author's note: i should probably put it out there that i know this is not the most true to character versions of dan/blair i've ever written, however... i saw a couple at a concert not talking and got the idea and this is the result

Present Day

The ticket had been looming over her for awhile. It was a front row ticket to see her favorite singer in concert at potentially his last concert. He had announced, prior to the tour, that he was taking a break and so now Blair was in possession of maybe one of the last front row tickets to see him. However, she only had one ticket. The other ticket was in the possession of her ex boyfriend. It was originally a gift for the two of them, back near Valentine's Day where their future looked solid. The present was a different story.

Blair was alone in her apartment, dipping pita bread into hummus as a between snack from hours of phone conversations with potential subjects and the hours that she would spend at her computer trying to type up what she had heart. Being a journalist was always what she had wanted to do since taking her very first college journalism class (it was supposed to be an easy a and instead it carved out her career path), but it was true that she got very little sleep and very little personal time. Stories consumed her- maybe it was why she was still single. Her work was her personal life now.

She glanced wistfully at the ticket that was hanging on her refrigerator. The chances of Dan going to the concert was slim, she told herself. She, after all, had been the bigger fan. She had introduced Manny Cartwright to Dan. They had spent nights dancing around in her kitchen to his songs because she was in control of the music. He hadn't known who he was until Blair made him listen to his first cd on one of their first dates.

If he was a decent guy, which she was inclined to believe most of the time, he would stay home. The concert, she decided, was hers. This opportunity was hers. If she had to go by herself then so be it. She was Blair Cornelia Waldorf and she was going to go to the concert, the missing ticket be damned.

Blair quickly, before she could change her mind, put her food away and grabbed the ticket off the fridge. She grabbed her phone off of the counter and her keys and made her way out in to Manhattan.

"Excuse me," Blair said, trying to squeeze between the stage and legs as quickly as possible to get to her seat in the middle of the row. "Sorry," she said, looking down sympathetically at the person who's foot she had just stepped on. Once she made it through the obstacle of legs, she was pleased to see that her assessment earlier that Dan would not come had so far proven to be correct. Blair sat, placing her bag on what would be his seat and rifling through it to find her phone.

She heard a clearing of the throat coming from above her and she slowly brought her head up to see a man who was trying to get past her. "Sorry," she said, bring in her feet below her chair to let him pass. Getting comfortable in her chair, she scrolled through her phone to pass the time. Pictures of friends getting engaged (yuck), babies (gross), and the occasional status entry that read more like a diary (at least that entertained her) took up the majority of her Facebook newsfeed these days

Blair was taken out of her scrolling (refraining from liking posts so that no one would know that she was free enough to be on Facebook on a Friday night) by the lights dimming. She quickly shoved her phone in her bag and looked to the stage, her eyes wide to take it all in.

Two Years Ago

"Helen," Blair said, her voice hushed. "Who is that?" she asked, moving her head to try and get Helen's attention to focus on the editor-in-chief's office that was currently being moved in to. "Did they hire someone for Brian's job?"

Helen rolled her eyes. She was a short, stout woman from the South with a capital S who had been at the magazine longer than Blair was alive, as she liked to remind Blair of almost every day. "Do you read any of the emails you get?"

Blair shrugged, "Some of them. The important ones."

"Your new boss isn't important?"

"So, he is taking Brian's job?"

Helen huffed, "That is what I just said. Daniel Humphrey," she said, looking at her computer and reading from the email that Blair had "filed" into the trash. "Your age, from Brooklyn… previously worked for GQ. He was an editor there."

"My age and he has that job?" Blair's eyebrows shot up. "Who does he know?"

Helen closed her lap top, "Don't you have a story to be writing?"

Blair leaned onto the woman's desk, trying to look both at Helen and at the office. "Come on, Helen. The story is coming along. You'll be able to read it over soon. Tell me what you know."

"They want to shake things up," Helen said, opening her lap top up again. "Look, Bobby was able to get in his article to me on time."

Bobby, from the desk in front of Helen, turned back to smile smugly at Blair.

"That's because Bobby writes the horoscopes and advice columns," Blair said under her breath.

"He still gets them in on time," Helen said, looking at Blair disapprovingly. "Go finish your article so I can edit it before my retirement party."

"You are no help."

Despite Blair's protests, she was nowhere near finished with her article. She had begged for the story that she was interested in, a story about the dangers of being a woman in the city. However, she was given by the former Editor-In-Chief Brian a story that he knew she would have no interest in writing. It was his personal Fuck You to Blair after four years of a contentious working relationship that was ending in him leaving. Not that she was the cause, she would argue, but she certainly didn't do anything to help.

Blair stared at her screen, begging some words to come to her mind so that she could continue to write about the state of public schools in the city. What did she, Blair Waldorf even know about public schools?

She was thankfully interrupted by Helen tapping on her shoulder. "New boss wants us all to gather," Helen said plainly. "I can see you've gotten no further with that story."

"This story," Blair complained as she pushed her chair in, "as you know, was a punishment."

"Blair," Helen said exasperated, "Brian wasn't punishing you. He was challenging you."

"You know," Blair said, her voice lowering as the entire staff gathered in the common area, "you don't have to defend him. He's not here anymore."

"Excuse me," came a voice that she didn't recognize from somewhere in the middle of the group. "I don't know if you can all see me." The voice put their hand up, pointing at himself. "Here I am- oh, thank you, Martha." The voice turned into a head as Martha had kindly brought him a steady chair to stand on. The head, it turned out, was a very attractive one. "I'm Daniel Humphrey. Dan, if you will. I will be the new Editor-in-Chief here. I have little to no experience in the role so I'm hoping all of you will help me out in the next couple of weeks. We have an issue going out, I know, as Brian's last this week. We will then regather on Monday to assign new stories. In the meantime, I will be calling each of you into my office to meet one on one. Don't get nervous, please, then if Martha calls you."

Everyone looked around at each other. Blair locked her eyes with Bobby, who rolled his eyes.

"Okay," Dan said again. "That's it. Back to work."

Blair waited a second to walk back to let Bobby catch up with her. "What do you think?"

Bobby shrugged, "I have a friend who worked with him at GQ. Said he's a real go getter. You'll probably hate him."

"As I usually do," Blair said, smirking.

"When I get called in," Bobby said, slowing down as they got to Blair's desk, "I'll make sure to tell him how much you want to do the advice column." He winked as he walked away and Blair fell back into her chair to try and finish her article.

Present Day

"We have the honor of opening for Manny on his last tour for awhile," the opening band who Blair did not know started speaking. Blair instantly tuned out. She had no time for openers and now regretted getting their so early. She stood, squeezing past the row of legs again, and went to find a bar in the venue.

The closest she could find to a bar was just a vendor selling cheap bear and wine marked up at least 200%. Blair showed her ID, although she wasn't asked, and got a glass of wine for herself. She was tempted to order herself a second one preemptively but she didn't want to struggle with her bag and two glasses of wine, and she thought she might have outgrown double fisting alcohol.

One Year, Six Months Ago

"I was thinking," Blair raised her pen, "about a potential story."

Dan Humphrey raised his eyebrows. It had been a couple of months and a couple of issues since he took over and Blair had taken to being quiet in the staff meetings. It wasn't that she didn't have ideas, she was brimming with them, it was that she need to figure out what kind of boss he was. It turned out that Dan was open to the writer's ideas and stories and she had finally found one that would keep her entertained for awhile.

"Shoot, Blair," Dan said, his eyes bright.

"A profile piece on the socialites of the city. In a city that is appreciating new money more and more each day, what are those with old money doing? There's a girl, Serena Van Der Woodsen, who I think could be the focus. Nathanial Archibald is another."

Dan nodded, "That's great, Blair. Love that you have some names to with. Jessica," Dan said, turning to one of the junior writers on staff, "why don't you run with this." Blair's eyes narrowed, her jaw dropping slightly. He had never openly reassigned someone's story in front of everyone else before. "Okay, let's call that a meeting."

Blair stayed seated, watching the rest of the staff shuffle out of the room. Dan, who had a tendency to take up the conference room for an hour after their staff meetings, looked unsurprised to see her still sitting when everyone else had left. Dan stood, closed the door behind the rest of the staff, and sat back down. "I take it you are here about your story," Dan said, looking vaguely amused.

"So you admit it was my story," Blair said, drumming her fingers against the table.

"I never said it wasn't," Dan said, rubbing the side of his face and scratching the stubble on his cheek. "I just don't think you were the right person for this story."

"I pitched it."

Dan took a deep breath in, "You are too close to the story, Blair."

"What do you mean?"

"Serena and Nathanial… they are your friends, no?"

"I mean," Blair said, squirming. "I know them. Of them. We were friends-"

Dan stopped her by raising his hand, "Blair, enough. I think you will be a valuable resource to Jessica on this. After all, you are doing the opposite of them. You're the other half of old money, trying to pave your own way and all of that."

"I could have written an unbiased piece," Blair protested. "I could have found other people to write about. Also," she said, raising her eyebrows, "how do you know all of this?"

He smiled, "I'm a journalist, Blair. I do my research on people."

"So, what am I supposed to do?" Blair asked. "I have no story."

"Well, what do you really want to write about?"

Blair thought about it, "My friends are still off the table?" Dan made a face. "I had a story proposal for Brian before he left about the growing number of sexual assaults in the city and the myth of Law and Order SVU."

"The myth of-?" Dan looked confused.

"Law and Order SVU. Wrapping almost every rape case nicely with a bow. I want to talk about college sexual assaults and the differences between criminal justice and the school system justice that victims get."

Dan nodded, "Well, that sounds like you've thought about it a lot."

"I have," Blair said, sitting up straighter. "That's what I want to write about."

"So, do it. It's yours."

"I don't know if I could do it all by the next issue," Blair said, looking off and biting her lip.

"Take all the time you need," Dan said, pushing his chair away from the table and standing up. "Let me know if you need anything."

One Year, Four Months Ago

"This is good," Dan said, passing the pages back to Blair, who sat next to him with a proud smile on her face. "Really good. I think it needs a couple of tweaks but I think Helen can help with that."

Blair was sitting up straight, trying to manage her smile that refused to leave her face. "I'm glad you liked it. I've been working on it non-stop."

Dan pulled the pages back to him, flipping through her story once again. "This part," he said, tapping the paragraph he was talking about, "is especially great, Blair. You really were able to tap into the victim's mind space. This is honestly excellent work."

Blair was blushing, "It's nothing."

"It's something. I want it on the cover," Dan said. His finger remained on the page as he slowly lifted his head from the pages and looked at her, his smile as genuine as they came. "I don't think you should stop at this article. I think this would make for a bigger piece. Start with this and build."

Blair nodded, taking it all in. It was a huge step from the leadership under Brian, who she had felt stifled her. "Well, thank you," she said, pulling the pieces of paper to her and carefully lining them up in the right order. "Your support," she started, trying to keep her voice steady, "has meant a lot to me."

"Well," Dan smiled, "I think we should celebrate. This is an article for the cover, and you deserve a drink for it."

"I can't." The corners of Blair's mouth dipped down into a frown, "I'm meeting my boyfriend after work."

Dan's eyebrows shot up, be he quickly regained his composure. "Of course. Well, I hope he toasts to you."

It had been a good thirty minutes since the time that Blair and Chuck had designated to meet and she had heard nothing from him. She was quickly working herself through her second martini, sipping on the Gin Martini as she hit the home button on her phone, waiting for a message to come in.

"Is this seat taken?"

Blair looked up, seeing Dan standing over the chair next to her. Blair moved her bag from the chair to her lap and pushed it towards him with her foot. "It's all yours."

Dan sat, ordering a beer for himself. "Do you want anything?"

Blair looked down at her half empty glass and shrugged, "I think I'm okay for now." She looked at Dan, "I'm still waiting for my boyfriend," she said lamely.

"I didn't say anything," Dan took a swig from his beer. "No judgement here. I think we both can attest to our jobs making us late for important dates."

Blair took a small sip, "I usually at least text if thats the case."

"I don't want to speak for him," Dan said, staring ahead, "but I'm sure standing you up isn't his choice."

"Are you flirting with me, Daniel Humphrey?" Blair asked, her foot lightly kicking his leg.

"That would be inappropriate."

"I wouldn't mind," Blair said, finishing off her martini and signaling to the bartender for another. "Tell me about yourself. How did you become Senior Editor at such a young age?"

"By applying for jobs that I didn't qualify for," Dan answered, turning his head to Blair.

Blair rested her fingers on top of his hand, "You seem to be doing a good job for someone who is under qualified."

"That says a lot coming from you," Dan said. "I've heard you were difficult to please."

Blair's eyebrows raised as her phone lit up. "Hold that thought," she said, putting her finger up and reading the text from Chuck. "He's stuck in a meeting," she said plainly to Dan. "But back to me, tell me more about how I'm difficult to please? Did that come straight from Brian?"

"Brian… Helen… you have a reputation."

"Of being a bitch?" Blair challenged.

"Of having high standards."

"The nice way of saying that people think I'm a bitch."

"The nice way of saying that people think you are good at your job," Dan said, tapping his bottle against Blair's now full martini.

Blair took a long sip and looked around the bar, "Were you meeting anyone here?"

"Just came for a post work drink," Dan shrugged. "Nothing special. It was nice to run into you though," he said as he pulled out his wallet and put his card down. "Let me buy you your drinks."

"No," Blair said, pushing his card back to him. "I'll get these. After all, I both out drank you and out spent you."

"I'm used to both," Dan said as the bartender walked by and he pressed his hand into the bartender's palm. "Count these as our first celebration drinks on your article."

Blair raised her drink, her bottom lip pressed against the glass, "Well, I guess that would be okay."

"Good," Dan said, not batting an eyelash as the bill came back with his card. "It was a pleasure to see you, Blair." He stood, pushing his chair in, "I hope you have a good weekend."

One Year, Two Months Ago

"Blair," Dan said as he hovered over her desk, "can I see you for a minute in my office?"

Blair looked up from her computer, where she had been typing a follow up to her article. She looked around the empty room, before looking up at Dan, "Sure." She stood up slowly, pushing in her chair as she followed him to his office. She felt as though she was in trouble with the principal, and yet she couldn't think of anything she had done wrong. She took another glance at the empty office, it was past 7 on a Friday night, before closing the door behind them to his office.

"Please, sit." He motioned to the chair across from his. "Sorry, I realize that other people are probably not still here, but-" he threw his hands up as though that ended his sentence.

Blair smoothed out her skirt, sitting in the chair that he had pointed at. "You have some dedicated employees," she commented, taking in all the nicknacks on his desk including what looked to be a very old Cabbage Patch doll.

"Ah," Dan said, following her eyes. He turned the doll to her and Blair tried to keep herself from recoiling a bit at the worn toy. "Cedric. My favorite toy when I was younger. I've never been able to part with it. I'm a bit sentimental."

Blair nodded, her mouth turned down at the toy.

"Anyways," Dan said as he turned the doll back around. "I wanted to talk to you about the follow up. I don't think we're going to be able to run it." He was fidgeting with a pen as he told her the news but he kept his eyes on her. "I don't think we're the right medium for your story."

"But," Blair started, leaning forward in the chair, "it's a follow up. It's almost done. If this is about timing-"

Dan put up a hand, "It's not about timing. It's not about your work, either. I have a friend in publishing, he wants you to focus on it and maybe turn it into a book. If we continue you to publish it as articles, it could eventually be bound into a book. However, he… and I, think it would be more beneficial if you focus on this topic. It's an important one. Have you read the book Missoula?"

Blair nodded. She had read the book twice and had given it to every person that she knew as assigned reading.

"We think that what you've started could almost be a companion to that. Missoula focuses on rape culture in a college town. Your first article and the draft I've seen of the second focuses on rape culture in the Upper East Side, and as mid twenties. The wealth and power that goes into these interactions." Dan's hand was pressed against a rough copy of her second article as he passionately spoke about her work. "You can use this as a place to write still," he said, his hand tapping the paper. "I just think you should focus on a bigger picture, a book maybe."

Her mouth was agape, "A book?"

"I think my friend would be interested in buying publishing rights to whatever you end up writing. You wouldn't be on salary anymore," he said, his eyebrows raising, "but I don't think that will hit you too hard."

Blair's cheeks reddened. As much as she tried to be a "working girl" as her grandmother called her, she had not shied away from using her family's money to make her life a little more comfortable than a budding reporter's life might have been.

"I didn't mean that as a bad thing," Dan said. "I just think it will be easier for you to focus all on this story without the worry of not having enough money to live in this town."

Blair nodded, "Well, I think I have a lot to think about." She stood up, pushed her chair in and started to make her way across the room. She heard footsteps behind her and paused at the door, her hand on the knob, and turned to face Dan. "You've given me a lot to think about," she said, her voice lowering.

"I'm glad," he answered. His hands were in his pockets, and he leaned a bit on his toes. "I hope that you'll continue to let me to read whatever you have written down. I think you're very talented."

She bit her bottom lip, her eyes focusing on his mouth. "Thank you for everything," she said, a little bit breathless. "You have been very helpful and," she reached up, her finger brushing right below his bottom lip, "I think you might have had a crumb or something."

Dan rubbed his mouth quickly with his hand, "I did have a sandwich for dinner."

He stepped towards her, just slightly and Blair matched his step. They inched themselves closer to each other without words until he was almost looking straight down at her. Dan lightly touched her wrist, holding it as though it was made out of fragile glass. Blair looked down, opening her palm up to him and Dan responded by sliding his hand into hers.

Blair leaned on her toes, her free hand holding on to his shoulder and then moving up to his neck as she pulled him down into a kiss. Dan responded by stepping towards her more, her back hitting the door, and eagerly pressing his hands against her sides, his fingers digging into her skin as they kissed.

She reached for the doorknob, twisting the lock with ease. Dan's mouth traced her jawline to her collarbone. Blair's hands tugged at Dan's shirt, pulling the fabric from his pants and quickly starting to unbutton his shirt.

"We shouldn't do this," Dan said, his chin resting on her shoulder as he paused.

Blair's fingers continued to work on his buttons, "You're not my boss anymore."

"That's true," he said, his shoulders shrugging slightly as his hands moved to her thighs. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him as he moved her from one side of his office to the desk. Dan pushed some trinkets out of the way, as he sat her down. Blair, noticing that somehow Cedric had been spared the floor, put her hands on the desk and moved them out and inched Cedric off the desk.

Present Day

Blair was back in line a couple of minutes later, a nice warmth from the red wine having already made its way through her bloodstream. "A red wine, please," Blair said, holding out her credit card for the man behind the counter. With her wine in hand, she turned quickly and almost ran into a familiar face.

"Blair," Dan said, his breath catching. "I didn't… I didn't think you had shown. I went to the seats and they were empty."

"I was just getting some fresh air," she said as she lifted her glass up. "I didn't think you would be here."

"I can leave," he said, glancing over to where the exits were.

Blair shook her head, "No. No, it's fine. Stay. You bought the tickets. I can leave."

It was now Dan's turn to refuse and Blair waited for it. After a pause, Dan shook his head, "I couldn't let you do that. You're the one who told me about Manny."

Blair sucked on her bottom lip as they both stood in silence until someone behind Blair cleared their throat and Blair and Dan stepped to the side. "I think we could both watch the concert without an incident," Blair said finally. "It's not like we're forced to talk."

"Right?" Dan said, letting out a breath. "We just have to sit there and listen."

Blair moved her mouth to the side and nodded in response. "I'm sure we can manage." Dan looked relieved. "But," Blair said, putting the glass to her mouth and quickly drinking the wine that had been in there, "I'm going to need another drink. Do you want one?"

One Year Ago

The magazine's holiday party had always been somewhat of a bore. The people that Blair worked (had worked with?) with had always been the variety that remembered that they were at a party with their coworkers and not their friends. However, maybe it was because it was under new leadership, but as Blair walked in, a couple of hours late, it seemed as though the party was already livelier than she had ever seen it.

Blair was wearing a short, green dress that she had bought on a whim a couple of weeks ago. It was both perfect for the holiday party but something she felt she could get more than a one time use out of. She scanned the party, seeing Dan in the middle of a group of editors seemingly entertaining them with a story. Blair's eyes caught the tables with the drinks and she made her way over, finding Helen already there.

"Blair," Helen said, clinking her glass against the one that Blair took.

"Helen," Blair said, warmly smiling. "How are you?"

"Oh, fine," Helen said, her hands motioning to nothing in particular. "We miss you in the office."

Blair put her hand on Helen's shoulder, "That's sweet. I'm sure its the lie that you were all told to tell me." She had taken up Dan's invitation to work in the office for a week or so before realizing that the hustle and bustle of the magazine was not good for working on a story that she didn't want to be distracted from. "I miss you all, too."

"We didn't think you would show," Helen said, her voice lowering as though she was telling Blair a big secret. "I had a 100 dollars on you showing. I should go find the other's to collect."

"Why wouldn't I show?"

"You always seemed above it," Helen sighed.

"Blair," Dan said, his face staying neutral. Helen excused herself, squeezing Blair's arm as she walked away. "I'm glad to see that you came."

"Well, I was invited," Blair said plainly. "I would never miss a party."

Dan's mouth twitched as he stepped closer to her, reaching down to grab a glass of champagne. He stood up, holding the glass in front of him and touching his to hers. "I hear there might be an afterparty at my place," he said, raising his eyebrows.

Blair smirked, "As I said, I would never miss a party."

Dan's free hand squeezed her's, his fingers lingering on her hand. Blair made no motion to pull it away. "I should go mingle. We have some investors here. Not all of us have a book deal to fall back on now." He winked, taking a couple of steps away from her. "I'll find you," he said as he walked away.

Blair turned from him, feeling her cheeks blush. A second later, she felt an arm snake around her waist. "Dan," she said, laughing and pushing away the body before she could see who it was. "Oh, Bobby. Hi."

"Dan?" Bobby said, his eyebrows furrowing. "Do you already forget what we look like? It's only been a month. I'm hurt."

Blair rolled her eyes, "Please. I could never forget your face," she said, reaching out and patting his face with her palm. "What's my horoscope say?"

It was Bobby's turn to roll his eyes, "I'm off duty tonight." He stepped back, admiring her in her dress. "You clean up nicely."

"Wish I could say the same about you," Blair laughed.

"How about a dance?" Bobby said, putting out his hand out and doing a mock bow.

Blair looked around, catching Dan's eye from across the room. She put her hand in Bobby's, "I would love to."

Bobby led her to the dance floor where everyone that was 30 or younger seemed to be gathered, dancing to holiday music. "Now," he said, putting a hand on her waist and holding the other out to him. "Let's see if I remember the moves I had to learn in dance classes."

"You took dance lessons?"

"For my brother's wedding. He didn't want us to look like fools on his biggest day," he said, as he spun Blair around the floor. Blair gleefully laughed as she was spun into his arm. "Looks like I remember a couple of things," he said, dipping her.

"Just a few," Blair said, coming up slowly to avoid a head rush.

A couple of hours later Blair ran into Dan as she was headed to the bathroom. "I've been looking for you," he said, his voice low.

"Were you?" Blair said, batting her eyelashes. "It would be a lie if I said the same, but I'm glad you found me." She slid her fingers up and down his tie.

"Are you hungry? Can I tempt you with food to get you alone?" he asked, his head tilted down to hers.

"I could eat," she nodded.

"Let me grab my coat," Dan said, stepping away. "Meet me by the door?"

"Where are we going?" Blair asked, Dan's coat chivalrously draped over her shoulders.

Dan shrugged, "It's a surprise." He opened the door to a taxi, letting Blair slide in to the car first.

Blair was hit by a wall of warmth as she entered the car and suddenly felt very sleepy. Her eyes closed before she could do anything about it and she was awoken by a gentle shaking. Blair slowly opened her eyes, taking in the surroundings and that she was in the back of the cab. "Where are we?" she asked, making out Dan's blurry face.

"My place," Dan said, helping her out of the cab and assisting her into the building. "I was going to do this thing where I cook for you and you fall in love, but alas- I think it might be straight to bed for you."

"I'm hungry," Blair insisted. "Do the thing where you cook for me," she said, as she climbed the stairs.

At the top, Dan opened the door to his loft. Blair had been their once before, a month ago after the news of the book idea had happened. The incident ended much more chastely than it started where both of them, having been brought back from their lustful embrace in the office, shared a bottle of wine before Blair headed back home. The loft was unchanged though, and Blair thought there was a piece of clothing on the side of the couch that she recognized from her first time.

"Make yourself comfortable," Dan said, nodding to the couch as he unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up. "What do you want in an omelette?"

Blair made herself comfortable on a barstool, fearing that if she sunk into a couch she would fall asleep for the rest of the night. "Anything you want to put in it."

"Alright," Dan said, his eyebrows shooting up. "A challenge. What does Blair Waldorf want in an omelette?" He rubbed his hands together, grabbing a couple of pans and starting on chopping vegetables. "Did you have fun tonight?"

"Bobby can dance," she yawned in response. "Who knew he had rhythm?'

Dan looked up at her, "Yeah, I saw that."

"Jealous?" she teased.

"A bit," Dan admitted. "I wish it could be me."

"I don't work for you anymore," Blair said, stifling a yawn. "You could have twirled be around."

"I don't want anyone to think there was any favoritism with the book deal," he said, stopping his chopping of an onion to look up at her. "And there wasn't."

Blair waved him off, "Well now that you are back in town, you can bring me dancing." Dan had taken a couple of weeks off to go on a family trip down to see his grandparent's. They had stayed in contact through texts and the occasional late night phone call.

"Or," Dan said, washing his hands and fishing his phone out of his back pocket. "Why wait?" he said, pressing play on a song Blair couldn't see and walking over to her. The room was filled with music from a time before theirs. A soulful voice sang and made Blair ache in a way she didn't know music could.

Dan took her hand, escorting her to middle of the kitchen. Their heads were pressed against each other, as they swayed back and forth. She could hear Dan sing the words gently into her ears.

The song was short, and they parted. "What was that song?"

"Otis Redding," Dan said, looking stunned that she didn't know. "These Arms of Mine. It's one of my all time favorites. It's so soulful, especially considering how young he had to be when he sung it."

"I know who he is, I just never heard that."

Dan pressed play on it again, closing his eyes as he took in the music. "His voice is maybe my all time favorite," he said, opening his eyes slowly. Blair was staring at him intently as she listened to the song again.

"It's beautiful," Blair agreed, swaying on the stool.

"Now that I've shared my favorite song," Dan said, holding out his phone to her, "let me hear yours."

"That's personal," Blair said, putting the phone down.

"Come on," Dan said, going back to chopping vegetables. "One song."

"Fine," Blair said, lifting the phone again. She found YouTube and tapped in Manny Cartwright's name. "It's just a guy I came across in college. I'm not really a music person. Art, sure."

"Music is an art," Dan said, not looking up from the cutting board. "Just press play. I promise to only judge you if you put on a KidzBop song."

Blair reluctantly pressed play. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous. Manny was a big name these days, but she had never come across any songs that seemed to reach into her soul like his did. She felt so connected to the lyrics that it was as though he had written the music specifically for and about her. It felt as personal as having someone read her diary for her to suggest to someone to listen to him.

Dan nodded his head to the beat, "This. This is good. I like this. Who is it?"

Blair refused to answer until the song was over, swaying her head back and forth. Once it was over, she told Dan and he insisted she hook up her own phone to the speakers and play the entire CD. As the omelette sizzled behind them, Dan took her for another spin around his kitchen.

Present Day

The opening act had played one last song before leaving the stage. Blair chose to stare straight ahead to the stage as though they were still strumming along on their guitar. Dan tapped on his phone next to her. Despite actively ignoring each other, Blair could feel him next to her. Their legs, due to the limited space in the venue, were brushing against each other. Blair had placed her arm on the arm rest as soon as they sat down, playing for dominance, and Dan had respected her space during the remainder of the set. Now that he was on his phone, Blair could feel his elbow next to her on the armrest. She moved her arm lightly.

"Hey," Dan said, his hand slipping off his phone.

"Oops," Blair shrugged, feigning innocence.

Dan laughed under his breath, putting his elbow back on the arm rest and now giving her arm a little shove.

Blair glared at him but instead of fighting for it, moved her hands in her lap and continued to stare ahead.

Ten Months Ago

"Dan," Blair shrieked, her hands holding his as they were wrapped around her waist. Dan had lifted her , her legs kicking against the air. "Put me down."

Dan obliged, laughing into her ear as he grazed his teeth against her earlobe.

Blair playfully swatted his arm as she pulled away from him. "I need to finish dinner," she complained, reaching for a wooden spoon that was carefully balancing above a boiling pot. "Or you won't have anything to eat for Valentine's Day.

"A stupid holiday," Dan commented.

Blair scowled at him, "Can you pretend that you enjoy it just a little bit?"

"I can try. There is a reason," he said pointing his finger at her, "that I became an editor and not an actor though."

"Try this," Blair said, shoving the spoon in his mouth.

Dan's face contorted as she pulled the spoon away. "Do you cook often?"

"Occasionally," she lied, digging her toe into the ground. "That bad?"

"It's not bad," he trailed off.

"I followed the recipe exactly," she said, turning to the cookbook that she had bought the other day. She scanned the page, her finger going down the list of the ingredients. "Hmm," she said, turning back to Dan.

"What?" he asked, walking behind her. He placed his hand on her lower back, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Blair closed the cookbook, "It's nothing. We can just order out," she said, turning the stove off.

"Stop," he said, turning the stove back on and pushing her lightly aside. "It's not inedible. It just needs a little something." Dan started opening her cabinets, "Where are your spices?"

Blair pointed to a drawer, wincing as he opened the nearly empty drawer.

Dan looked at her, "Occasionally you cook?"

"I've cooked," she confirmed.

"In this kitchen?"

Blair bit her lip, "Well, I've just recently moved in. I've been trying the restaurants near by."

"Have you ever cooked in here?" Dan said, looking around at the kitchen.

"People have cooked in the kitchen," she avoided the question.

"You?"

Blair shrugged.

Dan laughed, "Where is the closest store?"

"There's a small little convenience store around the block," Blair pointed to the left.

"Paper?"

"For?"

"I'm going to write you a list of what you need," Dan said, as he took out the spices Blair did have and started adding them to the pot. "You grab that. And a bottle of wine?"

She looked confused, "Wine?"

"For drinking?"

"We don't need wine." It was now Blair's turn to laugh. "I have a wine room, Dan."

"Of course you do," Dan shook his head. "You rich girls and your unnecessary rooms."

"Hey!" she said.

Dan reached for her, pulling her into him. "It's just," he said, as his lips traced her neck, "it's just that you have a room full of wine but no cooking supplies. It's impractical."

"Wine is always practical," Blair argued, pressing her lips against his.

"You know," Dan said, placing his fork down on the plate. "For having to salvage that, it wasn't half bad."

Blair nodded in agreement, pushing the food around her plate.

"Are you not eating?" Dan said, his eyes focused on her plate.

"I'm full," she said, defensively. She stood, taking his plate and hers into the kitchen. "I had a large lunch," she lied. She had always had a strange relationship with food, but she wasn't about to get into that with a guy that she had been seeing for less than two months. As she filled the sink with warm, soapy water, she felt his hands on her hips.

"Leave them for now," Dan said, pulling her away from the sink.

Blair turned, about to protest before seeing that he had something in his hand. "What are those?"

"These?" Dan said, waving what looked to be tickets in the air. "Oh, just two tickets to see your favorite singer."

Blair reached to snatch them away from him but he pulled back his hand, "Let me see."

"It's not a Valentine's Day gift," Dan clarified. "It's just a because I could kind of thing."

"How did you get them?" Blair said, finally grabbing the tickets from Dan. "They've been sold out for months. Did you know he's like going into hiding after this show?"

"I know someone."

Blair pulled a face, "You know someone? I know plenty of people and no one could or would give me tickets to this."

"Guess I know better people," Dan said, as he plucked one of the tickets from her fingers. "One for each of us."

"Now I feel like a jerk," she said, playfully hitting his chest with the ticket. "I don't have anything for you."

"You cooked for me."

"You cooked for you," she corrected. Blair turned, grabbing her phone and started to play Manny's music. "Come on," she said, grabbing him by the shirt. "I can at least give you a dance."

Eight Months Ago

Blair walked into her former office as timid as she could be. Which, while not being very timid, still meant that she was at least limiting herself from busting into his office. Instead, as the door was closed, she lingered at Helen's desk.

"So," Blair said, lifting up one of Helen's picture frames, "how's it going?"

Helen sighed, looking away from her screen, "Blair, you know that I love you, almost like a daughter, but some of us have work to be doing. Why don't you check with Dan's secretary and see who he is meeting with?"

Blair pouted, "But I don't want to."

"I can do it," Helen said, pushing away from her desk.

"No," Blair said. "I'll go check." Blair grabbed the lunch that she had brought for Dan, in a paper bag and all, which had been sitting on Blair's old (and still empty) desk. She had arrived twenty minutes before, trying to time her surprise lunch visit with Dan's normal lunch time. Instead she had found herself meandering around the office, trying to kill time as Dan's door stayed shut.

As she approached the secretary, the door to Dan's office opened. A tall, leggy blonde emerged. Blair stepped behind a filing cabinet and watched as the blonde leaned in and gave Dan a kiss on the cheek before walking confidently through the desks and out of the office. Blair felt the heat in her cheeks rising as she watched the girl leave.

"Blair?"

Blair turned, almost squishing the lunch she brought for Dan against his chest. "I just stopped by," she said cooly, shoving the bag into his hand, "to bring you lunch. I actually just remembered that I have a meeting across town."

"Blair," Dan furrowed his brow, "are you okay?"

"Fine," she said, turning from him. "I'm fine."

Blair dipped a pretzel into hummus (what she was calling dinner) when her phone started to ring. A picture of Dan popped up on the screen and she pressed the button on the side to silence it. She was in no mood to talk to him. She knew she was being irrational but she couldn't shake a feeling of annoyance towards him. Whoever had been in the office was more than a friend, she had convinced herself based on the familiarity they had with each other.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she head a ring from the door buzzer. She glanced back at her phone where a text now came in saying "I'm outside" from Dan. She huffed to herself, putting the pretzel carefully in the hummus, as she buzzed him in. Giving him a minute to walk up her stairs, she opened the door slowly.

"You're wet," she noted, walking back to the kitchen to resume eating the snack.

"It's raining," he told her, shedding his coat and shoes before following her. "Are you okay?"

Blair thought about putting the pretzel that she was holding in her mouth and buying her time to think of an answer, but instead buried it again in the hummus. "I'm fine," she said, one shoulder raising in indifference.

"You," Dan said, taking a cautious step forward, "seemed to be in a hurry when you left today."

"I had somewhere to be."

"Lunch was delicious," he said, pressing his hands against the granite island's countertop. "I noticed there was an extra one."

"By the time you came out of your meeting, I ran out of time," she said, tracing a pattern in the hummus with the uneaten pretzel.

Dan furrowed his brow, "Meeting?"

"Closed door," she rattled off, "leggy blonde, kiss on the cheek. New writer to take my place? She's pretty."

"She's my sister," Dad said, blowing air out of his nose as he chuckled to himself.

Blair lowered her eyebrows and looked at him, "Your sister? Huh. You bear no family resemblance."

"Blame genetics," he said, deadpan. "She works in music. She got us those tickets. If I knew you were in the office, I would have introduced you." Blair raised her eyebrows and then popped the pretzel in her mouth as though that was the end of the conversation. "Were you mad because of that?"

"I wasn't mad," she said defensively. "I mean, now I am. Here I was thinking you were in some kind of important editorial meeting, wasting 20 minutes by talking to former coworkers, and really you were just hanging out with your sister. What a waste of my day."

Dan smiled, "Can I make it up to you?"

"Are you Father Time?" she asked, raising one eyebrow. "Can you give me back my lunch time?'

"Come here," Dan said, beckoning her with his index finger.

"I'm eating," she said, motioning to the pretzels and hummus laid out in front of her.

"That's your dinner?"

"I had a big lunch."

"After you forgot your sandwich?"

"I stopped on my way home," Blair said, lifting up another pretzel.

Dan walked over to the other side of the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out various ingredients. Since the first time he was over, the kitchen had gotten a lot more use. It was mostly by him, as he liked to cook for her late at night when her guard was down and she couldn't say no to an omelette or quesadilla, but he was also teaching her a couple of things. "Let me make you something."

Blair started to roll up the bag of pretzels and clamped it shut. She put the cover on the hummus and squeezed past him to the fridge. "I'm not hungry anymore."

"Mozzarella," he pulled out the cheese, "tomato… Let me remake the sandwich I stole from you.

"Dan," she complained, "I'm not hungry. I just ate."

"Pretzels and hummus do not make up a dinner," he scolded her as he grabbed a pan. "Fancy grilled cheese?"

"I'll have half."

"Lucky for you, I didn't eat a big dinner so we can split." He leaned over to kiss her forehead. "My sister's in town for a couple of more days, I was thinking maybe the three of us could get dinner?"

"I'm really busy the next couple of days," she lied, sitting down on a stool and resigning herself to watching Dan cook her a meal she didn't really want. "When does she come in town next?"

Dan shrugged, carefully placing the mozzarella on a piece of bread. "She has a weird schedule. She's usually in LA., but sure… next time."

Present Day

"When do you think he'll come on?" Dan asked, turning his head to her.

Blair didn't look up from the game of Sudoku that she had started playing on her phone, "Don't know. When he decides to come out, I guess."

"There's a nine in that square," Dan said, leaning over and looking over her shoulder.

Blair turned the phone so he couldn't see it but put in the 9 anyways. "Play your own game," she complained.

"How's the book going?" Dan asked, settling back on his side.

"It's going," Blair said, putting her phone down. "You're not going to let me play in peace."

"Not if you don't let me help," he responded.

"Fine," Blair said, slipping her phone back in her bag.

"So it's going well?"

"It's going as well as it can," she said, keeping her eyes focused on the stage. "It's a lot of work, and I'm finding it hard to separate myself from the material right now."

"Well it is a tough subject-"

The lights dimmed.

"Shh, he's coming on," Blair said, holding her finger to her lips. "Don't talk."

Dan made a motion like he was zipping his lips. Halfway through, he leaned over to her. "If you need me to look at it, let me know. I know we're not… you know, but I still want this to do well. I want you to do well."

"Shh," came Blair's response. However, she felt a knot in her throat starting and she cleared her throat to avoid it growing.

Six Months Ago

"Is that all you are going to have?" Dan's face showed his concern as his eyes locked in on the piece of pizza she had nibbled on.

"I'm sure there will be snacks at Serena's," Blair said, starting to clear plates. "You know I'm not big into pizza."

"How can you not love pizza?" Dan asked, stunned. "It's the perfect food. Tomatos, bread, cheese."

Blair shrugged, "I'll take them all separate. I don't need grease added to the mix."

"Suit yourself," Dan said, taking a dish that she washed and starting to dry it. "So, who is going to be at this party?"

"Serena, Nate," Blair said, starting to run through her high school friends. "Chuck Bass."

"Your ex boyfriend?" Dan asked, his eyebrows raising.

"It's cool. We're all kind of exes. Well, not like Serena and me… but you get it. I dated Nate, Nate dated Serena, Serena and I've drunkenly made out, and I've dated Chuck. It's a circle."

"Incestuous," Dan pulled a face.

"It was high school. Well, I mean… most of it. We're adults now. It's not a big deal."

"And what do they do?"

"This," Blair said, finishing the last plate. "They go out, drink and look pretty. Serena is paid to appear at parties. If it's Serena Van Der Woodsen approved, you know it's a good party. Nate… sweet Nate. He has a couple of jobs here and there. He mostly sails around on his dad's yacht. And Chuck," she paused and shrugged, "well, he's Chuck."

"What does that mean?"

"You'll see," Blair said. "I need to go put my make up on before we go. Are you wearing that?"

"Is there something else I should be wearing?" Dan asked, looking down at his outfit of choice. It was a basic button down and jeans. An outfit which was fine by most standards but they were about to go to Upper East Side standards.

Blair gave a half-hearted shrug, "Sure." She started to climb the stairs to go to her bedroom and her vanity.

"Blair!" he called up. "Blair, what should I be wearing?"

Blair held her nose dramatically before tipping her head back and letting the vodka burn her throat. Since getting the job at the magazine (and consequently working on a draft of a book), she had less and less time for her old friends. However, she had not missed a Serena Van Der Woodsen Summer Solstice party since the beginning of high school and she wasn't going to start now.

Blair slammed the shot glass down on the bar and turned back, raising her arms triumphantly to Dan. "I haven't done a shot in ages," she laughed, pressing her lips against his. "I thought I might have lost it."

Dan had been practically stunned into silence since they had arrived at the extravagance of a party that was thrown just to celebrate the beginning of the summer. "Right, well, good job."

"Let's do another. You join this time," she said, pulling his arm to the bar.

"I'm okay," Dan said, lifting his beer. "I'm trying to pace myself."

"B!" Serena came up from behind them, tugging Nate by the tie behind her. "I thought that was you," she said, throwing her arms around Blair. "Nate said you wouldn't show."

"That's not fair," he said. "I said that I didn't think she would come. I wasn't 100% positive on her not showing up."

"Of course I came," Blair said, pulling away from Serena and embracing Nate. "I would never miss this. It's tradition. Oh, hey," she said, pulling Dan from behind her. "This is Dan Humphrey."

Serena put out her hand, "Nice to meet you, Dan." Her eyes twinkled as she sized him up. "Friend of Blair's?"

"Boyfriend," Dan corrected, turning to Blair expectedly as though he was looking for her approval.

Blair looked around, "Where's the other one?"

"He'll show," Serena said, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure in as dramatic fashion as he can. So," she excitedly gestured between the two of them, "where did you meet?"

"Come on," Nate said, patting Dan on the back and leading him away from the girls. "Let them catch up. Otherwise, you're just going to hear a lot of fast, high pitched talking."

An hour later, Blair was knocking back another shot. Her arm was linked at the elbow with Serena's and they both finished and slammed their glass down at the same time.

"God, I've missed you!" Serena said, holding on to Blair's shoulders and shaking her slightly. There was a ruckus by the entrance and they both turned to look as Chuck entered, a gaggle of models following him. "Told you he'd be dramatic," Serena said, elbowing Blair in the side.

"Right," Blair said, feeling a feeling of despair hit her. "Let's do another."

When Dan came back from the bathroom, he found Blair a couple of shots drunker than when he left. "Hey," he said, reaching out and stabilizing her as she was wobbling in her heels. "You good?"

Blair rolled her eyes, "You worry too much, Humphrey. I'm fine. This is my natural environment."

"Drunk?"

"I'm not drunk," she could hear herself slurring. "I'm tipsy. Tipsy is cute, drunk is sloppy."

"I think you are crossing the line." Dan looked around, "Hey, Serena. Is she okay?"

"She's fine," she waved Dan's concerns off. "It's a party. Lighten up, Dan. She's just having a couple of drinks."

Dan took Blair by the shoulders and led her to a seat. "I'm going to grab you a water," he said as he put up a finger. "Hold on one second."

Blair's head rolled back slightly, as she tried to take in her blurry surroundings. She straightened herself as she saw Chuck walk towards her.

"Blair," Chuck said, a smirk appearing on his lips. "Lovely to see you."

"Chuck," she said, turning away from him.

"How are you?" he said, placing a hand on her knee. "It's been awhile."

Blair looked up at him through her eyelashes, "Fine."

"That's all? No, how are you back?"

"How are you?" she said through gritted teeth as Chuck's fingers inched up her leg just slightly.

"Great. Since we've broken up, I have found that there are so many girls in New York that are willing to mend my broken heart."

"I'm so glad to hear they are willing," Blair said, batting his finger away. "I've heard things recently," she said, her eyes narrowing. "About you. When we were together."

"And what," Chuck said, leaning into her and bending down so that his lips were next to her ear, "exactly have you heart?"

Dan appeared at that moment, holding a bottle of water. "Blair," he said, holding out the bottle. "I tried to find something for you to eat-"

"So this is the guy you downgraded to?" Chuck said, letting out a laugh. "I knew you were in your rebellious phase," he said looking Dan up and down, "but I didn't realize that you started perusing the gutter for your boyfriends."

Dan ignored him, reaching over and uncapping the water for her. "Drink," he told her.

Blair ignored both of them, "I want another drink."

"I think your dad is trying to tell you to drink water," Chuck said. He turned to Dan, letting out a couple of tsk sounds. "When she's on a roll like this, it's best to just step back and enjoy the show. This train is not stopping."

Dan stepped towards Blair, slinging her arm around his shoulders and lifting her out of the chair. "Come on," he said. "Let's go. I think you might have had enough."

Blair moved away from him, pressing against his chest. "I have had just the right amount," she clarified. "And now I will go and have just a little more. Where is Serena?"

Dan was leaning against the sink, his hand holding Blair's hair as she leaned over the toilet. "Can I get you something?"

"No," she said, feeling warm tears start to run down her cheek. "I'm fine. Go home."

"I have no where to be," he said. He fingers traced her neck as he gathered pieces that had failed from his grip.

Blair pulled her head from the toilet, "I'm so embarrassed."

"Happens to the best of us."

"Dan-"

"Seriously, Blair, don't worry about it. Maybe if you had something to sop up the alcohol in your stomach-"

"I need to shower," she said, cutting him off and stumbling slightly to the shower. "Thank you for your help."

Present Day

Manny had said no words the entire set. He had gone from one song to the next, blending them with the guitar so that they all ran together into one big song. Blair was mesmerized. It had been a long time since she had gone to a concert and she could not look away. She wanted to sneak a picture to remember the moment, but at the same time she didn't want to break away from watching him.

He started to play a familiar tune on the guitar. It wasn't a song from him, but Blair placed it immediately. She looked over at Dan, who seemed as enraptured in the show as she was.

"You know what this is?" she said, breaking the self-imposed embargo on not talking during the show.

"Huh?" he responded, not looking over.

"It's that Otis Redding song," she said, tugging at his sleeve so he looked at her. "It's the song you played for me."

Dan was quiet and then nodded, "So it is."

"Isn't that strange?" she pressed. "That he's playing this song out of all songs."

"It's a good song," Dan said. "I'm trying to listen," he said, pointing to his ear and turning his head back to watch.

Blair stared at him for a couple of seconds before leaning over, "Did you do this? You said your sister got us-"

"Blair," Dan snapped, "I'm trying to listen. No, I didn't have my sister have him play a song for you."

She looked at him wide eyed, "Oh. Okay. Well," she sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. "I was just wondering-"

"You made it very clear you didn't want anything anymore," he half way hissed and half way whispered. "So why would I go out of my way to change your mind?"

Five Month Ago

"Do you want a bite?" Dan said, holding out his fork.

Blair shook him off, "I'm good with my salad. He frowned and Blair dropped her fork, waiting for the moment that she was sure to come. She leaned back in her chair, "Just say it, Dan. I know you want to."

It had been the perpetual fight between them: what she eats, or more importantly, what she doesn't eat. She felt Dan's eyes more often than not when she was eating, watching as she pushed away most of her food. It wasn't that she had a problem. At least anymore. When she was in high school, sure. Binging and then what comes next… it was common practice for Blair. But she had gotten help for it and she was healed. So be it if she wanted to watch what she ate.

"I'm not going to say anything," Dan said, throwing his hands up defensively. "I just… is that all you are going to eat? You barely even touched the salad."

"Dan, I'm a grown woman. I eat enough." Blair dramatically forked a piece of lettuce into her mouth for emphasis.

Dan's eyes were trained on hers, "I worry about you."

Blair swallowed, "Don't."

"I don't think in the months we've been together-"

"I hate that phrase," Blair interrupted. "'Been together'", she air quoted, "what does that even mean? Do you count it back from the first time we were carnally together? From when we had 'the talk'? What consists of being together? The time we spend together?"

Dan reached over, putting his fingers on his wrist, "Hey, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want."

"This is a conversation I want to have," Blair pushed. "The whole being together thing. It sounds like we're children mimicking how we think we should be talking. Are you going to start saying we make love next?"

Dan took a sharp breath in, "You know that's not the conversation I mean. Is it eating in front of me?"

"I'm fine," she blurted out. "I'm perfectly fine. I'm at a healthy weight. I watch what I eat. So what? So does every other woman in Manhattan. Even the ones you don't think are counting calories, trust me that they are."

Dan leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table, "You eat hummus as though it constitutes a dinner."

"It does when you add in the fact that I mostly eat it with vegetables." Blair looked around for their waiter, throwing her index finger in the air, "Check please."

"Blair," Dan said, sounding frustrated. "I'm not trying to attack you. I want you to be healthy and happy. Are you either of those things?"

"What I want is a boyfriend who doesn't meticulously watch every bite of food that I put in my mouth," Blair fired back. "You wonder why I don't eat in front of you? It's hard to when I know you are watching for any movement of my fork. I'm fine, Dan. Some people don't need as much food as others. I don't need you to be my nutritionist or doctor or whatever the fuck you are playing at." Blair stood, her chair hitting the table leg as she shot out from it.

Dan looked up at her, his credit card in hand, "Where are you going?"

"I need fresh air," she told him gathering her things. "I need fresh air and I need to be away from you."

Blair rang the doorbell again impatiently. She had a bottle of wine in her free hand as she nervously stepped from side to side. It had been so long since she had shown up at his doorstep like this. And, since backing out of her social obligations, she saw less and less of him around that she was almost nervous to just drop by.

But then he opened the door and Blair felt immediately at ease.

Nate was wearing nothing but sweatpants, halfheartedly drying his hair with a towel as he pulled back the door. "Blair?" he asked, looking confused but beckoning her in anyways. He led her into the living room, "Make yourself at home. I'm going to just go grab a shirt."

Blair nodded, taking in the new decorations in the living room. When she had been here last, it had been sparsely decorated and Nate had just moved in from his shared bachelor pad with Chuck. It was less than a year ago but it felt like a lifetime. She moved through the living room, looking at the pictures that were in frames and laughed to herself that half of them were people Nate knew and half of them were still stock photos.

"You haven't seen the place fully furnished," Nate said, walking into the living room with two glasses and his own bottle of wine. "Figured you wouldn't want to share."

Blair smiled, "You know me so well." A trait, she noted to herself, that Dan lacked. Without years of intertwining histories, Dan only had a year to go on. It was something that Blair was still struggling on how to deal with.

She took a seat on the couch and Nate settled in on the cushion on the other side. "Let me open it for you," he said, putting his hand out for the bottle. "So, what brings you here, Blair?"

"Just thought I'd stop by," she said, pulling her feet under her butt. "It's been awhile."

"It has," he agreed as he handed her the glass. "How are you?"

"Let's not talk about me," she said, lifting her glass to her lips.

"Uh oh," he said, raising his eyebrow and smirking. "Blair Waldorf not wanting to discuss her favorite subject? What did he do?"

Blair shrugged, throwing herself into the cushions, "He's just not one of us. He doesn't get it. There's a history that's missing and I find myself wishing that he could just absorb everything without me telling him."

"I thought that's what you wanted," Nate said. "I thought you wanted to be a career woman and not be tied down by the UES."

"Maybe I need something different than I want. Maybe we're not meant to stray so far from home. Or at least, maybe I'm not meant to. With you and with Chuck, you guys just knew things without me telling you them. It was easier."

"We had the benefit of years of friendship," Nate said.

Blair slipped one leg out from under him and gently pushed her foot into his leg. "When did you get so wise?" She sighed, "I'm also working on this book. It's about women in our social group and rape culture-"

"What?"

"How to explain it," she bit her lip. "Kind of when no doesn't mean no but it's blurred lines. And the UES and how it perpetuates that through the drinking and the partying and the sweeping things under the rug."

"Yikes," Nate grimaced. "I hope none of us are in it."

"You're not. No one has anything but good things to say about you, Nathanial."

"So, how's it going?"

"It's not," Blair said, slinking back into the couch more. "I've hit a wall. I've interviewed so many people but it's like it's a story I no longer want to write. I feel too close to it. These are people I know that I'm talking about. And then it's a cycle of sweeping it under the rug. And you know when I stress I don't eat-"

"You mean eat less than you normally do?"

"Exactly. So now Dan is picking up on that. I don't want to tell him I'm struggling with writing because he's the one that's pushed me to the book in the first place. I don't want to disappoint him. But he's a distraction just as much as he's a help. There's this overwhelming feeling for me of wanting to impress him- but he's also my boyfriend? I'm lost, Nate," she said, gulping down the last part of her wine. "I feel unbalanced."

"And so you came here?" he said, leaning forward.

"You've always, besides our disastrous turns at dating, have been a person who felt as much like home as my home does," she admitted. "I needed someone from my old life to tell me that I'm not going crazy."

"You're not going crazy," he said, his hand on her knee as he gave it a friendly shake. "But word of advice, don't work too hard that you lose yourself."

"This coming from Mr. Bachelor Pad himself?"

"Hey," he chuckled. "I started my own business while you weren't looking. Personal sailboat tours up and down the Atlantic."

"Nate!" she said, clapping her hands together. "I'm so proud."

"Give me your glass," he said, reaching out for it. "We'll cheers to me and cheers to drinking your problems away."

Four Months Ago

"It's not you, it's me," Blair cringed at the line she let slip through her mouth as she faced Dan in her kitchen. "I need to work on myself and also this book. I need to tunnel vision myself."

"Is it because of our fight last week? I thought we were okay after that?" Dan asked, furrowing his brow in confusion."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I need time by myself. I need to figure out where I want to go with this book. And… I think I need to just focus on that."

"Blair," Dan said, "I can drop the eating thing. I get it, you're fine."

"Dan," she said firmly. "It's not that. I need to be myself. You are great, but this," she motioned between them, "is distracting me."

Dan looked at her for a moment as though she was going to change her mind. She had the decency to keep eye contact and not shy away from her decision. With a sad roll of his shoulders, Dan gave a curt nod and walked out of her apartment.

Present Day

Blair watched Dan from the corner of her eye, glancing over at random moments in the concert. He, however, never seemed to glance back at her. Her icy edge was melting and being in his presence made it a lot harder than she wanted it to be to admit to herself that she wasn't over him.

Manny finished a song, nodded to the audience and left the stage. The entire audience seemed to gasp, looking at the stage expectantly as though he was going to come back on. However, the lights in the venue brightened and just like that, the show was over.

Blair sat stunned for a second that that was it. Her and Dan both sat still in their chars before looking over and their eyes meeting. "Do you want to get a drink?" Blair asked, before she could stop herself.

Dan shrugged, "I'm meeting someone."

"Oh," she said, giving a nod. "Right. Well, cool. It was nice to see you, Dan," she said as she stood up.

"I could grab one," he said, as she gathered her stuff.

Blair shook her head, "It's fine. I should really go back to work."

"Blair."

"Dan, it's fine," she said, feeling a tickle in the back of her throat. "I hope you have a lovely evening."

"I'm coming!" Blair yelled to the door. The doorbell had been ringing for the last three minutes and she, at first, tried to will it to be quiet by shoving a pillow over her head. When she realized that the doorbell was ringing intentionally and not by some punk ass kids ding dong ditching her (probably kids from Brooklyn…), she slowly made her way out of bed.

She figured it was Nate. He had developed a penchant (as she had as well) of showing up at her door at random hours. They would grab a couple of bottles of wine and chat in the living room until one of them fell asleep mid conversation. They were well past their expiration date on romance, but the friendship was still nice to have. And he, by having no expectations of the caliber of work she should be showing, proved to be a great listener and reader for the draft of the book that she had been hard at work on.

"Nate, it's two in the morning," Blair swung the door open.

Dan stared back at her, looking a little sad as he propped himself up on railing. "Nate?"

"He just… he's a friend," she managed to get out. "He just sometimes comes over."

"I think I made a mistake," Dan said, sucking in his lip as he gave a nod and started to walk down the stairs.

Blair pulled her robe close to her body as she stepped outside, "What mistake? Dan, why are you here?"

"I thought," he said, turning around at the bottom of the stairs. "I thought maybe after the concert there was something still there. But you've moved on."

Blair hurried down the stairs, her hand finding his arm as she pulled him to face her. "Hey, no," she said, "he's just a friend. I swear. Dan, why are you here?"

"I love you, Blair," he said, his head tilted towards the ground. "I haven't stopped. I was lying in bed thinking of you tonight when I got home. I fucked up at the concert. I didn't have plans. So I went home and I couldn't stop thinking about you. I've managed to push you aside for the last couple of months but I miss you."

Blair kissed him, her hand on the back of his neck as it ran through the short curls he had. Dan's hands hungrily ran over her body, resting first on her hips and then her lower back and then her face as though he couldn't believe his luck. Blair pulled away and laughed lightly, "Want to come in?"

"Yes," he nodded, kissing her collarbone. "I would like that. I would like that very much."