#nancy.

Which is why she didn’t go back to her old friends. There was no point when they had moved on and had families of their own. She called one of the familiar faces she had worked with before. Someone who was intuitive with these sorts of mysteries. Someone she almost enjoyed working with a bit too much; (She blamed her own loneliness on that). 

But he was a familiar face nonetheless. She watched the streets outside the coffee shop she sat at, waiting to see him. It didn’t take too long before he entered and Nancy’s gaze found his followed by a wave of her hand to catch his attention in case he had missed her. Seeing that she was the only one with strawberry blonde hair, she doubt it. 

“Thank you for coming.” she greeted him as he walked closer to her table. Nancy’s features broke into a smile before she called over the waitress. “Whatever you like, it’s on me. Just for coming down here.” buying him a meal was the last thing she could do, but it expressed how thankful she was in that moment. Nancy Drew never needed anyone; For the first time, she did. Something she’d never admit out loud.

"Gala’s was serving breakfast for lunch with mimosas to-go,” he announced as he negotiated his way through the front door of the tattoo parlor. He sat two large styrofoam cups on the counter, then hoisted a bag of nourishment up beside them.

Gannon was a creature of routine thanks to his years spent in the military. It had been a saving grace for him in the beginning — something he excelled at, a way to keep his racing mind focused and quiet. That part of his life was over, now. Without the rigidity, without the constant demands on his mind and body and spirit, he had become quite lost. Eventually, he found some reliable constants that kept his PTSD in check (or at least manageable), the most notable of those constants being the shop and all its demands, the playing and maintaining of his guitar, the calming ritual of pipe-smoking, .. and lunches with Nancy. 

She was just easy to be around. Like music, she made the sting of reality not so sharp. He could be himself.

He hooked his cane in the crick of his elbow and reached for a mimosa. “Hope you like waffles.”

kate golden retriever energy 🤝 nancy living worry doll

Her apartment isn’t the fanciest but it beat living with her dad forever, still despite that she tried to make it more comfortable, so if anyone did come over, it wouldn’t seem so dull. With Kieran, she didn’t have to worry about any of that. He didn’t mind; He didn’t care if she had her walls decorated in fancy word art, or pictures.

She didn’t want him to leave either so a part of her was glad that it had started to rain. “Honestly, at this late hour and our ghostly friends wandering around is also another great excuse as to why you should stay the night.” 

It was as if her mind had been made up, so she stood from the sofa, set aside her cup and looked at him. “I’ll get you extra blankets, we can take a break, freshen up and hopefully get back to this with a fresh brain.” she suggested. Perhaps even food; They needed to eat too. 

While all of this was invigorating, it could become just as frustrating when no one’s had anything to eat or even a moment to take a break. “Bathroom is down the hall if you need it, and I am going to make us something to eat.” she added while leanding down to gather their cups. They had too much tea, which meant they’d be up all night.

Again, what they really needed was food . -- @ghostobservers​