A/N: I know Serena/Tripp is all the rage now, but I can't help it. I shipped Blair/Tripp since before I even heard he was coming back on the show and I will continue to do so even if STripp ends up married or something. Here's a drabble. Enjoy.

La Fille du Rêve

"Stay away from Serena. What you're doing, it's not good for either of you." She slid like a dream onto the bar stool beside him. He closed his eyes to smell her perfume.

He raised a hand at the bartender and ordered her a martini. He was no billionaire, but he could still buy her a drink, right? "We're just working together."

"Right. That's why you hired a high school graduate for a job that people go to college for. Serena's my best friend, but don't insult my intelligence by trying to convince me that she's remotely qualified for the job." Her lips made a pale pink impression on the rim of the glass and he wanted to lock it in a glass box.

"She's learning." A curl fell to the front of her bare shoulder and his eyes trailed down her dress. She looked good in red.

"She's a girl with a crush on a married man and you're no better by encouraging her."

It's true. Serena was beautiful - obviously so. She was uncomplicated and conventional and he knew he would just be a stop along the way. She was the very opposite of her best friend, who was an acquired taste but one that lingered on your tongue even long after it's all over. Blair was the wine you ached for - that one glass you had at a friend's house that you could never find again and every time you take a drink, all you could think about was her and you would try every other wine to wash out the taste.

"So stop it. Stop it before this ruins her. Stop it before this ruins your marriage." She let out a frustrated sigh. "Jesus, Tripp. You've barely been married for a year and you're already- is that how quickly you jump from woman to woman? You're Nate's cousin, after all." She ran her scarlet fingertips down the neck of the glass and he remembered a time not too long ago, maybe two or three years, when he had stolen a kiss right when she was doing the same thing.

Mistletoe in his pocket.

"Depends on the woman." He reached out to curl his fingers around hers and for a moment, she held on like she used to. "I've missed you, Blair."

He sounded broken even to himself and she looked at him for the first time that night, her eyes just as dark as the first time they met. He had never wanted so badly to kiss anyone.

"You're married now, Tripp, and I'm no Serena. I won't be the Marilyn to your Kennedy and I won't be your mistake either." She pat their entwined hands lightly before sliding off as gracefully as she had appeared. "Have a nice life."

He turned his head to watch her walk away, her hips swaying in her red dress and wondered if she were ever really here. It wasn't uncommon - she had appeared to him in dreams before. But there it was, that little rim of condensation of the bar and the glass beside it with the stain.

He took the half empty martini and brought it to his lips, carefully turning it so he could taste her lipstick with the gin, and downed the whole thing. He would have this, at the very least.