Yes, I know it's not Christmas, but I watched Roman Holiday and it put me in the mood! Anyway, this is more N/S, C/B than actual NJBC, and it is a little heavy on the Chuck and Blair part (because let's face it, we're all still reeling a little from Inglorious Bassterds). Let the non-holiday hijinks commence!

Silver Bells & Cuckoo Children


Serena was born fashionably late, or so Lily claims, and to this day the banner of 'better late than never' seems to hover unseen and omnipresent over her head.

It's snowing on Christmas Eve, and a tiny baby bump that's only just beginning to become familiar is jutting from between Serena's hips as she hurries down the street, thick coat wrapped tightly around her and head bowed against the cold. Nate was always so easy to buy for, when he was just her friend and then her boyfriend; but now he's the father of her baby, she can't seem to decide what will suit him best. A new watch? A new HD TV for the den? Everyone else's present was so simple: jewellery for Lily, a new iPod for Eric, a dress for Blair and ties for Chuck –so why does the man she loves have to be so difficult?

A flash of colour catches her eye as she passes the second-to-last store window in the row, and she stops. The display is a patchwork of folded cashmere sweaters in every colour of the rainbow, but Serena can't help being drawn to the one closest to the window, the one that it seems that, if she wanted to, she could reach out and touch. It's soft, it's sumptuous and it's blue – baby blue.

She smiles.



"And as you can see, revenue is up almost a hundred fold on the properties you recently acquired –"

Chuck can't stand the his advisor's incessant droning. He's already been in this meeting for two and a half hours, it's Christmas Eve and he can't find anyone to get him a coffee. Trying to focus on what the wretched man is saying, Chuck loosens his paisley patterned tie (a Bass man never loses his flair for pageantry) and blinks several time, though the figures on the page before him blur and trip over each other, like drunken waiters in a bar full of fools, illegible black squiggles which make his eyes burn and his head throb. He needs – or better, a scotch.

When it's finally over and he returns to his office, his secretary offers him a smile and he wonders why. On entering, however, he understands. There is a crystal vase on the desk, and it is full of blowsy, just opening, violently pink peonies: the calling card of only one woman.

He smiles.



"Are you looking for anything in particular, Sir?"

Nate swallows. He feels possibly more exposed at this moment than he ever has before in his life – his mouth is dry, his pulse is thudding, and his palms are so slick and sweaty he doesn't want to put them on the glass case before him in case they mark it. The clerk raises an eyebrow enquiringly, and Nate clears his throat and collects himself (come on, it's not going to hurt , grow a pair, will you?).

"Yes," he says, looking the man straight in the eye. "My girlfriend's three months pregnant, and I want to propose to her on Christmas Day, but I don't just want a traditional ring – I want something special." He gestures outside. "She's always loved the snow, and I was wondering about a theme, snowflakes, maybe?"

The clerk smiles at the nervous young man, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his well-cut suit and his heart on his sleeve. "I think I have just the thing. Right this way, sir."



Blair doesn't bother knocking, just crashes through the door in a whirl of Dior and Chanel No. 5 and cheeks flushed pink from the cold. There is snow in her hair and on the collar of her coat, and she doesn't even take a breath before dropping her bags and launching herself at him, legs around his waist and hands raking through his hair as she smiles and laughs and kisses, all at the same time.

Four hours later they are lying in the middle of the floor surrounded by discarded clothes, breathing hard and staring up at the ceiling.

"I take it this means your divorce came through in time for the holidays."

Blair turns her head to kiss him, one perfectly polished finger tilting up his chin so his mouth can meet hers.

"Though I don't see why it should make any difference. We've spent the last five consecutive Christmases in bed together regardless of marital obligations."

She swats at him. "Of course it makes a difference! This year is the year you acknowledge that it's my shampoo in your bathroom, my dresses in your closet and my hairbrush on your nightstand, so you'd better hurry up and marry me before Valentine's Day."

He frowns. "Why before then?"

She huffs a sigh. "Because, dumbass, there's a Bass bun in my oven and I don't want to look fat in my wedding dress."

He kisses her this time, over and over, asking her to say it over and over again – 'Yes, I'm having your baby, you idiot, I'm having your baby.' The clock tolls twelve and as Christmas Day arrives Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf have their arms wrapped around each other, kissing like they'll never stop, waiting with baited breath and beating hearts for the start of a new beginning and a new life.

I liked the idea of having Serena and Blair both pregnant at around the same time so that their kids could grow up together, and also because the unconditional love between the parents of a child - both for that child and for each other - never fails to astound me. I couldn't put Chuck and Blair together officially because I still want to bitch slap him (a little bit), but they had to come right in the end because I trust that they always will.

Reviews = love.