"Ow, ow, fuck this hurts! Holy crap, Hannah! This—this really hurts! God, Han, when I do get that spinal tap thing?" Nancy moaned, not bothering to mind her language in front of her father's middle-aged housekeeper. She would apologize for it later. Hannah Gruen stood in the doorway of Carson's daughter's private hospital room, courtesy of Renata Graham, their room and hospital expenses already covered in addition to their fee. Hannah Gruen was a woman in her late fifties who had seen a lot in her years, her face lined but still pretty, her auburn hair cut to her chin in soft layers. Hannah lingered in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest as she sunk into her sweater for warmth, watching as now thirty-four-year-old Nancy Drew paced the hospital room in agitation, and back and forth she went, over and over again, the attempt to keep moving and distracting herself not working. Hannah, having known Nancy all her life, knew the kind of woman Nancy Drew was. Forever the organizer and a simple woman, Nancy was a woman who liked to be in charge, and something like this just wasn't possible for her to take control of. At some point, she would just have to allow nature to take its course and her body would know what to do. But getting her to listen? Another story entirely…

Her gaze flitted back and forth from Nancy to Frank, to Bess and George who were entertaining themselves by spinning around the hospital room in the wheeled office chairs, bored and ready for things to commence so they could meet their new godchild. Hannah rolled her eyes at the childish display of behavior from Nancy's friends. Nancy and Frank had agreed there was no one better to raise their child than either Bess or George if something should happen to both of them.

The pain of her contractions during her labor was a prison for her mind. In the last few months of her pregnancy had gone so smoothly, up to this part. She and Frank had not thought ahead to this part. In that jail cell of fear and confusion, the time passed without poor Nancy being able to keep track. Her stomach tightened, she heard her own scream without being made aware of making it.

"It's called a spinal block, and you can't have it yet, Nancy, the doctor said you're not dilated enough," Hannah piped up, taking a seat at the edge of Nancy's hospital bed. Poor Frank was looking absolutely terrified and utterly lost as to what to do.

"I have to wait for it to get worse? Why can't I have it now? It really hurts, Han!" Nancy groaned, letting out another piercing scream. "HANNAH!" she shouted.

The closest thing she had to a mother wasn't fazed by Nancy's haunting screams. Hannah sighed, unfolding her arms and giving Frank a reassuring clap on the shoulder. His face was drained of color and he didn't know what to do to help his wife but just offer support. "Honey, doctors are sadists who like to play God and watch lesser people scream," Hannah sighed.

Nancy lay still as the attending nurse administered the medication, waiting for the agony to subside. In times to come, she would forget these moments as effectively as formatting a hard drive, but always Nancy would recall the love she felt for their baby, her and Frank's precious child. Mine, she thought affectionately, and that was the one thought that kept her going. With each contraction came a pain that dominated her entire being. In those moments, for those seconds that stretched into infinity, there was nothing else. Nancy could hear sounds coming from the room, were they hers? When the pain passed it was only for a minute or so and she breathed with closed eyes, unwilling to re-engage with life outside of her own body. The room might as well have been empty for all the awareness Nancy had, and when they did talk, touch, gain her attention, she found it hard. To reply, she had to find herself from the deepest recesses and drag herself forward to use her own voice, open her eyes. To listen.

Hannah leaned over the bed railing and put her face in front of Nancy's, her face wet with tears from the pain of it all. "You can do this, Nancy," she said firmly. "You can do this, and you will. It's time," she commanded, her tone harsh but loving, the tough love was exactly what Nancy needed right now.

"I—I can't," Nancy panted, exhausted, collapsing back against the pillow, her hair splayed out on either side of her pillow like a fan.

"Hey, hey, none of that, Nan," Frank encouraged, holding her hand and not protesting as she gripped it tight enough to make a face as she practically broke his fingers. "You can do this."

Nancy glared at Frank. "Make it stop!" Nancy cried, not caring who saw her tears anymore if it meant the horrible ripping, burning agony tearing up her insides would stop. "Please, Frank, make it go away!" she wailed. "I—I can't take this anymore."

"You know I would if I could," he soothed, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "But I can't. You can do this, honey. Just—just do what Hannah and the nurse tell you and push. It's almost over, and when it is, we can hold our baby." After sixteen hours of labor, all of them were exhausted. Hannah, Nancy, and the father-to-be, who was facing zero-hour with the dawning realization that he was unwanted, that right now, his wife wanted Hannah and the other attending nurse much more than she wanted him.

"I want you to get behind Nancy," Hannah told him calmly, "and brace her back. Nancy, I want you to look at me, focus on my face right here, and give me another push. Keep pushing, keep pushing, that's it!"

Hannah, that godsend of a woman, was telling Nancy that it was time, time to push. With a guttural grunt, she did so and bore down, losing all sense of herself in the effort to create someone else. Nancy was told to stop. Three was enough. She felt the baby crowning and the hot stretching of flesh and held her breath. Without any further effort, the baby slid into the hands of the nurse. There was elation, a girl at last, and in seconds she was there, and eyes opening, mouth rooting for milk. Nancy looked into those new eyes, a new consciousness, perfect and reaching out for her love. In that instant, Nancy knew she would do anything to protect their daughter, that her love was as vast as the universe yet solid as a rock.

Nancy was a mother and would always be.

"Hold on a second," the nurse spoke up, her brows knitted together in a frown as she pressed down on Nancy's stomach. "I feel something," she said.

Nancy stared. "What? What is it?" she demanded, having eyes only for her and Frank's new daughter.

The nurse looked up, a startled look in her brown orbs. "Did anyone tell you that you were having twins?"

"Huh?" Nancy exclaimed, stupefied. She turned to Frank, who was looking equally ecstatic and happy.

"You hear that, honey? Twins!" he said delightedly.

Nancy sighed, rocking their new daughter in her arms. "That's nice," she said matter-of-factly. "But I'm not pushing another one out," she snapped angrily.

Hannah and the nurse laughed. "Oh, I think I can get you to change your mind." Forty minutes later, she'd delivered a healthy baby boy. "Congratulations, you two. Really."

"They're perfect. You're perfect," Frank said quietly, holding their new daughter in his arms, swaddled in a bright pink blanket, blue for their son. He reached over and placed a brief but passionate kiss on her lips. "What should we name them?" he asked softly.

"I still can't believe it," Nancy whispered. Their son began to cry in her arms. "Hey little buddy, it's Mommy," she whispered. "Guess it's name time."

"Yeah, I've been re-thinking those Star Wars names," joked Frank, cradling their daughter and nuzzling her tiny little face with his cheek.

Nancy stared at their son in her arms. "Oh, I don't know about that, hon," she piped up happily, allowing her inner geeky side to take over for a moment. "How about Luke?" she suggested, biting her lip.

"Luke," he said slowly. "Lukey, meet your sister. Your sister…." Frank's voice paused, trailing off.

"We gotta narrow it down to six!" Nancy laughed.

"Can I add a seventh?" pleaded Frank playfully.

"Seriously?" Nancy laughed. "What are you thinking?" she asked, stroking their son's face with her finger. "We're your parents, Luke. That's Daddy," Nancy whispered, handing their son off to Frank so she could hold their daughter and he could hold his son. "Seriously, Frank, she needs a name."

"Any ideas?" he asked, looking dazed, but years younger and happier than Nancy had ever seen him, except maybe six years ago when they married on their wedding day.

Nancy bit her lip again, hesitating. "I only had one name in mind if we had a girl. I was thinking we could call our daughter Kate," she whispered. "After my mom," she said.

Frank fell silent, a muscle in his jaw twitching. After a second, he nodded silently. "Kate and Luke Drew-Hardy. I like it." The new parents wanted to drink this moment in, this moment with their twins in their arms. Their eyes are more brilliant than they could have dreamed they would be, their tiny little hands more delicate. The babies felt so light, looked so perfect, and smelled so divine. Perfect. Frank and Nancy would be their protectors for as long as they lived and their love for the children would last for all time.

"Until the end of the world."

After the balmy days that had just passed, days that had invited summer dresses and white wine on the patio of their simple one-story house on the edge of town, coolness drifted in. Nancy could feel the newly damp air sinking in, bringing a delicate awareness of her skin that she hadn't had for quite some time. She watched as her one-year-old daughter, Kate, eyeballed the flowers in the pot that her mother had taken great care to plant gently. The flower that had been a tight bud only days ago had begun to open; already had a deeper blush of pink. The winter should still be in full force, but already spring had pushed it back to moderate temperatures and the kind of gentle breeze you didn't notice unless you stopped and became present in the moment.

Kate stretched out her chubby little fingers to touch the silky pink petals, to feel the coolness against her soft baby skin. She wanted to open it; see the pretty beauty she knew was inside. "No, no, hon, not that way. Leave the pink flower alone. It's not ready to come out yet. Nature has its own way of doing things, its own timing. Give it another few days and it'll bloom," soothed Nancy, hoisting her daughter onto her lap and watching Frank and their son play in the park within walking distance of their house, one of the main reasons Frank had chosen this house for them. A light breeze rustled the skirts of her green wrap maxi dress, her favorite and Frank's favorite too, the one with the white Manuka flowers embroidered on the front. Being friends with athletic George Fayne had paid off. The young athlete had put Nancy on a rigorous exercise program after she'd given birth to their twins, and as a result after only four months, Nancy was back to looking as she had pre-pregnancy, as if she'd never had children at all.

She was amazed, even after all this time, the dress still fit. The proud mom set down her daughter and watched her play, her arms folded across her chest and her blue eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses.

Kate Drew- Hardy moved like her knees were just hinges, wobbling to and fro before falling on her padded bottom. Then she would clap like it was all part of the plan and rolled to her stomach to get up again.

Nancy felt a surge of affection as she watched her young daughter innocently wipe her hands on her little pink checkered dress, perfect for Easter time, coming up soon in a couple of days. She and Frank had to make a dash to the store the other day to buy little plastic Easter Eggs and little chocolates and prizes. Their first Easter as a family was certainly a cause to celebrate. The young parents would be scattering the eggs all throughout their back yard tomorrow morning, and Carson and Frank's parents were coming over for Easter dinner, along with Hannah, Bess, George, and Joe.

Kate Drew-Hardy was now one year old and cute as hell, dressed in her little purple dress and those soft first shoes kids wear, the ones they can still feel the ground through. Then from behind an oversize rhododendron came Nancy with a smile to light up the whole park. The child giggled, waving her arms for the pick-up she knew was coming, but before she was hoisted high on her mother's shoulders, she was on her bottom again, having fallen. Nancy took a second to sling her purple nylon Tegaote crossbody purse on her arm with the matching purple monkey keychain on one of the zippers, a supposed knockoff of the Kipling bags Bess loved so much; Bess had picked it out for Nancy as a random surprise gift.

Nancy had, at first, when she was a new mother a few weeks after her children were born, often found her mind drifting in the quiet moments of stillness, wondering if she would regret her decision to retire from sleuthing and her detective work. She wondered if for years she would have a lingering sadness the day she quit on the day her children were born, but instead, it was like feeling the first kiss of warmth after winter. Nancy had no one to impress, no schedule but the one she and Frank wanted to keep. She couldn't have been this free since she was a toddler herself. Frank and Nancy, when they weren't tending to Luke and Kate, had time to be philosophical, to notice the small changes in society around them, to reawaken their inner idealist.

It was moments like these that Nancy wouldn't trade for anything in the world, which kept her and Frank going back to the city park for lunch with their children.

They both needed these little reminders that the two of them could be inherently good and loving people; otherwise, the tide of the doomsday press would sweep them both away into some fearful and narrow-minded thought pattern. They never wanted to be like that.

A startled shout from little Luke broke Nancy out of her musings. Frank had lifted their son up into the air and was giving him a ride on his shoulders, heading Nancy's way, meeting them halfway in the park. The park was nothing like those of the smaller towns. Theirs were miniature formal gardens for the elderly that had retired there for a quiet life. They had benches, ornamental trees, and flowers year-round and water fountains in clear lakes that were stocked with Koi carp and goldfish, the big one and yellow ones. But not here. Not in the big city of River Heights, Illinois. Here a park meant acres of concrete interspersed with neat grass verges. They had a rollerblading track, tennis courts, basketball courts, and waterparks and skateboarder basins. There were vendors with hotdogs and burgers, vendors with curry and rice, vendors with tacos and sour cream. There was always music, sometimes clashing from various sources, none of them official. The park didn't have color from roses or asters, but it was more vibrant than any planned garden. Nancy was certain when their children were grown up and her and Frank's hair would begin to whiten, they would move out, just like Frank's grandmother eventually did and be somewhere where the birds could actually be heard.

But right now, though, she was at peace here. She smiled as her gaze landed on her husband and her son. He leaned in for a quick kiss and traded off, handing Luke to Nancy and taking little Kate in his arms. Every once in a while, as they walked back to their car to go get something to eat and head for home, she would chance a tiny glance at her husband. At Frank.

Isn't it funny, that if I had made a different decision, I wouldn't be here now? If I would have stayed with Ned, I would have been dead. My fate would have been entirely different, written in different ink. Because if I was here, in a different universe, without Frank and my children by my side, I never would have become complete. And if there's one thing I do know, it's that I'm the luckiest woman in the whole world. When I first looked on his face, it was not on the perfect features that caught my eye—not the gold-flecked brown eyes or his vibrant red hair. Instead, it was the small blemishes and insecurities that drew me to my husband. The small scar above his right eyebrow, the scars on his arms that told the tale of his life prior to meeting me. His shy smile. That was the moment I had found the person who was perfectly imperfect for me. Now, when I look at him, I lose myself. All the mistakes I've ever made, and there have been many, are gone—every single of my impure thoughts erased. All my negativity, cleansed, almost like spiritual enlightenment. I know his eyes can see right through me, but I know they don't dwell on the hurt. He looks past every flaw to find the person inside, the real Nancy Drew-Hardy, his wife, the woman he married, and in that moment, I know I'm perfectly imperfect for him too. We're soulmates, Frank and I. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

A/N: Stay tuned for my next Nancy Drew story, Title in the works, but Nancy Frank get asked to travel to Paris, France to investigate a series of hauntings where they run into a few familiar faces...