Hello! HO! HO! HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS! I just want to send my best wishes to all of you and yours in the wonderful season! Whatever you celebrate, I wish you happiness and joy now and into the New Year! Here is a little CB Christmas joy on one of my personal favourite days of the year! Mary, I'm checking the mail for my pony. Here we go...
Chuck stood in the elevator next to Bart, and pretended not to care that his father was angry at him. He stood straight, with his feet slightly parted, one hand in the pocket of his pants, unconsciously in the same stance as his father. By the seventh floor Chuck broke slightly and tried to reconcile with the cold man next to him.
"It's just a little purple..."
Bart's jaw twitched as he looked down at his eight year old son. "This is a Christmas party, not Mardi Gras. Also, this is an opportunity for networking... which can't be done if no one is taking you seriously." Bart pointedly looked at the purple tie Chuck had chosen to wear with his gray suit.
Everything in Chuck rebelled, wanting to tell his dad that he was 10, and who did he need to network with, but he held himself in check, biting the inside of his cheek till he tasted blood. It was Christmas Eve and Bart was still in the city. More than anything Chuck wanted to spend Christmas with his family, and that could only happen if his father stayed in town. Chuck knew that if he stepped out of line and made his father angry, he'd be spending Christmas in the Palace with his latest nanny.
Luckily the elevator chimed and they were stepping out into the Waldorf's lavish annual Christmas party.
Within seconds a super model, who was the new face of Eleanor's spring collection, appeared, and was pulling Bart towards some mistletoe. Bart fixed his son with a pointed look as he allowed himself to be dragged away.
Chuck wondered around the party and was unsurprised to find that there were few, if any children, and even then the youngest of them was 14 and born again. He finally spotted Harold Waldorf through the crowd and made his way over to the man who was standing and chatting with Calvin Klein's latest boxer model.
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Waldorf." Chuck said politely.
"Charles!" Harold beamed. "Merry Christmas! I love your tie!"
Chuck couldn't help but give a small smile back, Harold being one of the nicest parents on the Upper East Side.
"I was wondering why Blair wasn't here tonight?" He played innocent. He had a good idea where Blair was, but he wanted to point out her absence to her father. He was a nice man, but he could be a dreamer.
"Blair-bear? Not here? Of course she is! She's probably with her mother listening her talk about hemlines. You know how much my little girl loves her fashion!"
Chuck nodded and wandered on until he spotted Eleanor, who was most certainly not with Blair. Giving up on the main party, Chuck walked into the kitchen as if he owned the place and looked around. One of the waiters started to tell him he shouldn't be in here, but another grabbed his arm, and Chuck could hear him whisper, "Don't you know who that kid is?"
Before the other could answer Chuck walked past them to the servant's stairs, and turned to give them a short stare. "I'm Chuck Bass."
When Chuck got to the second floor he headed right for Blair's room. When he pushed the door open his eyes widened fractionally in surprise. Set up in Blair's room was a full Christmas tree, lights and all. It was beautiful. As was the girl that stood next to it, looking at the lights, and as she turned to look at him the Christmas lights were reflected in her eyes.
A second later those same dark brown eyes were flashing with ire. "What are you doing, Bass?"
"I got lost." He lied smoothly. He walked in and indicated the tree with a sweeping hand. "You know... Santa doesn't come to your house twice just because you have more than one tree."
Blair rolled her eyes at his teasing comment, and then she bit back with a smirk. "Even if he was real, he wouldn't be leaving any presents for you."
Chuck smirked back. "No one is above a bribe."
"And this is why you've got a lifetime place on the naught list." She said with a snappy superiority that made him laugh.
Chuck didn't have to ask why she was up here, he'd been to Waldorf parties before and he knew, while she loved a party, her mother's parties often had her taking refuge in her room. Chuck walked to her chaise, which was set to the side of the tree, and lay down on it as if he owned it.
Blair thought about kicking him out, but while she would never admit it, it was nice to have the company. She looked back at the Christmas tree that her father always had set up especially for her in her room, and then remembered something. She bent down, picked up a gift, and walked over to Chuck.
"Merry Christmas, Chuck."
He looked at the gift she held out to him, and raised an eyebrow as she started to wave it in his face to take it.
He then surprised her by pulling a box out of his pocket. And he smiled again when she dropped his gift to snatch the one for her from his hand. She really did love presents. He watched her tear into the wrapping, and smiled at her squeal of glee at the earrings she found in side.
Chuck too more time with his gift, rolling it over in his hands several times before running his fingers along the edge and pulling the tape free. He opened the box to find a first edition book... his favourite, but one he'd never told anyone about. He looked up at her, speechless.
"I've only seen you read it like a million times, Chuck." She said with a toss of her chin. "It wasn't brain surgery."
"Merry Christmas, Waldorf."
"Same to you, Bass."
Their first Christmas after their wedding...
Blair lay on her stomach on the wide wooden bed that was set a foot into the water. The wood was bleached from the sun and new gossamer white cloth canopied the top of the planked roof of the bed and flowed down the sides. From this spot she could open her eyes and see nothing but ocean and sky. It was beautiful, and it felt like there was no one else on the planet but them... well, it would be them if he would hurry up and get back. Fifteen minutes ago he'd gone into their luxurious beach cabin to get them some water. Ten minutes before that he'd been rubbing sunblock over her warm skin, and an half hour before that they'd been making love in this bed by the tropical beach.
She sat up, a little disgruntled, pulling the sunglasses off her face, and looked towards the house, trying to catch sight of her new husband. She smiled. Her new husband.
They'd gotten married less than two weeks ago, and this had been their first chance at an actual honeymoon, and they'd jumped at it. They'd been here a few days, and were going to be here a week more. She was so happy she could barely stand it and wanted to be with him every minute... which was why she was growing more temperamental with every passing second he was gone.
Given that when he'd removed her bikini with his teeth, he hadn't seemed to pay much attention to wear he'd thrown the garments, she guessed her suit was now being worn by a fish. Pulling the sheet off the bed, she wrapped it around herself and then stepped into the knee deep water.
She waded up onto the white sand beach, the edge of the sheet soaking in the salt water as she went. She started up to the house, but on her fourth step the heated sand started to burn her feet, and she started moving in a running hop to get to the house.
She made it onto the shaded veranda, and took a moment to grab a bottle of water from the ice box on the table, and poured in over her toes. She was still trying to pad around to dry them when she walked into the opened wall of the house.
"Chuck?!" She half yelled as she looked down at her toenails. "I thought you were going to bring my flip flops? I think I nearly lost a toe... and you know you'd miss my dexterity..."
She ended on a sultry note, and had a smile on her face when she finally looked up and saw him. Her jaw dropped. He stood, in the navy board shorts he'd pulled on when he got up from the bed, his hair was ruffled from her hands, and she could distinctly see red lines from her nails marring his shoulders. She knew these marks were matched on his back. None of this surprised her.
The fully decorated and lit Christmas tree he was standing next to did.
"Do you like it?" He looked unsure, and shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding towards the tree. "I know you like red... but I thought the silver and gold was... nice..."
She shook her head.
"Can you say something? It often scares me when you're speechless..."
"Ch-UCK!" She squealed before running across the room and throwing herself into his arms.
Chuck held her tightly to him, and smiled as she started to plant happy little kisses on his neck and jaw. "It's perfect!"
An hour later they lay on the floor beside the tree, with only a sheet as cover as they gazed up at the lights.
"We should do this every year." Blair sighed happily as she nuzzled into her husband's chest. When she was a young teen she'd always thought chest hair was gross, but now she couldn't imagine it being more attractive... or maybe it was because of the chest that hair belonged to. "Maybe next year... Bali?"
"What?" She looked confused. "You know you love me with tan lines... It can be part of your Christmas present."
"No." He shook his head. "One, I want you with or without tan lines. When you have them it just gives me something more to trace with my tongue."
She smiled warmly, and felt parts of her warm as well. She lifted herself up a little bit to kiss his lips.
"And two, I want this to be our last Christmas on a beach."
"Very well. I look good in skiwear too. And we know how sexy I find you in a scarf..." She sang to him with a dimpled smile.
He shook his head again a serious expression on his face, one which brought a sobering expression to hers.
"I don't want Christmas' on beaches, or slopes for us..."
"Then what do you want?" She whispered, looking deeply into his dark honey eyes.
"I want Christmas' in New York for you... me... and our family." He broke eye contact, looking away to the lights of the tree, but Blair's hands crept over to cup his jaw and bring him back to her. She knew what he meant about their family. He wasn't talking about her parents or his mother. He was talking about their children.
"I want that too." She husked. "I want Christmas' in New York for you... me... and our family."
The Christmas after that (their second)...
Blair stood on a stool next to the 14 foot Christmas tree in her living room. It was 'nearly' completely decorated, which is what anyone else would think, but not Blair Bass. She went up on her tip toes and reached to set a purple bow on an empty branch... which is when her husband's hands latched onto her hips. She startled and spun towards him.
"Chuck!" She gasped.
"Blair." He frowned at her as he pulled her down from the stool and into his arms. He didn't say more, but she could feel his displeasure and worry.
"Chuck..." She started to sooth, but stopped when he shook his head.
One arm stayed around her, and the other found her stomach. "I just want you both to be safe."
"We are." She promised as she pressed her forehead to his. "We will be."
Their third Christmas...
It was just past midnight and Chuck was laying in bed reading some reports in the low light of his bedside lamp. Blair lay beside him, her backside pressed to his side, and he rested his hand on her hip, every now and then stroking the silk covered skin. His wife was dead to the world... until a small hiccuping cry started to come over the baby monitor. Blair stirred, muttered to herself, half asleep, about Bass men obsessed with her breasts.
"Shhhh..." Chuck hushed her. "I'll get him."
Then he made a sly comment about how he hoped this would allow him continued access to her breasts. He grunted as her elbow slammed into his gut. Wincing as he got out of bed he walked through the connecting door to the nursery and was soon standing over the crib.
"I take it someone is hungry?" He smiled down at his son, and his smile grew when he saw Henry's eyes find him and his cries stopped. His little arms and legs started to flap and kick, and he let out little grunts.
Chuck scooped Henry up and settled his son on his shoulder. After four and a half months Chuck had become secure and confident in holding his baby, in fact he loved holding his son. He headed downstairs and into the kitchen, heating a bottle of breast milk and then walking into the living room.
The only lights on were that of the Christmas tree, and Chuck sat down in an armchair in its light. The baby fussed in his arms, but settled as he latched onto the nipple. Chuck smiled down at Henry, gently stoking his wispy dark hair as his son's lips worked furiously. Forty-five minutes later, a full and burped Henry slept in his father's arms.
Chuck looked up at the tree and then back at his son. This was Henry's first Christmas. Their first Christmas as a family of three. In a few hours all Blair's parents, his mother, along with his sister and brother would be over to his home for Christmas breakfast and opening gifts by the tree. And then later tonight there's be a full, traditional Christmas dinner for all of them plus Dorota and her family.
The key word for Chuck was 'traditional', and in fact this was one of the few holidays he was adamant about. Family with all the trimmings. This is what he has always wanted. He looked down at the baby who slept so peacefully in his arms. This is what he wanted for Henry.
Chuck was an astute man. He knew he loved the trappings of Christmas, but he knew, more importantly, he wanted a home full of love. This is what he had. He thought about his wife upstairs, and the son they'd made together, and he felt the waves of love wash over him, not just with how much he loved them, but how much he was loved in return.
Chuck clearly his throat, and held Henry a little tighter, wishing Blair was there. He seemed to get his wish, because a few moments later he heard her familiar tread coming into the room. He looked up at her and smiled, and she raised a brow at him.
"His schedule." She said pointedly, reminding him about how she was trying to sleep train their son.
Chuck gave her the bashful puppy expression that always made her melt. "It's Christmas..."
She smiled at him in the way that brought out her dimples the most. "Then I guess you're forgiven... Can I open a present now?!" She whispered excitedly.
He chuckled at her giddiness, that's his girl. Then he cleared his expression. "No." He said in a serious voice.
"Ch-uck!" She stomped her foot.
But he shook his head. "Not until the morning. Santa hasn't even been here yet."
Blair sighed and then nudged her husband until he moved over and she wedged herself into his side. One hand going to the nape of Chuck's neck, and the other resting on their baby.
"I love you..." She couldn't help but whisper to Henry, because she did, with everything in her, and never tried to stop herself from telling him this. She looked up at Chuck, and felt her love for him. "And I love you."
Chuck smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Merry Christmas, Blair."
She looked into his eyes, returning his happiness. "Merry Christmas, Chuck."
This was an exchange that had passed between them many times over many years, but now they looked down and added to the wish reverently.
"Merry Christmas, Henry."
TahDAH! Just wanted to give a little supporting shout out to all my fellow ice storm 2013 peeps. A couple of thoughts... I love my country. I am grateful and proud to be a Canadian, but here's one thing... After the ice storm, my mom and I were talking about the trees and about how beautiful they were, coated in several millimeters of ice and sparkling. My mom said, "Stunning, but terrifying." Which is totally what the ice storm is. It's like Canada reminding us, if the power goes out... you suckers are not going to last long in winter. So to everyone affected by the storm, stay warm!
Many thanks to Ellen for catching my typos and giving me feedback! The last section is on me, and I didn't check it. And again... MERRY CHRISTMAS!