Disclaimer: I own nothing except a great love for CB and the many inhabitants of the UES
A/N: Merry Christmas, everyone!!!! How I hope everyone is enjoying this holiday season. I couldn't let it pass us by without writing a little something for my favorite pairing on the planet, Chuck/Blair of course. Their first Christmas in love and as an actual couple. This was going to be much shorter, but my fingers didn't…couldn't stop and neither would the story as it unfolded in my head. Now I bring it to you. Please be gentle, I didn't have the benefit of a beta so please forgive any grammatical missteps that may have escaped my attention. This is dedicated to all true blue CB fans and most especially my girls (You know who you are…I love you all and your friendship means the world *kisses*) Okay, I'm shutting up now..enjoy the story XOXO and Merry effing X-mas!!!
Dear Santa, All I Want………
I
Blair Cornelia Waldorf tittered nervously as she edged around the ever growing swarm. She hadn't been thinking. She'd forgotten the late hour. It wasn't really surprising, given the fact that she hadn't found herself in that particular section of the department store in years.
Almost ten years to the day when she'd realized the truth Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. A decade since she'd last insisted that Dorota bring her to visit the big guy. Chestnut curls shining, young Blair would insist on an impeccable state of dress for the critical yearly meeting. Fully aware that the eventual photo op would appear before her absent parents, Blair would don the maryjanes that her father always seemed to comment most upon and one of her mother's newest designs. The next hour before her meeting would be spent making sure that no stain, wrinkle or erstwhile strand of hair could ruin her appearance.
So it was, there were an army of photographs collecting dust somewhere in the Waldorf-Rose apartment, sporting her smiling face as she settled on Santa's knee and handed him the sacred correspondence that she'd penned so carefully in her own hand. Of course that last year…the year she'd learned the truth of Santa…there was no picture and her letter had been intercepted.
Blair scowled darkly even now just thinking on that long ago day. She'd been ecstatic to have Serena, Chuck, and Nate with her. She'd been excited at first of course, but the moment she and Dorota had picked everyone up in the limo everything had started to go wrong and quickly at that.
First, Nate had seemed more intent on the goings-on outside the cruising limo rather than her careful attempts to gauge his reaction to her appearance. At nine, she'd dressed with just as much care for the big man in red as she had for the blonde boy at her side.
Giving up after a while, she'd turned her attention to her best friend who'd been in the midst of confiding just what she was going to ask for for Christmas that year.
When it was Blair's turn, she glanced about them and carefully pulled out the letter she'd penned earlier that day. Usually, not even Dorota was granted a sneak peek before Santa could see it himself, but Serena was her bestie and the other girl shared more than one confidence with Blair even then. What could it hurt? She hadn't noticed her friend's chocolate stained fingertips until the deed was done.
Blair's screech of horror had grabbed the attention of one and all. Serena apologized and offered to help her write it all over again, while Chuck had rolled his eyes and declared the entire endeavor pointless in any case, seeing as how the red-cheeked jolly man in red was a "big, fat phony."
Blair shook her head, remembering the moment all too well. One moment Chuck had been smirking and tweaking her hair for the millionth time that day and the next her ladylike intentions diminished, she'd gone for his throat. Her goal? To strangle him with his own, stupid scarf. Dorota had intruded before she could succeed, relegating the warring pre pre-teens to either side of the limo until they pulled to a stop outside of the department store. The battle began anew once they were inside and Blair caught sight of herself before a full-length mirror, her stockings sporting a run and her hair standing on end. Her Eleanor original hadn't escaped completely unscathed.
Rushing the two girls off to the nearest restroom, Dorota had ordered the two boys not to move an inch, serving Chuck with a glare that said she meant business. Of course when Serena, Blair and the young Polish woman emerged they found only Nate waiting dutifully where they'd left him.
Dorota had let loose a flurry of words that were alien to Blair's ears back then. Long before she'd talked the maid into teaching Blair her native tongue. But someone else close to them had issued an sharp gasp, bring Dorota's head around and a hot flush to her cheeks when she realized what she'd done. She'd hurried off to search for her missing charge, leaving Blair and the other two children waiting in the line that wound its way throughout the children's department.
Boys and girls all waiting to see Santa. It wasn't until her maid had disappeared that Blair recalled the smudged letter she'd left back in the limo. That at least would have been better than having nothing. Of course she already knew exactly what she wanted , but it was the principle of the thing. It was tradition. Ruined and it was all Chuck's fault. Well, maybe not all of Chuck's fault, she'd glared at Serena standing at her side.
She never even saw the boy with dark hair and amber eyes full of remorse until he was upon them.
"You are in so much trouble. Dorota told you not to go anywhere." Young Blair had sang out gleefully, anticipating his comeuppance. Dorota wouldn't do anything of course, she'd chastise him but all would be forgotten soon enough. Wasn't that how it was whenever Blair pulled one of her stunts? No, Chuck would get his when she "accidently" let it slip in front of Bart Bass, how Chuck had disappeared and they'd all been so very worried about him. "You just wait."
"Whatever." His stance relaxed and expression of one without a care in the world, it had been Chuck's eyes that telegraphed his thoughts so perfectly. He'd known exactly what Blair was thinking, what her gameplan had been even then. Chuck didn't have a healthy fear of adult authority…not unless that authority bore the name of Bart Bass…or Father.
Angry still with him for ruining her dress and slandering Santa, Blair had still hungered for payback but something inside her melted, relented as chocolate eyes meshed with amber.
Maybe she wouldn't tell Bart, but no way was Bass' misdeeds going unpunished.
"Here." He'd shoved something in her hand.
She'd recoiled automatically, wondering what the boy could be up to now and how he planned to further ruin the day for her.
"Take it, Waldorf?" He'd hissed.
"What is it?" She'd considered him with narrowed eyes, never once letting them fall away from his face.
"It's yours." He'd insisted, shoving it into her hand again.
Suspicion riding her hard, Blair had let her eyes drop to the folded paper he was trying to force on her. She didn't speak at first as she studied it and unfolded it carefully.
At her side, Serena had cheered, "Blair, it's your letter."
"Chuck wanted to surprise you." Nate offered.
Blair read it through. It was her letter. Smudge-free. Only it wasn't written on the lavender stationary that she'd taken from her mother's desk. The elegant script lining the page was familiar and as carefully written as her own. "You rewrote it."
"Jeez, Waldorf. It's a stupid letter. Don't go all female on me."
"I assure you that I wasn't." She'd rolled her eyes, but her expression sobered after a moment and she managed to cough out the requisite. "…Thank you."
"Whatever." Hands shoved away in his pocked, he'd shrugged again, his "I don't give a damn" expression perfected even then, but his eyes. Oh his eyes told the story. Relief. And something else that nine-year-old Blair couldn't really put a name to.
"Kid, what do you think you're doing?!!!" A gruff voice from further up the line was say…someone from the circle of lights and fake snow. "Let go!"
"My brother was right. You're fake!" A small voice cried out, the small red-headed boy squirming on Santa's fur and velour covered knees. His small fingers were threaded in Santa's snowy, white beard.
"Crap." Chuck groaned beside her. "Waldorf, you might want to…"
"Yeowwwwwwch!!!" The kid ripped away the beard.
"Look away."
Chuck's warning came seconds too late. An accompanying hand covering her eyes, but it was too late. She'd seen it. Seen him. Santa. The big man in red….he was…as Chuck had put it in the limo "a big, fat phony." All that time, she'd been confiding her personal wishes with some strange man.
Cries of dismay had erupted around her from parents and children alike. She'd heard Nate and Serena nearby talking in fascinated whispered, but it'd been Chuck who held her attention. She'd been angry about fake Santa and beyond upset over the fact that Chuck had been right about the whole thing while she'd been…without all the facts she needed to be completely right. She hadn't felt the urge to strangle him with his own scarf again. No for some strange reason, that melting feeling in her belly surged…fluttering even as she thought of the letter he'd re-written on her behalf.
Reeling herself back to the present, Blair couldn't help the smile curving her mouth. The Basstard had inspired butterflies in her even then. It was so crazy. She could remember that moment so perfectly. How she'd felt. What she'd been thinking but for the life of her she couldn't remember what she'd been asking fake Santa for that year.
Dear Santa, All I want…
"Are you going to see Santa?"
She felt something or someone rather pulling at the hem of her coat until she was staring down into guileless, blue eyes.
"Oh, Celeste. Don't. Your hands." The woman with the little girl reacted immediately, reaching with wipes already in hand for the child's sticky fingers. "I'm so so sorry."
"It's fine." Blair said, making a mental note to call one of her minions asap.
"Are you?" The child reached again, trying to re-capture Blair's attention. Her mother was still busily cleaning sticky fingers and making apologetic noises. "Are you going to see Santa? I'm going to ask for Elmo skates, right Mommy? And an iPod like my brother."
What did Blair want? She'd made her list. Put certain items on hold so that her parents and friends would know what to get her, but what did she really want this year.
Last year, after the UES had been rocked by the loss of one of its own. After Chuck had been so torn apart by it…all she'd wanted was Chuck. Now they were together. Making plans to be together for Christmas Eve an every night that followed.
"Baby, I'm sure she's not going to see Santa. She's a big girl."
"But she's in line." Blue eyes blinked up at Blair in confusion, she looked around. "Do you have a little girl with you?"
"Who me? No!" Blair asserted looked at the child as if she'd grown a second head on the spot. The two stepped glanced at Blair uneasily, making the young woman realize just how forceful her denial had been. She tempered her expression. "Um, well. I meant no…not yet…but…but…one day…"
One day…yes. One day. She suddenly had a vision of herself and a little girl with amber eyes. As prettily dressed as Blair had insisted on, so long ago. And it wasn't Dorota beside her, but Chuck. Her love, teasing and loving her.
They hadn't talked kids or marriage, but of course. One day.
Someday in the future, Chuck's words from that winter night echoed in her ear. He'd promised her the future.
"One day." Blair repeated again, a soft smile stretching.
The mother nodded, stroking her daughter's chestnut curls.
"I was just…I should probably." Stepping away from the line that she'd somehow fallen into, Blair moved away. For just a second, her gaze drifted back towards the big man atop his throne.
No more wishes for Santa. Not this year anyway. But definitely one day. For now, she had her guy and there was a romantic evening to be planned. Just for two.
~*~
II
Chuck resisted the urge to loosen his tie and forced his mind away from the coming night.
It was hard though. Reluctant excitement burgeoned, cultivated by Blair's manic take on the Christmas spirit. She'd decorated her dorm room, the empty Waldorf-Rose apartment, and the penthouse they'd been sharing over the past few months.
With Nate vacationing with the Vanderbilts in Vale and the Humphrey-van der Woodsen family visiting Lily's sister and mother in Florida, it would just be Chuck and Blair for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. The couple planned on flying to France to be with the Waldorfs and Roses for the quickly approaching New Year.
It was the next few days, though, that Chuck looked forward to most. The romantic evening for just the two of them. Then Christmas morning.
Chuck found himself grinning at the novelty of it all. It would be his first real Christmas. He'd been hopeful after his father married Lily van der Woodsen but their newly made family hadn't even survived Thanksgiving and his father had been in the ground before Christmas Day.
The year before that he'd been fueling up the Bass jet for more exotic locales, his customary smirk in place as he'd hijacked his best friend. His intentions twofold. A large part of him, angry with Blair for stirring longings buried far and deep and then dropping him like a bad habit. He'd wanted her to be afraid that he'd let their secret slip, but something else inside had roared with triumph at having managed to keep Nate as far away from Blair…at least until he could figure out a way to get her to admit what she was really feeling for him. Until he could work up the nerve to reveal the complicated thoughts and feelings she inspired.
Chuck couldn't believe they'd gotten past it all. They both reveled in the declaration of their love…both in words and in action. He smirked, thinking of all the ways he planned on showing her tonight.
His eyes on the man sitting across from him, Chuck's mind was quite literally hundreds of miles away.
"So what do you think, Bass?"
The younger man glanced at the specs and proposals that had been messengered to him just days before. The idea was sound. A far larger venture than the one he'd undertaken when he'd sunk all of his personal assets into the Empire. Just months into his ownership of the hotel and the private club, he was a long way off from making his first million, independent of Bass Industries.
If he fell in with the group of developers proposing the new project before him, Chuck would succeed in outdoing his father's accomplishment by years. And best of all, he'd be doing it on his own. That very idea was the only thing that could've possibly convinced him to fly out for the meeting in Vegas just two days before Christmas. Blair hadn't been exactly pleased with him when he'd told her. It probably didn't help matters that he'd called her from the jet just before takeoff.
Fait accompli. She'd been pissed, but what could she say when he'd assured her that he had every intention of making it back to New York in time for their Christmas plans.
The truth of the matter, Chuck was beginning to wonder at the wisdom of his own decision to fly out. He'd had the consortium behind the proposal checked out and the initial report from his PI had come back with everything for the new hotel and casino on the up and up, but the man before him, appeared to be the frontman for a far larger organization.
Settling back in his seat, Chuck pushed the stack of papers aside and studied the man across from him. The man looked the picture perfect definition of a weasel. His features even resembled those of a ferret that Chuck had once begged his father to buy.
Bart hadn't even dignified his son's timid request with a "no" or even a singular glance. He'd waved his son off, never once taking his attention from the telephone call that had taken his whole attention.
One of the decorators who'd arrived to array their penthouse for the holidays had overheard the exchange between father and son. The nosey woman tried assuaging Chuck's hurt feelings at his father's usual brand of disinterest, by suggesting he write a letter to Santa.
At nine years old, Chuck had already made the sobering discovery that it wasn't some overweight, old guy who snuck into their apartment in the dead of night to set up trainsets and leave presents wrapped in bows and tissue paper. No, it was the man he'd ambushed one Christmas Eve in the wee hours just before dawn.
Chuck had awoke through the night and heard rustling from belowstairs. On Christmas Eve, that sound could mean but one thing. Santa had arrived. Excitement had gripped him tight and he'd couldn't resist the urge to sneak down for a closer peek at the jolly old man that his nanny had taken him to see just days before. In those few moments, a torrent of thoughts had raced through him.
Would Santa remember him and the list of things he'd asked for? The baseball and glove and his deepest wish that his father take him to Central Park, despite the islands of gleaming snow that covered the city. Visions of snowball fights and snowmen danced around his still too innocent mind.
Minutes later, he'd been breaking one of his father's cardinal rules, trespassing into the master suite which he was never supposed to enter without his father's express permission. Chuck was too far gone. Amazed at his own discover to remember or care about that particular rule. He'd raced inside, switching on the overhead light and calling out for his father.
"Daddy!!! Wake up. Dad. You gotta see this." Chuck had scrambled up onto the king-sized bed.
"Proper English, Charles. Use it."
"I'm sorry. You have to come downstairs. Santa came and you'll never guess…"
Dragging a hand down his face, his father's expression became dour rather than mirror his son's animated manner. "Charles. Do you have any idea what time it is?"
Chuck had shrugged, "I dunno…late. Daddy. Please…you're going to miss it. Guess who Santa Claus is…just try and guess. I bet you a million dollars that you'll never never figure it out."
Silence had been Chuck's only answer, his father's expression and manner, reminding Chuck of the line he'd crossed in his excitement. His happiness over his discovery had began dissipating and the smile curving his mouth fell away.
Bart heaved an exasperated sigh, "Fine, Charles. You win. I'll never guess. Just tell me and then you get back into bed."
"But…you're supposed to guess."
"Charles, I don't have time for this."
After a moment, Chuck had nodded. "It's Walter."
"Excuse me?"
"Walter is Santa. I saw him. He had his suit on and a big red bag. It makes sense doesn't it. Walter has a snowy, white beard just like Santa. Come see before he has to leave."
"Charles. Our butler isn't going anywhere."
"Yes, he is Dad." The boy had nodded sagely, "He has to deliver toys to all the other kids in the Upper East Side and everywhere else. He won't stay long. Come on."
His father's head shook again, an all too familiar look of disappointment shining in his eyes, making Chuck wonder what he'd done wrong now.
He reached for Bart's hand but his father pulled away, "Dad?"
"Son. You're getting old now. Too old believe in hocus pocus and fairytales. Walter isn't going anywhere except his room after he sets up your toys."
"Is too. He's Santa…"
His father's sharp tone commanded Chuck's immediate silence. "Enough. He's just the butler. Walter isn't Santa. There is no Santa."
Chuck's eyes had gone wide at his father's harsh indictment. "You don't know. The suit…"
"I don't know why he insists on wearing that idiotic suit every year. You never see him." Bart had muttered under his breath, but still Chuck heard. "Not until tonight. Dammit. I don't need this. I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon."
"What? You can't go to a meeting. Tomorrow's Christmas, Daddy. I thought we could go out and play." He'd seen Santa/Walter downstairs with the ball and glove so now all he needed was for his father to take him to Central Park like he'd wanted.
"I'm sorry about that, son. It's really important, though. I wouldn't go otherwise. When you're older you'll understand."
"No, I won't. I want you to stay."
"Well, that's too bad, young man. Now enough. Back to bed."
Dejected, his shoulders had slumped forward and he'd started for the door. As he'd neared it though, he couldn't help asking, "But what about me? Am I going? Can we play with my stuff afterward."
"No. I've spoken with the Archibalds and you'll be spending the day with them at the Waldorfs'. Don't make that face, young man. You like spending time with the Archibalds. Didn't you tell me that Nate was your best friend?"
Chuck had nodded, "He is, but Blair Waldorf isn't. She's stupid and she's a girl. She's always stealing the scarf you gave me."
His father had smiled then, something in his expression that six year old Chuck hadn't quite understood. "You won't always think that, son. Another thing that I promise you."
The boy couldn't see how his father could possibly be right about that but he'd nodded in agreement anyway. "Santa really isn't real?" Chuck's voice piped up, his expression hopeful that Bart would retract his earlier declaration.
Again, Chuck was disappointed.
"Nope. Sorry, kiddo. Now off to bed."
After that there were no more visits to Santa or Lester dressing up and unloading a bag of presents during the hours before Christmas morning. Instead until he could go on his own, Chuck and his Nanny would hit the stores just days before the big day, armed with Bart's Black card.
The ferret thing had happened years later and he'd laughed in the woman's face when she'd smiled sunnily and told him to ask Santa for what he wanted.
"Lady, get real." Had been his exact response. He didn't believe in stupid Santa Claus. But his father's Black Amex was something else all together.
Still, Chuck had surprised himself when just days later he'd agreed to tag along with Archibald and the girls for Blair's yearly conference with…who but Saint Nick. And he'd gone with the minimal amount of sulking. He hadn't meant to say what he had to Blair about Santa not being real. He'd actually been glad when she didn't seem to believe him. But then that stupid kid had to go and yank off stupid fake, Santa's fake beard and she'd believed him.
A clearing throat brought him back to his present dilemma.
"So, what do you think, Bass? Ready to step out from under your old man's shadow and make some real money."
"Oh, I intend to…but tell me." Chuck leaned forward, his tone hushed and just as dangerous as the people the man across from him represented. "What makes you think that I need you to get the job done?"
"I can assure you that you'd have an easier go at accomplishing the task with my people behind you."
"Easy?" Chuck smirked, "I've been one to do things the easy way. Ask my girlfriend."
"Bass…Chuck. Come on. I've got people lined up who are interested in meeting you. They can open more doors than you'd believe possible…help you make your father's legacy look like a mere pittance by comparison."
"By using my hotel to cover up prostitution and gun-running? Hiding money from the feds?"
Weasel blinked at Chuck in surprise. Check and checkmate.
"I pay people a lot of money to look out for my interests, Warner. I got the call just before our little lunch. It's on me, by the way." Chuck stood slowly, plucking invisible lint from his suit. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a flight to catch. My girl's waiting."
"Let's discuss this further. I assure you that the what you'll gain will far outweigh any risks taken." Warner tried again, his expression hardening despite his cajoling words. "Come upstairs with me. My colleagues will be arriving soon to meet us for drinks. Maybe a little entertainment of the feminine persuasion so that you can get a clear idea of just what you're passing up. What do you say, Bass?"
The guy was offering him women and probably all the drugs he could want, but somehow there was something more…an underlying threat that Chuck couldn't fail to recognize.
"Just an hour or two. Your girlfriend will never be the wiser." Weasel said, winking in conspiracy. "I won't breathe a word."
~*~
III
"You went shopping again, didn't you? I swear that kid is barely the size of a peanut and it already has a more extensive wardrobe than the both of us put together." Silence met Serena's words. "Blair?"
"Hmm?"
"Earth to Blair. You haven't heard a single word I've said in the past five minutes, have you." Serena accused.
Blair rolled her eyes, "Don't be ridiculous. Of course, I heard you." She'd been listening. Well, mostly, but sometimes keeping up with her best friend was like trying to keep up with a three year old hyped up on chocolate covered espresso beans. The bounced from one thing to another in quite the same manner she did with all things. Leaping forward without paying much attention to where she might be falling.
Sometimes Blair envied her bestie that wild enthusiasm, but for now her constant chattering was bordering on irksome. Blair immediately felt remorse surge as she thought of how close they'd come to losing one another.
Suddenly, she wished that her best friend wasn't hundreds of miles away in sunny, warm Florida but right there with Blair in the penthouse that suddenly felt too large without a certain someone in the next room or better yet, at her side.
"Of course, I was out shopping." Blair said, surveying the bags crowding the seats around her. "And no I wasn't out shopping for Vanya and Dorota's offspring…again."
She tossed aside the knitted booties she'd been unconsciously fingering, hiding it beneath a throw pillow as if Serena were likely to walk in from the next room and catch her on her out and out lie. Her eyes went to three other bags in the pile that she'd have to stuff beneath the pillow with the cashmere booties. Good thing Serena was visiting with her Aunt Caroline's family.
"Christmas is tomorrow and I had a few last minute items that I needed to pick up. Your gift among them. Too bad, you decided to spend the holidays with little J and Humphrey Dumpty."
"Blair!"
"Oh, come on. You two aren't even a thing. Let me have my fun."
"Whatever. So what'd you get me?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Come on, Blair. I'll tell you what Chuck finally decided to get for you."
Damn. Blondie had her there. Blair hedged, "He wouldn't have told you. Chuck knows that you can't be trusted to keep a secret from me."
"You know what? You're absolutely right. He wouldn't have confided in me but…"
"Eric." Blair gasped out. The younger van der Woodsen had been ducking her out for days before Serena's family left the city. Of course, Chuck would've told his little brother. "Eric told you?" Hmm, unlike Serena she'd thought Eric would've been a tougher nut to crack but if S had gotten it out of the kid.
"No. Not Eric." Serena said, a smile in her voice that she couldn't disguise.
Blair felt her own mouth curve in response. Of course. "Nate." The brunette guessed.
"He didn't mean to slip up. We were talking and he said it and then he swore me to secrecy."
Chestnut curls swung as Blair shook her head. "Tsk-tsk. Naïve Natie. Spill it, S."
"Blair…I promised."
"I won't tell. I just need to know…prepare myself and make sure that my gift is on par. Bass cannot outdo me."
"Oh my God."
"Serena, please. This Christmas is so important. You have no idea. I just want everything to be special. This'll be our first holiday as a couple."
"What about 4th of July. Halloween. Thanksgiving. Columbus Day."
"You're mocking me. Stop it. You know what Christmas means to me and how utterly miserable I was last year. How bad it was for him. I just…I love him so much and I want to make it perfect. Serena, you're my best friend…help. Please."
Serena sighed, "He can't know you know…"
"I'll act really, really surprised. I swear now tell me."
"Well…"
"Serena."
"B."
"Serena Cecilia…"
"Oh, god. Fine. He's planning romantic trip."
Blair's heart stuttered. A trip? Where?!!
"Since Spring semester doesn't start until the end of January. Chuck decided that after your little jaunt to visit your parents for New Years that he'd plan something special for after…for just the two of you."
"Where?"
"I don't know. I couldn't get anything else out of Nate after that."
"Call him. Pump him for information. You can do it. Use those feminine wiles on him. He loves will."
"I will most certainly not."
Blair was off the couch, her mind racing as she paced. "Come on. Do it for sisterhood."
"I'm hanging up now."
"Come on. Don't you want to know what I got for you?"
"I'll find out when we get back."
"Serena, don't you dare hang up the phone…unless you're doing it to call Nate and then report back to…"
Her best friend cut her off, "Enjoy your romantic time with Chuck. I'll talk to you later."
"Serena." Blair pouted, but her friend was already gone. "Dammit."
She glanced at her watch. She had hours still until Chuck was supposed to be back in the city. His plane should be taking off soon enough. Just enough time to set up the penthouse and get things arranged just the way she wanted. She already had the dress that she played to wear for their evening seeing the Nutcracker. Blair also had a little something special that she planned on wearing underneath…something fun that she knew Chuck would get a kick out of when they snuck back to the limo during intermission. Or maybe this time, she'd let him convince her to close the curtains to their private box seats. The Opera house would be dark enough and everyone would be intent on watching Clara, her prince, and the Sugarplum Fairy.
Blair had chosen Chuck's gift weeks ago but suddenly she was uncertain. She needed more. Wanted to make it good for him. His first real Christmas. Blair wanted to get it right.
"Dorota!!" Her call to arms hit the air before she remembered the fact that she wasn't back at the Waldorf Apartment and that Dorota was in Poland with Vanya, breaking the news to her family about the addition coming their way.
God, why had she given Dorota the time off. She needed her. The older woman was always quick on her feet. Blair briefly considered calling her. What was the time difference between New York and Dorota's hometown again?
Blair hurried off.
~*~
IV
Five hours later, Blair was dressed and ready to go, ballet tickets waiting on the mantle and the gift…well one of many gifts that she'd finally settled on, wrapped and under the tree. The very same tree that she and Chuck had had so much fun erecting and single-handedly decorating the week before.
She glanced at her watch, staring worriedly out at the darkened night sky and the white flakes the size of her fingernail that rained down quite steadily. It'd started hours ago and seemed to be sticking as it blanketed the city.
Blair stared out, morosely. The magic of the sight before her, leaving her unmoved as she reached again for her cell phone. She tried his cell phone again and was immediately dumped to his voicemail.
During the sixth hour, she'd already called their friends at least a dozen times each. Needing to know if he'd somehow called them and not her. Nightmare visions of the year before, Bart Bass' accident and Serena's just over a week before, made her belly churn with fear.
Nate. Good ol' Nate thought to call Chuck's hotel, Serena and Blair conferenced in so that they could listen in.
"Mr. Bass checked out as scheduled, ma'am. Sorry. Wish I could be of more assistance."
Hour seven. It was Humphrey Dumpty with the bright idea to check with the private airstrip where the Bass Jet had been serviced. Lily made that call.
"Took off without a problem, Mrs. Bass…Humphrey." "Yes, ma'am. We thoroughly inspected the plane before takeoff. Everything looked fine."
Eight hours after Blair first talked to her best friend, she was deathly calm. Her tone and manner wooden.
"I'm coming, Blair. We're going to figure this out." Serena assured, crisis and trauma fresh in her mind and clear in her tone. She was thinking about her accident and Bart, too.
Hour nine. Still no answer.
Showered and changed. Needed something to distracted from the crawling seconds and minutes. She shed her gown that had fit like second skin and pulled on a button down shirt that fell to her knees and smelled of him.
Ten hours after.
"Miss. I'm really sorry but procedure is procedure. The man is of age. We can't list him missing until he's actually been missing for 24 hours. Maybe there was a mix-up and you two got your signals crossed."
Christmas already in Poland and France. Dorota soothing and Eleanor clearly worried.
"I come, Miss Blair. Mr. Chuck fine. You'll see."
"Blair, I'm sure you're overreacting as the officer said. Chuck will turn up. He always does. Have you tried Jack?"
Twelve hours after her talk with Serena and panic over presents and what to wear, snow was still falling. Falling so quickly that Blair could barely see out into the city. Blizzard. A blizzard in New York. Like she needed this now. It was Christmas and the fire was roaring. She was warm…too hot. Scared. Where was Chuck?
"Mailbox full." His voicemail informed her.
Still Blair spoke, embracing her anger rather than the pit of helplessness that wanted to suck her down deep. "Where the fuck are you, Bass? It's after midnight. Merry effing Christmas."
"Chuck, we missed the ballet. I heard it was an excellent performance. You owe me big time, mister."
"Chuck…I'm scared. Call me. Come home."
Tossing the phone away from her as it went dead in her hand, Blair sank down onto the couch, the tears she'd been fighting flowing free. Sobs clogging her chest. Her fingers clutched at the sofa, gripping tight. But it was a lost cause.
Her sobbing filled the empty apartment. Heartbroken and rife with fear. Christmas Eve ruined. Where was her Bass?
Her grip on the cushions loosened only when her fingers began to ache as much as the fist-sized pain gripping her chest. Finally, her sobs quieted to soft hiccups and her fingers brushed something soft.
Cashmere.
The booties she'd picked out for Dorota's baby, but it wasn't Dorota's baby she was think of as she cradled them in her palm. No, it was the dark-haired, amber eyed little girl that she'd envisioned earlier in line to see Santa.
Dear Santa, I've been a mostly good girl this year and I've fallen in love. All I really want for Christmas is…Chuck. Please send him home and that's all I'll need. Consider it my last and only wish from here until the end of time. He's what I want. All I really want. Please.
Always
BCW
Blair composed it again and again in her mind. Wishing to Santa. Praying to God. Still her phone sat silent. Her legs curled under her and his scent surrounding her, Blair's head lolled against the back of the sofa as she stared into the dying fire. She couldn't make herself move to reach for the poker and stir embers. Instead she sat there, drained and heavy-lidded. Her last waking thoughts as she stared into the fire was wonderings of how a plane looked after it crashed. Did it explode instantly like in those movies or was there a slow burn that devoured ever in its wake.
~*~
V
Gasping for air. That was how she woke up, the first traces of dawn spilling in through the window. Through the bedroom window.
Blair ran a hand through her hair, as she tried to remember how she'd gotten there. The sofa. She remembered falling asleep on the sofa, staring into the fireplace. On the heels of that, everything else came slamming back to her.
Oh, God.
She threw the blankets from her legs and pulled on a robe over Chuck's shirt.
"Chuck!" Blair called out as she hurried from their bedroom, her voice sounding shaky and oddly broken to her own ears. "Chuck."
He didn't answer her.
Someone had put her to bed.
Serena? Her bestie had been trying to get a flight back to New York the last time they'd talked. Could Serena have arrived and awoken her from her stupor long enough to get her to bed? The guest rooms were all empty. So was Nate's bedroom. So was the rest of the penthouse.
It was real. This was actually happening.
She should call someone.
Blair sank down on the sofa, glancing at the untouched presents under the Christmas tree. She frowned. Something tickling her the back of her mind but too frazzled for anything to click. Blair glanced around the room again. Everything was the same as the night before. Even the ballet tickets.
No. Wait.
She stood slowly, her chocolate eyes snagging on a single strip of lavender. A folded page, neat in three sections. It was stuck in between the presents she'd spent an hour artfully arranged the afternoon before. Her fingers shook as she unfolded it.
Her mother's stationary. Only a fresh piece. Not the same letter she'd written at all. Or even the one that Chuck had slipped to her later.
The handwriting wasn't that of her nine-year-old self and neither were the words written.
Her voice as shaky as ever, Blair read it aloud:
Dear Santa,
I've been a good girl this year. Mostly, at any rate. Only I've managed to fall in love with the naughtiest boy in town. Sometimes naughty is nice though, wouldn't you agree. Anyway, I've been a good girl I've put up with Chuck Bass. That should merit me few choice tokens. I've broken his heart but he's broken mine too. I told him of my love but he threw the words back into my face. He asked for a second chance and I ran away. I fell in love with a boy and someday I'll be his wife. For now though we're happy. Things are going to just fine. I'm quite happy with this life of mine. A life spent with my one and only valentine. Still, it's Christmas and I must ask…that besides my favorite Bass there's just a few simple tasks. Dear, dear Santa…this year, all I want for Christmas is…
Her words faltered and tears clouded her vision. This was it. She'd forgotten. More than a decade past. She'd forgotten and he'd somehow remembered.
"Read the rest."
Warmth spread across her back as he stepped in close, his scent filling her senses and his teasing tones a balm to her soul. She whirled, and there he was. "Bass?"
"Waldorf."
"You're okay. You're here." Her hand rose from her side as if to touch him.
"In the flesh."
She didn't move, her hand frozen and feet stuck to the floor as her eyes drank him in. Eyes assuring her mind and heart that all was well in the world again. Her Bass was back. Back without a scratch in sight.
History repeating. Blair went for his throat first.
"You son-of-a-bitch. Do you have any idea…any inkling of how terrified I was last night? You Basstard…how dare you put me through that?"
Her fury made her strong and it took longer than it should've to wrench her clawed hands from around his throat. Finally free, he gulped down air. "Goddammit, woman." Cough. Cough. "You weren't the only one who went through hell last night."
Blair wasn't paying attention. She made a beeline for her cellphone on the coffeetable. "This is a cell phone, you jerk. Heard of it. It has all kinds of uses. TELEPHONING far off locales. Texting your best friend. Internet. GPS and OH YEAH. Calling your girlfriend to let her know that you're alive and not some charred popsicle in a firey, snowy grave."
"I'm sorry. Shit. I left my phone on the plane."
"Payphones…those still exist you know. Or…email. Something! Dorota's probably gathering the Polish army. I know Cyrus and Lily were both making phone calls. The stupid NYPD wouldn't declare you missing and as far as the Vegas police department was concerned, you'd checked out of your hotel and your plane took off out of their jurisdiction without a problem." Blair ranted, pacing back and forth.
"You are so sexy when you want to rip my heart out." Chuck flopped down on the sofa, "And you already know what I think of you wearing my shirts."
"Are you kidding me? I'm dreaming. I'm having a nightmare and last night never even happened."
"It happened, baby, but I'm here and I'm okay. I would've called. I swear it to you but I had to get to you. I made it to you…through a blizzard no less. Come here, Waldorf. Please." Chuck beckoned, suddenly needing to hold her more than anything. A memory flashed in his mind. The sight of her huddled on the sofa, wearing nothing except his shirt. Tear tracks marking a path down her cheeks and a whimper escaping her. He'd carried her to bed and then began making phone calls, finding out quite quickly the hell she'd been in while he'd been out doing his best to make it home in time. He didn't mean to be so glib about the whole damn thing, but it was a natural defense that he couldn't help himself from falling back on now and again. "Please, Waldorf. I'm sorry that we missed the ballet. I'll make it up to you."
"That's not the problem, you idiot."
"I know, but it's a start. Look. I probably should've woken you up last night, but I was drained last night. I got you to bed and made a few phone calls and then I was out. Yesterday was fucking unbelievable and I promise you that there's nowhere else that I wanted to be than here with you watching the effing Nutcracker."
Slowly she made her way over to him but she didn't sit. He reached out and pulled her down onto his lap. Automatically she burrowed into him. Her fingers tracking through his hair and her nose against his ear.
Chuck's arms convulsed around her as he hugged her tight, his head turning until he could drop a quick kiss on her nose.
"Spill, Bass. What the hell happened?"
"Well, there was a problem with the plane." He told her but rushed onward to assure her as she stiffened in his arms, her breath a sharp hiss in his ears. "It wasn't like that. Not a crash. We landed at a small airfield outside of Fort Worth. There was nothing, B. Christmas Eve. I contemplated the fucking Greyhound or buying the whole fucking company…chartering one of my own but there was none to be had. I ended up in a car with a family of five. They were headed north. Not to New York, but they got me close, baby."
Blair pulled back, content to listen. Secure knowing that he was there. That he was okay.
"I was able to charter a helicopter but then with this fucking blizzard hitting the East Coast, I couldn't get all the way here. We had to land in Baltimore. I was able to rent a car…."
Outrage filled her. "Wait a minute. Arthur's here with me. What do you mean rented a car?"
"I can drive."
"You never drive." Blair retorted.
"But I can."
"Not in a fucking snowstorm. Are you insane?"
"Wait. Now, you're mad at me for do whatever I needed to do to get home." Chuck laughed despite himself, grunting as her elbow dug into his belly. "Waldorf."
"It's not funny." She glared at him. "You could've been hurt. Swear that you'll never do anything crazy like that again. I can't lose you, you foolish man. Promise."
"I promise to always think of you."
"That's not what I asked."
"Too bad." He smirked.
Smirked in the face of her worry. She pinched him for good measure. "What if you'd fallen asleep or hit black ice?"
"I was very careful, Waldorf. And the roads weren't that bad…not really. Visibility was a bitch. Speaking of…I had some company during my drive up. No way was I falling asleep."
Blair frowned at him. Company? What did he mean by that?
"Finish it." He told her, reaching for the letter that had fallen to the carpet.
"What?"
"For me." Chuck entreated.
She read the rest. All she'd wanted for Christmas when she was nine-year-old. She wanted to ask him what it meant and how he could've possibly remembered any of it. Or the letter at least when she couldn't herself.
Dear Santa, All I want for Christmas is…
1. A new dress.
"Third one from the left." Chuck whispered in her ear and nudged her from his lap. "The purple bow."
Right. It was one of the presents that she didn't recognize. One she didn't remember putting under the tree. Out of place from what she'd done before.
Smiling, she went as he bade, reaching for the large box. Blair made quick work of the ribbons and gold foil wrapping. There wrapped in tissue paper…a dress just for her. Just like she'd asked
2. A baby brother, Serena has Eric and it's only fair.
"Sorry, Waldorf. You're going to have to talk that one over with your mother and the three dads." He laughed, leaving the sofa and coming to sit with her on the floor, like two children on Christmas morning. "Not can't help with that one at all."
Blair heard his words but even louder in her mind were the words he didn't say. The ones shining in those perfect amber eyes.
One day…
3. I want to be beautiful like Audrey. She's pretty don't you think.
"Audrey was eminently fuckable…"
Blair gasped, grabbing a small box wrapped in pink and tossed it at his head.
Laughing, he caught it with ease.
"Don't you dare. No insulting Audrey."
"Whose insulting. She was extremely beautiful, but I can't help you with that particular Christmas wish either because you put her to shame, Waldorf. Always have, always will."
Blair's cheeks ran hot and those damn butterflies quickening, letting her know that no one, but no one could stir them to life like the man beside her.
"Fine. You're forgiven. It's Christmas but I won't be so tolerant in the future."
He responded with a cheeky wink.
She glanced at her list again, suspicion lighting her eyes. "Chuck Bass. What did you do?"
"Told you I had company on the drive up. Nice family from Texas remember."
Blair remembered quite clearly the year she'd asked for the fourth item on her list and gotten a resounding no from her mother. The excuse, that poor Dorota didn't need any more responsibility than her duties at the apartment and keeping up with Blair's demanding nine-year-old self.
Eyebrow quirked, her expression doubtful. " '4. What I really, really want more than anything else forever and ever is a puppy. Mommy said no but you can make it'. You didn't."
Chuck shrugged, "You said it yourself. Unlike your mother, I make things happen."
"I was talking about Santa."
"Ho-ho-ho, Waldorf. Just call me St. Nick." Then whistled and smiled, drinking in her every expression as a woof hit the air and scurrying feet or paws came closer and closer to them.
Disbelief. Shock. Awe.
Was that a smile?
Child-like, bright and beautiful. "You got me a puppy?!!!!"
"I believe that's what that creature is called. Though he doesn't have a name as yet." Chuck confided, "We spoke in the car and he agreed that you should have the honors."
Tongue lolling in an uber happy, nice to meet you, are you my new mommy puppy grin, the cutest most adorable puppy that Blair had ever laid eyes came bounding around the sofa, sporting a red bow. "Oh! He's adorable. Chuck look at him."
That was all the invitation that the nameless puppy needed before he launched himself at both Chuck and Blair. Pink tongue swiping Chuck's cheek before moving to Blair to share the love.
"What do you say, Waldorf? What's his name and nothing prissy like Fluffy or Prince. Or Butch. Give him a manly name but not Rover or Astro…"
"Nick." Blair said, one hand stroking the puppy's upturned belly, the other threading her fingers through Chuck's.
"Nick?" He questioned, seemed to test the sound of it on his tongue. In his head. Slowly he nodded his approval.
"St. Nicholas but Nick for short." She hugged the wriggling puppy. "I love him. I love him so much. Wait…what happened to our tri…" Blair fell silent, remembering that she wasn't supposed to know about that until the last minute. "uh, nevermind. Come open one of your presents."
Chuck wasn't fooled, "I knew it. You couldn't resist. For your information, I knew that you'd send your little spies out and the trip was a decoy more than anything else…"
"Wait. You and Nate, pulled one over on u…Serena."
"You too, Waldorf."
"No way. I knew that would be too easy. Now open your present." On her hands and knees she reached beyond the larger boxes, those could wait. She reached behind the trip for a smaller one. "Here."
This one sported a purple bow, too. But this one she'd wrapped herself.
Chuck didn't speak. His smile died as he caught sight of what was inside. The weight of it balance in his palm. "I don't understand…how…I tried…"
"I sent my spies out…" Blair teased, watching him as the studied the ball in his hands. Grudgingly she admitted, "I wanted to get something that would mean a lot to you and then I remembered you telling me about Nate getting swindled by Carter and Carter stealing your ball. It was simple. A phone call to Serena and she tracked down Carter. After that I just had to find the buyer and convince him that this baby needed to be reunited with it's rightful owner. And in case you've forgotten...I can be extremely persuasive."
Carefully, Chuck set the ball out of harm's way or rather away from Nick's covetous brown eyes. Then he took the puppy from her arms and set him aside. He kissed her then, sweet and hungry at the same time, murmuring love words all the while.
He pulled her robe off before she came to her senses, flat on her back with him towering over her and something scratchy and wet licking her toes. Blair giggled at that.
"Nope. Don't even think about. Not in front of the P-U-P-P-Y."
"One second." Chuck pushed himself up and gathered Nick into his arms. Nicky reacted with another puppy grin aimed at her over Chuck's shoulder. His tail wagged manically and he woofed in quick succession.
Laughing as he hurried from the room, she called out. "Hey. Where do you think you're going?"
She tipped her head to the side, listening out and wondering where indeed he was going with her new puppy. She couldn't stop smiling. Minutes passed and just as she was reaching for her robe so she could find out just where he'd disappeared to, he was back. Nicky nowhere in sight and his expression intent on decidedly naughty things.
"Where is my puppy, Bass?"
Chuck shrugged out of his shirt and unbuckled his pants before sinking to his knees. "Puppy is with my staff."
"Hey! We're not going to be those parents that just shove their offspring aside to be raised by the staff." Blair started to her feet, only to be tumbled back onto her button and then her back as Chuck leaned over her.
"Of course not. Not our…puppies. Sitters are acceptable though. Especially when I'm in the mood to make love to the woman I love."
Blair nodded as his hands reached for the buttons of her shirt…his shirt, his mouth moving from hers to her jaw and then the curve of her throat. "I suppose you have a point."
"Thought you'd see it that way."
"We don't have to go away, you know. If you don't mind. I rather stick close to home for a while."
"You won't get an argument from me on that count, Waldorf."
She shivered deliciously with each button that was freed. Goosebumps rising on her flesh that had nothing to do with being cold. Who the hell could be cold? She was burning up. Suddenly the clothes separating were far too many in number and his mouth. She wanted that. Wanted his kiss. Needed it desperately to kiss away the lingering fears of the night before.
"Bass."
"Mmhmm."
"I love my puppy. Adore my Nicky. The dress is beautiful, too."
"Good, I found shoes and a few other bits to go along with it."
"Of course you did." She squirmed like Nicky as his fingertips skimmed her naked belly, creeping further and further downward.
"Thanks for getting my ball back."
A moan rose in Blair throat as that wicked, smirking mouth followed the same path that his skimming, tickling fingers had taken. Those same fingers drawing small circles against the sensitive flesh of her thighs. "Anytime…Chuck?"
"Mmhmm." He hooked his fingers in her La Perlas, yanking them away inch by excruciating inch.
"You're all I want for Christmas." She gasped out, her fingers sinking into his hair.
Chuck's head rose and chocolate clashed with amber, meshing. "Right back at you, Waldorf. Now enough talking. Puppy…sitter, remember. We're working on borrowed time here."
"Well, then get to work."
"As my lady wishes. Merry Christmas, baby."
"Merry Christmas, Bass."
The End
A/N: Well that's how it went in my head. A little sexy, mixed in with sweet and a helluva lotta angst…I couldn't resist, they do it so well. A trip down memory lane. My first one-shot and I managed to get it all in, yay right. I haven't forgotten And They All Lived or Crash Into Me. I have a few chapters written but think I needed a bit of a break. I was quite happy with how this piece turned out so I'd say that that break paid off, no? As always, let me know what you're thinking, the kids' disastrous visit to see Santa, young Chuck's midnight visit with Bart, the drama in between and of course our couple's happy reunion with gifts to boot. Love you guys. Stay safe and enjoy your holiday season. Here's hoping for many, many great things for you guys and our couple in 2010. ;)