"Ruth? It's time to wake up."

Ruth, Nancy thought, and everything in her head was fuzzy. She blinked awake to see Addie's face above hers, in full sunlight. Addie looked better; her expression was still faintly pinched, like her headache hadn't entirely receded, but she was smiling.

Nancy hadn't gone to bed until the sky was faintly touched with the pale light of dawn. She had barely been able to stagger from the door, where Ned escorted her, to the bed where Addie was sleeping; her mouth had been dry from talking so much, her skin faintly damp with perspiration and warmed by his closeness. The night had felt endless, and like it had passed in only a few moments.

Ned Nickerson. His name was Ned Nickerson, and he was a prohibition agent. He worked for the government, had worked for them for the past six years; he was a handful of years older than she was, but her curious gaze had picked out old scars. He had worked in Washington and New York, and then he had been sent to Chicago to find out everything he could: to locate the suppliers and the sources for the speakeasies, all the people involved. If they found out who he was, they would kill him. She hadn't been wrong about him, after all.

And he had sworn her to absolute secrecy. She wasn't allowed to tell anyone.

And Nancy had told him who she was, how accurate he had been with his guesses. She told him that it was in her best interests for them to keep what she was doing secret, too; her father didn't know, and she definitely didn't want him in danger.

If I had been anyone else, beautiful, I promise you things wouldn't have ended like this.

But you weren't anyone else. You were the only one I trusted, and I didn't even understand why.

When she breathed in, she could still smell him, the scent of his breath and skin on her. It made her ache like nothing else.

Shay's planning something. We get in there and we put him away? Addie's safe. By the time he gets out, she's gone. But it will be dangerous.

Nancy hadn't even hesitated. What's the plan?

But Nancy couldn't tell Addie what she and Ned had discussed the night before; Addie didn't even know Nancy's true name.

As she and Addie dressed and prepared to go out, Nancy found herself longing for the convenience of her bathroom at home. But, she had to admit, she wouldn't have traded the excitement of her current task for a readily-available tub with hot and cold taps, or the everyday tasks she used to fill her time at home, going over menus and helping organize her father's social calendar. Bess had always been jealous that Nancy had the experience to run a household, that a man would doubtless see that as attractive. Nancy would have resented any man who saw that as a reason to court her.

Bess would definitely be scandalized if Nancy ever happened to mention what had passed between her and Ned the night before. In the light of day, his behavior with her had been incredibly inappropriate, presumptuous and... and like nothing she had ever experienced before. His fingers had twined with hers when he had been walking her back to the room she and Addie would share.

Even a few hours before, she had been afraid to have her body so close to his, and he had told her with a wry twist to his lips that he could definitely tell she had never been kissed that way before. She had been paralyzed by shock, passive and overwhelmed. If he took the opportunity to kiss her again, she promised herself, she wouldn't be so passive again.

Again... That began a train of thought Nancy didn't feel equal to following yet.

Part of Ned's plan was to make it obvious he had a crush on her. A few of Riscetti's crew had already commented on it, and when they saw him leave with her the night before, that had added credibility. He couldn't serve as Nancy and Addie's bodyguard without drawing attention to it, but he could escort them home. The next day, he called around and found another room not far from his apartment, and disguised himself with a borrowed truck and overalls to seem like a hired mover. The three of them made a game of it: ducking through crowded movie theaters and diners, finding alternate exits and paths through the city to get through undetected.

Ned thought they should be more vigilant. If Shay had found the apartment and sent two men to collect Addie, Ned didn't think that was a good sign, and Nancy had to agree with him. Staying close to his place gave them another place to run if something went wrong, and that was good. To keep the ruse up, though, Ned kept inviting Nancy to join him back at his apartment; Addie was very cautious about going home, and she thought that "Nicky's" flirtation with "Ruth" was cute, she just warned her to be careful.

But the flirtation wasn't just a front—at least, she didn't think it was. When he handed her four roses wrapped in ribbon after her performance one night, Nancy accepted them, searching his eyes to see warmth and a touch of humor there.

Ned's life depended on his fooling the people around them. She was just hoping that he hadn't decided the best way to take Riscetti's gang and Shay down involved duping her, too.

Ned heard stirrings that Shay had something planned for Saturday night. He returned to the speakeasy with Shay, Riscetti, and a few other members of the gang on Friday night; Shay took his usual seat in front of the stage, and looked like he wanted to bound up on stage at Addie. Only the fact that she was singing and in some form of public seemed to keep him at bay. Maybe McConnell didn't mind so much if Shay went after her backstage, but in front of everyone, it drew attention.

After Addie's set, Ned asked Nancy to dance, and Shay asked Addie. Addie glanced over at Nancy, who gave her an encouraging nod. They had talked about it, and for Ned, it was a calculated risk.

Ned drew Nancy close, and the way her body relaxed against his, swayed with his, wasn't feigned. "We have a—an errand, after this," he murmured, his lips close to her ear. To anyone else, it would look like he was whispering sweet nothings to her, but the feel of his breath against her earlobe made her shiver. "Can I take you out to dinner after, though? Can your friend—stay with Addie?"

Nancy nodded. George had planned on staying over anyway, even after Nancy had told her that she would be relegated to a cot; George was eager to have a person to fight, though. She had been outraged on Addie's behalf, and if Nancy could get her involved when she and Ned made their move, Nancy knew she would appreciate it. She hadn't quite figured out how that would work, though. Eating dinner with Ned would give them a chance to discuss it.

Nancy glanced over at Addie. She had relayed to Addie that if Shay planned something and invited her, they should go. Nancy hadn't been able to tell her that Ned was working for the good guys and could use anything they found there as evidence, but the worst part—for Nancy, anyway—was that Shay's obsession with Addie could be used to their advantage. If Addie could distract him or use his attraction to her to keep his attention elsewhere while she and Ned were looking for clues or evidence...

Nancy didn't like the idea of putting Addie in danger, but if George were there, she would feel better about it. Addie was tough, though. Otherwise Shay wouldn't have sent two bodyguards after her; otherwise, she would have been long gone when Nancy and Ned had brought Mr. Rains up to the apartment expecting the worst.

Then Ned kissed Nancy's earlobe, and though the brush of his lips was brief, she still felt glowingly self-conscious. She made a soft cautioning noise, but then he planted a firmer kiss on her neck just beneath her earlobe, and Nancy shivered.

"Mmm. That's right," he murmured.

"And what's so right about it?" she replied, her voice very quiet but still dripping with icy disdain.

Ned chuckled. "Acting like this isn't driving you crazy."

"If you mean driving me crazy in the sense that you... are most definitely taking advantage..." Nancy trailed off as he nuzzled against the side of her neck. "Sir, I'll have to ask you not to sample the merchandise before you purchase."

His chuckle this time was louder and appreciative. "So there is a price?"

"One you couldn't afford."

"True." He kissed the other side of her neck anyway. "And later tonight, when I romance you over candlelight, I trust you will look just as haughty and disgusted as you do right now, angel-face."

"I do not..."

His next kiss was brief and soft, but it was against her lips. "Don't worry, sweetheart, it fits. It works. I wouldn't be asking you for this if I thought you couldn't handle it."

She blinked once, slowly. "Do I really look haughty?"

He grinned at her, his dark eyes glowing with amusement. "Very much."

When she tried to arrange her features into a benevolent smile, he chuckled and kissed her again. "You're a dream," he told her. "Spun-gold hair, gorgeous blue eyes, creamy white skin and untouchable as ice. A princess whose hands have never been dirty. Do you know how tempting it is to put dirty hands all over that white skin, to smear that cherry-red lipstick and see you panting, wide-eyed and breathless..."

At his words she flushed again.

"Yes," he murmured. "Yes, exactly. You'll be fine."

Nancy, George, and Addie had made plans to meet down the block at an all-night diner. Ned told her that he would meet her there unless he was too late; then he would just come over to the new apartment she and Addie shared and pick her up, so they could go over their plans for the next day. Nancy had asked George to go by her house and pick up two dresses, and bring her own; Nancy could do some emergency tailoring and adjust one of her dresses for Addie in a pinch. She didn't want them to look out of place, since Ned was pretty sure Shay's event would involve a party.

Nancy was on her second glass of water, sitting in a booth with Addie and George and her face toward the door, when Ned walked in. He still wore his fedora, and his jacket was on, but he looked rumpled. Her gaze caught a smear of dust that hadn't been on his thigh before, and a trace of something dark at the cuff of his sleeve. Her eyes were wide when they rose to his face.

"George, this is Nicky," she introduced him to her friend. Although Nancy had told Ned that George was a girl, she could still see him readjust when he was introduced. He was generally smooth, but she could still catch him every now and then. "I'll be home after dinner, all right?"

Nancy began to slide out of the booth, but George did too. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

They went out onto the sidewalk. The city was still humming with activity, but the tone of it was different. Anyone on the street at this hour was looking for a good time, and many of them were heading for the same kind of place Nancy and Addie worked. A place to relax, to have fun and unwind.

You aren't for sale?

Nancy had just reached up to touch the brim of her hat when George turned to her, a concerned expression on her face. Nancy trusted George fully; she trusted her with her life and had several times before, and she hadn't had a chance to tell George about Ned. Above the fact that he had sworn her to secrecy, she had never known anyone like him, and a part of her, she had to admit, was enjoying the fact that they were keeping each other's secrets. He trusted her.

And Nancy could read the suspicion in George's face. "Nancy, are you sure about this? Do you want me to follow you there and make sure he doesn't do anything...?"

Nancy shook her head. "I'll be okay. It's more important for you to be with Addie; she needs someone with her."

"And you don't? He... he has a gun." George whispered the last word.

"I'll be fine," Nancy repeated. "I'll be back later. And if tomorrow night goes the way we think it might, we... we won't be around him much longer." Nancy hadn't realized that until she spoke the words, but it was true. She was helping Ned achieve his mission, and once his mission was over, he would be moving on. He would vanish effortlessly into another life, one she wasn't a part of.

That thought remained with her during dinner. Ned took her to a nice place, the kind with long white tablecloths and a floor show featuring sequined dancers; it was the kind of place McConnell only wished he had. They sat right next to each other in a corner booth, and spoke to each other only in whispers in case they were overheard. Every now and then he gave her a wide grin, maintaining the pretense that they were on a date; more rarely, she returned his grin with one of her own. When he slipped his arm around her waist, even though it was out of sight beneath the level of the table, she still pushed his arm away.

"Tell me 'later,'" he advised her. "With those cold blue eyes."

She pouted slightly. "They're not cold."

"Cold as ice," he corrected her. "Stare me down knowing full well that every man's eyes in this entire place are on you. They all wish they were the guy sitting next to you. And here you are, with me. If they breach during the party, Nan, promise me you'll get down and stay down. Things get crazy. If we get separated and they arrest you, don't give my name. I'll find you. Can you do that?"

She nodded. His pupils were dilated. He was serious; his voice was low and it sent a tremor down her spine.

"I mean it. I don't want you to get hurt."

She nodded. He slipped his arm around her waist again and when she touched his hand to shove it away, something in his dark eyes made her stop. He was more earnest than she had ever seen him.

"We need to go back to my place for a few hours. You game for that?"

Nancy swallowed. "Okay."

His lips touched her cheek. "Ever carried a gun, angel-face?"

She shook her head. "No. I wouldn't want to, either. If we're interrupted and they find me with a gun..."

"I could still get you out of it."

"Not if I'm dead."

He kissed the point of her jaw, and her lashes fluttered down a little. "I wouldn't want that."

"Me either."

He almost said something else, but when the waiter arrived, he slowly pulled away from her. He drew a well-loaded money clip out of his pocket, peeled off a few of the bills and glanced up to see the waiter's smile.

"Come on. Time for dessert."

Only once they were back at his apartment did she understand what he had meant. As soon as they walked in he began to take his jacket off, and she saw him wince. A few dark spots of dried blood showed on the fabric of his shirt, near his waist.

"Are you all right?"

He shrugged, in stark contrast to the sharp surprise and concern in her voice. "I'm fine," he said, his voice a little gruff. He unbuttoned his shirt, and while the sight of him in his underwear was no longer shocking, she still couldn't say that she was immune to it. A basin of water stood on a small table near the window; Nancy took a cloth, dunked it into the water and wrung it out, bringing it over to him.

Ned sat down at the foot of the bed dressed only in his underwear, and Nancy took the cloth and gently dabbed around the wound. To her eyes it appeared that a ring had grazed his flesh, cutting into it; what frightened her more were the marks made by the impact of a fist.

Ned put a hand on her shoulder, and she glanced up into his eyes, then back down at her work. His room was dim, lit only by the streetlamps below, and she turned him so she could get a better angle. She had never been so close to a man, never one as naked as him; she had never studied the way the light and skin gleamed over muscle like this.

Her heart was pounding so hard that she could feel her lips trembling faintly.

"What made you become an agent?" she asked as she gently ran the cloth over his skin.

"Mmm. I want to help. Didn't want to stay home on the farm." He made a soft noise. "They told me I could have been a lawyer. Could have been a boxer."

"Would've been a shame to see you with cauliflower ears and broken teeth."

"And I guess, looking at this—well, just know that the other guy didn't walk away like I did."

"And how could he?" Nancy pointed out, rising and rinsing the cloth again before bringing it back to him. "Because you're on the side of good."

"So are you."

"A lawyer, though?"

She heard the smile in his voice. "I've got a good memory and—well, I like rules. I like knowing where the line is, and which side of it I'm on. And that's why you made me so uneasy, angel-face."

She glanced up at him. "Me?"

"You didn't fit. Then again, I'm beginning to think that you're one of a kind."

She gave him a small smile. "Pretty sure you are, too."

He reached up and touched her cheek. "You make me want to..."

Without saying anything, she brought her gaze up to his and slowly stopped running the cloth against his side. The air in his room was so still; only the oscillating fan in the corner, rattling quietly to itself, stirred anything.

He reached up and touched the collar of her dress, and Nancy's heart rose in her throat so fast she thought she might choke. He brushed his fingertips against the knobs of her collarbone, tracing the hollow between; his lips were parted faintly, and the lingering ghost of cigarette smoke caught in their hair and in the folds of her dress swirled into cologne and sweat and her perfume. Nancy had never smoked in her life, but in the space of a heartbeat she knew that from then on, just a whiff of cigarette smoke would make her think of this, of him, of them this way. What was between them no one would understand; Nancy knew she didn't, but she didn't need to understand.

No time, he had murmured. And still, there was no time.

He let his hand drift down her arm, then sighed. "I'm sorry. I am. I guess we should talk about tomorrow."

Nancy nodded, but she was feeling uncomfortably warm. He was closer to naked than he was clothed, and she didn't think he felt the same way she did; for a brief, fleeting moment, she wondered what he would do if she so nonchalantly disrobed in front of him the way he did her—but she didn't have the nerve.

Ned told her everything he had found out about the event, which would be held at Shay's house, at the edge of a prosperous Chicago suburb Nancy had seen a few times. He told her that, just to maintain his cover identity, he might be arrested with everyone else, but he would be sure to get Nancy, Addie, and George out if they were caught with everyone else. He would be able to use Riscetti's panic over the arrest to pump him for information, and then move on to the next step in the chain. From some of what Riscetti had said, apparently Ned suspected that shipments were coming in from two sources over the Canadian border.

She knew their "date" needed to last a few hours, and that if they were watching his apartment, if they suspected either of them, they needed to hold out. Even so, their "date" had started late and Nancy was already tired. He asked if she had any suggestions, though, and Nancy was touched by the genuine interest in his eyes. She mused aloud that Shay had to have a list of contacts, which they might find useful and which he might ditch before the police were able to collect him. Addie would have the best chance to go through his clothes, but Nancy told Ned honestly that she was nervous about Addie's safety. She didn't want anything bad to happen to her.

"So you really think... you think Addie and Shay..."

Ned was on his back in the bed, his fingers joined behind his head, his bare chest on full display. "More likely than not," he told her.

Nancy swallowed before she slipped her feet out of her shoes. Just that mere concession to her own comfort felt like she was giving up something. Her garter clips were digging into the backs of her thighs.

"If I ask you to close your eyes, would you?"

"Maybe." He was smiling when she directed a withering glance at him. "Okay, okay. Yes."

Nancy stood, turning her back on him, but then she changed her mind and turned back to face him, to make sure he was really keeping his eyes closed. She blushed as she reached under her skirt and unfastened her garter belt, then began to slide her silk stockings down her legs.

And why is it fair? she asked herself. That he can be comfortable and I can't be.

"Ned?" she asked softly, as she picked up her stockings and the belt and draped them carefully over the table beside the window.

"Hmm?" He opened his eyes, then sat up a little.

"I... it's pretty warm in here..."

"It is," he agreed.

"Would you help me..." She turned, showing him the button fastening at the nape of her neck.

She heard the springs creak and then he touched the button, unfastening it, then the one beneath it. She wore a silk slip under her dress, so he still wasn't seeing bare skin, but it was still scandalous; no other man had ever seen her so close to naked. He reached down and began to pull her dress up, over her head, and she turned to take it from him and drape it over the table.

That teasing smile he had worn had entirely vanished when she looked up into his eyes again. She knew she was blushing. If anything, she felt warmer than she had when she had worn the dress.

His adam's apple bobbed slightly as he reached down, linking his index finger and thumb about her wrist, and she followed speechlessly as he guided her to his bed. The sheets smelled like him.

She was supposed to feel more comfortable, more relaxed. Instead she felt twice as solid as she usually did, and incredibly aware of his presence beside her. She turned onto her side and felt slightly less vulnerable, and that was good.

He looked over at her. "Better?"

"Not really," she admitted softly, her gaze locked to his.

"Anything I can do?"

She shook her head. "Thank you," she murmured.

"For what?"

"For not..." She shrugged a little.

"The night's not over yet."

"But I'll be going home soon," she murmured. Her eyelids felt so heavy.

"I won't," he murmured.

"Do you miss home?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes I do. But what I'm doing is more important."

"That's how I feel too," she murmured, and struggled to open her eyes again. "People—I know they mean well, but they keep asking when I'm going to settle down... like that's what has to happen. Like this is just another step and at the end of it, there's a house, children, putting dinner on the table every night..."

"And that's not what you want."

"Not now. Not yet."

She felt Ned's hand on her shoulder, and when he slipped the strap of her slip down, her heart rose again. Her brassiere strap was still snug against her skin, but he was dangerously close to revealing the lace cups. "I thought," he breathed, his fingertips tracing a circle against the point of her shoulder, "that if only things had been different... but I wouldn't have you any other way. Nancy."

"Any other way...?"

"We're dreaming," he murmured. "And tomorrow, we'll wake."

Then his lips touched her neck, and her fingers wrapped around his arm blindly in the dark, and she didn't let go.

Nancy didn't want it to end. She never wanted the mysteries she investigated to end; even though she felt a tremendous thrill when she apprehended a culprit or recovered a lost treasure, the letdown she felt afterward was tremendous. It felt a thousand times worse, that Saturday.

She was horrified to find that a part of her actually hoped that something minor would go wrong and Ned would have to stay. For just a few days, a week more, Nancy could lie and say Helen had extended their trip and spend some more time with him.

But the evening went better than Nancy had ever expected. Alterations on the dress George had chosen for Addie didn't take long, which was good, because Nancy knew she had slept—it just hadn't been for long. If it was the last night she was to spend with Ned, she had wanted to remember it.

George had asked what had happened to keep her away all night. Nancy had said she would tell her later, but she wasn't sure she ever would. Maybe George would forget. Nancy wouldn't. And if by some chance she did ever find herself in the darkness and silence of a marriage bed, she would do her best to put the tentative, trembling desire she had felt in Ned's arms out of her mind, but she wasn't sure she would succeed.

She had gone to his bed a virgin, and she remained one. When his hands had moved over her, he hadn't done what he had promised in that soft smirking voice while they were dancing. He hadn't taken her slip off, but oh, how warm his palms had felt through it. She had blushed, but no protest had risen to her lips. If he had gone too far, she would have stopped him—but a part of her wasn't completely sure, and he hadn't called her bluff.

Addie looked radiant in Nancy's peach silk dress, although she was still nervous. George wore a black frock, all the better to blend into the background. Nancy's dress was a soft teal with a filmy overlay, a bow in the back, and a trim silhouette; her skirt wasn't quite ankle-length. George had told her that the color brought out her eyes. Ned, when he first saw it, looked almost speechless.

He slipped his arm around her and kissed her in greeting. He looked perfectly groomed and incredibly handsome, and Nancy couldn't help hoping that George had seen him looking like this. Maybe she would understand. Maybe.

"You'll be careful."

Nancy nodded, setting her mind to the task at hand. Addie understood the plan as Nancy had roughly outlined it and was going along with it, but Nancy had been sure to tell her that it wasn't worth her life. She had only been able to tell Addie that if they were successful, they might be able to get rid of Shay for a long time.

Occasionally Ned had to leave her side, but for the rest of the time they were together. Ned knew most of the cars that Riscetti's gang and associates used; a few times, he went out to check the registrations on the cars he didn't recognize. Nancy eavesdropped; because the men viewed her as part of the hired entertainment, while they dropped their voices a bit when she approached, they didn't stop speaking entirely. Addie stayed near Shay, and when the room grew warm from occupancy, Addie offered to take his jacket; when she had offered to get him a drink, he had twined his arm possessively about her waist. Nancy knew Addie was uncomfortable about it, but she was bearing up well. And it wouldn't be for long.

Addie passed the jacket to Nancy, who hastily searched it before draping it over the back of a chair. She found three folded notes, which she passed to Ned the next time she saw him.

And the liquor was freely flowing, and as the guests' tongues loosed, Nancy threaded through the crowd with more frequency. Two trucks arrived with product; Nancy said she needed some fresh air and went out to take down their license numbers.

Whenever Ned passed close to her, whenever he was with her, his arm rested easily about her waist, and losing that contact made her heart drop every time. She couldn't help wondering when would be the last touch.

In the morning, before he had let her go, he had kissed her again, kissed and kissed her, and regardless of what he had told her, it hadn't been a dream. The previous night hadn't been a dream, and the memory of his lips against hers, his arms tight around her, that wasn't a dream either.

The air was thick with cigarette and cigar smoke, perfume and the pungent sting of liquor. Nancy didn't dare to pick up a drink. If the party was due to be busted up by agents at any moment, she didn't want to give them more reason to arrest her.

But if they let her go, and she never saw him again...

On their next pass, Nancy went in to check on Addie, who gestured her into the corner. "Here," she murmured, her eyes wide, and handed Nancy a small notebook in a battered black cover. Immediately Nancy took it to Ned, who was checking his watch.

Any moment. Any second.

And she didn't know what to say to him, or if there was anything she could.

The crunch of gravel sounded different, somehow. She heard no siren, no cry to alert her, but she knew, in that last handful of seconds. They had arrived. It was almost over.

Addie would be safe. That was what was most important. Addie would be safe, and she would be able to leave Chicago and she would be safely out of Shay's reach.

The agents surrounded the house and burst in simultaneously, shouting. Ned was near Nancy, and when he began to pull her down, Nancy did the same to George. "Stay down," he advised them both. His hand was warm on hers.

The agents were more focused on Shay and Riscetti's gang; one of them tried to run and Nancy could hear the shouting, the scuffle. Nancy was hauled to her feet and hustled out to a waiting car; she glanced back over her shoulder. George was okay, even if she was shaken. Ned would make sure Addie was okay.

In anticipation, Nancy hadn't brought any identification with her. She didn't want to have to call her father, but if they took her to a police station, the question of her identity would be cleared up soon enough, especially if she saw any officers she had met before.

And Ned.

Nancy swallowed hard, her gaze locked to the house, waiting to see him emerge. Angry men and red-faced women were being led out; on the lawn, a group of agents had started pouring out all the liquor they could find. She could see the glowing tips of their cigarettes as they gazed down at it.

Then the other car door opened, and Nancy glanced over. Ned was sliding in next to her.

"Oh, thank goodness. You're okay? Did you see Addie?"

Ned nodded. "She's all right. Her and George. I just... I just wanted to see you before I went in."

Nancy gazed directly into his eyes. They were alone in the car; apparently Nancy hadn't looked like a flight risk.

"You were amazing tonight."

Nancy gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

"I mean it."

Nancy nodded, waiting. She didn't know what else he wanted to say, only that he did.

Ned cleared his throat. "I think I told you, I'll still be... around. I just wanted you to know that you made a great partner. And it's a shame you won't be going with me."

Nancy took a slow trembling breath. "If I'm such a great partner, who says I can't?"

Ned paused, then let out a startled chuckle. "Good question."

"After all, there have been female Pinkertons, female spies... who ever said a woman couldn't be a prohibition agent? I think we four did a great job tonight."

Ned's eyes were alight when they looked into his. "Well, one of us in particular, anyway."

Nancy reached for his hand. "You said we were dreaming," she murmured. "If it's okay with you... I just don't want to wake up just yet."

"Me either," he murmured, moving closer to her. "Nancy... it would be dangerous, if they let you. It's hard work. Your life would be at risk all the time."

"But we'd be doing good," she replied, and he nodded. "So I would love every minute of it."

"And so would I," he murmured, leaning down until his lips were a hair's breadth from hers. "If it meant I could be by your side, angel-face."

"Always," she murmured, tipping her face up so her lips touched his.