As he watched the two dark-haired figures walk slightly in front of him, Nate was just a little curious as to how Dan had become acquainted with someone who appeared to be a male model. Maybe Dan wasn't as blasé as everyone thought. Nate remained curious as to what the two were talking about. Every so often, Dan would say something that made that Damon guy laugh. Though, the way he laughed, Nate got chills up and down his spine.

The wandering trio eventually settled on an empty but still pleasant looking diner. Damon was curious as to how much the Upper East Side could charge for somewhat basic foods. Damon chuckled just a little as Dan and Nate tried to avoid sitting too close. This was awkward since they had been assigned a semi-circular booth. Never one to miss a chance to enjoy the squabbling of mortals, Damon planted himself somewhat in the middle. His entirely too happy smirk caused both Dan and Nate to roll their eyes. Dan knew why Damon found all this so amusing. Nate just assumed the two were nuts.

After their coffee had been ordered, Dan cleared his throat. "We all got off to an awkward start. Nate, meet Damon. Damon, meet Nate."

Nate gave a slight grunt, his hand still hurting a little. Damon merely quirked an eyebrow as a response.

"Please just try and play nice," Dan encouraged, ever the middleman. "Like grown-ups."

Nate rolled his eyes. "Weird idea from a guy who wrote some cheap tell-all."

"It wasn't supposed to be published, Nate. It was stolen." Dan explained through slightly gritted teeth for about the fourth time.

"So? You still made me into a kid," Nate spat, voice a few hitches away from actual anger.

"Wait, what?" Damon blurted out, trying to put the pieces together from the book he had read in one morning. Luckily, he hadn't grown up with these clinically insane children of privilege, thus was not privy to all of the details Dan had alluded to with Inside.

"He didn't tell you?" Nate asked, casting a glare at Dan, who in turn shifted focus elsewhere. "Oh, he made me younger than everybody else, and made me so immature it wasn't actually funny. Great friend behavior, right Dan?"

Dan gulped, still not knowing how to explain any of what he had written. "How many times have I apologized to you?"

"That's not the point," Nate said, voice low from anger.

"First off, he's apologizing for something he had no control over," Damon interjected. "Either you enjoy him being the martyr or you're just that angry. Which is it?"

"How is that any of your business?" Nate replied.

"I'm stuck sitting between you two kids in a misguided attempt at playing diplomat. Humor me." Damon said, quirking an eyebrow.

From his spot, Dan was quiet, but was trying to keep up with the back and forth verbiage. He was content to let Damon try and pry some information from the lately reticent Archibald. Dan was content to let the supernatural do his emotional dirty work for him.

"Well, Nate, which is it?" Damon asked again. Nate angrily cleared this throat.

"The point was he was supposed to be more loyal than that."

Damon's eyebrows slowly arched up. Dan found himself with mouth agape.

"What?" Nate asked aloud. "Is loyalty a feeling that's supposed to be beyond the grasp of the dull stoner?"

Damon knew better than to step further into this emotional minefield. He silently passed the verbal ball to Dan.

"Is that why you're mad?" Dan asked, genuinely hurt and touched. Nate nodded once.

"Of all the people in our world, Dan. It wasn't supposed to be you. You weren't supposed to stoop down to our level." Nate finally said, masking the tremble in his voice very well.

"What makes this better, Nate? What fixes us?" Dan finally asked, after an amazingly awkward stillness.

"You looking at me and telling me you didn't mean it. You look me in the eyes and tell me I'm not what you wrote." Nate answered.

For a brief moment, Damon reasoned that maybe witches and werewolves really weren't the scariest things in the world. He had forgotten the horror stories that came with actual twentysomethings. He hoped that sipping on coffee would somehow make him invisible. It was obvious to everyone at the booth that everyone else was working very hard to pick their words very carefully. Dan finally cleared his throat

"Nate, I didn't sit down and write that book overnight. It was something that started when I was in high school and I added onto it every so often. You know me, Nate. I'm moody and insecure. Remember what Serena put the both of us through? Remember high school? I remember you being the only one who would eat lunch with me. Do you remember Milo, Nate? Do you? Just because I wrote something in the past doesn't mean I mean any of it now. Now, you look at me and tell me if you think for one second I'm not being sincere."

Nate was frozen in his seat, Dan was again trying not to cry, and Damon was wishing he was somehow back in the Civil War. It was as awkward as each of them thought it was. The Southern Vamp was by no means going to be the first to talk. He knew the lunch would be awkward, but wow. He wasn't really sure of the exit strategy for this conversation; that key and path resided with the two mortals.

"Nate?" Dan finally said.

Yet another pause as Nate shifted in his spot. He looked up slowly, those famous blue eyes finally locking on Dan. They were filled with a feeling he hadn't shown in a while: approval.

"Yes, Dan?" Nate asked back, his face sliding into a smile.

And that was that, apparently. Damon suddenly felt like he could be a great politician. "You know, you two can get married in New York. Fun laws up here." Damon pointed out. Dan and Nate groaned slightly with laughter.

"Thanks, Damon," Dan said. "But I hear weddings are expensive."

"Oh, that's right." Damon chuckled. "You two both want Blair. Or is it Serena again? I'm confused. Judging by his book, Danny Boy seemed to want to sleep with most of you people."

"Not Chuck," Nate added, taking a sip of coffee. "That would end with blood on the walls."

Damon burst into laughter as soon as the sentence was uttered. It was timed perfectly with Dan choking on his coffee.

"What's funny?" Nate quizzically asked.

"Nothing, nothing," Dan quickly took over. "It's just that, uh… Damon was mentioning earlier about how he liked gory movies." He reasoned that was a great cover for murder.

"The gorier the better." Damon said, shifting his glance from Dan to Nate.

"Uh-huh," Nate said, a little unnerved. "So, how did you two meet?"

"Danny over there was trying to drown his sorrows in some pointlessly expensive bar," Damon explained. "I took it upon myself to mock him for being annoyingly mopey."

"And the book signing?" Nate asked, showing he still perused Gossip Girl.

"Well, Danny Boy emoted all over the place at the bar. Gave me a signed copy of the book and everything. I tracked him down at the book signing. And it just kinda fell into place from there."

"How bromantic," Nate said, wiggling an eyebrow. This earned a chuckle from Dan and a slight bit of a growl from Damon. "Relax. Dan has the weird ability to win people over. Hence we're all here." Nate explained.

Dan had a good quip ready when all three of their phones buzzed. The trio exchanged glances as they went for their respective mobile devices. Nate got to his first.

"Huh. The Minions are still missing," he said, reading over the Gossip Girl latest blast. "And she still doesn't know who you are."

"Delightful," Damon said simply. Dan gulped a little as he observed Damon freely able to listen to someone mention people he had slaughtered. "I'm sure they'll roll around sometime."

Dan was beside himself with what was probably fear. He was in awe that it was all so casual. "You're not going to rat him out, are you Nate?"

"Nah," Nate shrugged. "I like watching the whole UES wonder how Dan keeps showing up with A-list looking people around him."

Lengthy and slightly shaggy hair aside, Damon definitely qualified. Nate wondered if all the annoying texts from Blair he had gotten since yesterday were because Dan had again beaten the laws of averages and latched on with some mysterious stranger. Damon was probably still a little confused by it, but Nate knew that the Southerner was still in the wonderful throws of the fabled and oddly mythical Humphrey Charm.