-Baby, It's Cold Outside-
author's jabber: this here is my first attempt at anything gossip girl— feedback and concrit would be splendid. much thanks to lisa for beta-ing. enjoy.
[danxblair; post-season finale]
::
He draws the line at fake mustaches.
Blair has been blathering for hours on end about serendipitous encounters and camouflage and plausible deniability, and Dorota has already snuck in twice (she gives Dan capriciously cold frowns both times, leaving him in a rather staggered stupor).
Dan is splayed on the mattress with The New Yorker spread between his fingers, half-heartedly engaged in the banter (that's all they ever seem to do, really, just banter) as Blair paces the length of her room, looking neurotic.
As proposed, they're to arrive at different times (Dan four minutes prior; Blair can't bear waiting) and he's supposed to cocoon himself in jackets ("—we'll pretend you're Nate,").
Dan advises her not to blow him off this time around, and then slips past the door before Blair can gather her rage.
::
"What's so special about the duck pond?"
He expects her to retort with a snarky jab regarding Brooklyn and the monstrosity that is his haircut, but—
"I love the duck pond," Blair replies plainly with stars in her eyes.
Crazy.
::
It's almost twelve when Dan feels a tug on his arm (he very nearly thought she'd neglected their tryst and stood him up yet again), and suddenly Blair is thrusting a loaf of Sunbeam potato bread into his rugged pair of woolen mittens.
She twists a morsel off her own loaf without a word and launches it over the railing. It ripples the surface as an assembly of ducks swarm around the sprinkle of food.
The vigilant creases around Blair's eyes dispel as the twisted leer mitigates into something almost kind, like a smile. "Give it a try, Humphrey."
::
Blair decides in the end that she doesn't mind walking beside him, as long as he buries his nose in a scarf and keeps his head down and doesn't critic Rosemary's Baby ("because Humphrey, I swear, I will slap you if you do").
They pass children clinging to balloons and swiping at runny noses, and Blair looks so happy, Dan just has to grin.
::
It's just a few days later when she shows up at his doorstep (she hadn't phoned or anything beforehand, but Dan sort of expects it). She has Nights of Cabiria in one hand and grips a narrow cardboard box filled with pistachio macaroons in the other.
Blair doesn't have to snap at him impatiently to get out of her way, because Dan has already shifted to the side and is running a hand through his dark, unruly hair and trying to get a whiff of his shirt without it seeming painfully obvious.
Later, Blair is coiled on his couch, swathed in an afghan and wryly sipping a mediocre cup of his coffee (Jenny used to do the shopping and Rufus would cook; Dan doesn't have the tolerance or necessary dexterity to do either, really, so he mixes the stuff around in hot water until it stops coming across as life-threatening).
Dan just about inhales the macaroons and before he knows it, the television screen has blinked out and Blair is fast asleep on his couch. He's so close to her that Dan can smell her shampoo, and the fruity aroma sort of overwhelms him (so when he falls asleep, he dreams of apples).
::
On Saturday, Dan plays soccer with Nate, just like old times.
They haven't seen much of each other lately and it's nice, Dan thinks, even if all Nate wants to talk about is Raina. Even if Dan gets hit smack in the nose when he becomes sidetracked after Blair calls him to ask if she left her socks at his "barbaric hovel."
He hangs up and tells Nate it was just Jenny checking in.
They scrimmage for a couple of hours until their knees are purple, before Nate winks and raises the issue of Dan's love life (he involuntarily thinks of Blair).
Crazy.
::
He can't stop bringing to mind Rufus' words on his way to her penthouse— "But friendship can be an excuse—a cover when there's something more you don't want to admit or you're too scared to explore." And then Eric's— "oh, you are ass backwards crushing on Blair Waldorf."It scares him.
But later when she kisses him ("One kiss and that's that." "For crying out loud, Humphrey!"), her fingernails digging into his coat and her face so close against his, he smells apples again and his stomach churns.
Soon, she pulls away and regards him charily, fingers still wound around the lapels of his jacket. Her lips are parted in disclosure but her eyes are indecipherable. Then Blair stalks away up the winding staircase and doesn't look back.
"Good Lord." Dan slides to the floor and tries to remember how to breathe.
::
Two weeks pass before Chuck Bass rolls up at his front door. His hair is slicked with oil, his suit a menacing charcoal, and his glower prominent. Glaring, he inquires of Dan in a clipped tone who Blair could have possibly kissed.
Dan has never been a high-quality actor. He tries to seem excessively nonchalant but thinks he might have done something wrong when Chuck leaves with reproachful eyes and a mistrustful curl to his lips.
Two weeks pass before he gets the call from the Modern Royalty Book committee and they're looking for a certain Daniel Humphrey. He grins because it must be Blair behind it, all Blair.
Carefully, Dan combs through his unkempt curls and straightens his tie, turning in circles before a mirror. He's awfully excited but he won't admit it to anyone, especially himself.
::
She's beautiful in her little red sweater, with her hair in kinky brown spirals and her makeup heavy around the eyes but soft around her lips (he stares at them while she talks).
It's a derailing moment when Blair shoots down their kiss with a wave of her polished hand, and Chuck looks to Dan for confirmation.
"Right," Dan manages. He acquiesces stiffly, and then both he and Blair walk away.
::
When Blair tells him that his princess is out there, somewhere, he knows he likes her. And weeks afterwards, it becomes sort of a habit, reminiscing about his days with Blair.
He'll be digging around for the remote under the couch cushions and pull out a pistachio macaroon, maybe. Or he might attempt grocery shopping and pass a woven basket of apples. But they're Blair and Dan, a slight brunette with impeccable taste and a gangly author from Brooklyn. And nothing else.
Crazy.
author's jabber: i hope it was all right. thanks for your time,
hannah.