Chapter Seven
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"There are some things that we all choose to believe, and sometimes what we choose to believe is more important than anything else."
Unknown
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He goes by the apartment; this time actually bothering to take note of the features and neighborhood, he has to grudgingly accept that it's actually in a not bad area – not bad as in, it's not across a certain bridge, and it's not that far from where he resides – and it's an acceptable looking residence. Not to his taste; but he supposes not everyone has billions of dollars at their disposal.
Dom answers the door, dressed down in a pair of dark jeans and grey woolen sweater, the red collar of his polo folded over the neckline. Chuck smirks, so maybe the elder doesn't quite share Nate's style, but at least he'd gotten the part about him not being able to spend all day in a suit right. He'll take that little victory.
"She's in the other room," the other says, nodding in the direction he's referring to and then moving to walk back along the corridor. He half-turns a moment later to comment over his shoulder, waving his hand airily and rolling his eyes at the prospect of them doing as he asks them not to: "Try not to get in an almighty fight with the shouting and the throwing things, will you not? The walls aren't soundproofed and I like my possessions as they are."
He ignores the elder's remark and the smile that accompanies it, and goes in search of Belle. He finds her sitting on the couch in the living room with a laptop propped up in front of her, stealing all of her attention.
The first thing that greets him is her scowl, followed by the words, "I hate you."
He stops where he is by the partition and waits silently to hear what comes next.
"I can't believe you called me right when you're all about to go out," she chastises, and he realizes she's directing the words at whoever is on the screen in front of her, out of his view, "How unbelievably cruel of you."
He hears laughter in the background and then the, evidently female, reply: "It's not our fault you decided to ditch us all and move across the Atlantic to a completely different time-zone."
And then another voice chimes in with, "Yeah, an' you called us, M!"
"Well you didn't have to answer!" is the brunette's exasperated response, but she sighs a moment later, relenting, "I really miss you, you know."
"We miss you too," is the response from the apparent huddle of girls on the other end of the video-call.
"Just come home, M," the first to speak says to her softly then.
"I can't," Belle replies in the same tone.
"Yes, you can," and it's the other female's turn to be exasperated now. "You don't need to do this, you don't need him."
Chuck is in no doubt as to whom they are referring; he figures there's a reason he's skulking in the shadows and this is as good as any. Why reveal his presence when he could listen in on her conversation with her friends and find out what she really thinks instead?
"Look, we know why you're doing it, Mira," another female voice joins the group, "But you don't owe this guy anything."
"I know I don't," Belle says, "But he's still the father of my baby."
"So what?" is the outburst from the first girl at that (he's taken to numbering them by order of appearance to keep better track of them in his head), "Plenty of women raise kids on their own, Mira, and you wouldn't even be alone – we'll be there for you every step of the way, just like we were before you upped and left us to go on your crazy crusade."
The brunette rolls her eyes good-naturedly at them and smiles; obviously she can see they're coming from a place of concern from her wellbeing. He can't, all he sees is people who want to keep him from knowing his child… except her. It makes him ever more curious to hear what she has to say about it: in an environment of her own making and with people she chooses to confide in; she has no reason to lie here, to hide what she really thinks from them. He knows he won't get another chance like this, so he stays where he is and continues to watch and listen.
This way he'll know if she's been telling the truth about everything; this way he might actually be able to believe it when she tells him she only wants to give him the chance to know his child.
"Look, M, I know you didn't know your dad and you want to give this guy a chance, but what if he doesn't deserve one?"
"Everyone deserves to know their child," Belle bites out; apparently this is a touchy subject.
"Do they?" her friend asks, the second one, obviously used to weathering this storm before. "How well do you really know him, Mira?"
"Well enough," is her short reply.
"Really? Enough to know if he's fit to be a father?" the second girl blows out a sigh that frazzles the speakers, "I mean, Hell, Mira, has he even shown any interest in wanting to be a father to the kid?"
"Look, you can't blame him for being skeptical," the brunette answers, clearly in the beginning stages of becoming extremely annoyed as she goes on the defensive, "You were all just as bad as me when that boot turned up on Dom's doorstep spouting the same lines I probably used on Chuck."
"That's different," is the easy response from one of the other girls, mood shifting.
"How?" Belle asks, rolling her eyes and throwing up her hands.
"Well, we like Dom," is one reply, and there's slight amusement coloring the tone.
She just shakes her head; apparently she should've been expecting this.
"Plus," the first girl picks up from the other's initial point of response, "We all knew she was sleeping with other people even though she claimed to love him, but it didn't matter because when she crawled her way back to him he still took her back like he always does. And of course he did, because that's what they're like, so while there was that possibility we were wrong – a very slight possibility mind – we knew it wouldn't have mattered what any of us said, because he has this thing with her; he won't ever be rid of her."
"Well, he should know better by now," is Belle's grumpy response to that.
"You're not really gonna make me say it, are you?" her friend asks with a slight groan.
"That doesn't apply here," the brunette simply answers; and he agrees, because he read the files his PI dug up and what happened with her brother is not the same as what's happening here. Not least, because he's made sure to do his homework first and even without the added information, he could already tell that Belle is nothing like her brother's ex.
"M," another of the girl's says gently, "I know what you told us about Hawaii, and I know you genuinely believe that he should have the chance to get to know his child, but – M, just Google him for God's sake, and you'll see. He's not the best influence to have around you."
"Some of the things he's done, Mira…" the second girl continues from the other, trailing off. "He's not – you don't do those kind of things to the people you're supposed to care about, M, not to mention the stuff he's done to those he doesn't care about."
Though he wants to be ashamed, though he is ashamed, he's so angry right now to bother about anything else. They're judging him and they're using everything he's done in the past to justify denying him a future. It doesn't matter where they're from, people are all the same.
"And it's not just him – it's all of them," the first girl continues. "That guy – Nate, his best friend, and his sister – and then his ex, Blair."
"Look, stop, alright!" she near-shouts, holding up her hands for them to do just that. She turns her palms inward and runs them over her face, taking a deep breath in and closing her eyes. "Just stop."
"I'm sorry, Mira, it's just – "
"I know you're all just looking out for me, and you just want what's best for me, but I really need you to understand something," her hands are clasped in front of her now, resting above the keyboard as she inhales and tells them, "I genuinely believe he deserves to know his child."
Chuck waits to hear what else she has to say, is scared to breathe in case he gives away his position and ruins this moment; the one he hadn't quite realized he'd been waiting for till it came along.
"We've all made mistakes in the past, granted some far worse than others; but from everything I've seen of him, he seems to genuinely be trying to be different. I don't know if that's better than what he was before, but as long as he's going to be there for our baby I don't really care about anything else right now. And I know that's just plain selfish and sure, maybe I'm just being naïve 'cos he's been pretty much a dick to me thus far, but how can I say that's reason enough to intentionally keep his child from him?" Belle shrugs, her face honest, open, "I can't."
"M – "
"He's only trying to protect himself," the brunette continues, her tone softer; less harsh, more understanding as she appeals to them to be the same, "He doesn't have a Dom and a you lot you physically hold him down and knock the sense into him. His sister and his best friend try, but they don't seem to really hold a candle to you lot and your extreme measures."
"Believe me, if we were there you'd have been pinned to the floor days ago," one of the girls says, and he watches Belle smile at this; watches it morph into laughter and sees the change overtake her whole body. It reminds him of Serena; how even the smallest spark of enjoyment could transform her whole being.
"I know," she replies, her face alight and her voice kind, although there's still an unyielding thread that remains, which tells them this is something she's not ready to let go of yet, if ever, "And that's why I love you. But you know I'm right, you know I need to do this. Chuck knows the baby's his now, if he doesn't want any part of its life then that's up to him, but I'm not deciding for him. I won't do that."
"You're too good, you know," voices the third girl to join their group chat.
"Now I know you must feel bad for snooping on him and trying to manipulate me like that because we all know I am anything but!" Belle replies, laughing outright now.
"No," another of her friend's agrees; soft, but certain, "With this, it's true."
"Well," Belle says with a shrug, and she barely has to consider it as she reasons, "Only 'cos I lived the other side and know how shitty it can be half the time."
"You never needed your Dad to save you, M," the first of the girl's tells her at that, apparently picking up on what the brunette isn't saying, "You did that all on your own."
"With a little help from your friends," another chimes in, more cheerfully.
"Maybe," Belle finally answers, and then cracks a smile, rolling her eyes at the thought, though he can hear the honesty in her voice even if she tries to make it sound like a jibe, "But having my Dad there might've meant I didn't need saving at all, as you like to put it."
"You can't compare your childhood to what's going to happen with your kid," the first of her friends to speak continues from her prior comment, "Even if he agrees to helping you raise your baby, that doesn't mean you're kid's going to have the perfect life."
"Well, way to be all Debbie Downer about it," the brunette mutters, scowling at the girl Chuck can only hear, but can't see.
"She's channeling Cassie in her absence," the third girl quips and Belle rolls her eyes.
"Shut-up, I am not. It's called being realistic," the girl refutes, "Although you all know Cassie'd be the first to agree with me. You know I'm right."
"Maybe," Belle concedes after a moment, with a quirk of the lips. "But if there's even a chance that my baby might have his Dad in his life, that they can be happy and full and stay a part of mine – I won't deny him that. I can't."
"We know," one of the trio accepts for them all, "We're just trying to look out for you, is all."
It's swiftly followed by the second girl heaving a sigh, observing, "I guess we should just accept by now we're not going to change your mind."
"Well, if you'd just done that in the first place it would've meant you could've been out drinking and having a good time already," Belle remarks, her tongue poking out between her teeth as she points out the flaw in their plan, now somewhat entertained.
"And yet we love you, so we stayed," is the rebuttal, followed by a bubble of laughter from both sides. "And we always have a good time when you're around."
"Oh, now you flatter me?" Her chuckle stills to a small smile, and she really is more beautiful when she smiles. "But I know, and thank you," she says, and it's easy to see she genuinely means it. "Tell Cas I'm sorry I missed her."
"I'm sure she'll love that!" the first of the girls replies, and then pretends to be put out by the fact that: "She expects separate calls, you know, none of the rest of us are that demanding."
"I know!" Belle laughs along with the others, apparently fully aware of this, "So where is she anyway? Out on a hot date tonight?"
"At work," is the response she receives, evidently unimpressed.
"No!" He has to admit, as his lips quirk up at the corners, that she plays the scandalized act quite well.
"I know, right?" her friend agrees with the indignity of it all, before adding in a voice that bounces across the space, clearly amused, "Oh, but apparently we have you to blame for it, M, so technically you should be punished for our suffering and since our only means of communication is this…"
"You wouldn't!" Belle cries out, hands flying to either side of the screen to grab hold of the edges of her laptop, like that will actually stop them from hanging up on her.
"Well, all this overtime she's putting in is so she can take as many paid holiday days as she wants when you finally have the baby, so really it is all your fault," the first laments, concurring with the second; and despite himself he finds his lips remain curved upwards, feeling mildly entertained now by their interaction.
"Yeah, and when will that be exactly?" another chimes in, "I swear it's been like forever already – isn't the kid ready to see the world yet?"
Belle laughs, pats her stomach, "Not quite yet, another few months to go – and what's she talking about anyway? It's her Dad's company, not to mention he loves me, she can take as many paid holidays as she wants right now!"
"We know!" is the chimed agreement; like they've already been over this many a time before with the girl currently absent from their domain and find it just as ridiculous as the brunette does.
"It's all part of her grown-up, responsible route," one of her friend's enlightens her, and he can practically hear the roll of her eyes accompany the scoff in her words.
"Like she's gotta be an upstanding citizen to be the Godmother," another of the girl's mocks, directing at Belle, "We all know you've had your sights set on her since primary school!"
She seems to ignore the last point, like she knows they mean it in jest, but she doesn't want to cause any friction; instead focusing on the previous, "Maybe I should come back – remind her what fun she used to be."
"Yes, please do!" she instantly receives in reply.
Belle just smiles at them all.
Watching her accept them as she has, and hearing them apparently do the same for her; he supposes he could maybe gloss over what they said of him. Though he can grudgingly admit there may have been some logic in what her girls had to say, suggesting Belle simply types his name into an Internet search engine certainly pales quite considerably in comparison to some of the schemes he's employed to get his friends on his side. So while he might not like it, he can live with it.
Plus, he has a feeling that he might be seeing quite a lot of her friends over the coming years and quite frankly the fewer females he has on his case about being a father, the better. He imagines he'll have his hands full enough contending with those in his immediate vicinity without having to work through the issues of those preprogrammed to be on Belle's side as well.
"We love you, M," is the uniform chant.
"I love you all too," the brunette declares; like it's not just the only answer she could give, but the easiest, the most natural one too.
"Stay safe," they demand next, and they mean it as much as the first sentiment.
"I will," she assures them with an indulging look.
"Keep in touch," they instruct then, another clear stipulation of their separation.
"Always," she swears with a swift nod of the head.
"And don't forget about us!" they make her promise.
"Never," she vows, with a smile that shows she means it.
He turns and walks out the same way he came in, stopping only to place a small black box on the counter as he passes.
No, he won't hold it against them. After all, what are friends for if they're not there in our time of need?
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Her conversation with her brother is brief. She'd found the box containing the earrings and naturally assumed he'd bought them to give to that no-good-bitch he's offered his apartment to while she's visiting the city. Note: the bitch isn't here to visit him, just to give him that impression long enough for him to put her up in his place while she's here, saving her the hotel bill. And it is so like her brother to fall for the bitch's act and even shower her with trinkets she doesn't even appreciate, only to be left heartbroken when she ups and leaves once she's gotten whatever it is she wants this time.
It's one of the reasons Mira understands Chuck's need to verify the paternity and try to cover himself in this whole scenario, in fact she sort of admires it (discounting the fact she's had to bear the brunt of his dick-ish ways) given she wishes she could get her brother to realize it won't kill him to concentrate on self-preservation once in a while, rather than constantly trying to do what's right by others, namely her.
"What're these?" she asks, standing in his doorway and holding up the box that was sitting on the table out in the hallway, by the entrance to the living room.
"Huh?" he asks, pulling the headphones from his ears.
She tosses them across the gap and he catches them easily, frowning at her as she stands watching him with an unimpressed look on her face, eyebrow raised, her hand on her hip and the unspoken prompt crossing the space between them: Well?
Dom shrugs at her. "I dunno, Chuck must've left them when he came by."
"Wait," Mira says to that, both eyebrows lifting now, "Chuck came by?"
"Yeah," her brother responds breezily, giving her a strange look, "Didn't you see him? I told him you were in the living room, watched him walk down the hall as I went back to my room."
"And I was on Skype with the girls," she responds, realization dawning on her. "Shit."
"Nice," Dom remarks then, flipping the lid and holding up the now open box to reveal the neat diamond earrings that rest within, "And you ran him out of here without even thanking him for the gift? Where have your manners gone, sis?" he tuts her, shaking his head, sending her a look of mock disappointment and outrage as he exclaims, "You'd think you'd been raised in a barn!"
"Shutup," she mutters and then deftly catches the jewelry box with one hand when he throws it back with a big grin on his face.
He nods towards the door. "Well go on then."
She huffs a sigh. "You are so demanding, do you know that?"
"I've earned the right to be demanding considering I've running around after you for years," he comments, still smiling broadly.
She rolls her eyes and turns to leave.
"And don't run in those heels!" her brother calls after her. "I don't want you falling."
Mira swivels round to fit him with a look. "When have I ever?"
"Funny, but that sort of cockiness will be your downfall," he warns, pointing his finger at her reproachfully though still with an air of being thoroughly entertained. "Anything happens to the baby and it's your fault!"
"Who else's fault would it be?" she calls back.
"Just be careful," Dom tells her, and this time he's being completely serious.
"Of course, brother," Mira tosses back with a smile and swings the door shut behind her as he sighs; that's what she always says, doesn't mean it always happens.
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"Hey man!" he shouts in greeting, eyes glued to the screen where he's currently trying to navigate his way through a war-zone. Then he spins round with a frown, "What're you doing back so soon? Thought you were going to see Mira?"
"I did, she was busy," comes the short reply.
Nate laughs, narrowly avoids being killed for his best friend. "She kicked you out? And you just let her? Wow!"
"What do you want me to say?" Chuck asks, arms extended looking for an answer, "She was talking to her friends and I thought it best not to interrupt. I was trying to be considerate."
"I bet you were," he comments, not bothering to hide his smile and then puts the controller down, turning to inform his roommate that he already knows what happened, "Dom called. She's on her way over."
"Joy," is the muttered response to that, complete with grimace as he swallows the contents of his glass.
He saves his progress and then turns the set off, clapping his best friend on the shoulder as he passes saying, "Think I'm going to make myself scarce for this if you don't mind."
"I do mind," Chuck refutes, "What happened to having my back?"
"Hey!" Nate turns, holding up his hands in defense, "I dealt with the future Uncle and we both know he's my main competition," and then he grins as he points both index fingers at Chuck, telling him almost gleefully, "Baby mama's all yours."
He watches his best friend scowl at him and mutter, "Traitor."
Nate just laughs, shaking his head at the reaction as he moves towards his room.
"She blames you too, you know!" his best friend calls out after him.
"Then it's a good thing I'm going to hide, isn't it?" he returns, beaming; he's enjoying this far too much right and it shows.
"Lucky I'm loyal or I'd sell you out in a heartbeat," his best friend remarks, placing the tumbler back on the counter and progressing towards the couch.
"Thanks for the love, man," Nate jokes and then thinks he better close the door before Chuck has enough of his laughing face and throws something in his direction to get him to stop enjoying his misfortune so much.
The hum of the chuckle still high in his throat, he steps inside his bedroom and starts to look for his headphones; he doesn't want to eavesdrop and this way if the noise gets loud enough that he can hear it over his own speakers then he'll know it's time to rush in and play hero. Otherwise he'll let his best friend save himself; Nate has faith in him, Chuck's capable of dealing with this.
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Chuck's sitting on the sofa poring over some files when a box drops in front of his face, nearly hitting him on its descent to the table top.
He looks up to see her standing over him and scowls at her. "I'd appreciate if you stopped throwing things at me. Especially things I've given you."
"Well I thought I'd settle this one early on so as not to give you any ideas of what would entertain me or the like," she remarks, narrowing her eyes.
"And what, pray tell, did you not like about this particular offering?" he inquires tightly, holding the little box in a tense grip.
"I told you I'm not here for money and yet you keep trying to bait me with it," she tells him, exasperated, "Like I'll finally give in and you'll get the satisfaction of knowing that everyone has a price."
He exhales; that hadn't actually been his intention here, but he supposes he can't really blame her for the assumption given everything else. "It's a pair of earrings, Belle; it's hardly a pay-off."
She shifts, takes a moment to process what he's saying and then tells him, "Well, I don't want them."
"Why not?" he questions; because he can't see the problem here if they both know he didn't do it to push her buttons, they really were (are) just a gift.
"Alright," she says, taking a seat on the other end of the sofa and with her hands clasped in her lap (her nails are a pale grey with writing across them, he notes) she looks to him expectantly, "Tell me why I should take them."
"Because they're a gift!" he exclaims, because he'd thought that much was obvious by now.
"Well, then I suggest you get a refund, because I don't want your so-called gifts," she tells him primly, readjusting her coat so the stretched, white expanse of her top is shaded by the ecru wool lapels and the sleeves that rest across her front.
"Why the Hell not?" he demands, turning more towards her with the words. He's in a dark suit and she's all light tones and still they don't match; even if he hadn't shed his own wool overcoat he doubts that would've done much to align them. It's a trivial point, but for some reason it sticks with him.
"Because I want to know that you won't just shower our kid with presents every time you say the wrong thing, or when they do something wrong and you feel bad for telling them off and want their forgiveness for grounding them or whatever," she explains, like that should've been obvious.
"Grounding them? Really?" he can't help but ask; eyebrow raised and face the picture of amusement: such a contrast from even a minute earlier. "Hardly likely."
She breathes out as she answers, "Look, whatever, I just don't want our child thinking you can simply buy your way out of everything, when all you really need to do is apologise."
"So, let me get this straight – I compose a document that in effect safe-guards you and our child from any financial fall-out or business deal gone wrong in my name, albeit with a few minor adjustments for my own amusement; you attack me with it, after you unceremoniously dumped it in my breakfast, effectively ruining that as well as my brand new suit – and I'm the one who has to apologise?"
"That's not – "
"What? A simple thank-you for the earrings, Chuck is too much, now you want an apology on top of it?" he exhales sharply, shaking his head. "You are unbelievable, woman."
"God, Chuck, I'm sorry!" she finally manages to get out.
"Excuse me?" he asks, staring back at her.
"I'm sorry," Belle repeats, gesturing to him then as she says, "About your suit and the contract – all of it, it wasn't your fault, I just took it out on you, so I'm sorry."
"Oh," he voices, looking down as he mulls this over, adjusting his dark purple tie.
"That's all you've got to say?" she responds, mildly offended as well as skeptical.
"Well what do you want me to say?" he asks, actually somewhat curious to hear her reply.
"I don't know; that you accept my apology?" She throws herself back against the sofa next to him, the dramatic that she has a tendency to be, although mindful of all the paperwork and potential spillages that could incur from his nearby beverages this time.
"I bought you the earrings to apologize; does that not tell you I wasn't even expecting one from you?" he tells her, because after his conversation with her brother he'd honestly thought she'd be in no mood to do anything other than continue to blame him; he supposes he still has a lot to learn about her, things that a file or report can't tell him.
"Well, you should've," and then seems to think on it as she adjusts her words, "I mean, not all the time, because frankly some of those things you put in the contract…" she draws in a deep breath and sent him a sideways glance, summarizing, "That was such a dick move, Chuck."
He can't help the laugh that escapes then, but her glare silences him from anything further; best not to bait her too much right now.
"I ended up sitting around having to talk through each and every one of those stupid points with lawyer after lawyer and it was insanely dull," she tells him and then she meets his eyes fully, and concedes, "But sometimes – most of the time, you'd be right to feel you're due an apology."
"Well, like you said, it was dick move," he offers by way of compromise.
She laughs this time as she watches him smirking, unable to help himself or curb even the slightest bit of pride that accompanies the statement.
"Hence the earrings," he continues, pulling the corner of his lip down just a touch to fit the shift in mood.
"They're beautiful," she says, and her face lights up with the words; beautiful is as beautiful does.
"You should keep them," is his simple response to that, because she should.
"No."
He frowns, because seriously it's like hot and cold with her and he can't quite get a clear reading on her, especially as she continues to smile at him.
"I told you, you don't need to get me a ridiculously expensive present just to say you're sorry," Belle explains, and then thinks better on it and with a rueful smile says, "I mean, I'm hardly adverse to gifts in general – and really, who can resist shiny, pretty things when they're presented so nicely like that? Clearly I have the willpower of a superhero – but maybe next time apologise first? And then with the shiny present? Or apologise and then give me the present just because… oh I dunno, maybe because I'm currently laid up with your spawn inside me and you'll effectively have a hold over me for the next twenty-odd years or so?"
He chuckles; he supposes he can live with that given she may have a point there.
"Plus, it's too soon; we're only just starting to actually accept the other's presence, we still don't know each other, so maybe keep them for another time? Give them to me later," she suggests and then her tongue peeks out and she bites her lip and Chuck can tell she's enjoying this now, "when you're sure I'm not here to steal all your worldly possessions or leave you with a child who looks nothing like you before running off to the other side of the world or something equally as manic and suitable for the Upper East Side?"
"I think you're fitting in enough as you are just now," he comments and it's the truth. "And I thought we already established the kid's mine."
"You know, for all I insult you lot, I'm going to take that as a compliment," she replies, looking pleased with herself. "And we did, you're right."
"See?" he says with a smirk, even going so far as to send her a wink with the proud assertion, "You're learning!"
"Life lessons from Chuck Bass?" she says to that, groaning loudly and shaking her head in faux despair, "Lord help me!"
She falls into his side in a fit of giggles, leaning there with a slightly more content-sounding sigh and he lifts his arm to wrap it round her shoulders in what he knows is the first moment of affection they've shared since they left Maui. It feels oddly nice, and somewhat comforting with its unspoken platonic understanding beneath it.
"I do believe you, you know," he chooses then to admit.
"Hmm?" she turns her head to look up at him and the sight of her slowly blinking eyes has him smiling; all the events of the day must've tired her out already. He thinks back to how much it took to tire her out when they first met; she's definitely losing her touch. Or maybe his has just improved; yes, that's equally, if not more, plausible.
"About not being after the money," he clarifies.
"Good," she says, satisfied as she readjusts her head in the crook of his neck and then in a tone colored with amusement follows it up with, "Did you decide that before or after you were eavesdropping on my conversation with my friends?"
His lips purse together and he forfeits, "I guess there's no point denying."
"No, there isn't," she tells him in a childlike tone with a shake of the head. Then she pulls away to look at him and asks, softer, "How much did you hear?"
He turns his body so he's looking squarely at her as he answers honestly, "Everything."
She nods, swallows; tries to digest what this means for them.
"Thank you," he says, answering for her, and then presses the small black box into her hands.
She lets out a laugh, looking down at the box and then back up at him, "Excuse me?"
"You're right, they were an apology gift, and I should've just said I was sorry instead," he tells her, "but now I'm saying thank you, I feel maybe it should be marked with a small gift."
"But…" she looks between the box she's yet to open and his unblinking eyes, "Why are you thanking me?"
"Because I heard what you said to your friends," he reasons, "You don't know me, not really; we're both still getting there, but you keep pushing me to accept what's going on and now I am, you still keep giving me the chance to be there, to be a part of my child's life even when I pull such dick moves," she lets out a little laugh at this, and he supposes he should allow it since even he'll admit his attempt to replicate her accent is not his best, "And when I don't even deserve it, when I've not even shown you that I want it, you still keep offering it up."
"And do you?" she asks, looking at him like she's been waiting to hear the answer to this question all along, which he imagine isn't far off the reality of it all. "Want it?"
"Yeah," he breathes out, ducking his head with the admission, because as much as he may have wanted it with another girl, wished it was her body that was home to his first child, dreamt of a life where she was standing by his side with their children before them; for the longest time it seems like this is all he's wanted. And it's not because he wants to prove himself better than, different from Bart; or because he's been so desperate for a family for so long. It's not even that the idea of some unconditional love being showered upon him remains the most foreign and yet sought after feeling.
It's because it's true. He really does want this; to have a child, to be a father.
Chuck turns to his head round to face her, and the smile peeks through as he confesses, "I really want it."
"Then it's yours," Belle says, like it's been that simple all along; like all she's been waiting for is him to finally tell her, one way or the other, if he wants to be part of his child's life. "I wouldn't take this away from you, Chuck, this baby's as much yours as it is mine."
"Then I guess we better start thinking of what to name our baby," he quips, before the emotion becomes too much and he fades further into thoughts he doesn't want to dwell on right now.
She smiles, so very grateful and throws her arms around his neck, murmuring, "Thank you," as they pull apart and she kisses his cheek.
She opens the box in her hands, and he watches her stare down at the earrings as they catch the light and shine brilliantly back at her, making the blue in her eyes shimmer amid the emerald green.
"What about Diamond?" Belle suggests, and then dissolves in a fit of giggles once more, leaning against him with an exhausted, but happy sigh; and he finds that somewhere in between his lips pull up into a smile too.
This may yet turn out to be one of the best things that's happened to him; not that he's going to tell her that of course.
.
TBC…
To make up for the majority of the focus being Chuck and Mira (and Dom) this chap, although I felt it necessary for later parts, there will be Blair in the next (and if not the next then DEF the one after) and from that point there should be more of her and the others, so not ALL focused on Mira, or Chuck and Mira. Hope that'll suffice ;)
I'll try have another update up today so I stay on track, if not, then tomorrow :)
Thanks for reading, please let me know what you thought – it really does mean a lot to me
Steph
xxx
