Disclaimer: I don't own the Gifted!

A/N: Hehe, Merry Christmas!

Chapter 4

What was she supposed to do with her hands? Clarice wasn't nervous or anything, but she just couldn't figure out where she should put her hands. If she put one on the middle console, it would be too close to the elbow that John was resting there. And if she put them in her lap, that was awkward. And she just kept thinking about how the last time she rode with John in a truck like this, they were holding hands like it was the most natural thing to do. She settled for tapping her fingers against the dashboard, listening to the Christmas music on the radio station she had picked out.

"So, who exactly is in charge of this theater thing?" Clarice asked, looking back at Norah and Riley in the mirror. James had managed to get a window by actually pick up Riley and plunking her down in the middle seat. They had spent the first five minutes of the ride fussing and then there had been a couple songs that she and the girls had sung along to, which meant Clarice had managed to avoid awkward conversation for that long.

But really, talking to John hadn't felt as weird as she thought it would. Actually, back at the house, it had almost felt like nothing had changed. But everything had, and she had to keep that in mind.

"Mr. Kurt," Riley said. She was leaning against James and playing a clapping game with Norah. "He's going to be the Ghost of Christmas Present."

"Kurt Wagner?" John asked.

"Yeah, him," Riley said, "He really likes acting a whole lot."

"That sounds like him," Clarice said with a grin as she glanced over at John. He was smiling too, probably remembering how goofy and playfully dramatic Kurt had been back in school. Kurt had been the leading guy in practically every play and musical the little high school had put on. Their senior year was the one year that Clarice had coaxed John into being in the musical, though he had only joined in as a background pirate in some pirate-based musical their director had found for cheap. Still, there was video out there somewhere of John and Marcos in pirate outfits, singing along and waving swords.

"Norah told me that you're playing Tiny Tim, Riley," Clarice said, turning around in her seat, "Are you excited? That's a lot of lines."

"Yep, I've got a bunch of them memorized," Riley said, "James has been helping me."

James shrugged and gave her ear a tiny pinch. "Because you pester me about it all the time."

Riley just grinned at him. "You don't care! And you're doing it because Al—" James' hand came down over Riley's mouth and he pulled her to him, squishing her.

"That's enough out of you."

"Don't crush her," John said, "But now I'm putting two and two together."

"Ditto," Clarice said with a smirk. She glanced over at Norah. "Is Alison Blaire in the play?"

"Yep," Norah said innocently, "She's the Ghost of Christmas Past."

John and Clarice shared a look, and Clarice laughed. "Wait, when did you officially start liking Ali as more than a friend, James? I mean, I always assumed you loved her but—"

"No one said that," James said, still wrestling with Riley, though now it was pointless. "I'm just hanging out with her and Romeo while they're at practice."

"Oh, is that it?" Clarice said, "Just hanging out. And pining."

"I'm not pining! She's my best friend!"

"I guess we'll call it staring from afar and sometimes sighing," Clarice said, merciless in her teasing, "Would that work?"

"John, I think Clarice wants to walk from here," James said, nudging the back of Clarice's seat.

"It's too cold, I think she should stay in the car," John said, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, "You could just admit your crush, though. She'll might leave you alone after that."

"Might is a strong word," Clarice said, giving James an evil grin. She had always suspected that James was infatuated with his best friend Ali, but it had never been this clear before. Apparently senior year of high school had put some things into perspective for him. "Is she dating someone else? That Romeo guy?"

"No, no way," James said, "He's dating Bobby Drake, so no."

"Is anyone else from their group in the play?" Clarice asked Norah.

"Um, Jubilee and some kid named Ethan," Norah said, "There's a few kids, and then some older people, and a lot of retirees."

"Clarice, drop it, I don't like Ali like that," James said, clearly suffering.

"We're here," John said, pulling into a parking spot.

Clarice turned around in her seat and opened her door. "You're lucky, James."

The community center that also worked as the town's only theater was in the middle of Westchester, and it was covered in white Christmas lights. Old-fashioned black cast iron street lamps lit the path to the front door, and Norah and Riley linked arms as they headed up the brick path. Riley grabbed James' arm and tugged him along with the two of them as they skipped along to the front door, leaving John and Clarice to walk behind them.

She wanted to joke more about James and how she couldn't believe he wasn't already dating Ali, but suddenly it didn't seem right.

"How long are you going to be in town?" she asked John, quieter now that it was just the two of them.

"The rest of the month and a few days into the New Year," he said. He matched her pace as they headed up the path, cutting down his longer stride so that they were in step. "What about you?"

"About the same amount of time." Her breath swirled into the dark winter sky. "It feels like snow."

John took a deep breath and then nodded, letting it go slowly. "Yeah. Are you going to make snow angels?"

That had always been one of her favorite things to do. There were so many memories of flopping back into the snow, laughing and making an angel, then letting John help her up. His arms going around her as he lifted her from the snow, his hands on her hips, pulling her close. Her eyes lingered on his chest, his broad shoulders, anything that kept her from meeting his eyes for that moment. "Probably. Maybe Norah will make them with me."

"Riley's probably going to want to make some kind of snowman."

"Do you remember that snowman massacre we made in Marcos' yard?" Clarice said, laughing at the memory.

John chuckled. "I thought his dad was going to kill us. I still can't believe you brought all that red food coloring."

"So much fake blood."

"The spray bottle was a great idea, though."

Clarice nodded and she was about to say something about how it was his idea to block the car in with a snowman when her boot hit an icy patch on the pathway. Her foot slid, nearly sending her tumbling, but John reached out and grabbed her elbow. He stepped forward and ended up in front of her, holding her up. And so close.

"Are you all right?" he asked, not letting go of her.

"Y-yeah," she said, steadying herself and finding her balance. He still didn't let go, and she didn't mind…

"Are you guys coming or what?" James yelled from the doorway.

That broke whatever was going on between the two of them, and they started up the path, John following right behind Clarice. He was probably ready to catch her again if she fell. That was so him.