Happy Holidays, dear reader. I gift you my first ever holiday drabble. As always, I do not own these characters - they own me. (Admittedly, it was nice to visit with them.)
A beautiful tenor voice was clearly singing along to the familiar carol that was softly filling Honolulu Heights. "Gather near to us, once more. Through the - " Hal cut off abruptly when Alex rent-a-ghosted into the kitchen.
"Och - don't stop on my account!" She smiled encouragingly and plopped down at the kitchen table.
Hal cleared his throat, busying himself with whatever he had brewing on the stove. "I don't sing."
"Just keep telling yourself that, sugar." Alex smirked, then took in the unusual state of their kitchen. Every last surface was taken up by every last available baking pan and dish. "Jaysus. What are you up to? Aren't you supposed to be sparring with Tom?"
"Tom was called into work, thus we cut our session short. I suspect that he is being groomed for management." Hal was stirring the contents of a large stockpot with one hand, while staring intently at his wristwatch on the other.
"That still doesn't explain what you're doing," she prodded, but then she caught the rich scent of cinnamon and butter. "Those smell like something I would have macked a whole tray of on my monthlies. Which I'm glad Cutler cured me of, I'll have you know."
"One of the perks of being dead is less concern for your figure?"
"Well, that too. But the monthlies. Really don't miss that."
Hal laughed. She loved hearing him laugh. "You and Pearl both," he retorted, and stopped his concentrated stirring to swiftly remove his cauldron from heat. "I'm making Christmas caramels. Please restrain yourself from informing anyone, as it's meant to be a surprise for our dinner guests tomorrow. Since you've insisted we host half the Archive. And I can assure that I do know what I'm doing," he mock lectured the reply while lifting the steaming stockpot. He proceeded to pour a goopy line of its contents slowly into the first pan, then carefully moved to the next
"Rook and Nave are hardly half the Archive. And Maggie doesn't eat. I'm not going to let them mope about, getting drunk on Lagavulin like they did last year. We're hosting, and you love it. But this must mean that Tom's Christmas spirit is finally catching," she teased, glancing up to the twinkling holiday lights and garland that were festively strung up over the table. "Don't worry, Hal. You're secret is safe with me."
"And pray tell, exactly which secret might that be?" He asked with irony whilst pouring the last of the buttery thick contents, then setting the pot in the sink.
"You've got Christmas spirit after all!" Alex smirked.
Hal gave her a dubious look, but then redirected the topic. "I used to make these with Pearl. Amongst other things. Leo loved Christmas. It was his favourite holiday. Since apparently so do Tom and Allison, I thought they would enjoy these."
"That is quite literally sweet of you," Alex bantered, and leaned back in her chair. Last Christmas Hal had still been chaired, and far less conversational. And the Christmas before, he and Alex had not yet me which was quite the thought. It seemed odd to think it was still pretty recent that she had not yet met Hal Yorke. For better or for worse.
Leaving the pans to cool, he sat down beside her still wearing his impeccably clean apron. He opened the small packet of origami paper that was sitting on the table. "Admittedly, this had been my part. Pearl hardly let either of us near her cooking." He smiled at the thought, then began to fold each sheet with a triple crease, setting them aside into a neat stack.
"You still miss them." Alex stated. "You were a family for fifty-five years."
"Dysfunctional at best," he retorted. " But yes. I miss them. Especially at the holidays. I imagine I always will." After a pause he added, "What of your family's holiday traditions?"
"Eh, I'd be making the simplest junk food possible then we'd all pile in the van to go see the holiday market. Ryan would eat too many sweets and end up carsick, and Da would typically end up singing drunken carols. Dysfunctional at best." She smiled in an attempt to push down the sudden sense of loss she felt. To keep it at bay, she took a few sheets of brightly colored paper and began to help fold. Hal gave a suspicious eye towards her handiwork, but allowed her to continue. Together, it didn't take long to have folded most of the packet.
"I want to taste one."
Hal shook his head. "I know how to make them but that does not mean I'm particularly fond."
"Oh, come on - just one? They smell amazeballs and I know you won't let me try with company about."
"Amaze-balls?" Hal questioned and gave an expression of distaste.
Alex just rolled her eyes, then levitated the nearest tray to set down at the empty place at the table. "Pretty please? Not even this here twee imperfect corner?" She picked up the referenced piece, which was still more soft and gooey than she would have guessed. She raised an eyebrow and extended the treat towards him. Hal stopped folding with a huff and corrected his posture.
"Fine. I suppose, if you must."
Alex grinned and leaned towards him, caressing his neck with her free hand and offering forth the treat, but he didn't take it. "Well?"
"Well, you appear to be unaffected but trust me - the candy has not yet cooled enough to spare me a sticky fate. A spoon, perhaps?" He suggested with a tilt of his head.
"Just open your mouth, Hal," she said and leaned closer, weaving her fingers into his hair. He deliberated for a moment, a rebuttal clearly forming, but then he visibly let it go. He obliged. She smiled and lifted the treat to his parted lips. She placed the morsel upon his tongue and began to turn her concentration into him. His lips closed, catching her finger just as the explosion of velvety, warm sweetness hit her senses. Hal sucked her finger as the candy melted into buttery cinnamon, and he closed his eyes before releasing her. Alex lost herself to the taste and sensation momentarily, her fingertip against his lips.
"Hmm," he mused, pursed lips pushing her finger away. "I daresay you must be rubbing off on me."
Alex broke loose of the cinnamon sweet spell. "Me?"
"That is far better than I recall," he said, meeting her eyes. He licked his lips, savouring the residual sweetness before he kissed her. The kiss was cinnamon and spice and deeply warming.
"Mmm," Alex managed. "How long before we have to wrap them?"
"They must be thoroughly cooled," Hal replied, then kissed her again.
"So we've some time then?" She suggested mischievously.
"We have all the time you may wish," he answered. With a sly smile, he added, "If the fates allow."