Let me do a quick count. Based on reviews for the first part, there are 2 vocally for Chuck/Blair and 2 for Dan/Blair. A tie.. Hmmm.

Part 2

Dan did not realize how intimidated he was of his newfound Muse until he saw her march down the steps towards him. She made him think of an Amazon princess really, which was odd since Serena never gave him that vibe. But Serena always floated down those steps to him, or she flew right down and launched herself into his arms. Blair Waldorf though, strode regally and as confidently as any member of royalty. Maybe that was why he never thought it odd that she could have been duchess to Marcus Beaton—before he upped and screwed Nate's May-December affair partner.

'He met Gracie once as she sat pouring through the classifieds,' his brain teased. Dan fisted his hand to fight the itch to reach for a pen and write down the sentence.

Blair stopped two steps above him, and Dan had no doubt it was calculated beforehand so that he would be forced to look up, just a little, and she could stare down at him and keep the distance. "What do you want?" she demanded.

'"What do you want?"' he heard his character say in his brain as well.

Dan leaned forward, intrigued. Here was his Grace, and she was doing and saying everything to such accuracy that he doubted he even needed to distort reality enough to seem like real art. The way Blair looked down at him, Dan wondered if she looked at Chuck the same way when she was pissed off.

'Gracie crossed legs under her as she sat on the shag carpet that probably cost more than his tuition.' Dan stifled a smile. In the presence of Blair Waldorf, a story was being written for him, and he did not even need to wrack his brain. '"Are you looking for a job, Gracie?" She rolled her eyes and raised her eyebrows, as if the silent words made a difference to his comprehension. Silly enough, they did. It was almost as if they had some sort of connection, and they were the only ones who could understand the language. "Anything wrong with that?" was her challenge. He shook his head. "It's just that you don't need a job." He looked around her surroundings, from the plush bedspread and the gleaming hardwood furniture. Grace shrugged. "Maybe this is how I keep my life interesting," she answered.'

"Hello, earth to Humphrey!" Blair snapped her fingers in front of his face. "This is time I'll never get back. So spill."

He may not have wanted to anger her, but with this attitude, he wondered. Dan just had to ask, "If you're in such a hurry, why did you bother showing up?"

Her lips curved, and Dan's attention turned to the gleaming fullness. Grace would have lips like those. It would be a sin to use thinner, less shiny ones. A bit embarrassed, but knowing he had to do it for his sanity, to keep the ball rolling later tonight when he's alone in front of his computer, Dan took his phone out and smiled sheepishly at Blair. He aimed the lens at her. "May I?"

And Dan knew, by the way she stifled a smile, that she had been disarmed. "Knock yourself out," she said by way of agreement. He snapped the photograph, then checked it. He zoomed to her lips and was satisfied. "I showed up because I thought you wanted to tell me something about Serena?"

Dan shook his head. "No. I wanted to see if you'd like to hang out."

Blair's expression did not change. She stared back at him with the same blankness she had used when she asked about her purpose. When he had told her what she needed, Blair cleared her throat and hooked her bag tighter to her side. "That is insulting."

She stormed part him and out the gates. Dan Humphrey whirled around, then jogged after her. For a short girl, she sure did walk fast. "Wha—Wait—What?" He called out, "Wait, Blair! Your friends are with Serena, what other plans do you have tonight?"

She stopped. For about ten seconds, there was no movement. Dan held his breath. And then slowly, with no perceptible effort on her part, she was turning to face him. "You have some nerve, Humphrey." She showed him the eyes that he was now familiar with, those cold ones that seemed like she wanted to freeze him with one look.

"Hey, Blair, I'm sorry, okay?" he pleaded. "I didn't mean it like that."

But she did not stop walking away. He was about to make one more effort, but the image of Blair Waldorf rushing to the opposite direction, stepping over the littered red leaves on the ground, was enough to make him reach for his notepad and start scribbling. 'It was a cold fall day when Gracie left me, driving away in a shiny new car through the dirt roads, leaving behind a trail of dust that climbed up my nostrils and filled my lungs with the knowledge that she had abandoned me—for college, for a real life, for a new man. Gracie set herself a blazing path towards a future I could never afford.'

"What are you doing, Humphrey?"

Dan sighed. No one could mistake the cool, always threatening voice of Chuck Bass. He turned around slowly to face him. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Chuck's eyes flickered to the notebook in Dan's hand, then back up to look him in the eye. "I'm disappointed in you. I thought you liked your life."

Dan clenched his jaw. "What I choose to write isn't any of your business."

"It is when you're writing about my life."

"This isn't about Charlie Trout," Dan spat out. "I told you I wouldn't be writing about your secret." When Chuck looked unconvinced, Dan raised the notebook and showed him his scribbled sentences about Gracie. "This is about a girl, not about you."

Chuck reached for the notebook despite Dan's protests. He flipped the page, and read, "In his dreams she was a princess. His eternal puzzle was why Gracie had such sad eyes for a princess. When he watched her from afar, reading her books, his gaze focused on her fingers. When she turned the page, he looked. Gracie had such sad fingers." Chuck stopped, then snarled, "This is my business."

"What?" Dan exclaimed, not understanding how Chuck could relate the description to himself.

"I told you not to write about Blair." Without looking away from Dan, Chuck ripped out the pages of notes that Dan had collected over the day. Dan watched in horror as Chuck tore the paper to shreds, then let them fall to the ground. He wanted to cry, but that wasn't something men did. Dan watched in horror as Chuck stepped over the torn paper, past him, then to his limo. The vehicle drove away.

"Welcome back, Charlie Trout," he whispered as the vehicle vanished when it turned the curb. He typed into his phone, 'interested in a serialized novella?'

'This is a gossip blog. What's the catch? If there's none, take it elsewhere.'

'Oh u'l love this. I'l give u the scoop as close to the circle as u can get.'

'Show me the first part. Let's test it out how many hits u'l get.'

'I'l email u tonyt. It's called Charlie and Gracie. U'l love it.'

"If Charlie Trout wants to play, then we'll play," he whispered. One more thing he learned from his mentor, which Dan had never felt was necessary before, was that a good writer was ruthless. He found Blair's number and called, "Blair, look, I'm really sorry I was an asshole today. I want to make it up to you." A pause. "Really? Well, I just happen to have the newest Yale reviewer, freshly delivered by courier from my cousin. And maybe we can look through some essay ideas? I could really use your help." He smiled. "Sounds perfect. I'll see you then."

tbc