It was Saturday when Carter got the phone call. The morning had been going well, Blair was visiting her father and Carter was out on the terrace going over the newspaper. It was spring by this time, so the air had gotten bearable and he found himself comfortable in just a shirt and boxers. Taking a sip of his coffee Carter was surprised when his phone buzzed. Setting his cup down, Carter answered the phone expecting to hear Blair's voice. Putting the phone to his ear Carter smiled at the sound of a familiar female voice on the other side of the line. "Carter?' the voice came from the other side of the line.

"Mother?" he smiled into the phone. Though his relationship with his father had ended, Carter was still close to his mother. It was true, Carter Baizen was a mama's boy.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a girlfriend!" his mother shouted over the phone getting straight to the point.

"Who told you?' he groaned.

"Marion of course," she responded, using his sister's first name.

"Sylvie," he muttered under his breath. "I'm going to kill her!"

"Now, now, don't be upset at your sister. If you had told me yourself we could have bypassed this conversation. "So, who's the lucky girl?" his mother snooped. Margery Baizen had been waiting years for Carter to meet a woman worthy of his love and by the way her daughter spoke of his girlfriend, Margery knew she must be the one.

"Blair Waldorf," Carter sighed as the image of the radiant brunette came to mind.

"You don't mean Harold and Eleanor's daughter do you?" Margery laughed down the line. Harold was a family friend and she had met Blair on numerous occasions. Blair was a feisty little thing, the complete opposite of her son. But Margery knew that Carter needed someone like that in his life. "Does she treat you well?" she asked seriously, wanting nothing but the best for her youngest.

"Better than I deserve," he said truthfully. "We're in love," he stated, not wanting his mother to doubt their relationship.

"I believe you, dear. I've missed you Carter," his mother spoke softly.

"I've missed you too mom," Carter responded, voice cracking. It had been two years since he saw his mother, three years not living in the same city as her."How's dad?" he asked quietly.

The question surprised Margery, it had been the first time her son spoke of his father. "Fine I suppose," she replied. "You know how he is," she sighed. "Stubborn and too damn prideful," she finished.

Carter ran his hand through his hair, "Has he said anything?" he asked hesitantly.

"I'm afraid not, but give him some time," Margery tried to comfort her son.

"It's been three years mom, if he hasn't forgiven me yet..."

"He will," she cut him off. "Carter, your father loves you."

"I want to fix this," Carter said. Folding his arms onto the table, he tiredly lay his head on them. "I need to speak with him." Closing his eyes, he waited for her response.

There was movement in the background and the distinct voice of his father. Carter's head perked up and held the phone tight to his ear listening intently .Moments later his mother was back on the phone, "Carter..."

"I'm coming to New York," he stated, knowing the only way he could mend his relationship with his father was if he travelled to New York and spoke to him in person.

Carter stood on the front steps of the chateau, body rocking back and forth as he tried to formulate a plan to tell Blair of his recent plans. Knocking on the door he ran his hand through his hair, a habit he had come accustomed to since dating Blair. The creak of the door opened and the surprised but smiling face of Roman came into view. "Carter?" The French man asked as he opened the door fully to let the blonde in, "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to Blair," he spoke nervously. Seeing the anxiety on the young man's face Roman led him to the sun room where Blair and her father were.

Blair was in the middle of telling her father about new designs when she heard Roman. "Blair, you have a guest," he smiled. Lifting her head she was surprised to see Carter standing behind her soon-to-be stepfather.

"Carter?" she asked. "What are you doing here?" Setting down her glass of orange juice Blair walked toward him. Silently Carter grabbed her hand and led her up to her old bedroom. She watched as he collapsed on her bed hands on his face. "Are you okay?" she asked worriedly as she settled next to him.

"I'm going to New York," he mumbled through his fingers.

Blair lay on her bed confused. "Why?"

"My dad..." his voice shook as he spoke of his father. "I'm going to apologize to him. I want to have a relationship with him," he said. He felt Blair shift next to him, moments later her small hand captured his.

"When do we leave?" was her only question.

His head perked at 'we' not expecting her to drop everything to come along with him."You want to come along?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course," she said softly, squeezing his hand in hers.


The plane landed as gently as possible making its way into New York. The couple held on to each other as the familiar scenes flashed through the windows, their hearts rapidly beating. It had been more than two years since either of them set foot in New York, both feeling out of place.

Walking out of the airport Cater grabbed her hand and held on tightly, his worry obvious. Blair held on just as tight, overwhelmed by the city. They had become so accustomed to Paris, the intimacy and privacy had embraced them for years. But as they stood on the walkway the noise had them cringing, the busy streets making them feel nonexistent.

Looking in to each other's eyes, they both knew. This place that they use to call 'home' no longer held a place in their hearts.

The car ride was slow as they found themselves in traffic. They passed landmarks and skyscrapers, but neither looked intrigued, the couple just held on tighter. As the car finally stopped in front of their hotel, Carter and Blair walked hand-in-hand to the lobby. "Are you okay?" Carter's raspy voice whispered in to her ear. Looking into his green eyes Blair simply nodded, unable to formulate words.

The elevator doors opened and the two slowly made their way in the room. Setting down the suitcases, Carter found himself once again collapsing on the bed. His head whirled with unwanted memories of New York. Serena. Nate and Chuck. His father. He groaned as the images surfaced.

Seeing his anxiety, Blair crawled on the bed. Facing her body to his, she ran her hands through his hair, cradling his head to her chest. Moments later she felt his strong arms wrap around her waist, holding her body close to his.

"Come on," she coaxed him. Easing off the bed she led him to the bathroom, running the water into the tub. She helped him strip the white shirt off of his torso, his lean body holding well defined muscles. His rough hands gently unbuttoned her green blouse, slowly pushing it off her shoulders. Hands landing on his jeans, she unhurriedly lowered the material, leaving him clad in boxers. Kicking away his jeans, Carter tenderly kissed her bare shoulder as he found the zipper of her skirt. Leaning up to kiss his lips, Blair slipped her hands under the elastic of his printed boxers, letting the thin material slip to the ground. She then dragged her hands along his arms, comforting him. Returning her soft embrace, Carter caressed her waist as he unclasped her nude lace bra, he watched as it floated to their feet. Lowering to his knees, Carter kissed her stomach and gently let the matching nude underwear fall, never taking his eyes off of hers. Standing back up he reached to close the faucet. Leading her to the tub, Carter got in first, Blair entered moments later leaning her back against his chest.

They embraced in the water until it cooled. Wrapping themselves in white robes Carter and Blair walked out of the bathroom padding to the large bed. Easing off the bathrobe, the couple went under the covers, bare skin touching. And the night ended as they sought comfort in each other's presence.

The Baizen's penthouse was everything Blair had imagined it to be. Classic. The epitome of every wealthy Upper East Sider's home. Shades of green adorned the walls, giving the penthouse a certain charm to it. Dark wood flooring spread across the home; inviting you in.

"Carter!" His name was called from the right. Turning his body toward the voice, he smiled as he saw the familiar face of his mother. Within seconds his body was wrapped in her arms.

"Mom," he smiled into the hug. Looking down at her, he was relieved to see her healthy and happy.

"Oh, Blair Waldorf!" Margery spoke loudly, completely ignoring her son as the brown haired girl caught her attention. "How have you been?"

Blair beamed as she too was gathered in the older woman's arms. "Fantastic," Blair responded immediately. "And you?"

"Amazing dear," Margery said. Taking the arm of Blair, Margery began leading her through the home, leaving Carter alone in the open corridor.

Taking this moment to himself, Carter assessed his surroundings. His childhood home had not changed one bit, hell the same floral curtains were still hanging near the windows. His eyes raked over the antique bookshelf scanning the familiar spines. Smiling to himself, Carter could not help but venture further in to the home.

It was curiosity that got him in the situation. Carter had been walking down the corridors when he heard it, the soft roar of crowd. The noise took him by surprise and had his heart racing in panic. Creeping closer to the sound, Carter found himself in front of an oak door. Without a second though, he pushed open the door and stopped in his tracks.

Sitting in a dark brown leather chair was Walter Baizen, completely oblivious to his son's presence. His hair now held streaks of white, matching his full beard. His circular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he studied the newspaper in front of him. Above him was a television, a football game running. Carter stood there, unable to move. It had been years since he's last seen his father and he suddenly became overwhelmed with guilt. His father was nothing but kind, yet Carter had given him hell as a teen. His eyes began to burn as the memories flooded back. Serena. Chuck & Nate. Leaving.

It was in that second when Carter realized the television was no longer on. Snapping his head to his father, his breath caught as his eyes caught sight of identical green orbs.

An hour had passed and Margery Baizen was out of breath. She had showed Blair all the rooms in the penthouse, including the bathrooms and side rooms. Her feet ached as her heels clacked on the wood flooring. Leading the young brunette back to the living area, Margery gasped. Sitting on the large cream couch was Walter and Carter. Both men intently staring at the crossword puzzle that laid out on the table. It was as if nothing had changed.