Author's Note: Meant to get this chapter up in time for Christmas, but I was at my parents' house for Christmas, sans internet. So now it's a New Years gift instead. Happy New Year!
She's perched upon the windowsill, watching the snowflakes as they descend one-by-one from the darkened sky above. It's been a quiet night thus far; most of the tenants in her building seem to be out and she can only assume it means they've retreated to the comfort of their families for the holidays.
San Francisco is so far away.
Sarah and the others seem even farther.
She's resigned herself to a night of solitude, of catching up on work and eating whatever canned goods still remain in her cupboards (it's been ages since she's seen the inside of a grocery store, after all). Christmas Eve or not, the world is still turning; DYAD is still the unknown enemy, Helena's whereabouts and wellbeing are still a mystery and she's determined to get to the bottom of things... but it appears her girlfriend has other plans. Delphine's text startles her, the gentle buzzing of her phone on her desk pulling her from her seat at the window. She grabs the device, reading the French woman's message.
"I'm downstairs," it reads. "Let me in."
Her brow furrows in confusion, but the buzzing from her intercom shortly accompanies the warning and she finds herself darting through her apartment, responding to the request and opening the door to her complex with the push of a button.
"What the hell is she thinking?" Cosima mumbles to herself.
She'd already told Delphine that she didn't celebrate Christmas, that she would see her when they returned to work after the holidays. She wanted to use the time off to poke around through DYAD's records and she wasn't so certain that her girlfriend would be willing or comfortable with such a task. When she hears the knocking at her door, she quickly undoes the lock and swings it open.
"Delphine," she says, surprised.
Perhaps she shouldn't be.
"Joyeux Noël, mon amour," the blonde replies with a smile.
She invites herself inside, bags in hand.
She brushes by Cosima, but not before placing a soft kiss upon the clone's cheek. Cosima watches as the European makes her way into the small, barely-kitchen and sets the bags down upon the counter, then removes her coat and slings it over the back of a nearby chair.
"I thought I told you that I didn't do Christmas?" Cosima asks with an arched brow.
"You did," she says, turning her head slightly to the side so that the brunette can hear her as she busies herself unloading the bags. "But I do. And I wasn't about to let you spend Christmas alone."
Cosima folds her arms across her chest.
She isn't sure if she should feel flattered or annoyed by Delphine's intrusion, or if it's really an intrusion at all. One thing she does know, however, is that she's intrigued as she watches her girlfriend get to work. With Delphine's back to her, the shorter girl's view is obstructed, so she's unable to see the contents of the bags.
"What's all that?" she asks, slowly creeping up behind to see for herself.
"Food."
Cosima smiles, then slips her arms around Delphine's waist. She presses her lips to the nape of her lover's neck and Delphine pauses momentarily to smile and revel in the gesture before she fights off the tiny shiver that rolls down her spine and continues with the task at hand.
"You're going to cook for me?" Cosima asks, both excited and impressed.
"It's not as if we can order in. It's Christmas Eve. Everything's closed," Delphine reasons. "The supermarket was still open, though. I assumed you wouldn't have any food here."
A series of fruits, vegetables and other ingredients are pulled from the bag, but Cosima's eyes light up when she sees the pint of ice cream. Of course Delphine knew to bring food. Of course she knew the clone's habits by now. Cosima continues to pepper kisses along the nape of Delphine's neck as her fingers trace the waistline of her jeans.
"Wow," she breathes. "I have a totally hot girlfriend who's also a brilliant scientist and sometimes-chef."
Delphine laughs.
"I'm by no means a chef, but I can at least make something simple for us."
"Better than I can do. I burn toast," Cosima murmurs.
Delphine's smile grows as she remembers the anecdote Cosima had told her one morning when they were in bed together; she'd nearly burned down the last apartment complex she lived in when she had put bread in the toaster, only to become instantly distracted by a program on the television. It wasn't until she could smell the heavy smoke that she suddenly remembered about it and went rushing into the kitchen, trying desperately to subdue the flames. The damage had been minimal, but the entire building had to be evacuated and the fire department had been called.
"In my defense, it was Shark Week."
"A perfectly reasonable excuse."
"Mmhmm."
Her fingers continue to toy with the waistline of Delphine's jeans, an act which is seemingly innocent enough as the clone makes no real attempt to unbutton them or slip inside, simply fulfilling the need to occupy her hands. Despite this, the closeness and contact still has the blonde's stomach flipping. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, mentally reminding herself that she came here with the intention of preparing an actual meal for her girlfriend, not taking her straight to bed with an empty stomach. She doesn't know why Cosima's confession of never experiencing a proper Christmas has impacted her so deeply, but she wants to give her clever lover a real Christmas experience.
That's when she remembers.
"There's something else."
She reaches into one of the bags, retrieving the very last of its contents. When she pulls out a small box wrapped in festive paper and turns around in Cosima's arms, the clone loosens her grip on Delphine's waist and shoots her a questioning glance.
"What's this?" she asks as the doctor places it in her hands.
"A gift," Delphine replies. "For you."
People gave her Christmas presents all the time, despite her insistence against it; Alison, for example, had offered to make her a casserole and when she refused, her suburban counterpart still sent over an expensive bottle of wine with an overly sentimental holiday card.
There's something different about receiving a gift from Delphine, though.
"You didn't have to-"
"I know. I wanted to."
She stares at the box in her hands, then back up to Delphine who now wears a sheepish smile.
Cosima frowns.
"Now I feel like a total asshole. I didn't get you anything."
"It isn't much. Really," Delphine shrugs. "Open it."
Cosima nods.
She's meticulous in her unwrapping of the box, careful to open it at the seams and slowly peel back the tape to avoid actually ripping the paper. She can tell Delphine is growing impatient at how long it's taking her to unveil her present by the way she not-so-subtly chews on her lower lip as her eyes remained fixated on the box in her hands. Perhaps it's foolish to be so methodical; gifts are meant to be torn open and exposed as hastily as possible, but then she's never received a gift from someone who's mattered so much to her and it seems a great injustice to simply ignore the true weight of the box in her hands.
When she finally removes all of the paper and sets it on the counter, she opens the box and reaches inside. When her fingers make contact with the round and smooth surface, without even having to use her eyes, the corners of her mouth upturn into a smile and her heart slams against her ribcage.
You love this woman, it screams.
More than you ever thought possible.
More than you probably should.
"It's..."
She struggles to find the proper words as she removes the familiar orb from its confines and watches intently as artificial flakes engulf the mini Eiffel Tower.
"I know it's stupid, but I wanted you to have it," Delphine explains.
She remembers how fascinated the clone was by it, how her heart had swelled at seeing her lover in such a state of wonder. She didn't think much of the snow globe until that very moment in her apartment when she saw it in Cosima's hands. That's when she realized two things, the first of which being how the world was a radically different place from Cosima's eyes- one full of hope and wonder, love to be shared and lessons to be learned- one she very much loved being a part of, and the second being that she was hopelessly in love with not just the entity standing before her, but the entire ideal encompassing her.
"It's not stupid," Cosima affirms, the break in her voice contradicting her conviction.
She didn't expect to get so emotional over such a simple gesture, but she finds herself absently placing the snow globe on the counter and tugging Delphine's head down until her lips envelop her own.
They instantly melt into one another.
"Thank you," Cosima whispers against her lips, eyes closed and head swimming.
It takes every ounce of strength the blonde possesses to pull herself from Cosima's embrace, much to the brunette's dismay, who releases a tiny whine of protests as her girlfriend diverts her attention.
"Patience, ma cherie," Delphine chimes with a smile. "Let's eat first."
Cosima hovers around her as Delphine continues with the process of preparing their dinner. It doesn't take her long to finish a stir fry, all the while Cosima sets the rather small and inadequate table and lights every candle she can find in her apartment in an attempt to create some sense of ambience.
"You've really never had a proper Christmas?" Delphine presses once more as she sets two plates of food upon the table.
Cosima shakes her head.
"I've been to Christmas parties and stuff, but no. Didn't see a reason to take it up in adulthood," Cosima explains as she opens the bottle of wine that Alison sent her and pours them each a glass.
"Christmas was always so important to my family," Delphine mutters, quietly reflecting on her childhood.
They both sit down at the table.
"What did you guys do?"
The blonde stabs at her food with her fork.
"My parents would throw a large party every Christmas Eve," she answers. "The entire neighbourhood would come- my father's work friends, my grandparents, aunts and uncles. It was quite the affair."
As she recalls the traditions of her childhood, she can see the youthful faces of her parents and the scowl her grandmother always seemed to wear. Then she remembers another face, one closer to hers in age, but with a far more mischievous glint in the eyes.
"I had this childhood friend, Rémy." she adds. "He lived next door to us. He would come, too. We used to hide under the kitchen table and wait until people would set their wine glasses down so we could steal them and try to get drunk."
She smiles at the notion.
"Really? I can't imagine you being so... rebellious," Cosima replies, finding her own smile.
"Well, it wasn't really me," Delphine laughs. "I was always too afraid to get caught. I would mostly just sit under the table with Rémy and keep him company. His father caught him one Christmas Eve when we were eleven. He got beaten in front of all the guests and we never tried it again."
"Brutal," Cosima mumbles, taking a sip of wine.
Delphine nods.
Cosima begins to eagerly shovel food into her mouth, thankful that she opted for allowing Delphine to finish dinner instead of just taking her to bed. She can't remember the last time someone cooked for her and despite how simple the dish is, it's more satisfying than the canned corn in her cupboards. She's so pleased by the domesticity that she doesn't notice Delphine's expression take a much more sombre tone as the doctor stares at the food.
It's been a long time since her old friend has graced one of her conversations, but this time of year always seemed to have that effect. Not only that, but she recognized the mischievous, carefree energy of her childhood confidant in the dreadlocked woman sitting across from her. It's reassuring and yet, somehow upsetting to her.
"Then there was midnight mass," she finally speaks again.
"Wow. Even more brutal."
"Yes. Exactement," she laughs. "I always hated it. My mother would make me wear this horrible dress and braid my hair, which was very curly, so having her run a brush through it and pick and pull it into a braid was quite painful. I used to kick and scream and cry so loud."
"And you call me a brat?" Cosima teases.
"You've never sat through a midnight mass," the blonde counters.
"True."
She hadn't managed to escape the tradition until she had finally left for university in early adulthood. She would always return to her parents' house for Christmas, but she refused to attend the service. She'd cited her love affair with science as the reason, arguing that she was an adult capable of making her own decisions, that the entire idea of religion was ridiculous to her and that she'd abandoned her belief in a higher power long ago, and as much as her mother and father would protest against her apparent "rebellion," they eventually conceded.
"We would go to my uncle's for Christmas dinner, where my father would always drink too much and end up arguing with everyone. Then we would leave abruptly and everyone would go to bed angry," she says. "My mother would yell at him and complain that we were never going to get invited anywhere ever again, but we always did. Every year they invited us and every year we went back, even as the fights became more ridiculous. I think they must have liked it."
"Tell me again why you like Christmas so much?" Cosima asks, crossing her arms.
Between horrible dresses and insufferable church services and bickering parents, she hardly had a good reason to be so fond of the holiday season, but it had become so ingrained into her being that she couldn't separate herself from it.
"I know it seems stupid," she admits. "I thought it was, too. Now that I'm older and so far away from home, it doesn't seem so stupid to me."
Cosima nods.
"I get it. I think."
She thinks about her own ridiculous parents and their own ridiculous traditions and finds herself missing them both, as well. However, her longing subsides when she looks up at the blonde across from her; it's replaced by something else, something unnameable to the clever young woman and a smile stretches across her face.
"Thanks," she speaks. "For... you know."
Delphine smiles back at her.
She's been awake for a little while now, staring out her foggy bedroom window, trying to make out the shapes of flakes through the window's fog and the blur of her vision. It's been snowing for hours, she's certain the entire city is blanketed and virgin white by now. All of the candles have burned down into tiny stubs of wax and she should be cold in her bareness, with the covers tangled around her legs, but with Delphine pressed up against her back, arm drawn over her torso and their hands entangled, she feels nothing but warmth. She presses a kiss to the back of Delphine's hand and the French woman stirs in her sleep.
"Merry Christmas," she whispers, closing her eyes and trying to find sleep again.
They have the whole day to themselves, there's no reason to wake so early or drag herself from bed. She eventually settles into a steady slumber, where she dreams of stars and oceans and waves upon waves of golden curls, accompanied by a familiar smile. When a draft pimples her skin and she wakes again, she isn't sure how much time has passed, but she knows that the coldness is a product of her lover's absence, so she grabs her glasses from the nightstand and slips them on, looking around the room to try and locate the willowy doctor.
"Del?" she calls out, her voice still thick and hazy.
A moment later, the blonde appears in the doorway with a smile. She's wearing a purple robe of Cosima's, tied loosely at the waist, barely containing her long legs or pale, flawless cleavage.
"What'cha doing?" Cosima asks, yawning.
"Making breakfast."
"Really?" Cosima counters with a lopsided grin. "I get dinner and breakfast the next morning? I must be a really good lay."
"Something like that," Delphine chuckles.
Cosima throws her legs over the edge of the bed.
"Don't get up," Delphine says. "I wanted to surprise you. Stay in bed."
"No worries," Cosima replies. "I can't distract you from your domestic duties if I'm sitting in bed like an invalid."
Realizing her plan of a surprise breakfast-in-bed has fallen through, Delphine shrugs and returns to the kitchen with Cosima tailing behind her, still fully nude. Delphine arches a brow.
"Are you going to put clothes on?" she asks.
"Do you want me to?"
Delphine smirks.
"Non, not really."
"Good."
She thinks that the shorter girl must be freezing; it's the dead of winter and the heating in her tiny apartment is't nearly sufficient enough to be walking around naked, but when she pulls Cosima to her, she finds that the clone is surprisingly warm. It's a warmth that she could easily lose herself in, one she'd be more than willing to, but there will be time for that later.
"I'm going to burn breakfast," Delphine protests as Cosima's tongue traces her bottom lip, her lover's hands grabbing at her ass.
"Join the club," Cosima mumbles.
She slips her hand under the flimsy fabric of the robe and slowly begins to hike it up the doctor's smooth leg, settling on Delphine's inner thigh and garnering a whimper.
"Just let me finish breakfast," Delphine whines. "Then you can have your way with me."
Cosima sighs, reluctantly releasing the taller girl.
"Fine," she concedes. "But a deal's a deal. Don't you forget it."
Delphine responds with an eager nod and smile, returning to the stovetop.
"What are you making, anyway?"
"Crepes."
Cosima can't contain her burst of laughter.
"Pardon?"
"Seriously?"
"What's wrong with crepes?"
"Oh, there's nothing wrong with crepes," Cosima replies, emphasizing the word with a mock-French accent. "You're so French it's almost painful."
Delphine pouts as Cosima continues to laugh at her, only stopping when she hears her phone in the other room. She has no idea who would be calling her on Christmas, considering the only probable possibility is standing right in front of her making her crepes.
"Stop making fun of me and answer your phone," Delphine commands, lighting smacking Cosima atop her head with the end of the spatula.
Cosima darts back into her bedroom, grabbing her cell phone and checking the call display. Her eyes widen and she holds the device like a bomb ready to explode at any given second. Instead of answering it, she heads back into the kitchen.
"It's Sarah," she informs Delphine, equally as confused as she is surprised.
Delphine pauses for a moment to consider.
"Answer it."
"I..."
She hesitates, fumbling with the phone in her hand while she wonders if she should heed her girlfriend's instructions. When Delphine rips it out of her grasp and presses the "talk" button, her eyes widen with fear and she instantly begins to panic, mouthing words of protest as Delphine shoves the phone to her ear.
"Cos?"
"Uh. H-Hey, Sarah," she says nervously.
She wishes she had devised a speech.
In her head, when she had played this conversation out, she had a few choice words for her sister. Only now, with Sarah actually on the line, all of those words quickly slipped through her fingers like sand being carried to some distant land by the harsh winds of reality. She thinks that maybe Sarah has something to say, since she is the one who called, after all. After a minute or so of awkward silence, she thinks maybe she's wrong.
"Okay then. Bye."
She's about to hang up when Sarah's voice stops her.
"Wait!"
She sighs, her counterpart successfully reeling her back into the conversation she has no desire to be a part of. She waits again for Sarah, her impatience slowly growing as she's met by more silence.
"I'm sorry I was such a twat before," Sarah finally speaks.
"Really?"
She certainly wasn't expecting an apology.
"I was out of line."
"Gee, you think?" she replies, voice thick with sarcasm.
It's Sarah's turn to sigh.
"I still mean what I said about DYAD and Delphine, though. I still think they're both dangerous."
"I know, Sarah. I know you have your concerns. But I'm being careful, I promise."
"Yeah... I guess," Sarah says, voice shrouded in hesitation.
Cosima inhales deeply.
"I accepted the job at the DYAD."
A beat of silence passes.
"Yeah, I figured as much."
"I'm gonna find out what happened to Helena," Cosima says earnestly. "I'm gonna find out where they're keeping her."
"Okay."
She can tell that Sarah still isn't entirely on board with the idea, but at least the punk is giving her some space to breathe, to assert some sense of agency. Despite the harsh words that had flowed from her mouth in her anger, Cosima knows that Sarah isn't a bad or selfish person. She's always been overprotective and the scientist isn't sure if it's a result of her nature, or her newly revealed motherhood.
"And, uh... Merry Christmas, Cos."
Cosima's mouth upturns into a small smile.
"Merry Christmas, Sarah."
When their conversation comes to an end, the nervousness previously flitting around in her stomach like rabid hummingbirds finally settles and is replaced with a sense of joy and relief, two words rarely associated with Sarah. Delphine seems to notice this shift in demeanor, as well, as she gazes over her shoulder to take in her appearance.
"How is Sarah?" Delphine asks.
She turns the stove off and removes the now-finished crepe from the pan with the spatula, placing on a plate already decorated with strawberries, bananas, and blueberries.
"Fine."
She turns to face Cosima full-on.
"And how are you?"
She knows that Sarah is probably one in a select group of people (herself being another) that's capable of sending Cosima into a spiral of swirling emotions, mostly due to the dreadlocked woman's close proximity to her. Sarah isn't just a friend or a sister, she's a clone; their relationship is unprecedented and it's one that often intrigues to doctor. She wonders just what kind of connection they must feel.
"Fine. We're both fine, I think," Cosima adds with a smile and a nod.
Delphine returns her smile.
"I'm glad you two worked everything out. It's for the best."
"Yeah. Me, too," the brunette agrees. "You're probably right."
Cosima begins to laugh lightly under her breath, piquing the blonde's interest. Delphine cocks her head, waiting for Cosima to explain herself.
"It's a Christmas miracle," she confesses, laughing at the ridiculousness of the notion.
Delphine begins laughing now, too.
"I thought you didn't do Christmas?" she teases.
"I guess I do now, huh?"
"I guess so."