Regarding Chuck crossly, Blair folded her arms over her chest. Really, he was always so aggravating with his smirks and unending innuendos. Where were those sacrosanct laws of friendship when he had molested her in that kitchen? Not that she was still thinking about that or anything, because she wasn't. At all. And really, she dimly remembered resolving to forgive and forget--this time at least--Chuck's sudden breach in gentlemanly conduct considering the events that had preceded their kiss. Blair Waldorf bestowed her forgiveness sparingly, but stabbing a monster to death inspired even her rusty, rarely used sense of mercy.
"Fine," she conceded stiffly, as if she were doing him the favor. "I just hope you have something suitable for me to change into. I'm not flouncing around this hotel in a French maid's costume or something."
She still seemed a bit unsteady on her feet, her eyes narrowing in concentration as she righted herself with one hand flat on the bar. Little food and Serena's generous pours were clearly a dangerous combination. Perhaps a shower would be good, not only to remove all the disgusting traces of the day before but also to set her to rights again.