Author's note: Loved last night's episode! In the words of one recapper, Dan and Blair at the end were "crazy sweet". I own nothing, Gossip Girl belongs to the wonderful writers and network.

"You do often seem cursed," she had said.

"I do, don't I," he agreed, using a precise tone of voice that lay on the edge between bitter and blithe, and yet knowing that she would understand the meaning. That she'd know he wasn't feeling sorry for himself (he's been trying to control that particular urge recently), just appreciating the absurdity. Appreciating the fact that a certain untouchable Upper East Side blonde had diverted him, inspired him, loved him, deceived him, torn him to pieces and then did it all over again, with the best of intentions. Acknowledging that he'd entered this world with unquenchable self-righteousness, his defense against the new moral landscape that so deeply conflicted with his ideals, only to do the worst damage to those values himself. And recognizing that at this very moment, he could set aside the guilt and the loss and the disappointment and just enjoy a moment with a friend.

Yet when the movie ended, and they said their uncomplicated goodnights, the gentle healing of companionship began to wear away in the face of a new agitation. He thought he could trace it to the second before he said the name "Blair" to Eric. The moment when he considered editing his words and making his meaning clear from the outset instead of following up his statement with an overcompensating explanation. But the moment came and went and he found himself unwilling to make the effort. Whatever part of him chose to make his mention of her ambiguous wanted some recognition, recognition it got from Eric's stunned expression before the onslaught of incredulity was squashed with a very rational denial.

He couldn't help it; with Valentine's Day being what it is and his recent interactions with Blair, the possibility of him having feelings for her crossed his mind. And it did so without being coupled to the wave of revulsion he'd felt in the past at the notion. Instead, he felt anxiety take hold in the bottom of his stomach as his mind began to wrestle with the obvious conflict. Blair Waldorf represented the exquisite ugliness of the UES, the natural enemy of the man he'd always thought of himself as but in reality was still desperately far from being. All the more reason to keep a distance, take this exile from Serena's golden nimbus to reground himself as he'd planned. To make no more excuses for them or for himself.

And yet when he took her hand tonight, it had been his most pure gesture in a while. It didn't matter that the hand was unceremoniously drawn back, and the effect was only felt later when she'd had hours to rebuild her defenses. He couldn't shake the sensation of triumph, and he wasn't even sure that he should. He'd acted on instinct. No calculation, no plot, no calamitous success or failure. He was flooded with a sly, undeserved joy. There was a touch of pride too. He felt more like himself than he had in so long.

Maybe that was part of the curse too.