She's not known for her brash impulsiveness—she'll save that for Serena and her beau du jour—but she can't help but feel like, in that moment, they're Benjamin and Elaine after the credits rolled. As in "oh-God-what-the-hell-did-we-just-do?—as if the answer wasn't obvious.

The road's rolling under them—no, they're rolling over the road, in a thing that could barely be called a car.

They haven't spoken two words to each other since they left. There's nothing to say that their actions aren't already saying for them.

Everything's changed and nothing's changed all in the same breath—she's still Blair Waldorf, queen of her domain, and he's still Dan, just Dan—no, that part's changing in front of her eyes. He's not even realizing it, not doing it consciously, but he's becoming someone else, someone who she could—maybe, just maybe—fall for.

Except, she thinks with a smile as he puts one hand over hers and turns another corner, she probably already has.

It's the journey, after all, not the destination.

They'll worry about the reactions of everyone else later, when they come back from their little excursion away—for now, it's just the two of them, and she intends to relish it.