Chapter Twenty-Five: Christmas in the City

Alex

It takes me a minute to remember where I am in the morning. Of course once I do it takes no time to remember how I got here, or what I did last night. Your side of the bed is empty and I know you probably tried to wake me before you left for work. The jelly in my legs and the heaviness of my arms is further reminded of last night's activity. I stretch my arms slowly over my head and feel a smile crawling across my lips. As I feel my body becoming a little more… solid, I turn to find an iris on your pillow next to me. I swear no one would ever believe how much of a romantic you are. I pull the blossom to my lips, breathing in its fragrance. You can keep your roses and carnations, I'll take an iris any day. I try to convince my body to move and feel a twinge of hunger.

Hauling myself out of bed I stumble lazily into the kitchen and open the fridge to find a bowl of pancake batter waiting for me with a note.

"A-

Thought you might be hungry. Please don't burn down the stove. Medium heat on the griddle until cooked. Stir it up a bit and it should be perfect. Blueberries in the fruit drawer, chocolate chips in the cupboard.

Love,

O."

I grin, not bothering to take offense at the implication that I can't cook. It's true that I set my own stove on fire, but I'm much more careful at your apartment. Besides, how badly can I screw up pancakes?

An hour later I have two edible pancakes and one slightly singed potholder. I throw away the slightly distorted spatula and light a candle to help dispel the scent of burnt plastic. Ok, no more cooking for me. At least I didn't actually set anything on fire. Well- other than the potholder, but that was so minimal. I'm never going to live this down. I'm just fishing up my breakfast when the phone rings.

"Is my apartment still standing?"

"Very funny." I pitch the black corned potholder into the trash with the spatula and make a note to buy a new one before you get home from work. I clean up the remaining mess and move to the bathroom, dropping your terry robe on the floor as I step into a hot shower. When I'm washed and dressed and my hair once again resembles something other than a rat's nest I call for a cab and head downstairs. Two hours later I'm back at the apartment with a stack of realty pages, a new spatula and potholder, a new rug and a present for you. I lay the new rug out in the living room, and am disappointed that it doesn't go as well as I anticipated. Oh well, it'll do until we have a new apartment to put it in. With that thought I spread out the papers and guides on the table next to my cup of decaf coffee. If I'd looked in the cupboard before I left I'd have known to buy some regular beans. I wonder if you'll ever let me go back to regular or if you're going to spend the rest of our lives being worried about one little tick of my heart.

I flip through one paper, then another, circling properties and making notes until I hear your distinctive footfalls outside the door. I hurry to make sense of my piles, pitching the useless papers into the trash and stretching the stiffness from my limbs as I go to meet you at the door.

"Hey baby, how was your day?"

"Slow, thankfully. We ended up doing paperwork most of the day, finished up a couple of cases, and testified for Casey about an hour ago. You know I almost don't even care if she wins anymore."

You scrub a hand through your hair and tip your head up for a kiss.

"What have you been up to?" You sniff the air and grin, "How were your pancakes? Is that a vanilla candle? Oh lord, how many spatulas did you melt this time?"

I look at you over the top of my glasses and cuff you gently upside the head.

"Just one. -- And a potholder. But both have been replaced, as has the living room rug. You ready to look at some apartment listings? You have off tomorrow right? So we can do some hunting around the precinct? I found a couple of decent-sounding places right near the station, and a few a little further out, but still within easy walking distance from the courthouse and the station."

Olivia

Well, I expected you to want a quick start to apartment shopping, but I was really hoping that this weekend I could find a way to leave you to your own devices so Elliot and I can work on getting things put together at the penthouse. I have Christmas decorations to buy, and I have to get the floor finished, at least in the living room. I try not to pause too long before answering dismissively, "Actually, I promised Elliot I'd help him out at his new place this weekend. Sorry Lex, I promised before I knew you'd be here for Christmas." The lie leaves my lips easily enough, but I hate to do it-- especially when I see the look on your face.

"I guess I'll look without you then. Unless I can help at the apartment."

"Nope, construction type stuff. He wants me to help him refinish the floors. Trust me, you'd hate it." Ok, so it's not exactly a lie.

"Well fine, I'll look for apartments and finish up my Christmas shopping. OH! By the way I got you something." You disappear into the kitchen and return with something clasped in your closed hand.

"Turn around."

I spin around, and feel you taking off the little gold necklace you gave me all those years ago. "What are you doing? That's…" I feel a new weight, a similar heft on my neck. I look down to see an almost identical necklace, in silver.

"What's this?"

"I thought it went better with your ring. Gold and silver together are so over. I wanted you to match."

I lift the delicate rectangular charm, fingering the engraving. It's different than the old one. "What does it say?"

"The back still has our initials, but now the front reads, 'bonheur éternel'. It seemed… appropriate."

"Eternal Bliss. Very appropriate. Thank you." I turn back to face you and wrap my arms around you. "Have I mentioned yet that I love you?"

"Not while I was awake."

"Well then, I love you."

"Good. Ready for a little quid pro quo?"

I lift my eyebrows, "What?"

"I believe I owe you a little… favor from last night?" You wink and lead me back to the bedroom. I could definitely get used to this kind of greeting after work.

Alex

By the time Christmas Eve rolls around I'm starting to get a little annoyed. You've spent most of your time of at Elliot's new apartment, which I have yet to see and I've spent far more of this visit on my own than I'd like. I try to stay chipper as I look at apartment after apartment, wishing you'd get involved. I don't want to make any offers without you, but I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever be able to get you away form Elliot's home repair projects and out to help me find a place.

I take a cab out to Long Island in the morning on the 24th, stopping at the house to leave the gift I bought for mother in Oregon. Today I'm a little relieved you wanted to spend the day helping Elliot build a wall or whatever it is you two are doing, because I know you wouldn't want me to go to Cabot Castle at all, much less without your protection.

When George lets me in I wander through the house, waiting for mother to finish her business call. The butler has informed me curtly that mother will be at least half an hour, and I take the time to head up the sweeping staircase, turning the handle of the door to my childhood bedroom. I step inside and examine the space with my adult eyes, with my engaged to be married eyes, with my someday I may be a mother eyes. It's too fancy for a child, too fancy even for a teenager. The walls are the palest trace of pink, not cotton candy but more of an elegant crystal pink. The furniture is handcrafted, delicate and fanciful. I move to my desk, looking at the notebooks that line the matching bookcase. Even as a kid I was obsessed with books, writing. My shelves are lined with true-crime novels, murder mysteries and a few of my legal texts from college. I pick up the framed photograph of mother and I from my Harvard Graduation ceremony. I stare at my mothers face, lit with pride as I hold my law-school diploma up for the camera. Trevor stands in the background making faces as the flash snaps. I search my mother's face for a trace of the cold stranger she became after daddy died, of the heartless woman she became when I feel in love with you.

I jump at the touch on my shoulder, and turn to see her steel blue eyes staring me down as I wipe a tear from my cheek.

"What do you want Alexandra? This isn't a good time." Her voice is cold, and I don't know why I'm surprised. I didn't expect her to welcome me with open arms.

"I just… I wanted to bring you your Christmas present."

"Olivia let you buy me a gift? How generous of her. How much did she have to drink when you asked for permission?"

I struggle to control the flash of anger that crosses my consciousness. I take a deep breath and respond calmly,

"Olivia doesn't drink anymore mother, you know that. And I don't need her permission to buy a gift. She doesn't control my life mother, she complements it. Not that you'd know, or care."

Her gaze is firm, icy and she regards me unblinkingly.

"Very well Alexandra, what is it you couldn't resist giving me?"

I'm not ready for that. I hold up the picture, turning slightly away from her again to look around at the artwork on my walls. "Do you remember this day mom? Do you remember when I graduated and you made daddy take this picture? How he wanted one of all three of us and you said he'd have to wait because mothers and daughters came before anyone else in the world?

"Look at the picture mother, look at your face, the way you were looking at me." My voice cracks, "when did you stop seeing me that way? Was it really all because of Liv? Or did it happen before that? You knew what I was before I did, didn't you? Isn't that when it started? When you finally realized I wasn't going to fall for Trevor?"

I turn back to see surprise and then dismay register in her eyes.

"Did you think I wouldn't remember mother? The way you nearly disowned me when I refused Trevor's advances? Do you remember when I came to you, told you he'd tried to force himself on me? Do you remember what you said mother?"

She has the good sense to look ashamed, a blush crawling over her alabaster cheeks.

"I remember mother. You told me I should feel lucky. That not every woman could find as promising a man as Trevor Langan. He practically raped me, until I kneed him in the balls, and you told me I should feel lucky." I can't help the tears that start to spill over, remembering something I've pushed back for almost ten years. My mother stretches out a hand, trying to make contact as I whip out of her reach. "Don't you dare. Don't you ever touch me. You gave up the right to touch me a long time ago. You can't decide to stop being my mother and then change your mind because you feel guilty. It doesn't work like that." I know I'm getting worked up and I want to stop, to calm down. I want to face her like a rational person but memory and anger and pain floods through me, and I feel myself tumbling down a hill of emotion with my brake lines cut. Now that I've started I can't stop.

"When did you figure it out mom? When did it first occur to you that I wasn't going to meet a nice guy and settle down? It was before Olivia wasn't it? Why didn't you just talk to me, instead of pretending it wasn't happening, making me struggle through it on my own? Do you know how scared I was when I figured out why I didn't like Trevor, aside from the fact that even as a teenager he was a total sleaze. It was more than that wasn't it? You knew there was more, that it wasn't that I didn't like Trevor, it was that I didn't like men. Why didn't you ask me… talk to me? I was miserable for years, confused. I worked my ass off trying to make you proud, to make you happy. The whole time I was flipping out up here, pacing around my room trying to tell myself I wasn't feeling the things I was feeling.

"I needed you. I needed my mother. I needed her." I jab at the picture of my smiling, supportive mother before throwing the frame and photo across the room, listening to the crackling glass as it hits the wall.

I pause my raving, sitting on the edge of my old bed letting my tears wash over me. When I regain some semblance of control I speak again, "When I met Olivia, I was so happy. Happy because finally there was someone else like me, not just that but there was someone else like me who… loved me. The first night, when I called you after Olivia went home I wanted to tell you about her, wanted to tell you about how I finally felt normal again. I wanted you to be happy for me, for us. But I knew somehow that you wouldn't be." I scoff, "Isn't it sad? How well I knew, even without asking."

I feel my tears stopping, my breath returning. "You know, I don't know why I came here. What was I hoping to accomplish? Here's your gift mother. I don't… I don't actually care if you like it."

I turn and flee the room, anxious to put this visit behind me. As I hit the top of the stairs I turn, peering back to see my mother sit heavily on the bed the package forgotten on the pillow. She leans and picks the photo from the floor, brushing carefully at broken glass. I shift, turning on the ball of my foot and watch her pull the photo from the frame, and I swear I can see tears falling from her eyes. I wish I could say I felt softened by this sudden emotion, but to me it just seems too little too late. I finish my exit, and call a cab from my cell phone, wanting to get back home, back to you. Wanting to put this behind me and move on. Why do I keep subjecting myself to this?

Maybe this time I'll be able to give it up for good. Take your advice and look forward instead. Of course that would work a lot better if you'd actually go apartment hunting with me. I shove my mother out of my mind and head home preparing arguments to get you out and shopping with me after Christmas. I'm surprised to find you waiting for me when I get back to your apartment. You're dressed in the slacks I gave you for your birthday, and an actual blouse… wait-- are you wearing a suit? I don't have time to scrutinize as you slip a blindfold over my eyes.

Olivia

I grin as you walk in the door and begin to register that I'm wearing a suit. I don't give you time to ask about it though, quickly wrapping the silky blindfold around your eyes. You make a surprised squeak and I can't suppress a laugh at your momentary distress.

"What on earth are you doing?"

I place a finger against your lips, making a shushing sound. "It's a surprise."

I guide you through the apartment to the bedroom, and I see a lustful grin spread across your lips as I start to unbutton your pants. I know what you think is happening and I'm getting no end of amusement drawing out this event. You shiver slightly as the cool air meets your skin, and as I lift your arms over your head you quiver, expecting something you aren't going to get. I try not to laugh out loud at your disappointed chirp as you feel a dress sliding over your head and brushing against your skin. Its satiny fabric flows and stretches perfectly around you, flaring and clinging around your curves in a perfect complement to your natural beauty.

I sit you on the bed and peel the socks from your feet, pausing to gently massage your tired soles before I strap on slinky sandals. Your feet will be a little cold while we go to our destination, but I've got the heat working perfectly so once we're there you should be fine. I wrap my heaviest leather coat around your shoulders, guiding your arms through the sleeves then pulling you onto your feet and leading you back towards the door.

"Where are we going?"

"I told you… it's a surprise." You clutch my arm with your free hand, nervous about this lack of control. I'm careful with you, treating you gingerly as I lead you to the elevator which is mercifully functional for once. You make a few more half-assed attempts to ruin the surprise but I'm not budging, not even when you make a particularly tempting move involving your tongue and my earlobe that nearly weakens my resolve.

Luckily for me the elevator doors slide open to reveal a waiting Elliot, who has been kind enough to offer us a ride to the penthouse, in addition to have spent most of the last three days helping me prepare this surprise. He's worked his butt off, even chipping in some cash when I ran embarrassingly low during my last paint run. There's still a lot to do, but I was determined to at least have the common areas, living room, kitchen, one bathroom mostly finished by now. For the most part I've succeeded, although there's still a lot to do. Still I have enough done that I think you'll see what I saw when I looked at it the first day. We've accomplished a lot in five short days, and I'm proud of the work I've done, the work Elliot and I have done.

My partner drives in silence as agreed, and I can feel you sitting tensely beside me in the backseat. I give your hand a squeeze and catch Elliot grinning at us in the rearview. I smile back and mouth a thank you as he drops us at the complex doors.

"Don't move." I take my hand away so I can unlock the door, then reclaim your hand and lead you to the elevator (which is always working). When we reach the top floor I plant you in the hallway, outside the door. I unlock our newly repainted door and open it, tossing my keys in my pocket before I lead you inside. I position you in the middle of the living room, the space redefined after the addition of the separator wall between it and the kitchen. When you're standing exactly where I want you, your face turned towards the large window I kiss you gently on the lips, then whisper, "Close your eyes."

I gently take off the blindfold, cupping my hand over your eyes just in case, as I move to the side-- wanting to be able to see you as you get your first view of our new home.

Alex

"Close your eyes." You whisper breathily in my ear as your hand replaces the satiny fabric of my blindfold over my lidded eyes. You shift to the side of me, and I wonder what sight is going to greet me when I'm finally allowed to look again. I figured you must have rented a special hotel room, or that maybe we've gone back to Tonio's for a special dinner.

"Ok, open."

I blink against the dim yellow light, and realize I'm staring out of an enormous window overlooking most of New York City. In the early winter darkness I'm left breathless at the twinkling cityscape, and it takes me a minute to look somewhere other than the window. I turn my head, away from where you stand beside me, taking in the large wood-floored room, turning to look at the slate blue walls and beautiful architecture.

"What is this?" I finally turn to see you, noticing the tears that are welling in your eyes. Happy tears?

You take my hand and lead me back out the door, closing it and pointing to the nameplate, a beautiful silver plaque that reads, "Cabot & Benson. Apt. 500"

"It's our new apartment."

"What? Liv, this place is… it's huge. How on earth did you get the money for this place?"

"It's a fixer-upper. They knocked quite a bit off of the asking bid and lowered the rent when they heard all the improvements I was going to make." You lead me back inside and gesture to the floor, the walls. "You should have seen these on Friday when I signed the lease. You'll get an idea of it when you see the other rooms. I would have liked to have it all finished when you got here but I couldn't wait to show it to you."

Suddenly the last few days make a lot more sense. "So this is what you've been doing?" I notice our little blue rug in the kitchen. "So you weren't helping Elliot, he was helping you."

You nod and I watch a proud smile grace your lips. "What do you think?"

"Olivia it's… amazing. I love it. How did you do all of this without me? It's perfect!"

"I knew, as soon as the realtor let me in I just knew it was the perfect space." You take my hand and lead me around the apartment on a tour. I watch you getting more and more excited as you show me all the features of the space. The kitchen is as impressive as the living room and I can't believe you've managed to get us this place. It's an incredibly rare find in the city, spacious and interesting, with amazing character, even before the improvements are all finished. I'm so taken with the apartment itself that I don't notice the tree at first. There's a massive fir in one corner of the living room, across from our beautiful working fireplace, another rare find. The tree is lit with tiny white lights and draped with elegant blue ribbon and delicate silver balls. Like everything else in the room it's beautiful, the blue ribbon matching perfectly with the blue-toned walls.

I reach to pull you into me as I kiss you deeply in appreciation.

"I love it, and I love you." We sink into each other's mouths, playing for dominance as you lead me into the master bedroom, the last stop on our tour. Lit candles line the room and in the center is a small stack of down comforters surrounded by scattered rose petals. You start to guide me down below you, but tonight it's my turn to show you my appreciation.

Olivia

I watch you taking in this place, watch you falling in love with the place I've picked for us. I'm not surprised, but I do have a momentary feeling of intense relief. I wasn't aware I was nervous about your reaction until I saw it. But I watch as you turn, taking in the walls and the floor and this incredible view, I watch as tears well in your own eyes, your surprise and pleasure and contentment spreading through your face, making your lips turn, your eyes shine.

You pull me into your body and kiss me deeply.

"I love it, and I love you."

I lead you back to the master bedroom, the one room I've kept closed during our tour. I've taken special care to make this space feel warm and romantic despite it's size. The pale brick glows with the candlelight and the scent of roses fills the air. I start to sink down on top of you on the soft mess of comforters I've laid out but you stop me, turning so that you rest above me, pulling my arms from my coat and unbuttoning my shirt, kissing your way down my neck and chest as you reveal my uncovered breasts, my naked skin waiting for your touch.

You kiss my belly button, then free me from my slacks and gently tease my panties from my hips, trailing kisses down my leg from my thigh to my ankle, and I point my toes at the softness of your lips on my body. You crouch above me, and cross your arms, grabbing at the hem of your dress and pulling it smoothly over your head, casting it carefully aside, making sure you don't set anything ablaze accidentally. Now naked you lean over me, your breasts brushing against mine as your lips find mine, and your tongue plays with mine delicately, dancing inside my mouth. You shift your body so that your on your hands and knees above me, and the sight of you hovering above me brings a familiar wetness to my thighs as you place one knee against the source of my heat. I moan as you shift again slightly, the pressure of your knee between my legs a delicious torment, an exquisite complement to the feeling of your breasts that hang heavily against mine below you. I move my body, trying to find a deeper contact with the knee I'm straddling.

You smile against our kiss and modify your body's position so that your resting more comfortably above me, your knee moving away from the place where my legs meet, replaced at last by the hand that's been moving slowly down my body. I moan as you finally place a finger against my opening, stroking gently against the outside of my center until I groan, needing more. You grin, pulling away from my lips and looking into my eyes.

"Is there a problem, Detective?" Your voice is light, taunting… and I moan again, needing something other than teasing.

"Please Alex… touch me."

Your hand makes another run along my slit and I shiver, "I am touching you. See…" You trace a long line up, carefully steering just clear of my clit, allowing your fingers to play further up, tweaking my now-hard nipple before moving back to rest between my legs once again, using the back of your hand to brush against my sex.

"Lexi…" my voice is strained, barely a whisper against your skin. My need is painful and I don't know how much longer I can wait. "god Alex, please."

You kiss me again, plunging your tongue forcefully into my mouth, mimicking the motions I wish you'd take below and using them instead against my lips, my tongue. Your hand rests still painfully close without giving any relief. I squirm under you, trying to shift my body down, trying to force your hand inside me, but you pull away again, and break our kiss.

There's a flood of pleasure in your eyes, and your lust is obvious, but still you tease. "Please what Livvy?"

We've played this game before and my line escapes my lips without effort, "fuck me." My body jumps beneath you as you finally press yourself beyond my folds, the sudden warmth of your hand, your fingers inside of me bringing on the first wave of release, the sudden relief of your long soft fingers stroking inside me making my body buck in pleasure, my moan stolen from my lips as you mirror the motions with your tongue, once more claiming my mouth. Your hand is still, giving me a moment to recover from my orgasm before you begin moving inside me, reaching and tickling against my walls, your thumb finally finding my swollen clit as my breath catches in my throat, this sudden ecstasy stealing oxygen from my lungs. I move my hand, trying to reach between our bodies to touch you, to sink into you but you stop me, moving out of my reach as you slide down the length of my body, your hair tickling my skin even as your lips trace an hasty line towards the place where your hand moves more quickly inside me, and I struggle to control myself as I approach a second breech. Suddenly your mouth is working with your fingers, the heat of your breath bringing words again to my lips without effort,

"Jesus Alex. Don't stop please… just… don't stop."

You place a kiss on my shaven skin and then withdraw your fingers, replacing them with your tongue as I lose control for the second time, this time letting my head get lost in the sensation of my orgasm, feel heat surging through my body as I lose track of how many times you bring me over the edge… again and again and again.

I'm not sure when I fell asleep, but I wake to the scent of extinguished candles and turn my head to see you sleeping heavily next to me, a ridiculously lecherous grin left on your lips. I don't bother trying to move, my body is done… at least until tomorrow. I bring my watch up in front of my eyes, seeing that it's actually Christmas morning, if only by a minute. I turn back and whisper into your hair,

"Merry Christmas Alex."