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A/N: This epilogue takes place almost two years after the last chapter. Rated M, for serious sexy business. If that's not your thing… the last scene is still rated T, and works fine on its own.

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December 2013

Blair hummed to herself as she lit the last remaining candles, arranging them in a semi-circle on the polished wooden dresser. After ensuring that they were positioned just right, their flickering yellow flames reflected in the dresser mirror, she took a step back to admire the muted glow they cast over the bedroom.

It was tasteful and romantic, she decided. Sexy without looking like a cheap romance novel.

She fluffed up the satin pillows she'd scattered across the bedsheets, before turning her attention to the bedside table. She'd laid out a selection of silk scarves, some massage oil, and a few of her other favorite accessories. Just in case they were feeling creative.

Although given the mood she was in right now, it didn't seem likely. Chuck had been overseas on business the week before, and then she'd been swamped with final exams and projects, so they'd barely seen each other in two weeks.

Two weeks, without sex.

This near-unprecedented dry spell wasn't the only reason she'd managed to finish up her last paper a day early- but it had definitely been a motivating factor.

He'd be lucky if he even made it past the foyer with his pants on, she thought with a wicked smirk.

She took one last glance in the mirror, smoothing a hand over her mahogany curls. She'd arranged them into a loose updo, teasing out a few ringlets to draw attention to the curve of her neck. The red silk babydoll emphasized her breasts, which swelled alluringly above lace-trimmed cups, the sheer chiffon skirt skimming over the rest of her curves. Her lips were tinted a deep red to match, a layer of gloss highlighting their pouty fullness.

And she'd left a trail of perfume for him to follow, leaving light dabs along her neck, down between her breasts, over to her hipbone, finally ending on the soft skin of her inner thigh. Not that he generally needed any nudging in that direction, of course… but a little encouragement never hurt.

Nodding in approval at her reflection, she went over her mental checklist one last time.

Staging- check. Costuming- check.

Naughty text message- sent.

For dinner, she'd ordered a selection of Chuck's favorites from Le Cirque, which the staff was currently setting up out in the living room.

And dessert was already taken care of, nestled in a silver bucket of ice next to the bed. The cannister of whipped cream did look rather… awkward in there, she thought, eying it critically. But what it lacked in form, it more than made up for in functionality.

Feeling assured that her plan was foolproof, she let herself relax a little. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation of the evening ahead, and her cheeks tinted pink as she envisioned Chuck tearing the lingerie off and ravishing her eager body. Just the mental image alone was enough to produce a pooling of heat between her thighs.

She sat down on the bed and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Only fifteen more minutes, she thought, unable to suppress a giddy little smile of excitement.

.


.

Chuck stepped off the elevator, swiping one hand tiredly through his hair before shrugging out of his wool overcoat and hanging it in the closet. Negotiations with the German investment group had dragged on late into the evening, with the two parties locked in a disagreement over his expansion plan for hours. Even though they'd eventually conceded, he felt drained, grumpy, and in desperate need of a drink.

He came to a sudden halt, his brow furrowing in confusion at the unexpected aroma in the air.

It smelled like… steak.

He would have guessed that Nate had ordered takeout, but he was away at a lacrosse tournament. The only other person with access to the penthouse was Blair, and she had made it quite clear that she was not to be disturbed until she turned in her econ paper tomorrow. So the meaty aroma in his apartment was somewhat of a mystery.

He continued into the living room and spied a table set for two in the center of the room. Two domed plates sat on its surface, along with an unopened bottle of his favorite French Bordeaux. In the center of the table was a platter of untouched oysters, floating sadly in a pool of mostly-melted ice, along with a dish of caviar and toast points. He lifted up one dome lid to reveal a perfectly medium-rare, but ice cold, New York strip steak. The rest of the plate was empty, although traces of mashed potatoes and creamed spinach were still visible.

After lifting up the other dome to find the scant remains of a Black Cod fillet, his suspicions were confirmed.

Blair was here. And she was probably- definitely- not happy with him. And he had no idea why.

Making his way back down the hallway, he reached his bedroom and turned the knob, quietly nudging open the door in case she was already asleep.

But instead of a peacefully slumbering Blair, he found a quietly fuming one. She was sitting up in bed reading, a mass of pillows propped behind her back, a skimpy red silk robe tied around her body. She didn't even look up as he entered, glowering down at her book until he half-expected her to bore a hole in it with her eyes.

He took a quick glance around the room, noting the candles burned down almost to their stubs. The faint scent of incense lingered in the air, and the nightstand drawer- which they fondly referred to as their "naughty drawer"- was slightly ajar, as if it'd been slammed shut.

"Looks like I'm late for the party," he commented in a neutral tone, removing his suit jacket and draping it on the back of his leather armchair.

Her eyes flashed up at him furiously, and he was reminded once again of just how sexy Blair looked when she was pissed. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shone with ire, and her breasts were… well, heaving, for lack of a better term.

Chuck allowed his gaze to linger, enjoying the way the creamy swells rose and fell with each indignant breath she took.

"Oh, the party's over," she replied haughtily, snapping the next page of her book over without even looking at it. "Don't worry, though, it was still perfectly fun without you."

"Was it now?" he murmured. He took a few steps closer to the bed, eying the outline of her body under the robe intently. "Well, I would certainly be interested in a recap."

Blair narrowed her eyes at him.

"Unfortunately, you forfeited that opportunity when you decided to come home four hours late and not even bother telling me," she snapped. "So I hope you enjoyed your business meeting."

The amount of disgust she infused into the words made it sound like he'd been smoking meth in a gutter, not negotiating a multi-million-dollar deal with European hoteliers.

"I'm sorry, and how exactly was I supposed to know you expected me home four hours ago?" he queried, eyebrows raised. "You specifically told me to not even think about bothering you until you turned in your last final."

"Because I texted you this afternoon." She blew out a frustrated breath. "And don't pretend you didn't get it, you and I both know you can't go five minutes without checking your phone-"

"You didn't text me," he interrupted, pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it over to her.

She glared at him briefly before looking for herself.

"This doesn't mean anything, you could've just deleted it," she said dismissively, tossing it onto the bed.

"Why would I have done that?" he wanted to know. "Maybe you should take a look at your phone and make sure that you actually sent it."

Blair rolled her eyes.

"I'm not an idiot, Chuck." She retrieved her phone from the nightstand and began scrolling through her messages. "I know how to send a…"

Her voice trailed off as confusion replaced the indignation on her face.

"You were saying?" he prodded her.

"But I know I sent it to you …" She shook her head, her eyes widening in alarm. "Oh my God."

"You sent it to someone else," he realized, unable to conceal the mirth in his voice.

"But… how could…" she sputtered.

"Some Android phones have a bug in their text messaging software, so when you click on a contact, it takes you to another one instead." He shrugged and gave her a wry grin. "Maybe if you'd listened to me about upgrading-"

"Oh my God," she repeated disgustedly, still staring at her phone.

"So… who did you send it to?" he asked, his eyes dancing with amusement.

.


.

Dan had just settled down on the sofa, a steaming mug of hot cocoa in one hand and the latest issue of the New Yorker in the other, ready to relax after a long afternoon of studying for finals.

He suddenly noticed his phone on the coffee table, the indicator light blinking green.

Must've left it here all day, he thought. Flipping it open, he clicked on the incoming text message.

Require your cock ASAP. Be at the penthouse at 8. This is not negotiable. Love, B.

He choked on his drink, spewing droplets of cocoa all over the screen.

.


.

Chuck snorted with laughter.

"Poor little Humphrey," he said, watching with amusement as Blair hurriedly typed out another text message- Wrong number. Plz disregard. "You're lucky he didn't try to take you up on it."

"Ugh." Blair grimaced. "Perish the thought."

"What did your message say, exactly?" he asked curiously, his brow furrowing as a sudden thought occurred to him. "You didn't send a photo, did you?"

That possibility, he realized, was where his amusement ended.

"Of course not." She rolled her eyes. "I'm not exactly the picture of sex appeal at the moment, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Ah, but that's where we disagree," he countered, skimming one finger across her collarbone and watching the trail of goosebumps that followed. "Because I happen to find you very, very sexy at the moment…"

Once she was sufficiently distracted, he reached in and snatched the phone from her grip.

He read her first message aloud, delighting in the flush of embarrassment that crept up her neck to her cheeks.

"Well, I feel like I should be offended by you treating me like… a piece of meat," he commented, grinning when she blushed even further. "But under the circumstances, I'm willing to let it slide."

Her glare indicated that she was clearly not enjoying his amusement at her expense.

"Sorry, not in the mood anymore," she shot back, pulling her robe tighter across her chest.

"Is that so?" He set the phone on the nightstand and took a seat on the bed, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. He smirked when she scooted away from him.

He did so enjoy this particular game.

"I told you, I took care of things myself," she replied haughtily, her breath catching when he traced his fingers down the side of her neck, down between her breasts to the tie of her robe. He undid it in one smooth motion and slid the silky fabric over her shoulders, pausing to admire the lingerie as it was revealed.

"Mmm," he hummed his approval, tracing along one slender strap with the back of his finger. "Is this new?"

"Maybe," she responded in a petulant tone.

She kept her eyes fixed over his shoulder, pretending to be unaffected by his touch.

But when he leaned in and pressed a kiss against her neck, right under her jawbone, he could feel her pulse racing against his lips. He continued kissing his way down to her shoulder, feeling her neck arch back against his hand.

"You smell incredible," he murmured into her skin.

When he slid his hand down to cup her breast, rubbing his thumb against her nipple with slow, lazy circles until he could feel it peak through the silk, he heard the soft purr in her throat that she couldn't quite contain.

"So…" he said huskily, lips still pressed to her neck. "You took care of things yourself, hmm?"

"That's right," she replied, a breathless note to her voice.

"And what were you thinking about," he murmured, "while you were touching yourself?"

He continued to fondle her breast, savoring the warm weight in his hand and teasing her nipple between his fingers. He scraped his teeth lightly on the delicate skin of her neck and felt her shudder against him.

"You," she finally admitted.

Her hands clenched into the bedsheets as he ran his tongue across the tender flesh. With unhurried movements, he began undoing the ribbon tie holding her negligee closed.

"And what was I doing?" His mouth continued its exploration southward, moving along the upper slope of her cleavage. "Making love to you?"

She stiffened beneath him.

"Chuck, what did I tell you about that phrase-"

"That it's for boring middle-aged married couples and Viagra commercials," He recited, chuckling. "Well then… was I fucking you?" he continued in a low voice. He finally pulled open the front of her negligee, cupping her bare breasts with both hands and gazing down at her figure with open appreciation.

"Yes," she sighed happily, her eyes fluttering closed.

He leaned down to take one taut nipple into his mouth and she arched her back, unable to contain a soft moan. They were so sensitive- sometimes unbearably so- but right now his gentle suckling was sending throbs of pleasure straight to her core.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, urging him on, and he moved down to place wet, open-mouthed kisses along the rounded curve of her belly.

He lingered there, running his hands over the increasingly pronounced swell and regarding it with a mixture of affection and awe. Despite her initial insecurities, she'd soon discovered that he was quite fond of her new curves... if anything, he actually seemed to find them arousing.

But while she adored the attention, she was much too impatient to appreciate it right now.

"Enough foreplay, Bass," she commanded. "Get to the good stuff."

She felt him smile against her stomach.

"My my, aren't we demanding today," he teased. With painstakingly slow movements, he kissed his way down to her hips, then brushed his lips against her inner thighs- first one, then the other. She could feel his breath stirring the soft curls between them, and had to restrain herself from bucking upwards to meet his mouth.

Finally, he pressed his lips against her very center, his tongue darting out to taste her. She moaned in approval, her head rolling back against the pillows as he began lapping at her with rhythmic strokes. Sliding his hand up her thigh, he deftly parted her folds- slipping first one, and then two fingers inside of her.

"Fuck, Blair, you're so wet," he groaned.

He plunged his fingers into her with slow, gentle thrusts while he lapped at her swollen clit- and her body responded to the rush of pleasure surging through her, arching instinctively towards its source.

"Oh God, yes," she let out in a broken whisper. Her fingers clenched in his hair as she moved her hips in rhythm with his movements.

But he grasped her thigh with his other hand, holding her in place while he continued his delicious torment- every lick and stroke intensifying the tight, coiling need building inside of her.

In only a couple of minutes, she felt herself rapidly approaching her peak. Her body shook with ecstasy as she came undone beneath him, her gratified whimpers echoing throughout the bedroom.

Dazed and still quivering with aftershocks, she felt him kiss his way back up her body, deftly shedding his own clothing along the way. And she watched, breathless with anticipation, as he finally removed his boxers. His rigid shaft jutted between them, and she reached down to take it into her hand.

Caressing him with long, smooth strokes, she reveled in its length, and thickness, and heat; the soft, velvety skin; the way it grew even harder in her grasp. His eyelids fluttered shut as she stroked him, his lips parting to release a low moan.

Soon his features tightened from the effort of maintaining control, and he pulled her hand away. Grasping both wrists with his hands, he raised them over her head, pinning them to the pillow with one of his.

He gazed down at her exposed body, his eyes heavy-lidded with lust. With his free hand, he rubbed the head of his cock across her opening, smirking in satisfaction when she whined impatiently.

"You know, patience is a virtue," he informed her, smirking when she glared back at him.

Realizing that this strategy would only make him tease her further, she quickly switched gears. Slowly, provocatively, she trailed her gaze over his body, sinking her teeth into her plump lower lip with a look of repressed longing. She pretended to struggle against his restraining hands, her back arching upwards towards his darkening eyes- before letting out a low moan of submission and allowing her head to roll back onto the pillow.

She could hear his sharp intake of breath moments before his lips claimed hers, his tongue thrusting aggressively against her own.

Gotcha, she thought triumphantly.

Then with one smooth, deliberate motion, he thrust into her, and she gasped into his mouth at the sensation- at the exquisite fullness of having him buried inside of her. He released her wrists to pull back and grip her hips with both hands, controlling the speed and depth of his thrusts.

Her body responded eagerly to the primal motion, her hips bucking against his, her hands clutching at his back. His cock slid back and forth inside her with such delicious friction, she felt electricity tingling through every one of her nerve endings.

But he kept his rhythm slow, his thrusts gentle, despite her attempts to urge him on.

"Harder," she whispered desperately.

She slid her hands down to grip his buttocks and pull him in further, mewing in frustration when he didn't comply.

"Chuck, please," she begged.

He leaned forward to prop himself on his forearm next to her head, his thrusts slowing to a halt.

"Blair, I don't…" he whispered, his eyes closing in pleasurable agony as her inner muscles tightened around him. "I don't want to hurt the baby."

She blinked in surprise.

"But the doctor said-"

"I know, I just… I don't want to take the risk," he insisted softly.

"Okay," she murmured. She slid her hands up to either side of his face, pulling him in for a deep kiss. As their tongues danced together, she could feel him twitch inside of her and she purred low in her throat.

With their mouths still fused together, he resumed his movements, tilting her pelvis against him while he rocked his hips gently into hers. She ran her hands down his neck to his chest, combing lightly through the coarse hair sprinkled across it and savoring the feeling of his smooth, hot skin under her fingertips.

Suddenly he pulled his bead back, just far enough to look at her- and she found herself caught in his gaze, mesmerized by the barely-controlled hunger in his eyes.

Still staring into her eyes, he deepened his thrusts, but only a little, and kept going at the same maddening, tantalizingly slow pace. Blair moaned softly, tightening her legs around his waist and digging her heels into the back of his thighs.

Her entire body was straining towards release- it was barely, just barely out of reach…

Just as she thought she might go out of her mind with want, she began to feel the first swells of an orgasm rising inside her. She undulated against him in desperation, but he continued thrusting at the same tempo, his teeth digging into his lower lip as he struggled to restrain himself.

Yet the feeling continued to intensify, growing stronger and stronger until she was shuddering uncontrollably beneath him. Her muscles clenched around him as the blissful sensation pulsed through her body, her own wanton moans echoing in her ears... turning into broken whimpers as the waves of pleasure refused to subside.

Through a haze of ecstasy, she felt his fingers clench on her thigh. His teeth sank into her skin, his hips rocking into her with tight, erratic thrusts- until finally he choked out a low groan into her neck, shuddering as he came deep inside of her.

He stayed propped up on his forearm for several moments, breathing heavily against her cheek, before rolling them both to the side. He kept their bodies connected- her thigh draped around his waist, his hand sliding up to tangle in her hair.

"I'm sorry if it's not as… satisfying for you like that," he said against her ear, and she couldn't help smiling at the distaste in his voice.

"It was great," she said breathily.

She decided not to mention that it had been one of the most intense orgasms of her life. He was far too smug about his bedroom skills as it was, and she didn't want him to become complacent.

"I just… I wanted to be careful," he said in a quiet voice, nuzzling against her cheek.

Every time she thought she couldn't possibly love him any more than she already did, he managed to prove her wrong, she thought. Trailing her fingers over his shoulder and up his neck, she caressed the back of his neck.

"I do too," she whispered. "But we talked to the doctor, and she said it was fine…"

"I know, I just… I don't want to take any chances. If I did something to…. " He swallowed, sliding his hand down to rest along the side of her belly. "I would never forgive myself," he finished in a low voice.

She nodded and drew his face up to hers, giving him a lingering kiss.

"I love you," she said against his mouth.

She felt him smile.

"I love you too," he murmured, pulling back to look at her, his dark eyes appearing almost black in the soft candlelight.

They remained like that for several minutes before he finally withdrew, a soft sound of protest falling from her lips as they separated.

He nudged her over onto her other side and drew her back against his chest- legs intertwined, her head tucked underneath his chin, his hand curved gently around her stomach. They fit together so perfectly, she thought, her mind foggy with post-coital bliss.

"You'd better go ahead and line up a sitter for six weeks, to the day, after this baby is born," he said, twining their fingers together over her belly. "Because you and I-" He paused to place a kiss on the top of her head "-are going to be fucking each other senseless all night long."

Blair inhaled sharply, their interlaced hands jumping slightly over her stomach.

Chuck made a surprised sound. "Did he just kick in response to-"

"Yes," she sighed. "Yes, he did."

"That's my boy," he said proudly.

Blair rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile tugging at the edges of her lips. Snuggling back against him, she let her head relax into the pillow, and succumbed to sleep.

.


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She stirred several hours later, rolling over and instinctively reaching across the bed. But when her hands touched only cool sheets, she blinked, and pushed herself up to a sitting position with one hand to look around the dark, quiet room. There was no sign of Chuck.

The clock on the nightstand read 3:05am.

Tossing the covers aside, Blair swung her legs to the side of the bed and set her feet on the floor, shivering slightly as she felt the cool air on her naked skin. After eyeing her flimsy little silk robe with skepticism, she settled instead on one of Chuck's soft cotton undershirts and a pair of his silk pajama pants, rolling them around her hips so the legs didn't drag on the floor.

Padding out of the bedroom, her bare feet silent against the carpet, she spotted him immediately. He was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the far end of the living room, his figure silhouetted against the Manhattan skyline. He stared pensively out at the city with his hands in the pockets of his robe, seemingly unaware of her presence.

Blair leaned against the doorframe, her eyes trailing lovingly over his familiar form. She felt a surge of affection towards him as she remembered an evening not quite four months ago…

.

He was swirling a glass of scotch in his hands, taking a long, smooth swallow of the amber liquid as he stared out at the gleaming cityscape. And she was following the movement with her eyes, her heart pounding nervously in her chest.

Glancing down once again to the plastic stick clenched in her trembling hands, she reminded herself that this was good news. Sure, they hadn't planned it. And their lives were incredibly hectic at the moment- she was balancing a full course load with a fulltime internship at Vogue, and he'd been working overtime for months on his European expansion plans. They hadn't even had time to start planning the wedding yet.

And part of her was worried that she was about to throw a giant wrench into the works just when their relationship was finally perfect.

There wasn't a day that went by when she didn't reflect on how lucky they were. That their love had proved stronger than all the hurt, and the anger, and the lies that had nearly torn them apart.

It hadn't been quick, and it certainly hadn't been easy. It had taken months of therapy to rebuild the trust between them, to give each other time and space to heal. To overcome the defenses he'd put up and convince him that she wanted him, that she chose him, and had chosen him for life.

For a year and a half, their relationship had been rock-solid. They were deeply in love and absolutely devoted to each other, and no one who spent even five minutes in their presence could doubt it. Serena had said as much to Blair during a conversation a few weeks ago: "You two are forever, B. You'd have to be an idiot not to see that."

But now she was about to tell Chuck something that would change both of their lives forever, and she was suddenly overcome with fear. Fear that this would dredge up the most painful period of their history, reopening wounds that had finally healed. Fear that it would bring back all of his doubts and insecurities about their relationship.

Fear that maybe he wouldn't really want a baby. At least, not right now. Maybe he would put on a good show of it, for her sake- but he was only 22 years old and just starting to establish himself in the business world. And this had never been part of their plan.

Taking a deep breath, Blair made her way towards her fiancé, feeling her legs shake beneath her.

"Hey," he said in his low drawl, seeing her reflection in the window. He turned to greet her, a contented smile softening his features. "How was your bath?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His gaze sharpened over her anxious expression and he frowned in concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked, placing his glass on the bar table and reaching out to take her hand in his.

Encountering the plastic stick clutched firmly in her fist, he looked down in confusion- and then recognition suddenly dawned in his eyes.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted out.

"You're…" he trailed off, looking like all the breath had left his body.

"… pregnant," she repeated, more quietly this time.

Her teeth sank nervously into her lower lip as her eyes scanned his face, seeking any sign of his reaction.

It was a little unfair, she knew- she'd had a good twenty minutes to freak out alone in the bathroom, and he'd had all of ten seconds to process it.

"You're pregnant," he echoed in a stunned voice. "You're having a baby. With me."

Blair furrowed her brow. "No, with Dan Humphrey," she replied in mock-annoyance. "Of course I'm having a baby with you!"

Chuck's gaze lifted to meet hers. And the moment she saw his eyes, shining with wonder and elation, she knew her fears had been unfounded.

The expression on his face, lit up with sheer, unbridled joy- it was an expression she knew she'd remember for the rest of her life.

Every trace of her hesitation vanished, and she found herself grinning back at him like an idiot.

Breathing audibly, he turned their intertwined hands over and looked down at the stick, as if to reassure himself that it was actually true.

The blue plus symbol was unmistakable.

They both stared at it for a moment in reverence, their hands clasped tightly together.

All of a sudden, Chuck cleared his throat. "So, just to be clear…" He gestured towards the stick they were both holding, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a wry smile. "You peed on this?"

"Yup," she replied happily.

"Just checking," he replied wryly, and pulled her into a tender kiss.

He followed it with more and more fervent kisses until they were both left nearly breathless. Then he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her so tightly that she felt her feet leave the ground. For the space of several seconds, she was floating in his arms.

"We're having a baby," she whispered into his shoulder, blinking back tears from her eyes.

She felt him take a deep, unsteady breath, and he pulled back to rest his forehead against hers. She could feel the rapid thump of his heartbeat, the slight tremble of his hand as it curled around hers.

"I love you so much, Blair," he murmured.

"I love you too," she said quietly.

The feeling was so intense, so overwhelming, she thought her heart might actually burst out of her chest.

They remained locked in that embrace for what might have been hours, just holding each other. Savoring the perfection of the moment.

.

Blair smiled, a warm feeling of contentment welling up inside her at the memory.

Quietly clearing her throat so he would be aware of her presence, she made her way towards Chuck. Lost in thought, he didn't notice her until she was right next to him.

"Hey," he murmured in surprise, sliding one arm around her shoulders and drawing her against him. "You're supposed to be in bed."

"You know I don't sleep well without you," she responded with a little smile.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest, enjoying his comforting scent and the warmth of his body. She could tell something was bothering him, but she wasn't going to push him to talk about it. She knew he would tell her if it were important.

"How was your appointment today?" he asked after a long silence, rubbing one hand across the side of her belly. "I meant to ask you as soon as I got home, but I was… distracted."

"Fine," she replied, smirking at his little innuendo. "Same as the last one."

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it," he apologized. "I tried to reschedule that board meeting this morning-"

"Chuck, you don't have to come to every single appointment, you have a company to run," she interrupted, giving him an affectionate squeeze. "Actually, it went much more smoothly without you there to interrogate the doctor about whatever you read on the Internet this week."

She could feel his offended huff against her cheek.

"I don't see how asking a few informed questions qualifies as 'interrogation,'" he said defensively.

"She also told me to tell you," Blair continued, "that there's no reason for a healthy pregnant woman to have a checkup every single week."

"Well, there's no reason not to."

"And that if you don't stop calling her cell phone after hours because my back hurts or my ankles are swollen or I seem 'unusually moody', she's going to start screening your calls," she finished, gazing up at him with equal parts affection and amusement.

Chuck breathed out a frustrated sigh.

"Maybe it's time we found you a new doctor-" he began.

"Chuck," she rebuked him gently. "Don't you think you're being just a little bit over-protective?"

That was the understatement of the century, she thought to herself. Ever since she'd found out she was pregnant, she'd had more medical care than the average person probably received in an entire lifetime. And now that she was showing, he barely allowed her to lift a finger, making sure his staff of servants accommodated her every need.

He'd even proposed that she take 'incompletes' in her classes in order to postpone the stress of finals until after the baby was born. She'd replied frostily that she would move back into her mother's house if he even dared suggest such a thing again.

She felt him take a deep breath, his chest rising and then falling under her cheek.

"I just…" He paused, his arms tightening around her. "I just want to take care of you."

"And you are," she asserted. "You're doing enough- more than enough."

"It's not enough," he insisted. "Because I can't…" He trailed off, pressing his face against the top of her head.

"You can't what?" she asked softly.

He was quiet for a long moment. He stared past her out the window, his jaw tensing almost imperceptibly.

Looking like someone with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"I can't make sure everything's okay," he admitted finally. "I can't make sure… it doesn't happen again."

She absorbed this information in silence, her heart swelling in her chest at his quiet admission.

"Why didn't you talk to me about this before?" she asked quietly.

She ran her hand up to cup his face, and his eyes fluttered closed in response. After a moment he opened them again, and a heavy breath escaped his lips as he finally met her gaze.

"Because I'm supposed to be supporting you, reassuring you, not…" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "Burdening you with my problems."

"They're our problems, Chuck," she said earnestly, reaching to take his hand in hers. "We're in this together, remember?"

He stared down at their clasped hands, fidgeting with the enormous diamond on her ring finger. She could feel the tension in his body, the effort it was taking to maintain his composure.

"I don't know what I would do if something went wrong again," he confessed in a low undertone. "It was so hard before, and I didn't even know until… after."

She knew his words weren't meant as a reproach, but that didn't stop a pang of guilt from darting into her chest .

"And now that everything's going so well, if we lost him…" He trailed off, his voice growing hoarse in his throat. "I don't know if I could handle that."

She could hear the fear and uncertainty in his voice, the vulnerability that he normally kept hidden under an inscrutable façade… and it made her heart ache.

Chuck had once lived like he had nothing to lose, because he'd actually believed that to be the case. And there had been some particularly dark periods- incidents that distressed Blair too much to think about- when he hadn't considered his life even worth living.

Now that he was actually happy, now that he finally had everything he'd ever wanted- he had everything to lose. And he was much more fearful, much more vulnerable, as a result.

So she pulled their clasped hands to his mouth, and kissed the back of his fingers to comfort him. She gazed up at him, her eyes warm with conviction.

"You won't have to, Chuck," she assured him. "He's going to be fine."

"How can you be so sure?" he asked quietly.

"Some babies just… aren't meant for this world." She swallowed, gripping his hand more tightly, and moved it downwards to cradle her belly. "But I know this one is."

Chuck slowly nodded, his eyes shining with moisture in the dim light. He turned her slightly so she was facing the window, and wrapped his arms around her waist and nestled his face against the side of her head. She could feel his warm breath against her ear, his hands curved protectively around her middle.

Together they looked out over their city, silently pondering their future together.

"Like it or not, Bass, you're going to have a real live baby to take care of in about… three months," she murmured, a smile quirking the corners of her mouth. "So maybe you should be more concerned with, I dunno, learning how to change diapers, or devising some sort of babyproof storage system for your sex toys."

"My sex toys?" He scoffed. "Are you still pretending the swing wasn't your idea?"

"Or," she continued, ignoring his interjection, "deciding on a name for the baby."

"I thought we agreed that Bartholemew was a good option," he reminded her.

"No, what we agreed was that The Simpsons have ruined that name for, at minimum, the next decade," she countered. "Anyway, I was thinking something more classic, more… refined."

She heard him grumble under his breath and smiled victoriously.

"Fine," he conceded. "Such as?"

"I was thinking…" She paused for effect. "Lucien. Lucien Bass."

She frowned in confusion when she got only silence in response.

"Well?" she prodded, turning around to face him.

"You do realize that any baby with half your genes and half my genes will be exactly zero percent French, right?" he asked dryly.

"But…" She frowned. "He'll spend vacations at Daddy's vineyard..."

"Also," Chuck continued, "I'd rather our son not get beat up until he's old enough to do something to deserve it. So I think a less prissy name is in order."

Blair huffed indignantly. "It is not-"

"No one, in the history of time, has ever been intimidated by anyone named Lucien," he said firmly.

"I didn't realize we were trying to make people afraid of our baby," she replied, annoyed.

"Well, one day he'll be running Bass Industries," Chuck said confidently. "So he'll need to command a certain amount of… respect."

"Maybe he won't want to run Bass Industries," she shot back, mostly just to be contrary.

"Well, not if you name him Lucien," Chuck replied, unperturbed. "He'll probably turn out to be a Trustafarian. And spend all of his time at hipster coffee shops and pretentious poetry readings in Williamsburg, railing against capitalism."

Blair rolled her eyes.

"Or perhaps Lucien would prefer to ride around on a bicycle with a basket full of baguettes, wearing a beret and playing a harmonica," he continued drolly.

A very unladylike snort of laughter escaped her lips before she could contain it.

"Alright, fine," she relented. "You pretty much just ruined the name for me anyway."

There was a pause.

"He'll probably wear skinny jeans and ironic t-shirts," Chuck added. "And-"

Blair stopped his mouth with a kiss, and he responded with enthusiasm for several seconds before he spoke again.

"Let's make a deal," he proposed against her mouth.

She pulled back, frowning suspiciously.

"What deal?"

"I name the boys, and you name the girls," he replied, lifting one hand to stroke it against her cheek. He gazed down at her, his hazel eyes warm with adoration.

"Who says there's going to be more than one?" she asked archly.

"Come on, Waldorf," he said smugly. "You've never been able to resist me."

As if to prove it, he slid his hands around her back and down to her ass, cupping it with both palms and pulling her hips tightly against his. She could feel her pulse start to quicken, her body instinctively arching against him.

"Do I at least get veto power?" she asked breathlessly, determined to get a concession before she ended up caving entirely.

"I'll concede veto power," he agreed with an indulgent smile.

He dipped to slide his hand under her knees and scooped her up into his arms.

"Still light as a feather," he proclaimed, steadying his grip and pretending to wheeze in exertion.

She giggled, clasping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck, as he slowly, carefully, lovingly carried her back to bed.

.


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A/N: So, I really hope you guys enjoyed this. I probably put more into it than anything I've written so far- but it was totally worth it to finally give CB the happy ending they deserve.

Reviews and encouragement are always much appreciated :)

Thanks so much to Terrabeth for betaing- honestly, this wouldn't have been even half as good without your help. And special props for the, uh, sexting assistance. Apologies for whatever creepy Google ads you're now getting as a result.

And thanks to my lovely reviewers: Lenore 2410, busybee90us2003, E, Erica514, TriGemini, GGfan73104, Aliennut, wrighthangal, notoutforawalk, sallysally, CheeryFan, annablake, Love Still Stands, bfan, SaNaa.91, maryl, RauhlPrincess, Temp02, Prinniegg, Eternally Romantic, maxiana-x, Luftslott, and Ladynet. You guys are seriously the best.

Also, the text messaging bug? I didn't make that up. Thankfully my gaffes were of the G-rated variety, but... watch out if you have a Droid :)