A/N's I hope you're all ok with scene setting for a while. I found this chapter incredibly challenging to write. I hope my struggles aren't too obvious! Thanks for the reviews and alerts.

A familiar head appeared around Dan's door. "Dan! Put that book down and put some decent clothes on. It's Saturday night and you're coming out with me to meet some dames."

Nate had made Dan's room his second home. He never knocked after the first visit, barging in at any time of day or night. Sometimes for help with study but more often he just distracted Dan from his. Dan had taken to leaving the door wide open, for Nate's convenience, unless he was asleep.

"I would, my friend, but I have no eveningwear."

Nate laughed incredulously. "What do you mean? That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard."

"I seriously have one other suit, other than this, so laugh it up. And neither is remotely suitable to go on the town, with you. I'll look like some street urchin you're sponsoring. Unless that's the look you're going for?"

"Come on, live a little. If you're so deprived of clothes, you can wear something of mine."

Dan looked down at his notebook. He was reluctant to leave the article he was working on. The only way he could boost his income was by freelancing stories and articles and he'd managed to get precious little done in that department in the weeks since he met Nate. A night on the town would dent the little he had left in the bank. What Dan wore meant little to him, but it meant much more to be able to hold his own financially and not be a burden to his family.

He shook his head. "I really don't think that'll work."

"I don't know, we're about the same height and what's a pound or two between friends? Or a dollar for that matter? Dan, I know money may be tight for you but this is my treat. I would be failing most of my classes if you didn't coerce me into a little work. So now I'm coercing you into a little play."

Dan was taken aback, for all Nate's careless manner and uncomplicated charm, he could be remarkably perceptive at times. "I don't want to be a sponge."

"I won't take no for an answer. So, you can either sit here and have me badger you all night, or you can come out and let me badger you all night. Until I find someone better looking to harass." Nate raised his expressive eyebrows as he offered his ultimatum.

Dan placed his hands flat on his desk and groaned. "All right, Nathaniel! But only to stop you trying to use your persuasive charms on me any longer. There are people…women…out there far more deserving of them."

"I knew you'd come round to my way of thinking."

Nate's room was more than twice the size of Dan's and littered with masculine garb. The second bed doubled as a catchall for anything that didn't find itself on the floor and both desks were covered in bottles and paraphernalia that seemed to have little to do with study. "No wonder you're in my damn room all the time. I don't know how you can move in here."

"See, you'd be doing me a favour if you'd take something. I don't even wear half of this. Fix us a drink while I play fairy godmother, will you?"

Both Nate's open closets were filled with garments. Many looked unworn and Nate searched until he found a black tuxedo with a matching waistcoat. He laid them on the spare bed and then opened a drawer to extract one of a number of crisply starched white shirts and a black bowtie.

"This will do nicely, I've never worn it and am now very unlikely to, ever."

Dan handed him a whisky and soda. "Nate…I can't take your clothes."

"You can do, very easily. I consider this yours now and I plan on you having many opportunities to wear it."

Dan shook his head into his drink. "You don't give up, do you?"

"No, and really it's you who are doing me the favour, because I'm not going to go drinking and picking up girls with any of the other meatheads in this building. Besides, I have a paper due on Tuesday and I'm counting on you helping me write it."

They finished their drinks and then Dan retreated to his room to change. He ran his hands over the satin lapel of the tuxedo. The pants were a little long but, for the rest, he had never worn anything so superbly tailored in his life. He'd polished his shoes and slicked back his curls and, by the little he could see of himself in the small shaving mirror in his room, he thought he might just carry the whole thing off. He topped the lot with his own overcoat and hat, which kind of ruined the illusion.

He met Nate at his door. Dan's self-admiration faded as he took in his friend's garb. He was a vision of sartorial elegance, from the mirror like sheen of his black shoes, to his satin opera hat.

Dan whistled. "Are you sure you need a sidekick? I might just cramp your style."

"Pincer attack, Daniel. I'll blind them with my shoes while you dazzle them with words. They won't know what hit them."

Dan chuckled back at him. "Well, then, I'll just grab my dictionary."

The bar Nate took him to, was deep in Harlem. Dan left his offending hat and coat at the cloakroom, feeling comfortable for the first time in such decadent surroundings. He hadn't been to the Cotton Club before, but the atmosphere and music was as extravagant as it's reputation promised.

Despite the mass of people, the waiter familiarly led Nate to a small round table. They took a seat, taking in the crowded dance room. Dan found his attention immediately commanded by two girls on the dance floor. They were perfection itself. Ivory limbs entwined with golden, no look but for the other. One, dark curls, red velvet and eyes, the other all sunny smiles and white silk. The contrast could blind you. The dark girl he recognised, her face looked so different to the scowl he remembered, exhilaration lighting her countenance so she sparkled with vivacity.

Dan groped in his pocket for his notebook, words flashing through his mind to depict their attractions. He felt bereft when he found he had neglected to bring it. A nudge in his ribs made him turn to Nate, who passed him a heavy tumbler filled with dark liquor. He grinned across at Dan. "They are something, aren't they? It seems not all Barnard girls look like yesterdays dinner."

Dan took a sip of his drink and focussed back on the girls dancing together. He wasn't alone; nearly every eye in the room followed their movements. "Barnard girls, you say? I thought they were all born wearing tweed."

"I thought so too." Nate laughed. "Manage to get their clothes off and there's just another layer of tweed beneath it. I'm glad I'm mistaken…it's…promising." He stood and buttoned his jacket. "I'm going to ask them to come and have a drink with us. Dibs on the blonde doll."

Dan sighed. "That might not be the best idea, Nate. I actually met the dark haired one on orientation day and the only impression I made was on her shoe."

Nate's eye's twinkled. "Take it from me, Humphrey. A bad impression is better than no impression."

xoxoxoxoxox

Blair adored dancing with Serena, and it was clear the feeling was mutual. No man could keep up with them. They took turns leading, switching seamlessly together, rapt in the joyous movement and freedom of one another. It was beyond fun. Almost more than giggling at the provocative or, alternately, scandalised looks it gained them. And it was safe; Blair hated being mauled. Serena had the talent to keep men at arms length, if she wanted, artlessly declining their advances with a smile, never offending. Blair watched her but couldn't learn to do the same. Unwanted interest generally resulted in some luckless individual having fire and brimstone rain down upon him. Blair had more than once found herself alone on the dance floor or stranded at the bar, while Serena navigated the same perils with ease.

Like now. The handsome, blue-eyed man who had sidled up to them at the bar was under her spell already. But it wasn't one of the times Serena felt she had to keep her distance. "B? Let's go have some champagne with this fine gentleman," she turned and winked at the man, "and his lonely friend over there."

Blair looked across to where she gestured, a dark haired man sat at a table, head hunched over his drink. She wasn't in the mood for making small talk. "Ugh, I hate bad posture."

Her friend's laughter rippled through the air. "Oh, I'm sure he'll sit up straight for you, if you smile at him nicely." Serena didn't wait for her answer but turned and followed the admirably, Blair had to confess, tailored back of the blonde gentleman.

"Daniel, these kind ladies are going to join us." The dark haired man he remained seated. Their host gestured to the waiter. "Champagne, good man. Only the finest for our company." The words rolled off his tongue unpretentiously, despite the imperious tones. He turned back toward them, an appealing smile gracing his features. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Nathaniel Archibald." Blair raised her eyebrows; so this was the man who was the heir to the Vanderbilt fortune, she hadn't expected to be so handsome. "And my friend, Daniel Humphrey."

Serena tilted her head, smiling, and gestured toward Blair. "This is Miss Waldorf and I'm Miss Van Der Woodsen, but please, call me Serena."

Blair looked more closely Nathaniel's companion, Daniel Humphrey. She found him handsome, in a somewhat unruly way, and vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place his face. She watched the other man pull a chair out for Serena, so she could be seated and waited for the same to be done for her. Daniel just smiled fatuously her. She looked pointedly at the chair, but he failed to take the hint.

"Chivalry is dead, it appears" Blair pulled out her chair and sat down, unassisted.

The dark haired man, or boy, now she had seen him at close quarters, looked baffled. "Huh?"

"My chair?"

He had the audacity to laugh. "Sorry, I grew up on a steady diet of Emily Pankhurst. I've had the inclination beaten out of me."

Blair raised her brow. "My, my, so unconventional."

He ran his hand through his hair, disrupting his curls. "Not really, my mother had me painting banners for her rallies at five years old."

The image of an earnest brown haired boy, painting suffragette slogans, impressed itself upon her mind. She couldn't help but allow herself to laugh. "Allow me to thank you then, for your efforts towards women's rights. And our emancipation from common courtesy."

He looked a little discomfited but smiled ruefully at her mirth. "I didn't mean to be rude, but you look more than capable of managing a chair by yourself. Noted, however."

They sat in silence as Serena and Nathaniel carried on an animated conversation. The waiter reappeared and presented a bottle to the gentleman. Pol Roger, Blair observed with approval.

Serena turned to her. "B, Nate and I are going to dance. Mr Humphrey here will look after you, I'm sure." Serena's dazzling smile took in both of them as she allowed Nathaniel to lead her to the dance floor. Duke Ellington's orchestra swept them up into a Charleston and Blair noted Serena's partner was almost as light on his feet as she was.

She turned back to her companion. "So, Mr Humphrey, are you going to ask me to dance?"

He stammered back at her. "Uh…I…I wasn't planning to. I don't dance."

"You don't dance? Or you won't dance with me?"

"With anyone. Period. Can't you just sit here with me and enjoy the band, without letting me ruin it for you?"

She blinked at him, disbelief oozing from every pore. ""How irregular. If you don't dance, what do you have to offer?"

"Conversation, I hope?"

"You hope in vain. I didn't come here to talk about suffragettes, I find them a little redundant."

She watched him take a breath. "I'm sure you never had any need of them. You're at Barnard, yes? What are you studying?"

The words startled her; men just usually tried to flirt, if they wanted to talk at all. "How do you know that?"

"I'm at Columbia."

Blair rolled her eyes. "Is this all the conversation you have?" She drained her glass and held it toward him. "If we're going to talk school, I need more mental lubrication."

Dan raised his dark brows at her. "Helpless, aren't we?" He took the champagne from the ice bucket and topped her glass up, before filling his own.

"How little you know. I'm just waiting for my dues." Blair turned back to the dance floor, watching Serena smile ingenuously up at her partner. Her friend had definitely been dealt the better hand. "Come on, you have to dance."

"You don't know what you're asking me."

She stood up and held her hand out. "How hard can it be?" He reluctantly took her hand, allowing her to lead him to the dance floor, looking apprehensive.

It was very hard, she realised. He was all limbs and no grace, looking down at his feet and, she swore, she could hear him counting under his breath. Blair cleared her throat and Dan guiltily raised his head.

"I told you, I don't dance."

"Can't dance, more like. You are appalling."

"I warned you."

"Not strenuously enough, I feel."

He took a step forward straight onto her toe. Blair immediately dropped his hand and let go of his shoulder. She looked up at his face, recognition dawning on her. "Oh! I remember you now. You're the man with the vendetta against shoes."

He looked bashful. "I was wondering if you'd remember that."

"Oh, it's coming back to me all too clearly."

Whatever charm she had found in him to begin with was gone. Blair felt she could almost weep at the mortification of dancing with him. What kind of figure must she be cutting with this buffoon? She looked up at him with frustration, vicious words brewing on her lips. Before she could speak her mind, however, she saw a hand reach up to tap her companion on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, may I cut in? This lady needs someone light on his feet." Blair watched the tips of Dan's ears turn red at the subtle jibe, but he withdrew from her nevertheless, allowing the unknown man take his place. She looked up at her new partner. The man's cat like eyes gazed intently at her, piercing through the dim light of the club.

"That was criminal, I couldn't watch the prettiest girl in the room being subjected to such mishandling."

"And you're the white knight, coming to my rescue?"

"If it pleases my lady."

He swept her around in his arms, their feet moving together with ease. She glanced across at Dan, hunched back over his drink. When he raised his head and looked back at her she turned back to her new partner and smiled widely. "Oh, pleased isn't the word."

"So what's a girl like you doing with a fellow like him?"

"I had little choice in the matter. My friend over there," Blair gestured over to Serena, still in Nate's arms, "has a lot to answer for."

He followed her gesture and raised his eyebrow. "Well, well, well…how very interesting." Blair didn't reply, the noise of the band and the speed in which he whipped her across the floor made it difficult to speak. She allowed herself settle in to his arms and enjoy his obvious proficiency on the dance floor.

The song came to an end and Blair watched Serena follow Nate back to their table, and it's lone occupant.

Her partner smiled at her suavely. "Another?"

She shook her head. "Thanks for the rescue, but no, I'll rejoin my friend."

"The pleasure was all mine. Allow me to escort you?" Blair took his arm, pleased by his attitude. He walked her over to her table and took her hand, pressing it to his lips.

Serena looked up at them, her eyes widening. "Chuck!" She pouted, "I see you've already ingratiated yourself with my B. Why am I not surprised?"

"You know me too well, sweet sister. How could I resist the loveliest lady here? So, this is the divine Miss Waldorf. I should have known she'd be a foil for all your glories, Serena." He pulled Blair's chair out for her, and she sat down, shooting Dan a smug look.

Serena gracefully rose from her chair to peck Chuck on the cheek. "B, meet Chuck…Charles Bass, my step brother, who, I must add, promised to be here hours ago. What took you so long?"

"I apologise, Serena. I didn't know my absence would cause you, and your fair friend, so much distress." Chuck looked pointedly across at the two men accompanying the girls.

"Chuck, this is Nathaniel…Nate…Archibald." Serena smiled conspiratorially at Nate. "And his friend, Daniel Humphrey. They're at Columbia."

"How convenient for them." Chuck snapped his fingers at the waiter, who immediately bought another chair over for him. "Scotch on the rocks, Wency. And I'm thirsty, make it deep."

"Yes, Mr Bass."

Blair found satisfaction in Serena's brother's casual graces. He was clearly a far more fitting companion for her own charms. She smirked across at Dan, hoping he'd realise his own shortcomings but, to her displeasure, he wasn't looking at her at all. Instead, he was gazing at Serena, admiration clear on his features as he engaged her conversation.

She lit a cigarette and turned back to Chuck. "So, Mr Bass, I'm disappointed at how little Serena has told me about you. Here's your chance to remedy the situation, I'm all ears."

Chuck's rakish grin spread across his face. "Oh, you're much more than that, my dear."

xoxoxoxoxox

The door handled turned silently and the two girls slipped through into the dark foyer of Hewitt Hall. Blair giggled as she dropped the key and had to kneel down and grope around on the floor to find it.

"Shh, B, we can't get caught. You know what hatchet face said last time."

"S, don't worry. Remember who we are, that old hag can't touch us."

"Miss Waldorf and Miss Van Der Woodsen!" The whispers and giggles abruptly ceased. "Do you know the time? Curfew was two hours ago."

"We're sorry, Miss Paxton, we were unavoidably detained."

"I know exactly what you've been up to. I can smell the liquor from here. I should call the police! You know the rules."

Blair looked at her disdainfully. "If you can smell anything, it would be from the bottle of whisky I know you keep in your sewing basket. How many other places do you hide it?"

The older lady's face blanched. "Miss Waldorf, how dare you!"

Blair smiled at her, saccharine sweet. "I think you should be letting us get to bed now, Miss Paxton. Serena and I both have class tomorrow."

Blair sauntered past the older lady, not waiting for an answer and Serena dropped her eyes and swiftly followed. She waited until they were safely in their room before she spoke. "Blair, you've just made us an enemy."

Blair rolled her eyes, dropping her shawl and bag onto her bed. "Plenty more where she came from."