It could have only been her knock.

With everything she does she stamps it firmly with a lingering aura of "Blair Waldorf". So he opens the door. And a sight all too often feels more normal than it should be.

"Had I known you better, I'd say you were starting to like Brooklyn." Dan says with a late night smile.

She walks in, he turns to his right, and she does to hers.

"It isn't Brooklyn I'm here for." She says to her surprise with no hint of shame.

How suddenly did this all feel so commonplace? How fast she left her outer self at the door? When did this place become… home?

She sits, she sighs, and she says. "You're the only person that I can have a furtive emotionally loaded conversation with right now."

He pours and he listens. The mugs. The tea bags. He knew her favourite tea. It didn't at all seem abnormal to know that.

"How's Chuck?" she asks as she first summons courage.

"He's… okay, kinda, sorta, long Freudian story." He says as he pours the boiling water from a kettle.

"How are you?" He asks as though his duty; as though his privilege.

"Pregnant." She says… with an expression she has never made before. Honesty, trust, a giving in. Catch me. "That makes it sound more real." She explains to him as though saying it makes it real but she explains to herself that it is the tone that remarked her.

A tone that one would use in a home, when did this place become home?

"I'd hope that denial would have last longer as a coping mechanism but breast tenderness and morning sickness make that impossible." She didn't understand it but she was going to go with it. It felt… right. After all, where else if not here?

He hands her the tea. He offers her options. But she's too strong in herself than to let herself not deal with the consequences. Too stubborn.

"I'm gonna keep it." She says with a relax determination.

He asks about her secrecy. She tells him about probability. He tries to steer her towards the truth.

"Haven't you heard of the power of positive thinking?" She chastises him for his perceived pessimism. "Put your giant intellect aside."

Giant intellect, he noted in his head; Blair Waldorf just said that.

"And focus with me on wish fulfillment." She asks of him. Who else could she ask to… wish with her?

"This is not that kind of situation. Even Blair Waldorf cannot bend DNA to her will." He says with the sting of truth. He knows it hurts. He knows it hurts to hear it but he knows what's good for her. And that's all that he's thinking about.

She nods in subtle agreement. She takes her medicine because she trusts the doctor.

She recounts her happiness to him. But she's really signaling her sorrow. Hear my tone, and not my words, she thinks. She reveals the truth, the whole truth, because she knows that's what he deserves.

"I know it's scary but, I think you should know who the father is." He pushes her to be honest with herself. He will always do that. "If not for yourself, but for the baby."

She cries with dried tears. "And what if I lose everything?"

"You'll still have me." You'll still have a home.

Her head falls on his chest. His lips fall into her hair.

She falls into a dream. A dream of home.