This is the end my lovely readers. I will definitely work on new stories in the future, and with that, I hope you will all enjoy reading this last chapter. I kept writing, and I didn't notice how much pages I wrote! I didn't want it to end, I suppose, but everything must end sometime. Thank you ever so much to all the people who supported me with lovely reviews and continued to read my material. Till next time, and see ya!
One year later—Christmas season—Sternbild City.
Amelia Walker's footsteps, breath, and peace of mind halted outside the doorway of her brother's kitchen. "I won't ask for much this Christmas. I don't even wish for snow," she sang with a bounce in her step and entering the kitchen. "I'm just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe~" She sang so terribly that Sophie, who had much to do, stopped working completely. But she had to smile; it's been a while since Amelia had been in such a good mood.
The past year had been hard for her, without Barnaby. But at this nostalgic time of year, conversations turned to the good ol' days and thoughts of past Christmas seasons. "I said it before and I'll say it again, you two must be blessed from above to be born on Christmas Eve."
A familiar aroma wafted into the hallway and alerted the children upstairs, and a stampede of little feet followed soon after, but before they could reach the kitchen Amelia send them away. "I keep baking more cookies but most of them disappear mysteriously," her mother sighed, taking out a new batch of Christmas snacks out the oven. Preparing to apply the icing on the cookies she found that there were two missing already.
Both Amelia and Danny were to blame, and as they chewed down on their stolen treats, they apologized, and for a moment Sophie saw them as the small children they once were. They couldn't help it; just by the smell alone they were attracted, and the treats look so crumbly and delectable, and the ingredients of apple sauce, walnuts, and chocolate chips simply made them irresistible to steal.
Amelia walked into the hallway and put on her scarf, mittens, and winter coat. Her brother zipped it all the way up, and she wrinkled her nose childishly. "I'm not five anymore, Danny." "Getting down to freezing today," he ignored her. "Better dress warm."
Amelia knew he was worried about her. Everyone was. She sighed and glanced up at the clock. "I'd better go."
"Cookies and hot coffee will be waiting. Tell Helen to come around too."
Amelia nodded. "I shouldn't be gone long." She drew her keys from her shoulder bag then glanced at her brother picking up another cookie. "Save some for me, now."
"Only testing." Danny grinned. "Have to make sure they're just right."
Amelia laughed. "You just ate one."
After saying bye, Amelia closed the door and walked to where her car was parked beside her brother's. She shivered but breathed deeply of the welcomed crisp fresh air. On the fifteen-minute drive to the ice rink, noticing that lights already decorated most businesses and many homes, she hummed another Christmas song. She always loved this city, especially at this time of the year, when the air had a bite to it and held the promise of snow.
She left the car with her breath fogged in front of her face. Amelia imagined how nice it would be to stroll along the sidewalk with Barnaby as they looked at all of the holiday window displays. His hand would be warm, or maybe his arm would be around her shoulders. If she tried really hard, she could almost smell his cologne.
She sighed and shook her head to get rid of those silly thoughts, walking along the path towards the skating-ground and spotted Helen who called out to her by name. People swarmed all around, and the large Christmas tree with its thick twigs laden with snow looked as though it grew bigger this year. The twins put on their skates and took off on the ice.
This was like the old days, and Amelia didn't mind. She felt good in the winter time and feeling much like daddy's little girl again. She remembered their old man teaching them how to skate on their birthday. It was the only day he saw them in the same light; there was no mention of her having to keep up with Helen.
She didn't have to be as good as her in everything.
"If you learn to skate well enough, I'll take you here every year," he had said. "Give it everything you got." He put on his own skates and then watched as his two little girls struggled to put theirs on.
"It's too heavy!" Helen pouts, crossing her arms over her chest as she huffed.
"Aha!" Amelia proclaimed happily, lifting her right foot upwards. "I got one strapped on already!" Daddy didn't have the heart to say that it was the wrong shoe on the wrong foot.
"Now I'll show you how to skate," he said. He stood the twins up on the ice. They held each other's hands. They were afraid to move. "See," he said, "like this!" And away he went like a swallow, skimming over the ice. In a minute he was so far away.
Helen and Amelia felt very lonely, and scared, when they saw their father flying along in that way. They weren't used to seeing him do anything but work, and move very slowly while he was at it. "It looks easy," said Amelia. "Let's try it. We can't be afraid."
She started with her right leg, pushing it out a little in front of her. But it was very strange how her legs acted. They didn't seem to belong to her at all. Her left leg tried to follow her right, but instead, it slid out sidewise and knocked against Helen's skates. Then both Helen's feet flew up, and she sat down very hard on the ice. And Amelia came down on top of her.
They tried to get up, but each time they tried, their feet slid away from them. "Are those your feet or mine?" said Amelia. "I can't tell which is which!" "I can't stand up on any of them! We'll just have to wait until dad comes back and picks us up," said Helen, not liking the way people were looking at them and laughing.
When he saw his daughters, he laughed with spirit and skated to them, picked them up, and set them on their feet. "You'll be skating in no time." He took both their hands, and they started off. At first the pair didn't behave well at all. They would sprawl way apart; then they would toe in and run into each other.
Many times they would have fallen if their dad had not held them up; but before it was over, both Helen and Amelia could skate a little bit alone. "I think dad must skate the best of all the people in the world," said Helen. "I'm going to be better someday!" said Amelia. They went back home that day with their cheeks red as roses, and their noses too, and such an appetite for dinner.
"Hey, look at that," Helen gently squeezed her sister's hand, bringing her back to the present. "Doesn't that guy look familiar?"
The sound of merry voices reached her first. There were crack skaters on the ice, showing off their skills, and learners clinging to others with timid, awkward movements. And all at once, amidst all the skaters, she recognized the man cheering his daughter on.
Everything was made bright by him. His pleasant smile shed light all around him. The childishness of his expression made up his special charm, and Amelia felt herself smile at the sight. "When did you get here?" she said, approaching her friend at the sidelines whom she hasn't seen for a long time.
Amelia had to laugh at the look on Kotetsu's face. His mouth fell open at her words, and the blood drained out until he was as white as a sheet. "I? I've not long…yesterday…I mean today…I arrived," answered Kotetsu, in his shock not at once understanding her question. "You look well, Amelia." He offered her a teasing grin, and then he was overcome with confusion. "I didn't know you could skate, and skate so well." He looked at her earnestly. "Hey, maybe you can teach my kid some tricks!"
About to call his daughter close, he saw her skating around in a circle. "Oh, don't worry!" cried Helen. "I'll look after her!"
"I guess she'll teach her," murmured Kotetsu, looking at his daughter performing a nicely executed Biellmann spin, "And Kaede is having plenty of fun without me."
"That's not true," she responded with a fond smile, "It's because you're here that she has so much fun. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about."
Kotetsu became thoughtful, and his face expressed serious hesitation. "How do you figure that out?" Her whole soul was filled with memories of her dad, and there was a smile of triumph and happiness shining in her eyes. "I just know," Amelia answered, and not for one second she averted her eyes away from him as she got off the ice and closer to him.
Kotetsu felt as though the sun was coming near him. He avoided looking at her as at the sun, but seeing her, as one does the sun, without looking. "So why are you back? Not that I'm complaining."
"I miss being a hero." Amelia caught the wisp of longing in Kotetsu's voice and her good mood plummeted. "A hero," Amelia echoed. "Did you at least talk to your former boss about returning?" She asked.
"Not exactly," Kotetsu grumbled. The unfairness of it all was too much for her. They say it's impossible for Wild Tiger—now with only one minute's worth of power total—to get back into the hero business.
Kotetsu watched her as she grumbled something under her breath that he was glad he couldn't understand. "They're all idiots," she murmured.
He smiled, and this smile completely transformed his face. He really was striking. "Lloyds is one of those idiots who want to hire me again, and he makes it pretty damn hard to turn down his offer."
Amelia blinked. "Wild Tiger is back in business?"
"Wild Tiger is back in business," Kotetsu repeated slowly, teasingly.
Her eyebrows rose in a look of surprise, studying him carefully, then her eyes filled with a little envy and a lot of happiness. For an instant she seemed unable to move. Then all at once she sprang forward and threw herself into his arms with enough force to knock him back a step. "I'm so happy for you!"
Kotetsu can't say anything; there's a lump in his throat and his eyes are stinging so he just smiles and lets himself be pulled into Amelia's warm, reassuring embrace. "Drop by my workplace and I'll cook you up something delicious to celebrate! It's the least I can do for you."
He shut his eyes and held on tight, and that wisp of longing returned in his voice, "I'm going to hold you to that."
Barnaby Brooks Jr. felt foolish, and he was not a man who enjoyed feeling foolish. Even in the international airport of Sternbild, he stood out as a man of six feet, filled with regret.
Nervous.
Scared.
Guilty.
People swirled around him, holiday joy in the air. It was December 24, the busiest day at the airport, a parking lot attendant had informed him, as if this was a happy event.
Women wore Christmas corsages, and men struggled with bags and boxes stuffed with brightly wrapped parcels. Little girls were proud and pretty in overly frilly red dresses and leotards, and babies were stuffed into ridiculous green elf suits. The intercom blared out tinny renditions of carols and every transaction with a skycap or a counter girl ended with Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas… There was no escaping it, so Barnaby stood like a rock, grim and unyielding, in the middle of this untidy wave of people filled with optimism and good cheer.
But it wasn't the fact that he hated Christmas that had Barnaby feel foolish. No, he didn't care less about that. When he left Sternbild a year ago with a list of questions about who he was and where he belonged, he had half the answers. He was the definition of a man in conflict—part of him thought he didn't deserve to come back, while the other part really loved the city that is Sternbild.
He did hate to be surrounded by Christmas, but most of all he hated the fact he might be too late when it came to Amelia, and truth be told, he did not particularly blame her for moving on. He spotted a man holding up a cardboard sign, roughly lettered, with Barnaby's name written on it.
"Merry Christmas," Drake Walker greeted him with a tired smile. Abigail was too shy to meet the handsome ex-hero in person and hid away behind her father. Barnaby glanced at him, and whatever was in that glance Drake recognized was not about Christmas cheer.
He had bad thoughts about this. It was his mother's fault he was standing here with the sign, and the next time she asks him to paint the house or rearrange the furniture he was going to disappear for a long time.
His mother's sweetness was at the heart of this problem. When Barnaby had phoned Amelia about his return, Sophie should have hung up. But, oh, no. Not his mother. His mother had offered Barnaby to spend Christmas with the family.
Not that he minds. And not that he wasn't looking forward to Amelia's dumb-struck expression when Barnaby walks through the door. It's Christmas, after all.
"You should tell her," he'd said, firmly.
"Nonsense," his mother had said, equally as firm. "That would spoil the surprise. Besides, the poor boy is all alone. I would have invited him over anyway."
"But what if things go wrong," he'd sputtered. "What if he's the bringer of ill news?"
"Everything will be fine," his mother had said cheerfully, unflinching in the face of his disapproval.
"We'll give him your seat at the table, bro," Danny had snuck in the conversation. His sarcasm was ignored. "You two have to keep this a secret from Amelia. It'll be such a romantic surprise," their mother said dreamily.
"A romantic surprise! Christmas is supposed to be rough—Barnaby will have to fight for his food in this family."
"Drake, don't be so hard. The man was desperate. I could hear it in his voice. I'm sure you would have done the same thing if you had talked to him instead of me." She knew him well. He would have given him another chance...for Amelia.
He'll make Barnaby choke on the turkey if it ends badly for his sister. And so while his mother baked cookies at home, Drake stood at the airport holding the stupid cardboard sign.
"I don't think we've met," Barnaby's smile was effortless. "I-I'm Abigail," the girl introduced herself. Drake thought it looked like he was trying desperately to look like he was happy for her. Underneath the smile, he looked tired and anxious, and he'd spit fire like a dragon if Drake mentioned anything about it.
Christmas dinner with family is exactly what Barnaby needs, he thought.
Amelia parked at the curb and slammed out of the car, eager as her boots crunched on fresh, powdery snow. Helen followed close behind. From inside, Amelia saw the lights from the Christmas tree. Red and blue, green and yellow, festive and glittering out onto the snow.
Gently played Christmas music practically sucked them inside, alluring and lovely. Amelia closed her eyes and breathed deeply of the warm, welcoming scent of Christmas past and present. "Christmas is the best time of the year."
"Here are my girls!" Sophie said, giving her daughters a fierce hug. "Amelia, I need you in the kitchen, right now." Before she could protest, the woman was pulling her along with the strength of a bull.
Helen greeted her brothers and husband, but Connor couldn't take his gaze away from their three-month-old son cradled in his arms. The little boy looked like perfection with a round face, a tiny rosebud mouth, a cute button nose and—when he wasn't sleeping—big blue eyes. Pride shone on his face, but more than that, love.
Helen was completely oblivious of Barnaby's presence in the living room. Unable to help it, Barnaby stared at her, analyzing each feature while the children—mostly the girls—were more than satisfied playing around with his golden hair, giggling at how soft it felt to the touch.
"That's aunt Helen," Jack whispered to him. "You know, just in case you think that's aunt Amelia." Barnaby smiled at that; there was no way he would ever mistake Helen for Amelia. Not in a thousand years. "Thanks for the advice," he ruffled up Jack's hair.
As a hero, his image had been linked to models, actresses and celebrities, but he'd never seen a more beautiful woman than the one he fell in love with. Her waist was trim, her legs slim and that long red hair always got his attention even from across a crowded room. Close-up was even better. Barnaby had realized just how much he missed her, and that he didn't want to be alone with his dark thoughts any longer.
"What is it with you today?" In the kitchen, her mother hugged her once more, a spontaneous action Amelia knew would be repeated time and again. Her mama was a hands-on kind of woman. Sophie smiled. "Nothing, dear."
Amelia tilted her head to the side, curiously, but thought nothing of it. She rolled up her sleeves and looked down at her hands before she starts on dinner. The backs of her hands were dotted with small burn scars from banging her hand on a hot oven too many times. She had a callus along the forefinger of her left hand where she held her knife and one fantastic scar across her palm from a cut.
Customers had complimented her on the food and service before they left the café. She was promised maximum stars, diamonds, happy faces, thumbs-up, however they designate their ratings. She couldn't have pulled it off without her staff and close friends.
"I'm excited to get this done."
"Are you now? Because if you are, I'm so ready to retire and leave you with the kitchen work."
"Semi-retire. I still have a lot to learn, Ma."
Sophie laughed. "Well, not yet. But you know how to cook as well as I do. Better. You're still young!" Amelia was laughing now. "As if age has anything to do with it!"
"Hello, Amelia."
The gently masculine voice was as familiar and warm as ever. Amelia's heart jerked against her rib cage. Barnaby Brooks Jr., the man who'd taken her heart and then left the year before, leaned against the kitchen counter.
Looking out of place amidst the kitchen, he was handsomer than ever. His blonde hair had grown out from the last time she'd seen him, and she detected a faint stubble on his chin and jaw-line. If anything it made him more rugged, more delicious.
Like his mouth. He had the most perfect lips a man could have. She remembered the feel of that mouth, the kisses they'd shared. She licked her own lips, gone bone-dry. "Barnaby?" she managed. "What are you doing here?" She worked hard to suppress her emotions, but the old feelings came rushing back like a tidal wave.
"I just got back from my flight about an hour ago. Your mother invited me over for Christmas," he said. Below a slash of blonde brows, his mint-green eyes were warm and gentle. There was a spark, a teasing glint, and when he smiled, his face lit up like the town square decorated for Christmas.
"I'll leave you two alone," Sophie said with a reassuring smile.
"I haven't seen you for a year," Amelia felt her cheeks grow warm.
"A year and a month to be exact. Fifteen days and about… fourteen hours." He unleashed a slow smile. "If anyone's keeping track." So he had missed her. Surely that was a good sign, wasn't it?
"I suppose my mother and siblings want me to give you another chance."
"They meddle. It's what people who care about each other do. It's only natural. But…" His smile diminished. "What do you think?"
Amelia stared at him for a moment. To him it seemed like an eternity. He took a deep breath, knowing he had to get this right. "I've been miserable these past months, Amelia. I miss you—not as a friend or a shoulder to cry on, or a sister. As a woman. I'm scared to death to even hear those words come out of my mouth, but it's the truth. And I don't know what to do about it."
She flashed him a look worthy of the devil himself and reached out to pull him close. "I think you should get over here and kiss me before I change my mind." She didn't have to ask him twice. A split second later they were in each other's arms.
He lifted his hands to cradle her freckled, laughing face, her red locks whispering over his knuckles as he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. She murmured something into his mouth and kissed him back, and something sweet and warm and fierce surged through him, instantly burning off the years of grief and fear and hopelessness.
She needed to be touched. It felt fundamental somehow—like air and warmth and food. Then she pulled away, frowning, even as she lifted a hand to his face. "Are you really okay with spending Christmas here? I know how you feel about the holidays…"
He lowered his eyes. Took a breath. Pressed her hand to his heart. "I'll survive. What I want is to be with you."
One side of her mouth lifted. "Good," she said, hope shining in her eyes, and Barnaby drew her close, resting his chin on her head. "I'm sorry I acted like an ass." She blew a soft laugh through her nose. "Damn straight." When he laughed, she held him closer. "Tell me about your parents."
Barnaby smiled. "Sadly, I can't remember much," he said softly. "But I knew I grew up in the care of two loving people. They were brave, smart and kind. They wanted me to protect others, which was a very good thing. Then they passed away…" He hugged Amelia again. "And I don't think I'll ever get over it."
"I wish I could have met them." Chuckling, Barnaby cupped her face again, touching noses. "My parents would have loved you, I'm sure of it. Much like I couldn't help but fall in love with you."
She linked her hands around the back of his neck, her lips curved. "You're what I need in my life. I hope we never fight. Okay, maybe sometimes, cause it would be boring otherwise. As long as…you're sure you're ready for this? For us?"
"You have no idea how ready I am." Barnaby smiled. Then he kissed her again, feeling whole and sane and happy again for the first time in forever.