Disclaimer: I own nothing except a great love for CB and the many inhabitants of the UES

A/N: Another update for you guys and this ones a little different. Some down time for our favorite couple…away from the angst and multitude of worries. Thank you as always for the wonderful thoughts on the last C/B filled chapter. Glad you guys are still in this with me. If you can't tell while reading I had a friggin ball writing this chapter and hope you have just as much reading. Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Love always for Wifey and the girls.

This is dedicated to you Twinnie (ilmcr24) Happy Birthday again, hon.

Chapter 21ஐ

"Aren't you going to say anything?" She whispered.

Yes. Yes he would. The very moment that he remembered how to form actual words, he'd tell her anything that she damn well wanted to hear. Chuck barely took in the hint of classical music, wisping softly about the room. Or the fact that Blair had overcome her fears of the darkness, shutting off most of the lights in favor of the soft, blazing glow that blanketed the room.

There were dozens upon dozens of tealights, flickering and alive as they covered almost every surface in the room. More screens were situated around the room, obscuring the silent monitors that had been so critical, only days before, in tracking Blair's vitals. Someone had moved a small table into the room, laying out the perfect setting for a romantic dinner for two, complete with linen table cloth and matching silverware.

Layer upon layers. Chuck drank it all in, but he couldn't savor. No, not with the woman who was currently in the act of stealing away all of his senses. He'd thought her beautiful before but the soft light of the candles seemed to make her glow. Inside out. Sensual and innocent. That wonderful mix that'd tugged at him, stirring up forbidden wants even way back when she'd been his best friend's girl. Back before he could admit to even himself just how much he'd wanted her. Still wanted her. Only more. That want was something richer, more potent from all that they'd experienced. From the emptiness he'd felt over the past five years without be able to just talk to her. Have her mouth curve into that little smile. Just for him.

Half-choking on a gasping breath, Chuck reached for control, but it was a futile thing. He couldn't think, take his eyes off of her.

Her beautiful brown hair, hung down, loose about her shoulders and she was definitely not wearing one of the hospital gowns that she proclaimed unfit for homeless beggars. She no longer wore those jeans that'd clung to every singular curve, commanding his immediate attention. This time she'd slipped on a strappy, slip dress that flowed across pale flesh like water.

Waiting for his answer, she pouted, demanded his attention focus solely on that shining, painted mouth that begged for his kiss.

Uncertainty struck and those lips parted, trembling. Her eyes fell away from his face as she second guessed herself, making Chuck feel all kinds of asses. He started to speak, but it proved unnecessary as those eyes found him and he saw the exact moment when she realized just how deeply her effect on him ran. Smirking, those laughing brown eyes crept up ever so slowly. "I see."

"Amazing as ever, Waldorf." He finally murmured, enjoying the vivaciousness in her renewed confidence. She looked powerful. Ready to take on the world, starting with him.

Blair gripped the edge of the bed and started to move forward, making Chuck panic as her hand hovered a tad too close for comfort to those damn tealights.

"Blair, look out." Chuck warned, his heart in his throat and feet already moving faster than his train of thoughts.

"What's wrong?" She frowned, confused as he pulled her close. Realizing the cause of his sudden alarm, she couldn't help laughing. "Chuck, they're not real."

"What?"

Blair leaned away from him and rolled her eyes as he resisted, looping an arm around her waist. She reached out and lifted up the tealight to give him a closer look, "Flameless. Did you really think Nurse Hatchet and company wouldn't have put the kibosh on this whole thing if these were real?"

The tealight slapped lightly into his open palm. He glanced around the room again. It was the same but different from the one that he'd left an hour ago. Transformed with the romantic light. The antiseptic smell dimmed by the heavy scent of roses in the air. Roses that were still nowhere in sight.

He started to ask her about them, but decided not to press his luck. They didn't exactly have the best of track records when it came to the whole flowers and candy deal. Instead, Chuck let the candle slide from his palm and concentrated on the woman in his arms. "I can't believe you did all this."

"Well, I thought that maybe we could use a change of scenery and seeing as how I'm still stuck here." Blair shrugged, glancing from his face and around the cozy scene. Not quite what she'd envisioned, but wonderful nonetheless. His arms around her and dinner waiting on the table, she could close her eyes and pretend.

How easy would it be to picture themselves at home…except Blair had never laid eyes on his new place. She found herself conjuring a mix of the Van der Bass and Waldorf apartments, with them downstairs, their arms wrapped tightly about one another as they just danced, the children asleep upstairs in their bedrooms. Just them. Chuck and Blair. Blair and Chuck. Unwinding from the day, smiling together and letting horrors of the day wash away from them.

"Dorota?"

Her lashes fluttered as his query broke into her fantasy. "Dorota." She motioned to the room at large.

"Of course," He looked around again, "You know it's a good thing that you're moving in, because I don't think that I'd be giving her back."

"And just what makes you believe that you had any say in the matter?"

"The fact that Dorota happens to love me."

"She does not. She still thinks you're a spoiled ass." Blair informed him. "As recently as a few days ago."

"Dorota adores me."

"Perhaps," She agreed, her tone grudging before adding quickly, "when you're not being an ass."

"Oh, some credit."

His brown-eyed girl peered up at him, her arms loose about his neck. "Fine, I'll admit. You've shaped up quite nicely in your old age."

"Old age? Let's not forget that you're the cradle-robber here, Waldorf." He hissed, pulling her close. "And speaking of shaping up…"

His meaning didn't sink in immediately. She was too busy, occupied by other matters driving her to distraction. The flutter of his warm breath against her cheek. She could feel his heart beating against hers, they were so close, her softness pressing into the firm wall of his chest.

Chuck pulled back, watching her. A lazy, knowing smile tilting that mouth.

She rolled her eyes. The Basstard knew exactly what she was feeling. Then suddenly she knew or rather felt her effect on him. "Chuck," Beneath her horrified gasp lay the sound of pure feminine delight, distinct and shooting through him like pure adrenaline.

"Be careful, Waldorf," he warned. "Better not start anything that we can't finish…not unless you want to put on a floor show for the staff."

"You wish."

"And you know me well. Want to chance it? Could prove interesting." Chuck tempted, teasing her.

"And on that note, our food is getting cold and I'm starving."

"Me to," he murmured, his eyes drifting down to her mouth.

Okay, Waldorf, time to rein him in, Blair ordered her rebellious libido. Dorota. Now would be a good time for Chuck's ideal chaperone/bodyguard to put in an appearance. For once, he mused, no one came barging in and his phone remained silent. It was just them.

"Dinner, Chuck," she managed to get out. Her hands flattened against his chest and she gently pushed him away, fingers curling against the urge to sink in and pull him back.

"Fine. Wouldn't want to be accused of neglecting your needs."

Refusing to get anywhere near that one, Blair wordlessly dropped into the chair that he held out for her.

She shivered when he didn't move away immediately and take the seat across from her. Instead, his hands settled on her bare shoulders, fingertips skimming a slow path, igniting like liquid fire in her blood. Her lips parted of their own volition, a faint protest on the tip of her tongue. "Chuck…"

"Ssh,"

Blair would've sputtered or feigned indignation, if those fingers weren't searing a trail, the pad of his thumb massaging the quickening thrum of her pulse. Her nerveless hands were at her sides, as their eyes met. His expression was deadlier serious as his questing fingers ended their journey, his hand curving the against her jaw. Desire. She read it in his eyes easily enough, flaming and threatening to consume her.

The bathroom. They could duck into the bathroom and no one would know. Or fuck it. They were out of there. The twins were with Nate and Dorota was out on a date with her butler boyfriend. They'd have the apartment to themselves. Just for the night and they could sneak back to the hospital before anyone was the wiser. "Chuck…" She repeated his name, breathless.

He leaned down, catching her mouth in a soft kiss.

Automatically, her hands crept up, ready to sink into the silken threads of his dark hair, but he was already pulling away before they made it home.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For?"

"For this…tonight." Chuck settled into the seat across from her, the small span of the table between them a blessing and a nuisance. "Come on, Waldorf. Eat up and if you're good, maybe I'll have Arthur pick up dessert."

"Good, because I have this sudden craving for something cold and sweet." Blair motioned vaguely. "Rich, bittersweet…"

Brown eyes swept her face and body, before rising to meet hers. "Hmm, now that you mention it. I've got a taste for the same myself."

They both leaned in, fingers meeting and brushing lightly across the table and their faces cast in dancing shadows and light. She smiled sweetly, "Could you ask Arthur to make sure it's not all melted and disgusting this time?"

With that she sank back against the chair and swept the silver covers up.

"She certainly outdid herself on such short notice, but then again it's Dorota." Blair made a soft sound in protest when he brushed her hand away, "Hey, what do you think you…"

"Oh, simmer down, Waldorf. I'm playing the gentleman, in case you hadn't noticed."

She smiled, watching him. Enjoying the idea of him doing something as simple as serving her, taking care of her. It inspired the same feeling as having him hold her late at night. Well, she reasoned, almost all of the same feelings. Despite how much she hated being stuck in the hospital, those hours in the night when they'd just talk or lay there, those hours were pure heaven.

How would they change, once they left this place? She knew that he wouldn't be able to stay with her indefinitely. Everything was slow with the holidays, but New Year's Eve was the day after tomorrow. Then next week, it would be back to life and business as usual for the Bass family.

Chuck would need to go back to work, even more. The twins would be in school. Serena had her work at the magazine. Eleanor was back in London even now preparing for her move back to the States, but her mother still had every intention of running her design house as efficiently as possible, Atlantic ocean, notwithstanding.

Her thoughts drifted, suffocating as she wondered at her place in it all. She'd do the rehab thing but then what was she supposed to do. Her mother had accused her of trying to pick up where she'd left off but how could that be even the remotest of possibilities.

Yale was gone. At one point, that would've sent her straight over the edge. She'd clung to her dream of attending even when she'd been hugely pregnant, making plans to have it all. She waited for the devastation to hit, but it never did. Blair only felt calm acceptance. Losing Yale meant little in the face of all else she'd missed out on.

"Hey, eat up, Waldorf."

Blair blinked rapidly, focusing on the man across from her. The man who was digging into the plateful of spaghetti with gusto. "Hungry?"

"Utterly famished."

She savored the taste of real food on her tongue for the first time in days. The fries she'd stolen from Eric the day before didn't really count. They'd still come from the hospital cafeteria and were therefore to be considered "hospital fare." Wine. Wine would've made a good companion but instead Dorota had put her foot down, leaving them plastic cups and grape juice. "What about your business lunch?"

"Emphasis on business, Waldorf."

"From your attitude I take it that things went as you'd hoped."

"Better."

Something dark and unreadable clouded his expression. She frowned, "Everything okay?"

"What? Yeah." He nodded, not meeting her eyes. Chuck's gaze landed on everything in the room except her face. His expression appeared less troubled and more puzzled. "Where are the flowers?"

His meaning struck almost immediately, "Oh, right. I had Dorota take them away. It made the entire room reek…too reminiscent of a funeral parlor." She told him, suddenly very engrossed in the breadstick that she was systematically ripping into teeny pieces.

Chuck couldn't help himself or the smirk that erupted. Coma might have done a lot of things but it did nothing for the memory of their track record with something as simple as flowers. Maybe not so simple a gesture after all. "Of course."

They settled into easy conversation. Laughing together as Blair revealed their daughters' excitement over playing a trick on Daddy. He pretended great upset to have not one but all three of his girls joining forces to plot against him.

So that was the way it was going to be from now on. Blair and the twins putting their heads together to pull the wool over his eyes. It felt good. It brought an entire new reality to having her back. Having his family finally whole.

Careful not to mention his brief stopover at the private hospital, he gave her the highlights of his earlier business meeting. He wondered at her reaction when she found out about the surprise he had brewing for her. Just a few more days and all would be ready.

"You weren't kidding. I thought you'd eaten with the girls earlier." Blair shook her head, marveling at the heaping plate of spaghetti that was down to sauce and but a few curling strands of pasta streaking across the plate. "Wait, you got a little something…" She reached across the span of white cloth and brushed her thumb at the corner of his mouth, but he stopped her before she could pull back. He held her captured hands loosely before him.

"Hmm." The sound vibrated in his throat.

Air caught and held as she forgot to breathe and the tip of his tongue darted out and laved, swirling slowly. He suckled gently, lapping at the red sauce and their eyes holding and burning into one another. Blair was sure that she wouldn't have been able to look away even had it been her sole desire in the world. Disappointment flared when he released her, spreading in her blood and doing nothing to temper her body's desire for more. She wanted him to kiss her. Just like this. As if he was savoring every part of her.

"Delicious"

"If you weren't satisfied with your meal alone, you should've just said something. I would've been happy enough to share." She offered shakily, trying to steady herself. She pushed her own half-eaten dish between them.

He started to shake his head, but she captured the pasta on silver tines and held it to the flat line of his set, unsmiling mouth. "I'm not taking your food."

"Well, I can't eat it all on my own." Blair waited patiently for him to take the offering.

She was struck the sudden memory of herself, only years older if that than the twins. A time when she'd spend summer afternoons with Dorota. After a day at the park, they'd wait for either of the Waldorf parents to return, indulging in forbidden sweets and watching their favorite movie of the time, Lady & the Tramp. Looking back, Blair remembered that it was always her maid who'd pick that movie to watch. Sighing and her soft eyes going misty during the scene when the two canines shared their romantic alleyside meal of…spaghetti. The lovestruck twosome lingering over a single strand of spaghetti.

Even before she'd understood the romance of it all, Blair had loved it. Maybe partly because of how much her maid seemed to enjoy the scene. It was simple and child's play, setting her up for eventually falling in love with the very idea of love, long before she could understand the truth and complexities when it was the real thing.

Blair shook her head. Wondering if this was another of their old rituals that the old maid had resurrected for the twins. And had it been a subconscious thing or had that remembered scene played out in Dorota's mind when she'd chosen this particular meal and setting for Blair's last minute surprise dinner "date."

Between the two of them, they made quick work of finishing Blair's dinner. Having decided that it might be best if they stuck to strictly innocent topics, she steered the lingering strands of conversation continuously back to Bass Industries and the girls. Well, mostly the girls. With anything else, Chuck seemed to have a talent for taking something innocuous and twisting and bending it into something new and sensual. Sure he played the innocent but the fire in his eyes, said that the Basstard was doing his level best to drive her crazy.

Earlier with Serena, she'd pictured them enjoying a romantic dinner, but this was too much. Wrong time and wrong place, she reminded herself.

Innocent. Sweet. Not sex. She searched her mind. She'd wanted to dance with him but thought it best that they keep the length of the table in between them for a while longer. At least until she—er they had their baser instincts back under control. Blair thought of the DVD. She'd wanted nothing more than to watch it with him, but after his earlier reaction, Blair was afraid to bring it up.

She wanted to ramp down the sexual energy, not completely kill the night's magic and ease.

Still she was completely unprepared for her own words as she suggested they switch on the Knicks' game. Though at first surprised, Chuck, smug bastard was just as savvy and aware of what she was up to.

The game was already into its second quarter and time flew and yet stood still. Over the next few hour, Blair had fun peppering him with questions and he did a good job of not getting annoyed, no really annoyed, anyway.

"So he's the goalie, right?"

Eyes rolling skyward, Chuck swallowed a groan. "B, that's not what it's called."

"But didn't he lose a point for tending his goal."

"That's not how the game works. And it's goal-tending."

"Same difference."

"Not quite." Chuck explained. Again. "Wrong game, Blair. For the last time. There are no goalies. No flags on the play or two-point conversions. It's a period, not quarter."

"What about the penalty box…" She cleared her throat, hiding a laugh. "That guy clearly elbowed the other one in blue."

She could tell that she was wearing on him. He'd been indulgent with her most outrageous comments, taking them in stride. Chuck closed his eyes, "They're on the same team and you're mixing sports. Maybe we should watch something else."

"No!" Blair shook her head, "I mean. Come on, Bass. I'm having fun."

He turned on her, none of the irritation that she'd been expecting at this point. "So am I."

"You knew what I was doing?"

"Well, not at first, no." Chuck admitted, "But then I seemed to recall the fact that you dated a sport crazed best friend of mine for quite a few years. Besides that, you and Serena made us guys watch that Geena Davis flick more than enough times to pick up the broadstrokes. Like the fact that umpires are baseball…not basketball."

Blair laughed out loud, remembering those times. Nate and Serena both seemed to like the idea of the movie, Serena for the history and her first boyfriend had been all about sports even at that that time. Young Chuck had been entranced with all of the women in their ancient baseball outfits, especially dark-haired Madonna. He'd stated even then his preference for brunettes over blondes.

"Let's not forget the fact that I'm as much of a Daddy's girl as your daughters. Except my father was more into college football."

"Ah, yes, Harold. Of course."

Blair looked back at the TV, her eyes focused not on the sweating men that raced back and forth across the screen. Instead, her gaze filtered throughout the crowd as the fast play took them up and down the court. "Chuck, have you spotted the girls, yet? I haven't been able to." She had a sudden thought, "oh, they're in a box, aren't they?"

"No, B. Nate doesn't have them in a penalty box," he deadpanned.

Swatting at him from across the table, she huffed out her impatience, "I'm being serious now. Don't you have boxseats?

"Yes, but my father liked to be out in the crowd." For the first time that night, he pulled out his phone, drawing an instant protest from Blair.

"Hey!! Rule# 4, Bass…"

"This one's an exception." He switched on the speakerphone and soon there was an echo of noise filtering through the room that doubled the action from the television.

"Chuck? Is that you?" Nate shouted over the roaring crowd.

"Yea."

"What are you sneaking in a call while Blair's in the bathroom? Man, you are missing an amazing game."

"Actually, Nathaniel. We haven't missed a thing." She snagged the cell phone from Chuck's hand. "Number 14 has certainly had a good night. We were just wondering how you and the twins were enjoying the game."

"They're having fun. Stuffing their faces." Nate laughed, but quickly amended. "Don't worry I'm about to cut them off. I'm not getting yelled at by Dorota again for letting them eat themselves sick."

"They should be fine, Nathaniel. Just no more hotdogs…I'm sure they've had enough to last the decade. Or next month. Whichever comes first." Chuck joked, stopping short as he felt Blair's eyes on him. "Look, I'd better let you get back to the game. B just wanted to check in with Evie and Kat."

"Hey, did you w…"

Nate's words were lost as Chuck murmured a quick goodbye. He held up his hand when Blair would've spoken, asking why he'd hung up so quickly.

"Blair, I know what you're going to say…it's been nearly a decade but I remember the entire lecture word for word. I can assure you that they haven't been doused in toilet water or bought wholesale from some hobo on the street."

She was quiet, visibly digesting his words.

"Well," He said after the silence stretched and her expression grew more and more incredulous. "Would you say something?"

"Fine." Blair nodded, expression deadly serious. "What the hell are you talking about? Toilet water and hobos?"

He looked at her in surprise, "Wait. My ears rang for a good hour and a half after your little tirade, Waldorf. For godsakes, I couldn't see a vendor on any street corner without remembering that day. And you don't remember?"

"I wasn't that bad."

"You were terrifying." Chuck told her, "The vendor looked ready to cut and run."

"I remember exactly what you're talking about." She made a face. "The man was absolutely filthy and the cart didn't look much better. You should be glad that I went with Nate to grab a soda or you idiots would've probably have dropped dead from food poisoning or something." Blair huffed, impatient as she still wondered at his point. "Aw, did I scar you for life or something?"

"And you sound so very pleased about that prospect."

"Don't begrudge me my entertainment, Bass."

"Wouldn't dare it." His cell phone buzzed.

"Rules still apply."

"Of course. It's not for me, though."

She frowned as he held the phone out to her. A photo text message of the girls in mid-whoop and cheer. "Aw, remind me to kiss Nate the next I see him."

Chuck snorted, "You'll have to beat me to it, Waldorf. Listen. I just want to say that I've tried to do everything that I thought you'd want when it came to raising the girls…from having Dorota make them hotdogs from scratch to never missing a single soccer practice or tap recital."

"You're a good Daddy Chuck. I know that," She reached out and covered fisted hand with one of hers. "I guess I should tell you though…that I never thought to have Dorota make them for me. Quick thinking on your part."

"What do you mean for you? If I recall correctly, you mentioned something about hell freezing over and pain of death all those years ago." Chuck teased.

"Well, I'm sorry but your daughters changed the rules on me…so in a sense hell did ice over but maybe only temporarily. They're called cravings. Thank god it was nothing too extreme."

"And I missed it. Damn. Blair Waldorf mixing it up with toilet water and hobos."

"For the record, Bass, I did not go to one of those disgusting carts." She insisted, adding quickly, "Jenny brought them to me from Gray's Papaya."

"The Westside. For shame. And here I thought I knew you."

"Don't make me hit you."

No sooner than the words left her mouth that Chuck was dodging bits of broken breadstick that were being lobbed at his head.

"I'm not talking to you anymore, Bass. Besides you're making me miss the quarter." She smiled as he started to correct her, only to stop himself. "Are you having fun yet?"

"You have no idea."

Despite her better intentions, the twosome ended up curled together in her hospital bed as each other night before. Well-fed and comfortable, they were both too engrossed in the back and forth of the basketball game to revisit the sex-starved fog that had ruled them both, earlier in the night. Fingers threaded through his, they smiled together over the numerous texts and pictures that began trickling through his cell phone not long after that first.

Her entire body languid and happy, Blair didn't realize that she was falling asleep until she was half-way there. She fought to shake off the leaden weight that seemed to be tugging at her curling lashes.

"Go to sleep, Blair." Chuck said, brushing his mouth against her temple. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Wanted to dance with you." She said drowsily, resting her head against his shoulder and her palm lying flat against his chest. "S smuggled the stereo in and everything."

"Another night."

Her eyes drifted shut, but she was still resistant to letting go and allowing the darkness to pull her away from him. She didn't want to rest. There was so much more to be done. Like dancing with Chuck. Watching the rest of the game with him. Feeling normal for once. "Another night?"

"Yeah. Promise," he told her, "Besides, you've had more than enough excitement for one evening, I think."

Blair found herself still talking, words rasping up her throat, heavier than before and lingering with sleep. Her face perked, showing excitement despite her closed lids as she exclaimed, "Hey…do you know. This could be our first official date."

He lay there, listening to the even sound of her breathing. Holding on to her until her body relaxed and melting against him. Their first date? After everything…that was what this was? It boggled the senses.

He smiled realizing that it was nothing that he would've expected. Nothing he would've thought to plan. Then again when was that ever the case for them. She'd wanted to dance. The only missing piece to the romance of the moment that she'd crafted for them.

Chuck supposed that he'd have to see about remedying that as soon as possible.

ஐTBCஐ

A/N: And there you have it. CB's first almost not quite date. Hope you like it. And gotta give a special thanks to my good friend Brennan who let me pepper him with the most idiotic of sports questions…I know some stuff ;) but not all and wanted confirmation. Sorry if the transitions weren't as smooth from one moment to the next but didn't want to divert from all things CB with other characters and drama in this chapter just to get from one beat to the next. Thought we could all do with some downtime right along with our couple. Hope you guys enjoyed this one and as always let me know what you're thinking. Love you all and will update asap. *kiss*

Courtneyஐ