Title: Eight Times
Description: Eight little one-shots of Chuck and Blair interacting through the years. They will all be different in tone and subject matter; they are only related by the common theme of Chuck-Blair interaction. Enjoy!
Christmas.
Christmas in New York was magical that year. There was a jingling chill in the air that rang through the air, filling the city with an electrifying spark. The snow was drifting slowly to the ground, and the holiday lights were softly glowing in the store windows.
Blair Waldorf was not having a good day.
She was standing in an insanely long line at her favorite coffee shop, trying to warm her hands which were chilled despite her rabbit fur-lined gloves. All she wanted was a damn non-fat cappuccino with extra foam to warm her up. Her frustration with America's penchant for drinking over-complicated caramel non-fat vanilla sprinkles at 145 degrees lattes as well as the incompetence of said Americans to make them was vexing her to no end. She began to tap her foot in an uncharacteristic and unladylike fashion, her brand new Louboutin boots making soft sounds against the wet linoleum floor.
She glanced anxiously at her watch. The stores were closing soon, and she still needed to pick up Serena's Christmas present, as well as her dress for the annual Bass Holiday Gala. Suddenly, she heard the overly-obnoxious barista call out "Blair! Non-fat cappuccino to go!"
Blair glanced, bewildered, at the piercing-studded face of the barista who was staring right back at her with a raised eyebrow. She wordlessly took the cappuccino, the warmth a welcome solace to her fingers. A Christmas miracle maybe? Was God finally making his presence known in her life?
She felt a familiar presence behind her, and turned around slowly, trying to stifle the smile which began to bubble inside her mouth.
He came out with some slightly perverted quip about how hot she looked when she was frustrated.
She replied with some equally bristling comment as she contentedly sipped her cappuccino, several types of warmth washing over her.
He refused to carry her bags to the cab. She punched him in the arm; he feigned anger. She rolled her eyes and put her arms around him, the cappuccino warming his ear where the cup rested, the espresso tasting even better than he imagined inside her mouth as he kissed her shamelessly, sheltering her face from the cold wind.
He deposits her in the cab and tells her he'll see her later, and whispers in her ear something about how hot he's going to make her feel.
Blair smiles contentedly, letting the spark of the winter air crackle inside of her.