If Blair was that determined to reminisce, then Chuck wouldn't stop her. He found Blair's drunken sentimentality an interesting mix of hilarious and adorable, so he didn't change the subject. Still, her addition of "the interlopers" gave him another interesting topic to chew on and he nodded, his nose in the air like a true blueblood.
"Hopefully the interlopers will be taken care of soon," he said firmly. "I have my staff on it. They won't let any of them into the rooms. I doubt that'll be enough to deter the mooch, but Humphrey might at least come to his senses and go back to Brooklyn where he belongs."
At Blair's treehouse comment, Chuck actually gave a genuine chuckle. "A treehouse!" he snickered. "Can you imagine?" He shook his head. "Only if it comes with a fully stocked minibar."
Chuck offered his arms again when the doors opened, the elevator leading them directly into his abode. Everything was still a little messy from his rushed change (housekeeping apparently hadn't been up here since the outbreak), but that didn't matter much. He took one of the clean, fluffy white robes from the closet and supplied Blair with a few equally fluffy towels. "Your chariot awaits, milady." He indicated the bathroom.
[OOC: Oh please let this be the foreshadowing for some future point in which some combination of these four get stuck in a treehouse]