If you are not a spoiler-whore like I am, you may want to stop reading.

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

You've been sufficiently warned. So...there are bunches of photos of Blair fleeing her wedding/wedding reception. There are some slightly unconfirmed sources saying that Blair and Dan share a scene at JFK. The thoughts have been swirly in my mind, and I've decided to fill my GG-less hiatus with random and poorly written scenarios about what could happen.

Don't expect them to be well-planned.

Or realistic.

Or at all connected to one another. My only rule is that Dan and Blair have to go to JFK in their wedding outfits (which is kind of ridiculous but par for the course for this show).

Oh, and feedback is awesome, so feel free to leave some if you have a moment.

x

o

x

o

He had promised Alessandra.

He had promised Alessandra he wouldn't be late. A promise she didn't trust. He couldn't blame her. Skip out on your own book tour and the editor has the right to lose faith in your word.

She had texted him twice during the wedding. Called right after the coverage online. He tried to assuage her - resting on the fact that being in a royal wedding party might help his sales. Help her build her reputation at the publishing house.

She asked if Clair was Blair because that really would boost their sales. He avoided the question.

Leaving the reception had been easy. He slipped out virtually unnoticed, still decked out in a full tuxedo. He didn't say goodbye to his father. Rufus already knew he had to leave for California to discuss his rebrokered movie deal. He didn't say goodbye to Serena, mostly because he didn't even think to. The only person who stopped him was Eleanor. She hugged him, uncharacteristically so, and whispered, "Thank you" in his ear.

He wasn't sure why he deserved a 'thank you'. All he did was show up, stand still while his heart broke into tiny diamond-sized pieces that now draped carelessly around Blair's neck and finger, and then leave before the cake.

He arrived at JFK on time, but he didn't stop to change out of his tux. He had promised Alessandra he wouldn't be late, and he intended on keeping his word. When he settled down in the terminal, he finally took a breath. He felt the weight of day crush him as the air exited his lungs.

Blair had been beautiful. Perfection barely adequate as a description. When she strolled down the pink-laced aisle, his breath had caught in his throat in a way that betrayed his bridal party role. He memorized her blossomed-stained lips as she said, "I do," - secretly hoping that those simple words would kill a feeling.

They couldn't.

He was still stranded with his feelings for her. They made for lonely acquaintances.

He texted Alessandra back. In the terminal. I won't let you down. He heard his plane's boarding number called, and he shifted towards to line. He thought, maybe California would help him move on. Sun and fun and tan people could serve as a distraction. Maybe he would find inspiration in the form of leggy blonde. You know, regress a little to a simpler time. Before books and coffee and midnight pizza. Before Chloe strappy heels finding a home under his couch. Before her happiness was paramount, and he would sacrifice any pride he had in order to give it to her.

And, maybe her blossom-stained "I do" wouldn't haunt him in a new time zone.

"Humphrey."

And now he was hearing things.

"Humphrey." The tone had become kind of shrill and urgent and distinctively Blair. A little breathless too.

"Blair?" He stepped out of line.

"You didn't say goodbye," she said. Her chest was rising and lowering at an unusually quick pace, and he wondered if she had been running. It was a ridiculous thought as he watched her pool her long white train around her feet. Who could run in Vera Wang?

"You're in a wedding dress." Smoother words could have been found, but they weren't.

She smiled. Maybe the first real smile he has seen grace her lips all day. "You're a master of observation."

"Last boarding call," blasted over the speaker.

He had promised Alessandra he wouldn't be late, and he was starting to feel bad because he was about to break his word.

"Is that your flight?"

"Yes," he said looking back at the line slowly diminishing.

"You should probably board then."

He felt his brow bunch. Confusion contort his face. Had she come all this way here to tell him to board his plane? "But you're in a wedding dress," he stated simply.

She stared at him for a good thirty seconds and then said, "And I don't want you to be the kind of guy who misses out because he's waiting on a girl."

He tilted his head. Studied her face and her still blossom-stained lips. Caught a glimpse of her ringless finger. Her hand clutching something. "You want me to leave?" he questioned. "You do realize you're here in a wedding dress? Which implies you left your wedding. We can talk about it. I can get the next flight. It won't be a problem." Let the rambling begin, he thought.

"Fine," she said, moving towards the boarding gates. "I guess I'll leave without you."

"What is going on?" he demanded. The frustration of the day, the last several months really, crying out across the almost bare room.

She laughed and then displayed a rectangular piece of paper. "I'm going to California. You better board before I come to my senses and change my mind."

Dan grabbed his bag. He had promised Alessandra he wouldn't be late. And he was about to keep his word.