AN: So, I guess you could say I was on a hiatus? Just know that I am incredibly sorry for my lack of updates. I was swamped with all my extracurriculars and school and work. But now I'm back, bitches.

...

"Mommy! I don't have a headband that matches!" Charlotte Bass yelled from outside her parent's ensuite.

"Char, please go find your father. He knows fashion too!" Blair replied from the bathroom. She was slumped by the toilet, head resting on the white tiled wall. She had been throwing up all night, and Charlotte's constant high pitched yell wasn't helping her nausea. Something about the shrill voice of a four year old... She heard her daughter walk away, patent leather shoes against oak hardwood, but a couple minutes later, she heard a knock.

"Blair, are you throwing up again?" His voice was soothing. It was new. Well, since the children had been there. Before the birth of his kids, Charles Bass rarely adopted a sympathetic and soothing tone.

She picked herself up from the floor and went to open the door. There was a permanent cold sweat on her brow, and her legs felt like they might buckle with every step. He was standing there, handsome as ever, ready for his day in business formal. "I told my secretary I would be taking a sick day." She spoke.

She was dressed in a ballet pink silk pajama set. She had dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and she seemed paler than usual. "Did you help Charlotte with her fashion emergency?" Blair managed to smile.

"I did, and your son had one too. Something about how his bowtie didn't match his sweater vest. I just think he hates the St. Judes uniforms." Chuck pulled her into his arms, her body seeming more delicate than usual. "You kind of smell." He pressed his lips to her hair.

Blair smiled. "I understand if you don't want kiss me, then."

"I will never not want to kiss you." He pulled away from her embrace and pressed his lips to hers. In times like these, romance and love didn't mean sex for the Basses. It's security and the best routine possible. "I'll come back to check on you later." He smiled, kissed her forehead, and swiftly walked out of the room.

Blair sighed and climbed back into bed. This was going to be a long day.

...

She was awoken at 12:30 exactly by a shift on her bed, brunette curls, and high pitched giggles.

"Mommy! Auntie Serena picked me up because daddy had a meeting with the Russians from Cyprus and I had to show Aunt Serena where Cyprus was on the map and Daisy thought it meant lemonade."

It was times like these when Blair wished she had a less articulate and worldly 4 year old.

"Is that so, Charlotte?" Blair sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Serena had appeared at the door at that point with Daisy by her side and Jonah on her hip.

"I told her to not wake you up, but she insisted. You look awful, B."

Blair rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Serena." She turned to her daughter. "Char, why don't you go show Daisy your new American Girl Doll?" Charlotte jumped off the bed and ran out of the room with Daisy behind her. Serena approached the bed and produced a CVS bag from behind her back. She sat on the bed, and Blair opened her arms for Jonah to come snuggle inside. "I do really miss them being this little. I used to think 2 was too old, but children are so perfect at this age."

"Don't get my little boy sick, though." Serena smiled, handing the CVS bag to her friend. Blair started through the contents. "I got you Us Weekly, ginger ale, some Tums, and -"

"S! I'm not pregnant!" Blair yelped, pulling the slim pink box from the bag.

"I think it's a possibility. Look, I did my research-"

"For you, research means Wikipedia." Blair interjected. She was glaring now.

Serena rolled her eyes and continued. "Did you go back to the doctor 3 months after?" Blair looked anywhere but at Serena. "Blair! Did you?!"

"No, okay?! I trusted the doctor, and I didn't want anyone else looking at Chuck's junk!"

"Please don't say that in front of my child..." Jonah's eyes were wide, but he really had no clue what was going on. While Daisy was talkative, Jonah was much more of the silent type. Dan claimed it was from him, whereupon everyone present would roll their eyes.

"Fine, I'll do it." Blair threw the comforter aside, and got up to walk to the bathroom, pink box in hand.

Serena smiled and pulled her son onto her lap. The door to the bathroom slammed, and Serena yelled, "Jonah and I are going to get a snack! Come down when you're done!"

"I'm sticking my tongue out at you!" Blair yelled back.

"Love you, B!"

...

In the next 10 minutes, Blair Waldorf Bass had proceeded through all the stages of grief with startling pace:

She was in denial while on the toilet. No, this wasn't actually happening to her. Serena was delirious, and the reason she hadn't had her period in 2 months was because she was starting menopause at 32 years old. The throwing up was simply the stomach flu.

Anger hit her as soon as she was peeing on a stick. Blair Waldorf Bass was so above peeing on a stick. Being uncertain of pregnancy was for 16 year olds living in trailer parks.

She bargained as she examined her clothed body in the full length mirror. She was totally willing to start menopause at 32 as long as she wasn't pregnant. I mean come on, hot flashes aren't that bad.

Guilt was next. If only she had made Chuck go back to the doctor. Arguably his hands and tongue did as much good as his package, and people saw those things all the time! Well, maybe not his tongue...

The depression came in the form of a single tear down her cheek. She felt herself going into a darker place. That was until she thought of the joy her children as babies had brought her. Henry's giggles as she watched Chuck turn into the best father ever. Charlotte wrapping herself around Chuck's finger, and the first time Blair put a bow on her head. First steps and words that it would be lovely to experience again.

She had a smile on her face when she finally went to look at that pink stick.

Blair had always strove for that extra plus sign. Next to grades in school and now the grades those young and hip fashion bloggers would give her new lines.

This time was no different, and there it was. Clear as day, a little pink plus sign.

...

AN: Fun fact: the money in Cyprus's banks is 600% of their GDP. Most of that money comes from Russian businessmen trying to evade certain taxes and banking regulations. Anyhoo, I'm sure none of you care about Cypresean banks, but you do care about that curveball I just threw you. I bet you all saw it coming a mile away, though... Ammi right? Tahtah for now, lovelies. It's good to be back... xoxo