Title: Trick or Treat
By: Kameka
Rating: G
Status: Completed, Series
Notes: This is the second in a 'Moments Frozen in Time,' a series of scenes/stories following the possibility of romance between Zoe and Dan, as well as their lives. While each scene/story is self-contained, I suggest that you read them in order.
Spoilers: "Spooked"
Summary: (MFT # 2, sequel to "Hidden Reaction") - Zoe and Dan bond when Dan goes to the Halloween party that Hannah had invited him to.
* * *
Dan stared up at the house he stood in front of, losing his balance slightly as costumed youngsters crashed into him. They raced off without a word, their flustered minders hastily offering apologies as they rushed after them. He shook his head, taking in the chaos of the house-lined street. Kids on a sugar rush, frantic parents chasing them to and fro, walking with the smaller trick-or-treaters and waiting on the sidewalks as they ran up to the houses to get their expected treats. Older kids, not so old to have lost the magic of the night, or just wanting the free candy, were also costumed and wandering around with their friends, too cool to be watched over by adults. More than one was no doubt carrying the necessary items to manage the normal Halloween pranks: egging or toilet papering a house, putting shaving cream on the windshield of a car, and countless other possible pranks.
It was, in short, nothing less than controlled chaos, if there was any such thing in the universe. The lights were ablaze in the home that he was about to enter and music was already drifting his way in the brisk October air. He winced, thinking of the quiet he could bask in at his own apartment, before straightening his shoulders. He'd come here not only because he'd been invited but also because it was an opportunity he didn't want to miss. This was his chance to enter Zoe's private life, a glimpse of her at home with her family. He knew that she cared about them, could tell by the way she spoke of them and to them, her voice filled with both love and exasperation, tinged with a slight trace of fear that she wasn't doing the right thing, wasn't what they needed. But he'd never been invited to be a part of it before, to see her in action.
Then there was the matter of what they had shared earlier that afternoon. Almost shared. Had they really almost kissed? It was the stuff dreams were made of, his dreams. The whole thing had taken on a surreal quality: the feel of her against him was branded into his skin and he had felt bereft with loss since they had parted. It would seem much more real to them if they had kissed, he had long since decided. Instead he was tantalized with the memory of her wide vulnerable eyes and warm breath tinged with the scent of coffee and mints, his fingers could still feel the softness of her skin where he had touched her.
All traces of that Zoe had been erased by the time he had returned with the police officers, explaining who he and his partner were, giving them the number to the office for their information to be verified. He had even begun to explain what had happened, who the attacker was and why. When he'd stepped back into the room, his eyes automatically looking for his partner even as he relaxed slightly at the form still on the ground, he'd found the boldly confidant woman he worked beside every day. Smiling, her voice ringing with the same zest for life that it always did, she'd answered all of the officers' questions. It was the same when they had finally made it back to the office and told the same story to Sophia Mason, their once-partner and now boss.
He'd stepped out of the room to one personality and walked into a completely different one. The switch was mind-boggling.
And so here he was, standing on a sidewalk surrounded by laughing, screaming youngsters having the time of their lives, instead of at home sipping wine and reading a good book as he'd planned. He was about to enter the world of partying teenagers, one that he'd left behind when he'd left his past. All to see if he could catch a glimpse of the woman he'd seen earlier that day. To see if what he'd thought almost happened really had.
Another child, this one dressed as a monster of some sort, ran into him as it barreled from the house he stood in front of. Shaking his head and bringing himself back to the present instead of lost in his thoughts, he started to the house, the music volume growing steadily as he ventured closer. He knocked on the door with the knuckles of one hand, stepping back slightly when it opened to reveal Hannah still dressed as Harriet Tubman, her face smeared in places with chocolate that had obviously come from the almost completely empty bowl she held clutched to her chest.
"Mr. Lennox!"
"Trick-or-treat," he said with a smile towards the little girl.
"You came!"
"I couldn't turn down an invitation made by such a beautiful young lady, could I?"
She giggled and reached out to grab his hand, pulling him into the chaos of the house as she passed the last candy bar in the bowl to him. "Aunt Zoe's in the kitchen, Mr. Lennox."
"Why don't you make that 'Dan,' Hannah? I'm pretty sure your Aunt Zoe won't mind."
She considered it for a minute before shrugging. "Okay, Mr. Dan."
He shook his head, wondering if that was an improvement or not. He finally decided that as long as Hannah was happy, it worked just fine for him. As he dragged him through the house, he took in the scene passing him by. The stereo was set up in one corner, CDs covering the small table placed beside it. The television was turned on, showing horror movies for anyone who wanted to watch, and bowls of snacks were situated around the room. Hannah took him on a circular route, checking the contents of the scattered bowls and picking up the ones that were low. He automatically took them from her, balancing them as best he could with one hand, the hat that had been in it now perched atop his head and the bottle of wine in the crook of his elbow.
"Aunt Zoe, Mr. Dan is here!" Hannah called as she led him into the kitchen.
"Hi, Mr. Dan," Zoe mimicked as she accepted the precariously balanced bowls with a grin and performed a twirl on the skates she wore. She gracefully made her way to the counter and dumped more food into them, lining them up on the counter for her pint-size sergeant-in-charge-of-food to redistribute around the living room. "No costume?"
He sheepishly touched the brim of the somewhat battered looking white cowboy hat. "Dan Lennox, slightly tarnished White Knight at your service, milady," he answered with a grin as he accepted the cup of punch Zoe handed to him.
"Aunt Zoe," Hannah interrupted, holding up the bowl she had refused to let go of, "I need more candy for the trick-or-treaters."
"Again?" she asked melodramatically, twirling around the little girl. "Are you sure you're giving the candy to the trick-or-treaters and not keeping it for yourself, Ms. Tubman?"
Hannah nodded energetically, hurrying over to Dan and picking up the mini candy bar he had placed on the counter. "See? He said 'trick-or-treat' and got a treat!"
Dan nodded, taking the little girl's side momentarily. "I can't verify that she gave out the rest, but she certainly did her duty by me."
Zoe laughed and refilled the bowl from one of many bags of candy left. "There you are, Ms. Tubman."
"Thanks, Aunt Zoe!" She put the bowl down and grabbed two of the others and raced out to the living room to replace them.
"Ugh, can you believe that Julian dared to show up as Angel?" Taylor asked as she ventured into the kitchen from the party. "Hi, Mr. Lennox," she ventured belatedly, seeing him standing by the counter.
Dan took in the girl's costume of a short black skirt, blue top, blonde wig, and a wooden stake in one hand. "Hi, Taylor. Dan's fine." The teenager nodded. "Um, what's wrong with Julian dressing up as an angel?"
Taylor stared at him in open-mouthed shock. "Not a angel," she finally explained. "Angel."
He raised an eyebrow and looked towards Zoe for an explanation he might understand. "Angel's a vampire, Dan."
"Oh, and," he gestured towards the blonde wig-clad teenager.
"I'm Buffy," she told him. "You know, the vampire slayer."
Dan chuckled and shook his head. "Of course, who else would you be?"
Zoe finally took pity on him, explaining the problem. "Julian's dating Taylor's best friend but he dressed as Angel. Angel and Buffy are soul mates."
"A vampire and the vampire slayer are soul mates?"
"Yep," Zoe agreed with a grin. "Angel's a vampire with a soul. They have a whole star-crossed lovers, modern Romeo and Juliet thing going on."
"And if they have sex, Angel goes evil again and kills and tortures people," Taylor added helpfully. When he still looked confused, she sighed.
"Hey, Taylor, you're going to have to be in charge of the food, okay? We're going to be heading downstairs. Call if you need anything," she stressed the final sentence, knowing that if something bad happened the kids would try to take care of it themselves, something she didn't want.
"'Kay. Oh, Rhyder wanted to talk to you, Aunt Zoe. He's... around here somewhere."
"He can find us in the basement," Zoe told her niece, rolling over to the oven and opening it to reveal that it was full of pizza boxes. She pulled one of them out and spun around, bumping the door with her hip so that it closed with a snap. "Make sure that Hannah doesn't eat too much candy. Oh, and don't forget, Taylor: your party, your guests, your clean up."
Taylor sighed at the reminder. "Yeah, yeah, just call me Cinderella," she griped as she pulled two plates down with one hand from one of the cupboards.
Zoe laughed and pulled two wine glasses down from where they rested in the small cupboard on top of the stove. As she passed her niece, she pinched her cheek lightly. "Have fun, Cinderella."
"Aunt Zoe!"
Both adults laughed at the teen's scandalized exclamation as they gathered the supplies and Dan followed the skating Zoe the short distance to the closed door that lead downstairs. There was a light switch next to the door that Zoe flipped with her elbow, her hands full with the bottle of wine from Dan and both glasses. He opened the door for them before taking the two glasses in his spare hand, leaving Zoe with only the bottle of wine. "I don't know how you expect to get down there," he mentioned, his eyes resting on her white roller skates.
"Practice makes perfect," she answered, stepping confidently onto the top stair, her free hand holding onto the wooden banister for support. "Make sure that's not closed all the way; I want to be able to hear some of what happens up there."
Dan nodded, closing the door most of the way but leaving a four inch opening. He watched silently as his partner made her way down the stairs balanced on the two front wheels of her skates and the break. "Been practicing that long?" he asked dryly as they both made it to the bottom.
"Yep," she answered with another grin. "Welcome to the rec room. Or what will be the rec room when we're finished," she frowned as she said it.
"It's... nice," he complimented as he looked around. It was, actually, much nicer than he had expected the basement to be. Part of it was screened off, an area he assumed was devoted to the washer and drier. There were boxes stacked up over there, the basement obviously doubling as a storage space. The future rec room part of the basement, however, was bright and colorful. The cement floor was painted black and there were two sofas facing each other over a coffee table. Between the stairs and the sofas rested one of the four-in-one tabletop games and a foosball table. A bookcase held a small assortment of board games and puzzles and had boxes stacked up next to it while brightly colored rugs were scattered over the entire space.
"Thanks... Sue and the kids had just started working on it when she died," Zoe explained, grief present in her voice as she thought of her sister.
"And you decided to finish it with them," he responded as he made his way to the sofas and placed his burdens on the table.
"It just... seemed like something she'd want." Zoe was quiet for a moment, lost in her thoughts, before she shook her head. "I hope you like pepperoni on your pizza. There are some other one-topping ones up in the kitchen if you prefer them."
"Pepperoni is fine," he assured her, looking around at the assortment of things they had brought down as Zoe opened the pizza box. "We forgot a corkscrew," he finally said, gesturing to the bottle of wine she had put down.
She looked down at the table and grimaced. "Napkins, too. I'll be right back!" With that she had spun and left, rolling across the floor to the stairs, which she quickly ran up.
Dan sat down on one of the sofas and shook his head. Zoe's costume fit her personality extremely well: over the top and bright. Shiny tight shorts done in alternating stripes of light and dark pink, a tight pink t-shirt, hair haphazardly up, and, of course, the roller skates. Of course Zoe would dress up on Halloween, especially when there was a party in the house. Did he honestly expect otherwise or for her to dress in an adult standard such as a witch or a vampire? Knowing his partner's personality made him glad that he'd followed his impulse and gone to his apartment long enough to get the cowboy hat from the top of his closet: he hadn't seen the thing in years.
As he stood up and wandered through the area, his eyes catching Zoe's familiar scrawl on many of the boxes in the storage space, he mused that it had been far too long since he'd had fun for fun's sake. Too much of his time was spent working, bringing people who committed fraud to justice - or at least helping bring them to justice.
"Dan?"
He turned at the sound of his name and moved forward to the stairs. His partner made her way down the stairs at the same quick pace she had earlier, one that caused Dan to clench his teeth as he thought about the possibility of her falling and being injured. One hand held the battered white hat he had brought as his costume with slips of paper sticking out of the top; she had obviously designated it as a napkin carrier. In the other, apparently so the hat wouldn't get damaged, she carried the corkscrew she had originally gone up after. He reached the bottom of the staircase just as Zoe stepped wrong on her skate and began to fall forward. His arms were full of scantily clad woman before he was even aware of moving closer, the hat and corkscrew falling to the floor with a thud and the napkins scattering.
They stayed that way for an endless moment, faces mere inches apart and their eyes locked. Zoe had instinctively raised her arm so that it lay across the back of Dan's neck, the gesture meant to give her support after abruptly finding herself in a new position ensuring their closeness. "Thanks," she whispered almost soundlessly, not wanting to break the moment.
"Don't mention it," he quietly responded back, turning with his burden and striding towards one of the sofa to set her down on the soft cushions gently. With an admonishment to stay, he returned to the base of the stairs and gathered what had fallen quickly, returning to where he had left his partner quickly to ensure that she would stay where he had placed her. Putting what he carried on top of the pizza box, he knelt down in front of her and began to unlace the white roller skates that she wore.
"Dan, what do you think you're doing?"
"Showing some sense and taking off a pair of potential hazards before you try another foolish stunt like going up or down a staircase," came the abrupt answer as he grabbed hold of the feminine hands that were attempting to bat his away from the skate-shod feet. He placed both hands on her lap and then put one of his over them, aware of the soft, silky skin of her leg under his touch as his other hand worked alone to finish the task at hand.
"Dan," she again objected, falling silent as he pulled the first skate off her foot and immediately rolled it across the floor to crash into a concrete wall. Now in the rhythm of it, he made short work of the second one, even with only the one hand on the job. It soon joined its' counterpart, falling onto its' side with the force in which it hit the wall, two wheels still spinning from the forward motion.
"Honestly, Zoe, what were you thinking? Were you thinking?"
"Dan, calm down," she soothed, reaching out with a hesitant hand to touch his shoulder, the muscles tense under the fabric of his shirt and jacket. "I'm fine, nothing happened. Even if you hadn't caught me there wouldn't be any permanent damage. It was what, three steps? I've fallen a lot farther without any serious injury."
"What is that supposed to mean? That you should keep trying until you break something?"
Sighing slightly at his tone, she began to rub her hand against his shoulders in an effort to soothe him. "All I meant is that there wouldn't have been any permanent damage," she reiterated. "Besides," she teased, "what could happen on earth could possibly happen to me when my knight is here?" When he was silent for a few minutes, the muscles under Zoe's hand slowly loosening under her ministrations, she continued: "what's this all about, Dan? You seem kind of," she hesitated, searching for the word, and he supplied one.
"Jumpy? Neurotic?"
She shrugged and giggled, the sound causing him to raise an eyebrow. "If you're neurotic, it's only in the best way," she assured him, both of them beginning to laugh.
"I guess I am a bit...out of sorts," he finally admitted.
"There's nothing wrong with that; so am I. You should've seen me earlier when Cliff came out of hiding and grabbed me from behind!"
He chuckled as he imagined his partner's response. "Looks like he's stopped."
"Of course; I told him I had a bad day at work and that I was still a little jumpy from it. He understood that."
"A 'bad day at work?'" he asked incredulously. "Zoe, someone tried to kill you this afternoon!"
"Yeah," she considered, "but what good would my telling the kids be? Hannah still has nightmares and wakes up calling for Sue," Zoe admitted quietly with a small frown. "My telling them that my work can be dangerous won't help them find any sense of security. Besides," she continued with a shrug, "it's not like someone's trying to kill me every day."
Charmed at seeing another side of Zoe Busiek, one that he had caught glimpses of when she had talked of or to her charges, Dan leant forward on impulse and pressed his lips gently to hers for a few seconds. The kiss was infinitely gentle instead of passionate but nevertheless caused Zoe's hand to stop moving.
"Ahem." Both adults turned to the sound, flushing slightly as if they had been caught doing something inappropriate, to see Taylor on the bottom step, her possible boyfriend Rhyder one step above her, and Marcos Morales a few steps above him. Taylor stepped forward, closely followed by Rhyder. The young girl's eyes were bright, a smile playing over her lips as she considered just how much teasing this new information could get her. Rhyder soon followed Taylor and carried a large vegetable-laden platter over to the table, setting it down next to the pizza box.
"I," Marcos paused as all of the occupants of the basement looked over to where he was still standing on the stairs. Clearing his throat again, he continued: "I just wanted to come say goodbye, Zoe. I really should get home, pass out candy to the kids in my neighborhood... You know the drill."
She smiled and nodded. "Thanks for coming, Marcos, it was great seeing you!" Dan, who self-consciously rose from his kneeling position in front of her and sat down on a cushion, soon caught her attention. Shaking her head slightly, she turned to the two teenagers that had invaded the temporarily claimed 'adult space' in the house. "Hello, Rhyder," she greeted with a bright smile. "How is your mother doing?"
The boy shrugged and ran a hand through his dark hair. "She's mostly relieved and a little bit guilty," he admitted.
"She just followed the trail that the evidence left," Zoe reminded him, "she couldn't help where it led."
He nodded in agreement but grimaced slightly. "That still doesn't make her feel better." Before either Zoe or Dan could speak, he continued. "I just wanted to say 'thanks' for helping us out. It was just one more stress that Mom didn't need right now."
"Glad we could help," Dan offered, feeling slightly guilty for originally thinking that the teenager had been the vandal.
"Besides," Rhyder continued, "as much as I didn't want to move here, it's not as bad as I thought it'd be. There are even some good things about it," he said quietly, looking towards Taylor who blushed slightly at the words and look.
Taking pity on her niece and glaring over at Dan who was chuckling softly, Zoe smiled again. "What are you two doing down here," she asked, "When you could be upstairs with all the teenagers?"
Grabbing onto the life preserver that Zoe had thrown, Taylor immediately nodded. "Come on, we can make sure no one's trashing the house."
"They better not," Zoe warned darkly as the teenagers crossed the room and went up the stairs. "And don't forget."
Taylor sighed and repeated the oft spoken reminder. "My party, my guests, my clean-up. Well," she mused, looking on the bright side, "at least Cliff'll help me clean up. He did invite a bunch of his friends too."
"That's it, look on the bright side," Zoe called to her as the door was pushed back into its semi-closed position. "Well," she said brightly to Dan, reaching out to grab the corkscrew and bottle of wine he had brought to hand to him before flipping open the top of the pizza box with flourish, "alone at last." Then, thinking about how that sounded, she gestured to the stairs. "Hopefully no one decides they want to play foosball or anything."
He opened the wine with the ease of long practice and poured them both generous amounts. "It sounds like a good party up there," he gestured with the glass of wine he held in his hand before handing it to her. "Why would they want to be down here with the adults?" When she laughed and accepted the glass, he looked over at the vegetable platter that Rhyder had brought down. In addition to the vegetables, there were four ramekins filled with various dips. "We actually have some healthy food now," he looked over at her, a scandalized expression on his face. "I'm shocked!"
Zoe just shook her head and put large slices of pizza onto the plates they'd brought. "The teenagers remembered the healthy stuff, not the adults," she reminded him.
He accepted the offered plate and napkin with a laugh; sitting comfortably on the sofa with his legs sprawled before him while she, completely unselfconsciously, shifted around until she had both bare legs curled under her, her plate and a pile of napkins on her lap. He watched her surreptitiously as she took a bite of her pizza, the warm cheese stretching as she pulled the bread away. With a laugh she continued stretching it until the elasticity gave way and it broke, the string of cheese falling towards her. Before she could move the cheese from her face, he did it for her: his fingers gently lifting the greasy food from her skin and holding it for her to eat. She ate it slowly, nibbling at it until Dan was sure he was going to go insane; the warmth of her breath and the gentle not-quite- there touch of her lips and teeth against his skin were going to drive him over the edge. Without breaking eye contact, he lifted up his own napkin and gently wiped her face.
"Thanks," she said slightly breathlessly, waiting to see if he would kiss her again. When all he did was turn to his own slice of pizza and begin eating, she sighed quietly.
They easily slipped into the camaraderie they had shared from the beginning: friendship, humor, and teasing each other mixed with a good dose of easy flirtation. Dinner was over quickly, leaving them pleasantly full, lounging on the sofa with their glasses of wine and telling each other horror stories of past Halloweens as they listened to the music and occasional thumps of the party.
When it began to quiet down a bit, Zoe disappeared upstairs to check on the condition of the house and reappeared a few minutes later carrying two steaming mugs. She handed them both to him before wandering away to the boxes that was across the room. She easily found what she was looking for and used a pair of scissors that had been thrown atop them to cut open the tape.
She triumphantly pulled a bright patchwork quilt out of the box and turned to Dan with a smile on her face. "So we don't get cold," she explained as she walked back to him. She waited until he had leant against the back cushions of the sofa with both mugs in his hands before curling up next to him and draping the quilt over their laps. She accepted the bright red mug with a grin, blowing over the top of the liquid as she settled against him more comfortably.
Dan, for his part, eased an arm over the back of the sofa, casually draping it over her shoulders. He glanced down at the quilt she had brought over, chuckling at how appropriate, how like Zoe, it was. When she looked at him in silent inquiry, he gestured to the fabric. "This just...screams your name," he finally admitted.
She too looked at the fabric, the bright colors and lack of pattern that was extremely familiar to her. It had been made with love and care by her sister, Sue picking out what to use by the color and feel, oftentimes using odd-shaped scraps that she had laying around. The result was a wild mixture of silks, satins, soft cotton, and other fabrics Zoe had never been able to identify. The patterns were just as crazy: feminine flowers, graffiti style patterns, animal prints and so on. She smiled sadly, one finger tracing each petal of an intricate rose. "I guess it does," she mused. "No one knew me better."
"Your sister made this?" When Zoe nodded he reached out and covered her hand with his, his long fingers following her stroking movements. "She was talented. You're lucky to have to many things to..." he trailed off, unsure of how to say what he wanted but not wanting to say anything trite.
She twisted her hands beneath his so their palms met, tickling at his skin with a light touch. "I know. I'm incredibly lucky: I have the kids, my friends, and a great job... Nothing more I could want."
"Nothing?" He asked the question softly with his eyes on her bent head.
She looked up from the quilt then, their eyes meeting and catching, a host of thoughts, fears, and hopes being telegraphed between them. Her hand was gently extricated from his and she raised it to his face, almost laying it against the skin. When he turned his head slightly, kissing her palm without losing eye contact, she moistened her lips with her tongue. "Dan," she started quietly, only to stop in frustration.
"Aunt Zoe?"
She reluctantly turned away at the plaintive voice to see Hannah standing in the doorway, her hands clutching Freddie, the stuffed rabbit her mother had given her mere weeks before she'd died, and holding the quilt she had wrapped around her shoulders firmly to the small body. "Did you need something, Hannah? Are you feeling okay?"
The little girl nodded and came closer, one edge of the quilt slipping to show the bright green collar of a woman's shirt. "I didn't like the story that Cliff and Taylor told me."
"Too scary?" She asked as the girl clambered up onto the sofa, her well- wrapped body squirming until it was resting between the two adults.
"Not good enough," Hannah pouted for a minute before turning to Dan, who was sitting completely still. "Will you tell me a story, Mr. Dan?"
"I, um, I don't know many children's stories, Hannah," he finally told the little girl, still bemused at the trust he had been given, apparently without reason.
"That's okay," came the sleepy answer. "Aunt Zoe usually tells me a Las Vegas story."
At his slightly incredulous look, Zoe shrugged slightly and whispered/mouthed 'well-edited' to him. She accepted his mug of hot cocoa and leant forward to place both of them on the table before resettling herself.
"Right, well, I don't think I can tell a Las Vegas story like your Aunt Zoe... How about something else?"
"Kay."
Dan thought for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Once upon a time there was a troubled young man -"
"A prince?" was the first interruption.
"No, Hannah, just a young man who lived in the kingdom." He began again: "Once upon a time there was a troubled young man who left his family after an argument and roamed his way through the kingdom all alone. He stayed that way, drifting, until he finally found some friends who accepted him. What he didn't know was that they weren't good friends; they always did bad things and got into trouble. They taught our young man -"
"What's his name?" was the second interruption.
"Whose?"
"The young man, silly," the little girl giggled at him.
"Oh, um," he thought for a moment before deciding to give the erstwhile hero his own middle name. "His name is John. Can I keep going?"
"John..." Hannah nodded, accepting it and letting Dan know that he could continue.
"Right... They taught our young man -"
"John." was interjected into the story.
Dan sighed, looking over at Zoe. "They taught John," he stressed the name, causing Hannah to giggle, "how to live without his family and do bad things and not get caught. After some time, with the help of a beautiful witch, he became a wonderful thief."
"Why?" came the latest interruption.
"Why what?" Dan asked, beginning to think that Zoe's niece had definitely inherited her skills at confusing him, to say nothing about having to know every little detail.
"Why'd he become a thief? It's not a wonderful thing. And witches can't be beautiful," she informed him.
"I meant he was a good thief, not that stealing things was a good idea," he hastened to explain, not wanting to give the girl any ideas. "The witch who taught John to be a thief was beautiful, Hannah, so beautiful, in fact, that he didn't know she was witch at first."
"She was in disguise as a princess!" Hannah snuggled closer to him even as she said her explanation.
"Not exactly, Hannah. Who's telling this story, you or me?"
"You, but..."
"Yes?"
"You didn't say why he became a thief," she reminded him.
"He became a thief because he didn't know any better," Dan finally settled on, hoping that the little girl would be satisfied with that answer but doubting it. Her next comment proved him right.
"Didn't his parents teach them right from wrong?"
"They wanted to, Hannah. They tried to. John just wouldn't listen for a lot of reasons."
"Oh." She settled closer to him, valiantly fighting a yawn as her head fell to his shoulder.
"Can I continue now?"
"May I," she sleepily corrected. "Yeah."
Shaking his head in amusement, he collected his thoughts. "John and the witch became partners, working together and stealing things from other people. They never stole anything that was plain or ugly because the witch craved beautiful things. The friends stayed together as a group and helped each other until one day they began to drift apart. All of a sudden, John found himself alone with the witch. The beautiful witch," he said mock sternly, tickling Hannah's side and earning him a sleepy giggle. "Time passed and eventually John found himself falling in love with the witch."
"Was it a spell?" The question was slurred, Hannah rapidly falling asleep despite trying to stay awake.
"Not exactly. There was a spell, but not one to make John love her. It was one that made bad things seem good and ugly things beautiful."
"Was he saved by a princess?"
He smiled down at the little girl, hugging her warm body to his side impulsively. "Skipping ahead, Hannah?"
"Like happy endings best," she replied very quietly, almost on the cusp of sleep.
"There wasn't a princess then, but one day John realized that he did want to meet a princess and fall in love with her. Real love, not spell love. He left his friends and the witch and worked hard to become one of the good guys. John started to think that he would never meet his princess but then one day when he least expected it, she showed up and turned his life upside down." He stopped his story, expecting Hannah to interrupt again. When she didn't, he looked down to the little girl and saw a tangle of soft brown hair and sleep-flushed cheeks. Her breathing was even, little sighs being made every few seconds. "Looks like she finally gave up," he said quietly to Zoe, looking over at her and catching her gaze.
Zoe smiled at the picture before her; cynical Dan Lennox with a sleeping child in his lap, leaning against is chest. "Why don't I take her upstairs," she finally said just as Dan began to get uncomfortable with the silent watching.
"No," he immediately contradicted, gathering Hannah closer to him and levering himself up from the sofa carefully, not wanting to wake her up. "I'll take her. Wow," he laughed, shifting the wrapped bundle in his arms. "She's heavier than I expected."
"A sleeping child automatically gains twenty pounds," she said with a laugh as she bent to pick Freddie bear up from the floor and lead him up the stairs. They made their way through the house to the other staircase and climbed it before Zoe led him into a bedroom.
He made his way to the bunk beds and waited while Zoe quickly moved all of the toys from the bottom bed before laying Hannah down on it. The little girl stirred sleepily, one arm reaching out from the blanket to wrap around Dan's neck as he was still bent over her. Along with the one-armed hug, she gave him a sleepy kiss on his cheek, getting one on her forehead in return. He stood up, watching as Zoe came forward and gave the little girl a kiss of her own and letting her reclaim Freddie.
"Sweet dreams, Hannah." She turned then, and they left the bedroom silently, drawing the door shut so that a little light from the hallway spilled in. "So," she started with a smile, "where were we when we got interrupted?" She yawned then, one hand rising to cover her mouth guiltily.
He smiled and shook his head, drawing her close to him and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "Today's been rough, Zoe. You should go to sleep; another day or two won't make much of a difference."
Zoe opened her mouth about to protest, only to subside when he raised an eyebrow. "Okay," she agreed reluctantly, letting him walk her to her bedroom door. "Hey, Dan?"
"Yeah?"
"Does John get a happy ending with his princess?"
Dan smiled again, reaching out and running a finger down the side of her face as she had done to his. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "It hasn't been written yet."
She smiled a soft, feminine smile and leant forward to kiss his cheek. "Good night, Dan."
"Sweet dreams." He waited in the hall until Zoe had gone into the bedroom and closed the door behind her before making the journey back downstairs to the basement. He folded the blanket he and Zoe had been nestled together under and laid it over the back of the sofa before gathering the food paraphernalia and putting it all in one pile. Purring on his jacket and the battered white hat he had come to the party with, he gathered everything in his arms and made his way up the staircase carefully, smiling to Cliff as he took the majority of his burden and set it on the counter. "Thanks."
He helped the teenagers a bit, stacking empty pizza boxes and throwing away cans of soda and cups that had held punch, before leaving the house. He made his way to his car and stopped, looking back at the house much as he had done earlier in the evening. It was late now, the small children having gone to bed and the streets only occupied by older teenagers who had either no curfew or a late one. The streetlights were on, alleviating some of the darkness of the night, and everything was quiet and still. The house before him was no longer shuddering under the assault of blasting music and teenagers and pre-teens partying. As he watched, the light in an upstairs window turned off, leaving the second story in darkness.
"Sleep well, princess," he murmured as he climbed into his car and drove home.
* End *
Reviews are welcome!
By: Kameka
Rating: G
Status: Completed, Series
Notes: This is the second in a 'Moments Frozen in Time,' a series of scenes/stories following the possibility of romance between Zoe and Dan, as well as their lives. While each scene/story is self-contained, I suggest that you read them in order.
Spoilers: "Spooked"
Summary: (MFT # 2, sequel to "Hidden Reaction") - Zoe and Dan bond when Dan goes to the Halloween party that Hannah had invited him to.
* * *
Dan stared up at the house he stood in front of, losing his balance slightly as costumed youngsters crashed into him. They raced off without a word, their flustered minders hastily offering apologies as they rushed after them. He shook his head, taking in the chaos of the house-lined street. Kids on a sugar rush, frantic parents chasing them to and fro, walking with the smaller trick-or-treaters and waiting on the sidewalks as they ran up to the houses to get their expected treats. Older kids, not so old to have lost the magic of the night, or just wanting the free candy, were also costumed and wandering around with their friends, too cool to be watched over by adults. More than one was no doubt carrying the necessary items to manage the normal Halloween pranks: egging or toilet papering a house, putting shaving cream on the windshield of a car, and countless other possible pranks.
It was, in short, nothing less than controlled chaos, if there was any such thing in the universe. The lights were ablaze in the home that he was about to enter and music was already drifting his way in the brisk October air. He winced, thinking of the quiet he could bask in at his own apartment, before straightening his shoulders. He'd come here not only because he'd been invited but also because it was an opportunity he didn't want to miss. This was his chance to enter Zoe's private life, a glimpse of her at home with her family. He knew that she cared about them, could tell by the way she spoke of them and to them, her voice filled with both love and exasperation, tinged with a slight trace of fear that she wasn't doing the right thing, wasn't what they needed. But he'd never been invited to be a part of it before, to see her in action.
Then there was the matter of what they had shared earlier that afternoon. Almost shared. Had they really almost kissed? It was the stuff dreams were made of, his dreams. The whole thing had taken on a surreal quality: the feel of her against him was branded into his skin and he had felt bereft with loss since they had parted. It would seem much more real to them if they had kissed, he had long since decided. Instead he was tantalized with the memory of her wide vulnerable eyes and warm breath tinged with the scent of coffee and mints, his fingers could still feel the softness of her skin where he had touched her.
All traces of that Zoe had been erased by the time he had returned with the police officers, explaining who he and his partner were, giving them the number to the office for their information to be verified. He had even begun to explain what had happened, who the attacker was and why. When he'd stepped back into the room, his eyes automatically looking for his partner even as he relaxed slightly at the form still on the ground, he'd found the boldly confidant woman he worked beside every day. Smiling, her voice ringing with the same zest for life that it always did, she'd answered all of the officers' questions. It was the same when they had finally made it back to the office and told the same story to Sophia Mason, their once-partner and now boss.
He'd stepped out of the room to one personality and walked into a completely different one. The switch was mind-boggling.
And so here he was, standing on a sidewalk surrounded by laughing, screaming youngsters having the time of their lives, instead of at home sipping wine and reading a good book as he'd planned. He was about to enter the world of partying teenagers, one that he'd left behind when he'd left his past. All to see if he could catch a glimpse of the woman he'd seen earlier that day. To see if what he'd thought almost happened really had.
Another child, this one dressed as a monster of some sort, ran into him as it barreled from the house he stood in front of. Shaking his head and bringing himself back to the present instead of lost in his thoughts, he started to the house, the music volume growing steadily as he ventured closer. He knocked on the door with the knuckles of one hand, stepping back slightly when it opened to reveal Hannah still dressed as Harriet Tubman, her face smeared in places with chocolate that had obviously come from the almost completely empty bowl she held clutched to her chest.
"Mr. Lennox!"
"Trick-or-treat," he said with a smile towards the little girl.
"You came!"
"I couldn't turn down an invitation made by such a beautiful young lady, could I?"
She giggled and reached out to grab his hand, pulling him into the chaos of the house as she passed the last candy bar in the bowl to him. "Aunt Zoe's in the kitchen, Mr. Lennox."
"Why don't you make that 'Dan,' Hannah? I'm pretty sure your Aunt Zoe won't mind."
She considered it for a minute before shrugging. "Okay, Mr. Dan."
He shook his head, wondering if that was an improvement or not. He finally decided that as long as Hannah was happy, it worked just fine for him. As he dragged him through the house, he took in the scene passing him by. The stereo was set up in one corner, CDs covering the small table placed beside it. The television was turned on, showing horror movies for anyone who wanted to watch, and bowls of snacks were situated around the room. Hannah took him on a circular route, checking the contents of the scattered bowls and picking up the ones that were low. He automatically took them from her, balancing them as best he could with one hand, the hat that had been in it now perched atop his head and the bottle of wine in the crook of his elbow.
"Aunt Zoe, Mr. Dan is here!" Hannah called as she led him into the kitchen.
"Hi, Mr. Dan," Zoe mimicked as she accepted the precariously balanced bowls with a grin and performed a twirl on the skates she wore. She gracefully made her way to the counter and dumped more food into them, lining them up on the counter for her pint-size sergeant-in-charge-of-food to redistribute around the living room. "No costume?"
He sheepishly touched the brim of the somewhat battered looking white cowboy hat. "Dan Lennox, slightly tarnished White Knight at your service, milady," he answered with a grin as he accepted the cup of punch Zoe handed to him.
"Aunt Zoe," Hannah interrupted, holding up the bowl she had refused to let go of, "I need more candy for the trick-or-treaters."
"Again?" she asked melodramatically, twirling around the little girl. "Are you sure you're giving the candy to the trick-or-treaters and not keeping it for yourself, Ms. Tubman?"
Hannah nodded energetically, hurrying over to Dan and picking up the mini candy bar he had placed on the counter. "See? He said 'trick-or-treat' and got a treat!"
Dan nodded, taking the little girl's side momentarily. "I can't verify that she gave out the rest, but she certainly did her duty by me."
Zoe laughed and refilled the bowl from one of many bags of candy left. "There you are, Ms. Tubman."
"Thanks, Aunt Zoe!" She put the bowl down and grabbed two of the others and raced out to the living room to replace them.
"Ugh, can you believe that Julian dared to show up as Angel?" Taylor asked as she ventured into the kitchen from the party. "Hi, Mr. Lennox," she ventured belatedly, seeing him standing by the counter.
Dan took in the girl's costume of a short black skirt, blue top, blonde wig, and a wooden stake in one hand. "Hi, Taylor. Dan's fine." The teenager nodded. "Um, what's wrong with Julian dressing up as an angel?"
Taylor stared at him in open-mouthed shock. "Not a angel," she finally explained. "Angel."
He raised an eyebrow and looked towards Zoe for an explanation he might understand. "Angel's a vampire, Dan."
"Oh, and," he gestured towards the blonde wig-clad teenager.
"I'm Buffy," she told him. "You know, the vampire slayer."
Dan chuckled and shook his head. "Of course, who else would you be?"
Zoe finally took pity on him, explaining the problem. "Julian's dating Taylor's best friend but he dressed as Angel. Angel and Buffy are soul mates."
"A vampire and the vampire slayer are soul mates?"
"Yep," Zoe agreed with a grin. "Angel's a vampire with a soul. They have a whole star-crossed lovers, modern Romeo and Juliet thing going on."
"And if they have sex, Angel goes evil again and kills and tortures people," Taylor added helpfully. When he still looked confused, she sighed.
"Hey, Taylor, you're going to have to be in charge of the food, okay? We're going to be heading downstairs. Call if you need anything," she stressed the final sentence, knowing that if something bad happened the kids would try to take care of it themselves, something she didn't want.
"'Kay. Oh, Rhyder wanted to talk to you, Aunt Zoe. He's... around here somewhere."
"He can find us in the basement," Zoe told her niece, rolling over to the oven and opening it to reveal that it was full of pizza boxes. She pulled one of them out and spun around, bumping the door with her hip so that it closed with a snap. "Make sure that Hannah doesn't eat too much candy. Oh, and don't forget, Taylor: your party, your guests, your clean up."
Taylor sighed at the reminder. "Yeah, yeah, just call me Cinderella," she griped as she pulled two plates down with one hand from one of the cupboards.
Zoe laughed and pulled two wine glasses down from where they rested in the small cupboard on top of the stove. As she passed her niece, she pinched her cheek lightly. "Have fun, Cinderella."
"Aunt Zoe!"
Both adults laughed at the teen's scandalized exclamation as they gathered the supplies and Dan followed the skating Zoe the short distance to the closed door that lead downstairs. There was a light switch next to the door that Zoe flipped with her elbow, her hands full with the bottle of wine from Dan and both glasses. He opened the door for them before taking the two glasses in his spare hand, leaving Zoe with only the bottle of wine. "I don't know how you expect to get down there," he mentioned, his eyes resting on her white roller skates.
"Practice makes perfect," she answered, stepping confidently onto the top stair, her free hand holding onto the wooden banister for support. "Make sure that's not closed all the way; I want to be able to hear some of what happens up there."
Dan nodded, closing the door most of the way but leaving a four inch opening. He watched silently as his partner made her way down the stairs balanced on the two front wheels of her skates and the break. "Been practicing that long?" he asked dryly as they both made it to the bottom.
"Yep," she answered with another grin. "Welcome to the rec room. Or what will be the rec room when we're finished," she frowned as she said it.
"It's... nice," he complimented as he looked around. It was, actually, much nicer than he had expected the basement to be. Part of it was screened off, an area he assumed was devoted to the washer and drier. There were boxes stacked up over there, the basement obviously doubling as a storage space. The future rec room part of the basement, however, was bright and colorful. The cement floor was painted black and there were two sofas facing each other over a coffee table. Between the stairs and the sofas rested one of the four-in-one tabletop games and a foosball table. A bookcase held a small assortment of board games and puzzles and had boxes stacked up next to it while brightly colored rugs were scattered over the entire space.
"Thanks... Sue and the kids had just started working on it when she died," Zoe explained, grief present in her voice as she thought of her sister.
"And you decided to finish it with them," he responded as he made his way to the sofas and placed his burdens on the table.
"It just... seemed like something she'd want." Zoe was quiet for a moment, lost in her thoughts, before she shook her head. "I hope you like pepperoni on your pizza. There are some other one-topping ones up in the kitchen if you prefer them."
"Pepperoni is fine," he assured her, looking around at the assortment of things they had brought down as Zoe opened the pizza box. "We forgot a corkscrew," he finally said, gesturing to the bottle of wine she had put down.
She looked down at the table and grimaced. "Napkins, too. I'll be right back!" With that she had spun and left, rolling across the floor to the stairs, which she quickly ran up.
Dan sat down on one of the sofas and shook his head. Zoe's costume fit her personality extremely well: over the top and bright. Shiny tight shorts done in alternating stripes of light and dark pink, a tight pink t-shirt, hair haphazardly up, and, of course, the roller skates. Of course Zoe would dress up on Halloween, especially when there was a party in the house. Did he honestly expect otherwise or for her to dress in an adult standard such as a witch or a vampire? Knowing his partner's personality made him glad that he'd followed his impulse and gone to his apartment long enough to get the cowboy hat from the top of his closet: he hadn't seen the thing in years.
As he stood up and wandered through the area, his eyes catching Zoe's familiar scrawl on many of the boxes in the storage space, he mused that it had been far too long since he'd had fun for fun's sake. Too much of his time was spent working, bringing people who committed fraud to justice - or at least helping bring them to justice.
"Dan?"
He turned at the sound of his name and moved forward to the stairs. His partner made her way down the stairs at the same quick pace she had earlier, one that caused Dan to clench his teeth as he thought about the possibility of her falling and being injured. One hand held the battered white hat he had brought as his costume with slips of paper sticking out of the top; she had obviously designated it as a napkin carrier. In the other, apparently so the hat wouldn't get damaged, she carried the corkscrew she had originally gone up after. He reached the bottom of the staircase just as Zoe stepped wrong on her skate and began to fall forward. His arms were full of scantily clad woman before he was even aware of moving closer, the hat and corkscrew falling to the floor with a thud and the napkins scattering.
They stayed that way for an endless moment, faces mere inches apart and their eyes locked. Zoe had instinctively raised her arm so that it lay across the back of Dan's neck, the gesture meant to give her support after abruptly finding herself in a new position ensuring their closeness. "Thanks," she whispered almost soundlessly, not wanting to break the moment.
"Don't mention it," he quietly responded back, turning with his burden and striding towards one of the sofa to set her down on the soft cushions gently. With an admonishment to stay, he returned to the base of the stairs and gathered what had fallen quickly, returning to where he had left his partner quickly to ensure that she would stay where he had placed her. Putting what he carried on top of the pizza box, he knelt down in front of her and began to unlace the white roller skates that she wore.
"Dan, what do you think you're doing?"
"Showing some sense and taking off a pair of potential hazards before you try another foolish stunt like going up or down a staircase," came the abrupt answer as he grabbed hold of the feminine hands that were attempting to bat his away from the skate-shod feet. He placed both hands on her lap and then put one of his over them, aware of the soft, silky skin of her leg under his touch as his other hand worked alone to finish the task at hand.
"Dan," she again objected, falling silent as he pulled the first skate off her foot and immediately rolled it across the floor to crash into a concrete wall. Now in the rhythm of it, he made short work of the second one, even with only the one hand on the job. It soon joined its' counterpart, falling onto its' side with the force in which it hit the wall, two wheels still spinning from the forward motion.
"Honestly, Zoe, what were you thinking? Were you thinking?"
"Dan, calm down," she soothed, reaching out with a hesitant hand to touch his shoulder, the muscles tense under the fabric of his shirt and jacket. "I'm fine, nothing happened. Even if you hadn't caught me there wouldn't be any permanent damage. It was what, three steps? I've fallen a lot farther without any serious injury."
"What is that supposed to mean? That you should keep trying until you break something?"
Sighing slightly at his tone, she began to rub her hand against his shoulders in an effort to soothe him. "All I meant is that there wouldn't have been any permanent damage," she reiterated. "Besides," she teased, "what could happen on earth could possibly happen to me when my knight is here?" When he was silent for a few minutes, the muscles under Zoe's hand slowly loosening under her ministrations, she continued: "what's this all about, Dan? You seem kind of," she hesitated, searching for the word, and he supplied one.
"Jumpy? Neurotic?"
She shrugged and giggled, the sound causing him to raise an eyebrow. "If you're neurotic, it's only in the best way," she assured him, both of them beginning to laugh.
"I guess I am a bit...out of sorts," he finally admitted.
"There's nothing wrong with that; so am I. You should've seen me earlier when Cliff came out of hiding and grabbed me from behind!"
He chuckled as he imagined his partner's response. "Looks like he's stopped."
"Of course; I told him I had a bad day at work and that I was still a little jumpy from it. He understood that."
"A 'bad day at work?'" he asked incredulously. "Zoe, someone tried to kill you this afternoon!"
"Yeah," she considered, "but what good would my telling the kids be? Hannah still has nightmares and wakes up calling for Sue," Zoe admitted quietly with a small frown. "My telling them that my work can be dangerous won't help them find any sense of security. Besides," she continued with a shrug, "it's not like someone's trying to kill me every day."
Charmed at seeing another side of Zoe Busiek, one that he had caught glimpses of when she had talked of or to her charges, Dan leant forward on impulse and pressed his lips gently to hers for a few seconds. The kiss was infinitely gentle instead of passionate but nevertheless caused Zoe's hand to stop moving.
"Ahem." Both adults turned to the sound, flushing slightly as if they had been caught doing something inappropriate, to see Taylor on the bottom step, her possible boyfriend Rhyder one step above her, and Marcos Morales a few steps above him. Taylor stepped forward, closely followed by Rhyder. The young girl's eyes were bright, a smile playing over her lips as she considered just how much teasing this new information could get her. Rhyder soon followed Taylor and carried a large vegetable-laden platter over to the table, setting it down next to the pizza box.
"I," Marcos paused as all of the occupants of the basement looked over to where he was still standing on the stairs. Clearing his throat again, he continued: "I just wanted to come say goodbye, Zoe. I really should get home, pass out candy to the kids in my neighborhood... You know the drill."
She smiled and nodded. "Thanks for coming, Marcos, it was great seeing you!" Dan, who self-consciously rose from his kneeling position in front of her and sat down on a cushion, soon caught her attention. Shaking her head slightly, she turned to the two teenagers that had invaded the temporarily claimed 'adult space' in the house. "Hello, Rhyder," she greeted with a bright smile. "How is your mother doing?"
The boy shrugged and ran a hand through his dark hair. "She's mostly relieved and a little bit guilty," he admitted.
"She just followed the trail that the evidence left," Zoe reminded him, "she couldn't help where it led."
He nodded in agreement but grimaced slightly. "That still doesn't make her feel better." Before either Zoe or Dan could speak, he continued. "I just wanted to say 'thanks' for helping us out. It was just one more stress that Mom didn't need right now."
"Glad we could help," Dan offered, feeling slightly guilty for originally thinking that the teenager had been the vandal.
"Besides," Rhyder continued, "as much as I didn't want to move here, it's not as bad as I thought it'd be. There are even some good things about it," he said quietly, looking towards Taylor who blushed slightly at the words and look.
Taking pity on her niece and glaring over at Dan who was chuckling softly, Zoe smiled again. "What are you two doing down here," she asked, "When you could be upstairs with all the teenagers?"
Grabbing onto the life preserver that Zoe had thrown, Taylor immediately nodded. "Come on, we can make sure no one's trashing the house."
"They better not," Zoe warned darkly as the teenagers crossed the room and went up the stairs. "And don't forget."
Taylor sighed and repeated the oft spoken reminder. "My party, my guests, my clean-up. Well," she mused, looking on the bright side, "at least Cliff'll help me clean up. He did invite a bunch of his friends too."
"That's it, look on the bright side," Zoe called to her as the door was pushed back into its semi-closed position. "Well," she said brightly to Dan, reaching out to grab the corkscrew and bottle of wine he had brought to hand to him before flipping open the top of the pizza box with flourish, "alone at last." Then, thinking about how that sounded, she gestured to the stairs. "Hopefully no one decides they want to play foosball or anything."
He opened the wine with the ease of long practice and poured them both generous amounts. "It sounds like a good party up there," he gestured with the glass of wine he held in his hand before handing it to her. "Why would they want to be down here with the adults?" When she laughed and accepted the glass, he looked over at the vegetable platter that Rhyder had brought down. In addition to the vegetables, there were four ramekins filled with various dips. "We actually have some healthy food now," he looked over at her, a scandalized expression on his face. "I'm shocked!"
Zoe just shook her head and put large slices of pizza onto the plates they'd brought. "The teenagers remembered the healthy stuff, not the adults," she reminded him.
He accepted the offered plate and napkin with a laugh; sitting comfortably on the sofa with his legs sprawled before him while she, completely unselfconsciously, shifted around until she had both bare legs curled under her, her plate and a pile of napkins on her lap. He watched her surreptitiously as she took a bite of her pizza, the warm cheese stretching as she pulled the bread away. With a laugh she continued stretching it until the elasticity gave way and it broke, the string of cheese falling towards her. Before she could move the cheese from her face, he did it for her: his fingers gently lifting the greasy food from her skin and holding it for her to eat. She ate it slowly, nibbling at it until Dan was sure he was going to go insane; the warmth of her breath and the gentle not-quite- there touch of her lips and teeth against his skin were going to drive him over the edge. Without breaking eye contact, he lifted up his own napkin and gently wiped her face.
"Thanks," she said slightly breathlessly, waiting to see if he would kiss her again. When all he did was turn to his own slice of pizza and begin eating, she sighed quietly.
They easily slipped into the camaraderie they had shared from the beginning: friendship, humor, and teasing each other mixed with a good dose of easy flirtation. Dinner was over quickly, leaving them pleasantly full, lounging on the sofa with their glasses of wine and telling each other horror stories of past Halloweens as they listened to the music and occasional thumps of the party.
When it began to quiet down a bit, Zoe disappeared upstairs to check on the condition of the house and reappeared a few minutes later carrying two steaming mugs. She handed them both to him before wandering away to the boxes that was across the room. She easily found what she was looking for and used a pair of scissors that had been thrown atop them to cut open the tape.
She triumphantly pulled a bright patchwork quilt out of the box and turned to Dan with a smile on her face. "So we don't get cold," she explained as she walked back to him. She waited until he had leant against the back cushions of the sofa with both mugs in his hands before curling up next to him and draping the quilt over their laps. She accepted the bright red mug with a grin, blowing over the top of the liquid as she settled against him more comfortably.
Dan, for his part, eased an arm over the back of the sofa, casually draping it over her shoulders. He glanced down at the quilt she had brought over, chuckling at how appropriate, how like Zoe, it was. When she looked at him in silent inquiry, he gestured to the fabric. "This just...screams your name," he finally admitted.
She too looked at the fabric, the bright colors and lack of pattern that was extremely familiar to her. It had been made with love and care by her sister, Sue picking out what to use by the color and feel, oftentimes using odd-shaped scraps that she had laying around. The result was a wild mixture of silks, satins, soft cotton, and other fabrics Zoe had never been able to identify. The patterns were just as crazy: feminine flowers, graffiti style patterns, animal prints and so on. She smiled sadly, one finger tracing each petal of an intricate rose. "I guess it does," she mused. "No one knew me better."
"Your sister made this?" When Zoe nodded he reached out and covered her hand with his, his long fingers following her stroking movements. "She was talented. You're lucky to have to many things to..." he trailed off, unsure of how to say what he wanted but not wanting to say anything trite.
She twisted her hands beneath his so their palms met, tickling at his skin with a light touch. "I know. I'm incredibly lucky: I have the kids, my friends, and a great job... Nothing more I could want."
"Nothing?" He asked the question softly with his eyes on her bent head.
She looked up from the quilt then, their eyes meeting and catching, a host of thoughts, fears, and hopes being telegraphed between them. Her hand was gently extricated from his and she raised it to his face, almost laying it against the skin. When he turned his head slightly, kissing her palm without losing eye contact, she moistened her lips with her tongue. "Dan," she started quietly, only to stop in frustration.
"Aunt Zoe?"
She reluctantly turned away at the plaintive voice to see Hannah standing in the doorway, her hands clutching Freddie, the stuffed rabbit her mother had given her mere weeks before she'd died, and holding the quilt she had wrapped around her shoulders firmly to the small body. "Did you need something, Hannah? Are you feeling okay?"
The little girl nodded and came closer, one edge of the quilt slipping to show the bright green collar of a woman's shirt. "I didn't like the story that Cliff and Taylor told me."
"Too scary?" She asked as the girl clambered up onto the sofa, her well- wrapped body squirming until it was resting between the two adults.
"Not good enough," Hannah pouted for a minute before turning to Dan, who was sitting completely still. "Will you tell me a story, Mr. Dan?"
"I, um, I don't know many children's stories, Hannah," he finally told the little girl, still bemused at the trust he had been given, apparently without reason.
"That's okay," came the sleepy answer. "Aunt Zoe usually tells me a Las Vegas story."
At his slightly incredulous look, Zoe shrugged slightly and whispered/mouthed 'well-edited' to him. She accepted his mug of hot cocoa and leant forward to place both of them on the table before resettling herself.
"Right, well, I don't think I can tell a Las Vegas story like your Aunt Zoe... How about something else?"
"Kay."
Dan thought for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Once upon a time there was a troubled young man -"
"A prince?" was the first interruption.
"No, Hannah, just a young man who lived in the kingdom." He began again: "Once upon a time there was a troubled young man who left his family after an argument and roamed his way through the kingdom all alone. He stayed that way, drifting, until he finally found some friends who accepted him. What he didn't know was that they weren't good friends; they always did bad things and got into trouble. They taught our young man -"
"What's his name?" was the second interruption.
"Whose?"
"The young man, silly," the little girl giggled at him.
"Oh, um," he thought for a moment before deciding to give the erstwhile hero his own middle name. "His name is John. Can I keep going?"
"John..." Hannah nodded, accepting it and letting Dan know that he could continue.
"Right... They taught our young man -"
"John." was interjected into the story.
Dan sighed, looking over at Zoe. "They taught John," he stressed the name, causing Hannah to giggle, "how to live without his family and do bad things and not get caught. After some time, with the help of a beautiful witch, he became a wonderful thief."
"Why?" came the latest interruption.
"Why what?" Dan asked, beginning to think that Zoe's niece had definitely inherited her skills at confusing him, to say nothing about having to know every little detail.
"Why'd he become a thief? It's not a wonderful thing. And witches can't be beautiful," she informed him.
"I meant he was a good thief, not that stealing things was a good idea," he hastened to explain, not wanting to give the girl any ideas. "The witch who taught John to be a thief was beautiful, Hannah, so beautiful, in fact, that he didn't know she was witch at first."
"She was in disguise as a princess!" Hannah snuggled closer to him even as she said her explanation.
"Not exactly, Hannah. Who's telling this story, you or me?"
"You, but..."
"Yes?"
"You didn't say why he became a thief," she reminded him.
"He became a thief because he didn't know any better," Dan finally settled on, hoping that the little girl would be satisfied with that answer but doubting it. Her next comment proved him right.
"Didn't his parents teach them right from wrong?"
"They wanted to, Hannah. They tried to. John just wouldn't listen for a lot of reasons."
"Oh." She settled closer to him, valiantly fighting a yawn as her head fell to his shoulder.
"Can I continue now?"
"May I," she sleepily corrected. "Yeah."
Shaking his head in amusement, he collected his thoughts. "John and the witch became partners, working together and stealing things from other people. They never stole anything that was plain or ugly because the witch craved beautiful things. The friends stayed together as a group and helped each other until one day they began to drift apart. All of a sudden, John found himself alone with the witch. The beautiful witch," he said mock sternly, tickling Hannah's side and earning him a sleepy giggle. "Time passed and eventually John found himself falling in love with the witch."
"Was it a spell?" The question was slurred, Hannah rapidly falling asleep despite trying to stay awake.
"Not exactly. There was a spell, but not one to make John love her. It was one that made bad things seem good and ugly things beautiful."
"Was he saved by a princess?"
He smiled down at the little girl, hugging her warm body to his side impulsively. "Skipping ahead, Hannah?"
"Like happy endings best," she replied very quietly, almost on the cusp of sleep.
"There wasn't a princess then, but one day John realized that he did want to meet a princess and fall in love with her. Real love, not spell love. He left his friends and the witch and worked hard to become one of the good guys. John started to think that he would never meet his princess but then one day when he least expected it, she showed up and turned his life upside down." He stopped his story, expecting Hannah to interrupt again. When she didn't, he looked down to the little girl and saw a tangle of soft brown hair and sleep-flushed cheeks. Her breathing was even, little sighs being made every few seconds. "Looks like she finally gave up," he said quietly to Zoe, looking over at her and catching her gaze.
Zoe smiled at the picture before her; cynical Dan Lennox with a sleeping child in his lap, leaning against is chest. "Why don't I take her upstairs," she finally said just as Dan began to get uncomfortable with the silent watching.
"No," he immediately contradicted, gathering Hannah closer to him and levering himself up from the sofa carefully, not wanting to wake her up. "I'll take her. Wow," he laughed, shifting the wrapped bundle in his arms. "She's heavier than I expected."
"A sleeping child automatically gains twenty pounds," she said with a laugh as she bent to pick Freddie bear up from the floor and lead him up the stairs. They made their way through the house to the other staircase and climbed it before Zoe led him into a bedroom.
He made his way to the bunk beds and waited while Zoe quickly moved all of the toys from the bottom bed before laying Hannah down on it. The little girl stirred sleepily, one arm reaching out from the blanket to wrap around Dan's neck as he was still bent over her. Along with the one-armed hug, she gave him a sleepy kiss on his cheek, getting one on her forehead in return. He stood up, watching as Zoe came forward and gave the little girl a kiss of her own and letting her reclaim Freddie.
"Sweet dreams, Hannah." She turned then, and they left the bedroom silently, drawing the door shut so that a little light from the hallway spilled in. "So," she started with a smile, "where were we when we got interrupted?" She yawned then, one hand rising to cover her mouth guiltily.
He smiled and shook his head, drawing her close to him and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "Today's been rough, Zoe. You should go to sleep; another day or two won't make much of a difference."
Zoe opened her mouth about to protest, only to subside when he raised an eyebrow. "Okay," she agreed reluctantly, letting him walk her to her bedroom door. "Hey, Dan?"
"Yeah?"
"Does John get a happy ending with his princess?"
Dan smiled again, reaching out and running a finger down the side of her face as she had done to his. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "It hasn't been written yet."
She smiled a soft, feminine smile and leant forward to kiss his cheek. "Good night, Dan."
"Sweet dreams." He waited in the hall until Zoe had gone into the bedroom and closed the door behind her before making the journey back downstairs to the basement. He folded the blanket he and Zoe had been nestled together under and laid it over the back of the sofa before gathering the food paraphernalia and putting it all in one pile. Purring on his jacket and the battered white hat he had come to the party with, he gathered everything in his arms and made his way up the staircase carefully, smiling to Cliff as he took the majority of his burden and set it on the counter. "Thanks."
He helped the teenagers a bit, stacking empty pizza boxes and throwing away cans of soda and cups that had held punch, before leaving the house. He made his way to his car and stopped, looking back at the house much as he had done earlier in the evening. It was late now, the small children having gone to bed and the streets only occupied by older teenagers who had either no curfew or a late one. The streetlights were on, alleviating some of the darkness of the night, and everything was quiet and still. The house before him was no longer shuddering under the assault of blasting music and teenagers and pre-teens partying. As he watched, the light in an upstairs window turned off, leaving the second story in darkness.
"Sleep well, princess," he murmured as he climbed into his car and drove home.
* End *
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