If you'd asked Dan Humphrey on Monday if he was happy, he would have said yes.

He'd walked away from the Upper East Side five years ago, left it all behind him. Dan's heart had been broken in more than one way, by more than one person, and he couldn't have anything to do with those people anymore.

He wasn't there for the fallout from his new book.

He wasn't there when Blair married Chuck.

He wasn't there when Serena finally went to rehab.

He learned over the phone that Lily had left Bart, that she was back with his father.

He wasn't there when Nate finally decided to do what his grandfather had always wanted him to do and run for office.

Dan Humphrey simple wasn't there. He walked away and never looked back, leaving the last five years of his life in his past.

The next five years were good.

He wrote a script. He had a third book published. He moved to California. He got married.

It had been a windy day when Dan said 'I do'. Her name was Emily. She was a nice girl, blond, grew up in California. She kind of reminded him of Serena, radiating sunshine. She was uncomplicated, straight-forward, and he loved her as much as he'd loved most people, so Dan ignored the fact that the thought he had as he was standing on the bluff overlooking the ocean, his curls whipping into his eyes, the roar of the ocean in the background, was...

...she's not Blair...

It was a useless thought. Dan had figured out long ago that no one comes close to Blair Waldorf. But it didn't matter if Emily was like Blair or not. Blair had chosen Chuck.

If you'd asked Dan Humphrey on Monday if he was happy, he would have said yes.

They'd returned to the city, Emily remarking how different it was. She'd grown up in Southern California with its expansive strip malls, burger joints and sandy beaches. L. A. stretched more out than up, and now she was amazed at how vertical New York was. She hung onto Dan's arm, staring up around her, asking him where the sun was. Dan smiled. She was his sunshine girl.

It was just a visit and Dan was eager to have it done, but at the same time it was nice to be home again. They stayed with Rufus and Lily, Dan laughing to himself that they were sleeping in Serena's old room. Emily asked him what was so funny and Dan answered that it was nothing really. Just a memory.

Rufus made waffles and said how nice it was to have someone else besides him and Lily at their weekly brunch. Jenny was living in Milan, trying to get her designs seen. Serena was modeling in Spain. They had become a broken apart international family. Rufus piled the table high with food and there was lots of hot coffee and Emily charmed Rufus and Lily with tales of growing up in California, blinding them with her smile and her charm. Dan smiled and squeezed his wife's arm and he was happy.

It felt good to be happy, to return to the place that had almost broken him and know that he hadn't let it win. They had spent the rest of the day walking arm in arm through Central Park, Dan telling Emily what it was like to live between worlds, to travel from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side. She asked him if he misses New York and Dan lies. He tells her that everything he wants is in California and Emily smiles. That night, after Dan brushes his teeth and put on his t-shirt and boxers, she smiles again and coaxes him into bed. She kisses him and tells him she loves him, and they giggle while they have sex, feeling like teenagers hiding from their parents, worried that Rufus and Lily might hear them.

If you'd asked Dan on Monday if he was happy, he would have said yes.

The next day is Tuesday and they only have three more days before they fly back. Lily say she wants to take Emily out shopping. Dan says he'll spend the day exploring the museums so the girls can have time together. He's missed the museums living in California. He throws a pencil in his bag, along with his notebook, and heads out on the subway, prepared to be inspired.

It's been a long time.

Dan had found a way to be happy despite the disaster his life had become. He'd walked away, found a new life, left it all behind. Until that Tuesday, when it all came crashing back in the form of a 95-pound, doe-eyed, bonmot-tossing, label-whoring package of girly evil.

"Dan Humphrey?"

Dan freezes. He knows that voice. He would know that voice anywhere.

Blair.

The last five years peel away, California never happened, he never married Emily, and he's back there again. With her. Abandoned. Hurt. Heartbroken. Dan feels an ache in his heart that he thought he had banished. He has a small, sharp intake of breath and then turns around.

"Blair Waldorf."

He is smooth, neutral, uncaring. A command performance considering that every hair on his neck is standing up, every cell in his body is tingling as he takes in Blair. Blair, still as beautiful as ever, a little bit older, her face a little more gaunt. She is dressed smartly in a plain black dress and is holding a notebook and a pencil in one hand, mirroring the notebook and pencil he holds in his own. Dan smiles.

"Bass now," she says, searching his face. Dan doesn't react because he already knows. Rufus had called him one afternoon, asked if he was sitting down. Then he'd told her that Chuck and Blair had announced their engagement. There was silence on the other end of the line as Rufus waited for Dan to react, to say something. Dan says nothing. He just stares into space. It's over.

"I just hope she's happy." Dan told his dad.

Dan had gotten drunk that night, downing one cheap beer after another in a dive bar down the street. He'd woken up lying on the couch in his apartment, his cheek plastered against the velour upholstery. His stomach had been uneasy but he made himself walk down to a small cafe near his place and that was when he met Emily. She was subbing that day for the usual wait staff. Dan had been set free from Blair Waldorf, so he asked her out. She seemed nice enough, she laughed at his jokes, she was a pretty girl. The rest was history.

Now Blair Bass stands in front of him and Dan's eyes go to her left hand. There's a ring there, a gauche shiny thing. Nothing he would have picked out if it had been him down on one knee. Dan almost winces but manages to keep his face neutral as he looks back at Blair.

"Congratulations."

Blair shrugs and gives a little half-smile.

"Thanks. It's been a few years now."

"I'm sure you're very happy." Dan says. "It's what you always wanted."

Blair doesn't look happy. She actually looks sad hearing Dan wish her well. Dan blinks, not sure what else to say. Awkward silence stretches between them.

"You're visiting?" Blair finally asks, making small talk like one does at cocktail parties with people they barely know. Dan nods.

"My wife and I are here for a week."

Something flickers through Blair's eyes. Pain.

"I thought I'd heard something about you getting married." Blair stumbles a little over her words. It's there again. Pain.

"Her name is Emily." Dan says. "She's pretty great."

Blair nods and the pain is there again. She doesn't say anything to Dan, no words of congratulations. She just looks around, opens her purse, pulls out a tube lip gloss, puts it away without putting it on. Finally she looks back at Dan, her gaze holding his just a little too long.

"Well, what a funny coincidence, meeting here like this." Blair says cooly, politely. "Maybe I'll see you in another five years."

"Yeah, maybe." Dan answers, thinking that he may never return to New York again. Not if he's going to run into Blair. Dan forces a smile and things feel strange and awkward between them. He turns to leave, turning away from Blair, leaving her behind, when he hears her call out to him.

"Dan!"

Dan stops then turns around to face Blair. He doesn't want to. He wants to walk away again, to leave her behind. His eyes narrow. He's surprised to feel anger lurking underneath the calmness, leaking out through the cracks. He'd thought the anger was gone after all this time.

"What Blair? What do you want?" Dan snaps, letting go of the politeness. It's been five years. Why call after him. Why not let him walk away? Blair stares at him and Dan stares back. She bites her bottom lip the way she's always done when she's nervous.

"Does she make you happy?"

It's an easy question to answer. Emily makes him happy. She's sweet and loving, she's funny. She's just the right combination of naivete and sophistication. They can talk for hours.

"Yes," Dan answers genuinely. "She makes me happy."

Blair doesn't say anything. She stand there staring at Dan, watching his face, her eyes wide and moist, and Dan thinks she might be crying but he's not sure.

"Happier than I made you?"

It's a simple question and it has a simple answer, except that the answer blows Dan's world apart. He stands there staring back at Blair, and suddenly the last five years never happened and the pain hits him like a strong wind, and he feels like he might be knocked over by it.

Happier than I made you?

"Don't do this, Blair." Dan pleads, his facade crumbling. The walls he's built up start to peel away and Dan feels the anger again, his edges held with gossamer threads that are now all threatening to break, leaving him open and exposed. He feels the lies he's been telling himself for years start to fragment.

This isn't how things are supposed to happen.

They are supposed to run into each other, make niceties, pleasant conversation about nothing, comment on the weather, ask how work is going. They're supposed to shake hands, maybe even hug, and promise to see each other more, both of them knowing they're lying. They're supposed to turn around and walk away from each other again.

"I know you made me happy." Blair whispers. "I didn't know how much until you weren't there anymore."

He's happy with Emily. He's happy with his life. Dan left Blair Waldorf and all her complications behind. At least he thought he had. Until now.

"You can't do this, Blair." Dan spits out. HIs words are full of anger now, no longer hiding behind politeness. "Not now, not ever. You lost your rights. You made your choice. You married him."

...you married him...

Dan's heart breaks again with those words. Blair closes her eyes, opens them again, gazes at him.

"I waited for you to come," she says quietly. "I know you knew I was going to marry Chuck, and I waited for you to come. Up the last minute I hoped you would find me, but you never did."

She is closer to him now and he can see the fine lines that have developed around her eyes, a little bit of gray in her hair she probably forgot to pull out, and he can smell her. Freesia. Sweetness. She smells the same, and he remembers what it was like to hold her in his arms. The anger starts to slip away, replaced by something else, something more complicated, less tangible.

...dammit...

"I couldn't save you," Dan spits out, grasping for his outrage, trying to keep it alive, "I did that. I saved you over and over again, and then I couldn't do it anymore. I got away from you, from all of this, and I wasn't about to come back to save you again. Even if you were marrying Bass. Even if it meant I'd never see you again."

Blair looks hurt. Dan is immediately flooded with regret, the anger slipping further away. It's always been too easy for him to acquit her of her transgressions, too easy for him to see that no matter how ugly things got, Blair always has a good reason for her actions. Even now he wants to forgive her, to take her into his arms and tell her he's sorry. His hands clench and unclench as he fights for control, fights to stay standing there and to not step toward her, one step, two step, and finally feel her in his arms again.

"I just wanted you to be happy." Dan says, his voice softer, kinder. Blair looks relieved, sags a little, and she suddenly looks tired. He finally allows himself to step towards her. One step. Two steps. Closer. So close.

"Tell me that you're happy," Dan whispers, searching her face. "Tell me that all this heartbreak was for something."

...let me go...

He takes her hand in his. It fits. It's always fit so well. Dan feels the muscles in his body relax at her touch and he hadn't even realized he was tensed up. She feels familiar, and he feels a stirring in his groin, a curling of lust, and he tells himself that she's always had this effect on him, that it's just simple attraction. Nothing more. She looks up at him, eyes wide, glistening with tears. He knows what she's going to say before she says it.

"I'm not happy," Blair whispers. "I want to be but I'm sorry Dan, but I'm not. I haven't been happy for a long time."

His heart feels like it's been cut open.

If you'd asked Dan Humphrey on Monday if he was happy, he would have said yes. And he was. He would tell you that he has a good life, a beautiful wife, and that he was happy. Now he realises that the only reason he's ever been able to be happy is that he thought Blair was. Chuck was what she wanted, what she'd fought for. If he'd ever thought differently...

"Don't do this Blair," Dan says again, this time with more force. "Not now. Not after all these years. Lie to me if you have to. Let me go."

"I can't."

"Tell me that you're happy."

"I can't!"

"Please."

Dan suddenly realises that they're mere inches apart, so close that he can hear the soft in and out of her breathing. And as much as he doesn't want to admit it, as much as he really should turn around and walk away, he...oh goodness...he really wants...really wants to kiss her.

What the fuck?

"It's always been you." Blair says so quietly that only Dan can hear her. "It's always been you."

Blair drops his hand and searches his face, looking for something. Dan doesn't know what she wants to find, but after a long moment she turns from him and starts to walk away, her pace slow and deliberate, her shoulders sagging, everything about her demeanor radiating a painful sadness. Dan feels a lump in his throat, feels his chest clench.

...Blair...

If you'd asked Dan Humphrey on Monday if he was happy, he would have answered yes. But on Tuesday everything turned upside down and now he stands in the middle of the Met, not sure of anything anymore. He stands there realizing that it had always been Blair in his heart, after all these years, all this time, and it had never stopped being her. He stands there watching her walk away again, staring until she turns the corner, watching her walk away.

...walk away again...

...dammit...

Dan starts to follow Blair.

...I love Emily...

He leaves the gallery and doesn't see her. He looks left, then right. No sign. Dan heads toward the front of the museum. His footsteps quicken.

...I love my wife...

He starts to run, terrified she'll be gone, he'll never see her again, heart pounding, breathing speeding up.

...but not as much...

Dan pushes through the doors leading outside and blinks in the sunshine, looking around frantically, to his left, to his right, to his left again.

...as I love Blair...

He sees her, a lone figure making her way down the steps, her coat wrapped around her, her shoulders sagging, the wind whipping her hair, and she brings up a hand to push it away from her face.

"Blair!"

Dan calls her name and it gets carried away by the wind. She keeps walking, walking away from him.

"BLAIR!"

Blair stops. She doesn't turn around, just stand there, the wind blowing her hair, her figure looking small and strangely frail for someone Dan knows has always been so strong. He reaches her, puts his hand on her shoulder. She flinches at his touch.

They are back in time, Blair's hand in Dan's as he pulls her up the steps, annoyed that he has dragged her out in the middle of the day, the glare of the afternoon sun making her squint. Blair hates surprises, hates this dress, doesn't like to be cold, and doesn't know why her boyfriend has dragged her here, until he puts the tiara on her head and she's a princess one last time. It's a gift, the kind she'll never get again, more valuable than all the diamonds and flowers Chuck will give her over the next five years. She keeps the tiara, tucked away in pink tissue paper that reminds her of that day, in a box in the back of the closet. She never looks at it.

They are on those same steps again, Dan's hand on Blair's shoulder, Blair turning around to face him, her face streaked with tears, and Dan knows that she would hate herself at this moment, that she wants the world to see her cry like they do in the movies, a single tear glistening on her cheek. Instead she has mascara streaked and her nose is red and she sniffs as she looks at him, and Dan thinks he's never loved her more than this moment.

...I have never stopped loving you...

Five years disappear, and with it all the heartbreak and heartache and sadness and pain that Dan never realized still weighed down his soul Nothing matters. Not Chuck, not Emily. Nothing. They are just Dan and Blair again.

He kisses her. Dan leans down and captures her mouth, and it's soft and sweet, gentle pressure, his lips meeting hers. She sighs at the touch of his lips, a almost inaudible sound. He pulls back, stares down at her, searches her face. Then she kisses him, pulling him toward her, winding her arms around his neck, and the softness is gone, replaced by crushing hunger that leaves Dan wanting more...and more...and more...and...

"Dan!" Blair gasps, breaking the kiss, burying her head in his chest, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her breathing mirroring his. He wraps her arms around her, kisses her head, feels the tears start to sting his eyes. They cling together, the wind blowing. Dan and Blair.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

It's an apology. For everything. For what he's about to do.

Blair lifts her head from his chest. She looks up at him, then takes his face in her hands and kisses him on the cheek, then on the other cheek. She covers his face with kisses, not caring that they're standing on the steps of the Met for the world to see, Blair Bass, kissing a man who isn't her husband, over and over and over again.

"I love you," says between kisses.

...I love you I love you I love you...

Dan's heart hurts. Because he loves her too. More than he thought possible.

"I'm married, Blair." Dan manages to gasp between kisses. She stops. She stares up at him, her eyes washed over with pain, because she knows what he's saying.

"Don't." Blair says quietly. "Please don't."

"And I love her."

"Please..."

Her lips are trembling, her voice is hoarse.

"enough to makes vows to her."

"No"

"I can't hurt her. Not like this."

Blair is shaking. Dan can feel it through her winter coat. Her arms wrap around him, she holds onto him like he's going to drift away, so tightly Dan's not sure he can breathe.

"If I had known, if only I had known, I would never have married Emily. I would have flown back to New York and stopped your wedding, but I didn't know, and you didn't tell me, and now I just can't do this, I can't hurt her, not like this...not like this..."

The words are tumbling out, faster and faster, a rush of emotion, and he hates every single one, but he knows that it's the truth. The last five years matter.

They are still wrapped around each other, Dan's arms holding Blair up as she starts to sob, her body still shaking, and not from the cold wind that continues to blow. She is shaking because she has finally lost everything, and Dan thinks about those words he said to her so long ago, when everything seemed possible, when the whole world was wide open, when he thought he could love and be loved and nothing else matters.

...you'll still have me...

Not anymore. He drops his arms and Blair sags against him, her arms still wrapped around his chest, holding him for one last time. She mumbles something through the tears and the runny nose, looking up at him, watching his face.

"Never forget me."

"Never," Dan promises.

"I love you," Blair says quietly, knowing those words don't matter.

"I love you too."