Chapter Text
Christmas Eve arrived cold and gray, the sky threatening snow that hadn't started falling yet.
Nat stood outside Jackie's house at three on the dot like she was told, staring at the perfect decorations, the pristine white lights, the wreaths on every window. Her truck somehow looked even more out of place than the first time she was here.
She'd barely slept. Kept replaying Jackie falling asleep on her shoulder, the weight of her, the trust in it. Kept hearing the word "friends" echo in her head. Kept a gameplan of how not to screw this up for Jackie.
The door opened before Nat could knock. Jackie stood there, perfect for dinner with the Taylors, nothing like the version that Nat was used to knowing. But Nat's heart still did that stupid thing it had been doing for weeks now.
"Hi," Jackie said, stepping aside. "Come in."
"Hey." Nat walked past her into the entryway, all marble and chandelier. "Your parents' home?"
"They left early to pick up my grandparents. Should be coming back soon." Jackie closed the door, leaned against it. "I figured we could get you sorted before they got here. Less questions that way."
"Smart."
They stood there in the entryway, neither quite looking at each other. The air felt heavy with everything unsaid from last night, something that felt too heavy to be friendship but neither of them would name
"So," Jackie said finally. "Clothes. Come on."
Nat followed her upstairs, taking in the house as they went. The inside was everything you expected from the outside. Family photos lined the walls in expensive frames. Everything was decorated perfectly coordinated. It felt cold despite all the Christmas cheer.
Jackie's room was different. Still neat, still expensive, but there were signs of life here. A perfectly made bed with decorative pillows arranged just so. Trophies on a shelf, academic awards framed on the wall. Everything in its place, everything presentable. Books stacked on the nightstand. A bulletin board tucked beside her closet, covered in photos and ticket stubs and scraps of things that mattered to her.
This was Jackie's space. Or what she could carve out of it, anyway.
"Okay." Jackie opened her closet, started pulling things out. "We need to find something that works for you but also won't give my mother a heart attack."
"That's a tall order."
"I'm aware." Jackie pulled out a black button-up polo with thin white stripes. "This. Try this one."
Nat grabbed the hem of her shirt, started to pull it off, then noticed Jackie's face go red.
"I'll just—" Jackie turned around quickly, her back to Nat. "Let me know when you're decent."
Nat bit back a smile. Pulled off her shirt, pulled on the polo. The material was soft, fitted but not too tight. "Okay."
Jackie turned back around. Her eyes went wide, her lips parting slightly. She stared.
"What?" Nat looked down at herself. "Is it bad?"
"No." Jackie's voice came out strangled. "It's—you look…" She stepped closer, her hands coming up automatically. "The collar's all—let me just…"
Her fingers found the collar, started buttoning the top button that Nat had left undone. Then smoothed down the fabric, her touch lingering on Nat's shoulders, straightening the stripes. Her face was inches from Nat's, her breath coming quick.
"There," Jackie said quietly, but her hands stayed on Nat's collar, her fingers still touching the fabric. "That's... that's better."
"You sure? You look like you're having a stroke."
"I'm fine. Just—" Jackie's hands dropped quickly, like she'd just realized what she was doing. "You look good. In my clothes. It's just different seeing you in something that's not your usual... you know."
"My usual bar tees?"
"I didn't say that." But Jackie was smiling now, some of the tension easing, though her cheeks were still pink. "Keep the shirt. Your jeans should be good. Still, I want you to have these—" She went back into the closet and shifted around to find something.
"Jackie, you don't have to—"
"Here." Jackie pulled out a shoe box. "These should fit."
Nat opened up the box, and it revealed a new pair of boots. Leather and slick, something that would actually support her ankles, and looked like they didn't even know what duct tape was.
"Jackie—"
"You can't wear duct tape to dinner, Nat. My family will think—" Jackie stopped, her jaw working. "Just try them on."
"You bought me boots."
"I bought you boots that aren't held together with tape, yes." Jackie looked down at the box and back at Nat’s face. "It's for the job, okay? You need to look presentable."
Nat stared at the boots. They were perfect, exactly her style but nicer. The kind of boots she'd looked at in store windows but never bought because rent existed.
"You bought these for me," Nat said quietly. "Not for the job."
Jackie's hands twisted together. "Just try them on."
Nat sat on the edge of Jackie's bed and slipped out of her old boots. She pulled on the new ones slowly, laced them up. They fit perfectly, like Jackie had somehow known her exact size.
"They're good," Nat said, her voice rough.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Nat stood, looked down at herself. Jackie's shirt, new boots, her jeans from the party. "I look like I'm trying to fit in."
"You look like you." Jackie's voice was soft. "Just... a little more dressed up."
Nat threw her leather jacket over it as she looked at herself in the mirror. Nat standing in Jackie’s childhood room and wearing Jackie’s clothes, but somehow her clothes matched Nat’s jacket.
Jackie moved to stand behind her, their eyes meeting in the reflection. For a second, neither of them spoke. Jackie's hand came up slowly, smoothed over the shoulder of the jacket like she was straightening it, but her touch lingered. Her palm settled there, warm through the fabric, and Nat could see the way Jackie was looking at her in the mirror.
Nat's brain worked on something dangerous. Standing here, in this perfect house with this perfect girl's hand on her shoulder, wearing clothes that shouldn't fit her world but somehow did, Nat let herself believe it. That maybe she could belong here. That maybe Jackie looking at her like that meant what Nat hoped it meant.
Jackie's thumb traced a small circle against her shoulder, her eyes still holding Nat's in the mirror. Her lips parted like she was about to say something—
The front door opened downstairs. "Jackie!" Her mother's voice carried up the stairs.
Jackie's hand dropped. The moment falling with it.
"That's my mom," Jackie said quietly as she removed her hand. "We should go downstairs."
Right, the deal. Jackie started towards the door and Nat took one last look in the mirror. The belief that she could belong here faded as quickly as it came. This was just performance. They were nothing more than friends with an expiration time somewhere between dinner and dessert wine.
"Yeah. Okay."
They went downstairs together. Waited in the living room, sitting on a couch that was too perfect to be comfortable. The Christmas trees around them twinkling with their expensive ornaments, their coordinated color schemes. Nothing like Nat's sad little tree with its mismatched decorations.
"Nat?" Jackie's voice was quiet.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For doing this. For being here." Jackie's hands twisted in her lap. "I know it's a lot."
"It's fine. That's what—" Nat stopped herself before she could say "you're paying me for." "That's what friends do, right?"
Something flickered across Jackie's face. "Right. Friends."
The word sat heavy between them until they heard the sound of cars in the driveway, doors opening, voices carrying.
"Here we go," Jackie said, squaring her shoulders.
Nat stood, offered Jackie her hand. "Ready?"
Jackie took it, her fingers slipping between Nat's like they belonged there. "As I'll ever be."
The next few hours were a blur of introductions and small talk and trying to remember who was who in Jackie's massive family. Grandparents who asked pointed questions. Aunts who assessed Nat with sharp eyes. Uncles who tried to make conversation about sports Nat didn't follow. Cousins who whispered behind their hands.
And Shauna. Shauna and Jeff, sitting on the other side of the room, watching.
Nat kept her arm around Jackie's waist, pulled her close when people got too nosy with questions, played the role of protective girlfriend. Jackie leaned into her, answered questions about how they met, how long they'd been together, her hand finding Nat's and squeezing when things got overwhelming.
Dinner was worse. Long table, too many people, too many options. Nat found herself sitting between Jackie and one of Jackie's cousins who kept asking about her job, her background, her plans. Making it clear with every question that Nat wasn't good enough, wasn't the right kind of person for their golden girl.
Nat handled it. Kept her answers short, polite enough. Let the cousin's condescension roll off her. This was the job. This was what Jackie needed.
Jackie's mom sat at the head of the table, presiding over everything with a smile that never reached her eyes. She kept glancing at Nat like she was a stain on the perfect tablecloth, something to be tolerated but not welcomed.
"So, Natalie," Jackie's mom said during the main course, her voice carrying across the table. "Jackie tells us you work at a bar. How... nice. Is that a career path you're pursuing, or just something temporary?"
The table went quiet. Everyone turned to look at Nat.
"It pays the bills," Nat said evenly.
"Of course." The smile got tighter. "And the cooking? Jackie mentioned you're a line cook as well?"
"Yeah. At the same place."
"How versatile." The words were polite but the tone wasn't. "And you have ambitions beyond that, I'm sure? Plans for the future?"
Nat felt Jackie tense beside her. Felt her hand grip Nat's under the table.
"I'm working on it," Nat said.
"Hmm." Jackie's mom took a sip of wine. "Well, everyone needs time to figure things out, I suppose. Though at your age, one would think you'd have some direction by now."
"Mom—" Jackie's voice was tight.
"I'm just making conversation, dear." But her eyes stayed on Nat, assessing, finding her lacking. "I'm trying to understand what you two have in common. You come from such different... backgrounds."
"We make it work," Nat said, her hand tightening on Jackie's under the table.
"I'm sure you do." Jackie's mom smiled that cold smile. "Though I have to say, Jackie, this is quite a departure from Jeff. He was always so reliable, so focused. A real go-getter."
Jackie's hand went still in Nat's. Nat looked over, saw Jackie's face carefully blank, her jaw tight. Saw the hurt flash across her features before she could hide it.
"Jeff cheated on me," Jackie said quietly and looked over at Shauna and Jeff. Jeff stared at his wine glass and Shauna’s face did that complicated thing. "With my best friend."
"Yes, well." Jackie's mom waved a hand dismissively. "Relationships are complicated. I'm sure there were reasons—"
"Yeah, probably because I'm so much more interesting," Nat cut in, her voice loud enough to carry. She leaned back in her chair, that dangerous grin spreading across her face. "I mean, look at me. I've got the whole package. Felony record, job with no benefits, and an apartment the size of this napkin." She gestured at the fancy linen napkin on the table. "Can't compete with that."
The table went silent. Everyone staring. Nat could feel Jackie's hand tighten in hers under the table, feel her trying to signal something, but Nat was on a roll now. Better they stare at her than keep tearing Jackie apart with their polite cruelty.
"Actually," Nat continued, picking up her wine glass and studying it like she gave a shit about wine, "speaking of Jeff, he's right over there." She gestured toward where Jeff and Shauna sat, both looking uncomfortable. "Should we ask him? Hey Jeff, what made you decide to cheat? Was it Shauna's sparkling personality, or was it just that Jackie here was too perfect and you needed someone more... accessible?"
"Natalie—" Jackie's mom's voice was sharp, her face going red.
"Or wait, no." Nat set down the glass, snapped her fingers. "We could talk about my career prospects some more. That was fun. Let's see, what other dead-end jobs can I tell you about? I've done fast food, retail—lasted one day at that one, that one month I tried to sell plasma but they said I couldn't because of—well, actually, that's probably not dinner conversation."
"That's enough," Jackie's mom said, her voice ice.
"Is it though?" Nat stood, and Jackie stood with her, their hands still linked. Nat could feel the whole room staring now, could see the shock and disapproval on every face. Perfect. This is what they'd wanted, right? The disaster girlfriend? "Because I'm just getting started. I could tell you about the time I got arrested, or about how I almost dropped out of high school, or we could place bets on how long till my truck finally dies for good—"
"Nat." Jackie's voice was quiet but firm, her hand squeezing Nat's. "Let's go."
Nat looked at her, saw something in Jackie's eyes that made her stop. Not anger. Not embarrassment. Something that looked almost like gratitude mixed with exasperation.
"Yeah," Nat said, her voice dropping back to normal. "Yeah, let's get out of here."
The silence was deafening. Everyone staring. Jackie's mom's face was red, her mouth open in shock. Jackie was staring at Nat with wide eyes, her hand still gripped in Nat's.
"I think we need some air," Nat said, pulling Jackie toward the door.
"Jackie, don't be ridiculous—" her mom started
"We're leaving," Jackie said firmly.
She didn't wait for a response. Just kept moving, pulling Jackie through the house and out the front door, letting it close behind them with more force than necessary.
The porch was cold, the Christmas lights twinkling overhead doing nothing to warm the air. Nat's breath came out in white clouds, her heart racing. She'd fucked it up. Gone too far. Ruined everything.
"Fuck," Nat said, running a hand through her hair. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—I just made the whole thing about me in there."
"Nat."
"I know I went too far. I know that's not what you wanted. I just—" Nat turned to face her. "They were looking at you like that and I just needed to give them something else to look at. Figured making an ass of myself would do the trick."
"Nat." Jackie's voice was firmer this time.
Nat stopped, looked at her. Jackie was standing there, arms wrapped around herself without an outerlayer, shivering. Snow had started falling, tiny flakes catching in her hair, the Christmas lights around them illuminating the white in her honey blonde hair.
"You're going to freeze," Nat said automatically, already shrugging out of her leather jacket.
"I've been through worse," Jackie said, but her voice was shaking. "I can handle it."
"Jackie—"
"That's my line." Jackie's lips quirked up slightly. "You're supposed to say that."
Nat held out the jacket anyway. "Just take it."
Jackie pulled it on, the worn leather swallowing her frame. She looked small in it, her hands disappearing into the sleeves. But she pulled it tighter around herself, and something in her face shifted. Softened.
"Thank you," Jackie said quietly. "For what you did in there. For being the disaster girlfriend they expected."
"Worked, didn't it?" Nat rubbed her biceps, the thin polo useless against the cold. "Now they're all talking about what a trainwreck I am instead of—" She stopped, shrugged. "You know."
"You're not a trainwreck." Jackie stepped closer, the movement bringing them into each other's space. "You gave them exactly what they wanted to see so they'd stop looking at me like that. You knew what you were doing."
"Yeah, well." Nat shoved her hands in her pockets, the cold already making her fingers ache. "That's the job, right? Be the disaster girlfriend."
"Is that what you think you were doing?" Jackie's voice was quiet. "Just the job?"
Nat couldn't look at her. Stared at the snow falling instead, the flakes catching in the porch lights. "What else would it be?"
Jackie was close now. Close enough that Nat could see the snowflakes melting in her hair, could see the way her eyes traced all over Nat until settling on her eyes, could feel the warmth of her breath. Jackie's hands came up, fisted in the front of Nat's polo.
"You're—" Jackie started again, but the words seemed to die in her throat. Her eyes dropped to Nat's mouth, then back up.
Nat's heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. They were so close. Too close. Not close enough. Jackie was looking at her like that, like she wanted to break the final barrier.
Nat's hand came up, cupped Jackie's jaw. Her thumb brushed along Jackie's cheekbone, and Jackie's eyes fluttered closed for a second, her breath hitching.
"Jackie," Nat whispered.
"Yeah?" Jackie's voice was barely audible.
They were leaning in. Nat could feel it happening, could feel the pull drawing them together. The friendship label melting away under the lights, Jackie's fingers tightened in her shirt. Nat's other hand found Jackie's waist. The space between them was disappearing, their breath mingling in the cold air, their lips inches apart—
"Jackie!" The voice came from inside, loud and insistent. Her mom or an aunt. "Jackie, we're doing presents!"
They froze. Jackie's eyes opened, found Nat's. For a second, neither of them moved. Jackie's hands were still fisted in Nat's shirt. Nat's hand was still on her face. They were still so close Nat could count Jackie's individual freckles.
"Jackie!" The voice again, closer now.
Jackie's hands loosened slowly, reluctantly, but she didn't let go completely. She took a step back, and the cold rushed in to fill the space between them.
"I should—" Jackie's voice was unsteady.
"Yeah." Nat forced herself to drop her hand, to step back. "You should go."
"Nat—"
"It's fine. I should go anyway." Nat tried to smile, but it felt wrong on her face. "Got an early shift tomorrow. Kevyn's going to kill me if I'm late."
"Jackie!" The voice was right at the door now.
Jackie looked torn, her hands twisting together. "Wait—"
But Nat was already moving, already backing away toward the steps. "Merry Christmas, Jackie."
"Nat, wait—"
Nat didn't wait. Couldn't wait. She was down the stairs, heading for her truck, her whole body still thrumming with the almost-kiss, with how close they'd been. The job was done. Time to leave before this got more complicated than it already was.
Nat climbed into her truck, turned the key. The engine coughed once, twice, caught. She put it in reverse, started backing out of the driveway.
In the rearview mirror, she saw Jackie standing on the porch in Nat's leather jacket, watching her go. Snow was falling harder now, tiny flakes sticking in Jackie's hair, in the Christmas lights around her. She looked small standing there, wrapped in worn leather that was too big on her, her hand raised like she wanted to call Nat back but couldn't make herself do it.
Nat looked away, focused on the road. Didn't let herself look back again.
She left Jackie. She left her jacket. Jackie was still wearing it, and Nat had left without them.
Fuck.
Christmas morning came gray and cold, snow covering everything in white.
Nat had barely slept again. Spent the night replaying the dinner, the porch, Jackie's face as Nat drove away. Kept thinking about Jackie’s pull on her shirt and the way she was looking at her before getting cut off.
By the time she finally decided that she did enough of feigning sleep, Nat couldn't take it anymore. She'd fucked this up. Had run away right when things were finally becoming real, right when Jackie was about to say something that might have changed everything. She couldn't leave it like this. Couldn't let Jackie think Nat had left because she didn't want it.
Nat grabbed her keys. Pulled on her old boots because the new ones were still at Jackie's, forgotten in the chaos of leaving. She was going back. Was going to find Jackie and finish what they'd started on that porch, interruptions be damned.
She was halfway down the stairs of her building when she saw it.
A car that looked completely out of place in the busted parking lot, especially next to Nat’s truck. And standing next to it, looking up at the building like she was trying to find the right apartment, was Jackie.
She was wearing Nat's leather jacket over her Christmas morning clothes. She looked nervous and determined and beautiful and Nat's heart stopped beating for a full second.
Nat took the rest of the stairs two at a time, pushed through the door into the cold.
Jackie's head snapped up. Their eyes met.
"Hi," Jackie said.
"Hi." Nat walked toward her, her keys still in her hand. "What are you doing here?"
"I needed to see you." Jackie's hands twisted in the sleeves of the jacket. "You left this. And I—" She stopped, looked down. "I couldn't let you think last night was how this ends."
"Jackie—"
"Let me finish. Please." Jackie pulled the jacket tighter around herself. "I've been practicing this all morning and if I don't say it now I'm going to lose my nerve."
Nat nodded, her throat too tight to speak.
"Last night on the porch," Jackie started, her voice shaking slightly. "We were going to kiss. We both know that's what was happening. And then my family interrupted and you left and I—" She stopped, her breath coming out in white clouds. "I stood there watching you drive away and I realized I couldn't do this anymore."
"Do what?"
"Pretend." Jackie's eyes found Nat's, held them. "Pretend this is fake. Pretend we're just friends. Pretend I don't feel what I feel."
Nat's heart was pounding so hard she could hear it. "Jackie—"
"I told myself it was just the arrangement. That I hired you and paid you and that's all it was. But it was never fake, Nat. Not for me." Jackie's voice broke slightly. "Every time I showed up at the bar, every time you looked at me like I mattered, every time you made me laugh or gave them something else to look at or just existed in my space, I was falling for you. And last night, when we were standing there in the snow and you touched my face like that—" Her voice caught. "I wanted to kiss you so badly. Not for show. Not for my family. Just because I wanted to."
"You did?" Nat's voice came out rough.
"I did. I do." Jackie stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "And I know I fucked this up by calling it friendship, by making it about the money, but I was scared. You kept saying it was just a job and I thought that's all it was to you. But last night—" She searched Nat's face. "Last night you looked at me like maybe it wasn't. Like maybe you wanted it too."
Nat felt like she couldn't breathe. "You said friends."
"I lied." Jackie's voice broke slightly. "I was scared. You kept talking about the money, about it being a job, and I thought that's all it was to you. I thought if I called it friendship, I could at least keep that. But then last night, seeing you leave—" Jackie's hands tightened in the jacket. "I can't do friendship, Nat. Not with you. I want more. I want everything."
"Jackie—"
"And I know I fucked this up. I know I hired you and paid you and made this weird and complicated. But I'm here, on Christmas morning, returning your jacket and probably making a complete fool of myself because I need you to know—"
Nat kissed her.
Cut off Jackie's rambling by closing the distance between them and pressing their lips together, her hands coming up to cup Jackie's face. Jackie made a surprised sound that turned into a sigh, her hands fisting in Nat's shirt.
The kiss was soft and desperate and real. No more practicing, no more pretending, no more calling it friendship. Just them, finally being honest.
"I was coming to find you," Nat said, her voice rough. "I was about to get in my truck and drive to your house and tell you the same thing."
"Really?"
"Really." Nat caressed Jackie's cheek with her thumb. "It stopped being about the money weeks ago, Jackie. Probably the second you walked into that coffee shop. Especially when you swatted my cigarette away. I just—I didn't think someone like you could want someone like me."
"Someone like me?" Jackie's hands came up to cover Nat's where they rested on her face. "Nat, you're the first person who's ever made me feel like I could just be myself. You're brave and honest and you made yourself the spectacle at dinner so they'd stop looking at me. You bought me hot chocolate when I was cold and you gave me your jacket multiple times. You even helped decorate that sad tree in unbearable silence."
"You're the one who went back and got it for me," Nat said quietly.
"Because you said it had character." Jackie smiled, eyes still locked in on Nat. "Because it reminded me of you. Rough around the edges but unexpectedly sweet when you look closer."
"You said that before."
"I meant it." Jackie leaned in, pressed their foreheads together. "I meant all of it. This. Us. It's real for me, Nat. Has been for weeks. Maybe from the start."
Nat's breath caught. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Jackie's smile was real now, reaching her eyes. "So unless you're going to tell me you're actually just here for the money—"
"Fuck the money," Nat said, and kissed her again.
This kiss was different. Deeper, fuller, certain. No more questions, no more doubts. Just them, finally on the same page, finally admitting what had been obvious to everyone else for weeks.
When they pulled apart again, they were both smiling like idiots. Jackie took the jacket off and draped it over Nat's shoulders.
"There," she said. "Now you won't freeze."
"What about you?"
"I'll manage." But Jackie was shivering, the cold finally catching up to her.
"Come on." Nat took her hand, started pulling her toward the building. "Let's get you inside. Warm you up."
"Are you going to make me hot chocolate?"
"I'm going to turn on my pathetic heater and we're going to sit under blankets and look at your sad little Christmas tree and if you really want it, I'll make your hot chocolate." Nat squeezed Jackie's hand. "Sound good?"
"Perfect." Jackie followed her up the stairs, their fingers still interlaced.