Author: MegamiTenchi at fanfiction.net

Oh lord, the world is ending! I wrote a fic with a baby baixo in it. Exploration of one of the millions of ways the end of Season 4 could go. Rated K, though it's really weepy.

Chuck followed the butler through the halls of palace. Every o espaço was full of light and he found comfort in this, thinking yes, she belongs in a place like this. It was a long walk, but at last, he was led into a room. He had no illusions that his visit could possibly be anything good, but he was disturbed not only to see Blair and Louis, but several advisors, and Princess Sophie. He looked at Blair, and his coração ached. She was glowing, radiant, holding Louis's hand, and he told himself once more, she belongs here.

He took the assento that was offered to him, and his brows furrowed at the papers, and images, on the mesa, tabela before them. Blair reached out to him, still holding Louis's hand, touching his leg, "Chuck…"

"What is this, Blair? I can see," He gestured to the assembly before them, "this must be a rather critical situation."

"Chuck," Her eyes locked on his, "I'm pregnant."

"While I'm happy for you both, I don't see how that…" Blair's brown eyes were still focused on him and she nodded her head in acknowledgement of why he had been brought here.

His coração leapt a moment; he and Blair were going to have a child. No…. Louis and Blair were going to have his child. The room was quiet as he turned this new information over.

Princess Sophie was the first to speak, "It is not Louis's. We would like to make sure that it is yours."

A gentleman swabbed a sample from a still very dazed Chuck's mouth. It gave him just enough time to collect his thoughts, "Then what?"

Blair would not look at him, and it was Princess Sophie who continued to speak. "We are not certain. Though you and my son have a similar appearance, this child has no legitimate claim to the line of succession. It's existence is nothing but damaging."

Chuck watched Blair as she winched at the princess's words, and he had to cut her off, "Let me take it."

Blair looked at him with wide eyes, and the princess sputtered, "I'm sorry?"

Chuck pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought for a moment, trying to focus, and be detached enough to build a strategy. "Let the people think the child died during labor. Worse lies have been told I'm sure. We can secretly draw up papers so the child is legally mine, we'll bury the truth in paper work."

"Chuck…" Blair whispered.

"No one will be surprised at Chuck baixo suddenly having some potentially illegitimate child. Please…" His eyes shifted to Louis, "You have Blair. Let me have my child."

Blair turned into Louis's arms, and he held her. It made Chuck feel ill, how could life be this cruel? The princess and her associates were whispering for several long minutes. Finally she turned, "When we confirm it is yours, we will draw up the paper work and make the arrangements."

Chuck nodded, and stood to take his leave. He leaned down, beijar the topo, início of Blair's head, one hand sliding down to stroke the beautiful long brown curls he would always love.

He watched her in the papers, her tummy growing rounder and rounder as time passed. There was no communication between them, there could not be, it was too risky. So his busied himself in other ways. Chuck moved out of The Empire, buying a sumptuous penthouse, on 5th Avenue, so he could be near all the best schools and the park, just like Blair had when she was a girl. The baby suite was large, much too large for an infant, but as the child grew, it was clear it would want for nothing. He spent hours meditating on his choice of names. He did not know if it would be a boy or a girl, but he wanted the name to be perfect, no matter the gender. It was only a few weeks out from when Blair was due that he enviado his names, secretly, through his PI.

The birthing was awful. The physical pain was one thing, but Blair sobbed from the emotional torment of it all as well. Hours passed, and she could only mourn that this child would forever tie her and Chuck together, yet keep them apart. She could never leave Louis, and she could never know her first child.

It was a girl. A perfectly rosa, -de-rosa little girl; the nurses tucked the girl in Blair's arms for a moment, and she kissed her. One fotografia was taken- just one, to be hidden away, only to perhaps be seen again after Blair ceased to exist, a bittersweet twist in her biography.

"Tell me her name?"

"Diana Cornelia Bass."

Blair wanted to cry, but the labor had left her so exhausted. They took Diana from her. Louis stroked her hair as she signed the birth certificate with her last ounce of strength. She watched her daughter go as her heavy eyelids dropped.

Hours later, under the capa of darkness, Chuck waited for his daughter. It only took moments for his entire life to change, when little Diana rested in his arms, snuggling there as if it were the only place she belonged.

The people of Monaco mourned with Blair at the loss of her child. It took months for her to slowly come back to life. The greatest thing to breathe life back into her was when Chuck began composição literária to her. Once a month, in an unsigned letter to Louis, Chuck wrote to them about Diana. This little thing let Blair mover progressivo, para a frente in time, and she could find some closure, and comfort, knowing her little Diana was safe, and growing.

Chuck had no idea how his father had done it. All at once he understood, but did not, at the same time. Chuck adored Diana, he loved holding her, listening to her coo, and seeing her smile up at him. Yet he understood the pain he father felt at looking at him all those years. Diana was every bit her mother. Her brown eyes were bright, her lips were full, and when her hair grew longer, it was darker, like his, but it grew in soft little waves.

He was on the floor playing with Diana when it came on the news. Blair was there, with Princess Sophie, holding each other as cameras went off around them. Louis… where was Louis? He could not process fully what the news was saying. There had been an accident.

Blair felt dead. Like her husband. Only she was not, and she had to endure this suffering that was life. She loved him and he was gone forever. The light and warmth of Monaco could no longer touch her. She wore black, sometimes blue, her hair always pulled back. Life had taken so much from her, there was nothing left.

On the six-month anniversary of Louis's death, the princess and Blair visited his grave. Blair knelt down and fondly traced the letters of his name like he had once traced the lines of her face. Why did he have to go alone? Why did he not take me with him?

"Blair." The princess's voice was it's usual stern tone, "I'm stripping you of your title."

Blair shot up and shouted, "Why!"

"Because there is nothing left here for you. Louis would not want you to waste your entire life away in the palace- you are so young. When we return to the palace, I will make you Countess of Belfort, for all you have done for Monaco, and I am sending you back to New York."

The princess took Blair's hands in hers, and looked into the her eyes, "There is a life waiting for you there. Live it, live the life my son will never have."

Blair hugged Sophie then; words were simply not enough.

That morning was the first time Blair had worn color in so many months. Her hair was in gentle curls that bounced just slightly as she walked into The Palace's Istana restaurant. Her coração leaped when her eyes found Chuck, a pretty little white perambulator seguinte to the mesa, tabela holding all of his attention. She felt light with excitement but it was difficult to mover her feet, each step feeling surreal. At last, she stood before him, and his eyes met hers. He stood, and made a slight bow.

"Princess, what are you doing? You shouldn't be here."

"No, this is the one place I should be." She smiled and kissed him.

He was breathless when she pulled away, and she whispered, "And it's Countess now."

Diana cooed from her pram, and Chuck lifted her up. "Well, Countess, I believe you've never properly met my little Princess."

He placed Diana in Blair's arms, and he knew. His life was complete.



A one-shot to celebrate my first six months of composição literária fanfiction!

I know she's tired of hearing it, but once again, I send my endless gratitude and amor to Bella, The Very Last Valkyrie, for being kind enough to respond to my little review and in turn, becoming an amazing friend and the reason I ever started writing.

An extra heap of amor for Aylssa, GGFan73104, for the prompt (strawberry, table, scratch, five years after 4x22)

The biggest heap of amor however is to you- the readers. We authors like to talk about how we right for ourselves, yet it would be so much less fun and interesting without all of you! Thank you for all the fun, joy, and happiness you've given me in these first few months.

Rated M, is that really any sort of surprise with me?

The maître d' seated him in his usual corner seat, out of the way, where he could simply relax and observe other people, rather than be observed himself. Leaning his head back, Chuck closed his eyes for a few blissful moments. The waiter sat his scotch on the mesa, tabela and he sat progressivo, para a frente once more, opening his eyes, they landed on her. His coração thudded.

Oh, the distance five years had put between them. You need to let me go. I need to let you go. He had been right; but so had she. Across time and space, she was already pulling him towards her; their amor would always bring them back together again. Though he knew- he was Chuck Bass, he knew everything, his eyes focused on her left hand, still barren. However, she was dining with a man. He was relieved and irked all the same.

Blair and her… guest were already finishing their meal with dessert. He cursed that she would be leaving so soon after he had arrived. He licked his lips expectantly as he watched her pick up a ripe morango from the little bowl of frutas before her. The whiteness of her nail against cerise flesh made his mouth go dry, his mind thinking of those nails scratching him, digging into his body until blood bloomed scarlet under her fingertips. If she had only scarred his body, he would not feel this way.

His pulse pounded, and his mind schemed a way to get close to her. Their pull was undeniable, not just to him, but to her as well. Suddenly, he stood from his assento and moved through the light and the shadow to fall in her line of sight. His eyes met hers, his smirk in place, beckoning to her.

It was dreamlike; the way she stood, and then walked passed him, towards the bathrooms. He turned after a moment, and followed her. His coração was racing as his hand pushed the cold door open. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket; her perfect mouth was hungry for him as they kissed. The years, the hurt, anger, desperation, and indifference fell away.

He stilled her a moment, turning to lock the door. Backing her against the tiled wall, he pinned her body to his and saw her eyes flash in acknowledgement of what was coming next. She spoke, "I should never have come back to Manhattan."

Chuck smiled at the breathy need that twisted into the timber of voice. "You always did enjoy an element of risk," He tore the front of her dress down with a savage eloquence, "a hint of danger."

Her hands reached to pull open his trousers, "But you were the one with a penchant for public places."

He pushed up the saia of her dress, jade slipping up over porcelana thighs. He began to lean into her, "The only thing I have ever had a true penchant for... is you."

His fingers slipped back and down to grasp her ass, pulling her up, closer to him as her legs wrapped around his waist. Their skill was flawless as ever as he sank deeper into her core. His name fell from her lips, so much potential lost, so much desire rediscovered anew.

The feel of her against him, around him, brought back every memory of her - of them that he had carefully buried away, flaming red and blue, peony pink, and glittering diamonds. Fate had been cruel to them, so he fucked her harder, his fingers bruising her flesh, his lips burning against hers with all the heat in his burning heart.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck as she sobbed in his collar, the pleasure of climax mixed with the sorrow of time lost and a amor they could never escape.

It was but a few mais moments before blissful agony overtook him as well. He was desperate to mark her again after so long, to smear away the illusion that there had ever been a dia since that first dia that she had not been his... all his. She was hot and wet around him, and he met her ardor, coating her, hot and sticky, so deep inside.

They adjusted their appearance but he knew she could never hide the haze of passion in her eyes. He grabbed her, pulling her- brown curls, perfect curves, sharp wit, heart, and soul, back to him and kissed so tenderly. Her mouth could never deny him the truth, even if she tried to with her words. He felt it; he would not let her go this time, holding her in his arms, "Stay with me."



Snapshots

Nate strolled out the hotel in Mayfair, slipping his aviator shades over his eyes. The sun was shining in the city today.

Woke up in Londres yesterday

Found myself in the city near Piccadilly

His back was to Lilywhite's as he pondered the famous marquees, his gaze slowly drifting down, settling on the statue of Eros.

Don't really know how I got here

I got some pictures on my phone

Snapping a fotografia with his phone, he flipped through the device. The lost Summer made him realize how lost he had been this past year; how lost he still felt.

New names and numbers that I don't know

Address to places like Abbey Road

He and Chuck had met many new and interesting people, but Nate could not find the feeling he sought, that connection, and sense of purpose. Looking back up of the statue of Eros, Nate smiled. Traveling felt good, the air of a different place against his skin, after all, he was trying.

Vanessa grabbed her camera as she said goodbye to her flat mate. She stepped out into the rua to record life as the sun was slipping down towards the horizon, the edge of Barcelona.

dia turns to night, night turns to whatever we want

We're young enough to say

As she filmed the city around her- life, history, movement, she smiled.

Oh this has gotta be the good life

This has gotta be the good life

This could really be a good life, good life

She paused for something cool to refresh her. The boy behind the counter handed her a drink, smiling broadly. She blushed a little as the cool glass met her fingers. This is what she needed.

Say oh, got this feeling that you can't fight

Like this city is on fogo tonight

This could really be a good life

A good, good life

Serena was on the phone with Lily when the producer waved at her.

To my friends in New York, I say hello

My friends in L.A. they don't know

Where I've been for the past few years or so

Paris to China to Ohio

She said goodbye to her mother, smiling. Her skin was bronzed from all of the California sun, a cool breeze tugged at her loose blonde hair as she joined the producer, who was stooped over a monitor.

Eric knocked on the door of Dan's room.

Sometimes there's airplanes I can' t jump out

Sometimes there's bullshit that don't work now

He found Dan sitting in the window seat, an old copy of the New Yorker in his hands, a look of pensive contemplation, yet also loss, confusion, and a little sadness.

We are god of stories but please tell me

What there is to complain about?

Blair reached for Louis's hand.

When you're happy like a fool

Let it take you over

She smiled when he turned and kissed her.

When everything is out

You gotta take it in

Chuck stretched in his large bed, alone, not sure which city he was in this morning. He reached for his breakfast tray.

Hopelessly

I feel like there might be something that I'll miss

He discarded the newspaper as soon as he picked it up- the moment his eyes fell on the image of her. She was smiling, and it made him happy, but it also stung, burning in his chest.

Hopelessly

I feel like the window closes oh so quick

Dan closed the magazine. leitura his piece on Serena could not even shake the thoughts of her dark haired best friend from his mind.

Hopelessly

I'm taking a mental picture of you now

Louis smiled as he looked at Blair as they walked hand and hand through the jardin exotique. She turned her head to look back up at him from the flor she had leaned down to study. His heartbeat quickened as her eyes drank him in.

'Cuz hopelessly

The hope is we have so much to feel good about

Blair mirrored his smile, and held his hand a little tighter.

Oh this has gotta be the good life

This has gotta be the good life

This could really be a good life, good life

…We are the God of stories

So please tell me what there is to complain about?


When Serena had arrived at his hotel room and forced him to pack, Chuck was thoroughly confused. She carted him out the door and all the way to the baixo jet. She would not, however, say a word as to why or where or what was going on. He could hazard a guess, but that just made his chest feel tight and stirred feeling he wanted to lay to rest.

Hugging him goodbye she at last said something of consequence, "Hotel de Paris, Grimaldi Suite." and then hastily departed.

Monaco. During the fight there he felt incredibly restless. There was only one thing in Monaco, and it was the one thing he had ever given up in his life. Serena had sent Chuck to see Blair. But why? Was this all one of Serena's less than well thought out plans, or... did Blair ask for this?

Upon landing, Chuck could not mover fast enough. The drive was too long, the car too slow. Yet when he stepped into the Hotel de Paris, it became difficult to move, or even breathe. He felt he was moving in slow motion; he subconsciously held his breath as the door to the Grimaldi Suite opened. Dorota greeted him with a smile before leaving, and closing the door behind her.

And there she sat. The woman he would always love. His coração ached to look at her; she wore a pretty little purple and white dress and was bathed in sunlight as she sat at a little mesa, tabela in front of the large terrace windows. She was reading, and he smiled as he approached her. He reached out and lifted the book from her hands. He could see her glaring at him as his eyes fell to the page.

Though she was cruz that he had taken her book from her just as she was finishing the page, Blair now drank in the sight of Chuck before her. He looked heavenly in a grey suit, the color was deep, with a fine lines running through it, and he looked at início in his purple tie, though the little purple, white, and rosa, -de-rosa pocket square made her coração flutter. Chuck wearing rosa, -de-rosa was his coração on his sleeve, even the tiniest pop of it.

He switched the pronouns on the page as he read it to her, his voice solid and strong, sounding like something on which she could build her life, her future. "If you press me to say why I loved her, I can say no mais than because she was she, and I was I. Michel de Montaigne"

After a pause, she murmured, "Chuck baixo is a romantic. Who knew?"

He looked up from the page at that, the memory shaking him as his eyes locked on hers. Had it truly been so long atrás that they had started and stopped abruptly, beginning a cycle that covered years, and had brought them to this place? Years… but how was it in his heart, it only felt like yesterday that he has swept her across the floor in Cooper-Hewitt? The night he realized she had been mais than a passing fancy, a captivating angel, but that she had stolen his heart- and that he never wanted her to give it back.

His gaze made her cheeks flush, and she rallied her strength and countenance. Gesturing to the assento on the opposite side of the little mesa, tabela she asked, "Will you not sit and have chá with me?"

A slightly wounded look passed over his face a moment and she knew he had hoped for more- for something difference than this patina of civility and protocol. But she needed it to make it through this.

He sat, setting the book back on the table, feeling lost as she prepared the tea. Chuck silently watched as she busied herself with the chá service- there was no need to ask how he liked it; she already knew. Because she knew him- all of him. He wanted to ask why they were in the Hotel de Paris and not the royal palace; he wanted to ask why he was here. But he waited, and his gaze drifted to the tiered assortments of cakes and cookies. Intrigued, he lifted a amendoim shaped cookie from the plate as she set the teacup, xícara de chá before him. Eyebrows raised, he looked at her as she turned pink, "Nutter Butters? Are these not a little pedestrian for a Princess-to-be?"

"I…" Blair had no idea where to begin to explain any of it, her eyes dropping down to the floor, "It's a hangover from… from…"

She closed her eyes, focusing on the words she had to say, "My pregnancy."

Silence. After several beats of her heart, she opened her eyes to look at Chuck. His face was enigmatic as she searched every curve and line and she knew it was only the first line of many before he could see the picture she saw. So, she kept going. "I miscarried last week. The doctors said it was probably the stress of everything…"

He saw her discomfort, and hearing of her pregnancy left him purely in shock- too much to process. Now to hear she had miscarried, had been in pain, and he was not there for her… it twisted in him. He had wanted her to be happy, but stress… a miscarriage. He reached out and held her hand, hoping it would be a small gesture of comfort she might allow him. At his touch her eyes met his again.

What Blair saw in those beautiful brown eyes cracked the delicate frame she had set them in, and everything poured from her. "I tried. You wanted me to try. But here… all of this- it isn't my world. The Princess, Louis, his sister, the royal court, it is all so tight. There is never any slipping away, into a dark limo to escape into Louis's passionate embrace, or running off and crashing a bar mitzvah while the rest of society is distracted. And when I found out I was pregnant…"

Chuck held her hand a little tighter as she spoke, trying to take in the implications of what she was telling him. He had trouble believing it, until her left hand reached up to tuck an errant curl behind her ear. There was no flash from the large yellow diamond on her finger in the warm sunlight. His head began to spin and he felt the room tilting. Then she completely shook his world.

"The baby was yours, Chuck. It was ours." She corrected, her hand grasping the fabric of the dress around her stomach, "When I lost the baby… it was too much, it was a sign I could not ignore. I lost you… I lost our baby… I was losing everything- everything that had meaning to me."

As she spoke these words, Chuck sank from his chair, kneeling before her and laying his head in her lap. The weeks of numbness he had felt since that night with her instantly fell away and all those lost emotions crashed down upon him. Her hands passed through his hair and he breathed, simply taking in the feel of her, her touch, and her closeness.

"Please Chuck. Take me away. A yacht, an island, anywhere; I want to hide away with you… I need to be with you and only you. lost in you until I feel I've repented every mistake, every error, every tear, and every moment of anger I've felt since my 17th birthday and nothing but happiness… and love, remain."

Her certainty reached down to the very center of his being and he knew this was not a dream. She lifted his face from her lap and he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks. "Aren't you going to say something?"

"I… I…" And suddenly it was the White Party in the Hamptons that summer all over again- except the complete opposite. He was not afraid of his amor for her; instead he was so overwhelmed por it that even the words paled in the light of what he felt for her. So he reached up to cup her face and pulled her down from her seat. Staring into her eyes, his thumbs brushing the tears from her cheeks, they knelt before one another, and… he kissed her.

In that kiss was his entire life tying together. A future opened to him that he had never truly dared to imagine. They had said they would always amor each other. Now, they would always be together. Bound por amor and passion, marriage, and all the children they wanted. He saw all this as his lips met hers, and he pledged it to her- to them both, as they came together.

Blair's head swam in the felicity of the moment, his touch, and his kiss. She held onto him tighter as the tender kiss began to escalate, and she felt the world start to fall away around her. His hands were hot and urgent as the ran over her back and hips all at once causing delicious flames to erupt under her skin, while cursing the fabric of her dress for keeping his skin from hers. Abruptly he pulled entirely away from her and a desperate cry fled her lips at the loss of him. But before her eyes could flutter open, she was in his arms, and he was beijar her again as he carried her to the bed.

Softly, he lay her down on the cama watching her eagerly slip out of her dress as he hastily removed his suit coat. Blair reached her arms out to him and he came to her. Their kisses were equally feverish; he removed her bra, his tie was gone, and her fingers commanded the buttons of his camisa to open. This dream… was real. And it dawned on him all that could go wrong if this turned out like the time before. The thought pained him, and he pulled his head up, looking down to met her gaze when her wide eyes opened to him. His voice was gentle, a tiny note of pleading, in need of reassurance underneath it.

"You sure?"

Blair smiled up at him. He had freed her that night at Victrola and she had been sure in the back of the limo when he had asked her. The years since then had only deepened the now undeniable assuredness in her coração that they had always meant to be Blair and Chuck, Chuck and Blair. So she reached up and held his face in her hands, the fear and excitement and longing suspended in the air, humming between them, "We were both right that night at Constance."

Chuck's coração raced, he thought it might burst into pieces or suddenly stop all together. The things they had said the night they had said goodbye, they were true. But they were also only half true, and none of it was right. He was about to die in her arms in that brief pause, before she at last continued.

"I deserve my fairytale. And I don't have to make my own. But what I hadn't realized is that I was already living in my fairytale… my fairytale is you, Chuck. And it will never have its happy ending until become Blair baixo and we spend our lifetime ruling over New York together, and raising our children."

His small apprehension crumbled and he kissed her, knowing now he would never go another dia of his life without beijar her. Within the seguinte few moments, they were at last completely naked. He slipped between her legs, and she held his face in her hands once more, her eyes full of so much amor as he came to settle his hips between hers. "I amor you."

It was strong and perfect, like her, as he rang in his ears and set his soul alight. He pressed into her the tiniest bit, hovering on the edge of their joined future. "I amor you, too."

He buried himself completely inside of her. They both cried out, closing their eyes against the wave of pleasure, as they became one, and the power of two lives merging. Her hands dropped down so that Blair might cling to him as Chuck, slow and strong, moved against her.

The emotions were overpowering and Blair's beauty, the amor for him she had radiated from her. Her hips rose to meet his and he thrust into her, faster… harder. There was no holding back, and the fear of what they were about to commit to grasped him a moment. Did she mean to start their family so soon? His voice was low and raspy, "Blair…"

"Yes…" She cried, feeling him so hard inside her, reaching so deep, "Come in me, Chuck." At this, she locked her legs around him, proving her dedication and desire.

He felt it pull deep inside him. His body shuddered and all their hopes for their future surged into her. Chuck held her after that, beijar her forehead and caressing her skin, stroking her hair. A small laugh rumbled in his chest, "I think the chá has gone cold."

Blair grinned up at him, shaking her head. In retribution, she climbed atop him, and began the long hours of their reunion until exhausted satisfaction pulled them to sleep. When she stirred once more, she felt Chuck's absence before she confirmed it with her eyes. The lamp on the nightstand was on, and she feared it had been a cruel dream until she felt how slick her legs were from all their efforts, and her eyes fell to his tie and jaqueta strewn on the floor. At that moment, he walked back into the bedroom, cellphone in hand. She knelt on the edge of the bed, as he walked back to her, and wrapped her arms around his torso, resting her head against his chest.

Her sweetness and the feel of her made him smile. "We leave in the morning for a private island in the Maldives. One month, just the two of us."

Then, Chuck pulled away from her so that he might kneel on the ground before her. Blair's eyes went wide as he gazed up at her, "Chuck…"

"No…" He pressed his index finger against her sweet mouth to stop her, "You know what I am about to ask. But I don't want an answer today. I want an answer when you are whole again, when there is distance between these past months- this past year, and our perfection is ours alone and untainted por the shadow of yesterday. So I will ask you everyday until the dia you can say yes because you know, see, feel, and believe in our future. Marry me, Blair?"

He smiled up at her, and though she already knew, saw, felt, and believed in what they would have together, she understood what he wanted from her. It had been so long since they had been together as a real couple, and it was too soon after Louis, after the miscarriage, to say yes to him. So she smiled back at him, and then playfully pursed her lips as she pretended to think a moment, looking as if she were contemplating the perfect accessory to go with an outfit. Refusing to speak the word no- for it was not a no, it was a… soon, she shook her head no, and smiled again. He hugged her then, and pushed her back, pinning her beneath him on the cama and began beijar her again.

Their mês hiding away in the Maldives was all Blair needed and more. They mended the time and hurt between them, walking on the beach, soaking in the sun, and loving one another. They played together, cooking, swimming, and making amor whenever the desire beckoned to them.

True to his word, Chuck asked her everyday if she would marry him, and she shook her head… not yet. He asked her on the beach, over dinner, watching the sunrise, under the full moon. But she was waiting for something… and finally, she had to wait no longer.

She stepped out of the bathroom in a pretty little purple negligee. He was sitting in a lounge chair catching up on the news as he waited for her, clad in nothing but soft silk pajama bottoms. Blair plucked the paper from him and took him to bed, holding his hand. She crawled into the center of the bed, kneeling, and pulled him to cadastrar-se her. He had not yet asked her today, and her ever observant eyes saw earlier the little black box sitting on the nightstand. Holding his hands in hers, she stared up into his eyes. "Chuck…"

It was a question, a pergunta in procurar of another question, and a little smile tugged at his mouth, as she tugged on his heart. "My love… my dearest Blair… be mine, forever, as I am yours? Marry me?"

He watched her smile, her happiness so pure and beautiful, completing his own. Lifting his hands, she glanced down as she placed them on the flat of her abdomen, then looked back up to his face. "Yes."

Chuck's eyes were wide as her realized where his hands rested. And… she had finally said yes. It was too perfect, and he wanted to shout his joy to the heavens. But his voice came out soft and broken, "Blair?"

"Yes… I will always be yours. Our love… and our future already grows inside me. Make me your wife, Chuck."

That night they made sweet amor in their perfect bliss. The diamond sparkled on her finger, heavy with the promise of their dreams for the future, yet light with his amor and belief in her. She fell asleep in his arms, their intertwined fingers resting above the place where their firstborn grew inside of her.

AN: Omg, how fluffy was THAT? And you know I don't do the baby thing… so really, good job at breaking me on this one, Elizabeth! Lol! Again, happy birthday!

Leave a review? Let me know if your teeth fell out from the sweet sweet fluffiness of it all?



Soaking

This fractures off of 2x08 as an alternate way (ahem, mais satisfying way) for things to go, with a very open ending. A lot of inspiration came from Kensley-Jackson's version/spin-off, which I adore, God Always Watching Miss Blair, so forgive some similarities?

Thank you and kisses to Georgia (CheeryFan) for a hasty read-through/edit!

Happy Birthday to GGFan73104, who also found out she passed her board exams today! I told you that you are amazing Miss A :D

Rated M, because she would have it no other way, lol. Her birthday prompt was silk, rain, and stairs.

He kissed down her arm, slipping further and further down her body, his hot mouth on her skin. Closer… and closer… her breath shuddered and her coração was racing.

Knock knock knock.

Blair shot up in her bed, her cheeks flushed. Dorota stepped into the room; "You are late, time for breakfast."

"I'll be down in a minute; I just have to finish something," Blair hurriedly replied.

The maid stepped towards the door before pausing and turning back, "God always watching, Miss Blair."

Blair sighed before grinning and falling back into her pillows. If God was always watching, then he already knew what Chuck and Blair did to each other, and her needs this morning were was hardly a surprise. Her hand slipped back under the covers, underneath her negligee. Her own fingers were a poor substitute for him as she shoved them into her wet heat.

"Oh… Chuck!" She quietly panted to herself.

She imagined his skin pressing against hers, the scent of his cologne; the things he could do- had done to her with his mouth…

His tongue…

His hands…

His fingers…

His…

Her mouth fell open, breathing harder, pushing her hand harder, faster, her desperate imagination trying to change the feel of satin sheets to warm buttery leather, trying to change her self-pleasure into the wild passionate things only Chuck baixo could do to her. Thinking of him only made her hotter, wetter, the tight sensation burning low in her stomach tightening mais and mais and more…

Until it broke. A gleeful little cry escaped her, as she came wantonly into her own hand. She smiled happily a moment in recovery before frowning. Fucking Basstard. He was pushing her to insane lengths, all because he would not take her. Just because she was in amor with him- because he was in amor with her!

She threw her comforter aside with an annoyed huff. This whole thing was ridiculous. I'm Blair Waldorf! She told herself while checking her complexion in the mirror. But even after her extra time in bed, thoughts of him still lingered in the back of her mind, bubbling up to torment her while she dressed, while she ate breakfast, and when left for school. And she was getting hot and bothered again just thinking about him.

Under her umbrella, Blair tried to distract herself por thinking of her classes and who needed to be crushed or reprimanded today as she walked to school. Anything to not think about him- she clenched her teeth, to NOT think of him, to not think of him, her fingers in his hair while his mouth claimed hers.

She needed to get to school. NOW.

But think of the devil, and he doth appear, in his sleek black limo, with its warm buttery seats.

"Want to get in? I would amor to give you a ride." His voice had that cocky, impetuous tone that she loved so much.

Her perfect rosa, -de-rosa glossy lips made a sweet little smile as she turned to look at him. "I'm sure you would. Too bad you've made the terms of that arrangement impossible."

"About that. Maybe I was a little too hasty?"

She stopped and turned to fully face him.

"Come on. Get in."

"Maybe I don't want you anymore?"

He cocked his head to one side and pouted up at her with his pretty brown eyes. "Don't torture me. I'm dying."

Her smile slipped away and Blair took several steps towards the limo, but Chuck pushed down the door's lock when she reached out for the door handle, their faces only inches apart. "All you have to do is say those three magic words."

Blair was outraged, "I hate you!"

Chuck's face was unforgiving as the tinted window rose up, and her mouth fell open a little in shock… and disappointment. He drove away and she collected herself before resuming her walk through the rain. I hate you!

Talking to Dan and Serena later on helped nothing. And when she saw Chuck in the hall, he stealthily slid his hand under her saia when he passed by, his fingertips briefly grazing her bunda and her silky La Perla's. It took all her willpower not to hormonally jump him in the middle of the hallway. So in proper form, she huffed at him and continued to storm down the hallway. Once out of sight, she threw the girls out of the nearest restroom. It only took a few minutes; violently grabbing a hold of the bathroom stall door with one had and leaning against it, she forced herself to orgasm. She had to take the edge off, or she would never survive her remaining classes.

Even still, she only barely made it through the rest of the day. Everything was reminding her of Chuck. Every subject in her classes seemed to point back to Chuck. It was suffocating and she could scarcely breathe.

Later on in the halls, Chuck saw Blair head to the caixa de escada, escada that led to the roof access. He was about to follow her when Nate stopped him to whine about something. Luckily, it did not keep him long, and he was soon climbing the stairs.

She just needed some air. She looked down upon Madison Avenue and up at the grey sky. The cool air quelled the fogo burning inside- a little. So she closed her eyes, just breathing for a few moments.

"What are you doing up here all alone?" Chuck purred in her ear, "Thinking of me? You know how I amor rooftops."

Her skin crawled at the feel of him standing behind her, the heat radiating from his body, intensifying the few inches between him and her. Her voice was defensive when she replied, however, "You wish!"

"So you're not distracted with thoughts of me? But, you're positively soaking." She could hear the smirk in his voice, and she pressed her thighs together in denial.

"I am not!" She whirled around to face him, her eyes dark in defiance of his accusation.

Chuck reached out, her coração racing at the fact that he was going to touch her.

His fingers wrapped around a strand of her very damp hair and his smirk became even mais wicked, "You mean you didn't notice it's raining?"

Blair pursed her glossy lips and she huffed a moment in frustration, "You disgust me!"

She pushed past him and, he tried to grasp her arm, but she easily pulled it free without pausing, storming back to the stairway. "Blair!"

She had wanted to cry at his touch when his fingers curled around her arm- oh, his touch! When the door slammed shut behind her, she finally stopped moving and leaned back against the mural of the stairwell. Chuck was never the type to run after a girl, so she knew she had a moment to close her eyes and gather her composure before heading back to the halls. Idiot! She thought, never mind that she was soaking- in both senses of the word.

Suddenly the door was thrown open with a fury. Her eyes flew open, to see Chuck, who looked as startled to see her, as she was him. Her coração instantly began racing again and she mentally screamed at herself in frustration. What she could not know was that Chuck had exactly the same problem.

Which is why in the blink of an eye, his hands were wrapped around her waist and his mouth was pressed furiously against hers. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as his tongue pushed into her mouth, a low groan escaping from deep within in response. Oh God… her mind swam, full of heat and light and desire. She was not going to let this stop until she was satisfied. Her hands traveled over his chest, down to his belt, pulling it open with a clatter, before greedily unfastening his trousers.

Now it was Chuck's turn to groan. He was still returning her desperate kisses while his hands curled around her arms and shoved her back against the wall. His mouth dropped down to his favorito spot on her neck, his hands running up under her skirt, over her ass, until they grasped the back of her thighs, one finger pulling her La Perla's aside. And like the well-trained lover he was, coupling with the only woman that mattered to him, he hoisted her up effortlessly. Blair responded, wrapping her legs around him and he sank into her, instantly consumed with a blaze of pleasure. His teeth scrapped against her neck a moment in blissful agony before he groaned, "Blair…"

Blair half-orgasmed when he entered her. "Oh God! Chuck!"

Thankfully, he stilled inside her for a few heavenly moments, letting her body revel in the feel of him filling her so completely. But then her hips bucked against his impatiently, wanting more, needing more.

"Please…" she whimpered in his ear, her body trembling against him. Slowly, he pulled out, listening to her little cries as he bit his lower lip at the effort of it, every fiber of his body screaming no, in protest. He hastily slammed back into her, much to both their pleasure. So he thrust into her, over and over again, his hips never seeming to jerk hard enough or fast enough to cool their burning need.

Blair clung to him, panting, her mind reeling in the pure ecstasy of being with him… with Chuck. His mouth was pressing against hers again, his tongue gently coaxing her lips to part for him. A spiral of thoughts and feelings made her want to cry with happiness. His arms were around her, holding her so tight, his body against her, filling hers.

Chuck heard and felt her whimpers against his mouth. He smirked and pulled his mouth away and leaned in to purr in her ear once more, "Yes, Blair… come… come all over me."

fogo climbed up her spine at his urging, consuming every nerve in her body, causing her muscles to seize-, her arms, her legs, and deep inside. Her voice broke and cracked as she cried out his name.

In response, Chuck's hands had slid down to her ass, his fingers digging in hard; he pounded her down against him with violent need, until the same fogo that was tugging deep down inside of him burst in a haze of white. He groaned her name and sank his teeth into her neck to control the riot of pleasure that was pulling him apart.

They silently clung to one another, letting the roaring of their heartbeat in their ears quiet and slow. When he sat her down, and they pulled apart, they did not dare look at one another as they fixed their clothes. It was Chuck, who first peeked at Blair, his signature smirk returning. "I told you that you were soaking wet."

Blair's head snapped up and she glowered at him, "I'm hardly alone in that respect now, am I?"

His smirk altered slightly, into a kind of smile… the smile he wore only for her. But Blair held steady, and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. She started down the stairs, only turning to glance back up at him from the landing. Quirking an eyebrow, she casually asked, "Coming, Bass?"


Queen

She was the queen. Everyone knew it. Of their class, of their school, of this island. It was all hers, lying in her dainty little palm. The die always fell the way she desired, because she was the one to cast it. She was flawless, and no king was ever the right suitor. Dark or fair, brown eyed or blue, she traded one for another with each event of the social calendar.

Where Blair was the light, Chuck was the quiet darkness. Her darkness was secret- alluded to por those who feared her, where his greatness, his beating heart, was lost in layers of smoke and mirrors and shrouds. They would collude together on occasion, when the scheme necessitated it. Because of this, his hidden coração was bound to the darkness only he could see in her, and she always knew he was there, for all shapes had shadows, and even the queen of Hearts for her beautiful frontispiece had an elaborate, intricate backside.

There had been dark nights with him stolen away in summers outside the city or in a hidden room at a club; five, ten, fifteen minutos of her life that were unaccounted for. He would touch her, make her tremble, and gasp for breath. That is when she not only shined; she burned. There were glimmers of he and she that existed nowhere else, except perhaps the safety of sleep or the quiet breaths of long minutos alone, away from Queens and Dark Princes and the games that were their lives.

One dia they would clash.

One dia they would burn,

together.

And it would all fall away.

Leaving nothing but him and her.

Nothing but pure light, pure dark, and the pure power of creation they wielded.

It was late afternoon; classes had ended several hours ago, but he climbed the staircase, turning, and turning again, before reaching the auditorium, slipping into the shadows.

She was fury unleashed today, sitting center stage, the hot light shining down on her. There was no música stand, just Blair seated there, her head knelt down, a curtain of chocolate curls hiding her. Sight was not needed here, her fingers flying up and down and across the long, dark, magnificent cello between her legs. She was playing Bach, a sign that she was volatile as the bow dug into the thick strings, breaking a number of horsehair's and causing the air to hum and surge. Not just Bach, but his Partita for Solo Violin, Number Three. Today had not been a good dia for the Queen, and she was taking it out on her cello- taking it out on him. Though he was hidden, she knew he was there, and the notes rained down on him, reverberating in his ears and through his veins.

The high note, a harmonic, hit with perfect precision, it rang through the space; she dropped straight into the Gigue from Suite Number One. He heard her harshly berate herself as she dug the bow in harder, striking hard accents, other phrases sliding across the bow and climbing into the air. Ending on a delicious low note, she let this one fully ring out until the note died. He could hear her breathing hard and he felt the memory of her hot breath panting in his ear begin to burn in his blood.

Long beautiful broken chords slurred, sliding together. Yes. She knew he was there in the shadows. They were the Prelude; low and high, fast and slow, slipping, spinning, climbing, falling, only to rise again, arpeggios, up, crescendoing up, climbing higher still, whirling in the apex to settle in a low, perfect complete chord, two strings struck together, resonating together in harmony.

The bow slipped from her fingers with a clatter. She sat there unmoving, a flame, causing fogo to scream in his veins. He left without disturbing her; his footfall walking down the hallway was long and measured, a languorous misdirection of the pounding of his heart. He had watched her torment for days now and this was the last of it. He would push her, break her, release the scream she refused to let out.

After her coração slowed, she put her cello away, smoothed her hair and skirt, and gathered her bag to return home. The school was desolate; the streets were relatively empty- school children inside, parents not yet rushing home. Headphones nestled in her ears, she listened to the Bach she had just played. Walking up 85th Street, she still felt the música surging through her.

She did not see him.

In the shadows.

Waiting.

From the gated rear service access to her building, Chuck reached out, grabbing her arm and pulling her to him. Blair was breathless, even mais so when his lips pressed hungrily to hers. They were stumbling towards the service door, his fingers licking flames across her skin everywhere he touched. She fumbled to find her access card, his body hard against hers, asking how much she wanted this. The green light flashed, he threw the door open and they stumbled to the elevator, his hands in her hair as they resumed beijar furiously.

The prelude sang to them as the elevator climbed higher, her head swam, and the headphones in her ears forcing her to hear the depths of her wanton moans as his tongue teased her, as her fingers met the hard body hiding under his yellow dress shirt.

Tumbling upwards.

The arpeggios began to climb.

Her room.

Blazer and camisa hit the ground.

He relished tearing the headband off her head with a dark smirk.

It all fell away. Bag. Headphones. Uniform. Lingerie.

He dragged her to the bed, shoving her down hard on her stain coverlet.

She saw him, in the light. She had never seen the darkness burn before. She had never seen him before. Taunt sinew of muscle, the dusting of hair across his chest, his eyes... how had she never seen those eyes? They consumed her as she stared into them.

His voice was deep and unyielding.

"This ends here."

He was not touching her yet. His body standing over her was what pinned her on the bed. He watched as she exhaled a shuddering breath, her body trembling at his words, her skin prickling into little bumps, her mauve nipples tightening until they could grow no harder.

He was mesmerized por her eyes. She was mesmerized por his.

"Chuck." It was a whisper, a moan from deep within.

At this he finally yielded.

At this he finally was undone.

He bore down on her. Her skin met his and his need to have every part of her broke free. Mouth to mouth, skin to skin, her hands clinging to him, the raging fogo barely contained within him burned within her too. With one forceful, delicious thrust, she was his, he was hers, his fogo was her fogo and hers was his, her scream of pain, his of pleasure. Quickly it turned to pushing... pulling... a sob of protest, a cry of gratification, it began there, unsteady, needy, inconsistent, until the arpeggios started building.

Up.

Higher.

The light was blinding.

Pleasure screamed in her ears.

Through her body.

Breathing his name.

It tore from her throat.

She opened her eyes to him when she had no breath, no voice left. Light glimmered, refracted, then turned dark, glowing up at him. She had changed and shifted before him, no. Because of him. She was his now. He grinned at this, gleeful in his possession. It multiplied her beauty, her splendor, her light cutting through him, shattering the deceptions, the shadows, illuminating that as much as she was now his, he was now hers. The lightness made his head swim, bliss mingling with his passion shot through his body, the fogo burning low. He heard her cries in his ears, her nails biting into his skin, her hips bucking against him. Harder, harder, until it pulled deep down, surging, and the light broke free inside of him, pouring back into her.

Stillness.

Completion.

Two hearts beating, resonating in harmony.

A tremor.

He shifted.

She resisted, mewling, no.

He grinned wickedly. He flexed inside her, still perfectly hard, watching her sigh with happiness. He leaned his head down, his hands sliding under her to grab her ass, forcing her hips flush against his.

His voice was raspy, stated yet unsatisfied, "Hold on."

They switched places, and now it was Blair who grinned wickedly. Somehow, pressing her hips down on him, he reached even deeper into her than before. Her eyes rolled back, her fingers digging into his chest as she smiled and moaned happily. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she slowly lifted herself upwards, feeling the aching and longing of every little bit he left devoid of their connection. She reached a hand down, running a finger up along his shaft, feeling, and watching with fascination as he left her.

He moaned at this as she pulled further and further away from him. He was barely at all inside her now, and her fingertip caressed the ridge of his head as he lay nestled there, inside of her, but not quite. His moan became a growl, his back arching, and his hands flying to embrulho, envoltório around her hips forcing her back down on him. He cried in relief, she gasped at the joy of being filled so completely por him once more.

"Enough." He commanded her, forcing her hips to jerk against his in a consistent forceful rhythm. Blair moaned, leaning down to kiss him deeply, her mind swimming in the fogo and the light. She pulled her mouth from his when it began to consume her.

He grinned at the haze of pleasure he saw in her half opened eyes while she rode him. He was growing closer, but he would make sure she came again. One hand came to rest on her neck, just under her jaw.

Blair's coração began to race even faster at this. She leaned into him, her hips bucking harder. She panted at the pressure of his hand around her neck, her mind growing fuzzy with white heat. It only took one last word to push her down the spiral of ecstasy once more.

His hips pushed back, up, against hers, and he groaned.

"Come!"

She gasped.

The hand on her hip dug in hard enough, deep enough to bruise.

They cried together, the world shaking, as cores blurring, sound becoming a deafening silence.

She fell progressivo, para a frente into his arms in a state beyond exhaustion.

He managed to pull her black satin blanket over them, softly beijar her mouth before they both blinked out of existence for awhile.

Blair awoke in an empty bed.

Cold.

Dark.

She shuddered. Her thighs were coated with him. But he was gone. Disgusted, she fled the cama they had defiled and went to chuveiro and repair her appearance. As much as she could at least- when she found bruises, scratches, bites, all across her body. When she went to dress, there was an outfit laid out for her. Lingerie, a dark red dress- just to look at it heated her blood. Unquestioning, she dressed, just in time to catch his reflection in the mirror.

He proffered peonies, bright white and deepest pink. He had changed out of his uniform, his suit complimenting the dress perfectly. She accepted the flowers, a small smile as she inhaled their fragrance.

Chuck tilted her face up, so he might gaze into her eyes. They had not changed back. He smirked, his voice low, "There is no mais denying us." before beijar her passionately. There bodies were hungry for mais as her arms clung to him, her mouth begging for him.

But he pulled away, "No."

Blair's pout was mixed with the anger one would expect at denying a queen.

"Dinner first," he replied and held his arm out to her.