Disclaimer: I own nothing

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Anyone up for a little Christmas in August? Just a little plot bunny that nibble on me. A result of too much fanfiction and romantic music.

Zoey sat at the kitchen table, staring at the phone in the corner and tapping her fingers anxiously on the wooden surface. Where could he be? She bit her bottom lip, slicing it so hard with her front tooth she tasted blood. She hastily wiped it away with the back of a finger before going back to worrying again.

"It's really coming down out there," Lola remarked, dipping her head to get a better angle to look out the kitchen window. Snow swirled in huge gusts, slapping hard against the window and causing the glass to rattle in its frame. It had been like this all day, and didn't show any sigh of letting up. She rinsed off a plate and placed it in the dishwasher, then wiped her hands on a dishcloth. "I can't even see the plant box on the windowsill." Lola sat down across from her friend and put a consoling hand on Zoey's arm.

The gang had gathered at Logan and Quinn's cabin in the mountains for Christmas, and while everyone else was thankful for the warmth against the ice and snow outside, Zoey worried. Chase had been in New York all week for work, and the way the weather was, it didn't look like he was going to be home for Christmas. His plane had been scheduled to leave that afternoon, but now he was probably stranded in an airport for the night. She only hoped he was trapped in some airport, and not anything worse. The snow-storm spread from northern California all the way to Denver, and it was getting worse every minute.

"All right!" Logan came in, toting a bottle of brown liquid and a package of plastic cups. "What would Christmas be without eggnog?"

"A sober one?" Lola offered, but took the cup Logan handed her and took a sip.

"And what Christmas without a little drunkenness?"

"I'm not even going to answer that," Quinn said, coming in and giving her husband a peck on the cheek. "But I'll take some eggnog, if you don't mind."

"Have all you want. It will just make the job of seducing you later all the more fun," Logan waggled an eyebrow at her as she smirked at him. "And easier."

"Since when have you ever had trouble seducing me?"

"Good point," Logan gave her a hearty kiss before pouring himself a glass.

"Looks like you've been nipping into the eggnog a little early," Michael laughed, coming downstairs. "I could hear you at the other end of the house."

"Just drunk on Christmas spirit, my friend," Logan handed him a plastic cup full of the liquid and smiled. Michael mock toasted him and took a healthy swig.

"Jeez, Logan," Michael coughed and set the cup down on a nearby end table. "How much alcohol is in that?"

"You don't want to know," Logan said, taking another sip of his. "I stopped measuring after awhile."

"Okay, I think that's enough for you." Quinn laughed and took his cup away. "I saw you drinking as much as you were making this morning. No more."

"Okay, but if I can't have eggnog, you're going to have to listen to hours and hours of annoying Christmas carols."

"I can deal with that."

"Bring it on!" Logan flipped on the stereo and fiddled with the dial, going through a great deal of fuzz before reaching a station he found satisfactory. The dulcet tones of I'll Be Home for Christmas wafted through the house, and Zoey sadly rested her head on her hand.

"He'll be okay, Zo," Quinn laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. Zoey said nothing, but continued tapping her fingers on the table.

"—winds at forty miles an hour southwest, precipitation at twelve inches and rising. All citizens are urged to remain indoors and out of the storm until further notice. Current temperature is at ten degrees Farenheit," the mechanical voice of the emergency broadcast system flooded the room, ringing in the ears of all present.

"Well, it's a good night to batten down the hatches," Michael said, trying to steer the conversation away from what Zoey was worrying about. There was a moment of silence as they listened to the wind howl outside the house before all of them jumped at the ring of the phone.

"I'll get it," Lola said, motioning for Logan to turn down the radio as Santa Clause is Coming to Town beat loudly through the speakers. She picked up the receiver and habitually cradled it between her cheek and shoulder. "Hello? Chase!"

"Chase?" Zoey said, sitting up from her slumped position.

"Yeah, I'll give her the phone," Lola said, walking over to where a very anxious Zoey sat. "I promise I won't put you on speaker. Come on, don't you trust me? Okay, here she is. Talk to you later." She handed Zoey the phone with a smile.

"Chase?" Zoey said, holding the phone with both hands. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Lola and Quinn push the guys out of the room, with whispered demands of privacy for their friend.

"Hey, Zo," he sounded very far away. Zoey punched the volume button on the phone a few notches higher. "How are you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" Zoey smiled in spite of herself.

"Humor me."

"I'm fine, we're all fine. Logan's tipsy from too much eggnog and blasting Christmas carols, but other than that, it's great."

"Sounds like fun."

"I've been so worried. Where are you?"

"Currently? In a gas station outside Las Vegas."

"Las Vegas? How did you end up there?"

"I caught a plane before the airports were shut down that took me as far as Denver, and then I took a bus here."

"Where are you planning on staying for the night?"

"Where you are."

"What?"

"I'm coming home for Christmas, Zoey, even if I have to walk there."

"Chase, there's a blizzard outside, with snow piling up at three inches an hour. Everything's shut down. There's no way you're going out in that kind of weather."

"Just a bit of snow. It can't stop me."

"Chase, just stay where you are. I've been worried about you all day, at least let me know you'll be safe for tonight."

"Zo, I'm not spending Christmas in an old gas station."

"I'm sure it's not that bad."

"No Christmas is nice unless you're with me." She heard his voice soften over the line. "Don't worry. I'll be home for Christmas. I promise."

"Chase—"

"Listen, I have to go…I'm holding up a long line of people, and there are some guys here large enough to use me as a toboggan." She knew it was a ploy to get her to laugh, but Zoey wasn't falling for it. He sighed. "I love you, Zoey."

"I love you, too. Be careful."

"Always. I'll see you later tonight." And with that, the line went dead.

Zoey sighed as she looked at the phone, which was now emitting a constant dial tone. She had so hoped Chase would be here for Christmas. But between the weather and the lack of transportation, it now seemed impossible. What on earth are you going to do Chase? What are you going to do? She only hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid. With the way the wind and snow were blowing, a person could get trapped and freeze to death before they got half a mile down the road.

She went through different possibilities he might take to get home. He could hitchhike, but who would be out in this kind of storm? He could always walk, but then he could get himself killed from hypothermia, or end up in the hospital. And neither of them wanted to spend Christmas there. Don't walk, she pleaded earnestly. Don't walk to me. Stay where you are. She knew he couldn't hear her, no matter how much she begged and wished.

She instead settled for snuggling down on the couch. Her friends had returned to the living room, but Chase's call and the guilt that they were celebrating while an important member of their gang wasn't there killed the buzz that had been in the room just fifteen minutes before. Being close to eleven, and out of things to do, people began to drift upstairs, to warm showers and cozy beds, to settle down and dream of pleasant things.

Zoey instead remained on the couch, watching the snow twirl in great cyclones outside the windows. She pulled a blanket around her, only vauguely aware that the fire Logan had stoked earlier had long since gone out. The mournful tones of Christmas songs that told of lost loves, and of Christmases better spent drifted through the room. And while she felt delightfully drowsy, Zoey knew she would get no sleep tonight. Not while Chase was out God knows where.

When the chill in the room made her fingers start to grow numb, Zoey resigned herself to getting another fire ready, though she knew very little about how to go about it. Three false tries, two banged toes, and one burned thumb later, a small flame shot up from the log in the fireplace, and quickly consumed it and the surrounding wood. She was satisfied, and wrapped herself up in her blanket again, this time choosing a small rocking chair closer to the fire.

Her knitting sat near by, a stress-relieving habit she had picked up in college, and had yet to quit. She found the gentle click-clack of needles and the fluid movement of yarn through her hand to be soothing, and the growth of knitted fabric after hours spent working it was rewarding. At the moment, she was working on a small blanket for her cousin, who was expecting a baby boy any day now. The entire family was in an uproar of excitement about it, this baby being the first of Zoey's generation to be born. The baby shower had already come and gone, but this wasn't something to be given at a shower. This was to presented the day the baby was born, provided she got it done in time. If not, a few days after wouldn't hurt.

She was unaware about the passage of time, but a sudden ache in her fingers from knitting and a throbbing in her back from sitting in one position for too long had her looking up at the clock on the mantle. It was nearly three in the morning. Wow, time flies, she thought, setting down her work and retiring to the couch. She wondered what she could do to fill the hours between now and dawn, as sleep was not on the horizon. She wondered where Chase was, and hoped that he wasn't walking along some deserted highway, struggling to stay warm. She shuddered thinking about it.

A clatter at the door awoke her drowsy senses not long after. Someone had found the spare key hidden under the mat and was trying to get in. Who robs a house on Christmas Eve? She sat up. Okay, make that Christmas morning. Someone's got a sick, sick mind. She tried to look out the glass of the front door a few feet away, but found the darkness of the room and the shadows cast by the fire made it impossible. She was frozen the couch, unable to dash upstairs to safety or call for help. A large, gangly figure stepped inside and shook a layer of snow off.

"That's it, I'm moving to the Bahamas," the figure said, throwing off a soaking wet scarf and stepping out of his coat. He shook his head, and an inch, at least, of snow settled on the floor at his feet.

"Chase?" she could hardly believe it. Yet, here he was, soaked to the bone and shivering, standing in the doorway. She sprung up from the couch and scrambled over to where he was. He scooped her up in a hug that lifted her off the ground, soaking her thin t-shirt (okay, so it was his t-shirt. But really, he didn't seem to mind.) in an instant. But she felt neither the wetness or the cold.

"Oh, Zo, I've missed you so much," he set her on her feet again and gave her a sound kiss.

"But….what? How in the world did you get here?"

"I hitchhiked with a couple trying to get home to the next town over, and though the roads were horrible, we managed to make it without much incident. We had a few skids, but the roads are covered in an inch of ice. After that, I just laced up my boots real tight and walked over here."

"Chase, it's at least three miles to the nearest town." Seeing that he still shivering, she took his hands between her own, trying to warm them.

"Five, actually."

"There's a blizzard outside!"

"I know. I think I brought some of it in with me," he nodded his head in direction of his wet outdoor clothes, which were sitting in a soggy pile a few feet away.

"It's below freezing!"

"Yep, but lucky me. No frostbite," he took his hands from where she held them and spread his fingers to show her. "Perfectly fine."

"You're such an idiot!" she admonished, hooking both arms around his neck and pulling him for a tight hug. "Such an idiot."

"It's okay," he murmured, burying his face in her hair. "I'm here now. I told you I'd be home for Christmas, didn't I?"

"Don't you ever scare me like that again!" she pulled back and nailed him with a glare that held more concern than malice. He chuckled and ran the back of his hand down her cheek.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You know I can't be away from you for very long. After that time in England, I feel like I leave my heart behind every time I leave," he kissed her forehead and watched her expression soften.

"Come on, let's get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold," she took hold of his hand and dragged him towards the fireplace.

Ten minutes later, he was changed into a new set of clothes, made to sit in front of the fire, and given a large mug of coffee with instructions to drink the entire thing. He laughed it all off rather good-naturedly, taking a sip of the coffee every now and then to appease her conscience. His coat and scarf hung on a peg to dry near the fire. Zoey hovered around, folding blankets, adjusting clothes near the fire. Eventually, he set the mug down and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms securely around her.

"You don't need to bustle around so much," he said, tracing small circles on the top of their intertwined hands. "I'm fine. Not even a sniffly nose."

"I know," she said, leaning back against him. God, how she'd missed him this week. It was so good to have him back in the same room. Hell, it was good to have him in the same time zone.

"Besides, I have a present for you,"

"It's not Christmas yet,"

"It's after midnight, dear. It's Christmas day,"

"Oh, right,"

"Anyway," he said, taking one arm away and reaching into the pocket of his coat that hung nearby. He pulled out something small, keeping it hidden in the palm of his hand as he brought it to rest in her lap. He smiled and handed it to her. "Open it."

It was a small black box, surprisingly dry despite the journey it had gone in the past twenty-four hours. She flipped open the top to reveal a simple band of gold and diamonds. Is that what I think it is? She turned in his lap to look at him.

"Chase?"

"Will you marry me, Zoey?" the question was asked in a hushed whisper, and he looked nervous, as though he was sure she would reject him. She looked from the ring in her hand to his expectant face and back. A wide smile broke over her face.

"Of course I will!" she all but shrieked, spinning a complete one-eighty and launching into a hug so forceful it knocked both of them to the ground. He said nothing, but the ear-to-ear grin and the passionate kiss said volumes. He slipped the ring onto her hand and pulled her close. She settled into his embrace, relaxed for the first time that night.

"Yes, you're an idiot," she murmured into his shirt. "But you're my idiot. And I love you."