Author's Note: Welcome to my second fic! Mostly, it's exploring a "what if" idea that crossed my mind recently. Honestly, this piece is my heart, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Please note that I take some liberties with canon. I don't believe Monica, in canon, is 100% how I portray her in this story, and it's highly unlikely this would actually happen. As always, suspend disbelief. There will be some Jo x Blair stuff, but that won't be the main focus of this story. (Also, this is a multi-chapter story! Just letting that be known now.)

Blair always longed for a good, solid family of her own. Good and solid being the operative words. There's no denying that her own family wasn't terrible, but as a child, Blair recognized that they'd never be like a normal family, whatever that was. Her mother was more of a friend than a parent - popping in and out at her convenience, sometimes forgetting Blair even existed - while her father saw her as merely a cog in the Warner Textiles machine. Love was conditional with him. One step out of line and she'd be considered a disappointment - not a "true Warner." Granted, they both had their moments, but Blair longed for something...simpler. A family that was just that - a family.

Sometimes, she'd imagine her own little family. She'd be married to someone truly kind - the type of person who says what they mean and does what they say, and they'd live in a cozy cottage (Blair's version of "cozy cottage" being significantly different from the norm with at least four bedrooms, a pool, a garden, two living rooms...). They would only have one kid - a girl named Edna. The name was a bit old-fashioned, but Mrs. Garrett deserved a namesake. In Blair's mind, Edna had gorgeous blonde hair, like herself, and the most beautiful green eyes. She was bright, inquisitive, and compassionate. With so many gifts, Edna naturally took part in all the extra-curriculars. Blair would be there for every recital, match, speech, and performance. Her daughter's biggest fan, she always let her know that she was supported and loved. Blair would be a constant Edna could depend on, and their little family would be happier than any she'd ever known.

In an ideal world, that's how Blair imagined her future family to be, but as we all know, the world hardly ever follows our idea of what "ideal" should be, and Blair, certainly, never counted on what would happen on Christmas Eve, 1985.

CHRISTMAS EVE, 1985

"I don't want her."

Blair was stunned by her mother's words. Time and time again, Monica had expressed how happy she was that she made the decision to bring this baby into the world, and now, after everything, she was tossing her aside as if she were last year's Valentino.

"You can't be serious!" Blair interjected, a disbelieving laugh huffing from her chest.

"Blair..." This was a conversation Monica hadn't prepared for, but knowing her daughter, she knew that she couldn't have prepared for it anyways. Now, more then ever, Blair was unpredictable. Just when Monica thought she had a handle on her, she ended up surprising her completely. Admittedly, it was her own fault. Monica only saw her daughter, at most, a few times a year. She visited when she could, but there was never enough time for all the traveling, functions, and parenthood. While she adored her daughter, Monica recognized that the place she held in her life now was but peripheral. She had an extremely small hand in the beautiful young lady Blair had grown into.

"Try to understand, darling, that baby deserves more care and attention than I'll ever able to give her. Sure, I could hire a nanny - that's easy! But a nanny can't replace a mother. Bailey deserves a mother - a real mother, and that's just...something I'm not."

Blair sank onto the bed, "Yes you are...you're my mother."

"Oh sweetheart," leaning forward, Monica lovingly tucked a strand of hair behind her daughter's ear, "I may be your mother, but let's be honest, I certainly don't act like it." She had her moments - like now, comforting a shocked Blair - but motherhood was more than the occasional 'moment.'

"Who says how a mother is supposed to act? I can't imagine having any other mother but you."

"Oh, Blair, darling...I got lucky with you. I mean, you practically raised yourself! And if I'm being frank, you deserved more than that. You might think it was fine, but...my beautiful girl, you deserved so much more than I gave you."

Blair stared straight ahead, letting it all sink in. While she didn't want to admit that her mother was right, well...she was right. Childhood for Blair was a string of nannies and imaginary friends. It's not something she liked to think about, but she was lonely.

"So...what will happen to Bailey?"

"Well, she'll be adopted, of course. I have a friend, Marjorie, who works with an agency, and I just know she'll do her best to find Bailey the most loving home!"

An agency...it sounded so clinical.

"Will we...will we be able to see her? Visit her?"

"It depends on the family, darling, but I'll talk to Marjorie. I'm sure she'll be able to find a couple who would be open to it."

Something about all of this didn't sit right with Blair. For starters, she already had a vision of what it would be like having a baby sister. She had plans - like taking Bailey to Bloomingdale's for her very first mink, going to Rockefeller Center for iceskating and hot chocolate, catching tea at the Plaza, playing hide and seek with the Four Musketeers. Everything she imagined didn't have another family involved. She was supposed to be Bailey's family.

She was supposed to be Bailey's family.

"Mother...what if I adopted Bailey?"

"What? Darling, we've already discussed this-"

"Yes, but you never gave me a proper answer."

"Well, I...Blair, taking care of a child is an enormous responsibility! You're only twenty years old!"

"You weren't that much older when you had me!"

"That's right, Darling, but I was married-"

"So? You were gonna be a single mother with Bailey!"

"Yes, but Blair, I have a steady income, an established home-"

"And so do I!"

"Your father's money doesn't count."

"Okay, well...I have a home!"

"With three other girls!"

"And Mrs. Garrett!"

"Blair-"

"Look...Mother," Blair put on her business-voice, "all my life, do you know what I wanted more than anything in the world? My own family. And I still want that. More than anything. And I think...I think this could be my chance. I know it sounds crazy, but I don't know...it all feels sort of...meant to be, and you're right! I don't have a job, I'm still in college...the circumstances aren't ideal, but what I do know is that I already love Bailey more than I ever thought I could love another human being. Looking at her...I know that I'll do whatever I can to make sure she is safe and healthy and happy. No one in the world will love that baby more than I already do. So, Mother, please...let me take her home. Let me be her family. Let me give her the life she deserves."

As her daughter spoke, Monica grew further in awe of the woman she'd become. It wasn't just the words she said but the conviction with which she said them. There was a confidence in Blair that was different from the confidence she put on as an act. She was calm and sure of herself as if she'd already seen the next twenty years and knew that it would all be okay.

"What happens to Bailey when you have to go to class?"

"Mrs. Garrett will watch her. Plus, there are five of us living in that house, six if you count George. He's around enough as it is. There'll be plenty of people to help out if I need it. Which, I won't. At least, most of the time I'll be all right, but if I were to need help...I've got a good group of people behind me."

"But Blair, honey...what about your future? Once you have a child...everything changes. You're no longer making decisions just for yourself. You're making decisions for you and the baby. You're going to have to make sacrifices-"

"I know. I know it's going to be hard, and there are things I'll want that I won't be able to have, but in the end, none of that matters as long as I've got Bailey."

"Well, it certainly sounds like you've made up your mind..."

Blair simply nodded, trying not to let her mother see just how nervous she was beneath her steadied exterior.

"My beautiful baby girl..." Monica leaned back, examining her daughter, "...no, you're not a baby anymore. You haven't been for quite some time."

After a lengthy pause in which it seemed as if hours had gone by, Monica reached out to Blair, gently taking her hand, "I trust you, darling. If you say that you're the right choice to adopt Bailey, then I say...agreed."

Blair's mouth hung open in shock before her face lit up with a beatific smile, "Really?"

"Really. I can't imagine her having a more loving home than you."

"Oh, Mother!" Unable to speak, Blair attacked Monica with a bear hug, letting her tears of joy flow freely down her face. She didn't need to worry about her makeup falling apart since it had already worn off hours ago.

"Just one thing, darling, that I want you to remember. It's okay to accept help, in fact, I encourage it! Don't think you have to do this all by yourself. Of course, you can always ask your father and I if you ever need anything."

"It's okay," Blair pulled away, letting Monica mop up her tears, "With Jo and Mrs. Garrett and Natalie and Tootie...I think we'll be all right."

LATER THAT NIGHT

Now that Monica was asleep, Blair took the opportunity to spend some quality time with Bailey...her daughter.

Daughter! That didn't feel quite right. After all, Bailey was her sister. Sister. Yes, that's what she'd stick with for now. Anything else felt...wrong.

As she lost herself deep in thought about what exactly her position was as Bailey's guardian, Blair didn't notice a pair of squeaky sneakers coming up behind her.

"Hey, stranger!"

"Oh, GOD!" She jumped. "Jo! You almost scared me half to death!"

"Then I'll try again and this time I'll finish the job."

"Jo!" Blair swatted at her best friend.

"You know...she's not half bad." Looking down at Bailey, Jo's cockeyed smile and warm voice betrayed the casual nature of her words. She'd always had a soft spot for kids - Blair had figured that out from the start. When they were at Eastland, the younger girls looked up to Jo, and she was always good with them - helping them out with homework, teaching them some kind of sports stance, listening to them when they needed it. She was a role model without even trying. That was just...Jo.

"Wait, what are you doing here? Visiting hours ended a while ago."

"Yeah, well...I'm your ride, remember?"

"Ah, that's right. I guess I forgot..." Blair trailed off, her mind running at a mile a minute. She didn't think this through. Naturally, she thought Jo and everyone else would be 100% behind her decision to adopt Bailey, but now that Jo was right in front of her...well, let's just say reality was hitting Blair real quick.

"You okay?"

"Me? Yes, of course, I'm okay! Why wouldn't I be okay? Do I not seem okay to you?"

"Uh...not really. Blair, you're sweating like a pig. What's going on?"

"I don't sweat, I glisten!"

"Blair-"

"Jo, don't! Don't use that voice with me."

"What do you mean? That's just my voice!"

"Well, don't!"

"Don't use my voice?"

"No, don't sound like...like...like you're not going to lecture me and look at me with those disapproving eyes whenever I tell you what I'm going to tell you!"

"Blair..."

"What did I just say?"

"Goddamnit, Blair! What's going on?"

A cry pierced the room.

"Look what you did!" Blair picked up Bailey and gently rocked her.

"What I did? You're the one who looks like she just killed a man!"

Blair gasped, "I do not!"

"You look in the mirror lately?"

Quite frankly, she hadn't. She honestly thought that everyone was gone for the night. There was no need for her to touch up until the morning.

"Regardless, I'm not the one who woke up Bailey with my barbaric yelling."

"Well, maybe I wouldn't have been yelling, if you'd just tell me what the fu-" Jo looked at the baby, "-dge is going on!"

"I don't want to."

"You said you were gonna tell me something."

"Did I? I don't recall!"

"You know what? If you're gonna be like that, fine. Whatever it is, I don't wanna know." Jo stuck her hands in her pockets and walked towards the door, "I'll be waiting in the lobby."

"Wait!"

"Yes?"

Blair paused, unable to say it.

"Lobby." Jo reiterated and had her hand on the doorknob, about to turn when three words stopped her.

"I adopted Bailey!"

"What?"

"I...adopted Bailey."

There. She said it. Now that it was out there, Jo could lecture Blair about how stupid she was being, how she'd regret it by tomorrow, how there's a perfectly good family out there who'd be happy to welcome Bailey into their home.

But instead of a lecture, Blair was greeted with silence. Silence that was even worse than a lecture.

"Jo..." She looked at her friend with pleading eyes, begging her to say something - anything! Anything would be better than this. While Blair could usually tell what Jo was thinking, in this moment, it was impossible.

After quite a few starts and stops, Jo finally uttered a single word, "How?"

Placing Bailey back into her bassinet, Blair slumped onto the couch, Jo following her. "I don't even know. I mean, my mother said she didn't want Bailey anymore, and I just...Jo, I wanted this baby so badly..."

"I know."

"Just the thought of losing her...I couldn't handle it, and the next thing I knew..."

"You adopted her."

"Right."

"God, Blair, I really...I don't know what to say...you're sure about this?"

That was the big question. Was she sure? You know, in the moment, she was. Absolutely. But now...more than anything else, Blair was worried she wouldn't live up to expectations, that she wouldn't be able to give Bailey everything she'd promised. Bailey deserved to live the best life, and what if Blair couldn't actually give that to her? It's easy to make a promise, but sometimes it's even easier to break it.

"No...yes! Yes. I mean yes. Yes, I'm sure, but Jo...oh, Jo, I'm so scared." For the first time in years, Blair broke down in front of her best friend, sobbing into her dark blue coat.

"Hey...hey..." Jo enveloped Blair in a secure and firm hug.

"Jo, your coat!" Blair sniffled as she realized she was getting snot all over Jo's shoulder.

"It's okay. I wore this baby to the Springsteen concert last year. It's seen worse."

Blair returned to her sobbing and for a good hour, they stayed like that. Jo, holding her best friend as she cried her eyes out.

It's funny. While Blair hated being vulnerable in front of Jo, she's also the only person Blair felt safe enough to be like that with (besides Mrs. Garrett, of course). For some reason, there was this unspoken respect they'd built up over the years, so Blair knew she was safe with her friend. Plus, Jo's presence was soothing but also straightforward. She didn't bullshit Blair, and that's something she appreciated. She also wouldn't let her pity herself for too long, which is what Blair needed to keep her moving forward.

But right now, Jo was just there for her. Plain and simple. She chuckled quietly to herself as her coat was soaked through from Blair's tears. It wasn't often that she cried in front of her. In fact, Jo couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Blair cry. Actually, wait, she could. It was after Ben broke up with Blair. He'd met a girl up in Alaska and ended things with her through a letter simply saying, "Sorry." Jo wouldn't have found out about it if she hadn't caught Blair crying with the letter, tear-stained, on her bed. As soon as Jo came in, she tried to hide it, but eventually, she came clean and told her everything. Blair always kept so much inside...sometimes Jo just couldn't understand why.

The sobbing slowed to a series of deep breaths, and Jo rubbed Blair's back as she breathed in...and out.

"Better?"

Blair looked up at Jo and gave a half-hearted smile, "Yes."

"Good."

As she was crying, Blair had shot through every single thought she could possibly have about this whole situation, and at the end of it all, one thought remained: Bailey. From the moment she saw the hair on her head, Blair knew she was hers and vice versa. Who knew what would come next? All Blair needed to know was that she loved Bailey with all her heart and was going to do her best to give her a happy life.

"Jo..."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"You know."

And to that, Jo got one of her little grins - the kind of grin that said everything without a word.

"Hey, Blair?"

"Yes?"

"You're gonna be okay. I promise."

Exhausted, Blair nuzzled into the crook of Jo's neck as her eyes fluttered shut. Once again, they stayed like that for an hour. Jo securely holding her friend as she prepared herself for the next 18 years.