Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They belong to Cecily von Zeigesar and The CW.
Had to repost.
"Blair," Chuck called out for his wife when he awoke the morning after their wedding to find her half of the bed empty and cold. His call was met with silence. He quickly donned his robe and began his search through their bedroom and bathroom to find her.
When his searched didn't produce his wife, he went towards the only other finished room in their home, the nursery. There she sat, wrapped in an ivory satin robe, her feet propped up on the ottoman, reading one of the fairytales from the book he'd gifted her with the previous evening out loud as she caressed her abdomen. The mobile above the crib was spinning as it played its soothing lullaby. Chuck stood against the doorframe, trying desperately to commit everything about the moment to memory, as she had the most serene smile on her face.
"How long have you been standing there?" Blair inquired as she closed the book, having finished the story, to find him standing in the same spot he'd been since he'd found her.
"A few minutes," he replied as he crossed the room quickly and knelt next to her.
She leaned in and greeted him with a kiss. "Good morning."
"How long have you been awake?" he inquired as he caressed the smooth fabric at her shoulder when she relaxed against the chair.
"Two stories worth," she replied as he reached towards the sash at her waist and pulled it open.
"I finally see it," Chuck stated as he spread the fabric apart to reveal her abdomen.
"See what?" she inquired as she tangled her left hand into his hair as he bent forward and kissed her stomach.
"This baby bump that you have," he spoke against her skin.
"It's about time," she chuckled as she tugged lightly at the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. "This room is just as beautiful in the natural light."
"Did you sleep well?" he inquired.
"When I was allowed to sleep, yes," she nodded, "But someone kept waking me up."
"Yes, that was rather rude of me, wasn't it," he chuckled.
"Hmmm," she hummed happily as she stretched, "Is it possible to have such a perfect moment such as this? Maybe we're still asleep."
"Then lets hold onto this dream for as long as we can," he whispered as his lips continued to ghost along her abdomen.
"I love you," she sighed happily.
"The bed was so cold," he groaned, "And I was looking forward to waking up the first morning of married life to the warmest bed ever."
"I guess we should have registered for an electric blanket," she chuckled.
"Weren't you the one that requested that we wake up this morning in each other's arms?"
"And my wish came true," she responded with a twinkle in her eyes, "When I awoke this morning, I was wrapped in your arms, and you were wrapped in mine. It's your fault that you didn't wake up at the same time I did."
"I believe I can make a case for it being your fault," he replied.
"How could you not waking up be my fault?"
"I believe that on our first morning of married bliss, you should have taken the initiative to wake me," he replied as he lifted his head to deliver a devilish smirk.
"But you looked so incredibly peaceful," she pouted, "I didn't have the heart to wake you."
"Come back to bed with me," he requested as he pulled on her hand to coax her back to bed.
"Make me an offer tempting enough to leave this cozy chair," she baited him.
Chuck rocked back on his knees to take in the vision before him. She radiated happiness out of every pour of her body. The satin highlighted the tropical glow she'd managed to retain after their tropical vacation, and thanks to the remoteness of their destination, there wasn't a tan line to be found.
"Are you done ogling yet?" she teased as she shifted slightly under his intense gaze.
"I'll never be done ogling you," he smirked.
"Make me an offer," she requested again, "I want to know what you're willing to give up to get me back into your bed."
"My freedom," he offered, "My hopelessly pathetic nomadic lifestyle that I used to pretend was satisfying."
"You've already given that up," she smirked, "How about something with a little monetary value?"
"I actually do have something that fits the bill," he replied as he stood up and entered their baby's walk in closet. He returned with a small jewelry box that he'd hidden when we'd brought over the box of fairytales he'd given her the night before.
She reached for it immediately, but he pulled it just out of her reach. "Before you get all grabby, I have to give you a little explanation because this isn't my usual lavish gift. This one is a bit more sentimental."
"I didn't realize you were the sentimental type when it came to things like jewelry – limos, I understand," she replied.
"These were my mom's," Chuck told her as he opened the box and revealed the silver apple earrings to her. "My dad gave these earrings to her just before they moved to New York City. He told her that he was determined to conquer the 'Big Apple' but until he did these earrings were all he had to offer."
"They're beautiful, Chuck," she smiled as she ran her fingers along the velvet fabric that the earrings were nestled in.
"Bart wasn't sentimental about much else, but these earrings were his kryptonite. When he held them, his heart was on his sleeve. It usually on their anniversary that he retrieved them from his safe, but there were a few other nights too," Chuck explained, "It was the one night a year I could ask any question and get a real answer, and he was usually too lost in his memories to look at me with his usual distain."
She reached out to gentle caress him, hoping to coax a smile from his somber face.
"I want you to have them," Chuck stated as he extended the box to her, "They were her favorites."
"I'll wear them on very special occasions," she replied as she took them.
"Is the offer satisfactory to get you back in my bed?" he inquired.
"More than satisfactory," she nodded, "But I think we should christen this room first. It would be a little weird if we waited to christen it until after he or she is born."
"Agreed," he chuckled as he rose to his feet and hovered above her, "And I think we should see just how sturdy this chair is before the manufacturer's warranty runs out."
"That is the cheesiest thing I think you'll say to me all day," she laughed as she pulled the sash of his robe to bring him closer.
"The day is still young," he chuckled.
"So are you going to solve the mystery as to where these carts of food appear from?" Blair inquired as he rolled the second meal of the day into their bedroom. Breakfast had magically appeared shortly after they'd returned to their bedroom after starting their morning in the nursery. Now lunch had arrived. Nowhere in sight was the mysterious figure who delivered it.
"My little secret," he winked.
"And they brought the New York Post," Blair frowned, "Why the heck would we want to read that gossip rag today?"
"Don't you want to see the glowing reviews for your gown?" he inquired.
"Honestly, I could care less about what they have to say," she replied, "After the stunt that they pulled, they are lucky we don't sue for defamation of character."
"We really don't have much grounds for such a suit," he replied, "They did print the truth."
"Then invasion of privacy," she stated, "We are private citizens, and our neurosis should have keep kept private."
"The longer we dwell on it, the more power it gives these people," he replied.
"What happened to this being one of those labels you don't intend on wearing?" she glared at him.
"It was you that told me I should not be ashamed of this, wasn't it?" he inquired.
"Yes," she nodded, "Because there is nothing to be ashamed of, but I also know you. You may pretend that people knowing this isn't bothering you, but I know better. We both saw the looks yesterday that some of those well to doers were giving us at our reception."
"I was so focused on my gorgeous wife, I didn't even give anyone else a second thought," he replied.
"Fine, give me the paper," she replied as she motioned for him to hand it over. "Maybe they'll have some interesting story regarding the arrest of Georgina's dimwitted husband… You know what bothers me about that entire ponzi scheme? Georgina's husband seemed so utterly clueless. His fortune was clearly inherited. How the heck was he able to sell the scam to anyone? He must have had an accomplice."
"About that," Chuck stated as he pulled the paper away just as she was going to grab it. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough and it was out of his hand.
"Chuck, did you know about this?" Blair gasped as she saw Jack's ugly mug splashed on the front page. "Your uncle was arrested yesterday before our wedding. Why the heck was he even in the city?"
"I…um…" Chuck faltered for an answer.
"You knew," she concluded, "Did you see him? Was he here to ruin our wedding?"
"Yes, and no," Chuck replied, "I saw him; we spoke. I was the one to have him arrested."
"For what?" her eyes went wide in surprise.
"When I uncovered the dirt regarding Philip's involvement, I had no idea that there was another player involved in the scheme. It wasn't until I talked to the FBI that I was told that Jack Bass was actually the real face of the scandal," he explained.
"Why is this the first that I'm hearing about it?" she glared at him, "You had so many opportunities to tell me during and after the groom's dinner."
"Because I wanted nothing to ruin your day," he explained, "And I didn't want you to worry about me."
"What aren't you telling me?" she pressed her lips tightly together.
"The FBI asked me for help," he explained, "Jack had covered his tracks very well. The only way to truly tie him to his crime was to get him to confess. So yesterday morning, I left Lily's a little earlier than I had originally planned and went to my parents' graves. Jack showed up. We argued about his scheme with Elizabeth, he congratulated me on becoming a father, I about tore him to shreds for what I thought to be a threat he made towards you and our child, and then somehow I got him to confess. It was almost too easy. He didn't know I had a recorder in my pocket. As he was leaving the cemetery, thinking he was as free as a bird, he was arrested."
Blair sat in stunned silence for a moment as his tale sunk in. "Wow," was the only response she could give.
"Wow," Chuck nodded.
"You managed to kill two birds with one stone. You got rid of Jack and Georgina at the same time," she added, "We're going to have to find you some sort of cape because that has superhero written all over it in my book."
"You're not mad at me for not telling you?"
"I'm a little mad," she corrected him as she slapped his shoulder with the newspaper when he came within reach, "But I'm decidedly more grateful. Your uncle gave me the creeps. I cringe at the thought that I voluntarily let him touch me the first time. I want to peel away my skin at the thought of what I almost did the second time. If I never see Jack Bass again, I'll be a happy camper."
"You may get your wish," he replied, "He's likely going to jail for a few decades, maybe longer."
"Hopefully longer," she stated.
"I'm sorry I ever let Jack near you a second time," he began.
"Water under the bridge," she waved off his apology, "I've made my peace with that."
"I don't deserve you," he cooed as he leaned in to kiss her lips.
"Well you're stuck with me now," she smiled, "So you might as well enjoy as much of me as you can."
"I think I will," he chuckled as he pushed the cart aside as he climbed into bed, "Lunch can wait."
TBC. . .