Disclaimer: Do not own GG or anything associated with it.
Summary: Dan and Blair make up after their "fight" in 5x01.
Who gave permission to drive me this wild?
It was one of their movie nights, like old times, except it was not nearly like old times, since he was now undeniably in love with her and she was undeniably engaged to marry another man. After many desperate messages left on her voicemail and much pandering she had forgiven him for withholding information from her about Louis, and almost as a gesture of good will she turned up one evening with Breakfast at Tiffany's in her hand and demanded he watch it with her. He, as always, obliged her and for a little while he almost fooled himself into thinking they were back where they used to be last spring. Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts and back into the latest argument they seemed to be having.
"How could you not like The Lion King? "
"Did your parents not hug you enough as a child? " Even as the words came out of her mouth she knew that this was more likely her problem then it was his but she forged ahead with her rant.
"Not only is The Lion King the most nostalgic piece of cinema for anyone who grew up in 90's, which you did, but it is also one of the most intelligent Disney movies to be made. Ever. I mean, they just don't make them like that anymore. But if you cannot appreciate it for its nostalgia or intelligence you should at least appreciate it for its story telling. I mean, it has to be the most wildly popular adaptation of Hamlet known to man. "
She said all of this in one breath and when she was done her heart shaped lips were pursed and she was slightly out of breath waiting for him to say something. And for once, he had nothing. He really did hate that movie, Jenny had made him watch it one too many times for it to even make sense anymore. He had stopped thinking the movie even had a meaning, he hadn't even thought that it might have anything to do with something as deep as Hamlet. He was, of course, not going to give Blair the satisfaction by admitting that openly. His natural instinct to disagree with her, which gave him an almost disgusting amount of pleasure, kicked in immediately; and even though he had not watched the movie since he and Jenny were kids and could not remember a thing about it except there was a monkey with a blue butt involved, he immediately spouted out, "The Lion King has nothing to do with Hamlet."
She looked indignant now, "what movie were you watching?" She took a deep breath to prepare for the rampage she was about to go on and he was almost sorry he said it, almost.
"Simba was clearly the parallel of Hamlet. They were both naïve reckless princes with no sense of responsibility that suffered the premature death of their fathers. But instead of standing up and avenging their fathers' deaths and taking their rightful places on the throne, they avoided their problems. They both went on in their wayward ways until their respective fathers appear in front of them as apparitions which finally gets them to face their true destiny after which they confront their double crossing uncles Scar and Claudius.
Oh, she might be right. This is the only thought that is able to make it to Dan's conscious mind. He stares at her a moment too long after she finished her rant, taken in, almost mesmerized that someone could delve that deeply into a Disney movie. He forgot to respond to her, and she indignantly screeched, "how can a writer be so incredibly dense?" Then proceeded to walk away from him, leaving him stunned. She was now in his kitchen putting her used dishes in the sink like the neat freak that she was and his eyes were still on her. They stayed on her in an almost unashamed way until she returned to the couch where they were both seated. Finally he turned away his gaze and waited patiently, as usual, he would follow where she led.
At length she finally spoke, "what has gotten into you?"
Slightly taken aback, Dan asked, "Excuse me?" When she had shown up at his doorstep with a movie he had felt relieved but could not ignore the nagging voice in his head that told him she had not let him off the hook just yet and it looked like she hadn't.
"You heard me, you seem completely different."
"I don't seem different to myself at all," Dan replied coyly, in an effort to diffuse the argument he felt coming on from her. As expected, she did not find this amusing. She glared at him harshly from under dark lashes and if he did not find that look on her face so endearing he might have been slightly frightened. As it was, he was not, frightened, that is.
"You don't say anything, you just sit there and stare. You were quiet all night, you barely fought me on The Lion King thing, and when you do say something it's either shocking or just hurtful."
It was his turn to be shocked. She had been vulnerable around him before. But it was usually because of W, or Chuck, or school, or Chuck, or her mother, or Chuck, mostly Chuck. She had never been vulnerable in front of him because of him, and that was when he realized he had nerve said it. He had left countless messages on her phone begging her to talk to him, to yell at him if that's what she needed, to please forgive him. But he had never actually said the words he should have. He had never said those three words, eight letters. So he said them now.
"I am sorry," he waited a beat to get his thoughts together then continued.
"I never meant to hurt you, or split you and Louis up. I was going to tell you what Louis was doing for you, I was. But you asked for my help and I forgot. I didn't think about it, I just wanted to do what you wanted to do." He was not looking at her, he could not look at her, but he heard her soft intake of breath. Then with a little smile he added, "I forgot that between the two of us, I am the one who's supposed to stop the insanity."
He looked up at her then and expected to see her scowling, trying to hide her smile. She was sitting closer than he anticipated. Her legs were folded underneath her with her skirt neatly tucked and there was a tiny triangle of flesh at the V shape of her collar which fixated his attention. It was a few moments before he realized that she had her head down now. He held his breath and prayed that she didn't slap him for what he did next. He placed his hand over hers which was resting on her knee. This got her attention and she finally looked up at him. He was looking at her with such…such…she didn't know what it was. But she wasn't blind enough to miss that he was imploring her to say something, anything. She took a deep breath and said something she never even dreamed she would be saying to Dan Humphrey.
"Dan, I'm sorry." Predictably, his brows furrowed together in a look of confusion and before he could ask, she answered his question.
"I'm sorry I didn't call you this summer." His eyes immediately softened, this look she new exceedingly well. That warm soft look in his eyes was now something she was accustomed to, and dare she say it, she was also fond of it. She did not think any man ever looked at her that way. Nate always looked at her like she was a little girl. Chuck had two facial expressions reserved for her: insatiable lust laced with love, and inhibited hate. Louis looked at her like she was perfect…
But Dan was neither here nor there, he knew she wasn't perfect. Much to her disappointment Dan Humphrey has had a copious amount of evidence to the contrary. Yet he looked at her with such warmth, but also with such depth. In some moments she felt almost naked under his gaze, like he could see every crevice of her being that she had been hiding from the world. While the other men in her life saw their version of Blair Waldorf, scattered bits and pieces of her true self, Dan saw it all, and kept on looking.
"Are you mad at me?" She knew he wouldn't be, he'd never been mad at her. "You can be if you want," she added.
"No, no, I'm not mad. My ego may be a little bruised but I'm not mad," punctuating his statement with a squeeze of her hand. She almost blushed, almost. But it didn't actually happen because Blair Waldorf does not blush. She felt overheated; the hormones must be getting to her. That was the moment she realized that she had been slowly rubbing her thumb across Dan's hand and while his dark unreadable gaze was fixated on her face, she was enthralled with their hands. Her gaze finally landed on her shining champagne colored engagement ring.
"I should get going," she said abruptly standing up, breaking him out of his trance. He did not look surprised; he knew this part really well. As per usual, he did not push her in any certain direction.
"Okay." His voice sounded just as deep and just strong as it did when agreed to run away to the Hampton's with her. He watched a little too intently as she slipped on her heels and then walked her to the door and closed it behind her after an awkward "goodnight," during which he pretended he hadn't spent the majority of the night staring at her.
His brain was still humming from her apology. He should have asked for it in writing. That was probably never going to happen again. He had spent every day since she left thinking about her, fantasizing about every possible situation in which she would leave an actual prince and come running to Brooklyn to the pauper. He never actually believed that one of his wildest fantasies would come to fruition (however, fleeting it may have been). Although a large part of him had spent the entire summer pining over his friend, another part of him, the same part of him that had him tell Blair the lie-by-omission, was glad that she hadn't kept in touch. It was petty and it was childish but he did not want to hear about how happy she was living with a prince in a palace where she was a princess. He did not want her to tell him how wonderful Louis was to her when he could do nothing else but think of ways that he could be wonderful to her. He did not want to hear her teasing voice on the other end of the phone without being able to look her in the eye so he could tell what she was actually saying. He did not want to sit there endlessly trying to come up with things to say that might earn him a tinkling laugh from across the ocean which might momentarily sooth the ache in his heart.
He had the inspiration for his next short story. A first fight and a first make up. He already saw it written word for word in his mind. He knew he was not going to sleep tonight. He would be busy writing about a beautiful brunette with a sharp tongue and innocent doe eyes.