a/n: Hi & welcome to this little Dair fic of mine I spontaneously ended up starting to write on my phone on Easter when I was suddenly struck by muse - badly. I'm not sure just how long this is going to turn out or how much time I'll have to update it since I currently lead a very busy life but I'll try to whenever I can if anyone ends up reading it (otherwise I'll just write it for myself tbh because it demands to be written down somehow haha) I'm probably also going to keep the chapters on the shorter side since in the past I was all for length and time skips and flashbacks all wrapped up in one chapter until it got horribly confusing for some readers so let's just see how this works out for me. The plan is to only focus on Dair shipwise but if you want me to get other characters/ships involved, I might be able to but I'm not making any promises (but nothing's going to mess with Dair unless I can make it work in flashbacks, guaranteed endgame for lyfe) There will also be flashbacks for sure to explain the current setting a little better. The title is a play on the Mia March novel 'Finding Colin Firth' because it inspired me to write this type of story after finishing it (although the plot of the novel really doesn't have much to do with the plot of this story other than it being quite focused on motherhood I suppose) and if anyone knows where I stole the small town that Blair now calls her home from, you're officially my favourite reader. This first chapter is just a really small teaser meant to slightly introduce you to Blair's life as a small town girl xoxo

The ever-present breeze filled the streets of Cabot Cove, a little fisher's town in Maine, with the all too familiar scent of the sea Blair Waldorf had gotten so used to by now. It had been nearly five years since she had turned her back on her former Upper East Side life and settled down in the provincial small town - surely, to all of her friends' surprise if only she had disclosed her whereabouts to any members of the old crowd. But she hadn't. In fact, she hadn't seen any of them in years, a few unfortunate run-ins aside that had - sometimes only nearly - occurred when she was forced to return to the UES which thankfully didn't normally happen. The only one from her past who was still present in her new life was the most faithful soul a girl could ask for - her beloved Dorota, still willing to tend to her every need whenever she had the chance. Not that this chance arose all too often - Blair couldn't have made her give up on her life in New York and relocate her entire family just for her. Perhaps the old Blair Waldorf would have, Queen B, but this new version of her would never dare to put her needs first like that. Besides, Dorota had still fully been there for her when she needed her the most, without limitations whatsoever, and her gratefulness for that would never ebb away or even cease to amaze her; it would last her a lifetime.

Getting out of her silver Prius - yes, it had taken moving to a small town for Blair to learn how to drive but how she wished she would have taken lessons sooner - she hurried up the steps of Cabot Cove's daycare center, her heels clicking violently on the pavement. She couldn't be late again, could she? She had made sure to close the store five minutes early to ensure she wouldn't receive another complaint. Nothing compared to being scolded by a four-year-old that occasionally proved to be a little too much like her mother was at her age. Hurrying down the colorful halls decorated with various results of arts and crafts hours, the brunette found herself at the right door within seconds after entering the building, skipping a polite knock and instead pulling it open straight away, gaining herself a curious look from wide, deep brown eyes.
"You're early." The small girl managed to state matter-of-factly as well as with a hint of surprise in her voice, her pink, heart-shaped lips morphing into a light pout.
"Are you going to scold me for that now as well?" Blair asked with furrowed brows, her breathing still slightly unsteady due to her apparently unnecessary sprint.
A brief moment of silence emerged before a wide smile took a hold of her daughter's face.
"No. I'm glad you're here already." She declared cheerfully, still kneeling on the floor but immediately jumping to her feet to hurriedly say her goodbyes before she rushed to her mother's side and reached for her hand, happily accompanying her out of the building and to their car.
"Are you going to be this early every day now?" The girl inquired curiously, a hopeful twinkle in her eyes.
"You could come five minutes later, you know. Most moms do so that would be perfectly alright."
"Well, I got tired of you constantly complaining about being the last one to be picked up, C." Blair stated dryly, tenderly squeezing her hand prior to continuing in a softer tone.
"But we'll see. Maybe not this early. I'll have to try and find the right balance so please be patient with me." She requested sweetly, once again amazed by how articulate her daughter was at her young age - nothing uncommon for UES kids but that she had been able to convey her own good upbringing in a small town in the depths of New England without any professional help apart from Dorota visiting for a few days to a week per month as long as she was able to filled her with pride.

On the car ride home, Blair had been assured that her efforts were greatly appreciated but much to her dismay, mini-Blair used the opportunity to sugarcoat her most burning question once more.
"I get it. I mean, the other mommies get support from the daddies." The voice she was hearing from the backseat was nearly sheepish and instantly, the brunette was glad that Dorota wasn't due in Cabot Cove until next week - she knew exactly what she would have said had she been present:
"Miss Blair, don't you think it time you tell Miss Cynthia about Mr-"
At this point, Blair had always managed to efficiently cut her off so far - Lord knows what might have happened otherwise.
Most likely, it would have led to the most uncomfortable conversation Blair could possibly envision herself having with a four-year-old that was wise far beyond her years.
A vision of nightmares if you asked her.
"Well, good thing your mommy doesn't need support from anybody." She replied with determination, absolutely ready to drop the topic.
"You won't be the last one to be picked up anymore, you can stop worrying about it, Cynthia."
Cynthia nodded shyly, adjusting the hairband taming her brunette locks, her hair at least a shade darker than her mother's. She wasn't naive enough to not notice that she made Blair uncomfortable whenever she mentioned fathers in general but that discomfort sadly only sparked her curiosity, igniting a burning fire inside of her ever so often she had trouble extinguishing time and time again.

This time, the spark had started a wildfire that could not be put out, no matter how hard she tried, happenings at daycare having considerably contributed to the urgency of her question - she at least had to ask.
"Mommy..." She began shyly, chewing on her lip as she struggled to muster the courage to go through with her inquiry.
Blair's ears perked up, her eyes widened with a hint of hidden fear, already guessing that her daughter hadn't dropped the topic just yet or her tone wouldn't be as fearful. But she remained silent, patiently waiting for her to utter her request.
"Mommy, do I even have a daddy?" The quiet question lingered in the limited amount of air between them, weighing it down considerably. Blair swallowed. If only her daughter wasn't so goddamn clever. It was nearly impossible to get out of this question without a lie or an answer she wasn't exactly eager to give. Thus she found herself choosing her words wisely, her lips pursed during the process.
"Of course you have a daddy." She replied eventually, cautiously. "Everyone does in one way or another."
"Really?" Cynthia asked excitedly, nearly sounding surprised. "Are you sure about that?"
"Oh yes, I sure am." Blair struggled to suppress a small snicker. "Even your birth certificate says so and I doubt legal documents of that kind aren't reliable sources."
"Yeah? Oh wow..." Cynthia gasped, a hopeful smile catapulting the corners of her mouth skywards. "That's great. You know, next week, we're supposed to explore our family histories in daycare and when they mentioned we should know a bit about our families on both our mommy's and our daddy's side, I had to tell everyone I didn't have a daddy. Miss Bloomwood and Miss Fletcher seemed to believe me but the other kids wouldn't until they made them stop asking me about it." She explained, her excitement ostensibly decreasing with every sentence upon realizing that she hadn't quite crossed the finish line yet.
Granted, her mother's confirmation that she did indeed have a father - in one way or another - was a leap forward but this didn't automatically mean she would also be willing to disclose his identity just like that. The prospect of being so close to scoring but then missing the goal by a few inches after all depressed the girl - and Blair couldn't help but notice, a familiar sadness, caused by motherly love and compassion, taking a hold of her as well.

Pulling into the driveway, Blair sighed, taking a deep breath. So this was it. The moment she had been dreading for nearly five years by now had finally come. Her biggest secret to date had caught up with her, relentlessly begging her to share it, at least some of it. Stopping the car, she turned around to face her daughter, a brave smile on her lips although her instincts told her to run and hide and not come out of her hiding spot for a couple of days.
"C, you do have a daddy. And I suppose it's time I tell you about him if you really want me to."