A/N: This was intended to be a one shot, but it became apparent that it was much too long for a one shot. I've got most of it written and I think it's going to be broken up into three parts. This is totally au, pre-series. It starts the spring before the series started. Here's what you need to know: Dan is hot and cool. He's still Dan in that he's from Brooklyn and he's basically the same character, but I've always felt that he wasn't appreciated enough by the Constance ladies. He's from Brooklyn, ok? Inherently cool. Blair is pretty much the same, only more open I suppose. The title comes from Lana Del Rey's "National Anthem" which brings me to my next points. This is inspired by that song and a few of her other ones. It's more of a tone thing than an actual characterization, story line thing, though some characterization stuff is similar. It's also weirdly inspired by Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. Dan and Blair will eventually be that kind of cool. Enough out of me. I hope you guys enjoy this! Any feedback is appreciated if you are so inclined!
The second time she sees him he takes her breath away. The second time she remembers anyway.
Marian Wesley's parents are out of town; an occasion which demands a party from any self-respecting high school class. She had heard about the scholarship student from Brooklyn that was taking the Upper East Side princesses by storm. She balked at her minions as they whispered salaciously about him and his….ways. She hears them say he's like that '60s movie star, the rebellious one. While that's relevant to her interests, she thinks it's wise to not trust the opinions of people who don't know James Dean's name and can't even place him in the correct decade. Besides, scholarship and Brooklyn are two words that guarantee Blair Waldorf will never give him the time of day, never mind her panties. No matter how famous his tongue is.
That was what she thought.
Then she sees him. Again. She recognizes his face from that hazy Thanksgiving she spent saving Serena….from him.
Hearing about him and seeing him, again, elicit different thoughts.
When she sees him her breath hitches. She had been crossing the living room. Musing about the possibilities of reincarnation for she is certain that the Wesleys' interior designer is Marie Antoinette. Then she sees him. She manages to keep moving, even when he breaks eye contact with Tiffany Stein to lock eyes with her. She considers it a triumph. If eyeing someone were an Olympic sport, she'd get gold for this particular event. She doesn't know where it's coming from either. She's never looked at anyone this way. Not even Nate. It's all instinct. When her eyes land on his lips she revels in the upturn of the corner of his mouth. She doesn't know why. She slowly moves her eyes back to his. He holds her gaze while continuing to engage Tiffany in conversation. Miraculously, she successfully crosses the living room. She's unsettled by the current of electricity that is still pulsing through her body.
Yes.
Seeing him elicits entirely different thoughts.
As she keeps a watchful eye over her queendom in the Wesleys' drawing room, she can't stop her mind from wandering to the planes and angles of his face and how she'd like to trace her fingers over those planes and angles. His cheekbones. His jawline. She remembers other things too. His intense eyes. His full lips. His short, '50s style hair. Despite her lack of sexual experience, she somehow knows what all the fuss is about. Dan Humphrey is a man among boys. While he's not actually from the '50s, he's certainly different from all of the other boys at St. Jude's. A hum escapes from her curious mind….her curious mouth. Her hand involuntarily rises to the column of her neck.
She takes a long sip of water from her glass. To be truly rebellious at these functions, one must abstain. Blair Waldorf is nothing if not rebellious. At least that's what she tells herself. She feels a magnet drawing her eyes away from the activities of a particularly annoying group of hormonal classmates. Her mental notes on the offending parties are abandoned when her eyes lock with his. She didn't even know he had moved into this room. He smiles almost imperceptibly and strides across the room.
It's amazing to watch him move through the crowd. He dodges people naturally. He just seems to know where he's going and how to get there with the least amount of resistance.
He smiles lazily and tilts his head congenially at the girls who call out to him as he passes by them. She's fascinated. It's like he knows what he wants and everything that tries to get in the way is of little consequence. Determination and confidence are new concepts to her. Nate gets distracted by every sliver of light that flashes before his eyes. Nate falls carelessly from her mind when Dan Humphrey gives her what she thinks is his first genuine smile of the night.
She's surprised that she's not surprised when he stops in front of her. "I'm saying this because you are dripping with potential."
She furrows her brow. "Saying what?"
He gestures toward her head with the hand that's holding his beer. "The headband. You have to lose it."
"Excuse me?" Her hands fly to her bright red headband. He doesn't get it. This is more than a fashion statement. This is her symbol of sovereignty over this generation of the Upper East Side. She needs it. He shouldn't be talking to her like this anyway. "I think you've confused me with some other silly girl at this party who follows the advice of a man, correction, boy because she's so insecure that she'll do anything for love. I hate to burst your horny little bubble but my daddy loves me." Even though he abandoned me for his male lover, she thinks but doesn't say. Instead, she smirks and takes a sip of her water.
His eyes light up. He takes a step closer when he should be walking away. She gave him the ice queen but all she feels is heat. "Oh, this is better than I thought."
Her eyes widen at his nerve. "Do you know who I am?" She doesn't care how good looking he is. She's not falling prey to the scholarship kid from Brooklyn. She's just not. Certainly not when he's being so disrespectful.
"I—I think I do." He takes her breath away again when he moves even closer and his eyes dance over her face. She opens her mouth, retort ready, but something snaps it shut. For once, she's interested in someone else's retort. He shakes his head. "I mean, yes, socially I know of you. I've seen you at school and I think we had a run in last year with your friend, whose daddy, based off of that show, does not love her." He intakes a sharp breath and shakes his head slightly. "Anyway, to answer your question the way in which you want it answered, I know that you are the ruler over these sad plebeians. They may be wealthy, but, trust me, they're plebeians. I don't know your name, but I too know enough about human behavior to know that you are their queen and that for some reason you think that means that I should bow at your feet as well."
She cuts her eyes away before looking at him again. "Hmmm, you seem intelligent, yet here you are, still talking." She steps away from the wall and closer to him. She registers that there's not much distance between them any longer but she doesn't care. His eyes travel to her lips for a moment before he gives her a small smile and bites his lip. He's actually eager; waiting, hoping for more. This is a game for him. She smiles in spite of herself. She's never had a worthy opponent before. No one else has ever been able to keep up with her or was too scared to try. "Let me save you some time: I am the wrong tree." She offers him a fork in the road.
He plants his feet, preparing to take the road less traveled. She feels giddy and heady. "I have good news and I have bad—" She cuts him off before he can finish his preface.
"If you're planning to share any of this news with me, then it is all bad news as far as I'm concerned." She smirks and shrugs her shoulders.
His laughter thrills her for some terrifying reason. "Oh my God. You are stealing my heart right now. It's honestly criminal." He smiles genuinely again and she can't help but match it as their eyes lock again. "The good news is that we agree on something: I do think I should bow at your feet." He pauses and lets the words settle in her. Her eyes dance with confusion. His eyes drift to her lips before rising back to hers. "The only thing is that I want to worship you in an entirely different way than they do, a better way. And for entirely different reasons, better reasons. Some might even say the right reasons." She makes a critical error and swallows hard. He sees it and smiles smugly before continuing. "Speaking of things that are right, the bad news is that we have a fundamental disagreement: I have a strong suspicion that you are, in fact, the right tree."
She rolls her eyes while her heart is slamming against her chest. "Did you reach these conclusions before or after you came over here to insult me?" She crosses her arms and takes a step back.
"Insult you?" He reels back in mock offense. "No, no, no. I wasn't insulting you with the headband suggestion. I was trying to help you start to reach your full potential. The reason I'm interested in helping you reach your full potential is because I decided when I saw you walking across that room that you're ready."
She laughs at his boldness. "Ready for what exactly?"
"Me." He says like it's obvious. "The right tree."
"You got all of that from a walk across the room? Why would I ever be interested in anyone who is so easily wooed? And why would you ever be interested in anyone who is interested in anyone who is so easily wooed?" She eyes him suspiciously.
He licks his lips and his eyes darken slightly. He leans in to whisper in her ear. His proximity and breath against her skin cause her breathing to become shallow. "I should warn you that critical thinking skills turn me on." His eyes are serious when he pulls back to a more socially appropriate distance. She has to catch herself before her body leans back into him. "That was not just a walk across the room. That—that was a moment. In the interest of full disclosure, I have… experience. I've been with—a few—girls. Some from Constance, some not. In all of my experiences, I've never had a moment like that." He looks around cautiously. Everyone around them is sloppy and unaware so he continues. "I've seen you at these things before. I've watched you. I'm a writer; I observe. Not only are you the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, you're also the sexiest. You have the potential to be anyway. I think you realized that tonight. In that moment you did. My God. I'll be thinking about that for the rest of my life." He trails off quietly, but doesn't break eye contact. She does though. It's overwhelming. He's overwhelming. He moves so that he's able to meet her eyes again. The action shocks her a little. He's just so….sure. "Then I came over here to talk to you and you're a spitfire. You're smart. You're funny. I—I have to know you now." He shrugs and takes a sip of his beer.
"I—You're inappropriate." She barely squeaks out.
He pulls his head back in wonder. "Oh….You're shy." He says it so softly that she almost didn't hear it. Her eyes fly to his and he must be able to see that she's about to rip his head off because he qualifies it. "Sometimes." He takes a step back and holds his hand out between them.
"Are you resting your case? I'd like to leave." She sets her glass down on a high top table and looks back at him with raised eyebrows.
"No. No way. That was only my opening statement. I've got evidence to gather as well as present. We can take a recess though. Never let me or anyone else stop you from doing what you want to do." She doesn't know why but her heart warms at the words. He starts to walk away when he turns and comes back to her. He reaches out and takes her headband off.
"Hey!" She tries to snatch her headband back from him but he keeps a firm grip on it. "You just said not to let anyone stop me from doing what I want to do! I want to wear that headband!" She pouts her lips.
He inhales sharply. "Oh, that pout is going to be a problem for me. I can tell." He says, mostly to himself and it makes her shift uncomfortably. A mischievous smile flashes across his face. "You're right. I did say that. I'm sorry. I do mean it, but I have to put my foot down here. This headband is not a crown, baby, it's a tether." Her eyes widen and dart away from his. He does get it. "The sooner you realize that, the better." He smiles apologetically and walks away for good this time. This guy has just insulted her, flirted with her, practically seduced her, stolen her headband and yet all she can focus on is that he called her baby. Baby? It was so natural and sexy. She should be offended, but he didn't say it like it was derogatory. No, it was more like a compliment. How did he manage that? It just rolled off of his lips. His lips…. She looks around the room anxiously. Where's Nate? She needs to go home.
It's nearly a week before he speaks to her again.
She's sitting on her throne, watching people as they pass by, imagining what they're thinking, trying to figure out pieces of their stories. The afternoons she spends on the Met steps have become her favorite part of the day. Her mornings on the Met steps are riddled with silly, giggling girls and power plays. No one knows she comes back after school and reclaims her throne. Whether it's because no one cares or she's good at hiding it, she can't figure out. She sees shoes stop beside her out of the corner of her eye. She slowly turns her head and lowers her sunglasses to glare at the intruder. It's him. She tries to stop the smile from reaching her lips but the curl of his lips lets her know she's too late.
He lowers his own sunglasses as he looks down at her. "This is cinematic, baby." He takes his messenger bag off and sits down beside her.
She looks over at him. "This is no movie I'm interested in seeing."
He smirks at her and leans back against the steps. "And here I thought you might play nice today."
She smiles at him before turning back to the people passing in front of them on the street. "I can't imagine where you got such an idea. I'm genuinely offended." He laughs and she turns her head briefly to watch. He's so free and happy. It makes her smile.
His laugh fades to a warm smile. "You know if you keep smiling at me like that I'm going to continue getting the wrong idea." This time she laughs.
"I've already told you quite explicitly that I'm not interested in being another member of your fan club yet here you are. I don't see how it matters what I do or say." She shrugs and focuses on a young family that sits down a few steps below them.
"I don't have a fan club but if I did, I wouldn't want you to be a member." He tells her casually.
"Gee, thanks." She looks at him for a moment before turning her attention back to the family. "You really know the way to a girl's heart."
He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees so he's closer to her. "I do, actually. Yours anyway. And that's the only heart I'm concerned about at the moment; which is why I wouldn't want you to be a member of my fan club. I could never date my groupie. It'd be weird. They'd be too agreeable and sweet for the sake of being sweet. I don't like that. I need someone like you."
Her heart flutters. She doesn't know why but she believes him. He's been with—a few—girls but he doesn't have a bad reputation. Quite the opposite. She's feeling playful though. "Do you honestly think this is the way to my heart?" She watches as the husband and wife laugh with each other. Their little girl is busy bounding up and down the stairs. Blair's heart aches with envy. She's not sure if it's because of the happy couple or the lucky little girl.
"This is what I mean. I like this. You're a firecracker, but I also think you have a lot of heart. Whether you show it or not." She hears his words and feels him slide closer to her, but she doesn't respond to either. She's entranced with the scene before her. She doesn't know how long it's been when she feels his hand lightly brush against hers. Electric warmth courses through her. "It's your turn." He reminds her quietly.
"You're a writer." She turns toward him and removes her sunglasses. He does the same and she can see his eyes are soft and curious. "What do you think their story is?" She tilts her head toward the family.
"Uh, well…." He's eyeing her like he has a million questions based off of that one, simple question. He slowly moves his eyes away from her to the family and she does the same. "Let's see. They're from here. You can tell by how comfortable they are. I think she's from Brooklyn though. She looks like it. They've been together a long time. You can tell that by how comfortable they are together. Look how easily they interact. They're 27, their daughter is 5. She was a surprise. They were going to wait to have kids until they were 30, but life happens. They love her though. They don't regret having her at all. They struggled with it at the time. She had a lot she wanted to do before she had a baby. Look at their daughter though. She's so happy and playful. They love her. They're happy. All of them. She, her name is Rebecca, by the way, is an artist. They have a studio in their brownstone. Delilah, their daughter, she paints with her when Luke isn't there. Luke works as a music supervisor for a small production company. He's home a lot and he helps take care of her so Rebecca has lots of time to paint. He's more practical than Rebecca. That's why they work." She can feel his eyes move to her. She doesn't look at him. "He pursued her relentlessly when they were in high school. She was skeptical, but he just knew. He didn't mind working for her though. Sometimes when you want it, you've got to work for it." He lets his words hang in the air for a few moments. "What's this about?"
She reluctantly turns to look at him. "I don't know." She drops her eyes and turns back to see the family leave. "They look so happy. I want to know why….I want to know how." She finishes quietly. It dawns on her that she just shared her insecurity with a stranger. What is she doing? She flushes and stands up quickly. "I need to go. I can't spend my afternoon chatting with charity cases." She moves down the steps as quickly as possible.
"Hey!" She can hear him following after her. "Wait. Where are you going?" He catches up with her and grabs her arm loosely. He smiles at her. "Why are you running?"
She puts her sunglasses back on. "I told you—"
"Yeah, I know. Charity cases and all that." He laughs lightly and looks to the side briefly. "I'm not a charity case. My family does pretty well but they can't afford the tuition at St. Jude's so I have a scholarship." He shrugs. "That means that I earned it though. I worked hard to be there. I'm not ever going to be ashamed of that." He takes a step closer to her. "Besides, something tells me that you admire hard work." She sighs dramatically and folds her arms. The truth is she does. She may have been handed every material or monetary thing she ever needed, but other things have never come easy to her. "Do you want to talk about why you threw a wall up?" She can feel tears stinging her eyes. She shakes her head and crosses her arms. "Ok. I'm not going to push. Not if you don't really want me to." He runs a hand up and down the back of his head. "I've—uh—I've got to go. I have plans tonight and I need to do some school work. I'll see you around…" He's suddenly amused by something. "We haven't been formally introduced." He extends his hand.
It's a choice.
It wouldn't be entirely out of her character to just turn around and walk away. That would be easy though. And where would it get her? Serena's gone. Her dad's gone. Her mom might as well be gone too. Nate is ignoring her. Chuck is….Chuck.
So she makes a choice.
She puts her hand in his and smiles shyly. "Waldorf. Blair Waldorf."
He laughs. "Humphrey. Dan Humphrey." He grips her hand and shakes it gently. "It's very nice to meet you, Waldorf." He smiles warmly and rubs his thumb over the back of her hand. Her breath catches. He moves closer to her and whispers in her ear. Her hand instinctively moves to his shoulder; to keep him close. "I hope you know this means I'm going to push." He kisses her cheek and steps away from her.
She purses her lips in a failed attempt to hide her amusement. "As you wish, Humphrey." She shrugs nonchalantly.
He raises an eyebrow and smirks at her as he starts to back away. "What's your favorite movie, baby?"
"That's another thing; you really need to stop calling me that." She ignores his question. Secretly, it gives her a tiny thrill when he calls her that. He says it like it's her name or something. It's interesting instead of offensive.
"No way." He shakes his head playfully. "There's a reason and when I tell you it, you're going to love it. I can tell." He puts his sunglasses back on and starts to talk louder as he gets further away. "Now, what's your favorite movie, baby?"
She smiles confidently. "Today? 'It Happened One Night' Always? 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'."
His smile widens and his hand flies to his heart. She crosses her arms and the corner of her mouth quirks up. "I knew it. I'll see you tomorrow. Hopefully minus that headband." She rolls her eyes even though he probably can't see it. He turns around and continues walking away from her. It scares her to realize that she doesn't like that.
It turns out tomorrow is less than a day away. She sees Dan that night.
"Nate, don't—" She sighs dejectedly as he tosses the program into the garbage can. "Throw that away." She's been going to a lot of these exhibits this year and she's been collecting the programs. She likes to keep records. It's proof that she's living and doing things whether anyone else notices or not. Plus she really likes this artist.
"What?" He looks at her like he's just noticed her presence. "Did you say something?"
She smiles and shakes her head. It's not worth it. She can just grab another one on the way out. "Let's start in the back room. The colors are so vibrant and beautiful in that series." She grabs his hand and starts to move toward the room.
"I'll meet you back there. I saw some food by the exit." He releases her hand and starts walking toward the refreshment table. She jerks her head to the side at the slight. She doesn't know what she's done to him to make him act like this lately, but she's almost reached her limit. She turns on her heel and goes to the back room alone.
She's lost in the artist's signature piece. She closes her eyes and imagines she's in the painting.
"You're such a girl." His whisper against her neck causes her skin to shiver. It's Dan. She turns around to confirm it's him and her heart warms when she sees his shining eyes and bright smile. Someone in the world does want to talk to her.
"That is a rather astute observation, Humphrey. What an impressive brain you have." She smirks and widens her eyes before turning back to the painting.
"Oh, believe me, I'm well aware that you are all woman." He moves to stand beside her and cuts his eyes toward her. Her skin burns and tingles. "I just didn't take you for such a….girl." He lets out a long breath. "The colors and the imagery…It appeals to feminine sensibilities. I guess your never ending supply of headbands should have been a sign though." He eyes her latest headband like it's the crucifix to his vampire. She smirks at him, he doesn't need to know that he's starting to wear her down on the headband issue. He shrugs and takes a drink from his glass casually. "And, while I do agree that my brain is impressive, I assure you it's not the most impressive part of my anatomy." She laughs out loud at his cheesiness. He turns his head to look at her this time. She blushes when she meets his gaze. She looks away and moves to the next painting.
Her heart skips a beat when she realizes that he's following her. "I see subtlety continues to be elusive for you." She stops at a clean, precise painting. It's done in grays and whites. It could almost pass for a photograph it's so perfect. She turns to watch him as he takes it in. "I bet this is your favorite." She bites her lip and studies him.
He lets out a light laugh and looks down before looking at her. "Have I already become so predictable?" He asks forlornly.
She smiles sweetly. "No, you're just such a boy." He tilts his head in agreement and takes another drink from his glass. She notices that it's staining his lips. "Is that wine?" He nods and holds it out in front of her, offering her some. She takes it from him hesitantly. "Normally I wouldn't do this without a tetanus shot, but I'm desperate." She cuts her eyes to him playfully over the glass before taking a sip. "How'd you get your hands on this anyway?"
"Oh, I know the guy that manages the gallery." He gestures behind him toward the crowd. "My dad hooked him up with a front desk position at his gallery right out of high school and we've been good friends ever since." She nods and takes another sip, longer this time. Too long, apparently, because his eyes get wide and he laughs. "Easy, tiger." He takes the wine from her and takes a sip. He extends it out to her again. She shakes her head. "It's ok. I was just messing with you before."
"No, I don't like to drink much." She doesn't like the loss of control that accompanies the feeling of freedom. She can feel him studying her. She smiles politely. "It goes straight to my head. Nobody likes a sloppy young lady." She clears her throat nervously.
"Right." He turns back to the painting. "So, uh, if I show you my real favorite piece, will you show me yours? I know it wasn't the one I found you daydreaming in front of."
She's taken aback for a moment. She smiles at the floor before looking back at him. "Yes." He gives her a small smile before grabbing her hand and leading her out of the room.
Showing each other their favorite pieces turned into walking through the whole exhibit together. She gets caught up in how knowledgeable and interested he is. None of her friends have ever appreciated culture the way she does. It's nice to finally have someone to debate the pieces with….even if it's only for a night.
They're outside discussing the exhibit with Dan's friend, Derek.
"What did you guys think of 'Ode to Keats'?" Derek scrunches up his face as he poses the question.
Blair almost snorts. "Is that actually the name of one of the pieces?"
Dan laughs and takes a sip of wine. "Yeah, you don't remember that one, Waldorf?" He looks at her and smiles. "It was…" He laughs again before he can even finish talking.
She laughs too and shakes her head. "Oh, no. No. Was it the urn?" Derek joins in the laughter and nods sadly.
"I mean it's still beautiful. Even if it is embarrassingly obvious." He tilts his head and widens his eyes.
"You're too generous, Humphrey." She smiles at him. She lifts her leg and kicks his lightly with hers. He mirrors the action.
"Only about certain things." He returns her smile. He shrugs and drinks some more. "I think that as talented as Gemma is, she's allowed to have one piece that's, I don't know, a love letter of sorts."
"Yeah, man, I agree with Waldorf over here. You're a total softie." They're laughing when she sees Nate come wandering out of the gallery.
"Uh oh." She mutters and Dan follows her line of vision. He cuts his eyes between the two of them.
"Blair, what the hell?" Nate approaches her, arms spread out in question. Dan moves away from the wall and finishes off his wine before tossing the cup in the trash.
"I'm going back inside." Derek excuses himself. "Come find me before you leave, man. Mallory's having a party this weekend." He claps Dan on the back on his way back in.
"Right on." Dan says absently, focused more on Blair and the scene unfolding before him.
"Nate, I'm sorry. I ran into Dan and I just lost track of time. Did you see everything you wanted to see?" She asks sweetly, hoping to redirect his anger.
"I didn't want to see any of it! I was only here because you guilted me into it." He runs a hand through his carefully styled hair. "Can we just go now? And who the hell is Dan?"
She's about to introduce Dan when he steps forward and extends his hand. "That would be me. Dan Humphrey."
Nate shakes his hand and smiles. "Oh, hey. Sorry. Nate Archibald." He's always so clueless. "Blair's boyfriend." Or not so clueless. Dan smirks and nods.
"Ok, well, I guess we should be going." She crosses over to Nate and takes his hand. She doesn't miss Dan staring at their interlaced hands. It makes her uneasy.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" Nate is looking at Dan in confusion. "You look so familiar and I know I've heard your name before."
Dan laughs. "Yeah, I, uh, I go to school with you." His amused eyes flicker to Blair's momentarily. She bites her lip to keep from laughing. "It's cool though. I tend to hang out more with the girls."
"Oh. Ok. Sorry…again, dude. It's been a rough night. Art." Nate shakes his head in exasperation. "Did your girlfriend drag you here too?"
"No, no. I don't have a girlfriend. I came of my own volition." Dan smiles genially.
She looks at Nate sweetly when his eyes nearly bug out of his head. He's really so adorable. "Oh. Wow. Maybe next time you could save me a trip." He laughs and wraps his arm around Blair. She flushes with embarrassment at her boyfriend's willingness to pass her off on a handsome stranger rather than look at art. She can see Dan is sizing him up. She is in trouble with this one.
"Gladly." He cuts his eyes to Blair and smiles. "I'm going to head back inside. I think the artist is about to speak. I'll see you around." He keeps his eyes on Blair as he passes by them.
"Nice to meet you, man." Nate calls after him. Dan waves his hand in acknowledgement. "He's a cool guy. I'll have to hang out with him at school." Blair looks behind her sadly as Nate leads her away from Dan and all of the art. She'd give almost anything to be living that life.