The next time Blair sees Dan it's unexpected.
She returns to Paris and is back to the office the next day, trying to get caught up on meetings, and she ends up staying late at the office night after night, eating takeout ordered by her assistant, pouring over designs, trying to get everything ready for fashion week.
There's barely any time to think about Dan, but still, he's rarely far from her thoughts. He has a strange way of creeping into her head at the oddest moments, and even if Blair brushes him away, he comes back.
Things aren't quite the same as they were before New York. Blair used to like the busy-ness. She liked working late and waking early and having her time filled with conference calls and important decisions, eating out of plastic to go containers and having nothing in her fridge. It felt like the trappings of success. Now it all feels a little hollow. Like there's something missing.
Blair collapses into bed every night and that's when she misses him, and she wants to hear his voice, but Dan had said day by day, and that means there is no tomorrow. And he's not here. He's in California and she's in Paris, and it's starting to feel like New York might have been a figment of her imagination.
That's why when there's a knock on her door one night, a few weeks after her return from Serena and Nate's wedding, a few weeks after Dan walked back into her life and back out of it, Blair opens it and her mouth falls open in surprise.
It's Dan.
He's standing in the hallway of her apartment building, wearing a sheepish grin, holding a manilla envelope.
"Dan?" Blair says, "What the hell?"
It's late and she had just changed into her pajamas and was about to climb into bed after checking the figures for the quarterly report one more time. And now she's standing, clutching her robe tightly around her, staring at Dan. Dan who is supposed to be in California.
"I wrote a story for you." he says, as if that explains why he's standing outside her apartment at almost midnight.
"Dan..."
"...and I really wanted you to read it, because I just can't get you out of my head, and I think it's really good, and you've always been my muse..."
"...Daniel..."
"...so I thought I'd bring it by."
"Daniel Randolf Humphrey!"
Her voice is sharp but Blair is smiling, from ear to ear, and the muscles in her face hurt but she can't stop. As she says his full name, she flies into his arms, covering his face with kisses.
"Hey," Dan says softly, looking at her, his eyes warm and happy. "a person might think you missed me."
She didn't know how much until she opened the door to find him standing there. Yes, she had missed him.
"That person might be right. Come in," Blair says, taking Dan by the hand and dragging him inside her apartment. He looks around, taking in the high ceilings and paned windows that reveal a view of the Eiffel Tower, the skylights that show a clear, almost a cobalt blue sky with a crescent moon hanging low, that will pour in natural light with the rising of the sun. It's an impressive space.
"This is nice." Dan says. "It's very, um, Blair."
"It's home." Blair says. Mine. And yours, if you want it to be, she thinks, and the thought makes Blair blush. She's still holding his hand and they end up on one of the modern cream leather couches in her living room. She can't stop looking at him, can't believe that he's here. With her. In Paris.
"I thought you had to be back in California."
Dan shrugs. Blair is still smiling like a fool. She feels thirteen again, and she likes a boy, and he likes her back. Absolute fool.
"I did, but the studio can wait for the final version of the adaptation I'm working on, chalk it up to that crazy writer they hired." He hands her the manilla envelope. Blair takes it and turns it over a couple times in her hands. "I wanted to see you."
Blair feels like she might burst.
"You must be tired." she says. Dan nods. Blair tells him he can take the guest room and, still holding his hand, she gets up off the couch then pulls him to a stand. She leads him down the hallway and shows him where the towels are, tells him he can get a snack later if he wants but there isn't much in the fridge, and she makes a mental note to have her assistant stock her pantry in the morning. She asks if he has any luggage and Dan shakes his head 'no', so she promises to get him something to wear in the morning. Then she lets go of his hands and slips her arms around his waist and presses herself against him.
"I'm so glad you came." Blair whispers into Dan's shirt, and the tears are too close to the surface, and Blair doesn't want to cry. Not when she's so happy. Dan bends down and he's kissing her, slowly, sweetly, and Blair feels that familiar electricity shoot through her, but she ignores it, telling herself that there is time. She'll wake up in the morning and Dan will be there and it will be a new day.
The pull apart and Blair says goodnight and Dan kisses her once on the forehead.
"Glad to be here, Waldorf."
She shuts the guest bedroom door and pads down the hallway back into the living room. The envelope is lying on the couch where she'd left it. She picks it up and pulls out a small stack of pages covered with words. She grabs a blanket and covers herself with it and starts to read.
It's a story of love and loss, about rediscovery, and it's so beautifully written that Blair's heart hurts as she reads it. The clock clicks past 1 am and she knows she's going to be exhausted in the morning and she has a long day ahead of her, but she can't stop reading. It's the most amazing love letter she's ever received.
When she is done reading, Blair puts down the pages and there are tears in her eyes. She goes into her office and pulls up her email and sends an email to her assistant. She asks her to come by tomorrow and stock her kitchen. She requests that she drop by some croissants in the morning, telling her to use the spare key and be quiet. She tells her that she won't be into the office the next day and to reschedule all her appointments.
When she's done, Blair shuts her laptop and stands up, knowing full well what she's doing next. She pads back down the hallway towards the guest room and stands outside the closed door. The, taking a deep breath, she turns the handle and walks into the room.
It's dark and she can hear Dan breathing in the stillness. Blair unties her robe and drops it into a chair in the corner. Worried about tripping, she makes her way carefully to the bed and pulls back the covers. She slips under the covers and scoots over until she's nestled into Dan's side, his warmth radiating, and she realizes that he's not wearing a shirt and he only has boxer shorts on, and his skin is against hers, and it's lovely. Just lovely.
Dan stirs and mumbles her name, then he's waking up a little and peering at her in the darkness. Her face is close to his, inches apart, and she wants to kiss him, but she doesn't.
"Blair?" he asks.
"Thank you," Blair whispers, taking his hand in hers, tangling her legs with his, "thank you for writing such a beautiful story, and thank you for delivering it in person."
Blair turns over and he is pressed into her back, his lips kissing the nape of her neck.
"You are my muse." Dan whispers sleepily, his words a little slurred. Blair closes her eyes and she feels her body relax in his arms, and they fall asleep like that, pressed against each other, curled around each other, Dan's arm around her waist, his hand in hers.
Sun is pouring through the skylight when Blair wakes up. Dan is still asleep and she can feel his chest rising and falling against her back.
Blair smiles.
She carefully frees herself, sliding out from under Dan's sleep-heavy arm, slipping out of bed and quietly heading toward the kitchen.
There is food in the fridge and croissants arranged on a plate on the kitchen counter, as well as a fresh pot of coffee brewing, and Blair makes a mental note to thank her assistant. She pours herself a cup of coffee and grabs her iPad to check the morning news. It feels like any other day, except Dan is sleeping in her guest room and they've spent the night in each others arms.
Life can be so strange.
She finishes her coffee and bites into a croissant, savoring the flakey, buttery pastry. Blair eats half of it then puts it on a plate and heads toward her bedroom to take a shower and get dressed. She stands in the shower, letting the warm water run over her, lost in thought and happy.
Blair has been happy since New York.
She grabs a fluffy white towel and dries off, then Blair goes to her closet, her hair still dripping a little, and picks out an outfit. Instead of her usual business attire, she picks out a simple dress, something she will be comfortable in. Then she rubs moisturizer all over and brushes out her hair, and finally she's ready for the day.
Dan is awake when she returns to the kitchen. He's wearing the same clothes he arrived in, a little rumpled from their night on the guest room floor, and drinking his own cup of coffee. He looks up when she walks into the room.
"So?" he says, watching her walk across the room and settle into a stool next to him.
"So." Blair mirrors. Statement following question, waiting to see what Dan wants.
"How did you sleep," he asks. It's the same question he asked her in New York. This time she has a different answer.
"Like a baby."
It seems that Dan's arms around her lead to the perfect, dreamless, deep sleep that often eludes her. She wants to tell him they should consider making this a permanent arrangement, but that feels like too much, too soon.
"That was nice," Dan says, taking another drink of coffee. "And a little surprising."
"What did you expect, Humphrey?" Blair quips. "You write a beautiful story, fly across continents and oceans to deliver it, and you think I'm going to leave you alone after that?"
Dan smiles. Blair's heart floats again. How can he do this to her over and over again?
"A person might think I'm a total fool in love."
Blair's breath catches in her throat. She feels herself coming undone with his words. Total fools. Both of them.
"They might." she manages to answer evenly. And if a person happened to think that, they would be entirely correct. She was entirely foolish and entirely in love. But she doesn't say this to Dan, because it's not time. Not yet.
They eat and talk more, Blair telling him she is taking the day off, Dan telling her that he has to be back in California tomorrow. They have just this one day. It's New York all over again. Blair wants more, but she doesn't say anything, because this isn't about tomorrow or wanting more. It's about here and now. It's about this very moment, sitting in her Paris apartment, talking, reconnecting, planning their day. They have lost too much for it to be anything else, but as much as Blair wants more, she's also happy with what she has. Being happy with what you have is part of growing up.
"So," she finally says to Dan, after they have decided to hit up the Louvre, and then the ballet that night, and Blair will take Dan to the airport the next morning. Blair's question is mischievious and she's smiling, "is this our second date?"
Dan's eyebrows go up. He knows what she's asking. She knows what his answer will be, but she asks anyway.
"Well, I guess so." he says slyly, a smile playing around his lips, "but I'm still not putting out, Waldorf. Keep dreaming because I'm not that easy."
Blair laughs. Dan laughs back. They finish their coffee and head out to spend a day in Paris together.
TBC