AN: I'm back! And now I know what to do. Thank you for your patience.

Part 10

The room that Eleanor had provided for him left nothing much to be desired. It was simple and sparse, less luxurious than his suite, but it was neat and rich like a Waldorf guestroom could be. Yet even with the impressive plasma tv that gleamed inside, Chuck still found himself returning to her room only a half hour after he left her.

She sat in the center of her bed, scribbling in her notebook, with three textbooks surrounding her. She looked up when he opened the door. Chuck's heart warmed at her small smile. She turned back to her notes, and he walked inside and settled on the bed beside her. He picked up one of the books.

"Are we studying?" he asked, immediately including himself in whatever activity she had planned.

Blair cocked her head. "When are you coming back to school? You do plan to go back."

He recognized the slight challenge in her eyes. "On Monday." And he figured it would be easy to get someone to contact St. Jude's to let them know that the wealthiest kid in New York was going to attending school again in a few days.

"Then we should study," Blair said matter-of-factly.

He grimaced. It was not the way he wanted to spend the first day he was back with her. "No, then we should go out and do something. Monday's coming soon enough." He offered his hand, and gave her an inviting smile. She looked down at his hand and gave an imperceptible nod.

Blair placed her hand in his, and closed his over hers. "Alright, Waldorf. We've got time for a little fun in our lives before I have to be trapped in school again."

She was still dressed in the clothes she had worn to the hospital, and the sweater he had put on after finding it in the guestroom—which was likely one of Harold's old ones—was out of style but still looked expensive enough to be seen in. If someone asked, not that anyone would, it would be easy to say it was vintage anyway.

He opened her closet and drew out a yellow scarf, then wrapped it around her neck. January would freeze them both if they were not prepared, and the stark blackness of her outfit needed a pop of bright sunshine. He searched her closet for another one. Then, she sidled up to him and opened a small handkerchief drawer. She drew out the red scarf that had been a favorite of his during their failed attempt at a secret affair.

"So you have it."

"It was so you, I kept it just to spite you," was her easy answer. But the way she carefully knotted it around his neck, and the way her fingers splayed over the ends of it as she gave a final pull, told him there were many reasons she kept the accessory, and spite was not one of them.

Telling Eleanor that he would be taking Blair out was less difficult than he had been ready for. The woman was surprisingly accommodating, and even appeared gleeful that her daughter was going out, even if it was to waste time walking around with Chuck.

"We missed Christmas this year," Blair said.

There was something about Brooklyn that seemed safe to them right then, and so that was where they asked the limo driver to let them off. He would return, once Chuck sent him a message. For now, the two of them were going to be anonymous as they wandered a large looming mall that neither had been to before.

Chuck barely remembered Christmas. It had been shortly after he arrived in Bangkok, and by then he was too deep in depression and too drunk to realize it was Christmas. Of course, being in a non-Christian city helped a lot in forgetting.

"I want Christmas with you," she continued. "And that would be just a little less than a year away, if we can last that long."

His chest swelled at the knowledge that she thought there was a 'we,' and that there was something that could last. He tugged at her hand so she would fall into step closer to him. "Longer," came his assurance. "No doubt about it."

She looked up at him, and came up with a suggestion that was at the tip of his tongue. He was grateful she said it so he would not have to. "Today's Christmas," she proposed.

With those words, he could immediately imagine the scent of chestnuts and ham. "Christmas in January isn't too bad."

Around them, people milled about in their Brooklyn outfits. Blair pulled off her coat, and even her dress alone was probably more money than the clothes put together of the half dozen girls who walked by and looked her up and down. Blair sucked in her breath, and he could see the flicker of offense on her face. He was not the only reason she purged. In fact, many of the instances before stemmed from the ridiculously low amount of self-esteem she possessed, which could not even compare to the amount she should have. He itched to tell the girls off, but Blair had blinked and turned to him.

"I'm going to get you a present," she said. "Meet me back here in one hour."

"One hour to pick a present?" he exclaimed in disbelief. She obviously did not comprehend how difficult it was for him to rack his brains for a gift, especially when he doubted there was anything on hold at the jeweler's. "Two," he thought, even though he had no idea what he wanted to get her.

"Best present wins the game," she threw in.

And then she was gone, and Chuck was left standing there alone. The mall was large, very unfamiliar. But he had to admit, it had been the perfect place to take her, because there was a lot less chance of running into someone they knew.

She seemed so excited, and Chuck next saw her half an hour later waving at him from the glass elevator.

For that one moment, when she was grinning as the elevator ascended, and he was left looking up at her from the ground floor, the entire trip had been worth it. Drunk and drugged, he would not have seen the smile in her eyes from that distance. She was practically thrumming with excitement. He should have known it would be a shopping activity that would ultimately bring her out of her shell. She was on the go, and if she knew perfectly well what she would be getting for him.

She would take that energy with her in everything he saw for her. In the future.

Blair Bass. Whoever claimed alliteration made for brilliant poetry was a genius in his own right.

And suddenly he knew the perfect gift for Christmas. She would wear it, but really, it would be the best gift he could give himself.

In front of the fountain, near where she had declared the two hour-long battle, he waited. It was highly possible that she would think his gift was the most amazing thing she had ever seen, or the stupidest thing he had ever done.

And she came strolling towards him with a large gift-wrapped box in hand. He went up to her to take it, but she held up her hand and said, "You can't see it yet."

"I was going to help you with it," he parried.

Blair shook her head. "It's not heavy." She searched his empty hands. "Do you have a present for me?"

His lips curved. Behind them, the indoor fountain water sputtered and jumped, and he could feel some spray on his back. "You want to trade presents here?"

She looked around her where people minded their own business, entered stores around them and left with bags. Blair Waldorf had been in the mall and she had not even picked up any of the inexpensive dresses available there. Chuck thought in amusement how she probably combed through the racks and imagined herself and Serena wearing those bargain outfits.

"Why not here? We're in Brooklyn. No one will see."

Blair shrugged, then placed down her gift. She extended her hand. Chuck smiled, then took the small box from his pocket. Blair's hand fisted, then rested to her side.

"What's wrong?"

She frowned, staring at the box in Chuck's hand. "You're not serious."

And somehow those words stung more than they should have. "What do you think?"

"This won't fix your life. I hope you don't think this will fix everything," she said softly.

Chuck lifted the box and unsnapped the lid. He looked down at the large diamond that he had seen only in old pictures that surfaced after his father's death. Right before the funeral, when Lilly had been searching through Bart's office, she had found a small box in his bottom drawer—old pictures of Chuck's parents from right before they had him. And in that box, right at the bottom, covered by the photos—the engagement ring.

He set his jaw, then offered her the ring. And he said, "Merry Christmas."

"Chuck—"

"Did I ask you to fix anything?"

Slowly, she reached for the box, then peered at the diamond ring. Her breath released in a long stream. She did not recognize the design in any current line. And so she deduced, "This is vintage." Blair plucked the ring from the velvet bed. "It's gorgeous."

He nodded, then showed her the inscription inside. 1986. He leaned and whispered in her ear. "Something this important deserves to be on someone so important."

Blair's eyes fluttered closed at the realization of who had worn the ring last. "But we're eighteen," came her soft protest.

"Does it matter?" he asked. She swallowed, her eyes glittering as she looked back up at him. "We know what's going to happen in the future. We have no interest in going out with other people, or even lesser copies of who we are. Let's just do this now while we're waiting."

"1986. That's when your father proposed?"

"We'll have it reset another time."

"Or we won't," she said. She watched him slowly slide the ring on her finger. "We can just have them inscribe 2009 at the side."

His eyes narrowed, and he hid a wicked smile. "You think this is a proposal, Blair? I thought this was a Christmas gift." Blair blinked, and she opened her mouth to speak. He shook his head, then tugged at her hand again, bringing her closer. There were billions of words in hundreds of languages, and Chuck knew exactly what it was he wanted to say. But it took so long to form the words, he was afraid he would sound hesitant when he was not. "I know we're not ready for a family," he capitulated. "And I know we're eighteen, and you want Yale." She turned her gaze away at that, and he wondered why. She had always been so hellbent on it. "I know I'm coming back to my life with a company to run and no idea how to do it." He sighed. "But after we're done growing up—and at the rate we're going it doesn't look like it would take too long—it would still be us."

She smiled, still looking down at the box at her feet. "Because we're inevitable?"

Those words were his, memorable to him because he had used it veiled as a taunt and a warning when she was stubbornly denying what was so obvious. "Won't it be easier to acknowledge that now?"

She looked down at the ring on her finger. "So I'm not your girlfriend, but someday we're getting married?" she clarified.

He lifted her chin up so he could place a brief kiss on her lips. Then, he rested his forehead on hers. "I don't know," he said hoarsely, "if I can ever say you're my girlfriend. Not even close. I hate that word." He took her hand and placed on his chest. "It's such a shallow little term for this."

And he swore that when she exhaled, he could almost see the tension leave her body, could almost feel the heaviness on his fingertips. "You didn't really propose." She laughed softly. "But I'm agreeing anyway, so I think you have a politician's tongue."

The somber look on his face collapsed, and he laughed. "You think your gift can beat mine?"

He looked down at the box at their feet, and noted the small holes that he had not noticed before. He fell down to his knees, which now he recognized as something he should have probably done when he gave her his gift. He turned the gift and saw it was completely uncovered in one side.

"Merry Christmas."

His heart stopped at the sight. He opened the small gate and reached inside.

"He's three months old," Blair said.

Chuck's hand connected with the soft fur and he pulled it out. It was a Labrador retriever, with a light cream coat and pink nose. And it was asleep. He cradled it against his chest, and the puppy nuzzled its nose in Chuck's sweater. Chuck looked back at Blair in awe. He opened his mouth, but found no words.

"Look at his tag."

At there, hanging from the choker, was a nameplate. Chuck read, "Baby." He blinked, then looked up at Blair. "You gave me a dog named Baby." He grimaced. "That is by far the cheesiest thing you've ever thought of Waldorf."

Blair flushed, then ran her hand down the puppy's back. "But you love it," she parried.

"But I love you," he corrected. A dog. He never had a dog in his life. He never thought he'd want a dog. Baby would probably pee on the carpet, scratch at the furniture, and demand food, water, and to be walked. He would need to make sure he had enough dog food and milk for Baby. Chuck was going to have to keep a schedule. And then he was sure Blair would want to see the puppy too, maybe take the puppy to the park. He glanced up at her, then shook his head. "There's a reason you're running for valedictorian, you know."

She looked up in surprise, and then she shrugged. "I hope you like my gift, but you obviously won."

"I think you won. You've got Chuck Bass walking around with a dog."

Her face suddenly appeared concerned. "Do you think you can keep Baby in the Palace? I think they have rules."

Chuck snorted. "I'm Chuck Bass," he declared. Chuck craned his neck as he looked around the Brooklyn mall. He placed Baby back inside his carrier, then picked it up. Involuntarily, Blair reached up and brushed off the fur that remained on Chuck's sweater. His hand closed around one of hers as he walked with her. "We've got to buy some food for Baby."

Blair's phone beeped first, then Chuck's followed only a few seconds later. They reached for their phones. Blair moistened her lips, then placed the phone back inside her bag.

"Blair," Chuck said slowly, "is this true?"

On his phone, there was a picture of Blair and Chuck's intimate moment in front of the fountain with her hand on his chest, and his forehead on hers.

Spotted—a pair of lovebirds canoodling outside the nest. Seems like the prodigal son of the UES has returned after a reportedly wild Bangkok break. Out of hiding. We have Blair Waldorf's first sighting since her shocking drop out of Constance Billard. Certainly looks like a warm welcome to me. Welcome home, C.

"I'm studying from home," Blair said, her voice turning cold. "It's not called dropping out."

He put down the dog carrier, then took her hand in his and squeezed. School was her entire life before him, before Eleanor started to care, before Cyrus arrived. This wasn't a decision lightly made. "What did they do to you?" he asked. Her friends, her backstabbing friends. It would just be them.

She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it."

Chuck sighed when she started walking quickly towards the pet store. He picked up Baby and hurried after her. No talking about the sessions, no talking about bulimia, and now, no talking about Constance. In fact, she had asked him when he was coming back, but did not indicate that she was not in school either. "Blair," he called out. "Blair, you have to start telling me these things."

She whirled around, her eyes narrowed. "No, I don't. If you don't like it, I can't do anything about it."

He was silent.

"Tell me now if you can't accept that." Her fingers were primed over the ring, and he knew she was prepared to give it back.

"Why are you making it hard?" he exploded.

"You've gotta go home. You're not cut out for this," he stressed. He leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed, and a tear dropped to her cheek.

"You're making it so hard," she whispered into his ear before he straightened.

"I'm making it so easy, Blair," he argued. "You're making it difficult on both of us."

He drew a long breath. Because he had done the same when he was so deep in his own depression he just wanted her to leave, so he could sink deeper and she wouldn't keep forcing him back up.

He was so damn thirsty.

"I need a drink," he bit out, fully aware that it was the one thing he could say that would jar her out of her own anger.

Her hands dropped to her sides, her face crumpling upon hearing the words. Blair walked over to him and looped her arm around his. "Let's just go home," she requested.

Chuck looked down at her hand clutching his arm, and noted the diamond winking at him. He took calming breaths as he walked with her to the exit. Later he would call the hotel and tell someone to have dog food prepared. For now, they needed to go home. Together.

That's what mattered.

tbc