They took turns cooking. When Nancy woke she smelled stir-fry, which meant it was George's turn. Nancy lost track of the days when she was away, but since she was usually home on the weekends, she managed to get out of cooking most of the time. Saturday night was date night, Sunday for leftovers, and by Monday morning Bess was shoving some unimaginable amount of meat and vegetables into the slow cooker for their dinner.

"Thought you might be home," George said over her shoulder, dumping a bag of frozen pearl onions into the pan, as Nancy pulled out a chair at the table and put her head in her hands. "Things took longer than you thought?"

"In a way," Nancy admitted, then sighed and pulled her hair back from her face, threading it through an elastic. "Anything I can do to help?"

George shook her head. "Everything's just down to stirring. Although Bess said something about stopping by the bakery and getting dessert for tonight."

"She didn't want to bother making it herself?"

"She still hasn't gotten their recipe for the raspberry tart exactly right. I think she thinks if she tastes it enough, it'll just come to her." George covered the wok and pulled out another chair. "So, is the world still safe?"

Nancy smiled. "Until the next time they interrupt my life, I hope so."

"Speaking of... Ned seemed pretty disappointed that you missed your date on Saturday night. Have you called him or anything?"

The two of them turned when Bess's key scraped in the lock, and she swung into the kitchen, her eyes just visible above the paper bag in her hands. "I think I kind of outdid myself," she said, sliding it onto the counter. "Nancy! Did you see those great roses you would've gotten if you'd been here Saturday night?"

"Yeah, Ned told me about that," she said, and George, who was almost back at the stove, stopped dead in her tracks.

"So you have talked to him."

Nancy smiled. "You could say that. We ran into each other in New York."

Bess stopped unpacking the bag immediately and sat down at the table, on Nancy's other side. "Okay, spill. Everything. Don't leave anything out."

She told the cousins everything, noting with some amusement the gleam in Bess's eye when she mentioned their sleeping arrangements, that Kevin had managed to get her the seat adjoining Ned's, that they had parted warmly at the airport before climbing into separate taxis and going back to their lives.

"Even though you were in that," Bess said in mock disapproval, as they sat with the remains of George's dinner in front of them and she served them each a slice of the raspberry tart with vanilla ice cream.

"Hey," Nancy said, plucking at the t-shirt and pulling it away from her side, "at least he paid for it. He didn't have to."

"Hell, girl, if you bought dinner, buying you some cheap t-shirt was the least he could do."

"And this," Nancy said, unfolding her legs and sliding on her bare feet, back to her room. Her gaze lingered on the white rose for a moment before she scooped up the shot glass and brought it back to the kitchen. Bess was just licking a smear of vanilla ice cream from her thumb when Nancy returned.

"A shot glass," George said thoughtfully. "So he wants to get you drunk."

"You two are terrible," Nancy said, laughing as she took the plate Bess extended to her. "It wasn't that bad. He's not that bad. I just... I can't believe I spent last night in his hotel room."

"Neither can I. Didn't it take you five years before..."

Nancy looked down at her plate. "Yeah, but I was twenty, and nothing happened. Nothing ever happened. I mean, say what you want, but I've never slept in some guy's t-shirt while he was five feet away from me."

"Well, if you had to pick one." Bess took another carefully considered bite of her pie. "Besides, if he thought you looked good before... I cannot wait until you two have your 'actual' first date."

Nancy gave in to Bess's subsequent pleadings for another of their marathon shopping days, and they were all sitting in the living room, the television flickering blue on their faces, when the phone rang. Nancy jumped for it immediately.

"Hey Nan."

Ned could already tell their voices apart on the phone. Bess had had some boyfriends for so brief a time that they never quite got the three straight. "Right. Lucky guess?"

"No, it was that tone in your voice. You must have caller ID."

Nancy waved at Bess and George, then vanished down the hallway toward her own bedroom. "We do. What tone did I have in my voice?"

"Like you'd been waiting all day to hear from me."

"Or at least the last seven hours," she teased him. "You think I miss you that much?"

"I'm kind of counting on it," he said softly.

She lay down on her bed and looked up at the shadowed ceiling. "How could I not miss you, after our marathon playdate."

He laughed. "Don't take it as an indication. My dates don't normally last for ten, twelve hours at a time."

"That's a little disappointing."

"Oh? I seem to remember that by the end of it, you were bored to sleep."

She'd barely been able to sleep. She'd been listening to him breathe all night, her heart like a hummingbird singing under her skin.

"You just won't believe me, will you," she chided him, rolling onto her side. "I had the best date of my life last night. Did that do it?"

He chuckled. "It's a start," he admitted.

Ten minutes later, she rejoined Bess and George in front of the television, her eyes sparkling. Bess raised an eyebrow.

"So?"

"So... you think we can find the perfect outfit by Saturday night?"

Bess smiled. "When have I ever let you down."