A/N- I'm back! Just had a sudden bout of inspiration, and truck-load of oneshots (both GG and OTH) are in the works. I also haven't forgotten 'The Saddest Song' and 'These Arms' but the chapter for TSS that I've written are stuck on my memory stick in my office and I can't get them until saturday:( Good news is, I can post the next chapter on Sunday :)

As for 'These Arms' I've got chapters written for that too, but they're on my main computer which is down at the moment due to a bedroom refurb. I'm working from a laptop which loses battery power like cas use petrol. TOO FAST!! Sounds like a lot of excuses I know lol, but they are done, promise :)

This oneshot doesn't exactly have a proper storyline to it, it's just drabblely angst I suppose, but everyone loves a bit of that right?

xxx

On The Edge

Blair Cornelia Waldorf is a pretender. A fake. A liar, not only to the public, but to herself as well.

And she hates herself for it.

Her ten-hour flight to Paris had been the longest ten hours of her life. She'd known exactly what Chuck had been doing (still knows too, that would never leave her) and yet she'd text him when she'd arrived, just to let him know that she was safe.

And the worst part was when she text him again a further ten hours later, to make him aware that she was back in New York, safe and sound yet completely and utterly heartbroken (she'd left that last part out though).

He'd only text her back 'I'll make it up to you. Promise. C xoxo'

He'd never make it up to her, Blair knew that, but he'd still try. She'd only shrugged it off, attempted to push it to the back of her mind as she'd fumbled around for that bottle she'd known was in her bag somewhere.

X

She doesn't know who the 'other woman' is, yet it doesn't matter. It could have been Serena or Jenny, some slutty member of his father's staff or some complete nobody, and it wouldn't make the slightest ounce of difference.

The fact that he could do to her what Nate had done, and what she'd always believed he'd never do, was enough. Blair fails to acknowledge any more details than she has to.

She knows that Chuck knows that she knows. She's tried to hide it too many times under failed smiles and inexperienced hands ripping at clothes, but he sees through the act (always has, definitely always will) and even though she tells herself that he has no idea how the mashed potatoes come up straight after dinner, Blair knows that he'll be stood outside the door every time.

She just wishes the slightly satisfied smirk wouldn't cross her lips.

News of Chuck's infidelity only a week into their doomed relationship has failed to make Gossip Girl, and so Blair refuses to make anything more of it.

If they broke up, if she caused a scene, she would be the wronged woman, the "poor thing" that had been taken advantage of, the repellent so-to-speak. She's not going to let the rest of the world know that even Chuck Bass found someone better than her.

Her social status is finally on the up after all.

X

Chuck doesn't mention anything about those 20 or so hours spent apart. Blair thinks it's deliberate but tries not to deliberate about it anyway.

She's now the owner of countless bracelets, of pretty earrings and stain scarves, of the best handbags and chenille gloves. Each time he presents them to her, (every one in a pretty wrapped gift box) he says it's "just because."

Blair wants to add on "you screwed someone else" but never does, just smiles politely and thanks him, first with words, second with a kiss. It's a ritual they've both perfected, and Blair's beginning to think that this whole thing is turning into a spin-off of her and Nate.

It makes it worse, she concludes (even though she doesn't want to) that Chuck is sorry, and that he still loves her. It makes it worse, that she always knew he wouldn't change, that he wouldn't be able to stay faithful because that's just the way Chuck Bass is.

Blair Waldorf thinks she loves him even more for it.

And she wonders, deep down, whether she really would want him to change, whether she would want him to be caring and considerate and faithful. Because then he would be a different Chuck, and it wouldn't be the Chuck she fell for.

They're only seventeen and it's too complicated for high school.

X

Chuck hasn't ever told her that he loves her.

She knows he does though, because he'd told Nate, Nate had told her and she'd told Serena.

Now it's too late to take it back, it's too late for people not to know the extent of her feelings and so she's forced at least to acknowledge that fact, be it with a nod, a smile, a kiss when he stutters what the two of them wont ever say to each other.

Blair won't utter "love". She's worried it's more like infatuation and love doesn't seem a strong enough word to describe her feelings for him.

There's a little hate thrown in there too.

X

Nate catches her off guard one day during lunch when she's toying with her pen and a piece of paper as she forgets to finish writing her 'to do' list, letting her hand glide across the page in an unsatisfactory ill-controlled manner.

He asks her if she wants to grab dinner tonight. He's got something to ask her and the classroom really isn't the place to do so.

Blair's more intrigued than worried, more curious than excited and when her stomach starts churning (in a good way, she fears) she attempts (badly) to ignore it.

She feels Chuck glare at the two of them out of the corner of her eye and it makes her feel a little funny. Powerful maybe, and so she keeps that absorbed smile across her face, pretends she hasn't seen Chuck and tells her in the demanding manor that she normally reserves for him and only him, to pick her up at seven.

She doesn't use the word date because it's not, and she doesn't raise the matter further. Simply crosses her legs under her body as Chuck turns his back, and then there's the elated feeling that she might have finally gotten to him.

Serena frowns, and Blair ignores her.

"Dinner with Nate?"

Blair simply shrugs. "He's a friend."

"But you were his girlfriend for God knows how many years, and your Chuck's girlfriend now." Serena presses.

"So? He in was in love with you all the time you were with Dan, and you still hung out."

That's the matter closed, and the pair brush past it, Serena eats her yoghurt and Blair finishes her list.

But she can't help but glance Chuck's way, revelling in the fact that he'll have to know she's with Nate tonight.

And then she wonders whether she's pushing herself a little too close to the edge.

X

"Dinner with Nate." Chuck says in a way Blair can't quite figure out what he means. "Where are you going?"

"Antonio's." Blair replies. She's not sure if that's where Nate has chosen, but Chuck knows she's wanted to eat there ever since it opened a couple weeks ago. Saying it just takes her little game up a notch.

"You look stunning." Chuck continues. Blair only raises an eyebrow knowingly.

"When do I not?"

She lets him kiss her across her neck, behind her ears and down to her collarbone. She lets his hands wander, lets a small moan escape from her painted lips as he smoothes her hair away.

And then as her cell rings in the special tone reserved for Nate and only Nate, she stops him, says she hates to keep people waiting "you know that" and calls back that she'll see him later as she shuts the door.

Monday nights (which is what tonight is) are sleepover nights. And Blair knows it'll kill him wondering what she's doing.

He's on the edge, Blair knows that. And she intends to push him just that little closer.

X

She strips quickly upon entering his room, leaves her bag down on the floor, dress folded neatly as she climbs into bed beside him, lights off, though she knows he won't be asleep.

Her night hadn't been as intriguing as she'd first thought. There'd been small talk, uncomfortable silences and awkward smiles, and all the time, Blair had wished she'd been back in Chuck's suite in Chuck's company, thinking about how next to support herself further.

But she and Nate had agreed to be friends, to try harder to make an effort, because after all, it would be a shame to waste all those years of knowing (a little) about each other.

"Good night?" Chuck mumbles faux-sleepily as she wriggles her way closer to him, just so that she can feel his arms around her.

"Perfect." She lies. She needs to keep up appearances one way or another.

He plants a soft kiss on her forehead, and Blair can't help but wonder if he kissed her in the same way. She guesses not, because even when he was breaking her heart, he'd have known to reserve something special.

Blair Waldorf needs Chuck Bass more than she could have realised.

And even though she doesn't want to need him, she doesn't want to be crawling in his bed after he's shared it with someone else, she does, because Blair needs comfort, security. She needs to feel safe, and Chuck is almost definitely her key to that.

Chuck has more power over the rest of the Upper East Side than Blair could ever imagine.

And as she's pressed into his warm body, his lips on her hair and his legs wrapped around hers, Blair feels not just like she's on the edge, but like she's dangling, waiting for the smallest breeze to knock her off.

Blair knows better than anyone that just because she sleeps next to him, it doesn't mean she's safe.