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Ducks and Ponds

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"Daddy!"

The little girl squealed in delight as she ran in the snow.

There had been a snowstorm the day before, leaving everything at the Upper East Side covered in a thick layer of white mass. The little girl grabbed some in her little hand and tried her best to form it into a ball. When her father was close enough she lobbed it as hard as she could towards him, the snowball falling apart but snow covering him nonetheless.

She covered her mouth with a gloved hand and giggled when he froze, his eyes going wide. When he took a tentative step towards her, she looked up at him and the smirk covering his face. He let out a low growl and she squealed again, turning to run away. He was quicker than her, though, and in a matter of moments he caught up to her.

She cried out when he lifted her with one arm around her waist. He hugged her to him, crowding her as she giggled.

"You've been a bad, bad girl!" he menaced.

"No," she said softly, giggling and looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

"You're now my prisoner!"

"NO!" she cried out, wriggling to get out of his grasp. "Daddy!"

"I don't listen to prisoners," he teased, hoisting her up so she was perched on his hip.

"Daddy, do you love me?" she asked quietly, and his gaze snapped to her.

"Of course I do, baby girl, why do you ask?" he replied, gazing at her and trying to gauge the sudden change in demeanor.

"Because, daddy, if you love something, you should set it free! Put me down, please?" she asked, batting her eyelashes. He rolled his eyes at her response, but couldn't help but smile.

"Who told you that?" he asked, and tickled her for good measure.

"Daddy!" She giggled loudly. "Aunt Serena was reading to me the other day and she said it."

"Well, Camille, don't listen to Aunt Serena when she talks about love!"

"Why not?" the girl inquired. She had given up trying to untangle herself from her father and had her arms around his neck, intrigued by the direction the conversation was going.

"Because I said so." The girl shrugged and smiled, pressing a fast kiss to his cheek. "Now, what did we come here to do?"

The girl wriggled to get down, and this time he let her down, watching in amusement as she beckoned over one of his—or rather, her—security guards. The security guard crouched down so she could whisper in his ear and when she was done, he stood back up to his full height and materialized a bag of bread from behind his back and handed it over to the girl before going back to where he stood before.

He chuckled when he saw the girl walk over to him with the bag of bread.

"What's that for, baby?"

"I wanted to come to the park with you so we could feed the ducks in the pond but the pond is hard and there are no ducks!" She flung her arms around he saw the bag of bread swinging around and gently coaxed it out of her hand.

"But it's winter," he stated.

"So?" she replied, looking at him like he was dense.

"Didn't mommy come with you last week and explain it to you?"

"No," she said, shaking her head innocently. He sighed and looked around, spotting a bench a little further away.

"C'mon, I'll tell you." She slipped her hand into his and followed him, sitting next to him on the bench. "You know how in winter it gets cold?"

"Duh," she said, rolling her eyes. "I knew that, daddy."

He gave her a look and she sat up straighter. "Well we just put on warmer clothes and coats," he continued, tugging playfully at her light pink coat.

She giggled at his actions, but frowned when his words sink in. "Don't ducks have coats?"

He shook his head. "No. And it gets too cold for the ducks so they go to warmer places. Plus, the pond freezes over, so they can't swim in there anyways."

"And when the pond freezes we can skate on it!" the girl piped up excitedly.

"Exactly."

"So... no feeding ducks during winter?" she asked, trying to comprehend the whole point.

"Nope."

"Well what do I do with the bread?" she asked, tapping the bag that was in his lap.

"You are Camille Bass. I'm sure you could give it back to Stanley and explain why you don't need it anymore," he suggested gently.

"Okay!" She hopped off the bench and grabbed the bag of bread. With two fingers she motioned him closer to her, so they were face to face. "Thank you for explaining, daddy! I love you!" she said and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before skipping over to the security guard.

"I'd say that went well," a voice said from behind him. He stood up quickly and turned to the sound of her voice. "Who would have thought. Chuck Bass teaching his daughter about ponds and ducks. So adorable!" she said playfully, a hand on her heart in a mock gesture and a smile threatening to take over her face.

Chuck, however, couldn't contain his smile and in a matter of seconds he was standing in front of her, his hands on her hips and their bodies close. "You're back."

"Me standing here proves that. Sometimes I worry about your mental health, Chuck."

He was too overwhelmed by her presence to even reply. She was about to say something again when he pulled her closer and kissed her deeply. When her hand moved to his neck, her cold fingers sent a jolt through him and he pulled back.

"Where are your gloves?" he asked her, noticing the lack of said article.

"In the limo. I didn't feel like wearing them."

"You should wear them, you might get cold."

"I'm fine, Chuck."

"But it's cold out, I don't want you to—."

He didn't get to finish because she cut him off. "If it makes you feel better, I'll have them brought over here so I can put them on," she said, leaning away from him.

"No, I'm sorry, it's okay. As long as you're happy."

"I am," she said lightly. "But you need to stop being so protective of me." He shrugged lightly, shaking his head. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Blair. No more jetting off without me, okay?" he teased.

"You know that was for business and I couldn't help..." she trailed off when he started laughing. "You were teasing me. Not funny!" she exclaimed which made him laugh harder.

"But in all seriousness, Blair, no more flying for you."

"But what about daddy and Ramon? They're in France and the holidays are coming up..."

"And I'm sure they'll understand that you are six months pregnant. We'll fly them over." She crinkled her nose, but didn't object. "I'm just looking out for you and our son." He pressed a kiss to her cheek while his right hand made its way down to rub her baby bump. "How has he been?"

"Terrible! He's not my son, he's solely yours," she said petulantly. "He likes playing soccer with my insides and makes me go to the bathroom every five minutes. He's terrible." He chuckled, but quickly realized she wasn't done ranting. "Camille was so mellow and easy. She didn't kick me awake in the middle of the night!"

"No, she made me get you caviar and ice cream in the middle of the night," he said to her softly.

She nodded. "That's true. But it's a truly marvelous combination. Speaking of Camille, where is my little angel?" she asked, looking around.

"Your little angel threw a snowball at me today."

"She's daddy's little princess. I'm sure she had reasonable cause for doing it."

As if sensing they were talking about her, the little girl turned around to look for her father and her eyes widened. She dropped the bread and ran over to the couple. "Mommy!"

Chuck lifted the girl onto his hip so she could hug Blair without making her crouch.

"I missed you, mommy," the girl mumbled.

"I missed you too, Camille." Blair pressed a kiss to the girl's temple. "How about we go home so you can tell me all about your week with daddy."

The girl nodded excitedly. When she was put down, she happily skipped over to the waiting limo. Chuck walked alongside Blair, their hands intertwined.

"Hey," he said, standing still and tugging her back. "I love you."

She smiled widely and kissed him. "I love you too. Now come on. Patience is a virtue neither of us possesses so the odds that Camille has it are slim to none..." she said, trailing off and pulling him with her.