Chapter Text
Karadec almost convinces himself not to go. He stands in the middle of his apartment with a shirt in one hand and his phone in the other, staring at the message on the screen like it was going to change if he looked at it hard enough.
LT. SOTO: Don't forget the party tonight. Bring something!
He lets out a hard exhale and sets the phone down harder than he probably needs to, like its responsible for his problems. Karadec goes to his closet and stares at the rows of shirts like they’re suspects in an interrogation. Everything is dark. Everything is practical. Everything is safe. His hand first drifts over to a black sweater but he figures that's probably too casual. The sweater gets shoved to the back and he pulls out a dark green button down instead.
He rolls the sleeves up to his forearms; checks himself in the mirror once, then again, telling himself it's for professionalism. It's not, though. Last year it certainly would have been but this year was different. This year, Morgan was going to be there. The detective wasn't exactly sure when he started to care how he looked or acted around her but it was probably somwhere around the time that Ava had sent him a photo of the two of them sleeping on the couch after Thanksgiving dinner.
Lying to himself is easier than admitting the truth, and he likes easy. Plus, there's absolutely no indication that Morgan thinks about him in the way that he thinks about her. Thoughts about her seeing him in something other than his work attire. The shirt he picks is about two-hundered dollars nicer than the ones he usually wore and his pants are about the only thing he owns that are tailored. He finishes the outfit off with a simple gold watch and a gold chain that his sister had sent him more years ago than he could count.
The Lieutenant had told him to bring something so he picks the easiest thing he can think of, instant hot chocolate. He's got a pack in the back of his cupboard that he got last Christmas in a secret santa exchange. It was slightly concering to him how it didn't expire for another seven months so he sticks it in a gift bag, adds a bit of tissue paper, and calls it good enough. He grabs his coat from its spot in the closet and the moment he slips it on he realizes he must not have worn it since Thanksgiving.
It still smelled like Morgan.
Vanilla and cherry and a hint of cinnamon.
Great. Karadec can now identify exactly what's in her perfume.
He locks the door and checks it again, taking a deep breath and mentally preparing himself for the night that was ahead. Soto's Christmas Eve party wasn't something that he was necessarily comfortable with, evident by the way both his hands are kept on the steering wheel as he drives; the heater is turned all the way up to combat the still chilly air outside. It had gotten warmer for a week or two and then colder again. He tells himself that he's going to this because it's good for appearences. Soto asked him to go and he owes a lot to her. It's professional and he knows she doesn't expect him to participate in any games or socialize too much, but he wants him to be present.
Soto's neighborhood is decorated very traditionally. Soothing yellow-white lights on the houses were likely hung professionally and only a few houses had blow-up decorations in the yard. Her own house— which would likely be considered a mansion in any other area but was just a pretty big house in Hollywood— was a buzz of activity. There had to be at least thirty cars lined up on the street, a few squad cars but most unmarked or civilian.
He approaches the house that he had been to on multiple occasions like he was surveying a crime scene. Automatically he starts making a mental map of the property—where the windows are, the door, every shadow and tree in the yard— and then he nearly pinches himself because what is he doing? This is a party! There's no threat here, only the unfortunate promise of forced conversation. Among the cars, he doesn't notice Morgan's and momentarily it crosses his mind that maybe she's not coming.
That wouldn't make sense, though. This is a party and it's Morgan. The party doesn't start until she arrives.
Karadec lifts his hand to knock but before he can, the door is swiftly opened and he's nearly knocked to the ground by an overly-eager Oz.
"Karadec!" Oz exclaims, taking the gift bag and pulling the senior detective inside with a yank. The warmth of the house wraps around him like a big bear hug; baked sugar lingers in the air, and a million different conversations are happening all around him as he's pulled through the entryway and into the living room.
He hates it immediately.
Soto is in the living room, laughing with a group that he only recognized a few members of. She breaks from the conversation as soon as she sees him, a sharp grin on her face. "Adam. You look wonderful." She substitutes a hug for a gentle squeeze of his arm. She waves absently towards the kitchen. "Go put your coat somewhere. And don't stand in the corner all night like you're looking for a reason to arrest someone."
"I won't," he says automatically and she lets out a sharp laugh like she doesn't believe him.
He hangs his coat up neatly before heading to the kitchen for a drink. Daphne's there decorating cookies and somehow Oz has already made his way in as well.
"Karadec!" Daphne says with a smile. "You made it!"
"I did."
Daphne pushes a glass of eggnog into his hand. "Soto insists, she made it herself. Pretty good this year, actually. Morgan should be bringing her peppermint bark to eat with it later."
Karadec frowns at the milky liquid in the cup. He'd never really been a fan of the stuff, something about the way it was made made his skin crawl. "It's… festive," he remarks, bringing it to his lips and taking a tentative sip. Ugh. Still as bad as he remembered. At least the alcohol would help dull the headache that was already forming at his temples. He chugs the rest down with a shudder and ignores the looks from his two detectives as he switches it out for whiskey instead.
He drifts to the edge of the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as he watched the people. He focused more on what they were doing- body language, expression, that sort of thing rather than the people themselves. A few people come up and say hello to him but mostly they know he's only here for appearences. He checks the time and is upset to see that barely ten minutes have gone by.
Somewhere in that ten minutes, Karadec's eyes had drifted from the entryway and he missed the arrival of the only person he was slightly looking forward to seeing. He feels it before he sees it, the way the room shifts and gets slightly louder as she steps through the people and towards the kitchen. She laughs at Oz as he engulfs her in a hug, the sound hitting Karadec like a punch straight to the face.
Morgan's not even halfway to him and Karadec can already feel her staring. She's watching him. He realizes why the second Oz moves out of the way and he's able to see what she's wearing.
The dress isn't necessarily the problem. It's great. She looks great. Morgan could wrap a thrift store curtain around herslef and make it presentable. It was just the color of the dress that caught him off guard.
Dark green.
Of course it was.
The exact same shade of green that he was wearing. She had inadvertantly matched him. Her hair is curled and his eyes stay just as glued to her as hers are to him as she peels of her coat, handing Oz whatever goodies she had brought, something about peppermint bark, he remembers. Daphne hugs Morgan, too, like it's the most natural thing in the world for two people to do.
Morgan lifts her hand in a wave that seems almost shy and he nods in acknowledgment. She makes his way over to him, a content expression on her face.
"Karadec! Enjoying the party? I thought you said you were going to try your best to get out of this tonight?"
"Since when do I enjoy parties, Morgan?"
"Ah, but it wasn't truly a party until I got here, was it?" Her shoulder bumps his and he tightens his grip on his glass. "So now you can start enjoying it!"
"I suppose." Karadec lifts the glazs to his lips but is unfortunately already out of whiskey. "Daphne mentioned you were bringing peppermint bark?"
Morgan points toward the kitchen. "Oz stole it immediately. Like a raccoon on a mission!"
Karadec hums out an acknowledgment, finally letting himself actually look at her. The dress is even more gorgeous close-up. The cut is incredibly flattering and if he didn't know what her home life was like, he would've thought it was a designer brand, specifically tailored for her. The v-neck was high enough to cover everything but still low enough to make his gaze linger.
"You gonna keep staring or are you going to compliment me?" Morgan's question snaps him out of his thoughts and he immediatly looks from her dress up to her eyes.
"Ah. I- It's a stunning dress. You look stunning."
She grins. "Why, thank you! I got it on sale at Goodwill! Some older lady had donated all her old dresses and this just happened to fit me perfectly." Ah, that explained it. "I also noticed you decided to match me. You look fantastic, by the way. That shirt looks like it could pay my months mortgage." Her eyes drift to his chest, where the buttons weren't done all the way up, she lingered there for a second longer than she probably needed to but damn. He fished his wish, she enjoyed looking at him in something other than work clothes.
Karadec raises his eyebrows, his stomach twisting. He was really hoping she wouldn't bring that up. "Sure you didn't match me?" He doesn't know why he asks it, why he eggs her on. The reaction from her is a reward enough. Morgan's eyes twinkle as she takes his glass. As it changes hands their fingers touch, the interaction not going unnoticed by either of them.
Before he can say what he wants to, Soto pops towards them. Somewhere in the last thirty minutes since Karadec had seen her, she had found an ugly sweater to wear. Stitched across it are the words "Police Navidad" and the decorations surrounding it were absolutely atrocius. He wondered where in the world she found such a thing. "You two!" She says excitedly. "Get something to eat and be back in the living room in exactly twenty minutes for games! No arguments, Adam! This is Christmas and you will enjoy it, whether you want to or not." She makes her way to the center of the room, clinking her glass to get everyone's attention. "Alright! There are cookies, other snacks, hot chocolate, and suspiciously strong eggnog! If anyone brings up work I'm throwing you in the backyard!"
There's a chorus of cheers from throughout the room but it just makes Karadec more irritated.
"More whiskey?" Morgan offers, holding up his glass. He agrees quickly, following her into the kitchen. "Y'know, I'm really surprised you're here tonight."
"Wasn't optional."
"Ah, I see. Keeping up appearances. I wouldn't have thought you would care too much about that."
He didn't. He would have come up with some other excuse if she wouldn't have come.
Karadec stands close to the door to the garage, staying out of the way as people shuffled in and out of the kitchen, grabbing snacks and drinks and overall enjoying themselves. He watches Morgan pour his whiskey and get herself some eggnog and wonders for a brief second what it would be like to have her do that in his own kitchen. Really, he couldn't keep his eyes off her at all.
She wasn't the kind of person you could not notice. Lately he had been noticing not just her, but things about her; little things, like how she always played with her finger when she was listening, almost like she was fiddling with a ring that was no longer there. He saw it a lot in divorced individuals but Morgan had never been married so that didn't make sense. Maybe he would ask her about it sometime. There wasn't time now as a man he didn't recognize greeted her. Morgan looked happy about the interaction, hugging him with one of those awkward side hugs Karadec hated. He hated real hugs, too, but you might as well do it all the way if you're going to do it.
Morgan says something that he can't hear from his place in the corner and just once he wished he would have been closer to al lthe people, he was a detective who loved to eavesdrop. Who could blame him? The man is tall with a small scar on his hand and when his sleeve shifts, Karadec can see he's wearing a watch that was probably customary in a neighborhood like this, but certainly not in a police precinct.
The man laughs at whatever Morgan's said and something pangs Karadec in the ribs. Jealousy? No. It couldn't be jealousy, that would be ridiculous. Adam Karadec didn't get jealous. He was just annoyed, yes, that's it! Annoyed because Morgan was still holding onto his whiskey which he desperatly needed to calm his head.
Morgan and the man part ways after another minute and she makes her way over to him.
"You're standing like a bouncer," Morgan remarks, handing him the drink, "not a guy at a Christmas party. Have some cheer Karadec!" He cracks a little smile at her antics and she giggles. "See!! You can do it. What a big boy!"
"Who was that guy?" Karadec finds himself asking.
"Oh! That's Michael DiMatteo. He's Soto's neighbor but also, ironically, Ava's history teacher. Don't tell her I told you, but I think she's got a little crush on him."
"A history teacher can afford to live in this neighborhood?"
"Well, a history teacher with two PhDs and a wife who is a lawyer for the department, yeah. Camille DiMatteo and I have been friends for years. He said she's here somewhere but I haven't seen her yet." She stands on her tiptoes, looking around for her friend.
Something in Karadec calms when he hears the word "wife" and he wonders what exactly that means for him.
By the time the white elephant starts, the room had shifted into that loud, comfortable chaos that only happened when people had too much sugar and alcohol to remember their dignity.
Soto claps her hands, getting everyone's attention. "Okay! Rules. Pick a number. Keep or steal. No fighting. Oz, I'm looking at you!"
Oz holds up both hands, a look of mock offense on his face. "I'm innocent, I swear!"
Daphne, seated beside him on the floor, laughs. "He definitely is not."
Morgan ended up on the floor near the giant Christmas tree, wedged between Daphne and a woman she had spent a few minutes talking to. He guessed that must be Camille. Karadec was barely in the circle, his arms folded, like he was guarding the exit from the ghost of Christmas past.
He keeps his eyes on Morgan and she briefly meets his, her relaxed expression turning into something confused. He sucks in a breath before very deliberately looking away. She's still visible in his periphery and she whispers something to Daphne who frowns, looking back in his direction.
"Mind if I squeeze in here?" Someone asks from beside him and he turns to see who it is.
Michael.
Of course it was Michael.
"Sure," Karadec deadpans.
"I'm Michael," Michael says. "I'm sure Gillory already told you about me. The two of you are partners in Major Crimes, right?"
"Uh, yeah. She's my consultant, not my partner. But yeah."
"So you two are a thing on the side, right? I mean, I just figured with the fact you were matching and everything."
Karadec's eyes widen and he stutters something out. "No. No, we're just friends."
Michael's eyebrows shoot up and he shakes his head. "Right. Weird."
Now it's Karadec's turn to look confused. "What?"
"Oh, nothing. Her daughter's in my class and she talks about the two of you non-stop."
Karadec doesn't have time to dwell on that as Soto hands out numbers. Karadec gets five, Morgan gets seven.
He would pick before her.
Cool. Great. Totally not important at all in the grand scheme of things.
The game starts and the first few gifts are insanely chaotic: a mug shaped like a grenande, a mini waffle maker that immediatly got stolen, and a blanket with cats wearing santa hats on it.
The room erupts into laughter when Oz unwraps a photo frame with a picture of Soto giving a thumbs up, because apparently someone had decided printing it out and wrapping it was the best idea ever.
Soto rips it out of Oz's hand, holding it up for all to see. "Who did this?"
Oz points at Morgan and Karadec has to fight a smile, of course she would be the one. "It felt appropriate," Morgan shrugs.
Soto shook her head, trying not to laugh. "Unbelievable. You are all unbelievable!"
Karadec's turn comes and he approaches the pile of gits with a frown, picking one up that was neatly wrapped in a box shape. He unwrapped it carefully, trying to preserve the paper and he swears someone grumbles something about his methods.
Inside was a knit scarf. Dark, soft, and… actually very nice. Normal.
Morgan blinks. "Oh. You got a normal gift."
Karadec's eyes flick to her. "Apparently."
Someone across the circle laughs, breaking their tension. "That's the most Karadec gift possible!"
Karadec didn't react but everyone around him seemed to agree.
It's Morgan's turn soon after and she keeps her eyes on him as she goes to the pile, picking up a gift that was suspiciously small and light. Tearing the paper off, it revealed a pink decorative sign that read "LIVE, LAUGH, LARCENY" with glitter.
Morgan stares at him, then back at the gift. Camille wheezes a laugh beside Morgan. "No way." She says, trying to keep it together.
"Oz!" Soto exclaims. "I told you to bring something useful for once!"
Oz whips his head around to look at Daphne, pointing accusingly. "It was her!"
"Detective Forrester!" Morgan hollers, "You did not! I will trade this for literally anything. Who wants it?" Morgan looks around as several hands shoot up. She surveys the room before her eyes land back on Karadec.
"Morgan-" he says in a warning tone. "Whatever you're thinking…"
Morgan grins, getting up from her spot on the floor. She makes her way across the room with purpose before stopping right in front of him. "I'm stealing Karadec's scarf," she announces loudly. Morgan's eyes twinkle with the lights of the Christmas decorations.
"No way," Michael whispers, stepping away from Karadec to let Morgan through.
"Scarf please." She holds out both her hands. In one, her own gift, the other empty, waiting suspensefully to see what he was going to do.
Karadec swallows hard. "Fine. Come and get it then."
The room was loud but suddenly it felt like it was just the two of them in the huge space. Morgan and Karadec were roughly the same height but there was enough difference in the length of their arms that when Karadec held the scarf above her head, she couldn't quite reach it. She quickly fixes the problem by grabbing his arm and yanking it down, snatching the scarf and replacing it with the glittery sign.
Morgan's breath hitches at the contact there body makes as she trips, leaning into him for balance. She rights herself with a step, smirking as she runs back to her spot, sittinf down with an all-too triumphant look on her face.
Karadec's had enough. He shoves the sign into Michael's hand and heads out of the room.
Karadec is found sometime later on the back deck, overlooking the valley, by Oz and Daphne. Well, maybe not found. Found would imply that someone was actually looking for him. Instead, the pair of detectives stumbled upon him as they snuck out with cookies in hand.
"Shhh!" Daphne hushes him. "Someone's going to see us!"
"No one's going to see us," Oz laughs, grabbing her hand tightly.
Karadec watches them from his spot and is about to make himself known when Daphne spots him first.
"Oh!" She exclaims, pulling her hand away from Oz's. "Karadec, we thought you left!"
"No. Still here."
"Perfect!" Oz digs around in the gift bag he had looped around his arm. "I was going to take this home and give it to you Monday but since you're still here!" He passes the "LIVE, LAUGH, LARCENY" sign to him and Karadec groans. "No one wanted to take it from you. I guess we all figured we'd get more joy seeing you have to deal with it then keeping it for ourselves."
Karadec takes it with a frown. "Thanks so much," he says sarcastically.
"Morgan was looking for you," Oz adds.
"She thinks you're avoiding her, you know," Daphne says softly.
"I'm not avoiding her," Karadec argues.
Daphne snorts, rolling her eyes. "Sure looks like you are. What's going on with the two of you anyways? You've been off ever since you went to her house for Thanksgiving. Why don't you just tell her you like her?"
Karadec chokes on his drink, his eyes wide as he looks at both of them. "I think you're confusing us with yourselves." It comes out harsher than he intended but neither of them flinched.
Oz ignores the comment and just shakes his head. "Really? Because that little stunt you pulled with the scarf seemed a lot like flirting to me. And you can't tell me you weren't jealous when she was talking to that guy."
Karadec goes to argue but Daphne holds up her hand. "We see everything so don't pretend it didn't happen. Either tell Morgan how you feel or stop leading her on. It's not fair to her."
He shifts his weight uncomfortably. "We work together. I don't date coworkers. It might work for the two of you but it won't work for me. And there's no indication that she sees me the way I see her."
This provokes a laugh from both of them, to the point where they can barely speak. "Karadec," Daphne puts her hand on his shoulder. "Have you seen the picture of the two of you from Thanksgiving?" He has. "What part of falling asleep on the couch after drinking too much screams 'she's just a friend?'"
"You saw the picture?" Karadec asks incredulously. The look of confusion on Oz's face is similar to the surprise on Karadec's and he realizes it was probably just something that Morgan told Daphne, not necessarily the whole station.
"Look. I told Morgan that if you hadn't left yet you would probably be sulking out here in the miserable cold. She'll be out any minute so Oz and I are going to make ourselves scarce. Okay? Okay." She pats him on the shoulder, taking Oz's hand again who just mouths a 'good luck.'
Karadec runs a hand down his face. Sure, almost telling her that he has feelings or her while he was too drunk to drive is one thing (especially since she was actually asleep) btu telling her straight to her face when neither of them are drunk and she's obviously not asleep are two very different things. His mind can't wander to too many places because soon the sliding door to the backyard opens and Morgan steps out, wearing the scarf she stole from him.
She glances to the right before noticing him on the left. It's cold enough out to see her breath, coming out quick as she lets out a long harsh breath.
"Karadec we all thought you left. What are you doing out here in the cold?"
"You came out here just for me?" He lifts an eyebrow.
"Not just for you," she teases. "Soto started karaoke and my head's already buzzing. The last thing I need is to listen to the rookies screaming out of tune."
The air that smelled like pine and smoke from somehwere far away now had the soft scent of vanilla, cherry, and cinnamon. For a moment they just stand there, looking out over the valley and to the darkness below.
"You're doing it again," Morgan says suddenly.
He glances at her. "Doing what?"
"Scanning the terrain like it's a crime scene. You were doing the same thing in the house. You can relax, the only thing out here is the cold and maybe a raccoon or two." She scoots a step closer. "Something on your mind, Karadec?"
"Why would you ask that?" He shoves his hands down in his pockets, not meeting her eyes.
"Do you know something I don't?"
"Like what?"
Morgan lets out a breath of disbelief. "What's your game?"
"My game?" This time he's the one to chuckle in agitation. "There's no game, Morgan. What about you?"
"What about me? I just enjoy talking to you. Which is honestly funny if you think about it seeing as you can be so insufferable at times. I'm more concerned about whatever it is you were trying to get from me today. I mean, really, holding the scarf just out of reach? That's something the high school bully would do when he has a crush!"
Karadec huffs. "We're not doing this."
Just because he wants to doesn't mean it's a good idea. "You flirted with me," Morgan says pointedly.
Karadec barks a laugh. "No. That wasn't flirting."
"Yeah, pretty sure it was. You care what people think about you which means that was extremely out of character for you."
"Morgan, if I cared what people thought about me I wouldn't have gone to your house for Thanksgiving and I sure as hell wouldn't have come to this party tonight."
"But see, that makes me think you do care. You said you were just here for appearences so if that's not why, if you don't care what people think, then there has to be another reason you're here."
Karadec's heart twists. Morgan was even attractive when she argued.
Great.
"Why are you here?" He snaps. "You've mentioned more than once that Christmas Eve is a "sacred day" in the Gillory household. Something about gingerbread building contests? You're clearly uncomfortable in that dress, so why wear it in the first place?" He had noticed over the course of the evening that even though she looked fantastic, she was clearly uncomfortable. The way she kept picking at the dress and pulling it down, itching at her wrists where the long sleeves fell to.
"Damn it, Karadec!" Morgan exclaims. "I came tonight because I knew you were coming! I know how much you hate these things so I wanted to keep you company, make it more bearable. But then you pull a stunt like this, secluding yourself like some hermit because holidays suck so much for you!" She crosses her arms in annoyance and as a way to try and keep warm. "I get that your childhood wasn't perfect. Newsflash— neither was mine! But I still make the best of it! Everytime I tried to talk to you tonight you brushed me off, barely speaking in full sentences! And the only time you have said something you sound like you're flirting with me! I know Ava showed you the picture. Daphne just told me you've known about it for weeks."
"I'm leaving." Karadec turns on his heel, guilt overwhelming him by the form of a lump forming in his throat. He slides the door open, Morgan on his heels. He's about to close it behind him when Oz makes another appearence. Karadec loved the guy but was really tired of seeing him on this particular evening.
"Uh uh," Oz taunts, pointing up, making both Karadec and Morgan look. Karadec's heart rushes, his mouth drying up at the sight.
"That was not there before," Karadec mumbles at the mistletoe. "You had this planned, didn't you?" He turns back to Morgan who shakes her head in defense.
"It sounds like something they would have come up with." Morgan points at Oz and Daphne, who had appeared by his side once again.
"Come on Karadec, it's tradition." Daphne taunts. "We know how set on tradition you are."
"You don't have to," Morgan tells him gently. Her voice is softer now, the sharp edge from moments ago dulled by the cold and the way he looks like he’s bracing for impact. "Karadec?" The way she says it, so soft, so understanding.
His exhale is slow and heavy. "Morgan—" her name is rough in his throat.
She rises to her tiptoes instead. It's quick, chaste, just a soft press of her lips on his cheek. It's brief enough and in a respectful enough place that it could easily be forgotten. A peace offering satisfying their argument. It's done to make the onlookers happy and nothing else, nothing from Morgan herself. She pulls back instantly, walking around him to get out of the cold.
"There," she says with a smile.
Oz lets out an exasperated gasp. "Wow. Absolutely life-changing." His eyes narrow as he glares at Karadec, asking him to do something.
All Karadec can hear is the blood rushing in his ears. Before she can walk too far away, Karadec grabs the sleeve of her dress, stopping her from going any further. He kisses her softly, on the lips this time and for once— eggnog never tasted so good. Alcohol still lingered on her breath like a second high that he just couldn't get enough of. There was a reason he had to carry her to her bedroom that night, because he didn't trust the two of them to be drunk and tired together. Separate rooms were for the best. Now, he's almost completely sober.
Just a second or two after he pulls her in, there's a buzzing coming from somewhere. Karadec pulls back as Morgan shuffles to pull her phone out of her purse, turning away from him to answer it.
Karadec wants to say something to Oz but the room is empty except for the two of them. He can still hear laughing from the living room, signs that the party is still going on even though it's almost eleven.
"Yes, I'm so glad you called. He's right here."
Morgan taps him on the shoulder. "For you," she says, handing the phone over.
"Me? You sure?" Karadec raises an eyebrow, taking the phone from her anyways.
"Pretty sure." A smug smile plasters itself onto Morgan's face as she steps back to lean against the door jam.
"Hello?" Karadec answers.
"Hey, Adam. Merry Christmas."
His forehead wrinkles in confusion. He wasn't expecting a female voice, certainly not one that addressed him by his first name. "Sorry, who is this? Why are you calling Morgan and not me?"
The laugh on the other end of the line is light and carefree, not concerned at all like Karadec is. "Oh come on, Adam. I know it's been awhile but I can't believe you don't recognize your little sister's voice."
Karadec's breath catches in his throat, his mouth opening and closing as he looks over at Morgan who is getting more and more excited by the second. "Alya," he says in disbelief. "Wh-what… are you okay?"
"Of course I'm okay. A little jet lagged, but okay. You going to be home soon? The door's locked and I couldn't find a key under the mat."
"What are you talking about? Jet lagged? Why would you be…" he trails off, lowering the phone from his ear. "You didn't," he addresses Morgan.
She shrugs. "I might have."
"She did," Alya confirms when he raises the phone back up; Karadec can hear the smile in her voice. "I'm only here until the thirtieth so you better get your butt up here. See you soon."
Alya hangs up, leaving a still confused Karadec standing with Morgan's phone. She takes it gingerly, tucking it back in her purse.
"Morgan," Karadec says slowly. "My sister is at my apartment."
"Yeah well, she got an earlier flight." Morgan pulls his arm, leading him towards the entryway and to the front door. "The plan was for her to show up tomorrow morning but, you know. Some things don't always go to plan."
Karadec opens the door, closing it gently behind them, the cold hitting them harder than it had in the backyard. "How? H-how did you ever convince her to come here? She wanted nothing to do with me for years and then… w-why? Why would you do this?"
"Well. When you left after Thanksgiving, I kept having this nagging thought, and you know how I am with thoughts. I think. A lot." She waves her hands around, almost hitting him more than once. "Anyways. I used the information you gave me, along with your official LAPD database username and password— don't ask why I have those or how I got them, you don't want to know— and did what I could to find her.
"It didn't take long. You didn't tell me she was so accomplished! So, I found her phone number and called her."
"And got her to fly here… how exactly?"
"I told her the truth. That you spend holidays working, never taking time for yourself, and that you miss her. Karadec, it's been over ten years since you've seen her last."
"Yeah!" Karadec exclaims. "Ten years, Morgan! What the hell do I even say to her? 'Hey, sorry our parents died, I made rib roast, merry Christmas!'"
The words come off his tongue quick, too quick. He recoils, taking a step away from her to just take a breath.
Morgan looks at him with such kindness that he can't help but silently scold himself for his outburst. "You don't have to say anything clever. It's not an interrogation," she says gently. "You just have to show up. That's not too hard, right?"
He drags a hand through his hair, the harsh breath he lets out billows in front of his face as warm meets cold. "It's not that easy. We haven't spoken in years. Every time we would attempt to call it would turn into an argument so we stopped."
Morgan looks at her the way she always does when she's already pieced something together that he's still working on. "Did you leave her?"
Karadec opens his mouth. Closes it. Shakes his head in disbelief. "No." His jaw sets. "Alya left. It was her choice to go to Australia. Scholarship, research, everything she ever wanted." His voice tightens. "I was proud of her. I just… I guess I felt like with her gone, I had nothing left. She needed space while I needed routine and structure. Neither of us knew how to be their for the other without crossing those boundaries. It's not— it's not what my mom—" the word is like an unhealed bruise on his toungue, "it's not what she would have wanted."
Morgan steps closer, not too much to invade his space but enough that he can feel the warmth radiating from her. "That was then, right? This is now. She's here because she wants to fix things with you. It's okay to be a little afraid. I would be, too. That doesn't mean you should walk away from it. From her."
Karadec laughs under his breath, absolutely humorless. "Now she's just there… waiting outside my apartment."
"Yes," Morgan agrees. "With jet lag and probably an empty stomach."
He stares at her, wondering when his impulsive consultant turned into such a level headed partner. "Okay." He finally says.
"I'll even go with you if you need me to," she offers, a light hand resting on his shoulder.
"No. No, I think I'll be okay. I appreciate the offer but you're right. This is something I need to do for myself and for my sister."
Morgan gives a satisfied nod. "Good. Proud of you partner." She grins, walking down with him to his car. "And hey, if you do need to talk about it later, text me. I'll be up wrapping the rest of the kids' presents for awhile." She gives his hand a tight squeeze.
Karadec considers a more affectionate goodbye but he settles on a tight smile instead, telling her to let him know when she gets home safe. Karadec's drive home is similar to the drive to the party. Tight, calculated, focused. His thoughts are going in a billion different directions but this time it's because of his sister, not Morgan.
What if she's still angry?
What if she looks at him like she doesn't know him?
What if she's only here as a courtesy to Morgan?
Karadec pulls up to his building faster than he means to and his parking job is sub-par. It would bother him on any other night, but not tonight.
He can see his window from the road and notices that the light is on. Ms Reed from next door must have let Alya in with her emergency key. He takes a deep breath and says a half-hearted prayer to whomever may be listening before shutting off his car and getting out.
He walks up the stairs on autopilot, not bothering to step over the one that creaked loud enough to wake the dead. There's laughter coming from behind his door as his hand hovers over the door handle.
It opens from the inside before he can open it himself and Ms Reed steps out, a giant smile on her round face. "Oh Merry Christmas, Adam!" Her Canadian accent is thick and he wishes her a Merry Christmas, holding the door open for her as she hobbles away with her cane. He pushes the door open wider, and there she is. Standing barefoot in jeans and one of his old college hoodies that he hadn't seen in years. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun, her eyes sparkling in the light of his Christmas tree and, although she's older, she is still unmistakably his little sister.
For a second they just stand there, Karadec's hands shaking to the point that he has to put down his gift bag.
"You gonna stand there all night or are you gonna come in?" Alya asks, her accent somewhere between American and Australian, leaning more towards the latter, but her smile is so similar to their mother's when she was around that age. Actually, she looked very much like their mother, a fact that left him speechless for not the first time that night. Something in his chest cracks as he shuts the apartment door.
"Aly," he says, the nickname a memory that his lips had to figure out how to say again. She doesn't give him time to overthink anything as she wraps her arms around him, tight and familiar in a distant sort of way. She presses her forehead into his shoulder the way she used to because she's always been shorter than he is.
Karadec stiffens instinctively before melting into her, wrapping his arms tightly around her and resting his chin on the top of her head. He holds her like she'll vanish if he's too gentle.
"You smell like airport coffee," he murmurs.
She laughs, the sound muffled by his coat. "You smell like a cop that just came from a Christmas party."
He chuckles too, "there's probably a good reason for that."
Alya pulls back first, taking a good look at him. "Wow, you're old."
Karadec cracks a smile, rolling his eyes. "Yeah and you're short. What's changed?"
Everything had changed, everything.
"I missed you," she says gently.
His breath stutters. "I missed you, too."
They stay there for another minute, the apartment still quiet but no longer empty. Alya steps aside, taking a better look at the apartment. "Your place is very… you. Organized, minimal. Zero personality." She grins as Karadec frowns. "I brought you some presents." She points to his tree where a gift bag and a neatly wrapped box say under the tree. Next to them were a few other wrapped gifts that— that he didn't remember seeing earlier in the evening?
"I didn't get you anything," he says rather dumbly.
"Well obviously. I'm surprised you're not yelling at me for showing up unannounced. You usually plan things weeks in advance." She drops onto the couch, curling her legs under her.
Karadec exhales, sitting in the chair opposite her. "This was a good surprise."
The silence settles. Not awkward, honest. Careful.
"I didn't know how to come back," Alya finally says, wringing her hands together. "Every year it got harder and harder, like if I waited long enough I would just forget about it all together and not have to deal with it. That it would stop hurting."
Karadec nods. "It didn't."
She shakes her head. "No, it didn't. But it's gotten more bearable. I understand now that you were doing the best you could. You took care of me when you could've just left instead. You were the best big brother I could have ever asked for, I just didn't know it at the time. I'm sorry."
"You were hurting," Karadec acknowledges. "There's no need to apologize for that. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should've asked you what you needed instead of assuming I knew what was best for you. I am very… proud. I am very proud of everything you've accomplished in Sydney."
She nods. "I am sorry for moving away without saying goodbye." It's such a heavy sentence that hangs in the air for too long.
There. The elephant in the room had finally been called out. It was a weight both lifted and dropped on Karadec's shoulders. He hadn't left her, he knew that. He had never heard her acknowledge the fact that she knew.
It's such a heavy admittance that hangs in the air for too long.
"It made me angry," he admits. "I pretended for years like you didn't exist. I went to therapy. I told anyone who asked that I didn't have any family. And then… and then Morgan," he lets out a hushed laugh. "She pushed and I caved, telling her about us."
"Hm. Your girlfriend is good for you," she hums.
Karadec laughs for real at her statement. "Morgan's not my girlfriend, I work with her."
"Uh huh. Adam, she flew your estranged sister halfway around the world without telling you and then her kids brought you presents."
Ah. So that's where the extra gifts under the tree came from.
"She likes seeing people happy," he shrugs.
"Yeah, and I like studying and helping animals. I wouldn't have come here if she didn't tell me you missed me as much as I missed you."
He sinks down further into his chair, exhaustion that had nothing to do with lack of sleep overtaking him. "She complicates things."
"Good."
He looks at her. "Good?"
"Yes. You've always lived like you have to have all the answers, yes I get that some of that was my fault, but you need to actually live, Adam. She seems like the kind of person that can help you with that."
"You barely know her."
"I talked to her multiple times over the past three weeks, I know she cares for you." She stands up, patting his knee gently. "Listen, it's Christmas Eve. Time zones are a pain in the ass and I'm tired, you're tired. Let's go to bed and we can talk in the morning. I want to hear every detail about how you made detective." She ruffles his hair the way she used to whenever he was annoying her and it earned the same scowl now that it did before. She disappears down the hallway, leaving him alone.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and he takes it out to see a text from Morgan.
MORGAN: home safe, let me know how it goes <3
He stares at the screen longer than he should before shooting a quick text back.
KARADEC: I'm glad, thank you. It's good so far.
He stares at the presnts under the tree, walking closer to read the name tags on them. There were two actual wrapped gifts, one from Ava one from Elliot, his scrawl barely legible. On top of them is a tall gift bag (obviously some sort of alcohol) with a bright pink envelope sticking out of it. He would leave the others for tomorrow but he takes the bag, opening the card first. The front of it had an angry looking cat with a Santa hat and a message that read: If cat's could send Christmas cards, they wouldn't.
Karadec flips it open, reading the printed message on the left side first that said: good thing I'm not a cat!
His eyes flick over to where Morgan's neat handwriting fills the right side of the card.
Merry Christmas to my grumpy guy!!
I know you probably hate Christmas just as much as you hate Thanksgiving,
but I hope I've made it a little more bearable for you. Ava and Elliot insisted
on getting you gifts, though I'm not exactly sure how useful they'll be.
Hopefully by now you know what your big present is, I hope you love it as
much as I want you to. Listen, I'm writing this before Soto's party so if it
doesn't go well, this is to numb the pain; if the party does go well, this is for
the two of you to celebrate! Thanks for putting up with me, partner. See you
back at the station.
xo,
Morgan
He shuts the card, pulls the bottle of wine out of the bag, and just stands there with it, the tree lights glowing softly. He thinks of Alya, likely already cuddled up in his guest room, and of Morgan, wrapping presents on her table. For the first Christmas in years, his heart is as full as it was when he was a child.