Chapter 1: Au Revoir
She sits quietly at her dressing table, taking off her makeup and smoothing her hair. Normally she would have stayed longer, at least long enough to unravel Chuck's outburst and to comfort Serena as her world fell apart, but tonight she couldn't find the energy or the will. She knows she's off her game but isn't sure what she's feeling-forlorn, maybe. Yes, forlorn, she decides. A word that sounds so much like "fog horn" and somehow describes her mood precisely. A low, droning distress signal sent out into the night air, warning others not to get too close.
She thinks it's Serena when she hears the elevator, and goes out to greet her, to make amends. She prides herself on being a good friend but she wasn't one tonight. As she turns the corner, she sees Dan. It's Dan Humphrey, she thinks, and then wonders why he's always "Dan Humphrey". Why she can't allow herself to just call him Dan.
He talks of walking and thinking and she begins to sense where he's headed. Her heart beats faster as she realizes that he's finally going to push them to that turning point. He wouldn't have come here, especially after their conversation about parting ways, unless it was important. He tells her what they're both thinking and she's momentarily annoyed-After all, who is he to tell her what she's thinking?-until she realizes that he's right. The foghorn in her head blares louder, trying to warn them both to stay away, change course, but he moves toward her. Touches her shoulder, repositions her dress strap that has fallen. He's gathered the courage to come here but she can see in his eyes that he's faltering; her eyes encourage him to forge ahead. Not until he seems unsure does she become sure.
The kiss is urgent and speaks to months of foreplay. Eventually he sinks in and she follows, moving to a slower and more passionate pace. Momentarily she thinks about how the kiss is like their interactions-urgent then slow, urgent then slow. Then she stops thinking.
When they finally pull apart, he quips, "Well, I think we have enough data points now to decide what we are. I'm leaning toward 'frenemies with a touch of passion' but my report isn't complete."
He smiles at her and she smiles back. She's leaning toward "confused with a major dose of hormones" but leaves it at that.
He turns to go, looking back over his shoulder a final time before he walks into the elevator. She lifts her hand to wave but he's already in the elevator and doesn't see her. Waving? Really, Blair? she thinks, thankful that he missed it. Dan Humphrey is decidedly messing with her mojo.
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"I'm going to Dad's for the week," she tells her mother on the phone the next morning. In the span of a half hour, she's already packed her bags and left both Darota and Serena quick notes. She'll get on the earliest flight, even if she has to go via Iceland. She needs to leave.
As the car takes her to the airport, she toys with the idea of calling Dan, or at least texting him. Ultimately she decides against both, rationalizing that 7am is too early for either. In truth, she wouldn't know what to say. "Thanks for the kiss. It was awesome. Awesome enough that now I'm totally mixed up. So, gotta go! Au revoir!" No, she needs a clean break. She needs time to think, clear of Dan Humphrey and, even more so, clear of the UES.
Until now, it's been about Chuck. Easy question, easy answer. A strong woman needs a strong man, she believes, and Chuck is that man. He's indulgent but not excessively so. He loves her but doesn't allow her to become complacent. She constantly has to work to maintain their relationship but anything worth having is worth working for, she's always told herself. He's a hard man to love, so it's an odd source of personal pride that she's gone against the status quo and has loved him anyway. Loved a man who few others would.
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Her days in France are quiet, just as she'd hoped. The weather at the vineyard is beautiful and Cat is her constant companion. Her dad and Roman don't ask a lot of questions, just happy to have her in their fold for a few days. One day her mom and Cyrus come from Paris and they have a family dinner at the huge farmhouse table that she loves. It's wooden and worn and different from any table she's ever known because it inspires…comfort. She watches as her mother playfully slaps Roman on the shoulder after a particularly well-placed joke and her dad and Cyrus talk quietly in the corner, Cyrus advising him on loopholes in trademark laws. Gradually everyone reconvenes and the couples naturally migrate toward each other, drawn by a gravitational pull back into their natural orbits. There's a comfort in both partnerships, she realizes, an ease that was never there when her parents were married. Even in their best times, there was never ease. Passion, fighting, making up, certainly, but never ease.
The next afternoon, after her mom and Cyrus leave and her dad and Roman take a drive into town for groceries, she looks through the bookshelf and settles on Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls. The afternoon is humid but not uncomfortable and she sits on the swinging chair, lifting the skirt of her sundress to allow her legs to enjoy the sunshine. Soon she is so engrossed in the book that she doesn't hear the tell-tale crunching on the gravel road. It's nearly at the circular drive before she looks up and sees the black car with darkened windows. For a brief moment, she thinks, It must be Dan-he's come, but quickly dismisses the thought, knowing that Dan would choose a 1970's Citroen rental over this austere town car. She doesn't even consider that it may be Chuck until a familiar pinstriped pant leg emerges from the back door. The driver emerges as well and pulls an overnight bag from the trunk and leaves it on the top step before getting back into the car and driving away.
To say she's surprised is an understatement. She could never imagine Chuck in this world and she still can't, even though he's now only feet away. He smiles mischievously and produces a large bouquet of purple tulips from behind his back.
"Chuck, what are you…?" She accepts the flowers as he kisses her lightly on the cheek.
"I've missed you, Blair," he says as they sit down on the veranda bench, "and I though you might like to know that." He smiles again and turns slightly to kiss her other cheek. "Equal love for both cheeks," he whispers into her ear. "We are in France, after all."