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

"Blair, what is the deal with these costumes?" Chuck began to ask each time he stepped into their closet. The sight had been bugging him since he'd first noticed them hanging in there.

"You'll find out soon enough," she assured him once again as she instructed him to put on the warmest clothes that he could find.

"You know the Santa suit is the warmest thing that I have in here," Chuck pointed out as he reached for the hanger that held the suit.

"Except that," she stated as she swatted his hand away.

"Come on, Blair, I'll play Santa, and you can put on that naught little Mrs. Claus costume that I'm loving so much, and we can play," he grinned seductively as she came up behind him clad in her red wool dress and white silk stockings.

"Since when do you like role playing?" she inquired curiously. He'd never shown any interest in costumes even as they dressed for their Halloween party when she dressed as a sexy vampire as he dressed as Dracula. It was only after they had removed the costumes and false teeth that he began his seduction of her than evening.

"There is something about you as Mrs. Claus that I can't resist," he stated as his hands rubbed her sides gently.

"Maybe later," she purred as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

"Maybe now," he responded as his hands began to roam underneath the hem of her dress to her thigh were he began searching for the edge of her stockings . . . he frowned at the realization that there wasn't one, she was wearing tights. That was proving to be most difficult. He could entice her in thigh high stockings, but tights required more effort and also gave her the chance to pull away as she was doing.

"Later," she scolded as she slid out of his grasp and dashed out of the closet before he could regain his hold on her. "Get dressed," she called out to him from their bedroom.

He reached out for the Santa suit once more intent on teaching her a lesson.

"In anything other than the Santa suit," she called out to him just as he had grasped the hanger.

"I need to come up with some new tricks," he grumbled as he found a suitable charcoal wool suit, which was now the second warmest thing in his closet and dressed in it. His current bag of tricks was becoming too obvious if she could anticipate his move.

Chuck couldn't understand why they were leaving the penthouse so late in the evening. It was nearly ten o'clock, too early for any decent nightclubbing, but far too late for any family activity as had been there routine these past few days as she was intent on him experiencing a true NYC Christmas.

"Do I have to pull out the picture of you on Santa's lap?" Blair inquired as she forced him inside the limo as he tried to protest having to leave so late. All he had wanted to do was lie in front of the fireplace that evening and make love to her as they had been doing for most of the day already.

He was starting to dread having ever posed for that stupid picture the previous day. She was going to use that as blackmail for the rest of his life, and it would always work. His reputation couldn't take that big of a hit.

"Ice skating," he groaned as they approaching the rink at Rockefeller Center with the famed largely lit tree serving as their backdrop. "You want me to strap two blades to my feet and try to glide around on a slippery surface with other people around that I could possibly injure. Do you know what type of liability suit I'd have on my hands if I so much as nix someone? I can't even skate, Blair."

"I know," she responded as she pulled him towards the rink that was completely empty. He didn't know much about Rockefeller Center's ice skating policies, but he was pretty sure that they didn't rent it out for private events. She must have been reading his mind because she whispered into his ear, "They'll close anything for Chuck Bass."

He chuckled as she guided him forward. She was starting to use his name to get what she wanted. He loved that new piece of information.

"Seriously, Blair, I can't skate," he repeated as he laced up his rented skates and started to venture close to the actual ice. The nerve of her expecting him to use anything that was rented. He felt his stomach do a disgusted flip as he slid his first foot into the skate. He was sure he was going to get some disgusting foot disease from this.

She was already on the ice, gliding like a professional in her very own pair of ice skates that she had brought with for the evening, doing figure eights and skating backwards. Luckily he didn't have to worry about wounding any poor souls on the ice, but he did have to worry about wounding his pride and backside. He had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to be sore in the morning.

"Don't worry," she assured him as she glided towards him and took his hands as he stepped gingerly onto the ice. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"Famous last words," he grinned as he felt himself slip slightly when she began to pull him forward. She stopped quickly and held him tight so that he could regain his balance.

"Okay, we'll take this slow," she stated as she spun around so that he could put his hands on her hips as she began to glide forward so that he could get used to the feel of the ice. His hands held her tighter as she picked up a little bit of speed. She could sense his apprehension by the tightening of his grip on her hips so she slowed down.

She stopped suddenly and spun around again taking her hands in his as he stood awkwardly on the skates. He knew that any sudden movements on his part would send him hurling towards the hard ice. He concluded it was best if he not move a muscle.

Blair began fighting an internal struggle to not laugh at the cute expression of terror on his face when she told him to push off with his right foot. "No," he gritted through his teeth as he tried his hardest to not move an ounce.

"Chuck, I have you. I'm not going to let you fall," she tried to assure him as she shook his hands slightly. She saw him wince at the sudden movement.

"Promise," he gritted out.

"I promise," she nodded, "Move as if you were shuffling across hardwood floored in socked feet."

"Bass men do not shuffle," he growled defensively.

"Well one will today," she chuckled as she waited patiently. One way or another she was going to get him to move. They were on the other side of the ice from where they had started, and she had no intentions of pushing him back. He was either going to try skating, or he was going to crawl on his hands and knees across the ice. If he chose the latter, she had her cell phone in her coat and she intended to use it to collect more blackmailing material.

Chuck groaned as he took a tentative step forward. It was an awkward step but he didn't feel as if he was going to fall down, so he was making progress. Blair was with him with each step he took, gliding backwards in front of him. He slipped a few times, but she was always there to catch him and hold him until he found his balance.

Once he had safely returned to where they had started, he stepped off the ice and instructed her to go do her thing. Clearly she was much more advanced than he was, and he wanted her to enjoy her time on the ice. After looking for some assurance that it was okay that she left him there, she stepped back towards the ice and began gracefully gliding across it. She was like a ballerina on the ice, spinning around and doing simple leaps as she went. She had a gigantic smile on her face each time she went past him.

This was more fun for him than the nerve wracking few minutes he spent on the ice with her. The operator of the rink came to stand next to him to admire the show.

"Is she your girlfriend?" the older man asked.

Chuck nodded his head proudly in confirmation.

"She's really good," he stated, "Has she taken lessons?"

"I don't think so," Chuck replied with a slight frown. Surely she would have mentioned to him if she had.

"She a natural," the man mused as he turned and went back to cleaning up after the long day.

"Of course she is," Chuck smirked to himself, "She's Blair Waldorf."

"Are you finished?" Chuck asked as Blair skated back to him after skating for almost twenty minutes. Her breath was coming out in large gasps, which turned into white clouds as it hit the cold night air.

"Yes," she nodded as she accepted his hand as he helped her off the ice, "That is so much fun. I always feel like I'm flying."

"You looked like you were flying," he added as she sat down and began to unlace her skates, "Have you ever taken lessons?"

"No," she shook her head, "Not unless you count the ones my father gave me. He loved the Ice Capades."

"Of course he did," Chuck smirked.

"Chuck," she scolded him.

"You said it, not me," he defended himself, "I was just agreeing with you."

"I know what you're thinking," she glared at him.

"I wasn't thinking anything other than the fact that he loved the Ice Capades like you said," he responded.

"Do you have a problem with my father being gay?" Blair inquired. There wasn't any hint of an accusation in her voice.

"Of course not," Chuck scoffed, "He's your father."

"Good," she replied as she smiled happily as she stoop up and hugged him.

"Where did this question come from?" he asked curiously as his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Do you have a problem with your father being gay?" he asked curiously.

"Not as long as he's happy," she began.

"But," he prompted her as he heard the hesitation in her voice.

"I love my father, and I've come to care a great deal about Roman, but part of me wishes that Daddy would get this out of his system and come home. It sounds stupid when I say it out loud because Eleanor has already remarried and is very happy, but I want my family back to the way it was. Is that so wrong?"

"No," he assured her, "It's perfectly normal for any child that has to deal with divorce. They always want their parents to get back together."

"Sometimes I think that it was my fault that they got divorced. If I could have done something different, been more perfect or more beautiful, he would have stayed," she replied tearfully.

"Blair, you couldn't possibly be more beautiful or perfect," he assured her as he pulled her into his arms and held her close.

"For the most part, I know it wasn't my fault," she replied as she inhaled his scent, "But that small little girl that idolized her dad doesn't."

"I know," he replied as he held her close, "If it makes you feel better, I'll never leave you for a model, male or female."

She began laughing at his successful attempt to lighten the mood. "I love you, you motherchucker," she stated as she hit his shoulder.

"You haven't called me that in so long," he grinned widely, "I was beginning to miss it."

"Motherchucker," she whispered into his ear seductively.

"What do you say we go home and have you slip into that Mrs. Claus costume," he responded suggestively.

"You read my mind," she replied as she reached up to kiss him passionately.

TBC. . .