It was significantly unfortunate that the moment Blair started to fall head over heels madly in love with Dan Humphrey was the same moment that Dan Humphrey stood on the sidewalk in the middle of a freak late-spring downpour on a Sunday afternoon and told her that he was breaking up with her.
It took her by surprise because Blair had always been sure she would be the one doing the breaking up. She'd decided to try on Humdrum Humphrey for size, dragging him from one party to the next, shoving Barney's bags stuffed with more appropriate shirts at him so he wouldn't look quite as rag tag next to her, ignoring how he rolled his eyes as she dressed down yet another waiter at yet high end restaurant.
He wasn't that bad in general. He was a good kisser. A really good kisser, and she'd decided that they needed to do a lot of that. It was one of the things he'd complained about as he was breaking up with her, that she'd pinned in too many dark doorways, made him miss too many movies at the forum. He did have good taste in books, and some nights they had talked for hours before she managed to distract him with her hands and her mouth. He put up with her minions and plots to rule the Upper East Side. She liked the way he smiled. Blair tried to ignore the fact that there really wasn't that much bad about Dan Humphrey, except for that plaid shirt he was currently wearing, as she stood, staring at his face, him staring down at the sidewalk, saying words that she refused to listen to, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
As he stood in the rain, telling her it was over, Blair bit back the urge to tell him for the one millionth time that he needed to cut his hair, and maybe it was good that he was breaking up with her because who wants to be seen on the arm of someone with that mop on his head anyway. He broke up with her in his usual annoying manner, full of the Humphrey Appeal, rambling on, talking too much, listing off the reasons they just wouldn't work, and he ended the litany by saying,
"And really Blair, you're sort of, well, you're sort of unloveable."
With those words he turned and walked away, leaving her standing on the sidewalk with her mouth wide open, the word 'unloveable' hanging in the air.
She didn't cry that night. After all, who would cry over Dan Humphrey? He was an experiment, an interlude, a distraction.
The next morning she got up and as she was sitting at her vanity applying her daily moisturizer, she played his words over and over in her head. Who was he to say she was unloveable? They'd only dated for six weeks, and it's not like he didn't know what he was getting into. She sighed in irritation and wished she could call him. Then Blair switched gears and decided that the best way to shake off the faint melancholy that was seeping around the edges of her psyche was to come up with a good project, and she knew exactly the one she would take on. Blair Waldorf decided to prove to Dan Humphrey that he was wrong.
She was actually quite lovable.
Later that day she marched through the doorway of his loft, her arms carrying a somewhat large box that had holes all around the top. She hadn't bothered to knock, just pushed the door open and walked into the room. Dan was sitting at the kitchen counter, working on his laptop. He looked up when she entered the room, his face surprised.
"Blair, I thought I told you, I thought we..."
"Shut up, Humphrey." Blair interrupted. She marched over to where he was sitting and plopped the box on the counter. She opened up the box and pulled out a fluffy grey and white kitten with wide blue eyes. It mewed a little and Blair held it up to her face, feeling the soft fur on her skin.
Blair smiled at Dan then said bluntly, "this is a kitten."
"I can see that."
"If I was truly unloveable, this kitten would not want to be around me. Kittens are all about love. Unloveable people would kick kittens. See, I am cuddling this kitten."
Dan stared at Blair like she'd gone insane. Maybe she had, but he was the one who had called her unloveable. He was the one she had to prove wrong. She stroked the kittens soft fur a few times.
"I'm naming her Diamond."
"Really? You're going to do this?"
"What?" Blair asked innocently. "Am I going to take in this kitten, feed it and care about its well being? Yes. Yes I am, Humphrey. Because I am not unloveable."
Dan sighed.
On Tuesday she found him walking down the street heading toward lunch with his dad. She caught up with him, her stride matching his and walked along side him until he finally stopped and turned toward her.
"Hey Humphrey!" she said before he could tell her to get lost, her voice artificially chipper. She extended her hand toward him and in it was a steaming cup of coffee from his favorite coffee shop, made exactly the way he liked it. Because she knew his coffee order.
"Really, Blair?"
"I just brought you coffee." Blair said cheerfully with mock innocence, cocking her head to one side. "You know, thought I'd do something nice. Because I'm not one of those unloveable people who don't pay attention to what kinds of things you like and dislike, and bring you the wrong coffee."
She smiled and turned away from him, walking the opposite direction and not looking back once, leaving him staring after her and holding a cup of coffee that would indeed turn out to be exactly his order.
That night Blair sat down and wrote a list. It was a list of everything she liked about Dan Humphrey. When she was done she was surprised to discover it was rather long. A few of highlights were:
You have somewhat decent taste in movies.
No one had ever shared her love of classic films and surreal French comedies, and as she wrote this, Blair remembered they were showing The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie at the forum and she felt a little sad that they most likely wouldn't be seeing it together.
I like the way you smell. You actually smell good, Humphrey. You even smell good in the morning.
She'd noticed this after she fell asleep in his bed one night and woke up with her head on his chest and his hand stroking her hair. It never occurred to Blair that no one smells that good in the morning and maybe he only smelled good to her.
You're a really good kisser. You really should own this.
As she wrote this, she actually wished he was kissing her again.
I guess your plaid shirts aren't that bad.
So, she lied a little. She was trying to prove that she was lovable after all, and maybe part of being lovable was saying something you knew would make the other person feel good about themselves.
I like being around you.
Blair stared at number fifteen on her list then decided against including it.
She printed out the list on her personalized letterhead and sprinkled the paper with a little of her Chanel No. 5, just to remind her of him, then placed it in an envelope and sealed it. The next day she showed up at the loft and placed it into his hand without a word, then turned and walked away.
Someone who was unloveable would never had made that list, Blair thought to herself. Take that, Humphrey.
He called her that night but she didn't answer the phone when she saw his name across the screen. His message was another Humphrey triumph in rambling, thanking her for the list, telling her that he was about to pop in a movie, and had hoped that if she were around she might want to watch it with him.
Blair smirked. See, Humphrey, she wasn't really that bad.
On Thursday she found him between classes on the NYU campus, "Humphrey," she trilled, waving her hand to catch his attention. He stopped and waited for her to catch up with him.
"I was just about to have..."
"Lunch?" Blair interrupted. A large picnic basket was hanging from her arm and she saw Dan glance over at it. "I had Dorota pack all your favorite foods."
"How?" Dan asked but Blair interrupted him again, her hand going up to signal him to stop talking.
"I have my ways. Do not question."
Her 'ways' was a phone call to Rufus early in the morning where she grilled him on what Dan liked to eat, but why spoil the mystery.
"You can keep the picnic basket. I'll leave you to your lunch."
As Blair turned to walk away she heard Dan's voice.
"Wait, do you, um, would you like to join me."
Blair smiled then turned around.
"Yes, I would like to join you Humphrey."
They spread out the picnic blanket on the grass and Blair tucked her legs under her. Dan pulled out containers full of food and started to scoop them out onto the fine bone china plates Blair had insisted Dorota include. He poured sparkling champagne into crystal glasses and handed one to her. Dan smiled and commented that she always had had amazing taste. They talked and ate and talked some more, Blair just listening to how his classes were going, to the progress he was making on his second book proposal. At some point Dan glanced down at his watch and realized that he'd missed his next class, then proclaimed that he didn't care for it much anyway. At another point Blair realized that she was very happy.
When they were done, Dan stood up and thanked her for a very nice lunch. The picnic was packed back into the basket and Blair was holding onto the basket handles when Dan leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She felt the heat rise up her face and Blair knew she was blushing.
She felt very lovable at that moment.
"Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?" Dan asked.
"Maybe," Blair answered. She felt her heart swell.
Friday she managed to catch up with him as he exited Rufus and Lily's penthouse and headed north.
"Are you busy, Humphrey?" she asked before he could even say 'hello'.
"Actually, I was about to..."
"Well, cancel your plans," Blair said curtly. It was her last day of proving to him that his words had been wrong.
"What if they'd been big plans?" Dan asked with a sly smile and Blair ignored him. She already knew he and Nate were going to meet for beers and watch Three Stooges movies. She'd called around, using her powers to plot and scheme for good instead of evil.
She led him toward the town car she'd asked to wait on the corner. Once inside she refused to tell him where they were going. Finally they stopped at one of the entrances to Central Park and she told him they had reached their destination.
"Why are we here?" Dan asked as they walked along the pathway.
"Too many questions, Humphrey," Blair shot back.
The evening was warm and Blair felt almost serene. She ignored Dan's glance toward her, as they walked, their pace slow and unhurried. This was nice. They rounded a bend and in front of them was a natural amphitheater with a large screen set up on one end. At the base of a screen was a small group of musicians: violinists, bassists, and off to one side was a portable organ.
"What is this," Dan asked as the stopped at the top of the amphitheater. "Some sort of movies in the park?"
"No," Blair said smiling. "This is for you. The Great Gatsby. 1926."
Dan's mouth dropped open and he stared at her. The silent version of The Great Gatsby had been lost.
"How?"
"They found a version of it last year. It took quite a few phone calls."
"Okay Blair, enough," Dan's arm was on hers. "This is too much. What do you want from me? To say I'm sorry? You're clearly not unloveable. No one unloveable would have spent an entire week doing nice things like this."
Those were the words Blair had waited to hear all week, but now they fell flat. She did not want to prove him wrong, to have him tell her that his words meant nothing. She did not want him to now deem her lovable. The one thing her quest to prove herself lovable had proved was that she actually missed Dan Humphrey, that he was quite lovable himself.
"I want another chance," Blair said, gazing up at him.
Dan would joke later that the beginning of their relationship was actually an ending, and Blair would tell him that she knew she loved him at that moment because she actually didn't want him to go, didn't want them to end. All of that would come later. But now Dan took her hand in his and she liked the way their hands fit together. He looked at her the took a step toward her and then another, and finally leaned forward and captured her mouth with a long, sweet, slow kiss.
And that was when Blair realized that she'd never been unloveable to start with. She just needed to find a way to tell him that.
the end
