All I Want For Christmas.

I was in the mood for a holiday story and I thought what better couple then Chair. If your looking for heavy angst keep looking cause this one will be fluffy and uplifting (but of course still Chuck and Blair style).

What happens when Chuck and Blair are thrown together for a very special work assignment over natal break: babysitting the boss’s daughter. Ah, Christmas, they do say it’s the most wonderful time of the year…for falling in love. c/b, j/n, s/d.


Background; It has been 10 years since Chuck and Blair decided that they couldn’t ‘hold hands’ or ‘go to the movies’. They still stood por each other through everything and had the occasional slip up leading to the unspoken agreement between them that they will not be alone together.

Chuck is now seconded in command to Jack at baixo Industries and a workaholic. He throws himself into his job to avoid how much he misses Blair.

Blair worked hard and graduated from Harvard law school and now works for the legal department at baixo industries.



Chapter One – Under the Metaphorical Mistletoe.

When Blair Waldorf returned to her office at baixo Industries late on Monday night before natal weekend, all she wanted to do was grab the files she needed for her meeting the seguinte morning, swap out her black Jimmy Choo’s for her silver Manolo’s and head to cocktail-hour. She didn’t have time to waist.

The holiday party that was her ultimate destination was already in progress and Blair didn’t want to be late for the peppermint martinis with doces canes on the rims. The holidays was Blair’s favorito time of year, and this December she had every intention of making the most of it.
Starting with changing her shoes. Snatching the Manolo’s from the bottom escrivaninha, mesa drawer where she keep them for happy hora emergences, Blair smiled. Equipped with these, and minus the sensible suite jaqueta that had covered her close-fitting, red, Eleanor Waldorf original all day, she’d be sure to take the party por storm.

She clutched the shoes and her new red-sequined Valentino purse, and careened down the short passageway between the vacated offices, wriggling out of her suite jaqueta as she went.

Halfway to the reception area, she glimpsed movement from the corner of her eye. A coworker who hadn’t noticed it was already past quitting time and moving toward party time, probably. After only a few mais steps she recognized him. She stopped. The off-key interpretation of ‘Frosty the Snowman’ she’d been humming died in her throat.

It was him. Chuck Bass.

Her coração knew it, and so did her body. Instantly.

Why him? Why now? Why here?

Well, the why here part was easy enough – Chuck was the heir apparent to baixo Industries, destined to assume leadership of the company when his uncle stepped down. And on segundo thought, the way now part was a slam dunk, too, since Chuck pretty much defined ‘workaholic’ these days. And now that she considered it the why him part was obvious, too.

It had always been him, for her.

And now, just when she least expected it, here he was. Alone. With her. In exactly the circumstances they’d spent the past several years trying to avoid.

Even though his back was facing her, she’d have recognized him anywhere. His concentrated movements at his escrivaninha, mesa were uniquely his own. So was his take charge stance. And his aura of general authority…and his absolute, Hollywood leading man, charm and hunkiness.

Did she mention the charm and charisma? The reason that Blair had thrown caution to the wind ten years ago, and shattered her dream bubble. Replacing prince charming on a white stead for Chuck baixo in a black limo.

Well that had come back to bite her, now hadn’t it?
All the same, she couldn’t resist lingering. Chuck couldn’t see her, didn’t appear to have heard her, and seemed to be deeply engrossed in whatever architectural planes he was working on. Drawn por a compulsion even mais irresistible then the craving for gemada latte and natal biscoitos, cookies that had required a desk-to-Starbucks hike at three-thirty that afternoon, Blair took a step nearer. She absently hugged her belongings closer. And then, even though she knew she shouldn’t, she let go and allowed the longing she always felt for Chuck baixo to wash over her.

A rueful smile tugged at her scarlet lips. They’d had some good times together. Happy times. Sexy times. If not for –

Chuck suddenly stilled. He glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyed gaze going straight for Blair. The intensity of his regard shrank the thirty-odd feet between them to mere inches. Curious, heated inches.

Busted. Feeling her heartbeat kick into high gear, Blair lifted her chin. She looked back at him. They were supposed to be avoiding each other, and she knew it. So did he.

For the o espaço of several scattered breaths, neither she nor Chuck spoke. A connection spun between them all the same, through, a connection that was heady and spicy and meaningful, and laden with a sense that, if only things had been different…

‘Did you lose your magic slipper, Cinderella?’ he asked.

On that confusing note, Chuck came toward her. Unable to move, even though she ought to, Blair unwisely savored the power of his strides, the width of his shoulders. She held her breath as he crouched a few feet to her right then retrieved one of her prized shoes.

When he straightened and held it toward her, his height called her mind to the way she used to tuck her head cozily beneath his chin, as though she had been made to possess that niche. Blair blinked to dispel the memory. natal was a time for department store Santa’s and artificial snow in Tiffany’s windows – not regrets. Never regrets.

Her fingers closed on the strap of the shoe. It must have been fallen from her arms while she watched him, she realized. She’d been to engrossed to notice. And not noticing when one of your Manolos is missing ….well, that was serious stuff.

She tried to give him a smile, so he wouldn’t guess exactly how little she’d gotten over him in the last 10 years. ‘Thanks. I guess this makes you my own personal Prince Charming, doesn’t it?’

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Chuck felt the shoe slip from his hand. Assuming what he hoped was a dispassionate air, he watched Blair arch and twist as she traded her workday shoes for the sexy , sassy glamour of cinderela shoes.

It wasn’t an easy task. Watching her, that is. Not if he wanted to remain sanely uninvolved and rationally attempted. Moving the way Blair did, especially in a nothing little slip of a dress, ought to be illegal. And he ought to be arrested for his own protection, for allowing himself to enjoy it. But he did enjoy it, had loved the sight of her every movement since a night almost 11 years atrás at Victrola.

They’d been right to avoid each other all these years, Chuck decided. No matter how much he wished that weren’t true.

‘Prince Charming?’ he repeated. ‘Not quite. Wrong fairy tale. But I’d be willing to bet you’re late for the ball.’

She nodded. ‘Party. At Butter. You want to come?’

What he wanted – what he needed – to do was work. baixo was at the topo, início of the company letter head. Because of that there was this idea that Chuck owed his success mais to family connections then to effort or talent. And it left Chuck constantly striving to prove his worth. Despite making his first million at 18 off his investment property - a downtown burlesque club, Victrola.

During this slow week before Christmas, he’d planned to get a leg up on the new year’s proposals. He’d planned to take advantage of the quite offices and really get some work done, including going over the plans for the new innovative subdivisions he’d come up with. But now, faced with lair’s indomitable appeal….well, strangely enough Chuck felt his resolve to get down to work double.

Maybe is was simple human nature kicking in. Survival of the stubbornest. Or maybe it was plain old self preservation at work. Because when it came right down to it, stepping up to be a man for Blair Waldorf was what had turned him into the workaholic he was today and he didn’t know if his coração could handle disappointing her again.

Chuck inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume and the frizzy-sweet energy surrounding her. For an instant, he closed his eyes. If only things had been different…

‘No, thanks,’ Chuck made himself say. ‘I’ve got –‘

‘Work to do, I know. Haven’t you heard the saying? Something about all work and no play?’

Her mischievous grin captured him as she glanced up from adjusting her shoe strap. Her soft, brown curls, seemed as cheery as her smile. ‘I know you have.’ She adjusted her discarded suit jaqueta aver her arm. ‘So how about it? Sure you won’t ditch your escrivaninha, mesa and come along? It’s Christmas, after all.’

Sure, natal the only time of ano when hard work wasn’t its own reward, and the whole world exploded into some kid of tinsel coated, red-satin, blinking light, festooned fantasia land. The holidays were the most difficult time of ano for Chuck, they mark the anniversary of his fathers death. No matter what he did he would never be able to shake the feeling of discontentment at natal time.

Spending the evening with the only women he had never quite gotten over probably wouldn’t be the cure-all he needed.

‘Nah.’ He mustered a smile. ‘But you go on. Have fun. Dance on a few tables for me.’

Blair nodded, her hazel-eyed gaze never quite meeting his. Not wanting to prolong a conversation that was undoubtedly uncomfortable for them both, Chuck nodded too. As he turned away, he touched her shoulder in a farewell gesture. Well intentioned. And unexpectedly sensual.

The warmth of her bare skin stopped him instantly. He thought of long nights and leather limo seats, of whispers in the dark and shared laughter that went on and on. He thought of her. And losing her. Like a fist regret closed over him.

Their gazes met. Suppressed yearning tightened his muscles and shortened his breath. All he wanted, all he needed in that moment, was Blair. And him. Together. His hunger for it was as certain as the hammering of his heart, as inevitable as the Snow on natal in New York.

‘Blair –‘

‘Well, sorry to bother you, then,’ she blurted. ‘I’ll um, see you at your mom’s for natal eve.’

Her skittish expression made him want to comfort her with a caress. Her sudden wariness when he stroked his fingers over her skin – once – made him pull his palm away. Chuck watched her.

‘When a girl’s deprived of her Prince Charming,’ she said lightly, fiddling with her things again, ‘there’s only one thing to do, you know. Guess I’m destined to kiss a lot of frogs tonight.’

At the impish, falsely rueful look on Blair’s face, temptation flared again. Her feisty spirit attracted him like nothing else. Don’t do it, Chuck ordered himself as he thought over what she’d said and instantly formulated a reply. Just don’t –

‘Ribbit’, he said.

Blair’s eyes widened. Then, she laughed. ‘Don’t tempt me, wise guy. I’ve got mais lip-gloss in that bag’ – she nodded toward her spangled bolsa – ‘and I’m not afraid to use it. Afterward.’

She raised her eyebrows. He smiled. Hers was a challenged any red-blooded male would have been crazy to refuse. Never mind their shared history. Never mind the risk the risks inherent in leaning progressivo, para a frente to make sure she knew he could accept a dare as easily as she could issue one.

All at once, Blair’s casually said words sparked something new and fresh between them. Chuck could no longer deny it any mais then he could remember the correct order of Santa’s reindeer.

He wanted to kiss her. She seemed interested in beijar him. And in the dimness of the deserted office it suddenly seemed entirely appropriate that they do so.

Which was how Chuck knew he was way over his head this time. And it was only likely to get worse, the mais time he spent with Blair.

But this was only one moment. Nothing more. And because of that, he angeled his body closer. Their clothes touched, vibrant red meeting the gold of his neck tie. She glanced upward, and the teasing intimacy between them expanded. How many times had they come together like this, savoring the breaths between nearness and contact? How many times had he kissed her, and not been able to stop?

‘Not enough,’ she whispered, as though guessing his thoughts. Then Blair stepped closer, too.

Anticipation coursed through him, coupled with the familiar rush going toe-to-toe with her always gave him. Ruefully, Chuck shook his head. Only and idiot came this close to tasting forbidden fruit… a hungry idiot.

‘There must me some mistletoe around here somewhere.’ He said.

‘I don’t need an excuse.’ She raised her brows again.

At the implied do you? in her look, Chuck felt his coração beat quicken. He’d never been able to resist a challenge. Probably, that was part of the reason Blair appealed to him so strongly.

Probably, it was part of the reason he hadn’t been able to put their brief affair and even briefer relationship behind him. Yet.

‘Neither do I,’ he said, and lowered his head to kiss her.