This epilogue was written for Nancy Drew Yuletide 2013, and is set at Christmas 1950. It also contains PG-13 scenes of Nancy and Ned in bed; those scenes are edited down. If you're of age and want to read the full version, it's on AO3. Merry Christmas!

Two days before Christmas, Nancy kissed her husband goodbye, then brushed the trace of her lipstick from his lips with the ball of her thumb. "Maybe if I work very hard, I'll be able to leave at four-fifty-nine," Ned told Nancy with a twinkle in his eye.

"Earlier than that!" she retorted with a smile. "It's Christmas-Eve-eve! You certainly deserve to have some time off with your family. And don't forget the spice cake."

Ned finished putting on his gloves, then picked up his briefcase and took the cake in the other hand. In his long winter coat with his hat on, he looked very handsome and dashing, Nancy thought.

Then Maggie came over to them, looking up at her father with a pout. Margaret and Michael were nearly four years old now. Maggie looked just like her mother, with her intelligent blue eyes and wavy, silky blonde hair. During the warmer months, and even into the fall, it was almost impossible to drag her inside from playing in the backyard. Nancy had already dressed her in a red-and-black plaid jumper and white shirt, but Maggie had flatly refused to wear her shoes inside, and Nancy had just shrugged. If they needed to leave the house, she would make sure Maggie was wearing them, but otherwise she didn't see the harm. Nancy herself was dressed in a green and white checked day dress with a Peter Pan collar and flats; if she needed to leave the house, she might put on heels and pearls, but for a day at home she didn't go that far.

"Where are you going, Daddy?" Maggie said, tugging on the hem of her father's coat. "Too cold! Stay here!"

Ned knelt down so he could look into Maggie's face. "I know, angel. It is too cold. But I have to go earn some money so I can buy Mommy a beautiful Christmas present. And then tonight I'll be home to eat dinner and play with you, all right? And I'll be home tomorrow, too."

Maggie's eyes had grown wide at the mention of Christmas presents. She and her brother had been fascinated by the tree, and helping their mother decorate it with tinsel and their handmade ornaments. "Promise?"

Ned nodded solemnly. "Promise," he told her, and kissed her on the forehead.

By then Michael had joined them. Maggie was the very image of Nancy as a child, and Michael looked just like a miniature version of Ned. He had Nancy's nose, but Ned's eyes and hair and jawline. Wherever one twin was, though, the other wasn't far behind. If Mike was climbing a tree to save a stranded cat, Maggie was right behind him; if Maggie had decided to catch lightning bugs, Mike was probably right behind her with a jar. Mike wore black corduroy pants and a red shirt, and when Nancy looked into his sweet dark eyes, she found it hard to deny him anything.

"Do you have to go?"

Ned nodded firmly. "I do. But we'll play tonight and tomorrow, I promise." Then he released his briefcase and put down the wrapped loaf of spice cake, and gathered the twins into his arms.

"Be good for your mommy, okay? Maybe I'll stop on the way home and get us a treat."

"Treat!" Mike cried happily. "Yes!"

Maggie gave her father a smacking kiss on the cheek, then patted it. "We'll be good, Daddy."

Nancy gave Ned one last hug before he left. "I love you," he whispered into her ear.

"And I love you," Nancy whispered.

The twins were full of boundless energy, and Nancy loved them both. Edith took care of them while Nancy was at work, and Nancy was glad to have the time in the city, to earn money to support them and use her keen problem-solving skills and know that her babies were safe with their grandmother. Morris and Len were still working at code-breaking, but Sylvia and Nancy had been promoted. They still helped decode the occasional message, but Agent King and his supervisors trusted them enough that they were allowed to help analyze tactics and predict future behavior.

Nancy did take on the occasional mystery, but she didn't like spending too much time away from the twins. And, Nancy thought, looking down at her still-flat stomach with a small smile, their family would most likely have another member by next Christmas. She wasn't showing yet, but soon she would be.

"Okay, my little Christmas elves," Nancy said, looking at Maggie and Mike, and they glanced up at her eagerly. "We need to make a few gifts, I think, for Grandma and Papa Nickerson and Grandpa Drew."

Maggie grinned, her eyes wide. "Presents?"

Nancy nodded. "Since we're going to go see them on Christmas and have dinner together. Let's draw them some pretty pictures."

After she set out the art supplies on the kitchen table and they started working with their crayons, Nancy looked around with a smile. The tree was lit and twinkling, with far too many presents stacked beneath; Nancy and Ned spoiled their babies, but their grandparents were even worse. The mantel was decorated with holly and red candles, far out of Maggie and Mike's reach—or at least they seemed to be, but the twins were resourceful. Stockings for Maggie and Mike hung from the mantel too. She had placed a wreath on their front door and small electric candles in the front windows, and a nativity scene on the small table beside the radio.

The radio was a constant in their home, and now the stations were playing holiday music. Maggie and Mike hummed or sang along without quite knowing the words, and Nancy had to smile fondly at them. They were so precious.

"Mommy, can I have a drink?"

"Me too," Maggie chimed in. "Please, Mommy?"

Nancy poured them both glasses of milk, rolled out the dough for sugar cookies, cut them out and baked them, and was just mixing the frosting when they heard a knock at the door.

At breakfast that morning, Nancy had told Maggie and Mike that George would be stopping by, and Mike immediately dropped his crayon and sprinted for the door with Maggie on his heels. "Mommy!"

"I heard it," Nancy laughed. "Just a moment, tiger."

George was standing on the front steps with a smile on her face and Patricia on her hip, both of them wearing red stocking caps and mittens with their winter coats. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" Nancy replied, stepping back so George could come inside. She stamped the snow from her shoes and put Patricia down. Patricia was barely two years old, and had dark hair and big hazel eyes, and Mike and Maggie were immediately offering her toys to play with, before George could even take her little girl's coat off.

"I talked to Mother this morning," George said with a smile as she unwrapped her own scarf. "Bess and Tommy and the baby—well, I suppose he isn't a baby anymore, and he has a little sister now too—are on the way and will be here tomorrow. We really must get together while they're visiting."

Nancy laughed. "I shudder to think what would happen with all five of our children in the same room," she commented. "Something to drink? I think the apple cider should be ready by now."

Patricia's steps were still not quite assured, but soon she was toddling around the room with Mike and Maggie. Nancy and George sat down on the couch, watching them as they sipped from mugs of warm cider.

"Is Stephen doing well?"

"Yes," George said with a smile. "He's glad the office will be closed for a few days, after today."

"And you're coming tonight?"

"Of course. My in-laws can't wait to watch her for a few hours while we get dressed up and have a little alone-time."

"She is precious."

"She's precious now," George replied. "This morning she wailed and kicked her shoes off four times. Terrible twos is right."

After George and Patricia played with the twins for a while, all the children were tired out. George took Patricia home to put her down for her nap and get ready for the dance, and Nancy put the twins down in their own rooms. Maggie's room was papered in nursery rhyme characters on a bright buttercup-yellow background, and Mike's room was papered in sailboats and whales on pale blue. They didn't want to take their naps, they never did, but when Nancy told them that if they slept their father would be home faster, they gave in easily enough.

Then Nancy went to the room she shared with Ned. The bed was made, their clothes put away, her vanity and Ned's dresser in order. The dress she had selected for the dance at the River Heights Country Club was beautifully embroidered ivory silk satin with a strapless bodice and a floor-length ball skirt. The dark-red velvet cape was perfectly festive, and her pale-gold pumps were the perfect height. Nancy had been happy to pay for the ensemble out of her own money; it was made all the sweeter, knowing she had earned every penny it had cost.

Ned had insisted, too. He made enough to provide for his wife and their children, and he wanted her to have everything she wanted, every beautiful dress and piece of jewelry and whatever else she wanted. He had offered to pay for the dress, but Nancy hadn't let him. Her diamond wedding ring would look beautiful with it, she already knew; Ned had given her a diamond necklace last Christmas that would look absolutely amazing with it, too.

After their naps the twins helped her decorate sugar cookies, and while their dinner simmered Nancy gave them each a thorough scrub with a washcloth; their fingers and faces had been sticky with icing, but they were giggling and happy.

Ned returned home soon after work, and Mike and Maggie greeted him at the door, immediately clamoring for his attention. Nancy took his hat and coat, and when he sat down on the couch their children immediately climbed up to join him.

"Nancy," Ned called, mock panic in his voice. "Help, I'm being attacked by pygmies."

"Daddy," Michael giggled, standing up on the couch and looking into Ned's face. "We made cookies!"

"Which will be a nice treat after dinner," Nancy pointed out. Ned suddenly grabbed both of his children and drew them to him, and they squealed with laughter as he hugged them.

"I have almost all my sweethearts," he said, looking up at Nancy, and Michael and Margaret's eyes danced as they laughed. "Were you good for Mommy today?"

They told Ned all about their day as Nancy set the table and called them to it, then served the pot roast with potatoes, carrots, and onions. Ned nodded and listened to their excited voices describing baby Patricia, the pictures they had drawn for their grandparents, all of it.

True to his word, Ned played with each of them after dinner. He turned clearing the table into a game, and they helped Nancy take the dishes to the sink, and then he served them each a cookie—with Nancy's approval—and wiped their sticky fingers. Mike had an oversized model train set, and together they went to his room and set it up, then drove it around the track.

Ned really was such an incredible father, Nancy thought as she washed the dishes. She had never doubted he would be, but she was so grateful to have his help, when other men would have left raising their children to her, preferring that they be rarely seen and never heard. On the weekends, when he could, Ned was the most likely to put on casual clothes and accompany Mike and Maggie on their "adventures" in the backyard.

Since Nancy needed longer to prepare for the evening, Ned took their children over to his parents' house while she bathed and began putting on her makeup. Ned came back and was just tying his tie when Nancy shooed him out; she wanted to see his face when he saw her in the gown for the first time.

When she emerged from their bedroom in her full ensemble, all the time and effort had been worth it. Ned stood, wearing his snow-white shirt and coal-black suit, his shoes perfectly shined and his tie already knotted. Just the sight of him made her almost lightheaded. He was so incredibly handsome, broad-shouldered, clean-shaven, his dark eyes intent as he gazed at her. "Oh, Nancy," he murmured. "Love, you look like a dream."

Nancy smiled. "So it's suitable?"

"It's more than suitable. You're too beautiful," he told her. "I definitely don't look forward to the dance now."

Nancy chuckled. "And why not?"

"Because I will spend the night having to tell the other men who can't keep their eyes off you that no, they certainly may not cut in and steal a dance. We could stay here," he pointed out, gesturing to the radio. "Have our own little dance, alone together."

Nancy patted his lapel. "Maybe after?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. "George and Stephen will be there, and Helen and Jim, and my father too, and it would be very bad form to stay home."

Ned reached for the button of her cape, gently pushed it from her shoulder, then lowered his head to drop a kiss on her pale smooth skin. "Would it, truly?" he murmured against her flesh.

Nancy's lashes fluttered down. "Yes," she murmured, but her voice was less sure. The touch of his lips against bare skin made her shiver, and truly she didn't care whose gazes she attracted, not as long as Ned's gaze was among them. Her attention, her heart, was set on him. His were the only arms she wished to linger within.

Despite his attempts to seduce her into staying home, both of them did enjoy the dance. The hall was decorated in soft twinkling lights, with fully decked Christmas trees and holly centerpieces. Nancy drank a flute of the cranberry champagne cocktail and so did Ned; they shared a plate of cookies and finger foods during the one break they took from dancing, but for the rest of the time they were out on the floor, swaying to the music provided by the band.

Ned's prediction came true more than a few times. Well-dressed men without partners approached them asking if they could cut in, but every time Ned gave his most polite refusal, and Nancy's hands never left his. Ned did allow his father-in-law to claim a dance, and he even grudgingly allowed Stephen to dance with his wife, but for the rest of the evening he was with Nancy.

"Ned," Nancy said softly, when she rejoined her husband after dancing with Stephen.

"Mmm?"

"You look incredibly handsome tonight."

"And you are the most beautiful woman in the room," Ned told her as they moved into another turn.

"How would you know that? I don't think you've taken your eyes off me, save when you were dancing with George."

"I don't need to see anyone else to know," Ned murmured, and his fingers traced small circles against her back, through the fabric of her gown. "You glow, darling, like there's candlelight just beneath your beautiful skin. And when we are able to go home tonight..."

"Yes?" Nancy murmured.

"I really do think it's time to get an accurate counting of all those freckles."

Nancy shivered. "Every time you try, love, you seem to lose count."

"But practice makes perfect." Ned's lips grazed the side of her neck, very briefly. "Oh, I love the feel of you in silk."

Nancy smiled, her lashes lowered. She had purchased a new gown along with the rest of her ensemble, and she had been planning on wearing it soon. Tonight would be perfect.

After the next dance, a man wearing a tuxedo approached the stage and tapped the microphone. "Merry Christmas to all of you! I wish to propose a toast, so if you could, please take a glass..."

Nancy and Ned each took another flute of champagne from a waiter, then stood expectantly. Nancy caught George's glance and they smiled at each other; George's dress was black velvet with a beautiful rhinestone brooch accenting the bodice, and she looked both polished and glowingly happy. Her marriage to Stephen three years earlier had been beautiful, and Nancy had been incredibly happy for her.

"During this season, we look back at what makes us thankful," the man continued. "To the close of 1950 and the start of 1951; to the sixth year of peace, to all those we lost and all those who returned, who gave their time, their safety, and in some cases their lives to protected and defend our country. We pray for a swift end to the conflict in Korea, to those brave men who fight for us again."

Nancy raised her glass with the rest of the gathered attendees, looking at Ned's impassive face. She knew well what going to war had done to him. He had told her about the concentration camp he had walked through, the cold sleepless nights in trenches and temporary camps, the friends who had been wounded and killed, the men who had died by his hand. The nightmares were fewer now, but he still had them; she knew when she woke to find him nestled tight against her, his face against her hair. The worst ones happened when he relived the explosion that had killed the soldier walking beside him, a boy who had lied about his age and was barely old enough to shave. The same explosion had injured Ned and sent him home, but if he had been walking on the other side, his parents would have seen the man with the briefcase at their door and that boy would have been the one coming home on crutches. His letters had stopped when he was first recuperating from the injury, and that silence had driven her crazy.

Ned was grateful for the life he had been fortunate enough to keep, the life he had built with his wife. He knew just how precious it was, and how close he had come to never having it.

After she had finished that second flute of champagne, Nancy was feeling pleasantly happy. She and Ned danced a bit more closely than they had before, and when Ned told her that her perfume was utterly enchanting, Nancy laughed and trailed her fingertips down the back of his neck.

"You are so beautiful, my love," he murmured. "To see you in a long white dress again... at least this time there is no veil between us."

She smiled. "And at least this time we go home to an empty house," she reminded him. "We won't have to stifle ourselves so we don't risk waking someone."

Ned moved back to look into her eyes. "Why, my dear," he murmured, his lips curving up slightly into a smile, "if you keep saying such things..."

"I was merely stating a fact," she pointed out, but her eyes were sparkling.

"And if I have any more champagne, we definitely won't stay here much longer," he replied.

After the dance, Ned was exhausted, but happy. After working for a full day, playing with his children and going to the dance with his wife, he was happy to go home to their bed—but he was even more happy when he undressed and slipped between the sheets, and Nancy reappeared. She had slipped out of her elaborate ballgown and put on a pale blue chiffon nightgown trimmed in lace. Her blonde hair was out of its twist and hung in soft waves down her bare shoulders. The diamond he had placed on her finger on their second wedding day glittered on her left hand.

"You look so beautiful," Ned told her. "So very beautiful, my love."

She smiled at him as she crossed to their bed and slipped beneath the covers, her eyes reflecting the gold light from his bedside lamp. "And you look very handsome; you have, all night," she murmured, moving toward him. "I've ached to hold you."

Ned brought his hand up and gently ran the backs of his fingers down the side of her neck. "Nancy," he said softly. "Oh, darling. I love you so much."

She moved close to him, kissing him as he embraced her. Slowly he pushed the lace strap of her gown down her shoulder, then nuzzled against her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder. She had been shivering from the cold; she still shivered, but now he could hear sigh when his lips came into contact with her skin.

"Ned," she murmured.

"Hmm?" Ned was gathering the hem of her gown in his hands, moving so he could slip it off her.

"My cycle... has stopped, again."

When Ned pulled back she blinked at him, her blue eyes soft, her lips parted. She had a faint smile on her face.

"Do you mean..."

She nodded, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "Yes, love," she breathed. "I think you're going to be a father again."

Ned couldn't help it; his smile widened into a grin. "Oh, Nancy."

She grinned too. "By next Christmas," she murmured. "And, Ned, when it comes time... I want you to be with me, and I don't want to just pass out and meet our baby the next day. Please. Promise me?"

Ned nodded. "If that's what you wish, sweetheart."

She raised her arms when he began to slide her nightgown off. "The doctor just kept saying he knew what was best," she grumbled. "That it was healthy and safe. But I didn't like it. I think if you put your foot down too, he'd listen to you."

Ned gave her a small smile. "I know exactly how stubborn you can be," he murmured. "I'm surprised he didn't listen to you."

"Well," Nancy sighed. "I believed him. But I've talked to other women, and now I'm more confident. I wasn't before. I was so terrified that something would go wrong."

"I remember," Ned nodded. "But you were fine, love. You were so good with them, even before they were born."

"And so were you," she murmured, gazing up into his eyes. "You are so incredible with them, Ned. I can't wait to see them open presents on Christmas morning."

Ned smiled at her. During his lunch break, Mr. Lewis at the furniture store had called to say the television Ned had ordered had come in, and Ned was going to surprise his wife with the gift. He still couldn't quite believe it. Both of them had grown up listening to the radio, just as their children were now. "Neither can I, love," he told her softly.

Then she reclined onto her pillow and reached for him, drawing him down to her, and Ned obliged. He could still taste the champagne on her lips, and his hips settled against hers as she wrapped a leg around him. Usually when they made love it was quietly and with part of their attention on listening for their children. Since they had the house to themselves, he could focus entirely on his wife and how good it felt to stroke her soft skin and feel her shiver against his touch.

"I love you," she whispered.

"And I love you," Ned replied, and kissed her again. "Oh, honey, I love you so much."

She sighed with pleasure when Ned slipped her panties off, and he chuckled. She didn't seem to like them very much. "Sweetheart, you know..."

"Yes, I know," she replied, and cupped his cheek. "But I like to dress up for my husband."

"And I'd rather you come to bed naked than wear something uncomfortable."

Her smile widened into a grin. "I think the important part of that statement was my coming to bed naked."

Ned shrugged, then ran his palm down her side, slowly. "I love you like this," he murmured. "And I love you no matter what you wear because this is what you look like underneath."

He gently rubbed his palm over her belly, and Nancy's legs drew up a little. "It feels like such a miracle," he murmured. "Think we'll have twins again?"

Nancy shook her head. "Or at least I hope not," she told him. "If it ends up that way, so be it, but three sounds perfect."

"To me too," Ned said. "We're evenly matched now. With another baby, we'll be three against two."

She laid her hand over his, resting over her belly. "So you've already decided this one is a boy?"

"Who can say?" Ned leaned down and kissed her belly. "As long as he or she is healthy and just as beautiful as Maggie and Mike, I'll be happy too."

In the back of his mind, Ned had always thought that a good girl would be shy and reluctant, but then Nancy was unlike any girl he had ever known. She was concerned about doing what she perceived as the right and proper thing; she was unfailingly polite and well-mannered, but when they were alone together...

There were no words for the way it was between them. As far as Ned was concerned, what happened between them in the privacy of their bedroom was always between them and them alone. Some nights Ned just wanted to feel her close to him, and she obliged him then. She held him and spoke softly to him, and the face he had to wear in front of everyone else sometimes slipped away just a little. He had shared so much with her in their letters, so many of his fears and so much of his pain, and he had felt exposed to her long before she had ever seen him naked.

He had learned how to love her, in the small apartment they had shared in Emersonville when they were first married, in the apartment at his parents' house, while the twins were napping and they were both exhausted. He was so proud of the woman he had married. His mother had kept the household for his father, and he had always imagined that his wife would be just the same, but Nancy wasn't like that. She was home to put dinner on the table, and she was a wonderful mother to their children, but she had found a career that made her happy, too.

And while Nancy very much wanted to be the good, proper woman, Ned had seen another woman make some remark about how Nancy couldn't be a real mother if she had a job. Nancy had delivered the most polite, even-toned put-down Ned had ever heard, and the other woman had blushed to the roots of her hair in embarrassment. But Nancy had been right. Her children were happy and healthy, her husband was happy and healthy, and her work made her happy too. Nancy highly doubted, she told the other woman, that her husband wanted her home, bored and miserable.

Ned didn't. He definitely didn't want that. He loved to see her happy, and living close to their parents meant their children were able to see their grandparents often—and, not quite as often as Ned wanted, it meant nights like tonight.

Afterward Ned rolled onto his side, catching his breath. Her eyes were closed, her face flushed, and when Ned settled beside her again she nestled against him, still trying to catch her own breath. Her body looked so pale and lovely in the moonlight. She was so beautiful that he wished he could paint her with any justice, but he could never trace the sweet lines of her with enough fidelity.

After a long moment she roused, nuzzling against him, and drew a long breath. "Oh, Ned," she moaned, blinking at him as he drew the covers up over them both. "Oh, love. Come here."

He obliged her, and she slumped against him with a delighted sigh, her body nestled against his. "Ned," she murmured.

"Hmm?" He gently pushed her hair from her temple and kissed her there.

"Mmm. I can barely summon the strength to breathe," she chuckled. "I love you."

"I love you too," Ned murmured, and she cuddled close to him, putting her arm around him as he pressed his face against the crown of her head, drawing in the scent of her perfume as he drifted off to blissfully undisturbed sleep.

The following evening, Michael and Margaret were tucked into their beds, but that in itself had been quite the accomplishment. The twins had put out cookies and milk for Santa, but they wanted to stay awake and see him visit and leave presents. They were so excited at the thought of Christmas morning that Nancy and Ned had waited until long after putting them to bed to get up. Finally, finally, their son and daughter were asleep, their faces blank and angelic as they dreamed.

Nancy was wrapped in a warm fluffy red robe with matching slippers, and Ned in his navy one, as they worked on assembling the last few presents. Though they were trying to be quiet, Ned had turned on the radio and Christmas carols played very quietly into the peace. Through the windows Nancy could see fresh snowfall, the blue-white blanket of their backyard in the moonlight. Inside their home was snug and warm, and while she occasionally felt the chill in the gaps of her robe and on her ankles, her mug of warm cocoa was doing wonders.

Ned finally sat back with a sigh, reaching for his own mug of cocoa, and Nancy looked up from the dollhouse she was assembling to look at his project. What she saw made her chuckle. Ned's parents were giving Michael a fire truck and a bulldozer for Christmas, and so Ned had constructed his own "street" for the trucks using Nancy's scavenged shoeboxes. He had cut appropriate gaps and drawn a wide road, and they could be reassembled any way Mike wished to make a path, much like his train tracks.

"Did you remember the building blocks?" Nancy asked softly, as she placed a small faux-iron bedframe just-so in one of the tiny bedrooms.

Ned finished his sip of cocoa, then headed to their room to grab the twin pails. Maggie enjoyed the blocks just as much as her brother did, and so this year they were each receiving a bucket.

When they were finally finished arranging it all, Nancy and Ned sat down on the couch and gazed down at it with no small wonder. A large package had appeared behind the tree earlier that day, and Nancy had been given strict orders to leave it alone. She was intrigued by it, as Ned had doubtless known she would be.

Nancy's own presents to him were rather small—a bottle of aftershave with a woodsy scent she adored on him, a lovely thick muffler to replace the one he had misplaced a week earlier, a leather wallet with a special note for him inside—but privately she thought her news about her pregnancy might be the more important gift. Ned had waited on her practically hand and foot during her pregnancy with the twins, and she didn't doubt that he would be just as conscientious for this one.

Ned wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I think we've outdone ourselves," he murmured, and kissed her temple.

Nancy smiled. "Definitely," she murmured. "But it's just... I don't know. I love them so much, and I just want them to have everything I could possibly give them..."

"I know exactly what you mean," Ned murmured against her skin. "Although that does explain all the cookies..."

"They're so cute with frosting all over their faces."

Ned smiled. "Speaking of..." He picked up the plate of cookies the twins had left out. "Mrs. Claus?"

"Mr. Claus," she replied, and they each took a cookie.

When they finished off their mugs of cocoa too, Nancy was feeling tired. Christmas Eve had been full of last-minute preparations and grocery shopping, and Nancy had already prepared the food she would be taking to her in-laws' for their family celebration. The twins had helped too, in their way, but a day spent with them always left her feeling utterly exhausted. The warm milk in the cocoa was just the last straw.

"Finished?"

"Mmm-hmm," Nancy murmured, and Ned picked up their mugs and took them to the sink to wash out. Nancy rose and walked over to the radio to turn it off so they could go to bed, but when Ned walked back in she was still standing beside it. "White Christmas" had just begun, and she looked up at her husband with her eyes gleaming.

Ned gazed at her without speaking for a moment, then walked over to her, opening his arms. She sighed as she stepped into them, and they began to sway together to the low melancholy sound of Bing Crosby's voice.

Nancy rested her cheek against her husband's shoulder, savoring the warm solid bulk of him through his robe. He held her close and she sighed as she relaxed into his embrace. "I heard this song for the first time the first Christmas you were gone," she murmured. "It made me think of you with such longing. With every letter I wrote you, I always wanted it to be the last one; whenever I saw your handwriting on an envelope, it was nowhere near as good as seeing your face, but it helped."

Ned sighed, too. "In my dreams I always wanted this, exactly this," he murmured. "The woman I loved in my arms. Our children asleep and eager to open their presents in the morning. Being with my family. Being here and home with you and knowing that everyone I loved was safe and happy, and that when I woke up, the dream wouldn't be over. And everything I wanted... it was easier to pour it out with pen and paper than it ever was to say it to you."

Nancy moved back, her body still swaying with her husband's. "And is that still true now?"

Ned shook his head. "I hope you know how much I love you," he murmured. "I try to say it every day, every time I kiss you, every time I hug you, every time I hold you. I think it and feel it with every beat of my heart, but I can't say it nearly so often as that." He smiled at her. "But I love you so much, Nancy. More than words, beyond reason, so fiercely that sometimes it takes my breath away."

"And I love you," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair. "Forever. With all of me, everything I have and all that I am. When you came home, it was the only Christmas present I would ever need, for the rest of my life. Without you..." She shook her head. "I would never have been whole again. You have given me such love that I can't imagine how I ever was able to live without it."

He smiled at her. "Because we're two parts of a whole, you and I," he murmured.

She raised her arm and he raised his, and they intertwined their fingers with their forearms and the pale scars touching. She could feel his pulse beating faintly beneath his skin, and then he leaned down to give her a long, soft kiss.

"We are," she whispered. "And I'm so grateful that you're by my side."

They kept swaying slowly together until the song ended. Then Ned leaned over and turned off the radio. Nancy was still gripping his hand, but she was so tired...

She had her eyes closed when she heard him chuckle. "My sweetheart is exhausted, hmm," he murmured. She didn't have time to respond before he was sweeping her up into his arms, and Ned was smiling when her eyes flew open in shock.

"Ned," she squealed quietly in protest.

"You're in a delicate way, sweetheart," he murmured, a twinkle in his eye. "Let me do this."

They turned off the lights and he carried her to their bed, and Nancy relaxed against the mattress with a sigh. Her robe was so warm around her, but she finally summoned the strength to shrug out of it and let her slippers drop to the floor before sliding beneath the covers.

When Ned joined her Nancy cuddled against him immediately, letting out a soft contented sigh. "I love you," she whispered. "So much, love."

He kissed the crown of her head. "And I love you," he murmured, stroking her hair. She felt him relax against her. "Merry Christmas, beloved."

"Merry Christmas," she whispered with a smile, already drifting off.

She felt like only a few hours had passed, and maybe they had, when she was awakened by quiet giggling. Michael and Margaret were standing beside the bed, and Margaret had her palm on the mattress, only a few inches away from her mother. "Mommy!" she stage-whispered. "Mommy, it's Christmas! Santa came!"

"Come on!" Michael begged, impatient.

The twins were running in dizzy circles around the living room as Nancy and Ned rose and stumbled to the kitchen to make their coffee, and Ned pulled out the camera they had bought the year before. Then they gave Michael and Margaret permission to start opening presents.

Soon the entire living room was blanketed in torn paper and ribbon, and the twins were squealing with excitement over dolls, miniature trucks, stuffed animals, building blocks, coloring books and puzzles, their stockings full of candy and fruit and nuts. Nancy was feeling marginally more awake when they discovered the presents their parents had wrapped for each other. They brought them over carefully, watching with wide, delighted eyes.

Ned thanked Nancy for the presents she had given him with a smile, drawing her close to him for a kiss that made the twins cover their eyes, but Margaret was giggling. One of her presents had been a tiara with a short length of tulle behind it, and it was perched on her golden hair; Nancy thought she looked adorable, and asked Ned to take a photograph of her.

Ned's presents to Nancy included a pair of beautiful tan leather gloves lined in cashmere, and Nancy opened that smaller present first, savoring the anticipation of opening the larger one. She had a feeling she already knew what it was, but she hadn't peeked.

When she tore the paper away, the children gasped in delighted surprise. "Daddy!" Michael said. "Daddy, look!"

Ned chuckled. "I know."

The twins had seen televisions before, on display in furniture stores, and had been entranced by them. Maggie clapped and squealed.

Then she turned to her father, her eyes wide. "It's for Mommy?"

"It's for all of us," Ned chuckled. "And Mommy too."

Then he asked the twins to help them clean up all the torn wrapping paper, and they ran around the living room like tiny dervishes, collecting it and throwing it away with giggles. After breakfast, Nancy heated up the dishes she was taking to her in-laws' for their Christmas lunch while Ned helped the children dress to head to Grandma and Papa's house, Michael in a navy sweater with khaki trousers, Margaret in a green plaid jumper with a white shirt underneath and a matching bow in her fine golden hair. Nancy put on a warm and festive red day dress while the casserole dishes were in the oven, and Ned put on a navy sweater and khaki trousers.

Nancy chuckled at him when she saw what he was wearing. "Well, honey, if you wanted to be Mike's twin..."

Ned looked down at his outfit and chuckled too. "The gray slacks, then."

Nancy nodded, but smiled fondly at him. He put on the aftershave she had given him too, and that made her want to bury her face against him and take a deep breath.

Each twin was allowed to bring a toy, and Ned packed up the cardboard "streets" he had made as well. On the way to his parents' house, Nancy looked down at her belly and wondered how she would tell the twins they would have a baby brother or sister. They were intensely curious, the pair of them. Nancy couldn't clearly remember how she had been told about how babies were made. For all she knew she never had been told. She made a mental note to ask Ned what he thought.

James Nickerson opened the door on their arrival, and both the twins squealed "Papa!" in greeting. He grinned at his grandchildren, reaching down to sweep Margaret into his arms, and he carried her inside and took Michael's hand in his own.

"Have you had a good Christmas morning?"

The twins babbled back to him in response as Nancy and Ned gathered the casserole dishes to take inside. Edith held the door open for them, and after they had put the dishes down, she gave Ned a welcoming hug, then wrapped Nancy in her arms too.

"Merry Christmas," she said with a delighted grin.

"Merry Christmas," Nancy replied with a smile. "Anything I can help with?"

James and Ned kept the twins occupied, by building a path with the cardboard roads and leading the trucks around it. When Nancy saw it, she could almost predict what was going to happen—Edith saw what her grandchildren, husband and son were doing, and dusted the flour off her hands so she could get her camera.

The spread was enormous, once Carson and Hannah arrived with her contribution and the eight of them sat down at the Nickersons' dining room table. Maggie and Mike had practically tackled their Grandpa and Hannah on their arrival, and they kept all the adults entertained by talking about their Christmas gifts, and their account of playing with Patricia and Tommy and Barbara the day before. They were eager to show the adults the pictures they had drawn for them, too, and to share the cookies they helped decorate.

Predictably, as soon as the meal was over and the plates were cleared, Maggie and Mike were both tired. They were just as stubbornly fighting it, though, and Ned took them in the living room with him and their grandfathers just so they could rest their eyes for a little while. He exchanged a smile with Nancy before he left, and when Nancy turned back to the sink, she saw Edith smiling at her.

"Thank you so much for making the mashed potatoes, sweetheart. They were delicious."

"Oh, it was nothing," Nancy demurred. "The turkey you made was spectacular. I couldn't believe how wonderful it tasted."

With the three of them working on putting away the leftovers and cleaning the dishes, the work didn't take long at all. Hannah claimed the rocking chair, and from the kitchen Nancy and Edith looked at Mike and Maggie, drowsing as they slumped between their father and grandfathers. Carson had his arm around Michael, and James had his around Margaret, as they and Ned talked. The radio played Christmas carols from the corner.

Edith was smiling at the scene when Nancy glanced over at her. "They're so precious," Edith murmured. "And so very curious too."

Nancy smiled. "They are that," she agreed.

"I suppose you and Ned are happy with two."

Nancy caught the faint hopeful note in Edith's voice. Michael and Margaret had spent the first year of their lives at the Nickersons', and Edith had always been happy to rock them to sleep when they were cranky or colicky, to play with them, to burp them and change them. Nancy had been happy for the help, and just as happy that Edith enjoyed it so much. For a time, they hadn't been sure if she would ever be a grandmother.

"We are happy with two," Nancy confirmed with a smile. "They're so perfect that we fear lightning wouldn't strike twice. But we have been talking about maybe having another one."

Edith wrapped her arm around Nancy's shoulders and gave her a happy hug. "Oh, that would be perfect," she said with a smile. "Maggie and Mike really are so very sweet, and another little one... oh, that smell, baby powder and milk... oh, I've missed it."

Nancy chuckled. "I would hardly know how to get through it without you there," she said. "You were almost my right hand when they were babies."

"Well, you had two," Edith pointed out. "It would be difficult under any circumstance. I'm sure one would be a breeze for you."

Nancy shook her head. "And you were so good with them. If you hadn't been there when Michael had colic, I would have torn every bit of my hair out."

Edith was smiling. "I was just glad I could help. You and Ned have done such a great job with them."

Nancy paused, then. Michael had slumped onto his father's lap, and Ned picked him up and cradled him, brushing his hair off his forehead. Then he frowned, resting the heel of his hand against his son's flushed cheek, feeling his temperature. He took Michael's socks off—his shoes had come off when they were playing—and his sweater, leaving him in his miniature undershirt; then Michael drowsily slumped against him again.

"He's done such an amazing job because of you," Nancy murmured, when she saw that Ned wasn't alarmed over Michael. Apparently he was just flushed, not feverish. "Because you raised him so well. Thank you for letting me have him. You and James have been so wonderful to us."

Edith smiled. "You have his heart, Nancy," she murmured. "You have for the longest time, and I was happy to see him happy with you. I think you understand it now, even if you didn't before, how you can feel infinite love for someone—and your love can be just as infinite for the children that person gives you. I love James, and I always will, but my son... I've always wanted to see him settled, safe and happy, and he is. My grandchildren... to have another sweet little girl in the family."

Maggie sighed, tucking her legs up and nestling against her grandfather's side.

"Did Ned tell you about my gift?"

"The television set? Oh, yes. He was so excited about it." Edith smiled. "James isn't too sure about purchasing one for us, so maybe you can help me convince him that it would be a good idea."

Nancy chuckled. "I'm not even sure that it is yet," she admitted. "Maybe after a few weeks it won't seem strange to watch a picture instead of listening to the radio."

All the excitement had exhausted Michael and Margaret, and after they ate dinner cobbled from leftovers, Nancy and Ned said their goodbyes, hugging Ned's parents and Nancy's father. Hannah scooped up each twin and bestowed a smacking kiss, telling them that the next time they visited their Grandpa, she would be sure to make them a treat.

Once they were home, Nancy checked on Michael again. He still felt a little warmer than usual, but otherwise he seemed okay. She wet a washcloth in cold water and bathed his face with it, and he sighed.

"Are you hot, baby?"

"I'm okay," Michael said.

"Hmm. Maybe some medicine..."

Michael shook his head. He hated taking medicine, and Nancy didn't blame him. She had always hated that, too.

"Okay. Maybe a little apple juice, then? But if you start feeling sick, tell me, okay? The medicine will help you feel better."

After the juice, Michael went to bed easily enough. Margaret was exhausted too, and when Nancy went into her room to check her temperature and how she was feeling, she had her new stuffed bear cuddled to her.

"Feeling okay, sweetheart?"

"Mmm," Maggie nodded. "Sleepy."

"That's good." Nancy stroked her hair from her forehead, and laid her fingers against her cheek. She seemed okay too. "Sleep well, baby. I love you."

Nancy found Ned in the living room, hooking up the new television set. "You just couldn't wait, could you," she murmured, chuckling.

Ned gave her a sheepish smile. "It's like a new toy," he said apologetically.

"And we'll have plenty of time to play with it tomorrow," she told him, walking over to him and stroking her palm over his shoulder blades. "Come to bed, love."

They turned off the lights and headed to bed. Nancy opened her dresser to find her long-sleeved pajama top, and saw the tied bundle of letters in the corner of her drawer. Ned had kept his letters to her too, and together they made a significant stack. She smiled at them, then slipped into the top, going to their bed with her long legs bare.

One day, if Margaret asked Nancy about how she and Ned had met, how they had fallen in love, Nancy could show her the letters. The paper she had stroked with her fingertips, the ink her eyes had traced so many times, the words that even now seemed to echo in her heart. For Margaret's entire life, for Michael's entire life too, her parents had been there, and she thought they already knew how much their parents loved each other. If anything, Margaret might be surprised at how tentative they had been at first. Now the twins just giggled if they walked in and saw their parents dancing to the song on the radio, or if Ned ducked in and kissed Nancy's neck while she was washing dishes and made her laugh and squirm, and they weren't mortified when they came into their parents' bedroom and found them cuddled up together in bed.

Nancy wanted to show her children the same love, the same happiness, that her parents had shown her when she was a child, that her father still showed her now. Even when she had a long day at work, when she came home to them, she played with them and let them cuddle up with her on the couch to read to them, she let them help her make dinner, and she told them how much she loved them when she tucked them into bed at night.

She had no words for how thankful she was that Ned had been around for their entire lives. Edith had been a tremendous help when the twins had been small, and James too, but she couldn't imagine raising them alone. She was so grateful she hadn't had to do that.

The room was chilly and so were the sheets, but Ned was so warm against her, and she cuddled against him with a happy sigh. "Oh, it will be so painful to go back to work in a few days," Ned murmured. "Tomorrow let's all make snow angels and—and snow cream? And hot cocoa."

"When we're not watching the television?" Nancy teased him.

"Oh, I'm sure it will be fun for a few hours," Ned murmured, and kissed her neck. "But I've never known Maggie and Mike to want to stay inside for longer than three hours at a stretch, when they were awake anyway."

"Mmm. True." She giggled when he nuzzled against her, rolling onto her back, and Ned rolled with her, carefully to keep from crushing her. "Thank you, by the way. It was a very sweet gift."

"Very sweet?"

"Mmm-hmm." Nancy closed her eyes, running her fingers through his hair as he kissed her earlobe.

"Now... I seem to find that there's one last gift I somehow forgot to unwrap..." He trailed kisses down to the opening of her shirt, then loosed the first button. Nancy reached for the quilt and pulled it up to keep the draft from her newly-bared skin, then joined him beneath it.

"You mean the same gift I give you every Christmas?" she whispered. In the dim light from the bedside lamp, she could see him smiling, and she smiled back at him.

He nodded. "My beautiful wife," he whispered, and kept his gaze locked to hers as he opened her pajama top. "You and our children are the best presents I could ever have."

She nodded, bringing her hand up to caress his face. "I love you more than I could ever say," she said softly. "More than I ever knew was possible."

After, he moved onto his side, cuddling up with her for a moment, and she rested her forehead against his chest. "Ned," she whispered, toying with his hair. "Oh, love."

"Yes," he murmured. "Yes, darling. I love you so much."

His arm was looped around her waist. She clung to her husband until he moved away from her to hastily dress, and then after he returned to her, pulling her to him again, and both of them shivered together against the chill of the night.

She pulled the quilt up and they moved under it like children, chuckling as she nestled against him and he stroked her temple. She felt warm and safe and loved, and so happy that just the sheer knowledge of it almost ached. In the darkness, just feeling him breathe against her, feeling his chest expand and fall, was enough to soothe her to sleep.

Some nights, like tonight, she didn't want to miss a single second of it. The scar on the inside of her forearm was warm where it was in contact with Ned's skin, and she remembered who she had been while they were apart like a troubled distant friend. As much as it had hurt, as terribly as she had missed him, over the distance and through the letters they had been able to fall in love slowly, and she was glad for that. She couldn't be more proud of the man she had married, the man he had become.

Ned sighed softly. "Love you," he murmured, nestling against her, his voice slow with exhaustion.

"Love you," she whispered, kissing the flesh just over his heart, and when she closed her eyes, she began to drift off immediately, her pulse matched to his.