A/N: Hi guys! This is my 3rd ND story for the fandom, and I PROMISE this one is lighter. More mystery, less haunting and not-so-scary unsubs! Holiday themed, if you will. I wanted to do a Nancy Drew themed Christmas story, so this is my take on something a little lighter and not quite so dreary. Hope you enjoy! :)

A few hours ago, Nancy Drew's stomach growled. Now though, it was silent. She was past the growling point. She felt a sinking emptiness, like a part of her was gone and she needed to get it back. She was tired and couldn't focus. How was it possible that she ate breakfast just six hours ago, and a snack three hours ago? For as hungry as she was, she might as well have not eaten anything at all. Her stomach let out another violent protest, and she squirmed in the deli's line, doing her best to ignore her gnawing hunger pains at lunch. The Shakespeare themed cafe on the corner adjacent to River Heights' was one of Nancy's favorite corners of heaven. It was where the chattering chefs could be heard from the tables, joking and teasing, or perhaps singing loudly and out of tune, not caring who heard. The food choices were simple, sandwiches, soups, and chips and cookies, and the decor artistic and modeled after the great literary works of William Shakespeare himself. The thirty-three-year-old detective loved it for the people, for the conversations they had and the routine of seeing one another, the chance to make those casual bonds of friendship.

All she knew is that when the sun rises, when those first rays of the day tell her that the day has already become a vibrant scene, she looked forward to being there, to greeting the regulars behind the counter. Nancy watched the man behind the deli counter of her favorite cafe and bookshops carve the meat then put aside one slice. She was curious, her interest piqued. So she asked why it was separated from the other slices he was currently carving to put on her turkey sandwich order. The deli worker answered her questions, tired.

"Boss tells us to throw it away. I'd rather not though; it's a waste of perfectly good food. Sometimes I ask our customers if they want a free slice and they refuse."

After a small pause, the detective and receptionist of the River Heights Police Department asked what was wrong with that particular slice.

"Nothing!" he chirped cheerily. "It's good! You ask my professional opinion; it could be slightly drier, but still good. You want me to throw it on your sandwich, miss?"

She nodded, offering the older man a shy smile.

"Yes, please," she mumbled, shifting her mini black Rosetti crossbody to her other hand, her favorite wallet in her left hand, ready to pay for her lunch order.

"Finally," the man chuckled, breathing a sigh of relief. "Someone with a head of sense on her shoulders. I can tell by that look in your eyes, you don't like to waste perfectly good food neither. World needs more people like you and me, if you ask me," the deli worker joked. He took a minute to fix his gloves and wipe the knife clean. "What else you want on this, miss? Tomato, lettuce, onions, mayo, mustard, the works? Same as usual, miss? I know you come in here a lot, but I gotta ask. The day might come when you change your mind!"

Nancy nodded, grinning. "You know me too well, Sam. How many times I come in here, I always order the Bitter Bread of Banishment from King Richard II?" she teased. "Twice a week I come here, like clockwork every Friday and Saturday, Sammy! I order the same thing every time. Sliced smoked Turkey sandwich with Swiss and Pepperjack cheese, lettuce, mayo, tomato, mayo, mustard, a bag of Lay's baked potato chips, and two chocolate chip cookies, Sam. You ought to know me by now! I'm offended that you even have to ask!"

"Yes, ma'am," he joked, giving the café's best customer an appreciative once-over, admiring her slender form in her green wrap maxi dress. "You got a hot date tonight I don't know about, Miss Drew? What's with the dress? I haven't seen it on you before."

The young detective glanced down at her dress, confused. Gifted to her by her Bess for her birthday in May, she had been looking for an excuse to wear it. The dress itself was a Bohemian style V-neck short sleeve empire waist maxi dress that flowed and breathed with her movements, with a wrap closure. Carefully embroidered Manuka flowers merged with the randomly creased high waistline and hemline. The detailed knit fabric embraced her body, looking effortlessly put together with her simple brown sandals and stud earrings. "Maybe!" Nancy laughed. "Not that it's any of your business, Sam. Tell Henry next time not to wait around for a girl he likes. He waited too long to ask me out! I'm married now, Sam! You know that, Sam I Am!" she joked, flashing the plain yellow gold wedding band she wore on her finger. Sam behind the counter just laughed.

"He'll be so disappointed. I'll tell him you said that, he missed his opportunity," Sam teased. He noticed her wallet in her hand protectively. "Nice sloths, Nancy. Where'd you pick that up, somewhere here in town in one of the shops? You might be the only girl on the entire campus that has a little wallet with sloths on it."

"Bess gave it to me for Christmas, Sam. I'm rather fond of this wallet, so quit commenting on it. I love it, that's all that matters!" Nancy glanced down at her wallet, seeing nothing wrong with it. It often got compliments whenever she took it out to pay for something; it was a good conversation starter. Her best friend, Bess Marvin, had gifted it to her last Christmas. It was a small zipper wallet depicting an adorable family of sloths hanging on tree branches, sleeping, cuddling with their babies. With embossed printing and the leaf shaped clasp to finish off the adorable design, she hadn't gone wrong in picking out her best friend's Christmas gift last year, did she?

She snapped it open, pulling out her purple and orange Discover credit card to pay for her lunch. The wallet was small, only five credit card slots, a clear plastic ID window, and a large money pocket slit. When she flipped it over and unzipped the back, there were two larger compartments for her change and receipts. Nancy stuck her tongue out at Sam as he finished wrapping up her sandwich and cutting it into two halves for her, wrapping it up and bagging it for her. She sighed as she inserted her credit card into the card reader's slot, waving a cheerful hello to another customer that entered the counter behind her, mumbling a hello.

Nancy glanced at the time on her phone. She was running behind, she had exactly ten minutes to get back home before she'd be late for their date. Frank had sounded urgent on the phone when he called, saying she needed to have a bag packed and ready to leave by eight tonight. She removed her credit card from the slot once it dinged, taking care to put the card back in the correct slot. With her, everything had its place. The young detective plunked her wallet back into her simple black crossbody purse, a cute little bag Bess had helped her pick out, a little too enthusiastically, if you were to ask Nancy. The blonde was always insistent on Nancy needing to upgrade her wardrobe, but Bess had happily gone with her to Kohl's, and helped her pick out a mini black crossbody to hold her things, insisting she needed a winter and spring bag. Black for winter, and a fun colorful one for the spring and summer months.

Her detective senses were buzzing, telling her that once again, her husband was planning something for the two of them.

"Can't be as bad as the last vacation we took together, did it?" she murmured to herself, beginning the walk home, fighting against the bitter cold of winter, pulling her pea coat tighter around licked at her face and crept under her clothes, spreading across her skin like the lacy tide on a frigid winter beach. With purple lips tinged with blue and gently chattering teeth she wrapped her thin coat around her tighter. Cold stalked her through the mountain passes like a specter death, the bitter wind laughed as it tore right to her heart and turned her blood to icy sludge. Her muscles began to ache and grind like the cogs in old machine. "Mohonk, Frank! I told you we should have stayed put once we got there. Taken an extended vacation and never come back to River Heights," she chuckled, though her weak little laugh did nothing to quell the haunted look in her eyes. "Let's just hope this vacation doesn't end with a fight for our lives, or our souls," she grumbled darkly as she at last reached their house and flung open the door, relishing the warmth of the fire in the fireplace that her husband had started for her. "Frank?" she called out, her voice echoing throughout the entryway.

No answer.

"In here, Nan!" he called out from the other room, sounding like he was coming from the kitchen. As he walked into the living room, her blood wakes up her brain, though she thought herself already awake. Her smile at seeing her husband grew of its own accord and she could either let Frank Hardy see what he ignited or hide it. Either way, he was the most fun thing in her world. "Are you all packed?" he asked, looking effortlessly handsome in a simple black sweater and jeans. "You aren't, are you?" he scolded, his tone only lightly teasing her.

"Well if you would tell me where we're going, I could be!" she teased, setting down her purse and snaking her arms around her husband's neck, pulling him down slightly into her kiss. "You wouldn't or couldn't tell me much over the phone, but I'm here now, so tell me what's going on!" she protested playfully, pulling back a little to study his face.

"It involves a mystery. You up for it, Miss Drew?" he asked, his eyes twinkling infectiously.

"I never turn down an opportunity to help someone, Frank," she said, her tone serious now. "Who's the client?" she asked, feeling her voice lose its playfulness, replaced with a more solemn business-like tone that reminded her of her father, Carson.

"Some wealthy socialite named Renata. Not the storyteller you met over in Germany, Nance, a different Renata. She owns a big bank in Chicago, asked for you specifically to come up and help locate her missing granddaughter," Frank explained, sitting cross-legged on their bedroom floor's carpet, apparently deciding between two pairs of socks before deciding at last to take both of them.

Nancy stared. "Shouldn't the police be taking care of this? That's a little out of our jurisdiction, isn't it, Frank?" she wondered out loud, feeling her eyes grow wide and round as Frank pulled out a box. "Frank, is that what I think it is?" she asked, suppressing a tiny groan. "Oh, please tell me I don't have to do this. No, no, no, absolutely not!" She folded her arms across her chest and stuck out her tongue at her husband and scrunched her nose, making a disgusted face at Frank, who merely laughed in response.

"You would think so, but she claims they came and took one look around the place and left. She's not too confident in their abilities, and quite frankly, neither am I," muttered Frank, a dark shadow crossing over his handsome features. Nancy suppressed a light laugh. "And yeah, I'm afraid so, love! You don't have a choice, Nance," Frank laughed, snorting at his wife's expression of disdain. "She wanted you to go undercover, Nance. We're not to use our real names. If anyone plugged the name "Nancy Drew" into a search engine, your cover and mine would be blown in an instant. Renata was insistent on the hair too, Nance. I'm sorry, but you have to do it."

"Ugh, why?" Nancy groaned and rolled her eyes, snatching the box of L'Oreal Paris hair dye out of Frank's hands, perhaps with more force than was necessary, given she almost crumpled the box. Though she didn't want to do this, even Nancy had to admit the color itself either Frank or Bess had picked out was a gorgeous rich dark brown color, a dark ash brown, level 4A. If she knew her friends, and she did, Bess had chosen this, not Frank. Nancy would be the first to admit though Frank had good taste, hair was not Hardy's specialty. No, this little scheme had Bess Marvin written all over it. She made a mental note to heavily scold Bess later at her first opportunity. The dark brown color would be drastically different than her natural redheaded tresses, which she currently wore cut in a stylish long bob in soft layers that fell to her collarbones, framing her thin face in gentle layers. "Once was enough, Frank! Why do I have to dye my hair? What's wrong with just using fake names?"

"Honey, you know more than I do the benefits of going undercover. People know you by your face, your hair! We change the hair and our names, just for this job, we change who we are. We want to find this girl, we have to blend in, not draw attention to ourselves, and I hate to say it, but your red hair, as much as I love it on you, Nan, it draws attention to you, and that's the last thing Renata wants. We do this, we get in, and we get out, find the girl, go home. She thinks you and I will have better luck finding her than the authorities because she's apparently close to our ages, late twenties, early thirties, from what she told me on the phone. Oh, and did I mention this is a job that pays extremely well?" he grinned, flashing her that charming Frank Hardy smile he knew she had never been able to resist.

"How much?" Nancy shot back hotly, one hand on her hip, scowling at the box of hair dye in her hand. Permanent, she thought, disgusted. If I do this, it's going to require an expensive salon visit to get my hair back to normal after this. I'm still not over what happened the last time!

"Enough for us to take an extended vacation to the Bahamas and never come back, if that's what we want. She offered us $20k to find her granddaughter, Nance. We could move out of here and into a new place if that's what we wanted, or put it towards actually retiring, if that's what we choose to do," Frank grinned, reaching up and wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning down to kiss his wife. He kissed her and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek as their breaths mingled. She ran her fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and she could feel the beating of his heart against her chest. Frank's kiss stole the words Nancy didn't need to say. In that silence all of their secrets were laid bare, all of their passions and the spark of love that existed between them. In that moment, in his love, Nancy was strong. One kiss and she had the courage to do what had to be done. The fireplace mimicked the warmth of the day. Nancy and Frank sat cozy by the flame, their features illuminated by the flickering light, the only one in the room. Though the air isn't smokey they could smell the pine as it burned, just a faint fragrance to reassure their senses that there will be comfort in the long bitter winter.

"Nancy?" said Frank, still sounding like he was teasing her when they broke apart from their kiss at last. He smiled at his wife and brushed a lock of her hair back from her shoulders.

"Yeah, Frank?" she murmured sleepily, burying her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his musky scent and the scent of the pine from the roaring fireplace.

"Get to dyeing," he grinned.