Sitting down at the picnic table in the center of the food court, it was clear Ezra was a bit out of place. While he wasn't in a suit after spending the night at Blair's, he'd had Blaise bring by clothes for him before they'd left to look at the penthouse.

Even outside of work he stuck to collared button-ups with dress pants. His belt and shoes shone, his hair was styled like he was going to work, and even with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and no tie, it was clear he had wealth.

At the table beside him was a granny with her grandson, both wearing patch-work jackets and covered in grease from fried chicken.

The contrast was stark, and it made Ezra stand out.

They were just sitting in the crowd as they waited for their order number to be called, but the eyes darting their way made it clear that they were turning heads.

"You sure know how to draw eyes no matter where you are," Blair finally laughed, shaking her head.

"I think you may have called it earlier," he admitted with a shrug, "It's clear I'm not the target audience for this place."

"No, you're not," Blair said with a smile, "but it's a special kind of place. I love places like this. This is where you meet real people. Good people. No games, no traps, no schemes. It's pretty special being able to just exist like everyone else without feeling like you have to perform a dance just to survive."

"You really didn't think too kindly of the circles you were raised in," Ezra observed, raising an eyebrow.

Sure, he was from that same world, but he thrived in it. The dance, the games, the schemes - to him it was like solving a puzzle, and he was always the competitive sort.

"I didn't," Blair agreed immediately, "I like honesty, even when it's brutal. I prefer to know people are my friends even when times are hard, not just because I'm in a position that they see an advantage in. I prefer kindness to success and truth to manners. I like to eat fast and get crumbs on my shirt, get so drunk I forget how to play chess, and make a fool of myself on the dance floor despite having two left feet. That's how you live a full life. A real life."

"I see why your father wanted you behind your brother," Ezra nodded, leaning back slightly, "That mentality is a good one and a powerful one, just not as the face. It helps you slice through manipulation and keep things real for the one performing."

"My father said the same thing," Blair chuckled, looking toward the small country band playing in the corner and the few people that had gotten up to dance to the lively music, "He said we were the perfect team. We both always agreed. I loved standing behind him, supporting him, lifting him up so he could do his thing even better. He over thought a lot and got stuck in strategy without seeing the people. I would come in and bring a different perspective. It often felt like he would spiral on the details. He'd get stuck on one thing he couldn't figure out and it'd become a roadblock. I came in and helped him zoom out, see the bigger picture, and add context to the numbers he'd get lost in on the page. It helped him keep a level head as he made decisions, but his smarts were always the ones meant to truly lead."

"I'd have liked to have met them," Ezra said honestly, "Hard not to admire them both even without having had that chance."

"They were both incredible men," Blair said softly, before turning to Ezra with a smirk, "Hey. Do you dance?"

Ezra blinked, looking sharply at the dance floor where... okay, yeah, what they were doing was technically dancing... but not the kind of dancing he'd ever even seen, let alone tried.

"Uh..." his mind went blank, clearly not sure what to say.

Blair didn't give him a chance to figure it out. Standing up quickly, she grabbed his hand and dragged him with a mischievous glint in her eye toward the dance floor - cane and all. She bulldozed right through the crowd, and then stood on the edge of the dancing area with Ezra looking like a deer in headlights - so outside of his element he could hardly keep up.

Then, she started dancing... and it only took about two seconds for him to throw his head back and laugh a full bellied laugh.

She was horrible!

Blair smiled brightly, and didn't stop. If anything, she became even more animated as she hopped, skipped, and swayed - all while favoring her bad leg.

"You're terrible at this!" he scoffed, his eyes wide even as his smile didn't fade.

"Of course I am! Come on, big shot! Show me how it's done!"

A small push from behind him had Ezra turning slightly, and an older woman with a bright smile encouraged him to get out there with Blair and try it.

"You can't be worse than her, dear," she cackled, her voice raspy but filled with genuine warmth, "Go on! Dance with your girl!"

Ezra stepped forward and stood beside Blair, glancing at the others down the line for more guidance than whatever it was that she was doing. He picked it up pretty quickly, and despite clearly not having the flow quite down to make it look natural - well, anything was stellar when Blair was dancing nearby.

Blair's bright smile and free laugh had Ezra's own smile breaking across his face, completely incapable of hiding his enjoyment. They danced so long they missed it when their order was called, only stopping when Blair's leg was about to truly give out.

She had overdone it - breathing heavy and sweating despite her bright eyes - and Ezra had to half carry her back to the table.

"You're a rare one, young man," the woman who had given him his push said with a wink as he walked past with Blair on his arm, "You keep treatin' her proper, ya hear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ezra chuckled, nodding at her warmly.

"Let me go grab our food," Ezra said as he sat Blair down, noting with a slight frown how pale she was, "then I think we can just carry it out of here and head back to the car. I'm sure Blaise and Tim are getting tired of waiting anyway."

"Okay," Blair breathed, the high of the fun fading and leaving her far more aware of the pain she'd earned herself, "if you insist."

Ezra snorted, shaking his head at the stubborn woman, before gathering up their order and helping guide her back toward the entrance. Unfortunately, with the crowd there was no way she was moving through unscathed, and each time she was bumped or pushed as a natural flow of traffic - Blair would hiss in pain and stumble.

By the time they made it to the entrance, Ezra was genuinely worried and half-carrying her despite being laden with more than half-a-dozen bags through the parking lot.

Blaise hopped out of the car looking worried and met them halfway - taking the bags and the food out of Ezra's hands quickly.

"Shit! Are you alright? What the hell happened?"

The second Ezra's hands were free he scooped Blair into his arms and walked briskly toward the car.

"We went dancing," Blair breathed, trying to smile despite the way the pain made the skin around her eyes tighten, "May have... overdone it."

"You... went dancing... in the market?" Blaise blinked, furrowing his brow in confusion and looking at Ezra for context even as they rushed toward the car.

"Yes, we did," Ezra confirmed, the worry on his face clear, "while we waited for the food."

"We got a ton, since we weren't sure what you all liked," Blair said, biting her lip as Ezra carefully sat her down in the car.

Even though he tried his best to be gentle, it was clear she was struggling.

"You are recovering from a broken leg and you went dancing? Are you insane?" Blaise grumbled, his brows furrowed as he put the bags in the trunk, noting they got quite a bit.

At least they got groceries too so they could make dinner at home and not have to go out again, he thought to himself.

The second they were buckled in and Tim pulled onto the road, Blair reached into one of the paper bags she'd refused to let go of and pulled out a stick - handing it to Ezra.

"Who says you can't have snacks before you eat?" Blair said with a smirk, looking toward Blaise and reaching as far forward as she could with another in her hand.

"Um," Blaise raised an eyebrow, taking it from her with a confused look, "and what is this?"

"Ojiisan Sogo has a stand with Japanese treats," Blair explained, pulling one out for herself, "this is called dango, and it's one of my favorites! Go on, try it."

They had ordered quite a bit, so all of the items they'd ordered were wrapped in foil and placed in white paper bags for carrying rather than handed to them directly. In this case, that meant the second the dango were unwrapped, the sticky sauce threatened to make a mess.

"Keep the foil wrapped around the stick to keep the sauce from getting all over your clothes," Blair warned as Blaise started to unwrap his.

He shot her a look then, watching her unwrap hers then slide an entire dumpling off the stick with her teeth and chew happily. He raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ezra - who was watching her in amusement - before mimicking her.

"Mm, that's actually not bad," Blaise murmured, not having expected it to be chewy, "What is this?"

"It's a rice dumpling coated in a soy sauce," Blair explained, "It's perfect for snacking on until we get back and can lay out the rest of the food to eat properly."

"There is no way this has any nutritional value," Ezra scoffed, not sure if he should eat all four of them.

"Um, no," Blair laughed, "snacks are not for nutrition. They're for happiness. Eat and be happy, Ezra. Worry about calories tomorrow."

Blaise nearly choked, fully aware of what a health nut Ezra was. He didn't say anything, though, and instead reached in and unwrapped one for Tim - who, after a few hesitant glances, finally accepted his own skewer.

Tim wasn't really a fan, but ate silently while he drove them back to Blair's apartment.

Despite the clear evidence that Blair was struggling, the atmosphere was light and everyone was in a great mood by the time Tim pulled up to the curb in front.

Tim, of course, remained in the car - with a few treats that Blair set aside for him - while Blaise and Ezra helped Blair inside. They forced her to stay on the couch while they brought everything in, and she verbally guided them as they put everything away instead.

The pain medicine she'd taken kicked in not too long after they ate, though, and she dozed off on the couch before they even started packing.

"She doesn't know when to quit, does she?" Blaise muttered, eyeing the pale-faced woman as she slept .

"No," Ezra said, frowning slightly, "She danced until she could barely stand."

"That can't be good for her leg..."

"Definitely not. Let's pack up tonight while she sleeps. Tomorrow, we'll take her to the penthouse and make her rest while we unpack. She doesn't want strangers in her place anyway, so we'll just do it ourselves."

"I'm not getting a second of rest this weekend, am I boss?" Blaise grumbled, glaring at Ezra.

"Nope," Ezra confirmed without a shred of guilt, "gotta make you earn that salary somehow."

"I clearly deserve a raise putting up with you," Blaise sighed, shaking his head.

Ignoring Blaise completely, Ezra carried Blair carefully to her bed, tucking her in before he closed her door quietly.

The two men worked late into the night until every room but hers was packed neatly away in clearly labeled boxes, then Blaise finally left for home while Ezra crashed on the couch just like he had the night before.

While he was worried about her over-exerting herself, Ezra found himself thinking back to her horrific dancing and drifted to sleep with a smirk on his face.

--

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