The line was out the door, and Vera at the end of it.

Maybe this was a sign, that today was not the day she should have ventured out to mail the handmade Christmas cards she'd spent the past few days working on.

But there was no turning back now, not with the ever-growing line crawling forward and pushing Vera along with it.

Keeping her head down, Vera rehearsed over and over what she was here for. I would like to mail these Christmas cards, please. She clutched them tighter against her chest, the way she normally did her sketchbook. The words and actions all made sense in her mind.

The easy motion of handing the clerk the ten dollar bill that sat folded in her jacket pocket. Of saying "You too" when the clerk inevitably wished her "Happy Holidays."

She'd gone through this all last night, and on the bus ride in to the city; it wasn't hard. It shouldn't be hard. It should be as simple as the colorful mental image she was able to paint, of a process that should take approximately two minutes; less, if she were to estimate by how quickly she was reaching the front of the line.

But art, she had learned, did not in fact imitate life.

Freezing when the person ahead of her was called to a clerk, Vera briefly considered just dropping the cards off in person. She knew where the Wright Anything Agency was; not as far away from the studio as it once seemed, now that she'd visited it several times. They would get their cards, and make sure Prosecutor Gavin was given his.

But there was always the off-chance Mr. Wright and Trucy wouldn't be home – that they were out as busy as the dozens of people who'd been helped before her. Not everyone's world ended at their front door, as hers once had, and still often did.

"Next!"

Vera's eyes widened; of course, the next available clerk was the one all the way at the end of counter, closest to the exit. At least that meant she could leave quicker, once this was over and done with.

"I would like to mail these Christmas cards." Carefully, she set the cards in front of the clerk, her throat empty and scratchy like the blank canvas sitting on one of the easels at home. Waiting to be filled. "P-Please?"

The clerk smiled in that tired, middling way Vera's father used to greet her with when he'd check in on the progress of her latest project. She hoped the clerk, who appeared to be close to her father's age, enjoyed her job more than her father had his – if it could really be called a job. Perhaps she was exhausted from the hectic day, and Vera prayed she wasn't doing anything to make it any more stressful.

Vera reached into her jacket pocket and squeezed her gloved hand around the bill. She was all ready for when the clerk gave her total, and was just about to pull it out...

"Would you like to purchase any stamps today, honey?"

"P-Pardon?"

"Stamps. Would you care to purchase a book?" The clerk's smile grew, and she tapped the laminated pictures stuck to front of the counter. "We have our default patterns, some holiday designs and even a new limited edition Steel Samurai set!"

"Wh-Why... Why do you want to... give me stamps, o-or..." She couldn't finish, her father's collapsing frame burning bright behind her eyes as she shut them and took a step backward.

It was why she had come here in the first place. The prospect of buying stamps and using them made her stomach turn, her heart race. It was silly, she knew – the stamp hadn't killed her father – that devil, Mr. Gavin, had. But the Devil had no limits, and Vera feared no matter how locked away he was – or how locked away she kept herself – he would find a way to do whatever he felt was needed.

She couldn't escape him.

"Miss? Excuse me, Miss?" The clerk's voice seemed to be coming at her from every direction. "You'll be needing to pay!"

She couldn't lift her shaking arms, her fist still clenched in her pocket. Even her legs, which had carried her a few steps away from the counter, could only tremble now.

She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't... couldn't breathe.

Couldn't.

There were disgruntled exclamations, surely everyone remarking their annoyance at how stupid and incompetent she must be. She wanted to get out of here. To disappear. If only she were a Gramarye...

But she had to be, of all the awful things in the world to be, Vera Misham.

"Vera!" A loud, familiar voice burst around her, a pair of hands snagging her by the shoulders and keeping her from sinking to the floor.

She could hear the voice barking to cancel the transactions, and the papery shuffle of her cards being swept up.

Then all she could hear as she was directed out of the post office was the sound of her own whimpers, the quavering, wet breaths threatening to choke her.

A shock of chilly air splashed over her, the winter breeze licking at her face and drying the tears on her cheeks. She tried to keep walking, but found she was already sitting, lowered onto a bench still under the secure hold of whoever had rescued her.

Finally the tears dripped away without replenishing, and she realized the person who saved her – it was someone who'd done so already before.

"Vera, take a deep breath. You're out of there now, okay? It's me, Apollo." He released her, but her body still felt knotted up, held hostage by the nameless horror that had spread throughout her. Vera's fingers automatically drew to her mouth, until the fleece fabric of her gloves prevented her from partaking in her old, almost fatal habit. "You're gonna be fine; you're not right now, but you will be. Just do this for me, okay? Please? Deep breath. Inhale, one-two-three..."

Hunched in on herself, Vera was able to do as Apollo requested by his second count of one-two-three, sucking in shaky, measured breaths, and exhaling them in the same interval. Each one came steadier and stronger than the last.

When she could speak again, the first thing that came spilling from her mouth was her gratitude – and her shame.

"Thank you... Thank you, Apollo... I'm so sorry for putting you through that, I shouldn't have... have gone out like that, but I-"

"Hey, you don't have to be sorry. And there's no reason you shouldn't have gone out – I think it's really brave that you did." Apollo's gaze searched her, maybe for some indication she believed him. She didn't, exactly, but she didn't like the idea of disagreeing with him either, so she kept silent. "I know it's not easy for you, and right now it probably doesn't feel like much of a victory, but... Vera, it's okay. You're trying, and that's seriously nothing you should ever be sorry for."

"I-I should have asked Trucy, or Mr. Wright, or... or you. But it's so close to Christmas, I didn't think you'd have time to... for something that's so... That I should be able to do myself. I need to... to learn..."

"You can ask any of us for help any time you want. I can't speak for Trucy and Mr. Wright, but there's very little chance I would say 'no'. I mean, my whole career centers on being there for those who need help. And learning how to... " Apollo paused. Vera would have too; there was no way to properly describe all that she was trying to accomplish ever since her father's death. "Well, how to adjust after... everything. It's definitely not something you can figure out on your own. At least, I wouldn't expect you to, because I sure as heck certainly haven't."

She'd heard more about it from Trucy than she had Apollo, and even that was very small snatches of information. That Mr. Gavin had killed Trucy's daddy – her biological one, of course, not Mr. Wright – and had for close to a year been a mentor of sorts to Apollo. Vera hadn't been able to comprehend that, as how could someone as noble and honorable as Apollo been under the tutelage of Mr. Gavin?

Then again, she constantly thought to herself, how could someone as innocent and naive as she was so often perceived to be have done so many criminal, unethical things, even unknowingly?

She was willing to trust Apollo, separate him from Mr. Gavin and the evil he had reveled in, just as Apollo seemed willing to do the same to her, and not equate her with all the forgeries she'd created over the past seven years per instruction of her father.

"Th-Thank you, Apollo," she repeated lamely. Words weren't her strong suit, especially when it came to her deepest emotions. But if she'd had her brush and oils at the ready, she would have swiftly and masterfully produced a picture of the sun high in the sky, warming up the frigid, bitter lifelessness of a winter's day. "I don't know what I would have done if you weren't there..."

"Well, I was there, so let's not think 'what if' I wasn't." Apollo shifted the messenger bag hanging from his shoulder onto his lap. "I have your cards in here, by the way. I guess you'll want them back. Unless you'd like me to make sure they get mailed for you."

"You're so nice, but no, I don't want to make you go out of your way to do all that. I should... just go buy stamps or..." She could say it, she could draw it; why couldn't she just do it? Saying it out loud, so simply – Vera realized how ridiculous she must have come across as, with that episode of hers.

Everyone but her, and maybe Apollo too. They were already sitting so close to each other, but he turned slightly so their knees brushed. Normally opposed to contact with another human, Vera didn't find it near as repelling in this instance, because Apollo wasn't someone who would hurt her. Who would hurt anyone.

"Uh, that's probably not the best option or even like, the thirty-fifth best option for you, Vera. And I really wouldn't be going out of my way, I gotta mail my best friend's gift anyway. He's gonna be away visiting family for Christmas, so I wanna make sure he has it to open Christmas morning. That's actually why I was in the post office to begin with."

"That's so kind of you..." A best friend; such a foreign concept to Vera. Of course Apollo had one, as surely did Mr. Wright and Trucy and everyone in line at the post office, and all the people she passed on the street. Just then, it hit her, and her gloved thumb, again, rose to her dry lips. "Oh, no, I didn't ruin any chance of you being able to send it, did I? If you want to go back and mail it before the post office closes, I... I'm fine now, I promise."

Apollo rubbed at his bracelet, a mildly suspicious stare revealing how thoroughly unconvincing she was. Vera expected him to, at any minute, argue her statement with the same fire he'd fought for her with in court.

Instead, he let his fingers fall away from the bracelet, and the judgmental look he was fixing her with fell too. In its place was the perfect portrait of understanding, and Vera mentally noted that when she got home and drew the events of today, the expression he was currently wearing would be the very first thing she scribbled down.

"It's no big deal, I swear. I can come back and do it Monday. It'll still get to his aunt's before Christmas without me having to pay express. It's not like I don't have the free time, and I'd rather be away from the agency anyway; there's only so many times I can hear 'The Italian Christmas Donkey'. Trucy won't stop playing it and – what?!" He stopped abruptly as a string of giggles escaped Vera.

"I know that song..." Vera's smile grew. "It's so cute. I see why Trucy likes it."

"Um, it's far less cute when Mr. Hat is singing the 'Hee Haw, Hee Haw' part," Apollo countered dryly.

Vera laughed again at the mention of Trucy's assistant, as she thought on the card she'd drawn for the magician. Trucy would be thrilled – hopefully - by the image of Mr. Hat bearing a Santa hat in place of his dashing silk one.

"Oh, you reminded me...!" And truthfully, he had, as Vera'd been too shaken from what occurred earlier to think logically. "My cards... you don't have to mail them. They're for you and the rest of the agency. Or, three of them are, and the other is for Prosecutor Gavin."

Apollo glanced at the bag still in his lap, where the cards were stored safely. "...Really?"

"Yes, I made them myself. I... I didn't know what you would want for Christmas and I don't really have enough to buy any of you half of what you deserve, so I just..." She trailed off, her arms crossing to hug herself.

"Do you wanna go with me somewhere to open it?"

"What... why would we go somewhere?" It didn't make sense; Apollo had the card right there in his bag. He could tear it open, read it, offer her a requisite 'Thanks!' and bid her goodbye in the span of less than a minute. Why would he try to spend more time with her, when surely she'd been nothing but an impediment to the plans he'd had today?

"Because it's a nice day? Because why not? Because I really wanna know you're okay, and I'd like a little more time with you be sure of it. I mean, I get if you do want to go home, after what happened, but... I have an errand to run and I'm kind of nervous about doing it, so maybe you could come along and your card could be like, my reward for getting it over and done with."

Her reply came without a second thought, and most importantly, without fear. "I can... try, at least. What kind of errand is it...?"

"There's a bakery a few blocks from here, about a half mile. I ordered a bunch of Christmas desserts from them, for the Agency's holiday party. Trucy insists she can conjure up figgy pudding from her magical panties, but I dunno." Apollo let out a sigh of resignation. "The thing is, I sort of know the owners, and they... offered to double my order for a discount, but I'm still gonna have to pay more than I was hoping to."

"Oh... um, are you able to discuss with them cancelling part of the order? Since you know them..."

"They don't really discuss things. And let's just say they aren't the type of people whose offers you want to refuse."

Vera pressed her lips together, not trusting it would be her answering, instead of the anxiety tugging on the corners of her mind, trying to steer her back to the studio. What help and support could she really give Apollo, in this circumstance? Wouldn't she make an already uncomfortable situation for him even worse? It was evident he was in need of someone confident and capable, which was saying a lot since he was already those traits, himself.

But he'd already risen beside her, one hand firmly curled around the strap of his messenger bag, and the other...

Proffered to her.

Vera took it, knowing there were some things in this world stronger than the crippling fear she'd long been captive to. Apollo was one of them.

Maybe for today she could be too.

For a place Apollo was so hesitant about visiting, Kitaki Pastries was nothing short of welcoming.

If the mouthwatering aroma of sweet dough and spices hadn't been enough to entice her, the adorable wooden sign above the doorway, bright orange and shaped like a fox's head, would have drawn Vera in.

"Oho, good afternoon! If it isn't little Mister Justice!" A hearty voice announced the second Apollo and Vera were inside, and when Vera saw the woman that voice belong to, she understood immediately what Apollo had meant about not wanting to turn her down.

Scary wasn't the right word, but presence – this woman had it in spades. Though she couldn't exactly hide behind Apollo, Vera made every attempt to do so, huddling close to him as he approached the register.

"Hi, Ms. Kitaki." Apollo opened his bag and fished out his wallet. "I'm here to pick up my order."

While Ms. Kitaki rifled through a planner, Vera drank in the cozy atmosphere of the bakery. The display beside the register was chock full of every kind of dessert imaginable. The green tea sponge cake caught Vera's eye the most. It was such a pretty hue, so precisely cut, it would have been a shame to eat it – and yet, she wanted to inhale the thing in two bites, it looked so appetizing.

"Ah, here we go! Let's see, one large Christmas cake."

Apollo confirmed this with a nod.

"And four dozen melonpan cookies."

"F-Four dozen?! I thought the special was two dozen, for the price of one." Apollo's hands clasped desperately to his wallet, like it was a rope he was dangling from the end of.

"Hm, the slip here definitely says four dozen. Twelve of each flavor. Plain and chocolate chip, and you get a sneak preview of our latest flavors, maple and blackberry, before anyone else. For you, our most loyal customer."

"Nnhgh... okay. Um, in that case, I don't think I can take it all on my bike in one trip. Is it okay if I come back and get the cookies later this evening?" Apollo sighed, handing Ms. Kitaki his bank card. He flinched when she ran it, as if he'd been physically struck.

"Not at all! You know how much I like you stoppin' by, kid. Twice in a day, what a treat." Ms. Kitaki lifted her chin in Vera's direction as she handed Apollo his receipt and card. "Who's the new one? Never seen her around."

"Oh, this is my friend Vera Misham." Apollo turned slightly, and his bag knocked awkwardly against Vera.

"Really cute for a friend, Justice." Ms Kitaki's smile spread wider. "Nice to meet you, Vera. You can call me Little Plum."

"It's nice to meet you too, Ms. Kita-"

"Vera, for the love of God, call her Little Plum." Apollo whispered, though plenty loud enough that Ms. Kitaki could hear. "Call her the Queen of England if she asks you to."

Vera bit her lip, unable to take her eyes off Ms. Kitaki, who appeared perfectly amused by it all. "Simmer down, Justice. You're gonna give the girl the wrong impression. You go ahead and call me whatever you'd like, doll."

Tucking a string of hair behind her ear, Vera forced a wavering smile. She remembered Trucy telling her magicians always performed their show with a smile. No matter how badly they might mess up, a smile would go a long way into making their act successful.

And she had a very long way to go, but if it was a rule a Gramarye abided by, it was a good place to start.

"This your first time here, isn't it, Vera?"

Vera murmured that it was, hands tight on the strap of her tote bag.

"Then how about trying some chestnut anpan, fresh out of the oven? It's one of our new products, and we could always use honest feedback. You kids up to it?"

Vera, admittedly, was hungry. If she hadn't bumped into Apollo, she would likely be finishing lunch up by now – although probably at home. And now, after perusing all the items in the case, she was even more so. She glanced at Apollo, who seemed to be waiting for her to be the one to make the final decision.

"Um, well, if Apollo isn't in a hurry, then... that would be nice..."

"No, no. No hurry! I got all the time in the world to help you out, Ms. Kitaki."

"And that's why you're my favorite, Justice."

Vera didn't say anything as Ms. Kitaki led the two of them to a windowside table, but couldn't have agreed more.

She'd always wanted to try different kinds of teas besides the plain black her father had kept around the studio, so Vera ordered a pot of oolong for her and Apollo to share. Assuming Apollo wasn't looking to purchase much else considering the total of all he'd already bought, Vera asked for the check when Ms. Kitaki returned.

"What's she doin' the buying for?" Ms. Kitaki asked Apollo sternly as she set the anpan and tea in the middle of their table. "You bring a pretty little thing like her around and don't even offer to pay?"

"Gnngh!" Apollo's eyebrows shot high as he scrunched back in his chair and frantically searched his bag. "No, wait! It's not like that at all. Hold on, lemme just get my wallet. I should have... Dammit, I just had it... hold on!"

Vera desperately wanted to assure Ms. Kitaki she had no issue with paying, but interrupting at this juncture could be not just unwise, but dangerous.

"Wa ha ha ha!" Ms. Kitaki erupted with laughter. She would have made a fantastic Santa Claus, Vera thought, with how jovial and loud her laugh was. "You're a riot, Justice. Don't worry about it, it's on the house. 'Tis the season, right?"

Apollo blinked, mouth parted in wordless surprise. Vera too, found herself in a state of stunned silence.

"Right?" Ms. Kitaki's expression tightened, and Vera was all too aware of the fact that there were not one, but two, clean knives sitting on the table.

"Y-Yes! Yes ma'am, 'tis the season!" Apollo all but shouted as he pounded a fist down on the table to emphasize his agreement.

With another rich wave of laughter, Ms. Kitaki left them. Vera took the opportunity to pour tea for the two of them, giving Apollo time to compose himself.

"That was very sweet of her... this looks delicious." Vera cut off a slice of anpan for each of them.

She took a bite, mouth exploding with flavor. It wasn't a complicated recipe, the mixture of dough and nutty filling, but Vera supposed that was what she liked about it. Simple, yet satisfying. "Try some, Apollo. It's really good."

After a few careful seconds of chewing, Apollo swallowed and broke into a pleased grin. "Hey, it is."

Soon, both their slices had disappeared. Apollo opted for a second. But Vera, having consistently examined the colorful bakery display as Ms. Kitaki refilled it, then sold items to other customers, found the inspiration to draw far more overpowering than her hunger.

Apollo didn't protest when she dug her sketchbook out of her tote, and proceeded to outline the general lines and angles of the display. She caught him glancing at her movements with a keen interest every now and again, but other than that he seemed preoccupied eating the anpan and observing the stream of people who made their way in and out of the bakery.

Other times, Vera noticed, it was as though he was just facing their direction, but not really watching. She wondered what he could be so in thought about, but knew he might not be in the mood to share – especially with her. Vera couldn't say she didn't like the silence though, because it was companionable and not begging to be filled. For as bold and energized as Apollo constantly was, he didn't show any expectations for her to be the same.

She'd just finished detailing in the crosshatches that covered the larger melonpan loaves in the top row, when Apollo set his fork aside and spoke up.

"Oh, hey, so your cards." Rummaging through the bag beside him, he retrieved the four cards from within. "I'll give Mr. Wright and Trucy their cards tonight, at the party. Kind of early, I guess, but that's alright with you?"

Vera closed her sketchbook, and slid it onto her lap. "That's fine. What about Prosecutor Gavin's?"

Apollo's eyes narrowed, his reply coming only after a thick pause. "I'll part with the one stamp required to mail that."

"And yours?" Vera asked hopefully, lifting the teacup and watching Apollo through the steam rising from it.

"I was just getting to that." Apollo selected his card from the stack, using his thumb to tear the flap back.

Vera waited in breathcaught anticipation as he removed the card and studied it, then read the simple greeting inside before viewing the picture on the front again.

The drawing, consisting entirely of singular dots, was that of a hearth with a fire crackling, stockings lined above it awaiting Santa's arrival. Something about the coziness of it – how one would just be able to drift into a relaxed contentment, curled beside the flames and appreciating their warmth – it felt the natural choice for Apollo.

At least, Vera had thought so. She wasn't sure what Apollo thought, but his reaction – a smile worthy of its own picture – told her it must be positive.

"Wow, Vera, you did this all yourself?" Apollo laughed a little to punctuate his question, then shook his head. "Well, of course you did. I just mean, it's really good, I've never seen art like this. Made of dots. I can barely complete a connect-the-dots picture, let alone create a picture that looks like a photograph from them."

"It's called pointillism. Making art solely from dots. I've seen, sometimes, other artists use a collage of photographs to create a larger picture, it's kind of like that. I'd never attempted it before and I'm supposed to... try new things. A-And I know you, Trucy... Prosecutor Gavin, you mean for me to... try things outside of home, not art. But sometimes I can't, so..." Her face tipped down, as if she might find the rest of her sentence in the slosh of tea left in her cup.

"So...? Yeah, sometimes you can't – happens to everyone. But sometimes you can. You made these cards, you went out today, and you probably saved me from running my mouth and getting shish-kabobbed by Little Plum. See, Vera, there's a lot you can and did do, and that you'll keep doing."

"I... Apollo, it doesn't feel like that, though. It always feels like I can't, like everything's so hard. I wish it was all as easy as..." The tingling start of a sob prevented her from finishing her sentence. Why did it always happen like this, with no warning, no time for her to at least try and defend herself? "I'm sorry, I know you're just trying to... to help, but..."

"Hey, okay, I'm not trying to downplay it at all. Maybe I might make it sound that way, but I'm an attorney; bluffing is a specialty of mine. I know it's not easy, especially when it feels like you're going it alone. But that's the thing, Vera, and I know it can get hard to remember sometimes... you're not alone. Me and Trucy... Mr. Wright, and even, I'm sure, Prosecutor Gavin; we wouldn't let you be."

"Oh..?" Vera stuttered out. It was more surprising to hear than it was comforting, mostly because she'd lived her whole life alone, other than her father. Now that he was gone, wasn't that just how things should be? Why would or should Apollo or anyone else work so hard to make it any different?

"Just like you wouldn't let me be alone today, and... I really needed it, Vera." His eyes turned back down to her card, attempting a thin smile that held a despondence Vera was painfully acquainted with. "I almost didn't go out today, myself."

"Why?" Vera asked, before realizing how insensitive of a query that was. She would have been petrified if someone had asked the same question of her.

"I don't know..." Apollo's words were fractured with sadness. "I knew I had stuff to do today, with the cake and maybe Clay's gift, and the party tonight but... I just didn't want to. It felt so... impossible, for whatever stupid reason. No reason at all, really, just... because. You know?"

Vera did, all too well, and nodded.

Apollo's brows creased together, features arranged in a deep concentration. "Well, anyway, sometimes real strength is persevering even when you don't have any. Or, at least that's what it said on a fortune cookie I had last week. So I forced myself out of bed... and here I am. Here we are."

"I'm glad you did..." Vera said softly. It felt so throwaway and pointless to say, but she meant it, could have testified under oath to it. She wished she knew how to demonstrate the connection, the solidarity she felt with him, but it was so new and foreign and she was so pitifully inexperienced with handling anything even familiar, let alone the unknown. "And I'm glad I'm here."

Moving his gaze from the card, Apollo's eyes locked with hers, coming back to life with a hopefulness. "I am too."

"So what's the verdict?" Ms. Kitaki asked, and set down a medium-sized square box at the end of the table. Apollo's cake.

"Oh, it was amazing." Vera assured her, not having much to compare it to. She didn't know how to expand beyond that, except for adding, "This is the best dessert I've had in a very long time."

"Duly noted." Ms. Kitaki said. "What's your take, Justice?"

"Incredible," Apollo replied without a second's hesitation.

"If you've got something to say, say it." Ms. Kitaki cast him a wary look. "I thought you attorneys were all about pointing out inconsistencies."

"Um... I guess it could be a little less...gooey? Like, uh... more nuts. Just my opinion though! It was still really good, I wouldn't think of buying anpan anywhere else."

"Great, I'll tell the Boss. See, Justice, that wasn't so hard. What, did you think I was gonna place a hit on you just for a little constructive criticism?"

Apollo's nervous laugh indicated he hadn't considered it out of the realm of possibility, and he passed his empty plate to Ms. Kitaki.

"So, you kids got any special plans for Christmas?" Ms. Kitaki asked as Apollo and Vera gathered their belongings and slipped into their jackets.

"Well, Mr. Wright is bringing Trucy over to his friend's place, some artist or something. He said I could tag along if I wanted, so..." Apollo shrugged, and zipped up his hoodie. "I didn't even know Mr. Wright really had friends, so that's part of it – I'm not gonna believe it unless I see it for myself."

"I like your style, Justice. Need to see it with your own two eyes. I'm the same way, I couldn't believe you were a lawyer myself until you saved my Wocky's hide."

"Yeah... hey, waitaminute!"

Ms. Kitaki turned her attention to Vera. "What about you, doll?"

"I'm not sure. There's a church not too far from the studio; at least, I can hear the bells every once in a while. I was thinking maybe it'd be nice to go... during the morning service, and draw the families that come and go."

"If that isn't the most darling thing I've ever heard... " Ms. Kitaki spoke in a softer tone – which was still much louder than anything Vera could ever muster. "Listen, if your afternoon's free, you can always drop by here. There'll be plenty of tea and pastries to go around."

"You'll be open for Christmas?" Apollo asked, shouldering his bag.

"Darn right we'll be open. It is a family business, after all, so we'll be spending it together here, as a family, with specials for anyone who wants to stop by. We've got a bunch of regular customers who don't have family, for one reason or another." Ms. Kitaki's smile broadened, a proud sparkle in her eyes. "But the Kitakis are their family now, and the door's open for them."

Vera had heard the expression before, "You can't pick your family." She'd never heard about your family being able to pick you, although she wasn't going to debate that with Ms. Kitaki.

"But you, Vera..." Ms. Kitaki stared down at Vera thoughtfully, weighing her with a careful consideration. "I'm personally inviting you. You're a sweet kid, I can tell. And call it instinct, but something tells me you don't spread that sweetness 'round enough."

She didn't want to confirm anything, so Vera settled on saying, "Thank you, Ms. Kitaki. I'll... I'll think about it."

"And you, Justice," Ms. Kitaki patted Apollo on the shoulder. "The Boss'll be manning the store by the time you come back for your cookies. So if I don't see you before then, have a Merry Christmas."

"You too, Lit-"

"Or else."

Vera didn't think even a Gramarye could make Apollo vanish as quickly from the bakery as Ms. Kitaki did.

"Do you think you'll go there on Christmas, then?" Apollo adjusted the cake box in his arms, peering over at Vera. It was the first thing either of them had said since they'd left the bakery, and Vera was thankful for the allotment of time she'd been given to process all that had occurred in the past couple hours. It'd been more eventful than most months of her life, and she was equal parts excited and overwhelmed.

"I'd like to, but that's a week away. I can't... I can't promise that far ahead. How I'll feel." Vera didn't mean for it to sound pessimistic, but she certainly couldn't have predicted the gamut of emotions she'd ran today. "A lot has happened, I need... to think about it."

"Yeah. I get that. I think it'd be worth it, if you do. But it's alright if you don't, Vera. Ms. Kitaki might seem scary but she'd understand – and I'll even talk to her, and make sure she does, okay? You're right, it is a lot."

They'd reached the streetlight where Apollo had his bike chained, and Vera held the cake momentarily as Apollo unlocked his bike with a series of clinks and creaks.

Before she could decide that she had absolutely no reason to be telling Apollo this, she blurted out, "I'd love to be able to ride a bike some day."

Oh, what the heck was she saying? What did that have to do with anything? And why would she admit to Apollo just how inept she was, almost twenty years old and unable to ride a bike?

"Well, maybe I can teach you. As long as you promise you're not going to just use it as a stepping stone for a motorcycle. I don't need you and Gavin forming some kind of, I don't know, creative arts bike gang."

Vera couldn't remember the last time she'd just burst out laughing the way she did in that moment. It was possibly the most absurd thing she'd ever heard of, so warped even surrealism wouldn't do the image in her mind justice.

"I don't know why I said that, sorry." But he didn't sound too sorry, laughing right along with her. "I just... wow, that was such a weird thing to say."

"...But it was funny," Vera responded between giggles, her anxiety over having said something foolish now replaced with a strange but notably better feeling. She wished she could bottle it, not just to save for herself but to share with others the way Apollo was sharing it with her.

"I'm always here for a laugh, even if it's at me, and not with me." Apollo climbed onto his bike, steadying the box carefully atop the handles, his arms creating a cage of sorts.

There was a pause, and Apollo's smile adopted a more tentative edge to it. He seemed to be in thought about something, his mouth open very slightly for a few seconds until the sentence pushed its way out.

"I guess it'd be kind of... a bit much for me to ask if you wanted to come to the holiday party tonight, too. It's not until seven, so you'd have time to go home and kind of... prepare, if you wanted."

Vera did... oh, she did, so badly, but it wouldn't be okay. She wouldn't be okay, not because of anything Apollo did or would do, but she knew her limits. Today, she'd already surpassed them tenfold, and come away mostly unscathed but still terribly exhausted.

"No, Apollo, I... it sounds nice, but I... I think I'll have to pass. I'm sor-" She stopped herself. She wasn't sorry, not really. "Thank you, though. For asking."

A dull ache pressed itself in between Vera's heartbeats as she fought with herself to say something more. Anything meaningful, so their afternoon wouldn't end on such a forgettable note.

"And thank you for..." She just couldn't think how to describe it. Nothing seemed appropriately fitting, at least nothing that didn't sound overdramatic. "N-Nevermind. Merry Christmas."

To Apollo's credit, he didn't pry for more words – the ones she was able to provide were enough. A gentle smile brightened his face, and he toed the kickstand up, setting his feet upon the peddles. "Merry Christmas to you too, Vera."

Vera watched as he biked away, for the first time not entirely eager to escape into her artwork. She needed time to absorb all this, yes, but she didn't want to leave this life in favor of her paints and pens.

Instead, she would combine them. Not only create something new and beautiful, but be part of it.

After several minutes of wandering, she found the bus stop she needed to wait at. The second she boarded the bus and found a seat, she withdrew her sketchbook, opening to the drawing she had started at the bakery.

It was just shapes and angles, that no one would be able to interpret what it was unless they knew specifically she'd been sketching a bakery.

Vera began filling in more detail, subjects to stand out against the background. A girl with long hair, sitting across from a boy with pointed bangs. Between them, a large, friendly woman carrying a tray full of tea and sponge cake. The three of them, all so glaringly different from one another, had one trait in common.

They were all smiling.

Vera, as she drew it, was smiling. And she couldn't stop, either drawing or smiling.

About ten minutes into the ride, a man boarded and stood clutching the handhold ring above her. Vera still hadn't gotten used to how riding public transportation sometimes lent itself to severely having her personal space invaded, but the man kept a respectable distance, as much as one could.

He was completely immersed in whatever game was on his phone, until he bent down a bit closer, looming over her shoulder. "Whatcha drawin'?"

Vera had to remind herself, it was in all likelihood a harmless question. Still, it caught her off guard and she found herself tilting the sketchbook closer to her body, as if that were the most important thing requiring protection. To Vera, it was.

"...I don't know," she replied. He gave a hum of affirmation and turned back to the application on his phone.

And truthfully, she didn't know what she was drawing; it didn't have a name, a description she could verbalize. All she knew was that, when she did finish it, Apollo would be the first to see it.

Right now, however, it wasn't much to look at, to bother sharing with Apollo or anyone. Despite it all, Vera's smile refused to fade, as she closed her sketchbook and stowed it away when the bus approached the stop around the corner from her studio.

It might still be a work in progress, but every great masterpiece had to start somewhere.

This was a little gift for a friend's birthday, a friend who happens to ship Vera/Apollo! I think they're pretty darn cute together myself, and this was my first time writing either of them...it was really fun! Feedback is always welcome; thanks for reading!