When Ezra knocked on Blair's door, he wasn't quite sure what to expect.

He had seen her beaten in an alley - ready to go down fighting as she faced off against thugs with a metal pipe.

He had seen her face her ex - both in the hospital and in the restaurant - and knew she was absolutely no pushover... she knew her worth and had no problem standing up for herself.

He had seen her at work, of course, and knew she was incredibly professional - even with a serious injury and a cane, she could demand the attention of those around her and deliver her message well.

He had seen her amongst 'her own' - not the wealthy she'd been raised around, but the people she clearly saw as her own at the market - and knew she had this radiating goodness that drew others to her, helping her form deep, meaningful relationships that she clearly valued.

He had seen her in her own environment, both drunk and sober, while at home - and knew she was stubborn, playful, witty, and fiery. When she relaxed, there was something truly special about the woman - even if she forgot how to play the very game she was trying to teach him to play.

Now the real test... the one that truly tested his capabilities as her fake match and as a potential, future business partner.

Seeing her first thing in the morning on a work day, when the sun was still asleep but the sounds of the city's first traffic jams were undeniable beyond the front doors of the high-rise.

He had seen her wake up at her apartment on the weekend, of course, but he knew this was not the same. She woke up when she was ready, came out to eggs he'd made, and was not in any hurry to go anywhere. No, this was the real test. His father had warned him once about this pivotal moment with a woman, and he had learned the truth of it through his many failed attempts at relationships.

The real test of whether or not he could handle a woman was to see her first thing in the morning on a Monday before coffee - or whatever morning beverage she used to drag herself out of the dreaming world she clearly preferred to reality.

Would she be a demoness, raised from hell with pits of darkness for eyes before the caffeine hit? He'd seen more than one woman ready to kill if someone so much as breathed at them wrong before they downed a cup or two of their liquid gold, and if she was one of those women... well, maybe they'd ride to work separately?

Would she be a whimpering princess, needy and clingy until she realized where she was and what she was doing? He wasn't sure he could handle Blair clinging to him until she processed that the day had, in fact, come to call despite her best efforts to fight off sleep. He could make Blaise come wake her up if that was the case... Blaise would probably have a great time dealing with a human koala...

Would she be a morning person? The ones that got up so early that it made grown men cry, did yoga or a run like they were never tired, drank some liquid breakfast, then walked into the office like they never needed to sleep in the first place. He shivered at that possibility... women who were morning people were the scariest, and it was truly a mystery to him how those women hadn't just taken over the world yet. He was pretty sure that'd be a breeze for them.

He waited, curious to see what faced him - betting on demoness, but genuinely worried for the potential 'morning person' that was Blair.

When she answered the door, though, Ezra tilted his head.

"Well, you're here awful early," Blair drawled, raising an eyebrow at him, "Now why would you risk your neck to come see me so early in the morning?"

"Am I risking my neck?" Ezra asked carefully, eyeing her nervously.

Demoness... he could work with that if that was the case.

Blair studied him for a moment and then smirked.

"The fact that you actually look scared is kind of adorable... aren't you supposed to be some big, bad CEO? Well come in, big bad CEO and see how scary I am."

Blair stepped away, moving toward the kitchen to pull the toast out of the toaster before tossing some scrambled eggs she'd clearly just taken off the stove on top.

Oh no, Ezra thought grimly, maybe she really is a morning person...

"Do you always make breakfast in the mornings?" Ezra asked, looking around to see if he could figure out exactly what to expect from Blair in the mornings.

"Your attempt to find out what kind of morning person I am reminds me of my father any time he tried to date," Blair laughed, shaking her head as she sat down at the table and ate casually, "He used to believe that the moment you found out whether or not someone was your kind of morning person was the make-or-break it moment for relationships."

Ezra blinked, looking at Blair curiously.

He very much also believed that... as did his own father.

Blair continued, though, acting as if she didn't notice his shock.

"I think men in power have a fear," she continued, sipping coffee between each bite leisurely, "that if their morning self can't handle another person's morning self, it's some kind of set up for disaster - not just for their mood or the day, but for the whole relationship. Something about control, maybe? Not sure. Still, it's funny seeing it after so many years - it's been a long while since I've had someone test me like this."

"I wasn't testing you," Ezra lied sheepishly, still eyeing the space and trying to figure out exactly what he'd signed up for.

He was getting warning signs of morning person, sure, but she wasn't put together enough for that. She was still in pajamas, but she already had on light makeup and had done her hair for the day. He didn't see any signs of a yoga mat or a gym towel, and she didn't look like she'd just worked out... but she was awful awake while she sipped her coffee casually.

"I've been up for hours, Ezra," Blair finally said with a chuckle, shaking her head and taking her now empty plate to the kitchen as she continued, "I do early-morning and late-night calls with my directors, partners, and vendors since I can't do meetings while I'm at work. I'm not really a morning person, but I'm motivated so I push through. I prefer quiet in the first half-hour of my wakeup, but if I don't get it I have learned not to stab people before my coffee. People like me don't have the luxury of throwing a tantrum despite caffeine deprivation, but I don't exactly go for a 4am morning run either."

"A blend," Ezra said seriously, acknowledging she was likely a mild-demoness meets reluctant-morning-person.

He could work with that, because that actually described him incredibly well too.

Did he want to get up early? No. Did he do it anyway, grumbling internally the entire time while he went through a routine he knew was good for him despite how it made him miserable? Yes.

But he wasn't a woman, so he wasn't allowed to be hell incarnate before his morning brew. No one was going to baby him like a man-child until he got his bearings. Instead, he tried to channel his internal take-over-the-world-morning-person like women did. He was relatively successful, despite his distaste for the consistency and self-motivation it required.

"Indeed," Blair laughed, "How many types do you think there are? Dad had, like, 15 different categories that looked like a damn astrology chart. If someone he was interested in didn't fall into just the right sections, he was convinced a relationship could never work so he never even tried."

"6," Ezra said honestly, before adding, "but then you can blend those 6 in many different ways."

"Is this a rich guy thing?" Blair mumbled, cocking her head as she stretched lazily and moved to pack her laptop bag for the day.

She'd always believed her father's obsession with how women handled mornings was just one of those eccentric things he did. She chuckled at the memory of her father kicking out a woman that Blair and Jake both had agreed would have been a good match for him at the time because 'her morning self was his polar opposite.'

Seeing Ezra trying to dissect her with his eyes just like her father used to do with any woman he was considering was downright hilarious to her.

If he wanted the truth, she was fine letting him see how she was in the mornings. Better now, she supposed, than later if this was some kind of make-or-break test like it was for her father.

"Well, let me tell you what my morning is like then," Blair chuckled, shaking her head, "I get up early. Too early. Usually between 4 and 5... and I'm very unhappy about it. My first meetings usually happen between 4:30 and 5:30, so I adjust my wake-up slightly if I can get a few extra minutes."

Okay, Ezra thought as he nodded along, so not a true morning person for sure, because they don't shift around day to day like that just to sleep a little extra.

"Then, I take about 30 minutes to get myself together for my video call," she continued, ignoring the way he was nodding to himself, "I do my face and hair, and toss a jacket over my pajamas that I literally reserve specifically for my morning meetings. It makes it look like I'm all put together with minimal effort. I usually eat a yogurt or boiled egg to go with a cold-brew that are ready to grab from the fridge, because I can't be bothered to get up earlier and cook. It helps me power through those meetings on minimal effort."

Prepared the night before, Ezra thought approvingly, this is all very reasonable so far.

"After my meetings," she continued, setting her bag by the front door with her shoes, coat, and other necessities - double checking that her keys and phone were also there, "I eat something more real - preferably warm unless I'm having a real bad start to the day. Toast and eggs or congee is about the fanciest I'll go, with most days being instant oatmeal or canned biscuits and deli meat."

Blair paused as she started heading toward her bedroom, smiling slightly as she added, "Dad always said a warm breakfast is the only way to start a day off right... otherwise you invite bad luck."

"Superstitious man, your father?" Ezra asked, leaning against the wall and smirking as Blair answered all his questions without him having to ask them.

He was wondering if she always cooked for herself in the morning, and discovering she tried to balance healthy with fast put his mind even further at ease that she wasn't 'one of those' morning people.

"A bit," Blair acknowledged, yawning slightly as she stretched, "but, we all have our quirks. Anyway, after my warm breakfast I gather all my stuff by the door... 'cause if I don't, I will forget something. It's something Jake always had to do too, and I realized it was helpful to have an intentional ritual of gathering things that I'd need in advance rather than trying to hunt it all down in a hurry right before I leave. Then I get dressed and head out."

"No morning exercise?" Ezra asked cautiously.

"Nah, I prefer to work out after work. That's usually when I need to vent out my irritation," Blair grunted, walking into her bedroom and leaving the door open so Ezra could follow her, "Sometimes I'll work out again later in the evening if someone really pissed me off or something. Not too late, though, since I get an energy boost after I work out."

"Exercise for anger management," Ezra chuckled, "I do that myself, actually."

"I think we all need an outlet," Blair laughed, heading into the closet and turning on the light before closing the door - she kept talking, but her voice was muffled slightly by the shift, "exercise isn't the worst one we could choose, in my opinion."

"Do you pick your clothes out in advance?" Ezra asked, looking around at the room Blair had only had for a single night.

She hadn't made the bed, he'd noticed, but her room wasn't messy. She was orderly, but not obsessive... clean, but not a germaphobe.

Honestly, he considered from what little he knew about her, balance seemed to just kind of be Blair's thing.

She lived in this strange place of moderation he'd never seen before. She had this way of being able to exist between extremes while never yielding when it mattered to her... everything about her screamed 'middle-ground' without being a pushover.

The perfect consultant to help any business leader manage behind the scenes, Ezra mused, clearly the result of how her father had raised of her to support her brother.

"Nah," Blair said through the door, "but I don't need to. I have three tiers for work - business casual for the day-to-day, more formal stuff for days with meetings or presentations with the big wigs at the company, and then one or two really fancy suits for when I'm going to be public facing. I just bought multiples of the same outfit for each tier - so I can just grab the outfit I need for the day I have without looking."

"You wear the exact same outfit every day?" Ezra asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Well, not the exact same one," Blair huffed, stepping out of the closet, "but yeah. It's the same blouse and pants in the same colors. I don't have to worry about choosing anything if it's always the same."

Sure enough he recognized the outfit she was wearing as the same one she wore when he pulled her into his office. It was slightly more casual than what she had worn for her presentation, and clearly a bit more comfortable, without sacrificing professionalism.

"Do you always do pants?" he tilted his head, genuinely curious.

"Uh, yeah," Blair scoffed, raising an eyebrow at him in challenge, "Skirts and dresses aren't practical, at all. I have things to do, and worrying about flashing someone if I sit wrong doesn't help me get things done. If I have to wear a dress, I expect snacks as a reward after."

Blair smirked and added, "we should add that to the contract. Any time you put me in a dress for a gala or a date, I expect snacks. The kind with no nutritional value. Compensation for my emotional suffering."

Ezra threw his head back and laughed, unable to help himself at the way she painted the expectation that she might have to wear a dress as some form of psychological torture.

"Well, I'm glad our last date went the way it did then," Ezra chuckled, shaking his head as he followed her toward the front door, "Since I forced you to wear a dress, and all that."

"That's the only dress in my closet right now," Blair admitted as she put on her loafers, "I didn't even own one before that day for moral reasons."

She raised her head from where she had been focused on her shoes, a glint in her eye and a smirk on her lips, "you bribed me with a priceless historical artifact that day... but next time, snacks are required."

Ezra's eyes moved to her wrist where the bracelet she'd put on while in the closet now rested like it had always belonged there.

He didn't show it, but inside he was quite smug that he'd managed to do so well on his first attempt.

"Agreed," Ezra said, snapping his eyes back to hers with a small smile, "consider this a verbal agreement that amends our contract. Snacks for dresses."

Blair laughed, shaking her head as she stood and grabbed her things.

"Alright boss," she sighed, "let's get to work. I have projects to wrap up and transition, and you have CEO things to do."

"Indeed," Ezra laughed, opening the door and sweeping his hand forward dramatically.

"You're going to be a handful," Blair snorted, leading the way, "I can already tell."

"Well," Ezra drawled as he pressed the button for the elevator, "at least you won't be bored."

"No," Blair agreed with a huff, "I suppose I won't."

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