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Ellie fixed the paper hat she was wearing as Hardy methodically removed the wrapping paper on the present she had given him. She had learned long ago that there was no point bugging him to open it quicker. For his birthday this year, it had caused an argument that meant he didn’t actually open his present until the week afterwards.
After what felt like three hours, part of the packaging was revealed. Hardy peered down at the Roger Hargreaves logo and sighed.
“It’s Mr Grumpy, isn’t it?”
Ellie’s face fell. “You’ve already got it?”
He finished unwrapping it. “Not the mug. Thanks.”
She picked up the carrier bag he had handed her. “You haven’t even wrapped it!”
“What’s the point? It’s a waste of paper and-”
“All right, Al Gore.” She pulled out a bright orange scented candle. “Oh. This is nice. Thank you.”
Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she had bought a scented candle. It certainly wasn’t since Fred was born. Open flames - no matter how small - were always a terrible idea around curious toddlers. Still, she smiled and hoped it didn’t look as forced as it was.
“You like orange?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Hardy nodded and went back into his office.
Ellie stared after him. “Right.”
An hour later, the candle forgotten in her bag, Ellie was laughing with a mouthful of sausage roll with her colleagues. Christmas had arrived in Broadchurch, bringing only a small rise in domestic break-ins and drunk and disorderly charges with it. As a result, CID was able to go down to a skeleton staff for the week. Of course, Hardy and Ellie were on call should anything big happen, but as it stood, it looked as though criminals had decided to take a holiday. Ellie couldn’t blame them; everyone deserved a rest, after all.
Today was the last day they were all in. Ellie and a few of the others had brought in snacks, crackers and presents for everyone and soon someone had turned the radio up. As far as parties went, Ellie thought it was a bit naff, but it was still fun.
Naturally, Hardy had stayed locked in his office, refusing to join in.
“He’s allergic to joy, I think,” she explained to another officer. “Christmas to him is like Spring to a hayfever sufferer.”
It was during the third time Slade was blaring out of the speakers that Ellie spotted Hardy slipping out of the door. She finished the mini pizza she was eating and hurried after him.
“Hardy!” she called down the corridor. He stopped outside of the evidence room and she caught up with him. “You off?”
He nodded.
“Without saying bye to anyone?”
“Everyone was busy so…”
She stared at him. She thought after all these years his behaviour would make sense to her, but it was still baffling at times. “There’s no hope for you, is there?”
Hardy shrugged.
Ellie rolled her eyes and spotted the mistletoe hanging above the door. She glanced at Hardy who had also just noticed it.
“Brian, I think,” he grumbled. He met her eye with a frown. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Thank God.”
She smiled. He folded his arms. It was probably as close to sharing a joke as they ever got.
“So, how are you spending Christmas?” she asked, nudging him. “You never said.”
“It’s just another day.”
Ellie did her best not to throttle him. The urge came to her three or four times a day so it was easy enough to suppress now. “Yes, but what are you doing on that particular day?”
“Might watch TV.”
“Right and what’s Daisy got to say about your big plans?”
Hardy sighed and looked away. “She’s spending Christmas in Sandbrook.”
“What?”
“She’s only really just started speaking to Tess again so…”
Ellie remembered ribbing him for being a Scrooge all week and felt terrible. She hadn’t even thought to ask why he was moodier than usual. She had assumed everyone else’s good spirits were pissing him off.
He acted like nothing affected him, but Ellie knew him well enough to know it was a front. He cared more about his loved ones than he did himself. This was his first Christmas since being on proper speaking terms with Daisy again and she wasn’t going to be with him. It must have been crushing him and she had done nothing to support him.
“Why didn’t you say?”
“Because you’d…. do something,” he muttered with disgust.
“Damn right, I would.” She crossed her arms. “You’re coming to mine.”
Hardy looked horrified. “No. I can’t-”
“You bloody well can.”
“Nah, don’t-”
“Hardy, it’s Christmas,” she said, leaving no room for arguments. “Besides, how else are you gonna know what that candle smells like?”
She watched as he went through the five stages of grief. “Fine.”
“You won’t even have to bring anythi-”
“I said fine!”
“Jesus - why does everything have to be so much work with you?” she snapped.
When he didn’t give her more of reply than those sad puppy eyes of his when he knew he was out of his depth in a social situation she sighed and turned to leave. She had barely made it one step when a hand closed around her arm.
“Thank you,” Hardy said gruffly. “For putting in the work.”
Ellie smiled up at him as the sound of Shane MacGowan’s voice came down the corridor. As much as he frustrated her, she knew he wasn’t all bad. In fact, once you got past his acerbic manner, he was a thoroughly decent person. He didn’t seem to have any idea just how special he was and often dealt with his problems alone when he could ask for help.
Having him over for Christmas was the least she could do after everything he had done for her.
A part of her - a small, quiet part - almost wanted him there. Sort of.
The enthusiastic singing of the other coppers brought Ellie back into the moment. It was only then that she realised she and Hardy had been staring at each. She’d never noticed the freckles across the bridge of his nose before.
“You don’t have to be alone,” she told him. “You aren’t alone.”
The chorus swelled and she took a step closer to him. He watched her steadily as she lifted up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
She stepped down but couldn’t step away. His hand was still on her arm, but it was slowly moving up, towards her shoulder.
“Because it’s Christmas?” he asked. He played with the ends of her hair and she lightly touched his sides with her fingertips.
“Yeah,” she breathed, not entirely sure what she was agreeing to.
She saw Hardy’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and moved closer. She had lost track of her own limbs as he removed her hat and dropped it. When he cupped jaw, she lost the battle with her own reflexes and her eyes dropped to his mouth. Before she could look back up, his lips were on hers.
It was so soft that she was scared to move lest she ruin the moment.
Of course, the moment he pulled away, the nervous energy thrumming through her veins compelled her to speak.
“You best not have ruined my hat.”
“Shut up.”
He kissed her again and she didn’t feel the need to talk again for some time.