A/N- MASSIVE thanks to Blood Red Kiss of Death, , SimplyShelbySJL, :D, ashtondene, LynniePearl, lunza, Heavenlydoll, blacklace922, Edwardslover09, PureSimplicity-xo, Princetongirl, simplybored, Cameran, YouSure, mystripedskirt, chasitybsp, Gaara-Love, sailor cyanide, bookworm455, al2010, and to flipped: (If I can still keep you guessing as to who Blair is going to end up with, then I'm doing my job J and I'm glad you like that it's not too simple.) You guys are so awesome for reviewing.
Initially, I was only going to post one Thanksgiving chapter but this one is already rather long, so I thought, why not split it into two. Then I can add more detail to the next chapter, perhaps a little Dan inclusion, not too sure yet. Anyways, I really hope I got the Thansgiving stuff right. It's very hard to find set information for it! Hope you enjoy :)
Five Doors Down
Chapter 8: Not-So-Much-Thanksgiving: Take 1
It was only the start of her Thanksgiving break, and Blair Waldorf already felt like she had nothing to be thankful for. The flight from New Haven to New York had been excruciating to say the least, not just because she hated flying, but because their plane had been delayed, and a mix-up at the stupid ticket office had left her sat next to Chuck while Nate was a dozen rows behind them.
She'd had nobody to keep her sane, what with the man next to her shuffling in his seat every couple seconds and Chuck on the other side making comments about the noise the plane was making. Even though the flight was only a couple hours, she was pretty sure that even with flight socks, she was going to develop deep vein thrombosis or something equally as bad at some point.
"We should have driven." She'd muttered to Chuck, who had buried himself in a copy of the New York Times after realising she wasn't going to make their flight easy.
"We don't have licences."
"That wouldn't normally stop you."
"I don't know how to drive."
"Nate would have figured it out."
He'd huffed then, put down his paper to shoot her a glare that told her she was being ridiculous. "You're just pissed because we got delayed and you know you're going to see Eleanor in a couple hours."
"Amongst other things." She'd then mumbled, not quietly enough as Chuck sighed once more.
"Is this about Cassie."
"No." She'd lied.
"Look Blair I said I was-"
"Sorry, yeah I know, and I told you you have nothing to be sorry about. You're both consenting adults right?"
"Right."
"So just forget about it." She'd told him. "Unless you don't want to forget about it, in which case, keep thinking about it. In fact, think about it all you want." She was getting flustered and her lips wouldn't stop moving. "Think about it now, I don't care."
"See, the thing is, it sounds like you do."
"Then have your hearing checked." She ended, getting up to squeeze herself past the fat man next to her. "I'm going to find Nate."
"You want to add planes to the list of moving vehicles you've removed your clothes in?"
"Maybe." She'd shrugged before walking away. "Just not for you."
And now that they'd landed safely, having been picked up from LaGuardia in a limo courtesy of Chuck's father, the three of them were back on Upper East Side territory, braced for what was sure to be yet another unconventional Thanksgiving.
-
"I hate my mother." Blair wailed down her phone to Nate, who had returned to his home to find that his own mother had seemingly shacked up with a man who wasn't his father.
"Blair, you've been there ten minutes." He laughed, tracing the outline of the captain in his favourite photo of the three of them.
"Yeah, ten minutes too long."
"What happened?"
"She and that...tiny little man...have taken over my house!"
"In which way?"
"In every way!" The brunette shrieked dramatically. "The only room that hasn't been redecorated is my bedroom. Seriously it's like being at Serena's: there's sheet plastic and dust covers everywhere! The bathroom's got his and hers sinks, only they didn't lower Cyrus's enough because it's still set four feet up from the ground and I'd imagine his head is way lower than that anyway."
"Blair, calm down." Nate laughed, forgetting for a moment about his mother and the Captain.
"And you know what's worse?" She gabbled. "They're not even here! They're having a weekend away in the Hamptons. Who goes to the Hamptons on Thanksgiving? Everybody knows the East Coast is for Summer vacationing only! Even daddy can't come from France this year, so there's no pie."
"So you're on your own?"
"I guess so. Except for Dorota and about a hundred builders. None of which appear to speak English by the way. Or understand it."
"Your mom just left you on your own for Thanksgiving?" Nate asked. "But it's your favourite holiday, she knows that."
"And obviously that means nothing. So I guess it's cookies and orange juice because that's all that's in the refrigerator."
"You can't have cookies and orange juice on Thanksgiving Blair." Nate replied. "Come to my house."
"Your parents won't mind?"
"Well my dad's in jail and my mom isn't here either." He told her, making his way to the kitchen to check the cupboards. "Looks like she's had somebody over."
"What? Somebody as in...a man somebody?"
"Yeah. And apparently he hates alcohol. Either that, or he's an alcoholic."
"How'd you-"
"There's no wine left." Nate answered quickly. "My mom always has wine with her dinner."
"Some Thanksgiving huh?" Blair sighed. "You'd think they'd be happy to see us considering we've been away for the season."
"They're our parents Blair, not normal ones. Besides, it wouldn't be Thanksgiving without some sort of abandonment on their part."
He could sense her nodding on the other end of the line. "True Archibald."
"So what do you say? Thanksgiving dinner at mine tomorrow. I'll get some groceries, you can make your dad's pie and-"
"But that's not the tradition!" She complained. It wasn't that she was trying to be difficult-Nate knew that. Blair just liked her Thanksgiving to be perfect and since her father had left for France, it never had been.
"We'll make a new one." Nate replied. "I'll shop, we'll cook, drink wine, be merry...all that stuff." He chuckled.
"Urgh fine." She rolled her eyes. "But make sure there's mashed potatoes."
"I will."
"And cranberry sauce."
"Cranberry sauce, got it."
"You know what Archibald, this could turn out to be a decent holiday for once."
"I'm glad you think so." He smiled. "So say around nine to start the preparations?"
"Nine it is."
-
"Serena." Chuck smarmed in the open doorway of his step-sister's room. "You're looking lovely as always. That west coast sun has left amazing lines." He cocked an eyebrow semi-appreciatively.
"I'll pretend that I don't hate you seeing as we're a family now and we haven't seen each other in months-"
"It's bitchy too." He cut in with a smile. Contrary to what everyone might have thought, he and Serena did get on well; they were friends after all, but banter was much more fun.
"I'm not an it, I'm your sister and you standing in the doorway looking at me like that is wrong on so many levels."
"The kind of wrong you like?"
"Oh my God Chuck." Serena laughed, making her way over to hug him. "Keep your hands where I can see them."
Chuck smiled as they broke away. "So how's California?"
"Great." She nodded. "The weather is so perfect and everyone is just so...relaxed, you know? It's so different from here and that's what I love about Berkeley." Her eyes were looking past him, almost like she was wishing she was back on the west coast already. "How's Yale? My mom told me you'd transferred?"
"Yeah, Duke wasn't exactly my scene."
"Chuck it's college, none of that is your scene." Serena laughed. "So is Yale any better? Do you see Nate and Blair much?"
"As a matter of fact, I live just along the hallway from them."
She rolled her eyes. "How much money did Bart have to donate to make that possible?"
"Serena, I'm offended that you think that of me."
She cocked an eyebrow knowingly.
"As a matter of fact, no money was donated. I just called in a few favours from some of the I.T geeks."
"I don't even want to know what favours you're talking about."
"Then don't ask." He replied with a smirk.
"So how are things with you and Blair?" Serena asked. "Do you make out behind couches at dorm parties? Or-"
"What are we? In junior high?" Chuck cut in. "We don't make out." He muttered. "She's too busy for that."
"What?" The blonde's ears pricked up. "Does Blair have a boyfriend?"
"No."
"Boyfriend-s?"
"No."
"Oh my God is she me from junior year?" Serena asked horrified.
"No." Chuck shook his head.
"Then what did you mean?"
"It's...nothing. Just forget it."
"You still love her."
"What? Don't be ridiculous."
"You do!" She exclaimed. "You still love Blair! That's why you went to Yale isn't it? To win her back!"
"I don't have to win Blair back from anybody."
"No? Then why is she spending Thanksgiving – her favourite holiday – with Nate?"
"She's what? How do you know that?"
"She called me. Her mom and Cyrus are in the Hamptons this year because of building work and..."
"Building work?"
"They're remodelling."
"On Thanksgiving?" Chuck asked disbelievingly.
"It's Eleanor Waldorf. She does inexplicable things. Much like my own mother."
"Ah yes, where is Lily? Buying the food for tomorrow's dinner?"
"No, because apparently as of last year, there's a new tradition on Thanksgiving now."
"Which is..."
"Dinner at Dan's house."
"With his dad?"
Serena nodded. "And yours."
"You're telling me Bart Bass is eating turkey in Brooklyn tomorrow?"
She nodded again. "Weird huh?"
"That's beyond weird, it's almost like they're all..."
"Friends?" Serena finished for him.
"I prefer the term acquaintances. I hate to think of my father being involved with anything Brooklyn-related."
"Hey! There's nothing wrong with Brooklyn."
"Humphrey is from there. That says everything."
"Chuck, don't be such an ass." Serena laughed. "It's good for them all to be friends, you know, no weird surprises over dinner, no awkwardness..."
"Where are we supposed to eat?" Chuck asked.
Serena shrugged. "A diner? I guess they figured we'd have plans with Blair. We did all used to go to Eleanor's party after all.
"But Eleanor isn't hosting a party this year."
"I know, we just confirmed that."
"So what? We just hit up Wendy's and have pancakes for Thanksgiving?"
"Or we could join Nate and Blair at Nate's house."
"Who's cooking? Dorota?"
"No." Laughed Serena. "Nate is."
"This isn't Thanksgiving, it's a joke, a poor excuse for a holiday, a-"
"Chuck, I'm eating with Blair and Nate, so unless you'd like to be stating the things you're thankful for on your own, I suggest you join us."
"I'm thankful for nothing." Chuck grumbled.
Serena rolled her eyes. "Well that's just selfish."
"Maybe." He shrugged. "But it's the truth."
"Then take your truths round to Nate's tomorrow because we're going to make this year blow last year's celebrations out of the water."
"Can't be hard."
"C'mon Chuck. It's not like we've got a better offer anyway."
Chuck rolled his eyes. "Fine. Just as long as we don't all have to 'pitch in'. I don't want to feel like a pilgrim in my own territory."
-
As it turned out, the combination of Blair and Nate in a kitchen with an oven neither had used before had proven to be a not-so-great one, and by the time Chuck and Serena arrived, Nate was psyching himself up to baste the turkey and Blair had cut her losses and settled on a stool with a glass of red wine.
"B?" Serena laughed at her friend as she and Chuck entered Nate's kitchen.
"Oh thank God." She returned sarcastically, rising to her feet to greet the blonde who only appeared more so as a result of the California sun. "Cooking is so stressful."
"Cooking?"
"Yeah Blair, cooking?" Nate added with a half-laugh. "You haven't even so much as chopped the potatoes!"
"I washed them!" The brunette returned indignantly. "But you were being all macho and 'I'm Nate Archibald, if anyone can cook Thanksgiving dinner, it's me.'"
"Oh my God, did you just do an impression of me?"
"Guys!" Serena stepped in laughing.
"Urgh." Chuck muttered. "It's like an episode of the Brady Bunch."
"I didn't know banter was your thing?" Serena directed towards Nate and Blair.
"Our thing?"
"Yeah your thing." The blonde frowned. "You and Nate."
"Sickening isn't it?" Chuck grunted again, helping himself to a glass out of the cupboard. "I have to witness it every day." He made his way to the drinks cabinet. "Nathaniel, where's the scotch?"
"Oh yeah...I knew I forgot something. Apparently my mom doesn't drink anymore so I had to get wine at the store."
"Wine? That's a woman's drink."
"Sexist much?" Blair bit, swirling her own red liquid around in its glass.
"Provocative much?" He eyed her silk dress, thin lace around the hem just grazing her thighs as he took the bottle from next to her, an attempt pour enough wine into his own glass to numb him against the pain that would surely follow. The four of them together on Thanksgiving was almost definitely recipe for disaster.