"I thought you said we were getting up at 9 a.m."

"Shh," Nancy hissed, trying to look casual. "Actually, we're meeting here at 9 a.m. So you'll have to be up earlier than that."

Across the room, a dryer spun, ticking over every few minutes. Nancy and Ned were seated on washers on the other side, Nancy's long legs swinging, while they waited for the student union to close.

"They're going to check here," Ned said.

Nancy turned and fluttered her lashes at him. "You don't say," she replied. "Why Ned, whatever are we going to do, hide in empty dryers?"

Ned shuddered. "I'd rather be arrested. Again."

Nancy checked her watch, fidgeting. "In about twenty more minutes we'll find a good hiding place," she said. "Until then, how about some poker?"

Ned watched, incredulous, as Nancy pulled a pack of cards out of her coat pocket. "Howãwe've been dating for how long, and I've never seen you just pull out playing cards."

"One of Bess's aborted valentine ideas," Nancy admitted, shuffling the fresh pack of pink cards. "Any suggestions?"

"Strip?" Ned held up his hands defensively at his girlfriend's withering glare. "I'm too keyed up to play cards right now."

"Only because I'm not going to take my clothes off?"

Ned conceded the point. "Here," he said, taking the deck and shuffling it thoughtfully. "Slapjack could get out of hand too easily..."

"Says you."

The sound of an echoing ring of keys came from the hallway, and Nancy and Ned stared at each other for a second before he jammed himself under a folding table and Nancy squeezed between a stack of washers and the wall. "Anybody there?" the watchman called, glancing around before he flicked the lights off and closed the door behind him.

Nancy, panting from the tight squeeze, managed to push herself out again just as Ned lifted himself out of his crouch. "Maybe we should talk to Dean Jarvis about how loose security is around here," Ned grumbled, brushing a layer of dryer lint off his coat.

"But then we wouldn't be able to do this," Nancy pointed out, linking her arm through his. "Come on."

"So what are we here for?" Ned asked, leaning close to her so that his breath ruffled her hair, as they peered around a corner, listening for the watchman.

"Anything that points to either Max and Marina, or Fitz," Nancy whispered back.

"You mean like a huge note scrawled in blood that says 'I hate the Theta Pis and especially Rosie'?" Ned asked. "That kind of clue?"

Nancy elbowed him in the ribs. "If we find that, probably the person who wrote it will be sneaking up behind us at the time," she retorted. "In a Michael Myers mask. On the count of three, hit the stairs."

They went down to the boiler room one last time, but she had already been over it pretty thoroughly, and they didn't find anything new. Ned came across a stack of oily rags, but Nancy didn't see a gas can or any other accelerants nearby. Max was nowhere to be found, and even though Nancy had her strapping and fine specimen of a boyfriend with her, she was glad.

"Okay, let's head upstairs."

Ned snuck over to see the reception desk, with the watchman behind, his feet propped up as he cast desultory looks at the security cameras. Ned motioned for Nancy to follow him to a back stairwell, where they wouldn't be seen.

"So you really think there's a chance Fitz is behind this."

Nancy shrugged, keeping her voice low and cringing at every echoing tread. "He fits the profile, and he has the opportunity," she replied. "The motive is a little sticky. All the girls love him to pieces. Why would he spend all this time to build up a relationship with them if he's this sadistic?"

"Sociopath," Ned suggested. "Oh, I hope I'm wrong. We're wrong."

They walked very quietly, on the edges of the soles of their shoes, down the hall with the offices, keeping as close to shadows as they could. Every now and then Nancy would stop to listen, and Ned, caught off guard, would bump into her, his hand seeking hers in the dark. She just smiled and squeezed back, until the way was clear again.

"Cover me," she murmured as they found Fitz's office door. "How often do you think the watchman does his rounds?"

Ned shrugged. "He's so slack that we might not see him again the rest of the night," he said sourly. "Or we have incredibly bad luck and we'll see him again in fifteen minutes."

"And how often do you think Fitz comes up here to do some last-minute paperwork?" Nancy whispered back, sorting through her lockpick kit by feel until she found the right tools.

"Well, if we're assuming he's the stalker, then I don't see how he possibly has time to do anything else. Why?"

Nancy shrugged, sliding a thin file into the lock. "We can turn the lights on," she replied. "Nothing looks more suspicious than a flashlight bobbing around in an office."

"Yeah, but then when the watchman comes by to say hello, and we're not Fitz..." Ned balled his fists in his jacket pockets.

"Then we come up for a very good reason why we're in here," Nancy said smoothly, as the lock clicked back. "All right, come on in."

They both cringed when Nancy flipped the overheads on, their pupils adjusting. Nancy scanned the wall for a security alarm, relaxing when she didn't find one. She pocketed her tools again and slipped on a pair of black gloves.

"I'm very glad that you use your powers for good instead of evil," Ned teased her, glancing around. "So, green paint, Rosie's locket, syringes..."

Nancy nodded, heading right for his desk, which was covered in papers, as though he had just walked away from it and was planning to return at any moment. But the lights had been off and the door locked, so she gently slid open his middle drawer. It seemed to stick in the middle. "Hey," she called softly to Ned. "There might be something taped under this. Come over here for a second."

Ned pushed the office chair back and studied the drawer while Nancy ducked into the well beneath, shining her penlight on the underside. "I don't know," Ned murmured doubtfully. "We'd have to go through every paper in this office. I don't think he knows a thing about filing."

"And I'm sure all your school papers are neatly in order," Nancy teased him, running her fingers along the seams.

"Sure," Ned said, and then, too late, Nancy heard the footsteps in the hallway and froze. Ned's legs and feet froze too, and he had her effectively pinned in her hiding place, but when Nancy tried to recall the layout of the room, she realized they were screwed.

"Mr. Fitzgerald," the guard said, his voice trailing off as he caught sight of a man who most certainly was not the person he was expecting. "What are you doing here?"

Nancy gently nudged Ned's legs to the side and crawled out from under the desk, triumphantly holding up an earring she had just removed. "Found it," she told him. "I lost this earlier today and came up to see if it was in the office."

The night watchman looked back and forth between the two of them, at where Nancy had been, and a look of dark understanding came over his face. "All right, the two of you, out," he said, coming into the room and shooing at them. "You have dorm rooms for this sort of thing."

Ned found his voice first. "We weren'tã"

"Found a nice unlocked office and thought you wouldn't have to make the trip back in the snow?" the watchman corrected him sourly. "Go on."

Nancy smothered her laugh as she slid her earring back in, making an appropriately chagrined face as she squeezed past the man. Ned followed, looking the entire time like he was going to protest, but a swift glance from her convinced him otherwise. Soon the two were standing out front in the snow, with the watchman glaring out at them.

Ned sighed. "Find anything under the desk?"

"No," Nancy admitted mournfully. Then she glanced over at her boyfriend. "So what were you going to tell him we weren't doing?"

Ned opened his mouth, shook his head, and linked his arm through his girlfriend's. "He's watching," he explained. "And I think I was just told by a figure of authority to take you back to my room for the night."

"Sure," Nancy replied sarcastically. "So now you'll walk me home?"

"Afraid I can't," Ned said, in all mock seriousness. "It's in the wrong direction."

"He doesn't know that."

"Miss Drew, do you know what Most Valuable Player on Campus means? Out there," he made a wide gesture, indicating loosely the direction of River Heights, "yours may be the face most recognized, but that watchman certainly knows who I am and what frat I belong to. Besides," he said, leaning in close to her as they rounded a hill and left the student union building out of sight, "we have to get up early in the morning, anyway."

"All right," Nancy sighed dramatically, hiding her smile. "But I have to be back at Theta Pi for breakfast in the morning."

"No walk of shame would be complete without it," Ned agreed, his breath leaving a cloud behind them as they headed for Omega Chi.