Ned groaned softly as he rolled onto his side.
Nancy wasn't beside him.
He registered it slowly, at least a full minute later, and his eyes slowly opened. No note on her pillow. No sounds, suspicious or otherwise.
He ran his palm over her side of the bed. The warmth of her body had dissipated; the sheets were cool.
He found her in the kitchen, sitting at the table. The shadows of exhaustion were a soft purple under her eyes, and her hair was framed by loose tendrils that had escaped her hair elastic. She was swallowed by one of Ned's old hoodies, her hands covered up to the knuckles, and her left arm was wrapped around one plaid flannel-covered leg.
She glanced up when Ned came in. He saw the mug of tea beside her laptop and raised his eyebrows a little, opening the refrigerator.
Her lips curved up. "I did have a dream," she volunteered, her voice rough from sleep, a little husky. The sound of it traveled straight down his spine, through his hips.
"Do tell." He poured himself a glass of water. "It must not have been... that kind of dream."
"I know the rule."
"That you should always wake me." He tipped his head, still watching her. If it hadn't been a good dream...
She flashed a brief smile. "You and I were in the Oval Office."
He took a seat beside her and smirked, opening his mouth.
Nancy held up a hand. "Before you try to turn this into some 'Dear Penthouse Forum' scenario..."
"I would never."
She paused, then gave her head a little shake. "You... are just... ridiculously handsome. You know that?"
"I've been told."
She reached for her mug and took a long sip. "I'd just been elected president."
Ned's mouth formed a round o of surprise for an instant, before he took another sip of water. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that your aspirations are that high."
She smirked. "I'd never be able to go undercover again, that's for sure. Anyway. Since I was the first woman president, there was this old rule that I had to be a virgin to be president."
"Of course."
She chuckled. "So you and I had agreed that our marriage would be annulled—"
"Oh, so we were married."
"Yeah. And I was giving you a hug, and you said you'd see me later, because while we'd agreed that we wouldn't be 'married' anymore, we'd still be together. I told you that we couldn't tell my dad, and then... I woke up."
He raised his eyebrows again. "And that's it? That got you out of bed?"
She laughed. The sound was edged in gravel. "No. Then I glanced at my phone and saw an email about the case I'm working. That got me out of bed." She glanced back at her laptop screen, then tucked a handful of loose strands behind her ear. "But I think I've done as much as I can before offices open tomorrow, so. Let's go back to bed."
They shuffled around the kitchen together, and he watched her movements slow, become more clumsy, as she closed her laptop and cleared up after them. He rinsed out her mug and followed her to their room, and she stripped down before diving back under the sheets.
Ned pulled her against him, and she moaned softly in contentment as she nestled her head against his shoulder.
"So what were you wearing in this dream?"
She chuckled quietly. "I can make something up, if you want."
"Mmm." He shifted slightly, nestling against her too. "Nah, it's fine. Just glad it was a relatively good one."
He felt her cheek move against his chest slightly as she smiled, the tension of her muscles, the relaxing. "Me too," she murmured. "Let me get back to it, so I can find out if you deserve the title of First Gentleman."
Ned laughed quietly. "Always, babe."