Disclaimer: I do not own "Gossip Girl."

Author's Note: Kind of random NS drabble-y(ish) thing, pure happy-fluff. ;) Set during the summer of their 'fake' relationship. I'm taking liberties with Nate's family home in the Hampton's; mainly that they have a private beach. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

***

Serena starts when one of her earphones is yanked out of her ear; looks up from the computer.

Nate's standing over her, grinning. "Hey."

And she pulls the other earphone out, grins back, "Hey yourself."

She's lying on her stomach, leaning on her elbows as she watches a rerun of Project Runway on her laptop.

"Come with me…" he says, straightening and holding a hand out to her.

She shuts the computer, but doesn't move; kicks her legs up in the air and props her chin in her hand as she gives him a curious look, "Hmm-huh, where?"

"It's the fourth of July."

"It's raining," she corrects; but there's a fluttery excitement in her stomach at the sight of the smile on his face.

"Look out your window van der Woodsen, not a raindrop in sight."

She rolls her eyes, laughs a little, "A ten minute break between thunderstorms isn't exactly—"

"We're down to eight minutes already," he wiggles the fingers of his hand.

And she takes it with a giggle, lets him tug her up from the bed.

"You have a plan, Archibald?"

"Do I need one?"

She slips her feet into her white flip-flops, still holding his hand, "Nope."

He laughs, pulls her out of her room and they run down the steps. She's mismatched, wearing pink shorts and a faded mint green t-shirt that she sort of outgrew two years ago— the sleeves too short, the hem riding up a little too high, and the top stretching tight over her chest. Her hair's loose and she doesn't think she combed it this morning because there's been nothing but thunder storm after thunder storm rolling in over the beach since 4 AM and she had no plans to leave her room.

They don't stop running when they reach the foyer or when he pushes the front door open and they spill outside, down the steps, onto the sidewalk...

He keeps the light jog up, smiles over at her, and she squeezes his hand.

He's wearing tan shorts and a simple white t-shirt, hair a mess on his head and sneakers untied— he looks like he just ran out of his room without prepping too; and she loves that...

He leads her around to the beach and they run down onto it. She kicks off her sandals as soon as they reach it, digs her toes into the wet sand and pulls him to a stop; he falls back a little, puts his other hand on her forearm and grins, says cheekily, "Yes…?"

She kicks sand at his legs, "You have to warn me if we're going to run into the ocean," she tells him, laughing as the wind whips around them, blowing her hair into her face and his, "It's probably cold today and I need to brace myself…!"

"We could run along the water," he answers as if that was what she'd suggested and not the opposite; and he then motions towards her discarded flip-flops, "You could put those back on."

She rolls her eyes and skips past him, pulling him and turning him around in one smooth motion, calls out, "Or you could carry mewhen my feet get cold."

He laughs, follows her lead, "Or I could do that," he agrees. And they run again—towards the shoreline.

She squeaks when the water touches her bare-feet and he rolls his eyes at her, mutters teasingly, baby.

Serena gasps and then moves backwards into the water, yanks him into her as the tide rolls in and over her ankles— and over his sneakers.

Water fills the inside, pooling around his feet and soaking his socks, "Serena!" He shouts stopping and bouncing around a little, "My snea— s'cold! And squishy!" He laughs, "I gotta take these off now… feels gross! And co—"

"Don't be a baby, Natie!" She cries and pulls her hand free, runs off ahead of him.

The ocean is as gray as the dark clouds above them, looks angry and frigid; the wind sharp and unfriendly. It stings her eyes and prickles goosebumps along her arms and legs and she has no idea why she's out here. She laughs, looks behind her to see if he's catching up—

And she's in the air and flipped over then, his arms around her waist and she's slung over his shoulder suddenly, feet in the air and shrieking because, "NO!! Don't!!" She shouts and even the real panic that flares up inside her doesn't drive the laughter out of her voice, "It's cold and I—"

He's spinning around then, an arm coming around to grab onto her wrist as he twirls them both; and she chokes the words back on laugh— forgets everything but laughter and as they whirl around, the empty beach and gray skies a blur behind the veil of her spinning hair.

"I wouldn't." He assures emphatically as they turn.

And she slaps her free hand over his butt— hard. "You would!" She counters loudly, between breaths of her laughter, "You have!"

And he's putting her down then, gently, a hand at her waist and the one at her wrist sliding up to her elbow; sets her down her on the wet sand, not the cold water and stares at her with that dizzying smile he has— the one that spins her head even when she hasn't just been spun around.

"Not today," he promises, panting a little, and then he announces, "We're here."

She's got both hands on his chest, head still spinning as she stares into his navy blue eyes, "M'dizzy," she points out breathlessly, pouting her lips, "Someone spun me around upside down."

"A really fun and awesome someone, right?" He jokes and guides her around slowly, keeps his hands where they are.

She leans back against his chest and look up at the street, "We couldn't just run on the sidewalk to your house…?" She wonders with a smile in her voice as she stares up at the van der Bilt manor.

He chuckles behind her and she can feel the rumble of it in his chest; relaxes back into him even more.

His hand comes around, fingertips on her chin as he tilts her face downwards until her vision is directed to the beach in front of her, to the neatly stacked bundles sitting on the sand.

She stares at them blankly for a moment and then she sees them; whirls around in Nate's hold. "Nate!" She screams in his face, eyes wide and a grin spreading so wide it almost hurts.

"It's the fourth of July!" he says again.

And she flings her arms around his neck in a quick and fierce hug. He laughs, but before he can hug her back she's already out of his hold.

She drops down onto the sand, looks up at him, "I love fireworks…"

He nods, laughing, "Yes I know," he says and his tone reminds her she'd talked about fireworks every two hours for the last week and a half. He drops down beside and bats at her hands, says, "Let me," and shoots her a delighted grin, "I have a plan."

She leans back, sitting on her knees, the palms of her hands flat against the sand, "You do!?" She wonders and knows she sounds as delighted as he looks. She tilts her back and stares up into the clouds— dark and rolling around almost ominously and she laughs. "Since when?"

"Last week," he answers and he's standing then, has stacks in his arms.

"I want a sparkler," she tells him, presses her lips together.

He's setting up around her, sticking fountains and pinwheels and even roman candles into a patterned circle all around. "What makes you think I have sparklers?"

She brings fingers to her chin in mock-thought, "My faith in your planning abilities," she concludes.

And he laughs. "I didn't plan for the rain," he confesses, "Been waiting for a break all day."

She giggles and waits for his back to be turned before pawing through the stash and digging out the sparklers. "Did you plan for how illegal this is?" She giggles and picks up the lighter she finds.

He nods, turning around, "Shouldn't get caught, it's a private bea— hey!"

Serena jumps to her feet with a lit sparkler in each hand. She gives him a triumphant look and then spins around, lifting and swirling the sparklers above her head.

He points at her, the glower he's attempting failing miserably, "S'why I toss you into oceans sometimes!"

And she stops, sticks her tongue out at him, "S'why you love me!" She counters and then waves the sparklers around at him.

He grins and shakes his head at her, doesn't argue.

The sparklers die out and she puts them down on the sand, pushes hair out of her face as she sits and watches Nate contentedly. She leans back on her elbows, stretches her legs out and sighs; lets the sound of the ocean hum in her ears and sight of his movement fill up her vision. He's back to setting up pinwheels and she spots the odd repeater in the mix when she feels it… a raindrop.

"Uh-oh," she mutters, looks up at the sky again— resentfully this time.

Nate pauses, looks over at her, "What?"

She sits up, waves a hand in the air, "Raindrop."

He stops, straightens, says, "Okay," simply and then walks over to her, the center of this circle he's set up.

He drops the unused fireworks back into the pile and a few raindrops fall onto his t-shirt; she feels more fall in her hair.

"Just know," he adds wryly, "That this was going to be awesome," he says with a shrug as he kneels down beside her, starts looking for the lighter.

She smiles at his profile, feels the excited fluttery feeling blend with something warmer and happy inside her; she nudges his shoulder with a closed fist.

He looks over at her, raindrops are still pattering over them.

She opens her hand, lifts the lighter to him; says quietly, "It's already awesome."

His smile is a touch bashful at the edges as he takes the lighter from her palm; and then he gets up and runs over to the circle.

She watches him light a couple fuses. "Hey!" She calls, standing and turning towards him, "You do know what you're doing right?!"

He looks over his shoulder, there's a rumble of thunder in the distance, "How hard can it be…?"

She drops her mouth open, "Nate!"

He laughs, keeps running around lighting fuses.

"Nate!" She shouts again and maybe there's a thread of alarm in her voice, "Be careful! You can't just light whatev—"

And the first one goes off then, a roman candle that shoots straight up into the air.

She jumps, squeaks, oh, in surprise and then the fountains go off, bursts of sparkling lights all around them, and her surprise, the alarm, it all melts away into delighted laughter.

The rain is coming down a little harder, not a downpour yet though, and the fireworks go off in a brilliant display of blue and white and red. She turns as each one goes off, a hand clasped over her mouth, eyes glimmering with laughter—the gray of the day lit up suddenly.

And Nate's there with her then, rocking back on his heels a little smugly; he leans in close, whispers in her ear, "I know what I'm doing," just as a series of pinwheels go off, spraying a million sparks of light in every direction.

She drops the hand from her mouth and turns to him, flings her arms around his neck again and hangs on tight, kicks her feet up in the air behind her; he laughs, wraps his arms tight around her waist.

And then the repeaters go off, launching dozens of beams and bursts of lights high into the air, all around them.

Serena tilts her head back stares up into the sky, watches it flash with blue fire and luminous white and vibrant red— feels the raindrops on her face, soak her clothes and hair, and gasps as lightening splices into the sky dramatically.

"We should go!" Nate shouts as a roar of thunder echoes around them.

And she laughs, "Wait!"

There's still lights spilling from the fountains, from the pinwheels; still roman candles shooting up high and showering them with dazzling sparks— gleaming against the darkly menacing clouds, battling through the heavy raindrops.

Nate moves away then; leaves her without him in at the center of this circle and she doesn't look to see where he's gone. She keeps her head tilted back, eyes on the sky, ears filled with the sound of thunder and ocean and fireworks; she closes her eyes and loses herself to it, the power of the thunder and the echo of waves and the boom of fireworks, the feel of the wet sand under feet and the rain dripping all over her and Nate's hand cupping her face—

There's a radiant light behind her closed eyelids suddenly and she opens her eyes; he's holding two sparklers in one hand out away from them, his other hand smoothing her face.

And she laughs, turns into his touch for a breath in time and then reaches for a sparkler.

He bounces back away from her, hair plastered against his head and t-shirt sticking to him like a second skin, "Let's go!"

She drops her mouth open in mock-outrage, cries "Cheater!" And then lunges for his hand. He waves the sparklers up high; the sparks dying out already under the onslaught of rain.

He hops back farther away and she leaps after him; he turns and runs— right out of the circle. "Don't think I won't catch you!" She shouts with a smile.

Serena gives chase, knows they're headed for the steps that'll take them up to the van der Bilt house, focuses on grabbing a handful of his t-shirt at least— and is completely unprepared for him to drop the sparklers and turn on her.

She doesn't have the breath to even scream or laugh as he grabs her around the waist and gives her one quick, fast spin before setting her down and peering into her face with a gleeful grin, "Caught you."

And she kisses him before she even thinks about it; her mouth covering his in a smooth motion she couldn't have stopped anymore than breathing. She pulls back quickly, is already breathless, "Yeah, you did," she agrees.

He blinks at her, wet lashes clumped together over those beautiful eyes and a slow spreading smile she never gets tired of seeing.

She grabs his hand and they run again. It's a downpour now, lightening illuminating the sky more elaborately than any firework show and thunder resounding every few minutes; they're shivering a little in their clothes and when they reach the steps, Serena stops. She shoots Nate a quick grin and then turns around, latches her arms around Nate's neck from behind.

He laughs, complains, "I don't have shoes on either!" Even as he bends a little so she can hop onto his back.

"I kissed you!" She shouts above a bout of thunder.

He hooks his hands under her knees, says laughingly, "Cheater…"

Serena smiles, buries her face in the side of his neck as he carries her up the steps. She lifts her head when they reach the yard, shifts her legs a little, but he bounces her a little, doesn't put her down; gives her a ride all the way to the deck.

She hops down when they reach it; finally safe from the rain.

"My feet are muddy," he complains to her and she looks down, he wiggles his toes for her.

She can't stop smiling, thinks she might smile for the rest of July; and she reaches up then, swipes away at the hair on his forehead, slides her fingers down his face, lets them rest against his cheek, and then leans towards him, presses her lips to his softly, sweetly.

"That was more than awesome, Nate," she tells him.

He smiles, that touch of hesitancy at the edges, "Yeah…?"

She nods, confirms, "Yeah."

He nods back, "Good. Happy fourth of July."

She giggles, drops her arm to his side and turns to the door, "Happy 4th! We need to get dry and—"

She squeaks as he sweeps her off her feet, a hand under her knees and another at back.

"Nate!" She cries laughingly as she puts her hands against his chest, "Okay, enough with the picki—"

He grins wide at her as he carries her through the doorway, wonders, "Do I get a kiss every time I carry you somewhere…?"

And she laughs as they track water and mud through the house all the way to his room.

***

Author Note #2: LOL, please use fireworks responsibly. ;P Thanks again for reading! ;)