"Oh, you're home."

Nancy walked into their kitchen, her hair falling in a tangle down her back, to find Bess sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal, distantly studying the back of her box of Special K. "Yeah," Nancy replied, smothering a yawn as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Sorry. I wasn't expecting it to take that long."

"You never do," Bess chastised her mildly. "You made the front of the paper."

Nancy groaned and pulled out a chair. "Below the fold?"

"Above," Bess said, almost gleefully. "Don't worry, the story's not actually about you."

Mayoral Candidate Murdered. Nancy reached over and turned the newspaper toward her, so she could read over it. The facts were few, speculation was rampant, and the reporter had dug into the ancient past that was five years ago to mention her name. She'd managed to foil another attempt on the candidate's life, but that one had been clearly telegraphed by threatening letters. This one...

"Hand me the phone?" Nancy asked, distracted, and Bess passed over the cordless handset before taking another bite of cereal. Nancy dialed the number from memory, checking for a jump tagline and finding none.

"Chicago Police Department."

"Can I speak to whoever's on lead for the McLachlan murder?"

Bess's eyes were sympathetic after Nancy hung up. "Miss it?"

"Miss what?" Nancy took a long sip of her coffee.

"What you used to do."

She shrugged. "I just needed to make sure the cops had tracked down her old campaign manager. It's a good lead."

"So you do miss it."

Nancy picked up a sugar packet and threw it at Bess, who caught it and laughed. "What did you think of that guy I ran into at the bar Saturday night," Bess said, then glanced sideways at Nancy.

"Kent? He seemed nice."

"Not that one. The one I picked up and then you laid claim to for the rest of the night."

Nancy burst into laughter, then went over to the coffeemaker again. "I didn't claim him... You been waiting the entire time I've been gone to ask me that?"

"Maybe," Bess replied. "I gave him my number."

"Well," Nancy said, and when Bess glanced at her she wasn't moving. "I thought you really liked that Kent guy."

"I do," Bess said, and stretched lazily, then unfolded her legs and brought her empty bowl to the sink to rinse it out. "What, you don't think Ned seemed nice? Be honest."

Nancy glanced away from Bess. "He seemed nice," Nancy mumbled.

"Good," Bess said. "Because he called, he has spare tickets to a concert, and we're going."

"There's no such thing as spare tickets to a concert," Nancy scoffed. "And... we meaning you and me?"

"He was already going with Kent, so yeah, you and me."

Nancy turned. "That sounds suspiciously like a double date."

"It would," Bess agreed. "If this wasn't your favorite band. And if I wasn't absolutely positive that Frank wasn't going to be able to make it this weekend."

Nancy groaned. "He called while I was gone."

"When are you not gone?" Bess returned. "But you have to go. Because, even though I am incredibly awesome, I'm gonna need to devote a lot of attention to Kent, so you need to keep Ned occupied. And I have complete faith in your ability to do that."

Nancy tried to back out three times that week, but she was the one who picked up when Ned called to finalize their plans on where to meet. She found herself tongue tied, only able to make a vague agreeing noise when Ned suggested seven o'clock at a bar a block down from the venue.

"Great," he said, his voice warm. "So we'll see you then."

Bess was sitting at the vanity in her room, her face already gorgeous, when Nancy came in to borrow a tube of lip gloss. Bess handed it over, but Nancy still lingered, her lips twisting into a smirk to avoid the smile that was threatening.

"It's not a date," she said firmly, and Bess agreed, but didn't meet her eyes.

Two hours later Nancy slipped into the booth, across from Ned and Kent, and the almost violent regret she'd been feeling began to fade when Ned gazed with unabashed appreciation at the riot of curls Bess had pinned up around Nancy's face, all the way down to the smooth glistening legs and impossibly high thin-strapped heels.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he breathed, and her heart skipped a beat when their eyes met again.