Untitled

It’s an unusually warm October morning in Quantico. Blair spent two hours trying to put together the perfect outfit. She wanted to make a great impression, especially considering she hasn’t seen her father in almost 11 years. She settled on a black, splatter-pattern Christian Dior dress, black stockings and black and gold Badgley Mischka shoes. Click here to see Blair's outfit
As she walked through the glass doors of the FBI’s Behavior Analysis Unit, her gold Badgley Mischka heels click with each step, creating a soundtrack of her journey. She walks past a bullpen of desks, most of them filled with agents working on paperwork, reading files or typing on their computers, climbs a small flight of stairs and stops briefly in front of the door labeled Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. She knows everyone she passed in the bullpen is staring at her. She takes a deep breath and opens the door.
He’s sitting behind a desk, writing something with one hand and using the other to hold the phone he is speaking into. Behind him, there are shelves housing small trophies, unworn baseball hats and photos of his son, Jack, from his second marriage. No signs of Blair on those shelves. This hurts her. She knows it’s been years since they’ve spoken. Years of unanswered phone calls and countless letdowns left this relationship in worse condition than the relationship Blair has with her mother. Regardless, Blair still holds her father on a pedestal.
Aaron places the phone back on the receiver, while doing so he notices the young woman standing in his doorway. “My apologies, may I help you?” Blair is speechless. She didn’t prepare for such a generic response to her presence. He starts to speak, but before he gets a chance, Blair blurts out “Hi, Daddy.” Stunned, Aaron rises from his retail-quality leather chair, “Blair?!... What are you doing here?” The lack of excitement in his voice made Blair feel even more unwelcomed than before, “I came to see you, Daddy.” The look on Aaron’s face hasn’t changed, it isn’t shock, excitement or anger; just a blank face. “I gathered that, I meant, why? Why are you here?”
The unwelcomed feeling is just a memory now. Blair is heartbroken. She searches for the words, “…I… I left New York. I want to be someone worth knowing. Someone people will look up to…. for what I’ve accomplished, not for my wardrobe!” She searches her father’s face for any sign of emotion, she finds nothing. “Aren’t you happy to see me, Daddy?” Aaron’s shoulders relax, sorrow fills his eyes seeing his daughter in pain. “Of course I’m happy to see you, I’m…. just shocked. I’ve tried calling you, visiting you, writing you; and I’ve got nothing in return. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me after I missed your birthday party.”
Blair recalls that night. Aaron somehow manage to always make it back to NYC for her birthday. Sometimes, work got in the way, and he'd miss the party or would arrive late, but he always called her at midnight to be the first to wish her a happy birthday. But three years ago, Blair had her first “adult” birthday party consisting of formal wear and
Blair stood on the rooftop of her penthouse building, watching and waiting for any sign of her father. She checks her phone as Chuck approaches her, “What are you still doing up here, Blair?” She sighs, not wanting to open up to the Upper East Side’s notorious player, “I don’t know where my father is, he always calls me at midnight when it turns into my birthday.” Chuck grins, “Isn’t it time you give up on dear-ol-dad?” “My father loves me! And he will call, if not show up, before midnight!” He sighs, “Care to make a wager?... if he calls, I’ll leave you alone forever. You’ll remain Daddy’s little girl. If he doesn’t, you spend the night with me.” Blair is disgusted! “I will not,” she exclaims as she shoves him out of her personal space. She can’t believe he is using her pain to get lucky. “I thought you were sure.” This infuriates her. Not only because he is trying to take advantage of her sorrow, but because she knows that he knows she can’t ignore a good bet. “You’re gonna lose! He might not be around a lot, but he’s never missed my birthday!”
It’s now 12:08a, and Blair is hiding in one of the bedrooms, curled up on the bed. The layers of black tulle from the skirt of her dress almost drown her. She’s on the verge of tears as Chuck walks in. “I’m not in the mood, Chuck! This is pretty much the worst birthday ever,” Blair says as she sits up and sniffles. Chuck approaches, “Maybe it can be salvaged.” He pulls a box out from behind his back. “What is that? Our sex tape?” He opens it, revealing the diamond necklace she had placed on hold at the local jewelry store in hopes her father would buy it for her birthday. Chuck removes the necklace from the box, unclasped the lock. “No! I couldn’t,” Blair objects. She can’t accept a gift that expensive from a friend, especially the one she mistakenly lost her virginity to in the back of his limo. “Yes, you can.” He puts the necklace on her, straightening out it out, the both look at her reflection in the mirror. “Something this beautiful deserves to be seen on someone worthy of its beauty.” Chuck sees the pain in her eyes, “I really am sorry that your father didn’t show.” He reaches for the necklace to adjust it once more; Blair grabs his hand and he kisses her shoulder. Blair is smiling, but that smile fades quickly when she remembers she is standing in her father's office.