couples: Dan/Blair , Chuck/Serena , some mentions of Nate/Jenny
summary: It was raining that night; the night everything changed and Dan became the knight in Serena's twisted game of chess.
author's note: I've been getting a lot of complaints about Chuck/Serena. Please lay off it. Continue to read, if you will, but if every review contains the idea that you hate the C/S storyline, you might as well keep it to yourself. I'm aware of what's going on. Thank you.
All this feels strange and untrue.
And I won't waste a minute without you.
My bones ache, my skin feels cold,
and I'm getting so tired and so old.
open your eyes
snow patrol
The day that Chuck packed his suitcases, amending hastily to Dan that he had a business trip, Serena had already informed Dan of his actual whereabouts. And, although he knew that he shouldn't be surprised in the least, Dan had shaken his head with wonderment. The complicated dynamic of the Upper East Sider's lives would never truly capture his understanding.
As it was, it didn't help that Naomi was hardly speaking to Dan. It had been a week ago that she'd noticed his distracted way of speaking; she even called him out on it. "What's up with you?"
Dan had to lie, of course. "I've just been very, ah, busy, you know," he'd managed to stammer out, relieved to realize it wasn't that much of a lie. In between keeping Blair busy and trying to figure out Serena's plan, he hadn't barely any time for himself.
Naomi had murmured back a reply, but Dan was well aware she didn't completely believe him, and it hadn't shocked him when she didn't call for days afterwards.
Despite the marital troubles brewing, Dan found himself content, which was new for him. He didn't need to worry about money; he didn't need to worry about much of anything, really. With Blair's company, he was strangely without a care.
"With Chuck all weekend. You should know by now." With that, Serena's text ended ominously, and Dan still was left staring with a frown at his phone. He'd grown an affinity to hating the whole distract Blair strategy. Distracting Blair became his daily routine, not much of a task at all.
Dan still didn't entirely understand his purpose at the Bass penthouse. He knew, more than he was sure of anything, that Serena had a hideously devious plan prepared for his destruction of the marriage. He wondered if he'd read a book on this before; it made so much sense, after all, that everything was working so coldly, manipulatively, when it seemed to be a hasty plan at first.
Before Dan could shake away the thoughts and force himself to grace Blair's presence, the door cracked just a bit and he was surprised to see she'd come to him first. Often times, Dan was always the one to initiate; it was rather how they worked.
Yet, Blair stood before him, an embarrassed flush in her cheeks, though with her chin lifted high and proud. There was a gleam of amusement and guarded curiosity in her hazel eyes as she regarded him. "Humphrey," she greeted with a slight half-smile. "Come here. I want to show you something." With the brisk words, Blair turned on her heel, seemingly indifferent if he followed or not.
Bewildered, Dan trailed after Blair. She was leading him to the couch, where her laptop was neatly placed, a blank Word document opened. Patting the spot next to her, Blair settled the laptop on her crossed legs, motioning for him to take a look.
Dan realized that Blair was going to show him what she'd been writing all these nights. Apprehensive, yet anticipating, Dan sat down and craned his neck towards the laptop. At first, he was unable to comprehend the words, then it slowly dawned on him, and he couldn't help a grin. "You're Audrey Grace, from the Post," he murmured.
Blair smiled. "You recognize it?" There was a nervous tremor behind her voice, but it was welcome from the cold voice Dan had grown accustom to. "I didn't think you read the Post. I didn't think you read much of anything news-related."
Despite himself, Dan laughed. "I don't. Trust me, I'm not too caught up on the news of this century." If he had, he reminded himself with a grimace, he'd have known the goings-on of the Upper East Siders. "No, no, I don't read the Post. But, Naomi - my wife - does. She's a huge fan of your human interest columns. She goes on and on..." Suddenly self-conscious with talking about his wife, Dan sped on. "So, what, you're under a secret alias so you can be a journalist?"
Blair shrugged, as if to say, more or less. "Chuck doesn't want me working, really," she explained, sounding a bit more than bothered with the fact. Visibly shaking it off, she went on, "He's got this superority complex, you know? Ever since we were kids... and he feels like I shouldn't work, 'cause we don't need the money."
A flash of envy boiled Dan's blood. How easy it would be, he mused, to carry on through life without a worry? How easy would it be to have a job only for the joy of working, not for survival?
"But, I love to write," Blair confessed, unaware of Dan's jealousy. "When I was a kid, I used to covet my writing skills. As an adult, I guess I missed the simplicity of those days." Blair leaned back on the couch, stretching languidly with a contented smile. "I applied for the human interest column at the Post, and they accepted me. Chuck doesn't know." With a dart of murderous brown eyes, she added, "And I'd like it to stay that way, thank you very much."
Dan nodded knowingly.
"This column is due by Friday," Blair continued. "But... I'm having some trouble with it." At the admittance, she dipped her head shyly, color rising to her cheeks again. "Tell me, Humphrey; how am I supposed to come up with a clincher for this topic? I didn't choose it."
Dan's eyes widened a fraction, and he bit his tongue. The Housewife Dilemma: Cheating Husbands.
All at once, guilt and remorse and anger flooded through Dan, and he had to clench his teeth to stop himself from crying out in frustration. In his albeit short time at the Bass penthouse, he had grown to see Blair less like an adversary and more like a friend, someone who confided in him and understood him. The truth, the reality, was facing him now, and he could do little more than shut his mouth.
Blair was still waiting expectantly for Dan's advice.
Each vein pulsed with panic. Dan hated to lie; the fact that he was harming Blair in general wounded him. With each agonizing second ticking away, he felt his resolve slipping along with the time. "Blair, I -"
You what? Serena's menacing voice echoed in his mind, discouraging him from telling the truth. Malice dripped from her lips; her resentment for him even vibrated in his ears. What of dear Naomi, Dan? What of your domestic life together?
Dan swallowed thickly.
"Humphrey!" Blair barked sharply, jarring him from his reverie. "What is it?" Dan hoped he was imagining the worry in her tone. The last thing he needed was Blair - former Waldorf - concerned for him, for it was severely out of character, and he was a bastard that didn't deserve her friendship.
Finally: "As your friend, I should probably tell you something." Each word pierced thorn-sharp in his throat.
No! Serena's anger was so real, so raw, that Dan physically flinched away from it.
Blair's eyes darkened; Dan could see the imperceptible flitting movement from the corner of his eye. With a discrete, rapid glance over the screen, she straightened herself. "If this is about Chuck," she began slowly, deliberately, an obvious pain sobering her voice, "I honestly don't want to hear it, Dan." It was the first time he could remember her using his first name. Her voice was collected and calm, almost icily so.
She knows? This time, it was Serena's confused voice; the one he could imagine with her furrowed brow and lips tucked into a pout. Ever since the fateful encounter in her suite not too long ago, Dan's thoughts were measured in Serena's voice, nonstop, constant; she was there, telling him what to do, what to say. He no longer recognized his own voice.
"Blair..." Dan was lost. As far as he knew - as far as Serena told him - Blair was completely out of the know. "I just -"
"If Chuck wants to go sleep all the call-girls in Manhattan, he can," Blair snapped, closing the laptop shut with a bit more force than necessary. She smiled at him, a placating smile that Dan could see right through. "I know about Chuck, Humphrey. I've known for a while." She turned away, her shoulders slumping with defeat. "I appreciate your concern, but, really, there's nothing much you could do."
Instinctively, Dan reached out, then forced his hand to fall short when he realized his comfort would be ill-received. He allowed her to walk away, each step carefully poised, her head somehow held high and haughty.
To her, it didn't seem to matter if her husband was unfaithful; it didn't seem to affect her. Dan had never expected such a reaction. Serena, then, must not have realized Blair's intuition wasn't so dull. She knew. She knew and yet still carried out life with him as if they were still in love.
Then, icy water doused Dan's insides as he remembered one key aspect: she didn't know it was Serena. Call-girls, yes, which shouldn't have surprised Dan; but her ex best friend? Never. Blair never even expected to know the names of the girls that assisted in ruining her marriage.
With the dawn of this thought, Dan clenched his fists with frustration, his eyes tightly squeezed shut. He forced himself to take calm breaths, to rationalize that this would help his marriage, but the mere fact that he considered Blair a close friend made the situation worse. Serena hadn't anticipated that he'd become a friend to Blair. Now that he had, Dan found he hated himself more than he believed possible.
