Author's notes: I now deliver the promised epilogue. I had three different thoughts of what this epilogue would contain, but I decided to just create a mash-up of all three, since the theme of the epilogue is reunion, and all three parts show a union between Chair. This is one long chapter, and I hope the length preoccupies you people as well as remind you of Chair. =______________________________= I want my Chair happy ever after, and even with the writers' destruction and perversion of my ship, and as I am in the phase of bemoaning and lamenting them, I will work hard to preserve Chair by writing fics. I shall hold on to the memory of a bitter&sweet past. T~T My dream right now is to see Catheryne update her Chair fics, and it came true. ~_~
*I forgot to include in my explanation earlier: to add to the reminiscence effect, I resurrected 1812 (and because I didn't want the setting to be in the Empire). It's supposed to be a metaphor for his heart, besides the vault. "And although it was now vacant, Chuck never opened it for others." I don't know if anyone noticed, but if you isolate this sentence from the paragraph, the 'it' may pertain to his heart and not just to his room. So his memories are locked in his heart, hence the scattered pictures in his room. That's why it was imperative that they meet once again in a room, more specifically, 1812, and not just anywhere, along with the Chair photos. And I also had a teeny change in ch01, just lowered the grade of the returned ring.*
I'm fucking pissed. I heard somewhere about Chuck sharing not just a kiss but hooking up with the "who's that slut?" Willa was pertaining to in 3.19. Heard THAT ATROCITY was the OMFG moment of s03 finale. And then I saw the UK promo for the finale. F--k. If it is true, Chair has been ruined beyond salvation. JS and SS are F--KING FAILURES and I seriously don't know how they got into the business, and I don't know how SS got an MA and a PHD with her apparent LACK OF TALENT. But you know, they're kind of inspirational. If they can make it even with their apparent inadequacy in talent then we can make it.
Btw, DISREGARD THE BULLSHI~T OF post 3.18/3.19/3.20 when reading this fic.
A Reunion Blessed by Butterflies
Love is like a butterfly,
it goes where it pleases
and it pleases wherever it goes.
Love is like a butterfly,
hold it too tight, it'll crush,
hold it too loose, it'll fly.
Chuck awakened, his consciousness resurfacing even behind closed lids. Blinking to clear his mind heavy from the alcohol's effect, his head turned to his right side, and found only the pictures occupying the space beside him.
Swallowing the threat of tears, he raised an arm to cover his eyes. He was alone.
She was probably in her honeymoon suite with her husband at this particular moment, while he was left only with grief and memories. She was probably waking up to the face of her husband who had spent the whole night making love to her. Blair probably had their travel itinerary, had made a list of places to visit and activities to partake in during their honeymoon. He, on the other hand, was waking up to the captured moments of their short-lived romance, and he would definitely just be continuing his lachrymal project as a sort of attempt to get through his loss.
The happenings of last night, her in his suite, must've been an inducement of the weeklong alcohol binge and his wishful fantasy of the past five years. Perhaps delirium and melancholia had come together to spin a phantasmagorical manifestation of his deepest longing.
Imprisoned in murmurings of regret and remorse, Chuck did not notice the very soft thud on the wood of his side table. But what pulled him out of the darkness of his closed eyes was the fingers that ran through his hair. A bit startled by the physical contact, he gasped as he lifted his right arm acting as a blindfold.
Blair leaned in front of him, curiously looking at him. She was dressed in his purple satin pajama top, its sleeves reaching up until her thumbs , its hem barely covering her thighs midway. The mattress dipped under her weight as she sat beside him and reached out for something at the side table. Blair held a glass of murky liquid close to his stunned face.
"For your hangover."
Wordlessly, he took the proffered glass of panacea for inebriation. He drank the concoction continuously and tipped the glass high until the last contents of the hangover fix was consumed and nestling in his stomach, soaking the alcohol in his system.
Blair stood up. "I called room service earlier and asked for food."
An inexplicable pain coursed through Chuck's chest as he watched her walk away to retrieve the cart. He had felt this way when she wordlessly left him when he sent her off after he had destroyed her reputation with that Gossip Girl blast, when she turned away from him to get in the car of that lord when Chuck couldn't say the sentence that would've made her stay, when the elevator doors closed on her face as she threw the peonies back at him, when she got up from her seat with watery eyes as he told her it was just a game, when she told him goodbye after learning his treachery, when she ended their short-lived relationship. It was irrational, but the sight of her back felt as if she were that much farther from him, just out of his reach. The scariest part was the possibility that she would never return. Gazing and longing from afar was less painful than having her near and watching her walk away. Was this the exact agony Blair felt when he left her at the rooftop in Brooklyn as she held back in saying the three words, eight letters he demanded, when he confronted her on why they couldn't say it after their missed chance in Brooklyn, when he left her at the sidewalk after her confession, when he scoffed at her for playing the wife, when he pushed her aside after the second time she told him she loved him? If it were the same torment, Chuck vowed never to put her through it again.
"You keep making sure I eat right, but you have an even unhealthier diet." Blair lightly scolded as she wheeled the food cart near the bed (Chuck barely noticed that the photos scattered on the floor were gone, picked up and put away by Blair earlier while he slept). She stopped in front of him, the food cart parallel to the bed, and she started browsing the assortment of food, her back turned to him.
"Don't think éclairs are sufficient substitutes for full meals."
Silently, he reached for her hand and tugged, causing her to angle her body towards him. Chuck pulled more insistently, until she took the few steps closer to him. Slowly and wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around her midsection and held her close, his cheek on her chest. His eyes were closed, savoring the feel of her heart and the warmth of her skin, and she in turn wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers submerging itself in the strands of his black hair.
"Chuck?" She called out as he had been immobile and silent for some time now.
"I just want to feel you near me. It's been so long…" He whispered against her. "I thought last night was no more than a drunken delusion."
Blair leaned her head down, burying her nose in his disheveled morning hair as her lips lay on top his head. She could understand his need to ascertain himself, and allowed him the moment of reassuring reprieve from his incredulity. She then closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of his warmth so close to her.
"I hope you don't mind, I used my favorite pajama top of yours."
He chuckled and slightly shook his head. "It looks better on you, anyway."
"And I left my wedding dress in your walk-in closet. That dress takes too much space to just be lying around the suite."
"I don't mind."
Chuck's eyes were still close as he felt for her heartbeat, but he opened them once Blair pulled away by gently pushing his shoulders. She smiled and held his head in both her hands before she leaned down to tenderly kiss him. "Good morning." She whispered upon his lips.
A corner of Chuck's mouth turned up. "I love you too."
Blair laughed, kissed him again but more soundly this time, before turning to the food cart and pulling it closer to the bed. Blair then returned to him with a croissant in hand, plopping down on his lap, plucking a piece of the croissant and offering it to his lips. He ate the proffered piece and reached for a glass of juice in the cart while Blair took a bite off the same croissant.
That was how they started their morning, with breakfast and giggles. Last night, they slept soundly in each other's arms instead of delving straight into sex, due to Blair's exhaustion and Chuck's inebriety. The ease and lightness of how they interacted that morning reminded Blair of the first time Chuck returned the three words, eight letters that had been long delayed in return. Of course, when they got into the limo, they pounced on each other right away, but when they reached 1812, they just dozed off together and afterwards had a late dinner-in-bed followed by a bath, where they played with the bubbles before they got hot and bothered. They didn't leave the suite for a week, and Blair could remember how carefree those days were; it was as if everything that had weighed her down had been discarded, and she was free from all those burdens, and the rest of the world could fall away but still she would be light enough to take flight on butterfly wings. Blair reckoned, that was what a happily ever after must feel like: definitely not an end, but rather a beautiful beginning stretching forever.
"Do you remember back in elementary when I used to call you Chuckie?"  Blair casually brought up the stray memory as she popped a grape in her mouth.
Chuck munched on a blueberry muffin. "Because it was the name of your favorite chocolate drink." He swallowed and kissed her nose. "I remember I retaliated by declaring éclairs as my favorite dessert."
She persistently called him Chuckie during elementary, but stopped the nickname during middle school when Eleanor forbade Blair to anything close to chocolate or its amount of calories and insisted on a strict diet for her daughter. But even then, he never destablished as his favorite the pastries rhyming with her name.
"Do you still like it?"
Blair grinned and reached out for a glass on the food cart. It was only then that Chuck noticed it was chocolate milk, and Blair hadn't indulged in it since Eleanor banned it. "Just because I stopped drinking it doesn't mean it's not my favorite anymore." She took a hearty sip and then put away her glass. Chuck was amused to see a wet brown smear on the sides of her upper lip, the slight outline due to the rim of the glass. Chuck quickly swooped in and licked the remaining smudge that left a tinge of the taste of choco milk on the tip of his tongue. Encouraged by Chuck's sensuous move, Blair suckled his lips, and he took the kiss deeper when he delved his tongue inside her mouth.
Blair repositioned herself, her legs straddling him as they never broke the connection of their mouths. She felt heat ignite from deep inside her and the palpitation in her chest felt like mad fluttering of butterflies attempting to escape. This intensity that burned her insides were lacking in the few romantic relationships she had been in, and the building simmer of passion made her gasp for air, but it was like taking deep gulps of fresh oxygen after being stranded in a mine. Chuck broke the kiss to suckle her neck, slowly pressing his tongue to feel the throbbing on her pulse point while he slowly unbuttoned the pajama top she wore. He slowly bared her shoulders, laying kisses upon it and across her collar bone, before discarding her top completely. But while he was taking his sweet time in devouring her, she seemed too impatient and ravenous. She quickly rid of his pajama top by ripping it before pushing him down on the bed and nipping the pale flesh of his neck. He turned them so he was on top and resumed their vigorous make-out while his arm swept at the side so the pictures would be moved out of the way, giving them more space.
By the time they finished, both were out of breath, panting in exertion as the aftermath of overwhelming desire pumped their blood and drove their impassioned frenzy. Chuck's nose was buried in the nook of her neck while Blair's hands lay at the curve of his lower back. They were still physically connected; Chuck didn't make a move to pull out and Blair wasn't complaining. It took a while for their breathing to slow in pace.
"Chuck?" Blair called out after a few minutes of tranquil silence.
"Hmm?" Chuck pulled away to gaze at her but made no attempt to dislodge from her.
Blair raised a hand and cradled his face, perfectly sculpted into her palm. "Let's stay together this time. No matter what."
He gently kissed her. "I don't want to lose you again. And I'll make sure I won't."
Chuck sat up, causing him to pull out and making her whimper, but he lifted her to him, an arm around her waist while she wrapped her left arm around his neck to steady herself as she straddled him. At the corner of his eye, he saw a butterfly punched out from photo paper, so he leaned sideways to pluck it from the sheets.
"I promise you." He then took Blair's free hand and placed the butterfly in her palm, then had her enclose her fingers over it by enfolding her smaller hand in his. He lay a kiss on her closed hand, sealing his oath.
Blair swallowed; it seemed as if her heart had leapt and lodged itself in her throat. Her eyes closed in surrender as she kissed him chastely, nuzzling his neck when she pulled away. "I don't believe in promises," Because they can be broken like hearts. "But I believe in you."
~An Irish Blessing~
May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun.
And find your shoulder to light on.
To bring you luck, happiness and riches.
Today, tomorrow and beyond.
The sunlight was barely lighting up the room they were currently staying in. Blair was awake and with her legs underneath her as she sat beside Chuck, just studying his somnolent features. His hirsute chest wasn't covered by the satin sheets, and her fingers traced his features like a soft breeze on his face. He did not move nor twitch to indicate a sense of disturbance, so she continued to softly trail her fingers through his neck and to his chest. Reaching the area of his heart, Blair flattened her palm on top of it to sense the muffled beating underneath muscle and bone.
He stirred from sleep at the feel of her hand atop his heart.
"Good morning, husband." Blair leaned down to kiss him chastely on the lips. She then repositioned herself to lay down next to him, cuddling at his side and resting her head on his outstretched arm.
"I love you too, Mrs. Bass," Chuck responded as he punctuated his greeting with a deeper kiss, his tongue past her lips and stroking the caverns of her mouth. She moaned into the kiss, welcoming his tongue in her mouth by brushing her own tongue against his.
This was their first morning as husband and wife. After three years of being together plus another year of engagement, they finally reached this new destination.
When Blair, boycotting her own wedding, went to Chuck in 1812, they decided to work harder to make things work. Of course, they still fought, they still quarreled from time to time. But even so, there was something different, something stronger that bound them together. Unlike their previous short-lived relationship, they were now more open with each other, more faithful. The main problems of communication and trust from before were now gone. The distance gave them the opening to contemplate and inspect what went wrong when they were together, as if the time apart had prepped them for the second time around, made them aware of the problems they had back then so they didn't have to encounter it with each other again and fail. The two of them shared more than the accounts of their day at work or the lovemaking during the night. They understood that love was beyond an emotion, it was a commitment , as they finally grasped the breadth and depth of their vow to one another: the worst thing you've ever done, the darkest thought you've ever had, I will stand by you through anything. They also discovered that they didn't have to change the core of their beings or every facet of their personality. They only needed acceptance of the flaws in their characters, and it was like seeing the beauty in a kaleidoscope, like the appreciation of a glass art made from various broken glass pieces of different colors fused together, more astonishing than clear, blemish-free glass. Even when they hurt each other occasionally but never intentionally, they understood that loving someone also carried the risk of being hurt. To promise to never hurt the other was futile, but they could only swear never to hurt the other deliberately, nor use the other as a pawn for one's own benefit. They weren't just partners in the relationship sense, they were partners in every aspect they could work together, whether in scheming a takedown or planning a social event. They never rid themselves of their manipulative nature nor their mischievous streak; and in likening their circumstances to Chess, they were not players of the game but pieces themselves, the King and the Queen, in which their positions determined the moves of the rest of the pieces. They were either black or white, but never one black while the other white. They were always working with each other, and never against each other, either on the same side or with none at all. Their intimacy had twined their very beings together, and they both found that they would rather be beside each other rather than supporting the other from behind or moving forward without a backwards glance to the other just a pace behind.
Chuck proposed to her on the dawn of his birthday. They had a tradition, that on the eve of each other's birthday, they would stay up together to welcome the daybreak of the birthday. As they lay in bed, the dim glow of dawn peaking through the windows as she presented his gift (a knitted scarf she made for him with their initials, CB and BW at the opposite ends), he told her she could give him a better gift, the best gift actually, without having to spend a dime.
"All it takes is one word," he told her. And Blair, still having no clue, prompted him to tell her. He turned to his side table and opened a drawer, retrieving something she couldn't see before he faced her again and placed a soft kiss on her lips, a hand on her nape pulling her close. He parted their kiss, but his lips lingered just a short breadth away from hers as their foreheads remained skin on skin.
"Just say yes." Blair's breath was stuck in her throat as she felt the sensation of cool metal sliding on her slender digit. They pulled apart, and Blair raised her left hand to see the piece of jewelry on her ring finger. She could barely see through the haze of her building tears, but she could discern the grand brilliance of the grade D diamonds (the centerpiece a round diamond with two smaller pear-shaped diamonds at both sides) even with its modest size, which made the ring seem perfect on her dainty digits, just like her favorite garnet ring passed down to her by her paternal grandmother.
He grinned cheekily at her (a sign of nervousness), but his tender eyes belied his joking take on the matter at the moment. "So, Waldorf. What do you say to being a Bass wife?"
Blair sprang on him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he fell back on the bed when she propelled her body towards him. Amidst the rain of kisses on his lips, she whispered 'yes' repeatedly until they couldn't count how many she had uttered.
After breaking the news in a joint brunch with Blair's and Chuck's families, the engaged couple went in search of a wedding coordinator. When asked for the theme, Chuck, gazing deeply into the brown eyes of his wife-to-be instead of the addressee, kissed the back of his fiancée's hand and answered 'butterflies'. When the wedding coordinator asked for the motif, he expected one or two colors to be named, but he was surprised when Blair gave the same reply, her eyes taking on a wistful, loving look to her fiancé, making the gay planner feel as if he were intruding on the couple whose intense, invisible nexus of the souls were quite apparent in the physical gap between their hearts.
Nonetheless, the cryptic answer made for the "most magical wedding of the century, blessed by Cupid himself" as an article described it.
The wedding served as a fashion event for Waldorf Designs. Blair coordinated with her mother in designing the suits of the groomsmen and the dresses of the bridesmaids and flower girls, the palette of each dress inspired by the patterns and colors on butterfly wings. The result was amazing; all the guests were awed more and more at the designs of the dresses of each one to walk down the aisle, which boosted Eleanor's reputation as designer. Blair's veil was specifically embroidered to depict a panorama of butterflies on flowers, and had been decided as a family heirloom for any daughter she would have.
Several traditional aspects of weddings were modified just to fit the theme. One of the two flower girls dropped flower petals which interspersed beautifully with butterfly punch outs the second flower girl spread along the aisle to create the trail towards the groom. Instead of the tradition of rice thrown at the newlyweds, paper butterflies were strewn in the air by the guests. And rather than white doves released as the church doors opened, a swarm of butterflies were freed to the sky.  And then, butterfly confetti fluttered around the newlyweds as they had their first dance as husband and wife. 
When they reached their honeymoon suite, Chuck surprised his wife (carried bridal style) when instead of the typical path of rose petals leading to the bed as well as covering the bedspread, sequin butterflies were substituted. And above the tinted sequin butterflies that also sprinkled the silken sheets, Chuck lay down his bride on a bed of butterflies, his lips already upon hers before they descended on top of the mattress, the couple making love all night in a flurry of butterflies.
It wasn't their first time; they had made sweet, slow love countless times before, and they still had the wild, hardcore sex. But that night had been different. It was like rediscovering themselves once again, and it felt reminiscent of that night in the back of Chuck's limo, a few days shy of her seventeenth birthday. It felt like they were now more intimately connected in every way possible, their existences entwined inevitably, that no matter what vicissitude they were to encounter, they would never part nor be apart. That was the strength of their devotion; they would not let go no matter how painful, because it was more painful letting go.
The newlyweds, just fresh from sleep, made out for a while in the bed, just enjoying the sensual contact of their lips and tongues before Chuck pulled away, collecting a handful of butterfly sequins left on the bedspread only to sprinkle the butterfly décor on her. Blair giggled as Chuck blew on the butterfly sequins he spread across her abdomen, causing ticklish sensations to dance upon her bare skin. They flew off pack by pack at the gusts of Chuck's breath, landing back on the bedcovers. However, a sole butterfly persistently stuck to Blair's skin, right above her navel, due to the sweat. When it was apparent that the butterfly could not be displaced by breath, Chuck moved his hand to pick it up and glided it north, through the cleavage, neck, chin and lips, his kisses and whispered testaments of love following suit, not far from behind as he prepared to once again make love to the love of his life.
~Butterfly in the Wind~
A child is........
A butterfly in the wind,
Some can fly higher than others;
but each one flies the best it can.
Why compare one against the other?
Each one is different!
Each one is special!
Each one is beautiful!
"I can't believe she's finally here with us," Blair muttered through her happy tears as she cradled their newborn baby girl. One of Chuck's hands was on the infant's head, softly stroking the downy cap of sparse hair while his free arm was around Blair's shoulders; the image made was that of Chuck embracing his family.
"She's so small and beautiful," Chuck breathlessly remarked as he couldn't help staring at the little baby, who was currently nestled against her mother's breast, content in her first meal of milk. About 40 minutes ago, it was total pandemonium and panic as Blair was screaming hell at Chuck while gripping his fingers to the point of breaking them, hence the reason he was groaning along with his wife as she pushed. But now, the new parents were basking at the peace and quiet, adoringly observing their minutes-old baby.
"She has your lips." Blair pointed out.
"Her nose is definitely yours." Chuck added.
Blair sighed happily. "She's so adorable," Blair smiled widely as she cooed. "You're just so beautiful, baby. I bet you're the most photogenic infant in the Upper East Side, better than those celebrity toddlers."
Chuck laughed in agreement. "With our genes, I'm not surprised."
The baby then pulled away from Blair's nipple, indicating that she was done and her appetite full. Chuck took over, slowly and gently taking his daughter into his arms as Blair fixed her top and laid down on the pillows, as she had been sitting up while she was nursing.
Chuck smirked as the baby took hold of his thumb, and he kissed the soft skin. "One down, four to go until we can call ourselves the Bass bunch." He joked.
When Blair's pregnancy was recently discovered, they talked about how many children they wanted to have. They both didn't want only one child, Blair was content with just two, but Chuck wanted more than two. When they couldn't decide on a specific number, Chuck produced a dice and stated that the number to appear on it would be the number of children they'd have. At first, Blair pointed out the absurdity of letting chance determine the number of children they should have, but she later on relented, eager to settle down on a definite figure so they could get to the other aspects of family planning. Chuck and Blair enclosed the dice with cupped hands, and they shook it while counting down from three. The dice rolled to five. Chuck was all the more ecstatic with the result, and Blair (perhaps due to the hormones) found that she didn't have any qualms in bearing five children, and began to imagine a townhouse with kids rushing down for breakfast on their first day of school. She found the mental image appealing, and she suddenly couldn't wait for that day when reality would embody her fantasy.
Blair groaned. "Let's wait for at least two years until the next one, okay?" She was certain she had felt intense physical pain to last her a few years (she didn't get an epidural because the size of the needle had scared her). Her mother scoffed at her for choosing natural childbirth as well as her decision to breastfeed, which caused Chuck to wage war on Eleanor when Blair cried at Eleanor's disapproval. Blair had read in one of the pregnancy books that going through a natural childbirth was the first and one of the most intimate steps in forging a bond with her child, and that lactating was the best way to lose baby weight and ensure a better health for the baby, making her intent on natural childbirth for all her children as well as breastfeeding.
Chuck lightly rocked his daughter, not taking his eyes off the infant even as he softly addressed his wife. "Why don't you rest? I can't imagine how tired you are going through all those hours of labor and giving birth."
Blair chuckled, followed with a satisfied sigh as she closed her eyes. Chuck carefully leaned over her and kissed her forehead, slightly tasting on his lips the sweat of her exertion in giving birth. "I'll just take her to see everyone."
"Don't be gone long, Bass. I want her back soon," Blair called out, drifting off to a well-needed nap as Chuck went out of the hospital room to show off their baby to their awaiting family.
For about two hours now, the visitors of the Waldorf-Bass family lounged in the waiting room, anticipating the announcement that would grant them permission to finally visit the expectant couple. They didn't dare enter the hospital room where Blair was confined. Nate had been the first there before anyone to record the grueling process, but he only received screams and threats and hell from his brunette best friends. On Chuck's instruction (the couple was irritated by the blonde's hovering and voiceover comments), he was to wait outside and prevent any visitors from entering the room.
When Chuck showed up instead of the expected nurse or doctor, everyone scrambled towards him to glimpse at the first addition to the Basses.
"Finally, the honeymoon baby," Nate commented as he was the first to approach Chuck, carefully filming the event as he zoomed in on the little tyke in her father's arms.
"Everyone," Chuck's voice proudly addressed his family and friends, "our firstborn. Celastrina Bellevalia  Bass. Bea as her sobriquet," He couldn't help the large smile on his face as he looked down at the rosy baby swathed in a cloth of pink.
"The name's quite sophisticated to the ear." Cyrus commented and everyone agreed with a few nods and delighted agreements as Harold, with eyes glazing from happiness, cooed 'baby bear' (his chosen endearment) at his granddaughter.
"Well, I absolutely love your choice of name." Eleanor remarked, and Dorota nodded vigorously as she fished out a handkerchief to dab at the corner of her eye, the family's longtime maid overcome with emotion in seeing her ward's first child.
"Well, she's certainly the Belle of the Basses," Harold remarked with a chuckle.
"Hello Bea," Serena softly greeted her niece/goddaughter. "I'm your Aunt Serena."
"And I'm your grandmother, but you don't have to address me as such until after I've had grey hair," Lily chuckled as she slowly drew closer to her adopted son. "Oh, why don't you come to grandma, sweetie?" Lily was holding out her arms in a gesture that proclaimed her intent to take the baby into her arms.
However, Eleanor quickly caught on to Lily's not quite discreet move, so Eleanor made her way immediately in front of her son-in-law. "Seeing that it's my daughter who was in labor for more than 24 hours to bring this baby into this world, I think I should take her."
Lily opened her mouth to protest, but Harold quickly moved to her other side. "You're quite right, Eleanor," Harold backed his ex-wife. "I think it's only right that Blair's side of the family have the honor of being first to hold the baby. But I think Blair bear would most likely prefer me to be first." Harold looked meaningfully to his ex-wife, subtly prodding the fact that he was the favored parent.
"To avoid any unnecessary scuffle, I should be the first to hold her because I'm her godmother and her mother's best friend." Serena moved closer to her stepbrother.
"Hey!" Nate protested. "I'm the godfather. And I'm the father's best friend. Don't I get to hold her first?"
"Silly Natie," Serena teased. "You're holding the camera and you're in charge of filming. How are you going to hold her?"
Nate frowned in confusion, unable to utter a retort to his blonde girlfriend.
It had all started during the baby shower. Chuck and Blair didn't know how the conversation led to it, but Harold had declared the rights to being the first to hold his granddaughter, after the parents of course. Eleanor wasn't one to back down from her ex-husband, and claimed she should be the one (to which Chuck rolled his eyes). Eventually, Lily joined in their competition, and the selected godparents also joined the fray. The dispute over who will be the first to hold the baby continued for the remaining months, and remained unresolved until now. To avoid any commotion, Blair (giving her first breastfeeding) and Chuck decided on a candidate among those in the waiting room at the moment.
"Actually, Blair and I have taken it upon ourselves to choose who will have the honor of holding our daughter first since none of you involved can seem to decide," Chuck grinned and then, gazing past them, "Eric, why don't you come closer so you can hold your niece?"
Everyone turned to the youngest van der Woodsen, who blinked owlishly in surprise. He wasn't even a rival in the run for first dibbs on the baby.
"Me? Really? Great!" Eric smiled widely and eagerly approached his step brother, who slowly transferred the baby into his arms. Softly greeting his niece, Eric's grin stretched across his face, his pearly whites fully displayed in glee as he slowly rocked the baby in his arms.
Eric turned slightly to face the rest, but as he moved, Chuck also moved, maintaining his position in front of Eric. Eric halted the slight bouncing of his arms and then looked up at Chuck, who was just about a foot away in front of him. Although little Bea was in Eric's arms, Chuck's hands held onto Eric's elbows firmly, and it seemed that although the father consented to transferring the baby into another's arms, he wasn't willing to allow distance.
Eric raised his eyebrows to his adopted sibling, signaling a query. Chuck just smirked at his younger stepbrother. "Don't question me, Eric."
Eric just shook his head as he chuckled. "Overprotective already."
After Eric's turn, little Bea was handed over to her maternal grandfather, then to Lily, followed by Eleanor, Serena, Dorota, Nate (he let Serena take over filming duty during his turn), Cyrus, and Roman. Chuck had made a system: the one who was holding the baby would choose who the next one would be. Chuck figured Blair would be furious that his side of the family all went first before hers, so he thought of alternating to be even. It took some time, and when Roman, the last one to hold the baby, handed back the infant to Chuck, the new father felt like it had been far too long since his little princess was in his arms.
"Can we see Miss Blair?" Dorota asked Chuck, who was more smitten now than when he first appeared to them earlier.
"Well," Chuck did not take his eyes off his slumbering daughter. "Blair was resting when I left her, but I think she'd like to have Bea back now. I've been gone for too long when I promised her I'd be back soon. I'll go on ahead and everyone can follow after."
"Okay, everyone," Cyrus merrily called out as Chuck turned, hurriedly but carefully walking to get back to his wife, "Take all the balloons and gifts and relocate them to Blair's room!"
Everyone turned to gather their belonging and gifts of congratulations and well wishes, all of them eager to share the tidings of the happy occasion with Chuck, Blair, and their new baby.
~Forever slips from my grasp whenever I reach for it
But if we hold hands and fill the gaps between our fingers, we can cradle eternity...~
 I got the butterfly quotes from:
 This is a real drink, btw, and I love it. XD I'm aware it was known as Chocolait before (and I think it's only distributed in the Philippines), but for the sake of this fic, I've decided that it has been known as Chuckie from the start. If you're curious as to what it looks like, here is a link to a pic of the drink:
 I actually got this from my sister when they attended a seminar for couples about to be married. The priest asked them what they think love is, and he said, "For most of you, love is a feeling. But that's where you're wrong. Love is not a feeling; it is a commitment." Not really verbatim, but close enough.
 It's possible. I remember watching a behind-the-scenes of a music video of Secondhand Serenade when he opened a box and butterflies flew out of it. Also, I attended a debut (here in the Philippines, it's more of a coming-of-age party for girls when they turn 18, very unlike what's in GG) party of a family friend, and instead of the traditional 18 candles, butterflies in a basket woven cage were given to us and we were to free the butterflies after our dedications/well wishes to the debutante.
 I actually saw this done before, but in a concert of Namie Amuro, Live Style 2006, while she sang 'Four Seasons' (beautiful, touching song). The effect was so beautiful; they really looked like they were fluttering! If you want to see the butterfly confetti, watch this clip:
They're basically the same. But the first link has better audio; the second link has a wider screen.
 I had actually searched for this name even before this fic was conceived. I wanted to write a fic with Chuck, Blair, and a baby (either a boy or girl). I wanted the initials for the first name to be CB, and pertain to a butterfly and a flower (for a girl) or just a butterfly (for a boy, which I haven't found the right one for). I had to do a lot of extensive search, but I found it!
Celastrina is a genus of butterfly in the family Lycaenidae. I think they're mostly composed of azures (common name of a type of butterfly).
Bellevalia is a genus of plants in the hyacinth family.
Hyacinth symbolizes playfulness and a sporty attitude and in its extreme rashness. Hyacinths also denote constancy. Blue hyacinth stands for constancy (or sincerity), purple for sorrow (or 'I'm Sorry; please forgive me'), red or pink for play, white for loveliness and yellow for jealousy.
I think it has a nice ring to it. -^________________________^- I hope you readers liked the name. To Guardian Izz, I know you think that the first Bass baby should be a boy given the Bass lineage, but I can't find a boy name that means butterfly. Well, I actually found two: Papillon and Mariposa. But they just don't sound smooth with Bass. =___________________=
A/n:So, I had to write a sappy, quote-ish line about forever at the end. I was inspired, even if it sounds too cheesy. X_x Anyways, I hope you readers liked this epilogue, even with the butterfly overload with a few humorous tidbits scattered near the end. =__________________= But I'm so glad I could incorporate all the butterfly quotes that I found were significant to the theme of this fic. ~^________________________^~
Damn, my first attempt at a more detailed smut. How was it? All I can say is, it was easier to write than I thought. I'd like to thank all the M Chair fics out there. XD XD XD
I got inspired to add the wedding bit because my eldest sister's getting married this May. I'm giving you Chair fans ideas on how to incorporate butterflies in your wedding. XD Chair theme for wedding, anyone? XD XD XD XD
And, err... I realize that Blair has walked away from Chuck more times than he has on her. And I mean the meaningful exits that mean "we're done", and not the "you may have won for now, but I'll be back". I didn't even add the cotillion. And I don't count Chuck's walking out on Blair when he demanded she say the 3w8L, because Blair refused and he did sort of "pursue" her afterwards.
*CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS WELCOME, SINCE I BASICALLY CRAMMED ABOUT THREE SEGMENTS IN THIS AND DIDN'T REALLY GET TO GO THROUGH THE WHOLE THING RELIGIOUSLY.
You can chase a butterfly all over the field and never catch it.
But if you sit quietly in the grass it will come and sit on your shoulder.