Serena surprises B, who's writing on her bed and does not wish to be disturbed. "Can we talk later? Despite your best efforts to ruin it, I'm actually having a good day, and I don't want anything to spoil it." She tells Serena about the rehab visit as though it's going to be enjoyable or whatever, and starts to lecture Serena on how this finally means that their relationship is real. Serena tries to empathize about how B doesn't want to burst the happy bubble, but S is like the one person on earth who can actually get through to her at any time, so she has a duty to burst this bubble. "Well, I'm sorry if, unlike some people, I haven't been on the pill since I was fifteen." We've talked before about the times that Blair does this, just strikes out with whatever nasty shit she can come up with, and it's always when she's feeling trapped and Serena's on her case about it. Serena knows about free-fall, she knows how good it can feel to stop holding up that wall between the ugly reality and the pretty lie, but whenever they talk about it, they're talking across a gulf so wide that Blair can't do anything but shoot back with everything she's got.
Some people say that all the cultural echoes and the stories of Eden and the Fall, that removal of God's love, come from the first moment in every single person's life when they call for their mommy, and she doesn't answer. If it takes ten seconds or ten minutes for her to come and put the world back together, you spend that time screaming, and you never recover. Not completely. So the reason Blair gets so gross at these times is that her world is composed entirely of appearances, what she wants to portray, the woman she desperately wants to be -- and Serena, whom she knows to trust implicitly. And if Serena's the one destroying the world, asking these questions, knowing that she's going to catch hell for it, then on some level Blair knows that it's serious, and it's true. And in the long term, she knows, Serena will be proven right. But that doesn't mean the walls aren't falling down right now.
Dan has prepared romantic spaghetti and there's zany Italian music playing, like in Lady And The Tramp. Which is hilarious, because my grandmother hated that movie, and wouldn't let me watch it, because she couldn't abide a well-bred lady like that marrying some tramp and ruining her family. She was totally offended by that, and you know what, my grandmother would hate Dan so much! That's hilarious. So they eat his dumb spaghetti and Dan kisses her, and Jenny comes out of her bedroom to "get some juice," adorably, and Dan enforces her removal from the situation and goes back to the mood lighting and sad romantic teenage spaghetti. Serena can feel him getting revved up and weird for take two, and it bums her out, so he stutters and changes course. "Let's try this. Why don't you tell me what's on your mind? Then it can be on our minds, and our minds can worry about what's on your mind together." Which is pretty much exactly like saying, "I love you," but Dan's a literal-minded fellow. He's performing love, the actuality of it, but he still needs the actual words and the drama moment of it, when all they've ever done is be really good at loving each other. "I don't know what I said either but, um, what I'm saying now is talk to me." She explains about how the test was actually for Blair, and Jenny listens at the door just like Vanessa would want her to.
Dan's confused: how can B suddenly be pregnant if she just recently got back with Nate? His face falls, in sympathy: "...Oh. Then who?" And kids, nobody in that room is prepared for the answer, which is Chuck. Jenny just about falls over sideways, and Dan's spaghetti repeats on him a little bit. "Chuck? And Blair? Blair and Chuck? Then why isn't he the one buying the test?" Dan assumes that it's because Chuck is disgusting, and Serena doesn't disagree exactly, but assures him Chuck has no idea about any of this. Dan points out that, although he does hate Chuck, Chuck deserves to know what's going on. "He does have this weird influence over her," Serena nods, and wonders if Chuck can talk her into taking this seriously. Their relationship has always been like a mysterious black box or grotesque carnival, for Serena, and she doesn't know too much about how it works, but she does know the balloon-popping routine she usually tries with Blair isn't working this time: she's dug too far in. "I just...I'm so worried about her." Dan embraces Serena and their minds worry together, and Jenny slumps away.