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Scott could hear music. It wasn’t loud, just barely enough to catch his ear, but enough to draw him from his slumber. Slowly, he began to stir, gradually becoming aware of the blankets wrapped around him, the morning light spilling through the window, that what he was hearing was Christmas music, familiar and festive.
For a moment, he just lied there, content to bask in the warmth and the light, comfortable. It had been a late night, off chasing down a contact of Monroe with Argent, so he was in no hurry to get up, despite being due at work before long. It was only when he heard someone humming along to the music that his eyes opened, a lazy smile spreading across his face. He didn’t need to look to know it was Malia. Nobody else was likely to be in his room while he was sleeping. The only question was what she was doing, why she wasn’t still curled up in bed with him, her voice coming from somewhere off to his right instead.
Spreading his arms, he let out a heavy sigh and stretched expansively. As his hands slid over the sheets, he took note of the warmth still lingering on the other side of the bed. She couldn’t have been up for long.
“Morning.”
Lifting his head slightly, he looked around the room, found her sitting in his chair, phone in hand and hair still tousled from sleep. “Good morning,” he replied, shooting her a lopsided grin. “You’re up early.”
“Not by choice.” Her tone was dry, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when she held up her phone, and said, “My dad’s panicking over what he bought his girlfriend for Christmas. Guess it’s my job to convince him he doesn’t need to go and buy her something else.”
He arched an eyebrow. “He wants to go shopping on Christmas Eve?”
“Uh-huh.”
Scott snorted and let his head fall back down on his pillow. “Good luck with that. The mall’s gonna be a freaking zoo today.”
Unlike most years, he’d actually gotten the bulk of his own shopping done early, the first week of December. All of it was already wrapped and ready to go, piled neatly in the bottom of his closet, hidden inside an old gym bag, just in case anybody—one overly-curious werecoyote, specifically—got a little too eager and went snooping. Given how packed the stores had been even that early on, he couldn’t imagine actually going out the day before Christmas and expecting to find anything but a whole lot of frustration.
“That’s what I told him. He wants to go anyway.” She sighed, rolled her eyes. “Dumbass.” The last was said with obvious affection, and he grinned as he watched her send a text, shaking her head the entire time.
“You actually gonna go?” he asked as she rose to her feet and tossed her phone down on his dresser.
It was her turn to snort, shooting him an incredulous look as she started to stretch. “Are you kidding me? Two minutes in there and I will knock somebody the fuck out. Guaranteed.” He laughed again, finding it almost disturbingly easy to picture her getting fed up and throwing a punch at some random pushy person in the middle of Wal-Mart. “No, I’m gonna go over and tell him he’s being stupid and convince him whatever he already bought is fine.” She paused. “You could come with me.”
His grimace was automatic, and he saw the disappointment flare up on her face even before he spoke. “I can’t, I’m sorry,” he said, sincerely apologetic. “Deaton needs me at the clinic today. He’s flying out tonight, and there’s a ton of stuff we need to get done before he leaves. He wants everything ready to re-open as soon as he gets back—”
“Right, I remember,” she interjected, and he felt his heart clench at the frustration in her voice.
“Malia…”
“No, it’s okay. It’s important. You need to go.”
It was very clear from both her expression and her tone that she wasn’t happy about it. Neither was he. But they both knew she was right.
It was something they’d been dealing with a lot lately, how often they were getting pulled away from each other. It seemed like more often than not, all they got were a few moments here and there as one or both of them were heading out somewhere, like two ships passing in the night.
Having limited time together wasn’t anything new. Between work, family, Monroe and her army of fanatics, there was always some responsibility that needed to be handled, some pressure to spend time doing this or that. They’d learned to adapt, to work around everything else, and find time for themselves when they could. It was far from ideal, but they’d been making it work. Unfortunately, with the holidays here, things were worse than ever. They’d been hoping for some kind of break, some time to be together, but they were both getting pulled in a dozen different directions instead, and as difficult as it was, it wasn’t like they could just ignore it all. Family and friends were important, work was essential, and anything to do with the struggle against their enemies had too much riding on it for them to ignore.
None of which made it any easier to digest.
It was Christmas. It was supposed to be about spending time with loved ones, and there was nobody he loved more than her. That it was their first Christmas together just made the desire to make it a good one that much stronger. All he wanted was a few days where they could just be alone together, with no distractions, no outside forces interfering or making demands or just generally disturbing them. But it just didn’t seem meant to be.
The mattress dipped then as she rejoined him on the bed, and he let out a surprised breath when she abruptly threw a leg over him and straddled his waist. His hands reflexively went to her hips as she pressed both of hers to his chest, and leaned over him, bringing her face close to his. “Once the holidays are over, we should take a vacation,” she murmured, brushing her nose against his.
“We really should.” Smiling, he reached up, gently brushed her hair behind her ear, fingers lingering against her temple. “Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere with snow, maybe. That might be fun.”
It was a nice thought, even though he knew it would never happen. They couldn’t afford to take a vacation right now, financially or in terms of what could happen while they were gone. There was just too much at stake, too much of a threat for both of them to just pack up and disappear for even a short time, no matter how badly they may have wanted to. They needed to be close, for their own safety, and the safety of everyone else. And he knew she was fully aware of that. But it was nice to pretend sometimes.
“We could go up to Canada,” he said softly, flipping his hand over to brush his knuckles along her cheek. “Up into the mountains. Get a place for a week. See the sights. Do some skiing, maybe. Or wiping out, more likely.”
She let out a little approving sound, from deep in her throat. “Yeah, I like that. A little cabin. Way up there, the middle of nowhere. Just the two us.” The corner of her mouth ticked up ever so slightly, just the hint of a smirk. “Maybe we lose our phones. Completely by accident, of course.”
“Of course,” he repeated, voice as serious as he could make it. “I mean, the reception’s bound to be pretty bad all the way up a mountain anyway, right? If somebody calls and we don’t answer, who’s to say what happened…”
He let himself trail off as he felt the laughter bubble through her, escaping her throat in a little huff a second before she dropped her head down and pressed her lips to his. The kiss started off slow, gentle, but quickly morphed into something else, something hungry, something that made him seriously reconsider getting out of bed. Made him forget all the very valid reasons he had for dragging himself away from her. Suddenly, the only thing that mattered, that made sense was staying there, feeling more. More of her lips, her touch, the feeling of her skin under his palms and fingers as he ran his hands up under the back of her top, pulling her closer. More.
At least until she broke away and collapsed down flat on him, laying her head on his chest. They stayed like that for a few minutes, the pounding soundtrack of their racing hearts gradually slowing. The distant Christmas music, coming from somewhere downstairs, was the only other sound Scott could hear as he idly ran his fingers through her hair and wished he could stay.
“That’s all I want,” she said, after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath warm across his chest. “A little bit of time. Time for us. Just us. No responsibilities, no pressure, nothing but us and whatever we want to do.” She shifted just enough to look up at him, her eyes full of want, and frustration. “Is that too much to ask?”
“No,” he immediately said, before his lips twisted into a sad smile. “And yes. The price we pay, I guess.”
She grunted, a scowl darkening her expression. “Yeah, well, it really sucks.”
He huffed out a little breath through his nose. “No arguments here. I guess I…” Trailing off, he heaved out a deep sigh, that same sad smile making another appearance. “Maybe tonight we can—”
“Lydia’s got her dinner party thing tonight,” she interjected.
Closing his eyes, he bit back a reflexive curse. “Right, yeah, almost forgot. Can’t really skip out on that, can we?” It was a rhetorical question, because he knew neither of them would willingly miss that get-together. Both because it would hurt Lydia’s feelings, and because she would almost certainly track them down and drag them there if they even tried to back out. Being around friends again after a semester spent away at college had her looking to reconnect with everyone in a significant way, so she’d been pouring a lot of effort into putting together a Christmas party for everybody. The entire pack and everybody connected to them had been invited, and they were all expected to be there. And it would inevitably run late. “Tomorrow, we could—”
She cut him off with a snort. “Come on, Scott. Tomorrow’s Christmas. Pretty sure we’re going to have to time travel just to get everywhere we’ve already agreed to be.”
This time, he wasn’t able to catch himself a time, a growl of annoyance reverberating up through his chest as his free hand curled into a fist. “Right,” he grated out from between tightly-clenched teeth. “Sorry. Damn it.” He forced himself to let go, to relax, opening his hand, letting out another deep sigh. Getting angry wasn’t going to solve anything. They had busy lives. They had responsibilities. This was nothing new. It might be more frustrating right now, but it was something they’d been dealing with their entire relationship. “Maybe we should just run away,” he suggested, only half-joking.
“I’m game if you are,” was her immediate response, and she didn’t sound like she was joking at all.
He grinned despite his mood. “No, you’re not. You wouldn’t run out on everybody and everything like that.”
She was quiet for a second, then huffed out a little breath. “I would have, once upon a time. And now, I don’t know. As much as I care about everybody, sometimes, it’s just too much. There’s always something else. It never fucking ends. And if running away means we finally get some time to ourselves…” She pursed her lips and shrugged. “Sometimes, I’m tempted.”
“It’s not gonna be like this forever,” he replied, after a moment where her words just hung in the air between, not sure what else to say. “We’ll find some time soon.”
“Yeah, okay.”
She tried to sound sincere, like she really believed him, but there was a hollow note in her voice she just couldn’t quite hide, and the sound of it was like a punch to his gut. What he wanted more than anything in that moment was to pull the blankets up over the both of them, and pretend the world didn’t exist. Even if just for a few hours. But he couldn’t do that.
Instead, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and reluctantly said, “I should probably shower before I go.” She let out an annoyed huff, but rolled off him, settling back down on her side of the bed. He moved to get out of bed, but hesitated for a second, and turned back to her instead. She tried to smile when their eyes met, but he could see the stormy expression lurking under the surface. He hated it, hated that she was feeling anything negative at all. Christmas or not, he wanted her to be happy, and right now, she was anything but. It didn’t feel good, didn’t feel right. “I’ll figure it out,” he whispered, before he leaned in pressed his lips to hers in a quick kiss. “We’ll figure it out.” He drew back, looked her in the eye, willed her to see how serious he was. “I promise.”
The change in her expression wasn’t much, just a small smile, but it was genuine, reaching her eyes. She didn’t say anything, just came in for another kiss, and once again, his resolve was sorely tested.
“You sure you really have to go?” she asked, when they finally broke apart, a hint of that smile still tugging at her lips. “I bet I could make you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”
He growled low in his throat. “I’d love to see that. I really would. But no.” It hurt to say it, but he didn’t have a choice. “I can’t stay. I’m sorry.”
“You’d better go, then. Before I tie you to the bed.”
He wanted to say something funny, maybe some quip about a threat and a good time. But he knew if he kept talking, kept going, it was only going to make leaving even harder. Better to get up, go now, get it over with. With that in mind, he shot her a wink, then slid out of bed, and headed for the bathroom, trying his best not to think about just how painfully common one of them walking away from the other was becoming.
“Well, I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
Scott shrugged off the Sheriff’s apology as he buckled his seatbelt. “Don’t worry about it. You heard a rumour, we checked it out,” he said, flashing him a reassuring smile as they backed out of the driveway and started back toward town. “Not finding anything wrong for once definitely isn’t a bad thing.”
Which wasn’t to say he wasn’t put out by the forced change in plans. After his conversation with Malia this morning, he’d really been hoping to make it home early enough to spend some quality time with her before they headed over to Lydia’s. It wasn’t much, but it would have been something, a little extra time together.
Instead, Stilinski had pulled up just as he was locking up the clinic, and he’d known instantly from the serious look on his face that it was going to be a long night. If it had been anyone else, he might have sent them away, told them to try again tomorrow, but the Sheriff didn’t come to him unless it was important. Especially not this close to Christmas, and with Stiles only back in town for a few weeks. For him to be out like this, after work, with the son he’d barely seen in months waiting at home meant something was up. And when something was up, it was usually something dangerous.
So he’d listened to what he had to say, about word that several people had been spotted living up in an abandoned cabin just outside of town. A concerned civilian had called in, said they saw a bunch of crates getting carried inside, the kind that might be holding guns. After months of dealing with Monroe and her people, it wasn’t something that could be discounted. The last thing they needed was for the enemy to set up some kind of base in Beacon Hills again.
It all turned out to be a false alarm, thankfully. They’d gone to check out the cabin, talked to a guy who turned out to be the new owner. He’d explained everything, about recently buying the property and planning to build on it, and shown them the crates, which turned out to be full of tools. It was a relief to know there was no danger this time, that it was all okay, just a minor misunderstanding.
As good as it felt to find out things were all right, the whole process had eaten up a big chunk of time. Now, driving back into town over an hour later, he was already running late. If Malia hadn’t already left for Lydia’s, she was surely about to. All he could do was give silent thanks he hadn’t mentioned his plan to get home early, hadn’t given her a concrete time when he’d be back. At least he wasn’t heaping more disappointment on top of the pile.
At least not for her. His own feelings were a different matter.
“You all right, Scott?”
Jarred from his thoughts, he pulled away from the window he’d been staring out of and looked to his left. “Huh?”
Stilinski glanced over at him, raised an eyebrow. “I asked if you’re all right. You’ve been a little out of it all night.”
“Oh, uh...” He ran a hand through his hair, blew out a heavy breath. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Just... just dealing with some stuff.”
“I see.” A pause. “Anything I can help with?”
“No, no. Just some personal stuff I’m trying to figure out. I...” He trailed off into a sigh. After a day spent running around in circles in his own head, talking about things actually didn’t sound so bad. Under different circumstances, the Sheriff wouldn’t have been his first choice to speak with, but he was here, and he’d offered. “Okay, can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Do you ever...” He gestured vaguely out the windshield at the darkness around them, searching for the words to properly articulate what was bothering him. “Do you ever wish there were more hours in the day?”
Stilinski huffed out an amused breath. “I don’t think a day’s gone by where I haven’t wished for that.” They shared a brief chuckle, before the mood turned serious again. “What’s on your mind, Scott?”
“Malia,” he replied, not even bothering to acknowledge the way the Sheriff’s lips twitched at his blunt admission. “We’ve sort of been struggling to spend any time together lately. I mean, we kinda always have. We lead busy lives. Work, family, all this crap with Monroe, it all adds up. But we’ve been making it work, finding the time, y’know? But lately…” He shook his head, a heavy frown settling on his face. “It just seems like whenever either of us has any free time, the other’s got something else to do, some commitment already made that we can’t just skip out on. And when we actually try to line things up, somebody gets attacked, or something comes up with Monroe, and we get screwed over again. There’s always something and I can tell how much it’s wearing on her. And on me,” he added softly, almost embarrassed to admit just how hard he was finding it all.
“And now it’s Christmas…” Stilinski said, a knowing look on his face.
“Yeah. Our first Christmas. I guess we just kind of thought we’d have time to… time for us, y’know? Time to do the stuff we haven’t be able to do yet because we’ve been running around so much since we got together. But now it’s here, and we’re busier than we’ve ever been.”
“You’ve been busy before,” Stilinski pointed out after a brief moment of silence.
“Yeah, but I don’t know, it just feels different.” Letting his head fall back against the headrest, he looked up at the roof and pursed his lips. “Before, it didn’t seem to matter how much I had on my plate, there was always time for more. But now… it feels like we’ve been scratching and clawing for every last minute, and it’s not enough. I wanted to give her a great Christmas, but I can’t even find a couple of hours to just be together. And I don’t know how to fix that.”
The last words came out in a rush, and silence filled the car as Scott sat there, not quite sure how he felt. Getting it out, actually talking about everything definitely had a cathartic effect, but it was mitigated more than a little by how bad it felt to admit he had a problem he couldn’t figure out how to solve.
“Have you two talked about it?”
Another sigh, and he shot the older man a humourless smile. “A bit, yeah. I mean, when we’re together, talking kind of takes a back seat to other stuff, y’know? And honestly, it’s hard to talk about it because we both know what we’re doing is important. If we’re not helping people, we’re doing the things we need to do to actually have a life. It’s not like we can just stop doing all that, right? So we just sort of say we’ll find the time later and leave it at that, and I—” Falling silent, he clenched his jaw tight, cutting everything off. “You know what?” he grated out after a moment. “Don’t worry about it.”
The words were coming too fast now, and bringing too much emotion with them, and the embarrassment was coming along for the ride. He hadn’t meant to say so much, was starting to feel foolish, spilling his guts like this to a man who probably had no idea what he was getting into when he’d offered his help. Time to reel it back in, put a lid back on it, keep the personal issues personal.
“Scott…”
“No, hey, it’s not your problem. I appreciate you listening to all that, but it’s okay.” Lips set in a tight smile, he nodded at the Sheriff. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.”
It was quiet then, and he leaned his head against the window again, staring out into the night, content not to say another word. He could hear Stilinski’s fingers drumming softly on the steering wheel as they drove past house after house covered in lights and festive decorations. Under other circumstances, he would have been cheered by the sight. But not tonight. Not with what he had on his mind.
“Can I give you some advice, Scott?”
Enough time had passed since anyone had spoken, it almost startled him to hear the Sheriff’s voice. “Uh, okay, sure,” he said, looking over at him, curious.
For a second, Stilinski hesitated, like he was carefully considering his words. “I learned a lesson a very long time ago about finding time to spend with the person you love. My first year on the job, I worked… well, I was working myself to death. I wanted to help people, I believed I was helping people, and it felt important. I had responsibilities that I felt I couldn’t just… abandon. Or even put down for a second. Because what if something happened while I was away? I knew my wife didn’t like it, but I also knew she understood. We would find the time whenever we could, and it was fine.” He paused then, let out a heavy sigh. “And then Christmas came around. Our first Christmas. And it turned out things weren’t exactly as fine as I’d imagined.”
He trailed off then, and Scott just watched him, unwilling to speak and disturb the memories the man was clearly reliving. He could see the play of emotions on his face, highlighted by the light coming from the gauges on the dash, could see the pain there, but also the happiness. A strange mixture, but understandable, recalling his dead wife, the time they spent together, good and bad.
The silence stretched on for a moment, before he gave himself a shake, and flashed him an apologetic grin. “Sorry. I won’t bore you with the details. The point is, eventually, we hit a breaking point. And I learned maybe the most important relationship lesson there is.” He paused, thumbs drumming on the steering wheel, and looked over, making eye contact. “It’s not always enough to find time. Sometimes, you need to make the time.”
Scott couldn’t stop his wry smile from showing through. “Yeah? It’s that easy, huh? You just… make the time.”
“No,” Stilinski replied, shaking his head slowly. “It’s not easy. It means saying no to people you care about. It means asking others to do stuff for you, counting on them to pick up the slack. It means making some hard choices. Not easy at all.” He smiled, clicked his tongue. “But very, very simple.”
For a second, Scott looked at him, mouth open, ready to say something, to argue that it was as far from simple as anything could possibly be. All the responsibilities he had, he and Malia both had, all the things they had to do to keep their families, their friends happy. They couldn’t just walk away from any of that, let alone the stuff with Monroe, that stuff that was literally a matter of life and death. Except he couldn’t quite find the words to make that argument, because it was rapidly dawning on him that the Sheriff was right. Definitely not easy, prioritising things that were all extremely important, figuring out which actually were essential, and which could be passed on, handed off, or pushed back.
Not easy. But simple. Simple because it was either do it and get that time together they craved, they needed. Or don’t, and keep living like they had been, scraping out an hour or two here or there, wherever they could. Not enough. Never enough. Creating tension, creating strain, making things more difficult, more painful than they had to be.
Simple. Make the time. He could do that.
“I—” He cut off, his mind going into overdrive as he thought about what exactly would be the best way to proceed. Because he was definitely doing it. He wanted it too much, knew she wanted it too much to not. A part of him, the part that had wanted to give Malia a Christmas to remember from that start, do something significant, was still there, still fighting to make itself heard. And this time, it came with an idea, something to do, something that might be able to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. “I need to make some calls,” he said, after a moment, looking over at Stilinski, who just nodded, a knowing smile on his face. “You’re coming to Lydia’s party, right?”
“I am.”
“Mind being a little late? If things go well, I might need someone to play taxi for a bit.”
“No problem. I’m already in my party clothes.” Stilinski tapped the red sweater he was wearing in place of his usual uniform. “Whatever you need.”
“Thanks,” Scott said, already reaching for his phone. Pulling it out, he scrolled through his contacts, looking for the right one. As he hit the name and brought his phone up to his ear, he sent up a quick prayer that his call would be answered, and a second later, it was. “Derek! Hey, it’s Scott. No, no problems here. How about with you? Good, that’s great. Listen, I was hoping you could help me with something…”
From across the room, Scott could feel Malia’s gaze on him, and tried his best to ignore it. He knew why she was watching him so intently, knew she was trying to figure out why he’d been making the rounds all night, talking privately with a bunch of their friends, one at a time. Keeping his voice low enough so she couldn’t overhear had been a challenge, but it was all for a great cause. The best cause.
From the moment he’d walked through the door, it had taken everything he had not to show his emotions. He was excited, several successful phone calls and some other preparations getting his plan into motion, and ready to go. All the talks with his friends had been equally productive as well. So far, everything was going exactly like he’d hoped for when the idea had first come to him. But he was also nervous. Nervous about how Malia was going to take it, how she’d react. He thought she’d love it, hoped she’d love it. But until he actually told her and saw her reaction, there were going to be some nerves. And it was obvious she’d picked up on some of how he was feeling, from the way she was watching him.
“She’s headed this way,” Lydia warned him in a whisper, as they were wrapping up their hushed conversation.
Giving her a quick, appreciative nod, Scott straightened up and pasted a wide smile on his face. “Great party, by the way,” he said in his normal speaking voice, loud enough for Malia to catch every word. “Can’t believe you managed to throw this all together in a couple of days.”
As far as fake conversation went, it wasn’t his best effort. It also wasn’t untrue. Under other circumstances, he would have been very impressed by just how much she’d been able to do in such a short time. Her whole house was all done up, decorated like something more likely to be seen in a magazine or maybe a Hallmark movie, lights and ornaments hanging everywhere, yet still somehow appearing tasteful rather than cluttered. Throw in an unbelievable amount of food, enough to feed a small army, and the warm ambiance that could only come from a gathering of people who knew and cared about each other immensely, and it made for an incredible scene.
It was great, truly, and he couldn’t wait to leave.
Before either of them could say anything else, Malia arrived, coming up alongside him, and worming her way under his arm. “Are you trying to avoid me?” she asked, as he lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulders.
“No,” Lydia said, jumping in before he could reply. “He was just wishing me a Merry Christmas.”
Scott tried his best to keep a straight face as he nodded, playing along. The expression of complete disbelief on Malia’s face as she looked from him to Lydia and back again didn’t make it easy, but he tried.
“Uh-huh,” she said, after a protracted moment of silence. “Right. And everybody else? I suppose you were just wishing them a Merry Christmas too, huh?”
“Exactly.”
“Bullshit.”
“Nope, not bullshit.” He knew his lips were twitching, but he couldn’t help it. He was in a good mood, and even though keeping the why a secret was important right now, it was hard to keep a lid on it. He wanted it to be a big surprise, but he also wanted to tell her everything. Not exactly compatible desires. “I just wanted to get it out of the way, ‘cause I was thinking we might get out of here early.” He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from full-on grinning at the sudden wild hope that flared to life in her eyes then. “I mean, if you want to, I guess.”
“I’d like that.” Her cautious reply was punctuated by a pointed look at Lydia, who didn’t even bother trying to fight her own grin. Malia seemed to take that as a good sign, as she cocked her head slightly and raised an eyebrow. “You’re cool with us leaving?”
Lydia waved her hand dismissively, then gestured toward the door. “Of course. Go. You two have put in your time tonight. Go have some fun. I’ll talk to you…” She paused, her grin widening as her eyes moved briefly to Scott’s. “Well, I’ll talk to you soon.”
Malia was already turning away, her arm hooked through his, pulling him along after her. He just had time to raise a hand in farewell, and they were gone, cutting across the room, heading straight for the door. She didn’t even pause in her step when Liam waved from across the room, trying to get their attention. It was pretty clear she had no plans of stopping for anyone or anything, probably worried something would come up, and they’d have to stay. He spotted Stiles sitting with his dad in the corner on the way by, and got an encouraging nod from the latter and a thumbs-up from his best friend. There wasn’t even time to say anything to them, to react at all, because a second later, they were at the door, and escaping out into the chilly night air.
“Slow down,” he said, laughter colouring his voice, as the door closed behind them, leaving them completely alone. A tug on their entwined arms had her turning back toward him, and he wrapped his free arm around her waist. “We don’t have to hurry,” he murmured, pulling her close, tight to him. “We’ve got all night to ourselves.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Do we? You sure?”
He tried not to grin too wide. “Positive.”
For a second, she was quiet, just studying him through narrowed eyes. He didn’t say a word, just let her look until she found whatever she was looking forward. “Hmmm,” she eventually said, her expression softening. “Okay.” She leaned in to kiss him, but paused just before their lips could touch. “Wait.” Pulling back a bit, she shot him that same suspicion-filled look from a moment ago. “Is that what you were doing in there? Getting them to back off for a night?”
Letting out a noncommittal hum, he shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe I just have faith. Either way, I think we’re on our own. Now…” Trailing off, he went in for a kiss, and this time, they connected. And he would have been happy to stand there, bathed in the glow of the light flooding out through the window in the door, but there were other places he needed to be. So, after a moment, he reluctantly pulled away, a gentle smile on his face, and nodded toward her car. “Let’s get out of here.”
The answering smile she shot him lit up the dark like a lighthouse, and he felt a thrill of nervous anticipation shoot through him as she took his hand and led him toward the car.
“Oh, I need to make a stop on the way,” he said, as they neared the car. “I need to pick something up. For Christmas,” he elaborated, when she flashed him a look that was equal parts suspicious and mutinous. With a sheepish grin, he held up his free hand, a silent plea for a little understanding. “It won’t take long, I promise. Just a quick stop and then we’re home free, all right?” He waited until she finally nodded her acceptance before he extended his hand. “Mind if I drive?”
The ride that followed didn’t take long, but Scott could feel his nervousness growing the entire time. He had to work not to let his fingers drum on the steering wheel, still trying to seem as at ease as he could. He wasn’t sure how well it was working, but Malia never commented on it, so he was counting that as a win.
“Scott,” she said, when they finally pulled into a driveway and came to a stop. “Where the hell are we?”
Where they were was a little house in a quiet neighbourhood not far from downtown Beacon Hills. It was a single-story building, with a small deck out front, on a small bit of land ringed all the way around by a short hedge. There were neighbours on both sides, but with the hedge, and a decent bit of lawn between them, nobody was overly close. There were no lights on, no decorations, nothing to indicate anybody lived there. And nobody did. The last tenants had moved out a couple weeks ago, according to Derek.
In short, it was perfect.
“Derek owns it,” he said, as he put the car in park and peered out at the house. “I guess it belonged to a cousin or something. He’s been renting it out for years, but it’s empty now.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, eyes roving from him to the house and back again. “And why are we here?”
“He’s holding something for me here.” Not quite the truth, but close enough.
“A Christmas gift?” When he nodded, her eyes lit up. “Ooh, is it for me?”
He shot her a grin. “No comment. Now, come on, I need your help.”
Again, that earned him a suspicious look, but she followed him out of the car, and up onto the porch without further question. As he grabbed the spare key from under a pot plant, where Derek had told him it would be, he took a deep breath, one last attempt to quash the nerves fluttering in his belly. Then he unlocked the door and led the way inside.
The interior of the house matched the exterior pretty well. It was small, but neat, and very clean. A small hallway inside the door led to an open kitchen, with another hallway on the right that led to a bedroom and a bathroom. On the left was an open arch about twice the width of a doorway, with the living room on the other side. That Scott was able to get all the way into the living room before he turned on a light, without bumping into anything in the dark or hesitating even once probably gave away the fact that he’d been in the house before, but there was nothing he could do about that.
Once he flicked the switch on the wall, and the room was flooded with light from the small fixture hanging from the center of the ceiling, it was time. Slowly, he turned to face Malia, who was peering around, her suspicion temporarily overwhelmed by curiosity.
“What do you think?” he asked softly, drawing her attention to him.
Her brow furrowed. “About what? I thought we were here to pick up a gift.”
“We are. Sort of. Here.” Slowly, he stretched out his hand, curled into a loose fist, with something held inside it. Bemused, she hesitated for a second, before she stuck out her own hand, and accepted what he was offering. “Merry Christmas.”
A moment of complete silence followed, and he could hear his heart beating in his chest as she slowly held up the key he’d given her. “I—what’s this?” she finally asked, turning confusion-filled eyes on him.
“It’s the key to this place,” he stated, eyes locked on hers.
“I don’t understand.”
This was it. It was time. The reveal. The big moment. Finally.
“It’s your gift. One of your gifts,” he quickly amended, grinning when her eyebrows shot up. “For the next two weeks, this place…” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to everything around them, the battered but clean furniture, the scarred but polished floors. “It’s ours. We’re gonna be staying here, just us. And as long as we’re here, we’re not gonna be disturbed or bothered by anybody, unless it’s literally a life or death emergency. That’s what I was doing tonight, letting everybody know we’re on vacation.” He paused, taking in her stunned expression, the way her mouth was gaping open ever so slightly, and smiled. “I know it’s not exactly a cabin in the mountains, but—
His words were lost then as she surged forward, her arms wrapping around him, and pulled him into a bruising kiss. Suddenly, his heart was beating fast for other reasons, as she worked her lips over his. He could taste her emotions, her excitement, happiness, love, and it was intoxicating. And when she finally pulled away, her cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, it was all he could do not to fall over, grasping her tight.
“That’s… this is…” She threw back her head and laughed, a joyous sound that had him grinning madly. “This is amazing, Scott. How did you pull this off? What made you think of this?”
He shrugged. “I got some good advice tonight about making time for the people you love. And I love you. Everything else, as important as it is… it’s not you.” He had to swallow then, at the way her expression shifted, softening in a way that made his heart skip a beat. “We can’t run away, but we can hide for a little bit. Derek offered up this place when I called him, and he’s gonna come back to town for a couple weeks, just in case any minor trouble crops up. We can still do some of the stuff we planned, but everybody knows now not to call unless it’s a real emergency. As long as we’re here, in this house, we’re as incommunicado as we can be. If we don’t want to go out, we don’t have to. It’s—it’s as close to a real vacation as we can take. And it’s what we need, I think. They get that.”
“They’d better,” she growled, but there was no real heat behind it. There couldn’t be. She was riding to high on the situation, too giddy to be anything but ecstatic. He could see it in her eyes, on her face, even in the way she was standing, almost vibrating with happy energy. “I—I guess we need clothes and stuff, right?”
He was shaking his head even before she got the question all the way out. “Already taken care of.” He grinned sheepishly when she arched an eyebrow. “That’s why I was late to the party. Our suitcases are in the bedroom. Made up the bed. Made sure the wi-fi was working. Filled the fridge. All our gifts are in the closet. I even brought some decorations, if you want to hang some up later. Uh, I picked up some—” He cut off at the look she was giving him. “What?”
Her eyes were blazing. “You really thought this through, huh?” He nodded, unwilling to admit he’d been completely winging it, acting on a plan he’d come up with in about thirty seconds and plunged ahead with without a second thought. “I’m impressed.”
“Well, I’m pretty impressive.”
She grinned. “And so humble.” There was a moment of silence then, as her grin slowly morphed into something softer. “Scott, this is—this is perfect. I love it. I love you. Thank you.”
Seeing that smile, hearing her words, made him feel a hundred feet tall. Suddenly, all that frustration, all that strain, that stress he’d been feeling was gone. Because he had her, and she had him, and they had this. It wasn’t a cure-all. It wasn’t going to solve all their problems, or make their lives any less dangerous. But it was going to give them something they both wanted, something they both needed. Time with each other, time to be together, in a way they’d had precious little of right from the very beginning of their relationship. He couldn’t ask for more. He had no need to ask for more. It was exactly what he’d wanted all along. And now, it was a reality.
“You’re welcome.” His voice was husky, choked with emotion, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. If there was anything to be emotional about, it was this. It was her. “I love you too. And I want you to know I’m sorry it took this long to get to this point. I’m sorry I didn’t do this soon—”
“Scott.” There was something in her voice, a smouldering note that stopped him dead, had him looking at her, tongue-tied. Whatever it was, he could see the same thing burning in the depths of her eyes, and it had his heart pounding again, this time with anticipation. “Stop talking. You know what I think?”
“What that?” he managed to get out, after swallowing heavily.
“I think we’re alone. Finally. Truly alone.” As she spoke, she trailed a finger along his shoulder, and down his chest. “And I’m feeling very appreciative of that fact. If you know what I mean.” Her finger dipped down suddenly, hooking under his belt, and she leaned in close. “You’ve made time for us,” she whispered, breath warm against his ear. “How about we make use of it?”
Now there was an offer he couldn’t refuse.