Written for ForGood for Christmas 2006.

"What if Ned doesn't like cloverleaf rolls?"

Hannah laughed at the panicked tone in Nancy's voice. "But you love cloverleaf rolls."

"But he might not!" Nancy looked down into their shopping cart, scrutinizing everything. "This is so nerve racking!"

Hannah had taken Nancy with her on her Christmas grocery trip, on the day before Christmas Eve. Even though she and Ned had been dating since the summer, their school schedules and Nancy's learner's permit meant that they didn't see as much of each other as they liked. Ned had spent Thanksgiving with his parents out of state, but now, for Christmas, he was around, and he and Nancy were spending all the time together that they possibly could. And Nancy wanted to make sure that this, their first holiday together, was perfect.

"Nancy..." Hannah patted Nancy's shoulder reassuringly. "Girl, the only thing I've ever put in front of him that he didn't eat was olives. The boy has the biggest appetite I've ever seen. And this is Christmas. Stop worrying. Everything is going to be great."

Nancy sighed, then forced a smile. "I guess you're right."

"Have you decided on a present for him yet?"

Nancy scooped up a box of cereal and tossed it into the cart. "No," she admitted. "Bess said a stuffed bear would be good."

"Does he have a lot of stuffed bears?"

"It's not like I've seen his room, Hannah," Nancy said, blushing faintly, but she was smiling. "He won a bear when we went to the fair a couple months ago, but he gave it to me."

"As he should have," Hannah said, nodding. "I'm going to make a tin of cookies, I think your father said something about gift cards..."

"I don't want to get him a gift card."

"Are Bess and George coming by later?"

"Bess doesn't know, it depends on whether her mother will drive her over. She doesn't want to ride her bike in this."

"Bess never wants to ride her bike anyway," Hannah said, but not without sympathy.

"And George never wants to do anything else."

"Then it's settled." Hannah selected a can of green beans and put it in the cart. "We're going to the mall."

Nancy smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."

--

The mall was crowded. Incredibly crowded. Nancy loosed her scarf and plunged into the packed mass of teenaged girls clustered around the perfume counter, until she realized that it was the wrong one. She looked down at her aching, still-numb feet and sighed. A stuffed bear was looking more and more appealing, but she couldn't imagine it doing anything other than collecting dust.

"Girls are so much easier to shop for," she complained aloud. "Lip gloss and chocolate."

She found Hannah next to a display of butter-soft leather gloves. "These are nice," she told Nancy. "Did you find that book on gardening for his mother?"

"No," Nancy admitted. "But gloves would be a nice present."

After Hannah selected a pair for her sister, and Nancy found some for Ned's mother, she and Hannah managed to elbow their way to the front of the men's cologne counter. A very harried-looking saleslady finally noticed them, and Nancy smiled.

"I'd like to try... that one."

Nancy passed each sample card over to Hannah, for a second opinion. The green bottle smelled too old, the smoked-gray bottle too spicy, the blue like old rainwater.

"I don't know," Nancy said, finally, rolling her eyes as yet another elbow hit her in the back. "This is too hard. None of them smell like him."

"And he doesn't already wear a cologne?" Hannah asked.

Nancy shook her head. "Not very often. He said he hasn't found one he likes... I'm beginning to see why."

The saleslady blew her bangs out of her face and rummaged under the counter for one last bottle. "Here," she said, spraying it on yet another slip of cardstock. "Try this."

Nancy took it, already feeling her heart begin to sink, but this one... smelled just right. Woodsy and spicy and... yes. She could see Ned wearing this.

Hannah nodded hard when Nancy passed it over. "I mean, you'll be smelling it a lot more often than me," she teased Nancy. "And he a lot more often than you."

"Maybe," Nancy said. "If he even wears it at all. But this one... I like it."

"Good." Hannah reached into her wallet and found Carson's credit card. "We'll take it."

--

"My parents are acting crazy. Well, my Mom is, anyway. I had to clean my entire room."

"How horrible for you," Nancy teased Ned, flopping down on her own bed, holding the phone to her ear. "At least you don't have to dig Barbie shoes out of your carpet."

"That's true," Ned admitted. "I don't know why, either. It's not like you'll be coming up here."

"Well, my room's clean. And tomorrow Hannah made me promise that I'll be helping her cook, so I won't be able to go anywhere with you."

Ned groaned in disappointment. "I miss you."

Nancy warmed happily. "I miss you too," she said. "But if you get over here early, we'll be spending the whole day together."

"When you say early..."

"I mean I'll probably be working on the cookies, and you and Dad can sit in the living room and watch football."

Ned paused. "Can I admit something?"

"As long as it's a good something."

"I'm still a little afraid of your father."

Nancy laughed. "Why?"

"He's famous, Nan! And a lawyer!"

Nancy shrugged. "And he taught me how to play baseball and ride a bike and drive, and he used to read me stories when he put me to bed and he knows how to make the best cinnamon french toast. He's no one to be afraid of."

"I guess not."

"I mean... I know you talked to him when we first..."

"Started dating," Ned supplied, when Nancy trailed off.

"I mean, did he say anything intimidating to you?"

"Just that he'd break both my legs if I ever hurt you."

For a second Nancy paused. "You know, I'm not sure whether to believe you..."

"I was joking, but now you've scared the heck out of me."

"It's just... he is protective of me. Not super protective or anything, he still lets me hang out with Bess and George whenever I want, and he hardly ever tells me I have a curfew, but then, I don't even have a car yet."

"They get a lot more protective once you have a car, trust me," Ned told her. "Your dad does seem like a cool person. But I also think that if I ever ticked him off, the cops would never find my body."

"You're probably right," she told him, choking back her laughter. "So just keep on his good side."

"Thanks," Ned said, in mock sarcasm. "You're a big help."

"Hey, you want any cookies or not?" she laughed.

"I do," he said. Then Nancy heard, distantly, the indistinct sound of Ned's mother's voice. "Mom's calling me, I have to go. I'll call you later?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I'll be waiting."

"Just don't start any new mysteries in the next few days, and we'll be fine," he warned her, good-naturedly. "Bye, Nan."

"Bye," she said, and when she listened he waited just a second too long to hang up, just like she did.

She smiled and replaced the receiver, then went downstairs to find her apron and start helping Hannah.

--

Ned was bundled into his leather aviator's jacket when Nancy opened the door Christmas morning, and he came inside swiftly, stamping his feet. "Whoo, it's cold out there."

"And a Merry Christmas to you too, Ned," she told him, her eyes sparkling. "You have groceries?"

"Oh..." Ned looked over at the brown paper bag he'd put next to the door, as he shrugged out of his coat. "Mom put all the presents in a bag."

"All the presents?" Nancy was smiling. She dusted her hands over her apron, which was already sprinkled liberally with cake flour, then untied it and lifted it over her head.

Ned nodded, and as Nancy laid her apron over the rail, Ned came to her and picked her up in his arms, holding her close. "Man, I've missed you."

She loved hearing him say that. "Missed you too," she told him, burying her face against his shoulder. His arms were warm around her. "Maybe Hannah won't notice that I haven't quite finished frosting that cake, and we can just stay here for a while..."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ned said, but he didn't let her go, and she grinned. "I didn't know you weren't finished yet."

"Which do you want more?" She ran her hand over his hair. "To hug me, or to have cake for dessert?"

"To hug you," he said promptly, and gave her a brief, sweetly chaste kiss. "Besides, I know Hannah's probably already made pie and cookies, too..."

Nancy hit Ned's shoulder lightly. "Not the right answer," she teased him back.

He slowly, reluctantly, put her down. "Can you hurry with the cake frosting?" he asked, his eyebrows raised, his voice barely pleading.

"Okay," she said, taking pity on him. "I won't leave you alone with Dad for too long."

She left them shaking hands, the paper bag standing beside the couch, and vanished back into the kitchen, pulling the apron over her head and tying her hair back up in a ponytail. "So, Hannah?"

Hannah was looking over her master list. "So, I want the mashed potatoes to be hot, and we don't bake the rolls until right before... as soon as you've finished frosting the cake, you two can go play until lunch."

"Are you sure?" Nancy sat down and picked up the spatula again, scooping up another dollop of chocolate frosting. "Because I promised to help..."

"And you have. I don't think I've ever seen you up so early on a non-school day." Hannah smiled, her own faded apron over a deep red sweater and black pants, her hair tied back in its usual bun. "I know how much you've missed him."

Nancy smiled at her surrogate mother and went back to frosting the cake. "Thanks," she said. "And tonight?"

"Your father can make a turkey sandwich with the best of them," Hannah reassured her. "This is your first Christmas with Ned. Enjoy it."

First Christmas. Somewhere near the top of the tree, when she and her father had been decorating it, there had been an old-fashioned, almost Victorian ornament, nestled between the paper candy canes and popsicle-stick reindeer heads Nancy had made in elementary school, their faces liberally sprinkled with glitter, lovingly packed and brought out every year. The couple was smiling at each other, their plaster faces painted with glowing pink cheeks. Our First Christmas. Every year they put it on the tree, and Nancy didn't ask. Seeing how carefully her father handled it, how high he put it on the tree, she didn't have to.

She'd just never thought of having her own first Christmas. Not the way that treasured ornament implied. She had her own, a Baby's First Christmas ornament decorated in pink tartan, with a baby who couldn't have looked any more unlike her nestled between the folds, but...

Yes, she realized. This is the first Christmas for the rest of our lives.

"You okay?"

Nancy startled back to the present, her spatula still resting on the already-frosted surface of the cake, motionless. "Yeah," she said hastily, smoothing it before drawing it away, the way Hannah had taught her. "Fine. Just... thinking."

When Hannah pronounced the cake acceptable, Nancy pulled her apron over her head, tossed it into the laundry room, and walked out into the living room. Ned was on his feet immediately, visibly relieved at her entrance.

"Okay, I'm free," she said, and reached for Ned's hand. "Dad, if you could let us know when lunch is almost ready...?"

"And where will you two be going?" Carson asked, smiling. "Not far, I hope."

"Well, it's snowed, and it's Christmas... Ned, you want to make a snowman?"

"Sure," Ned said, glancing back and forth between his girlfriend and her father. "If you don't mind, Mr. Drew?"

Carson waved them off. "Go," he said. "As long as we can play poker before you go over to Ned's."

Nancy stopped at the edge of the entryway with her hand still in Ned's, her mouth dropping open. "Dad, that's cruel and unusual."

"Only if you're afraid of me."

"You're on," she declared. "After lunch. But we have to take it easy on Ned."

"Hey, don't pull your punches on my account," Ned protested. "Mr. Drew."

Nancy's eyes were dancing when they met Ned's. "I'm just going to get my boots from upstairs," she said. "Do you want to make a snowman?"

"Front yard, or back?" he teased her, scooping her up in his arms when they were safely out of her father's sight.

"Front," she said. "If Bess and George were here, though, we'd have a snowball fight, because George doesn't usually have the patience to make a snowman."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, squeezing her before he let her go.

Ned was on her porch when Nancy came back downstairs, already bundled up, his hands in heavy gloves, a scarf pulled up over his chin. Outside, the world was all blue and white and clean, with the black curve of the scraped road between the blanketed perfection of the manicured lawns. "Was the drive too bad over here?" she asked, coming up beside him and looping her arm through his elbow.

"Not really," he replied, then leaned down and kissed her softly, and even though it was so cold outside that her breath hung in clouds in the air, she was warmed all the way to her toes. "Shall we?"

Nancy was still a little dazed, but she raised her hands, showing him the extra cap and scarf. "Ready."

They worked together, rolling the snowballs into larger lumps of packed ice, as the children down the block came out with their presents, sleds and bikes and remote-controlled cars. Nancy stood on her knees, sweeping her arms out to bring the snow together in front of her, but she caught Ned more than once, just standing still, gazing at her.

"Come on," she smiled, punching him lightly in the shoulder. "We have to get the snowman finished before lunch."

Ned sighed, but he was smiling, "I can't wait until we get back to my house," he said.

"Better not tell Hannah, you'll hurt her feelings," Nancy teased him.

"Oh, it's not like that," he assured her. "I love Hannah's cooking, and I'm sure lunch is going to be great. But... I don't know. I look forward to Christmas all year long."

"I do too," she said, then lifted her hand so Ned could help her stand up. "Hannah never makes her special potato salad any other time, and the tree, and the lights..."

Ned nodded. "And you'll be here," he said softly, and despite the cold kiss of the wind against her cheeks, she felt them warm softly. "It's kind of... well, none of my relatives live very close, and I've never had any brothers or sisters... you know how it is."

She nodded. "Bess and George have basically been my sisters," she told him. "But they're not with me all the time." She smiled. "I'm really glad you're here."

He nodded, and hugged her only briefly, mindful of their audience. "How much longer do you think it'll be until lunch?"

"Starving already?"

Ned rolled his eyes. "Well, you were the one who brought up Hannah's cooking..."

"Right," she said, then leaned down and scooped up a massive handful of snow. "He just needs a bit more of a face..."

When she stood back, she could hear Ned backing up behind her, but she thought he was just trying to get another perspective. Then she felt the first snowball hit her between the shoulder blades, and she whipped around, her eyes slitted in mock rage. Ned was laughing silently, his eyes wide.

"You'll pay for that, Nickerson."

"Really?" He held his hands up, palms out, in a gesture for peace, then bent down quick as a flash and made another snowball. Nancy, after a split second of deliberation, raced for the backyard, where she knew there was more snow, and she could find somewhere to hide while she stockpiled snowballs.

Half an hour later, when Carson went out to call them in for lunch, he followed the footprints around to the backyard. Their tracks crisscrossed everywhere, the splattered remains of snowballs were showing against the bushes and the back of the house, and when he followed the sound of breathless laughter, he found his daughter and Ned behind an enormous pine tree. For the second before they were unobserved, Carson saw his daughter reach up and tug Ned's collar so that he bent to her, and then she kissed him, softly, and there were stars in her eyes when she pulled back.

Carson smiled, then took a huge step back, silently, until he was out of their sight. "Lunch," he said, coming back around, and they had clearly just sprung apart, but he gave no sign he knew any differently. "Nancy, you weren't tormenting our guest, were you?"

There were still snowflakes in Ned's hair, dusted over his shoulders, caught against the frayed ends of Nancy's scarf. She looked at him guiltily. "Well, he started it," she protested, still laughing.

"Come on inside so you can warm up."

After lunch, which Ned praised effusively, Carson built a fire and the three of them sat on the couch, listening to the flames crackle while Ned passed out the presents. "It's just a little something," he told them. "From my parents."

Nancy eyed him curiously, but didn't say anything, watching as Hannah unwrapped a blank recipe book, and her father a gift card to his favorite restaurant. "Well, your parents certainly have good taste," Carson laughed, in pleasant surprise. "Thank you."

"Thanks," Nancy chimed in, opening her box to find a beautiful blue sweater, the same shade as her eyes.

"I helped Mom pick it out," he murmured to her. "Well, she showed me two sweaters and I picked that one."

"It's lovely," she told him, wrapping her arm around him for a hug.

--

She and Hannah had picked out a gift card to the same restaurant, for Ned's father, which made him laugh heartily. "Thanks," he told Nancy, after dinner, when they were all sitting in the living room. "This is great."

Near the top of their tree, Nancy saw a shining ornament nestled between the paper candy canes and pipe-cleaner snowflakes, gleaming gold among the branches. She felt Ned's fingers, warm on hers. She'd never been intimidated by Ned's parents; she felt a little nervous, hoping that Edith would like her present as much, but Ned was relaxed and calm now, his arm resting easily over her shoulders. His Mom and Dad, colored lights on the tree, and the most amazing gingerbread cookies she'd ever tasted.

She was warm, and happy, and once Edith's face lit up at the gloves, the only thing Nancy dreaded was leaving Ned at the end of the night.

When his mother was clearing the teacups and cookie crumbs from the table, Ned took Nancy's hand and pulled her out onto the back porch. "I have something for you," he explained.

"I have something for you too," she said, reaching into her coat pocket. "I just... didn't want to give it to you in front of everyone."

"Me too," he admitted, then handed her a slender box. "Merry Christmas, Nan."

"Merry Christmas, Ned."

They stood close together, their breath making clouds in the cold dark air, and she shot a split-second glance over at Ned, smiling at the glow in his eyes. He sprayed on the cologne and took a deep breath, then smiled.

"This is perfect, Nan."

"I'm glad you like it," she said, relieved, and closed her eyes when he hugged her. "You smell nice."

"I'd better," he teased her when he pulled back, then nodded down at the gift, still resting in her hands. "Open it."

In the box she found a wide-linked charm bracelet with a single charm, a wide silver heart. Her initials were written in scroll in the middle of the heart.

"Ned, it's beautiful."

He grinned. "I'm glad you like it," he said, and laughed. "Here, I'll help you put it on."

In the pale silver-white of the moonlight she looked down at the bracelet, gleaming around her wrist, then up at Ned. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his chest. "You're great," she told him.

"You're not so bad yourself, Drew," he said, smiling at her when she pulled back. "And... I didn't tell you why I brought you out here."

"To give me my present," she said, curious.

Ned glanced up. "Well... every year, my parents put a little bit of mistletoe on the back porch..."

Nancy followed his gaze up, over her head. "And look, we just happened to find ourselves underneath it," she laughed softly, her eyes dancing. "Whatever will we do."

"I can think of something," Ned said, leaning down, and Nancy closed her eyes when she felt his lips touch hers. When he pulled back, she was dazed, unsteady on her feet.

"Wow," she said softly. "We'll have to keep that tradition, for all our Christmases."

He brushed the tip of his nose against hers. "For all our Christmases," he agreed.