Doubt (Chapter 1 - The Heartbreak)
Title:Doubt
Author:glasheen25
Pairing/Characters:Nancy/Ned, Nancy/Frank
Series:post-files
Word Count:2002
Rating:R
Summary:In the first instance Ned misses his flight, missing Nancy's birthday in the process. In the second instance Ned makes his flight, arriving on time. How a seemingly inconsequential event could lead Nancy's life in two completely different directions.
Spoilers:None
Warnings:None
Saturday, 16th February 2008, 6.45 p.m.
"This has to qualify as the worst birthday ever," Nancy sighed irritably as she collapsed onto the bed, feeling only a momentary twinge of guilt for disturbing the neatly arranged mound of cushions and pillows on the deep purple bedspread. Though her mood had been progressively darkening all evening, Nancy had to admit the hotel room, a token of appreciation from a much gratified client, was outrageously luxurious. The decor was plush and tasteful, the standard-issue bathrobe impossibly fluffy, and the marble bathroom held such a vast array of beauty products that even Bess couldn’t help but be impressed. Not that she had much opportunity to sleep in the room, Nancy though wryly, lying spread eagled on the bed, her bare limbs gleaming from her shower, her red-blonde hair pinned up tightly in rollers. In fact, over the previous three days, sleep was one luxury the case didn't afford her and Nancy's sum total of a measly twelve hours' sleep had been mostly snatched in the cramped confines of their rented car.
Reaching for the remote, Nancy flicked absently through the television channels, too hyped up and over energized to focus on anything for more than a minute, finally conceding defeat and tossing it dejectedly on the floor. At the sudden beep of her phone, Nancy's heart soared, her excitement evaporating almost instantaneously when she saw the message was from Bess. Ned still hadn't called. Much anticipated birthday plans, made excitedly over the phone, now seemed doomed. Her anger intensifying with every passing moment, Nancy reached for her moisturizer, rubbing the lotion into her skin with a sudden vicious ferocity.
Over the years, Ned had slowly and reluctantly grown resigned to her passion for detective work. With that acceptance had come an apathy of sorts that had set in so slowly, Nancy had barely noticed it. He rarely got involved in her cases anymore, rarely complained or got angry even if a case interfered with holiday plans or dates. Where was her fierce protector, her white knight, who would swoop down in a moment's notice to help her or save her at the first hint of menace or danger? It wasn't that he didn't care about her; Nancy knew Ned loved her, but she suspected this was something he had carefully cultivated over the years, a form of self-preservation, as if anticipating some terrible fate would befall her. Nancy was in her final year at Cornell and Ned was hundreds of miles away, swamped by the demands of his hectic job in Chicago, and the pair had barely seen each other, much less spent any actual quality time together. And the distance between them wasn't confined solely to the physical either, Nancy reflected miserably, gratefully unpinning the unpleasantly tight rollers. Something had crept into Ned's voice lately, every time they spoke, something he always seemed on the verge of broaching but never actually discussing, which proved both horribly frustrating and disconcerting for Nancy. Too many times, she had thought of forcing the issue, demanding answers, but Nancy never did, afraid of what he might say. So the two of them continued the charade, confining their conversations to the mundane and skirting around what neither one of them was willing to say.
Picking up her phone, Nancy had the sudden, almost irresistible urge to call Ned, to hear his voice, to have him reassure her that everything was okay, but dismissed that thought almost as soon as it entered her head. It was her birthday, for crying out loud, and he hadn't even bothered to call her. No, Nancy had her pride, and hell would freeze over before she'd make the first move.
Discarding her usual pink lipgloss, Nancy rummaged through her makeup bag, reaching for the darker shade of lipstick that Bess was always trying to convince her to use. Pressing her lips together, she eyed the bottle of champagne angrily. In an earlier burst of optimism, she had ordered the bottle from room service, thinking they could skip dinner completely and take advantage of the hotel room and the precious time together. Now lying abandoned in the bucket, the ice turned to slush, it just served to remind her of the disastrous wreck the night had become. Nancy withdrew the bottle with a fierce snap of her wrist, popping the cork noisily, the champagne hissing angrily, spewing over the side and landing in a frothy mess on the rich, purple carpet. Pouring it into the glass, Nancy took a furious gulp of the liquid, willing it to claim even a little of her anger and frustration, if only for a moment or so.
An hour later, her red-blonde curls spilling loosely around her shoulders, still fidgety and angry, Nancy sat perched at the hotel bar, a bright pink cocktail at her elbow. Hotel bars were depressing as a rule and this one was no different; the atmosphere was staid and stuffy and the decor uncomfortably generic, a Mecca for lone businessmen shuffling through papers and tapping away on laptops, at a loss with nothing better to do. Taking a long sip of her drink, Nancy shuddered slightly, feeling slightly nauseated and dizzy from the alcohol.
"Nancy, is that you?"
Hearing the familiar voice behind her, Nancy whipped around, a broad smile appearing on her face when she saw a rather bruised and battered Frank Hardy making his way towards her.
"What are you doing here? I thought you and Ned had some big birthday plans tonight."
"Yeah, we did," Nancy sighed, crossing her long tanned legs, not missing the way Frank's gaze followed the movement appreciatively. "But he hasn't shown up, so I'm here on my own," she shrugged, taking another angry gulp of her drink.
"Hey, take it easy, Nan," Frank advised her firmly, pulling himself onto the bar stool beside her. "It's only eight o' clock. Have you even eaten anything yet?"
"Now where's the fun in that?" Nancy joked lightly, though her stomach did roil at the thought. A stale muffin eaten earlier that day was her last vague memory of food. She was unable to suppress a smile as Frank ordered a beer for himself and a chicken sandwich for her. He really was a sweet guy and it was nice to be fussed over for a change. "So what's the deal with you, anyway?" Nancy asked curiously, signaling at the barman for another cocktail and inwardly smiling at the disapproving glance on Frank's face. "I thought you two were heading home."
"Joe has to spend the night in the hospital, they want to run a few more tests," he replied, running a hand wearily through his dark hair.
"Is he okay?" Nancy asked, her blue eyes widening in concern. "I mean, I know he got hit pretty hard, but I've seen him get a lot worse."
"Yeah well, let's just say the nurses were hot and I think he may have over-exaggerated his symptoms slightly," Frank laughed, beginning to relax as the beer took hold. "So the choice between crashing here or sleeping on a hard plastic chair at the hospital wasn't exactly a difficult one to make. And it looks like I get to save the birthday girl in the bargain," he added with a playful wink.
"You sure did," Nancy sighed, stirring her cocktail unenthusiastically. "Now Frank, I hope you feel like drinking because by my calculations, you’re at least five drinks behind me."
Innumerable drinks and countless shots later, Nancy's mind was clouded and confused, a sticky hazed fog to which she had gratefully succumbed. Her once-bouncy curls now hung limp and lifeless around her shoulders, her makeup was smudged, and her dress exposed a dangerous amount of flesh. Shaking her head to clear it, Nancy glanced around the bar, suddenly noticing the soft tinkling of the piano had given way to more generic hotel music and the room was unsettlingly quiet. The lone barman looked increasingly impatient, darting irritable glances at the pair and noisily clearing glasses and moving chairs as if daring them to stay.
"You okay, Nan?" Frank asked in concern, placing his hand on her arm to steady her.
"I'm fine," Nancy replied uncertainly, taking a hesitant sip of her drink, nausea and dejection pooling unpleasantly in her stomach.
"This has been a really great night. You're a lot of fun, Nan." Frank laughed, risking a quick glance at the barman who shot a disapproving glance at the unruly state of the couple.
"I know, I am fun, right?" Nancy agreed determinedly, taking a long gulp from her lipstick-smeared glass. "Ned doesn't think so, though," she sighed despairingly, her dark mood threatening to overwhelm her again. "I mean, we were supposed to have this amazing romantic night and he hasn't even bothered to call me,” she shrugged, pushing her cell phone away harshly, the phone turned off in an earlier fit of rage. "What does that say about me?" Her voice shook slightly as she struggled to regain control of her emotions.
"It doesn't say anything about you, it just tells me he's nuts. I mean, look at you,” he added softly, his brown eyes gazing at her sympathetically.
"I look like a mess," Nancy couldn't help but smile, swiping quickly at her wet eyes before her mascara could mark a watery trail down her cheeks, smearing evidence of the disastrous night on her face.
"You look beautiful, Nan," Frank whispered gently, reaching out and hesitantly placing an arm around her shoulders. "You're an amazing person and he's a fool if he can't see it."
"Really?" Nancy asked, unconvinced, dabbing delicately at her hopelessly smudged eyes, though she smiled at his words.
"Really," he confirmed, neither one noticing the distance closing between them until suddenly his lips were on hers, his arms pulling her close and claiming her with such a fierce possessiveness that Nancy couldn't help but respond.
Blurred with alcohol, as through a haze they kissed passionately, his fingers tangled in her hair, his hands tugging at her dress.
"Okay, that's it, I've had it."
At the sigh of frustration from behind them and the furious banging of glasses, Nancy and Frank disengaged themselves reluctantly, uncomfortable under the watchful disapproval of the barman.
"Go upstairs and finish whatever it is you're doing, or leave and do it somewhere else, I don't really care, but it's almost two o'clock in the morning and believe me, I'm not being paid nearly enough to have to watch this."
Giggling, Nancy stood up, twirling unsteadily on her high heels, the purple skirt of her dress flowing around her. "What are we going to do now?" she pouted, taking one last sip of her vodka. "I really don't want to go to bed."
"You don't have to," Frank smiled coyly, taking her hand in his and pulling her toward the elevator. He pushed Nancy against the wall and kissed her deeply as soon as the doors slid shut. "The night doesn't have to end yet, now does it?" he whispered softly in her ear, a pleasant shiver spreading up Nancy's spine as she felt his breath hot on her neck.
Her response a soft nod, Nancy acquiesced as Frank pulled her into his arms. He crushed her against him with renewed force, her legs wrapped around his waist as he edged his way out of the elevator, before he suddenly stopped, pulling away mid-kiss.
"What the fuck is going on here?"
Even though it was distorted by shock and anger, Nancy didn't need to look behind her to identify the voice.
It belonged to Ned.
Author:glasheen25
Pairing/Characters:Nancy/Ned, Nancy/Frank
Series:post-files
Word Count:2002
Rating:R
Summary:In the first instance Ned misses his flight, missing Nancy's birthday in the process. In the second instance Ned makes his flight, arriving on time. How a seemingly inconsequential event could lead Nancy's life in two completely different directions.
Spoilers:None
Warnings:None
Saturday, 16th February 2008, 6.45 p.m.
"This has to qualify as the worst birthday ever," Nancy sighed irritably as she collapsed onto the bed, feeling only a momentary twinge of guilt for disturbing the neatly arranged mound of cushions and pillows on the deep purple bedspread. Though her mood had been progressively darkening all evening, Nancy had to admit the hotel room, a token of appreciation from a much gratified client, was outrageously luxurious. The decor was plush and tasteful, the standard-issue bathrobe impossibly fluffy, and the marble bathroom held such a vast array of beauty products that even Bess couldn’t help but be impressed. Not that she had much opportunity to sleep in the room, Nancy though wryly, lying spread eagled on the bed, her bare limbs gleaming from her shower, her red-blonde hair pinned up tightly in rollers. In fact, over the previous three days, sleep was one luxury the case didn't afford her and Nancy's sum total of a measly twelve hours' sleep had been mostly snatched in the cramped confines of their rented car.
Reaching for the remote, Nancy flicked absently through the television channels, too hyped up and over energized to focus on anything for more than a minute, finally conceding defeat and tossing it dejectedly on the floor. At the sudden beep of her phone, Nancy's heart soared, her excitement evaporating almost instantaneously when she saw the message was from Bess. Ned still hadn't called. Much anticipated birthday plans, made excitedly over the phone, now seemed doomed. Her anger intensifying with every passing moment, Nancy reached for her moisturizer, rubbing the lotion into her skin with a sudden vicious ferocity.
Over the years, Ned had slowly and reluctantly grown resigned to her passion for detective work. With that acceptance had come an apathy of sorts that had set in so slowly, Nancy had barely noticed it. He rarely got involved in her cases anymore, rarely complained or got angry even if a case interfered with holiday plans or dates. Where was her fierce protector, her white knight, who would swoop down in a moment's notice to help her or save her at the first hint of menace or danger? It wasn't that he didn't care about her; Nancy knew Ned loved her, but she suspected this was something he had carefully cultivated over the years, a form of self-preservation, as if anticipating some terrible fate would befall her. Nancy was in her final year at Cornell and Ned was hundreds of miles away, swamped by the demands of his hectic job in Chicago, and the pair had barely seen each other, much less spent any actual quality time together. And the distance between them wasn't confined solely to the physical either, Nancy reflected miserably, gratefully unpinning the unpleasantly tight rollers. Something had crept into Ned's voice lately, every time they spoke, something he always seemed on the verge of broaching but never actually discussing, which proved both horribly frustrating and disconcerting for Nancy. Too many times, she had thought of forcing the issue, demanding answers, but Nancy never did, afraid of what he might say. So the two of them continued the charade, confining their conversations to the mundane and skirting around what neither one of them was willing to say.
Picking up her phone, Nancy had the sudden, almost irresistible urge to call Ned, to hear his voice, to have him reassure her that everything was okay, but dismissed that thought almost as soon as it entered her head. It was her birthday, for crying out loud, and he hadn't even bothered to call her. No, Nancy had her pride, and hell would freeze over before she'd make the first move.
Discarding her usual pink lipgloss, Nancy rummaged through her makeup bag, reaching for the darker shade of lipstick that Bess was always trying to convince her to use. Pressing her lips together, she eyed the bottle of champagne angrily. In an earlier burst of optimism, she had ordered the bottle from room service, thinking they could skip dinner completely and take advantage of the hotel room and the precious time together. Now lying abandoned in the bucket, the ice turned to slush, it just served to remind her of the disastrous wreck the night had become. Nancy withdrew the bottle with a fierce snap of her wrist, popping the cork noisily, the champagne hissing angrily, spewing over the side and landing in a frothy mess on the rich, purple carpet. Pouring it into the glass, Nancy took a furious gulp of the liquid, willing it to claim even a little of her anger and frustration, if only for a moment or so.
An hour later, her red-blonde curls spilling loosely around her shoulders, still fidgety and angry, Nancy sat perched at the hotel bar, a bright pink cocktail at her elbow. Hotel bars were depressing as a rule and this one was no different; the atmosphere was staid and stuffy and the decor uncomfortably generic, a Mecca for lone businessmen shuffling through papers and tapping away on laptops, at a loss with nothing better to do. Taking a long sip of her drink, Nancy shuddered slightly, feeling slightly nauseated and dizzy from the alcohol.
"Nancy, is that you?"
Hearing the familiar voice behind her, Nancy whipped around, a broad smile appearing on her face when she saw a rather bruised and battered Frank Hardy making his way towards her.
"What are you doing here? I thought you and Ned had some big birthday plans tonight."
"Yeah, we did," Nancy sighed, crossing her long tanned legs, not missing the way Frank's gaze followed the movement appreciatively. "But he hasn't shown up, so I'm here on my own," she shrugged, taking another angry gulp of her drink.
"Hey, take it easy, Nan," Frank advised her firmly, pulling himself onto the bar stool beside her. "It's only eight o' clock. Have you even eaten anything yet?"
"Now where's the fun in that?" Nancy joked lightly, though her stomach did roil at the thought. A stale muffin eaten earlier that day was her last vague memory of food. She was unable to suppress a smile as Frank ordered a beer for himself and a chicken sandwich for her. He really was a sweet guy and it was nice to be fussed over for a change. "So what's the deal with you, anyway?" Nancy asked curiously, signaling at the barman for another cocktail and inwardly smiling at the disapproving glance on Frank's face. "I thought you two were heading home."
"Joe has to spend the night in the hospital, they want to run a few more tests," he replied, running a hand wearily through his dark hair.
"Is he okay?" Nancy asked, her blue eyes widening in concern. "I mean, I know he got hit pretty hard, but I've seen him get a lot worse."
"Yeah well, let's just say the nurses were hot and I think he may have over-exaggerated his symptoms slightly," Frank laughed, beginning to relax as the beer took hold. "So the choice between crashing here or sleeping on a hard plastic chair at the hospital wasn't exactly a difficult one to make. And it looks like I get to save the birthday girl in the bargain," he added with a playful wink.
"You sure did," Nancy sighed, stirring her cocktail unenthusiastically. "Now Frank, I hope you feel like drinking because by my calculations, you’re at least five drinks behind me."
Innumerable drinks and countless shots later, Nancy's mind was clouded and confused, a sticky hazed fog to which she had gratefully succumbed. Her once-bouncy curls now hung limp and lifeless around her shoulders, her makeup was smudged, and her dress exposed a dangerous amount of flesh. Shaking her head to clear it, Nancy glanced around the bar, suddenly noticing the soft tinkling of the piano had given way to more generic hotel music and the room was unsettlingly quiet. The lone barman looked increasingly impatient, darting irritable glances at the pair and noisily clearing glasses and moving chairs as if daring them to stay.
"You okay, Nan?" Frank asked in concern, placing his hand on her arm to steady her.
"I'm fine," Nancy replied uncertainly, taking a hesitant sip of her drink, nausea and dejection pooling unpleasantly in her stomach.
"This has been a really great night. You're a lot of fun, Nan." Frank laughed, risking a quick glance at the barman who shot a disapproving glance at the unruly state of the couple.
"I know, I am fun, right?" Nancy agreed determinedly, taking a long gulp from her lipstick-smeared glass. "Ned doesn't think so, though," she sighed despairingly, her dark mood threatening to overwhelm her again. "I mean, we were supposed to have this amazing romantic night and he hasn't even bothered to call me,” she shrugged, pushing her cell phone away harshly, the phone turned off in an earlier fit of rage. "What does that say about me?" Her voice shook slightly as she struggled to regain control of her emotions.
"It doesn't say anything about you, it just tells me he's nuts. I mean, look at you,” he added softly, his brown eyes gazing at her sympathetically.
"I look like a mess," Nancy couldn't help but smile, swiping quickly at her wet eyes before her mascara could mark a watery trail down her cheeks, smearing evidence of the disastrous night on her face.
"You look beautiful, Nan," Frank whispered gently, reaching out and hesitantly placing an arm around her shoulders. "You're an amazing person and he's a fool if he can't see it."
"Really?" Nancy asked, unconvinced, dabbing delicately at her hopelessly smudged eyes, though she smiled at his words.
"Really," he confirmed, neither one noticing the distance closing between them until suddenly his lips were on hers, his arms pulling her close and claiming her with such a fierce possessiveness that Nancy couldn't help but respond.
Blurred with alcohol, as through a haze they kissed passionately, his fingers tangled in her hair, his hands tugging at her dress.
"Okay, that's it, I've had it."
At the sigh of frustration from behind them and the furious banging of glasses, Nancy and Frank disengaged themselves reluctantly, uncomfortable under the watchful disapproval of the barman.
"Go upstairs and finish whatever it is you're doing, or leave and do it somewhere else, I don't really care, but it's almost two o'clock in the morning and believe me, I'm not being paid nearly enough to have to watch this."
Giggling, Nancy stood up, twirling unsteadily on her high heels, the purple skirt of her dress flowing around her. "What are we going to do now?" she pouted, taking one last sip of her vodka. "I really don't want to go to bed."
"You don't have to," Frank smiled coyly, taking her hand in his and pulling her toward the elevator. He pushed Nancy against the wall and kissed her deeply as soon as the doors slid shut. "The night doesn't have to end yet, now does it?" he whispered softly in her ear, a pleasant shiver spreading up Nancy's spine as she felt his breath hot on her neck.
Her response a soft nod, Nancy acquiesced as Frank pulled her into his arms. He crushed her against him with renewed force, her legs wrapped around his waist as he edged his way out of the elevator, before he suddenly stopped, pulling away mid-kiss.
"What the fuck is going on here?"
Even though it was distorted by shock and anger, Nancy didn't need to look behind her to identify the voice.
It belonged to Ned.