Nancy took her shoes off when he offered her the first glass of wine. She pushed the stilettos under the coffee table and accepted it, her eyes dancing.

"So that's everything?"

"It wouldn't have taken so long if we hadn't kept... interrupting ourselves," she replied, smiling. "But yes. That's everything. And it really isn't that much."

"It isn't that much? I can't even keep everything you just told me straight in my head. I'm used to being fed information via PowerPoint presentation."

She looked relaxed and comfortable, the wineglass still in her hand. He only realized that because every now and then he made some comment and something in her face shifted, and it took her a few minutes to regain her equilibrium again, fully.

"Maybe I should bring over a whiteboard and markers."

"So how many different leads are you and your dad tracking down?" Ned took a long sip of wine, keeping his eyes steady on hers.

"Neighbors, friends, past workplaces, the bar Celia went the night Jack died..."

"How many calls did he make to this place?"

"I don't have it with me, but it was at least a few times a week."

"While the bar was open, or not?"

"Didn't check," Nancy admitted, swirling the last of the wine in her glass before finishing it off. "Good point."

"Hmm," Ned said, pleased, and leaned in to kiss her again. Without looking he managed to put his wineglass down and then leaned in until she was braced against the back of the couch, her hand curving around his upper arm.

"So," she murmured, when they broke apart. He started to move away and she tightened her grip slightly on his arm, and he didn't protest, staying well within her personal space. "I reward you with kisses?"

"When you say it like that, it makes me think of strip poker," he admitted, his gaze dropping to her lips. "What were we talking about?"

"The case," she reminded him, gently, her tone the same dreamily distracted as his. "Point out something I haven't thought of, and you get a kiss..."

"What if I solve it?"

Her eyes cleared, just a little. "You figured out who did it?" She sounded just, just the faintest touch defensive.

"It was Belinda," he replied, leaning in, and as she closed her eyes he smiled and went for her earlobe instead. "He probably said she looked fat in something, so she killed him."

"Did she really know him?" Nancy tilted her head against the back of the couch as Ned slowly traced a line down her neck.

"Not that I know of," Ned sighed, and traced the neckline of her dress with his knuckles, stopping an inch above the lowest point of the V. He glanced up and found her watching him, her lips slightly parted.

"How many dates have we been on?"

"Quite a few."

She lowered her lashes and ran her fingertips over his knuckles. "How long does it usually take your girlfriends to jump into bed with you?"

"Unless there are special circumstances," he said, nodding slightly in her direction, "um... would have been months ago."

He chuckled and she joined in, but her eyes were still low.

"I thought so."

"I usually have a pretty intense screening process, but... you saying you want to jump into bed with me, Drew?"

He curved his forefinger under her chin, but hadn't yet tilted it up when her blue eyes were on his again. "Hypothetically," she began, then took a breath, "if I said I did, would you?"

"Is this a trick question?"

"A hypothetical," Nancy replied, lightly, and searched his eyes.

Ned actually took a long breath and considered, his heartbeat rising, thinking past the immediate Fuck yes, yes, now, please don't let this be a trick. "I don't know," he admitted. "You've already made it very clear that you want to wait, and I guess... I wouldn't want you to wake up tomorrow morning and regret making a decision on the spur of the moment, like this."

"Tomorrow morning," she repeated softly. "It must be incredibly frustrating for you."

He shrugged. "It'd be different if you were a cocktease," he said. "Which you aren't. Really, it's not that bad."

"Cold showers and hand lotion?"

"Something like that," he agreed, even while thinking that yes, life had become very much about that, of late. Stilettos and a low-cut black dress. She had to know the kind of signals she was sending him. At least now he knew they were just that.

If he didn't think about something else soon, he'd end up in a headlock on the floor for trying something too far across the line.

God, her lips are so full.

"You think the case will be wrapped up by this weekend?" Ned uncorked the wine again.

Nancy made an incredulous noise. "Not unless there's some massive break, I think Dad's already gone into trial preparation mode just in case. Why?"

"Because I had an idea, and I kind of made reservations, and I know that was stupid of me but it was going to be a surprise..."

"If it's for dinner or something, I'm sure that won't be a problem," she said, and her fingers brushed his when he handed her the glass again. In college it had been too easy to make this an excuse, for him or for the girl to say they were too drunk to drive, and then begin the elaborate dance of who would make the first move. He was a little disappointed that she could always call a cab and make it home safely, that they wouldn't have to dance around his offer to take the couch and let her sleep in his bed, lend her a shirt again, brush their teeth together at the sink while his shirt rode up on her and revealed what were undoubtedly sexy black panties...

Oh shut up, Ned begged his internal monologue. At least until she's gone.

"Not quite," he told her, after clearing his throat. "Something a bit more involved. Something that'll probably take all of Saturday morning. I guess I can cancel, if you think you can't take the time away, or if your work..."

"There is always that," she admitted. "You've intrigued me."

"Good."

Her hand came to rest on his. They had turned on the television set, talked over the case, in a fruitless effort to distract themselves from the long makeout session the night was still threatening to become, and she turned back to the sitcom, her thumb stroking the side of his.

"Nan?"

"Hmm?"

She turned to him again and he kissed her, hard, until her lips were swelled from the pressure of his, her eyes hazed with the same desire he'd seen while they were searching Jack's apartment. His hand lingered on her shoulder.

Black panties.

Shut up!

"Why did you ask your little hypothetical?"

She shrugged a little, the corner of her mouth turning up into a smile. "I guess I'm a little worried that if you want it and expect it in our relationship, and we... don't..., that you'll go elsewhere."

"I think it's sexy that you want to take things slow."

She raised her eyebrow, her expression inquisitive, and Ned chuckled. "I'm used to girls who don't even make it to the third date before they're trying to jump me. It's kind of a nice change, to find someone playing hard to get, for once."

"You still consider this," she gestured between them, "slow?"

"Hey, it's not like we're not making progress," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her again. "Besides, instant gratification is overrated. I like anticipation."

"Then you're going to be the happiest guy in the world," she whispered, before returning his kiss.