Disclaimer: I do not own "Gossip Girl."


He sees them before they see him.

He'd gotten the name of the hotel from Blair, but arrived considerably later than he'd told her to expect, despite her warning of, "we're moving around the city so don't delay or you'll miss us." Their location he'd gotten from the concierge, had been a bit surprised to be told they could be found at one of the hotel bars.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but Serena and Blair surrounded by fou—no, five guys and giggling exaggeratedly over pink martinis definitely wasn't it.

It takes him six minutes to figure out what they are doing; and he tilts his head back, smiles widely in understanding, when he finally does.

He moves away from the doorway, towards them, is two feet away and he can hear their truly horrendous southern accents and see the way Serena's twirling a strand of her bright blonde hair around one finger, the way Blair's batting those big brown eyes for all their worth. The guys they're with really can't be faulted for not noticing the details— like their familiarity with the staff and how they both keep ordering their drinks in perfectly accented French.

He's opening his mouth to say "hey" when Blair catches his eyes, in the middle of Serena's sentence, a blatant lie, "I don'na leave states often…" Blair shakes her head minutely, shoots him the tiniest, real smile and then returns her attention to the tall French guy leaning over her.

And he grins, can't not, and he keeps walking; walks right past them, all the way to the other side of the bar. There's a woman that smiles back and a barmaid that comes to take his order— and Serena's eyes that lock with his for a heartbeat— but she looks away fast, wrapped up in the game she and Blair are playing.

He watches them in amusement for the better part of half an hour; but it's not until they get up to move, two of the five guys getting up with them, that he laughs outright. They're going to leave.

Blair looks directly at him then and gives him a tiny smirk, before hooking her arm through Serena's and allowing the guys to lead them away.

He gets a text about ten minutes later: Daddy's, end of week. And he shakes his head, smiles ruefully and buys another drink for the smiling lady that's joined him.

He doesn't text back because what's he going to do? Not go?


He arrives at the villa early. Harold and Roman had been expecting him; per Blair's instructions. They'd given him breakfast and told him to pick any room he wanted and when he was all set, they'd directed him to an outdoor merchant's festival going on a few miles away where he could find the girls, had offered him a driver to take him or a bicycle to ride.

He'd picked the bicycle.

And it's kind of the most fun he's had all summer, riding along in the countryside, under the sun, with nothing to focus on but on-coming traffic and spotting a festival— he thinks that's probably not the best recommendation for Chuck's little black book and it makes him smile.

The girls are under a tent, only three guys this time— Nate's smile widens, they're slipping.

He's off the bike and walking towards them slowly, taking in their short dresses and high-heeled sandals, loose hair and relaxed smiles. They look happy and themselves, no games today, and he doesn't really think about anything, but how good it is to see them.

Blair spots him first and he laughs when she turns towards him mid-sentence, switching from French to English, and putting a hand on her hip, "Oh look who showed up as instructed to… learned our lesson, did we?"

And he leans down, pulls her in for a quick hug and gives her a kiss on the cheek, "Nice to see you too, Blair…"

She puts a hand to his arm, rolls her eyes, "Nice to know you can follow a schedule, Nate." And then she makes a face, lifts her hand and wipes it on the sleeve of his t-shirt, "You're sweaty…"

"I rode a bicycle!" He announces a little gleefully.

"You what?"

"Your Dad lent it to me."

"You rode a—? From the villa?" She blinks at him.

He nods.

"Why?"

He shrugs, "It was fun."

"You are ridiculous."

"You are so happy to see me," he concludes.

And she huffs, "I'm happy you can keep to a schedule."

"I was delayed in Paris," he argues, "You two left me." The words slip out with a grin, but they make obvious the one thing he's given the least amount of thought to— Serena's presence.

He looks up when he thinks her name; their gazes lock and abruptly, he doesn't know what to do. She's standing right there, alone, the guys having moved away, blonde hair spilling out from underneath a floppy straw hat and bottom lip caught between her teeth as she studies him seriously; eyes drifting from his sweat-matted hair to his t-shirt and shorts and sneakers, before lifting to his eyes again.

He returns the scrutiny; and thinks she looks like everything he loves about the summer: warm, bright, fun, beautiful… and that he's her ex-boyfriend now.

It's what holds him in place, keeps him silent; he's never been her ex… anything before. He has no idea what to do or how to do it and—

Blair clears her throat, waves between, "Serena, Nate, Nate, Serena," she says dryly, "You've met."

Serena's gaze flickers to Blair, "B," she says with a small frown.

The brunette shrugs, looks bored, "If you're going to stand there like strangers than I'm going to treat you as so."

"We're not strangers," Serena says unnecessarily, looks at Nate again; expression a bit hesitant.

There's a sliver of a question in her eyes and Nate still doesn't know what to do… it took him the better part of a year to figure out how to be Blair's ex-boyfriend… to get used to that. It's not been enough time with Serena, he doesn't know what's okay, what's not, where the lines are… and he shakes his head a little, ignores the part of him that says it might never be enough time, he might never figure it out.

He takes a step forward, "Yeah…" he murmurs, "No…" he swallows hard, can't find it, the how of how to be her ex, knows only how to be her… Nate. So that's what he does, he reaches out and tugs at a side of the floppy hat, "Nice hat."

And she brightens, instantaneously, smile stretching across her face and moving forward to give him a hug, arms around his neck as she gushes, "Thank you," her face against his shoulder for a beat, "I just bought it!" And then she pulls back, turns around and points, "That table…" she shifts, "Or that one…"

"That was the bracelets," Blair corrects and then holds her wrist out for Nate to see the ring of amethyst encircling it.

"We got matching ones," Serena informs him; she's at Blair's side then, hooking one arm through Blair's and extending the other so Nate can see the matching jewelry. They lean into each other, drift out of the tent and into the sun, it catches their hair, makes both shades, light and dark, glimmer and when Blair's voice floats over to him, "Are you coming?" He laughs and trails after them.

There's a strange familiarity to the rest of the morning, the afternoon; Blair and Serena moving from tent to tent, buying earrings and books and silk scarves, hats and anklets and porcelain figurines— handing him bags to hold and telling him to keep up with them. They don't really talk about anything; no mentions of the city or relationships or Dan or Chuck… just three them, wandering around in a simple, carefree way they haven't done in years. He likes watching them try on silly looking sunglasses and hold up earrings to one another's faces, likes the careless way they slip in and out of each other's arms and the laugh that never really fades between them— just sits on their mouths or shines in their eyes or sounds from their voices. The confident grins they give him when they deign to turn around and hand him another shopping bag to hold, the chatter they don't even bother including him in, the way they're so certain he's paying attention to their every move—and how he is.

It's only when they start holding up hats and earrings to his face that he's ready to call it quits. "I'm hungry," he announces; it's well after lunch.

"We're not finished," Blair states with finality.

Serena nods in agreement, "We've only seen half of it, Nate." She shakes her head, "We can't leave."

He holds up the bags he's been carrying for hours now, "You guys did great, I commend your ability to shop from tables, really. But I'm starving."

"Don't whine," Blair reprimands, keeps walking.

"If I leave, you'll have to carry your own bags."

The brunette scoffs at him, "Don't be absurd," she motions to the slowly moving crowd, people drifting all around them, "You're not the only boy here."

And Serena giggles, doesn't say anything. She hasn't said much directly to him, but they've smiled and shared jokes and he thinks they're okay, because she's not being his ex either— she's being Serena. "He wouldn't leave us," she whispers to Blair though, sends him a sly look.

Blair shakes her head, "Of course not."

"I'm hungry," he pouts, sighs dramatically.

"Daddy's sending a car at four, you can hold on for another twenty minutes." Blair tells him.

"I'm going to ride back."

"On the bicycle?" Blair queries skeptically.

And they slow their pace, both look at him inquiringly.

Nate nods, matches their pace, "I rode here."

Serena tilts her head to one side, "Where did you leave the bike?"

Nate stops, turns around, "Uh… back there…" He motions the way they came.

"Well, we're not going back…" Blair pronounces.

And Nate turns back around, meets her brown eyes, grins at her, "I'm going back."

She shrugs, "Fine, but don't expect us to—"

He lifts the bags he's holding up a little, takes a step back, "Taking these with me…"

And Serena laughs, tugs Blair to a complete stop, "He's trying to blackmail us, B." She says delightedly, likes it's the funniest thing she's heard.

Blair's eyes narrow on him, "He is entirely out of his league."

He shrugs at her, "And always have been… never stopped me before."

Blair rolls her eyes, "Fine, take the bags back to the house for us. Thank you."

"What if I…" he takes another step back, "… lose something."

Serena brings a hand to her mouth to stifle another giggle.

"You wouldn't dare," Blair says firmly.

"It'd be an accident." Nate says innocently.

"And I would accidentally impale your foot with my shoe."

Serena nudges Blair in the side, "B…" she says on a laugh.

Nate grins motions with his head for them to follow him as he takes big steps backwards; he bumps into a couple people, says, "désolé, désolé" with a grin and then calls out to the girls, "Come on…"

Blair shakes her head, but Serena takes a step towards him; tugs at Blair to follow her and he laughs, announces, "I'll give you a ride."

"A what?" Blair snaps, allows Serena to pull her a few step towards Nate.

Serena laughs, bright and unabashed suddenly, "Oh my god Nate, yes." She says excitedly, "You have to!"

He nods excitedly too and Blair looks between them with dawning horror on her face, "Are you insane?"

"It'll be so fun!" Serena squeals, "We haven't done that since…" she's pulling Blair quickly now and Nate's leading them back the way they came as Serena's voice fills his ears, "Oh it must have been middle school! When Nate used to put us on the handle-bars, remember!"

"I hated that," Blair reminds them. And she had.

"I'm better balanced now!" Nate calls behind his shoulder with a grin.

"It was so fun!"

"It was dangerous," Blair corrects tries to dig her feet in a little, "I don't want to, I hated that…" she repeats.

"But you're older and wiser now," Serena says cheerfully, using her longer arms and height advantage to pull Blair along anyhow.

"Exactly. I know how—"

"—how fun and awesome it is." Serena finishes for her.

Nate laughs; they're not really that far from where he'd first scene them, stopping at every table had somewhat diminished their speed- a lot.

"We have bags," Blair points out.

"I have better balance now too!" Serena exclaims.

Blair shakes her head, "It's too far."

Nate drops back beside her, shoots Serena a quick smile on Blair's other side, "We'll only go until we see the car your Dad sends… text him even, the driver, to be on the lookout."

"It's juvenile."

"It's summer," Serena corrects, gives Blair's arm a squeeze. "And anyway," she says more softly, mouth pressing near Blair's ear, "We wanted to rejuvenate this summer, this'll be fu—"

"There it is!" Nate exclaims.

Blair sighs, "I was hoping someone had stolen it."

Serena rolls her eyes nudges Blair's face with hers, "This will be so fun."

"I'm wearing a dress! So are you!"

Serena giggles, "We'll be scandalous!"

They're walking out of the general vicinity of the festival then, the crowd thinning out and the road opening up again.

Nate's already at the bike, straightening it and tying packages to it when the girls near him. Serena is grinning, hat tipped back away from her face, cheeks flushed and eyes bright; Blair is eyeing him and the bike warily, mouth puckered and brows furrowed.

"He'll kills us," she decides then, "This is a road and he'll kil—"

"I will not!" Nate laughs, "There's barely any cars on this road anyway and—"

"He's right," Serena nods, "It'll be fi—"

"Just because you broke up with him doesn't mean you have to let him kill us as some sort of consolation prize, Serena!" Blair exclaims, "Look at that thing!"

"I'm not going to kill you!" Nate defends.

"B," Serena hisses, pulls away and frowns at the other girl, "Don't."

"Oh," Blair huffs, "Can we not to talk about that?"

"Can we talk about you and Chuck?"

"This is not abo—"

"What we can talk about," Nate cuts in firmly, holds the bike next to himself, "Is who's getting on first."

He smiles at them, both of them, wide and steady and dares them to keep arguing in the face of his enthusiasm— which he is not going to let slip.

"I'm not getti—"

"Blair," Serena says just as the brunette begins to argue.

Blair rolls her eyes, "Have I indicated in any way that I'm okay with this?"

Serena shrugs at her and the two stare at each other for a moment.

"It's a really great bike," Nate says into the silence.

They don't respond to him; are busy having their own non-verbal conversation and Nate takes the opportunity to think that he wants ice cream when they get back to the villa.

Serena's wrapping an arm around Blair's shoulders then, tugging her into a half hug, saying softly, "This will be okay… and it will be fun."

And despite the supremely skeptical look Blair gives her, she doesn't argue; which is a good thing, because Serena is right.

Nate straddles the bike, agrees Blair should get on first— the handlebars. He hooks his hands under her arms and lifts her up onto them with a lot more ease than he'd expected to.

He laughs when she wobbles, steadies her carefully, his hands at her waist as he says, "Just hold on right here," and guides her hands to where they have to be. She demands, "Do not let me fall!" in a slightly panicked voice and he laughs, soothes, "I've got you."

Serena stands back and watches them; expression strangely somber for a moment. Their gazes hold for a beat, silently, and then he smiles at her, "Okay, now you," and the moment passes. She nods eagerly and he tells her, "Sit on the seat, legs out, I'll stand and pedal."

She laughs and does what he says and Blair squeaks, "Let me off, let me off!"

But he doesn't. He pushes off with his feet, runs them all for a beat, Serena's hands on his shoulders and Blair's hair in his face, and then he starts to pedal. They wobble precariously and Blair's knuckles turn white on the handlebars and her voice goes up high "stop, stop, stop!" and Serena laughs in his ear, "go, go, go!" and he knows right then, this is how summer should always be.

They get the hang of it and Blair stops screeching and starts laughing and it isn't until a car whirls by, shifting their momentum that he thinks maybe Blair's right and he's going to kill them all— but she's having fun by then, changed her mind, thinks they're doing fine; tells him to keep pedaling or get off and let her do it.

The idea of Blair in a dress riding a bike makes him laugh so hard he has to stop and Serena insists if anyone is going to pedal next it's her. They stagger to a stop and he dismounts, breathless and sweaty and completely unable to stop laughing.

He can't tell how, but somehow, possibly just by being Blair, Blair wins and gets to pedal next. And Serena turns to him with a pout, blue eyes bright, "She's going to leave us."

Blair calls out they'll have to run to catch her and Serena wiggles her high-heeled foot at him, arcs a golden eyebrow. He tilts his head back and laughs, but turns around—let's her hop onto his back.

He doesn't know if this is something ex's do; piggy-back rides home, but it's something Nate and Serena do.

Blair pedals slowly, inhibited by her own heels, and he has no trouble jogging alongside her, Serena attached to him—at least for a little while.

When he gets tired he reaches over and grabs the handlebars, turns the whole bike in a wide circle. "Nate!" She shouts, slides off the seat.

Serena laughs, hops off his back, and grabs Blair's hands—twirls them around. "My turn!"

When the car sent for them finally appears they're trying all three on the bike again; Serena up front this time, Blair on the seat.

They disband the attempt even before the car is stopped; they're hot and tired and weak from laughter and they collapse into the air condition vehicle en masse. Nate stretches out on the floor of the limo, exhausted laughter still spilling out of him, an arm slung over his face as the girls stretch out together, tired and sticky and happy their giggles and breathy laughs filling the silence of the car.


Nate is actually starving by the time they reach the villa; he's not even kidding. Serena laughs, agrees, Blair rolls her eyes at them and informs them she's off to shower.

They're walking into the cool house, content and so easy with each other; and Nate exchanges a look with Serena, both of them mischievous and delighted and completely in sync and a beat later he swoops down and scoops Blair over his shoulder, Serena running ahead, a trail of golden hair behind her, the hat lost somewhere along the way.

"NATE." Blair smacks his back and shoulder and by the time he reaches the kitchen Serena's pulled out brownies and bottled water and apples and grapes and sliced mango; she's biting an apple and his mouth waters.

"Put me DOWN," Blair shouts, her nails digging into his shoulders.

He winces, laughs, and sets her down gently by the counter. She comes at him with flashing dark eyes, swats angrily at his shoulders and chest.

He lifts his arms to deflect the blows, squeaks, "Ow, ow, ow!" But he can't stop grinning, so he thinks it loses most of its meaning.

"What is wrong with you?" She demands, one last slap against his arm, "You can't just go arou—"

And Serena giggles, reaches over and pops a grape into Blair's open mouth. Blair gives the blonde an outraged look but she chews and Nate leans his elbows on the counter, reaches for a brownie and puts nearly half of it in his mouth; he's chewing as he reaches for a bottle of water, takes a long gulp of it and goes to take another bite when he dribbles some water onto his chin and Serena laughs, points at his face as she licks the juice of the apple from her lips, "Drop-cloth, much?"

He rolls his eyes, his smile quirking a little at the edges, and wipes at his chin, finishes stuffing the brownie into his mouth, watches her take one for herself and he knows Blair's backing away from them slowly, saying something about not being hungry, being too sticky, too hot, going to the bathroom, needing to shower, and he nods at her, but he's watching Serena take a bite of her brownie, reaching for an apple of his own. She giggles when gooey fudge smears across her mouth and he takes a bite of the apple, fresh and sweet and she laughs, murmurs, "S'good," as she swipes at her mouth. He nods and laughs too, eyes on a smudge of chocolate she didn't he motions towards, extends a hand, teases with, "Drop-cloth, much?"

He freezes with his fingertips a hairsbreadth of space from her lip— his smile and laughter and entire self going silent, still, and so does she; their eyes widening and meeting one another's in startled surprise.

He whips his hand back as if burned, straightens from the counter abruptly.

She does the same, eyes looking away from his face, "Nate..."

"No, yeah…" he says quickly, puts the apple down, "I know."

"We can't—" She sets the unfinished brownie on the countertop.

He swallows hard, "I didn't mean to do tha—"

"That can't hap—"

"Right," he nods, stares at the counter.

"Good." Her voice is quiet, small.

He nods, steps around the space, towards the doorway, "Yeah… it just… I—" I forgot.

She nods too, steps back, gives him wide berth, "We can't… we're here, at the same time, but we're—"

"I know…" he says, just as quietly, "We're not."

She looks at him, all the laughter and smiling wiped away; that smear of chocolate still at her lip, "Okay then…" She takes another step back, towards another doorway.

He looks at her across the room, "Yeah…"

She nods. And they stare at each other in silence for another beat, before simultaneously turning around leaving the kitchen in opposite directions.


.tbc.