This would be a follow up to 'Dreams Made of Reality' . Both of them are different but I sort of had to put this up as a continuation because it references events from before which would seem random if I put this up separately. I know this is sort of different from Dan's view but after I began writing it , it kind of ran it's own course after which I basically lost control. So sorry if it wasn't what you were expecting.

Also a gazillion thanks to Bright123, my awesome-tastical beta. I dedicate this fic to her. Before I sent it to her I was basically wringing my hands pathetically over the fic but she really cleaned it up. :)

Disclaimer : I don't own Coco Mademoiselle by Chanel, Starbucks , Herve Leger or GG. It's evident that I'm a pathetic failure.

She isn't exactly a scrupulous person. She does twist certain things around to her advantage but somewhere deep down, beneath the layers of polish, class and status, she's a somewhat good person. It's just that the Upper East Side has no use for goodness.

Absolutely no use at all.

So she just packs it away under layers and layers, till the real Blair Waldorf is safely hidden from heartache and suffering and petty arguments.

Sometimes she wishes, mind you almost, not fully, but maybe just a little, that she has a steady conscience, like that of Dan Humphrey's. But once again the Upper East Side has no use for a conscience.

They like to live by this motto of "Once a bitch, always a bitch".

And sometimes it becomes a burden, aiming for perfection all the time and having people around you, just waiting to watch you fall from grace and hoping your demise entertains.

But spending time with Dan is different. Sure he judges her too, at first. But at least he's willing to acknowledge that she can change. It boosts her confidence that at least someone other than her father, someone who isn't related to her has faith in her.

And with him she finds all of her layers slowly peeling back. It's an interesting experience, further compounded by the fact that Dan is the one causing all the layers to peel back.

She likes it.


She's been spending quite a lot of time with him now. It all started with filling in for Serena at the coffee shop but it's progressed to her dropping in at his house whenever she wants, whenever she feels like it, and him dropping in at her house sometimes, always announced.

She likes the feel of his house better than hers. It's homely and lived in and despite her reservations, spotless and clean. And Rufus always has something wonderful cooking and more often than not she ends up eating at their place and then going home and picking at her food, leaving her mother to wonder if her daughter is alright. She's more alright than ever, thanks to Dan.

She's even becoming friends with Jenny again. It's inevitable that they bond over fashion and their shared dislike of Vanessa, a topic everyone avoids.

Slowly there are signs of her that are pervading the house. There are hydrangeas around every corner, sweet and clean, Rufus seems to be testing out more and more French recipes and Dan often finds some of his books missing though they always eventually come back, smelling ever so slightly of begonias.

It's all good though. She's a welcome addition to the family, always in the thick of things unlike Serena who always seemed to stand forlornly on the peripheries, watching.


It's a Saturday and she drops into Brooklyn casually dressed without even her customary handbag. She's got a reading she wants to go to and Dan is her chosen companion. Technically her only companion but that doesn't bother her, considering, oddly enough, that if she had other options she would have chosen him anyways.

Rufus lets her in and she smiles and greets him before waltzing to Dan's room as she's done numerous times before. She opens the door without knocking and walks in to find, Dan standing, half-wrapped in a towel, wet and dripping. There's look of shock on his face and she's fairly sure she's red.

It's one of those few times where Blair Waldorf has been struck speechless. And technically Dan should feel proud. But what she doesn't know is that, that is the last thing running through his mind because all he can think of is how he wishes the situation was reversed.

Because dear sweet God, he'd die a happy boy then.

She shuts the door hurriedly, with none of her usual panache and makes her way to the kitchen, her cheeks still flaming and tries to regain something left of her composure.

A few moments later Dan comes out, tripping almost in his haste to see if Blair is still there.

Rufus doesn't miss the sigh of relief emanating from his son and nor does he miss the blush on Blair's cheeks.

Noticing all of this, he smiles. There is something a-brewing in the air and to him it smells deliciously like romance.


Blair spends the rest of the day with Dan and everything seems normal. Through silent agreement, both of them don't mention the morning's… incident.

It's only later on in the night when Blair climbs into bed does she allow herself to think of it.

A half-naked Dan with rivulets of water running down his body is the stuff fantasies are made of. She can't believe that such a body exists under those shirts and vests and the almost bordering on skinny jeans he wears.

Moreover she can't believe the said body belongs to Dan Humphrey.

Before she falls asleep, the last thought in her head is that someday Dan is going to make some woman very happy with his mixture of looks, charm, intelligence and a smoking hot body.

She almost wishes it were her.

Once again, she notes the almost.


The next day she awakes with a start, landing painfully on the floor.

She has just had a dream. She doesn't know if it quite qualifies as a nightmare or a fantasy, considering she certainly enjoyed it, but as of now, it horrified her.

Should dreaming of her good friend Dan in an entirely un-friendly manner qualify it as a nightmare even though it was definitely pleasant?

Blair has never been so confused in her life as she rushes to the bathroom to wash away the last remnants of sleep and the slivers of distorted reality that are floating around in her head.

She steps out of the bathroom wet and awake and wrapped in a towel but all it takes is one look in the mirror for the images to come flooding back.

She has a problem.

And she has the uneasy feeling that it's here to stay.


The next day she meets him again, this time in Starbucks. And when he asks for his latte, she chokes because now even his voice seems to doing things to her. He hurriedly gets her a bottle of water and after she takes a sip, she can feel the color slowly return to her cheeks with renewed force as his gaze zeroes in on her face.

"Choking on air?" he asks with a mischievous smile, referring back to that all important original meeting where she saw him as something more than just Lonely Boy.

"Very funny Humphrey," she manages to say before a fit of coughing overtakes her once more. He soothingly rubs circles over her back, sending heat flashes and tingles across her body and she muses that the combination of Dan Humphrey and the air that she breathes can be quite dangerous.

He leads her out of the coffee shop, his arm around her waist and Blair decides that it's time for her to stop acting like an idiot. This madness is temporary and like everything this too, shall pass.

But spending time in close proximity with him makes her realize that she quite likes the faint smell of cologne and soap that hangs around him. Something about it is very soothing and exciting at the same time.

She then steps away from him and his closeness, mutters something about having to go and runs away to the safety of her house leaving behind a bewildered and slightly dazed Dan Humphrey who unknown to her has been metaphorically turning cartwheels ever since holding her in his arms.

She gets home, a little flustered and a little frustrated. She likes Dan, considering he's been such a friend to her, and to rid herself of these ideas, she decides to re-evaluate whatever has been happening so far. She thinks back, goes over every little detail and analyses it to bits until she makes a shocking discovery. She realizes that she likes Dan Humphrey and has liked him ever since he suggested she pick a ruby red Herve Léger.

She likes him not because he's making her somebody else but simply because he helps her be the better, real girl. She likes him because around him, she's Blair a seventeen year old girl who is actually nice and not Blair Waldorf, Queen Bitch of Upper East Side.

And she discovers she has a million different reasons for liking him. And for once they are not based on looks, status or money, though his looks are definitely no problem.

She smacks her head in frustration because it's just her luck to like someone who seems to be neck deep in infatuation with some other girl who he adores endlessly.

It's like Serena and Nate and her all over again… and she still gets the short end of the stick.

And for the first time in moths she has a tantrum of epic proportions which ends in her throwing her brand new Coco Mademoiselle by Chanel perfume onto the street and spending the rest of day furiously baking pumpkin pies.

Dorota, who really is always there, bless her, keeps everyone else, especially her mother away from the kitchen and for that she is thankful. Because the last thing she needs is Eleanor Waldorf calling her out on her tantrum of epic proportions.

At night she falls into bed, tired and exhausted and she finally feels tears running down her face, because dammit she's tired of falling for someone who's pining for someone else.

But fate seems to have cruelly picked her a second time for this game.

Well, she's got news for fate. This time she isn't down without a fight. Blair isn't going to lose. And with that lovely thought, she's finally able to close her eyes.


Soon enough she begins on her plan. Its mission- Get Dan to notice her. And everyone in his house seems wise to her plans because Rufus is all encouraging and Jenny is constantly dropping hints to Dan. But the boy at the centre of all of this seems quite delightfully clueless.

He interacts with her, the same as before, with dry humor and earnestness and Blair actually wants to throw up her hands in despair. Is the boy dense? Can he not see or is she simply oblivious?

She learns a bit more about mystery girl and personally wishes she could strangle her. Because this stupid mystery girl who isn't even there in person manages to mess everything up.

She's got Jenny on the lookout to glean a little more information but it turns out that Dan is as tight lipped as they make them. However Jenny has this to say, whenever Dan's not with Blair, the girl is all he thinks about. Jenny knows this simply because the difference between a spaced out Dan and fully in possession of all his mental faculties - Dan is very obvious.

And it's obvious to her that she needs to step up the game.

Dan likes strawberries doesn't he?

Well she's got a plan involving strawberries and a whole lot of cream. And she's already licking her lips in anticipation.


A few days later she turns up at Dan's house with strawberries in hand. It's a good thing Rufus and Jenny are out because trying out this strawberry business in front of them would be the death of her.

"I brought you strawberries," she says with a cheerful smile.

And the look on his face matches that of a little child who's got a brand new toy. He eagerly takes the box from her and rips it open popping one of the strawberries into his mouth. The look on his face is almost orgasmic and she feels her knees go weak cause God does he look adorable and sexy at the same time. Nate can only manage the adorable and Chuck can only manage the sexy. Dan, on the other hand, seems to have the perfect grasp of both.

And for a second Blair feels jealous of Serena because Serena got to keep him for such a long while. And she also happened to be the girl of his dreams. She wonders whether Serena is still the girl of his dreams.

It is possible isn't it?

Serena would always be the 'It' girl. Unattainable and elusive and always the girl of his dreams.

She feels the faint stirrings of jealousy intermingled with a little pain. Because Serena will always be her best friend and worst enemy.

Screw the strawberries; all she wants to go home and do now is cry. She excuses herself, her voice sounding thin and reedy even to her ears and flees before the tears which are so dangerously close to falling, fall.

So she flees, leaving behind a bewildered Dan and a box of strawberries that seem to have lost all of their sweetness.


She goes home and weeps and weeps and weeps, exhausted by everything and refusing to even talk to her father.

It's seven in the night and she rises from her bed and wet pillow and makes her way to the bathroom. She takes a look at herself in the mirror and cringes because the girl looking back at her would never be Blair Waldorf.

But today she is and she's planning on staying that way because sometimes there's nothing better than wallowing in your own misery.

She's just going to hop back into bed with a box of truffles when Dan walks in. Ordinarily she would have protested at this breach of privacy and have him thrown out peremptorily but Dan looks the very definition of pissed.

His face is pale and she can see a vein pulsing in his neck. His normally warm brown eyes have taken on a hard glint.

She is almost , note the almost, scared despite her own problems.

"You," he says, "you are going to be the death of me."

She's a little confused here because she doesn't how she's causing his death when he's supposed to be the one causing hers. She's going to correct this mistake when he just steams ahead.

"Do you know I have dreams of you? That I have been having dreams of you? Dreams that I should not be dreaming. They torment me and you torment me by just being there, taking me one step forward and then two steps back. Sometime I feel that you know that I like you and suddenly you are back to being friends and I feel like a fucking idiot for thinking that and God, you just drive me so mad."

Will someone please for the love of God, make her a map that leads to whatever seems to be coming out of Dan Humphrey's mouth.

"So I make you mad because you like me and dream about?" she asks hazily deducing the gist of his speech.

"Something along those lines," he grumpily admits plopping down on the floor, the very picture of dejection.

Sometimes she thinks book smarts so do not count for intelligence. And Dan and she are prime ironic examples of it.

She sits down her floor next to him and stretches out her legs before.

"Well, you would have understood why I was taking two steps backward, if you had looked a little closer." She says a little miffed. It's his turn to look a little bewildered.

"If you kept going on and on about a mystery girl who seemed to be better than me, what did you expect me to do, wear my heart on a sleeve?" she demands.

"The mystery girl was you," he bursts out incredulously. "Did you not notice how freakily similar she was to you?"

He becomes indignant, proclaiming "How could I tell you, that you were her when you seemed to only want to be friends? I might as well have written pathetic on my head."

"Oh," is her only intelligent response. She never once noticed the similarities between her and the mystery girl.

"Then maybe you should have said something before," she says mutinously, pursing her lips, because she'll go to hell before she admits her ignorance.

"Yeah and if I'd told you I liked you before, you would probably have me expelled or something," he says dryly.

She nods thoughtfully because he does have a point. And here is the part where she's going to make it right. Even if being humble is so not her thing but for once she's willing to be the bigger person.

"Well, I was initially going to drive the mystery girl out of your thoughts, because when I'm there you shouldn't have to think of anybody else," he smiles at this bit of self-confidence or vanity, whatever you want to call it, "but then I thought maybe the girl was Serena. And you know that I can't compare with Serena." She finishes sadly.

"You can't compare with Serena because you and she are different. So comparisons would be basically pointless and skewed. You each have your own charms. And I happen to like your's better. Otherwise I don't think I'd be having dreams about you." he finishes off logically.

And just because she wants she plants a kiss on his lips. It takes him by surprise but he admirably rises to the challenge. Whatever may be his failings Dan Humphrey has his own merits which she very much appreciates.

When they finally break apart, she's breathless and he's breathless too and a little dazed. She smirks because she tends to have that effect and hopes he doesn't notice that she feels just as giddy.

"While this was lovely and I would very much like to continue, your Mom is sitting outside and waiting for you so I have to go." He says getting up and pulling her up with him.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" he asks.

"You bet you will." She says, her formerly missing in action panache returning triumphantly.

"By the way, what were the strawberries for?" he asks

"They were supposed to lead to something along the lines of your dreams." She says mischievously.

"Crap, I can't believe I missed that. See you Waldorf." He says, the disappointment on his face is comical.

"See you Humphrey."

He exits from her bedroom barely making it out before her mother and Cyrus and Dorota enter the room.

"I'm fine." She says warding off all the concerned enquiries.

And this time she really means it, despite her appearance and make-up stating otherwise.


The next day she shows up at his doorstep and he opens the door, flowers in his hand.

"For you," he says handing her a bunch of deep red roses. They are not hydrangeas but she doesn't mind because she likes roses too.

She sniffs them appreciatively and leaves them on the kitchen counter. She then turns her gaze on him, where he's watching her, leaning against the bookshelves.

She's probably mentioned this before but the sight of Dan and books kind of turns her into jelly. Not that she's letting him know though.

"So what kind of dreams did you have?" she asks neutrally though a tiny little dimple peeps out of her cheek.

The question doesn't throw him off like she expects it to. Instead he smirks and responds with an unholy gleam in his eyes.

"The kind that would make Chuck Bass jealous."

"Care to demonstrate?" she asks moving forward. This would pretty much be the culmination of all her pent-up feelings which came into existence the moment she saw him standing wet and half-naked, all confused.

"Always a pleasure," he says moving forward to meet her lips. It's such a Chuck line but when coming from Dan, it doesn't sound as sleazy. It sounds sweet.

He maybe from Brooklyn and she maybe from the Upper East side and they may be complete opposites but right now they are just two teenagers, who happen to really like each other. Nothing else matters and nothing else should.

Because isn't life all about living for the moment?

This is a very good moment.