A/N: So believe it or not, this story idea has been floating around in my head for over two years now. I intended on writing it as a tribute to the International Day of Femslash 2009, however at the time I didn't feel capable enough to write good femslash. And truthfully, I still don't feel like I'm entirely there yet, though I am an avid femslash reader! This story, on the other hand, was just itching to get out, and with the lack of Jo/Blair stories out there (surprisingly), I had simply made this fiction into reality in my head for two years until I couldn't take the fact that it wasn't down on paper yet. Anywho, this is my first fanfiction in over four years, and my first ever femslash, so please, enjoy!

Title: Some Nights

Summary: Some nights Blair just needs some extra help to get to sleep. Blair/Jo Femslash.

Some night's there's something real different about Blair. It's like she's this whole 'nother person that she never lets anybody see. It's not anything she says or nothin', in fact, she barely even talks at all. And that's the thing!

It started this one night, not long after we began sharing the room above the Eastland cafeteria. Tootie and Natalie were already asleep, and I was lyin' on my back, in bed with my eyes shut tryin' to figure out how much longer it would take for me to save up for a new helmet for my bike. I could hear Blair shiftin' around in her bed but I was doin' my best to ignore her; believe me, the longer you know her, the harder she makes it for ya. When there was no more I could do in my own head, I turned onto my side to call it a night. I hadn't been asleep for more than a few minutes, when I feel Blair slipping into my bed beside me.

"Blair, whattare you doin'?" I whisper, realizing that my mouth is almost directly over her ear.

She doesn't answer me, she only takes my arm and wraps it around her waist. I hear a soft 'shhh' leave her lips as she presses her body closer to mine. There's something about it. At first I just wanna move her away, but it's like she feels safe here, and for the first time since I known her it's like she's completely harmless, like you don't believe that a single bark or bite can come out of this innocent, blonde, little girl. Ha! Even in my head that seemed silly, "innocent" is the last thing a person would ever think about Blair.

I stay how I am and I worry for minute what Nat or Tootie might think in the morning when they wake up and see us like this, but between the lilac smell of Blair's hair close to my nose and the rhythm of her calm breathing against me, I fall asleep before figurin' the consequences.

I shoot up the next morning at the sound of Tootie's voice. Damnit! I think to myself, knowin' I never have the words to explain any of Blair's actions, and certainly none to explain last night. But once I'm sitting upright, I realize that I'm alone in my bed, and Tootie stops mid-sentence, givin' me a worried glance.

"Jo, are you alright?"

"I bet she's recovering from a wet dream about joining the rodeo." I follow the snarky comment back to Blair, who is sitting on her fancy bed, all made, in her Eastland uniform brushing through her smooth hair.

I look around the room again, and all three of 'em are ready for class. "It's 7:45! Why didn't anyone wake me up?"

"We tried," Natalie says, shruggin' her shoulders at me.

"But you looked so adorable clutching onto your blanket, we thought: why wake you?" Her sarcasm was spittin' out from between her teeth and I felt a hint of rage build toward her.

"Blair!" I retort. She looks at me as though last night never even happened, and I start thinkin' that maybe it was just one of my wilder dreams since I landed in this school. "Our class starts in 15 minutes, and not everyone can call daddy to fake a doctor's note for them!"

"Actually, it was for a family rendez-vous in Paris."

The second time it happened was a few weeks later during a thunderstorm. I felt the sheets rustle under me and before I could even open my I eyes, the silk of Blair's favorite powder pink nightgown was slippin' along my thigh and there was no guessin' it was her next to me.

"Blair…Blair!" I call out to her in a whisper, so that our roommates don't hear. I know she can hear me but she doesn't respond.

With the next crack of lightnin' and the earth-quaking boom that follows, I can feel her breathing quicker and her heart skip a little.

"Shhhhhh," I try to comfort her. I'd never done this sorta thing before, makin' sure that another girl or anyone wasn't afraid of a storm. In the city, we never cared over stuff like that. Truck engines, thunder, honkin', firecrackers, lightnin', yellin', it was all the same noise, ya know? But she seemed really scared and all, so I began runnin' my fingers over her hair from behind, which, I was surprised, was really as soft as she made it look, and continued shushing her, until one or both of us fell asleep.

The next morning was the same as the last. I woke up to another empty bed.

With all the tests at school, and workin' hard in the kitchen all I day, I began to think I was goin' nuts! I wasn't sure whether I was dreamin' this whole other side of Blair because a parta me was startin' to believe that she could truly be that way, or if the nights we spent in bed together were real. But it was that third time she came into my bed that really had me convinced…

I remember that day Mrs. Garrett excused Blair from havin' to clean up dinner with the rest of us on accounta her dad callin' her earlier. Blair went into the other room to call him back, and I'm not so sure what happened, since I'm no snoop or nothin'. But from what Tootie said, they spent 45 minutes fightin' and screamin' at each other until Blair hung up on the guy.

I didn't see her again until she came into the room that night ready, for bed. The other girls were already asleep and I watched her spend a few minutes tossin' and turnin' in her own bed a few minutes before joinin' me in mine.

This time my eyes were wide open as I watched her crawl in beside me. And for the very first time she didn't turn away from me the way she did the other times. We were facin' each other and she looked straight at me. Through the darkness I could see some tears runnin' down her cheeks and underneath our breathin' I could hear a few of her soft whimpers.

Before I could bring myself to think about it, I was wipin' the tears away from her face with my fingers, ya know, hopin' it would reassure her somehow.

"Oh, Jo," I heard her cry softly. She took two fistfuls of my t-shirt and pulled herself closer to me. I could already feel my shirt get wet with her tears but she was nice and warm and all, and she needed me. So I put my arm around'er and helped her closer, and then placed a small kiss on her forehead.

I held'er there for a while as I drifted in and outta consciousness, before I could feel her lift her head a little from my chest. She began peckin' kisses along my neck, up to my chin. And when her lips were almost aligned with mine, she whispered, "Thank you, Jo."

As I rubbed her back, I nodded a bit to acknowledge that I heard her, and in that, my lower lip accidentally grazed her upper one. I remember how soft it was. I was scared she would think somethin' of it, so I pulled my head back pretty quickly. But when she felt me move, she just lifted her arm from between us and used it to bring me back closer to her face. Her lips met mine and her tongue slivered its way into my mouth, where it danced a few gentle circles around my tongue before she pulled away. It was kinda wow. I remember thinkin' to myself at that moment that I finally knew why she hadn't been dateless since 1979.

Before I could fully process tingle I felt from her lips' absence, she said, a little more clearly, and more like herself this time, "I really mean it."

I held her pressed to me for the rest of the night, urgent to feel more of her, because she left me thinkin', in my half-awake mind, that maybe I needed her too. At around 5 a.m. when the sun began to creep in, I felt her get up and go back to her own bed and suddenly the space between my arms felt cool.

When she lay back down she was faced away from me, but I refused to let myself doubt this time around. Either way, I figured, it didn't matter. The truth of it all would sting come morning when she went back to being Blair.

It's been a little over a year now since the first night Blair came into my bed, and a lotta nights she still does. Some nights she kisses me, moves my hair away from my face, and runs over it with her fingers. Some nights her fingers find their way under my t-shirt, over my stomach and all the way to my breasts. She said one night that she would love to draw me sometime, and I seem to recall the word "nude" followed under her breath. Some nights, she pushes our beds together, and other nights we just lie nextto each other, listenin' to the other breathe and whatnot.

And on some nights, not too often, but some nights, I crawl into her bed, and let her hold me. Because if there's something I learned from sleeping next to Blair Warner, it's that some nights, everybody needs a somebody.