Work Text:
She hates the way it happens (later, she’ll love it).
“Humphrey, will you please remind me why we’re here?” she asks, inching away from a very questionable rack of clothes.
“I need furniture, Blair, and unlike you, some of us have to discount shop,” he replies, inspecting a wooden armoir.
“You can discount shop outside of Williamsburg in a dirty flea market that smells vaguely of meat,” she says, sniffing the air and looking around. “Scratch that, definitely smells of meat.”
Dan fixes her with a look and she sighs, knowing that complaining won’t do anything for the fact that they’re not leaving any time soon. Or that she’ll be having any sort of a sex life in the next week.
Dan moves onto the next stand and Blair follows him, her heels clacking on the pavement and trying not to touch anything for fear of catching Tetanus.
“You’re not going to catch Tetanus when you touch something,” Dan says, reading her mind in the way only he can do without even looking up from the desk he was looking over.
“I know,” Blair mutters, but she still won’t go near anything.
“Look, if you’re going to be like this, just go look at that jewelry stand, okay?” Dan suggests and Blair shrugs. If her boyfriend of two years is going to be as stubborn her, she might as well try and squeeze a ring out of it. She leaves Dan talking to the stand owner for the tray of jewelry across the street. Everything is hopelessly vintage and gaudy but Blair pretends to be interested for Dan’s sake. Honestly, the things she does for this boy.
“Can I help you with anything?” the woman manning the stand asks Blair as she walks up to her. She’s wearing a long flower maxi skirt that’s straight out of the ‘70s and not in a good way.
“No, I’m just browsing. Trying to appease my boyfriend,” Blair answers, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.
“Well if you need anything, but ask,” she says in a sweet voice. Blair smiles at her in what she hopes isn’t too fake.
She spends the next ten minutes sneaking looks at her phone and texting her assistant rather than pretending to like the absolutely hideous jewelry in front of her.
“See anything you like?” Dan’s voice says softly in her ear, his hand resting on her back.
“Just one thing,” she says with a smirk, not without meeting his eyes.
“Oh yeah?” he replies, his voice low.
“But I’m pretty sure I can get it for free,” she says, her voice heavy with innuendo.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“Oh?” She twists around to face him, her hand on his chest and looking up at him through lidded eyes. Dan opens his mouth to respond but seems to think better of it, looking around and stepping away. He takes a deep breath and licks his lips as Blair simply smirks. “You couldn’t handle it.”
“’Course I could,” he scoffs. “I have been for the past two years.”
“That’s what you think,” she says, walking away and knocking his hip with hers on her way. She hears Dan’s laugh and can’t seem to hold back the smile that plays at her lips. “So what are the odds that I find something I like here? Actually, don't answer that because you'll just go on a rant about--”
“Marry me."
All the breath seems to empty out of her lungs as she turns slowly. He’s holding some horrid vintage ring with a gaudy blue stone on it the size of her eye. She watches as he sinks to his knee and bites his lip, looking up at her expectantly.
“Marry me,” he says again.
“Did you even plan this?” she asks, her voice shaky.
“No. But I didn’t need to,” he replies. “I love you, Blair, and I can’t imagine a Friday night without a movie on the couch with you, or Sunday mornings in bed and I don’t have some stupid speech ready about the first time we met, or the moment I fell in love with you because the first time we met, I wasn’t a person I liked. I don’t know the moment I fell in love you. Because I fell in love with you in a series of moments. It wasn’t at the Film Forum, or at the Met, or at the W, or any of those moments and places. It’s everything, Blair. You’re everything.”
“Liar,” she says, rolling her eyes through her tears.
“I—what?”
“You said you didn’t plan a speech. That was a speech,” she says because she doesn’t know what else to say.
“So what’ll it be?”
“I’m surprised you had to even ask,” she says, wiping the tears from her eyes and smiling widely as he stands up and puts the God-awful ring on her finger. She wrings her hands and breathes in deeply. He returns her wide smile and pulls her to him, pressing his lips to hers.
“But Brooklyn?” she says when they pull apart. “You had to do it in Brooklyn?”
“Only Blair Waldorf would complain about where I proposed to her,” he says, shaking his head and running his hand through his hair. “What have I gotten myself into?”
“Nothing you can’t handle,” she says.
“So, Blair Humphrey,” he says, smirking.
“Stop,” she laughs.
“Do you want to live in Brooklyn or Manhattan, Mrs. Humphrey?”
“Shut up!”
“I like Brooklyn personally, but I’ll have to ask my wife, Mrs. Humphrey.”
“Oh really, Dan Waldorf?”
“You did not just go there!”
“I think I did, Mr. Waldorf.”
“So Mrs. Humphrey, could you get used to that?”
“I guess, Mr. Waldorf,” she says, grabbing his collar and pulling him to her.
“Well, I’m glad, Mrs. Humphrey,” he says, closing the space between them.
“Me too, Mr. Waldorf,” she says in between kisses.
“How ‘bout we go back to my place, Mrs. Humphrey?”
“Sounds good, Mr. Waldorf.”
(And later, she’ll tease him for getting the fake sapphire, and he’ll tease her for wanting to sanitize it and he’ll kiss the laugh off her lips and their matching rings will glint with the light from the TV)