Refers to Files 27.

"Hello?"

"Nancy?"

Nancy groped on the bedside table until she found her alarm clock, peering at it with bleary eyes. "Hey Dad," she murmured into the phone, pushing her hair out of her face.

"I was just calling to make sure you remember we're supposed to have lunch today?"

Nancy let her head fall back to the pillow. "Oh sure," she replied, closing her eyes. "So the conference is this week?"

"Right. And I think I've talked to Bess and George more often in the past month than I've talked to you."

Nancy smiled. "Sorry," she replied. "Someone has to keep the world free."

"No excuse," Carson replied, but she could hear him smiling. "Am I going to have to get Hannah to make your favorites, to get you to come home and see your dad?"

"No, I promise. I'll be there around noon. Make yourself pretty."

Carson chuckled. "Maybe a nice sweater-vest."

After Nancy snapped her phone shut, she climbed out of bed in her t-shirt and was at her door before she remembered, looking down at her bare legs.

Ned.

A faint blush rising to her cheeks, Nancy found her bathrobe and belted it tight around her before opening her bedroom door.

He was still there. The night before hadn't been a dream.

He had his face buried in her spare pillow, his back against the overstuffed back of the couch, the quilt pulled tight and wrapped around his legs. She could see the faint shadow of stubble on his cheeks and the soft sheen of exhaustion still under his lashes, but she didn't let her gaze linger on his face, afraid he would be able to feel its weight.

Her bare soles slid over the hardwood as she made her way quietly to the kitchen and started the coffee maker. The percolation was overloud, and she made her way back to the living room and her favorite armchair. She wasn't sure whether it was the smell of the coffee or his sensing her stare, but a minute later he turned over, careful to keep on the couch, and opened his eyes. He rubbed a palm over his face before catching her eye and smiling back at her. "Hey."

"Hey," she replied, folding her legs and tucking her cool bare feet under her thighs. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

He shrugged, tucking the quilt under his side. "At least your couch is comfortable."

"You even noticed? I think you fell asleep two minutes after we walked in last night."

Ned closed his eyes, pressing his cheek into the pillow, and grinned. "Do not think that it was in any way a statement on how smoking hot you are."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Nancy propped her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands, studying him with bemused eyes.

"That if I'd been able to keep my eyes open, I think I would have just stared at you all night."

"You feel that way too?" she said softly.

He nodded. "I can't believe you said yes," he whispered.

"I can't believe I said yes either."

"Hey," he protested mildly, opening his eyes again, to find her giggling. "So... do I get a do-over?"

Nancy smiled. "We can't get anything right on the first try, can we."

Ned stifled whatever reply he was about to make. "Let's just say that I can behave a little better after eight hours of sleep."

"One can only hope," Nancy said, all mock seriousness. "And I would totally take you up on that, and spend all of today on the couch with you... but I have to go see my dad. You wouldn't believe the kind of guilt trip he can give."

"Oh, I think I would," Ned replied, pushing herself up on his elbows. "When are you going to go see him?"

"In a few hours."

"And when do Bess and George get up?"

"George has probably been awake for ages, and we won't see Bess until after lunch. If she even made it home last night."

"Well then," Ned winked, and pulled the quilt up. "Come here."

Nancy pushed herself to her feet and walked over to Ned, her heart catching in her throat when her blue eyes met his brown ones and held. He patted the couch next to him, and when she sat down he tugged her down to lie next to him.

"Breakfast in bed," he promised, brushing her hair away from her cheek. "Pancakes from scratch. Something really... perfect, next time."

Nancy looped her arm over his shoulders, resting her lips just above his collarbone. "Give yourself a break," she whispered. "Right now... this is all I want."

--

"So what have you been up to?"

Nancy looked up from the sink, where she was rinsing their dishes from lunch. "The usual," she admitted. "Outwitting the wicked and protecting the weak."

"Sounds exactly like what I wrote on my first job application," Carson laughed. "Bess and George doing well?"

Nancy nodded. "And we haven't even killed each other yet," she told him, pointedly, smiling.

"I know, I know. Just because most people can't live with their high school friends..."

"Doesn't make me most people," she finished, drying her hands before joining her father in the living room. "We really should do this more often."

"You bet. Else I'll call some people and have you put on desk duty for a while."

"You wouldn't," she said, her eyes widening.

"I will," he returned, but the corners of his mouth were turning up in a smile. "Unless you tell me the name of the young man who's been taking up so much of your time, nearly every time I call your apartment."

Nancy opened her mouth, blush coloring her cheeks, and sighed when the phone rang. "After this, maybe," she teased him, settling back against the couch as her father answered the phone.

He returned ten minutes later. Nancy had loaded the dishwasher and was ducking in the refrigerator, searching for something other than water to drink. "So, where did you want to start?" she asked, keeping her voice even only with supreme effort. Carson Drew had approved of Frank Hardy, and telling him of their breakup was almost as bad as the event itself. Introducing Ned to her father...

"Do you know a Celia Quaid?" Carson asked.

Nancy mentally shifted gears. "Celia Quaid? She graduated with me, but I can't say that I really kept up with her. The last time I saw her was at one of Wendy's reunion parties at the beach house."

"What did you think of her? In general?"

Nancy raised an eyebrow at her father, but answered anyway. "Quiet, kept to herself. A little bit of a chip on her shoulder, but I really can't say that I blamed her for it, after the terrible way she was treated in high school."

"You don't know her boyfriend..."

Nancy shook her head and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. "Last time I saw her, she didn't have one, that I know of. Dad? What's this about?"

"She just called me. From jail. Wants me to defend her from murder charges." He smiled, but the expression held no humor. "Think I should take the case?"