i run nedxnancy.tumblr.com for my daily fix of nancy/ned action. i love: nancy drew, law & order criminal intent, the fall, dark city, mad men, arrested development, archer, community, justified, lois & clark, star trek, perry mason, jane eyre, eddie izzard, terry pratchett, addams family, apple, bertha cool & donald lam, MST3K, interpol, my morning jacket, st vincent, playmobil, diana gabaldon's cracktastic outlander series, raymond chandler, cillian murphy, wodehouse; alias, chuck, carnivale, pushing daisies, the adventures of pete & pete, tomorrow people (new series), veronica mars, legend of the seeker/the sword of truth, lost, x-files.

 

Nancy/Ned, #76: broken pieces

( revolvers asked for this one too )

It’s not supposed to feel this way, Nancy thought, once she ended the call. She was on the window seat in her room, gazing out into the neighborhood. The sky was painted a dazzling pink and orange, and she could hear lawn mowers and children shrieking and laughing as they dashed through sprinklers and brandished hoses. In her room the stillness was deafening, and she hugged her bent legs, her chin resting on her knees.

It had been a mutual decision. Frank had agreed with her, that they should take a break, take some time to consider and discover what they wanted and whether that meant being together. Without that connection between them, Nancy could already tell that she and Frank would drift apart when they weren’t working on cases together.

It had been hard enough to get through the conversation, and she had felt okay, prepared for it, at peace with it. She had talked it over with Bess and George; she had even mentioned it to her father. But now? Now she felt like her heart was broken. She wanted to call him back, to tell him that he wasn’t supposed to agree. That if he agreed, he didn’t care—and if he wanted them to be apart, that she wasn’t going to hold onto him when he didn’t want to be tied to her.

She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against her knees, and couldn’t think. She just felt miserable.

When she looked up again at the sound of a slammed car door on the street below, the sky was beginning to darken to navy velvet, and her tears had begun to subside. Her stomach was still solid with anguish. She had never felt less hungry, or more bleakly sad.

Then she heard footsteps on the stairs and hurriedly wiped her eyes, hoping she didn’t look too bad. She was just being foolish. She was going to be all right, somehow, eventually.

A tap at her door made her sniffle, and then she heard, hesitantly, “Nan?”

"Oh," she whispered, putting her feet on the floor. She had totally forgotten. "Oh, Ned, I’m so sorry—come in—"

He opened the door and stepped into her bedroom. He was smiling, and the sight of his familiar handsome face, square jaw, dark hair and muscular body made her smile, too—until he saw the expression on her face.

"Oh, oh no—what’s wrong?"

She shook her head, but when he came over to her and wrapped his arm around her, she was only able to keep her face impassive for a few seconds. “We broke up,” she whispered, and when he drew her into his arms for a hug, she didn’t resist it.

"I’m sorry."

She sniffled. “I thought—if he really loved me…” She shook her head.

Ned patted her back, and when she didn’t go on, he finally spoke again. “So let’s blow off the party,” he said. “Go grab a burger or a milkshake and just hang out for a little while. Let me try to take your mind off it for a little while, huh?”

She began to shake her head. “I’m not hungry… and I really… I won’t make good company.”

He shrugged. “Then we could go to a movie,” he suggested. “You won’t have to talk. We can watch something that won’t make you sad. Some big, loud stupid action movie. I’ll even spring for some Junior Mints.” He gently tipped her chin up, giving her a hopeful smile.

She sighed, then gave him a small smile in return. “I guess if I stick around here I’ll just mope for the rest of the night,” she murmured. “I’ll just… mind if I clean myself up? I’ll be down in five minutes.”

"Okay." He released her, then squeezed her hand. "Nan, I am really sorry. I hate that you’re upset."

As soon as he had closed her bedroom door again, Nancy wiped her face with her hands and sighed. It would be good to take her mind off things, for a little while, anyway. She pulled a short denim skirt out of her closet, and instead of picking a black t-shirt to match her mood, she pulled out a sunny yellow and orange top.

Maybe her heart was broken for now, but she hoped that it would begin to mend soon—and when she came downstairs and saw Ned rising from the couch with a smile upon seeing her, she knew it would.

Nancy/Ned, #44 - two roads

( revolvers asked for this )

"Mail for you, Nan!"

Nancy called a thanks back to Hannah as she checked the small table near the door. The mail had been sorted into neat piles: one for Nancy, one for her father, and one for household expenses. One envelope was large and thick, and Nancy’s eyes widened, her heart racing. She had applied to several colleges, but she hadn’t heard back from her top two choices yet. When she checked the return address, she saw that the large envelope was from Emerson College.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed happily, and Hannah came in from the kitchen, apron tied around her waist and her hands on her hips, a smile on her face.

"Thought you might be happy."

"I can’t believe it…" Nancy worked her thumb under the flap of the envelope and saw the words she had been hoping she would see. Dear Nancy Drew, Emerson College is pleased to accept your undergraduate application for the upcoming fall semester…

As happy as she was to see the thick envelope and all it represented—the opportunity to be near Ned for the rest of his time at Emerson, to spend more time with him—she couldn’t help looking at the rest of the mail, too. Along with a couple of credit card offers, she found another slender envelope. Well, at least this will make my decision easier, she thought, opening that one too, expecting to see a polite rejection inside.

Dear Miss Drew, the Admissions Committee at Wilder University is delighted to offer you a place in this fall’s freshman class. A registration packet will follow in the next few days…

Nancy smiled, but she walked the few steps to the couch and sat down, deep in thought. Wilder was her other top choice. Bess and George had already decided to attend Wilder, although they had applied to some backup schools too. And Bess would probably getting home about now…

Right on cue, Nancy’s cell phone began to ring; when she picked it up, Bess was already breathless with excitement. “Nancy! Nancy! I got in!”

Nancy knew that her relationship with Ned would stay strong, if she wanted it to. But if she went to Wilder with Bess—and George, since George had also received her acceptance letter that day—she and Ned would be hours apart, only able to see each other when their schedules coordinated. They could make it work, but it would be hard. Distance had strained their relationship before, though. As much as she loved him, she didn’t know how much stress it could bear.

That night, Nancy debated for a long time before she called Ned. She knew he was working on some important classwork, and she hated to interrupt, but she needed to talk to him.

This is what it would be like, she thought as she listened to the ringing on the other end of the line. Phone conversations and Skype sessions and emails. Wanting to feel his arms around me so badly that when it finally happened, I’d almost be drunk with happiness. But we can make it work.

"Hey gorgeous," Ned murmured, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. "I was just thinking about you."

Nancy closed her eyes. For the next four years. Four years. Is this what you want?

She didn’t know what she was going to say when she opened her mouth. “Ned… I was just thinking about you too. I love you.”

"I love you too, honey."

She took a breath. I’m sorry… Ned, you’ll never believe it…

"So you think maybe you can make some time to show a new freshman around?"

"Depends on the freshman."

Her heart was beating faster, and her lips curled up as she grinned. “If she’s a hot redhead with long legs, sparkling blue eyes, and a thing for handsome dark-haired quarterbacks?”

"Oh, in that case, I could definitely show her around,” Ned replied, laughing. “Seriously? Are you really going to come to Emerson? Please, don’t tease me.”

"I would never." She closed her eyes, smiling. "I’ll be there with you in the fall."

Ned cheered loudly, and Nancy dissolved into happy laughter.

"I never thought I’d say this," he replied, once he was almost back to normal, "but August can’t get here fast enough."

so

i keep playing with this theory

that perry mason and della street were TANGLED UP WITH THE MOB somehow and decided to take the fight to them so they ended up in chicago but they had to use different names because some boss in los angeles had put a bounty on them

but perry being perry, he ended up a defense attorney anyway, but as carson drew

and he and della were together all the time and, well, della ended up pregnant with their baby

and they named her nancy

and then the mobsters caught della and so perry was left to raise their daughter, who had all his intelligence and all della’s bravery and attitude

and so he raised her the way he wished della had been raised, missing her the whole time.

Nancy/Ned, #10: breathe again

( revolvers asked for this one )

"Ned."

He glances up and she’s rushing toward him and he stands, in the pale tense silence of the waiting room, punctuated by people who don’t feel the way he does. In his earshot, people are laughing, exchanging murmured comments, and living. In this room, all around him, it feels like everything holds its breath.

She wraps her arms around him and holds him tight, and his mother stands and rests her hand on Nancy’s back. “I came as fast as I could,” she murmurs into his chest. “Any news?”

"No," Ned’s mother replies, and when Nancy pulls back, her eyes are gleaming and her face is pale. "No more news. Have a seat, Nancy."

Nancy laces her fingers through his and sits beside him. Two of the three people who mean the most to him in this world are here with him, but his mind is on his father. Since his father was wheeled back from the emergency department hours earlier, Ned has felt like he couldn’t pull a full breath, like he can’t relax until he knows his father is all right.

"Ned, I’m so sorry."

Ned looks down, nodding a little. Nancy squeezes his hand, and soon she and his mother are exchanging a few words, catching up with each other, but their tones are strained and he wants to shout at them to just stop it. Nothing else matters right now. Nothing else can.

Then they lapse into silence and Nancy rests her head against his upper arm. “It’s going to be okay,” she tells him. “I know it is. He’s going to pull through.”

It’s another two hours before they hear anything; his mother and Nancy both offer to bring him a snack or something to drink, but he has no appetite. When the doctor comes in, the three of them stand together, Ned’s mother on his left and Nancy on his right, their hands joined.

"He’s out of surgery, and he’s going into post-op right now. He looks stable." The doctor gives them a small, reassuring smile. "If everything goes well tonight, he’s going to be all right."

And his mother buries her face against Ned’s shoulder and Nancy squeezes his hand, and finally, Ned can breathe again.

Nancy/Ned, #99: solitude

( revolvers asked for this one )

Normally Ned doesn’t mind being around his Omega Chi brothers. Normally, though, he isn’t spending three days working on an intense service project. They set it up to coincide with their spring break, because that was the most convenient time for all of them—but that meant turning down Nancy’s offer to accompany her on a case in New Mexico.

The campus is quiet, but not abandoned, and Ned doesn’t really start to decompress until they return from their project, exhausted and sweating and dragging. He has to wait his turn for the shower, but once he’s in there, it’s nice to be alone; it’s nice to know that no one is waiting on him, that he can relax for a while. And when he’s in the shower, his eyes closed as he lathers his hair, his thoughts turn to his girlfriend.

Two days and a weekend left in his spring break. He has projects to work on, essays to plan, but for tonight, he just wants to lounge and relax and maybe call Nancy, see what she’s doing.

He walks back to his room with his hair still damp, a towel slung low on his hips, and he’s so engrossed in his own thoughts that it takes a few seconds for him to register it: the person sitting on the bed in a tank top and a short skirt, displaying miles of shapely tanned leg, tilted back, palms behind her on the bed and propping her up. Her head is tilted, and a lazy smile curls her lips.

"So I know," she begins in a quiet drawl, "that you just finished your service project, but I was wondering if you might be willing to start another one."

"How soon?" he asks, locking the door behind him without taking his gaze off her. His grin is wide.

"Tonight," she replies, peering at him from below her lashes. Then she shifts her weight and stands, as he walks toward her.

"And what exactly do you have in mind?"

"Mmm. Keeping a bored amateur detective’s overactive mind occupied," she says, her gaze locked to his as she slides her arms up over his shoulders. "That trip to Santa Fe was a bust—and half the appeal was knowing a tall, handsome, dark-haired man might be able to go there with me, split a hotel room bed, maybe buy me a couple drinks one night…"

"Well, maybe if he thought you might put out," Ned teases her, then leans down and rests his forehead against hers.

"Did you have some big plans tonight?"

"Mmm. Thought it might be nice to spend a few hours alone." He reaches down and gives the towel a sharp tug, leaving it on the carpet as he begins to walk her toward the bed, their gazes still locked. "Care to keep me company?"

"Always," she murmurs, just before their lips meet.

patrickdowsett asked
63 Nancy and Ned!

Tina has been keeping an eye on the room for three days now. The honeymoon suite often bears a “do not disturb” tag, but the happy couple generally at least asks for fresh towels or more coffee. Not so, in room 803. She wouldn’t even know the couple if she saw them—the clerk says she has sparkling blue eyes and long reddish-gold hair, and he has a chiseled jaw and dark hair, but Tina hasn’t seen anyone who looks like that.

She’s wheeling her cart through the hall, picking up the room-service trays left out for collection, when she hears the chime announcing the elevator car’s arrival.

It has to be them. At five-thirty in the morning, the world is blue and shadowed, and maybe they were caught up at a party, with other partygoers offering them celebratory rounds. But they’re both dressed in dark jeans and long-sleeved gray tops; his jaw is lined in dark stubble and her hair is pulled back into a bun. She tugs out the elastic and it falls in a reddish-gold spill down to her shoulders.

And then he loops his arm around her waist and pulls her in for a long deep kiss, and Tina glances away, hoping her cart hasn’t rattled and alerted them. When she looks back they’ve taken two more steps closer to their room, but the new bride has her fingers in her husband’s hair and her body arched against his and they look fully, happily engrossed in each other.

"All right," he murmurs. "What did we agree?"

"Your turn to pick," the young woman replies. "Blue satin, this time? Black lace?"

He shakes his head, pulling out the keycard. “Nothing,” he growls, and the woman’s lashes flutter down as his lips drift down her neck and he opens the door to their room. Tina sees the shine of satin and the webs of fine lace in tangles on the floor and the bed, but she sees other things, too: a map, a grappling hook, a black duffel bag, what looks like heavy-gage wire cutters. Then the man’s palm slides beneath the hem of the woman’s shirt, revealing a strip of bare skin, and the door drifts shut behind them.

When Tina passes near the door, she hears the murmur of their voices, and she can only make out some of what they say: “the girl’s safe,” “so incredible,” “actual honeymoon now.”

Then the woman’s voice, in a long groan. “Oh God, I love you, Ned.”

He chuckles as he replies. “Love you too, Nan.”

ahh, souhait.

writing it is like wrapping up in a warm comfortable blanket. a warm comfortable blanket which is occasionally embroidered with broken glass and razor blades.

hmm.

been adding a lot to tumblr savior lately but i think that might be a sign that i need to unfollow some people, or a lot of blogs.

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