AN: Let it be said that I did try to write the last part of Footsteps. I had it open and everything. But I was staring at a blank page for a long time. It was not what my brain wanted. It was this or Heaven. Or—my writing instinct is trying to run me aground—because I just saw the fourth story of the Against the Dying of the Light series unfold in my head. Very difficult to rein that in.

Additionally, I do want to remind people that this story took off from after Blair threw the flowers into the elevator after Chuck tried to apologize after the 'wife' comment.

Part 25

So early into their wedded bliss—or should we abyss?—and already there's trouble in paradise? Well, what else could we have expected from the inevitably torturous pairing that is Chuck and Blair?

Spotted. A quick tiff between two BFFs. Chuck Bass and Nate Archibald in what seems to be a tense argument while Blair watches in the sidelines. And right outside Baby World Co, makes of fine baby furniture. Well if we didn't know already that Mrs Bass is carrying—we'd know now.

The question is—and look closely at the photo—who's the father?

Oh Mrs Bass, for a girl with such an impressive GPA, you just never learn, do you?

When Chuck entered the boardroom, his was the only seat left empty. He nodded at Harold, and proceeded to the empty seat at the head of the table. Chuck slid his phone into his back pocket.

"Gentlemen," Chuck said, "I would like to introduce you to Mr Harold Waldorf. He is working with us on this project."

"We know Mr Waldorf, Mr Bass," Farrar responded. "Some of us have tried to land Mr Waldorf. Apparently, it is a feat only achieved through familial connections," he added pointedly.

Harold stood, then handed folders to everyone in the boardroom. "Never let is be said that Harold Waldorf is into nepotism. I assure you, gentlemen, that I would not sign up for a failure. I looked into every facet of my son-in-law's project and considered myself blown away."

Farrar grunted.

"Weren't you?" Harold interjected, looking straight at Farrar.

"I was," admitted the old man. "That's why we gave it a green light."

Harold smiled, nodded in satisfaction. "Then we're on the same page." He looked at Chuck. "Your board seems to approve of your project. This is a very shrewd group of people."

Chuck stifled a smile at the looks of approval he received from the other members of the board. Harold was a shark, or however sharks were called when you put a suit on them, gave them high class building and propped them up in a high rise Fortune 40 office.

If he was paying Harold half of his inheritance, it would probably be all worth it. Of course, given that if he did that, the money would eventually go to his own children, it was a bargain.

Chuck looked through the pages of the detailed plan Harold had signed off on at the EU office. He watched Farrar glare at the figures. While Harold talked, the frown on Farrar's face gave way to a relaxed expression. The older man leaned back in his chair.

"So EU will begin the project we've already started. Where are they getting the designs? Are we fronting those funds?"

Harold turned the discussion to Chuck. Chuck sat up and responded, "The designs will be theirs if they choose to spend. They are not in as dire a strait as we are."

"They will expect to see our designs."

He remembered the folder of blueprints that Blair gathered from Bart's office when they were choosing the ones they would use for the local construction. "We still have a few designs that Bart's paid for. We can make use of them."

Mrs Kelly beamed at the profit margin at the last page. "I will contact our Pacific counterpart and let them know that they should begin work in this project too."

Chuck raised his hand in a gesture to stop. "I don't want to begin work in the Pacific."

The blonde women furrowed his brows in confusion. "I would think you would jump at this opportunity. This will seal it for you. You would have the most successful freshman project in your company's history, Mr Bass."

"I didn't want anything too large scale right now." The US and Europe was giant-scale enough. "I'm starting a family, Mrs Kelly."

Chuck felt Harold assess him quietly. Despite his will, Chuck felt himself flush. "I just got married. I have a baby on the way."

"Well, dear, you have nothing to worry about. Bass Pacific has a very strong leader at the helm. I'll set up a meeting with you two. And Mr Waldorf, of course, if he wants to join." Mrs Kelly, bless her soul, seemed devoid of the corporate political agenda that reeked from Farrar. And because of that, the older woman seemed to not consider that the man in question had tried to wrestle the company out of Chuck's hands. "Oh what am I thinking? It's your uncle, Chuck—Jack Bass." Mrs Kelly turned to Harold. "Very talented man."

"Your wife knows what kind of leader he is. They working together a lot when you were—" Farrar arched an eyebrow, "—indisposed."

"This is still my project and my responsibility."

"Take it home. Think about it. Talk it over with your wife," Farrar suggested.

"She had a very astute business mind," Mrs Kelly remembered. The rest of the board agreed. "She did give Caruthers the idea to roll his marketing plan to the malls."

Caruthers nodded sagely. "It's given us a three forty two percent increase in sales from the time we implemented that."

Chuck had to wonder how many Bass functions his uncle managed to drag Blair into while he had been 'indisposed.' It had not been something he considered asking her. He threw a helpless look at his father-in-law.

There was not going to be any assistance to be had there. Harold seemed to be fascinated with the stories of his daughter's business mind. When the board shuffled off to their respective homes and offices, Chuck and Harold made their way to Chuck's office.

Harold crossed the floor to look out of the tall glass windows and into the city. Chuck went over to his desk and took a look at the folders marked for him. He picked up one and looked down at the numbers quoted. Chuck pushed his intercom button.

"Yes, Mr Bass?" Gina's voice responded.

"Gina, schedule a sitdown with Egr Vera. As soon as possible."

Chuck hung up the intercom, then saw his father-in-law looking at him. "Is there anything wrong?" Harold inquired.

"The quotation here is ridiculous. This was not what I discussed when they started building."

Harold shook his head. He sat in the chair in front of Chuck's desk and waited until Chuck settled into his. "You've been preoccupied since you came in late to your board meeting."

Chuck leaned closer to him and assured him, "Nothing. I was talking to Blair. I didn't want to hang up on her. She's been depressed about Yale and just having to stay at home at Eleanor's."

Harold's brows furrowed, and Chuck remembered that his father-in-law might be a little out of the loop, having only just returned from his Euro corporate run for Chuck. "Why is she still staying with her mother?"

"Before you left, Eleanor insisted that Blair stay in the penthouse," Chuck informed Harold.

Harold nodded in memory. "I thought that was only until the doctor could let us know was wrong."

Chuck sighed. "Apparently, Eleanor wants her daughter home until we were married." He shook his head. "We're married, Mr Waldorf," he said, his voice almost pleading. "Blair's getting frustrated by the day. She wants to go home."

"And you're getting as frustrated."

"Even more."

Harold gave a small grin, then patted Chuck on the back. "I'll talk to Eleanor."

"We'd appreciate it," Chuck said.

The intercom buzzed. "Mr Bass, the engineer will be by at three."

Harold stood up and said, "Well you take care of your business here. I'm going to talk to Eleanor."

~o~o~o~o~

Blair sat surrounded by the planners. In front of her was a selection of floral arrangements. In one hand, she could select a multicolored spectacle arranged in a low wide spread, with the highlights being the purple. On the other, it could be tall and simple, fresh like the stargazers.

She had already ruled out the tulips. They were too traditional, and if there was one thing she and Chuck just were not—it was traditional.

"Chuck's on his way. I mean, I've narrowed it down to two. Let's wait for him before we make our final decision." She looked up and saw Dorota standing in the corner of the living room, outside the circle of the wedding planners. "Have you seen my phone?"

Dorota shifted. She had made sure to keep Miss Blair's phone far away from her. The moment she received the Gossip Girl blast with Mr Nate and Mr Chuck and that rude question, Dorota decided to take matters into her own hands. "Still missing, Miss Blair."

Blair pointed to the flowers. "Which one do you think Chuck will like?"

Dorota shook her head emphatically. "I no speak for Mr Chuck, Miss Blair."

Blair rolled her eyes. "Then will you call Chuck for me? He promised he'd be here at four." Blair turned to Keith, the head planner. "What time is it?"

Before the planner answered, Dorota interjected, "It's quarter to four, Miss Blair."

At that, Blair relaxed, but the planner looked at Dorota in confusion. Blair turned to the planner. "Oh Keith, you're early. That's why."

Keith opened his mouth to protest, and Dorota laughed. "Yes, yes. I think planner excited." She glared at the planner.

"Of course they are." Blair smiled. "It will be the most talked about wedding of the year. And I want it in less than two months." To Dorota, she said, "Can you call Chuck to make sure he's on his way?"

Dorota slipped out of the living room and took out from her apron the phone that Blair had gotten for her on her birthday. She pursed her lips, because she did not want to run out of minutes. She just liked to text because it was little to no expense at all. She pressed the call button. "For Miss Blair."

It was Gina who answered her call. "I want to speak to Mr Chuck," she told the secretary. Dorota had seen Gina quite a few times. The woman took care of Chuck almost as securely as Dorota did Blair. Dorota even once heard a conversation between Blair and Chuck and found out that it was Gina who booked their honeymoon tickets.

"Mr Bass is not available right now."

"It's an emergency."

The urgent tone that came into the woman's voice satisfied Dorota. "Is it Mrs Bass? Is she sick?"

Dorota wanted to say yes, to hear the secretary scurry to get Chuck out of whatever seemed more important than a schedule with his wife. "Miss Blair is fine. I take care of Miss Blair."

"Dorota, is it?"

"Yes."

"Mr Bass is in a very important meeting."

Dorota gasped. "Why you schedule meeting with Mr Chuck at four? Mr Chuck late for Miss Blair!"

Gina paused. Dorota heard frantic typing.

"It four thirty. I lie to Miss Blair so Mr Chuck not in trouble!"

Gina sighed. "The meeting was scheduled at three thirty. It's spilled over, Dorota."

"Then you knock and tell him he late."

"This is important business. I can't do that."

"Wedding important business too!" Dorota insisted. "If Miss Blair get angry—"

"Okay, okay. You make sure Mrs Bass doesn't get angry. I'm going to do my best—"

"Best?" Dorota huffed. "You better do better, lady."

"I'll tell Mr Bass," Gina promised.

Satisfied, Dorota returned to the living room, where there were swatches of fabric on the coffeetable. "Hand me that one," Blair requested. The planner reached for the swatch. Blair grabbed her wrist. Dorota spied the glittering Cartier on the woman. She slapped a hand on her forehead forlornly. "Sweetie, I think your watch is too advanced."

"Miss Blair—"

Blair held up a hand to silence Dorota. She pulled herself up to her feet, then looked up when Harold made his way down the stairs. "Dad, I didn't know you were here."

"I've been home for about an hour. Your mother is not an easy woman to argue with." Harold chuckled. "Other lawyers tremble at my arguments. Your mother spits out hellfire and sends me scurrying."

That made Blair smile. Dorota held her breath. Maybe Mr Waldorf—oh she really was loyal to Mr Waldorf—could take Blair's attention away from her new discovery. She really did not want a stressed out Miss Blair. A stressed out Miss Blair meant a frantic Mr Chuck and less chance for Dorota to take care of a bouncing little Miss Blair.

"What were you trying to get mom to agree to?"

"Your husband, sweetheart, wanted me to convince your mom to let you go home."

Blair gasped. "Did you win?"

"Was there ever any doubt?" Harold returned.

Blair squealed. She shot up to her feet and ran to her father, forcing the group of wedding planners to move aside. "Daddy, you're the best!"

She waved at her mother, who followed Harold's path down the steps with Cyrus at her side. It was to Cyrus that she exclaimed, "I'm going home!"

Cyrus patted Eleanor's arm. "That's good to hear, Blair."

"I'm free!"

"For heaven's sake, Blair, this place is not exactly Alcatraz."

"And it only took a little over an hour to convince you," Harold pointed out to Eleanor. "I'm sure the guards at the Alcatraz took a bit longer than that."

"That's right," Eleanor replied. "You completely screwed up my schedule. You've eaten up my three thirty to four thirty."

"I'm sure you can still call, mom," Blair offered. "You're only a fifteen minutes late."

Eleanor smirked. "Honey, it's almost five. We should tell Charles to get you a new watch." Eleanor turned to Dorota. Dorota felt like her head was about to explode. "Dorota, help Blair gather some of her things. She's moving back with Charles immediately."

"Wait." Blair glared at the planner, then at Dorota. "So Chuck really is late."

"Mr Chuck in meeting, Miss Blair. Important one," Dorota offered.

Blair pursed her lips. She turned to the planners. "Let's reschedule."

"Blair, we need to lock on some things today if you want us to even try something as impossible as a grand wedding in two months," Keith said. "We still need to find a venue."

"We're doing it at the Palace."

"The Palace. It's booked solid until—"

"Janice—"

Blair's face grew red. Dorota clapped her hands together. "Miss Blair say the Palace. You do the Palace. Miss Blair owns the Palace." She waved her hands to shoo them. "You make new appointment. I take care Mr Chuck come."

Blair folded her arms over her chest. She shook her head at Dorota. "You lied to me, Dorota?"

She stomped up the stairs and muttered to her parents, "Thanks, dad. But I'm staying. Mom, keep Chuck away from me."

When Chuck came, Blair refused to open the door. Dorota winced at the thud on the door, figuring that it was likely one of the large pillows that Blair launched at the door.

"Blair, I'm sorry. It completely slipped my mind."

"I'm not going home with you, Chuck!" she yelled.

Chuck sighed and then turned his brown eyes at Dorota. "It was an honest mistake."

Dorota nodded. "It was Gina mistake. You go. I talk to Miss Blair." Chuck yawned. "You tired. Go home."

Chuck frowned. "We've got a doctor's appointment in the afternoon," he told Dorota. "It's our last one. I hope she's not mad anymore."

Chuck made his way down the stairs. Dorota entered Blair's room to find Blair packing up some of her personal items. She smiled and stepped closer to Blair. "Sorry. I not lie again."

Blair sniffled, but still placed some of her stuff in a bag. "Just help me pack. I'm moving back in with Chuck."

"Okay, Miss Blair."

"I'm so mad at him," she mumbled. She turned her tearful eyes at Dorota. "When he's always at work, and I'm always stuck at home, you'd stay with me, right, Dorota?"

"Of course, Miss Blair. But you have friends."

She shook her head. "Serena's going to Brown. Nate's leaving for Yale. Even Humphrey, ugh, is going away. I'll be left here all alone." Blair sniffled. "Everyone's moving on except for me. I'd be stuck growing fat and getting forgotten because my husband would always be busy with more important things."

"Miss Blair, you most important to Mr Chuck."

~o~o~o~

Blair made her way down the stairs with Dorota carrying her small bag. She stopped at the bottom step and squinted at the living room. She flipped on the light, then saw Chuck half lying on the chaise, fast asleep.

"Oh," Blair gasped.

"Mr Chuck very tired," Dorota told her.

"Go to bed, Dorota. Leave my bag by the elevator."

Blair waited as Dorota slipped away. Then, she walked towards the chaise and sat on the edge. Chuck slept with his mouth a little open. Her husband snored softly. Blair relaxed her shoulders, touched his cheek. She sniffled.

Chuck's eyes opened. His turned his lips to kiss her fingers.

"I'm sorry," Chuck said.

She shook her head. "It's not like I wasn't expecting it."

"What do you mean?" he asked. His hand closed over hers.

"When we got married," she confessed, "I knew it wasn't going to last. You were bound to grow into your potential, you know."

"You always did think I was better than what I was," he recalled.

Blair continued, "I was ready for it. I was going to college afterwards." That was why she had postponed her own admission to Yale. "But I had to be me, and I always keep falling for you." She sniffled. "And I can't even have college as a backup right now. I had to go get knocked up. I had to have been a bulimic in a high risk pregnancy. I'm the perfect candidate to be left behind!"

He sat up, his back aching due to lying down on a chaise. He placed his hands on her arms. "Blair, I'm sorry for missing today. But you saying to me you expected it—that just makes me feel like an asshole."

"Every couple who fell in love early—every one of them outgrew each other. Your stepmom and Mr Humphrey, my dad and his high school girlfriend, Cyrus and his first wife…" She paused. "Me and Nate." She released a shuddering breath. "You've got a Fortune 40 company and I'll be stuck at home regressing."

"That's impossible," he told her. Chuck kissed her on the lips. Blair smiled tearfully. "You are the most intelligent, most driven person I've ever known. You can sleep all day and still wake up learning more than I did the entire day."

She nodded.

Chuck frowned. "You're never going to be left behind." He kissed her on the forehead. "Do you believe me?"

"Sure," she whispered.

"Let's go home," Chuck suggested. She nodded. He stood up and offered her his hand.

tbc

AN: I was going to continue… I'm on a roll with this story. But I have to go get ready for church. Ta!