A/N's A long chapter; I hope you enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed your wonderful words of encouragement!
Blair awoke submerged in the downy depths of a king size bed. It took a moment to collect where she was; her bed at Hewitt's could never be this comfortable. She removed her sleeping mask to reveal the satisfyingly opulent interior of the suite and snuggled back into the mass of pillows, allowing her thoughts to hazily drift over the previous evening.
Serena's folly in coaxing Humphrey onto the dance floor at the club was at the forefront of her mind. Blair had tried to convince Serena of the uselessness of it, but the blonde girl was not to be dissuaded. Daniel's protestations had grown weak against her onslaught. "Serena, Blair's right, it's a bad idea." His eyes had searched fruitlessly around the room, patently searching for Nate or some other escape route.
Serena persisted. "How else will you learn if you don't try?"
"Why do I have to learn at all?" He looked more and more uncomfortable.
Blair couldn't help herself but interject again. "S, if he doesn't comprehend the social niceties of dancing, there really isn't any point. Go find another victim and leave Humphrey here to disagree with me about the adaptation of Wharton's dialogue."
"But, B, this a challenge made for me. I bet I can teach him to dance. I taught all the girls at my boarding school."
The raising of the stakes piqued Blair's interest. "I've danced with him, so I'll take that bet. Your ruby earrings against my silver fox."
Serena's merry laughter rang out. "You're on, you know how much I covet that fur!" She stood up and claimed Daniel's hand, tugging his protesting body up from his chair. He looked behind at Blair almost pleadingly. She compressed her lips and returned his gaze with a shake of her head.
Blair watched their antics on the floor with growing consternation. Serena smiled gracefully as she tried to guide Humphrey through the steps, but Blair noted her countenance becoming more and more fixed as the song dragged interminably on. Humphrey's face turned stony and she swore she could almost hear the sound of his teeth grinding together below the bass notes of the trombone. When he turned Serena straight into another couple and nearly knocked everyone off their feet, Blair had to turn away to try to distract herself from his embarrassment, unable to watch the grisly comedy any longer. Her irritation grew palpably when she noticed Chuck Bass standing behind her, evidently enjoying the spectacle immensely.
"Much more entertaining than theatre, wouldn't you say?" He raised his hand and signalled to a waiter before sliding into the seat beside her. "Miss Blair Waldorf, sitting here alone, with an empty glass? Your companions are most remiss."
"Mr Bass, I might have known you'd find me here."
"Your wish is my command. This is my home away from home, or should I say, my principal residence."
"So they make you up a trundle bed after the patrons have departed?"
"Something akin to that. I can show you if you'd like?"
Blair raised her brow at his forwardness. "No, I would not like."
Chuck quirked his eyebrow. "I saw you at the theatre with Daniel Humphrey, how does he deserve your favours and not I?"
"Charity, Bass. Something I doubt you stand in need of."
"I can think of many ways in which I need your charity."
Her eyes rolled at his presumption. "I sincerely doubt that."
He leaned forward and lowered his head to whisper in her ear. "You know, your mouth was made for me to kiss."
"In your dreams." She had tilted her head away, his hot breath on her neck making her feel uneasy.
Laughter came quickly to his lips and he sat back in his chair. "Oh, certainly in my dreams. But I'd prefer to make them a reality."
Her glare across the table did all it could to suppress his pretensions. "Please disabuse yourself of the idea of that ever happening."
The waiter loomed over the table, patiently waiting for their drink requests. Chuck's greeting was familiar. "Arnold, fix the lady a drink. Something to sweeten her up."
"I'll have a martini, Arnold. And Mr Bass here will have a scotch. Make it deep enough for him to drown himself in."
The waiter nodded and moved efficiently away. Serena and the hapless Daniel returned in his wake and dropped into their seats. Her face looked resigned and his was flushed pink.
Serena reached across the table to claim a cigarette. "Damn, did I miss the waiter? I'm desperate for a drink after that."
Blair narrowed her eyes with a smirk. "I'm sure he'll be back. So, the experiment failed? I warned you. I look forward to claiming my winnings"
Serena laughed across the table at her. "You were right on all accounts, B."
"Of course I was. Maybe you won't doubt my judgement next time. Humphrey, we really are going to have to do something about you."
Blair's train of thought came to a standstill at the sound of Serena's voice at her door. "B? Are you awake? You must come and feast your sore eyes on this." She swung her feet over the side of the bed and followed the sound of her friend's voice. She found her standing in her pyjamas in the warm golden light at the window overlooking Central Park. The table between them was spread with an array of breakfast victuals, appetisingly displayed.
Serena moved away from the window and took a seat. "I've missed real breakfasts! One can easily avoid the dining hall at Hewitt for any other meal but I dread having to make the choice between lumpy oatmeal or cereal that tastes like old cardboard."
"The minute I walk in there and smell the overcooked eggs, I lose my appetite completely." Blair ran her hands through her hair, smoothing the ruffled locks. Serena could always leap from bed looking radiantly dishevelled but Blair's hair was determined to kink.
Serena started lifting lids to examine the contents of the various dishes on the table. "Life will become far more tolerable if we can organise to do this every few weeks." She paused and spooned some of the dish she was holding directly into her mouth. "Although, it'll hard to bear going back there after this."
"S, I can't believe you can eat something like that."
"They're potted shrimps and they're ambrosia. You should try some, and this brioche…sheer heaven!"
Blair shuddered and helped herself to the fruit platter. It had been rare to find more than an apple on the menu at Hewitt Hall. It had to be on the top of the list of things she missed most. She had thought briefly about purchasing fruit directly from a vendor but how did one go about such a thing? It was probably just as well; the smell in their room, combined with the cloying scent of Serena's various fragrances, would make the atmosphere unendurable.
Serena stopped her perusal of the dishes before her, dropping her fork in the excitement of her recollection. "Blair, I can't believe I nearly forgot! Nate asked us to attend William Vanderbilt's New Year's house party on Long Island. At Eagles Nest, no less! You must come, Christmas is going to be deadly and we need some thrills before the next semester starts."
"I wish I could, S, but I'll be in Paris. I leave the day after exams, which means I arrive there just after Christmas." The speed at which one could travel across the Atlantic made Eleanor insist she return home for the vacation. At least her father's pie would make some of the time bearable.
Serena pouted. "That's too bad, B, I don't want to go to the party without you. You really should stay with me instead for the break. It's unthinkable that you have to spend Christmas alone in the middle of the ocean."
"Oh, I won't be alone, unfortunately, I'll be escorted by some mouldy distant relative that mother has dug up to accompany me. Spending most of my time aboard trying to give her the slip, no doubt."
xoxoxoxoxox
Dan's sleep had been fitful. His mind revisited, over and over again, his humiliation at the hands of the two vixens. When the dim light of the dawn peeped into his room, he finally vowed to himself to never place himself in such a situation again. The resolution allowed him to drift into some kind of sleep, though the morning cacophony of the residence cut it mournfully short.
His brief sleep had left him anything but rested, however the various deadlines pressing upon him forced him to leave his bed and dress for the day. He had had no chance to collect his mail the evening before, so he padded downstairs to check his pigeonhole. It contained the usual returned manuscripts and circulars but also several envelopes of the thinner kind. The type that could herald another magazine acceptance. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the Vanity Fair return address upon one of them.
Dan ripped the envelope open and scanned down the page, past the salutations, to the body of the letter.
We read your short story with pleasure and wish to include it in the January edition of our magazine. Please find enclosed our usual remuneration cheque.
And the best words of all.
We look forward to receiving more of your work in the future.
A smile spread across his face, widening into a grin, his fatigue vanishing. He had never dared before to send anything to Vanity Fair, thinking that he was stretching far beyond his literary reach. But when he had finished the short story that had begun writing the day he met Blair in the library, he had compulsively typed it up on the third-hand portable Remington he'd saved up for and sent it to their offices, before he could convince himself of the foolishness of the idea.
The other letter, although from not so illustrious a magazine, held similar words and an equally welcome cheque. The total of the sum of the slips was more than Dan had made in the previous months. It elated him to have so much cash at the ready. It would cover the costs of books for the next semester and allow for Christmas presents for his family with still some left over.
Dan walked back up the stairs clutching his mail to his chest. He placed them on his desk and sat down to peruse the rest of the papers. He looked down, observing the threadbare cuff of his second best suit, or first worst, as Blair would no doubt nominate it, and thought about the party Nate had invited him to. He had promised his friend he would attend with him, but until this moment he hadn't really considered the implications on his wardrobe. If he were going to go he'd need a new suit. As he pondered the matter further, the real breadth of the dress requirements dawned on him. Nate's tuxedo was all well and good for dark jazz clubs and speakeasies but this party would be white tie and tails at minimum.
Dan wandered next door to share his good news and discuss his wardrobe predicament with his sartorially blessed friend.
xoxoxoxoxox
Blair and Serena had finished their breakfast leisurely and then headed out to 5th Avenue on a shopping expedition. The hotel offered them a private car to return them to their college residence but Blair insisted on a cab in case anyone was watching for their return. They returned to Hewitt Hall laden with parcels, joyously discussing their purchases.
The first indication of the disaster to come was finding a tear stained Jessica and a sulky looking Penelope waiting in the foyer of their building with a smug Miss Abrams sitting between them. Miss Paxton stood before them all, her chin quivering with righteous indignation.
"Young ladies, we have been awaiting your return. I have been informed by a number of reliable sources that you attended the theatre yesterday evening in the company of two young men. Your failure to return here last night can only make me assume the very worst of your whereabouts."
Blair's chest swelled with wrath. "How dare you make such insinuations about us? If this establishment could actually fulfil it's duty and provide us with decent accommodation, then we wouldn't have felt the need to remove ourselves to a hotel. Please contact the Ritz-Carlton if you must, but they will support my every word."
"This is serious, Miss Waldorf, your families have entrusted us to take to care of you and for you to flagrantly flout our rules and to endanger our reputation is unacceptable."
"There is more, Miss Paxton." Vanessa stepped forward. "I discovered they have been bribing the porter Vanya, to perform favours for them. I insisted he wait to corroborate my story." She walked over to a door leading to the servant's quarters to reveal a nervous looking porter twisting his cap in his hands.
Miss Paxton looked piercingly at him. "Is it true what Miss Abrams is telling me, Vanya?"
His words came stutteringly. "M…Miss Paxton, I can explain, I only stored some extra luggage for them. I had the space, it was no trouble."
"There a strict regulations on storage at this facility, Vanya. I insist you show me immediately."
Vanya's face blanched. "That's completely unnecessary, Ma'am, it was only a trifle. Nothing to concern yourself with."
"Allow me to make up my own mind, thank you."
Vanya turned and proceeded up the stairs. The assortment of residents followed him, collecting more curious students as they walked up to the third floor. He led them to a door and withdrew a collection of keys from his pocket, fumbling to insert them into the lock under the frowning gaze of the housemistress.
It opened to show a collection of innocuous looking trunks. "You see, Ma'am, I only allowed them a little extra space"
"Open the trunks, Vanya."
"They just hold clothing, Ma'am."
"Do what I say, man, or I'll terminate your employment immediately!"
Vanya did as he was directed. As he had indicated, the open trunks held a motley collection of garments, the luscious silks and velvets catching the light from the open door. Miss Paxton knelt down to examine them in more detail. "Miss Waldorf and Miss Van Der Woodsen, I require you to rid these from the building immediately." She moved to the next trunk, lifting the layers of fabric. "Hewitt Hall does not make allowances for those who feel they…oh my…" Her voice stopped abruptly as she beheld the collection of liquor bottles that had been concealed by the clothing. "What in heavens name is this?"
A collective gasp echoed through the assembled onlookers. Miss Paxton lifted a corked bottle and unstoppered it to smell the contents. Her lips compressed as the aroma confirmed her suspicions. "Who is responsible?" She lowered the lid of the trunk and read the gilt lettering emblazoned upon it. "Miss Van Der Woodsen, please explain immediately."
"Miss Paxton… I…" Fear was evident on the beautiful blonde's face.
Blair stepped forward at once. "They are mine, Miss Paxton. Serena is completely innocent. I only placed them in her trunk, as there was no room in my own. Vanya had no knowledge of them either."
Miss Paxton stiffly drew herself up from the floor. "Miss Waldorf, this is a most serious breach. Not only have you jeopardised your own education, but you have threatened Serena's also. There is no doubt in my mind over who orchestrated this whole affair. Miss Waldorf, it pains me to say this." The look on her face spoke of anything but pain. "But you will be required to find alternative accommodation next semester if you intend to continue your study at Barnard College."
Blair looked momentarily aghast, but the fleeting expression was swiftly replaced with contempt. "Unnecessary, Miss Paxton. I will be removing myself immediately from the premises. It would be intolerable for me to remain for a moment longer. Thank you for prompting my exit, I was planning on making my own arrangements next semester but leaving now is far preferable."
Miss Paxton nodded. "I will be making a report to the College and your parents, I feel they would be remiss in allowing you to continue your education at Barnard, but unfortunately the decision is not mine to make. Miss Van Der Woodsen, I believe your innocence, so I will allow you to stay, but I recommend you cease all contact with Miss Waldorf immediately."
Serena's face had fallen into uncharacteristically serious lines. "Oh no, Miss Paxton, I'll be accompanying Miss Waldorf. If it weren't for her company, I would have found alternate accommodation long ago."
"Very well, if this is the case, I wash my hands of the both of you. I expect you to vacate the premises by the end of the day. You are lucky that I do not contact the police" She turned and glared at the spectators pressing around the door. "Please return to your rooms, ladies, and consider this a warning if any of the rest of you feel tempted to copy this appalling behaviour. Scatter, now!" The crowd immediately dissipated under her withering gaze. "Vanya, your last action as an employee of Barnard will be assisting these ladies with the removal of their luggage. We will not be providing you with a reference."
"But, Ma'am…" Vanya's usually amiable countenance grew distressed. "Without a reference, it will be impossible for me to gain further employment, please reconsider!"
"Well, you should have though about that before becoming involved in this affair. Please collect the bottles and accompany me to collect your remaining pay. Good day to you all." Miss Paxton turned her back and proceeded down the stairs, followed by the ashen-faced Vanya.
Blair waited until she was out of sight before turning to Vanessa, who had failed to depart with the rest of the interested crowd. "Well then, round three goes to Miss Abrams, who could believe it? Although, I confess, you've essentially done me a favour, I would have preferred to remove myself from here at my own pace."
Vanessa returned Blair's glare steadfastly. "I hope that Barnard follows Miss Paxton's recommendation and expels you from campus. Good riddance, I say."
"Well, whether I'm on campus or not, Abrams, you had better watch your back. This isn't over. Serena, let's get out of this misbegotten place." She turned away from the scowling brunette, leading the way back to their room.
She paused on the corridor a few doors before their room and knocked vigorously at a door. "Penelope and Jessica! I require your assistance immediately." The door opened, exposing the shamefaced pair.
Jessica face crumpled into tears. "We're so sorry, Blair…"
"I hold you equally to blame for this. How could you let it happen?"
Penelope looked resentful. "It was Vanessa. She heard us talking…she's always sneaking around the building, eavesdropping."
Jessica's sobs grew in volume. "But we should have been more careful! How can we make it up to you?"
"Well you can start by helping us pack. I'm sure I'll find more things for you, but this will do for now. Come to our room in 10 minutes, no more, no less. I need to talk to Serena." She slammed the door in their faces.
On the return to their room, Blair dropped the bed, the façade of nonchalant disdain falling from her. "How ugly that was. After such a delightful morning too!"
Serena sat down on the edge of the mattress beside her. "B, you shouldn't have taken the blame for the liquor. It was mine."
"She already hated me, S, there was no point to getting us both expelled from the Hall. It was silly of you to say that to her." Blair reached out her hand and took Serena's in her own. "But, you don't know how I appreciate it."
Serena smiled back at her and returned her grip. "What else could I do? I would never stay here without you. But," her voice halted, "I don't know what are we to do. My funds are a little low at the moment…I shouldn't have bought those shoes this morning!"
"I know, my allowance isn't due for a week and I abhor the thought of having to ask Eleanor to wire money, but I don't see any other option."
They sat in silence pondering their unfamiliar predicament.
Serena looked down at Blair, her smile reappearing. "B, I'll send a note to Chuck, I'm sure he'll allow us a suite at the Empire for a week or two, until we're back on our feet!"
"I think I'd prefer to camp in the library than be beholden to your step brother in any way."
"It won't be for long, Mother is bound to allow me to take an apartment. She'd prefer me not to disturb her tour of Europe."
Blair thought for a moment. "I'll have to telegram my Mother, she has an apartment on 5th Avenue and she just has to give me access to it. Maybe we'll only have to stay at the Empire for a night or two."
"That would be perfect, B. We just have to find a suitable chaperone and my mother won't give it a second thought."
"My mother will send Dorota. She refused before, but I'll give her no choice now." She stood up from the bed and sat at her desk, picking up her pen to compose the message.
Serena looked doubtful. "Your nursemaid? Lily will hardly find her a suitable companion."
"Write her you'll be living with the Countess Kishlovsky, I'm sure that will calm her trepidation. She's no Olenska, but she's a Polish countess nonetheless, even if she was my nursery maid."
Blair lowered her head to the blank page in front of her. There was no way of softening it, so she wrote the words in the bluntest manner possible.
Mother. Hewitt hall intolerable. Send Dorota immediately. Address all correspondence to the Empire Hotel. Will be unable to return to Paris and need immediate access to penthouse. And funds. I repeat. Send Dorota immediately! Blair
She knew the words would infuriate Eleanor, but her only hope was that she was so busy with her spring collection that she would be unable to do anything about it. She turned to her friend, "Are you sure Chuck will allow us a suite?"
"Of course, B, there's no question. He lives there himself and will be delighted to have our company."
"He lives there too?" Blair frowned at the knowledge. The door sounded and she opened it to allow Penelope and Jessica to enter. The uncertain expression vanished from her face, replaced by distant hauteur. "Please start folding the clothing hanging in the cupboards. Don't touch my underthings or my books, I'll pack them myself."
Vanya's depressed face appeared at their door behind the two girls, drawing a trolley loaded with trunks. "I've come to deliver these to you. I tell you, I never should have involved myself in this. You ladies have ruined my life."
Blair raised her brow at him. "That attitude won't get you far. We may just be your saviours, Vanya. Serena and I will require a footman if we are to set up in an apartment." Vanya's demeanour immediately brightened. "And the least we can do is to consider you for the post. Your first commission will be to telegraph this to my Mother." She folded her letter and placed it in an envelope, writing Eleanor's directions on the front.
"And once you have completed that," Serena added, "we require you to deliver this message to Mr Charles Bass at the Empire Hotel. Tell the concierge to deliver it directly to his hand and then wait for a response. Do not return without a reply." The man nodded and swiftly departed, closing the door behind him.
Serena returned to her desk and began to stow her jewellery into a small trunk. "You know, B, there's an upside to this. You can't return to Paris now so at least you can come to the Vanderbilt house party with me."
Blair smiled but didn't reply, busying herself with the task of packing her precious book collection, wondering at the indomitable optimism of her friend.
xoxoxoxoxox
Dan's visit to the tailor had been more successful than he'd hoped. Nate had insisted on accompanying him to steer him toward the more reputable establishments. His presence had been a lucky charm, the tailor behaving almost obsequiously in his company. He had been persuaded into commissioning a tailcoat and dress trousers but refused the cream flannel suit on the grounds of its expense. A word in the tailor's ear by his friend prompted the man to explain that by ordering two suits, the price of the second was always heavily discounted.
He'd visited Brooks Brothers, after being measured by the tailor and sent on his way, picking out a selection of new shirts and the requisite small clothes. He hesitated between a new overcoat and new shoes. Both could be justified, in fact were probably necessary with winter fast approaching, but he had begun to feel a little guilty squandering all his funds. The coat won in the end, his current over garment looking almost disreputable in its well-worn state.
Dan was left with less money than he'd hoped but still enough to buy his sister a Christmas present. Although the sight of him in his evening dress would thrill her enough if she ever got the chance to see him in it. He coaxed Nate into the nearest haberdasher and, with much assistance from the shop assistant, selected a length of silk to gift to Jenny. She would be in raptures over the fabric, her deft fingers itching to craft a new frock with it.
He had been requested by the tailor to return in a week's time for a fitting and had just returned from it to his residence, pleased with how his new garments were coming along. The doorman stopped him on his way in, pressing a note into his hand.
Meet me on the library steps at 2pm. We have to study.
The note was unsigned but he recognised Blair's handwriting. It surprised him. They had studied together on one occasion before, but it had been purely circumstantial. The library had been jam packed in the lead up to exams and Blair had been unable to find a spare desk so she had coerced him into sharing his own. It had been the most unproductive study he had ever conducted, the smell of her hair and her quick-witted observations making it impossible to concentrate on his own work. He learnt two things in the afternoon. The knowledge she was going to the Vanderbilt House party pleased him deeply. The other fact did little to gratify him. She had removed herself from Hewitt Hall under acrimonious circumstances and was currently residing at the Empire Hotel. It had shaken him when Nate informed him that Chuck Bass lived there also and he'd been resisting the urge ever since to go and check to make sure she was comfortable there.
Dan checked the clock and found he would just have time to tidy himself and collect his books before meeting her.
She stood on the steps in the wintry sunlight, tapping her foot. "Humphrey, you're late."
"No, I'm not. Where are your books?"
"You are late. We're going off campus to study." She began to walk down the steps toward him.
Dan blinked. "But the public library is miles away."
"We're not going to the library."
"But…"
She pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Enough, you'll be learning and that's all you need to know for the moment. Just appreciate the fact that I'm willing to be seen off campus with you in that…" She looked him up and down. "I don't know what to call it."
He fell in step beside her, wishing that his overcoat had been ready for him to pick up so they didn't appear so socially at odds with each other. She was impeccably dressed as always. Her face nestled into her fur collar and her neat ankles were shown off to admiration in her jaunty red leather shoes.
They found themselves walking down Broadway, Dan watched Blair checking every street sign. "Waldorf, where are you taking me?"
"To study, Humphrey, just a different sort." She looked at the scrap of paper in her hand again and turned down a street to their left. "Here it is."
Dan looked up to the sign in front of him. "A dance studio? Waldorf…"
"Humphrey, you are a shambling fool when it comes to the dance floor. If you think you can go to a Vanderbilt house party and just sit and nurse your drink, you're mistaken. You're not Chuck Bass. You can't go to a house party and not at least be capable of taking your hostess for a turn around the floor."
Dan looked hurt. "Well, I won't go, if that's how you feel."
"That won't do. Don't be such a sap, Humphrey." She spoke briefly to the highly made up young woman at the counter of the studio, who directed them to a door on the right. Dan followed Blair toward it, finding an open room with a bare wooden floor and a gramophone. The walls were adorned with large mirrors but other than that it was empty. She removed her coat and hat and hung them on a coat hook by the door. Dan followed suit.
"I've booked this for the next hour. We have to sort out this left footed inability of yours. You'll never get a girl to kiss you if you can't dance with her first." Dan rolled his eyes and tried to demur once more. "Daniel, you have no choice. It's my Christmas present to you, if you like." She turned to the gramophone and put on the record she had selected. "We'll start with the Charleston. Come here."
He walked over to her and stood stiffly before her. "Now you're meant to lead, but I'm going to have to show you what that means." She moved to stand beside him. "We'll do the feet first. Step forward and bring your other foot in line…that's right…and now back…and again." She smiled, "See, not so hard. Now loosen up and bend your knees." Her delicious laughter pealed. "Not like that! You look like a scarecrow. Like this."
Dan watched as Blair bent her knees and her limbs started flying back and forth. "Slower, Waldorf, you go too fast."
She gave him a smirk. "Of course I'm too fast for you, that's a given. Just give it a try."
He shook his head but bent his knees and attempted to follow her movements. He felt like a fool.
"You're getting there. Now watch…see how I bend my legs. Watch them, Humphrey!" Dan felt a blush creep up his face as he watched her skirt flick up above her knees. "OK, now step to the side…like this…" He felt his long legs tripping him up at the seemingly impossible movements. "Try again, you're nearly there." She stood and watched him appraisingly. "…That's it. Now do it again." Dan lowered his brow at her imperious tone. "And don't sulk, it doesn't suit you."
The tune changed and Dan began to feel a little more comfortable with the steps. Blair watched him go through his paces, giving him tips on his movements. "Move your arms. You're not doing a jig." Amusement was clear on her features.
She finally decided he was ready to try it with a partner. "Loosen up." She took his shoulders and gave him a shake. "Now, one hand goes here." She moved his arm so it rested on her shoulder blade. "And the other holds mine, like so." She moved her free hand up to his shoulder.
"Blair, I have danced once or twice before."
She smiled up into his face and Dan felt his heart skip a beat. "Well, you wouldn't know it to look at you." She laughed. "I can't believe you're blushing. You are so Victorian."
She withdrew from him to restart the record then slipped back into his arms. "Now, try and do it again." She raised her brows. "And I'll try to avoid being stepped on."
He looked down at his feet, as they started moving. "Don't look at your feet! My eyes, Humphrey." He lifted his head and stepped forward, straight onto her shoe.
"My feet are going to be black and blue, I just know it."
Dan dropped his arms. "This music is too fast, I can't keep up with you."
Blair sighed. "Let's try it without the music first then." She flicked the gramophone off and turned back to him, holding up her arms. "Count to eight…and yes…you can look at your feet if you must."
He looked down, watching their feet moving slowly together, trying to copy the graceful turn of her leg. His lips moved as he counted in his head.
"That's it! Now to the side…step through...I knew you could do it!"
He finally felt brave enough to look up and found her gleefully grinning at him. He helplessly returned her smile.
"Now, music!"
She turned the record back on and stepped back into the circle of his arms. He looked down at their feet again as their pace sped up and was amazed to see their feet moving smoothly together, mirroring each other.
"You're getting it! Isn't this fun?"
"It is." He promptly stood on her foot again.
She rolled her eyes in a longsuffering manner. "Do I have to teach you how to talk and dance at the same time?"
"Give me a chance, Waldorf, we didn't all come out of the womb, talking and dancing non-stop like someone I know."
"Practice, Humphrey, practice is all it takes."
Dan said nothing but pulled her closer to his chest, so he couldn't see her taunting face.
They moved fluidly around the room together as the music continued. The song finished and another, faster this time, took its place. He felt her rest her head briefly on his shoulder and then she pulled away from him, her movements becoming faster and more open.
Dan tried to follow, but his feet faltered. He stopped and watched her, her arms and legs graceful in the frenetic movement. She began to giggle and he felt a foolish smile grow on his lips.
"Just try it. No one else but me can see you."
He gave himself a vigorous shake and picked up the steps again, his laughter joining hers. "I swear, Waldorf, you're doing this just to make me look stupid."
She twinkled at him. "Maybe, but you take yourself so seriously, someone has to laugh at you sometime. A little taste of humiliation does you the world of good."
She moved back into his arms, returning to the simpler steps he could follow. "And at least you won't look so stupid next time a girl asks you to dance."
They continued and Dan became more and more comfortable holding her in his arms. She pulled away from him when the song ended, her cheeks pink from the exertion.
"Now try to practice every chance you get. I have to go but feel free to give it a try without me."
"Dancing on my own?"
"You'd be surprised at how much fun it can be." She gathered her coat and turned to a mirror to smooth her hair and position her hat. She looked critically at her reflection and pulled out her compact to powder her nose. Finally satisfied with her appearance, she moved to the door. "Next time we'll do the foxtrot. I can't have you being a one trick pony, Humphrey."
Dan stood still as she closed the door behind her and turned to the gramophone, restarting the record from the beginning. He counted through the steps once more, thinking how ridiculous he looked in the mirror. He persisted nonetheless; he could close his eyes and almost imagine he was still dancing with her.
