woman who can say that to me," Chuck said.

"I'm the only one who knows you."

"Don't say that."


"Because I'm not supposed to be here," Chuck said. "And you don't want me to say the same thing to you."

"A lot of people know me."

"Not like I do."

"I know."

His hand still hadn't moved.


She slapped him hard.

"Nate is my boyfriend."


"And you think you can do whatever you want."

"Just whatever you want."

"You're arrogant."

"You're hot."

"Don't you dare kiss me again."

"Not until you beg me for it."

She watched, mouth agape as he walked back to the party.

That Brooklyn bitch was salivating all over him.

He better not take her up to the roof.


"Where'd you get that?"

Blair packed a hell of a punch.

"By making out with your girlfriend."

Nate was quiet. "Oh."

"I expected more of an explosion."

"We're not dating anymore."


"She hit you."


"That sounds like her."

"It does."


"Did you fuck her?"

He turned around and had that infuriating smirk. "What do you care?"

"You were up on that roof for an awfully long time."

"You're starting to sound concerned," Chuck said. "Something I should know?"

"She better not show her face again."

"Now you sound threatened," Chuck said. "I doubt my father would allow a street urchin into the brunch for his foundation."

"You're disgusting."

"That doesn't sound like begging."

"You'll be scrounging for scraps for the indefinite future."

"Punishing me because dear Nathaniel was apathetic to our situation."

"We don't have a situation. And slip into the conversation not so subtly that your room is available again and you'll regret it."

"And you'd think that this was your day."

"It always is."


"I think it's pretty foolish for you to deny the fact that I've had a respectful hard-on for you for awhile now."

"Respectful?" she asked.

"Well you were dating my best friend."

"He didn't seem to have the same concern when he slept with my best friend."

"I guess it just goes to show who's the better man."

"There's no such thing as a respectful hard-on."

"I love it when you talk dirty, Blair."

"I was quoting."

"If it makes you feel better it was also a profession hard-on," Chuck said. "I do admire your work."

"I can't say the same for you."

"I assume you're referring to my sexual exploits. But my other endeavors must be more impressive."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because we're kind of perfect together," Chuck said.


"There you go with that boring denial again," he said. "But if it's true, then don't bother tasking me to stalk Serena next time."

Blair opened her mouth to protest and realized to late the trap that he had caught her in.


He was nauseating.


"I'm not begging."


"Not on your life."

"That's why you're in my dreams."

She slapped him hard again.

This time they both liked it.


He held her hair back. It was glossy in his hands but for the first time, he was holding her because he was afraid.

"I had held on to the optimistic hope that you had stopped doing this to yourself."

"Optimistic?" She pushed her hair back as she spit into the sink. He watched as a casual observer.

"A foolish plight, I know," he answered.

"Then you know it isn't that easy."

He still smoothed her hair back.

"You texted me," he said.

"A foolish plight."

"You're angry with me." There was regret in his voice and she could tell that he really was sorry.

"Don't touch me."

He took a step back, but only because she asked. She still couldn't reconcile that in her mind.

"You have a hard-on for everyone, Chuck Bass," Blair said. "Don't pretend that I'm special."

"No, you would hate that." He couldn't help the edge to his voice, especially when he didn't know what he had done wrong.

"You're the only friend that I have and I hate you for it," Blair spat.

"You only text me when you're desperate," Chuck said. "Are you are desperate for me."

"You can count on the fact that I will never beg for you."

"If you do," He growled, "it'll only be for me and you know it."

He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.


"Hi, Jenny. What do you want?"


"Did you fuck her?"

"What do you care?"


"I love your flowers."

"They're hydrangeas."


"Don't pretend I'm special."


Little J was pretty, doe-eyed and worst of all, blonde.

Blair had traded in one adversary for another. She knew that Jenny would never be the competition that Serena van der Woodsen was, but it vexed her all the same.

"I realized I still have your calligraphy pens from the party invitations and thought you might need them for something."

"That is the lamest excuse I've ever heard."

Blair snatched the pens away. She felt the girl's eyes lingering on her immodesty and for the first time, she wanted to cover herself. She didn't want this interloper to see her vulnerability.

And with a sickening realization, she knew that's exactly what it was. This child made her feel vulnerable.

She hated that she knew why.

"You want to know what Chuck Bass is saying about you."

She had to say his full name like that.

He wasn't her friend. He couldn't be her friend with this succubus before her. She couldn't reveal anything.

"Is he?" Jenny asked. "Saying things?"

"Is there anything he should be saying?"

"You don't know?" Jenny asked. "About what happened?"

"I guess I won't know what I know until you tell me."

Blair cringed inwardly at her awkward blunder. But she wouldn't let this scrap know that.

On the outside she smiled.

"Chuck didn't tell you?" Blair hated those blue eyes and smug look. It always seemed to be the blondes.

"Then I guess there's your answer," Blair smirked. "He isn't saying anything."

"Or anything to you."

Blair felt her face draw stone cold.

This bitch had actually dared to speak to her that way. Blair was either losing her edge or this was something altogether.

She wasn't losing her edge.

And she had been afraid everyone was seeing something that she was in denial of.

Of course she was in denial.

"Why?" Blair asked, drawing her composure. "Was there something he should be ashamed about?"

The girl smiled. "I don't think so."

Blair felt her teeth clench.

But on the outside, she smiled as pleasantly as always.


Blair pushed the curtain aside slowly.

Chuck always had the penchant for a den of inequity.

Burlesque dancers ground and danced across the floor, covered in boas and not much else. She knew enough to know the upper floors had back rooms that were probably illegal.

Blair walked through the club, her heels clicking across the floor, being lost in the sound of the crowd.

Nate's blue eyes crossed her body as she crossed the room. But he was passive on one of the couches, not even noticing one of the dance specialists trying to mount him.

But she felt his eyes. Dark and searching.

She liked that he was confused. She liked that he couldn't predict her.

He stood up slowly, shrugging off admirers and the other dregs clinging to him.

"You know I don't beg."

"You're still here," he noted. His eyes flicked around as though he assumed it was some practical joke.

"Your eyes don't deceive you."

Their breaths mingled. She could have stolen his breath away if she wanted.

"What is it?" she urged.

"You know what I want."

"What about what I want?"

Her nails dug into the front of his lapel. She liked his bow tie.

"You know I'm your willing slave."

She didn't slap him this time.

Their lips crushed violently and very publicly together. She didn't care about any of the blue eyes that were on them.

He slammed her back into the wall, his mouth assaulting her neck as she gathered both of her hands at his hair at the back of his head. His hand slapped against the wall over her shoulder for leverage.

It was only after the initial adrenaline rush did he get his head back.

"I didn't want it to be this way."


Her nails raked and he groaned.

Fairytales weren't nearly this passionate.

They lusted for this kind of annihilation.


"I told you it'd be perfect."

He bled and she hurt but somehow, he still couldn't help but be smug.

She couldn't help but understand it.

"Is that what you call it?"

"What do you call it?"

She would kill him if he had ever brought any other bitches in the back of this limo.

"A perfect kind of annihilation." He smiled at that. He liked that. She had never seen his hair in such disarray or her negligee in such tatters. But maybe there was something so awfully perfect about it. She never thought she would be flushed. "I don't know. It's the only time I've ever done it."

He smirked at that. She should be disgusted by how proud he was for deflowering her.

But somehow, he was the farthest from disgusting her. Somehow, she wanted to be on top of him again.

"For you?" Blair asked. "It was perfect?"

He just winked and he really did hate him.

Her hand was in his hair again, his hands on her hips.

She had never foreseen herself being such a nymphomaniac.

Her hips moved faster and his head rolled back on the seat. His breath came rushing out of his lungs and she knew she had marked him.

She knew that he belonged to her and no one else. He was hers in a way that no one else could be. And no one else could own him. He let out a final moan and collapsed backwards.

She didn't move. She just placed her hands on either side of his head, leaning slightly forward. He gazed up at her and if she didn't know any better, she could have sworn that was longing in his eyes.

He swept her dark and wavy hair over her shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

"I told you that it would be perfect," he said gently.

"Is that what you call it?"

"With you."

"With me."

"I always knew it would be."

"What are you doing?" she asked, softer.

"Did you actually think this would be it?" he asked. "One time and it was over?"

"You didn't?" Blair knew Chuck better than anyone. She knew that he got thrill from the chase and she was just the forbidden fruit. But she had to have him as much as he needed her. She had to make him know that they touched each other in a way no one else could.

But she thought that would be it.

She thought they concurred on that fact.

"If you hurt yourself again, I will knock down that door."

"Things don't just solve themselves."

She still hovered over him. He was still entrenched in her and she honestly had no desire to let him go.

That was surprising.

"You're mine." He touched her hair again.

So she said the only truth she knew.

"You're mine," she corrected.

That smirk.

"I know," he said. "And you're a terror."

She pulled his hair back, their tongues doing a wicked dance.


He yanked her dress down to her waist.

"Look at me." So needy.

Her nails raked across his face. "Bastard."

He grinned up at her.

"You're beautiful."


"Is that the one that's been stalking you?"

Chuck had been spending the majority of the night getting frustrated with Blair. Part of this frustration had been due to her treatment of him lately. But the majority of this frustration had to do with the dress she was wearing and the fact that he knew without a doubt she was using it as a weapon against him and whatever it was he had done.

At the sight of the blonde, he now knew exactly the reason Blair had been punishing him. The girl had probably been watching him for the entirety of the night.

"I detest the word stalking," Chuck said to Nate, ignoring the pointed stares of the girl. "Such an ugly word."

"Is that because that's basically what your relationship with Blair is?" Nate asked. "Or do you not like the word relationship either?"

"We're together," Chuck said.


"Lover." Chuck rolled his eyes. "Labels are the death of everyone."

"Sure," Nate laughed.

"I love her," Chuck said. "That's it."

Nate looked over him, the boy's eyes wide.

"Don't look so shocked, Nathaniel."

"Have you told her?"

"She knows," Chuck said. "Just like I know her feelings for me."

"Chemistry aside," Nate has. "I think telling her would make her stop punishing you."

Chuck shrugged noncommittally. "Look where it got you."

"Are we really talking about this?" Nate asked.

"She isn't stalking me," Chuck said. "She's just… a little over-zealous."

"You were over-zealous with Blair," Nate said. "And I'm sure that is every reason why Blair is torturing you."

"It is an aphrodisiac."

"Please stop talking."

"It's just a game."

"Are you sure about that?" Nate asked. "Because I trust Blair's judgment when it comes to—"

"Social climbing backstabbers?" Chuck asked.

"So you admit she's a psycho?"

"I wouldn't say psycho. Just…"


"You learned a new word today, Archibald."

"You know what new word a learned from Blair?"

He really didn't. "What?"


Chuck knew the type. Of course he did. Social climbing described it well. Of course the queen knew the most about that. She dealt with it in her every day life.

But social climbers always climbed the easiest ones with the easiest access to the inner circle.

Jenny Humphrey climbed him like a jungle gym.

"Haven't you had enough yet?"

Getting accosted in a deserted hallway was definitely a disconcerting role reversal.

"Of what?" she asked, batting her eyelashes coyly.

It didn't really work for her.

Though they had never labeled anything, there was one thing Blair believed in. And that was loyalty. Interestingly enough, that was never a problem for Chuck.

It was was the only reason necessary.

Chuck peeled himself from the girl's grasp.

"You want to emulate Blair, you're certainly trying to ride the right train."

"I already have."

"Something I have no desire to repeat."

Chuck shrugged her hands off.

"You weren't so picky the night on the roof."

"I guess I've raised my standards since then," Chuck replied. "That can't be too hard for you to believe."

He turned on his heel.

"Never a pleasure."


"I mean does it really matter?"

"It's just Chuck Bass."

"It's not like the two of you are dating…"

"In a monogamous relationship…"

"It is Chuck Bass. How low self esteem you must have to…"

Blair's hands were on her hips as she stared shrewdly at the blonde turning the corner.

"My relationship with Chuck is none of any of your business," Blair said sharply over her shoulder to her posse.

"But are you really surprised?"

"He isn't known for monogamy."

That detestable word again.

It was an understatement that none of her friends would ever understand. But she drew the line at minions questioning her.

"Do you mind?" Blair broke away from her glowering to shoot a glare at the girls behind her. They exchanged glances but fell silent.

"Come on, B," Hazel said. "You hold out sex on a guy, he's going to move on to someone else."

"Like you would know," Blair sniped. "And you're still on probation. I'd be wary of what you say, if I were you."

Blair didn't bother to hear the rest of the commentary on her current drama. She swept through the crowd with practiced eased.

But there was someone with more practice than her.

"Blair." His hand was on her arm as he pulled her to the side.

She wrenched away from him, but still found herself steered into seclusion.

"Are you going to stop ignoring me?" Chuck's arm trapped her against the wall. All she could do was glower at him.

"Why would I do that?" Blair snapped. He felt her fingers curl into his belt suddenly. He had little time for surprise or react at all as she dragged him against her body. "Because you can't help but offer your appendage to everyone you come into contact with?"

Chuck was fully prepared to defend himself. But her fingers were itching lower and he was paralyzed. She grabbed his face with one hand and kissed him furiously.

She marked him with her lipstick. There was gin on her tongue and couldn't help but sink into her. She gripped the front of his shirt, feeling his body against hers as he fisted her hair. She let him get comfortable for a moment before pushing him away.

"I'll deal with you later."

He stood there, leaning against the wall as she stormed off, trying to catch his breath.

She always stole it from him.

It was in the nature of a social climbing, lover-stealing drudge of Brooklyn to seek out the higher status queen. She knew this was a problem. She should have dealt with the situation when she had the chance. Now she would do what she had to do.

"It wasn't just tonight, you know."

Blair had to smile at this. This little girl with her uninspired hairstyle and homemade clothing—this girl thought she could tussle with the experts.

Blair just crossed her arms over her chest, looking at Jenny expectantly.

"It was easy," she said. "One glass of champagne and he was up on the roof with me. He certainly wasn't thinking of you when he was under my dress."

Blair blinked at her, expressionless until she was done.

"Is that all?" Blair asked coolly. "What do you want me to do, cry?"

Jenny looked startled and shifted slightly.

"You certainly are getting the hang of it around here," Blair said. "But what do you think?"

Jenny still didn't answer.

"He and I were made for each other, you dumb bitch."

Jenny swallowed.

"Do you think I don't know every miniscule detail about him?" Blair asked. "Do you think I don't understand every dark thought he's ever had? You're going to have to do better than that. Especially in this world. Especially against me."

Blair wouldn't have dignified the girl with another glance, but she couldn't help herself.

"You touch him again," Blair said, "I will rip you to shreds. You're done here."

She was sure the message was clear.


It was more than disconcerting that the acknowledgement that she was hopelessly and devastatingly in love with such a creature. But he was her creature. And she wouldn't let anyone else's paws on him.

Even when he pawed at her.

"More ignoring?"

"I told you that I'd deal with you."

She had marked him as hers.


He yanked her dress down to her waist.

It was a tight black thing with sheer sleeves that reminded him of her dark nether regions.

That wasn't an accident. He knew that it wasn't.

She was sure if she were in a more dignified state of mind, she would have cared. At least propriety dictated for that certain dress she wear something underneath.

He kissed down her naked navel in the dark corner.

It should be impressive that he was able to do this while hoisting her up a discreet corner of the party.

She wasn't impressed.

Not today.

She ignored his infuriating face, her mouth agape, eyes closed, and unrestrained pleasure poured out of her as she rode out the waves.

"Look at me." So needy.

Her nails raked across his face. "Bastard."

He grinned up at her.

"You're beautiful."

"How beautiful?" she moaned.

Her hands slicked with sweat slide down her leverage on the wall.

"You're the most mesmerizing thing I've ever seen."

"Say it again."

"You're perfect."

"Now shut up."

But she wouldn't have cared if the entire party heard her scream.

She would have preferred it.

He was hers.