Title: Far Away From All the Trouble
Rating/Warnings: G
Word count: 1960
Summary: It feels like they're the only two people for miles and miles and miles.
Notes: You know 'porn without plot'? Well this is that, without the plot OR the porn. NOTHING HAPPENS, IT'S JUST FLUFF. For the mountain square on my cottoncandy_bingo card.
For ulstergirl - I wish I could write you Nancy/Ned more often. I hope this kills a craving and puts a smile on your dial.
Ned seemed reluctant when Nancy suggested they stop and make camp. There were still several hours of daylight left, the sun warm and yellow and filtering down through the gently-wavering leaves, which were just starting to turn.
"We could make it to the next ridge before dark," he said, gesturing.
"We're not in a hurry," Nancy reminded him with a smile. "And we haven't seen a single person since we left the main trail this morning."
He looked at her for a moment, but she saw him relax, and he let his pack slip from his shoulders, his t-shirt damp with sweat from where it had been resting against his back. "You're right," he said with a grin. "We've got nowhere to be. This is as good a place as any."
They had climbed high enough to have a view of the surrounding forest, rolling on and on in an expanse of greens, yellows and reds, only broken occasionally by grey and white slabs of stone. Far behind them, the ground sloped down, the forest growing sparse and giving way to meadows of grass and wild flowers. Ahead, the mountains rose higher and higher, neatly outlined against the blue sky. Somewhere to Nancy's left, the river was cutting through a shadowed valley, tumbling over rock and sand, the banks high and exposed after the long summer.
They were only planning on spending one night out under the stars. As she dropped her pack carefully to the ground, Nancy suddenly doubted her decision, and wondered if she was missing some sort of opportunity by stopping so early in the day. There were still hours of daylight left, and the weather was fine and clear.
But Ned took her hand and tugged her in the direction of the river. They left their packs in the clearing and followed the sound of water until the river glittered in front of them, cascading over the rock and darting in and out of the shadows of the overhanging trees.
Nancy took her shoes and socks off and rolled her jeans up so she could trail her feet in the water, and Ned did the same, sitting beside her on the sun-warmed rock, their faces turned up to the sky.
"I'm glad we did this," Nancy said.
"I do have the occasional great idea," Ned agreed with a grin, leaning back on his elbows. "Though I'll admit my primary motive was trying to find us a place we could go with very low odds of encountering a mystery of some kind."
"Ah, Ned," Nancy sighed, rolling her eyes. "Do you know me at all? Leaving our packs behind was a mistake – they're sure to be stolen by the time we get back. We'll spend all night hunting for pack-thieves."
He laughed and reached for her. "It wouldn't surprise me," he said, grumbling against the top of her head as she nestled into him.
They lay there for a while in silence, listening to the splash and tumble of the river, Ned's arm under the back of Nancy's neck, his fingers idly toying with the ends of her hair. Nancy watched a hawk circle against the blue curve of the sky, until it disappeared over a dark ridge of pine into the next valley, and she closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin and Ned's breath against the top of her head.
"Burglary, kidnappings, arson, murder," Ned said, forcing an exaggerated tone of exasperation into his voice. "But you can't solve the mystery of how to put a tent together."
Nancy laughed and flung a handful of leaves in his direction. "Shut up, Nickerson, or you'll be sleeping alone tonight."
The sun was falling towards the far mountain ridges, and the light was filtered and golden through the trees. Ned fed another tent pole through the canvas seam of their tent, and Nancy watched his hands as he fitted things together and looped a nylon rope around a peg, tightening everything with quick tugs and deft knots.
She leaned over to kiss him, and the sun's light caught her hair. "You do come in handy, sometimes," she said.
Ned traced his thumb across her jaw, his mouth still brushing hers. "I try," he said, grinning. He leaned forward and kissed her again, the backs of his fingers slipping lightly down her cheek.
He gathered dry branches and got a fire started as Nancy pulled on a sweater and unrolled their sleeping bags, zipping them together and muttering curses in the fading light as the zipper caught on the material every few inches.
There was a distinct chill in the air now. Nancy sat down close to Ned, and they leaned their backs against a lichen-covered log, their feet stretched towards the fire. They'd brought hotdogs and foil-wrapped potatoes, and they waited for the flames to die down and settle into coals.
Ned pulled a leaf gently from Nancy's hair, and she lifted her face to grin at him, kissing his chin and the corner of his mouth. "It feels like we're the only two people for miles," she whispered.
He smiled back at her and cupped her face to kiss her again. Dusk was quiet – just the low rustle of the wind in the leaves, the ever-constant rush of the river, and the snapping and sparking of the nearby fire. Somewhere in the distance, two warblers trilled back and forth through the trees.
"We should do this more often," Ned murmured, brushing his lips over Nancy's.
"We should." Nancy nodded and kissed him again, but she knew, even as she made the silent promise to herself, that the opportunities for these getaways were few and far between.
They ate with their hands, licking at fingertips scorched from their fire-toasted food, Ned eating at least twice as much as Nancy and complaining it still wasn't enough.
"I might have packed a little something extra," Nancy said lazily, looking up at him in the glow of the fire. It was properly dark now, the silhouettes of the mountain range black against the starry sky. "Maybe something as a little surprise."
"I knew you were holding out on me." He grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.
"Give me a moment, though," she sighed, too content to move. Ned tightened his arms around her and she closed her eyes, listening to the wood pop and crack in the flames.
"You're not falling asleep, are you?" Ned murmured against her temple. "You're not allowed to fall asleep yet, Nan. Our day isn't even close to finished."
"Oh no?"
"So many mysteries to solve," he breathed in her ear, voice teasing. "The mystery of your unexplained attraction to Ned Nickerson. The mystery of how long you can resist Ned Nickerson before you drag him into the tent. The mystery of what to wear to bed when Ned Nickerson is right beside you."
Nancy made a sound halfway between a scoff and a tut, and elbowed him with a laugh.
"I've solved that last one already," Ned said, and he fell sideways, laughing as Nancy elbowed him again. "The answer is nothing. Ow!" He laughed again and Nancy rolled on top of him, grinning and batting his hands away as he tried to take hold of her waist.
"Ned Nickerson needs educating on what can be classified as a mystery," she said, pinning him to the ground.
He gave a low chuckle and leaned up to kiss her, catching her lower lip between hers, his tongue soft and quick against her mouth before he fell back again. "Educate me all you like," he said.
Nancy gave a helpless laugh and rested her forehead against his chest, her knees pressing into the leaves and dirt either side of Ned's hips. "Why do I put up with you?"
"A long-standing mystery I am yet to solve," Ned sighed, and he pulled her ponytail free, gently stirring his fingers through her hair to shake the strands loose around her shoulders.
She stretched over him to kiss him again, slow this time, warm and open, letting her tongue touch his lips and his tongue gently. Ned's fingers traced a line above the waistband of her jeans, his touch cold against her warm skin.
"Kisses like that," Nancy whispered, breaking away reluctantly, "have a lot to do with it."
"Well, so long as there's one reason," Ned answered, smiling up at her. His eyes were dark, and reflected the glancing light of the fire.
"At least one," Nancy confirmed, smiling back at him.
"Catch!" Nancy called, and she tossed the bag of marshmallows across the fire.
He caught them with a grin. "Of all my girlfriends, you're my favourite," he said, tearing the bag open.
She laughed and sat back on her heels. "Please," she said. "If you had any other girlfriends, I'd know about them."
"Can't hide anything from you, huh?"
"Nope." She grinned at him and peeled back the foil on a block of chocolate.
"Hm," Ned said thoughtfully. "I guess not."
Nancy looked up at him. "What?" she asked suspiciously.
"Nothing." He raised his eyebrows in mock-innocence.
"Is this you trying to invent mysteries again?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
He grinned and popped a marshmallow in his mouth. "You tell me, Detective Drew."
"Maybe I'll just withhold the chocolate and the graham crackers until you crack," she threatened.
"It was me trying to invent mysteries," Ned said immediately, reaching for her. "Come here."
She laughed and settled back down beside him to toast marshmallows, sighing in satisfaction at every mouthful of the warm s'mores, sucking melted chocolate from her fingertips.
"So, all those mysteries we've solved together," she said tiredly, resting her cheek against his arm. "Any time the suspect threatened you, or questioned you, or tried to force you to cooperate – they just needed to present the option of s'mores to you, and then withhold them?"
"My one weakness," Ned groaned dramatically. "And now you know it."
She laughed and sandwiched his hand between her own. "Your secret is safe with me." She looked up at him, the stubble on his jaw highlighted in the light from their campfire. "Trust me?"
"Completely," he answered, smiling down at her.
Nancy kept her eyes closed as Ned mouthed kisses down her neck, his hands circling slowly against her skin – hips, waist, stomach, breasts.
Above, the roof of the tent flapped slightly as wind shivered through the trees, and an owl hooted quietly.
She could picture the small, dying glow of their fire, the only spark of light for miles and miles and miles as the mountain range spilled away into the distance under the starlit sky. It felt like she and Ned were the only people in the world.
She trailed her fingers over his back and wrapped her arms around him, smiling against his shoulder as he nuzzled kisses into her skin.
"We should really do this more often," she whispered.
He grinned against her cheek and his breath was warm against her skin. "It's not me you need to convince, Nan."
"Fewer mysteries," she promised, not for the first time, and not for the last. "More Ned."
He kissed her, and it felt like sealing a deal between them.