Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They belong to Cecily von Zeigesar and The CW.
I don't do this nearly as much as I should, so got to give Lori2279, my beta, props for helping me edit all these chapters and for putting up with my completely random questions. Thanks Lori!
"Congratulations, Mister Bass, you are how the proud owner of your very own home," the realtor stated as Chuck signed his name one last time to finalize the purchase. She appeared more relieved by the news than he did. Likely she was relieved that his wire transfer appeared to go through without any trouble, and she was in for a fat payday.
"Thank you," Chuck replied as he looked toward Blair who was smiling from ear to ear as he handed her the key to their new home, "Shall we go take a peek?"
"Yes, yes, absolutely yes," she nodded as she snatched the key out of his hand.
"Is there anything else?" Chuck looked towards the realtor for any further business that needed to be conducted.
"Nothing else," she assured him.
"Let's be on our way then," he replied as he offered Blair his arms.
As they rode along the familiar city streets, Blair was chatting happily about all the plans she had for decorating their home. From the sounds of it, the first room she wanted to tackle was the nursery. He listened to her in rapt amusement. Her eyes were twinkling. Her entire body seemed to radiate happiness. He loved knowing that he was responsible for that.
"Do you want to know if we're having a boy or girl before the baby is born?" she asked suddenly as she caressed her still nonexistent belly.
"I'll let you make that decision. If you want to know, then we'll know. If you don't, we'll wait until the baby is born," he replied.
"That's such a cop out," she smiled, "I was hoping that you'd have an opinion in this matter because I keep vacillating between wanting to know and wanting to wait."
"Honestly, I haven't given it much thought," he admitted.
"You haven't thought about it, why not?" she pouted as she extended her bottom lip.
"We've been a little busy, Love," he reminded her as he tapped her lip with his finger.
"We haven't been that busy," she huffed, "Have you at least thought about if you want a boy or a girl?"
"I haven't gotten to the point where I prefer one over the other," he replied, "I've imagined it both ways. There is something wonderful in having either. If we had a little girl, you could dress her up in those cute little outfits you used to wear. If we had a boy, I could teach him how to tie a bow tie and how to pull off pink and purple without getting beaten up."
"How did you manage that all these years?" she inquired as she ran her fingers rhythmically through the hair at the nape of his neck.
"The trick is to wear them confidently," he smirked, "It always helped to have a stunning beauty on each arm. No one is going to mess with a man with a bevy of beauties falling at his feet."
"Basstard," she scoffed as she backhanded his shoulder with her hand as he snorted with laughter.
"I love that I can still get a rise out of you like that," he chuckled as he brought his hand to the nape of her neck and forcefully brought her lips to his.
"Jealousy does not become me," she informed him.
"On the contrary, the flush of red currently on your cheeks is quite becoming," he smirked as he nibbled at her lips, "But I'll chance the subject if you'd like."
"I'd like," she nodded.
"Which room in our new home are you wanting to christen first?" he cocked a suggestive eyebrow in her direction, "Shall we start in the master suite?"
"Too obvious," she sighed, "And we don't even have a bed yet."
"Which can be quickly rectified," he assured her as he pulled out his phone with the intent of ordering the best bed in production and have it delivered within the hour.
"Easy there, Tiger," she chuckled as she snatched the phone out of his hand, "You don't just buy a bed by phone, you have test them first to make sure they have the proper support. We'll go bed shopping this afternoon. Back to the christening, how about we start at the bottom and work our way to the top?"
"Start with the staff quarters then," he chuckled, "I love how your mind works."
"We should get that room out of the way before we hire ourselves a housekeeper," she nodded.
"Perhaps we can hire Dorota away from your mother," he suggested, "Eleanor and Cyrus aren't around nearly as much as they used to be. She could end up being mighty lonely in that penthouse all by herself."
"I couldn't ask her to be responsible for a five story brownstone mansion when she's pregnant with her second child," Blair replied, "As tempting an idea as it is, no, we should find someone that is up to the challenge. Though it will be impossible to replace her, we will find a suitable alternative."
He nodded in agreement.
The limo came to a sudden halt. Blair turned suddenly to see their front steps. She pushed the door open with the giddiness of a little schoolgirl before Arthur had a chance to put the vehicle in park.
"Blair, wait," Chuck called after her as she flew up the limestone steps.
Forgetting the door was likely locked, she turned the knob. When it wouldn't give, she stomped her foot in frustration and began searching her pockets, forgetting where she had put the key after snatching it out of Chuck's hand at the realtor's office. Her hesitation allowed Chuck to catch up. His hand slipped into the one pocket she hadn't had the opportunity to check and produced the key. Quickly snatching it from him, she jammed it into the lock and turned it. She was about to step in when she felt Chuck sweeping her off her feet. She squealed with delight as her arms wrapped around his neck. As he crossed the threshold, his lips were on hers.
"For good luck," he smiled as he pecked at her lips again before he returned her to her feet.
"This home seems so much larger without any furniture to speak of," Blair replied as her voice echoed through the halls. Her eyes began darting back and forth as she continued to hear her voice carry. "We need to fix that because listening to my voice carry is going to get extremely annoying."
"And make it hard to track you down when I need to find you," he chuckled as his hands closed around her hips as they began walking through empty room after empty room, "Could I persuade you to wear a bell?"
"Forget it," she turned her head slightly to glare at him, "I'm not going to be your pet."
"How about I wear the bell?" he chuckled before he whispered seductively in her ear, "And nothing else."
"I think I could enjoy that," she smiled as he swept her hair away from her neck and lightly pecked at her nape.
"Yes, you will," he whispered darkly against her ear.
"We'd better find that staff quarters before we take this any farther," she stated as she spun around in his arm.
"First I want to hear your plans for renovations," Chuck told her.
"Chuck, we're about to christen our new home, the place where we'll live for quite possibly the rest of our lives. Are renovation plans really what you're wanting to talk about right at this moment?"
"If we're going to move in a week's time, there really isn't a moment to waste," he pointed out.
"I think we can spare twenty minutes or so," she replied as she grabbed a hold of his tie and pulled him in the direction of the staff quarters.
"Serena," Blair called out for her best friend as she and Chuck returned to their Plaza Suite after spending a few hours in their new home christening various rooms and then nearly getting kicked out of the furniture store while shopping for a bed when their test run became a little too inappropriate for the other patrons, "We're back."
"She's not here," Chuck informed her as he kissed her shoulder softly, "I asked Eleanor if it was okay for her to stay at the penthouse tonight. I was hoping to spend one last night in this suite with just you."
"Last night," she repeated in surprise, "Chuck, aside from the bed we ordered and will have delivered tomorrow, our home is completely unfurnished. We're not going to be sleeping there."
"You are correct in that you won't be sleeping there, but I will be," he stated.
"What! Why!" she exclaimed.
"There is a tradition that the groom and bride should not be cohabitating prior to their marriage. We've bucked enough of tradition as it is. I thought it best not to tempt fate any further," he explained.
"I don't care about tradition," she frowned, "I like waking up each morning with you lying next to me."
"And a week from today, I will be lying next to you for the rest of our lives," he assured her, "But for the next week, we can spend as much time together as you'd like during the day, but at bedtime I will be making the short trek to our home and sleeping there."
"Where did you come up with this asinine idea? Did Nate come up with this? This has Nate written all over it," she railed.
"Nathaniel had nothing to do with it. I thought it up all on my own. There is no outside influences coming in to play," he assured her.
"Then we need to have your head examined because this is quite possibly the worst idea you've had. Isn't this something that we should have discussed before a final decision was made?"
"Perhaps I shouldn't have sprung it on you in this way, and yes, we should have discussed it before I made the decision, but the end result would be the same. I'm staying in the manor tonight and through the next week starting tomorrow," he held firm.
"You're being irrational," she snapped, "There is nothing to be gained by you sleeping away from me…" A sickening thought suddenly took up residence in the pit of her stomach, "… unless you are getting sick of me. That's it, isn't it, you're getting sick of me? We've been together nearly night and day since we became engaged that you're feeling suffocated and need your space."
"I'm not sick of you," he stated as he took her in his arms despite her attempting to struggle from his grasp, "My motivates for this are pure. I want to do what is right by you – us. Our lives are rapidly changing in the next week. We're going to be husband and wife. Shortly after that, we're going to be announcing that we're having a baby. Everything is happening at such a rapid pace, we both need time to process all of this, and when we're together our focus is on other things, physical things. Think about this carefully, have you had a moment to yourself since we became engaged?"
Blair wouldn't dignify his answer with a response. She could feel the anger causing her blood to boil. She was so angry should couldn't even speak if she wanted to. This man could infuriate her like no one else ever could.
"We need to give our minds a chance to catch up before we make our relationship permanent," he told her.
"Get out," she demanded.
"What!" he exclaimed.
"I don't want to see you right now. You need to leave," Blair demanded.
"Blair," he tried to dissuade her.
"Leave right now before I do or say something that I'll regret," she snarled.
Chuck looked into her eyes to see they were black with rage. There was no calming her in this moment. He knew for her benefit and for that of their unborn child he had to leave, but each step towards the elevator felt like a knife stabbing him in the heart.
"Where is Arthur?" Chuck inquired. He was glaring at an unfamiliar driver that was standing in front of an equally unfamiliar limo. He hadn't even been thinking about the fact that he'd approved his driver's night off.
"He had personal business that he needed to attend to," the nervous driver stammered out as he opened the door.
Chuck barked the address to his brownstone mansion. Unfamiliar with Chuck's mood swings, the driver decided the best course of action was to get his boss to his destination as soon as possible when Arthur would have driven around the city for a while to allow Chuck a chance to cool off. Cutting through Central Park seemed like the best option, driving at a speed that would allow him to safely stop for any pedestrians that happened to veer into their path, but not enough for the family of raccoons that we crossing the street.
Chuck was irritated and annoyed as he sat in the back of the limo. He didn't know what to do with his rage. He hadn't felt this out of control in months. He felt the car swerving every now and then as the silhouettes of pedestrians flashed in the windows. That only added to his annoyance. His eyes began searching the limo for something, anything, anything that would allow him to escape the feelings that he was currently having. He realized he wasn't irritated or annoyed, he was scared, scared that Blair was going to call off the wedding and turn her back on him once more. The minibar came into view. Just as he reached towards it to pour himself a glass of scotch, he heard the screeching of tires. Suddenly his world went black.
TBC. . .