#cavillmas

December was, without a doubt, Clark’s favorite month. It felt like the best of humanity appeared, bundled in their coats with smiles on their faces. Whether it was bell ringers collecting change for the local at-risk youth shelter or Mandy from accounting making everyone cookies with reindeer faces, it just felt like people wanted to help.

And that’s what Clark really loved about humanity. They really did want to help each other; he was, in many ways, proud to be able to help them whenever he could but sometimes he was just able to sit back and watch.

Today, just the third day of the month, Clark had been ready to spring into action right outside his apartment building. The quintessential elderly matron of 556 Amsterdam Street, a widow by the name of Mrs. Audrey, was struggling with a much too large package. She was a few steps ahead of him but before he could get the door, it swung open from the inside.

A wide grin cracked his face at the sight of Y/N, the woman who lived in the apartment above him.

He’d had a low-key crush on the beautiful woman since he’d moved into the building, almost a decade ago. She was a teacher at the middle school right around the corner and was prone to talking to her plants. Clark found the melodic words and giggles exceptionally soothing most days, allowing his hearing to tune into just that sound when he’d had a particularly rough day.

Today, just a few days into December, Y/N’s grin was also wide as she held the door and then caught sight of Clark. “Oh hey, stranger! Haven’t seen you for a few weeks.”

His heart soared at the realization that Y/N was keeping track of him. She’d always been polite but distant so it seemed . . . odd yet strangely nice that his neighbor noted his absence.

He knew every time anyone in the building was gone, how long they were gone for, and if he really focused he could pick up their heart beat anywhere in the city. “Yeah, I was home visiting my mom for a few days and then I got called out of town on a work assignment.”

Finally with some room to move, Clark swept forward and held out his arms to take the package from Mrs. Audrey. She clicked her tongue and then glanced back at Y/N. “It’s just a very large stuffed animal, young man. I can handle it just fine now that I’m inside.” Her tone brokered no argument and Clark held his hands out as she teetered away.

Y/N gave a snort behind him and he turned to find her still standing in the foyer. “Stubborn woman.”

He grinned. “The best ones always are.” That got her an answering grin and he smiled even wider as he heard her heart beat pick up. Y/N was always a little nervous around him and today was no exception. She was rocking back and forth on her feet, almost as though she were waiting for something. “Are you waiting for something?”

“Someone, actually.” It was then he realized he could smell chocolate on her.

One of the other amazing things about December was that Y/N tended to make hot chocolate for herself after getting home from school every day. It was her little way of warming up and winding down. More than once he’d glimpsed her sitting in her bay window, watching the snow come down. She’d always looked so cozy. Now, he could smell the chocolate and as he looked closer, could see that she was wearing some of it on her sweater.

“I was waiting for you, actually.” Her voice was as sweet as the smile she was giving him and Clark chuckled. He knew where this was going. “I had a little accident with my stove and I was wondering if you could work your magic again.”

He chuckled at her request but swept his arm towards the elevator to indicate he would happily follow her back to her apartment.

Clark’s magic, as far as Y/N was concerned, was an uncanny ability to relight the pilot light on her stove. Which seemed to go out for various reasons about once every six months. The last time it was because she accidently put it out while extinguishing the grease fire she’d started while making bacon.

The whole building had smelled for days.

Based on the mess she’d made of her sweater he suspected the hot chocolate had gotten a little too hot and had drown the pilot light.

The light itself was in a particularly hard-to-reach location owing to the stove’s age and the landlord’s refusal to upgrade to electric appliances. The first time she’d put it out, she’d called maintenance and the guy they’d sent had thoroughly creeped her out. When she’d told Clark all about the guy, Clark had been almost livid that he hadn’t been home. He’d have heard the concern in her voice and would have come to investigate.

“So, what was the story this time? Do I need to avoid any specific restaurants?” Her words snapped him out of his reverie as the doors to the elevator popped open. Her scent, chocolate and all, filled the space quickly and he tried not to breathe too deeply.

“No restaurants.” He paused, a frown flitting across his face as he thought of the time he’d just spent in Florida. “It was a trafficking ring, actually. The cops busted it a few days ago. You probably saw it on the news.”

Y/N’s face paled at the revelation. Clearly she had seen it. “Yeah. That was the one Superman helped take care of, right? Did you bust the story open?” And now she had stars in her eyes, connecting the lines that he’d been there and it had been taken care of. The truth was Clark had been in Florida for a story, but one about horse doping. He’d overheard some stuff whispered on one of the estates and had started looking deeper.

Superman had busted the story, and the ring. Clark was just the reason he’d been there.

He ducked his head, trying his best to look bashful. “It’s not like all that. I was just following the lead and got there not long after the authorities had gotten their big break.” Clark, as always, did his best to keep the word Superman out of his mouth. He’d figured, over many years, that if he just didn’t draw attention to the fact that he usually played both parts during disasters then people wouldn’t associate him with his alter ego.

“But still, you were there. I’m so glad the cops caught those guys. I couldn’t believe when I saw . . . how young some of those girls were. They’re the same age as my kids. I think I’d just-.” Her anger was cut short when the door opened up to her floor. She stepped forward and guided him to her door. He followed like a puppy on a lead. “Sometimes I feel like Superman has more self control and compassion than anyone else on this planet. How else could he see the shit he does and not just lose it.”

He was real glad she wasn’t watching his face at her admission. Most people called him a pushover for not taking out his anger rather than complimenting the consideration that his parents had spent several very difficult childhood years instilling in him. “Ah, here we are. I have to warn you though. I’m in the middle of making the kids their Christmas presents so there’s a lot of glitter right now.”

Y/N hadn’t been lying. When they stepped through her front door he was assaulted by the sparkle. His eyes picked it up everywhere: the cozy and worn couch she liked to watch Succession from, the aforementioned bay window, even under their very feet on the welcome mat. He gave her a grin when she shrugged. “I can’t see anything, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re too kind, Clark. Come on; let me show you this week’s disaster.” It was a short turn around a corner and he was presented with her kitchen. If there was one thing he could rely on, it was Y/N making a mess. Of anything. The glitter was just one of many ways she lived in perpetual clutter. “Now, before you laugh, I’d like to say that I honestly was trying to be careful, but when I went to pick up the pot the handle was a little hotter than I expected and the whole thing just jumped right out of my hand.”

Yeah. She’d dumped a saucepan full of hot chocolate all over the oven. And then had promptly come to find him to relight her stove. He’d never had the pleasure of visiting her classroom but he figured it was probably not the most well-organized. “Well, first thing, can you grab me a towel?” He had to pop the top and it’d make more of a mess if they didn’t mop up some of the liquid.

“Oh! Oh god, yes. Shit, I didn’t even clean up. Give me a second.” She popped around the other wall into her tiny bathroom and Clark chuckled as she muttered about being a forgetful idiot sometimes. He was admiring the soft fairy lights she’d strung up around her window when she reappeared with a towel. She’d also taken off the sweatshirt, revealing a comfortable, and form fitting, tank top.

Five years sharing the same building and he’d never really gotten a good look at her shape before. She tended to appear already dressed for work or in the t-shirt and sweats she favored around the house. But now, now he could see her soft curves, the swell of her breasts tempting. With a jolt, Clark realized he was staring and he swallowed to break his concentration. When he looked up, he noted Y/N had definitely caught him looking. And surprising both of them probably, he could hear the uptick in her heartbeat when she realized what was happening. Clark, in his Midwest polite sensibilities, grabbed the towel and turned away to cover his embarrassment. He coughed to break the silence as he practically threw the fabric on top of the stove and started scrubbing. “You know, you could get a microwave. Then you wouldn’t risk flooding your stove.” It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, that he gently teased Y/N about having a distinct lack of kitchen appliances.

“I’ve told you before I don’t like them. They sound weird; my ears are too sensitive.”

Clark bit back a laugh at the suggestion a microwave was too much for ears to handle. It was just one more sound that could get tuned out. The bulk of the mess was cleaned up while Y/N tutted around him, straightening the mess in the kitchen while he worked.

When he’d gotten the worst of it up and opened the lid to the stove and gave a laugh. There was another inch of liquid underneath. She peaked over his shoulder at the sound and let out a scoff. “Shit. Another towel?”

Her face was right next to his, so close that when he turned to give her a nod he could feel her breath on his skin. “Yeah. Please.” Y/N was motionless for a moment, watching his lips. With a jolt, her eyes jerked up and she took a step back.

He smiled at her retreating back. Her heart beat was still elevated.

Y/N liked him too.

That was enough to bring a wide grin to his face that he couldn’t quite tamp down when she returned. “What? What happened?” She was suspicious of the smile but he shook his head without answering her. Instead, he took the towel and finished cleaning up her mess.

At last, he could safely get his head in the stove and at the right angle to see where the pilot light would normally be lit. There was definitely a little puddle that he couldn’t quite reach with his hand. His heat vision though, would definitely do the trick. “Hey, can you grab me one more towel?” He waited until her feet crossed back into the bathroom before superheating his gaze and drying the little puddle. It was moments, seconds really, of the intense red light. He readjusted after everything was dry, reigniting the pilot light.

Just in time too, Y/N’s feet reentered the room and he straightened. “Just kidding!”

Her face brightened. “You got it relit? You’re amazing, Clark!”

No mention of a source of flame, like always. He’d once made some rambling explanation of there being a button to push, deep in the stove, which would relight it for him. She’d never asked him to point that button out and he’d obviously never offered to show her.

The delighted little grin on her face was entrancing. He gave her his own smile in return and then froze as she stalked closer. Although the entire apartment spelt of the spilled drink, he could pick out her perfume anywhere. Block away. And this close, it was heady as she stepped right in front of him.

“One of these days I’m going to have to cook you dinner to thank you for your help.”

He gave her a smile. “Considering how many mishaps I know you have in the kitchen perhaps you’d agree to just grace me with your company while I cook dinner.”

He was half expecting her to blush in embarrassment and back away. Instead she bit her lip and leaned forward onto her tip toes. It almost looked like she wanted to kiss him, a hand raising as well to cup his cheek.

Clark wasn’t sure whose heart was beating faster at that moment, the sound from both drowning out the disbelief coursing through his head.

Right when he was sure she’d close that final gap, her hand swiped through his hairline. The touch was over before he even registered it. She settled back on her heels. There was a smidge of white sugar on her fingertips.

“Mmmm, marshmallows. There must have been some on the underside still.” His jaw dropped when she licked the sticky confection off her skin.

Oh God, he thought. Y/N definitely liked him back and if that look was any indication it wasn’t just neighborly affection. She gave him a Cheshire grin and ran her tongue over her top lip. It took every ounce of his considerable restraint not to pull her close and make sure her lips were clean himself.

“Anytime you wanna do dinner, just pound on your ceiling and I’ll come running.” There was an unexpected promise in those words.

-earlier-

“Henry, you really didn’t have to do all this. It’s too much! I didn’t give you nearly enough.” You already knew what his response was going to be; the man's love languages were touch and gifts. He adored you, of course you were going to be spoiled.

“You gave me plenty! I love it all! I can’t wait to tear into this kit!” You chuckled when he shook the box like an excited little boy. “Oh, uh… There is one more thing. I can just take it back though.”

“What? No you can’t!” He laughed as you sat up on your knees on the floor beside Kal, who still had the bow atop his head that Henry had placed there after opening his new watch.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want it to be too much.”

“OH! Henry!” You looked around, “where is it?”

He nodded his head over to your new purse. Opening it you discovered a small box wrapped with paper covered in the lyrics to “Jingle Bells”. You made a cute little excited noise and ripped into it. Your face became serious once you discovered what was inside.

Months ago while Henry was away filming you’d talked about this product you’d discovered. A product that he could help you use no matter where he was. He could control it from an app on his phone all he would need you to do was put it in place.

“Hen.” He could hear the lustful tone in your voice.

“Go on. It’s charged, and I've already downloaded the app,” you jumped onto the couch beside him. Taking the toy out he directed you, “the magnet goes over your panties to keep in place. Would you like some help?”

You bit your lip, nodding before lying back. This was fairly self explanatory, but the thought of him placing a vibrator against your slick skin made you even wetter. Positioning himself over you, he slid the toy into your panties. Not without first plunging two thick fingers inside your eager heat.

You moan as he worked them slowly. He withdrew them as soon as your head fell back. “Now, now, little one, what fun would I have if you came too soon, hmm?”

Calming your breath, you pout at him. “Aw, put that lip back sweetheart, you’ll have your fun soon enough. That is… if you’re my good girl.”

You whimper as he puts the vibrator into place against your swollen, needy clit. Settling back on the sofa, he opens the app, Henry places your legs over his lap.

“Ready?” You nod; sighing as gentle pulses course over your sensitive bud all at the touch of his finger.

Henry’s smirk grows wider as his ministrations grow more deliberate. His finger quickens and slows based on your breathing. Before long you were writhing before him, his free hand kneading your breasts. Pulling your shirt up to suckle your hardened nipples.

He backed off every time he thought you were getting too close; changing the rhythm, the speed or even stopping all together. Your moans reached a crescendo once he finally allowed you to come.

“God,” you panted, “I think this is the best gift anyone has ever given me!” Henry laughed and patted your thigh.

“Come on. We should get up; we’ve gotta get ready for dinner. And I have to do something about this.” He looked to his erection laying over his left thigh.

“Oh, I can think of something you could do with that.” Soon your shorts were gone, and his cock was being pulled free of his red and black pajama pants. Your body didn't offer any resistance as he lined up, sliding into you to the hilt.

He thrust into you with fevered abandon. Quickly, you were both coming undone. Feeling his body stiffen you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in even closer. Feeling the ropes of his warm seed painting your walls, the pulses of his thickened manhood stretching you further made you cum once more.

Henry roared as you scratched your fingernails into his lower back. His teeth almost piercing your shoulder adding to your pleasure. Throwing your head back you scream his name.

Still inside you, you let him lie on top of you as long as you could while you traced patterns and love notes across his back. His head rested on your chest listening to the rhythm of your heart, his heavy eyes looking over the couch cushions. Truth be told he would have much preferred staying in your loving arms over going to the family dinner.

He was almost asleep when your soft, sweet voice roused him. “Hen? We’ve got to get ready, puffin.”

He grumbled playfully, but sat up, gently pulling away from you. You hated the loss of his warmth but you knew it wouldn’t be long before you could have him again.

Henry turned to help you stand, then lead you by hand to the bathroom. You watched as he started a shower, going out so you could use the restroom. He came back with the clothes you’d decided to wear, and your new toy.

Taking a longer than normal shower you held him to you for a while before the water started to cool. He bathed you, then himself. You were speechless, he would always take special care of you after, but this time was a bit different.

After the shower, while drying your hair you noticed him washing the toy. Turning off the dryer, you reached for your brush. Henry sat the vibrator by the sink.

“Be sure to put it back on before we go to dinner. I wanna see you try and hide your face while you come in front of everyone we know.”

Your eyes widen. “Henry! No!”

His devilish eyes taunting you as he walked back into the bedroom. “Take your time love, but don’t make me wait too long. You won’t like your punishment.”

You felt heat rising up your spine, making your cheeks and ears flush. You were going to really enjoy this evening.

***

You gripped his sleeve tighter. Your knuckles were pale around the thick material of his suit, which was the color of a stormy sea. Sweat beaded down your back. It was difficult to get a steady breath in.

“You know I won’t let anything happen to you,” your witcher assured you.

You smiled at him, knowing it was true. There was nothing—monster nor man—that he would let get to you. Not tonight, at least. Not when he’d sworn to protect you.

But his words drifted to the back of your mind every time you glanced over at Aedion and the other men that seemed permanently stitched to his sides. As the Captain of the King’s Guard, Aedion Whitefeather of Nazair had reason to be arrogant. But no one—not even The Shadow, an honorary title he had given himself—had reason to force their way on others. There were whispers amongst the women at court that he was a skilled lover, patient and attentive even—until you said no to him. Then a switch flipped in him, and he became cruel and rough and unforgiving.

You had been one of a countless line of women who had experienced that side to him. The only difference was that he had shared your body with the soldiers that were always around him. Five men had finished inside of you by the time it all ended.

That had been a year ago. You still hadn’t fully healed from that treacherous night. You didn’t think you ever would. The ball that the royal family held for the upper-class members of their court forced you to finally be in the same room as him. The news had made you sick the first time.

Geralt had come through your city a week later. The two of you had met up—secretly, of course—to steal a few days with each other, something you only got to do every few months. Jaskier had been with him. That wasn’t a surprise to you. The Witcher and his bard had been journeying together for two years now. Jaskier had become like a distant brother to you. The three of you were friendly with each other, forcing you to swallow down the romantic feelings you had for Geralt.

But when they had seen you two weeks ago, they had recognized something was wrong right away. You struggled to get it out. Not just the part about the ball, but also the reason you were completely dreading being in the same place as The Shadow. Geralt had smashed the nearest wall when he heard your story; his Witcher strength sent a rippling crack through the concrete and the three of you had to sprint to the next street before the pub owner realized who had ruined half of his shop. Jaskier had held you, pressing you tightly to his chest as he promised that they would both be at that ball. Promising that you wouldn’t be alone for a single second that night.

Jaskier had come as the evening’s entertainment, mesmerizing the crowd with his voice.

Geralt, on the other hand, had come as your date. More specifically, as your betrothed. Lying with a Witcher was taboo, but marrying one… You didn’t mind the damage it would cause to your reputation, though. Not only would it make The Shadow terrified to go within twenty feet of you, but it would free you to act on your feelings for Geralt without him thinking anything of it. He would simply assume you were a skilled actress.

The band began to crescendo into a new song and Jaskier’s voice filled the room as he sung an upbeat tune. All around you, couples strode closer to the dance floor, moving in movements as fluid as the sea.

“Let’s dance,” you said, tugging on Geralt’s arm.

He didn’t move an inch. He gave a low hmm of disapproval.

You turned away from the dancing crowd, finally looking up at him. His hair, the color of an angel’s wings, was neatly combed and fell just past his shoulders. You glanced at the thin scar on the left side of his neck. It was carefully covered by his hair, but you could see it from where you stood. His golden eyes were locked on someone behind you. You didn’t have to guess who he was looking at. He had been staring The Shadow down all night. You had been grateful at first, and then amused as you watched The Shadow grow more nervous as the night wore on. But now you found yourself selfishly annoyed. You wanted his attention on you. It sounded petty but you couldn’t help it. Tonight was the one night you could act on your feelings and he was playing the stubborn guard dog.

“Geralt.” Your voice was low, his name a sigh on your lips.

The sound of his name brought his attention to you. The coldness in those stunning eyes turned to adoration. Wow. He was a good at this acting thing, too, if he so easily slipped into the role of tender lover.

He called your name in the same tone that you had used. It was sweet, loving.

You couldn’t stop the way your face burned. He had never used that voice with you. It felt like a caress against your cheek, a gentle kiss pressed against your forehead. It left you breathless.

“Can we dance?” you repeated when you finally remembered how to speak. “Please?” you added when you saw the way his expression morphed into disdain.

“I don’t dance.” His voice was a deep rumble, uncompromising.

You licked your lips. That voice… that was what you imagined late at night when your hand was between your legs. Using that tone as he whispered dirty things to you, his warm breath sending shivers down your body as he thrusted deep inside of you—

You shook your head, forcing yourself to shove those thoughts to the back of your mind.

“Please? For me?” You batted your eyes, giving him that look that he could never say no to. “One song,” you promised.

He huffed as he debated it in his mind. “I’m going to step on your toes.”

You smiled triumphantly as you took his hand and dragged him towards the open floor. “It’s a good thing I’m forgiving, then.”

It was a stretch for your hand to reach his shoulder. His fingers wrapped around yours and you tried not to think too long on the fact that his hand was so much bigger than yours. He wrapped his right hand around the curve of your waist and pulled you in closer to him. Your breath caught in your throat. That simple touch made your heart pound faster, louder, and you prayed he couldn’t smell the arousal dripping between your legs.

You forced yourself to move along the floor, stepping along with the beat. Geralt looked painfully uncomfortable. You fought back laughter. He gave you a look that said he wasn’t very happy that you were so amused by his uncomfortability. The music grew louder, steadily creeping towards the apex of the song. You took another step, and then another one, and then Geralt proved himself right—he stepped on the tip of your toes, applying enough pressure that you winced.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he rushed out.

You simply shook your head and continued the dance. “I would be holding a grudge if you weren’t so scary,” you joked.

Amusement filled Geralt’s eyes. He was confident that you held no ounce of fear towards him, though it had taken several years to convince him of it. It took even longer for him to accept it. He wasn’t used to people accepting him, let alone feeling safe and protected in his presence. You and Jaskier were the only two humans in the world who were calmed by his presence, and therefore the only two people he let his guard down around.

Your heartbeat matched the tempo of the music, rising and rising and rising—

Geralt pushed you out of his arms, spinning you around under his arm. He pulled you back into his arms as the band released the final note. Neither of you moved as you stared at each other. The end of the song had put you under some sort of trance. Both of your chests heaved with quick breaths, your mouths parted with words unspoken. There was something in his eyes that you couldn’t recognize—

And then he kissed you. It was soft, gentle, barely a whisper of a touch. One brush of his mouth against yours. Just enough to make you desperate for another taste. He pulled back before you could get enough, and when you looked back at him, that same unrecognizable look was in his eyes.

“That was just for the crowd, right?” Your voice shook with every word. “That wasn’t real?”

This year I had tried to get a date. I downloaded various dating apps, did some swiping, and went on a few dates. Well, three to be precise, two to be exactly precise. Tonight, I saw date number three sitting at the bar we were supposed to meet, and the creepy vibe he gave me made me turn around instantly.

Walter would be proud of me, I thought. The detective and I had been friends for quite some time. We became friends when we had started the police academy at the same time. He managed to finish it, I was too stubborn and hard-headed. While I was one of the best of the class, alongside Walter, I quit. I couldn’t work by all those rules, if I wanted to do something to safe someone (even if it meant going into a dangerous situation all alone), I did it.

Yet, Walter and I stayed in touch. I mostly talked and he groaned or huffed, but it worked. I smiled as I thought of him, it had been obvious to everyone around me I didn’t think of the detective as a friend, but that was all we were. He had even been married when we became friends. But he had been divorced for quite some time now, he hadn’t even been dating.

I reached my home, and I was about to open the front door when an idea struck me. Quickly turning back around, I started walking into the snow again. I had no idea if it would work, or if he’d agree, but I just really didn’t want to be alone again at that party.

The walk was short, thankfully Walter lived close to me after the divorce and moved into an apartment in my neighbourhood. His apartment being poorly decorated though. I walked up the stairs to his floor, and banged on his front door. On the way there I stopped to get some take out, knowing if I wanted my plan to work, I needed some leverage.

The door swung open, and the detective filled the door post. His curls wild, dark circles under his eyes, a sweater, and sweatpants. Don’t look down, do not look down. I repeated the mantra in my head, I had made the mistake before and after that I had to avoid him for a week. I didn’t trust myself to not jump him so the image of his package (the name I had given it) had to be removed from my mind.

“I brought food!” I smiled and held up the paper brown bags.

“You know I can see that?” Walter said, and stepped out of the doorway to let me walk past him. My shoulder brushed against his chest, and I quickly walked over to the couch. I heard him walking to the kitchen, grabbing a set of plates. He came back just in time to watch me kick of my sneakers and get comfortable on the couch.

“That’s my spot.”

“No, it’s my spot you so kindly kept warm.” I grinned at him, and watched him shake his head and take place next to me. For someone who wasn’t friends with many people, and someone who wasn’t a very touchy person; he always sat pretty close to me. But I guessed that was because he felt comfortable around me. My best friend Lucy had joked about it, saying he was into me. I had always laughed it off, but right now it could work in my advantage. If I wanted this plan to work even.

“The least you can do is give me the food if you keep acting like this is your house,” Walter said, and the sparkle in his eyes told me he was glad I did that, making myself at home. I gave him the bags, and he carefully divided the foods between our plates. We immediately started eating, Walter wasn’t much of a talker, so we watched the soap opera that played on the channel the tv was on.

“How was your day?” he asked after we finished eating. I sighed, leaning back against the soft cushions, and stretching my legs out in front of me, resting them on Walter’s lap. His rough hand caressed my ankle, sending a shiver down my spine.

“It was fine. Work was boring. Made myself some healthy but boring dinner. Enjoyed the snow. Took a nice walk here. Nothing very interesting though. Yours?” I started to get a bit restless, why did I even think it was a great idea to come here with that stupid plan?

“Fine,” he just muttered, he shifted a bit and focussed his gaze on my ankles again that he was still caressing. If the bags under his eyes hadn’t told me, this reaction would’ve told me enough; he had had a hard day and he did not want to talk about it. And that was okay, every once in a while he did come to me to talk about it. He knew when his head was too full.

“So, why are you really here? I know you don’t like leaving your house after 8 for no reason, so spill it.” His eyes were back on mine, looking right through me. You could say what you want about him, but he was a detective in his heart and soul, and he knew me like the back of his hand. Well, almost. God, why did he have to wear that stupid sweater that makes him look so cuddly?

He scraped his throat, and it took me back to the moment. His eyebrows furrowed, an expecting look in his eyes. If I thought I could get out there without giving him an answer, I was so wrong.

“Oh, nothing. Just wanted to inform you we are going to a Christmas party this Friday, at Lucy’s, and you will pretend to be my boyfriend.” I decided it was best to be honest, this man had no time for bullshit, and he would know when I’d lie.

“Sorry, what?” he said confused, his fingers on my ankle stopping their movement. Oh, boy.

“You heard that right. Wear something pretty, okay? I’ll probably be wearing green, so just go with black,” I quickly answered and pulled my legs back. I grabbed my shoes, and tried to put them on but a hand stopped me.

“Hold up, you want me to pretend to be your man for the night? And what’s in it for me?” Walter asked.

“Yes, and nothing really. Free booze, fun night out with me; that should be enough. And I’ll cover take out for the next month!” I shook his hand of me and stood up from the couch. Walter looked at me, studied me, for a moment and I took my chance to walk to the front door. I had my coat already in hand, door open.

Walter showed up behind me while I was about to yell the time he should pick me up when he slammed the door shut again, trapping me between him and the no longer way out.

“You are not going anywhere. I need to know why, and I need to know details if we are going to do this. But you own me one, big time,” Walter grinned.

The week went by incredibly slow. Work was dreadful and boring, and Friday seemed ages away. But there were still miracles because finally it was Friday. Walter agreed to be my boyfriend for the night, if we set some ground rules.

Rule number one: pet names. He hated to be called pet names, but I put my foot down and demanded I got to call him something sweet, but not too sweet. So, we agreed I was allowed to call him babe. Simple, sweet, just a regular normal pet name. He wanted to call me princess. I politely declined. I suggested honey, sweetheart, or love; which he politely declined. Okay we both laughed out loud and yelled ‘no way’ out loud. We eventually settled on doll. A pet name that secretly made my heart jump, but in no way I would tell him that.

Rule number two: public display of affection. Walter being a man who would rarely smile of hug anyone besides his daughter, this would be a tricky one. Plus, I wasn’t big on PDA either; seeing those couples who are glued to each other the entire time made me nauseous. Yes, I want it too but that is not the point here. It surprised me when Walter took the initiative and said he would lay a hand on the small of my back, and hold my hand from time to time. Not the entire time, but still.

Rule number three: kissing. Yes, this is a form of PDA, but this deserved a separate rule. When I said we should discuss this, we stared awkwardly at each other before looking away even more awkward. If anything, I wouldn’t mind kissing him (who wouldn’t), but I did not want to kiss him for fake reasons. So, I suggested decided that kissing on the cheek would be appropriate, and if someone would give us a hard time a simple peck on the lips would be sufficient.

We talked the evening through very detailed, and Walter’s approach to this evening made me somehow feel relaxed but nervous at the same time. He thought everything through, and it was so sweet how caring he was to make sure I didn’t feel like shit for being single for once. I believe he even went to the hairdresser this week.

I thought the rules over, and the conversation we had. I hadn’t seen him since then, we texted, but I was nervous to see him in a couple of minutes. We agreed he would pick me up, so I could get a drink or two.

Glancing at my watch, time told me Walter would be here soon. I looked in the mirror, the dress I wore hugged my curves and the heels on my feet giving me even more height. Just a small heel though, just enough to make me the same height as Walter. I knew he wouldn’t mind it if I wore heels that made me taller than him, he has told me many times before. Plus, with his presence he made everyone feel a little smaller next to him.

I looked good, and I actually felt sexy for once. Normally I dressed in jeans and a sweater or something, so dressing up gave my self-esteem definitely a boost.

The doorbell rang, and I quickly ran to the front door to open it. I looked at the man in front of me, and I nearly fainted. Walter wore black trousers, just tight enough, and a black, also tight, turtleneck. God damn how can I stand beside this all night without jumping him. That would be a problem for later.

“Hey,” Walter said as he looked me up and down. “You look beautiful.” His voice sounded thick, and a little of guard.

“You look a little less shit than usual,” I grinned, decided I shouldn’t behave any differently than normal. And normal for us was insulting each other. “Nice to see you left those bags under your eyes at home for once.”

Walter sighed, and shook his head. “I can just go home, and let you go by yourself if that is what you want.”

“No! Come on, don’t act like a little baby, babe.” I emphasized the word babe, and the corner of Walter’s mouth twitched, like he was suppressing a smile.

“Alright, let’s go then doll.” Walter copied me, saying the pet name clearly. I laughed while grabbing my coat and locking the door behind me.

Walter opened the car door for me, and before he closed it he hesitated for a moment. But then he spoke. “Why didn’t you wear those other black heels? You know I really like those?” His eyes wandered over my long legs, a glance of mischief in his eyes.

“Because with you by my side, I will already attracted more attention than I’m used to. Don’t also need to be the tallest woman there,” I said and rolled my eyes.

“You’re so dramatic,” Walter said, and placed his hand on my thigh to gave a soft squeeze. Then he leant in, and pressed a tiny kiss on my cheek. Oh, fuck. This is gonna be a long night.

The party was exactly what you would expect from a Christmas party. Tacky music, over the top decorations (which were also quite tacky), snacks you rather not eat but the wine wasn’t so bad. Since Walter was driving, he wasn’t drinking. On the other hand, I was still sipping from my first glass, and we were already there for over an hour.

Lucy had jumped us right when we set foot in the house. I had told her I would bring someone, that something had recently happened and that I wanted to show her rather than tell her. The look on her face when she saw us together, Walter’s arm snuggly around my waist (an action that was actually not in the rules), was priceless.

“But tell us! How did you two finally get together?” Lucy asked, her boyfriend Andrew standing by her side. I wanted to open my mouth to speak, Walter and I talked about this and made up a story, but Walter was faster.

“We both knew it was always there, but none of us acted on it. Then a few weeks ago, we were watching a movie, and everything just fell into place. We just wanted to take it slow, but so far so good, right doll?” Walter turned to look at me, and I looked back with a very confused look. I had never heard this man speak so many words in one go. I had never heard this man say so many nice words at all.

“Uh, yeah. That’s sums it up quite well,” I quickly said, realizing I took way too long to answer. Walter cocked his eyebrow, only visible for me, checking if I was okay. I nodded almost invisible, but he noticed, and his arm slid of my waist to grab my hand. He gave it a reassuring squeeze, and although I was fighting it, the butterflies filled my stomach.

“I’ll get us a drink.” Walter kissed my temple, and walked away with Andrew to grab drinks.

“You have got to tell me everything! I so knew this was going to happen.” Lucy threw her arms around my neck, not even trying to hide her excitement.

“What do you mean you knew this was gonna happen?” It was obvious that I had a crush, but not that he liked be back!” I laughed. I was still not believing it Walter actually agreed with this plan, and that he made this act look quite believable as well.

“Oh, honey no, like it told you many times before: he really likes you. The way he looks at you?! I wish Andrew would look at me like that,” Lucy said. “But really, I’m so glad you two go together. I was about time.”

She squeezed my shoulder, gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked away to welcome a few new guests who came walking through the door. Walter came back with our drinks, and we decided to socialize for a moment.

Walter made sure he was close to me the entire time, or that he had his hand in mine or around my waist. It felt good, but it also made me sad a little because I didn’t want this to end. I should have never asked him to do this. This was a big mistake.

We finally found a quiet spot after we both hit out maximum amount of socializing for the day. The kitchen was empty, and I walked to the fridge to grab two sodas. Walter leant against the kitchen island, and I joined him. We both took a few sips in silence.

“This is going well uh?” Walter chuckled and nudged my side.

“Yeah, it is, I can’t believe everyone is believing it. Although I gotta say, we are being pretty convincing. We are being glued together the entire time, and the occasional kiss on the cheek is doing it job.” I saw Walter smile, he wanted to answer, but I shut him up by pressing a kiss to his bearded cheek. He looked at me, a soft smile on his lips and a look in his eyes I couldn’t quite place. He looked down at my lips and involuntarily I parted them slightly. Fucking kiss me.

“Hey, I was wondering-” Walter started, but was interrupted by the ringtone of his phone. “Hmm, yeah. Right now? C’mon, why can’t you call him? Okay fine, give me a moment.”

I had taken a step back, giving him a little privacy. When he hung up, I turned back around. “Bad news?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry doll but I gotta go. I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?” He looked annoyed, the smile on his lips gone and the tension was back in his shoulders.

“Of course, I understand.” I smiled at him, hoping he’d understand it was fine. I knew he had a job that wasn’t 9 to 5. “And if you don’t make it back in time, that’s alright too. Now go and make the world a little safer.”

“One hour, I’ll be back in an hour. I promise.” Walter engulfed me in his arms, and pressed a kiss to my temple once more. His cologne and scent infiltrated my nostrils. He smelled good, way too good, and I mentally made a note to steal one of his sweaters when I visited his home next time.

Two hours later Walter still hadn’t come back. The party was fine, but I had way less fun without Walter. We had both been making fun of people before he left, and now I had no one to do that with. Plus, I missed his warmth. His hand in mine. Or just him being around me in general. I looked around, at all those couples, and I realized I didn’t just had a crush on him. I was in love with him. And after this little glimpse of what it could be, I couldn’t go back.

The party guests were slowly leaving, and I checked my phone one more time just to be sure Walter hadn’t called or texted. He hadn’t, so I texted him I was already on my way home and that I’d see him later. It was fine. It was better this way.

I said goodbye to Lucy, and grabbed my coat on the way out. In the last few days, it had snowed some more, a thick pack laying underneath my feet as I walked home. A cold breeze hung in the air, and I pulled my coat a little closer around me. I shouldn’t have worn these heels. Why did I wear heels when there is snow outside?!

While I was walking, I mentally scolded myself. I had no idea how I could go back to just being friends with Walter. I wanted him. I wanted to wake up next to him, to fall asleep next to him. Okay, on top of him. And I wanted to kiss him. So badly. He already knew me through and through, he was the only person I could really be myself around.

The walk home wasn’t extremely long, just a few more blocks to go. I crossed a corner, and when I did, something appeared at the horizon. Someone actually. He was big, and tall. Curly hair. A bit of a grumpy attitude. Hands stuffed in his pockets. What the fuck is he doing here?

Seconds later we stood in front of each other. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Not even an ‘hello, how nice to see you Walter’ this time?” Walter mocked with a grin on his face.

“Oh, shut up.” I slapped him across the chest, a little taken back by the firmness of it. God, I wanna snuggle up to all of this. No, stop it. Stop this.

“Saw your text on the way back, figured you’d be on your way home. Walking, since you would be too stubborn to ask for help, for a ride home. So, I thought I’d park my car at yours and would meet you halfway.” We started walking again, and because of the snow and the late hour, it was just us.

“That is actually pretty sweet of you. Never knew I’d see the day you would do something nice for someone else,” I teased him. We both knew he did nice things for other people, well me and his daughter. Nothing grand, but the little things, the things that actually mattered.

We chatted on the way, just casual stuff. I’m not sure if it was the cold, or the fact I wanted to be closer to him, but once we reached my home there was no space between us anymore. Our hands brushing against each other from time to time and I kept hoping he would hold it. Yet he didn’t.

“I’m sorry I had to leave by the way. I knew you wanted to have someone by your side tonight, and I failed at that,” Walter spoke as I was about to open the front door.

“No, no! You don’t have to be sorry. You have a job, and you’re good at it. I always knew this could happen. So, no apologizing, okay?” I almost turned the key, but realized I was the one that needed to apologize. “I should be the one to say sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this and pretended to be my boyfriend.”

Walter chuckled, and grabbed one of my hands. “I really didn’t mind doll.”

What was that supposed to mean? “Yeah, whatever.” I smiled a little awkwardly. His calloused hand softly caressing mine sending shivers down my spine. Quickly I retracted my hand, and opened the door. I heard Walter sighing behind me as we both walked in.

“You’re telling me you haven’t figured it out by now?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked surprised. I kicked my heels off, and threw my coat on a chair while I walked to the kitchen with Walter close behind me.

“Pretending is not that hard when there isn’t much to pretend.”

I stopped in my tracks and slowly turned around to face him. “W- What?”

Walter took a step forward, caging me between him and the kitchen, hands resting on the countertop. “Question, did you mind having me as your boyfriend for tonight?”

I fell silent, my mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. While I wanted to believe what was happening, my brain had a hard time processing it.

“It’s a simple question doll, did you mind or not?” Walter brought his face a little closer to mine, his gaze falling to my lips.

“I didn’t mind, at all,” I whispered.

“Good, because I don’t think I can go back to just being friends. Not while I have had a taste.”

My hands rested on his chest, and wandered their way up to his neck. His gaze was intense, dark, and dead serious. Walter’s hands snuck around my waist, and one of his hands immediately went a little more south.

We both couldn’t control ourselves any longer, and our lips finally crashed into each other. Years of wanting, needing, yearning; all coming out at once. Hands were everywhere, tongues, teeth, little bites. It was all there. I knew Walter was passionate about things he cared, and then it fell together. The passion he showed there, was all the reassurance I needed.

We parted, just a little, to breath because we were both totally out of breath. A soft chuckle escaped my lips, and Walter pressed a kiss to my forehead before wrapping his arms around me. We stood there for a little while, enjoying the moment.

“So, how about I make us some hot chocolate and then we put on a movie we won’t watch because we will be making out, girlfriend?” Walter said after a moment.

“That sounds like a good plan, boyfriend,” I said and firmly pressed a kiss to his lips.

“We'll be landing in one minute.” The pilot said over the headsets you were wearing.

“All right.” You replied, picking up the thick gloves beside you and slipped them on.

The pilot angled the plane downward, lining the nose up with the runway, while communicating with the control tower on the ground, then carefully lowered them down onto the heated tarmac with a skidding bump and jolt. Once the plane was fully on the runway and the pilot taxed it into the hanger, you opened your door and stepped out, feeling the freezing temperature instantly hit you inside the huge structure.

“Dr. Hughes!” A voice echoed, making you turn around as the pilot pulled out your bag.

“Dr. Tate Elliot, I presume.” You greeted the elderly man, holding out your gloved hand to him.

“The same.” He nodded, taking a hold of your hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you and welcome the North Pole.” He smiled, kindly.

“Likewise.” You smiled back at him, turning back to take your bag from the pilot.

“How was your flight in?” Dr. Elliot asked, walking with you to the main office of the airport.

“It was good, long and a bit nippy, but good.” You chuckled, sighing as you felt the heat of the living quarters touch your chilled cheeks.

“Well, we'll settle here for the night, then head over to the British Arctic Science Survey center tomorrow morning. That way you get some rest and food in your belly. It's an hour's drive to the center from where we are.” He explained to you, showing you to a bunk you could sleep in for the night.

“I appreciate it.” You said, sliding your bag underneath the bunk, then turning on your boot heels to follow him out of the sleeping quarters, a delicious smell hitting your nose and making your mouth water. “Oh, what is that?!” You exclaimed, licking your lips as your empty belly rumbled.

“Ah!” Dr. Elliot grinned, proudly. “That is Felix Norberg!” He announced, sweeping into the kitchen, where a tall, blond male was standing at the stove, stirring a large steaming pot. “He's a Geophysicist, but also an absolutely amazing cook! He's got his famous Swedish Meatballs cooking as a welcome to you.”

“Oh, that's very kind of you and I look forward to trying them.” You grinned at Felix, touched. “They smell delicious all ready.”

“Tack.” Felix smiled back at you, nodding his head in appreciation.

Dr. Elliot showed you the rest of the place, before you returned to your bunk, sitting down on it and pulling off your gloves, then took your duffel from underneath. Unzipping the main compartment and rooting around, you took some clothing that was more appropriate for being inside the warmth of the shelter, went into the small bathroom to change, then pulled out a worn and creased paperback copy of 'Written in My Own Heart's Blood'. Moving back on the bunk to lean against the wall, you drew your knees up to your chest, and flipped the book open to your last page, beginning to read where you left off.

It was an hour later, when Tate came into the sleeping quarters.

“Dinner's ready.” He informed you, smiling softly.

“Excellent, I'm starving.” You answered, setting your book aside and slipping off the bunk, to join him, Felix and the pilot at the dinner table. “Oh gosh, you've out done yourself, Felix.” You moaned after swallowing a mouthful of creamy noodles and a hearty meatball. “This has to be the best thing I've eaten in a super long time.” You praised him, loading your fork up with more of it.

“Tack, I appreciate it.” Felix replied in a mild accent, smiling modestly.

“All right, Dr. Hughes, we'll leave at first light.” Dr. Elliot said, wiping his plate clean with his last bite of a bread roll. “Which is about 0500 hours.” He told you, before stuffing the roll into his mouth.

You blinked at him for a moment, mouth slightly agape as your mind tried to grasp what he told you, before it clicked. “Oh, you mean five am.” You nodded, understanding his use of military time.

“Yes, ma'am.” He smiled, nodding at you. “I was a Marine for fifteen years, before I became a Biologist, some things never die, especially when they've been drilled into you the way the military does it.” He laughed, thoroughly amused.

“Well, I'll be up and waiting for you, sir.” You replied, chuckling. “Good night, gentlemen.” You bid them with a polite nod, then excused yourself back to your bunk for the night.

You looked at the digital thermometer on the wall beside you, as you pulled on your beanie, and shivered involuntarily as you saw it was negative thirty-three degrees celsius outside. “That is ungodly cold.” You mumbled to yourself, pulling on your gloves.

“Are you ready?” Dr. Elliot asked, appearing in the doorway of the living quarters.

“As ready as I can be for how cold it is outside.” You quipped, smiling at him.

Dr. Elliot chuckled at you. “You'll get used to it in no time.” He assured you with a mischievous smile.

“I'm sure I will.” You laughed, shaking your head at him, then grabbed your bag and followed him out to the hanger, where he had an enclosed, all-terrain vehicle for the two of you waiting, to take you to the Survey center an hour away.

You tossed your bag into the cab and slid into your seat, as Dr. Elliot started the vehicle up, a smoky plume coming out of its vibrating exhaust pipe. He turned the heat on low, getting the cab warm for you both, while Felix pushed open the big main door for him to drive out of. Waving his thanks to Felix, Dr. Elliot turned towards a vast snowy track, where a very stiff wind was kicking up the snow on the ground, making it look like a snow tornado.

You found it oddly beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“So, what made you want to become a Glaciologist?” Dr. Elliot asked, making polite conversation for the long journey.

“My parents and I went on a family vacation to Alaska one year, when I was a kid.” You replied, staring out over the landscape. “We went out on this boat that took you to see the glaciers around the area, and I just remember seeing those glaciers for the first time.” A smile came over your face of fond nostalgia of the majestic and eerie blue mountains of ice, in their rugged beauty.

“There's almost nothing like them, they're so...grandiose.” You said, looking over at him as he laughed, nodding his head at you.

“I totally understand what you mean, I had the same revelation that got me into Biology.” Dr. Elliot grinned, fondly.

“It was just an epiphany.” You agreed with him. “Even with how cold it was. But, it wasn't until part of the glacier we were looking at broke away and crashed into the water, then our tour guide quoted a fact that the glaciers are melting away, that I started thinking about wanting to learn more about them.” You explained to him, saddened by the fact. “Just a terrible thing to lose such spectacular marvels, not only to appreciate as an aesthetic, but as functioning pieces of Earth's ecosystem, we need them in regulating stream temperatures, maintaining the channel runoff during late summer and drought periods, while our other sources are exhausted.”

“A Glaciologist and an environmentalist.” Dr. Elliot laughed, smirking over at you.

“It's hard to be a Glaciologist and not be an environmentalist to some degree.” You laughed back at him. “If they melt, we're rather out of job and our degrees just turn into paper towels.”

Dr. Elliot hooted with laughter, pounding his gloved palm on the steering wheel and rocked in his seat, his face underneath his salt and pepper beard turned bright red with splotches of purple. His laughs turned into choking coughs, and he began thumping himself on the chest, sweat soaking into the fabric of his cinder colored, gauge beanie and dripping down his face. You looked over at him, eyes wide with alarmed concern, as he started to wheeze, his breathing became short and labored, and his marble gray eyes were bloodshot, but glassy and unfocused.

“Dr. Elliot?” You rasped, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Tate!” You urgently said his name, seeing him open his mouth, like a fish out of water, his arms falling to his sides, as if they were filled with a ton of bricks. “Shit!” You yelped as the steer wheel and the snow vehicle lurched sharply to the left, jerking you into Dr. Elliot, who slumped against his door.

You lunged forward, grabbing a hold of the steering wheel with one hand, while attempting to pull Dr. Elliot upright again with the other; but you struggled to do both at the same time. “Oh, come on.” You ranted, letting Dr. Elliot slump back against his door, while trying to steer the vehicle straight, turning the wheel wildly, only to veer the machine too sharply to one side and into the path of a large snowdrift.

The vehicle hit the snowdrift head on, at full speed, and launched you and Dr. Elliot forward into the polycarbonate windshield, smacking the side of your face against the window, with a grunt, before you went limp and lost consciousness for a short time. When you did come to again, you were woozy and blood was trickling down the side of your face, from a gash on your eyebrow. But you ignored all of that, and focused on Dr. Elliot, who laid limp in much the same way you did against the windshield. Groaning, your body was stiff and twisted in an uncomfortable position, that you unfolded yourself from, scooting over to Dr. Elliot and rested your hands on him. You could hear a low wheeze coming from him, which relieved you beyond belief, it meant he was still alive.

For the time being. You thought.

“Tate, can you hear me?” You asked him, as you tugged off your glove, then fished around inside the collar of his arctic jacket for his heartbeat. “Dr. Elliot, if you can hear me, make some type of sound. A grunt or anything.” You tried coaxing him, finally managing to find his carotid pulse and found it was irregular and weak, only adding to your concern. “Dr. Elliot, I believe you've had a heart attack.” You told him, removing your hand and fixing his collar, before slipping your glove back on.

You tried to help Dr. Elliot sit up, hoping to get him into a more comfortable position, but he groaned loudly and painfully, so you laid him back where he was, resting on the steering wheel, preventing you from managing the machine out of the snowdrift. You looked around the cabin and spotted the receiver to the radio mounted on the dash and reached for it. You turned the radio on and made sure it was on a channel, before holding down the call button on the receiver.

“Hello! Hello? Is anyone there!? Can you hear me! Over?” You spoke frantically into it, then let off the button, only to get a rush of static back. Huffing, you tried the next channel over. “Is anyone there!? Please, we need help! We've crashed somewhere between the Arctic Airport and the British Survey Center, and Dr. Elliot needs medical attention!” You pleaded, but again, received no answer.

You tried every other channel, repeating the same message over all of them

But, you never received an answer, only silence or static.

“What am I going to do?” You sighed, rubbing your face and slumping back in your seat.

There was nothing around you for several kilometers, you both were at least thirty kilometers from the airport, and that was driving in the snow machine with the heat on. You had no idea how long it would take you to walk back to the airport on foot and if it was a smart idea to do it in negative thirty-degree weather, especially leaving Dr. Elliot alone, and the possibility of you getting lost on the way back. You also didn't know where or how far the Survey center was from your current location and Dr. Elliot clearly wasn't capable of verbal communication.

“Great, not how I envisioned my first expedition.” You frowned, looking out the window, at a loss for what you should do.

You reached underneath Dr. Elliot and tried turning the key of the machine, it whined and vibrated the cabin, before cutting off and going dead. Your eyes fell shut and you dropped your chin to your chest, deflated, there was no chance of getting the machine going again, even if you could get Dr. Elliot off the steering wheel and maneuver it out of the snowdrift it was stuck in. You sat there, mulling over your options again.

Would the people at the Survey center come looking for you both, when you didn't arrive? Or would you be stuck out here until you froze to death and Dr. Elliot died of not getting care for his medical emergency.

“All right, I'm going to try and walk back to the airport.” You told Dr. Elliot, resolutely, pulling your bag from the back of the cab and unzipping it.

Dr. Elliot made a sound that was very disapproving of your choice, blinking at you frantically.

“We have no other choice. It's either sit here, until it gets dark and colder, while we wait for a hopeful rescue party, or I try to get back to the airport and bring help to you.” You told him, pulling out several of the thermal shirts and sweaters you had brought with you. “And I'm trying to be positive and upbeat, but hey!” You chuckled, laying several of the garments over Dr. Elliot to make sure he stayed warm, then pulled off your jacket and put on two extra layers, then put your jacket back on over them.

You quickly got out of the cab, not wanting the heat trapped inside with Dr. Elliot to leak out and secured the door. Shivering, you hugged your arms around yourself and noticed the radio antenna on top of the snow machine was severely bent at an awkward angle, causing you to believe it was the cause of the radio not working, and felt the teeny bit of positivity you tried to show Dr. Elliot drop out of you. Looking away from the broken antenna and to the landscape, there was nothing, but a snowy waste around you, just snowdrifts of all sizes and a harsh wind, blending everything together.

“How in the world did he know where he was going?” You asked yourself, watching the snowy wind start to cover the crash tracks of the snow machine.

Sighing, you took a couple of steps away from the vehicle, minding yourself that you didn't lose sight of it, as you prayed you were going the right direction towards the airport and you reached it, before you got too cold or it became too dark for you to see, as you started walking back.

You blew into your gloved hands and glanced around; you had lost sight of the snow machine a short while ago and it filled you with anxiety, but you shoved it down and kept walking, you needed to get back to the airport and get Dr. Elliot help, his life depended on you getting there. So, you kept walking, soldiering on, determined to accomplish your goal, you didn't care how cold you were. But, the task started to wear on you, it only grew colder and even though you put on more layers, you were starting to feel the chill through every single one of them and the wind was really starting to blow around you, stinging your face with kicked up flakes of snow, and causing an almost white out.

“I have to keep going.” You chanted to yourself, tugging your thick scarf tighter around your neck and face, even with it over your mouth, a white cloud of your breath could be seen.

You stumbled over a thick mound of snow, falling to your hands and knees, and tried to scramble back up to your feet, but you were stiff with cold, so you knelt there, panting and exhausted, regretting your choice to try and walk back to the airport, berating your stupidity, when you heard a high pitched noise and the crunch of snow. You lifted your heavy head, snowflakes sticking to your lashes and blurring your vision as you saw a large black snow machine roll to a stop a few meters in front of you. The door opened and an equally blurry figure stepped out and crunched through the snow towards you, in an urgent manner.

“Hey!” Their voice reached you in the wind.

You let out a relieved grunt, knowing you were saved, before you gave up and face planted into the snow, as an arm wrapped around your waist.

The first thing that greeted you as you began swimming to the surface of the darkness that consumed you, was the steady sound of crackling and popping, then a toasty warmth that weighed you down into something soft and cozy.

You groaned and shifted underneath the weight, as you opened your eyes and only saw a mound of blankets that rustled as you shivered beneath them, teeth chattering. Whimpering, you tried sitting up, struggling to push the heavy, ornate patterned comforters off of yourself, but only caused yourself to become dizzy.

“Careful.” A soft voice called out from behind you, followed by a metallic clatter. “You're still weak.” They said, coming into your view and helping you lay back again.

“Who are you?” You panted, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to stop the room from spinning.

“I'm Penelope.” She replied, with a soft smile, tucking the blankets around you and fluffing the pillow your head was resting on. “You just relax. You're still very sick, you're lucky your hypothermia isn't as severe as it could be, but it's still very bad. Had we not gotten to you when we did, you probably would have died.” She told you, crossing over to the fire place that was crackling with a roaring fire that was going in it, and tossed a few more logs into it, making it hiss as the sap still stuck to their bark sizzled to life.

“Thank you for saving me.” You mumbled, gulping thickly.

“Oh, I wasn't the one that found you.” Penelope chuckled at you, shaking her head and moving to pick up the laden silver food tray from a hope chest at the foot of the bed you laid in. “My boss was the one that found you.” She explained to you, resting the tray on your nightstand. “He heard your cries for help over the radio and drove out to help you. It was on the way there that he found you laying in the snow.”

Your eyes shot open suddenly, recalling yourself and jerked upright, startling Penelope. “Dr. Elliot!”

Penelope rested her hands on your collarbone. “He's all right. He found him as well, and brought him back with you, to our base.”

“He needs medical help, he's had a--”

“We know.” She smiled at you, calmly nodding her head. “Our physician has already tended to him. He's had a heart attack, brought on by a clot going into his heart. He'll be laid up for a while, but he'll recover. I promise.” She comforted you, piling a couple of pillows behind your back and coaxed you to rest your back against them. “I brought you something nice and hot to eat and drink, you need all the strength you can get.” She said, picking up a steaming bowl of some kind of liquid.

“It's vegetable broth.” Penelope explained to the expression on your face as you took the warm bowl from her. “I didn't want to overload your stomach with too many solids, just in case you got sick.” She said, handing you a spoon. “I also made you my famous cup of hot cocoa!” She beamed proudly, pointing to the rustic, potbelly mug.

“Famous hot cocoa?” You echoed her words, lifting an eyebrow at her, as you brought a spoonful of the vegetable broth to your mouth.

“Yeah!” Penelope nodded.

You chuckled, expecting her head to pop off.

“All the cocoa and hot chocolate mixes that are out there, are either too watery, overly sweet or just taste fake.” She said, frowning and looking disgusted. “So, I took it upon myself to make a better cup of cocoa. It took some long hours in the kitchen, but I finally managed it.”

“And I'm sure your recipe is top secret.” You joked with her, smirking.

“Oh, for sure!” She laughed back at you, then looked around the room with narrowed eyes. “So, this is how you do it,” She whispered to you, leaning close. “You get the milk to twenty-seven degrees Celsius, with a splash of warmed half and half, to make it extra rich and creamy, then I pour it over Ghirardelli unsweetened cocoa and gently mix them together.”

You looked over at the mug, she made it sound so mouth watering, and balanced your broth in one hand to reach out for the cup with the other, giving it a sniff and smelled the sweet and warm, chocolate-y scent, that added to your mouth watering. You took a sip of it and found it was the perfect temperature, not too hot and not too cold, it was smooth, and the chocolate was rich and decadent.

“That is an incredible cup of hot cocoa.” You told her, taking another sip.

“Oh my god, thank you!”

“Penelope, I hope you're not exhausting our guest.” A deep voice said from the door.

“Oh, of course not, sir.” Penelope replied, leaping up to her feet and turning toward the door.

You set your bowl and mug down on the nightstand and looked over at the man standing in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest as he spoke quietly to Penelope, who nodded her head, glanced at you, then stepped around him and went out of the room.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, walking to the end of the bed.

“Exhausted and a little dizzy.” You replied, biting your lip. “Still got the shakes. But, I'll live.” You told him, picking up your hot cocoa again. “I hear I have you to thank for saving me and Dr. Elliot.”

“You do.” He nodded, looking at you critically. “What the hell were you doing, walking out in the snow like that?” He asked, his eye twitching.

“I had to get help, is what I was thinking.” You replied, sharply.

“You should have waited for help.”

“If I had, Dr. Elliot would have died.” You replied, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Well, both of you almost died.” He countered, lifting a brow at you.

You stared at him, biting your tongue before some very rude comments came out of your mouth. “Well, do I at least get to know my rescuer's name?” You asked, your eyes scanning him.

He was tall, shoulders and chest were broad, his arms, still folded at his chest, bulged underneath the snug, knitted cable jumper he wore with a pair of lightweight, thermal trousers, you couldn't see his feet, from where you were sitting and below the foot board of the bed and the hope chest, but you'd bet he was either wearing thick thermal socks by themselves or with shoes. He had a wild head of dark chocolate curls and a thick, groomed beard, and the skin you could see from his pulled up jumper sleeves and his face was pale, telling you he had probably spent a good deal up here in the North Pole.

“Henry.” He huffed, narrowing his cerulean eyes at you. “And, who did I have the honor of rescuing?” He asked, lifting his brows at you.

“Dr. Hughes.” You replied, giving him your name.

“A doctor and you couldn't help Dr. Elliot?” He asked, tilting his head at you.

You chuckled at him. “I'm not that kind of doctor. I have a PHD in Glaciology.” You informed him, the muscles of your jaw tightening.

“Is that what you're doing out here? Studying glaciers?” Henry questioned you, his face and his stance never shifting, even a fraction.

“Obviously.” You huffed at him. “I've never seen a glacier in Cancún, have you?” You asked him, lifting a smug brow.

“I've never been to Cancún, so I can't say I have.” He replied, his voice toneless.

A smile broke out across your face, despite you not wanting it to. “Funny.” You laughed, shaking your head at him. “Where are we exactly?” You asked him, taking another gulp of your cooling hot cocoa.

Henry stared at you for a long moment. “You're at a small village, several kilometers from where I found you and Dr. Elliot.” He finally replied, glancing at the fireplace.

“Well, then.” You replied, sighing. “I would like you to contact someone at the British Arctic Survey Center, to come and get us.” You told him, very matter of factually.

“No.” Henry answered, shaking his head at you.

“Excuse you.” You barked, jerking your head with surprise.

“It's not possible.” He said, softly. “You've been out for two days, Dr. Hughes. Yesterday afternoon a blizzard blew in and hasn't let up, in fact, it's only gotten worse. No one in their right mind will be going out in it and radios aren't working, because the storm's too heavy.” He explained to you, turning on his heels and moving to the window, pulling open the heavy curtains, revealing a total white out on the other side of the pane of glass.

“When the storm passes and you are capable, I'll have you and Dr. Elliot taken to the British Arctic Survey Center.” He told you, resolutely. “I will not have any of them come into this village.”

“And why not?”

“Because, they make the locals nervous, with their machines and devices.”

“Yet, you came to our aid in one of those machines and have a radio.” You pointed to him.

Henry yanked the drapes closed, feeling the chill seep through the glass. “We only have the one snow machine, it took me more than a year to convince them to get it, and the radio they understand the need for.” He said, turning back to you. “You can't avoid contact with the outside world all the time.” He stated, plainly, leveling his eyes at you.

“But, when it can be avoided, then that's the way we like it. So, again, when you both are capable and the weather is good, I'll have you taken to your destination. Rest assured, Dr. Hughes.” He said, softly. “Until then, I hope you enjoy our hospitality.” He added, turning towards the door and going out.

“Fantastic.” You sighed, dropping back against your pillows.

You were starting to go stir-crazy, with only Penelope as your company, other than the once Henry had checked in on you. You huffed, feeling your bladder issue an annoyance and tossed back the heavy blankets. You were still weak from being so ill, so you held onto the bed as you made your way over to the bathroom attached to the room they were kindly letting you stay in, while you convalesce. You let go of the bed and wobbled on your legs, like a newborn calf, before shuffling over to the bathroom door and grabbing the vanity counter.

You leaned back against the vanity and shimmied out of the bottoms of the pajamas Penelope had helped you into on your arrival to...whatever this village was called. You hissed as your bare bum touched the cold toilet seat.

“Like I wasn't cold enough.” You quipped, with a shutter of your shoulders.

“Do you need more wood?” A voice asked back.

“Jesus!” You shrieked, folding your arms and leaning forward. “I'm in here!”

“My apologies.” Henry replied, taking a long step backwards. “I saw nothing.” He said, his cheeks colored.

“Can't you knock!” You huffed, getting up and pulling your underwear and pajama bottoms back up.

“I did knock.” Henry answered, lifting his head as you came out of the bathroom, giving him a dark look.

“It must have been quieter than the dead.” You retorted, moving back to the bed.

Henry's eyes scanned you, before he stepped forward and caught your arm as you stumbled on the edge of the thick rug. “Let me help you.” He said softly, then supported you back to bed. “I see your feeling a little bit better.” He commented, seeing you had some color back in your face and your eyes seemed to be a bit brighter than they had, when he saw you last.

“I am.” You replied, sighing heavily.

“Well, I was thinking, if you were feeling up to it, I could...” Henry pressed his lips together and looked around the room, then cleared his throat. “I could take you on a wee walk.”

“In a blizzard?”

Henry chuckled, grinning at you. “Only one of us is crazy enough to do that.” He said, his blue eyes sparkling. “But no, this house is much bigger than it seems. I thought it might help, give you a change in scenery and a little fresh air.” He explained to you, lifting his brows.

“If you think you're up for it.”

You bit the corner of your lip. “I might be able to.” You replied, looking up at him.

“Good.” Henry nodded, then reached down and picked something up from the hope chest you hadn't noticed on the way back from the bathroom. “Here, the house is warm, but I don't want you to get cold. Don't need you getting any sicker.” He said, unfolding a thick, gray and white fleece dressing robe, with reindeer and snowflakes on it.

“That's a tad cliché.” You said, looking at the robe.

“What is?” Henry frowned, holding it open for you.

“Reindeer and snowflakes.” You smiled at him, a glint in your eye.

“And?” Henry replied, your joke going over his curly head.

“Never mind.” You giggled, slipping your arm into the first sleeve.

“Hmm.” He nodded his head, brow pinched as he helped you into the robe, carefully tying it closed around your waist with the sash. “Right, here.” He picked up a pair of slippers from the hope chest and dropped them in front of you.

“These fit perfectly. How did you know my size?” You frowned up at him.

“The boots you were wearing when I brought you here.” Henry replied, shaking his head at you. “Your size is on the inside of them.” He pointed out.

“Right.” You cleared your throat.

Henry offered you his hand and helped you to the door, pulling it open, revealing a long hallway with a runner identical to the rug inside your room. There were two doors on the right and three doors on the left, ending with a staircase, both going down and up.

“Let's see how you do going down the hall.” Henry said, supporting you as the pair of you started. “I don't want you to exhaust yourself.” He whispered, letting you lean against him as you needed. “Do you think you can go down the stairs?” He asked, lifting a brow at you.

“Don't say yes, if you can't.”

You smiled at him. “I think I can manage it.” You answered, with a stiff nod.

“All right.” He replied, but didn't look convinced, he didn't stop you either.

Henry took the first step down, then helped you take the one after him and repeated the process with you to the first landing, then down the next set of stairs to an entryway. The house was quaint and homey, a fire going in the large fireplace in the sectioned off living room, a long hallway led down to what looked like the kitchen and a few other rooms you guessed at.

“This is a nice place.” You said, looking up at Henry.

“What were you expecting? A lavvo.” Henry replied, his brows were knitted together, but an amused smile tugged on one corner of his mouth.

“What's a la-la..”

“Lavvo.” Henry repeated the word, slowly, chuckling. “It's like a tipi used by the Native Americans, but a lavvo is used by the indigenous Sámi people.” He explained to you.

“Oh, I bet they're really cool.” You smiled at him, intrigued.

“They are.” He nodded, smiling at you. “Well, this is the living room.” He said, motioning to it with his free hand. “And down this way is my study, kitchen, dining and sitting room.” He gave you the tour, as you slowly walked down the hall.

“Yours?” You frowned, pausing to look up at him. “Is this your house?”

“Yes, it is.” Henry smirked, amused by your shock. “I had the spare room to accommodate you.”

“Where's Dr. Elliot?” You asked, concerned.

“The Elders of the village thought it was wise to have him stay at our physician's home, in case his condition worsened. That way his care was immediate.” Henry explained to you, ushering you into the kitchen. “He's just one house over, you have no need to worry.” He told you, pulling out a chair from a small table that was situated in the kitchen and lowered you into it.

“Sit down and rest for a minute.”

“Why are you up here?” You asked, watching him move about the kitchen.

“What do you mean?” He replied, looking over at you.

“By your accent, you're British—in the Arctic.” You stated plainly, watching him. “Why are you here? Why do you live in this village?”

Henry sighed, softly. “I was married.” He said, quietly, pulling down two cups. “I met my wife, while she was studying medicine in London. We hit it off, dated and she brought me up here to meet her family.” He explained, filling a kettle with water from the sink and set it on the stove, igniting the burner below it.

“At first, I loathed the cold, but I loved the area, it's a beautiful place.” He chuckled, taking down an air-tight jar from a cabinet. “So, Sikká and I returned to London, so she could finish her medical degree, then once she had graduated, we returned up here, where we married and lived together.” He said, spooning loose tea leaves into an infuser inside the rumbling tea kettle.

“Where is she now?” You asked him, lifting an eyebrow. “Is she the one watching over Dr. Elliot?” You inquired, and instantly regretted it, seeing the way his shoulders suddenly stiffened.

“No.” He whispered, then cleared his throat. “She's not. How do you like your tea?” He asked, taking the kettle off the stove as it screamed, steam jetting out of the spout.

“Um, milk and honey, please.” You floundered, gulping and confused.

Nodding, Henry put the two cups together, setting yours down in front of you, then sat down beside you. “You said, you studied glaciers?” He said, closing his palms around his cup.

“I did.” You nodded, taking a sip of your own tea. “I'm a Glaciologist.”

“Why glaciers?” He asked, thumbing the rim of his cup.

“I find them fascinating and it has to do with a childhood memory with my family.” You explained, staring into the light and rich brown liquid, suddenly feeling home-sick.

“Is that why you're out here?”

“Yeah, this is supposed to be my first Arctic Research Excursion, I've only been out of university with my doctoral degree for a year.” You told him, taking another gulp of your tea. “I haven't even gotten to see a glacier yet. I've only almost died and gotten someone else killed.”

“Hey.” Henry sighed, resting his hand on your forearm. “What happened wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known that Dr. Elliot was going to have a medical episode out there. It was a freak event, don't allow yourself to take the blame for it. No one is to blame for it.” He tried to coax you, gently squeezing your arm.

“I suppose you're right.” You sighed, biting your lip.

“Look who's up and about!” Penelope's voice sang out in the hallway as she approached the kitchen.

You looked up from your tea and smiled over at her, seeing her cheeks and the tip of her nose red with cold. “Yes, Henry thought it would be a good idea.” You told her, glancing at him, as he got up, pulling a chair out for Penelope.

“Please, I can take care of myself.” She shooed him, touching his shoulder.

Henry grunted at her, pressing his lips together as he sat back down. Penelope smiled over at you, before turning away and taking down a cup for herself, then fixed a cup of tea and joined you both at the table, taking the chair Henry had pulled out for her.

“So, how are you feeling?” She asked, looking across the table at you.

“Better.” You replied, nodding your head. “I don't feel as shaky and cold as I have been. Still tired and weak though.”

“You'll recover and be strong again in no time!” Penelope assured you, raising her mug to you, then drank from it.

“Mentioning it.” Henry added, leaning in a bit, his eyes on you. “You've grown a bit ashen, since coming down here.” He pointed out, his blue eyes concerned. “Come, let's get you back to bed.” He said, pushing back his chair and standing back up, putting his half full cup of tea in the sink.

You didn't argue with him, you were starting to feel a bit run down, so you stood, pushing yourself up with the help of the table, before you felt Henry's hands on you, one on the small of your back and the other on your elbow. Penelope watched Henry support you to the door of the kitchen and down the hall, where you both paused, Henry glanced at you, then at the stairs and narrowed his eyes.

“Don't take this the wrong way.” He said, before scooping you up. “It's a lot easier going down the stairs than it is going up the stairs.” He reasoned, carrying you up them and into your room.

“Thanks.” You replied, not meeting his eye, shyly.

“Hm.” He hummed, gently setting you down on your bed. “Do you need anything?” He asked, as you pulled your slippers off and removed the robe he gave you.

“No, I'm all right.” You answered, shaking your head and tucking your feet beneath your blankets. “Thank you, though.”

“You didn't finish your tea.” He pointed out, folding your blankets over your lap. “I'll have Penelope bring it up to you.” He said, turning towards the fireplace and tossed a couple of logs into the fire.

“Need to chop some more wood.” He muttered to himself.

“I'm sorry to be such a bother to you.” You said, as Henry reached the door.

Henry paused, looking at you over his shoulder. “You haven't been a bother in your whole life.” He chuckled, then went out, quietly closing the door behind him, and went back downstairs to the kitchen.

“You told her about Sikká.” Penelope said, still sitting at the table, nursing her cup of tea.

“So, you were listening out in the hall.” He replied, looking at her from the corner of his eyes as he picked up your cup. “And yes. I told her a teeny bit, what does it matter if I tell someone about my wife?” He retorted, shaking his head at her.

“It matters, because you don't talk to any of us here about her, but you'll talk to a stranger?” Penelope argued, distraught.

Henry let out a hard breath, his shoulders slumping forward and closed his eyes. “I know.” He mumbled, calmly. “It just came out. I didn't intend on telling her about Sikká, Pip.” He confessed, slowly slipping into the chair you had been in. “But, it was so easy to tell her, because she has no memories of her, no knowledge of her existence. So, she can't open or poke at that wound, like you and everyone else in the village can.” He explained to her, finally lifting his head to look her in the eyes.

A tear threatened in his eye, “I miss her, so very much, Pip.” He gulped, the tear dripping from his thick lashes and into his beard.

“So do I.” Penelope answered, her own voice harsh with threatening tears. “Aram wants to see you, apparently he has another problem.”

Henry groaned, wiping his face and pinching his nose. “Of course, there's another problem.” He huffed, shaking his head and stamping his foot on the floor, in frustration. “Fine, I'll go out and see to it.” He resolved, standing up and going to the mud room, pulled his boots on over the thick thermal socks adorning his feet, his jacket and beanie. “Will you take her tea up to her?” He asked, pointing to the cup still on the table, then went out into the still blowing blizzard, to tend to the issue the villager had.

Penelope watched Henry's figure disappear through the window in the mud room door, before getting up and grabbing your cool cup of tea and frowned at it. She turned towards the stove and removed a pot from inside the oven and set it on the burner, pouring your cool tea into and warmed it up, before taking it up to you.

“Henry asked me to bring it to you.” She explained, letting you take it from her.

“What happened to his wife?” You asked, as she made to leave.

It was true, they had talked about it, but it never came to anything. At least, nothing beyond Charles’s dismissive grumble at the kitchen table, or a vague promise that it would happen ‘when the time is right’. Granted, Olivia had never been one of those little girls who wore lace curtains like a veil or went to fancy dress parties in a wedding dress, but still, it bothered her that Charles didn’t seem too interested in the idea of marriage. It was ironic, really. On the surface, Charles Brandon was everything Olivia’s parents wanted for her – a handsome Oxford graduate with a career in finance – but after five years together, Olivia wasn’t sure if she was staying because she loved him, or because her parents did.

Her phone vibrated. She knew exactly what was coming. Withholding an exasperated sigh, she answered.

“You’re not going to make it, are you?”

“Sorry babe. There’s just so much left to do and apparently I’m the only one who gives a fuck about doing it.”

Olivia sunk down in her seat. “One day you’re going to work yourself into the ground. Couldn’t you have given all of this to someone else?”

“I could’ve, but they would’ve done a half-arsed job that would put my neck on the line.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. It’s Christmas for God’s sake! You really do work with a bunch of Scrooges.”

Charles laughed. “I do.” A pause. “I have a surprise waiting for you. Will that get me back in your good books?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“If I told you that, it wouldn’t be a surprise. You’re going to love it. At least, I hope you will.”

“I’m intrigued.” A tiny spark of hope ignited within her. “I’m almost home. The train’s packed, so I’ll have to go. See you later tonight.”

There was no sweet exchange, only a shuffle of papers and a hurried goodbye.

When she arrived at the townhouse they shared, Olivia rushed upstairs and flung the wardrobe doors open, fishing around in the half-darkness. Nestled in between the two gift bags Olivia had prepared was a third, smaller bag. She reached for it, retracted her hand, then gave in to her curiosity.

An envelope and a little black box.

Olivia’s cheeks heated. Was he really staying late at the office or just trying to distract her? She envisioned him filling the apartment with roses as he had done for their first Valentine’s Day together. She’d walk in, and there he would be, down on one knee, waiting for her. She hurriedly threw the bag back into the wardrobe and primped in the mirror.

She thought then of all the versions of herself she had been before she met Charles. All the pieces of herself she had given away.

In university, one kiss with class clown Mike led to a proposal with a Haribo ring after one too many Jägerbombs. After that, a series of flirty exchanges with a soldier led to a promise to meet that, of course, never came to fruition. Then, there was Walter, a Police Officer who rather unceremoniously called off their engagement via email.

This time, she would make the right choice.

She changed her clothes, called a cab, picked up the gift bags and headed outside.

When she arrived at the family home, she was greeted with crushing, warm hugs from her mother, Prue.

Prue peered over Olivia’s shoulder. “No Charles?”

“Working late. He sends his love, though.” Olivia held out one of the gift bags. “And this.”

“How sweet!” Prue took the bag and ushered her daughter inside. “I imagine he must be tying up a few things, getting ready for the big move.”

Olivia threw her coat onto one of the hangers in the hallway, then cocked her head. “Big move?”

Prue tensed. She had said too much. “He hasn’t told you, has he?”

Olivia shook her head. “Nope. What’s going on?”

“He got an offer to transfer to New York. He bought an apartment last week. I suppose you’ll have to pretend to be surprised now.” Prue frowned. “Sorry, love.”

“So it was a key.” Olivia sat on the stairs, hands clasped. “I thought he was finally going to propose.”

“Your father and I thought that too, but this is still a big step for you both, you know.”

“Not big enough.”

She got up and walked to the kitchen. Her father Philip was hunched over the stove, prodding at his famous Christmas ham with one hand, a glass of sherry in the other. A familiar, booming laugh sounded from the living room. She immediately turned to her mother.

“Is that…?”

Prue poured herself a glass of sherry and tipped the glass towards the living room. “Colin and Marianne were the only ones who could make it this year. Henry’s here too.”

Olivia’s throat tightened. She grabbed a glass and knocked back a liberal measure of sherry.

Of all the men that had come and gone in her life, the biggest piece of her heart had been given to him.

“I thought I heard you in the hall!” Marianne approached, arms wide open. She kissed her on both cheeks. “Come and sit down.”

Henry rose from the couch when she entered, pulling her against his broad chest.

“It’s good to see you, Livvy.”

Only Henry called her that. A subtle shudder ran across her shoulders as she felt his warmth leave her.

“You too, Hen.”

Henry inclined his head towards the conservatory. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Ain’t it obvious, darlin’?” Syverson chuckled, shamelessly grabbing my breasts with a primal need, roughly palming them in his work roughened hands.

“In case of a tie, we have you at the same time.” Walter explained, bending his knees to rest his chin on my shoulder, his thick arms wrapping around my waist and hoisting me up against his chest, Syverson taking his chance to toss my legs over his shoulders, my body now a bridge between the two men.

“But… but we haven’t…” I gasped, reaching up and wrapping my arms around Walter’s neck, my fingers tangling in the soft curls I found there.

“That’s why we’re doin’ it.” Syverson chuckled like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Best way to figure out who does it best. Don’ worry, I’m goin’ first to show him how it’s done.” He taunted as he pushed my skirt up around my waist. One finger slipped beneath the already wet fabric covering my dripping core, tugging the flimsy material aside and licking a firm stripe up between my folds.

“Now be a good girl, darling and sing nice and loud.” Walter encouraged, cupping the base of my breasts between his thumb and index finger, slowly applying pressure as his bearded face skated across my neck. I was out of my depth, taking both at once. Walter’s soft kisses skipped along that one spot on my neck that drives me nuts, his deep voice promising all manner of filthy pleasures they had in store for the night while his hands kept alternating pressure on my breasts. Syverson’s beard scratched and scraped along my inner thighs, leaving them a sore red mess while his lips and tongue worked magic over my swollen folds. His favorite place to be has always been between my legs, taking his time to perfect his art. Soft licks and kisses along my outer lips, slowly slipping further in to gently explore my entrance and soaked inner folds, pausing just before he touches my clit. When he feels generous, he dives in and licks my pearl, his tongue working tirelessly to bring me to bliss. Other times he decides to draw things out, giving only a small puff of air over my needy bud before starting the process all over again.

When I feel like I’m going to explode with want, he will finally turn his attentions to where I want them the most. A firm kiss followed by lightning-fast licks to my swollen nub before finally latching on and sucking hard. I explode over his mouth and jaw, Walter encouraging me the entire time, whispering what a good girl I was in my ear.

“Ya good with the rear or do ya want to switch?” Sy asked over my limp body as they worked in unison to lower me to the ground.

“I’m a bit of an ass man.” Walter chuckled, grabbing my plump cheeks firmly as they sat me up between them.

Before I had a chance to register what was being said, Sy lifted me up and sheathed himself inside me, simultaneously creating and filling a void deep in my belly. I threw my arms around his neck, consciously reminding myself to breathe. Sy wrapped one arm around my thigh, the other locking around my back and anchoring me to his chest, leaning us back far enough to allow Walter unimpeded access to my back passage. He started with just the slicked tip of one finger, slowly working further and further until he could move without resistance. Then he added a second lubricated digit, working me open, forcing me to relax so I could take him. He began to wiggle his fingers inside my dark passage, Sy grunting in surprise and jerking the pair of us away from Walter’s probing fingers.

“Could you feel that?” Walter asked, Syverson laughing his confirmation over my shoulder. “That was the strangest feelin’.” Syverson laughed, rolling his hips up into me to resettle himself inside me.

“I imagine this might be stranger.” Walter chuckled, pressing against my back as his bulbous tip pressed against my well lubricated hole. He rocked himself in slowly, making sure I was relaxed enough to continue before they jostled me between them slightly. Sy’s rough hands held my hips in a death grip, while Walter’s bear like paws clutched at my waist, the duo easily finding a rhythm between them. The feeling of being so full had me cumming in seconds, my head falling back onto Walter’s shoulders, neither man faltering as they continued to fuck me relentlessly. Nerves I never knew existed were singing with the double onslaught of pleasure. I wasn’t sure how many times I finished between the two grunting beasts. Hell, I wasn’t sure when one orgasm ended and another began at the end. All I to remember is Walter insisting on carrying me to bed and Syverson mentioning cleaning up.

Walter gently laid me down on the bed, giving an annoyed sound when Syverson asked why he wouldn’t wait until I was cleaned up before laying me down. Sy’s gentle fingers cleaned up the mess between my legs, tossing the washrag off into the hamper when he was done.

“Well, wouldn’tcha know it, darlin’?” Syverson sighed as Walter tucked me in. “We still don’ have a winner. Guess we’ll just have ta try again.”

~*~