Author's Note: Although this story (belatedly) fulfills the first prompt from the third Chair Week – post-season six finale – it was also written for the prompt of Chuck and Blair's wedding reception sent to me by uppereastsidedreaming and an anonymous person on tumblr and Moozanna's request to see Blair tell her father about her second marriage.
His fingers continue to trail up and down her shoulder, and he is careful not to snag the snake head of his wedding band on the delicate detailing of her dress as the magnitude of the statement settles over those assembled in the room. Her eyes dart around the room trying to gauge the reaction of all those assembled: Dorota's look of disbelief as she takes another drink of her vodka tonic, Georgina's frown over no one believing that she could have been Gossip Girl all along, Serena's wide grin and bright eyes as she clutches Dan's hand.
And then Blair tips her head, glances up to see the content smile on her husband's – her husband! – face, and she cannot suppress the way the way the corners of her mouth lift into a smile as she leans into his embrace. The chime and buzz of a half a dozen cell phones interrupts the silence, the blissful moment, and all eyes dart to Dan as those assembled fumble to retrieve their cell phones.
"It wasn't me," Dan protests throwing up his hands like a man being questioned by the police.
Blair scowls in his direction at the reminder of what he subjected them to for the more than six years before leaning further into Chuck's embrace to read the message on the screen of his phone. Her lips twisted into a smile as she announces to her friends and the Humphreys that Lily and Eleanor are headed to the Empire with their purchases from Citerella to set up for the reception; her statement a reiteration of the electronic invitation retrieved by all but two people assembled in the room.
"Miss Blair, I call Vanya," Dorota announces as she moves to her feet. "Get him and Larissa to help with set up."
"Just so long as you and Vanya stay afterwards as guests," Blair replies as she gathers her train in her hand in order to avoid stepping on it as she pushes herself up off the couch. "I need happy couples at my reception. Preferably ones who don't see stalking as a love letter."
"B," Serena replies tersely to Blair's doe-eyed innocence, and she shakes her head as Blair flexes her power and starts firing off instructions to those assembled in order to make the wedding reception a reality.
Georgina is put in charge of purchasing a cake from Blair's favorite bakery, and the eager way Jack offers to accompany her attracts the suspicion of both the Queen of the Upper East Side and her king. Disinclined to spend the rest of the evening with those who used his daughter and then banished her from her home, Rufus excuses him from attending the party causing Blair's face to distort in disbelief because she can't imagine why Rufus would think he's invited.
Her final edicts – an invitation for Nate and Serena to ride in the limo to the reception with them followed by a reminder to Dan that he's not invited – causes a wave of disgust to cross Serena's face, and Blair tilts her head and purses her lips expecting Serena to come the defense of Dan and his love letter once more.
"Blair, you and Chuck just got married," Nate interjects before Serena can respond with uncharacteristic understanding of the situation. "We all know how much you two enjoy a limo."
Blair glances over her shoulder at the man still seated with one arm draped over the back of the couch and a knowing smirk on his lips. The limo ride back to the Waldorf penthouse after their release from police custody supports Nate's statement, after all, and Serena shudders when she catches the unbashful and knowing look shared between husband and wife.
"Just wash your hands before you join all of us in the Crystal Room, okay?" Serena pleads as she follows Nate and Dan to the elevator.
"Just wash yourself of the Humphreys before you join us in the Crystal Room, okay?" Blair calls after Serena as the doors of the elevator slide shut. Chuck moves to stand beside her, works at buttoning his white suit coat in the process, and Blair turns towards him, steps closer to him until their noises are mere inches apart.
Hot, heavy breathes pass between them, dance on each other's skin as Blair snakes her hand up to cup his cheek, as she runs her thumb along his jawline and reminds him of the visuals she has been forced to hold onto for so long. The aide-mémoire causes Chuck's eyes to flutter shut, causes his breath to catch, and he painfully swallows the lump in his throat as he pulls her hand from his face and reminds Blair of the promise she made to him whilst they waited in the police station.
"Fine," Blair snaps in reply stomping away from Chuck towards the elevator. She mutters angrily under her breath as she jams the call button for the elevator about how she's married for less than twenty-four hours and is already being subjected to a sex fast. She eyes him angrily as they take the elevator from the penthouse to the ground floor, and he saunters silently behind her clutching her train in his hand as she heads for the limo waiting out front.
The flashes of light are blinding; the mob of photographers ebb and flow around them like a wave intent on crushing them. And their hands search for each other amidst the sea of questions because they are each other's anchor in the storm, because they keep each other afloat as they push through the crowd.
"Did you kill your father, Mister Bass? Any comment on the charge that your marriage is a cover-up?"
Chuck presses his hand against the small of her Blair's back, helps to adjust her dress around her as she settles into the back of the limo, and with one last look of disgust at the mob of paparazzi surrounding the car, he slides into the car beside her and slams the door shut. He can see the fear creeping into the corners of her eyes as the car lurches from the curb and speeds down Fifth Avenue. A painful memory from a year ago flashes to the forefront of his mind when he feels her hand clasps around his leg to keep from flying forward as Arthur slams on the breaks at the red light.
"Slow down, Arthur," Chuck growls as he reaches to hold Blair's hand in his own, and he shifts his gaze from the reflection of the man nodding his head in the rear view mirror to the woman seated on his left clutching his hand. He presses his lips to hers, revels in the feeling of her hand moving to stroke against the nape of his neck as she presses her back against the seat and her hips into him.
The kiss is meant to distract her, to calm her as the paparazzi buzzes around the limo but, as always, she turns the tables on him with fingers that gently stroke against the nape his neck. Blair knows exactly where to press, where to touch to crumble his resolve and chase all cohesive thoughts out of his head. A complete and utter distraction because being with her, touching her, loving her is all he can think about.
It is the hand that slides against his thigh, the fingers that bump against the hard plastic of his cell phone that remind him of what he was so insistent she do. Chuck moves his lips from hers pressing them against the corner of her mouth followed by her cheek before finally hovering them beside her ear.
"Call him. You don't want him finding out this way."
With a purr of protest, Blair extracts her hand from where it rests curled around his thigh and holds it palm upward in a gesture for Chuck to hand over his cellphone. The styling of her dress coupled with the lack of a purse means she's currently living sans cellphone, and she makes a mental note to get hers back from Serena at the reception as she dials the memorized number and holds the phone to her ear.
"Hello?" The familiar voice is tinged with confusion, and still Blair smiles at the sound. She leans forward in her seat, plays with the fabric of her dress as Chuck slumps back against the leather seat and watches her.
"Hi, Daddy," Blair greets as Chuck places his hand against the small of her back. A comforting weight meant to remind her of how he supports her; a cold touch meant to calm the fire fueled by worry currently building inside her.
"Blair Bear," Harold breathes happily into the phone, and Blair guesses he has moved the phone from his hear to check the number once more when his voice drops low, when he suddenly sounds far more distant than three thousand, six hundred and twenty miles that already separate them. "Did you change your number?"
"It's Chuck's, Daddy."
"Chuck's?" Her father asks cautiously, and Blair's eyes dart to find those of her husband's as she confirmed for her father that, yes, she is with Chuck. "So he's okay then? Roman saw on the news that his plane disappeared off of Martha's Vineyard, and then we heard that Bart Bass—"
"Chuck's fine," Blair interrupts quickly because she does not want to rehash the events of last night, especially since the relationship between parent-child is not protected in a court of law. "Actually, he's more than fine. He and I are married."
"Married?" Harold croaks uncomfortably. He repeats himself but before Blair can confirm the accuracy of what her father heard, there is the telltale rustle on the other end as Roman takes the phone from Harold's hand and interjects himself into the conversation.
"Blair, how exciting," Roman croons in his heavily-accented English. "When you returned to the chateau without him last summer—Silly me, I should know by now not to underestimate Blair Waldorf."
The rustle on the other end, the muffled voices of Roman chastising her father in French on the other end causes Blair's shoulders to droop, and she offers a forced smile to her husband as she waits for her father to come back on the line. Her eyes close, and she releases a shaky breath when she hears Harold on the other end because she's not exactly sure how to tell her father that Chuck was wanted for questioning in connection to Bart's death and she was wanted for questioning as a possible accomplice.
"The timing of this wouldn't have anything to do with Bart's death, would it, Blair?"
"I pled the fifth," Blair says. The statement curls upward at the end into a question mark, but she shakes it away, clings onto the truth that she can share. "I love Chuck, Daddy. I was tired of waiting. Every bone in my body wants to be with him, and I refuse to deny it or kill my feelings any longer."
The long pause is uncomfortable, and Blair shifts in her seat just as the limo turns onto Central Park West. The action causes her to lose her balance, and Chuck reaches out, curls his hand around her arm to keep her upright in her seat. But it is her father – the man who called the attorney for the House of Grimaldi and helped pack her bags when she got the call from Jack last summer during his visit to see her in Paris – that offers her the support she's looking for as he sighs into the phone, as he states that he can certainly understand that feeling.
"I just don't want you to get hurt, Blair Bear," Harold confesses softly as the limo pulls to a stop in front of the Empire Hotel.
"I can't promise that I won't," Blair replies as she reaches up to press her fingers – the streetlight streaming in from the back window casting a brilliant glow as it bounces off her new rings – against Chuck's cheek. "But I think it's more important that I'm the happiest I've ever been, which Chuck makes me."
Chuck's smile – the one he only shows her, the one that shows the small gap in his front two teeth – distracts her from the rest of the conversation, and she is saying her goodbyes and making promises to visit as soon as possible and bring her delectable husband – Roman's words – with her. And as the call ends with a click, Blair leans forward to place a kiss against Chuck's cheek.
"I love you, Chuck," she murmurs as her fingers slide to press against his skin, to trap the sensation for him. Blair smiles as she moves away from him; her face brightening as an idea dawns. "You know, we could have Arthur take a trip around the block for—"
The knock against the glass interrupts her mid-sentence, and she turns to glare at the blonde standing outside the limo.
"Come on, you two. Vanya and the rest of the doormen are holding back the paparazzi so you can come inside."
Blair huffs in annoyance, and Chuck leans in to capture her lips in one final kiss, to whisper promises of sooner rather than later against her lips. And eventually the new Mister and Mrs. Bass exit the limo walking hand in hand past the paparazzi confined around the entrance of Clarke's into the Empire with Serena trailing closely behind clutching Blair's train.
The well-trained – or, rather well-paid – staff of the Empire Hotel offers their congratulations as the owner of the hotel and his new wife head past the bar and up the staircase towards the Crystal Room on the second floor. The Empire Hotel's event room is beautifully decorated and perfectly arranged for the small, intimate reception, and Blair beams as her mother and mother-in-law traverse the room in order to greet the focus of today's celebration.
"It looks beautiful. Thank you Mother, Lily."
"Well, if there are two things Eleanor and I know," Lily replies, "it's collecting husbands and throwing parties."
"Collecting husbands? My two to your five is hardly comparable," Eleanor replies with indignation dripping from her voice.
Her voice drops low as she hugs her daughter tight, as she finds Blair's ear and whispers about how it looks like Lily is moving on to husband number six, or do you not recount the first one. And Blair frowns as she spies William van der Woodsen standing at the open bar talking to Serena, who is standing next to Dan despite her edict that no Humphreys be allowed to attend.
"Wha—"
"We should eat before the food gets cold," Lily interjects gesturing towards the spread from Citerella neatly arranged on one of the room's sideboards. Those assembled begin to move towards the food, but Dorota – Vanya close on her heels – steps in front of the line and begins wildly waving the blue balloon in her hand.
"Miss Blair, Mister Chuck, you get married so fast that there no time to honor traditions. No time to be led in by happy couple," Dorota announces looking towards the happy couple with eyes darkened with concern. "And marriage without traditions is doomed."
"Yes, Dorota, but I had the traditional wedding and we all saw how that worked out," Blair explains slowly, and those assembled in the room shift uncomfortably at the mention of her first wedding at the celebration of her second. "And this isn't my tradition."
"I know, Miss Blair," Dorota says pulling out all the tricks working for Blair has taught her and ruthlessly tugging on everyone's heartstrings. "Please, for me?"
And then whispered words curl around her ear dancing across her heated skin as a cool hand is held out to her. Chuck's demand for her to cease arguing and dance with him met with a happy, content sigh as Blair relents and agrees to play what Dorota once explained to her as the most important game traditionally played at weddings in her home country. And she accepts the blue balloon handed to her by Vanya as Dorota clarifies the rules, announces the prize, and reminds everyone how the couple who manages to go the longest without popping their balloon will be assured a long, prosperous marriage.
"Maybe this time, you'll actually go down," Chuck says with a chuckle under his breath as Blair sandwiches the balloon between them, as she places her hands on his shoulders and he curls his around her waist.
"You're the one who insisted I call my father instead of using the limo to our advantage," Blair recaps for her husband as he trails the back of his fingers up and down her arm. Despite the long-sleeves, the coolness of his touch still causes her skin to prickle, and she shudders slightly as they begin to sway back and forth in time to the music.
"You and I both know how much it hurts to find out important news from the internet," Chuck reminds her softly. "And I know how important Harold is to—"
The pop of Lily and William's balloon cuts off his words and moves her attention to those dancing around the room and struggling to keep their balloon from ending up on the floor like Lily and her first husband's. The difference in height between her mother and step-father provides a unique challenge yet Eleanor and Cyrus seem to be overcoming it with ease while Dorota and Vanya seem the most at ease skipping and hopping around the room as though they are attached at the hip.
Two more near-simultaneous pops exclude Dan and Serena followed by Georgina and Jack from the competition leaving just the Waldorf women, including Dorota, and their second husbands dancing around the room. And Blair smiles at her husband, flexes her hand against his shoulder as he slowly and steadily guides her around the room, and allows her gaze to drop to the ring on her finger as the light filling the room hits it.
"This is still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"It was made for you and only you," Chuck replies softly leaning in closer to her. The balloon between them compresses; the latex stretching out as the front of his legs brush against hers with every step. "I know our wedding wasn't exactly perfe—"
"It was," Blair quickly corrects reminding Chuck how he gave her a wedding with a beautiful dress, her favorite flowers, and her family and friends in attendance despite the risks. "I would have married you in that courthouse in upstate New York wearing last night's dress because I love you, Chuck."
"I love you, too," Chuck reiterates before pressing his lips to hers, and neither of them notice the sounds of two balloons popping somewhere in the room as she presses her hand against his cheek. Nor do they notice how their wedding guests begin clapping in celebration of Chuck and Blair's victory in this traditional wedding game; too wrapped up in being the deliriously happy couple they are as he whispers her new name against her lips. "Mrs. Bass."