no season can contain it (love is who we are)
nancy drew | ace x nancy | t | 14.3k
here lies my @secretsleuthexchange gift for the wonderful @acesdrew! this is the 3rd platform i've tagged you in this fic on, sam, so i'll end the madness here. just know i lub you berry much. happy holidays, my friend <3
Blessed by the Germanic Goddess Perchta and hidden in a Christmas superstore three hours from Horseshoe Bay, the ancient bottle of schnapps tucked inside of Nancy’s satchel is the crew’s only chance to defeat Krampus.
The seasonal anthropomorph has been terrorizing the kids at the Youth Center for several days now. According to Bess’ research, he is prepared to drag them all to Hell on Christmas Eve if they do not appease him.
Christmas Eve, which is, of course, tomorrow.
Bess has assured the crew that this mystical 400-year-old liquor is enough to mollify Krampus, which Nancy hopes is true because today she and Ace risked life and limb driving to Portland to retrieve it.
When they left Horseshoe Bay, it was only snowing mildly. The occasional flurry tumbled from the clouds, melting on their noses before it dared to stick. The day’s forecast called for nothing more, nothing less.
So, naturally, because it was not expected to, the weather worsened drastically.
Heading home now, snow whips through the air, battering Florence’s windshield and clumping along with her wipers so they only spread more frost across the glass. It’s frozen to the ground too, making the roads slippery and sending the old wagon’s wheels spinning out from beneath them too many times to brush off.
In Florence’s passenger seat, Nancy turns left, and her heart squeezes painfully as she watches Ace hug the steering wheel, knuckles clenched white.
For over an hour, it has been near impossible for them to see anything through the haze of snow, but by some miracle, farther up the street, Nancy spots the glow of a window bathed in light.
“Pull over there,” she instructs Ace, pointing ahead.
He doesn’t question her, simply continues to navigate Florence forward, following Nancy’s outstretched arm until he pulls off the road with great care. He stops the car in a half-full lot, several yards before a two-story cottage with a soggy awning that reads O'Reilly’s Taproom.
Relief shining in his eyes, Ace shifts Florence into park. “This is convenient.”
