Chapter Text
Dan Humphrey groaned when his mobile went off at 2 am in the morning. Ugh. It’d better not be a butt-dial/drunk-dial/attempted-booty-call from Georgina again. Reluctant to get out from the warm haven of his blankets, he groggily stuck an arm out in the darkness and fumbled for his phone on the dresser.
Dan squinted at the sudden brightness from his phone screen. It was an incoming call from…Blair Waldorf?!
To say that Dan Humphrey and Blair Waldorf had not left things off on good terms was an understatement.
When Blair left Dan for billionaire Chuck Bass two years ago, Dan was heartbroken, enraged and bitter. He’d decided to exact his vengeance on the Upper East Side by posting scathing, vindictive exposés about his friends and family, which included Blair and her best friend, Serena van der Woodsen.
Back then, Blair had made it exceedingly clear that she wanted nothing more to do with Dan Humphrey.
So when Serena and Dan got back together, Blair made her disapproval of the couple very apparent. The brunette glared icy daggers at him at Thanksgiving last year (Serena had dragged him there as an admittedly futile attempt to get her boyfriend and best friend to get along), and proceeded to haul Serena aside for a “private” conversation.
Dan tried not to eavesdrop (lies, he totally eavesdropped), but there was some hissing involved, and he was pretty sure he heard the phrases “hypocrite”, “pathetic loser” and “he’s just using you again, S” being thrown around. The incident was duly shrugged off — Dan figured that he probably (no, definitely) deserved that.
And so, life went on. It was easy enough to push aside any residual feelings he had for Blair when Serena was by his side. Serena, with her twinkling blue eyes, the adorable way she scrunched her nose, that carefree laugh and the biggest, kindest heart of anyone he’d ever known. Serena, who’d been the girl of his dreams since high school.
For the past two weeks, Serena had been in LA, promoting her latest film. She had made quite a name for herself as an actress/model/influencer in the past year, and Dan couldn’t be more proud of her, happy that she seemed to have finally found her footing in life, at least for now.
However, it meant that as a couple, they were in different states from time to time (Dan held a full time Junior Editor position at Vanity Fair magazine). But that was fine. Wasn’t it healthy for couples to have a fulfilling life outside of their relationship, to have separate social lives? Besides, it made every reunion between them even sweeter, even more cherished — after all, absence does make the heart grow fonder.
Things were great as long as the golden girl was with him, and Dan was more content than he had been in a long time.
So — now that Blair Waldorf was calling him out of the blue at 2 am on a Wednesday morning — Dan Humphrey was understandably, quite bewildered indeed.
“…Blair?” Dan picked up the phone, still struggling to lift his heavy eyelids open.
“Humphrey,” the voice on the other end sounded annoyed and petulant, like she couldn’t believe she had to lower herself to call Dan Humphrey, of all people. But Dan could hear her voice wavering, a hint of thinly-disguised panic in her tone.
“It’s two in the morning, Blair,” Dan says flatly. Pointing out the obvious — real slick, Humphrey.
“You think I don’t know that, Humphrey? Look, I …I didn’t know who else to call. Serena wouldn’t pick up the phone. Besides, I need someone with your…area of expertise.”
“Whoa whoa, slow down there. What area of expertise?”
“Well, you see. Dorota’s daughter is sick so she can’t be here, the nanny’s away for the week and Chuck’s on a business trip.” Blair started to explain, in a slightly agitated tone. In the background, Dan heard a baby bawling, and Blair shushing.
Oh right, he thought. Blair had given birth to baby Henry just four months ago. Serena even organized her baby shower — as for Dan, he’d gifted the baby a Cabbage Patch Kid doll, then hastily made up some sort of excuse not to attend in a bid to avoid any potential awkwardness.
“I’m exhausted, and my baby keeps waking up and wailing! He doesn’t want to be fed, he only wants to be rocked and every time I put him down, he wakes up crying again!” Blair sounded slightly hysterical now, like she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Was it like this with Georgina’s baby too?!”
Dan’s jaw tightened and he hesitated, but only for a second. “Hang tight. I’ll be right there. In the meantime, just let him sleep in your arms.”
As he drove to the Basses' townhouse, he idly wondered if this was normal. Driving to his ex-girlfriend’s (who also happened to be his girlfriend’s best friend) house in the wee hours of the night, that is.
Dan hadn’t even spoken to Blair in almost two years since Chuck and Blair’s whirlwind wedding (and no, asking “could you pass the pie please” at Thanksgiving last year didn’t count) and yet here he was, dropping everything to rush to her aid in the middle of the night. The sense of déjà vu was unsettling, to say the least.
He reassured himself that this was most definitely considered an emergency. Plus, he was the only one in their circle who was qualified to offer baby advice. After all, he was Milo's sole caregiver for a good three months. Going to her was purely what any friend would do (even if they weren’t exactly friends at the moment).
No, it had nothing to do with the way his heart yielded whenever Blair was upset — at the sound of her voice, the sight of her pleading eyes. And it certainly had nothing to do with how he was willing to do anything — absolutely anything in a heartbeat, as long as Blair Waldorf said the word.
Absolutely nothing at all.
Dan gently pushed the bedroom door open when he arrived. It was dark and cool, with a single night light illuminating the room. A white noise machine hummed gently in the background.
Blair was in her silk nightgown, dozing off in her nursing chair, baby Henry cradled tightly in her arms.
She looked pale and exhausted, face void of make up and dark circles around her eyes. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, tendrils falling out this way and that and sticking out at awkward angles. She had traded her delicate, lace lingerie in for a more practical nursing bralette, and her nightgown had clearly seen better days — it was rumpled everywhere and had a long, slightly crusty milk stain down the front.
Even so, Dan thought she was the most damn beautiful woman he’d ever seen (Besides Serena, of course, he hastily reminded himself).
“...Humphrey?” Blair’s eyes fluttered open. “You came,” she said, her gaze hesitant. She seemed genuinely surprised that he’d made it — in spite of everything that’s happened between them.
Dan gave a small, tight-lipped smile. “Anything to help,” he said, softly. “What can I do?”
“Well, his Royal Highness here has suddenly decided that he doesn’t like this,” Blair whispered, gesturing to the bassinet. It was one of those fancy, electronic ones that automatically rocked the baby to sleep. “He wakes up and screams bloody murder the moment I put him down.”
“Did you check his temperature?”
“I did, and it’s normal. He doesn’t have a cough or cold either.”
“Then he could be going through a sleep regression, or maybe he’s teething. Sometimes they just want to be held,” Dan carefully took Henry from Blair’s arms, gently shushing and rocking the infant back to sleep when he stirred ever so slightly.
Dan and Blair shared a glance in the dark, eyes meeting for just the briefest of moments. After Blair shows him where to find the essential supplies — breast milk, sterilizer, bottles and diaper changing station — he reassures her that he has everything under control, then demands that the new mother return to her bed and get some rest.
“If you insist,” Blair yawned, climbing into her canopy bed and sinking into the soft, white sheets. She looked relieved at last, and seemed to be drifting slowly into slumber already. Dan wondered why Blair trusted him so completely with her baby, when she so clearly despised him?
He remembers the day Blair found out that Dan had cheated on her with Serena (it was a fucked up situation for all parties involved, to be fair — Serena had tricked Dan into thinking his relationship with Blair was over, deliberately gotten him drunk and even secretly filmed the sordid affair, but then it turned out that Serena was right, as Blair had proceeded to chase Chuck halfway across the Atlantic, and didn’t even bother to extend the common courtesy of breaking up with Dan in person).
With everything that had transpired between them, he still remembered Blair’s words like it was yesterday, cutting into him like a knife. “I’d rather be with no one than with you,” she said coldly, her eyes filled with hurt and disappointment.
Right now, Dan supposed that Blair was simply too overwhelmed and exhausted to be picky, hence she had to begrudgingly trust him with her baby.
Dan settled himself down in the nursing chair, with little baby Henry still dozing peacefully in his arms. When his tiny fingers curled around Dan’s pinky finger, he inhaled sharply with the brief but painful reminder of Milo, the son he once had and lost.
“Humphrey?” came Blair’s sleepy voice from behind him.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“...Anytime, Waldorf.”
Blair Waldorf has not had a good night’s sleep in a long time. Of course, between Dorota, Eleanor and the nanny taking turns to help out (Chuck has changed a diaper or two, to his credit, but was too wary of handling a fragile newborn to be involved much yet), she has been quite pampered. But postpartum recovery had been a bitch, to say the least, and the nightly breastfeeding and pumping sessions were taking its toll on her.
So when Blair woke up feeling somewhat rejuvenated in the morning, it was an oddly foreign feeling. She stretched languidly, wondering if Henry had awoken yet. Wait a minute…Henry! She sat bolt upright, eyes searching the room.
A wave of relief washed over her as soon as she spotted Dan fast asleep against the wall, sitting cross-legged on the ground and still cradling Henry. He’d even carefully arranged a thick duvet on the ground — presumably, a precaution in case he accidentally dropped the infant.
Blair crept over to the sleeping pair to check on Henry. He looked perfectly content, fast asleep with both arms clinging to Dan’s rumpled shirt sleeves and his chubby cheeks squished against Dan’s chest. She shook her head with disbelief at the unlikely sight. How could her baby be sleeping like an angel in the arms of a man that he had never met until last night?
Blair then turned her attention to Dan. His curls were growing quite long, falling into his brow in a rather unruly fashion (she fought an urge not to tuck those errant curls back). Thankfully, he’d kept his hair neat and well-trimmed at the sides and back. Blair silently approved of this…significantly less Muppet-like look, but she’d take that secret to her grave.
She sat next to them on the ground — knees tucked beneath her — watching Dan’s chest rise and fall, observing the sweep of his lashes on his cheekbones, the light stubble dusting his jawline, his slightly parted pink lips. A sudden memory of his soft lips against hers comes unbidden, and Blair could feel the heat creeping up her cheeks and ears. Oh my god, what the hell was she thinking ?
Blair quickly banished those unsavory thoughts. It simply would not do to harbor any lingering notions of affection or worse, lust, towards Dan freaking Humphrey. She huffed and walked out of the room.
Dan Humphrey woke up with a crick in his neck and a….baby in his arms? He blinked rapidly — doing a double take — before he remembered why and how he ended up sleeping on the hardwood floor of Chuck and Blair’s bedroom.
Henry stirred and opened his eyes, cooing and gurgling and sticking his tiny hands into his mouth.
“And good morning to you too, buddy,” Dan chuckled. “Are you hungry, old sport? Let’s get you something to drink.”
As Dan warmed up a bottle for Henry, Blair waltzed in. She looked a lot more like her usual self today, dressed in an understated periwinkle blue shift dress and her hair pinned up in a sleek chignon.
“Humphrey,” she nods primly.
“Hey,” Dan nods back, “You’re up early. I thought you’d want to sleep in this morning.”
“I must confess, I haven’t slept in at all since this one was born,” Blair mused. “But I had a good sleep last night so…thanks for putting your expert baby-minding skills to good use.” She patted his shoulder, the same way one would pat a Labrador for being a good boy.
“Considering what a dismal flop your latest novel was, perhaps it’s time for a career switch? Society is a lot more accepting of male nannies these days you know,” Blair smirked, raising her eyebrows. “They call them Mannies, I believe.”
“Very funny, Blair,” Dan rolled his eyes, wondering whether Blair had really read his latest novel, or whether she was just using the opportunity to take a potshot at him. Probably the latter, he thinks.
“You know, since Henry’s having trouble sleeping on his own, you should get one of those bassinets that you can attach to the side of your bed. Like a co-sleeper,” Dan pointed out. “They’re a much safer way to co-sleep with your baby, and it gives them a sense of security sleeping next to you.”
“Dan Humphrey, your bizarrely specific arsenal of knowledge about the most random subjects never ceases to amaze. Too bad it doesn’t seem to make you a better writer,” Blair tilts her head and gives Dan a look of mock-pity, a half smile dangling on her ruby red lips.
Dan chuckled at that, shaking his head. To be completely honest, he was feeling too happy to be on speaking terms with Blair again to be offended by her attempts to insult him. Blair seemed to notice Dan’s dopey grin, and instantly glared back in response.
“Don’t think this means that we’re friends again, Humphrey. Because we’re not.”
“Fine by me, Mrs Bass,” Dan drawled, smoothly handing Henry back to his mother.
An awkward silence fell between them as Blair gave Henry his bottle. One of them was contemplating why she had called the other in the middle of the night — why his was the first name that came to her mind, even though they hadn’t spoken in nearly two years. The other one was wondering why he had even answered.
Dan breaks the silence first, as he stood up to leave.
“Well, I guess my job here is done,” he clears his throat and then pauses for a beat, shifting from foot to foot. He seemed to be searching for the right words to say.
“For what it’s worth, Blair. Even though I realize it’s …two years too late. I’m sorry. I really am. For how things went down between us.”
Blair raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I mean. I’m sorry I lashed out when you went back to Chuck and went all crazy ex-boyfriend on you, and all of the Upper East Side,” Dan started, taking a deep breath. “And I’m sorry I slept with Serena before you had a chance to speak to me. You…you had the right to choose whoever you wanted to be with.”
“Well…I’m sorry I broke up with you over email,” Blair offered, tentatively. “Even you deserved better.”
“You have to admit things worked out in the end though, right? Me with Serena, and you with Chuck? We each found our way back to our one destined love, after a uh…somewhat misguided detour?”
Blair snorted. “Detour? You mean like a bona fide Humphrey road trip in your dad’s old rust bucket?”
Dan couldn’t help but to chuckle again, “Yeah, something like that.”
Blair’s eyes had already softened by then (perhaps motherhood was turning the former Queen B into sentimental mush). She considered it for a moment.
“I suppose I do accept your apology,” she begrudgingly allowed. She gestured towards the kitchen. “You can stay and have breakfast, on account of your help with Henry. Not because we’re friends or anything,” Blair reiterates, glaring at Dan over her shoulder.
“I can do breakfast,” Dan almost grins in response, but tries to play it cool. He pointedly ignores the fact that his heart had nearly skipped a beat.
They spend the morning having coffee and croissants. Dan googles pictures of cribs and bassinets on his phone, debating the pros and cons of each type. Blair rolls her eyes and scoffs at Dan’s pedestrian taste, then complains about his choice of baby shower gift (“Who in their right mind gives a newborn a Cabbage Patch kid, Humphrey?”).
All things considered, it was a very good morning indeed.