MONTH 5

Jennifer Humphrey Baizen sat perched as prettily as ever on the hand carved mahogany armrest of the grandiose red silk cathedra, her surgically plumped lips in a pout as she peeked at herself from a hand held mirror. The Baizen penthouse was completely airy, the huge windows open to the crisp October air as a full, lemon yellow sun shone in a nearly cloudless corn blue sky. Peering out the window, she made sure that no debris would float to the thirty first floor of the building before smoothing out her green silk gown again, eyes flashing towards the ornate silver gilded clock on the cream colored wall.

He was late.

Again.

Heaving a sigh, the Mrs. Baizen snapped her fingers as a plump, English maid quickly scurried her way into the living room, keeping her head down.

"Yes, Mrs. Baizen?"

Jenny waved a hand of dissatisfaction, inwardly cursing Carter for his lackadaisical tendencies as she sincerely prayed that they wouldn't be tardy to their own gathering. "Get me a glass of Moet, Claudia along with some tea cookies - the ones imported here from Surrey, would you? Carter's late as usual and I need something to occupy my time."

The maid quickly curtseyed again before quickly walking to the kitchen, inwardly grimacing at her mistress's confession. Although Jenny Humphrey Baizen did everything under the sun to mimic the mannerisms of a natural born UES resident, there were things that she lacked that were so blatantly obvious that one couldn't help but cringe at her antics. The very basics were the very things she did not possess - tact, couch, and practiced grace - there were items that were second nature to a true UES elite, things that were ingrained in them since birth. Taught by their mother's (tutors') knee and later reinforced by their father at dull charity galas and important polo matches; they were the vessels for underhanded economic dealings and political nettings, the portly English maid mentally noted as she pulled out a frosted wine glass. Nearly everything - from the decor to the utensils - had been hand selected by a deluded Mrs. Baizen who's glee at finally being allowed to negate a price tag had caused her to buy the most outlandish and ostentatious items at Barney's.

If there was one thing that a maid hated more than an incompetent or new money mistress, it was a new money mistress who thought she was old money. That just about infuriated every man or woman in the service industry; pulling open the liquor cabinet and selecting a relatively aged bottle of Moet wine, Claudia uncorked it with ease as he poured the dark, red velvet liquid into the glass. From within the sanctity of the kitchen, she could hear the platinum blonde walking about the wood paneled floors with impatience, huffing to herself and completely ignoring the fact that the help had ears as well.

Though Claudia would never openly admit it, she was somewhat thankful for her irritating mistress's constant bouts of speech - it starved away boredom, so that was a perk. Walking back into the room, Claudia willed her eyes to stay on the ground, willed herself not to look at the Mrs. Baizen's clownish hair and attire and prayed to just about every god she knew of that the Mr. Baizen would take pity upon the residents in the building and escort his wife away. The silver tray in which she carried the wine glass in was heavy enough for the red haired maid to focus her attentions on but that didn't stop the overdone wife of Carter Baizen from addressing her (another faux pas in high society - a good maid was looked at but not seen, never spoken to):

"Can you believe it? That jackass actually had the nerve to tell me that we might be a little late - honestly! I sometimes can't even believe I married him, me!" By this point in her life, Jenny Humphrey had completely forgotten she was a low bred girl of Brooklyn and started believing in the fantasy her brother and she created. Turning on her heel, the pale faced blonde grasped the wine glass in a fluid motion, allowing Claudia to catch a glimpse of the dark red platform heels that completely clashed with the overly shiny material of her lime green satin gown. Had the color been a tasteful dark or muted olive tone, had her hair been cut in a more conservative edge, and had she not used a grandiose shovel to apply her makeup, then the petite platinum blonde would have been rather lovely to look upon.

Except, Claudia sighed inwardly, the new mistress of the house of Baizen seemed to have picked up styling tips from Kati and Isabel.

Poor lass, the Irish maid intoned inside her head as Jenny continued to pound around the penthouse, completely ignorant of the fact that her heels would no doubt lead scuff marks on the polished oak floor, she doesn't know the first thing about society class and here she is planning a debut ball…she should know those things are for eighteen year olds not -

"Claudia, do you think now is the right time to have a baby?" The abrupt question snapped the portly housekeeper from her train of thought as her brown eyes snapped up to her mistress.

"Er…pardon me, madame?" Claudia managed to squeak out, her mind running completely blank. They do not teach you this at the seminars, by great god!

Jenny's own dark eyes narrowed at the older woman's in cohesive response, "I said: do you think now is the right time to have a baby?"

"Uh…if the madame thinks it's-"

"No, no, no!" Jenny snapped, crossing her arms as the wine slopped inside the glass, threatening to spill over. "I mean, I know I'm young and, you know," she waved a dismissive hand in a attempt at being what Claudia believed, to be modest, "but there comes a time in every woman's life when she needs to check her…you know, date." Raising an over plucked brow, the pale faced lady of the house gestured around, "I've been thinking that Carter doesn't really think of this place as home and what better way to make a man feel at home than by having a baby?"

Wrong again, lass! You don't make a man want to come home by having a baby, gee whiz…you make a man want to come home by acting half-way decent and not send everyone you meet running for the hills!

"Of course, I understand, madame."

"Wonderful." Giving a quick glance at the clock, the Mrs. Baizen sucked in an aggravated breath, "tell Carter not to bother showing up here, Claudia. Just tell him to meet me at the party, all right? And make sure he doesn't smell like a drunkard, god knows the last time he did that he nearly passed out on the waiter."

No! No, no, no! You don't show up to any event without a man on your arm! Claudia mentally screamed, even if it means showing up late or not arriving at all, you never attend a high class gathering solo! By Ireland's plains…

"Of course, madame." With those words, the older woman scurried into the coat closet, grabbing Jenny's favorite dark brown mink (even though it went as well with green and electric red as mud did with white lace) before returning with a practiced smile on her face. Holding out the offending fur, she allowed Jenny to slip in her liposuctioned arms into the softness before dashing in front and clasping up the ancient oval buttons, pretending to admire her handiwork. "Why, you'll be the belle of the ball tonight, madame! Just lookin' at you…"

Jenny gave a faux smile of gravitate before grasping her black leather purse from the small side table kept near the entrance of the house, "remember - tell Carter to meet me at the party. And in a suit, for goodness sakes." She fluttered her hands about in what Claudia guessed was supposed to be 'feminine distress' but it only served to remind the ruddy cheeked maid of two ailing pigeons falling from the Manhattan sky.

As soon as the door was closed and the Mrs. Baizen was gone, the red haired Irish woman allowed a breath of relief to escape her mouth.

"Thank all the Irish roses…" the short woman muttered under her breath as she began to make her way towards Mr. Baizen's office, "she's finally gone."

Chuck Bass was a man of many means - he controlled a company that was profiting exponentially with each passing day, his side businesses were growing in size and stature, and he had numerous politicians in his silk lined pocket. If there was any doubt that he had not already sniffed out Daniel Humphrey's dirty secrets, it was put to rest the moment any said stranger took a look upon his desk. Scattered across the heavy mahogany oak table (the one he kept in his office at home, not at Bass Industries) were numerous files and transcripts, all pertaining data about one Brooklyn born offender that the wealthy billionaire just couldn't wait to wash his hands clean of. It wasn't difficult to track down the boy's exploits - he'd made that so easy with his frivolous spending and causal hook ups with high end prostitutes (they all ended up pregnant, somehow). His globe trotting and funding for his father's pathetic restaurant in England which was doing surprisingly well (but what can one expect? Even rats must eat somewhere). The vast Van der Woodsen fortune was being squandered on pursuits so shameful that any true blue blood would cry in shame and agony but Chuck Bass would simply take it and use it as fuel for the destruction of said person.

Operation Alexander (otherwise known as getting back the Van der Woodsen fortune and destroying Dan Humphrey) had been put into motion by Chuck and Blair just a week after the Charity Gala. Serena had gone to meet with that atrocious Carter Baizen, which Chuck had only allowed because it gave him two hours of uninterrupted plotting time with Blair (though two bodyguards did tail the blonde beauty).

The moment Blair had walked into his home office, she had been dressed to do business: high heeled Prada booties, black lace leggings, a skin tight pencil skirt and perfectly tailored baby blue blazer with sharpened nails painted in a blood red lacquer. Blair Waldorf was ready for the kill.

"Might I inquire of the surprises the shrew has, now that we're actually working on the same purpose?" Chuck had teased as soon as the brunette had stomped it, intent on finishing business she considered long overdue (and in many ways, it was).

The doe eyed Queen Bee merely scoffed as she threw her Chanel coat onto an antique chair lying by the fireplace before sauntering over to his grandiose desk. "What do you have so far, Bass? I need foundations to work with."

"Well, if you'd care to actually use your finely paid for education to read the documents I've compiled, then you'd understand what you're working with." He'd replied, a dry, sarcastic drawl in his voice as the prim Waldorf heiress skimmed through cream colored documents.

"Faster if you tell me, oh brilliant Bass." Was her only retort; combined with her tapping foot and sharp, succinct sentences, Chuck had easily fallen into business mode and the plan was set.

Although Rufus Humphrey had been legally married to Lily van der Woodsen during the time of the escapade, she had a prenup created by a lawyer named Edward Harris as well as quite a few legal papers from her ex-husband, William van der Woodsen. In an effort to keep his wife from re-marrying without his consent (AKA, Rufus Humphrey), he had created several legal orders that required said spouse-to-be to match the fortune that Lily had as well as being able to fully support her solely on his own commission. However, in Lily's lust/love/whatever-pheromone-fueled-phase, she had overridden that contract but the details of it all wouldn't be accessible to Chuck for another three weeks. The fact of it was, there was something suspicious about how cleanly everything had handled - it wasn't as if Chuck was purposely condescend upon his girlfriend's mother, but the fact of it was, Lily van der Woodsen just didn't do organization.

From the moment she walked into a room to the second she stepped out, there would be a trail following her. And while the elder van der Woodsen woman may not pertain to stupidity, she certainly didn't know her way around the law. Combine that with her constant mood swings and denial in the months leading up to marrying Rufus Humphrey, Chuck doubted she had the good sense to hire a phalanx of lawyers to do battle for her. He knew without a drop of uncertainty that something had gone amiss in whatever secret legal battle was done behind closed doors (he had done enough of those to last him a lifetime) and the only witness he could think of was Eric van der Woodsen, who was probably halfway to China by now.

As if that wasn't aggravating enough, the Bass tycoon sneered, Daniel Humphrey seemed to have grown some brain cells since becoming a criminal millionaire; he'd hired a team of seemingly airtight lawyers to back him up in cases the would've required legal judging. His DUI in Sydney for instance, or his solicitation of an underage prostitute in California…his record was beginning to grown and the eagle eyed businessman knew that if he could scrape out one detail that showed he was misusing his presence to override law, then a court case would be given. A few moves here and there, some exposure done and Daniel Humphrey would be sentenced to prison and his fortune could easily be persuaded by Chuck through numerous means (bribing) to be given to his lovely step-sister, Serena van der Woodsen.

It was a fool proof plan, really…they just needed the details.

Underestimate a Waldorf and you get burned.

Underestimate a Bass and you don't live to see what happens to you next.

Serena had been clutching unto Chuck's hand as if it were a life line, she was beyond terrified of some random guy sticking camera into her parts, but the fact that the guy was actually allowed to do this bothered her even more.

"Nervous, S?" A rich baritone voice inquired as he smirked down at just how tightly his girlfriend's grip on his hand was.

The blonde shot him a glare, her blue eyes filed with warning. "Keep your mouth shut, Bass. Just be glad I'm not making you sleep on the couch for this."

"Me? What did I do?" He asked with mock innocence, the sly grin on his lips growing at the blue eyed beauty's exasperation.

The already crushing grip she had on his hand grew, "you knocked me up! Planted the bun in my oven! Stuck a wa-wa in my va-jay-jay! Put a-mmh!"

The Bass head's mouth was warm and familiar to Serena's own soft lips, the way his tongue caressed the cupid's bow of her lips before nipping playfully at her mouth usually caused all of the blonde's thoughts to momentarily be put on pause. The way he held her, so close that not even a credit card could fit in between them caused a small giggle to escape her lips - she loved Chuck when he was like this. Playful and protective, all man without trying too hard…just -

"Bass? Mr. and Mrs. Bass?" A bored nurse's voice called out as Chuck easily grasped onto Serena's ass, lifting her from his lap and gently setting her down before addressing the aged, silvery haired woman with a nod. Without so much as blinking, the old crone merely waved a hand over, "Dr. Neil will be seeing you now in room D-43-"

"Wait, why do they get to use room D-43?" A plump, dark haired woman demanded as she rose from the luxuriously cushioned seats of the Hospital of Columbia and Cornell. Surrounded around her were six children and a husband who was cradling a new born, the bags under his eyes as dark as his own hair. "That's the biggest room at the hospital, shouldn't we get the room? I mean, look at us here, really, we-"

"Anyway, Mr. and Mrs. Bass," the nurse continued, eyes unblinking at the woman's protest before continuing to lead the resident prince and princess of New York down to the screening room. Chuck merely smirked that trademark Bass smirk while Serena offered an apologetic smile.

"Humph. Rich little Manhattan hoppers…she thinks she's so good looking because she's young…wait 'till you're forty, princess." The woman muttered darkly before returning to her six children, four of which were beginning to cry due to their mother's heated speech.

The woman's words didn't go unheeded by the young A-listers of New York, but before Serena could voice anything she found herself hit by a gust of warm air. The cozy atmosphere of the screening room surrounded her as she entered the largely spaced D-43 screening chamber immediately soothed her nerves as she was hit by the sweet scent of lavender.

"Dr. Neil will be arriving shortly."

Was it wrong for Serena to be overtly giddy that she was having a boy? Here she was sitting on her and Chuck's bed, pouring over baby magazines and naming books, picking out paint and furniture, toys and cribs. She'd already selected her color tones: a soothing Spring day green and ocean blue - the nursery could be a haven for the entire family, a place of calming sanctity and peace. She knew that Chuck would have wanted chrome and indigo but she honestly didn't think a baby needed to be exposed to colors so harsh just after he was born! Just look at what happened to Bartholomew Bass - all those intense colors had caused the guy to hit the heavens before he even met his grandkid.

Or was that just an excuse as to why Serena felt so awful at the moment. She knew that her baby would be loved and cared for, given every luxury in the world at the drop of a hat…but that didn't stop the earthly Aphrodite from dwelling on the fact that her baby boy wouldn't know either of his grandparents from either side. Chuck's mother was dead and now so was his father; Serena's was estranged from her father while her mother had decided to disappear off the face of the planet - and there was no way in fucking hell she was going to allow her son to even rub shoulders with Rufus Humphrey.

Not over her dead body.

Biting her lip, Serena shook her head, determined not to think about such negative things. She was done with Lily. Really.

Glancing back down at the journal in front of her, she couldn't help but smile when she saw the names written down. She was torn between three: Micah, Alec, or Henry.

Maybe as Micah he would grow up to be a soft spoken charmer with a kind of Indie vibe, a gentle kind of authority in him that drew everyone closer but a commanding enough presence that made those below him obey.

Those below him? Ugh. She was starting to sound like Chuck.

As Alec, Serena could totally see him becoming a cool, blonde haired politician sort of businessman with a distance around him that bordered on godliness. He would be immaculate, commanding…an overachieving talent scope of something because really, Serena figured, how could you name your kid Alec and not expect something amazing out of him, hm?

And Henry. At that name, the blonde couldn't help but smile. It was a name that wielded authority from everywhere - it was the name of English kings and French princes, of American billionaires and entrepreneurs. Her baby Henry would be brunette, with Chuck's sharp good looks and her own wide, blue eyes. He would be a business prodigy and would wear Italian suits and couture bow ties…he would be like a mini-Chuck, Serena decided.

Henry Bass.

Has a ring to it. She smiled.

Henry Bartholomew Bass. Eh...no.

Henry Micah Bass. Maybe if he suddenly decided to hit the rode and make pottery for a living.

Henry William Bass. No. Her baby was not going to leave his future wife and children. Nope. No.

Henry Laurence Bass. Well...yes. Classy, charming, and just reeking of old money and splendor. Henry Laurence Bass. Serena cradled her stomach protectively although the tiny baby bump wasn't even noticeable, a bright smile graced her beautiful face.

"Momma's here, Henry," she murmured down, not feeling the least bit silly that she was talking to an embryo that probably couldn't hear a word of what she was saying, "and Momma's going to make sure you grow up to avoid being the train wreck I was…and the mess your daddy can be." The blue eyed mother-to-be chuckled slightly at the first descriptions of herself and Chuck to her son; no, they weren't perfect - not at all. But they were never going to pretend to be. They'd never fall for the trap of the UES - faking. Fakers. That's all they were.

And that's why they were all identical, why they were all courtiers and no known nobility.

This is why she and Chuck were queen and king. Because they were real.

"Bring me over everything on this...surprising event. Now." Charles Bartholomew Bass said to his receptionist in a voice so demanding that she just about sprinted from his office.

So Daniel Humphrey had a ah, abrupt encounter with a Miss Georgina Sparks? And now she was pregnant? Oh dear. He smirked as he pulled out a Cuban cigar from his left hand drawer; this couldn't have been easier. A trial will follow, publicity will explode and Chuck knows that Cabbage Patch will be forced into paying for the witch's child support fee.

Although this wasn't enough to merit a full blown allotment into the mystery that was the van der Woodsen fortune, it was a good start. The files about the transaction between Humphrey Senior and Lily would arrive within a few days (a phone call here, a letter there, a check cut overseas...); by the time anyone dug into Daniel Humphrey's ill gotten assets then…well, a Bass has very expensive lawyers on call. Always. And the judicial side was always willing to extend a helping hand to those who helped the United States economy as much as Chuck Bass did.

A/N: Okay, I was going to put more Dan into this but after I did, I realized just how long this chapter would be and decided to cut it in half for you! (Don't worry, it means quicker updates!) LOL, yeah I've resurfaced after a week long hiatus of sorts because I just needed time to gather my thoughts on this chapter.

You'll see there's not much Chuck/Serena interaction but that's just because everything's fueling up and I wanted you all to re-meet Jenny Humphrey and re-introduce you all to Georgina Sparks. Bitch is back! And she's here to play...

Trouble is going to come a-knockin' real soon which is why I gave you guys so much fluff for about four chapters...hehe...the plan being put in motion is going to come real soon as well as other baby related items! I can't say the next chapter will have more Chuck/Serena interaction but I can promise you that the chapter after that one will! (I think!)

Leave me a review! They help me to update faster!