A/N: So, this is a new story which I will admit is based loosely on "Sweet Home Alabama". The base concept is from that movie, however, the rest (and twists) is my own. I hope you like it :-)

The Proposal

Eleanor Waldorf died with as much pomp and circumstance as she had lived with. Coming home from one of the Van der Woodsen's annual charity galas, her black towncar met its demise when a speeding Porsche driven by two teenagers riddled on cocaine rammed its bright yellow hood into the towncar's side at Madison and 42nd street. Eleanor Waldorf met her demise as well.

Her daughter was the picture of contained grief at the funeral. Dressed demurely in a black dress that reached just below her knees, her impassive features made her look as steely and composed as her stepfather was inconsolable. She stood at the graveside with her stepfather, a rigid arm slung around his shoulder. Everyone had thought to themselves what a strong, levelheaded twenty year old she was. They thought it as she walked from her mother's grave, her head obstinately raised. They thought it as she conducted polite conversation at the reception afterwards. Blair Waldorf was a proper young woman.

And then she took off for Spain without a word's notice.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

It was the anniversary of that awful day. Five years since she lost her mother. Five years since she left everything and forged a new life for herself. Blair sat in her apartment and gazed out the window, thinking of that day. It had been so hard not to cry, not to lash out at everyone around her. They were all responsible in their own way. The Van der Woodsen's for having those ridiculous galas that no one actually enjoyed attending. Nate for having once been those boys who took her mother from her. Chuck for having to have been such a disaster at his father's funeral that she vowed at her own parent's funeral to not shed a tear. She knew no one was actually to blame, no one but those boys in the car, but at the time she felt like lashing out at anyone and everyone.

She shook her head irritably and took a sip of coffee. Beneath her window the streets of Madrid were alive. People bustled around as they went to cafes and stopped at shoppes. It reminded her of New York.

They had been shocked when she left. It was expected though, she supposed. She hadn't told anyone when she packed up her Louis Vuitton luggage and took the private jet to Spain. Serena had called her in hysterics asking why she had suddenly up and left and whether or not she was having a breakdown. Blair told her that she was fine. She just needed a couple weeks to herself. A couple weeks turned into five years and with minimal visits from her East Side counterparts she had truly forged herself a new life.

The door opened behind her and she turned to greet her new arrival. George walked over to her and she tilted her head back for a kiss.

"Hello," he said, touching his lips to hers quickly. "I got us some breakfast."

"Wonderful," she said.

She watched him set their breakfast on the table and smiled to herself. He really was something to admire. Tall with long and tanned limbs, she had thought he was exotic the moment she first saw him and decided that she must have him. They had met at the market and had both reached for the same carton of blueberries. It was a terribly contrite way to meet but Blair could not help but think that it was like something out of one of her movies. He said she could take the blueberries if she would let him take her to lunch. Over several tapas, they shared their respective stories. Blair simply told him that she was from New York. George revealed he was a shipping tycoon heir. They held hands on the walk back to her apartment and while all she gave him was a goodbye kiss, her stomach stirred in a manner that was all too familiar and when she waved goodbye she knew she would be seeing him again.

"What did you get?" Blair asked, moving behind him and snaking her arms around his waist.

"Some smoked salmon and fresh fruit," he told her. "I could make eggs, as well, if you have some in the fridge."

"No, it sounds perfect," she said, dropping a kiss on his shoulder. She moved around him to the table and saw a plain white box tied with twine at her place setting.

"What's this?" She asked, picking up the box.

"Oh, I got you a pastry, too," George said from the sink as he washed his hands. "They had some nice croissants so I figured I'd get you one."

She beamed back at him and said, "You are too sweet."

She untied the twine and opened up the box. Her hand flew to her chest when she saw that the box did not actually contain a croissant but one ring with the clearest diamond she had ever seen. She picked it up from the box and felt a sob rise in her throat when she found George beside her on one knee.

"Blair Waldorf, you are the most amazing woman I have ever met."

"George," she mumbled as tears welled in her eyes.

"I love you, in fact, I think I loved you the moment we both reached for those same damn blueberries. I love you, Blair, and I want you to be my wife."

"Yes," she answered immediately. "Yes."

"Hold on, I haven't even asked you."

She laughed among her tears and said, "Sorry, go on."

He took a deep breath and then asked, "Blair, will you marry me?"

She was in his arms in an instant, kissing him furiously as he pushed the ring onto her finger. Their foreheads resting together Blair said, "I want to get married as soon as possible. I don't care about a big wedding. Just you and me."

"We can get our marriage licenses today."

She nodded excitedly. "Yes!"

"And then the courthouse afterwards?"

The Blair of the Upper East side would never have considered an elopement but the Blair sitting in an apartment in Madrid thought it was the most wonderful idea and kissed her fiancée fully before saying, "I cannot wait to be your wife."

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

They sat in the clerk's office, anxiously awaiting the approval of their marriage license. They had scrambled before to gather all the other documents needed. George had most of it already while Blair had a momentary panic attack while she was searching for her birth certificate. She eventually found it and they went to the clerk office, handed in the documents, and waited for the green light to get married.

"Can you believe by this time tomorrow we will be married?" George asked, squeezing her hand.

"Well, the courthouse is not open past five," she said. "So, if these people don't get their act together we might be just as we are now, unmarried."

"You shouldn't worry so much," he said, leaning toward her to press a kiss into her temple. "We will be married soon, regardless."

The American consul walked in and offered both of them greetings. Blair's stomach fluttered as she realized she was one step closer to her marriage. He sat down opposite the couple and shuffled through the papers in his hands before extricating one and putting it on top.

"Now, all of your paperwork checked out," he began. "Except for one."

They looked at him in confusion.

"It seems, Ms. Waldorf, that you are already married."

"What?" She snapped, her color rising. "That's ridiculous."

"According to this paper, you are married."

"Well, that is impossible. I.."

She trailed off as a memory tugged at the corner of her mind. She thought of Fiji and the sunset. Someone else holding her hands as they impulsively acted after one too many rounds with Captain Morgan. She had fixed that, though.

"Who is it?" George asked.

The man looked down at the paper and said, "It is a Mr. Charles Bass."

They had fixed it. Unless-

"He wouldn't," she breathed out.

Oh yes, a voice in her head sing-songed, he would.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

"I could kill him," Blair huffed, walking from the clerk's office with George. "Honestly, if he were in front of me right now I would strangle him with his stupid bow tie."

"So, Charles-"

"Chuck," she corrected with such vehemence in her voice that it made him wince.

"Okay, Chuck didn't complete his end of the annulment?"

"He must not have." Blair was so angry that she was shaking. "It happened when I was twenty. We went to Fiji and things got out of hand. When we returned, though, I called my lawyers and was told that everything was taken care of. Apparently, that was untrue."

"Well, you just call him and tell him that you want a divorce," George answered logically. Blair shook her head, seeing the flaw in this plan immediately. Logic was not something that Chuck understood.

"It won't be that easy. Chuck is difficult."

"Blair, you haven't seen him in five years," he stressed. "I'm sure he's moved on."

Blair didn't answer. Clearly, George had never met Chuck Bass. That man was capable of drawing things much past their expiration date. And George's proposal of their just calling him and asking for him to tie up his end of the annulment was the worst plan she had ever heard. A phone call wouldn't do.

"There's only one way to do this," she said finally. "I have to go back."

"Blair-"

"I have to do this in person. It's the only way."

He was silent for a moment but then nodded. "Alright, I'll come with you."
"No," she answered immediately. "You need to stay here."

She knew what would happen if he came with her. Chuck would see him and this would all become a game to him. It would be like Nate all over again. He would have his competitor and he would fight until the bloody, painful end. She wouldn't let him do that George. She would go on her own and end this once and for all.

"I think you're being a little overdramatic with this all," George said gently, putting his arm around her shoulders. "All we need is his signature and then this will all be behind us. We'll be married. That's all that matters."

Was she being overdramatic? It had been five years since she had last seen Chuck. He had never opted to visit when Serena and Nate would make a trip up to see her. Perhaps he had grown up a bit as she had.

A nagging voice inside her told her that was wishful thinking.

"Just let me do this alone," she said carefully. "And then I will come back and we can start our life together."

George sighed. "Fine, but I still think you're overreacting."

"Well, let's hope you're right. If you are this will all be over very soon."

They walked back to her apartment and her head swam with plans for plane tickets and phone calls. Despite the unsavory base of her travel, she felt something stir in the pit of her stomach.

She was going back.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this :-) Next chapter is chock full of CHAIR scenes (it is written already) so if you like this leave some feedback and the next installment will be posted!