In the River Heights Mall, what Hannah jokingly referred to as the girls' summer home, Nancy, Bess, and George had grabbed a table in the food court. George was casting wistful glances at the perfect, nearly cloudless blue sky showing through the skylight, her half-finished salad on the tray in front of her. Bess popped the last bite of her burrito into her mouth with a satisfied smile, then wiped her hands carefully, her legs obscured by the veritable sea of shopping bags she had stowed under the table.

Nancy, unencumbered by any shopping bags at all, took the noisy final sip of her lemonade and sighed.

"We've been everywhere," George answered Nancy's wordless complaint. "Everywhere. Even some stores Bess has never dragged me to."

"Which were fabulous," Bess said, pulling her favorite find, a vintage distressed jean jacket, out of the bag to hold it to her chest. "I can't believe this was twenty percent off!"

George propped her chin on her hand, then gazed at Nancy with sympathetic eyes. "I know you feel like you need a new outfit..."

"I do," Nancy replied. "This is our first date, since we've really gotten back together, and..."

"You want it to be special," Bess nodded. "You've looked great in everything you tried on. What was wrong with that black dress?"

"Too somber," Nancy sighed, propping her own chin on her hand.

"The stripes?" George asked.

Nancy made a face. "Too... sailory."

Bess made an exasperated gesture, then shoved the jean jacket back into the bag, giving it a last long fond look. "Well, if you really want to knock his socks off, we could go to Martina's."

George rolled her eyes. "And get what, a prom dress or a wedding gown?"

Bess sighed happily at the thought. "I always wanted something in red satin."

As Bess and George continued to tease each other, Nancy let the familiar sound of their ribbing fade from her consciousness and looked through the window. Outside, couples were walking hand-in-hand, eating ice cream in the early summer warmth, carrying oversized bags from the high-end department stores, the smaller striped bags from the lingerie stores. All the same clothes. Nancy smiled, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She had no problem figuring out what to wear underneath; it was the perfect outfit she needed. Something exquisite, an outfit he'd never seen before. This was supposed to be their fresh start, and she wanted to do it right.

Three years together, and a single case had managed to tear them apart.

Nancy looked down at her half-finished plate. Strictly speaking, that wasn't true. It hadn't been just one case, or her suspecting Mike O'Shea of complicity in the practical jokes at Emerson. She had allowed the case to come between them, to make her doubt Ned's motives, to make her even doubt Ned himself.

She still hadn't been able to talk to Ned about it. Three weeks after their tentative reconciliation, three days after his telling her that he still loved her, and she didn't want to test this by bringing it up again. She hated to remember it. A week of crying herself to sleep, a month of wondering how she'd ever get through the next day, much less the rest of her life, without him; now he was hers again.

But for how long, she wondered, remembering the grief and resolve in his eyes when he had broken up with her. It had hurt him, she knew, but he had gone through with it anyway. She just didn't know how to make sure it would never happen again. The thought of finding another Brad to stave off the loneliness was too much to bear. She had to make Ned hers, for good, this time, even though the memory of the spoiled prima-donna of a ballerina he'd dated while they were apart still stung a little. How could he have accused her of taking too much time with her detective work, when Belinda had done nothing but harp about the rising star of her career? But then, Belinda was well on her way to becoming a pro, while Nancy would never have that kind of status. Maybe it was all that simple. He wanted a girlfriend he could be proud of, not an amateur snoop who always put her cases before his feelings.

"Nancy?"

Nancy shook herself, then smiled back at the concern on Bess's face. "Hmm?"

"Tell me you just had an epiphany," Bess begged. "Your face looked epiphany-esque. Maybe something in navy with a sweetheart neckline, like the last store we tried?"

Nancy sighed and swept up her tray, heading for the trash can. "I think we've done all we can here," she called over her shoulder.

"Thank God," George addressed the heavens.

"Bess gave me an idea," Nancy continued, when she reached the table again. "This is the mall. Every girl here is looking at the same clothes. We need something... unique."

"Martina's?" Bess clapped, her eyes bright.

Nancy shook her head, smiling. "I'm not eloping with him," she replied.

George swept up her own tray, along with her cousin's. "You already know he loves you," George said, slowly. "Do you think he'd love you more if you show up in the perfect dress?"

Nancy shrugged. "Not really," she replied. "But this is our second chance to get this right..."

"And nothing gives a girl more confidence than knowing she looks like a million bucks," Bess finished, a knowing look in her eye. "Which, if we keep going like this, is what the limit on your credit card is gonna have to be."

"Maybe something from the Vera Wang spring collection?" Nancy teased Bess, and George rolled her eyes, taking their trays.

"You read my mind," Bess giggled.

--

When Nancy finally made it back to her house, the porch light was already burning, and she shivered on the way to the door. Once inside, she dumped her shopping bag and purse on the couch and let herself fall to the cushions, tilting her head back and closing her eyes.

"Any luck?"

Nancy smiled up at the ceiling for a minute before she raised her head to see Hannah standing in the door of the kitchen, a mug cupped in her hands. "Some," Nancy replied, smiling despite her aching feet. "Want to see?"

"Sure. Did you have dinner while you were out?"

Nancy nodded, then glanced up from digging through her bag. "Oh. I'm sorry..."

Hannah smiled. "Yours is already in the fridge," she said.

Nancy's rummaging stopped, and she glanced over at the door to her father's study. "Dad already asleep?"

Hannah chuckled. "What exactly did you buy, that you don't want him to see?"

"Well, I couldn't decide," Nancy admitted, then grinned. "So I think I won't get any allowance for a while, but it was worth it."

She pulled out a champagne halter dress, its hem falling just above her knees, the soft V at the back draping over her hips but leaving the rest bare.

Hannah drew her finger over the silky fabric. "Sure you won't be cold?" she smiled.

"I think George asked me something like that," Nancy admitted. "And then Bess said she wants to borrow it, as soon as she loses that last five pounds. The club gets pretty hot, though..."

"Ahh." Hannah nodded knowingly. "And the other?"

Nancy pulled out a cowl-necked top in thin white matte jersey, followed by a dark pencil skirt. "George likes this better," she said. "But I don't know. I feel like, the dress says fun, and the shirt and skirt are more..."

"Modest?"

Nancy playfully swatted at Hannah. "Formal," she corrected. Then she glanced down at the champagne-colored dress. "Do you think it's too much? I just don't know anymore. I think we went through every store in River Heights, and then half of Chicago..."

"I'm sure it looks fine, Nan," Hannah reassured her. "You can show it to me tomorrow, once your Dad has gone to work."

Nancy grinned. "Sounds good. I'm sorry I was out so late, I didn't think you'd be waiting up for me."

Hannah shrugged. "It's just so good to see you happy again," she said. "You'd better get to sleep soon, girl, so you'll be rested up for your big date."

Hannah turned out all the lights on her way to bed, and Nancy went into her room. The moon made the curtains glow bright beside her bed, and the picture of Ned on the small table was indistinct. She could only see his smile.

She washed her face, found an old t-shirt to wear and climbed into bed, but she stared up at the canopy over her head, unable to sleep. Now that she had something to wear, all she had to worry about was meeting him tomorrow night.

And she was worried.

Whatever else happened, whatever else did happen between them, she had known Ned for years now, and even though she had been friends with Bess and George since elementary school, Ned... things were different with Ned. He was her best friend. She loved Bess and George like sisters, but when she was with Ned, sometimes, sometimes they knew each other so well that they could act as one. She could bounce ideas off him, trust him to cover her when they were on a case, and he made sure that she didn't take things too seriously, didn't wear herself out. He was perfect.

She just hadn't known how much that perfection had taken out of him.

He had always been supportive. He'd always been there. He'd made her feel amazing, loved... and when he had told her that he needed out, that things weren't working anymore, she had been floored. There had been signs, of course there had been signs. But she had taken him for granted.

She didn't want to take him for granted anymore. She had missed him so much, so much it was hard to admit it even to herself. Since she was a child Nancy had been used to doing things herself, to getting by on her own. She loved her friends, but she'd never needed them, not like this.

And she had never loved anyone, anyone, the way she had loved Ned. The way she still did. Needing someone this much, wanting to be with someone this much...

Nancy swung herself up in bed, suddenly, bent her knees and drew them to her chest. Maybe he felt this way too. He was an only child, the best at everything he tried, and when he was with her... sometimes none of it mattered. Sometimes whatever he did, it wasn't enough. She still went off and fought her battles without him. She did her best to make sure she didn't need him, didn't absolutely need him, that she could live her life without him if she had to. She knew now, for certain, that she could.

But she knew that that life was a miserable one. She wouldn't be alone, without him; but she'd never be whole again either.

And he loved her anyway.

Nancy buried her face against her knees. She hadn't cried, since the night before Belinda had broken up with Ned. After he was free again, after she thought that maybe they had a chance again, she had been too afraid that this tentative dÈtente wouldn't last, and he would decide that his first choice had been the right one. She wasn't the easiest girlfriend to have; she knew that. She wasn't the best or most attentive girlfriend to have.

But she was his. And being with Brad had only convinced her that Ned might not be a law student, he might not be destined to be Illinois's next senator or the Secretary of Defense, but, to be honest, she didn't want him to be. Things were almost, almost perfect like this, in this beautiful slow limbo between high school and the rest of her life, before responsibility and car payments and mortgages. What he shared with her now, what they had, she'd known it wouldn't last, but she hadn't known until he had been walking away from her, that terrible cold night, while the emptiness sung in her ears and in her heart.

She didn't want to be a senator's wife. She didn't want to be defined in terms of possession and ownership, she didn't want to be the "and Mrs." on the Christmas cards, on the invitations to baby showers and weddings of distant cousins. But she hadn't thought about what Ned wanted to be, either. Maybe he didn't want to own her, maybe he didn't want to take her to some pretentious jewelry store in Chicago and pore over a case full of diamond rings, but she couldn't remember the last time she had even bothered to ask. Their relationship had been defined in that one sweet summer, the summer they had met for the first time, the summer she had fallen for him, and maybe he had been unhappy for those three years and had just never told her.

She wanted him to be happy. She saw that now, clearly. Because he was her best friend, and she loved him. She hated the truth of it, was afraid of the horrible truth of it, because in her entire life the only person who had never let her down was her father. No one else was ever supposed to have gotten this close. She had no idea how he'd managed it.

Nancy punched the pillow and lay back down. She didn't want anything to be fragile anymore. Maybe he did love her again, but for the first time, she felt that she needed to find a way to earn that love, to show him that she was worth it. That he was worth more than she had ever found herself able to give him, too.

In a champagne colored halter dress that clung to her every curve.

--

Nancy was standing in front of her mirror, looking at her reflection, blushing. She'd been able to manage a glass of water before Hannah had threatened her life if she didn't eat one of the chicken salad sandwiches she'd made for lunch. Bess had come over, armed with three separate cases full of makeup, hair supplies, and enough glitter for every contestant of a Miss America contest to walk away happy. After three hours, Bess had pronounced Nancy "ready for anything, including an unexpected prom entrance."

Well, anything but running, Nancy thought, looking down at her heels ruefully. Four-inch stilettos. Although running was the last thing she was worried about.

It didn't look this... low... in the dressing room.

Nancy, who was usually unflappable, steady as a rock... had never looked like this. Not undercover, not on prom night, not at a frat party, not on a date with Ned. She picked up one of Bess's many tubes of glittery perfumed lotion and considered it for a moment.

When she looked in the mirror again, her dÈcolletage was... shimmering. Her dress was breathtaking. Daring, yes. She still felt slightly naked, like the skirt was a breath too short and the neckline a hair too deep, but when she turned to take in her profile, her back looked gorgeous, bare and smooth, her legs long and shapely.

Nancy pressed her lips together, then glanced at the clock. Fourteen minutes. She still had enough time to ask Hannah's opinion, maybe change her mind and put on the pencil skirt instead. She had been acting so nervous that Bess had given up on her and gone downstairs to hang out with Hannah until Ned showed up. Thank God her father was at a law-review dinner.

Nancy went into her walk-in closet, walking with careful slow steps, keeping her posture straight, and found a small clutch, then tossed a powder compact and lipstick inside. She was almost to the door of her room before she turned back and rummaged in her nightstand.

"Not that I'll need it," she muttered to herself, tossing her miniature lockpick kit into her clutch. No matter how short her skirt was, she felt defenseless without her lockpick kit.

Hannah was trying to talk Bess into eating another cookie when Nancy made her way silently down the stairs. Bess was trying her best to resist, and she had been so good on her self-imposed diet for the past few days. Nancy decided to put her out of her misery.

"So... what do you think?"

Bess's mouth actually, literally, dropped open when she saw her friend. "Oh my God, Nan."

Hannah's eyes widened a little. "He's not gonna know what hit him."

Nancy looked down, gesturing vaguely at her chest. "You don't think... maybe I should change?"

Bess, who had stood up, walked over to Nancy, then circled her. "No, definitely not," she declared. "I think you need another coat of mascara, but no. And if you don't wear that, Nancy Drew..." she shook her head. "It would be a damn shame."

Nancy glanced at the delicate gold watch circling her wrist. "The last time I felt this nervous..." she chuckled. "I was in a dumbwaiter during a thunderstorm."

"So where are you two going?" Hannah picked up the plate of cookies, turning to head for the kitchen. "I'd offer you one of these, but I'm afraid you'll just come right out of that dress..."

Nancy smiled. "I don't know where we're going," she admitted. "He said to dress up, but that's all."

"Maybe he's taking you to Chez Louis."

Hannah laughed from the kitchen. "That might be good. You've barely had a thing to eat today."

At Bess's raised eyebrow, Nancy shrugged. "Can't eat," she explained.

"It really is love," Bess declared dramatically, smiling. "Just relax, Nan. Everything's gonna be fine. And you look gorgeous."

Nancy gave Bess a genuine smile. "Thanks," she said.

"And if you don't mind, I'm going to sit in the living room with you and wait so I can see Ned's face."

"I thought I made you too nervous," Nancy teased her.

"You do," Bess affirmed. "But it's worth it."

When she heard the knock on the door, Nancy stood, smoothed her skirt, and reached for her wrap. Then she changed her mind and tossed her wrap and purse back onto the couch and went to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

Ned was looking down, his brown hair gleaming from the porch light, but he glanced up, and when his eyes caught hers, it took her breath away.

His jaw fell, and he exhaled without managing to speak. "Nan... Nancy, you look..."

Brilliant, she could almost hear him thinking, but she blushed deeply as his gaze traced the curves of her dress, overwhelming any further insight.

"Thanks," she replied, taking in the crisp white of his shirt, the matte black of his suit. "You look..."

He held her gaze for another moment before smiling. "Thanks," he said softly. "Hi Bess."

"Just leaving," Bess said. She held her hand up to her cheek, making a "call-me" gesture as she shouldered past Ned at the door.

"Yeah," Nancy replied, chuckling. "Bye, Bess."

Ned's eyes were glowing too. "I'll be sure to make things interesting," he called, as Bess paused on the way to her car.

Bess just laughed. "Knew I could count on you, Ned," she replied. "Behave yourselves."

Ned turned back to Nancy, his gaze catching on the glitter. "Right," he replied softly.

--

She was too nervous to be anything other than faintly disappointed when he didn't head downtown, toward Chez Louis. Instead, he directed the car toward Chicago, and Nancy crossed her ankles, settling in for a long ride.

"How've you been?"

Ned shrugged. "Not bad," he said. Then he sighed, so softly that she almost didn't hear it. "Thinking about a lot of things."

"I have too," she said, before her nerves could get the better of her. "Do you want... did you want to talk now? Or wait, until we get to wherever we're going?"

Ned glanced over at her. "We can talk now," he said. "When I say I've been thinking, it's not a bad thing. It's just... when we were apart, I missed you. A lot."

Nancy swallowed. "I missed you too," she said softly.

He smiled. "I never get a chance to take you out like this, and I just wanted to take advantage of it, and you... look..."

Nancy's smile slowly broadened, but this time she didn't interrupt him.

He shook his head. "Like the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She looked down. "Glad you like it," she said. "I almost didn't wear it."

"I'm really... I'm really glad you did."

She watched the water as he maneuvered the car through the traffic on Lake Shore Drive, and when she closed her eyes she had relaxed the tiniest bit. This was better than Chez Louis, she had to admit. Any restaurant on this side of Chicago was incredibly gorgeous, and outlandishly expensive.

"Wow," she said softly, the lights reflecting in her eyes as he found a parking spot near the water's edge. "Maybe I should have asked for a later curfew..."

"You think we're actually going to get home tonight?" Ned teased her. "Don't worry about it."

"And we have reservations?"

"Yeah, and I saw how slow you're moving on those heels, so..." He glanced down at his watch, grinning. "I still think we'll make it, though."

"Just for that, I ought to take them off," she replied, but she took his arm and let him help her out of the car.

He looped his arm around her waist, his forearm brushing the bare skin at the small of her back, and she shivered softly. "I'd rather you not," he murmured, close to her ear, his breath against her hair.

When they were inside Nancy took her seat with unmatched grace, and Ned was smiling after she draped her napkin over her lap and glanced up at him. "What?" she asked, smiling in answer, raising her eyebrow.

He shook his head. "I've never seen you in a situation where you didn't look as though you totally owned it."

"Just stick around," she said, propping her chin on her hand. "I'm not sure anyone could own being stuck in a dumbwaiter, especially me."

"You lived," he said softly. "I was so afraid I wouldn't see you again, and I wouldn't be able to tell you..."

Nancy reached for his hand. "All that thinking we've been doing... I just want you to know that... you're my best friend, Ned. You're amazing. And I appreciate the support you give me, everything you do for me, and this restaurant, it's beautiful, but you didn't have to do this. I'd be just as happy sitting on the couch at your parents' house, with you, ordering a pizza and watching a movie. If that's what you wanted to do."

He stroked his thumb over her fingers. "I wanted to do this tonight," he said softly, smiling. "Because, what we have... it's important, Nancy. Important to me. I just wanted you to know that. I'm sorry things between us... I'm sorry, I didn't try harder. I shouldn't have just broken up with you like that, it's just, I was hurt..."

"You're important to me," she told him softly. "So important that sometimes I forget that you aren't a part of me. And I'm sorry that I wasn't listening the way I should have, when you told me what was going on with you. I never want things between us to go that badly again."

He nodded. "I feel that way... I feel that way too. I felt like a part of me was gone, when we were apart..." His face colored slightly, and he trailed off, looking down.

"We're going to be okay, aren't we," she said, keeping her eyes on his, and his were gleaming when they met hers.

He nodded, slowly. "Yeah," he admitted. "Yeah, I think we are."