Somebody That I Used To Know

II

Summary: Serena ignores. Chuck blames. Nate hates. Dan runs. Blair emerges from the rubble of her past unscathed, but when she meets a mysterious bartender with a familiar face, will her world turn upside down once more? Post-GG.

After a short ten minute journey through the concrete jungle that is Manhattan, the black town car pulls up in front of 25 E. 77th Street. Colloquially known as The Mark, the luxury hotel is nestled in the heart of the Upper East Side and regularly hosts a motley assortment of wealthy individuals: investment bankers, fashion designers, renowned journalists. Blair has called the Penthouse Extraordinaire - a 5-bedroom, 7-bathroom space consuming the topmost floor of the hotel - home for the past three years. Although the penthouse had originally been an impulse buy following the divorce, Blair had quickly come to appreciate the under-ten-minute commute both the gallery and to the Met.

Heels clicking sharply across the marble floor of the lobby, Blair gives a curt "hello" to the doorman before punching in her passcode on the silver plate near the elevator. The doors slide open, granting Blair access, and soon she reaches the top floor. Blair can hear D'Artagnan's little nails tap dancing across the floor as she digs in her Birkin for her keys. No sooner does she push the door open does the furry canine leap forward, both forepaws landing on Blair's thighs.

"Down!" Blair commands as she flicks the foyer light on. D'Artagnan obeys, his nub of tail wagging furiously as he awaits affection from his owner. Setting her purse down on the hallway table, she bends down and scratches the dog behind his ears before reviewing the checklist of chores completed today by her maid Sylvia. Pleased with the work done by the young Polish maid as of late, Blair makes a mental note to give her a raise as she takes off her shoes and pads towards her bedroom.

Shades of celadon and gold permeate every aspect of the room, from the plush carpet to the wanescotted ceiling. The walls are adorned with various paintings, mainly of French artists. Two vases of peonies sit on walnut nightstands on either side of the California king bed, introducing a pleasant floral scent into the air. The main accent of the room is a large gold-coated vanity, an heirloom from great-grandmother Waldorf that had been stashed away by Harold until recently. Blair had designed the room to evoke a sense of tranquility and elegance, and tranquil and elegant it is.

Blair slips into a pale pink nightgown before sitting down in front of the vanity. She begins plucking bobby pins from her hair, soft curls falling around her shoulders one by one. As she observes herself in the mirror, Blair contemplates tonight's interaction. More specifically, she contemplates Dean and his obvious ability to get under her skin in the worst – or is it the best? – possible way. Blair can't help the giddy smile that spreads across her face as she recalls Dean's effortless charisma and natural ability to match wits with her. As she considers these qualities, Blair realizes that maybe Dean shares more in common with Dan Humphrey than an uncanny resemblance. The connection she'd had with the bartender had been physical, intellectual, emotional. It had raised the hairs on the back of her neck like static electricity and had scared her because it had awakened something within her she'd thought she'd lost forever. Indeed, Blair finds her heart thundering in her throat the very thought of Dean Harrison.

Running a brush through her hair, Blair sighs, elation dimming at the reminder of her current situation. So what if Dean turns me on? The brunette is well aware of the fact that she hasn't been intimate or so much as flirted with a man in years. Hell, she isn't sure she's even capable of opening up to someone like that anymore. Blair's miscarriage had been accompanied by the loss of her desire to be close to anyone and, as tragic of a realization as it had been at the time, Blair is now used to it. Besides, she rationalizes; I'll probably never see him again.

She is convinced, because she has first-hand experience with disappearing acts and coincidence. Her mind immediately shifts to Dan Humphrey, who had still been wholly in love with her when he had vanished from the Upper East Side after the Waldorf-Bass wedding a decade ago. He hadn't left so much as a letter to anyone; even Gossip Girl's intel had turned up nothing (though by that time, the group hadn't provided much gossip fodder for the mystery blogger anyway).

After all of these years, Blair still wonders from time to time "what if?". Her attraction to Chuck had been, for the most part, physical and monetary, though the two had shared an inexplicable emotional bond that had kept them coming back to one another despite all of the unspeakable things that happened in their relationship (mostly as a result of Chuck's poor decisions). Dan, though, he'd opened Blair's mind and showed her that love could be kind and gentle and honest. He'd taught Blair that passion wasn't always raging flames, but was sometimes instead embers slow-burning quietly in the background of the world's chaos.

As Blair sets her boar-bristled brush down on the vanity, she feels an overwhelming shroud of loneliness drape itself over her shoulders, weighing her down. Deciding to call it a night instead of ponder every memory she's ever made, Blair walks to her bed and tosses the decorative throw pillows to the floor. Curling up in bed beneath her down comforter, Blair feels D'Artagnan jump onto the mattress. She pats the bed and the dog circles around the blanket before settling down besides his owner. The dog sighs through his wet nose as he rests his chin on Blair's pillow. "Night Tannie," she whispers as she turns off the light.

Light filters through the thin drapes as the sun makes its appearance in Manhattan. Blair groans as D'Artagnan licks her cheek before whining to go out. She leans over, looks at the clock to see 9:00 AM staring back at her. Sitting up, Blair swings her legs over the bed and takes a moment before accepting the daunting task of getting out of bed.

D'Artagnan trails behind her as Blair plucks an outfit from her closet and ambles to the shower. When she's done, Blair changes into a pair of ankle-length pixie pants and a crisp white blouse. She styles her hair into a quick French twist and spritzes perfume on her neck. Once final glance in the mirror and she is ready to start her day.

Slipping the Louis Vuitton collar around D'Artagnan's neck and attaching the matching leash, Blair makes her way downstairs and out onto the busy Madison Avenue sidewalk. Saturday mornings are designated by long walks through Central Park, and the wheaten-colored pup leads, knowing exactly where to go. The brunette and her dog stroll leisurely beneath the cloudless October sky, a brisk wind rustling the hem of Blair's blouse here and there.

They're passing beneath Greyshot Arch when D'Artagnan begins to pull at his leash in an effort to reach the teeny Pomeranian up ahead. "Tannie!" Blair scolds, yanking back on the leash. The dog, more clever than most, comes to a halt before scootching backwards out of his collar. Before Blair knows it, he's galloping towards the little Pomeranian at full speed.

Blair runs after him (though Manolos aren't conducive to physical activity), and catches up to D'Artagnan just as the Pomeranian's owner kneels down to pet him. Both dogs are more curious than anything, and begin sniffing one another before exchanging licks.

"I'm so sorry," Blair apologizes to the woman as she bends down and slips the collar back over the Wheaten Terrier. "He's not usually like this, but I - " Blair stops mid-sentence when she turns to face the crouching woman on the pathway.

The woman is stunningly beautiful, despite the presence of deep smiles lines etched more so by the sun than by the hands of time. Lush golden waves cascade down her shoulders, framing her face seamlessly. Her eyes, a fierce blue, widen dramatically as she meets Blair's gaze.

Serena van der Woodsen hasn't changed a day.

Blair's stomach drops to the floor as she is faced with her old friend. She's so utterly stunned by the sight that the only thing she can think of to say is "I - I didn't know you got a dog."

Nice one, Blair. The brunette cringes visibly.

Serena's expression turns to stone. "A lot has changed in three years," the blonde responds coolly as she stands up, hand fluttering over the rounded hump of her belly.

"You're pregnant?" Blair asks, shocked.

"And I even know the father," Serena replies curtly, enormous engagement ring sparkling in the sun.

Blair's cheeks turn a violent shade of red. "I deserved that," she admits.

"Yeah, you did."

The next few moments are tense as the two women stand in uncomfortable silence. Blair feels so suffocated that she almost walks away, but instead, she holds her ground and, surprising them both, is the first one to speak. "I told you I was sorry, S. I meant it then and I mean it now. I took my anger out on you because of Chuck and…" She doesn't mean for it to happen, but her eyes dart to Serena's pregnant stomach. Flicking her gaze upward, she shrugs meekly. "You know."

"To even think that after being best friends for our whole lives that I would ever, ever wish something so horrible on you, I – " Serena stops, shakes her head in agitation. "You know, I really don't think now is an appropriate time to be doing this," she says. Her expression softens a bit when she notices the stricken look on the brunette's face. The wheels are turning in the blonde's head as another bout of silence fills the air. After a long moment, Serena sighs in defeat. "Look, Blair, if you really want to settle things once and for all, meet me for dinner at Per Se on Monday. I leave town on Wednesday and won't be back for a long time. If not, I'm done. Just done. I can't keep thinking about this."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Blair says softly before pausing. "If you don't mind me asking, where are you going?"

"Home." A wispy cobweb of a smile flutters across Serena's face before fading. "My fiance and I moved to New Haven a year ago." She shifts from one foot to the other, not quite knowing what to say next. "I thought someone would have told you."

Ah, New Haven, keeper of Ivy League dreams. Blair can't help but feel a little twinge of jealousy given the fact that she'd royally screwed up her only opportunity to move there. "Wow," she says, trying to impart warmth despite feeling utterly frozen. "A lot really has changed."

Serena shrugs, sheepish and obviously uncomfortable with having to break the news to her former friend. She clears her throat and changes the subject. "So, dinner on Monday. Yes or no?"

Though already Blair senses the cold grip of inferiority on her mind, she puts on a confident face and smiles brightly. "Absolutely."

A/N: I'm thrilled with the response to the story and am so glad there are still some readers out there! Thank you to all who reviewed! A couple of things I wanted to address:

1. Dean will be central to the story. We will learn his backstory, who he is as a person. To everyone who is wanting to know if he's an OC or an undercover Dan or what... That will be one of the things that will become obvious as the story progresses.

2. I'm operating on the idea that Gossip Girl wasn't Dan, because, well, that was a dumb resolution to the show. GG doesn't play a huge part in this story by any means but I want to avoid confusion.

Alright, enough rambling. I'll try to have chapters coming out once a week or so. I can't guarantee, because life happens, but I'll do my best.

-C