TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

Summary : Chuck has no Christmas spirit. Ah, but Blair is greatly mistaken and Chuck sets out to prove her wrong.

Disclaimer : I own Manolos and DVDs, but not the company or the show – as if you didn't know.

Twelve Days Of Christmas

One : The Grinch Who Stole Blair's Christmas

"Damn that motherchucker!"

"Really, Blair? I thought we got over that one in high school." Serena's voice sighs, but she detects a light, teasing tone to it and decides that her best friend is just trying to distract her from Chuck's latest mess.

"What can I do, S? He insists on ruining everything." She groans dramatically, holding the phone close to her ear as she falls back into a mountain of pillows, silk pyjamas soothing her skin.

It is precisely two weeks before Christmas and this is not how Blair Waldorf had planned to spend her holiday seasons – not at all. She'd made extravagant plans with Chuck, now that they were back together and engaged, with no threats looming in the horizon. They were supposed to fly out to Italy tomorrow morning and enjoy a private Christmas together for three whole weeks before flying back for the new year. He would take her to all those wonderful small towns, knowing how much she loves the art and architecture of it all, and they would be together, and they would be happy, and for once, she would have a beautiful Christmas.

But of course that had been too much to ask for, and so now she is back in her old home, in her old bed, ready for a night of Audrey and some best-friend therapy while Chuck gets ready for bed in their home, in their bed, hoping to catch some sleep before he leaves for London in the morning for some trivial business matter, something that will keep him occupied for the next sixteen days, meaning that he will only be back after Christmas, forcing her to spend the holidays all alone as everyone else already has their own plans and selfish as she is, she wouldn't ask anyone to make last-minute changes just to accommodate hers.

She sighs, not just for the purpose of being theatrical but because she is actually upset, and wishes for the millionth time that Serena were here. She won't ask, though, because Lily had insisted on a family dinner earlier and she's not going to deprive Serena of a night with her family. She would, however, accept if Serena were to insist on coming over, because turning her down would just be the action of an unappreciative, bad friend.

"Don't worry, B. You and Chuck have been through so much – I doubt this mess will do anything, especially since it isn't even your fault, or his. It's just life."

She lets Serena's familiar voice soothe her and hits play, watching a scene she's observed hundreds of times unfold on screen, the old-time feel of the film providing her some measure of comfort.

"I know," She says, exasperated. "But I was… it was supposed to be our Christmas, Serena. Just the two of us, in love and in some beautiful area, like Tuscany or Volterra. And it was supposed to be perfect."

"And then he would take you to Rome, and get you the most beautiful dress, and bring you to some amazing, exclusive dinner benefit, and everything would be a fairytale." Serena plays along, knowing exactly how Blair's brain works – one of the many dangerous side-effects of years of friendship; dangerous only because Blair's mind functions in ways that are beyond her comprehension, most of the time.

"Hey!" Blair cries in protest. "I never said any of that! I've grown, Serena. As a self-actualized individual, I recognize that not everything has to be straight from a book, or a movie, or what society deems to be a perfect scene, for my day to be wonderful and complete. And it isn't necessary to live a fairytale – sometimes, they hurt, S." And then her voice ages with grief, even though she's put it all behind her, because her ruined fairytale still haunts her, sometimes.

Nothing seems to exist right then, just her and her endless grief, until Serena quietly calls her name.

"I'm alright," Blair smiles bravely through tears that threaten to destroy her composure and her future. "I know it is completely illogical to belive that everything will be perfect now," She admits quietly, "but I just hoped that we could have made new memories, S. I was hoping for a real Christmas with Chuck to replace all of the others, with-" She still can't say his name, not when it is only her and her best friend, without the world watching and demanding that she puts on a show and a brave front.

"B, do you want me to come over?"

And despite her earlier bravado and her self-preservation instincts that makes it impossible for her to admit her need for help, she finds herself speaking up and asking for just that in the smallest voice possible. "Yes, please."

"I'll be there in ten."

Serena comes and they watch Tiffany's and Roman Holiday and don't talk about it, because that is what she needs. They talk about Chuck, though, because it is inevitable – he is inevitable – and because she hates being on bad terms with him, simply because they've had more than enough cold silence between the two of them to last them for eternity.

Her best friend counsels her and advices her and pushes her in the right direction, the way she always has – the way they always do for each other. Serena doesn't judge, and she doesn't order – she is part of the original Non-Judging Breakfast Club, after all, from back when it was just the two of them – so Blair isn't all that unused to it. It still brings to mind fond memories and sleepless nights shared by two young girls, and somehow they haven't changed, not really.

And neither have she and Chuck, because they still need each other, even after all these years. And so, in the morning, Blair wakes up, and prepares herself for the day and says a quick thank-you to Serena before she leaves.

She has someone hail her a taxi and slides in, rattling off the familiar address. And then she sits back and waits, and observes the familiar route that will lead her home.

"It's just a holiday, Blair!"

"Just a holiday? Like I'm just a fiancee, I suppose? This was supposed to be everything!" And of course they're fighting again before they could even make up, because how could they honestly call themselves Chuck and Blair otherwise? She's screaming from across the room as he lounges around, waiting for Arthur to pull up, and damn it, she hates him – and herself – so much right now.

"What is wrong with you? This is a business trip, not something I'd planned. As if I would ever plan to disrupt your plans."

"And what is that supposed to mean, Chuck? That I'm an uptight bitch with control issues? That I'm a stubborn airhead who refuses to think of others?" She challenges, just pushing him to the limit, wanting him to snap as she has.

"It means that I wouldn't ever do this of my own accord. I'm not the one ruining our holidays, Blair." He answers calmly, and she wants to slap him for being able to keep his composure.

"Yes, of course not, because I am the one doing that."

"Damn it, Blair. What is wrong with you?" He stands up and gets himself a drink, a usual move she's seen a hundred times; never has it been quite so rage-inducing, though. She hates this so much; hates that they still brandish sharp insults like knives and swords and lethal weapons, even after all that they've been through.

"Nothing is wrong with me. This was supposed to be our Christmas! I wanted to make new memories, Chuck, to replace old ones that I am no longer fond of. Did you ever think that maybe I was trying to make myself feel better about all this? So many people were hurt, Chuck, and for what? So that we could have fights like this every week?"

Defeated, she turns and heads for their room, coming to a stop in front of the closed door. "All I wanted was something different." It takes everything in her to admit that because he will know – he'll understand that she didn't want something different, she wanted something uniquely theirs to drive out everything else, to carry with her forever.

Her hands close around the door knob as her breath catches in her throat, and she waits for him to give her a heated look while he picks up his phone and calmly cancels his plans, picking her over everything else.

He knocks back his drink and grits his teeth.

"It's just Christmas, Blair."

Her heart sinks because it is no longer about some European escape, or new memories, but her own value to him. What is the point of it all, if you're willing to give up your life but not your work for the one you love? What does it even mean, anymore?

"You have no Christmas spirit." She spits out bitterly because she refuses to utter some heartbroken, pained words that betray her emotions in front of him, and with that, she escapes into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

She doesn't cry until she can hear the elevator ding and feel him leave her.

It gets better, I promise! Christmas fic, remember? Everything gets Christmas-sy soon. I just had to set the scene and since this is Chuck and Blair we're talking about, some drama and angst and fighting was necessary. Also, keep in mind that all the C/B pieces I've done so far as always pure angst and minimal dialogue, so this is new territory for me!

Don't forget to reciprocate – this is my gift to you, and I would love some reviews in return! (Ribbons and fancy wrapping are optional.) Also, remember to check out the five other Christmas Specials! This is just the first wave that includes Fringe's Of Eggnog And Festive Flirting, TVD's The Nutcracker and this fic. The other three make up the second round and will be up in the next 48 hours. For more info on these holiday specials, make sure you check out my homepage and Twitter!

E Salvatore,

December 2011.