AN: Done as an estatic NB shipper in the aftermath of 414. You've seen the ep, you know when this takes place. Feedback warms my heart.
The water droplets hit her skin at the exact instant she catches on. "You think you're funny, you are so dead!" She's already running as the words pour out of her mouth.
Nathan dodges her advances, stumbles on the slippery grass. The cool night air rushes around her face and she forgets, for a minute, the ups and the downs and the guilt and lies that have come to define her life and suddenly it's just her and Nathan, fucking around like they've done their whole lives. She makes a move to push him into one of the sprinklers, and suddenly his hands have a grip on her waist and she's over his shoulder, being twirled into the arcs of water cascading around him. They dance and tumble and sprint, and Brooke remembers all the games of touch football they used to play, tackling the crap out of each other and throwing Tim into a big pile of leaves. She attempts to throw herself on him and knock him to the ground, but he simply absorbs her momentum as if she weighs ounces instead of pounds. He half slips and she thinks she's got him, but he recovers surprisingly quickly and swings her around so she's directly over the sprinkler. She kicks her legs and half giggles, half shrieks – he doesn't relent, though, not until she manages to splash some of the water onto his face. Spluttering, he half shoves her away, and she's smiling so hard she thinks her face might just freeze that way.
They don't stop until the water does, and by then, they're both drenched. She's on her back, laughing so hard her ribs hurt, and he's attempting to pull her up by one leg while simultaneously tickling her side. She finally yanks him down to the ground, grinning as he lays down in defeat. Water is streaming down her face like tears and she feels like she might just be able to do anything.
"Jackass."
"Bitch."
She gives him a hard jab to the shoulder. "You started it."
"You got me all wet!"
"And you're going to give me hypothermia! I'm freezing now."
He rotates his head on the grass and glances towards her, takes in her arms wrapped tightly around her torso, and her only slightly exaggerated teeth chattering. He rolls his eyes.
"C'mere." Swinging an arm around her shoulders, he pulls her over so she's pressed tightly into his side. Rubbing his hand along the length of her arm, she knows he's smirking even if she can't see it.
"Warmer now, you big baby?"
She shoves him lightly, although it's about as successful as attempting to shove a brick wall. She feels the warmth of his body even through the damp clothing between them, and lets her eyes close, lets her breathing slow, lets the gentle heaviness of his arm release some of the tension in her neck.
"Life used to be simpler, huh." She doesn't mean to say it out loud, but somehow it escapes, and she feels him exhale a deep breath.
"It did." There's no remorse in his tone, no anger, just simple acknowledgement. She knows that they could both stare at the sky and be overwhelmed by memories, or they could stay where they are – cold and damp and complicated, but right at that moment, a little bit happy.
"Hey, guess what." Several minutes have passed, and he's turned to speak the words directly into her ear. His breath tickles down her neck and she briefly lets her eyes close before responding.
"What?"
"Sprinklers cycle every ten minutes."
He's already up, pulling her to her feet with one strong hand, and as the cold water hits again, they chase each other in circles, slipping and sliding over the already drenched grass.
The stars are reflecting our voices, she thinks, but only for a moment, and she's back to racing across the lawn, ready to run after him all the way 'til dawn.