"You should have seen it," I tell Dan as he stirs the balsamic reduction over the stove. I've just arrived at his apartment to find him cooking me dinner and yet my mind is still swimming over the memory of my apartment. "I seriously thought my apartment had been hijacked by movers."

Dan laughs and turns around to press a kiss to my forehead. "Well, I am rather happy with this development. If it gives you more reason to stay here, then I'm all for it. In fact, maybe I'll send over a few documentaries about the impact of the shoe industry on the environment so Serena has a whole other wardrobe section to clear out. I hear shoes are every girl's weakness so she must have dozens to trade out. I estimate that the contents of her shoe collection would take up at least three-quarters of your apartment."

"You're evil," I say with a smile, leaning my head over his shoulder, watching the bubbles as the balsamic comes to a simmer.

"How could I be considered evil?" Dan teases, briefly letting his head lean against mine before returning to cooking. "When I'm doing such a favor for the ecological system?"

I should protest, remind him of my feelings about Brooklyn. But the delicious notion that he wants me here, for as long as possible, is enough to silence my remonstrations. I wrap my arms around his back, instead, letting myself imagine staying here forever.

I know it's too soon, it's only been two weeks. Maybe longer if you count all the date-like hangouts we had before we actually acknowledged our feelings for one another. I should stick to my cynical instincts, the ones that always protect me from heartbreak. But still, the image refuses to leave my mind.

I have a problem.

I pull away suddenly, hoping a bit of distance will qualm my overly romantic notions. I glance around the kitchen, "Anything I can help with?"

"No," Dan shakes his head. "I want you to relax. You've had a long day, what with Serena's called off wedding and now reinvention. You deserve a break,"

My jittery hands say otherwise. "Can I at least set the table?"

"Fine," Dan sighs with a smile as he removes the pot from the heat and transfers the reduction into a dressing bottle. He places the bottle in the fridge, allowing it to chill. "I suppose I can let you do that."

"How was your day?" I say as I return to the kitchen to grab plates after setting out napkins and silverware. "I don't think I asked."

"It was good," Dan says with a frown that contradicts his statement. He catches my questioning gaze and elaborates, "It was another day in the Weddings column. Let's just say that,"

"What, did some couple make your write their vows or something?" I joke to hide my disappointment at yet another hint to his hatred of matrimony. It's a bucket of ice to the warm domestic reveries that had been circulating through my brain just moments ago.

"Something like that," His vague reply comes as he begins drizzling our Caprese salads with the now chilled balsamic reduction.

"Why don't you look for another job? If you dislike your current one so much," I voice the question I've been wondering for a while now.

Dan sets out the platter with a set of tongs and then pours us each a glass of wine. When he looks back up at me, there's a wry expression on his face. "It's not all bad, you know. There are some perks… Like meeting cute brunettes with an Olympian skill for bouquet catches and fast wardrobe changes."

"So you pick up girls at weddings often?" I tease but the pang of jealousy still hits me. He does hate weddings yet has remained a wedding columnist for over 2 years, perhaps he's stuck it out for all the beautiful bridesmaids he gets to meet. I imagine him, coming to a different girl's rescue as she falls to the ground during a too-rowdy bouquet toss and feel a sharp stab of envy. I know my features have twisted, I can't hide my reaction to the train of thought.

Dan looks at me from across the table carefully. "Of course not. Wasn't that clear? I should have said only perk." He focuses his gaze at me pointedly. "You. There's only you. Maybe that's the reason I stay… Because now I feel this weird guilt attachment to the job because it introduced me to you." He shrugs. "Who knows, someday perhaps I'll make a boyish attempt at writing a novel, or even, get promoted to the Weather section. But for now, it's Weddings."

"Weather," I laugh and roll my eyes to hide the creeping in of an emotion I can't quite yet name that was stirred by his reassurances. So I deflect, flipping the conversation topic back to him, instead of us. "You're ridiculously blind to your own talent, Lincoln Hall." I use his pseudonym for emphasis.

He seems to weigh his reply, but when his eyes are on me again, they're a little bit softer and tremendously more determined. "And you're ridiculously blind to my feelings for you."

The weekend in Brooklyn passes by in a blur. We go to another indie theater he thinks I'll love (which I do), spend our mornings at the cafe down the street, and discuss the pros and cons of the borough. It's like he's always trying to convince me that Brooklyn is worth my while. He doesn't need to try though, he's enough of a gravitational pull keeping me firmly planted on Brooklyn soil. So much so that I feel a wave of sadness as I climb into a cab, Manhattan-bound on Sunday after breakfast.

I return home to an empty apartment and feel another pang of loneliness. I remind myself that I just saw Dan thirty minutes ago. No one likes a clingy girlfriend if that's what I am. Then, I think of Serena and wonder what she's up to.

When I reach the guest room, I discover it looks a bit more like it's pre-Serena state. The closet is nearly emptied, so much so I feel a momentary flicker of panic that the apartment has been robbed of all designer clothing and all persons named Serena van der Woodsen. I look around warily, "S?" I call even though she's not in sight.

"I'm in your bathroom," I hear her distant reply echo through the hallway. "I hope you don't mind, I was just using your bathtub."

She steps out of the master bathroom with a towel wrapped around her and another one in her hands, blotting her damp blonde hair. "I got the most amazing essential oils and had to try them, I left them on the counter for you. It's a much better alternative to artificially scented bubble baths and soaking salts." She says with an informed air.

Ah, so eco-Serena lives on. I nod, "Thank you, I'll… consider them."

"Oh, B." She suddenly wraps her arms around me and the scent of lavender and bergamot floods my nostrils. At least new Serena smells good, I had feared otherwise. "You have no idea how good it is to see you."

I suddenly feel guilty, "I'm sorry for not being around much these past few days. Anything from Nate yet?"

She shakes her head sadly. "But it's okay. I'm glad you're spending so much time with Dan. You deserve to." She suddenly starts inspecting me with a tilt of her head. "Look how good it is for you, I don't think I've ever seen your complexion so glowy."

I bring a hand up to my cheek and touch it, as though I need to confirm it through touch even though my emotions prove her point. I feel a coy smile come to my lips, "I feel it."

"Come on," She tugs me toward the living room. "Go sit on the couch while I put on a robe and then you can tell me all about your weekend with Dan."

After I finish recounting my weekend to Serena, I turn the attention back to her. "How goes your eco transformation?"

"Great! Feel my robe," She offers her baby blue-sleeved arm. "It's bamboo."

"Soft," I comment, suppressing a smirk. "So what's next in your green overhaul?"

"I started looking at jobs at non-profits, actually."

"You did?" I can't fight back my tone of surprise. I didn't realize she was so serious about this new commitment to the Earth. For as long as I've known her, Serena has been flighty. With relationships, cities, and her sense of style. Even the marriage to Nate, I had figured was the latest in her phase. Housewife Serena. But now, eco Serena seems to be here to stay. "What about modeling?"

"27 isn't exactly the prime age for modeling." Serena looks a little wounded. "I kept booking less and less jobs and then my agent started suggesting I look into some 'youth-regenerating procedures.' I always knew it would run up someday, I just hadn't expected it to be before I hit 30. So I hopped the next plane back here, hoping I could stall my impending retirement from modeling a little longer…"

I nod, her impromptu long-stay in the city finally making sense to me. "A new career could be exciting. Besides, now you can finally put that Ivy League degree to use!" I try to sound encouraging.

"Exactly!" She perks up. "Look over my resume for me?" She asks hopefully.

"Of course," I reply automatically. "Maybe I'll look over the positions you'll be applying to while I'm out it. I just want to make sure you won't be pestering me at the grocery store to fight the war on plastic or something like that. Not that it's not a noble effort," I add on hastily.

"Oh, B." She gives me a sideways look. "I would never. I mean those scratchy cotton tees in putrid green would hardly go with my faux-suede Stella McCartney boots."

My hand is cramped as I pack up my Saint Laurent tote in the office boardroom. I've spent the entire day dutifully note-taking the meetings Nate and I have been subjected to going over the rollout of the latest ebook redesign. It's been strictly business between Nate and I the past week and I expect the pattern to continue.

But then, he brings up the unspoken subject between us. "How's Serena?"

"She's good," I reply chirpily. "I'm helping her with job applications tonight, in fact."

"New modeling contract?" Nate asks, tapping a pen against the boardroom table.

"No," I shake my head. "She's pursuing other opportunities actually. A non-profit." I keep it vague, not wanting to sound calculated.

At this, Nate's face lights up with interest. "Really?"

"You should ask her about it yourself," I slip my bag onto my shoulder. "I'm sure she'd love to tell you."

"Blair," Nate seemingly reads my vagueness as agitation. "I know it was harsh of me to postpone the wedding. It just was such a shock, to find out she hadn't been honest with me. I couldn't marry someone I didn't even really know."

"Nate, I completely understand your decision." I fix my brown eyes on him firmly. "But I don't understand you icing her out. She deserves a chance to let you get to know the real Serena, doesn't she? Unless you aren't interested in her anymore, in which case I think you tell her. So she doesn't waste her time waiting around for you."

I suddenly remember we're at work and fear I've overstepped. I quickly add, "Sorry if that sounds harsh. I wouldn't want this to affect our working relationship so perhaps it's best if we don't discuss this."

Nate nods, "I'm sorry, Blair. I shouldn't have brought it up. I just… miss her." He rakes a hand through his hair, looking a little torn. "But you're right and don't worry, I appreciate your honesty. It won't be a problem."

I bring my most business-like smile to my face and collect the rest of my things, stepping out of the glass door. But before I let it close I turn back. "If you miss her, you should tell her. I'm sure she'd be happy to hear from you."

Once the door is closed behind me, I finally notice Georgina who's been eavesdropping. "Now you're actually helping their relationship?" Her tone is incredulous. "I miss the old Blair that would cook up schemes to make people's lives worse not better."

"I didn't do that," I reply defensively. "Name one time,"

"Last year at the Christmas party when we paid the intern to ask out Penelope and say he'd 'always wanted to date an older woman.' She booked a botox appointment immediately after." Her eyebrows raise, "Should I name more? Because I have about a dozen examples."

"Fine," I relent, following her to the elevator. "Maybe there were a few times I might have plotted a misery-inciting event for one of my enemies. But it was wrong."

Georgina rolls her eyes and pushes the button for the lobby. "If you tell me you're joining Serena on her eco-revolution I swear I'll book you into the nearest mental ward for a psych evaluation."

I wave off Georgina's fears and hail two cabs so we can each go our separate ways for the evening.

When I get home, Serena looks like she's overdosed on her "Happy Fix" essential oil blend. "B!" She steps forward excitedly. "Nate texted me saying he wants to get lunch together tomorrow. He said he misses me."

I quirk a brow, feigning surprise, "Did he?"

"Yeah," She smiles broadly. "Help me pick out an outfit? I haven't been this nervous since our first date."

A mere seven weeks ago, I think to myself with an inward smirk. "Of course. But then we have to work on your resume so you're ready for your interview on Thursday."

"Okay okay," She drags me by the hand to the closet.

"Hey," I say suddenly remembering. "I forgot to ask. Do you mind if Dan comes over tomorrow night?"

"It's your apartment, of course not." Serena says while retrieving a few pieces from the closet. "Oh! We can all watch Plastic Paradise together!" She watches my expression morph into one of apprehension and laughs. "Kidding, I'll be out of the apartment. I'll go get dinner with Poppy or something."

"Thanks, S." I turn my attention to the grey maxi dress in her hand. "Not that one, it's too casual. Try these," I pull a floral floaty skirt from the rack and pair it with a turquoise silk tank. Although upon closer inspection this doesn't appear to be real silk, more likely some recycled fiber instead, but it still works.

"That's perfect! And for your accessory, just bring that reusable water bottle. It'll impress Nate." I say a moment later as she does a little twirl in the outfit. "Now, time for a professional makeover."

I scrub the kitchen counter furiously on Tuesday night, even though the maid was here two days ago. Serena wrenches the cloth from my hand and lays a hand on my shoulder. "Relax, B. It's spotless in here, not that Dan would even care if it wasn't. Just go chill on the couch until he gets here."

I give her a cool look as if to say, Chill?

"Okay, then, have wine and reorganize your bookshelf or something. You're going to mess up your manicure if you do anymore scrubbing. Oh and you should really swap cleaning products by the way, the fumes alone are completely toxic." She places a glass of wine in front of me. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you nervous about a guy before."

"Sure I have been," I contradict. "James?"

She shakes her head, "No way, I think you were more worried about if his outfits matched yours rather than his feelings. Which were neutral, anyway. Besides, you already know Dan likes you. He's your boyfriend, what's there to stress about?"

"No he's not," I say, taking a sip of the wine. "I don't know what we are,"

"But he basically is,"

"Not the same thing, S." I look at the clock and she follows my gaze.

"I should go," She reaches for her purse on the hook by the door. "I don't want to third wheel you guys. I'll see you later. Have fun with-"

There's a knock on the door and she gives me an excitedly speculative glance. "Should I sneak down the fire escape?"

"No," I scoff at her absurd suggestion. "He knows you live here." I step around her and open the front door, feeling a release of butterflies in my solar plexus.

"Hey," Dan presses a smile against my lips. "You look beautiful."

I open the door fully and he steps in and finally notices Serena. I register what a rare thing that is, for someone to notice me before Serena. "Hi, Serena."

"Hey Dan!" She gives him a friendly hug and then waves to me. "See you later, B."

"Tell Poppy I say hi," I reply neutrally as she sets out the front door.

"I must admit," He starts to say. "I was rather hoping she'd stick around and educate us on the proper way to sort our recycling. I thought it would really set the mood."

"I can call her back," I smirk placing my hands on his shoulders and slowly guiding him backward toward the living room. "I'm sure she'd love to demo reading recycling codes for us. I really could use a refresher on which can plastics number four goes in."

Dan falls against the couch softly as I slide easily onto his lap. His lips capture mine and between kisses, he says, "I think I'll pass tonight. I need to save an excuse to come back over tomorrow night."

I keep my forehead pressed against his, letting the warmth of his skin flood into mine. "You don't need an excuse."

"No?" His fingers trace loops against my bare arms. "That's a relief. Because I already know which is which and I'd feel a little cruel tricking Serena into thinking she's educating me."

"Of course you do," I roll my eyes. "It's probably was a prerequisite before they let you move into the complex, wasn't it? Seems a very Brooklynite thing to know."

"That and owning a typewriter," He replies smoothly.

"Well," I lean back a little to survey him, keeping my arms wrapped him. "What shall we do now that we decided to procrastinate saving the world?"

He lets a hand come up to my hair and he softly guides me back toward him. "This,"

Our lips touch once more and the world fades away.

TBC...

I hope you all liked this chapter! It seemed time for a lighthearted, angst-free chapter so hence the all-around happiness in this one. Next chapter will be more plot-focused though. I hope to update within the next week or so.

Thank you so much for reading and your reviews are always greatly appreciated!