Fandom: Gossip Girl, show-based
Story title: King of Wishful Thinking
Rating: PG
Warning(s): a little swearing, Chuck being... well, Chuck
Spoiler(s): very mild spoilers for the Nate/Serena story arc
Pairing(s): Nate/Serena, implied Chuck/Blair
Summary: Some people are just impossible to get over. Nate learns this during the New Year countdown in Times Square.
AN: Happy New Year! I finished this story approximately 41 minutes before January 1, 2008, in my corner of the world. It was inspired, quite obviously, by the song King of Wishful Thinking, which, as I understand, is originally by Go West. I've only heard New Found Glory's cover of it, though, and it is an amazing song and so very perfect for Nate and Serena. Constructive criticism is much appreciated.

King of Wishful Thinking
by Android Turtle

I'll get over you. I know I will. I'll pretend my ship's not sinking.
And I'll tell myself I'm over you, 'cause I'm the king of wishful thinking.
- Go West

Hey there, Upper East Siders. Gossip Girl here. It's a well-established fact that, in the scandalous world of Manhattan's elite, Christmas is a time for family, while New Year's Eve is a time for friends. And, as everybody who is anybody knows, there's only one place to be when the clock strikes twelve: Times Square, Manhattan.

That's right; every year, our best and most beautiful brave the massive crowds in order to witness the world-famous--- or should I sayinfamous?--- New Year's Eve ball drop and countdown. They say it's upholding tradition, but we all know it's just yet another excuse to run riot.

So what's going to happen in approximately three hours? There's no way of knowing, but since Serena van der Woodsen, Blair Waldorf, Nate Archibald and Chuck Bass were just seen strolling around Times Square, there's no doubt it's going to be interesting.

Signing off for now. See you in 2009.

Let the sparks fly.

"Oh, my God, balloons!" Serena squealed, clapping her hands together. "We need balloons! Those long ones that look like hotdogs---" She glanced around for the telltale red uniforms of those in charge of handing out "The Official Times Square Confetti Bag", turning on the sharp heels of her scrunchy black ankle boots. A group of middle-aged women brushed past, causing her to lose her balance and fall against Nate.

"Easy there," Nate said with a laugh, holding Serena by the shoulders to steady her. "I thought you gave up drinking to the point of inebriation."

"I'm not drunk!" she protested. "I'm just really, really excited. I love street parties!"

"That makes one of us," said Chuck dryly.

Blair rolled her eyes at him. "I see you're being your usual ebullient self. Keep it up; that's a great way to start the new year."

"Well, I'm sorry, B, but it's hard for me to act cheerful when there's a grave risk of catching some kind of disease from all these---" Chuck waved an elegantly vague hand to indicate the throng of people surrounding them--- "---commoners."

Serena giggled. "They aren't that bad, you know."

Chuck turned to her. "Speaking of commoners, where is your Mister Humphert and why are you not dragging him along?"

"It'sHumphrey," she corrected in a firm voice, but otherwise ignoring the jibe, "and he's meeting me here in a while. He's having dinner with his family."

"Wait," said Blair, "are you telling me you're dating a guy who doesn't observe the Christmas-is-for-family-and-New-Year's-Eve-is-for-friends rule?"

"Well, technically speaking, he does both."

Nate realized he was still holding on to Serena. Once he became aware of her proximity, it overwhelmed him. Her long hair spilled onto his arms in golden, lavender-scented waves; his hands gripped shoulders that felt impossibly fragile under cashmere sleeves; her thick, sooty lashes were dark against winter-pale cheeks. It was enough to make his head spin.

He let his hands drop to his sides and took a step back. What the hell happened, Archibald? he asked himself angrily. Serena was just a friend now. She shouldn't be able to affect him this way every time they touched. The guilt nagged at the back of his mind every time Blair looked at him with her soft, wide brown eyes.

Aforementioned just-a-friend's voice cut into Nate's brooding. "Seriously, you guys," Serena was telling them, "we need balloons. And those little noisemaker things. Come on, let's go all out!"

"Don't forget the alcohol," Chuck drawled. "If I'm being forced to mingle with the hoi polloi, I'm going to need several drinks before the night is over." Public drinking was illegal in New York City, but their group had long since found a way to circumvent that particular law.

"You complain about this every year, but you still keep coming with us," Blair pointed out. "Anyway, why don't Serena and I go look for the balloons and party favors, while you boys get the drinks? We can meet under the Coke sign in an hour."

Nate elbowed his way through the crowd, keeping his eyes peeled for the nearest restaurant, only half-listening to Chuck gripe.

"In the last thirty minutes, I have been stepped on, spilled on, elbowed in the ribs and cursed rather explicitly in German," Chuck was saying. "This could potentially be the worst New Year's Eve ever."

"You say that every year," said Nate. "Except for when we celebrated in Monaco. Should we put the drinks in bottles or cans this time?"

"Cans make such a mess," Chuck replied. "Better go with bottles and something clear, like vodka."

"How about Bacardi?"

"You are a man after my own heart, Nathaniel Archibald." Chuck slung an arm around Nate's shoulders. "So, tell me, what's the deal with you and Serena?"

"W---what?" Nate sputtered. "Me and S? What are you talking about?"

Chuck grinned. "No need to play coy. I saw what happened. You were all over her back there."

"I wasn't," Nate protested. "I love Blair, and Serena loves that Humphrey guy. The two of us are just friends."

"And you'd better keep it that way," said Chuck, still sounding lighthearted but suddenly looking a touch more serious. "I would hate to see B get hurt."

Nate raised an eyebrow. "Well, look who's a good friend all of a sudden."

Chuck colored. "What I mean is--- I'm the one she's going to come crying to if you break her heart again, and you know me, Nathaniel. I don't do drama. I can't handle it. I'm allergic to it."

"No need to worry, man," Nate assured him. "I'm completely over Serena." The conviction in his voice surprised and relieved him; if he could sound that sincere, then maybe he really was. His body just… reacted in strange ways to her presence, because, well, she was Serena van der Woodsen. She had that effect on every male she came across.

When Nate finally emerged from his muddle of confused thoughts, Chuck was nowhere to be seen.

Oh, shit. Nate dug out his cellphone, intent on calling Chuck, then gaped at the screen in disbelief. The battery had run out.

"Damn it," he muttered, craning his neck as his gaze swept the area. As the crowd was now so thick there didn't seem to be a single unoccupied space on the streets for miles, finding his companions by merely looking around proved to be impossible. He decided to retrace his steps, and promptly set off in the direction he'd been coming from. Once he found Chuck, they could quickly buy the drinks and then met the girls at the Coke sign.

He walked around for a good hour, bumped and shoved and stepped on, and doing some bumping, shoving and stepping on of his own. Loud chatter in several different languages washed over him, mingling with music being blasted from all sides, pulsing in time with the bright lights and the camera flashes and the neon advertisements. He couldn't exhale or turn around without coming into contact with another human body. It was pure dizzying, disorienting madness.

A flash of blonde hair and bright pink caught his attention. "Serena!"

She turned and immediately hurried over to him, fighting her way through the crowd, carrying two long pink balloons. "Nate!"

He was unreasonably glad to see her, and would have hugged her if she hadn't looked so panic-stricken.

"Nate, I lost my phone!" Serena wailed. "It must have slipped out of my pocket or something. And I can't find Blair!"

Nate grimaced. "Chuck and I got separated, too, and my phone's completely dead."

"This is crazy! We haveto find the others. I need to call Dan---"

He suddenly, inexplicably, really didn't want to hear her talk about Dan. Not now, not when his nerves were on edge and she was looking so adorably lost and confused, with her blonde hair in disarray as she stared at him with wide, helpless dark-blue eyes in a way that made him feel like a knight in shining armor instead of an equally lost and confused teenager.

"Let's go back to the Coke sign," he suggested. "We all agreed to meet there. Maybe Blair and Chuck are already waiting for us."

"I was on my way there, actually," Serena admitted, smiling a little. "Great minds think alike."

"Yes, because as the current situation we are in proves, we are absolute geniuses," Nate said, deadpan.

She laughed, then held out a hand. "Balloon?"

"Of course." He took it from her and they went off in the direction of the Coke sign.

They were almost separated by yet another large group of people passing through. Serena grimaced and grabbed his hand. He looked at her quizzically, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach that her touch had induced.

"I don't want to lose you again," she joked.

Nate's heart clenched at the unintentional poignancy of her words. He never should have let her go. He should have---

Whoa. Where did that come from? You're over her, remember? he scolded himself as he allowed Serena to lead him through the crowd.

After a while, they stopped short between 45th and 46th Streets. The Waterford crystal button had already signaled that it was 11:59 PM. People started cheering as the lighted Ball began to descend.

"Oh, no," groaned Serena. "We're never going to find Blair and Chuck in time."

She looked so distraught that Nate had to fight the urge to drape a comforting arm around her shoulders. The way his thoughts had been running tonight, he couldn't trust himself to touch her like that. He gently pulled his hand from her grasp, even though something inside him protested.

He cleared his throat. "So, S," he began conversationally, "how was your year?"

Serena tilted her head, biting on her lower lip as she considered his question. "It was actually pretty good. I'm glad all of us were able to be friends again after--- well, after everything." She blushed slightly and glanced at him before looking away.

He knew she was thinking about what had happened at the Sheppard wedding. Shehad to be. It had never really left his mind, after all. Nothing else had ever compared to it. Being around her lightened his spirits in a way no one else could.

"Anyway," Serena continued, "I'm glad things are back to normal. I have a lot to be thankful for this year."

"Ten!" chanted the crowd. "Nine! Eight! Seven!"

And that was when Nate knew. He wasn't over Serena van der Woodsen. At all. He'd been fooling himself for the better part of a year, not wanting to hurt anyone or make life more complicated than it already was. But he was tired. Of running, of hiding, of denying his feelings. It would always be her.

She was laughing and cheering with the rest, lit from within by the pure unadulterated joy of living that had always been a part of what made her so unlike any other girl. "This is terrible! Dan should be here. I want my New Year's kiss!" She grinned at Nate. "Not that you're bad company or anything."

"Six! Five! Four!"

Nate found his voice. "I'm not? That's good to know."

"It's just that you can't give me my kiss, after all---" she started to explain.

"Three! Two!"

"Yeah," Nate murmured. "I can't."

"ONE!"

The world exploded in blinding neon lights and bursts of glitter and colored smoke. Resounding screams and music filled the air, while overhead a dazzling fireworks display lit up the night sky as confetti rained down from the rooftops, creating a brilliant, unparalleled panorama of color.

Serena turned to Nate. She was beaming, ethereally beautiful. She had confetti in her hair.

"Nate, Happy New---"

He stepped closer. He dropped the balloon he was holding. He pressed his lips to hers.

Spotted: N and S, kissing in Times Square, his arms around her waist, her hands tangled in his hair, while all around them the fireworks display and the street party raged on.

This is going to be a great year.

You know you love me.

XOXO,

Gossip Girl