Alright, so I am not a huge Gossip Girl fan and never have been (for reasons more or less personal), but if there is one thing this show has me in love with it's Blair and Dan, separately and together.

These two bring out the amazing in each other and I just can't get enough of their friendship. It's as if Blair is a pair of gloves which fit perfectly on Dan's hands, as creepy as that simile might sound. I don't understand why these two weren't the focus from the beginning, as a possible couple, but then again, if they had been, it might have gone awfully wrong (let's not forget the main couple of this show and that tragic outcome). Still, I could replace most of this show with just these two verbally sparring and it would be enough. They are that awesome.

I'm hoping for them to hook up, especially since it's been made pretty obvious they both have feelings for each other. But, knowing this show, it will probably not happen, so I thought I should finally a write a piece on them so I could at least have my version in my head and share it with people who agree.

Now, I've been watching this show sporadically, so don't be too upset if I don't hit all this show's inner references.

Anyhow, this story takes place between season 4 and 5, because I suppose the next season will skip summer? I have no idea. Either way, you can place it in that timeline.

I'm not sure if I'll keep it a oneshot or not, but feel free to give advice.

Hope you enjoy.

She was halfway through a rant about why Quentin Tarantino is highly overrated and how Reservoir Dogs was a shameless guilty-pleasure project, when all of a sudden, Dan Humphrey cut her off, feeling the need to remind her the time.

"Not that I don't appreciate some good arguments against Tarantino, but it's been...yes, three hours and fifteen minutes almost."

Blair stopped shortly.

"Oh. Really? Three? It couldn't have been more than two, I'm sure of it."

The simple fact that she still thought two hours of nonstop talking was normal made him smile.

"I mean I would know if so much time had passed. Someone would have come and told me I have to get up and ready for yet another meeting with a long-lost royal relative. God, there are so many scattered cousins."

He didn't fail to see the humour in the term "scattered cousins". But he remembered it was about midnight when they started talking.

"Wait, isn't it like three in the morning there? Don't tell me you can't even tell the difference anymore, Waldorf."

Blair made a face in her phone.

"We get up at five," she said, sounding resigned.

"Still two hours to go then and...ouch."

"You'd think that becoming the wife of a monarch and thus a monarch by extension would entitle me to some resting hours, but no, I must be at their beck and call, like a disposable recipient with no free will. But I won't bore you. I've complained enough."

"Oh, no please, keep going, I want to hear your misery so I can muster the necessary compassion to pity a princess," he mocked.

Truth be told, she had been complaining about it for some weeks now, but it was a normal reaction. She had expected hardship. She was ready for it. She just needed to talk about it sometimes.

"You, of all people, should be more sympathetic and let me rant in my time of need."

"Me? Because I know the pains of royalty?"

"No, Humphrey. Because you know what it's like trying to please everyone."

Dan flinched.

"You do know we have that in common, right?"

Blair turned on her side and took a look at her alarm clock. Damn, it had been three hours.

"What? Breathing? Because right now we don't even share the same air," she replied, avoiding his question.

"Well, it's a step. You once claimed we had nothing in common."

Blair shifted her body in her bed nervously. There were too many stupid pillows around her.

She threw a couple on the floor.

"Well, what could I say? That we share passionate interests and we should keep having brunches in the city? What's the use? Our friendship was doomed from the start."

"I wouldn't say doomed. We're not having such a bad time now, are we?"

Blair rolled her eyes. She hated when he played daft.

"Humphrey, I'm getting married. That means we'll be seeing each other less and less, not only because I will be busy with hundreds of social events that will cancel out my already thinning patience, but also because I have to stand by Louis all the time, no matter country or time zone, and not that I have a burning desire to witness the poor ensemble of a tortured artist you put on, but a friendship can't survive through excessive phone talking."

Dan knew this was Blair's inaccurate way of saying she needed to actually see him, not just talk to him. And he was loath to admit he felt the same way, although phone worked fine for him at the moment. Better than nothing anyway, he kept telling himself to avoid the bitter thoughts.

But he chose to say something else instead. Something he had told her before, one way or another, but which deserved another try, if nothing else. (it was becoming a philosophy of his, the nothing else)

"Well, is that going to make you happy?"

He had launched the million-dollar question. The "is this really what you want?" gimmick of every princess scenario, the Roman Holiday of his life. Although, this was Blair, so it was bound to be less sunshine and more headaches.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, those social events, the political responsibilities, standing by His Majesty 24/7..."

She sighed.

"Don't misunderstand me. I know I've made them sound like toils. Well, they are actually, and they will be difficult, but not insurmountable and I have been trained for this all my life, they only sound challenging in theory, but once I actually..."

"That's not what I meant, Waldorf. I know you can handle all your royal responsibilities. You've always acted like a dictator around here, no point in thinking you couldn't take on an actual country."

"Then?"

"Do you want to handle it?"

"That is ridiculous, all throughout high school I – "

"Yes, you were very happy and fulfilled keeping your status intact and harvesting as many minions as possible," he commented, rolling his eyes.

"But even then, Blair," he continued, feeling he was about to make a point, "you enjoyed it, you enjoyed going through all that mess, you loved the hassle, even if it was doing you more harm than good. Now it sounds like you're not even getting much out of it. You actually feel obligated to act the way you thought was normal, three years ago."

"So what you are saying is that this princess business is no fun for me and that what I really need to do is get back to the sixteen year-old mindset?"

Dan sighed. She could be so daft, when she wanted to.

"No, Waldorf, quite the opposite."

"Have I mentioned that, for a writer, words are not your forte?" she exclaimed annoyed.

"As impossible as it seems to me and everyone else...you've changed, Blair. You're no longer the teen brat who treated the Upper East Side like her personal playground. You've got past the insufferable Queen Bee persona. You don't enjoy making people your subjects. You don't even want to shatter lives and dreams anymore. You have a more...realistic view on life. You're no longer a princess. That's why I thought you wouldn't want to step back into that old routine. That's why you don't really enjoy it, becoming a princess again."

Dan hated that the speech had sounded too practiced, even for him, but after weeks of waiting for the right moment to say it, now was as good a time as any.

There was silence, of course, as Blair went over every single word with the precision of a watch maker.

"I stand corrected, I suppose. You...you do have a way with words," she mumbled more to herself.

Dan waited patiently for her to go on. Surely she wouldn't close in on herself and decide to freeze him for an entire week again, would she?

He shook his head. This wasn't like their first kiss. She wouldn't bolt.

He waited, counting the minutes and switching the phone from one ear to another, his hands as hot as the thing itself. He heard her breathing evenly.

"Well?" he asked, after another round of silence.

"We should get back on track. We have three movies left to discuss," she said at length.

"...so, we should just ignore what we were talking about?"

"Well, there's no point going any further with Reservoir Dogs," she played dumb. "We both agreed it was mediocre. Speaking of Tarantino, I'm not a big fan of Pulp Fiction either. I mean, let's not even start with the cacophonic art direction and punch-lines meant to copy other better styles, but the script is juvenile. I mean, Mia's speech about two people sharing a comfortable silence was the most farcical thing I've heard in years."

Dan closed his eyes in resignation. Of course. His speech had come and gone and she had cowardly reverted to their safety net which was what they had in common after all. (Pop) Culture.

"Maybe it was meant to be farcical."

"Come on, Humphrey. No one is that subtle, not Tarantino either way."

"Comfortable silences between two people seem so far-fetched to you?"

"No. The idea that that's all it takes for two people to get along. For them to be comfortable in silence. They need to talk. Communication is unavoidable. And if that communication is stale, no amount of silences will make up for it. Trust me, I know, I've dated Nate."

"He's not such a stellar friend, either, so I can't disagree," Dan said, chuckling to himself. "I've talked more with you in one day than with him in two years."

Blair smiled, strangely content to hear that.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to have a brain behind that pretty face," she commented.

"Awww, thanks Waldorf," he mocked.

"Ha, ha, Dan. Your sense of humour is as..."

"You called me Dan?"

"What?"

"Just now. You said my name."

"No, I didn't."

"Trust me, I can recognize my name when I hear it. And Humphrey takes a bit longer to say."

"So you are on the lookout if I ever happen to slip your name in? God, you really are starved for attention, aren't you?"

Dan sighed. "The Hamptons aren't doing much for me."

"Not if you spend all your time talking to someone like me," she said, something sad lingering in her voice.

"I...don't mind."

"Well, you should. I mean you should do something with your life. At least meet new people. I don't think Georgina and Vanessa have caused irreparable damage. Go out and let others see the Humphrey appeal."

"The what?"

Blair sighed. She knew it would get to his head, but he deserved a bone, didn't he? Especially after what he had said.

She shook her head.

"Serena and I had a talk...about our friendship, and by that I mean the puzzling thing we have going."

"Don't worry, I don't make confusions. Go on."

"I... might have told her I can understand why she dated you or tried to, for so long. You're not half-bad and all that."

"Aha," Dan said, trying hard not to grin like an idiot, "and which one of you lovely ladies coined the "Humphrey appeal"?"

"As it there was something to coin..." she began slightly flustered.

"Hey, I called you dictator of taste, it's only fair you call me appealing," he said, grinning fully.

"I said I could begin to understand the appeal, not that I find you...nevermind, this is becoming increasingly stupid," she said, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion. No sleep, yet again.

"Only for a second there..." he joked.

"My entirely missed point was that you should try and take advantage of your means, and I don't mean financial ones. Publish some of that hilarious writing," she said.

"My turmoil is hilarious to you?" he asked amused.

"Here I am, trying to give you advice and you throw it back in my face. Typical."

"Hey, don't worry about me. I don't have it all figured out, like you do, but I am doing fine."

"That's a gross exaggeration. I do not have it all figured out..." she muttered.

"You're kidding, right?"

He could almost hear Blair fuming on the phone, searching for the right retort. The uncomfortable silence stretched for five minutes, proving that she was right about Pulp Fiction.

"You know, I was never a princess, Humphrey," she began, in an eerily stern voice.

"What?"

"I was never a princess. And I am not a princess now. I don't consider myself one, in any case. I never needed a title to rule. I worked for it and I got it. I know, Blair Waldorf actually putting an effort. Well, harvesting minions as you put it, takes time and patience. And have you ever even tried governing over a mass of hysterical adolescents? Have you ever tried carrying the weight of just my name, let alone the extraneous title that comes with it, on your shoulders? No, I don't believe you have."

Dan smiled, despite himself.

"I see. I should have known you wouldn't settle for that poor description."

"True, my sixteen-year old self was an immature bitch, but she was still a self-sacrificing one," she added as an after-thought.

Dan opened his mouth in shock. Had Blair Waldorf just called herself "immature bitch"?

No. Way.

"I must say I didn't much care for that immature bitch," he repeated amused.

Hey, it was the only time he'd get to say it.

"That's the only time you'll ever get to say that about me, so enjoy it while it lasts."

He hid a chuckle.

"Well, since I like you a lot more now, that...person must have left the building."

"Yes, that might have happened. Or at least I hope so."

"You do realize you've indirectly agreed to my speech, right?" Dan asked, just to be sure.

"No, I haven't. I might have changed for the better, but I've always been Blair Waldorf, not some outlandish, delusional Upper East Side royalty. Because, being me is hard enough, I don't need princess in the equation," she concluded with determination.

A couple of moments later she realized what she had said.

And she put a palm over her mouth.

Dan knew he shouldn't, but she had said it herself.

No going back now.

"Then what are you still doing there, Blair?" he asked, triumphantly, yet still somewhat disheartened.

This was the only question Blair would leave unanswered.

She had nothing to say. Absolutely nothing.

No reason, no rhyme.

She hung up thirty seconds after that and he sank back into his couch with the feeling that something had either gone right or wrong.