chapter title from "don't dream it's over" by sixpence none the richer.
DISCLAIMER: as usual, { I own nothing }, & any dialogue in italics comes directly from the show & is credited to the writers. :-)
three / counting the steps to the door of your heart
… … …
"We can see who's the worst first date," he'd said.
Yeah, he has a feeling he won that competition, no contest.
And okay, in hindsight, he can see that it was totally presumptuous of him to bring her back to his apartment. He honestly didn't even think about how it would look to her, that he was bringing her back to his 'lair' (he still can't believe she used that word) on their first date. But his primary goal is to get to know her, to spend time just the two of them, and sitting in a generically 'fancy' restaurant across from her felt too impersonal. He didn't want to put on a show for her; he wanted her to have a glimpse of who he is, in a natural environment. He wanted to cook her a nice dinner, open a bottle of wine, and get lost in conversation.
But she had every right to question his motives, because despite how connected he already feels to her, the fact is they hardly know anything about one another. And if her past is anything like he suspects, she's likely been given good reason to question just about everything. He's just thankful that she gave him another shot, because if she hadn't…
Well. He thinks by the way things are going, it'll be a lot easier for him to ask her on a second date now than it would have been an hour ago.
"Your turn."
He rubs his knuckles against his chin absentmindedly, pursing his lips as he contemplates his next move. He can honestly say that he's never played twenty questions on a first date before, but it's proven to be a very informative exercise. "Favorite baseball team?"
She scoffs at him. "Are you kidding?" She smirks. "Mets, all the way."
He closes his eyes and sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. "I guess it's better than the Yankees."
"You're damn right it is," she laughs, her eyes sparkling as she sips her wine. She pulls her legs up onto the couch, adjusting her dress and clearly making herself right at home in a way that makes his cheeks warm and his fingers itch to touch her, just to pull her a little closer. Once she they got past the initial awkwardness of the evening, they've settled into a nice rhythm of conversation. It feels effortless with her, and he doesn't think it's just the wine talking. He likes her like this; relaxed, comfortable, free of obligation. There's no tension, no uneasiness, no awkward silences. Just the two of them, taking it slow, seeing where the conversation takes them.
"Okay, my turn," she says, nestling further into the cushions. "Favorite place in the world."
He hums contemplatively, sipping his wine, but the answer comes relatively easily to him. "Nantucket."
She quirks her brow in question. "At the risk of using up another question: Why?"
He chuckles. "I won't penalize you for that one." He shifts his body, turns to face her just a little bit more, and his knee brushes hers inadvertently. "My parents have the best little house on the water. We used to spend every summer there, and a few long weekends during the school year when we could. My favorite is the springtime, before all the tourists swarm in."
She nods appreciatively, pressing her lips together to hide her smile. "You're pretty surprising, Detective Chase."
He meets her eyes, loves the sparkle of interest he sees there. "As are you, Miss Tait." He clears his throat. "Biggest regret."
He caught her off guard, he can tell, and he'll admit that was his intent. He likes this light-hearted banter they've got going, but she's obviously got some heavy demons in her past - as does he - and he wants to know everything about her. While he doesn't expect a full confessional tonight, or anytime soon, he figures this would be a good place to start.
She meets his eyes briefly, seems to steel herself, takes a generous sip of wine. "My biggest regret," she sighs, fiddling with her near-empty glass as she mulls over her words. "My biggest regret would be not recognizing a toxic situation until it was too late to get out unscathed."
It's like being struck by lightning, hearing those words leave her mouth. When her eyes meet his again, it's like they're staring down into his soul, like she knows all of his deepest secrets and most personal scars. He knows, right then and there, that this is not just a good first date connection - this is a once-in-a-lifetime connection.
Her body feels like a magnet. He wants to lean into it, wants to move his body closer to hers just to be near her, to feel close to someone in a way he hasn't in a very long time. But she finally tears her gaze from his, blinks the fog away and takes a final sip of her wine, setting her empty glass down on the coffee table.
She takes a deep breath, smiles. "Favorite ice cream flavor."
He clears his throat, trying to force his mind back into focus, and chugs the rest of his wine. He sets his glass next to hers emphatically. "Cookies and cream."
Her jaw drops, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Did you just read my mind?"
He chuckles, but her choice of words hits too close to home after the moment they just shared. He meets her eyes, holds her gaze. "It's only fair, after it seems like you just read mine."
She smiles nervously at him, her cheeks tinged pink, and it's nice to know he's not the only one affected by the current of electricity buzzing between them. He decides he needs to leave the night on a lighter note and stands up, grabbing their wine glasses as he goes.
"Last question," he says, circling around the sofa to the bar. "And this is a serious one, so I need you to be straight up with me."
He can't see her, as he's busying himself with closing up the wine bottle, but he hears the shuffle of her standing, dodging furniture, moving toward him. "Shoot," she says calmly, casually. But when he turns to face her, her shoulders are tense, and her eyes are narrowed. She's nervous. (She shouldn't be.)
He takes a deep breath, pauses for dramatic effect. "Would you still call this place my 'lair'?"
He surprises a very sweet, very genuine laugh out of her, and his grin splits his face so wide it makes him chuckle. He's completely captivated by her, and he hopes it's not too obvious, because he'd like to maintain some semblance of cool factor before they've even gone on a second date.
But she's smiling at him, and her eyes are sparkling with amusement like he's already learned they do when she's about to challenge him, and Jesus, she's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. He can't help but step closer to her.
"I suppose that will depend on how the second date goes."
He feels like he hides his surprise well, narrows his eyes playfully. "Second date?"
"You can't think that you've completely redeemed yourself for the way the night started with a little shrimp scampi and a game of twenty questions," she retorts, smirking as she crosses her arms over her chest. "It's gonna take more than that to convince me that you're worth the trouble."
"Trouble," he scoffs. "I am a man of the law."
"Which means that inevitably, trouble will always find you," she quips with a smile.
He takes another tiny step closer to her, just to gauge her reaction, and he's pleasantly surprised when she stands her ground. She tilts her head up to meet his eyes, and he's itching to touch her, to rest a hand on her hip, or even just brush her hand with his own. She swallows subtly, and just as his eyes drift down to her lips, she suddenly steps back and clears her throat.
"It's late," she says absently, moving toward her purse and jacket by the door. She pulls out her phone, illuminates the screen. "No missed calls, but I really need to go get Jaxon from Lulu."
He shakes his head just a little to clear the cobwebs away. He almost forgot, over the course of their evening, that she's a mother. He likes the side of her that he got to see tonight; he feels like maybe this was the first night in a long time that she got to act her age, to be someone other than Miss Tait or Jaxon's mom. He kind of likes that he can pull that side out of her, that he could be the one to give her an outlet that she probably needs, even if just for a night. "Yeah," he says, scratching the back of his head. "Of course. I'll walk you out. Uh, let me know when you get home. Which I'm sure will be over an hour from now, if I know Lulu like I think I do."
Willow laughs. "Got any tips for evasive maneuvers to avoid interrogation?"
He hums, shrugs his shoulders. "Plead the fifth," he suggests with a smirk.
She smiles, laughs again, and then he helps her into her coat and walks her to her car before he can do something stupid like kiss her and tell her he loves her.
(He doesn't. Not yet. But he thinks he could, someday, if she'll let him.)
… … …
She wonders if it was part of his master plan, to make it impossible to take her mind off him.
If it was, he certainly succeeded.
It's been almost a week since their first date, and though they've hardly spoken save for a few texts - his work schedule really is insane these days - she finds that almost any free moment she has, she's thinking about him. When she makes her coffee in the mornings, she absently wonders whether he takes his with cream, or sugar, or both, or neither. When she picks up takeout from Charlie's one afternoon, she wonders if he normally orders the wings or the burger. When she sips her wine after Jaxon's gone to bed, she wonders if he's sipping his own glass, thinking of her, too. She's almost embarrassed by how quickly he's invaded her every thought, but if the frequency of his texts is any indication, she'd say she's probably not alone.
She still can't figure out why she's so drawn to him, why he makes her want to throw away all her resolutions and principles about not getting involved with anyone. Sure, he looks the way he does, but she feels like her physical attraction to him barely scratches the surface of why she suddenly likes him so much.
He makes her feel safe. And it's not just about the fact that he's a cop, or that he's clearly passionate about justice, not to mention a stickler for the rulebook. Despite her minor meltdown over the initial shock of having their first date at his apartment, she never once truly felt like she needed to be wary of him. And the more she talks to him, the more she feels a level of connection she's never known before; the way he looked at her, after she voiced her biggest regret, was like he understood her on a level she never expected to be understood.
It's thrilling, exhilarating, and yes, downright terrifying.
Maybe that's why, despite her clear interest in Chase, she somehow ends up on a date with Michael.
Okay, she's not sure if it actually counts as a date, but considering the way he's flirting with her, she thinks he may have gotten the wrong impression. When she asked him out to lunch after playgroup, it was because she could tell he was feeling low, and she's desperate for a little adult interaction. Lulu's busy with family today, and she knows Chase is working until late tonight, and since Michael got the stamp of approval from Lulu, she doesn't think twice about inviting him to Kelly's for a sandwich.
She's excited about where things are going with Chase, and she's not looking to date anyone else. But considering the way he's been flirting with her since they arrived, she's afraid she may have inadvertently led Michael to believe otherwise.
"So," he begins, adjusting Wiley in his lap. "What brought you to Port Charles?"
She balks momentarily at what feels like a very personal question, until she brings herself back to earth and reminds herself that it's a natural topic to be curious about. "Uh…" she laughs to cover the nerves. "Just… needed a change."
He studies her for a moment, then nods, seeming to accept that he won't get much more out of her than that. "Well, you picked an interesting place," he muses. "Most people end up here because they're looking for a long-lost parent or child or because they have a score to settle with someone."
Yeah, she's beginning to get that impression. "It does seem like everyone here is related, or at least connected somehow. I mean, take you and Lulu, being cousins and in-laws at the same time."
He chuckles. "I still can't believe she never introduced us. Normally she's chomping at the bit to introduce me to anyone she meets who's beautiful and single."
She laughs uneasily. "I, uh… I'm trying to keep a low profile," she says cryptically. "So it was probably my fault, actually."
Michael furrows his brow, clearly concerned. "Is everything okay?"
She waves him off quickly, suddenly desperate to either turn this conversation around or get the hell out of here. This is why she hasn't met very many people since she's been here; there's just too much that she can't explain. "Yeah, yeah, of course. I just don't want to attract any enemies. Seems like it's almost inevitable in this town," she jokes.
He doesn't look like he believes her, but he smiles and chuckles anyway. "Yeah, maybe a low profile is the way to go in Port Charles," he muses. He clears his throat then. "I'm, uh… I'm glad we ended up meeting somehow, though."
She feels a pang of guilt, and she has a feeling he means more than he's saying. "Yeah, it's nice to know someone at the mommy-and-me playgroup," she teases.
"Ha, ha." He rolls his eyes, smiling. "Maybe we should go out sometime, see if we get along as well without the kids as we do with them."
She immediately sees Chase's face in her mind's eye. There's a voice in the back of her mind telling her that she's allowed to go out with whoever she wants; one good date does not a relationship make, and he has no claim or hold over her. She could go out with Michael, spend a little more time with him, if she really wanted to.
The problem is that she doesn't really want to, and she knows that Chase is the reason why.
"Listen, Michael," she sighs, smiling hesitantly. "I think I gave you the wrong idea, asking you here with me today."
He furrows his brow, chuckles nervously. "What do you mean?"
"I've just started seeing someone," she admits, reaching down to rock Jaxon's car seat as he stirs from his nap. "It's pretty new, and it's not like we're in a relationship or anything, but I just… I'm not really looking to date anyone else, so…"
He won't meet her eyes now, clears his throat uncomfortably. Then he shrugs, exhales, smiles. "Someone beat me to it, huh?" he jokes. He breathes out a laugh. "Wow."
She feels her cheeks heat up uncomfortably, and she laughs nervously. "I'm sorry, Michael," she says sincerely. "I didn't mean to…"
"Nah," he protests, holding his hand up to stop her. He smiles, genuinely this time. "There's nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who was reading between lines that weren't there."
He's saying all the right things, and she thinks he probably means them, but his face is a carefully constructed mask of understanding. She wonders, absently, how many times in his life he's truly been turned down. Considering he looks the way he does, and knowing who he is - namely, the heir to the two most prominent families in this city - she would imagine that number is pretty low. She doesn't want to hurt him, but she knows what's in her heart, and she owes it to Chase - and to herself - to give things a chance to play out.
"Well," Michael says finally. "I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of one another anyway, so we might as well be friends, right?"
There's a crooked grin on his lips and a sparkle in his eye that tells her that this isn't over, but in the name of making peace and keeping things simple, she thinks it can't hurt to keep things friendly. At the very least, she'll be able to smile and wave when she sees him out and about, and considering her main priority is to avoid making enemies…
"Sure," she smiles hesitantly. "Friends sounds good."
She feels a sudden urge to apologize, yet again, and then decides she doesn't need to. She's entitled to her feelings, and right now, her feelings are for Chase. She's been searching all week for a sense of clarity, of direction in how she feels, and she supposes in a weird, roundabout way, that's exactly what she got.
… … …
The week since their first date has been a lot like all the weeks before it - hectic and exhausting. Though he's been working practically nonstop, he's made it a priority to text Willow whenever he has a free moment, just to make sure she knows he's still interested. Despite how well their date went, and though she pretty much already promised him a second date, he still gets the feeling she's not one hundred percent sure about anything at this point. So he's somewhat surprised, in the best way possible, when she calls him Sunday morning to ask him out to breakfast. He's excited to continue to spend time with her, in pretty much any capacity, and it's kind of nice to know that she feels similarly enough to ask him out, instead.
He was really looking forward to sleeping in today before going in for his afternoon shift at the PD. He thinks it's pretty telling that one call from her has him jumping out of bed like he slept ten hours instead of four.
"I'm glad you called," he says with a smile as he sips his coffee. He typically gets his coffee at Kelly's, just because it's more convenient on his way to the station, but he's starting to think he needs to stop by Charlie's more often. If there's one thing Julian Jerome knows how to do, it's make a damn good cup of coffee. He sets his mug down, looks up to meet her eyes. "I wanted to call you this week, but…"
"You don't have to explain anything," she interrupts, leaning her elbows on the table toward him. She smiles. "I know you must have been working crazy hours this week, trying to catch whoever's terrorizing the city. Have you been sleeping at all?"
He wonders if he looks tired, rubs his knuckles against the scruff on his chin that hasn't been trimmed in days. "Enough," he hedges.
She narrows her eyes. "If I may be frank, you look like the only reason you got out of bed this morning was…"
"To see you?" he smiles, thoroughly enjoying the way her cheeks flush and she bites her lip. "You're not wrong. I got home from the station around four this morning and fell straight into bed."
She reaches across the table and swats at his forearm where it's resting on the tabletop. "Chase!" she scolds, and he chuckles in surprise. "You should have slept in. Don't you have to work this afternoon?"
He bites his lip, fighting a smile. He loves little moments like this, when she gives him a little glimpse into a side of her he's never seen before. He's never really had someone other than his parents to genuinely care for his wellbeing, and he has to admit that it's kind of nice. "And miss out on my chance to atone for my first date missteps?" he smirks.
She rolls her eyes, a smile attempting to fight through her scowl. "We could have gone out another time," she says seriously.
In a moment of boldness, he reaches across the table to catch her hand, holds it firmly in his. "Honestly, after the way things started, I'm grateful for any time you let me spend with you."
She levels her gaze at him again, and this time he can't help but smile. "Buttering me up is not going to make me forget that I'm upset with you. I admire your hard work, Detective, but if you don't take care of yourself, how are you supposed to take care of the good people of Port Charles?"
"Don't worry, mom," he teases, running his thumb over her knuckles. "I'll make sure to get plenty of sleep when this is all over." He sits back in his chair, taking the opportunity to switch the focus off himself. "Speaking of, how's Jaxon doing?"
She sighs, laces her fingers with his absently. "He's okay. He's teething, so he hasn't been sleeping much this week either, which means that I'm not sleeping much by association." A sweet little grin graces her lips. "But I'm taking advantage of the extra snuggle time before he starts crawling and wants nothing to do with me anymore."
"Oh, please," Chase scoffs, using his free hand to sip his coffee. "A mother-son relationship is too special to be separated by anything, including a harmless developmental milestone."
"You say it's harmless now." She narrows her eyes playfully. "Until I have to baby-proof not just my apartment, but probably Lulu's house, too, and something tells me your help would be enlisted in that endeavor."
"I'd be happy to help," he grins sincerely.
She sits back in her chair, fiddling with the handle on her coffee mug, biting back a sweet smile. It's his favorite smile of hers, and one that he's always surprised he can pull out of her. "So you and your mom… are you close, then?"
His smile is almost reflexive. "Yeah, we've always been pretty close. It's hard, now that my folks live in California, but I call her at least once a week, make sure she and my dad are doing okay."
"Must be nice, though, to have both of them to lean on," she muses. He's beginning to wonder if she's doing this on purpose; making cryptic comments just to keep him on his toes. She pulls her sleeves up over her hands to ward off the December chill, which pulls her hand away from his, and he misses the contact when it's gone.
"Yeah." He thanks the waiter as his omelet is placed in front of him. "Christmas is my mom's favorite time of year. We used to have all kinds of traditions, starting on December first and going all the way through New Year's Day." He can't help but smile, remembering coming home from school to the smell of gingerbread in the oven and Christmas carols on the stereo. It's not the same, he thinks wistfully, celebrating the holidays without his mom around.
"I've always been fascinated by Christmas traditions," she admits, taking a bite of one of her pancakes.
"Did you have any, growing up?" he wonders.
Her eyes cloud over, just a little bit, before she composes herself and the fog disappears. Not for the first time, he wishes she would open up to him, just a little bit more than she already does. "We never really celebrated Christmas," she admits. "My childhood was a little bit… unconventional."
He decides if she's going to give him little glimpses, he might as well ask for the whole picture. "How's that?"
She shrugs, not meeting his eyes as she picks around her plate with her fork. "My mom and I, we were always moving around, trying to find a place to settle down, somewhere to belong. We never stayed in one place for very long, so there was never really an opportunity to establish traditions of any kind."
He takes a bite of his omelet, studies her for a moment. She'll hardly meet his eyes, and he doesn't like it. "Sounds kind of lonely," he murmurs.
She smiles, but it looks a little bit forced this time. "It's nice to finally feel like I've found somewhere that could be home," she continues.
Could be. He feels a little pang of sadness, that she's been running for so long she doesn't know what home feels like anymore. He clears his throat. "And your mom?" He cuts into his omelet. "Has she found somewhere that could be home?"
Now she really won't meet his eyes, and he wonders if he's struck a nerve, inadvertently. "I guess she did," Willow says, and he detects a whole lot of bitterness and maybe a trace of sadness in her tone. "We, uh… we don't keep in touch."
Yeah, he definitely struck a nerve. She's beginning to shut down, and their conversation has suddenly turned very heavy, and he feels a pull in his chest to find a way to make her smile again.
"Well, just so you know," he says, leaning across the table conspiratorially, "I happen to have a secret talent for picking out the perfect Christmas tree for just about anyone."
"Is that so?" she laughs, an amused twinkle in her eye.
"Oh, yeah," he smirks. "You know, every kid deserves a magical first Christmas. Even if he won't remember it. I'd be happy to be your personal Christmas coach, for you and Jaxon, if you'd like."
There's a real, genuine smile on her cheeks as she reaches across the table to take his hand in hers. "That actually sounds perfect."
She clearly has a lot of ghosts in her past, a lot of pain that follows her. He also thinks she's never had many people in her life she can really trust. He wants to prove to her that he can be that person for her, that she can open up to him; that he can handle the burden of whatever she's faced in her past that has brought her to this point. But he won't push her. He'll let her open up to him on her own time, when she's comfortable, and when she's ready to talk, he'll be ready to listen.
"Okay, then," he smiles, signaling the waiter for the check. "How about this. Let's go pick up Jaxon and I'll put my Christmas tree talents to the test. What do you say?"
There's that sweet smile again. "Jaxon's first Christmas tradition," she murmurs. "I would love to."
He knows the holidays can be lonely, especially without family around. He hopes he can make hers just a little bit less so, the same way she's done for him.
… … …
By the time Christmas Eve rolls around, she's so exhausted that there's part of her that doesn't mind spending the holiday virtually alone. Between the leadup to Christmas Break at school and the fact that Jaxon has been overly fussy and clingy, she feels like she's hardly slept at all and had almost no time to relax in the last couple of weeks. She feels badly that she has to turn down Chase's invitation to spend Christmas Eve at his brother's place, but Jaxon has been so fussy all day and she's just gotten him to sleep. She can't pass up the opportunity to curl up on the sofa with a glass of wine and wallow, just a little bit.
She doesn't let herself do it very often. Between work and Jaxon and now, apparently, spending time with Chase, she doesn't have much free time to think about anything, let alone to dwell on the way things used to be, on what could have been. It's easier, most days, to just power through, focus on doing what she can in the present to provide for her son, and sometimes daydream about their future. But every once in a while, she just needs a moment to grieve.
Most of the time, it's easy to convince herself that she's better off without her mother. There are things that were done, things that were said, that she's not sure she'll ever be able to forgive, let alone forget. It sucks, though, to be without the one person who is supposed to look out for you, to be there for you no matter what. Hearing Chase talk about his mom the other day triggered a pang of loneliness that she hasn't felt in a while, and it opened up some old wounds, ones she's beginning to think might never truly heal.
Lulu invited her to spend Christmas with her and the kids at Laura's house, but Willow is beginning to feel like she constantly intrudes on their family time, and she decided to give them a chance to enjoy one another's company without she and Jaxon butting in. And honestly, she's struggling to see the point in making a big deal out of it. Though she bought him a few gifts and he certainly enjoys the way their Christmas tree lights sparkle (courtesy of Chase, of course), it's hard to truly enjoy a holiday she's never really celebrated with a baby who won't remember any of it anyway. She just needs to remind herself that while, yes, it kind of sucks to spend Christmas alone, she still has people around her who care, who are there for her and for Jaxon in ways she will be forever grateful for.
As if on cue, there's a knock at her door. She furrows her brow in confusion, wondering who could be stopping by so late on Christmas Eve. She sets her glass of wine on the coffee table and stands from her perch on the sofa, pulling a robe over her shoulders to ward off the late December chill, and pulls the door open.
"Hi." She blinks in surprise.
"Hi," Chase smiles sheepishly. "Merry Christmas."
"Uh… yeah, you too." She's suddenly very aware that she's wearing what might be her rattiest pair of flannel pajamas, that her hair hasn't been washed in at least three days, that her face is devoid of any makeup whatsoever. She was not at all prepared for anyone's company, let alone a visit from a guy she's very, very interested in.
"Sorry to just show up like this," he laughs nervously.
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry, please, come in." She waves him inside and out of the cold, shutting the door behind him and subtly trying to smooth her hair. "I just poured a glass of wine, if you want one."
He shakes his head. "No, that's okay, I can't stay long." He nods toward the now-decorated tree, smiling. "It looks great."
"All thanks to your tree selection expertise, Detective," she smiles back, taking her seat on the sofa and sipping her wine to calm her nerves. He's been over before, just a couple of times, but this feels different, for some reason, and it makes her a little uneasy.
It's then that she notices a wrapped box in his hand, and as if reading her mind, he moves toward the sofa and takes a seat next to her. "I, uh… I brought you something."
Her heart jumps in her chest, and she swallows thickly. "You… you got me a Christmas present?"
He shrugs his shoulders, a sweet grin on his cheeks that makes her stomach flutter. He takes a seat next to her, turns his body toward her. "I just saw it while I was out picking up a gift for Finn and Anna, and I thought of you, and…" he sighs, shakes his head. "Yeah, I guess I did."
Everything inside her softens. "Chase," she murmurs.
"I wanted to get Jaxon something, too, but I figure he has plenty of toys, and this could be for the both of you," he rambles as she pulls the ribbon off the box, tears carefully into the paper.
She finds herself fighting back tears as she opens a beautiful, leather-bound photo album. My First Year is printed on the front in beautiful script, and she swallows back a wave of emotion. "Chase," she breathes out. "This is beautiful."
"I know that you're worried about making sure Jaxon has a good life," he says quietly. "And I know that the best way to give him a good life is to make memories, and to capture them, so he'll always know that even when things were hard, you did the best you could to make him happy."
She's not sure how he picked up on all of that, especially since she tries her best to keep most of their conversations light, tries to keep as much of the darkness at bay as possible. But he's clearly paying attention, and she kind of loves that he's willing to look past the façade she portrays, and instead of avoiding the cracks, he looks through them to see her. All of her.
A tear slips down her cheek, and she feels his hand ghost over her face, push her hair behind her ear tenderly. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he chuckles.
She chokes out a watery laugh, looking up at him in awe. "I didn't get you anything," she admits.
He shakes his head. "I didn't expect you to."
"But Chase, this is…" She takes a deep, shaky breath. "This is so thoughtful of you. I… thank you so much."
He shrugs sheepishly. "I just want you to know that even if you don't have your real family here with you, that doesn't mean you don't have people here who care about you."
It's exactly what she was thinking to herself earlier, but it's so nice to hear it from someone else. She leans forward on impulse, resting her forehead against his, and their eyes meet briefly. She's been so cautious over the last year or so, and she feels like it's about time she stopped thinking so much and just jumped, for once.
She leans forward and presses her lips to his, and his hand cups her cheek, pulling her in just a little bit closer. Her hand falls to his shoulder, and she smiles into the kiss, giggles when she feels him smile in return.
He finally leans back just a fraction, and she opens her eyes to find that his are still closed, like he's savoring the moment. He finally opens them again, skims his thumb across the tear tracks on her cheek. "I should go," he sighs, leaning forward to kiss her forehead sweetly. He takes her hand and pulls her up from the sofa, and she follows him to the door.
"Thank you again," she says quietly. Her hand falls to his hip almost absentmindedly, and he responds by sweeping her hair off her shoulder, his thumb brushing the side of her neck. "Really, you have no idea how much this means to me."
"I'm glad you like it," he says sincerely. He smiles, and she watches as he physically resists the urge to lean in and kiss her again. Part of her is glad, because she needs a few minutes to compose herself, and part of her is disappointed, because kissing him might be one of her new favorite things to do. "Merry Christmas, Willow."
"Merry Christmas, Chase," she smiles, holding the door as he lets himself out.
She leans against the door after she's locked it behind him and she feels like she's fifteen again, biting her lip to keep from smiling too big. She's been kissed before, but she's never been kissed like that. She's never felt it from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, never felt that invisible pull to just be near someone. She can practically feel the way he cares for her in the way his fingers brush over her skin, and it's exhilarating and a little bit terrifying all at the same time. She can very confidently say that she's never felt about anyone the way she feels about Chase.
The more she gets to know him, the more she realizes he's the exact opposite of everything she's ever known, and if there's one thing she's grateful for, it's just that.
… … …
He's always been one of those annoying people who really, genuinely loves New Year's Eve. It's like hitting the reset button; an opportunity to reflect on the past year, to look forward with hope to the year ahead, to decide what things he'll do differently. He almost never remembers any of his resolutions, which means he rarely follows through with them, but he appreciates the sentiment in the moment. In the past, he's spent the holiday with his parents, or with friends, or even working. This year, he's sitting on the sofa next to a beautiful woman while she rocks her five-month-old to sleep.
He can't say this is how he would've pictured his New Year's Eve, but he really, truly wouldn't have it any other way.
Of course, he asked Willow to be his date to the annual New Year's Eve fundraiser at the Metro Court. He would've loved to have her on his arm, to happily fade into her shadow as she lit up the room in whatever gorgeous dress he's sure she would've worn, to drink a glass of champagne with her and watch her eyes light up as she laughed and just let go. She deserves a night off, he told her, and he wanted to give it to her. And he wasn't surprised at all when she declined, said she wanted to spend Jaxon's first New Year's Eve with him, even knowing that he probably wouldn't be awake, let alone have any concept of the significance. He could tell, though, that he surprised her when he volunteered to stay home and enjoy it with the two of them.
"I would've thought you would want to spend your one night off doing something other than cleaning up spit-up," she'd laughed.
Clearly, she still has no clue that he would take pretty much any opportunity to spend time with her.
They'd initially planned to spend the evening together at her apartment, but Lulu practically scoffed in their faces and insisted that they spend it with her and the kids at her place. She'd invited practically half the kids in Port Charles to spend the evening with Charlotte and Rocco, including Elizabeth Webber's boys, as well as Maxie and baby James, and she insisted that having two more adults around would help keep her sane. Chase is pretty sure she just doesn't want to spend the evening alone, and honestly, he can't really blame her.
Besides, he muses, his lips stretching into a smirk. Between the current glow stick sword fight mayhem and watching Charlotte kick just about everyone's butt in Mario Kart (including his own - twice), he's laughed more tonight than he has in a while, and he needed it.
"I'm impressed," Maxie says, her lips pursed teasingly as she plops herself down beside he and Willow on the sofa. Her glass of champagne sloshes onto his arm, just a drop, and he's amused by how she doesn't even seem to notice. The gleam in her eye says she's probably at least a few glasses deep already. "James would never even think about falling asleep with all this screaming going on, and yet Jaxon has no problem at all."
Willow laughs beside him, and his gaze drifts down to her son, who's eyes are drooping tiredly as he sucks on his pacifier. She bounces him a little and glances at Maxie. "I think the best advice someone ever gave me was to make as much noise as possible while they sleep, so they get used to it. He could sleep through a nuclear explosion, I think."
"I've never thought of it that way," Chase says thoughtfully, "but you know, that actually makes a lot of sense."
"Clearly, I've been reading the wrong parenting magazines," Maxie jokes, taking another swig from her glass. A large swig, actually, and Chase stifles a chuckle, his eyes wide as she all but slams her empty glass down on the coffee table. "If you'll excuse me," she giggles. "I think I need a glass of water if I'm going to make it to midnight."
She stumbles toward the kitchen and almost runs right into Lulu, who scolds her friend teasingly and calls for the kids to gather around the dining room table for fondue. Chase feels Willow's shoulders shake in laughter and turns to face her, his gaze fixated on the smile on her lips. His eyes drift down to Jaxon. "He's out cold," he comments, lifting his arm around her shoulders and turning his body toward her just a little bit. "Want to go put him down, maybe go get some fondue before the kids eat it all?"
She smiles up at him, shakes her head. "I just kind of want to hold him," she admits. She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and he narrows his eyes at her playfully. "But I do want some fondue," she says innocently.
Chase chuckles. "That's not fair," he murmurs. "You can't look at me like that and expect me to say no."
She grins widely. "That's kind of what I was hoping for," she teases.
Which is how he finds himself piling a plate high with chocolate-dipped pretzels, strawberries, marshmallows - but not pineapple, because she hates it, he's learned - and avoiding Lulu's giddy stare.
"You're smitten," she says accusingly, grinning widely as she speaks lowly next to him. "I know you love kids, but spending your New Year's Eve here with us instead of at the Metro Court… you are truly smitten, my friend."
He shrugs sheepishly. He doesn't really have an argument, and there's no point in denying it when he's sure it's written all over his face. And Lulu's always been able to read him annoyingly well, anyway. "She's incredible," he says simply.
"Yes, she is," Lulu agrees excitedly. "And if I'm not mistaken, I think she's smitten with you, too."
He sighs, turns to smirk at her. "Lulu," he warns playfully.
She waves him off, adjusts the alignment of a bowl on the table, and when she looks back up at him, her smile is sincere. "I'm just happy for you," she says. "You're such a great guy, Chase, and you've been so good to me and my kids. You deserve to have someone like Willow in your life." She narrows her eyes teasingly at him. "So don't screw it up, Detective."
He chuckles. "I am actively trying not to screw it up," he assures her. She pats him on the back as he turns to make his way back to the sofa, where Willow still sits with Jaxon in her arms.
As the clock approaches midnight, the kids gather around the television to watch the ball drop, eyes wide, high on apple cider and chocolate fondue. A decidedly less drunk Maxie rejoins them after checking on baby James in the guest room, and Lulu provides the four of them with glasses of champagne to ring in the New Year. Charlotte turns out the lights, and Chase chuckles as the kids all cheer, waving their glowsticks in the air wildly and nudging each other excitedly as the countdown ticks down.
"I say we should all go around and say what we wish for in 2019," Lulu suggests, sitting between Maxie and Chase as she sips her champagne.
"Leave it to Lulu to try to make everything sentimental," Maxie jokes, rolling her eyes playfully.
Lulu scowls at her friend. "Just for that, you get to be the one to start."
Maxie rolls her eyes. "My wish for 2019 is that James will sleep through the night."
Lulu's clearly not satisfied with that answer, but she waves her off and instead turns to face Chase. "My wish for 2019 is that Dante will come home to us, safe, and Chase will get his partner back." Her eyes cloud over wistfully, but before she lets the emotion take over, she fixes her eyes on Chase, smiling mischievously. "Your turn, Detective."
His eyes immediately dart to Willow, before quickly moving back to Lulu. Obviously, she caught him, and her eyes widen ever so slightly, her grin threatening to split her face in half. He can't help but smile back at her excitement. He clears his throat, hoping Willow didn't witness the whole exchange, and sips his champagne, contemplating. "Happiness," he decides. "In my work, in my relationships…" He meets Willow's eyes this time, enjoying the way her cheeks flush ever so slightly. "In everything, I guess."
Lulu nods, her eyes shining. "And you, Willow?" She sips her champagne, looking over the rim of her glass at her friend.
Willow meets Maxie's eyes, then Lulu's, then Chase's, then looks down at Jaxon, snoozing sweetly in her arms. She looks up at them again, his favorite little smile on her lips. He runs his fingertips across her shoulder from where his arm rests across the back of the couch. "This," she says quietly. "More of this. That's what I want in 2019."
She meets his eyes, then, and the kids are counting down from ten, and Jaxon's making little noises in his sleep, and the ball is dropping on the TV in front of them. And yet, he couldn't care less, because there's something in her eyes in this moment; something that tells him that 2019 is going to be a special year for both of them, together. He's so lost in her that he doesn't even notice when Lulu recruits Maxie to help usher the kids off to bed, leaving the three of them alone in the living room. (Sometimes it's okay when she meddles.)
He moves his arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer, rests his forehead against hers, then leans forward to close the gap between them. It's just a slow, sweet kiss to ring in the New Year and all the promise it brings for them, and with Jaxon sleeping between them, it feels like the perfect symbolism for everything he wants 2019 to be.
… … …
