All in the Faculty

Chapter 21: (All I want for) Christmas (is you)

"It's the most! wonderful time of the year…!"

The same music every year. The same red and white tinsel, the same bearded old guy, the same plastic nativity scenes. Alex had never really felt comfortable in malls – the unrestrained consumerism and obnoxious advertising were already enough cause for a headache – but jam-jacked with strangers walking in every direction, it became a whole other ballpark. Alex twisted his body and stumbled to avoid a little Chinese girl who seemed to pop out of nowhere. Malls were too hot, too loud and chaotic, too unpredictable, like being trapped in a pit of snakes. Suddenly the crowd in front of him parted, and a massive twin stroller came barreling towards him. Alex threw himself out of the way just in time to save his toes, crashing into Tom in the process. Tom grabbed Alex's shirt in his hand and roughly shoved him back, sending him look of exasperation.

"Would you stop?"

"That stroller almost took me out!"

"It was hardly even moving, just like the rest of us!" Tom was right – it was like being stuck in rush-hour traffic, only with people. Instead of bumper-to-bumper, they were toe-to-heel, shuffling forward at the pace of a sloth on a sunny day. "Don't be so melodramatic!"

"You told me we were going to get bubble tea…"

"And we will. I just want to do a little Christmas shopping first. Shouldn't you be looking for something for… I donno… Sabina?"

"We don't do gifts," Alex replied, curling his fingers into the fabric of Tom's jumper. Tom grabbed his hand and tossed it aside.

"Stop it!"

"Just let me do it!"

"Are you five years old?"

"You're the one that dragged me here, dammit!"

"There'll be much mistletoeing! And hearts will be glowing! When loved ones are near…"

One long look at Alex's anxious face was enough to convince Tom that he wasn't trying to be funny. Taking pity on his friend, he pulled Alex out of the fray and into a boutique. Winter clothes lined the walls in variations of plaid, wool, and faux fur. Alex followed behind Tom like an overworked mule as Tom browsed the selection, occasionally asking the customer service agents for their input. He lingered on a plum scarf, thick and feathery-soft, asking Alex the same repetitive questions over and over with each new item he inspected.

"Do you think she'd like it?"

"Yes."

"Do you think she'd wear it?"

"Yes."

"What if she already has one this colour?"

"She can return it."

"But I don't want to get her something she's going to want to return…"

"…"

"How about these gloves? D'you think she already owns leather gloves?"

Tom waited until Alex looked like a kettle ready to boil over before finally making a decision. He walked out of the store 45 minutes later with a pair of fuzzy brown slipper-booties tucked away in a wrapped box, and only after many reassurances from the blessedly-patient cashier that Alison would like them. As they slipped back into the crowd, Alex made one last desperate attempt to improve his situation by closing his eyes and humming to himself.

"… Oooooooohmmm…"

"What are you doing? Oi. Are you meditating?"

"Ohmmm…."

"Speed up, would you?" Tom smacked him in the arm, but when that failed to rouse him, he rolled his eyes and placed both hands on Alex's back, sinking his weight into it. Alex staggered forward and somehow managed to deftly slip between the people before him. Catching on to the hidden opportunity, Tom sped up and used Alex as a human shield as he wove his way through the oncoming traffic. When they finally made it through the doors and out into the winter air, Alex's eyes flung open. He opened up his arms and swayed, taking in the open space with an expression of rapture.

"Freedom!" he cried. A departing family looked uncomfortable as they sped up to pass him.

"Jeez…" said Tom, retrieving a beanie from his back pocket and tugging it over his ruffled black hair. "It's like you've never been in a mall at Christmastime before."

A thin layer of half-frozen mud coated the concrete beneath their steps, squelching and crunching at the same time. Alex untied his hoodie from around his waist and slid his arms through the sleeves, responding briskly,

"It's just been a while – thankfully. I can't believe people actually submit themselves to that once a year."

"Mother's Day isn't much fun, either," Tom responded without thinking. He bit his tongue as soon as it was out of his mouth. "Er… sorry. I didn't mean …"

"Oh, I remember Mother's Day," said Alex, not missing a beat. "I used to call it 'Keeper's Day. Granted, I still never did my shopping in malls, even for Jack. She hates malls, too. Sort of un-American, isn't it?"

The two trudged across the parking lot with their hands stuffed deep into their pockets. The people around them were loading boxes and bags into their cars by the truckload; some with children, some alone. Almost everyone seemed to be in high spirits. As they climbed into Tom's car, Tom thought to further his secret agenda by asking lightly,

"No gift for Jane?"

Alex shot him a sidelong glance and yanked the passenger door shut. "Why would I buy Jane a gift?"

"Well, don't you like her?"

"I–" Alex paused to give it a moment's thought. "I didn't really think about it."

Which was true – he hadn't. Even with Jack in residence, gift-giving had never been a huge tradition for Alex growing up. It was more of a sporadic thing. When Alex was 16, Jack started condemning the hyper-consumerist culture that pervaded the holiday season, claiming the only thing that mattered was that they were together. But the following Christmas saw Alex away on a mission abroad, and the year after that came Jack's decision to start spending Christmas in America with her aging parents and other relatives.

Alex turned down her every invitation to join out of fear of jeopardizing her family's safety. If he was being really honest, Alex considered 13 years old to have been his last real Christmas, with both Ian and Jack in attendance. They'd felt like a real family that evening. Jack had sewn stockings out of felt for the three of them, and stuffed a chocolate orange and a lump of coal into each. Ian had even made a couple jokes at the dinner table. (About Jack's cooking, if memory served correct.)

"Maybe you should… I mean, I think you've got a real chance with her."

Alex's eyebrows were knit, expressing doubt. "Chance for what?"

"For… you know. A date, or something. You invited her to the wedding, didn't you? I thought you were trying to get with her."

"Get with her," Alex repeated. "As in, sleep with her?"

"Am I wrong?"

Alex glanced out the window at the passing city lights. He couldn't exactly give Tom a full synopsis of his and Jane's history. After all, he barely had any memory of their night together. On top of that, Alex had promised not to tell.

Ah, screw it. Best mate override. "We've already done that."

"… W-what? Wait, what the hell? When? And you didn't tell me?!"

"It was a long time ago. We spent a night together in Amsterdam."

"How can you only be telling me this now?"

Alex shrugged. "She didn't want it to get out, so I promised I wouldn't talk about it. Anyway… I don't know, Tom. I don't think it's a good idea. She's helping me with Bridget's case… I wouldn't want to screw that up."

Tom's eyes lingered on Alex's face for a little too long, and when they returned to the road he had to slam on the breaks to avoid running a red light. Both their bodies snapped forward with the momentum, the steering wheel colliding hard with Tom's ribs. Tom released a weak cough.

"Watch the road, would you?" Alex snapped. Tom rubbed his chest.

"Sorry…" he said. "But, just… so what you're saying is… you and Jane have a history?"

"Yes. No. Uh… not really. I can't actually remember much of anything from that night…"

Tom's own words were echoing in his head: "She and you have a history. That kind of thing is difficult to forget." This changes everything, he thought. "So, wait. What was Jane doing in Amsterdam?"

"Good question, mate. Red light district."

"Wh… seriously? And – you sleep with prostitutes?!"

"No, no… it wasn't like that. I didn't know she was a prostitute when I met her."

"Oh… so did she charge you?"

"I can't remember."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying! I don't remember the second half of that night, let alone what happened in the morning. By midday I'd switched hotels and gone back to bed. I can't even really recall us saying goodbye…"

Tom looked faintly worried. "Wow. Is that – I mean, was that… normal for you, back then?"

Alex's response was flat. "No. I'm pretty sure I was drugged. I've been trying to be more careful since then."

Tom reached up to massage his forehead as he digested the influx of new information. "I can't believe you and Jane already knew each other. What kind of crazy coincidence is it that she'd end up here, of all places? How in the world did she even get this job?" The cogs were turning in Tom's head. If Jane was working as a prostitute only a year ago, then was there even a legal route out there for her to have gotten a full-time teaching job at a comprehensive school in Chelsea by now? And if not… what did that mean? "Aren't you kind of… suspicious?"

Alex's lips upturned into a smile, and Tom took the next stoplight as another opportunity to examine his friend's expression. There was something there that Tom couldn't quite pinpoint. A level of fascination; intrigue. An unspoken, ongoing challenge.

"A little. There's a lot that we don't know about her, that's for sure. As to whether or not she poses a threat… my instincts tell me no. She's not at Brookland to cause trouble. If anything… she's running from something."

Tom pulled up in front of Alex's apartment, pushing the gearshift into park. Alex's hand landed on the door handle. Tom stopped him before he hand the chance to open it. "Wait."

Alex turned to peer at him. Tom cleared his throat. "You know… you should really consider coming over for dinner on Christmas. I know you already said no, but Alison will be there, and she likes you – and so does Jerry, and nobody blames you for what happened at the wedding…"

Which, Tom knew, didn't matter, since Alex blamed himself for the incident. Alex sent him an easy smile. "Thanks, Tom. I really appreciate the offer, but I'm still going to pass. Get home safe, alright?"

Tom waited until Alex had stepped out of the door and disappeared inside his apartment building to pull out into the street again. Alex certainly didn't seem sad, even two days away from Christmas. He'd hated the mall, but that was more the result of crowds, wasn't it? Maybe Tom just had to accept that Alex had grown used to being alone during the holidays. Well, he thought, there's always Netflix.

As Tom made his way back to his modest home, Alex unlocked the door to his flat and stepped into the darkness. He flicked on a single light above the kitchen bar and wandered over to the fridge, pulling it open. Slim pickings. The only real food left was the end pieces of a loaf of bread. Giving up, Alex moved into the living room. It looked like something straight out of a Modern interior design catalogue, completely devoid of personal effects. The only things that belonged to him were a few books on the bookshelf and a laptop sitting on the dining room table. At the far end of the room was a pair of French doors which opened out onto a small balcony. Alex pushed open the doors and rested his forearms on the wrought-iron railing, watching the streets below.

Lately his world had felt so small. Alex hadn't been home for Christmas in years, and even when he had, family was not usually at the forefront of his mind – work was. He thought about Bridget and her workaholic parents, and sent a desperate plea into the cosmos that they would take the evening off to spend it with her. It was of some consolation to him that Liam would be with Olivia and her family, which included the reliable and relatively-stable Aunt Syd, and Tom would be with his brother and girlfriend, who he was supposedly on better terms with after concluding that his imagination was playing tricks on him.

So that left Alex.

0o0o0o

Alex spent the first half of the next day working up the courage to call Sabina. Even if she was in New York with her parents, he wanted at the very least to wish her a merry christmas on Christmas Eve. In the morning he sat at the kitchen table with a copy of The Guardian laid out before him and a mug of black coffee in hand, drumming his fingers absently. His eyes rolled over the same words again and again as he tried to mentally prepare a script: Hi, Sabina. How are your parents? Is it snowing in New York? Do you miss me? Can I see you when you're back?

For years Alex had been content to keep his Sabina's relationship strictly professional. During that span of time he did his best to fill the gap by spending nights with strangers; getting to know someone as well as he possibly could in just the few hours he had with them before saying goodbye. At first it was fun – exciting, even. Eventually, Alex started getting tired. Tired of constantly playing games. Tired of having no one to talk with on the phone. Tired of lying to himself about his lifestyle. Tired of saying goodbye all the time. With Sabina already placing her life on the line for her work, there was less of a risk of getting involved with her than anyone else. And sometimes… it really did seem like she genuinely liked him. Sometimes.

Around 8 p.m., Alex forced himself to make the call. She answered on the seventh ring.

"Alex?"

"Sabina. Hi."

"Hi."

The slight puzzlement in her voice had the effect of momentarily scattering his thoughts. She sounded surprised. Maybe I shouldn't have called. An awkward delay prompted him to blurt out,

"Merry Christmas."

"Ah… same to you. Are you okay?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. I didn't expect your call."

"Sorry." Why did I think this was a good idea? "I was just thinking about you, I suppose. How are Ed and Liz? It's been a long time since I saw them."

"They're fine. Mum's caught a cold. It's snowing here."

"Oh, is it?"

Small talk – why was it only ever small talk when they talked about anything other than work? He didn't know what he was trying to do… all he'd really wanted was to hear her voice.

She didn't respond, so he said, "I haven't spent Christmas in London for years."

"That must be strange."

Alex wandered over to the balcony and slipped out into the winter air, where his breath was instantly visible. The cold was refreshing – even though the hairs on the backs of his arms were standing up, it wasn't unpleasant. "Yeah," he replied. "It is. I'm not really sure what to do with myself."

"Have you been keeping busy?"

She was talking about work. He tried not to sigh. "Yes. It's the waiting game right now, I'm afraid. But, um, Sabina… can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Do you ever… find yourself…" Alex struggled to find the right words. As a result, the sentence was painfully drawn out. "Feeling… unfulfilled?"

"Unfulfilled?" she echoed blankly. "What do you mean?"

"Just… like something's missing."

She was quiet for a moment, presumably thinking. Alex chewed his bottom lip. The cold was starting to get to him now, so he used his free arm to hug himself.

"Alex," she finally said, and as usual, his name on her tongue caused a shiver to travel down his spine. "You're a world-renowned MI6 operative. You've saved more lives than you could ever possibly count, and you're not even 25. You've got a huge career behind you, and an even bigger one ahead of you. What on earth could you be missing?"

You, he wanted to say. You're missing. "It's not that. It's… something else." Should he just come right out and say it? All this beating around the bush was driving him insane. He took a deep breath, preparing to put himself out there….

"Whatever it is, I'm sure you'll figure it out. You're the smartest man I know. I've got to go now – try to enjoy yourself this evening, alright?"

And just like that, the conversation was over. Alex stared ahead at the brick building across from him, where a little black chimney was pushing smoke out into the night. The tips of his fingers were numb. After the call ended, Alex spent a minute looking down at the phone in his hand, replaying their conversation over and over in his head. Soon it began to lightly snow.

When he was back inside, Alex grabbed his coat up off the couch and pitched the phone into the cushions, slamming the front door behind him.

0o0o0o

"I don't want a lot for Christmas, there's just one thing that I need…"

"… Alex?"

Eyes wide, Alex turned to meet his accuser. Standing in the dairy aisle of the grocery store on Christmas Eve, there was something undeniably suspicious about him. Maybe it was the messy hair. He hadn't touched it since rolling out of bed that morning. Or maybe it was the long black winter coat – on an evening when almost everyone was making an effort to wear red, white, green or gold, Alex looked ready for a funeral. Perhaps most incriminating was his choice of groceries.

"You're buying a whole pie? And – is that a block of cheddar cheese?"

Alex narrowed his eyes at her. Jane crossed her arms over her chest. She was wearing a dark green parka and a Santa's hat.

"You look like a christmas tree," he shot back.

"At least I don't look like Ebenezer Scrooge."

"Bah humbug!"

Jane stepped closer for a better look at the pile of items balanced precariously against Alex's chest. When she spotted the turkey TV dinner, her teasing smile fell. "Didn't go home for the holidays, huh?"

"This is home."

"Oh… but you're eating alone? Where's Tom?"

"With his family."

"And you?"

Alex shifted the groceries in his arms. "It's exactly what it looks like," he deadpanned. "Why're you here? The dairy aisle is a pretty strange place to find a gorgeous woman on Christmas Eve…"

Jane reached up to pull a miniature carton of eggnog out of the refrigerator, giving it a little shake. There was an awkward pause as they both realized how pathetic they looked. Alex reluctantly placed the block of cheddar back where he found it. "So that's your plan for the evening? Eggnog?"

"Got a better one?" she challenged. Jane looked like she'd just gotten out of the shower. There wasn't an ounce of make-up on her face, and her long red-brown hair was still a little damp. Alex's mind began to wander when he made the connection. Freshly showered… Jane in the shower… Jane naked…

"Uh…" Alex tried to banish the thoughts, but he could already feel the heat rising to his face. "… what was the question?"

She frowned. "Are you drunk?"

"No…" Usually only Sabina could procure such boyish reactions from him. Apparently all Jane had to do was show up with wet hair. Even the stark lighting of the grocery store couldn't make her look bad. On either side of them, the aisle was empty. Wait a minute… "Are you by yourself?"

Jane made a point of glancing around. "It does look that way, doesn't it?"

Alex massaged the bridge of his nose as though quelling a headache, but he couldn't hide the smile her sarcasm brought forth. Without entertaining any high hopes, Alex decided asking couldn't hurt. He was already miserable. What more did he have to lose?

"You know… the lighting in here is the worst. Fancy a walk?"

Jane's good humour instantly vanished, along with the colour in her face. She couldn't have looked less thrilled by the idea. "Um… well, I've actually got to…"

As she stumbled over her words, Alex's gaze reluctantly slid down to the floor. You're trying too hard. His eyes shut in a single, long blink before snapping up to meet hers once more, reflexively forcing a smile. "Say no more," he said. "See you in the New Year, Jane."

Alex didn't wait around to catch the flash of guilt that passed over her face.

"Oh, I don't want a lot for Christmas, this is all I'm asking for…"

As he neared the check out, he ditched his groceries in a sale bin and made a break for the exit. Outside, the snow showed no early signs of stopping. The blaring of Christmas music slowly faded away as he drew farther away from the doors. Alex wracked his brain for a plan to get his mind off things, but the idea of drinking alone held even less appeal than that turkey TV dinner. His fingers were curling and uncurling in his coat pockets, itching to be given a purpose. Now he remembered why he hated vacations.

Halfway down the block, Alex thought he heard someone calling his name. It took a second time for him to turn around, winter boots sliding through the slush on the pavement. Jane was standing outside the automatic doors of the supermarket, illuminated on one side by its unnatural glow. She started walking towards him. Alex remained motionless. The snow was gathering on his shoulders and in his hair, gleaming beneath the streetlights. His first thought was that he must have dropped something. Then he thought maybe she was going to chew him out for not putting his items back where they belonged. As she drew closer, Alex tried to read her serious expression. She wasn't smiling. Her sumptuous mouth was set into a straight line. It was a no-nonsense look. Am I in trouble?

"Alex," she breathed once she was in front of him. Her green eyes were smouldering. Alex felt the yearning hit with the full force of a baseball bat. It wasn't just the fact that he was sexually frustrated, or that she was strikingly beautiful. Her hands were empty. She'd followed him down the street. It was the first sensation of warmth he'd felt all night. He gazed down at her with half-lidded eyes and baited breath.

"Sorry…" she mumbled, focusing on a passing car to escape his scrutiny. "I didn't mean to brush you off…"

"No need to apologize," he responded, taken aback.

"It's just–" She lapsed into silence, chewing her lip. "I don't normally… do anything on Christmas. I've always just stayed in watching Christmas specials. I'm not used to it, I suppose – doing anything, I mean."

She was actually flustered. It was the last thing Alex had expected from her. Questions flooded his mind – where was she from? Didn't she have family to visit? Friends, at the very least? What kind of person did absolutely nothing on Christmas Eve? Evidently, someone like him. That connection only made him more curious. If she was anything like him – which he was beginning to think she was – then she had even more to hide than he thought. Nevertheless, he buried the feeling. She hadn't chased him down the street so he could interrogate her with personal questions. He was lucky to still be talking to her.

"Me neither," he confessed. Her wide green eyes seemed unusually bright beneath the dark, overcast sky. "But I also don't normally run into anyone I know at the grocery store on Christmas Eve, so… what do you say? I've always wanted to check out Hyde Park around this time of year. There's supposed to be all sorts of–"

"Yeah," she responded without waiting for him to finish. "Let's do it."

As they crossed the street to reach Alex's car, Jane asked, "Were you really going to eat that whole pie by yourself?"

"You really don't know me at all, do you?"

0o0o0o

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! And have a Happy New Year!

… It's July, you say? Ah, I see…

So I'm finishing this chapter in the nick of time as I'm leaving to a music festival tonight and then a family reunion right after, and I knew I wouldn't have time to work on it for a while if I didn't get it out today… so here it is! (Mur… I should definitely be working right now.) Please alert me of any typos you come across!

Anyway, uou guys got me all pumped to write with your feedback, so thanks for that! I really appreciate everyone who left on a note on the last chapter. T'was an emotional one, so here's a bit of comic relief pending some of the… stuff I have planned for the future. Mwahahaha!

Let me know what you thought and what your predictions are for the "new year"! Some of them may come true! :O

Next chapter: "Do I know you?"