Summary: "I'm not your Monica frigging Lewinsky!" Dan/Blair.

Disclaimer: It's disclaimed.

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THE BEGINNING

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THERE WAS SOMETHING SO GLAMOROUS about Washington. Glamour wasn't an alien concept to a woman like Blair Waldorf, who'd been born with a silver, diamond-encrusted spoon in her mouth. It was, however, a pleasant and welcome change from the preppie environment of Yale University. Currently, Spring Break was in full swing and Blair, along with a gaggle of close friends, had skipped the usual Ivy League haunt of Palm Springs for a more educational vacation.

Their hotel room was big enough to fit a small army. Isabel Coates and Kati Farkas had already collapsed on the king-sized bed. The four girls, Blair, Isabel, Kati and Serena van der Woodsen, had purchased two rooms, each with two beds. Their rooms were connected via an unlocked door and it was probable that the girls would be moving from room to room all night. Serena and Blair were rooming together, simply because they shared a room back at Yale. Kati and Isabel lived in the same dorms, but in separate rooms. Blair had known Kati and Isabel since they were in Dior diapers. Serena was a new addition to their clique who they met at Yale.

"Yum." Serena popped the free mint chocolate into her mouth. "I could get used to this," she added, her mouth oozing green mint and lush chocolate.

Blair rolled her doe eyes at her friend. Currently, the foursome were hanging out in Kat and Iz's room. They did everything together. They were this close. Even if Blair get occasionally - okay, more than occasionally - annoyed with Serena's antics, they were friends til the end.

Kati and Isabel occupied themselves by fiddling with the plasma screen TV. It was mounted on the wall, alongside several impeccable reproductions of contemporary art. The two girls were busy watching a rerun of yesterday's medical drama, which they missed because they were on a plane. Even though Blair wad rather fond of private jets, Serena excitedly explained that they couldn't have "a real tourist adventure," if they didn't fly commercial. Both girls compromised and went for first class.

Noticing the sudden silence in a room full of second-year college girls, Serena crossed her legs, Indian-style and sat up ruler-straight. She cleared her throat, covering her faux-cough with a Jergens moisturized hand.

"What?" Blair barked, shooting eye-daggers at her friend.

"Sheesh." Serena's blond eyebrows bowed. "Did someone forget her happy pill this morning?" she sang in a teasing voice.

Again, Blair's wide brown eyes rolled around in their sockets. "No." She crossed her slim, pale arms over her chest. "Is it so abnormal for someone not to be constantly as chipper as a chipmunk?"

Kati and Isabel snickered in the background. No one was quite sure whether it was because of Blair's quip or the lame pick-up line used on the TV show the girls were engrossed in.

Like a fish out of water, Serena's Nars in Afghan Red-coated lips popped open and closed multiple times. Finally, she settled on pursing them into her signature pout and turning away from her best friend. In a huff, she stormed over to the bed closest to the TV and plopped down beside an enthralled Kat and Iz. They welcomed her with mumbles of "Hi," and "Shush."

Blair turned her back on the trio of girls, sprawled out on the huge bed. The preternaturally chilled van der Woodsen had already wrapped herself in the spare cream-coloured cashmere throw blanket. Kati and Iz were quietly whining, over the hum of the MRI scan displayed on screen, that they were cold, too. Serena, stubborn as she was, chose to ignore their pathetic pleas and pulled the soft blanket closer to her skin.

The brunette beauty used one clear-polished finger to toy with the thick strap of her vintage Hermes over-the-shoulder satchel. She'd packed a light Jodi Picoult paperback to read on the plane, one of her slimmer Pre-Med textbooks, a half-empty package of Stride gum in Sweetberry, and, of course, more than enough makeup. Her purse was a thirteen-year-old girl's dream come true.

"Um," Blair announced. Slowly, two faces turned towards her. Kati remained facing the television, where a particularly sexy male doctor was removing his scrub top. "Kat?"

Kati, reluctantly, drew herself away from her favourite "actor" of all time. She locked eyes with Blair, who, in turn, nodded politely.

"I'm going to go check out the rest of the hotel." Her nose scrunched up in anticipation. "See if it's deserving of all those four-star reviews on Expedia. Anyone want to come with?"

All three girls shook their heads and returned to the program. Blair swooped her side-bangs away from her Audrey Hepburnesque face with a sigh. At one time, these girls would've killed to be in the presence of Blair Waldorf. Now, well... Just look at their reactions! It was all her father's fault. After he ran away to a chic French chateau, with a brain-dead male model named Romaaaaan, leaving his upscale fashion line to clueless Eleanor, no one wanted anything to do with the Waldorf family. Their name was scorned. A name to be laughed upon at brunch. Nothing more.

"Fine," she replied, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. Blair hitched her Hermes purse further up her shoulder. She was dressed elegantly in a printed lipstick-red wrap dress underneath a chunky charcoal grey wraparound sweater. It was still fairly chilly in Washington, so she'd dressed warmly. Her signature headband - a silk red one this time - adorned her loose waves. She'd taken off her white sunglasses and afixed them to the dangerously low neckline of her dress. "I'll be going then."

Taking special care to pluck her key card off the mahogany Chippendale table, the affronted brunette rushed out of the dreaded hotel room as fast as her slingbacks would carry her. Imagine! This was the vacation she'd been waiting months for! It was all ruined because of a little spat with Serena. Serena, who was only invited along because of happenstance that she shared Blair's dorm!

From a young age, manners, grace, and elegance had been drilled into Blair's head. For a moment, she shoved those teachings as far back in her mind as they could go and slammed the door. She called, "Oops!" just loud enough for Serena, Kati, and Isabel to here. Not like it was an accident or anything, but she had to keep up appearances.

Bitch-whores.

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"YOU HAVE A PRESS CONFERENCE scheduled for nine a.m. tomorrow morning," Penelope, Dan Humphrey's Old Hollywood-beautiful assistant, stated. Her dark eyes were still downcast, speed-reading through her boss' time table for the next day. It was almost seven-thirty in the evening and Dan was getting antsy to go home to his girlfriend.

"That's fine," he agreed, adding a curt nod. Penelope fluttered her mascara'd eyelashes at him, before bashfully looking away. Dan was puzzled by the way she'd been acting as of late. Yes, she was pretty - gorgeous even. He was dating someone, though. Steady, for two years. That was pretty serious. He knew his girlfriend, Vanessa, was eagerly awaiting the day he'd pop the question - but he was in no way going to rush himself just because most East Coast politicians were married with 2.5 kids.

Penelope Setton was her name. Twenty-three. Brunette, tanned skin, all-around gorgeous. Not only did she have the 'beauty,' but she had the 'brain,' too. Penelope, called Pen by her friends, finished high school at fifteen and college at nineteen. Her IQ hovered somewhere above 145.

Vanessa, of course, was who Dan's heart really belonged too. They'd grown up in Brooklyn. Both of them attended single-sex private schools that nearly drove them insane. Ness went to Constance-Billard School and Dan was a less-than-proud graduate of St. Jude's Academy. For as long as either Brooklynite could recall, they'd been best friends. Closer than close. Of course, Ness' feelings were always a little less platonic than Dan's were. One day, sometime after he graduated Evergreen and started going to Columbia as an undergraduate, he realized that he was an idiot. The hottest girl in downtown New York like-liked him and he'd been too much in love with a dream to do anything.

That dream girl? We'll get to that later.

"Okay." Penelope flipped to the next page on her clipboard. Her full eyebrows raised at whatever text she'd just skimmed. Curious, Dan cleared his throat gently. It served its purpose, bringing the skirt suit-clad assistant back to planet Earth. "Oh, yes, sorry Senator Humphrey."

He clucked his tongue. "No problem. Now what was it you were about to say?"

"Oh." She shoved a dark-coloured curl out of her line of sight. Her dark, haunting eyes bore deep into Dan's own. He shuddered. Girl was creepy. "Nothing much. Just...besides that press conference, your day is pretty much...free."

The professional pair was walking down the hallways, tiled in cool aqua and ivory marble, slowly. Dan picked up the pace. Vanessa really was expecting him home soon... The twenty-eight-year-old senator of New York was quite the heartthrob around Washington. Not only did he have a steady girlfriend who he refused to cheat on, but he was constantly coolly dismissing the many dime-a-dozen twentysomethings who threw themselves at him. He found it disgusting. He was a professional. He wasn't young like most of his ardent fan club members. What did he have going for him, anyways?

Penelope could name a few things...

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That's right. I'm back. The drama of yesteryear's teenagers is nothing compared to the sex and scandals goin' on in our nation's capital. If you're still stuck shopping with Mommy at Bendel's or perhaps studying Law at one of the Holy Trinity schools (Yale, Harvard, Princeton, anyone?), have no fear. Gossip Girl is here to spill the well-preserved, gourmet beans.

You know you love me.

xoxo,

Gossip Girl.