Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl or any of its characters.
So Blair didn't marry Louis.
She didn't marry Louis, and yet here he is, sitting alone in the loft.
When he heard the news, he felt relief more than anything. It had literally felt like a fist had unclenched itself from around his lungs. He could finally breathe again.
Even after he heard the news, he didn't call her. Their last conversation at his book party had been less than ideal, and he didn't think it would be a good idea. So when he wasn't doing any press junkets or interviews or book readings, he holed up in his room and wrote. Just words. None of them made sense, and he was pretty sure none of them would string together to become his second novel.
On the days he has a publicity appearance, he shaves and eats. But on the off days—the days filled with classes and hours without Blair—he doesn't. It just seems like too much effort.
Nate isn't speaking to him. No—Nate, Rufus, Serena, and Blair aren't speaking to him. Other than Alessandra and Chuck (and Monkey, he supposes), he's alone.
Until.
"Dan?"
"Yes?" he asks, gripping his phone.
He hears her take a breath. "Can you come meet me?" And she tells him the address, and he goes.
.
.
.
When he walks into the store, he doesn't spot her immediately. Pulling back his sleeve, he worriedly glances at his watch; maybe she's running late. Looking up, his eyes catch a plush monkey on a shelf. It looks so soft, and reminds him so much of Milo, he finds himself reaching out to touch it. He lets go of the tail when his throat starts to hurt.
Turning around to the entrance, he suddenly breathes in a familiar scent. Blair. A smile instantly graces his lips, and a moment later, he finds her in the back of the store. She's wearing a heavy jacket, more for the weather than hiding her form. But even so, she doesn't look pregnant; she looks more like a career woman stopping in to buy a gift for a friend.
At first glance, she appears to be staring at a crib. But the closer he gets, the more he sees what has captured her attention. Once beside her, he follows her gaze to young couple. They're both leaning over a baby stroller, and from what the entire store can hear, the baby isn't too happy.
"What's wrong with him?" the man asks nervously.
The woman laughs. "Nothing's wrong, he's just tired." She looks tired too; Dan can see faded rings under her eyes. Her smile makes up for it though.
Dan and Blair watch as she picks up the infant, cradling him on her shoulder. As she rocks her body from side to side, she makes a soothing noise to try and calm him down.
Her husband looks on. "Are you sure? Maybe he's hungry." This guy is really freaking out, Dan notes. It reminds him of the first days with Milo. His throat starts to hurt again.
"No," the woman says, shaking her head. "This is his tired cry. He's still full; I only fed him a little bit ago. He's just exhausted, aren't you sweetie?" She's talking to the child now in a cooing tone, and it's only now that Dan looks at Blair again.
She's still drinking in the couple, analyzing their every move and word even after they walk away. Despite her blush, she still looks a bit pale, and her eyes are wide with...worry? Fear? Rapture? Awe? He can usually read her, but right now...he can't.
"Blair—"
She flinches slightly, and it surprises him. He was sure she had noticed when he walked up, but she must've forgotten. Her mind was elsewhere.
"Are...you okay?" Dan asks cautiously, resting a hand on her shoulder.
She clears her throat. "Yes," she says shortly. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You're going to figure it out. Within hours, you're going to know every cry and what it means." He stares at her for a moment, hoping to see her sigh in relief. When she doesn't, he reminds her, "You wanted me to meet you here."
She takes a breath. "Right," she says, closing her eyes for a beat. Opening them, she starts, "I was wondering—"
"Have you two looked at our wonderful new stroller collection?" The saleswoman interrupts, looking back and forth between Dan and Blair. "It just came in today. It rivals the Bugaboo and it's just marvelous!"
Dan steps forward. "Oh, we haven't gotten there yet—"
"Oh you must check it out. There's a bassinet attachment, three options for a base..."
As she rattles off, Dan looks at Blair. Her eyes have lost focus again and he can hear her breath stop.
"Ma'am?" Dan says, stopping the woman's voice. "We're going to take a look around first. When we have stroller questions, we'll be sure to find you." He looks at her nametag: Lydia.
Lydia looks a bit miffed, but with a quick nod, she's gone.
Slowly taking her hand, Dan guides her gently around the corner. "Let's just...browse. You don't need to make any decisions yet. Just look around and take everything in. And breathe."
She swallows and nods, re-grasping his hand into a more comfortable hold. The minutes go by in silence, with them looking up and down the aisles of baby items. She stops every once in a while to look at something more closely—a delicate dress, a knitted blanket, a piggy bank painted with butterflies. Her eyes move from fear to almost hopeful.
When they pass by the front counter, Blair takes a "Baby Must-Have" list, and looks down the sheet of paper. Dan watches as her breath gets more rapid the farther down the list she reads. He steals it from her.
Reluctantly letting go of her hand, he reaches in his pocket for a pen and uncaps it.
"Okay. So..." He clicks he tongue as he reads. "Well you don't need this." He crosses something off. "Or this...and...oh. This'll be a waste of money." He continues crossing things off. "This...well, Georgina hated it, but I found it to be helpful..." He draws a line through two more items and looks satisfied.
"Now, they say to start off with 4-6 pairs of socks, but...they're constantly falling off the baby's feet. So I would maybe get ten pairs. Although..." He trails off in thought. "The baby will be in footed onesies for the first few weeks, so you won't really be needing socks right away." He looks to Blair and flashes a knowing smile. "You can fight me all you want on this Waldorf, but even the most fashionable baby on the Upper East Side will be wearing onesies. Trust me, it's just easier."
The way she's staring at him reminds him to slow down.
"You have plenty of time to get all this stuff," he says quietly. "We'll get the basics today, okay?"
She speaks for the first time in a while. "Okay," she breathes out, attempting a small smile.
"Have you gotten anything yet?"
She nods. "Yeah, but nothing from this list."
"Okay." And then he takes her hand and leads her to the crib section.
.
.
.
After paying a large fee, their purchases are delivered immediately to the Penthouse. While Blair directs the deliverymen where to place everything, Dan sets out the lunch they picked up on the way home. Blair walks into the kitchen once their sandwiches are on their plates, and Dan's breath hitches at the sight of her.
Coat now shed, she's dressed in a form fitting dress. He doesn't know why he's so taken back; it's no surprise that her secret is out— he had just always seen her hiding behind loose clothes. Her belly is round and smooth; small, but not overbearing. The curves of pregnancy only show in her stomach; she looks the same everywhere else. She just looks so much more...Blair. And comfortable in her own skin. Her face has more color and life than he's seen in months and her movements are no longer stilted. Royalty had ruined her for a while; it had bound her hands behind her back and controlled her every move.
Dan watches as she moves gracefully about the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers. She has obviously gotten used to her new figure─as he watches her carefully reach up to get a plate, she avoids the edge of the counter at her baby's level. She finally stops across from where he's seated at the island and begins cutting an apple. After placing a dollop of peanut butter on the plate, she moves to sit beside him. Her belly looks more pronounced when she's sitting, and he can't tear his eyes from her.
"The only thing I've craved is this," she says with a slight chuckle, motioning to her plate. "Don't worry, I'll eat my sandwich in a minute."
He clears his throat. "How are you feeling?"
"Good." She takes a bite of apple. "Tired sometimes, but most of the time...really good."
"What are you going to do about school?"
She sighs audibly. "Well, I already took this semester off to plan the wedding...which I'm regretting now," she says, rolling her eyes. "But I'll take off next semester as well, and hopefully return in the fall."
"Have you...talked to Chuck at all?" He had, but they didn't talk about Blair or the baby.
"Yeah. We talk. He came to an appointment with me." She bites into the apple slice. When she swallows, she continues. "He's in therapy...and...really trying. And I appreciate that. At the moment, things are okay."
"Are you guys—"
"No." She's quick, honest, and to the point.
Inwardly, mentally, psychologically...he let's out a relieved sigh.
"We're okay when it comes to the baby, but that doesn't mean I've forgiven him for everything else. We still have a long way to go."
After they finish their sandwiches, Dan follows her upstairs into her room so she can change into something more comfortable.
"Is the baby going to sleep in here?" he asks casually.
Through her closet door, Blair answers. "I guess at first. I don't even know what the baby would sleep in."
He chuckles. "It's called a bassinet."
"I know that," she scoffs, opening the door quickly. "But were we not in a baby store today Daniel?"
"Relax," he says, watching her as she sits down in a chair. "You have months left."
"I feel like this is all going so fast. I mean, one second I was in Monaco, and the next I was getting sick. Then I took the test and hid it for weeks and then told you...in a bathroom. And then now, there's this—" She gestures to her stomach. "And I'm left with no fiancée or palace or father to my child. Everything has suddenly turned to shit."
The word sounds strange coming from her mouth: Blair Waldorf, soon-to-be-mother.
"Blair—" He stops for a beat. "You can't hate this baby forever. You can't raise the child in a home that constantly reminds them of that; it'll ruin them."
"I don't hate this baby," she says quickly. "I never said that."
"I know," he sighs. "I guess I was just worried you would never come to terms with this."
"Just because this wasn't planned doesn't mean I don't want it." She drops her hands instinctively to her stomach, running her hands along the curve. "I've actually started embracing it all. I mean...most days, it's just us."
She looks down at her hands and stills them, as if feeling for movement.
"Are you going to find out what you're having?" he asks quietly, oddly feeling like and outsider as he watched her.
She doesn't look up. "I already know."
"You do?"
She's smiling radiantly when she finally meets his eyes. "It's a girl."
Somehow, a girl seems perfect for her.
"Do you know what you'll name her?"
She lets out a breath. "I've thought of a few. I wanted to wait until I saw her to choose...to actually have her in my arms and see her face and just...meet her." A smile plays on her lips. "But I keep having these visions of her—or, dreams, I guess—and she always has the same name."
"Is it one from your list?"
She nods. "Yeah."
"What is it?"
"Violet."
"It's perfect." And he means it wholeheartedly.
She smiles wide. "It is, isn't it?"
"And Chuck does love the color purple." He doesn't know if that's the wrong thing to say, but thankfully, she doesn't look upset.
"I've always liked the name, but I think he'll appreciate the meaning behind it." It's silent for a moment. "Naming her makes her so real."
"Yeah...but nothing quite compares to the moment they place them in your arms," he says, thinking back to that hospital room with Milo. Like what Blair just said, it had all happened so quickly—from Georgina, to the ultrasound picture thrust in his face, to suddenly having a "son." His throat hurts again.
"Can you—" She pauses, wondering if it's too much to ask of him. Then, knowing him and deciding it wasn't, she asks again. "Can you help me put the crib together?"
Without missing a beat, "Sure."
He's pleasantly surprised when he follows her into Serena's old room—or...what used to be Serena's old room. The bed's gone, and now the walls are painted a light grey color. White crown molding flank the ceiling, delicate curtains adorn the windows. It looks to be the beginning of an elegant little girl's room.
And so they sit on the floor and piece together the crib. And then the stroller...and swing. And for the first time in a long time—sitting there on the floor with Dan—Blair feels everything is finally right.
.
.
.
A few days later, Blair enters her room slowly, dropping her purse on the floor and slipping off her bracelets and shoes. Heading to her closet to change, she stops dead in her tracks.
Placed in the corner of the room is a bassinet; a white bassinet filled with soft, lilac blankets. She picks up the card inside and feels tears fill her eyes.
This was one of the few things that was left. It was Milo's, and it deserves to be used by someone like Violet.
-Dan
Blair gasps when she sees what's placed inside the crib. It's the newest book by Dan Humphrey. A book called Violet the Pilot—a girl not afraid to follow her dreams.
.
.
.
When "the day" does come, Dan gets the call first. Not because she finds him more important than the baby's father, (they've decided he'll be like Violet's...Roman), but because she knows he has a farther commute. It only makes sense to tell him first.
The second call is to Chuck, who immediately drops the phone call he's on to meet her. He's been better than she expected these past few months, and she can really tell he's going to put all his effort into being the father Bart never was.
And Violet. She's unbelievable in every way. From her chestnut wisps of hair to her bow lips to her kissable cheeks. Six pounds of perfect. Dan was right. None of it became real until she was in her arms.
And suddenly, where Blair was between those two men didn't seem so important anymore. It was just them.
A/N: I'd like to thank Sarabrowncolorado and my wonderful beta Spiros for reading over this first :) You two make me a better writer!
I would love to hear your thoughts. Good and bad. :)
*Note: Violet the Pilot is actually by Steve Breen. Title by Coldplay.
