Hello all! I got a jolt of inspiration having read a most godawful spoiler about Season 6 today and this fic is the result. It's my first so reviews would be much appreciated. I'm planning for around 6 chapters. We'll see. This first part contains a prologue as well as chapter one. They're written in different styles so if you don't care for the first portion, keep reading to the end.

Prologue

Blair Waldorf had not spoken to Dan Humphrey in over 4 years.

She had resigned herself to the fact that the two of them would never be friends again. They had made an attempt about a year after the Shepherd's divorce party, but it was fruitless, each of them having caused the other too much pain to reconcile. Truthfully, neither of them could stomach being in the same room with one another much less engage in any kind of mutual affection. They parted ways politely and headed off to face the world, finally having surrendered to the idea that there was not a place for either one of them in the other's life.

Blair had spent the years since her mother's departure from Waldorf Designs pouring herself into her company. She worked all the time, very rarely taking time off for herself and hardly ever dating. On the occasion that she found herself feeling lonely, she had several casual romantic partners to...tickle her fancy. She simply had to decide what faire she was in the mood for. Brawny and arrogant or handsome and mysterious? Would she prefer the sensitive one tonight or perhaps the funny one who made her laugh? No matter which man she chose, the encounter inevitably produced the same end result. After a brief cuddle and perhaps a cup of tea, she would send the suitor on his way, never considering letting him stay the night. The brooding artist had once invited her to spend the weekend with him at a bed and breakfast in Connecticut, not having understood the rules of their arrangement. She rewarded him with a cold shoulder and stopped returning his calls. Eventually he got the picture, but not before spreading rumors about her amongst their mutual acquaintances, nicknaming her the Ice Queen and calling her a bitch.

The names didn't bother her, partly because she knew there was some truth in them, but mostly because she felt nothing for the man (men) who insisted they were an accurate portrayal of her. Romantic attachments were a thing of her past. She had spent a great deal of her youth allowing the men in her life to define her and was decidedly against ever permitting herself to fall into that trap again. If the ChuckandBlair saga had taught her anything, it was that love simply was not enough to bring her happiness and ultimately harmed her chances of fulfillment. There had been a brief time when she thought perhaps she and Chuck had gotten it right, that they would be able to make it work. The thought was fleeting, however, because Chuck was not well equipped to share his things. As time went on, the less she invested in love and the more she invested in her career and it eventually became too much for him to accept. So, ChuckandBlair (BlairandChuck) abruptly came to an end one November afternoon when she arrived home to discover Chuck's secretary straddling him atop Blair's egyptian cotton sheets.

Blair's life had settled into a comfortable routine. Wake up, coffee, work, light lunch, meeting, coffee, drinks with potential designers, exercise, coffee, sleep. Repeat. She was about 1/3 of the way through her routine one day when she received the phone call from Cyrus telling her that Eleanor had been in a car accident. The circumstances were humdrum, really. A drunk driver had run a red light and plowed into the back of the car carrying Eleanor home after having run out to fetch some flowers for the foyer. Witness accounts confirmed that the black SUV had been traveling erratically at an alarming rate of speed and that they were lucky no one besides the middle aged woman in the other car had been injured. Blair didn't see it that way. She didn't feel that the incident had involved luck in any capacity.

It was under these circumstances that Blair Waldorf picked up her phone and dialed the number that been etched in her brain so many years ago. She waited for him to pick up and when she heard his voice she was surprised to feel a fluttering.

*silence*

"Blair?" Dan was fond of skipping formalities.

"Hi Dan." Blair managed to breathe out. "You were the only person I could think of to call. I-I need to talk to someone. A friend."

Dan sat quietly for a moment. "Alright."

Nothing in her life had prepared Blair for this turn of events. She was not outfitted with the proper skills to know what to do or how to feel or what to say. Never having much tact, she just blurted it out. "My mother's been killed in a car accident."

Dan agreed to meet Blair that evening at her new apartment on the Upper East Side. After having spent the remainder of the day with Cyrus and Dorota making arrangements, Blair arrived home weary and travel worn. She hadn't cried yet which made her wonder if there was more than just a little truth to the whole "Ice Queen" incident. It was odd really, how calm she was about the whole matter. Cyrus was a basket case. One might suppose that Blair felt it was her job to keep it together for everyone else. That's what Eleanor would have wanted, of course. Others might suppose that she was cruel and unfeeling, a reflection of her waspy upbringing. Honestly Blair couldn't care less what the spectators to her bad fortune thought. All she knew was that she had donned her stoic mask for the better part of a day and it was beginning to suffocate her.

She was preparing some tea when she heard the knock and damn it if her heart didn't flutter again. Taking a moment to steady her breathing, she approached the door and opened it. There he stood, all kindness and reservation.

"Humphrey." Blair whispered. He took one step in the door and enveloped her in his arms. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Of course I'm here." Dan gripped the back of her head and tenderly caressed her back. Blair responded with a sharp intake of breath and a sob. "Oh. Here they are." thought Blair. As the tears streamed down her cheeks the only thing she could get out was, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry to have bothered you." To which Dan replied, "Shhh. There's nothing to be sorry about. Take all the time you need." She cried in his arms most of the night. Despite the fact that he really didn't want to leave her, he knew how inappropriate it would be if he stayed the night at Blair's apartment given his current...situation. He waited for her to fall asleep and when he was satisfied that she was out, he quietly slipped out the door, preparing his excuses during the drive home.

In the following days, former friends began to reconnect in the way that people tend to do when tragedy strikes. At the funeral, seated beside Blair with the family were Serena, Nate, and Dan. Chuck arrived 5 minutes late, preferring to sit in the back, and left 5 minutes early. The truth be told, there had been a lot of bad blood between this motley crew, but underneath it all was a bond forged out of shared history and, well, love.

They buried Eleanor in a family plot. Harold and Roman were pallbearers. Lily and Rufus hosted the family lunch after the somber affair was over and in spite of the fact that they had been reunited under horrific circumstances, Blair couldn't help but notice how familiar it all felt. How comfortable. It was a small bright spot amidst a dark day and it soothed her soul.

Blair moved back into her mother's penthouse two days after the funeral. Cyrus was not handling things very well so it was decided that Blair would take care of him for the time being. Aaron had long since relocated to Santa Fe making it impossible for him to stay for any great length of time, which suited Blair just fine. Loneliness was no longer novel to her and she secretly delighted in breakfasts and dinners with her much beloved stepfather.

Nate would stop by every so often to check on them under the guise of bringing them peaches or flowers or some other token. Serena didn't come by but she reached out via texts and emails to which Blair always promptly responded with a brief quip and a thank you. The two young women would never share the camaraderie they had once known but it seemed they might be able to mend a few of their old wounds. The fact that Serena's texts started to come more and more frequently hinted at the possibility that they could be friends again. Only time would tell of course.

Dan didn't visit. He didn't call. It was as if that night in her apartment had never happened. She began to wonder if perhaps grief had clouded her mind and the whole thing was just a figment of her imagination. That theory was squelched, however, when she ran into him, quite by accident at The Met, of all places. The encounter was brief and to the casual observer, mundane, but Blair and Dan were not casual observers in their own lives. Having acquired an astute understanding of one another during their youth, each of them recognized how telling this little brush actually was.

This is the story of how Dan and Blair grew back together.

Chapter One: Reunion

"Cyrus I'm going out for a bit. Can I get you anything?" Blair shouted from the foyer. She waited for his response but was rewarded with silence. Worried he might be having one of his dark days, she searched the penthouse for him, finally spotting him curled up in his bed with The New York Times scattered across his chest and the sheets. Not wanting to wake him, she tiptoed out of the room cursing the click of her heels.

Blair was desperately in need of some inspiration so instead of wallowing at home, she made her way to what was in her opinion the pinnacle of motivation and creativity. The Metropolitan Museum of Art had always been one of her favorite places in the city. When she arrived she headed straight to the Gelman Gallery to bask in the genius of Bonnard, Miro', and Matisse among countless others. Since her mother's death, Blair had been carrying around a dull aching pain that would take hold of her heart and squeeze at the most inopportune times. Inside the museum she found that her companion, as she called it, tended to retreat. She could breathe easier when she let her mind wander into the myriad collections of paintings, drawings, sculptures, and other masterworks. She sat down in front of her favorite piece (in this collection mind you) and let it hijack her brain for a few minutes.

"I never took you for a Chagall fan." Blair was startled out of her trance by a familiar deep voice. She whipped around to find Dan Humphrey standing beside her gazing at the same painting. "You know, goats and bearded fiddlers aren't really your style."

Blair gave a him the slightest of smirks. "My tastes are quite broad, thank you very much. Anyhow, they say that our tastebuds change every seven years. Did you know that? Why can't the same be true of other things? I happen to admire this painting a great deal. And furthermore, I see no goats, do you?"

"No. No goats. What's it called again?" Dan squinted at the description.

"What's the matter with you? You can't read that?" Blair looked at him incredulously.

Dan chuckled. "My vision seems to be waning in my old age."

"Geez Humphrey, get some glasses. And please refrain from calling yourself old. You are inadvertently insulting me, you do realize this." Blair huffed at him. "And it's called The Lovers."

Dan nodded his head and repeated her, "The Lovers. It's...loverly." Dan glanced over at her with a grin knowing she would appreciate his witticism.

Blair groaned. "That has got to be the worst excuse for a joke I have ever heard come out of your mouth. You are no longer allowed to reference Audrey films in your future comedic exploits. Especially My Fair Lady." She shot him a glare and glanced back at the painting. "And yes, it's quite loverly." She sniggered.

Dan's eyes widened at her and suddenly the both of them were in the throws of raucous and uncontrollable laughter. It felt so good to let go. It felt so good to laugh, unrestrained and with abandon. Their laughter was giddy and wild, bordering on the ridiculous, but the moment was far from trite. In the midst of her giggles, Blair sensed a catharsis of sorts. Not a life changing, soul freeing moment, but a significant shift nonetheless. Dan eventually had to quiet her down as they were on the receiving end of several disapproving stares. He leaned in to her ear, gingerly placing his hand on her shoulder and muttered, "Shut up Waldorf. You're gonna get us kicked out."

Blair lurched at the contact.

Dan hastily stood up straight, pulled his hand away and put it in his pocket. Clearing his throat, Dan broke the silence that followed. "Uh, sorry about that. I was just trying to get your attention." And then a leer at her, "I was concerned you might get us banned from the museum for life. I had only your best interests at heart."

Blair softened. "Of the two of us, I believe you would have been the one at fault Dan." Blair looked up at him through her eyelashes and raised a brow.

Dan seemed to melt under her gaze. Some things would never change she supposed. Secretly thrilling at his reaction, Blair decided to make an attempt at an actual conversation. "Joking aside, how have you been?"

Dan smiled. "I've been good. Great actually. I don't know if you've heard, but I just published my fourth novel. It was pretty well received if I do say so myself."

"I've heard." Blair considered him for a moment, then decided to confess. "I've read all of your books. They're in my permanent collection."

Dan froze. He obviously wasn't expecting to hear those words today or ever, really, from Blair. Their eyes met. Dan cautiously sat down on the gallery bench beside her. "I'm sorry I haven't called."

With a wave of her hand, "It's no matter. If you had called, you would have been bored to tears. I haven't been in any state for good conversation lately."

"Blair." Dan placed his hand over hers. "There's a lot I'd like to say to you."

Blair's heart started thumping. LOUDLY. She wasn't ready for this. "Dan, this is the first time we've actually had a conversation in over four years. I think-no, I mean, I hope that there will be plenty of time to say all the things that need to be said." Blair placed her available hand on top of the pile between them. "I'm not sure it has to be today though. Can we just sit here for a little while?"

Dan and Blair's eyes connected for a second time. Warm, brown, and oh so inviting, Dan's eyes said so many things about regret, hurt, and hope that Blair had to avert her gaze. It was too much. He was too intense. Why was this happening? Hadn't they decided years ago that there was nothing between them, not even friendship? Yet his eyes were telling a different story, one that she dared not imagine for fear that it might actually find itself grounded in reality. She was about to tell him as much when she was interrupted by a voice.

"There you are." A young woman appeared at Dan's side. "I've been looking all over for you. Who's your friend?"

Dan looked up at her and almost imperceptibly shook his head, but Blair saw it. It was as if he were shaking off some daydream. He smiled up at the woman.

"Hey you. Sorry I kept you waiting. This is Blair Waldorf. She and I knew each other in high school." Dan explained.

The woman reached her hand out to shake Blair's and said, "I'm Elizabeth, Dan's fiancé. It's nice to meet you."

TBC