A/N: Because I am an idiot and I like to torture myself, I present to you 6x01: The Best Case Scenario. I'm sorry, okay?!
Five more minutes
They yell at each other.
That happens.
She slaps him.
That happens.
He reacts with disbelief.
That happens.
Kind of.
Then what happens is:
She storms away, through the long grass. Everyone's staring at him; it's reassuringly familiar. He rubs his jaw and counts to one hundred before following her.
He finds her sitting under the canopy of an enormous sycamore tree, high heels at her side. He quietly sinks down next to her.
"I'm sorry", she whispers.
Tilting his head. "It's okay. Although that was pretty hard." Curling his hand over hers. She doesn't pull away. "But I'm guessing it was just as painful for you as for me?" Answering the question by lifting her fingers to his lips, kissing them one by one.
"You did look genuinely surprised." A smile, finally.
"You trained me well."
"But you think it was convincing enough?" Her fear is a door that can't be closed, not yet. "They have to believe that you and I are -"
"Not madly in love?" His hand gliding over her cheek. "Yeah yeah, I remember."
And suddenly their mouths are moving together, in a swell of desperation. She uses all her willpower not to cry. To instead savor every stolen second. Then, just as suddenly, they break apart as both their phones sound the unmistakable chirp. They look at the blast and then at each other. It's another win and they should be celebrating. As usual, it feels empty.
He strokes her hair, longing to offer comfort. But his almost-smile is bittersweet.
She sighs against him. "Don't you think it's sad?"
"What do you mean?"
"That everyone's so ready to believe it. That I'd walk away from you without a word. That I'd go back to something so poisonous." Her anger raw, the color of a fresh wound. "Everyone believes it. My own mother bought it. "
She's struggling to understand why this particular set-piece feels so gut-wrenching. So they'd had to resort to public, physical violence to deflect the suspicions of their blackmailer. It wasn't any worse than having to write the fake diaries together. Or any worse than planting them in the first place Serena would look. Any worse than having to let her 'seduce' Dan. Any worse than sending him a ridiculous barrage of fake e-mails. Any worse than having to grovel to Chuck. Any worse than needing so badly for their behavior to look authentic, that Dan had to take Georgina to Rome.
But this one, it makes her feel sicker than usual. There's a photo out there, and everyone's seen it by now, and everyone's believing the lie they've built. It reminds her of another photo, so long ago now... another lie they'd staged... she'd dressed up so pretty for that one... and everyone had got the wrong idea.
Except it had been the right idea.
Tangled together under this glorious, brief shelter, he kisses her forehead. "It's worth it. One year, remember."
Nodding fervently. "Only seven months to go."
"Two hundred and forty-two days, to be precise."
Her eyes serious. "Then no more sneaking around."
"Mmm, like the sneaking around doesn't turn you on even a little?"
Affronted, "Not even the tiniest little bit." But her fingers are already in the waistband of his pants.
Eyes closed. "Blair - "
"Oh you want me to stop?"
"Not..." as she climbs onto his lap. "Not exactly. But someone's probably looking for you by now."
"You think they're going to look under a tree?" A flicker of her true, delicious fire.
"Hey! I'll have you know it took me a long time to scout out this spot. You should be grateful."
"Okay." Her hands on his face. "Thank you."
"Five more minutes?" Eyes searching hers.
She leans in. "Five more minutes."
So yeah. In a perfect world I don't want them to be caught up in stupid plots, sneaking around... because it sucks and it's so far from 'pure and simple'. But for some reason it makes me feel better to deflect every last horror the writers throw at us. I hope it does the same for some of you :)