A month had passed since Ned's graduation ceremonies at Emerson College. Nancy, her father, Hannah, Bess, and George had all been in attendance, along with Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson, heartily congratulating Ned, Burt, and Dave on their accomplishments—but especially Ned. He had been offered and accepted a position with a thriving chemical firm in Chicago, and his smile couldn't have been happier. Once the ceremony was over, when he was still wearing his cap and gown, he came over to the crowd of his guests and greeted each one of them in turn. He saved Nancy for last, and she was a little surprised when he embraced her hard, lifting her a few inches off the ground. She had been a little flushed, but pleased by the gesture.

While his last semester at Emerson had been a busy one, as he lined up job interviews and finished his senior projects, he and Nancy had made time to talk to each other as often as they could, between his schoolwork and her mysteries and assignments. The topic of marriage hadn't been the only one they had discussed, but they had talked about it many times, and his conviction hadn't wavered. He was willing to listen to her fears and doubts, and answer them with his own. As far as he was concerned, their being married would mean their having a house together, spending time together when they weren't at work, and helping each other in any way they could—and he wasn't discounting himself from that responsibility. Just because he had a good job, he had told her, that didn't mean he didn't want to help her with her investigations whenever he could.

"And children?" she had asked, hesitantly.

"We are still young," he had pointed out. "And on that point, I do believe you said you would like to wait. I can agree to that, as long as you keep the possibility on the table. I'm not saying I expect a bouncing baby boy on my knee within a year of our marriage, but I also would hate to never have a child of our own."

Nancy had considered for a moment. "That's fair," she had told him quietly.

"So you are not entirely unwilling to even contemplate motherhood?" She could hear that faint humorous tone in his voice again.

"I am unwilling to contemplate motherhood alone," she had replied firmly.

"Nor would I ever have expected you to, darling."

A part of her had felt almost cruel for doing so, but she had brought up each of her fears with him. What if his parents were displeased, their expectations dashed, were they to see Ned in such an unconventional household? What if, despite all his assurances to the contrary, he did find that he was unhappy that Nancy most likely wouldn't have the time to keep house for him?

"First off, Miss Drew, I am contemplating marriage to you, not my parents," he had replied. "If either of us find we're unhappy with the arrangement—and while I think you are highly intelligent, and I have occasional flashes of brilliance myself, neither of us is infallible, nor have we ever been married before to know what it's like—then we will find some other arrangement that works for us. Because I wish to be yours exclusively, and you mine." His voice had gone a little deeper. "On that particular point I will not budge. Many perfectly fine women make their living as housekeepers, and we shall find one of them. There's only one Nancy Drew in this world, on the other hand, and I do not intend to see her get away. Not without a fight."

Nancy had sighed, a touch overdramatically. "Well, my dear, since I sincerely doubt I will ever find a man so very accommodating..."

"Not to mention handsome."

"Or brave, or resourceful..."

"Oh, stop. You're embarrassing me."

Nancy had grinned, aware that he could not see it over the telephone. "I suppose I can accede to that one point."

One tiny, infinitesimal, minor fact remained, however. While they had discussed marriage, Ned had not yet asked her formally to marry him, nor had she agreed. She wondered if he was taking the fact as given, understood... but it was unlike him to leave such a thing in any doubt. As he had told her, their relationship had remained undefined for so very long because he feared putting a name to it would upset or frighten her.

Even so, she was no longer sure what he was to her. Her presumptive fiancé? Her boy friend?

A few days earlier, Nancy's father had let it slip that he and Ned had spoken. Despite Nancy's best efforts, he had clammed up about it immediately, saying that whatever they had discussed had been between the two of them, and none of her concern. Even so, his eyes had sparkled with mischief, tinged with something Nancy had been unable to identify.

That Saturday, Nancy heard a knock on her bedroom door, as she was just giving her reflection one last glance. Her vanity had been cluttered with the powder compacts and lipstick tubes she had sorted through in her preparations, and she was just organizing it again. "Come in," she called.

Nancy's father opened the door and stepped inside, slipping his hands into his pockets. He had actually taken the day to play a round of golf with some of his good friends instead of spending time at the office, and he was still dressed for it, in a short-sleeved collared top and slacks. Nancy's heart, as it always did, rose a little in affection when she saw her father. He was a distinguished, intelligent man, and she loved him deeply. "I hope Mr. McPherson has been treating you well," he said.

Nancy's work at the newspaper had not been what she had expected, but she had not been entirely surprised by her initial disappointment. Mr. McPherson, the editor, had started out assigning her society events, puff pieces, which he said would help her acclimate herself to reporting in a less stressful environment than the crime stories she wished to ultimately cover. He had been incredibly patronizing, and Nancy had smiled and agreed. If he wished for her to acclimate herself, she fully intended to do so.

Through the connections she had made at those same society events she had been expected to breathlessly recount for the newspaper's like-minded readership, Nancy had discovered that some of the city's most affluent households had been targeted for burglary by a gang of resourceful, intelligent thieves—and she, through careful investigation, had both recovered the stolen merchandise and brought the thieves to justice.

Mr. McPherson had been far, far less patronizing after that particular story had crossed his desk.

While the exciting part for her was always the investigation, her writing flowed more smoothly now, and required fewer passes from the copyeditor. Since she often worked on her assignments when the rest of the household was in bed, Hannah had insisted that Nancy's typewriter be installed in the usually vacant downstairs sitting room, where she could have plenty of space for her files, typewriter ribbons and notes, without the clatter waking her father and Hannah at three o'clock in the morning. Her father was indulgent of his only daughter the majority of the time, but the first time she had been at the newspaper office until two o'clock in the morning working on a story, he had insisted that she not stay at the office past eleven o'clock, and she had agreed, if grudgingly.

Nancy had spent Saturday morning at a recognition ceremony in the city. A young firefighter had been singled out for his heroic actions during a house fire the month before, and Nancy had already finished her first draft of the brief biographical interview Mr. McPherson expected her to turn in Monday morning. On the way back to River Heights, though, she had stopped by a police station in Chicago, and had been gratified when the officers she asked for tips had taken her seriously. Her work on the burglary case in particular had impressed many of them, who initially dismissed her as a pretty, inquisitive anomaly.

"He is, most of the time," Nancy said with a smile. Mr. McPherson had joked that he should always keep her on the society news, if she could do so much with so little. Any hack could make a crime story exciting. It took talent to turn a gala fundraiser into front-page above-the-fold fodder.

"And Ned is escorting you somewhere tonight?"

Nancy nodded, looking down at her gown. During a recent shopping expedition, Bess had insisted that Nancy buy one of the new Mondrian-patterned dresses, but for tonight, she had selected something a little more classic. She wore a sleeveless sheath made of green silk, and had paired the dress with a pearl necklace and pearl earrings. The Mondrian dress was stylish, of that Nancy had no doubt, but she hated that it made her look less mature, more frivolous. She needed to be taken seriously for her job, and white go-go boots felt the opposite. "Our destination is a surprise, though, so I can only hope that I'm dressed appropriately."

"I'm sure you are. You look very lovely tonight, my dear."

Nancy smiled at her father. "Thank you."

Carson returned her smile, his own a little bittersweet. "You know that I love you very much," he said. "When you decided to pursue this career, I did hope that you would find it a good fit, and I think that you have."

She nodded. "Very much so."

"And you understand that, no matter what, no matter what path you choose, I will support you, Nancy."

"Unless it involves being at the Sun building after eleven o'clock," she teased him, but let her smile drop. "Yes, I understand. And I'm grateful."

He nodded. "You're growing up," he said softly. "Into such a beautiful and strong young woman. And yet, when I look at you, sometimes it feels like just yesterday you were a baby in my arms, a six-year-old in pigtails going to her first day of school..." He shook his head. "I forget that there will ever come a day that I will have to let you go."

Nancy crossed to her father and embraced him fiercely. "You need never do that," she told him firmly. "I will always be your little girl."

"Until the day you choose to become a wife," he said, patting her back. "If you choose—and you need not make that choice unless it is your wish to do so. If you decide to stay here for the rest of your life, I would be pleased to have you here... but ever since you solved your first mystery, I could see that River Heights would not be enough for my Nancy. You need to stretch your wings, dear, and I have been so proud of all the work you've done, all the help you've given those who needed it."

Nancy took a small step back, smiling at her father. "It pleases me more than I can say, to know you're proud of me," she admitted. "In you, I've always had such an amazing example, and I can only try to be like you."

"Then I hope you might find someone who makes you as happy as your mother made me," he said, quietly. "If you have not already."

Nancy colored faintly, but didn't answer her father directly. "I hope so too," she said.

"And no matter what choices you make or where you go from here, know that I'm always here for you. Hannah, too."

Her father's words were still ringing in Nancy's ears when she came downstairs, ready for Ned to pick her up for their date. He hadn't said it, but she had heard it; if she decided to marry Ned, he would be happy for her, but if she decided not to, he wouldn't pressure her into making that decision.

Maybe she and Ned had grown accustomed to discussing their life together as though it was a foregone conclusion, but it wasn't. It didn't have to be.

She really was lucky, Nancy reflected. Bess's parents were happy when she brought promising young men home, and George's parents had been known to set her up on dates with sons of their friends. Nancy's father had never interfered in her love life—or interfered with much of anything.

Her father was in the kitchen, talking to Hannah about plans their housekeeper had for the garden, when Nancy entered, her small clutch purse in her hands, her lips pressed firmly together. "Dad," she said quietly.

"Yes, dear?"

Nancy took a deep breath. "Were Ned and I to... to decide to marry, would we have your blessing?"

"Nancy..."

"I know it's my decision," she added, as Hannah Gruen brought her hand to her mouth, delighted tears rising in her brown eyes. "I understand that. But your opinion of him is important to me."

"He's a good man," Carson said, a faint smile on his face. "And from the moment I talked to him, I could tell that his fondest wish in this life is to make you happy. If he asks..." Some small shift in her father's expression told Nancy for sure that Ned had already discussed it with him. "And you accept, then yes, you will have my blessing. Fully and unequivocally."

Nancy was just crossing the kitchen to embrace her father when Hannah exclaimed, "Oh, Nancy. That boy's only had eyes for you since the moment you met."

When the doorbell rang, the three of them glanced at each other, their eyes shining. "I'll get it," Hannah announced, dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her apron. "Likely to scare the poor boy off, going on like this..."

Carson patted Nancy's back. "And, clearly, you will have Hannah's full blessing as well... which, if I am not mistaken, carries no small significance."

Nancy gave her father a small grin. "And I'm sure Ned would be pleased to hear it. One of his primary joys in life is Hannah's double chocolate cake."

In the moment before Hannah announced Ned's arrival, Carson patted his daughter's arm. "I will never be convinced that anyone is good enough for you, my dear," he said. "But I also think the man in the next room will never give up trying to be."

"Welcome to the Sun, may I direct you?"

"No thanks," Ned replied to the receptionist with a smile, raising the paper bag in his hand in greeting. "I know exactly where I'm going. Third floor, fifth desk on the right."

At least, Ned was hoping that the desk would be occupied when he found it.

Despite the hour, the bullpen on the third floor was still half-full. He could hear keys striking the page with vehemence, murmured and rapid conversations, the occasional groan of frustration. The building was permeated by the strange, heady aroma of ink and stale coffee.

But there she was, idly tapping a pencil on the surface of her desk as she cast a fierce glare at her telephone. The engagement ring he had placed on her finger nearly a year before sparkled as she swung the eraser back up, just to send it swooping back down with a swipe of her thumb. She looked tired and somewhat irritated, her pretty mouth turned down in a small frown.

"Hello, gorgeous."

The change in Nancy's expression when she heard Ned's voice was immediate. "Ned!" she exclaimed, a surprised, delighted grin on her face as she dropped the pencil and vaulted out of her chair. He closed the distance between them, wrapping her in a one-armed hug as she embraced him. "What are you doing here?"

He lifted the paper bag in his other hand again. "Thought you could use some dinner."

"Oh... oh, you are so incredibly thoughtful," she said, kissing his cheek. "I wasn't going to be able to leave until this source called me, and I'm famished."

Ned took a seat beside her desk as she vanished around a corner, returning a moment later with napkins and bottles of soda. "How was work?"

"Good," he replied, dividing the food between them. He had picked up three cheeseburgers and a large order of fries, and her eyes lit up when she saw the crispy, perfectly golden potatoes on the plate. Immediately she picked one up, sighing in delight as she took a bite. "And yours?"

Nancy shrugged. "Good," she replied. "Better, now."

Ned had never thought Nancy was the kind of girl to shy away from any challenge, and reporting had definitely been a challenge. She worked incredibly hard at it, too. Some nights, if she was working on an especially big story, it took a good ten minutes of cajoling, plus a few kisses, to convince her to take a break for long enough to have a meal with him. He treasured the occasional weekend she was actually able to take off work, without a case or a mystery to claim her time and attention.

"So, plumbing this weekend?" Nancy asked, picking up a napkin so she could wipe the grease from her fingers. She had already finished half her cheeseburger.

Ned nodded, swallowing his own bite. "Should be finished up by tomorrow night. Then we'll hang drywall and paint, and everything will be ahead of schedule."

Ned, when he had been considering options for where to live in the city, had discovered a small house in a quiet, pleasant neighborhood a short drive from his workplace. The lot around it was of a decent size, although the interior needed some repair. The price had been excellent.

After Nancy had accepted his proposal of marriage, Ned had driven her out to it one Saturday, and they had walked through all the rooms. The kitchen was small and cramped; Ned had imagined aloud taking it out completely, expanding the living room area, adding on a large room in the space currently occupied by a large rickety porch, putting in a new kitchen and a second bathroom.

"That sounds like a lot of work," she had admitted frankly, turning to face him.

Ned had shrugged. "My grandfather's a carpenter," he pointed out. "My other grandfather has done renovation work like this on their house, and it looks amazing. It will take time, but I consider it an investment... and I want it to be a home we can both enjoy."

"And then, once it's finished..."

"Once it's finished I'll carry you over the threshold," Ned had told her, and had been gratified to see her color slightly in response. "If you say the word, I'll speak to the realtor. Or we can keep looking. Would you rather we find somewhere a bit more modern?"

Nancy had considered for a moment, then shook her head. "No," she said softly. "I like the idea of our making a home. This is a very pretty neighborhood, and very convenient to both your work and mine."

"So, yes?"

She had nodded, and Ned had scooped her up, embracing her. "With one condition," she had told him. "Make sure the new room has big windows."

"Of reinforced glass, no doubt."

The renovations were going smoothly, for the most part, and Ned was pleased with the progress. Nancy, with Hannah's assistance, had selected the fixtures for the kitchen, and the second bathroom would be finished soon. The renovations to the kitchen area had allowed Ned to put a small alcove in the living room, to accommodate Nancy's typewriting desk and files, all that she would need to work from home.

Ned's favorite room, however, had to be the large, airy one he and his grandfathers had built at the back of the house—and Nancy had helped too, when she could, ably wielding a hammer, her blue eyes intent as she had listened to Ned's grandfather explain how he was setting up the wiring. Ned had always loved how curious Nancy was, about practically everything; he had never seen her pass up some new knowledge, if she could help it. Just as she had asked, the new room had large windows, which let in plenty of the afternoon light.

He couldn't wait for the work to be finally finished, to walk into their home without plastic sheeting flapping or tools scattered across the kitchen table. He couldn't wait to take her through the rooms and show her the home he had helped build for her.

He couldn't wait to cross the threshold with her in his arms, to carry her to the bedroom, as his new bride.

Ned took his time with the meal, and soon he and Nancy were discussing her current story, going over theories and possible angles. Being able to share her work with her like this exhilarated Ned in a way that his actual job didn't; while he had found the chemical firm a great employer and had never regretted accepting their offer, nothing there could quite top sharing the excitement he could see in Nancy's bright eyes, or the satisfaction he felt when they struck upon some new theory or solution.

Once their dinner was finished, he bid her a reluctant goodbye, disappointed that the call she was expecting had not come while they were eating. She was clearly tired and ready to go home, too; in a few months, she would be able to drive to their home instead of her father's after work every night. Just a few short months.

Their engagement had been long enough already for Bess to accept Dave's proposal of marriage, plan their wedding, and actually go through with the ceremony. The newly united Mr. and Mrs. Dave Evans had settled into a home not terribly far from the one Ned had bought, and Dave never failed to tease Ned about dragging his feet on actually marrying Nancy.

But Ned didn't mind. She had accepted his proposal, and he was already quite sure that his heart belonged entirely to her. Their relationship had always moved slowly, and at least, unlike some other unlucky men he knew, he was not rushing into this with his eyes closed. Once their house was ready, they would be married, in a small, intimate ceremony at his parents' church. She had not wanted a large, lavish wedding, and he had agreed with her; only their families and close friends would be invited. At the reception after, they would greet all their friends from Emerson and work acquaintances, before heading off for their honeymoon.

While Ned was very much looking forward to their wedding, it was the time they would have together afterward—alone on their honeymoon, and after, in their home—that he anticipated even more.

Feeling restless once he arrived at the house, Ned decided to get a head start on the next day's tasks, and changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He listened to the radio as he worked, paying close attention to every nail, screw, and bit of insulation he handled. He was working on their home, for her, and he wanted it to be perfect.

He was just standing up to stretch when he heard a knock at the door. Hoping against hope that it might be his fiancée, he crossed the living room to answer it—and was delighted to find Nancy was standing there. The stormy look on her face, however, had put her pretty mouth into a pout.

"Nancy?"

She looked up at him, her brow clearing. "I know it's late, but I saw the light was on," she said. "Is it... do you mind if I come in?"

Ned stepped back, gesturing for her to enter. "You're always welcome, sweetheart."

She gave him a smile as he dusted his hands on his jeans, then took her coat for her. She stepped out of the heels she customarily wore to work, sighing as she wiggled her toes.

"Bad news?"

"That—? Oh, no. No bad news. The source finally called, and I was able to file the story." She took the last few steps to the couch and flopped down onto it with a sigh. "No, it's Janice. The receptionist? I'm sure you saw her on the way in."

Ned nodded. "She's new, isn't she? Do you want a drink?"

Nancy nodded. "Yes, please. Thank you," she called, as Ned went to the kitchen to draw her a glass of water. "Anyway, when I was on the way out, she asked me who you were, and she didn't believe me when I said you were my fiancé. Then she asked when the wedding was, and when I told her August, she said," Nancy took a deep breath, "that I sure was working hard, for it being my last few months at the newspaper."

"What—" Ned began.

"Because of course I was going to quit as soon as I was married!" Nancy burst out, reaching for the glass of water, and took a quick sip. "There was no doubt in her mind! And I... oh! It just made me furious."

Ned sat down beside her and patted her shoulder. "I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it."

"But she did!" Nancy insisted. "She meant that any regular girl would be happy to just put her feet up the rest of her life and let her husband earn the money. Like I was crazy for working if you were making enough to support us both. And the way she said it! As though... ugh!"

Ned took the glass out of Nancy's hand after she took another sip, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry it upset you."

Nancy sniffed, looking down. "What upset me more was thinking that maybe she's right."

Ned pulled back a little, looking at her face. "What?"

"Not... not that I feel that way, because I don't, but that... that maybe you feel that way. I know what your mother said..."

Ned shook his head immediately. "Nancy, sweetheart, she... she wasn't trying to upset you."

Ned's mother had made the comment during one of the wedding showers a month earlier. When one of Ned's aunts had commented that Nancy indeed might work for a while, at least until their baby was born, Edith had agreed immediately. Everything would change, she had said knowingly, once Nancy and Ned had their first child. Working, after that...

And they had trailed off, and Nancy had overheard, flushing. Edith had already been surprised when Nancy had indicated she wanted to work at the newspaper even after their wedding. Even though Edith meant well, Nancy had still bristled a little.

Ned understood it, though, and while he wasn't entirely surprised by her next words, that didn't make them hurt any less.

"We can still call it off, you know."

Ned reached over and cupped her face in his large hands. "I have no intention of calling anything off," he said firmly.

"I just... I hate the idea that you feel that way too. That you're just afraid to tell me. Because I know I work a lot of hours, I know you wish we could spend more time together, and I wish that too, but... if we're married, and you start... resenting what we've said..."

Ned leaned down and stopped her with a kiss. "Stop," he murmured against her mouth. "I love you and I love that what you're doing makes you so happy. Happy most of the time, anyway. And maybe it's not very nice of me, maybe it's a little selfish, but when other guys say that their wives threw a great dinner party or redecorated the living room? I get to say that the woman I love just took down a crooked politician or helped show how deplorable conditions were in a badly-run factory. You're out there doing what so many other women would never even dare to do. And I love you for it, not in spite of it."

Nancy pulled back a little, her eyes shining as she gazed up at him. "Do you really?"

"Very much so," he said, kissing her again. "I am so proud of you, Nancy. My fiancée. My future wife."

She tipped her head up and kissed him back, and Ned couldn't deny that he loved when she took initiative and kissed him, when she ran her fingers through his thick hair, pressing herself tight against him. Their kiss deepened, growing more passionate, until Ned found himself tugging her onto his lap, hungry to feel her against him.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered, when their lips parted.

They had only spent the night together a few times, only since their engagement, and Ned wasn't expecting her to say yes. While they were able to lie to her father about where she was, thanks to Bess and Dave's conveniently located house, she had never felt fully comfortable with lying to Ned's soon-to-be father-in-law.

Nancy's blue eyes were hazed and she blinked slowly at him for a moment, then bit her lip, which was reddened from their kiss. "It is late," she said softly.

"It is," he agreed, cupping her face, stroking his thumb down her cheek.

She sighed, giving him a mock accusatory look as she nodded. "May I use your telephone?"

While she called home, telling Hannah that she was staying with Bess instead of making the trip back to River Heights at the late hour, Ned turned off the radio, put up his tools, and went back to the bedroom to make sure everything was in order. It had made sense for Nancy to keep a few things at the house, since it would soon belong to her as well; she had brought over a spare toothbrush and toiletries, a few outfits she could change into for work if she needed to do so.

They took their turns in the one functioning bathroom, and when Ned slipped under the covers, he wore an undershirt and underwear, to keep her from feeling uncomfortable. He had let her borrow one of his own t-shirts, and though she was careful to keep the lights off so he couldn't really see her in it, he loved that she was wearing it. She came to his bed with her long smooth legs bare, her hair loose, and dove under the covers, letting out a quiet giggle.

"This is okay?"

"Yes," she told him, moving to press against him, sighing contentedly as he embraced her. "Yes, very much so."

He stroked his hand up and down her back. "Feeling better?"

"Only if you're sure that you're okay. That you haven't changed your mind." Nancy reached up and swept a few strands of hair from her cheek.

"I definitely haven't."