Dan: "Baby, I love you. I'm sorry, you know how I get when I'm being passive-aggressive and controlling. Won't you take me back so that I can micromanage your existence again? I have missed that so much, baby."
Blair: "No, it's completely my fault as usual. I hate myself."
Dan: "Truth is, I think I've been using you to avoid facing some problems of my own. I promised to hold your hand, but maybe I've been forcing it."
Blair, verbatim: "I turned to you, Dan, because I knew you were the only one who'd protect me from my own worst instincts."
Let's ... hear that again, shall we?
Blair: "I turned to you, Dan, because I knew you were the only one who'd protect me from my own worst instincts."
Dan, not even going near the Serena bullshit of that: "Look, when Georgina showed up with my fake Russian baby, I fell instantly in love with him. No matter which of your adulterous fornications produced the child now growing in your womb, either of your boyfriends will do the same. Or if you show up on my doorstep like every other episode this season so far, I will also love that little boy or girl. What I'm saying is that I want your baby inside me."
Blair: "Okay, but since my entire life is really just an excuse to avoid your own, what happens when I open this envelope? How will you decide whether to let Noah Shapiro take the problem off your hands, or grasp desperately at the fame and glory out of nowhere that this ludicrous publishing deal represents?"
Dan: "The fact that you're even asking that proves you don't know me at all."
Blair opens the envelope, backed against a tree, and she shivers. Sad, a little scared, mostly like the world just got heavier. Oh, girl. Either way it was going to suck. You were right.
Blair comes to the Empire, where Chuck is sitting in some very moody light and is not at all interested in talking to her. In fact, he accuses her of being a plant by Humphrey to get him to feel something, which shows that he's learning how a Humphrey operates. Finally, she just sucks it up and speaks: "I'm pregnant. It's Louis'." His face falls without moving and she steps forward; he raises one hand off the bar, like a rattler, so she stops moving.
"I didn't want you to find out from someone else, and wonder if the baby was yours..."
"That's very considerate," Chuck hisses, which: There's your answer. She throws her shoulders back and goes for breezy. "Yes, well. If I know anything about Chuck Bass, it's that fatherhood isn't part of the lifestyle." He won't say it, so she goes on looking. He's not really quite ready to let her go, so he just sends off a weak little twist, like a kitten batting at your hand: "...You must have been very relieved when you realized you weren't carrying my offspring. That certainly would have derailed your fairy tale."