"What the hell was that?"

The first thing Nancy did after walking into the apartment was drop into the armchair and take off her shoes. She closed her eyes in bliss, wiggling her toes, before she replied, "What are you even doing here?"

"I got the first flight I could," Frank replied, letting his duffel bag fall to the floor with a bang. "I wanted to surprise you. Which was a bad idea, since I really wasn't expecting to see my f--"

Nancy had been sitting in the armchair with her head tilted back and her feet propped up on the coffee table. In one quick smooth movement she stood, her eyes blazing. "You had better be about to say any other word but--"

"Fiancée," he finished defiantly.

Nancy stood for a long moment, seething. "We have talked about this," she said. "I am not even going to think about it until we live in the same fucking state, and I'm not moving."

"So I'm the one who has to move?"

"You can't exactly cleave to me from four states away, asshole," Nancy said, picking her shoes up and shoving past him.

"You know," Frank began, then went quiet as a key scratched in the lock, just before Bess and George walked in. "Hi, guys."

Bess opened her mouth, then thought better of it. "Hi Frank," she said. "Didn't know you were coming for a visit. I'm just gonna get a glass of water and go to bed."

Nancy stomped back into the living room in flannel pants and a tank top as George smiled at Frank and sidled by him. "I know what?" Nancy demanded.

"'Night, you guys," George called as she went down the hall to her room.

"They're going to bed? Were you out all night?"

"Yes, we were," Nancy said, settling back into the armchair and tucking her feet under her. "All five of us. You want me to dig up Kent's phone number and hand that over so you can yell at him some too?"

Frank sat down on the couch with his elbows on his knees, his jaw clenched. "Only if you were looking as cozy with him as you were with whoever that guy was downstairs."

"No, but Bess was. Maybe if you yell a little louder we can keep her awake too."

Frank stared at the blank television set for a long moment. "What's going on," he said softly. "I mean, I thought... after Sasha, and Mick, and Peter, and... God, I can't even remember all their names. I thought we were past that."

"You know what? Frank, you don't even know all their names," Nancy said, and when she turned to look at him, her eyes were gleaming. "You know why? Because you were never fucking around. I can practically find a guy anywhere I go who treats me better than you do."

"How the hell do I treat you badly?" He stood up. "How the fuck can I be treating you badly when I find you doing this? I mean, Nancy, if you had any respect or dignity, if you honored the commitment we made to each other--"

"What commitment?" Nancy stood, spreading her palms wide. "I'm sorry, I see you so rarely I can hardly remember what you look like, and-- Frank, son of a bitch, you've been committed to your job since day one."

"And you aren't?" Frank was nearly shouting, but he stopped and shook his head. "Are we even... Nan, look, I've told you that this isn't about my father, or your father, or living in Chicago or Bayport."

"It isn't." Nancy sat back down, this time on the arm of the chair.

He hung his head. "You're still mad about the camping trip."

Nancy made an incredulous noise. "I'm mad about the camping trip. I'm mad about the hiking trip. I'm mad about the trip to the beach, and the weekend we were going to spend together for your birthday, and when you missed my birthday, and that other time you missed my birthday, and you 'forgetting' to invite me to your July fourth party the year we were eighteen, and the fact that I have never in my entire life, in our entire relationship, felt like you were ever paying attention to me. Just me."

By the end of it she was nearly screaming, and when she broke off she gasped for breath, her face red, her hands clenched in fists.

"Nancy--"

"And don't," she interrupted him, "talk to me about honor, or respect, or dignity. You don't own me. You're my boyfriend, not my keeper. Not my husband."

"But that's the way I see you," he said quietly. "I see you... and I know that someday, we'll be married, and I won't have to worry about something like whatever that was, down in the street just now, happening ever again."

Her eyes flashed. "So that's what marriage is to you. A way to keep me reeled in."

He reached out and touched her arm, and his jaw set when she flinched away from him. "Now you're just trying to start a fight."

He touched her arm again, more firmly, and he saw her face soften. Then she ran her hand through her hair.

"Frank, why are you here," she repeated softly, her eyes closed.

"Because I wanted to make it up to you." He stepped closer to her, his hand still lingering on her arm.

She tilted her head back and opened her eyes again, searched his, before she stepped back, out of his armspan. "You know what I've finally realized," she said. "That you'll never be able to make it up to me. Not all of it. And not for the rest of your lives, of our lives. Frank."

He tilted his head. "What are you saying."

"That I don't think it's enough anymore," she said. "To remember how much fun we used to have when we were children, when we were teenagers, before college, before our lives started... I need to know that what we have now, that what we could have..." She pulled her fingers through her hair again and shook her head. "But I won't," she muttered.

"Nan, we do have fun together."

She smiled up at him, but it held no humor. "Oh, we do," she said. "We would. If you knew how to surgically remove your cell phone from your ear, I'm sure we could have a lot of fun."

Frank shrugged. "So we go away," he said. "I turn the cell phone off and we go away for the weekend."

"I'll play your game," she said, crossing her arms. "Leave the cell phone here."

He laughed, incredulous. "But what if we need a cell phone, what if there's an emergency?"

"It's Chicago. We don't need a cell phone." When Frank's stricken look didn't fade, Nancy hung her head in resignation. "See."

"Nan, my wanting to keep you safe doesn't mean..."

"Doesn't mean what," Nancy said, her voice infinitely tired. "That you give a damn? Look, Frank... go downtown, get yourself a hotel room... I'm gonna get some sleep."

"And what?"

"What do you mean, and what?" Nancy asked. "I can't... I can't think about this right now. I need some sleep, and to cool off, and... just go get a room."

Frank gave her a long look before he reached down and slowly picked up his duffel. "And then we'll talk."

Nancy waved her hand dismissively and walked at the door, waiting until he began his approach before unbolting and opening it. He leaned down, his lips resting just above her cheek, but she made no effort to meet him, so he kissed her and sighed before he walked out.

Bess stopped feigning sleep when Nancy walked into her room and sat on the edge of her bed. "That didn't sound good."

Nancy sighed. "Am I being an idiot?"

Bess sat up and propped her pillows up behind her. "About what."

"Maybe I'm being too hard on Frank."

"For which thing?" Bess asked, her lips curling up in a sardonic smile. "Seemed like you were yelling at him about plenty."

"He called me his fiancée."

Bess's eyes widened. "I thought you turned him down."

"I did."

"Why?"

Nancy shook her head. "I've been with him for... God, almost ten years now. We work so well together, and I love him, and he loves me, and it's the logical next step."

"But you aren't willing to take it." Bess had her knees bent under the covers and had wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees. The expression on her face was bright, almost cheerful. Part of the reason Nancy liked coming to Bess to discuss her problems was Bess's obvious relish in playing the role of therapist.

"So am I being an idiot?"

"Maybe it's not the next logical step," Bess pointed out. "It's not like you've been... entirely... I mean, Nancy, I've seen the way you act with other guys."

Nancy blushed faintly. "I know," she said. "But he's busy practically all the time now... and that's no excuse, I know. But it's been ten years. He still lives in Bayport, and I still live in Chicago, and I'm not going to move. I love my job. And he loves his."

"You could transfer," Bess pointed out, and shrugged. "Not that I'm gonna push you into anything. But, surely you could find a job like yours..."

Nancy laughed. "There is no job like mine, Bess," she said. "And no. I don't want to transfer, and I'm not going to."

"Then you don't want to marry Frank."

"Practically since we were kids, I thought..." Nancy shook her head. "I thought it would be us, and we'd set up an agency together, have two kids and grow old together."

"But you're here and he's there, and didn't you tell me that he wanted you to move to Bayport right after we all graduated, and do something like that? Start an agency?"

"But I'd already taken the job..."

Bess rolled her eyes. "And you were in training. It wasn't like you'd really started."

Nancy sat up, staring at the wall, her eyes wide. "Is it possible that I really don't... want to do this? I've been unhappy before, but it's never been a question, it's always been... I've always known that I'd be with him. Just known. Never questioned it. I might like other guys, but never enough to break up with Frank..."

When Nancy didn't continue, Bess tilted her head. "Until now?" she said softly.

Nancy looked up. "Oooh, no. No. Not like that. I'm not-- I'm not gonna break up with Frank just to..."

"Maybe not for another guy," Bess said. She stretched out her fingers, counting them. "Maybe for another guy, and because Frank isn't around, and your relationship isn't going anywhere, and it doesn't make any sense to continue with it, and have you seen Ned with his shirt off?"

Nancy's mouth fell open. "What?"

"I know, I haven't either, but don't you think he'd look good?"

Nancy chuckled. "Aren't you supposed to be thinking about Kent that way?"

"Hey, I'm not the one with a boyfriend," Bess replied, pretending to buff her nails. "I'm a free agent. You, on the other hand... have some choices to make."

Nancy sighed. "I know," she replied, groaning. "Thanks, Bess."

"Anytime."

After fifteen minutes of trying to make herself sleep, Nancy sat up. The hangover, the adrenaline from their fight, her conversation with Bess, all together, her head was swimming, and when she reached for the phone, she already knew his number by heart.

"You should have let me kiss you earlier."

"Oh?" Nancy replied, bemused. "And why is that?"

"It would have changed your life."

Nancy laughed. "Sure would have," she said. "I'd be single right now."

Ned snapped his fingers in regret, and despite the troubling issues Bess's therapy session and her own conversation were raising, Nancy smiled at the sound of it.

"It would have," he insisted. "I know it would have changed mine."