Quiet (PG-13) Nancy/Ned Part 1
Title: Quiet (Part 1)
Characters/Pairing: Nancy/Frank, Nancy/Ned
Rating: PG-13 (this part)
Summary/Prompt: Ned tells Nancy he's leaving for good, possibly out of the country, after dealing with a Hardy involved case...and she has a chat with Frank Hardy, who tells her to go fight for him
Spoilers: None
Warning(s): Rated PG-13 for profanities
Word Count: 887 (just wanted to post what i have first - hoping to finish at least 3/4 of the story by tomorrow)
Author's Note: This goes out to whoever suggested this prompt a long time back (i really can't rmb), and also to ndnickerson and littlemsmessy for the recent flood of brilliant fics. :')
“Cheers.”
Nancy clinked her glass with Frank, musing absent-mindedly over the fact that they were together alone in a hotel room. Her room. She downed the contents in one gulp, slamming her champagne glass back onto the table. “One more.”
Frank raised an eyebrow at her, obliging her request.
Ned.
The way the eyebrow was arched reminded her of him. The way that raised eyebrow would be a hint to something much more later.
“We might have solved the case-”
“Which was one hell of a case. Which calls for a celebration.” Nancy interrupted, one finger up, her voice already slightly slurring. She had neglected her dinner, and her stomach was sloshed full of wine with just half of a sandwich from lunch to soak up the liquor.
“You're gonna get drunk.” Ned -no, Frank- said softly. He wasn't far behind her, but he was still that little bit more sober.
She imagined what Ned would do. How his fingers would start inching up her arm, leaving in his trail, a line of goosebumps up her flesh. How he would lean in slowly, staring at her aggressively, before claiming her mouth with his.
She shivered at the thought of his touch.
Frank caught her shiver, however slight it was. “Cold?”
“A little.” Nancy admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “I think I need one more.”
Frank shook his head, groaning a little as he emptied the contents into her glass, the liquid overflowing. She felt her eyelids tug slightly, her head droop as she swallowed with a small grimace.
“Nancy -” Frank placed his hand on her thigh and she looked at him, startled.
That slight touch felt like electricity. She was hyped.
“I'm just gonna sleep for a while.” Frank mumbled as he rested his head against the edge of the sofa, neck against cushion, hand still on her bare thigh.
She liked the warmth that came along with it. What she didn't like was the double vision that she was starting to get.
Frank awoke as quickly as he fell asleep, looking bleary. “Another bottle?” He pushed himself up, staggering to the kitchen before Nancy could protest.
Perhaps another glass could cure that insistent throb going on inside her head.
They toasted again, and Nancy rested her head on Ned's - no Frank's, it was really getting hard to remember, shoulder.
“You're trying to get me drunk, aren't you.” She mumbled as Frank looped his arm round her.
Frank snorted and she waved him off, her hand making exaggerated arcs. She vaguely heard something click but she didn't care. It wasn't going to be anything important anyway.
“You know, Ned,” She continued, looking at his side profile, as she watched his head slump against the arm of the sofa, his arms still round her, so that she was almost pressed on him.
She flipped that familiar lock of brown hair of his face.
Something wasn't quite right. The features didn't really add up. But Ned always held her this way. Ned was the only one who could hold her this way.
“Ned,” she murmured happily, as she ran her palm down his face, watching in disappointment as he didn't stir under her.
“You know,” she giggled, her hand caressing his face, “You don't have to make me drunk for you to have sex with me. I love you. I always will.”
Distantly, she heard someone choke out a cry and she turned her head as fast as she dared to prevent the purple dots from discolouring her gaze.
“What the fuck, Nan?”
She blinked. Once. Twice.
“Ned?” She asked, confused. Ned was holding her in his arms. Ned was sleeping right under her. Ned was standing in front of her?
She blinked again. Did she imagine him being here? She looked down at the face which was blurred in her sight. Her head was spinning and his chest felt comfortable and inviting. She always loved sleeping on his chest, all hard muscle from years of football practice, broad and warm. She loved being able to hear his heart beat.
Ned shifted under her, his arms tightening round her. Sighing, she rested her head on his chest, still looking at the man standing in front of her. His face was twisted in some kind of ugly agony and she couldn't read the expression that crossed his face. That was far too complicated for her brain to process right now.
Her Ned would never look like that. He was drop-dead gorgeous with chiseled good looks, a far cry from this hazy outline, from this person who looked angry enough to strike her. Even if she could never touch her nose with her index finger in her current state, she knew enough to crouch instinctively, slinking away from him, drawing closer to Ned's chest. Her Ned. He would protect her. He always said he would.
“I love him.” She articulated as clearly as she could, the blood in her ear pounding in sync with his heartbeat, as she told the pale imitation of Ned standing in front of her, willing him to go away.
“Fuck you.” He whispered hoarsely as he threw down the hotel key and walked away.
She closed her eyes and felt herself drift off to sleep.