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The days passed in a blur, and Blair was amazed at how fast she got used to the idea that she was pregnant. Chuck, on the other hand, seemed to realize anew each day. He started showing up at her apartment on weekends, walking her home after school and then staying in her room to do homework until her mother came in and gave him meaningful "go home, Chuck" looks. It made Blair smile that all it took was one look from Eleanor and Chuck, her Chuck, who didn't care what anyone though, would scramble for his books and hurry out the door. When they weren't studying, they were talking, always talking, about what to do about the baby – when to tell. Serena was always reminding Blair that people would know soon enough, whether or not Blair told. When Blair was three months along, Chuck surprised her by scheduling an appointment with Dr. Alison Hill, a well-known OBGYN. Blair was responsible. Blair was organized. And yet with all of the excitement and the panic over her pregnancy, it had never even occurred to her to see a doctor. But Chuck had remembered. She loved it when he surprised her.
Blair lay on the table, cold blue goo spread out over the small hill of her stomach. She was showing surprisingly little. She had invested in a wardrobe full of billowy blouses, and they covered her mid section so well that her mother hadn't even slyly commented that she'd put on weight. Dr. Hill slid a cold, plastic wand over her body, eyes glued to the screen next to her. Blair, too watched the screen, waiting for a baby to appear. She glanced over at Chuck to see if he was looking, but his eyes were glued to her. She rolled her eyes at him, motioning for him to look at the screen, and he smiled infuriatingly, his gaze unwavering.
"Looks like we have something," Dr. Hill said, her voice bright, as she slowed the plastic wand and brought it to a stop. Blair's breath caught in her throat. The image on the screen was grainy, but she could make out the outline of a fetus – its body was tiny, curled up into a ball, its head large and alien-like. It was beautiful. Tears filled her eyes. This was a baby. Her baby – a life that was growing inside of her. She looked up to meet Chuck's eyes again, but they were on the screen now, his mouth open in awe.
"That's my son," he said, turning to Blair slowly. He picked up her hand, squeezing it so tightly that she had flex it to loosen his grip. "I'm going to be that boy's father," he said, shaking his head. Dr. Hill smiled. "I'll give you two a moment." When she left, Chuck knelt down so his face was level with Blair's on the flat, hospital-style bed. He pressed his lips to her cheek, and made his way up her face, peppering her eyes, her nose, her forehead with kisses. "A father!" he laughed. "I'm going to say things like 'Son, time for bed' and 'Chuck Jr., I'm very proud of you.' " He stopped, eyes dreamy. "I'm going to be a good dad," he said quietly, so at first Blair wasn't sure she had heard right. "No I'm going to be a great dad. I'm not going to be like - " he stopped, and Blair sat up, her hospital gown falling down over her swollen belly.
"You are going to be great," she said, pulling his face to hers, kissing him passionately. "You're going to be…" she searched for the right word. "Amazing." Chuck smiled against her lips, and turned back to the image of the baby on the screen.
"So what if it turns out to be a girl?" Blair said suddenly, eyes fixed on the little image before her. Chuck turned around, eyebrows pulled together in concern, like the thought had never occurred to him before.
"A girl?" he said with a sneer. "It's going to be a Bass, Blair. Can you really imagine a Bass female?" Blair shrugged. It could be a monkey for all she cared. It was her's and Chuck's. A smile spread across her face as she thought the words to herself again. Chuck stood up, annoyed by her smug silence. "I wouldn't know what to do with a girl, anyway. I couldn't give her advice, or tell her what to wear. No. It's definitely a boy," he said, the worried look on his face betraying the deep confidence that rang in his baritone. Dr. Hill entered, then, smiling as always.
"So do we want to know the sex?" she asked, unaware of the irony of her question.
"Yes," Chuck responded at the same time Blair said "No." Chuck wheeled around.
"Waldorf, are you kidding me? I can't wait six months to find out."
"Chuck." Blair said slowly, her lips pulled into a tight, fake smile. "Will you be giving birth to this baby? Will you be sacrificing your body, and your social standing and your physical comfort?" Chuck glared at her, and then turned to the doctor, whose smile had fallen, her face frozen in a mixture of surprise and horror. It was all Chuck could do not to laugh. This woman obviously didn't know how Blair operated. "We will be opting not to know the gender of our baby," he said, his voice sugary. Blair glowed.
That night, Blair was sitting in her room, thinking of baby names. Holly or Audrey was too cliché. Blair junior was just downright tacky. She tried flipping through a baby name book, but she only got halfway through the A's before she stopped, bored. She moved on to boys. Chuck would probably advocate for Charles Jr. A mini Chuck would be nice, sweet even, but she didn't know if she could get past associating the name with the boy who made her body buzz with electricity every time he looked at her. She thought about the names of her favorite male actors. Cary (Grant)…too girly on anyone but him. Clark (Gable)...reminded her too much of Superman's Clark Kent. Gary (Cooper)…too ordinary. Her phone buzzed and she turned to it, sighing. She'd have to talk to Chuck about names later. Maybe he'd have some ideas. She glanced down at her phone. An alert from gossip girl. She hit "open," sill thinking about baby names, only half interested. She froze at the picture that came on the screen, and it took her brain a couple of seconds to register the image, before her head started to spin. It was she and Chuck on the corner outside of the OBGYN's office. The sign was clear in the background. He had his arm around her waist, and was smiling at her, midsentence. Her arm was outstretched to hail a cab. The caption below read: Looks like Queen B's with child – and it's not exactly prince charming that's given Blair her heir.