(A/N) Inspired by the 2nd season episode where they perform The Age Of Innocence as a high school play. Quotes, title, and plot points borrowed from Edith Wharton.

AND NOTHING ELSE ON EARTH WILL MATTER

-"Archer was too intelligent to think that a young woman like Ellen Olenska would necessarily recoil from everything that reminded her of her past. She might believe herself wholly in revolt against it; but what had charmed her in it would still charm her even though it were against her will."-

Blair left Chuck in a casino in Monte Carlo. He was losing, badly, and he didn't spare her a second glance as she stormed back to their penthouse suite to pack her bags.

Henry was with her father in his French chateau for the summer, making friends with the local peasantry and chasing Roman's pretty Persian cats all around the grounds. She missed him terribly, but put up with it because she had gotten in into her mind that Henry should grow up to be elegantly European. It was better that than have him grow into a spoiled American billionaire like his father.

Chuck phoned her during her two-hour lull between flights, as she sipped a cocktail in the first class lounge and answered Jenny Humphrey's frantic emails about missing fabric and useless models.

"Blair," he coaxed, his voice all deep and sinuous, "You're being ridiculous. Come back here right now."

"Oh please, you didn't even realise I was gone until you woke up and wondered why you had to order breakfast yourself. And don't think I don't know about Sophie."

"Sophie?" She could just picture the carefully schooled incredulity twisting his features.

Chuck hadn't changed. Or, he had…mostly…but every so often he would slip, would chase some skirt or go on a week long gambling/drinking bender that she suspected had something to do with his father, and maybe more to do with the fact that he knew he didn't deserve her.

"Sophie," she narrowed her eyes, staring angrily at her deep red nails. There was a chip in the gloss of her pinkie nail and it irritated her disproportionately. "The loose masseuse you've been fucking behind my back." She didn't shout. All this was said quite calmly.

And why shouldn't she be calm? It was an annual occurrence. They would reconcile in a month or so, just in time for Henry to arrive home and life to go on as usual. But perhaps this time it wouldn't. She was exhausted to her very bones.

"Blair…"

"Goodbye, Chuck."

-"He had married (as most young men did) because he had met a perfectly charming girl at the moment when a series of rather aimless sentimental adventures were ending in premature disgust; and she had represented peace, stability, comradeship, and the steadying sense of an unescapable duty."-

The sun was setting over Brooklyn Bridge as Dan lingered on the balcony of his apartment. His latest novel, not yet published, was crumpled in his balled fists. It was terrible, truly terrible. Even Rufus hadn't been able to find anything good to say about it. Serena had, of course, told him it was wonderful, but Serena wasn't much of a reader…unless, of course, it concerned her.

Stretching the palm of one hand, he let the pages drift on the wind – hovering, and then falling, falling, falling to the sidewalk below.

"Dude!" a pretzel vendor squinted up at him from the street, "D'ya mind?"

Dan smiled sheepishly, raising his hand in a gesture of apology. He retreated into the gloom of the empty apartment and stuffed the rest into the trashcan, hiding them below several wads of kitchen towel so that Serena wouldn't think to pick them back out.

She was out at some charity event with her mother. Dan had been invited, sort of, but hobnobbing with the rich and mighty held little appeal these days. Sometime in between losing Blair and waking up that very morning with Serena's kiss on his lips, he had grown up. He wasn't the awkward boy from the wrong side of the city any more, but nor was he the jealous mastermind behind Gossip Girl…he had hoped that marrying Serena, his first love (obsession) he would become some more successful version of his father and live happily ever after. But he was a writer, possessed with the gift of vision – of seeing things that others could not – and he should have realised that happy ever after is only a neat way to wrap up a story, and that in real life he would have to live what came after.

Besides, villains never lived happily ever after did they? They were punished. And his punishment was this; a beautiful society wife who he loved but didn't love, because he had realised – staring into the cerulean blue of her eyes one morning over coffee – that Serena was not at all what he wanted.

Oh she had had her wild streak back then, but those days were long behind her. Like Lily, she was growing into another version of her grandmother. Perfectly coiffed, charming, an excellent hostess…but it was all a façade carefully constructed (by the same hands that had changed Lily) over the passing years. They reminisced together, but Serena would never be that girl again; it was all childish memories to her.

INISIDE's fans still clamoured in forums for the continuation of that story. No matter how many experimental urban westerns, or volumes of short stories, he churned out, they never had managed to let his debut go. It should be easy, an anonymous forum comment had read, he married Sabrina, didn't he? There should be crazy amounts of material.

Dan sighed and stared at his first novel, tucked innocuously away on his shelf. He had tried and tried…it was the pages of a sequel that he had just thrown away…but it was dull with only Dylan and Sabrina. They were boring, weighting down the words he typed with their lethargic routine. It was Charlie Trout and, even more importantly, Clair who had driven the story. He was Clair he wanted, it was Clair who would set fire to the pages…even now…it was Blair.

He twisted a hand into his unruly black hair and squeezed his eyes shut. They maintained distance now, and every year it grew. If they attended the same party it was an acknowledging nod but never a hello. They never passed each other in the street because Blair avoided Brooklyn (and often chastised Serena for lowering herself to live there, even if they did have another apartment in the upper east side that Dan had never set foot in). But he knew her every step, of course he did, he was Gossip Girl after all. Oh, the site no longer existed except as ancient Internet history viewable only on the Wayback Machine, but there were other websites, society pages, television interviews. Blair was a former princess and now the head of an extremely successful fashion house, and that was without mentioning her infamous husband.

Serena didn't know and she would never guess. He was the master of deception after all, and was it a crime to simply watch someone from afar?

-"It was the old New York way...the way people who dreaded scandal more than disease, who placed decency above courage, and who considered that nothing was more ill-bred than "scenes", except those who gave rise to them. "-

"Blair," Serena clucked her tongue gently, placing her teaspoon back on the white china saucer, "You know Chuck loves you. How can you say that?"

Staring at her longtime closest friend with narrowed eyes, Blair raked the tips of her manicured fingernails across the lace tablecloth and let out a frustrated sigh. Dresses were draped across the backs of the other dining table chairs, waiting for her approval, and Dorota was peering out of the window at the press prowling like wolves in the street.

"I can say that, S, because it is true. Every word of it. And I'm tired."

"Tired of what? Blair, you have a beautiful life."

Serena smiled kindly, placidly. Not a wisp of blonde hair escaped her elegant chignon, and the pearls that hung at her throat had once belonged to CeCe. Once, the summer before they had started at Constance, they had rifled through CeCe's jewellery box and taken turns trying them on. They had looked ridiculous on Serena back then, when she had worn her hair down and not bothered about split ends, but how they suited her now.

"Did he phone you?" Blair asked suspiciously, "Is that why you're taking his side? Has he cried crocodile tears down the line?"

"Of course not, B. I'm just concerned, that's all. You've been pulling stunts like this for too long now, and we're past the age when people let things slip."

"Are you lecturing me on gossip, Serena? Really? Need I remind you that you were the talk of the town for well over five years?" Blair pursed her lips.

Serena almost frowned, but caught herself in time. Instead she sat up a little straighter, her expression softly disapproving. "That was then, this is now. You don't know how I've had to defend you. I don't agree with them, but there's little I can do. Blair…I had to practically fight to get you an invitation to the Met Gala tonight, and…"

"But I'm not the one," Blair interrupted suddenly with tears in her eyes, "I'm not the one who does all these awful things. It's Chuck!"

Serena reached across the table and placed her cool hand over Blair's, "B, you knew what Chuck was like when you married him. You've always known. You can't keep rebelling. You can only accept it."

"And what if I can't?"

"Divorce?" Serena raised an eyebrow, "Come on, we both know how well my mother's multiple divorces turned out for her. You can squash a scandal, but it could take years."

"I'm not your mother, Serena," Blair said pointedly. She pushed her tea aside as she had left it to grow cold. Her phone buzzed in her handbag and she ignored it with studied determination. There was no need to check who it was.

"You've already had one failed marriage, Blair," Serena reminded her, "and you're not even thirty. Plus you've Henry to think of. You don't want him to grow up without a father, do you?"

Ah, yes, to be a fatherless child. They both knew how that was. Only Blair had never been without the assurance of her father's love and Serena had. She supposed that was another reason Serena had settled down as she had; she was no longer searching for her father, for validation, for anything at all.

"Miss Blair," Dorota scurried over to them, "They're gathering like vultures out there. You want I should arrange for your car to come to the back?"

Blair looked at the selection of dresses, all of them in muted, dark colours, and rolled her eyes. "Never mind," she felt suddenly exhausted, "I'm too tired to-"

"B, you have to," Serena interjected, "I've been backing you all week, I'll look stupid if you blow them off, and they'll just talk even more…you know that."

Yes…yes she did.

-"The real loneliness is living among all these kind people who only ask one to pretend!"-

His shirt was too stiff and it itched around his collarbone. Dan tugged at his tie and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Serena was to his left; exchanging air kisses with Penelope Shafai and her husband. Penelope was pregnant and just as awful as ever. Nate waved to him from the bar and he nodded, planning the route by which he would slip over and away from his husbandly duties.

The room was crowded, people spilling out onto the balconies and laughing as they sipped champagne from crystal flutes and ate hors d'oeuvres from tiny plates held by stoic waiters.

"Daniel," Lily kissed him a little coldly. She had been that way since her annulment from Rufus. He suspected that she suspected that he wasn't keeping Serena as happy as he could.

"Lily," he nodded, "William."

"And how is your father?"

"Oh," Dan managed a careless smile, "he's great. Same as always…you know."

She knew. She moved off, either actually bored or just feigning disinterest. He suspected it was the latter, because the only question she ever really asked him was how his father was, and you didn't do that for no reason.

"Where is she?" Serena muttered, looking intently around.

"Who?" Dan asked, knitting his eyebrows together.

"Blair!"

His mouth went suddenly dry and he tried to remember what she had been babbling about back at their apartment in between choosing his tie and picking out his shoes. "You didn't tell me she was coming," he said.

Serena shook her head at him, mistaking his irritation to be for Blair rather than for her. "Dan, please," she pleaded in a tone of cajolement and finality, "She's my friend, remember? I want you to be nice to her. She's been through enough."

He stared at her incredulously. Either Serena had forgotten her unspoken rule or she was now giving him permission to break it.

A hush began to spread slowly through the guests and they looked towards the entrance. Blair was there, dressed in a sequined dark burgundy gown – her long chestnut hair half pinned back with a sparkling gold and ruby clip. Her eyes were large and sparkled in the light, so much so that he wondered if she had been crying before making her entrance. She looked the same as always, and yet there was a defeated slump to her shoulders that he had not noticed before.

Serena dashed forward and took her hand, Lily and William and Eric following suit. Dan stayed where he was, just watching her.

"Dan," Serena called, beckoning him, "Blair has just returned from Monaco. Chuck stayed behind to take care of some business matters, isn't that right?" she spoke just a tad loudly, her words meant for the long ears of the upper class.

Dan made his way forward and extended his hand, suddenly feeling sixteen again. She looked at him and there was nothing there, but moments from the past flashed before his eyes: her accident, her wedding…I'm not in love…with Blair… her standing in front of him in tears, dressed in a white Vera Wang gown, their first kiss, their second kiss, tell me what would make you happy Dan….every little moment culminating in his sleeping with Serena and her return to Chuck.

"Humphrey," she greeted him in that infuriating way that she almost always had. Her hand, small, smooth and pale, shook his and he held on tight. He had never forgotten what she felt like, a fragile doll with a will of iron. Something passed between them and she gasped, her red lips parting and distracting him.

"Blair," he said her name as if a thousand sentences that should have been said long ago would follow it. But none did.

It was only a moment and then she was gone, whisked away by Serena to greet botoxed and judgmental old hags who looked down on her for running away from a man who was callous and cruel. Yes, he knew about Chuck. He had read the columns, knew she had been back in New York for several days, knew that Chuck had stayed behind and been spotted frequently in the arms of some big-breasted barmaid.

As he looked at her, smiling a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, he wondered if she was as alone as he felt. Why couldn't she be unhappy, if she was? Why couldn't she be sad? Why couldn't he comfort her as he had when she had run from Louis, and promise her that he would always be there for her? What was the point of all this pretence?

-"I swear I only want to hear about you, to know what you've been doing. It's a hundred years since we've met-it may be another hundred before we meet again."-

Dan didn't plan it, but they met again in Lily's penthouse. Serena had dragged him there on what she had promised to be a quick stop (but ten minutes had turned into an hour which had melted into two) to pick up some papers for something or other. She and Lily had wandered off into the bedrooms and he could hear them laughing if he strained his ears.

Blair entered as the clock struck half two, her heels tap tap tapping on the polished floor. She wore a black dress suit and skirt, with a white silk blouse. Her hair was curled neatly over her shoulders and a quarter of her face was hidden behind dark sunglasses. She stopped when she saw him, her mouth a perfect inscrutable line.

"Humphrey," she nodded. "Is Serena…"

"Don't call me that," he stood, immediately falling back into the way he would slump slightly to lower their height difference, something he never had to worry about with Serena. "You know my name, Blair."

She said nothing. He didn't even know if she was looking at him, as he couldn't see her eyes, only his reflection in her glasses – messy hair, writers-block-stubble- and hollow cheeks.

He touched his hand to her shoulder and she flinched. "How are you?" he asked, "Tell me how you are."

"Let go of me Dan," her voice cracked on his name.

Damn Chuck to hell. Damn the world to hell.

He let her go. "She's in Lily's room. Tell her I've gone out for coffee would you," he said, ignoring the steaming mug already sitting on the table. Suddenly he needed air – great big lungfuls of it.

She nodded and disappeared down the hall, the tap tap of her heels fading away into nothingness.

He left.

-"You must be sure to go and see Ellen," she added, looking him straight in the eyes with her cloudless smile, and speaking in the tone she might have employed in urging him not to neglect some irksome family duty.-

"She's holing herself up in her apartment," Serena complained, switching off her phone and placing it down on the nightstand, "Dorota said she barely leaves, hardly eats and never takes Chuck's calls."

"Well why should she?" Dan put down the book he had been skimming and frowned at his wife, "Can you blame her?"

"She's going to make herself sick," Serena continued, ignoring him, "And Jenny phoned me this morning in a panic. Blair's left everything to her, you know. She has two shows coming up and she hasn't approved anything."

"Jenny knows what she's doing," Dan smiled fondly, thinking of his resilient little sister.

"Dan!" Serena said loudly, making him jump, "Will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Go and see her? She's all alone. Maybe you can talk some sense into her."

"Why can't you go?" he asked.

"I'm busy," she had a lot of social obligations, he knew, "and you…" well, he didn't. He was a writer who couldn't currently write. He had lots of free time.

-"I couldn't have spoken like this yesterday, because when we've been apart…. every thought is burnt up in a great flame. But then you come; and you're so much more than I remembered, and what I want of you is so much more than an hour or two every now and then, with wastes of thirsty waiting between…."-

"Lonely boy?" Dorota mouthed in bewilderment as the elevator pinged open to reveal him inside. He laughed genuinely as she blinked at him and stepped into the foyer where he had not set foot for over five years.

"Well…ah, it's technically Lonely Man now…ah, but, anyway…Hi, Dorota. Is Blair home?"

She narrowed her eyes, "What you want with Mrs. Bass?"

He rubbed at his bristly jaw, slightly doubting in the face of her formal name. "Mrs. Humphrey asked me to stop by. She thought maybe I could cheer her up."

"You did take good care of her, those years ago," Dorota admitted, relaxing, "after prince…"

"Right," Dan edged forward, longing to walk up those familiar curved stairs. Why had Blair come back here, instead of to the place she shared with Chuck? Surely that meant something? He wanted it to mean something.

"Wait," the maid cried as he began to ascend, "Mr Chuck…he has hurt her very much this time. She pretends she okay, but I see…Blair is like daughter to me…"

"I know," Dan felt a rush of affection for her, remembering how she had vigilantly looked out for Blair's happiness above all else, "You want her to be happy."

"You too," she said, "once."

…..

He knocked gently on Blair's door, listening. He heard the soft click of a laptop closing and then a small sniffle. "I told you not to disturb me," he heard her say, "there better be a good reason…" she broke off as she opened the door and saw him standing there, his hands stuffed awkwardly into the pockets of his scuffed leather jacket.

Her eyes were rimmed with red and her nose, as she wrinkled it in (surprise? Disgust?) was lightly pink. She was immaculately dressed however, as always.

"What are you doing here, Humphr…Dan?" she amended.

"Serena sent me."

"Oh," she stared blankly, crossing her arms.

"But I wanted to come. I would have come anyway." He didn't know the words were true until he said them. "I'm worried about you. I know about you and Chuck," she began to protest but he barreled on, "Well, maybe not all of it, but I know you aren't happy…not like you deserve to be…and I never stopped caring Blair, never, but…"

"Is that why you're here? To make me happy, Dan?"

"I did once," he felt the wall between them and wanted nothing more than to break it down…not brick by brick, but all at once with tremendous force.

"Once," she agreed, "and then you slept with Serena."

"And you went back to Chuck," it still stung, just as painfully as it had back then. "You went back to Chuck, slapped me in the face and told me I would never be part of your world."

"You were a monster," she sounded like she was apologising, "I never knew you at all. In the end, I thought you were worse than him. You lied Dan; you lied to everyone for years and for what? Did you get what you wanted? Are you happy now?"

"I never lied about loving you, Blair. That's the biggest truth of my life."

"Oh go away, Humphrey." She turned away from him, about to retreat into her dark room with the curtains pulled shut, but he grabbed her, his hand clasping her slender waist and suddenly she was in his arms and, to him, it felt as if she had never left them.

Her hair smelt clean and freshly washed, her skin like fresh linen and Chanel No.5. He could feel her heart beating against his chest and her breath tickling his neck.

"Serena wants me to forgive him again," she whispered into his shoulder, "and why shouldn't I? It's always been Blair and Chuck. He said it himself…anyone else is just a waste of time. I thought it was Destiny, I thought we would live…"

"Happily ever after," Dan finished bitterly, stroking her hair.

-"The taste of the usual was like cinders in his mouth, and there were moments when he felt as if he were being buried alive under his future."-

"You should try and convince her," Serena said over a breakfast that tasted of cardboard, "the summer's almost up and Henry will be back soon. Tell her that is best for her to reconcile."

Dan sipped his orange juice and tried to imagine what their own child would look like. Serena had put it off for a long time but she had recently become enamored with the idea. Another little It Girl, just like her. That was what she wanted. She would attend Constance and Yale and look and act just like her mother, and maybe some slightly less calculating version of Lonely Boy would watch her from across the cafeteria and try desperately to get her to notice him.

And Dan would grow old watching history repeat itself. It seemed a yawning, tiresome vision of the future.

"Best for Blair?" He asked, uncertain as to how it possibly could be.

Serena paused, "Of course," she smiled humourlessly, "Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck…nothing's ever come between them for long."

Not even you, was what she left unsaid, but Dan heard it anyway.

-"We can't behave like people in novels, though, can we?"-

They ran into each other 'accidentally' at an exhibition celebrating the work of Jean Cocteau, and it was like the year of the W Magazine internship all over again.

She stood in front of a huge poster for La Belle Et La Bête, a black beret covering her hair, and said not a word as he came to stand beside her.

"Fancy seeing you here," he joked, making a show of checking that no one could overhear them.

"Humphrey," she said curtly, her mouth curling in a smile.

There was no one to report them now anyway. No Gossip Girl to announce their meeting to the world. And if Dan's fingers itched to send a blast telling all society that he, lonely boy, had just made Blair Waldorf smile again, he easily ignored it. Jeopardizing the tentative rekindling of their friendship was not something he would ever do.

"We watched this together, remember?" he prompted her, "You…"

"You preferred the Disney version," she rolled her eyes, "and you made me watch that…and…then you compared me to a peasant!"

He laughed, "No, I said Belle reminded me of you- big brown eyes, a mind of her own…not quite as bitchy or insane, but…"

"And then I compared you to Aladdin because…"

"Yes, I know… the whole 'street rat' thing." They grinned at each other, momentarily lost in memories of nights spent watching films on their laptops, their phones glued to their ears.

"I forgot how much fun I had," she smiled mischievously, "not being your friend."

"I didn't."

She bit her lip and he cleared his throat, an awkward silence falling between them.

"I missed you," she said moments later, in front of a glass case containing various production designs, "I've missed you."

It was so easy to take her hand without a thought and squeeze it. She allowed it for a second, almost two, and then drew hers back.

"They're playing Grand Hotel at the Film Forum in an hour," he showed her the face of his watch, "You wanna….?"

"I can't," she said quickly, apologetically. "I promised Serena I'd meet her at Lily's. There's some dinner…or something."

"Right," he nodded, realising that he too had been invited. "Then lets catch a cab."

She raised an eyebrow in disdain – and how he had missed that look – "Waldorfs don't catch cabs, Humphrey. They have drivers and cars, and stop smirking at me!"

"Lets get the subway," he teased.

She began to walk away, beckoning to him over her shoulder, "I hope you're joking," she called and he knew she was smiling.

…

The back of Blair's smallish, glossy, black limousine was not at all cramped and yet they had somehow ended up pressed together, side-by-side. She was wearing gloves, little lace ones that served no practical purpose but made her hands look tiny and delicate, like something out of an old Victorian painting. He picked one up and turned it over so that the palm was facing up.

She stared at him, her eyes like saucers.

"Dan," she began, but he shushed her. Bending down, he placed a kiss right in the heart of her palm and then, spurred on by the little gasp that she tried to hide, he pushed the material up and away and pressed his lips to her bare skin.

"Dan…"

"Blair," he pressed her palm to his forehead and her fingers twitched against the curls of his hair.

"Dan," she snatched her hand away, "we're here."

…..

The dinner was long and torturous and Dan spent most of it curling his hand around Serena's while attuned to every flutter of Blair's eyelashes, every slight rise and fall of her chest while she breathed and spoke and laughed, and every little secret smile that he knew was only for him.

It was like he was hurtling suddenly off a cliff and that night, as Serena climbed the stairs to their bedroom, turning off the lights as she went, he stared at her with resentment.

-"I want - I want somehow to get away with you into a world where words like that -categories like that- won't exist. Where we shall be simply two human beings who love each other, who are the whole of life to each other; and nothing else on earth will matter." -

She received him in the elegant seating area just off the foyer, where they had planned and plotted what seemed like a thousand years ago. He could almost see Nate, Serena, Chuck and even Georgina as they were, like ghosts, as long gone as the words he had once typed with religious fervour.

She was wearing a creamy lace summer dress that set off her alabaster skin. A long thread of pearls hung about her neck and she toyed with them as he paced.

"You think I should take him back, is that it?" she betrayed none of her own thoughts.

He was agonised, pulled apart at the seams. One part of him screamed 'Yes, take him back! You always have before!' while another whispered 'What's the use of thinking of other possibilities, you have Serena after all,' and another cried only 'No! No! NO!'

He dropped to his knees on the plush carpet, his hands on her knees until she clasped them with her own. When she bent her head he pressed his lips to hers and then laid his head on her lap like a benediction.

"Dan," she whispered into his hair, her voice small and lost, "I don't know what to do. You helped me find myself once, when I was so twisted by Chuck and Louis that I couldn't…you told me I was strong and beautiful and capable of anything. I want to be that again. Tell me to go back to Chuck, if you think that I should, but only if that is what you think. Not Serena, not Lily, not anyone else."

He opened his mouth, Serena's words ready to spill forth as instructed, but he couldn't. He didn't hate Chuck, but he hated Blair with Chuck and he had thought he could crush it, forget it, stamp it down and kill it but he couldn't because you can't kill a feeling.

"Before I came here I walked," he looked at the clock as it struck eleven. "I walked all night with one thought. The same paralyzing, all-consuming thought that led me to you before."

"What thought?"

"Blair – it was always us, don't you see? We've just been distracted by false happy endings. That's all. I don't want you to go back to Chuck; I don't want to go back to Serena." He didn't want to end up like Newland Archer, staring out at the sunset knowing he was trapped, that he would never have what he wanted.

"Humphrey what are you saying?"

"I'm saying there's still time. I'm saying lets run away together."

Blair laughed softly, wiping a tear away. She looked up, over Dan's shoulder and saw Dorota standing by the door. The maid gave her a watery smile and a thumbs up before darting discreetly away.

They had lost their minds. It was almost unbelievable to truly think of leaving Chuck, and yet she had the divorce papers, unsigned, hidden in the drawer of her desk. She would lose him forever, she might lose Henry too, and she would certainly lose Serena.

"I'll lose everything," she said.

"You'll still have me," Dan replied.

And she knew she would. She always would.

-FIN-