"Damn it," Luke whispers as the elevator shutters to a complete stop, somewhere between floors five and four. His foot darts out to kick at the doors in frustration. He pulls his phone from his back pocket, pressing the home button only for the screen to remain blank. "Damn it," he repeats, louder the second time. Mentally chastising himself for forgetting to charge his phone.
"The elevator gets stuck all the time," Penelope replies, looking up from her phone, her fingers tapping away. "I've texted Jack in Maintenance, he'll have us out in no time."
"I'm going to miss my flight," he mumbles miserably as he leans against the opposite wall from the blonde woman.
"I can reschedule it for you, it won't take long," she tells him, waving her phone in his face. He nods, dropping his backpack to the floor and running his hands over his face. "Done, your flight now leaves at six in the morning." She smiles up at him. "You should be able to make it before Christmas breakfast."
"Thank you, Garcia," he tells the woman, glancing at her with a wide smile. "What're your plans for Christmas?" She shakes her head, turning her attention away from the man and back to her phone.
"I don't..." she begins, her thumb scrolling slowly up her screen. "I just stay at home and watch old movies." He watches her eyes, the slow blink they make as she tries to keep the tears at bay, and he finds himself wondering how this beautiful soul could be alone. He reaches into his back pocket, pulling his wallet out and sliding out his credit card, he hands it to the woman.
"Buy yourself a ticket," he commands. "You're coming with me." Penelope shakes her head again, holding her hand up to deny the offer.
"I'm fine, really." She locks her phone, tapping it against her left palm with her right hand. "I don't need you to pity me, I've been alone for a long time, I don't..." she trails off, looking up at him briefly.
"I don't pity you, you'd be doing me a favor," he tells the woman. "You'd save me from my Abuela asking when I'm going to bring a nice girl home."
"This isn't a rom-com, Newbie, I'm not going to pretend to be your girlfriend." Luke laughs softly, shaking his head and coming to stand before her, his eyes glancing over the brooch she had pinned over her left shoulder.
"Little secret, I hate Christmas...you wouldn't be alone and I wouldn't be alone." He whispers, taking her purse from her hand and placing it gently on the floor.
"Nobody hates Christmas," Penelope mutters, blinking rapidly as she looks up into the brown eyes of the man standing before her. Flippantly she continues, "It's impossible."
"I do," Luke whispers, his fingers lacing through hers. "This wouldn't be pretend either," he continues, leaning down to run his nose across her cheek. He smirks as he can hear her breath catch in her throat. Luke's other hand slides into hers, and he raises them softly above her head, pinning them to the wall.
"Luke," Penelope breaths, his mouth coming to hover over hers. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Trying to like Christmas," he whispers, pressing his lips to her cheek, dragging his lips across her jaw and pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth. The woman turns her head, capturing his lips with hers, as he grips her face between his hands. His mouth moves slowly against hers as he runs his thumbs over her cheeks. Sliding his fingers down her face and gripping her jaw, positioning her face so that he can have better leverage in her mouth. She gasps as he nibbles at her bottom lip, using the distraction to dip his tongue into her mouth with a chuckle. Penelope's arms grab at his jacket, pulling him closer to her as he wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her up and settling her on his knee. His hands sliding up her thighs and pulling his lips away from her mouth to trail them down her throat.
The sound of the elevator moving jolts them apart and he looks over at her, taking in her plump lips and her heaving chest. Luke bends down to pick up his credit card off of the floor and hands it to the woman, telling her again to order another plane ticket. She continues staring at the man, his credit card hanging from her fingertips, her eyes asking a silent question.
"I wanted to," he answers her, pointing to her dress "and mistletoe. Have you ordered that ticket yet?" She shakes her head, picking up her phone and typing on the keys as the elevator doors open. He follows her out of the elevator, picking up her purse and his backpack and shaking his head at the fast pace she was moving. She turns abruptly, shoving the card back into his chest.
"I'm not pretending to be your girlfriend," she tells him, snatching her purse from his hand.
"No, I don't expect you to pretend, Garcia." He chuckles, following her to her car and opening the door for her. "I'll follow you home so you can pack?" She nods her head, her right hand coming up to press against her still trembling lips. "It's New York, in December, its cold." He tells her chuckling, before closing the door and watching her glare through the window at him. Luke jogs to his car, plugging his phone in immediately as he prepares to follow Penelope out of the parking garage.