Mick Devlin liked to fancy himself a... philanthropist. A phil-man-thropist, if you would, which he definitely would. He offered his services to men in need for little to nothing, maybe in exchange for a favor or a nice bottle of something dark that would burn on the way down, because he was doing the world a favor.
So he regarded the dark-haired man across the table from him through a pleasantly happy buzz, while keeping an eye on the rest of the room. Mick might have been an incredibly gifted ladies' man, but he was also a world-class detective to boot, and... something just wasn't quite adding up.
"You'll take the job?" The dark-haired man was nervous, casting his own gaze around the room in intervals. A faint air of desperation clung to him, something about his nearly-finished shaving job, the crooked neckline of his shirt. "I mean, if it'll help you make up your mind..."
Mick only just stopped himself from whistling as his potential client tapped his cell phone screen a few times, then showed Mick the image on it. An absolutely gorgeous girl, reddish-blonde hair, sunglasses on, grinning as she gazed up at the phone. She wore a blue-green bikini that showed off her tan and her miles of long, shapely leg.
"So this is the bird you think won't stay caught." Mick tried to make himself sit back, but leaned forward again, tapping the edge of the screen to bring it to full brightness again, his eye traveling over the image in a slow, loving caress.
Oh yes. He would take this one for free. Absolutely.
"I don't... I mean, I hope she doesn't fall for it. I just... have my doubts. And if something does happen, you'll get proof? Pictures? Just..."
Mick nodded without taking his gaze from the image. Of course. And he'd keep copies for himself, too. That was, if the girl didn't take one look at Mick and decide she was trading up.
Because she would definitely be a trade up for him. Living out of a suitcase for the past month had been a minor, temporary crimp in his style.
"Absolutely, mate. Absolutely."
--
His opportunity came three weeks later. Mick's target would be staying at a hotel in Mexico. His contact was there, ready to confront her if she did, in fact, fall for Mick's act; he'd told her he was running a day late, but she had already been en route. A more beautifully tailor-made scenario wasn't even possible. Mexico? Shit. Mick loved the place, always had.
He tapped the contact in his phone. Ned.
"Hello?"
"Just checkin' in, mate. All clear?"
"All clear," his client confirmed. "I'm beside the pool. If she blows you off, let me know, but if she—well, if there are photos, let me know."
"Accourse," Mick replied with a grin, then tried to sober slightly. This was an important thing for a man, finding out if his girl could be trusted to stay faithful. And this Ned, well, kind of struck Mick as a hothead. "An' y'know it's nothin' personal?"
Well, to Mick it was. He prided himself on his luck with the ladies. And due to the setup, his clients couldn't exactly get mad. He was doing exactly what he'd agreed to do, after all. Reassure them that their relationships were on bedrock ground, or allow them to find someone who would be true.
Or, at least, would be true until they ran into Mick again. On that, Mick made no guarantees.
"Nothing personal," his client agreed, but his tone was deep, dark, with an edge of threat in it.
"Good," Mick replied with a sunny, beaming smile. "See ya on the otha side, mate."
"Yes."
The hotel was ultra-modern, clean, all sleek lines and new carpet. An enormous tree decked out with gently pulsing white lights and red ornaments filled a corner of the lobby, the decor's only nod to the season. It was the perfect option for Americans and other international travelers who wanted something that felt like home, with all traces of the local culture ruthlessly scrubbed away.
As though the planets had perfectly aligned for their subterfuge, Mick found the gorgeous redhead in the hotel bar. She wasn't positioned as a woman declaring herself available; she was where she could keep her back against the wall and her gaze on anyone entering, while close to a potential exit herself. Mick gave a silent nod of approval to that. Smart girl.
It just remained to be seen, how smart she was when it came to him.
She wore a white sweaterdress, which had him smirkingly labeling her virginal for a moment, designed with a few stripes here and there, in strategic locations. They drew his eye just as they were intended, and Mick made his way easily to her, casually noticing and categorizing the other women in the room for future reference. Her phone was out on the bar beside her drink, which was tall and dark, carbonated. This would be easier if she were drinking, and he couldn't be sure she was.
Mick raised a hand, catching the bartender's attention before he set to work on the redhead. "Let's see, a Fostah fo' me, and... what's the lady drinkin'?"
"Diet Coke," the bartender returned dryly.
"Hmm." He considered. "Le's try a... Grey Goose mahtini."
The bartender rolled his eyes, but set to work. Mick took the beer and enjoyed a long pull before he looked over at the redhead.
The bartender timed it so he was delivering the martini as Mick sidled up to her. "With his compliments," the bartender said, with a little shrug.
The redhead, who his client had referred to as Nancy, gave Mick a thin-lipped smile. Not a great start. "You're welcome to it," she told him, then made a brisk shoo motion with her fingers.
Mick affected an air of wounded dignity, complete with a palm pressed to his (broad, muscular, toned) chest. "A beautiful girl sitting all alone on a gorgeous night like tonight." Mick modulated his accent, giving it an edge of sophistication he generally didn't bother affecting. Too late for him to choose a more impressive drink for himself, but he'd roll with it. "You looked lonely."
She gave him a dead stare for a few seconds, then rolled her eyes and reached for her glass, simultaneously pushing the martini glass toward Mick. "Good try."
"Then maybe I'm the one who's lonely. Just thought you were too."
She didn't even bother answering him that time, just took a long sip of her original drink.
"Look, why don't I... leave this with you. I'll just be over there. If you find you want to talk..."
She didn't even make eye contact with him, just picked up her phone. When he realized that she had taken a photo of him, he startled in surprise, then met her gaze. It was icy.
Well. Mick had never been afraid of a challenge.
--
Ned strode into the bar adjusting his cuffs, heart already beating hard in anticipation of seeing her. She had finished up her case a little early and invited him to join her, and he'd been so excited by the prospect of an early Christmas break, especially with her.
Her face lit up when she saw him, but—
Ned's step faltered slightly as he quickened his pace.
She seemed—more than drunk: recklessly inebriated. Her color was too high, her eyes glassy, and she was overly affectionate with Ned when she saw him, throwing her arms around him and nuzzling against him with a happy sigh. "You came," she said, then giggled.
"Nan," he murmured, rubbing his palm against her back. "Nan, baby, what happened?"
"I feel so good," she replied, with a delighted laugh.
"I bet you do." He picked up her drink and smelled it. Nothing. Just Diet Coke. With the way she was acting, he would have thought this was her third long island iced tea.
"I... phone."
Ned looked up at her. She nodded toward her phone, her lashes drifting down.
He knew her passcode, and entered it in. She made a few clumsy attempts to bring up her photos, laughing the whole time, and Ned tapped the icon.
The last photo she had taken was of a blond guy, clearly caught off guard. Decent-looking, but the angle and the flash weren't doing him any favors.
"Him," Nancy mumbled.
Ned glanced around, but didn't see the man from the image. He needed to deal with this; more urgently, though, he needed Nancy to be somewhere safe while he did. At least she seemed like she was about to pass out. "Let's go to our room," he suggested.
Nancy grinned and managed to force her eyes open again. "That sounds fantastic," she replied. "I... wanted to... ask you something."
"Oh?" Ned kept a firm grip on her waist as he guided her to the elevator bank, but she didn't seem at all inclined to wander off.
"Yeah." She turned to face him as they waited for the elevator car to arrive. "N-Nickerson, you wanna get married?"
Ned grinned briefly, though it faded quickly. She was drunk; this wasn't real. "Much as I'd love to unequivocally accept your proposal, let's just say you aren't in your right mind right now."
"Ned," she groaned, shuffling beside him as he guided her onto the next car. "Shh. Yes?"
He placed his hands on her shoulders, and she tipped her head back, then let it fall loose with a giggle. She let out a little startled cry when the car first began to move, stumbling against him.
"Yes," he replied, softly. "The next time you ask me, when you're sober, I'll say yes. I've been dying to say yes. That man you took a picture of did this to you?"
She drew a deep breath, her brow furrowing. "Yes. I think? All pushy." She wrinkled her lip in distaste. "Dunno how."
"I'll figure it out."
She burrowed against him. "Thank you," she whispered. "Dunno what... woulda happened."
A wave of sickened horror swept over Ned, and he wrapped her in his arms for a long, tight hug. For all he knew, the blond guy had somehow managed to put something in her drink and was making sure his hotel room was ready for whatever he had planned, while he waited for her to succumb. It was surprising that Nancy had as much control as she did right now.
And a few minutes either way... if only he'd managed to get here a little earlier. He didn't want to think about what would have happened if he had been later.
Nancy reached up and drew him into a long, deep kiss once they were in the dark hotel room, and Ned returned it, scooping her up and walking toward the bed with her. She made a soft, contented purring sound and kissed him again.
No burn of alcohol against his tongue.
He took her shoes off and maneuvered her into the bed, her long legs under the covers. "Look, baby. TCM?"
"Ooooh," she cooed, on seeing one of her favorite movies in progress. "Want to watch?"
"I will, sweetheart. I'll be right back, okay? I need you to stay here."
Nancy gave him a slow grin that, under other circumstances, would have set him ablaze. Now, it just troubled him. She was too out of it to know what she was doing. "See you soon," she sing-songed.
As soon as Ned was out of the room, he pulled out his phone and called the front desk. "I need someone in our room," he told the clerk. "I'll wait. My girlfriend is under the influence of some heavy medication and I don't want her to accidentally hurt herself." He paused. "Uh, a happily married woman would be great."
Chafing the entire time, Ned waited until a hotel staff member showed up, a woman who looked like she would take absolutely no crap off anyone. Ned gave her his number and told her to call if anything bad happened.
Then he raced down to the bar again.
The blond guy was, of all places, peeking warily into the women's bathroom. Ned stood a few feet away with his arms crossed, waited for the other man to notice him. Ned's jaw was set, painfully so, and he kept flexing his fingers, trying to calm himself down. The guy was definitely creepy, but. But.
"Oh!"
"Looking for Nancy?" Ned asked, trying to keep his voice casual. "The redhead?"
"Oh! Yes!" Ned placed the blond's accent as Australian as he ambled back toward the bar. "Had to take a call. Wow, 'e's thorough, ain't 'e? Well, ya do look more like 'im. Maybe she 'as a type." The blond slid onto a barstool and gestured for the bartender.
Ned ground his teeth for a few seconds. "Maybe she does," he agreed, wondering if this idiot had been drugged too, or if he was just pretending to be this clueless. "So what was your plan?"
The other guy shrugged, then offered his hand. "If we're gonna be workin' together, 'ere. Mick."
Ned took the offered hand, feeling rather like he was in some kind of bizarre dream, and shook it. "The plan?" he repeated.
Mick just stared at Ned for a few seconds, then shrugged. "Well, I'll tell ya this, she wouldn't take the drink I sent 'er. Utterly shut me down. I think I'll wait around here for a few, but maybe in the morning I'll be able to catch up with her again? Find something nice to do for her. Y'know. Have one last try before the boyfriend officially shows."
Ned's eyebrows flicked up. "The boyfriend."
Mick nodded, swallowing a long pull of his beer. "Ned."
Ned's eyebrows stayed up for a full second. "The guy I look like?"
Mick stared at him for another few seconds. Then his brow cleared. "Ah. He hired ya over the phone? His name's Ned. Dark hair. And you know what he wants." Mick snorted and drank another sip of beer. "My room's all wired up and ready, if I can evah get 'eh innit. You too?"
Ned had to force himself to swallow, to appear anywhere near calm. "Wired up," he repeated.
"Yeah. Vidiah cam'ras, stills, 'a 'ole nine yahds. Sound quality's shit, but ain't it always." He drank another sip of beer. "A'first I thought maybe she'd be into that? But she was a total ice princess tonight. I don't think Ned has anythin' t'worry about."
Ned would have privately agreed with Mick, for the most part—if Nancy weren't upstairs in the custody of a hotel staff member because Ned was too afraid she might drunkenly stumble back down here just to get in on the mystery of what had happened. "Yeah," he agreed slowly. "I don't know, though. Not sure giving her a roofie is fair play."
Mick snorted. "Accourse not," he agreed, with such disdain that Ned's brow wrinkled momentarily. "Any woman'd fall into bed with a bloke under that circumstance. This is about real life."
Ned studied Mick, considering. Excellent actor or complete idiot. He had a feeling it was the latter. "Let me go check with the bartender. Maybe she cashed out."
Mick nodded. "Be 'eah fo' a few if you wanna grab a beeah," he said easily, raising his beer bottle in salute.
Ned shook his head as he stepped out of Mick's earshot and caught the bartender's attention. The bartender rolled his eyes in Mick's direction, then stepped over to where Ned was.
"The redhead who was just here."
The bartender nodded, his gaze flicking back over to Mick again.
"Did he put something in her drink? It's important."
The bartender shook his head. "Not that I saw. But..."
"But what?" Ned asked, when the man trailed off.
"While he was trying to chat her up, this other rando came back here. He was wearing the right outfit, so I didn't question it, but I think he refilled her Diet Coke." The bartender shrugged. "Thought he was a trainee, but that was all he did, and I didn't have anyone on schedule to train tonight."
Ned nodded. "Remember anything else about him? Other than the right clothes?"
The bartender shrugged. "Dark hair. White. About your height? He disappeared before I could even yell at him."
Maybe she has a type. Ned had a very bad feeling about all this.
He thanked the bartender with a nod and a smile, then headed back over to Mick. "So how were you supposed to contact Ned, once you'd sealed the deal?" he said conversationally.
Mick laughed. "'e's so eagah f'r'it, he's out by the pool waitin' for an update. Hate tah disappoint 'im, but... has the chicky cashed out?"
Ned nodded. "Pretty sure that's it for the night," he told Mick. "Maybe we can get that beer later."
Ned managed to keep his expression close to bland and polite until he was out of the bar. Somehow, he managed to keep his stride even, if brisk, as he made his way to the pool.
The area was closed to guests—only a masochist would be out in this frigid weather, dipping a toe in an unheated pool—but the gate was unlocked. Submerged white lights danced beneath the rippling surface of the clear blue water.
The only person out there was on a lounge chair, cell phone on a short table beside him, staring at it intently. His attention was so focused that he didn't appear to hear Ned until Ned's shoe sole scraped slightly against the stucco.
Then he drew in a quick shocked breath.
"Hi," Ned said, lips curving up in a shark's grin.
Frank Hardy's movements became a little jerky and erratic as the adrenaline kicked in, and he tried to hide it. Ned was very familiar with that. "Hi!" Frank replied heartily, and pushed himself up. "So you're here? Nancy here too?"
Ned's grin had become a smile. "Uh-huh," he said, his gaze steady on Frank. "Why Mexico? Was this just a convenient place for this little prank, or were you just hoping Carson doesn't have friends down here? Because assuming that I let you walk away from this, please rest assured that's the next call I'm making."
Frank's gaze jerked away, then back to Ned's face, in the grainy faint light. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Uh-huh," Ned repeated. "So you hire Mick to get Nancy in bed, but just in case she isn't down for it, you spike her drink. Just..." Ned clicked his tongue. His voice was clipped, icy, quietly furious. "The absolute height of class. A-one work, Hardy."
Ned watched Frank's expression register false surprise, indignation, and then, there—sputtering, entitled anger. "You don't deserve her," Frank spat.
Ned's eyebrows rose. "And you do?" he replied, his arms crossed. "You really think she'll be disposed to trust you after you've drugged her and hired someone to rape her?"
Frank opened and closed his mouth once before he found his words. "That's not how those drugs work. It was just to give her a nudge."
"That is exactly how those drugs work, dipshit! You—"
Ned didn't quite have an out-of-body experience at that point, but it was close. He completely lost control of his temper. His fear over what could have happened to Nancy, his anger toward a guy who had been, so Ned had thought, a generally trustworthy person... He knew something had happened between Nancy and Frank during the summer, something that she dismissed but tightened her lips whenever she remembered. She had kept working with Frank and Joe, but almost always for cases that would involve their working with other detectives.
He had never pressed her on it, but he damn sure was going to find out now. After tonight, there was no way he wouldn't.
Frank managed to get in a few punches, his muttered threats and curses rough and guttural, but Ned landed far more. During that red blur of furious anger, he caught the edge of the thought, that they were right there next to a pool, that it could just be an accident—
A splinter of clarity drove through the hot miasma that had completely taken him over. No. He was not going to drown Frank Hardy in a swimming pool at a Mexican hotel.
Instead, when Frank threw himself at Ned with a bellow of rage and frustration, Ned put his foot out and let Frank's momentum throw him, in a flailing ball of limbs and curses, into the pool. Ned shook out his tight fists, drawing and releasing a few deep intentional breaths, as Frank surfaced, sputtering and shouting.
Then Ned reached for his phone. Frank was holding his, and seemed more angry about his phone possibly being destroyed than being in a cold swimming pool in frigid weather.
"Hi, yes? A—Well, I'm not even sure he's a guest. A trespasser has fallen into the pool, and he confessed to me that he has drugged a guest. —Yes, I'll wait."
Frank attempted to hoist himself out of the pool. Ned, his guts twisted in a fist of instant rage, put his shoe sole against Frank's forehead and pushed him back in.
It took some time, but Ned waited until Frank was in custody, until he'd been dragged away. Based on his enraged ramblings, Ned realized that Frank knew or somehow suspected something about the engagement, the proposal of marriage that Nancy had made while they had been waiting for the elevator, which... well, apparently that had triggered his break, somehow.
And that couldn't be it. Frank had drugged Nancy before she had proposed to Ned.
On the way back in, after a call with Carson that had ended with his girlfriend's father swearing he would be on the next plane to Mexico, Ned glanced into the bar area. The place was full of people pre-gaming before heading out, and Ned spotted Mick chatting up a bubbly girl who kept batting her eyelashes. Ned shrugged. She had a few friends with her and didn't seem anywhere close to Nancy's level of intoxication, so he headed to the elevators.
Then he caught himself short, stopping abruptly.
Fuck. To leave him so nearly an accessory to sexual assault. Ned hoped that if Mick had returned to find Nancy in that state, he would have left her alone, but that would have left her at Frank's mercy. And it sounded like Mick had no qualms about taking pictures of whatever happened or would have, with or without Nancy's consent.
Ned did an about-face and strode over to Mick and the girl he was chatting up. "Make sure you ask him about the cameras," Ned said over the din of the chatter and music around them, and saw her eyebrows go up. Maybe she would be into it; Ned just wasn't okay with the idea of her not knowing.
Then, with a little nod at Mick, Ned was heading back to the room again.
The hotel staff member was very angry when Ned arrived. "This isn't medication," she hissed. "What did you do to her?"
Ned shook his head. "The guy who did this to her is in custody," he said. "I just didn't have time to explain. Sorry. Is she okay?"
The staff member shook her head, glaring at Ned.
Ned, alarmed by her response, began to push past her, but she moved to block him. Ned forced himself to take a long deep breath so he could avoid decking her. He still had way too much pent-up anxiety and anger to work through.
"Okay. Okay. Look, if she's resting right now, it's fine, call the front desk. They can tell you what just happened at the pool. My suitcase is in here. My name was on the list when I checked in. I just want to make sure she's okay."
Still glaring at him suspiciously, the staff member pulled out her phone. Ned felt his own phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out.
"Hello? Yes..."
Just then his stomach growled, reminding him that he'd been planning to meet Nancy for dinner, and that had been... forever ago.
And, judging by this call, he wouldn't be eating again anytime soon.
--
Daylight. Bright, blinding daylight.
Nancy groaned. As she raised her hand to rub her eyes, bending her arm—well, it didn't hurt, but it did ache slightly. She glanced down, eyes nearly closed against the too-bright white, and saw a square of gauze taped on the inside of her elbow.
"What the fuck," she muttered, scrubbing the heel of her hand against her forehead and wincing. Makeup residue. She didn't go to bed without taking her makeup off, not if she could help it.
"What the fuck," she muttered again, a shade louder, then groaned.
"Mmm." The sentient furnace sharing her bed grumbled quietly, and then Ned turned over. He was shirtless.
And she... couldn't remember. Couldn't remember anything from the night before. But she was pretty sure she was wearing the same underwear, under one of Ned's t-shirts.
"What," she croaked.
Ned groaned as he rolled out of bed, pulled a bottle of water out of the miniature fridge, and slid it onto the table on her side of the bed. Then he dove back under the covers with a grunt.
"Short version, or long," he said, his voice gravelly.
"Mmm." She reached up to rub her head again. "Short to start."
"Last night when I walked into the hotel bar, I found you drunk off your ass," Ned said, rubbing his own forehead. "But you weren't. Someone had spiked your drink."
Nancy sat up, the ache momentarily pushed back by a bolt of adrenaline that only lasted long enough to set up a nasty pounding in her skull. "What?"
"That was my reaction too," Ned said, and slowly pushed himself up. "I take it you don't remember that part."
She shook her head slowly. "Last thing I remember is... getting dressed to go down there. White sweaterdress."
"That's what you were wearing," Ned confirmed. "You'd taken a photo of the guy you suspected, and after I brought you back up here, I found him. He was looking for you. He'd been hoping to get you back to his room. To get some proof of infidelity."
Nancy gasped in horror. "What? I don't..."
"Right," Ned nodded. "But he didn't know you'd been drugged. He was doing it on someone else's behalf, though. He said a guy named Ned had hired him."
Ned's gaze on her was too intense. Nancy took a few deep breaths. "Did you..."
"Yeah. It was... Frank. Who was waiting right outside for a report."
Nancy covered her face with her hands. "Holy fucking shit," she sighed.
"I confronted him and he said I didn't deserve you, and... I ended up throwing him in the pool. Because I really wanted to drown him and that seemed like a good compromise."
"Shit," Nancy whispered again.
"Then I called your dad, who is on the way here, because I didn't want him getting off with a slap on the wrist after this shit, and it was that or murder him with my bare hands."
Nancy nodded. "Makes sense," she murmured.
"So." Ned touched Nancy's hand. "Uh, want to tell me what happened between you two this summer? If it seems related?"
Nancy took another deep breath. She wondered how long it would take for her to get past this incredibly nasty hangover. "Uh, he made a pass at me," she admitted. Her lips quirked up in an expression that wasn't a smile. "I shut him down. Laughed, actually. Since then things have been... weird, between us? I thought that was just the price for finally taking a stand on it." She shrugged and met Ned's eyes.
"Finally," he echoed softly.
Nancy frowned. "I... well, the rest of the time, I just... I don't know, got through it, reminded him we were dating other people, and I thought that worked. And then a few weeks ago he tried again with some juvenile bullshit and I was exasperated and said we—you and I—were going to get married, this had never been appropriate but definitely wasn't anymore, and... well, I'm glad Joe was nearby. The look on his face was..." She shook her head.
"Married?"
She smiled and covered her flushing cheeks with her hands as she ducked her head. "Well, you'd proposed to me," she said. "Forever ago. And I..."
"You were planning to propose too."
She nodded gently. "I know..."
"Well, you did," Ned admitted. "Propose. Last night."
Nancy stared at him in horror. "Oh my God."
He smiled. "I thought it was the drug talking," he said. "I told you we'd talk about it again once you were sober, and I was just going to let it go, but... wow. So..."
She gave him a grimacing smile. "And it was awful, right?"
"It was very—abrupt, I think, is the best word for it. I think you just basically said 'Want to get married?'"
She shook her head. "Like we should just hop a plane for Vegas or something?"
"I didn't think it was quite that urgent, but there was definitely... some urgency. But like I said, it was as though you were very drunk, so I didn't really attach any meaning to it."
"So you turned me down? Was I a nightmare after that?"
He grinned. "I told you that I'd say yes when you asked me sober," he replied. "You seemed to accept that."
She grinned too. "Well, let's amend that to 'after some headache meds,' and you're on, Nickerson."
"Deal," he replied, and leaned over to kiss her cheek.
"So...?" She held out her arm, eyebrows up.
"So that was another thing your father insisted on. Apparently the drug is metabolized pretty quickly and he didn't want to wait. Also, I think he's going to completely eviscerate Frank, so you might want to say your goodbyes."
Nancy growled. "He'll get off lucky if he only deals with my father."
"Tell me about it," Ned confirmed. "Like I said. I really wanted to... resolve this, last night."
"And you'd have to get in line. He actually hired some asshole to... what, faux-seduce me?"
"Apparently. And Australian, to boot." Ned reached over and uncapped the water bottle, took a sip, and offered it to her.
Nancy shook her head, then took her own sip. "I guess that way, if he succeeded, I'd never have suspected that Frank was involved. I guess." She sighed. "I—a part of me is just so, so mad, so betrayed, but... I can't believe how easy it is to believe he did this. He just... He was so cold and angry when I told him."
"Well. I'm just incredibly glad that I walked in when I did, although I wish I'd been there early enough to head it off before it started."
"Then he would have just tried again," Nancy pointed out.
"Yeah. Still. It was just..." He shuddered.
Nancy scooted over and put her arms around him, and Ned embraced her hard in return. "I don't ever want to go through anything like that again," Ned said. "Because I will... I don't know what I'll do, if someone ever tries something like that with you again."
Nancy smiled. She was shivering a little inside, but for now, in his arms, she was okay. "I just can't believe I let someone slip something into my drink."
"The bartender said that a guy who was probably Frank snuck back there while you were distracted dealing with the Australian asshole, so it could be that dick—whatever his name was, something like that—was only meant to be a distraction all along. And if Frank had gotten to you before I walked in..." Ned shuddered.
Nancy shook her head, squeezing her eyes tight shut. "Don't," she whispered. "Don't even."
"Exactly."
They moved at the same time a few heartbeats later, finding each other in a sudden burst of wordless need, and they were naked a moment later. Nancy wrapped herself around Ned, kissing him desperately, clinging to him. Ned returned her kisses just as passionately, caressing her, touching her like they hadn't seen each other in months, in years. It had only been ten days, but apparently he had felt every second of it.
And so had she. She had been considering different ways to propose to him for so long now that apparently she had just blurted it out as soon as she was the slightest bit inebriated.
And maybe that was better. Maybe.
He groaned when he found her slippery wet, and she groaned when he slid inside her. Their lovemaking was urgent, frantic, and she sobbed as she hurtled toward their climax. When he came inside her she was arched and gasping, nails dragging down his back, pulsing around him in welcome.
Makeup residue on her face. Musky, teeth unbrushed, so much less polished than she ever wanted to be around him.
But it was time for that, if she had decided he was the man she wanted to share her bed and her life. Time for him to see her as she was, not with the front she gave everyone else.
He relaxed on top of her, panting, and she stroked his hair. Her heart was beating harder as she considered it.
Just do it. He already knows.
"Marry me," she whispered, her eyes closed, her lips against his ear. "Please."
"Of course," he replied, and she laughed, in relief, in joy. "I've always been yours, babe. Thanks for finally deciding to put a ring on it."
Nancy laughed again. Oh, she had a feeling that she wouldn't sleep for the next few weeks without nightmares, about what might have been, about what so easily could have been, but at least if he were there when she woke...
He kissed the point of her jaw. "So where's the black velvet box?"
Nancy snorted. "As though you had one, before," she pointed out.
"You don't know if I did or not."
She pinned him with a speculative glance. "Knowing you..."
He smiled. "It was back at my parents' house," he admitted softly. "Where it is now. And as soon as we're back home, it's yours."
She smiled. "That hardly seems fair," she pointed out. "I'm the one who proposed. I think you owe me a dowry, or something."
"I'll see if I can talk my dad into throwing in a few cows," Ned joked, then turned onto his side, still holding her. "Oh my God, babe. My God."
She smiled, embarrassed, and buried her flushed face against his tacky bare chest. "I'm sorry," she murmured.
Ned moved back, tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. "Don't," he said, and his voice was strangely fierce. "Don't be sorry for one single second about what happened last night. You weren't responsible for any of it."
"Even how upset you were?"
"Definitely not that. You did everything right. That dick called you an ice princess, so I know you did. You're here with me. You didn't do anything wrong."
She smiled slowly. Her eyes were pricking. "I didn't realize how much I needed to hear that," she whispered.
"I hope you know this about me, but... I'm never going to say that if you had made different choices, maybe things would be different, because that's a shitty way to live. I know who you are. I know what makes you happy. I just... always want to be a part of what makes you happy, because you..." He stroked his fingertips down her cheek. "I love being with you, Nan. Always have."
She smiled. "I wanted it to be the perfect proposal," she admitted. "I wanted to tell you how much you've always meant to me, how this was like the... the perfect bookend on all that we've become to each other since that date at Chez Louis, how I swear I'll change, and be better for you..."
"And why would I want you to change?" His dark eyes were so warm as he searched hers. "We're gonna grow, and I know that, and I'm excited to see what happens... but I know who I fell for. I know your heart. Maybe we both trusted the wrong guy, and I know we're very lucky at how all this worked out... but what part of you do you think I want to be different?"
"Well." She glanced away briefly. "I know I get... really absorbed..."
"You do," he agreed. "So much that I wondered whether you'd even remember that it was Christmas. But you did."
She smiled. "Yeah, that was another thing, waiting until Christmas night, after we'd seen our parents, spent all day together, casually bringing up just making this an official thing..."
Ned laughed. "And mine was completely basic in comparison," he said.
Nancy shrugged. "It had to be," she replied. "I mean, I feel like it did. You were on a deadline. And please know it was all very effective. If it had been a year later...?"
Ned flashed a grin. "So... blurted out while we were waiting for an elevator, while you were stoned out of your mind, like it was a thought you'd just had. Even you shushing me after when I told you that you weren't thinking straight. You could have done, hell, anything. Rented a plane to write it in the sky. Sent me a coded letter. Just walked into my parents' house, asked my mom for the ring, and stared wearing it."
Nancy laughed that time, for a long time. "'Ah, yes, this is mine,'" she said, with a flamboyant gesture. "'Thank you for keeping it safe for me. I look forward to announcing our engagement to you soon.'"
Ned nuzzled against her. "Please know that my mom is dying to put some miniature stockings next to ours on the mantel," he said. "Don't let it be weird for you or anything, but... she would have cheered if you had done something like that."
Nancy shook her head. "And now I get to tell my dad..."
Ned chuckled. "The one time I was happy to assure him that yes, I planned to be by your side all night."
"Mmm. Every part of today is going to be... a lot, isn't it."
"I certainly hope so," Ned growled as he rolled with her, and Nancy laughed as she embraced him again.