AN: Thank you so much to my amazing beta, ASadAir, who always makes time for editing this fic. It means so much! Also, thank you all for continuing to read these Dair fics :)
By November, the trees stood lonely and bare. The last remnants of fall have been cleared from the sidewalks of New Haven, now covered in ice rather than foliage. After Thanksgiving break, the weeks between the holidays seemed to melt into one.
Blair can barely believe that the first semester of college is ending in just one week. Finals have completely overtaken her life and she can't even remember the last time she slept in her own bed rather than on the cold, hard surface of the library desk.
She thinks that one day, she'll miss these sleepless nights. But for now, she loathes the tired appearance they give her face and the deprivation of her wit as she passes notes back and forth with Dan.
Ready for Monday's final?
No. Yes. Maybe. You?
Dan writes back:
Sort-of. But let's study together tonight?
She nods in reply, her hand too tired to write out a reply.
Dan passes another note.
Your dorm or mine?
Mine. Georgina will be out.
Dan quirks a brow.
Guessing she's working her magic on some poor sap who's smart enough to pass her classes on her behalf.
Yep. Some pledge in Sig Nu is making her flashcards and cheat sheets.
Figures. You know she paid someone five grand to take her SATs in high school?
Not surprised. I once saw her on a casting site looking through actresses that looked eerily similar to her. Fairly certain she's going to hire a double to finish out the year for her.
Think she'll last that long?
I hope not. You know her better than me, being her BFF and all.
Blair watches as Dan shakes his head and crumples the note. She never tires of teasing him for his sort-of friendship with the abominable Georgina. He claims it was a "necessary friendship" to survive high school but one he still can't seem to shake. Blair thinks he may be getting closer to what he wants though given that Georgina finds it repulsive that Dan is willingly hanging out with Blair.
"Dan, please tell me you are here to see me and not Blair, as she just suggested." Georgina had icily demanded the first time he stopped by their shared dorm room to grab Blair for a study session.
"Georgina," Dan had said, visibly flummoxed. "I didn't realize you would be here."
"Oh Dan Humphrey," Georgina shook her head, regretfully. "How hard I've tried to save you from your poor social decisions…"
Blair had watched the whole thing prickling with discomfort, but that was weeks ago now and she had pretty much shaken off the feeling of shame.
Mostly.
Every now and then, Georgina's very presence re-stirred old feelings of being an outcast. But then, she'll get to Intro to Film and see Dan smiling at her followed by her girlfriends waving from the back row and she'll suddenly feel that sense of belonging again. The one that confirmed Yale was her destiny after all.
So maybe she didn't have an overflowing social calendar but she had Dan, Nelly, and Raina's circle of friends which were quickly becoming her circle of friends. It was enough to make her feel like things were only going to keep getting better.
With only one last final to go each, a sample 5,000 word article they've both completed for journalism, Dan and Blair sit in Sterling on Thursday night. They're proofreading each other's papers, or at least Blair still is, as Dan scans through the spring schedule she made. She's still assaulting his article with her ball-point red pen. Her paper on the other hand only has a few extra commas slashed out.
"Do we have to take Classical Hollywood Narrative in the spring semester? It seems like it could wait until sophomore year." Dan asks, thinking of snatching his article back. "Are you almost done with that, by the way? I don't have time for a total rewrite."
They'll have all the same courses save for their respective foreign languages and also a fashion course Blair was taking as an elective.
"Dan," Blair pleads with him. "It's been my number one class since we got here, I didn't get in for fall so this is our chance. And no, I'm not suggesting a total rewrite of your article. Just some… reworking."
"But what if just one of us gets in?" Dan puts his hand on hers to still her slashing hand. He stealthily takes his paperback and watches as she finally sets down the pen.
"Then you're on your own in Postmodern Italian." She shrugs apologetically.
"Fine," Dan relents. "But this means you're taking Introductory Film Writing and Directing with me."
"Deal." Blair sticks her hand out across the library table. "We can be partners on all the projects. I'll direct, you'll write. And film."
"So I'll do all the grunt work?" Dan asks wryly. "Then, once I turn in my half you'll go all combative on my work again with your 'corrections.'"
"Exactly. You're catching on to how this works." Blair gives him a smile that softens him inside.
"What are you going to do over winter break? With no one to harass." Dan sticks his article into his messenger bag.
"Hm," Blair sets her elbow on the table and brings a finger to her chin. "I'll probably have to ask Georgina for that casting site she uses. I'll find a Dan Humphrey look-a-like to berate."
"Sounds about right." Dan chuckles.
"What about you?"
"I was thinking of spending the last few weeks in Hudson actually. I have to go to Manhattan for Christmas but maybe I'll head up for the New Year." Dan says as the idea comes to him. Maybe he can even see what she's doing for New Year's Eve.
"No," Blair shakes her head. "You should stay until the first. Raina invited me to spend New Year's Eve at the Thorpes' annual NYE party. You could come, I think it's in Midtown."
"How are you getting there?"
"I'll take the train into the city." Blair says as though it's obvious. "Hey, if you're in Hudson for end of the break do you think we can ride back to school together?"
"Sure," Dan says. "I'll spend all my sparse days of winter break putting together a playlist we can agree upon."
"I don't trust your taste." Blair stands. "I'll bring back-up."
"Just no Vivaldi okay?"
"No promises," Blair rolls her eyes at him. Then, she taps his article which now resembles a crime scene. "Come on, you have a final draft to write and we have plenty of time between now and then to find a musician we both like."
The lonely train ride up to Albany makes Blair miss Dan and his penchant for bad music. At least she sprang for business class this time. That money was supposed to be used for a new tote bag to carry her bags in next semester but her current tattered tote with its frayed handles would have to hold on until May.
The only thing keeping her from getting off at the next stop and turning right back around toward New Haven is the promise of New Year's Eve. The last time she was in the city was that day with Nate; it used to be a memory that she thought would be preserved in a vault in her mind until she was one-hundred years old. Yet, thinking of it now, she feels the edges of the memory have gone fuzzy and it feels too far away to grasp. As though her mind is trying to release it to make room for preserving more important moments yet-to-come.
What she can remember, was his lips on hers as ducks swam by in the pond at Central Park. "Why? Why now?" She had asked as soon as he pulled away, while her heart hammered to the beat of the drums beating somewhere nearby.
"I thought we shouldn't go off to college without knowing." Nate shrugged, implying inconsequentiality. In that moment, she thought of telling him but then he had thrown an arm around her in a platonic fashion. "You're my best friend, Blair. You always will be."
And that was that. Chapter closed.
She always thought he should have done that at prom if he was really so curious what kissing her would be like. But then maybe that moment wouldn't have been as magical. Prom confetti and dimmed gym lighting could never rival the soft-focus sunlight that streamed through the clouds that day and reflected off the snow.
Admittedly, university had made Nate recede, if only a tiny bit, deeper into the crevices of her mind. It was hard to wonder what he was up to when she had new bright and shiny friends occupying her thoughts. And harder yet to wonder about Nate when she had Dan and his irritating way of hijacking her weekdays.
But the past did keep creeping into her mind the further the train stretched into northern territory. Like that unread email from Marcus that she had spotted in her inbox the morning of her last final. She couldn't quite understand why she waiting to read it – fear, trepidation, apathy? Even now, older and wiser she couldn't quite decide what Marcus had been to her – first love, no, a distraction – yes that was most likely. But still, he was still Lord Marcus Beaton. She'd be an idiot not to reply to whatever he was asking her.
Figuring there was no time like the present, Blair pulls up her email on her phone already regretting the data overcharge she's likely working towards just by reading this email.
Dear Blair, ( as she begins to read, the voice in her head turns British and lordly)
I hope this email finds you well. I must start by saying it is too often I think of you when I think of the US. You'll always be the most treasured memory from my brief, yet impactful, time in your states.
I am writing to inform you that I will be in New York City on January 3rd to meet with the UN for business. It would be remiss of me not to ask you if I could see you. At rare opportunities when my mind is free, it seems to wander toward you. It would be a true pleasure to see you again and hear what you have been doing since I last saw you. I imagine you are at Yale, just like you always wished and I truly hope that dream came true for you.
My number is below if you would like to text or call me to arrange a meeting. If you are busy or on holiday, I will miss seeing you but completely understand. Please do also give my regards to Nathaniel, I trust you two are still in touch.
Yours,
Lord Marcus Beaton
Blair rereads the email finding herself puzzling over it. Marcus, Lord Marcus, thought of her often? Why? She wondered. There had to be a Duchess out there he's betrothed to and occupying his mind rather than just some common American girl he dated for five minutes in high school.
Suddenly, she wishes she and Raina had spent less time gossiping about boys on campus and more time reminiscing on boys of the past so she could ask her opinion. But Raina, nor Epperley or any of the other girls, even knew that Blair had dated British royalty in high school.
Blair drafts and re-drafts so many replies that she doesn't even realize that they've arrived in Albany until she hears the final call for the stop. She stands, retrieving her bag, and tucks her phone back into her purse.
She spots Nate instantly waiting just outside the station and suddenly, Albany feels like home again.
"What are you doing here?" She asks once the surprise has worn off and they've exchanged hellos.
"Your mom told me what train you were on so I thought I'd save her the trip and pick you up." There's that grin again, the one she almost forgot about. She blinks, taking in the overwhelming glimmer of him. She's thrilled to see him yet she registers a flicker of something being off. A missing piece.
They head toward his car, a sleek BMW given to him as a graduation gift by Grandfather Vanderbilt. Nate deposits her bag in the trunk while she settles into the passenger seat.
"So, this," Blair gestures to the interior. "Somehow survived college? I pray I'm not sitting in the same spot where your last date vomited the morning-after."
"I'm like a walking cure for hangovers, they don't exist when I'm around." Nate says in a way that comes off as charming rather than cocky.
"Sure, Nate." Blair remarks sarcastically. "So do you want to hear about my nightmare roommate first or my glamorous circle of friends?"
"The latter," Nate wrinkles his forehead. "Or former? I still confuse those… And I've heard too many snippets of this Gloriana to not hear the full story yet-"
"Georgina," Blair corrects. "Though it does please me to hear you screw up her name. Promise you'll call her that if you ever meet her, which I hope you don't. But really, she called me Claire for a solid month so it would be the perfect payback."
"I think I can agree to that." Nate nods, eyes fixed on the road. "But only once I've heard how awful she is."
"Done." Blair smiles and begins at the beginning.
"She's truly a terror." Nate surmises. By the time Blair has finished telling all her Georgina-centric tales, they've arrived at her house.
"I almost forgot to tell you," Blair remembers as they're walking up to the porch. "Marcus asked me to give you his regards." Blair adopts a British accent.
"Lord Marcus?"
"The one and only." Blair says, watching Nate's reaction carefully.
"I didn't know you even still talked to him." Nate follows her into the house and sets her bags on the stairs. "Isn't he busy? Being a Lord or whatever?"
"Yes," Blair grins, winningly. "But apparently not too busy to see me when he's in town in three weeks. I'm meeting him at The Russian Tea Room."
"Darling," Eleanor bursts through the hallway, a pin cushion in hand. "I thought that was you."
"Hi Mom, I missed you."
"And I, you." Eleanor turns to Nate. "Thank you, Nate. That was so sweet of you to pick her up."
"Anytime." Nate gives a good-natured shrug and then looks toward the door. "I should let you two catch up and you probably want to unpack, Blair. I'll see you tomorrow, though? Drinks at 518?"
518 was their favorite bar, a speakeasy-style that made Blair feel like she was Louise Brooks and Nate her very own John Barrymore. "Sounds perfect. Thanks again, Natie."
As Blair watches Nate walk away it finally hits her – what was missing earlier when she first saw him, the off vibe. The feeling she felt when she saw him, the dynamic between them was finally how it should be between two best friends. No pang in her chest, no lurch in her stomach. Just a general sense of happiness at Nate's company.
The realization makes her realize something else. Something about her friendship with Dan that she's not quite ready to face yet.
When Dan had arrived back in Manhattan after three long months in the sleepy town of New Haven, he had felt certain the city would be alive with energy. But instead, the past two weeks have meandered slower than imaginable. Not even Jenny's melodramatic tantrums have served to entertain him – and that includes the latest meltdown in which she was restricted from seeing her boyfriend Damien and promptly threw all her nicest dresses in the dumpster down the alley and lit it on fire. What was most troubling to Dan was that Jenny had so casually unsheathed a lighter from her pocket.
The only thing keeping Dan from hopping in his car and heading to Hudson was the promise of a New Year's Eve with familiar company. Not only would he be seeing Blair again but also her friends who were beginning to feel like his friends too. He liked the way that Raina didn't flash her wealthy upbringing like his crowd did, namely Serena. And Blair, well, Blair made him feel like the person he was always meant to be.
Missing her certainly must come from the lack of intelligent company that's been plaguing him. He never knew it but his brain had come to rely on their daily word combat. Without their jousts and jests of verbs, his writing had become lackluster.
The novel he had been working since before break has seen so little action, he feels positive his laptop will soon take the liberty of destroying the lifeless file. Searching for some form of inspiration in the meantime has also proved fruitless. Even coffee with Vanessa, an awkward half-hour of her spilling about her new director boyfriend, was uninspiring. Before, just ten minutes with Vanessa used to ignite enough of a spark to write a few pages.
The only thing the tense reunion had sparked within him was the knowledge that Vanessa was right to call off their relationship when she had. So he had wished her goodbye with the knowledge that even their friendship would likely soon fade into the past.
"Dan!" Dan's introspection is interrupted by Serena's singsongy voice. "Stop brooding, we're going out."
Dan spins around in his desk chair to see Serena accompanied by a glaring Georgina, still bitter of his avoidance of her on campus. "Where?"
Normally, he'd decline the invite without even asking what it was for but with New Year's still forty-eight hours away his boredom was unbearable.
"Nowhere your New Haven charity case could get into." Georgina says as she leans against the doorframe.
Serena glances at Georgina, seemingly considering, before brushing aside the comment and looking back at Dan. "Bemelmans. So you won't get carded. I still think you should get a fake, by the way."
"I know a guy," Georgina offers. "If you let me hook you up, then we could go out when we're back in New Haven."
Dan stands, ignoring the offers of fake IDs and New Haven outings with Georgina Sparks. "I can come for one drink. Then I need to get back to writing."
Serena cheers while Georgina merely raises her eyebrows in surprise and says, "One drink always leads to two."
Of course, they failed to mention that the crowd they were meeting at the bar included Chuck Bass, Dan's dearest frenemy. He still could picture in vivid detail the bruise that had bloomed below his eyebrow after Chuck punched him in ninth grade. Still worth it, in Dan's opinion, that sleaze had tried to lure his sixth-grade fresh-faced sister into his bedroom.
Rain Hoffstetter sits next to Dan and laments the lack of a Greek life on campus at Harvard while he pretends to listen. He's regretting agreeing to even the one drink all before Georgina has sidled up next to him.
"So I'm sure Claire has been busy over break." She leans across the bar, a devious smile. "I bet her and Nate have had a lot of lost time to make up for, if you know what I mean."
"We always know what you mean," says Rain with a roll of her eyes.
"Blair," Dan enunciates. "Doesn't have a boyfriend," After realizing that makes him sound like he's taken a vested interest in her love life so he tacks on, "That I know of."
"How have you not noticed her Nate-shrine on her side of our dorm?" Georgina laughs sharply. "You're priceless, Dan. I swear."
"You mean her best friend from high school?" Dan responds. "She has two photos of him up, I'd hardly call that a shrine. And if we're judging the photos up in that room I think a good start would be with the photos of yourself all over your side. I'm pretty sure plastering one's wall with photos of oneself is the definition of vanity."
"Ouch," Georgina mocks indignation. "Here I thought we were friends. Guess you've chosen a side. Well, enjoy being her little temporary distraction until Golden Boy breaks her heart. Then again, you always did love a good philanthropic cause. Speaking of which, S, are you going to the Designer Dresses for the Lesses Gala with me?"
Dan guffaws, "Wouldn't your time be more useful actually spent volunteering rather than drinking expensive cocktails and writing checks that mostly benefit the CEOs of these so-called 'non-profits'?"
"Here we go again," Georgina downs her drink. "I just- I can't with you sometimes, Dan. I really really can't."
"I think that's my cue then," Dan stands and throws cash on the bar for his share of the bar tab. "See you at home, Serena."
"See you, Dan!" Serena responds brightly, willfully ignoring the tension between her stepbrother and best friend.
When he gets home, he texts Blair immediately:
You'll be relieved to know your roommate is still bestowing the East Coast with her generosity, even while on break. Her latest cause? Outfitting the "lesses" (aka anyone who doesn't have a trust fund) in her latest designer castoffs.
It's a while before Blair responds, at least two hours, and he can't help but wonder if she is with Nate. He instantly feels a grudge building toward Georgina for her ability to get in his head.
Lucky them. I'm sure the Peregrine Falcon Foundation misses her donations. Devout attention to that very cause is what got her into Yale.
Dan laughs, remembering all too well the extravagant galas Georgina and Serena hosted on behalf of the bird foundation. He always thought they chose it because it sounded exotic and not too gritty for delicate debutantes. That was an unspoken rule of UES charitability.
As he waits for Blair's next reply, he turns on his laptop. A single glance at his keyboard and he suddenly realizes he has the inspiration to write again.
It seems like all he needed to lift the haze of writer's block was a single dose of Blair.
TBC...