So for those of you in the know, you'll recognise certain parts of this story from The Philadelphia Story and Friends. :)


"I see the honesty that chimes in you and I'm impressed that it's still hanging around."

- Strike a Chord, Charlene Kaye

Blair flinched at the look on Dan's face; an unmasked mix of pain, regret and intense sadness that she didn't think she had ever seen before. She looked away but she acted too late: it was already burned into her minds eye, like ugly artwork to be forever displayed in a spotlight. She heard him clear his throat and when she looked back, his expression was one of indifference but his eyes were glazed. He looked like he'd been shot or punched in the gut and a twinge of guilt flew through the tiny brunette.

They had been friends for nearly a year. Actual friends, not fake friends or friends with benefits or even friends like she and Serena were friends; Dan and Blair were friends the way ordinary people were friends, if not even a little closer. They went to see movies together, they had lunch every Friday and neither had slept in the own home without the other for months now. Serena had once asked if they were dating and while answer had been no, Blair hadn't been so sure at the time. She had toyed with the idea of them for a while but had dismissed it as a passing fancy; when two people spent as much time together as they did, it was only natural to speculate and wonder about something more. However, when Louis appeared back in New York, asking for a second chance, the idea that she had feelings for Cabbage Patch disappeared completely. And so here she was, explaining to her best friend that she was getting married and he looked as if someone had just kidnapped his first-born.

His mouth opened and closed wordlessly, his eyes brimming in tears and looking so lost. Blair didn't know what to say. She wanted to make it right, make him smile but whatever she said now would just make it worse, if anything. He seemed to realize that he had been staring at her in silence, so he sniffed wetly and wiped the back of his hand across his nose and mouth and walked in a slow circle. His movements were jittery and his hands shook violently.

"You're leaving to go to Paris to marry Louis, Prince Louis. Am I hearing this right?" he asked slowly, pronouncing every syllable as if he were a child struggling to understand the concept of addition. She cringed inwardly at the sound of his voice breaking midway through his sentence but nodded all the same. Dan shook his head.

"So, what? You're going to go and become some princess? You're going to fill your life up with royal banquets and correct etiquette and learn how to wave at your adoring kingdom?" he spat bitterly and flung his arms wide. He was angry, terribly so. He couldn't fathom how she could do this or why she would marry someone she had only known for a handful of months. She closed her eyes and sighed sadly.

"I had hoped you would be supportive of th-"

"Supportive? Supportive! How can I possibly be supportive of this?"

"Please don't-"

"Don't what?" he paused, "Don't what, Blair? Don't be mad? Don't yell? Please, by all means, tell me what exactly it is that I'm supposed to not do here cause I'm at a loss," he yelled. She felt naked, like he could see every inch of her skin because for the first time in knowing Dan Humphrey she was actually afraid of him. For once he was angry for himself, angry at the unfairness of his situation and what made it worse was that he was angry with her. He was positively livid; the vein in his neck stuck out as his face became redder, the fury in his blood flooding his brain and though he stood across the room, she felt entirely too close to him.

"Dan…" she said, her voice barely a whisper, "Please don't make this harder for me. I don't want to lose you." His eyes calmed and suddenly he wasn't filled with righteous rage - he just looked defeated.

"I'm sorry, Blair, but this time… This time, I don't think I can be the guy that stands by and watches you ruin your life. I think you should leave," he said, gesturing to the door. They stood for a moment, their eyes warring and trying to convey volumes of emotion until Blair broke the gaze and exited the loft. She had a bizarre sinking feeling that she was walking out on something important, something she doubted she could live without.

Dan watched her go and slammed the door behind her.


It was raining - how fitting, he thought - and the clock on his desk informed him that she was probably saying goodbye to her mother, getting ready to go to the airport. The past year had been one of the best of his life: the drama had been minimal, barely even Gossip Girl bothered to update on their friendship. They spent all their time together, even study sessions were spent in one another company, neither saying a word except to get an opinion on a note or a statement or an essay. Theirs was an easy camaraderie, a friendship based around mutual loneliness that grew into mutual respect and support. He found a side of Blair that made him laugh, made him want to be a better person.

She challenged him in ways that had long gone unappreciated, never hesitating to let him know when he was being pretentious and judgemental and he returned the favour in kind. He would remind her that she was not the greatest human being in all of time and space and that other people mattered too, that she couldn't dismiss someone's feelings out of hand just because she thought they were inferior. He reminded her what it meant to be compassionate and she, in return, kept him grounded when he became too obsessed with his own creativity. Being around Blair was something entirely new to him.

Serena had been a whirlwind of emotion because when things were good, they were great but they would not often stay that way. The blonde ran hot and cold unpredictably and she was forever running from something or someone. Her past would catch up to her all too often, causing drama and heartbreak wherever she went and that was so not Dan's idea of a good time. Sure, Blair had her fair share of scheming and plots but they always seemed to work itself out. Serena never really knew when to say when, especially concerning men and alcohol; frankly, Dan was glad he didn't have to deal with it anymore.

He had been in love with the blonde for so long in the beginning that when they finally happened, Serena had been put on a pedestal so high that he couldn't see her abundant problems and issues. He was just so happy that it was finally happening, that they were finally happening, so when he discovered the unpleasant sides of Serena, he couldn't handle it. She had been perfect for so long that the many imperfections totalled up to something unmanageable and dirty. Being her became unbearable and he tortured himself into believing that he loved her because he couldn't admit to himself that she just wasn't the person he had thought she was. However, his relationship with Blair held none of the taint that he and Serena had.

With Blair, he had no expectations. He had always assumed the worse because he had only ever seen the bad sides of her and where he had immediately trusted Serena, only to be burned, Blair had fought for his loyalty and he found himself pleasantly surprised. They bantered and criticized, more than unforgiving sometimes but when it came to important things, Blair kept his secrets in her heart and never used them against him. Years ago, Dan would not have doubted that she would post his deep, dark's on Gossip Girl for the world to see but now, he would trust Blair Waldorf with his life. An odd thought that he never would have imagined he could have.

He trusted Blair with everything, with every part of his life. He trusted she wouldn't judge him because she had probably done worse; he trusted that she would never turn something he said around and back on him purposefully; he trusted… He trusted that he loved her.

Daniel Humphrey was in love with his ex-girlfriend's best friend: his best friend.

It was still raining. Maybe he could catch her.


Blair paused, staring into the interior of the black limo and thinking that it looked less and less like a thing of style or grace and more like hearse, the rain beating out her death march. She could practically hear her name on the wind.

"Blair…"

She shuddered, cursing the cold, winter breeze and raised her leg to step into the car.

"Blair!" a call from the street. She stopped, ducking back out onto the street and cased the sidewalk. Another call of her name and a figure appeared out of the rain - Dan. He was out of breath, soaked to the bone and he looked like he had just had the best sex of his life.

He looked at her, drinking her in with his eyes and blinked the rain out of his eyes. "Hi…" he said. His hair was a mess and plastered to his head. Blair huffed, still more than a little angry at their earlier conversation.

"Humphrey. What do you want? I've got no time, my flight leave in an hour and I have to go."

"I wanted to just… Say something to you… Something I realised earlier."

"Make it fast," she crossed her arms and looked unimpressed.

"I think… Blair, I think-"

"Think what, Humphrey?"

"I think you're wonderful, Blair. There's magnificence in you. A magnificence that comes out of your eyes, in your voice, in the way you stand there, in the way you walk. You're lit from within, Blair. You've got fires banked down in you, hearth-fires and holocausts."

Blair sighed, exhausted and not sure what to say anymore as her anger left her. "Oh Dan… You don't really believe that. You don't. You're only telling me this because we've become close and… You think that if you say this I won't leave. You don't know what you're say-"

"Yes, I do! So don't tell me that I don't know what I feel, don't tell me what to do or what to say, dammit, because, Blair… I just ran 28 blocks in the rain with no jacket to tell you that I love you. That I want to be with you, screw the consequences. That you make me feel better about myself when you're around, that I'm a better person. I love you. I, Daniel Humphrey, am in love with you, Blair Waldorf. And I know you feel the same way about me and if you get in that limo and go to the airport and fly to Paris, then I'm going to come after you. Because I'm not Chuck, I won't drown my sorrows in woman and whiskey. I'm not Nate, so I'm not going to go to Serena. I'm me. I'm Dan and I will fight for you."

"I don't… I don't know…"

The driver interrupted their moment in heavily accented English. "Madam, we must go." She nodded and made a move to get in the limo but a cold, wet hand wrapped around her own warm, dry one. Their eyes met and she was nearly bowled over by the sheer honesty that was pouring out of his.

"Blair, please, don't leave. You don't belong with Louis or in France. You belong here. In New York, with me." His voice was so soft she had to fight to hear it over the sound of the rain; had they not been so close she probably wouldn't have succeeded. She bit her lip, torn between the man in front of her and the man she knew would be waiting for her. She shook her head, pulled her hand free and muttering, "I'm sorry," over and over, she got into the limo, shutting the door on his pleading face. He felt like had been shot again and he tried to pull at the handle only to realize that she had locked the door. He could faintly hear her sobbing but it only made him pound on the door harder until the freezing skin of his palm cut open. He didn't care. All he could feel was his heart being squeezed through a tube as she drove away; he even followed her for nearly a block, running down the sidewalk and yelling her name. When finally he could run no more, seeing no point in going a step further, he stopped. He couldn't breath. Couldn't think. She was gone.


He stumbled into the loft almost an hour later, a little drunk and exhausted. He barely even registered entering his apartment or switching on the light. He hit the button on his answering machine and headed to the kitchen to grab a beer. A voice however stopped him: her voice - coming from the answering machine.

"Dan, hi. It's me. I just got back on the plane. And I just feel awful. That is so not how I wanted things to end with us. It's just that I wasn't expecting to see you, and all of a sudden you're there and saying these things... And... And now I'm just sitting here and thinking of all the stuff I should have said, and I didn't. I mean, I didn't even get to tell you that I love you too. Because of course I do. I love you. I love you. I love you. What am I doing? I love you! Oh, I've gotta see you. I've gotta get off this plane."

Dan froze, staring at the machine as he listened to her argue with an airhostess. His mouth moved, he stuttered, wanted to yell. "Oh my god…" How old was this message? Could she be on her way to Paris or on her way here? "Please, miss, just let me get off the pla-" Silence.

Dan wanted to scream and he ran at the machine, pressing every kind of button and slamming on it, yelling frantically, "Did she get off the plane? Did she get off the plane?"

"I got off the plane."