Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They belong to Cecily von Zeigesar and The CW.

Thank you to TriGemini for the idea.

Chuck woke up with the bright morning sun hitting his eyes. He groaned as he looked over at the clock to see that it was barely seven thirty in the morning. He cursed himself for not closing the blinds the previous evening as he rolled over to block out the offending rays and get more sleep, but he rolled right into a warm body. He panicked at first because he couldn't remember going out the previous evening and picking any girls up, but the auburn curls gave her away and he sighed in happiness. Blair.

She had stayed the entire night with him in bed. She had threatened to leave at one point, trying to convince him that she needed a change of clothes, but he had talked his way out of it. He couldn't bear to be separated from her right now . . . perhaps ever again. They'd cross that bridge later.

He had come to her, or rather she came upon him outside the Palace, and offered her his heart, unconditionally. He had said the three words that she needed to hear . . . the three words he needed to say.

He'd fought them, long and hard. He was Chuck Bass. He wasn't supposed to feel an emotion as powerful and dangerous and wonderful as love. He hadn't been raised that way. His father had taught him to close off his emotions, bury them as deep as possible. They were a sign of weakness, and a Bass man was never weak. They ate weakness for breakfast.

With Blair, Chuck didn't feel weak. He felt powerful and confident and . . . happy. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he'd really smiled or even laughed, it may have been the last time he was with her during the week after his father married Lily.

"What a wasted year," he thought as he began caressing the soft skin of her shoulder as she slept. She continued to sleep soundly, mumbling occasionally in her sleep. He chuckled softly as he leaned forward to try and make out what she was saying. It sounded like orders she would give Dorota, but he couldn't be sure. He never knew she talked in her sleep. He'd have to tease her about it later.

He stomach began rumbling loudly as he suddenly realized how hungry he was. It had been a long time since he'd actually had anything to eat, since before his confession. She must be just as hungry. They had exerted a lot of energy in the past sixteen hours. Has it really been that long already?

He began scanning the room for the presents he had given her the day before. They were lying forgotten on the floor near the foot of the bed. She had almost gotten around to opening them at one point, but they were still wrapped. He smiled at the one present that he hadn't told her about. It had been a deliberate omission on his part. He couldn't get the words out, it was easier to tell her how he felt that to let her truly see what she had meant to him in that moment. It was hard enough to tell her how he felt, but for her to truly see how he felt that was the last step. This package would show her, for it was such a part of him.

They'd get to the present eventually. She was too much like him to let it go for too long, but for now he concluded that room service would need to be ordered. He rolled out of bed slowly so that he wouldn't wake her, grabbed his robe and then walked out of the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"Chuck," he heard her moan from the bedroom just as breakfast was being delivered. He quickly signed his name to the bill, giving the attendant a generous tip, even for him, and shoved him out the door for fear that Blair would come out as naked as she had been the previous evening. He would love it of course, but the attendant didn't deserve a tip that good.

He quickly pushed the breakfast cart into the bedroom to see that she was still asleep. She was tossing and turning as if she was having a nightmare. When had that started?

"Blair," he whispered softly as he went to pull her into his arms to cradle her. She began to relax slightly but she was still shaking. He ached to know what she was dreaming about. What could cause her that much fear and worry? He began stroking her hair repeatedly as he began softly whispering her name over and over again in hopes that he would wake her. She didn't deserve whatever nightmare she was facing.

"Chuck," she gasped as her eyes opened wide.

"I'm right here," he whispered into her ear as he continued spoon with her in his arms, rocking back and forth slightly now.

"Oh my god," she gulped as she tried to catch her breath as she reached out to grasp his forearm tightly that was wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured her as she began taking deep breathes in an effort to calm herself down. Tears were rolling down her cheeks as she still was shaking although the terror he had first when she woke up was slowly subsiding. "Talk to me, Blair."

"Oh my god," she repeated as the shaking finally stopped, "I don't know what happened. One minute you were sitting with me in this beautiful meadow surrounding by pink wildflowers, and then the next minute you just disappeared and I couldn't find you. I kept hearing a sinister cackle, which sounded suspiciously like Georgina by the way, but you had vanished into thin air. I was frantically searching for you, and then I found my way into this dark wooded area and the trees began reaching out for me, like in Snow White."

"It was just a dream," he stated as he wiped the tears that had fallen down her cheeks as he kissed her temple gently.

"I know," she stated as she turned in his arms so that she could lay her head on his chest. The beating of his heart helped calm her down. That was when she sat the cart of food that he had wheeled in moments earlier.

"Hungry?" he inquired as he saw her eyes widen into a smile. The nightmare was quickly pushed out of her mind.

"Starving," she nodded as she sat up while allowing the sheet to pool at her waist. Her modesty was from the previous day was completely gone for the moment. How could she feel anything put proud at the lustful way that he looked at her? She knew that if he had been a little less hungry that breakfast would have waited, but it was too hard to ignore both of their rumbling stomachs. He quickly pulled the cart closer to them and handed her a flaky croissant, which she eagerly accepted and began eating.

Neither spoke for several minutes as they gobbled up the delicious food he had order.

"When was the last time either of us has eaten?" she asked finally as the hunger pains in her stomach finally subsided as the food made its way to her stomach.

"I was trying to figure that out as I ordered breakfast," he replied, "I think it was before you came upon me outside the hotel."

"That was almost twenty-four hours ago," she laughed as her eyes sparkled in amusement.

"Seventeen," he corrected her, "But it explains why we demolished this cart."

"Maybe we should have snacked on those macaroons last night," she laughed as she pulled him towards her as she surveyed the demolished food cart. There were a few scraps of food left, but not much.

"Speaking of which," he prompted her as he handed her the wrapped boxes, "Are you ever planning on opening them?"

"If you ever stop distracting me, I might," she laughed as he began kissing her neck again, his hands skimming the bare flesh of her sides and back. The packages fell into her lap again as her arms went around him to pull him closer. He pulled away reluctantly and then handed one of the boxes to her again.

He really wanted to see her reaction to the gifts. She began to unwrap the first box he handed her, the macaroons. She chuckled as she took a bite of one before offering the rest to him, both enjoying the taste of her favorite treat as he handed her the next box, the silk stockings that he adored. She smirked as he ran his hand down her bare thigh.

"I do adore them," he stated, "But if I have to choose, I choose you in none at all."

"What a surprise," she laughed as she leaned forward to capture his lips, "You prefer any woman in nothing at all."

"Once upon a time, I would agree with you," he smirked devilishly as he brushed a piece of hair behind her ear and away from her face, "But not anymore."

"What's changed?" she asked skeptically as he caressed her cheek softly as his eyes softened.

"We've changed," he replied as he traced her collarbone with his finger. Goosebumps began to raise up from her skin at the gentle sensation. This tenderness was going to take a little getting used to. "Or perhaps I've changed. I only want you. I tried to find other outlets . . . other women. In the end, only you can ignite the fire in me, and I'm done fighting that."

"Chuck Bass is a romantic, who knew," she smirked playfully.

"Now you do," he laughed as he recalled the previous time she had said those words to him and his response.

"Please tell me we aren't going to take things slow this time," she pleaded.

"I think we're sixteen hours past slow," he laughed lightly as he looked at the rumbled bed sheets they were laying on, "But we are going to do things right this time."

"Promise," she requested.

"Yes, I promise," he nodded. She smiled as he leaned in to kiss her. Chuck Bass kept his promises, perhaps not to other people, but always to her.

"Do I get the other package," she inquired as she pulled away.

"Yes," he nodded as he took a shaky deep breath. This was the moment of truth. He couldn't hide from her. From this moment forward she would know just how much she meant to him. "I should warn you, it's not actually from my trip to Italy. It just occurred to me while I was in Italy that I should give this to you."

She nodded as she accepted the last package, smiling at the nervous shake of his hands. Only she could elicit that type of uncertainty in him.

"Chuck!" she gasped as she unwrapped the gift and pulled the lid off the box. Inside was a plaid printed silk scarf . . . the scarf he had worn for so many years . . . his signature scarf.

Her reaction confused him at first as she sat there in stunned silence. Did she realize what it was? Suddenly the box was thrown aside onto the bed as she threw her arms around him. The movements had him falling backwards onto the soft pillows behind him. She knew.

"I take it you like it," he laughed softly as she began nibbling on his neck.

"You gave me the one thing that has always seemed defined who you were," she nodded against his neck, "It's been a part of you for so long."

"And now it's a part of you, just like my heart is," he responded.

"Are you sure you want me to have this," she asked as she reached out to grasp the silk in the box, "It's your signature."

"My signature of my playboy days," he nodded, "Those days are over. I want you to keep the scarf. If you feel that I may stray, I want you to pull it out and wave it my way. That will be my cue to assure you how committed I am to you."

"This is so much better than a heart pinned to a stupid sweater sleeve," she stated as she pulled the scarf around her neck, enjoying the feel of it against her bare skin.

"Don't mock the heart pin," he scolded her as he grabbed both ends and used it to pull her closer to him, "I full intend to receive that pin from you in the near future. I know what that pin means to you. You first gave it to Nate, and then . . . Marcus."

"I never actually gave it to Marcus," she confessed, smirking at the hesitation in his voice at having to mention the stupid British lord that she had foolishly dated, "I slipped it on his sleeve when he wasn't looking so that you'd see it. I took it back as soon as you left."

"I'm glad to hear that," he responded as he let out a breath he hadn't realized that he'd been holding, "It means more then."

She leaned in and kissed him in reassurance.

"You will give it to me, won't you?" he inquired as he pulled away.

"As soon as I find the perfect sweater to sew it into," she nodded.

"You mean when you find the perfect sweater to have Dorota sew it into," he teased.

"No, as soon as I find the perfect sweater to sew it into," she repeated, "I sewed it into Nate's sweater, and I'll sew it into yours, all by myself."

"I look forward to the day that I can wear it," he smirked as he rolled her under him as he slide the robe from his body all in the same motion, "I love you, Waldorf."

"I love you too, Bass," she smirked as they proceeded to make love.

TBC. . .