Mr Sandman, a gossip girl fanfic

Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl, or any of the characters, or the song 'Mr Sandman'

A/N- It's Sunday night, I'm bored and awaiting the next season of Gossip Girl. So to give you a little idea of when this is set, it's in the future (obviously) and follows on from what's happened during season 1, and is based very loosely on a few spoilers I've heard concerning season 2. Hope you enjoy, and please review :)

Mr Sandman

"They named him what?" Blair asked again in disbelief as Serena recited the name of her new baby half-brother down the phone.

"Cassius Jasper Henry Isaac Bass." Serena repeated proudly.

"And you'll call him..." Blair trailed off, waiting for some kind of ridiculous shortened version of Cassius. What could you do with Cassius anyway? Other than make into Cassie, which was of course, a girl's name and therefore totally inappropriate.

"Isaac." She told the brunette.

"Isaac?" Blair frowned. "All those names and you'll call him Isaac?"

"Yeah, after Bart's father. My mom said he was big in the hotel business or something..."

"So let me get this straight." Blair confirmed. "I make the congratulations card out to Bart and Lily on the birth of Isaac?"

"See? It wasn't such a mouthful right? My mom was a little worried that the name was maybe..."

"Ridiculous?" Blair offered.

"Or too long."

"What? Cassuis Jasper Henry Isaac? No, sounds fine to me." Blair rolled her eyes. "He'll fit right in."

"That's what I said. So you'll visit, and maybe, you can have a hold?"

"A hold of what?"

"The baby."

"I'm wearing Elie Saab."

"So change."

"Into what? Prada, Valentino, Versace?"

"Or those juicy sweat pants you pretend not to have hidden in your closet."

"I'll drop the card by and leave. Maybe I'll have a little look at him. From a distance." She added, trying to ignore the sweat pants comment. "But no holding. I don't want vomit on me even if it is your brother."

And so it was on August 12th 2009, Isaac's birthday, that Blair Waldorf officially decided she would not, and could not ever have children. They were just too...gross.

Blair's literature assignment was going...well it just wasn't going, that was the problem. She'd read Beowulf over and over and yet not one word made sense. She wasn't even sure she'd encountered anything to do with a symbolism throughout the whole thing, and now her assignment was to describe the symbolism of the sword.

Serena had read the book (or poem, as they'd been informed it was – though what kind of a poem could possibly be 300 pages long Blair wasn't sure) only once, yet had completed her assignment days ago, notifying her friend via text that, even with her baby brother screaming in the other room, she somehow "just knew" what to write.

Blair wishes it could only be that easy for her.

Serena doesn't answer her dramatic call for help, and Blair being Blair, fails to take this as a warning that the blonde might be busy, slinging her new purse over her shoulder, books in hand as she heads over to The Palace for help. And martini.

The apartment Serena shares with her extended family is eerily quiet for an evening, Blair considers, knocking twice before entering, just like she always has done. But the sight she's met with isn't like anything she's ever seen before.

Chuck is there, dressed in horrific tartan pyjama pants and a white t-shirt, cradling his baby brother in his arms, and in a bid to get him to sleep, singing the worst rendition of 'Mr Sandman' Blair's ever heard. And for a while, he doesn't notice her, only turning when Isaac wrinkles his nose at her before erupting into sharp screaming.

"I think that's literally the worst effect on somebody you've ever had." Chuck muses as Blair rolls her eyes, placing her books down on the sideboard so she can cover her ears a little.

"I didn't know lullabies were your forte." She replies, wondering just how anyone could possibly live with a child. The few minutes she'd shared a room with Isaac before that night had been quite possibly the noisiest of her life.

"They're not."

"Clearly."

"I wasn't the one who made him cry."

"Well you weren't the one getting him to sleep either."

"I was doing just fine until you showed up." Chuck answers somewhat annoyed. Perhaps it's the embarrassment from her catching him singing. In pyjamas. With a baby in his arms.

"So where's Serena?" Blair sighs. "And come to think of it, where's Lily? And is she whacked out on PPD medication or something letting you babysit?"

"Serena and Lily are dining at Le Bernardin with my father before he flies out to Rome on business in the morning. I offered to give them a break from baby puke and milk so that they could have a civilised dinner. For a small fee of course." Chuck adds. "May I be of assistance?"

"Well that's very civilised of you." Blair offers sarcastically. "And no, it's Serena's help I require, not yours." Her voice is raised above Isaac's screaming, and unable to take it any longer, makes a frustrated grunt, holding her hands out to take the baby from Chuck.

"You're wearing Hermes."

"So?"

"So, you used to insist on folding such items after I'd removed them when we..." He raises his eyebrows as he finished the sentence "were getting it on", and Blair fakes vomiting, secretly thrilled that he'd acknowledged her immaculate appearance.

"Just pass him to me."

She tries rocking and shushing and throwing insults at Chuck to see whether her banter receives any appreciation, but as her efforts go unrewarded, thrusts Isaac back to him with her nose curled in disgust.

"It's the diaper."

"What? No. Lily said she changed him just before she left."

"Smell him if you don't believe me."

"No."

"Smell him."

"No."

"It stinks."

"Blair." Chuck grits his teeth.

"You can't leave him like that."

"We could just pretend we haven't noticed."

"Isn't that like child abuse or something?"

"No."

"Don't you have a nanny?"

"Only on weekends."

"Then you're going to have to change him."

"I didn't sign on for this."

"He's your brother."

"So?"

"So aren't you supposed to do it for the love?"

"I don't think so."

Blair shakes her head as Isaac continues to cry incessantly. "Give him here."

"What?"

"Well someone's going to have to change him and you're not making any effort."

"I don't know how to change a diaper – I've never done it before."

"And you think I have?"

"You're a girl."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Isn't it in your genes to know how to do this kind of thing?"

"Like the same way it's in your genes to be less of a pussy and more of a man?"

"I'm not a pussy."

Chuck frowns when Blair makes a kind of laughing/snorting sound. "How about we try doing it together?"

"How many people does it take to do this kind of thing?" Chuck asks.

"I don't know, but maybe we'll be stronger as a team. I could pin him down while you get it off."

"He's not a criminal wearing a stolen jacket you know."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well the 'pin him down' thing was a bit of a rubbish plan considering he weighs like, 17 pounds."

Blair rolls her eyes. "Are we doing this or not?"

"Not?"

"Just be a man and get it over with." Blair demands, pointing to Isaac's nursery.

"Fine." Chuck grumbles. "But if I pass out and have to go to the emergency room, I'm suing you for hospital expenses."

Just because they managed a quick exchange without any conflict doesn't mean Blair's forgiven Chuck. It just means that for five minutes, she hadn't thought about the night he cheated on her.

She can still hate him. She maybe just doesn't have to prove it at every available opportunity.

"I think I got it right." Chuck says, emerging from the nursery with a much-quieter Isaac dangling from his arms, a diaper hanging precariously around his waist.

"Are you sure?" Blair asks. "It looks a little...loose."

"It's fine." He replies, swinging Isaac from side to side. "See? Perfect."

"Then shouldn't you re-dress him?"

"In what?"

"I don't know, maybe...pants?" She returns sarcastically. Chuck's making it too easy.

"His pants have funny popper things on them. There's no buttons."

"They're poppers." Blair says deadpan. "All you do is pop them together."

"Well if it's that simple, you do it." Chuck tells her, handing the little boy to her. She recoils as her presses a sticky chubby finger onto her cheek, probably the result of Chuck failing to clean him up properly after a bottle or something...

Blair feels a bit funny when she finishes dressing Isaac and he smiles at her, giggling and kicking his legs. She's not sure she likes being around him, but she doesn't totally hate it, and maybe the weird feeling is just surprise.

"You're lucky, you know that?" She says softly, picking the baby up as he gabbles away. "You've got a Mom and a dad, and that's pretty good-going these days. You've got a sister that will always watch out for you." It's somewhat soothing, Blair finds, to keep talking as

Isaac settles against her. "And your brother loves you, even if he is a total ass to everybody else."

The baby gurgles and sucks his fingers, and Blair begins to relax, falling into a rocking rhythm as his eyes stay closed for longer during blinks.

"I always wanted a baby sister or brother like you." She continues. "I wanted to teach them how to play dress-up, and how to put on makeup...I always thought it'd be nice to watch out for someone, because I never really had that.

When she turns to find Chuck stood in the doorway, Blair quickly stops talking, dips her head and hands Isaac to him, rushing towards the sideboard to gather her books.

"I should leave you to do your own babysitting."

"Why? Things were going well." Chuck indicates Isaac, who, even with the sudden change of arms, is happy settled.

"Because I just remembered I have something to do."

"Like what?"

"Like my assignment due the day after tomorrow."

"I'll help."

"It's literature."

"I can read."

"Porn doesn't count as reading."

"It's GQ."

"It's not literature."

"I beg to differ."

Blair shrugs. "The assignment is on Beowulf."

"Beo-who?"

"See? Ill-it-er-ate." She stresses each symbol, much to Chuck's annoyance.

"I'm playing dumb." Chuck tells her.

"It's not classed as playing when it's something you already are."

"I know what Beowulf is about."

"Really?" She has her eyebrows raised in waiting, tapping her foot faux-impatiently on the floor.

"Long boring poem about swords and dragons, makes hardly any sense, confuses everybody by starting the first name of every damn character with the letter B."

"It's a good letter."

"It's a stupid idea."

"Go on."

"Running themes are as follows: pride, heroism, love, acceptance..."

"You've read it?" Blair asks in surprise.

"Last year on the plane when we went skiing in Aspen."

"I thought Nate was sitting with you on that plane?"

"He switched with Serena so he could sit with you, remember?"

"No."

"Well, I'd packed it as a last resort in case Nate was preoccupied with you. Which was in fact, the case."

"Well why didn't you talk with Serena."

He doesn't tell her it's because she spent the whole time asking him things about Nate that his girlfriend's best friend shouldn't be asking. He leaves out the bit where Serena asked him if he thought Nate really did love Blair, and he fails to recite what Nate had told him once about the blonde who was now his step-sister.

"She was boring me."

"And Beowulf was more interesting?"

"What can I say? Sometimes I prefer the company of a book to an over-excited party girl."

Blair shrugs, not really sure what to make of it all. Her eyes flit to Isaac, who is now sound asleep in Chuck's arms, and then she looks at him, directly in the eye for the first time since he told her about Amelia.

"You should probably put him in the crib so we don't disturb him."

Chuck smirks. "I like where this is leading."

"Well it's not leading to the bedroom. So keep your pants on, mouth shut and your hands to yourself."

"Can I keep them on myself."

Blair narrows her eyes. "You disgust me."

And yet, she half smiles when his back is turned, because they're almost back to how they were, and she thinks, that as friends now, the hurting in her chest won't be quite as strong, and maybe her nights will be less sleepless, less lonely, and more peaceful.

It's funny, Blair thinks, because even after everything, she still likes Chuck Bass. She still likes being around him, still wants to be around him. He's the spark for her fire, the sinner to her saint, the passion to her punch. He's just a little...(well, a lot) self-absorbed, self-propelled, selfish to be good enough for her. But she likes that; always has, most definitely always will.

"We should make more of an effort to hang out like we used to." Chuck says, handing Blair a mug of fresh coffee, as the words leave his mouth intended almost as a passing comment, yet they both know this isn't the case because it's not simply just a comment and they're not just passing.

Blair ignores her burning desire to scream that it's his fault they don't hang out and settles instead with "We never really hung out all that often anyway. Only when Nate was busy."

"Which was a lot." Chuck adds.

They're taking a break from studying, because for the past half hour Blair's been moaning that she doesn't get it and probably never will, and Chuck isn't sure he can take any more of her winning. Coffee had seemed like the only solution.

"So how are things with the moral-less sluts you insist on screwing?"

"What?" He stutters.

"You heard me. And you said we should make more of an effort to be like we used to be. So I'm asking you a question about your life." Blair explains. "Like friends do."

She thinks she saw him shudder when she used the world 'friend'.

"So how are things with you and your whores?"

"Exceedingly well. How are things with the trust fund losers you insist on accompanying to garden parties?"

"Fine."

If this was Serena and Dan's argument, she'd laugh and make fun, because it's ridiculous and Blair knows it. But it's her defence and she thinks that if it were to fail, she'd be ruined because even though she wants to be here with him right now, just being with Chuck hurts more than she had anticipated.

Isaac's crying from the nursery saves her. It's the first time she's been thankful for a baby interrupting anything ever.

"I'll get him." Blair says quickly before Chuck has the chance to get up. But she still catches the expression of disappointment and regret across his face. It only makes her feel worse.

He watches her again in the doorway, silently of course, impressed yet not really that surprised at Blair's maternal instincts.

He'd always imagined she'd be the mother that, as children, neither of them had had. He'd imagined that she'd be the one who tried (and failed) to make the cookies for bake sales, ending up instead with the finest gourmet produce on offer at any of Manhattan's movie-style bakeries.

He'd imagined that she'd be the one to watch every ballet recital, attend every swimming gala and be the one to take the kids trick-or-treating on Halloween, dressed to perfection in a cat woman outfit, or maybe as Juliet or Audrey Hepburn, or any other fabulous icon she could ever be.

And then Chuck feels guilty for just watching her.

"Imagine what ours could be like."

"Our what?"

"Kids."

"Let me stop you right there." Blair demands. "Our kids do not, and will not ever exist. I'm not going to be the one held responsible for another Chuck Bass. The world doesn't want it and neither do I. So you can keep your little men at home in your body, not mine because I refuse to be sperminated. Especially by you."

He's slightly offended and slightly amused at the same time. "I bet you wouldn't say that to Nate."

She just shakes her head, not yes, not no. She's just kind of mad at him for bringing them up because they don't exist anymore, and therefore there can't be an our anything.

Isaac's still crying and it's hurting her ears.

"Try singing, he likes that."

"I don't sing." Blair replies. It's true, she doesn't. Never in the shower, not as she dresses, not even when her favourite songs are playing. Maybe only ever in her head, and she figures that doesn't really count for much.

"Just try."

"You try."

"I can't sing."

"Well I seem to recall something along the lines of Mr Sandman earlier."

"That was for Isaac's ears only."

"Go ahead. I'm not listening."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"You just listened to me there."

"Well it's hard to hear above the screaming anyway." She glares at the baby. Truth is, she just wants ammo for the next next he tries to embarrass her.

"Mr Sandman..." Chuck begins, trying not to sound too uneasy. "Bring me a dream..."

Blair bites her tongue to keep from laughing.

"Make her the cutest, that I've ever seen."

She can't help it, and a snigger escapes Blair's lips, followed by a cough to cover up as Chuck continues, rocking Isaac as he sings.

"...Please turn on your magic beam, Mr Sandman, bring me a dream..."

The little boy's crying quietens, and Blair turns herself away, staring around the room at photos of Lily and Bart with Isaac, of Serena holding him as a newborn proudly, and of the one with him, Chuck and Eric, taken fairly recently.

She can feel her eyes getting heavier and her body relaxing, and as she exits the room, sitting herself on the couch on the living room, Chuck follows, settling down beside her, still singing quietly as Isaac falls to sleep.

"Give her the word that I'm not a rover..." He looks at Blair, and she can't help but watch him with quivering lips that she has to bite gently to keep from doing something they shouldn't.

"...Then tell her that her lonesome nights are over..."

She rests her head on his arm, only because she's just realised how tired she is, closing her eyes as Chuck keeps singing, and somehow, it's not funny anymore.

She lets him move his arm so that it's around her waist, only because it's more comfortable as he rests his head on top of hers.

"...Mr Sandman, bring me a dream..."

Serena stops laughing as soon as she enters the room. As much as she loves her little brother, to have had a night away from his crying has been a blessing.

Lily smiles as she watches the chest of her baby boy rise up and down, perfectly in sync with that of his big brother's, and Serena slides open the drawer of the bureau for the cashmere blanket she knows is there for moments like this.

Draping it over Chuck and Blair as Lily scoops Isaac from Chuck's arms, Serena shakes her head at the pair, wishing they'd just admit how they really felt about each other. She knows Blair still loves him, and she knows Chuck's crazy for her.

And knowing that peace will be shattered upon the moment of Blair waking, she snaps open her phone, taking a picture as proof that, even if it's only while they're asleep, the two look picture-perfect together.

Hitting the save button, Serena smiles, knowing there'll be no mention of this in the morning as Blair mumbles something along the lines of "Mr Sandman" and Chuck involuntarily kisses her hair.