Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl.

Summary: He wonders when that innocent young girl was replaced with someone so jaded. NateJenny, oneshot

It's amazing what one can end up shipping. I never really thought I'd end up shipping these two, but apparently I do. So I thought I'd write a little piece for them, since I'm inspired and I haven't written for Gossip Girl in the longest time. This is very short, but I enjoyed writing it. I hope that y'all enjoy!


Isomer


Nate Archibald misses Jenny Humphrey.

It is a silly notion, missing someone that - in that very moment - you are staring at. She is so close to him that he could probably reach out and touch her, had he the gumption. Though, he finds that the closer he gets to her, the more he misses her. Which, really, makes no sense at all.

He supposes that is a testament to what the passing years can do.

Her hair hangs like long, yellow seaweed down her back, messy and unkempt and reeking of rock star gone bad. Or little girl lost. He can't make up his mind. Either way, it disturbs him in more ways than one. Her eyes are caked with that damned black makeup she has taken to. Just when he thought she was coming out of that phase, just when Dan had updated him that Hudson was doing wonders for his sister, this happens. He is confronted with her, and it stabs at him in a way he hasn't felt since Blair slept with Chuck that very first time.

Nate supposes he had expected to see a transformation. Expected to be presented with the fresh faced, brilliant fashion designer and not the warped version of that. Not the girl that gambled it all and lost in so many ways.

Her clothes are skimpy in a manner that suggests that she just doesn't care. Her makeup is heavy and hides that girlish cuteness he found so attractive so long ago. Her eyes are sharp, almost uncaring, in her face. No longer does he glance at them and see the optimistic, ambitious young girl that he could have fallen for in so many ways. He sees a potential ruler of the Upper East Side, sees a girl that has taken them all to their limit and back again with her surprising ruthlessness to get what she wants.

She's with Eric walking down the sidewalk. She's smiling, but the action looks forced. All of her actions do, lately, Nate finds. She's holding Eric's hand in a show of friendship as they go, which is as baffling as it is promising. It is truly remarkable, how much their friendship has gone through, and yet there they are strolling as if nothing has happened. As if she didn't dump yogurt on his head and as if she didn't play a part in a plot against his sister.

Forgiveness is a powerful thing, he supposes. Powerful, and too easily found in the UES.

A light, airy laugh bubbles from her chest - she really is looking far too thin these days - and she pats a hand on Eric's shoulder in a gesture that is almost shocking.

Nate sighs and pretends that he's not intrigued, though that was always something that he had much difficulty with.

"What are you staring at, Nate?" Serena asks from his side.

Oh.

Right.

He had almost forgotten her presence, which is something to be noted. Nate turns to her with a sheepish smile already plastered on his handsome face, his hand rubbing the back of his neck to exacerbate his condition.

"Sorry," he replies, "just got lost in thought."

Serena gives him a bright smile, one that comes easily to her. Always has, always will. He wonders when he stopped caring if he was the one who caused them, since they are so freely given they sometimes lose meaning.

She holds out her hand to him, a raspy laugh issuing from her. Nate can't help but compare it to the one he just heard from her stepsister. "C'mon. We'll be late meeting Chuck and Blair."

Nate nods, but there is hesitation before he takes her willowy fingers with his own.

He spares one last look at Jenny, far across the street and uncaring, unnoticing anything around him. For a moment, their eyes meet.

Nate turns from her quickly before linking his fingers with the ones presented to him, banishing the thought of another blonde from his thoughts.

That's how it's supposed to be, after all.


End.