A/N: Thanks to all for the lovely reviews - I really enjoy your comments and questions.

I wish I could reply in person to guest reviewers. However, given that I cannot … to the person who asked about the "December 31 for tax purposes," I confess that didn't even cross my mind. However, filing paperwork still means a wait, and so much depends on the judge's schedule, whether or not things were completed accurately, etc. So I'm going with "you can't possibly time it perfectly." I hope that suits. :)

This update was posted on Tumblr at Christmastime but wasn't put on this website; therefore, if you've already read it, then you'll know it's based upon the Dan Fogelberg song "Same Old Lang Syne." I'll toss it on Spotify. I did change a few bits of this chapter to fit better into the main fic, so please do consider a reread if you're up for it.

Thanks again! xxx

CSotA

Saturday, 24 December

Elsie scanned the grocery shelf, unimpressed.

No Walkers? What the actual-

"Elsie?"

She jumped, knocking her purse off the top of the shopping cart and spilling it all over the floor.

"Fuck," she muttered.

Charles's eyes widened with surprise, but he couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his lips as he bent down to help her gather her things.

"Always did have a bag full of nonsense," he couldn't help teasing, and she reached out to smack him.

"Shut up, you. We can't all have our shit together all the time."

She dumped a lipstick, change purse, and several receipts into the satchel and then held it open for him to replace the pen, eyeliner, and notepad that he'd retrieved from under the grocery store shelf.

"Thank you," she mumbled, embarrassed. "What brings you here on Christmas Eve?"

"Only place open, isn't it?" he reasoned.

"There's the Chinese restaurant in town."

He stared at her until she giggled, the annoyance on his face turning to amusement at her mirth.

"I realized an hour ago that I'd been looking forward to tomorrow so much I'd completely forgotten to obtain some form of sustenance for tonight. No suitable restaurants open besides the one at the hotel." He shrugged.

"Well, I hope you have better luck than I have," she told him, waving her hand at the cart. "But I agree; I am rather tired of the hotel's restaurant."

He peered inside the carriage: rotisserie chicken, rolls, plastic utensils, and paper plates.

"A veritable feast," he chuckled. "But you've no wine."

"They don't sell it here," she told him, pushing away from the sadly-stocked biscuit aisle and toward the register. Then, after a moment's consideration and a flutter of her heart, she added, "You'd be welcome to join me in this feast if you'd like."

"Aren't you popping in on the party later?"

She shook her head. "Oh, no. I love Robert and Cora, but another party where I have to schmooze potential donors for this project is not my idea of a fun-filled holiday."

Charles just shook his head. "Nor mine, really. I can't believe they talked them all into being here."

Elsie looked sharply at him. "Actually, that was me who got them to commit. They're here with their families, all expenses paid. Hell of a way to spend Christmas, and hopefully it'll pay off in the end."

"It looks promising, then?"

Elsie nodded. "Yes, I think so. One has already coughed up a sizeable investment. I just don't feel like working on Christmas Eve."

"Understandable."

She paid for her things and he carried the bags out to the car and loaded them in, then glanced at the taxi he had waiting by the curb.

"I need to head back in and find something," he said. "And let that poor man get home before the snow starts up."

"Oh, just send him home and join me," Elsie sighed, half-smiling at him from over the roof of her rental. "We can park the car and dig into this chicken. It'll be like old times."

He hesitated. "I don't know."

Elsie rolled her eyes. "Come on; it's Christmas. Let's find some alcohol and toast your new house."

Charles gave in; he headed over and paid the taxi driver, putting in an extra tip for the holiday.

"It's not my new house yet," he clarified when he returned, shifting the passenger's seat back to accommodate his tall frame. "I've only looked at it."

"For the second time," she reminded him. "And you obviously like it," she reasoned. "Are you afraid that Alice won't like it?"

Charles drummed his fingers on his knee as he looked out the window, watching the newly-falling snowflakes melt as they hit the window.

"Who knows what she likes anymore?" he muttered.

Elsie didn't know what to say, and so she opted for nothing at all. She put the car in gear and drove to the liquor store two blocks away.

oOoOoOoOo

"This is unconscionable," Charles said quietly, and Elsie laughed as she reached into the cooler for a six-pack of beer.

"Vail's a snooty town, and it's Christmas Eve! Of course they're sold out of any wine you'd drink." She held up the beer and smirked. "For old times' sake?"

He read the label and chuckled, shaking his head. "Why not?"

He insisted on paying for it, and Elsie grabbed a bottle opener and added it to their order.

"Don't have one in the car anymore," she told him, and he laughed as he remembered.

"Well, it's not that car, is it?"

"No," she quipped as he pocketed his change. "This one's back seat is much smaller."

The cashier saw Charles blush faintly and she chuckled, shaking her head as she dropped the beer into a brown bag.

"Merry Christmas, you two," she said.

"And to you," Charles replied. "Thank you."

They got in the car and drove off - fairly aimlessly, until Charles had a suggestion.

"All right," Elsie answered quietly. "As long as you know how to get there."

Fifteen minutes later, she parked the car just off the side of the road at a dead-end. The view was remarkable: the city below them, the lights twinkling in the snowfall, multi-colored and vibrant from the holiday but small and seemingly so far away.

"It's like another world up here," Elsie whispered. "How did you know about it?"

"I've been here before," Charles answered. "Once. With Robert. Stag party. Well, the party wasn't here," he clarified, "but here in Vail. The party was at a club."

You're blabbering, he admonished himself. Stop!

Elsie raised an eyebrow. "He got married in London, but he had his stag party in Colorado?"

"You say that as though it surprises you," he replied. "I'm shocked you didn't know."

"So am I! How has this never come up?"

"Well," Charles said, "you knew Cora's family was from here, didn't you?"

"Yes, just not that they hosted Robert's big bash."

"Harold's idea," Charles clarified.

"Of course," she nodded. "I'd forgotten he was the best man."

Charles cocked his head, remembering. "You weren't at the wedding."

"No, I wasn't able to go," she said quietly.

Charles stretched and reached behind Elsie's seat, his chest pressed remarkably close to where she was seated; a whiff of his cologne was all she needed to be instantly transported back ...

Not the time, Elsie!

Charles dragged the bag up and deposited it in his lap.

"This is going to be a ridiculous mess," he said, feeling a change of subject was in order.

Elsie surprised him by taking the bag from his hands and stepping out of the car. Using the hood as a table, she made quick work of the chicken and rolls, managing two sandwiches in record time. She popped open the trunk and deposited the container (containing the rest of the chicken) and the leftover rolls in there so as to somewhat cut down on the car smelling strongly of rosemary and garlic.

"Here you are," she breathed as she hopped back into the car and handed Charles a plate.

"That was fast - and clever," he acknowledged. "Look at you, preparing dinner."

"Well, not much has changed in that regard," she answered, smiling as he popped open the first two bottles of beer. "I didn't cook the meal, after all, but I have become rather adept at preparing things from pre-made items."

"I see. Well, cheers." He held his bottle out to her and clinked the necks together.

"Cheers."

She took a healthy swig, pondering her next words.

"So," she said after a few moments, "tell me what you've been up to the past few decades, Charlie."

His head shot up, a peculiar look in his eyes as he stared at her.

"No one's called me that in years," he murmured.

"Well," Elsie said, preparing to tuck into the remainder of her sandwich, "more's the pity."

oOoOoOo

They covered a lot of ground over dinner. Elsie explained how it was she ended up married to a farmer ("He was in school for architecture, of all things, when his Da died suddenly and we inherited the farm."), and Charles gave a couple of details of when he and Alice had met.

"I never would have imagined you with an actress," she admitted. "But you've clearly done well for yourself."

"Well," he admitted, "the publicity and all that, the audiences when we'd have a premiere or red-carpet event … those things were nice, I suppose. I couldn't have been an actor, though, could never have managed that. That miserable year on the stage was enough for me. But being able to attend all of those things without the pressure of being on camera? That's been lovely."

"So you've enjoyed it? That's wonderful. And now you seem to have cut back a bit - an agent with exactly one client."

She smiled at him, but he knew she wasn't teasing, knew she was truly interested - even if he did represent Mary.

"Exactly. But the traveling is hell, really. I don't like being across the Atlantic ten or twelve times in six months, particularly when it's London to Hollywood and not New York. No, that's not my cup of tea."

He hesitated, finishing his beer; up until now, he'd not spoken about this aloud, except the one time with Robert. But he knew Elsie wasn't one to divulge a secret.

"I've been thinking of retiring, actually."

"Have you? Oh, I could never!"

"Haven't you ever considered what your life might be like in retirement?" he asked, but she shook her head.

"Not at all," she said. "Not yet, anyhow. I'm still young!"

He laughed, and they segued into conversation about the past … memories of times they'd shared, of school and internships, of time spent with the Crawleys and the holiday when Elsie had accompanied him to their house because she'd been snowed in and unable to fly home.

"Do you remember the end-of-term party your senior year?" Elsie asked, tears of laughter streaming down her face. She reached up to wipe them as he was nodding.

"How could I forget? I've never seen anyone as ill as you were that night."

"I've never heard anyone sing quite as loudly and off-key as you did that night!"

"I think this beer has addled your brain," he deadpanned. "We weren't that bad!"

"Nice try! Ohh no. I remember that bit all too well! You and Robert, up on stage at the club, belting out some Beatles song or other as loudly as you could!"

"Well, I believe I was talked into doing it by a certain red-haired beauty," he said without thinking, and they fell instantly silent.

Elsie watched him, saw the way he blushed furiously and then looked down at his hands, tugging uncomfortably at his coat, and she found it all quite endearing.

"Oh, Charlie," she said softly, shaking her head slowly. "You always were a charmer."

He picked at a thread on his cuff. "Evidently not quite charming enough, though, eh?"

"Well," she said, swallowing down a bit of discomfort as she stared out the window, "it was a long time ago. Another lifetime, really."

He waited until she looked up at him, and the way the faint light from the dashboard caught her eyes made them sparkle. He smiled again.

"Your eyes are still so blue," he murmured, his gaze roaming her features: a few more lines and wrinkles, but the same sparkle in her eyes, the same redness to her lips, the softness to her cheeks. "The years have been a friend to you, Elsie."

"And to you," she replied honestly.

"Ah," he argued gently, "not so much. Turning grey, tux a bit more snug than it used to be."

"I don't know," she mused, glancing him up and down. "I think it suits you."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Older and fatter suits me?"

But her smile instantly shut down any other protest he might have had; in the blink of an eye, she was the honest, caring, friendly Elsie he'd loved when they were students.

"No," she almost cooed. "Distinguished. Comfortable." And before she could stop herself, she reached out and fingered the greying curl that had fallen above his eye. "And it does suit you, Charlie. I think you're the same now as you were then … from what I can tell, in the ways that matter, you really haven't changed."

She withdrew her fingers much too soon for his liking, and he sighed softly.

"What is it?"

Where did we go wrong? he thought, but he couldn't make himself ask. He was still married, and she didn't deserve to be led head-first into a mess … she didn't need that, however thrilling it felt to be back in her good graces and working by her side.

However much he loved her … even now.

"Nothing," he replied out loud.

Elsie licked her lips, and he watched as her tongue disappeared again, playing over what Charles knew was likely a raw spot on the inside from biting down on it so much.

Some things never do change … but some do.

"We should be getting back, I suppose," Elsie ventured. She glanced at the gasoline gauge, surprised at how little it had moved given that they'd been sitting for almost two hours in a running vehicle in order to keep warm.

Charles cleared his throat. "We should. The rest of this week will be late nights, indeed, with everything you and Cora have planned."

"I know." Elsie reached for her seat belt, buckling it and waiting for Charles to do the same before she pulled out of her parking spot and back onto the road. "And having begged off of tonight, I think we'll be stuck there for the long haul."

"True."

They made their way down the road, Elsie concentrating on his spoken directions until they were back to an area she recognized.

"Will Alice be able to join us at all?" she ventured.

"No," he said after a moment's silence. "She couldn't get a flight out by the time she'd sorted her schedule."

"I'm sorry," Elsie said, mostly honest. "It must be sad to spend the holiday apart, although I suppose in our business you're used to it. I can count on one hand the Christmases I actually spent in Scotland when I was married."

"Yeah."

She glanced over at him, wishing that the comfortable, familiar Charles she'd just spent the last two hours with would reemerge out of this buttoned-up man who now sat beside her.

But he just stared out the window, watching as the snow turned into rain, and they didn't say another word until she dropped him off at his flat.

So ... progress, sort of? Would love to know what you think. :) xxx