So, I don't know if you read my last story (Thanksgiving: Third Time Lucky?) but this takes place not long after that. It's also the reason for the random Blair/Dan scene at the end of Thanksgiving - I wanted to lay the basis for this story.

I love Chair too much to ever be a Dair fan, but I do think that their interaction is hilarious, and I would love to see Dan help her. Also, I love jealous Chuck, and I really think that he deserves a taste of his own medicine after Blair had to deal with Vuck in 2x07 (Chuck In Real Life).

Please read and review!

"Humphrey."

Dan glanced up, and did a double take to see Blair standing at his bedroom door.

"Uh, Blair." He raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"

She sighed, walking into the room uninvited.

"Actually, let's look at it this way. I'm helping you."

He stared at her. He already didn't like the sound of this.

She rolled her eyes. "The Tisch ball?"

"Oh. That." He vaguely remembered getting an invite; it was somewhere on his desk under all his papers. "What about it?"

He was getting more and more apprehensive. Not another Blair Waldorf scheme.

She sighed in frustration. He wasn't exactly making this easy for her. Now she would have to spell it out for him.

"We're supposed to bring a date. Tisch members only."

Blair had done well enough in getting the invite - that in itself was a feat. Tribute to the play last week...and her introduction of Lady Gaga.

But the date was proving an issue. Because so far, the only other person she knew invited was Humphrey. That should change after she got to the ball, of course, but it was getting there that was the problem.

Dan had a nasty feeling he knew where she was going with this. He remained silent, though.

Blair scowled. "Well, I figured since the only people you might have been able to go with," - Vanessa and Olivia - "Have skipped town..." Dan winced. He could do without the reminder. "You need a date."

She continued to gaze at him brightly.

He couldn't skirt around it any more. "You want to go with me."

Oh, Jesus. What was he getting himself into?

She pulled a face. "I believe you just begged me to be your date," she corrected smoothly. "And, after some consideration, I accept." She smiled graciously. "Lucky Humphrey. So, you'll pick me up at seven tomorrow night. We have to be early." Before she left, she gave his outfit a sweeping glance, and her nose wrinkled. "And no flannel, Brooklyn."

He rolled his eyes.

"I'll be wearing a blue dress. Not quite navy, but darker than indigo."

She got another blank look to that.

God, she missed Chuck. Why, oh why, couldn't they just bring non-Tisch members to the ball?

"For your tux?" she spelled it out for him. "Don't be late."

With that, she swept out of the room.

Dan just stared after her.

"She wants to me to wear a matching tux?" he said to himself, beyond comprehension.

"You're going to a ball with Humphrey?" Chuck repeated in incredulity. He couldn't help it; he snorted.

Blair could hear his amusement down the phone line.

"Ha ha," she said sourly. "Shut up, Bass."

He controlled his voice.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll have a great time. Have you got a flannel dress?"

"Hanging up!"

She could hear him, still chuckling to himself, as she deliberately ended the call.

Her boyfriend really was a pain in the ass sometimes. What happened to moral support? In fact, she was about to ring him back to tell him just that, when he rang her instead.

"I'm sorry." His voice was smooth now. But she knew him far too well.

"You're smarmy. There's a difference, remember?"

He grinned.

"Ok," he conceded, "I know it will be worth it when you conquer yet another section of NYU."

"Exactly."

"Can I treat you to dinner tonight, then, to make up for it?"

"Ede?" she asked hopefully.

"I'll book a table for eight."

She grinned. "Love you."

His voice softened. "I love you too."

But before the call finished, Blair asked suddenly, quietly, "Chuck?"

"Blair?"

"Promise me you'll never, ever wear flannel?"

Serena and Nate didn't attempt to hide their laughter.

"You agreed to go to a ball with Blair?" Nate repeated.

"It's not like I actually had a choice," Dan groaned.

"No, that's true." Serena was still grinning. She tried to reassure him. "Come on, Dan, you love Blair really." She nudged him playfully. "She's not that bad."

He just shook his head. "I don't even want to go to some Tisch ball."

At that, Nate frowned. "But won't it be good for your writing? I mean, they're all kids of directing moguls. And you got in because of the script you wrote, didn't you?"

"I guess," he sighed. Sipped his coffee miserably. "She was saying something about matching tuxes."

Serena's eyes widened. "Dan. You have to make sure your bowtie matches her dress."

"Yeah, you do." Nate nodded in agreement.

They were serious, Dan realised.

He looked at them in horror. "But why?"

Serena and Nate exchanged a glance.

"Because it's Blair!"