Summary: "You know I dreamed about you for twenty-nine years..." Blair Waldorf returns to New York at 29, and Chuck has been preparing for this chance for a lifetime.

Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own Gossip Girl, Blair, or Chuck.

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This is what I'd been missing, I realized, as I fell into his coffee eyes. Chuck's arms were around me, and his hands drifted over my bare back. He nuzzled against me tenderly, and something inside me melted.

"Say it again," I whispered.

"Should I get the ring?" he asked, and he started to roll over in bed, but I pressed my shoulder into his to still the movement.

"Not that," I said. "The eight letters."

He swallowed, and I could tell he was remembering all the times we'd been here before. In front of a Hamptons mansion, atop a roof in Brooklyn, beside a limousine just outside this building—we'd tried so many times to be honest, to be brave. I felt his hands shake slightly.

"Blair Waldorf," he started, and his eyes were shining at me and I pressed my lips together, willing myself not to cry.

"I love you," he said, and I finally breathed. "I love you," he repeated, more firmly this time. "I love you."

"Chuck Bass," I said, and he looked so hopeful that I almost broke, so I kissed him instead. I slipped down into the pillows and he moved on top of me, touching me carefully and studying me with expectant eyes. I kissed him again and lifted my chin as he hovered over me.

"I want to try," I said, "But Chuck, we can't get married."

His shoulders dropped and I kissed him quickly in an attempt to reassure him before he pulled back. "I should have known," he said as he stood up and pulled on a robe. "What, Blair, do you want to keep Mr. Perfect on the backburner while you have a few last times with me?"

"Chuck!" I felt that familiar anger burn through my veins as I wrapped the other hotel robe around me and strode over to him. I grabbed his arm. "You cannot honestly expect me to just jump into an engagement when I haven't even seen you for over a decade!"

"I've here the whole time, Blair! I watched you graduate from Yale, I saw that Ben guy kiss you on the day you finished Wharton, I read about your job and promotion in the paper—I've been working for this, for you, for years!" He spit out the sentences and then tore his eyes away from mine and looked to the left, his jaw clenched.

I stood before him and his words reverberated through me. I moved to him and placed my palms flat on his chest, and angled my face in front of his.

"Chuck," I said softly, and I saw his eyes glimmering, so I wrapped my arms around his neck and his shoulders collapsed underneath me as he buried his head in my hair. "I've been in love with you this whole time," I admitted to him. The confession freed something inside of me, and as soon as I said the words the truth within them hit me harder than I'd thought possible, and I clung to him, suddenly feeling vulnerable and horribly needy. I remembered then why I'd been so afraid, and I stroked his hair, trying to soothe away my own insecurities.

"Then marry me," he whispered into my neck.

"You know I want to say yes," I replied.

"Then say it," he said, and my eyes crinkled at the return of his old arrogance.

I paused. I could say it. I could agree to marry him right now and I knew what would happen. I would get swept up in him, in his life, and for awhile, it would be wonderful, a whirlwind of sex and lust and fire and money and adventure. He sensed my hesitation and stood up straight.

"Or at least tell me what I can do to convince you," he returned.

"I want to try," I said slowly, "To try you and me, to learn about each other again and—" I echoed his words from years before, "—and take it slow this time, to do it right."

He smirked at me. "I wouldn't call tonight a slow start, Waldorf."

"A marriage proposal and mind-blowing sex?" I replied, and his smile returned.

"Mind-blowing?" he teased. "Or maybe another kind of blow—"

"Bass!" I flirted, and he pulled me to him. I could feel him hard against me and tried to concentrate.

"You're saying I should woo you," he said.

"I don't know if I would have said 'woo' exactly, Bass," I said, "But I think maybe we should, you know, spend more than three hours together before we announce our impending nuptials."

"I don't want you announcing your impending nuptials with anyone else," he said darkly.

I froze in his arms. "There's nothing going on between me and Ben," I said. "He surprised me tonight."

"It wasn't pleasurable for me," he rasped. "Especially when I'd just been rejected."

"I'm not rejecting you," I said, "Just…" I searched for the right word, but nothing was appropriate, so I settled. "Postponing?"

"You know how to make a guy feel special, Waldorf," he drawled. "Fine. Postpone me. But I'd like to know I'm the only one in queue."

"How British of you, Bass," I replied. "I'll talk with Ben." Chuck's face narrowed and I clenched his shoulders. "And don't be mean. Ben has been good to me, and I want to stay friends with him if I can."

"Okay." He clipped the word out.

"Okay?" I said, and I kissed him. "Maybe you have changed."

"Maybe I've just learned that you with a lovesick guy friend is better than no you at all," he said, and he traced the outline of my mouth with his finger. I caught his fingertip in my mouth and gave him a small nip. "I'm going to ask you again," he murmured softly.

"Good," I retorted, and he smiled before a serious look settled over his face.

"I love you," he said, and he kissed me before I could say anything else.

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I leaned against the cab's upholstery, trying not to grin but failing miserably. The brisk air from the open window felt good on my flushed cheeks, and I touched the charms on my diamond necklace.

I tipped the driver double when we reached my apartment building and hurried upstairs. I entered my home and slid off my heels, stretching my calves.

"Blair Cornelia Waldorf!" Serena's voice boomed from my front room. "You have some explaining to do!" She came around the corner and did a double-take at the sight of me in my party dress.

"S," I pleaded, but she was already laughing.

"And here I was all worried about you," she managed. "Oh, B, tell me, how is my stepbrother?"

"How did you know I was with Chuck?" I said.

"Your hair," she teased.

I looked in the hall mirror. I had telltale sex hair—finger-raked and alarmingly poofy. I pulled a ponytail holder out of a small box on the front table and smoothed it down before tying it up in a bun. I headed into my bedroom to change and Serena followed after me, flopping onto a velvet chaise.

"S," I sighed as I pulled on running capris and a long-sleeved t-shirt. "I missed him. It just--it was so good to be with him."

"Did you say yes?"

I bit my lip. "I told him to wait and ask me again," I said, suddenly nervous that I'd made a mistake.

Serena sat up. "And he agreed?"

I nodded and settled next to her, fidgeting with my ruby ring. I dipped my head. "Do you think I made the right decision?"

"B," she said, "You know I love you. And I love Chuck, in our own weird stepsibling way. I haven't wanted to say much about him to you because, well, because I didn't want you to get hurt again."

I looked at her.

"But B, what you've been doing, avoiding this altogether—it's not good for you. And besides," she said, loping an arm around me in a hug, "I can tell you are still crazy about ol' Chuckles."

I laughed. "I am, Serena," I said softly. "I still love him."

"Then see if it can work," she replied.

"I feel terrible about Ben," I whispered.

"If Ben really loves you," she reasoned, "He'll want you to be happy." She smiled at me and squeezed my hand. "That's all I want."

"You know," I remarked, "If it works out with me and Chuck, we'll be sisters."

"We already are," she said, and I smiled.

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This, I decided, was going down in history as one of my best runs ever. The weather was lovely, with a cool bite that counteracted the warmness that accompanied the exercise. I'd kept a steady pace—perfect, I thought, considering the recent unsteadiness in my life—and my legs felt loose from the workout. I slowed to a walk, admiring the park.

I strolled through Central Park, wondering why I hadn't come here every weekend when I lived in the city. I remembered playing here with Serena, Chuck, and Nate when we were younger, and I recalled Chuck chasing me through the grass, pinning me down and untying my pigtails. Typical, I thought, and I felt myself smile at the memory of the four of us. Nate was living in Boston now, working as a fund manager for an environmentally-conscious investment group. He liked to say that he had a job his mother could brag about but still got to wear jeans to the office. He and Vanessa were living together there, and he'd told me that he was trying to convince her that marriage wasn't a bourgeois institution. I never thought, when I was playing here so many years ago, we'd all end up where we are, but somehow it feels right.

I took a sip of water from the fountains near Bethesda and headed out of the park. I swung my arms out in front of me and looked up at the sky, feeling lighter than I had in years.

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I headed home and showered, changing into a cream cashmere cardigan and a worn-in pair of jeans before settling down at my kitchen island. I flipped open my laptop and clicked through my bookmarked news sites, making a few notes for my meeting on Tuesday. My promotion allowed me to set my own hours, which I'd learned suited my personality. Serena said that I was like a woman possessed when I was inspired, and she was right—I could easily spend twelve hours a day working when a project took hold of me. I'd learned to relax during my down time, though, something I attributed to my time in London.

I looked down at my fingers on the keyboard and slid off my ruby ring before smiling and placing it over my left ring finger. I shook my head and slid the ring back onto my other hand. I hadn't thought of marriage in a long time. I'd considered a wedding with Nate—something formal and traditional, with the Vanderbilt ring and solemn vows.

I'd dreamed about marrying Chuck once. I went over to his suite the day after Thanksgiving with a pie, and he had answered the door in pajamas. He ordered a pair for me from Barneys, surprisingly conservative pale gray cashmere ones with loose pants and a wrap top. We spent the whole day on his couch, eating pie and turkey sandwiches and arguing over the remote. I fell asleep in his arms and woke up during the night to find him holding me, a blanket wrapped over us both. I turned to face him and his eyes fluttered open, smiling as he touched his nose to mine. Then he said—and I can still hear his voice now, because when he said it something in me lit up—"Well, Waldorf, I know what I'm thankful for." We moved from the couch to the bed and he unwrapped my top and we made love slowly, like we were forever and had all the time in the world. That night I'd slept with my head on his chest and dreamed about waking up with him every morning.

The buzzer on my apartment rang and I hurried over to the speaker.

"Mr. Charles Bass for you, Ms. Waldorf."

"Please send him up, Henry."

I let out a squeal and dashed around my apartment, cleaning up as best I could. I ran over to the hallway mirror and examined my reflection, then realized I was still in my casual clothes. He knocked and I grimaced at my appearance, knowing I didn't have time to change.

"Chuck," I purred, opening the door.

"Blair," he said, and he tugged me to him and shut the door behind us. We were up against one wall of my entryway, and he dragged his mouth down my neck before stepping back.

"Good afternoon," he smirked, and I pushed his chest to walk past him to the living room.

"You here for a reason, Bass?" I said.

"I think it's evident what I'm here for," he said, and I raised my eyebrows at him. "Or rather, who I'm here for."

"You are remarkably corny," I replied.

"I prefer to think I have a sort of classic charm," he said.

"You've certainly got something," I flirted.

We looked at each other and I felt warm all over, felling my skin blush pink. I swallowed and fidgeted with my ring.

"Well," he said. He adjusted his bow tie—oh, I missed those ridiculous bow ties—and moved toward me, touching my waist lightly, like he had the night before. He cleared his throat. "Waldorf, I came over to see if I could take you out."

"You're asking me out on a date?" I asked. I knew I was grinning but couldn't help myself.

"I've been instructed to take it slow," he rasped, and his breath tickled my ear.

"I'd love to, Chuck."

"Right now?"

"You know, I do have a life," I said.

"I know," he replied, more seriously than I would have anticipated. "I was hoping you might be able to fit me in." Our eyes met and I knew he was referring to more than today. I reached up and touched the nape of his neck before I kissed him softly. He drew me to him and stroked the small of my back.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"I was thinking a movie," he said, "You know, Chuck and Blair going to the movies."

I was touched by the sentiment.

He continued. "Chuck and Blair holding hands," he said, and he reach up and threaded his fingers through mine.

"I love it," I said honestly.

"I love you," he said, and it still surprised me how easily he said it, with no prompting or expectations. He must have seen it in my eyes, because he kissed me once more and led me back toward the front door. I pulled my red coat out of the closet and he held it for me while I shrugged my arms inside. I looked down at the bottom button and attempted to close it while simultaneously opening my front door. I felt Chuck stiffen behind me and I looked up into Ben's blue eyes.

"Blair," he said desperately, and I froze.

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To be continued... Thank you very much for the reviews, your words mean so much to me!