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A million thanks to Lily_Moonlight and her prompt corrections! Can't tell you enough how much I value your reliable service!

Wishing everyone a very Happy New Year! Enjoy!


He couldn't tell why but he had needed to come again, simply to look at it and there he stood. Leaned against the driver's side of his car, he stared at the two-story building, the house which was the only one that lay dark, dormant, in a time of year when no other house was. It was the only house that was vacant. Vacant yet not without an owner. Not anymore. As of yesterday the house truly and wholly belonged like he had understood he belonged because he had understood that there weren't any choices to regret. Not even that of 1 ½ years ago when the job offer she had gotten had resulted in an argument that had torn them apart and he had lost yet another woman who mattered; who he cared for deeply. Lost in a different way but lost nonetheless and for weeks that had exactly what he had been, too. Lost.

Realization and acceptance had been slow yet they had happened and with that, recovery had begun. It had been a lot quicker, so that no more than 15 months after he had taken the step which had turned his life around, he had bought a house. The same house they had passed on so many walks they had taken through her neighborhood, the same house they had started to talk about, jokingly at first then more seriously, the same house they had begun to envision themselves in even though they had both never considered buying a house before. Yet circumstances had changed and it was that house they had toured a few weeks ago because they had been curious as to what it looked like on the inside. And it was that same house they had seen was still available on yet another of their walks a month ago on Thanksgiving.

It was then that he had made the decision he had already been pondering for a couple of weeks. And during the moments he wondered what in the world he was doing, he blamed her for the spontaneity of it. But he knew she meant what she had said and he knew what he wanted; he wanted that baby she would agree to only under one condition.

Even if the baby had other plans.

The thought made him smile; life had funny ways sometimes. But he was learning to appreciate that, its unpredictability, and she was a good teacher for that. She was, in fact, a good teacher for so many things, each moment of their shared life showing so clearly why the relationship had been the right choice. The only choice.

Drops of rain began to hit his forehead, big, round, splashy, and he knew that his only choice in that moment was to get back into the car if he didn't want to end up getting soaked to the bone. She should be home from work by now anyway and slipping back behind the wheel, he set the car into motion.

The scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled the bathroom, perfectly suiting the very feminine pleasure of a bubble bath; suiting also the time of the year. Much to the contrary to the high of 70 degrees they had had today. Temperatures Stella still hadn't gotten used to having in the month of December or winter in general, even if it was already the second one she had spent in New Orleans. As much as she had complained, she missed the cold, the hoping for a White Christmas, the hope for fireworks which would be reflected by snow…

And right now she was missing so much more; she was missing someone to celebrate with.

She had had a few invitations from the few friends she had made in the past year or so, mostly co-workers, and she had also had a few invitations from the friends she kept in contact with in New York. For both Christmas and New Year's. But she had declined them all.

Being without a family she didn't mind working on the holidays; it granted those with a family time so they could spend them with their loved ones and this year work had served the double purpose of that and distracting her from dwelling on the fact that there wasn't someone – Mac, to be exact – to go out to a late dinner with. Or bring in the New Year with. To sum it up, it had prevented her from dwelling on being entirely alone.

Shutting her eyes, she sank deeper into the water, trying to push those thoughts aside. She had wanted the bath to relax, to wash away some of the tiredness that had crept into her bones and that had made her go home less than an hour ago. If she could have, she would have stayed yet after the call to a scene had woken her at 5:30 this morning and she had worked for 16 hours straight her concentration had started to fade. Staying at work would not only have risked hers but everyone else's safety as well.

A faint jingle reached her ears and she jerked up. She could have sworn that it had come from outside the bathroom, the hallway to be exact yet as she now listened for any signs of an intruder, she heard nothing. Perceiving further silence for a few more moments, she dismissed it as a noise that had originated from one of her neighbors and allowing her finely tuned senses to relax again, she sank back into the water. She should get out, get dressed, grab a bite to eat. Should. Because none of it sounded appealing. Food least of all but the other two were a close second and third. There seemed no apparent reason to leave the comfort of the soothing water; all there was, was an empty apartment on the other side of the bathroom door, without anyone who would be waiting for her to snuggle into their arms, pass the time till midnight with. As long as she was in here, she could at least pretend.

Yet reason won; she wasn't doing herself any favors by remaining in the tub and after she had sunk beneath the water line for one final time, she reached for a towel. Wrapped in the soft piece of fabric, she got out, emerging minutes later from the bathroom clad in a leisure suit, her wet curls falling loosely onto her shoulders. Quietness greeted her as she had known it would, the sigh which fled from her lips barely disrupting the stillness. Dinner crossed her mind again and was dismissed, a glance at the clock telling her that there was a little over 20 minutes left until she could send the texts with the New Year's wishes to New York. She would follow those by a few selected phone calls in the hope that the networks weren't overloaded and which would keep her busy until she could bring in the New Year herself. But that was 20 minutes away, deciding that a tea sounded good, she walked down the hardwood-floored hallway, hardly making a noise in the thick, soft socks which covered her feet. In great contrast to whoever was on the other side of her front door.

Reacting quickly, she retrieved her gun from the purse she had left it in and positioned herself behind the door then thrust it open, her words getting stuck in her throat.