DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters and the universe this story is set in are from Gossip Girl.

"Dan?"

"Yeah, Dad, what's up?"

"How's business today?"

"Pretty calm on my end. This couple looked interested in one of Mitchel's paintings a few minutes ago. They'll call back on Monday."

"Which one?"

"The one that looks like an omelet is giving a pear a ha…"

"Dan," his father warned, only to hear his son laugh.

"Just calling it like I see it, Dad." He was fixing up coffee filters when he noticed the sound of traffic all over his father's voice. "I hear a lot of street noise; are you on your way?"

"Not really, that's why I called you. I had the wrong address for the exhibit – well, right address, wrong exhibit; it's a long story –"

"I'll bet."

"– so I'm going to run a bit late. Would you mind picking up your sister and arranging some dinner for you two? I'll meet you back at the loft."

"Sure. Where is she supposed to be again?" he asks, shouldering a messenger bag and picking up the gallery keys.

"Her sewing workshop," his father answers calmly, as if that was enough. Man, I love you, but sometimes…

"Pretty big city, Dad. Any specific coordinates?" he smirks and is instantly glad his father can't see it through the phone.

"Right, that's on 3rd, almost at 94th – it's close to a pet shop, easy to find."

Dan stops on his tracks, getting his bearings. UES, Jenny, really? "Couldn't she find a sewing school closer to home?"

"You know Jenny; if it's worth doing it, it's worth overdoing it."

"For the last time, Dad; quoting rock stars really doesn't get your point across as well as you think it does." He pauses. "Although I will admit – just this once, because exceptions are needed in rules – that Jenny would say something like that."

Both men nod simultaneously to Dan's statement and his father laughs over the phone. "I'll change my wisdom quotes when you stop smirking. It was cute when you were little; not so much these days."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Later, Dan walks out of the subway chewing an apple. According to the texts exchanged with his sister, he still has a little time left and decides to walk the rest of the way, scouting for possibly affordable places to eat around the area – although he'd favor returning to Brooklyn first and dining there, he knows his sister would appreciate the gesture. She loves this scene; Daniel (most of the time) just endures it.

It also gives him time to study the people around him and "create" personalities around their appearances – it's good fun, if not a perfect character study. People are, after all, more than meets the eye.

As soon as he plays those words over in his head, he sees a stocky little woman stumble her way out of a shop, her hands holding more than it's physically possible with only ten fingers. Her eyes are wide and studying her surroundings as if she's in a hurry. The woman takes two efficient steps to the right, only to turn back around and head left (towards Dan), hitting two people with the edges of her bags and allowing one of her purchases to fall on the ground.

Faster in reaction than situation assessment, Dan grabs the bag only to see the woman staring at him in shock. The hand that's still fully loaded clutches the handles and she looks ready to whack Dan with them. His eyes dart at her hand and widen in panic.

"No, no, no, no, I'm not trying to steal it!" He puts his other hand (still holding the apple) between them and her eyes narrow suspiciously in turn.

"Contrary to popular belief, there are good people in this city. Here," he offers the hefty volume back, and the woman looks at him with a blend of admiration and sadness when she looks at the weight about to be returned to her. With those extra seconds to study the person in front of him, Dan notices she's impeccably dressed, but the attire itself implies she works with household affairs of some sort. And there's a likeable aura about the woman that tells Dan he'd like to know her stories.

He has been wrong before, though.

"Or you can hand me those as well and I can help you; do you have to go very far?" he blurts, instantly feeling like he's pushing his luck. She looks at him once, twice, sizing up the boy wearing a hoodie under a much worn jacket, from his shoes to his unkempt hair. The woman appears to be confident she can take him down if the need arises; Dan doesn't doubt she can.

"I still have some dry-cleaning to pick up," she says with a hint of suspicion in her voice and a load of Central Europe accent to go with it.

"That's okay."

They stay there staring at each other until Dan smiles; while women can be intimidating in a number of ways to him, fearing a beatdown from a smaller, housemaid-looking lady is just something that doesn't happen every day, and it's happening to him, and the whole thing is just funny. A minute later the rest of his apple enters a trashcan and he's got both hands full of shopping bag, earning continuous staring from his "companion".

"What is your name?" she asks as they cross the street.

"I'm Daniel. Dan." I have to stop doing that.

He looks at her expectantly. "Dorota," she says simply, and Dan smiles even more.

"Your parents must have been waiting a long time for you."

Her quick, small steps pause, and it's amazing how much she can inquire with just her eyes.

"Your name," Dan says, waiting to see if it sparks a conversation; nothing from her end. "Dorota – it derives from Dorothea, which is the feminine form of Dorotheos – "gift of God". That's what your name means – well, kind of."

Dorota still looks at him, silent.

"Which is why I said your parents –"

" – You talk a lot," she interrupts him, smiling the thinnest of smiles as she resumes her path.

"I have been known to do that," he admits, catching up.

Dan assists Dorota for the next half hour, extracting little to no information about herself or her origins. He does seem to amuse her, it seems; the barrage of nonsense he can pull from random things happening around them gets her to laugh once or twice, and Dan is pleased; considering the unusual situation they're in, that she accepts his company is certainly more than enough.

"We stay here," she finally proclaims, pointing at a fancy apartment building to their left.

"We?" and he has to rush behind her to enter the elevator.

Clearly she already accepts my arms as extra hangers.

No sooner the doors are open, Dorota is giving orders in rapid succession and two, three extra servants remove Dan of all the bags he's holding. It's all so quick and deliberate action that doesn't require any input from him that he really feels like a piece of furniture before Dorota turns to him, satisfied.

"Well? Don't just stand there, come!" and disappears to the left, forcing him to, again, run after her, not paying much attention to the apartment he's entering.

"Actually, Dorota, I should probably go, I still have to meet my … what is this?"

She's holding an open box filled with fancy little cakes. Her eyes are kinder than they were when Dan met her, and she smiles like a mother would to a son. "To thank for help. And take one for your sister! Go on, now!"

For once, Dan is speechless. He smiles back, chooses two of the cakes and nods. "That's incredibly kind, Dorota, thank you."

"Nie, dziękuję!" she's quick to answer, and Dan makes a mental note to study a bit of Slavic languages.

He never sees the brunette with a fancy headband entering the building after he crosses the street.

The boy finds Jenny already waiting for him. Her impatience lasts only the seconds it takes for Dan to show her the candy, put an arm around her shoulder and ask her where she wants to have dinner.

AUTHOR NOTE: I love Dorota – who doesn't, really? Feel free to contribute with ideas for chapters/scenes; this is pretty open-ended as it is, and I'll do my best to add what I can, when I can into the frame. Thanks for taking the time to read it, review if you'd like. I hope you have a blessed week.