She had not seen him in months and Nancy yearned for the tenderness of his touch, the comforting sound of his voice and the warmth of his arms wrapped tightly around her, but at this point, would settle gratefully for mere acknowledgement of her existence. As it was, she had not spoken to Ned since that chilly December day, when in quiet resignation he told her that it was over, that he couldn't trust her anymore, that it was better this way. After weeks of tension and bitter arguments, Nancy was hardly surprised when their labored relationship finally came to an end, but it still hurt deeply and even now, Nancy could hardly bring herself to think of that day without becoming teary-eyed, knowing it was her selfish acts that had ultimately torn them apart.

Guilt stricken, Nancy had given Ned the clean break he so desperately desired, though at times the urge to call him, to talk to him, had been painfully strong. Sometime later, the devastating news filtered through, via a reluctant Jan, that Ned had a new girlfriend, a fellow student named Rachael. A blonde, obviously beautiful girlfriend, Nancy had reflected miserably at the time, bitterly imagining her replacement.

Rachael was a girl who apparently didn't break Ned's heart or head off on a case at a moment's notice, sabotaging much longed for plans and vacations, leaving her boyfriend disappointed yet again. Ever sage in affairs of the heart, Bess had advised Nancy to gather every last remnant of their broken relationship and dump them, better still burn them, but Nancy couldn't. The handful of text messages she had saved on her phone and the much treasured collection of cards, gifts and letters gathered in a box under the bed were her last links to Ned, the only concrete proof that what they shared ever even existed.

xxxxxx

"Bess, I am so not doing this," Nancy informed her friend resolutely as she absently twisted a stray piece of tagliatelle around her fork. "I still can't believe you set me up with some random guy you work with. What the hell were you thinking?"

"Number one, Nan, he's not just some random guy. I've known Jack for months," Bess replied pointedly, waving aside her friend's concerns as she took a long sip from her frosty drink. "And, number two, he's freaking hot," she declared sternly, her eyes widening for emphasis. "I'm doing you a favour. If I wasn't dating Brian, I would so be all over that myself."

"Yeah, how is the mysterious Brian," Nancy cut in curiously. "You've been dating him for weeks and we still haven't met him yet," Nancy observed slyly, exchanging a smile with George.

"Yeah, Bess," George chimed in teasingly. "Is the boy having a bad hair week, or what? Usually on a night like this, you'd be parading the poor guy around like a piece of meat, making sure that no other girl got her claws into him. What's the deal?"

"Funny, you guys," Bess replied, shooting daggers at the girls, who had dissolved into fits of giggles. "Don't worry, Nancy, you will meet him, on your date," she informed her friend with a smile, putting unnecessary emphasis on the word. "Now quit changing the subject, you're meeting this guy and that's that," she finished, her voice taking on a no nonsense tone that was not to be trifled with.

"Oh, Bess," Nancy pleaded, gazing imploringly at her friend. "Please don't make me do this, I'll be mortified. Anyway, I've already made plans for the weekend, so I'm not sure I'll be able to go anyway," Nancy added none too convincingly, nervously pushing the remains of her pasta around the plate.

"What plans?" Bess demanded dubiously, peering at Nancy over the rim of her glass. "If they include television and a bottle of wine, then you're going on this date with Jack," she instructed Nancy firmly. "Besides," she added with a mischievous grin. "I told him you were definitely going, so you don't really have a choice. The restaurant is booked and everything."

"Okay, Bess, you got me on the whole wine and television thing, but in fairness, I haven't had a proper night's sleep in weeks," Nancy persisted, defensively. "The case has me totally wiped and I really, really deserve a night to chill out," she protested, referring to a recent case involving priceless works of art stolen from a prominent museum. "Come on, George, tell her," she proclaimed desperately, turning to her dark-haired friend for support.

"For once, I have to agree with Bess," George replied, slyly. "Nan, staying in on a Saturday night is pathetic. Get a hold of yourself."

"Okay, okay, I'll go on the stupid date," Nancy relented with a sigh as she rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Anything for a quiet life," she muttered under her breath, turning her attention half-heartedly to the cold remains of her pasta dish.

xxxxxx

The entire contents of her wardrobe heaped in a colorful explosion on the bed and her reddish-blonde hair still clinging in wet tendrils to her face, Nancy paced the room anxiously, cursing the butterflies fluttering in her stomach at the thought of the night ahead. In spite of Bess's fervent assurances that Jack was cute, funny and sweet, it still felt forced and utterly unnatural to go on a date with a guy she had never even met before.

"Hey, Nan, what's going on?" Bess demanded impatiently, as she poked her head of honey-blonde curls around the door. "We're going in ten, no, make that five minutes," she informed her friend urgently, a panicked expression crossing her face as she glanced at her watch. "Nancy Drew, I'm going to kill you if you make me late for my date with Brian. Why the hell aren't you ready?"

"I have no clue what to wear," Nancy admitted in defeat, gesturing at the pile of discarded clothes spilling onto the floor. "And I really, really need the help of my best friend."

"Okay," Bess sighed in annoyance, though she cast a sympathetic look at her friend. "You have five minutes and then we have to go, even if your make-up's a mess and your hair is standing on end," she added warningly.

"Deal," Nancy laughed.

Her forehead creased in concentration, Bess expertly sorted through the chaos, making random suggestions while Nancy turned her attention to her hair, running a comb through the horribly tangled damp locks.

Fishing out a pale blue dress from the depths of the pile, Bess handed it to Nancy, a triumphant expression on her face. "What about this?" she suggested with a smile. "You love this dress and the blue really brings out your eyes."

"You think?" Nancy replied doubtfully as her gaze swept over the length of the dress. "It's awfully short, Bess. I don't want him to think I'm a slut... Not that I care what he thinks," she added hurriedly, purposely ignoring the smirk that spread across her friend's face.

"Oh, God, I love this," Bess cooed enthusiastically, pulling out a

black silk halter-neck dress and displaying it dramatically for Nancy's benefit. "It looks great on you and you haven't worn it in ages, so it will feel like new."

"No, I don't think so, Bess," Nancy said, dismissing the dress offhand and accepting the next suggestion gratefully, aware that her friend's patience was rapidly dwindling.

In truth, there was nothing wrong with the black dress. The silky fabric was both soft and luxurious and clung flatteringly to her curves. The trouble was that it had been a favorite of Ned's, a dress that had attracted much attention from him whenever she'd worn it, and as silly as it seemed, it felt almost like a betrayal to wear it for some other guy.

"Okay, you look amazing, Nan," Bess smiled approvingly, delicately dabbing some sticky gloss onto her lips. "Jack won't know what hit him when he sees you coming."

"Oh, stop, Bess, you're making me blush," Nancy joked, gathering her keys and wallet and piling them into her bag.

"Nancy, come on, we'd better go," Bess said anxiously, grabbing hold of her friend and pulling her towards the door. "We're supposed to meet the guys at eight and it's already almost five past. You know, you're one of my best friends in the whole world," she sighed, clutching Nancy's hand dramatically. "But if you make me miss out on this date with the love of my life, I will never, ever forgive you."

"Okay, I'm ready," Nancy declared, taking a deep breath to quell her growing nerves before hurrying out the door.

xxxxxxx

The bar, a fashionably decorated affair heaving with model-beautiful girls, was typical of the places Bess normally frequented and George openly despised. Perched at the bar, Nancy warily eyed her drink before turning her attention to her date.

"Something wrong with your drink?" he asked, staring at her, a smile flirting with his lips.

"Well, it's green for starters," Nancy began, poking at the offending drink with her straw. "And there's some stuff floating in it that I don't even recognize."

"You know, I've read about you," he commented, shaking his head in amusement, "and you've dealt with some really violent, dangerous characters."

"Yeah, so?" Nancy returned with an indifferent shrug.

"It's just funny, that's all, that the famous detective is scared of some chopped fruit and a paper umbrella." Jack remarked, teasingly.

"I didn't say I was scared," Nancy replied defensively, punching Jack playfully on the arm. "I'm just saying that it's annoying and slightly weird. Give me a long island iced tea any day of the week."

Jack was a wonderful date and as much as she hated to admit it, Nancy was having a great night. He was funny, cute and smart, her father would almost certainly approve of his Ivy League education, and he radiated such self-confidence that any woman would find him attractive. On paper, he seemed the perfect guy, but in her heart, Nancy knew there was something missing. In all his perfection, he was not Ned.

As the opening beats of a song spilled onto the crowded dance floor, Nancy heard Bess shriek excitedly. "Oh, my, God, I love this song. Come on, Nancy, you're going dancing with me," she demanded, smiling apologetically at Jack before grabbing Nancy's hand and pulling her forcefully towards the dance floor.

"Well, come on, what do you think of him?" Bess asked Nancy eagerly as they edged their way through the swaying mass of bodies.

"He's cute," Nancy offered vaguely, sneakily glancing in Jack's direction.

"And?" Bess motioned impatiently for her friend to elaborate.

"And he's smart and he's funny; he's lovely, Bess. What do you want me to say? That I love him and we're getting married?" She chuckled wryly, amused by the girl's keen, borderline obsessive, interest in her love life.

"Yes," Bess answered dreamily. "It would be so much fun. Me and George could be your bridesmaids, although I would have to have some input on the style of the dresses," she added as an afterthought.

"Bess," Nancy snorted, rolling her eyes in frustration. "You do realize I was joking, right? Jack is a lovely person and he's gorgeous, but we are most definitely not getting married."

"Hmm, has he kissed you yet?" Bess cut in, completely undeterred by Nancy's blunt sarcasm. "Because I looked over a while ago and it totally seemed like he was going to."

"Bess, you're unreal," Nancy replied, shaking her head and laughing. "Can we please let the whole Jack obsession thing go, because at the moment you are totally freaking me out."

Laughing, the girls hit the dance floor, Bess desperate to catch the end of the song, when a strange look suddenly passed over her face. Puzzled, Nancy turned around, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the lone figure standing behind her. It was Ned.