Title: “Play Nice”
Author: angel_grace
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2920
Spoilers: General through 1.4, “Bad News Blair”
Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine. If they were, Chuck wouldn’t have looked so sad this week.
Summary: Serena wants her best friend and her boyfriend to get along. She should be careful what she wishes for.
Author’s Note: I actually wrote this quite a while ago, even before I wrote Purity Pledge. Needless to say, it diverges from canon. It’s also a little schmoopy. Oh well.

Dan still felt awkward walking into the Palace Hotel. The fact that he and Serena had been almost-but-not-quite dating for two months didn't seem to matter. The concierge still glared as though he expected Dan to start taking hostages at any moment, and Mrs. van der Woodsen treated him like he had the plague.

And then, of course, there was Blair. Blair, Serena had patiently explained, was part of the package. They were BFFs, even on days when they hated each other, and if Dan wanted to date Serena, he had to deal with Blair.

Dan wondered if Blair had gotten a similar lecture. He rather doubted it.

Serena was nowhere in sight when he walked into the van der Woodsen's suite, but Blair was sprawled elegantly on a chaise, reading a magazine.

She barely glanced up. "Cabbage Patch," she said by way of greeting.

"Maleficent," he replied, the exchange familiar, routine. "Where's Serena?"

Setting down the magazine, she made a face. "She decided she and Erik needed some brother-sister bonding time."

"Why didn't she call me to cancel?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because she also thinks you and I need some bonding time. Now, I'm perfectly willing to lie if you are, but we have to make the story plausible."

He laughed. "There's no way that will work."

"What, the lying? Or the two of us spending the day frolicking around Manhattan?"

"I don't frolic. But I meant the lying. She'll know, and you know she'll just keep setting us up until we do what she wants."

"You know you're even more annoying when you're right."

"Let's just get this over with, okay?"

"Fine."


They had been walking around Central Park for nearly an hour, barely speaking.

"This is stupid," Blair announced, flopping down on a park bench. "I don't know why Serena keeps insisting we should try and be friends."

He sat down on the other end of the bench. "Convenience, probably. It makes life a lot easier if her best friend and...whatever I am...get along."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "Why do you like her so much?"

He paused, thought for a moment. "I don't know. She's just different, I guess."

"Because she's beautiful?"

"That's part of it, sure. But, I don't know, I like how she doesn't seem to care what anyone thinks or says."

"Really? That's what makes me hate her sometimes," Blair replied quietly.


Serena called half an hour later, to let them know that she and Erik were home, and they should come over and order room service and then they could spend the afternoon watching movies or something.

Blair wrinkled her nose when Dan conveyed the message. "Sometimes I think Serena would be just as happy in some suburb, where we could hang out at Applebee's and spend all our time talking about boys and braiding each other's hair."

"You mean that's not what you do now?" he teased.

"Shut up! You know, just because we're rich doesn't mean we're shallow."

"Okay, then what do you want to do this afternoon?"

She stared at him, apparently astonished that he would even ask. "Aren't we going back to Serena's?"

He shrugged. "We can if you want. But if she wants us to spend time together, shouldn't we get to decide how we spend that time?"

"You're serious?"

"Yeah."

"Then...I want to see your dad's gallery."

He looked skeptical. "We're half a block from the Met, and you want to go to my dad's?"

"I've been to the Met more times than I can count. I want to see something new."


It was kind of fun pulling up in front of the gallery in a limo, Dan decided. Even if Blair wasn't completely evil, she had still blanched at the idea of taking the subway.

There were only a few other people there, and Rufus immediately made his way over to his son. One eyebrow raised, he said, "I didn't expect to see you until tonight, Dan."

"Blair wanted to see the gallery. Blair, this is my father, Rufus Humphrey. Dad, Blair Waldorf."

She flashed a charming smile and extended her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Humphrey."

"Likewise. I've heard a lot about you, Blair."

She glanced at Dan. "None of it good, I'm sure." They all laughed awkwardly, and she added, "You have a wonderful space here."

"Thank you. Feel free to look around. I just need to talk to Dan for a minute."

When Blair wandered off, Rufus turned to his son and asked, "Weren't you supposed to be spending the day with Serena?"

"She bailed. I think she has some crazy idea that Blair and I should be friends."

"And how's that going?"

"Actually...not bad."

"I thought you told me she was evil?"

"Let's just say I'm reevaluating that assessment."

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"Yeah. Me too."

Rufus went to greet another customer, and Dan walked over to join Blair. She was standing in front of a painting, transfixed. "This is incredible," she said when he reached her side.

"I'll tell her you said so."

She looked at him, surprised. "You know the artist?"

He smiled. "You could say that. She's my mother."

"You're just full of surprises. Your mom's an artist, and your dad..."

"My dad what?" he prompted.

She grinned. "Your dad's hot." She gave a dramatic sigh. "Such a shame he didn't pass along those good looks."

He laughed. "Watch it, or I'll make you take the subway home."

---

Dan hung up the phone, irritated. It was Friday night, and Serena had bailed on yet another date. After a rocky start, their ratio of dates made to dates attended hadn’t really improved. While he knew it was just part of her personality, sometimes he wished she would actually focus on him.

At 8:15, his phone rang. Answering it, he asked, “What are you doing home on a Friday night?”

Even though he couldn’t see her, Blair rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Everyone knows nothing worthwhile starts until eleven.”

“Ah, of course.”

“So are you busy?

“No, Serena cancelled on me. Again.”

“Then you can come here. I want your opinion on something.”

“What?”

“I’ll show you when you get here.”

“Is this some kind of a trick?”

“Don’t you trust me, Cabbage Patch?”

“Should I?”

“Probably not.”


It was past nine by the time he made it to the Upper East Side, and more than once he told himself that it was a really stupid idea. Although they’d been getting along, he still half expected Blair to sic Nate and Chuck on him someday.

She opened the door wearing a long silk robe belted tight around her tiny waist. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and her face was free of makeup. Just for a moment, he was stunned. Most days, he forgot that she was beautiful.

“Nice outfit,” he finally said.

She rolled her eyes—she did that a lot—and said, “I’m getting ready to go out.”

“So what did you want to show me?”

“Follow me.”

She led him up to her bedroom, and it occurred to him that he’d never been in there. He and Serena had stopped by a few times, but he’d always stayed downstairs.

It was a beautiful room, but it didn’t look like Blair. It didn’t look like anyone, really, except maybe the interior designer who decided what was appropriately stylish and luxurious for a Waldorf. “Turn around,” she told him.

The bold colors were startling against the sedate walls. That, he thought, was Blair. “You bought my mother’s painting.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am.”

“Why? I told you that I liked it.”

He turned to look at her, a half-smile on his face. “I just wouldn’t think you’d want to wake up to something that reminds you of me.”

As soon as he said the words, he felt something change. This, he decided, was dangerous territory.

“There are worse things to wake up to,” she said softly.

“Blair…”

“You know what I liked about that day?”

“What?”

“You asked me what I wanted to do. No one asks me what I want. My mother gives orders, Nate barely pays attention at all, and Serena…Serena assumes everyone wants to do what she wants.”

He turned back to study the painting again. “So what do you want?” he asked.

She laughed, soft and frustrated. “I don’t even know half the time. I think…I think I’d like my life to not always be a competition.”

“Serena’s not your enemy.”

“No, she’s my best friend, which is worse. I’ve spent my life watching everyone choose her. My mother does it. Even Nate did it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he realized that he genuinely meant it.

“Thanks…but I also know you’d rather be with Serena tonight.”

He wanted to deny it, to assure her that it wasn’t true. But he didn’t want to lie to her, so he didn’t say anything at all.

“I need to finish getting ready,” she said abruptly.

“Yeah, I should get going. See you Monday?”

“Sure. Monday.”

---

Dan glanced at his watch, and sprinted for the elevator at the Palace. He, Serena, Blair, and Nate were going on a double date, and he was running late.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologized as soon as Serena opened the door.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “Nate and Blair aren’t coming anyway.”

“What? Why not?”

“They broke up. Technically, Nate broke up with her, but the result is the same.”

He felt anger wash over him. “Why would he do that?”

Serena shrugged. “I guess he finally decided to stand up to his dad. In Nate’s mind, that means no Dartmouth…and no Blair.”

“Is she okay? Maybe we should go over there.”

She gave him an odd look. “I offered, but Blair said no.” She stepped closer, laced her fingers with his. “She reminded me that I’ve cancelled on you too many times as it is.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, surprised that Blair had urged Serena to choose him. “Let’s go.”

The date that night was strained. Their conversation kept faltering during dinner, and he realized it had been over a month since they’d gone out, just the two of them. Halfway through the movie, he turned to tell her something funny, and remembered it was an inside joke he had with Blair.

They decided not to go out after the movie, heading back to the Palace instead. When they reached her door, he said, “We’re not very good at this, are we?”

Her smile was a little sad. “You noticed?”

“Serena, I…”

“Hey. Don’t. Don’t try to explain it. It’s fine. We gave it our best shot. No hard feelings.”

“So we’re breaking up.”

“Were we ever really together?”

“No, I guess not.”

She let herself into the suite, and turned back to face him. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Take good care of Blair.”

He just smiled as she shut the door.


Blair barely paid attention as Roman Holiday played on the plasma. She wondered how long it would take before Nate went to Serena, feeding her some line about how it had been her all along. She thought Serena might play hard to get, explaining that she was with Dan. In the end, she knew, the inevitable would happen. After all, Serena and Nate were perfectly golden together.

The servants had all gone home, and her mother had gone out for the evening. When someone knocked on the door, she glared daggers at it. It was probably Serena, bearing Godiva, Dom, and sympathy. As if she needed sympathy.

But it wasn’t Serena on the other side of the door. “I don’t need your pity, Cabbage Patch,” she practically snarled.

He barged in before she could shut the door in his face. “Good thing that’s not why I’m here.”

“I thought you were out with Serena.”

“I was. Now I’m not.”

Why did she feel like they weren’t talking about the same thing? “What are you doing here, then?”

“Serena told me about you and Nate, obviously.”

“I already told you…”

He stepped closer, and she forced herself not to step back. “This isn’t about sympathy. I just want to know if you’re okay.”

She blinked up at him. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fine.”

He shot a pointed look at the half-eaten pint of Ben & Jerry’s on the table. “Really?”

She scowled. “Look, it’s not like I didn’t see it coming. We dated forever, he slept with my best friend, and he still wouldn’t have sex with me. I’d say the writing was on the wall.”

He looked stunned. “You mean you two never…”

She flushed scarlet. “No. Happy now?”

“He’s an even bigger idiot than I thought.”

“You’re really not helping. Maybe you should just go.”

“But I haven’t even told you why I’m here.”

“Fine. Why are you here?”

“Serena and I broke up tonight.”

“Gee, that didn’t take long.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Nate’s available now.”

“Wow. How is it even possible for someone like you to be so insecure?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Serena didn’t dump me for Nate. We broke up because she realized I’m not interested in her.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

“We went on our date tonight, and it sucked. Do you know why?”

She shook her head.

“Because you weren’t there. Look, I realize I’m not Nate, and I’m probably an idiot for even thinking you don’t hate my guts. But I want to be with you, Blair. Not Serena. So figure out what you want and let me know.”

He turned to walk out, and everything in her screamed to stop him. But the words wouldn’t come.

He glanced back, once, and then he was gone.

---

Now that he and Serena were broken up, Dan finally felt comfortable walking into the Palace. The concierge greeted him by name, and Mrs. van der Woodsen actually smiled at him. He and Serena actually spent more time together now than they had when they were dating.

It had been two weeks since the most anti-climactic break-up in history. They had finally figured out how to be friends, with no more awkward stammering or deafening silences.

In contrast, he hadn’t spoken to Blair since that night. She had risen from the ashes of her break-up with Nate to become the Blair Waldorf of old, the bitchy ice queen he had hated without even knowing her. She brushed past him when Serena dragged him to parties, acting like they had never met.

Erik answered the door to the suite. “Hey, Dan. Go on back, she’s expecting you.”

When Dan walked into the bedroom, Serena was nowhere in sight. “Blair? What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Where’s Serena?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Out.”

“Look, Blair, I get it. You don’t want anything to do with me. But if you think you can stop me from being friends with Serena, it’s not going to work.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why?”

“Because I finally know what I want.”

“You’ve made it pretty clear it’s not me, so can we hurry this up?”

“I need to show you something first.”

“Fine, what?”

“Come with me.”

Sure he was going to regret it, he followed her out of the hotel, where a car was waiting for them.

The ride to her house was short but uncomfortable, neither of them speaking, or even looking at each other. They stayed silent as they got out of the car and he followed her up to her bedroom.

As he crossed the threshold, Dan stopped and stared. The entire room had been gutted, the walls repainted, the furniture replaced. Contemporary, but not quite modern, it was all clean lines and rich colors. It looked, he decided, very Blair. The only thing he recognized was his mother’s painting, still given pride of place on the wall.

“Wow. It’s really…different,” he said lamely.

She sat down primly on the bed. “It is. I got tired of having what was given to me, instead of what I wanted.”

“And what you wanted was…new sheets?”

“Not exactly. But when all else fails, I go shopping.”

“This is all very enlightening, Blair, but I think I should go.”

When he turned to leave, he told himself he wasn’t going to look back. “Dan.” He stopped, unsure if she had ever used his name before.

Slowly he turned around, to find her standing right in front of him.

She sighed. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Should I?”

“Probably not.”

“Fine.” She took another step closer, her eyes never leaving his. “It’s you, Dan. What I want…is you.”

He smiled down at her. “You could have told me that without waiting two weeks to redecorate.”

“I was trying to make a…”

He cut off her protest with a kiss. “We really need to work on your communication skills,” he murmured against her mouth.

“My communication skills are just fine,” she countered, catching his lower lip gently between her teeth.

“Two weeks of silent treatment isn’t communicating,” he argued, threading his hands through her hair.

“Are you saying it wasn’t worth it?” she asked, toying with the top button on his shirt.

At that point, he wasn’t saying anything at all.