Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They belong to Cecily von Zeigesar and The CW.
This promises to be a short story. It really has no point, nor do I intend it to advance any real plot of my long running series though it does fit in just a few months after Blair gives birth to their first son Brice. It's meant to be just a fluffy look into the lives of Chuck and Blair. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think.
"Is everything alright, Beautiful," Chuck inquired as he was jolted awake by his wife's movements as she climbed back into bed. It was the middle of the night, and their room was surrounded by nothing but blackness. He was surprised that he hadn't been woken up when she left their bed as he was such a light sleeper.
"I think I caught Charlotte's flu from last week," Blair groaned as she curled herself into a ball as far away from her husband as possible.
"Are you sure it's the flu and not something else," he inquired nervously. Her past with bulimia wasn't even a thought, but the chances of her being pregnant for a third time was always a possibility. They took precautions, or rather she took precautions, but nothing aside from abstinence was fool proof. Being they were Blair and Chuck, abstinence wasn't an option.
"I'm not pregnant," she snapped.
Chuck breathed a silent sigh of relief. Charlotte was two and a half, and Brice was just barely six months old. They weren't ready to add another child to their brood.
"What do you need me to do?" he inquired as he slid closer to her and began to rub her back gently.
"Take care of our children, and keep your hands off me," she hissed.
He pulled his hand away quickly as if he'd been burned. He mentally began cursing himself. He knew better. She was not pleasant when ill, and she hated to be touched.
There were few times in their relationship in which she didn't like him touching her, the first was when she was very pregnant and on the verge of giving birth and the second was when she was ill. He hated both cases as he always craved her. When she was pregnant it was easy to quell his cravings, but not when she was ill.
"Do you need some club soda?" he inquired as he pushed her apparent rejection out of his mind.
"I need you to leave me alone," she growled as a violent shiver ravaged her body, "And pile on all the blankets in the penthouse. I'm freezing."
Chuck quickly pulled all the bedcovers high over her shoulders and then went into the hall closet to pull out additional blankets as she requested. When he returned to the bedroom the covers had been thrown off and she was nowhere in sight. He heard her in the bathroom and groaned. She truly was sick. After laying out all the blankets on the bed in preparation for her inevitable return, he went into the kitchen and retrieved all the remedies they'd stocked up on while Charlotte had been ill the week prior.
He couldn't help but feel guilty. She'd taken care of Charlotte while he'd been in charge of Brice's care. It was one of the rare moments in which their daughter preferred her mother's care to his. They'd kept the duties separate until Charlotte was no longer contagious so that they wouldn't pass along her bug to Brice. It made sense that Blair was the one to get sick.
Returning to their bedroom once more, she was back in bed with the covers pulled completely over her head. He set down the supplies, retrieved a trashcan from their bathroom, and then gave her the space she always needed when ill. It killed him to do so, but it was what she always wanted.
He made his way into Brice's room to check on his soundly sleep infant son. He studied him closely. He looked every bit like himself. From the chisel chin to the natural scowl on his face, even in sleep, he was the spitting image of Chuck, though when awake he always had a mischievous grin on his face. He was a quiet child, very pensive and observant. He was always scanning his surroundings as if trying to figure out how this world he'd entered worked. Blair had already pronounced that he was going to have his father's intelligence.
Though Chuck had never been good with schooling it wasn't because he wasn't capable. He wasn't interested. He'd lost interest in elementary school mostly because he learned everything so quickly that he grew bored with the teacher's repetitiveness and tuned them out. He preferred to go at his own pace and spent most of his time reading what was being taught rather than listening to instructions.
Chuck gingerly picked Brice up, hoping to not wake him. Just before he turned away from the crib, the tiny red light of baby monitor caught his attention. He quickly turned it off so he would not disturb Blair before he made his way towards the rocking chair in the corner of the room near the window. It was the same chair he spent countless hours rocking Charlotte a few years earlier.
"I never imagined I'd say this just a few short years ago, Little Man, but I love being a father to you and Charlotte," he spoke softly so as to not awake Brice. "I love it almost as much as making love to your beautiful mother, which you'll come to realize is saying a lot."
Brice hiccupped softly as his eyes began to flutter open. Chuck tried to summon the anger that he knew he should feel for waking his son up, but he couldn't do it. Brice's only reaction was to shoot off his mischievous grin as he stretched in his father's arms.
"You get that grin from me," Chuck cooed, "I see why your mother thought it was trouble for so many years. I'm not going to be able to deny you anything, not that I've ever had any intention of doing so anyways. You'll both figure it out soon enough, but I'm going to be the push over. Mommy is going to be the stern one, though don't you or Charlotte get any ideas. I might be a push over, but I will be stern when I need to be. You will not be getting away with any of the things your mother and I did."
Brice laughed in response. Whether he was laughing at his father remained to be seen, but the sound brought out his father's laugh as well.
"I should start telling you stories of your Grandfather Bart. He was a complicated man, and we had a complicated relationship, but we had good times, a few anyways. I want you to know about those," he told him, "There was this time when I was very young. I don't even remember how old I was, perhaps before I had met your mother even. Bart came home from work with tickets to a New York Rangers game. I'd never seen a hockey game before. I couldn't even have told you what the point was, but he bundled me up in my warmest winter coat and stuffed me into his limo, and we went to the game. I remember being too afraid to do or say anything, so when he cheered, I cheered, when he cursed, I cursed. The old man thought it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard when my first curse word tumbled from my lips.
"A responsible parent would be cursing themselves out for teaching me the word, but not Bart. He was laughing so hard that I thought he was going to fall out of his seat. It was such a foreign sound to me as I'm not so sure that wasn't the first time I'd ever heard him laugh, and because he laughed, I laughed.
"Bart bought me a hotdog and cotton candy. I ended up with mustard on my shirt and blue sugar streaks across my face. I thought he would scold me for being messy, but he merely wiped my shirt and face and ruffled my hair.
"After the game, he bought me a foam finger and carried me back to the waiting limo on his shoulders. It was the best day of my life up to that point. Somehow it became something of a ritual outing for us – once a year he'd take me to a sporting event or just dinner. He'd drop his guard, and we'd just talk.
"To this day, I do not know what inspired his father-son bonding moments, but I've always remembered them with perfect clarity in a way I remember little else aside from my life with your mother.
"If Bart was still here, I believe spending time with you and Charlotte would have melted his heart completely, and we could have had father-son-grandfather moments that you'd surely remember for the rest of your life.
"When you get a little older, I'll start having those father-son moments with you," Chuck told him as Brice gave a healthy yawn as he appeared to be falling back to sleep. "But one thing I will promise is those bonding moments will not be the extent of our relationship like it was for me and Bart. I love you little man."
Brice's eyes drifted closed as he fell back to sleep. Chuck carefully repositioned him against his shoulder so that he was in a more comfortable position and closed his eyes as well. It would be morning, with the sun shining brightly into his son's bedroom before he'd wake to the feeling of Charlotte tapping his knee to get his attention.
"Daddy, Mommy sick," Charlotte frowned.
"I know, Sweetheart," Chuck told her as he stood up slowly to return Brice to his crib. "We're going to let Mommy stay in bed today to get better, so it will be you, me, and Brice today."
"No Brice," she pouted in her cute little Waldorf pout that Chuck adored as much on Charlotte as he did on her mother years earlier.
"Yes, Brice," he chuckled as he bent down to pick her up. Charlotte had done well with adjusting to Brice and all the attention that he received when he first came home, but that was when she was receiving as many gifts as he was. As the newness of having Brice around wore off, she was finding creative ways of putting herself in the spotlight. While she hadn't resorted to hiding Brice as he vaguely remembered hearing Serena do when Eric came into the picture, she did act out and throw tantrums unlike her previous demeanor. Blair and Chuck took it all in stride. They let her have her tantrum and then would punish her with a time out, but they also made sure to devote time to her after the fact as clearly their little girl was feeling neglected.
Charlotte continued to pout as she hugged his neck tightly in hopes that her natural charm would wear on her daddy enough to change his mind.
"What do you think we should do with Brice today?" Chuck inquired as he turned and looked out the window to see the sun shining brightly. Clearly it would be a good day to do something outside.
Charlotte shrugged her shoulders as her pout disappeared. She hadn't missing Chuck's need to include Brice, but she knew by his tone that he wasn't going to change his mind either.
"How about we go see the penguins at Central Park," he suggested. He knew before he spoke the words that she would begin to cheer in excitement, and she didn't disappoint. Since the first time he took her to the park as an infant, it had always been her favorite outdoors activity next to the carousel. With only himself to watch over the pair, he knew that wasn't going to be an option. "How about you have Dorota help you get dressed while I check in on Mommy and get ready myself?"
She nodded eagerly as he put her down. She dashed from the room calling out to the maid for help.
Chuck shook his head with laughter as he looked in on Brice once more before he left him to get dressed for the day.
"How you feeling, Beautiful?" Chuck inquired as he pressed his lips to Blair's forehead as he stepped in to check on her.
"Awful," she muttered.
"I'm sorry," he apologized, though there wasn't anything he could do to make her feel better.
"Did Charlotte find you?" she inquired as she rolled onto her back, "She came in looking for attention. I sent her to find you."
"She found me," he nodded, "I'm taking her and Brice to the park to see the penguins once everyone is ready for the day. It looks to be a beautiful day outside."
"I wish I could go with you," she pouted in the same way their daughter did minutes earlier. She loved the family outings in Central Park.
"We wish you could too," he nodded as he stroked her hair away from her face.
"Make sure you remember Charlotte's stuffed penguin," Blair advised him, "She doesn't need another one. She has three already. She certainly doesn't need her own foamed flock."
"I'll remember," he responded as he mentally made a note to include one of the stuffed animals from Charlotte's bedroom.
"And make sure Brice wears a hat to cover his head and that you take the stroller with the shade to cover him. He doesn't need to be getting a sunburn at his age," Blair added as her motherly tone came out despite her illness.
"I know how to take care of our children as well as you," he reminded her.
"I know," she sighed, "I'm not trying to imply that you aren't capable. We're a team, and I'm reminding you as a member of the team."
"I'll leave Dorota here to take care of you," Chuck told her.
"Are you sure you can handle them both on your own?" Blair inquired hesitantly. "You'll be outnumbered."
"I'll be fine. It's just Charlotte and Brice, how bad could it get," he laughed as he kissed her forehead again, "Get some rest."
TBC . . .
