Chapter Text
Jubal’s feet were bare, legs stretched across her coffee table. He had one arm behind his head, the other nursing a coffee he hadn’t even taken a sip from. Isobel was curled on the other side of the couch in one of his t-shirts, hair damp from the shower, glasses on, flipping idly through a case folder she wasn’t really reading.
Outside, the city hummed with early holiday buzz — scaffolding hung with string lights, street corners scented with roasted nuts and burnt pretzels. Somewhere below, a siren wailed, distant and low. But inside, the townhouse was warm.
Peaceful.
“Are you ignoring me,” Jubal asked, “or just thinking about arresting me if I bring this up again?”
She didn’t look up. “Define ‘this.’”
“Thanksgiving.”
She turned the page dramatically. “I thought we already gave thanks — you, me, the couch, Bonfire night.”
“This is family Thanksgiving.”
Now she looked up, eyes narrowing. “You mean your family. Your mother. Who the first time I met her was practically planning our wedding.”
“Not a bad plan, in hindsight.”
“She had a Pinterest board!, oh and your brother Jake hit on me.”
Jubal winced. “He was drunk.”
“He was chewing mint Tic Tacs and called me ‘dangerously efficient.’”
“That’s a compliment where he’s from.”
“And your daughter,” Isobel went on, flipping the file shut and setting it aside, “asked if we’d had sex in her grandparents’ house.”
“She’s very perceptive,” Jubal muttered, cheeks colouring.
“She was ten, Jubal.”
“She’s eleven now. You’re practically family.”
She just stared at him.
He sighed. “Okay. So we don’t go there. Let’s host it here. Your place.”
Isobel blinked. “I’m sorry. Did you just suggest inviting your entire family into my home?”
He shrugged. “It’s central. Easy for the kids. My parents love the city. Jake’s busy with his new girlfriend-slash-nutritionist, so he’s out. And the team’s already seen us half-undressed at the Halloween party. Might as well bring the turkey to them.”
She raised an eyebrow. “The team?”
“You know Maggie will guilt-trip us into a Friendsgiving if we don’t include them. Might as well consolidate.”
“Consolidate.”
“Efficient, right?”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Look,” he said, softening, sitting up to face her. “It’s our first real holiday… as us. Out in the open. No hiding. No sneaking around. I know it’s a lot. But it’s also… time.”
Isobel let out a slow breath.
Jubal reached for her hand. “We can keep it small. You cook nothing. We order everything. I’ll even do the dishes.”
She smirked. “You don’t know where I keep the dishes.”
“I’ll find them. I’m an agent.”
She stared at him, her expression unreadable for a long moment — then finally gave a slow nod.
“One condition,” she said.
“Anything.”
“You wear the apron.”
He blinked. “The one that says—?”
“‘FBI: Full-Bodied & Irresistible.’”
He groaned, falling back onto the couch with a grin. “You’re evil.”
“You’re lucky I’m giving thanks for you.”