Chapter 6: Tidings of Comfort and Joy
Dillingham Residence, Georgetown
Friday, 24 December
12 noon
Elizabeth put the last of the supplies away, then turned to survey her handiwork. It's been awhile, she thought, but I think it will do nicely. It's certainly been good therapy.
The last month had been interesting, to say the least; while her future brother-in-law had been busy shaking up the local real estate market and getting himself ready for a major step forward, she'd been fighting just to stay steady.
The nightmares had continued for a week; but this time she was true to her word. Unless Myles had been in the middle of an operation, she called. Even if he wasn't available, she'd left a message on his voicemail, and he'd called her back as soon as he could. It hadn't made for a whole lot of sleep for either of them, but it had drawn them closer than she'd ever thought possible. And I'm glad he finally taught me that little military trick of being able to fall asleep under just about any circumstances, then be alert within ten seconds when needed.
By the time the nightmares tapered off, Elizabeth was deep in racking her brain for an appropriate Christmas present. She'd finished most of the rest of her list; since they were going to spend most of it with his family, she'd purchased a number of small gifts that were considered generally appropriate, since at this point she knew only his parents.
In reality, she was relieved that they would make only a brief appearance at her grandfather's house; she only wished she knew Myles' family well enough to invite Connie along as well. She'd told her sister as much the last time they'd chatted online; but Connie had told her to quit worrying and just enjoy herself.
It's not like I have to listen to them anyway, she'd quipped. Besides, I have a new friend who is going to rescue me from Christmas Day at the mausoleum, anyway.
Her sister had refused to divulge any further information until after New Year's, and Elizabeth had threatened to call at 12:01 am on January first. They'd laughed and chatted for about two hours— the conversation had been wonderful therapy as well.
But it still left her at a loss for a Christmas present for Myles; she had one small gift in mind, but since it was going to be their first Christmas together, she wanted something a little "grander" as well. Then, Sam had given her a wonderful idea one evening, while she peppered him with questions. And while she could have simply purchased it, she had decided to turn it into therapy as well. Sam had a friend who had done the design work, and she had finished it herself.
Now, she placed a fingertip against the surface, where it wouldn't show, and checked to see if it was completely dry. The process had been a little more difficult this time, since she was wearing latex gloves that would leave behind no clues, but it had been wonderful to get back into it.
Now I just have to get it over to his house before he gets home and we have to leave for the airport. As she closed the supply cabinet, she heard the doorbell ring upstairs. Double-checking to make sure the last piece was right where she could find it when she came back, she headed up the stairs.
"Hey, neighbor." Sam leaned against her porch railing, grinning broadly against the light snow that was falling down. "Looks to be a white Christmas after all, huh?" His arms were filled with what appeared to be several boxes of cookies or other edibles.
Elizabeth returned the smile. "Come on in, Sam. You look like a man on a mission. What's all this?"
"Little neighborly gesture," he shrugged. "Just working my way around the block. That's what you're supposed to do, right?"
She laughed softly at the earnestness in his eyes. "Well, it's not required, but it's certainly a nice thing to do to establish yourself in the neighborhood. Did you make all this?"
He chuckled, the blond hair dipping into his eyes as he shook his head. "Are you kidding? As much fun as I think it would be, the only thing Gregory allows me to touch in the kitchen is the coffeemaker. And he had to 'certify' me on that."
Elizabeth gave him a playful look. "I guess you'll just have to charm Tara into letting you cook, once you get around to marrying her."
She'd expected the bright blue eyes, the greatest difference in the twins, to widen in shock or embarrassment at her teasing. Instead, Sam set his packages down on her kitchen counter, then leaned against the island and gave her rather a solemn look.
"What would you say if I told you I'd thought about proposing to her tonight— Christmas Eve?"
Her breath drew in fast, but she tried to keep her face from showing it. "I… Sam, that's wonderful."
"Uh-huh." He nailed her with that azure gaze again. "Come on, Liz; you think I can't read shrink-speak after all this time?" Now he smiled slightly. "Don't worry; I said I'd thought about it, not that I was going to actually do it."
The psychologist smiled at him. "I didn't mean to imply it was a bad idea, Sam. It's just that—"
"I've made enough changes in my life recently to choke an elf, and I need to take a breath and let myself adjust this far before I start planning a commitment of that magnitude." He rattled it off, folding his arms across his chest. "How'd I do?"
Elizabeth laughed. "Okay, okay. Why do you even bother with a therapist any more? You already know all the answers."
That totally open blue gaze struck her once more. "When I know all the answers, then I'll put that ring on Tara's finger." Then the grin resurfaced, and he was all Sam again. "Sooo, how'd the big project turn out? Do I get a preview, since I did hook you up with genius designer Antonio?"
Her laugh echoed again. "Antonio, huh? He told me his given name is 'plain, pure-Bronx Tony.' Only you ever call him Antonio."
Sam shrugged. "Hey, with the caliber of work he does, he needed a classier name. Now, let's see what you did with his start."
Five minutes later, he stood back as she added the final touch. "It's a thing of beauty, Liz," he said softly. "Myles is gonna love it."
"Want to help me get it over to his house?" she asked. "I'm not sure where to 'hide' it, though. Maybe the dining room?"
"Hmmm..." Sam kept his voice casual and his stance easy. "How about in the study? That's where he keeps the Strad."
"Good idea." Elizabeth glanced at her watch. "Ooops; we'd better hurry. He said he'd be home by 2, and we have a flight to catch. Everything else is already in the car."
"I still don't understand why you two won't join us on the Citation," Sam commented. "There's plenty of room, and we can fly right into Hyannis. Save you a ninety-minute drive."
"Yes, it would," she replied. "But you all are stopping at Tara's folks' first; you don't need an audience. Plus, we have to stop at my grandfather's place, for as briefly as I can manage without being rude, and then Myles said there was another stop we had to make on the way to your grandmother's house. Some big mystery, apparently, because he's been as closed-mouthed about it as a Nantucket scallop."
Her comment brought a laugh from Sam. "Now, there's a local epithet I haven't heard since I was, like, twelve."
"My grandmother Cortland used to say it," she giggled in reply. "The normal side of the family. I miss her; she's been gone for nearly ten years now. We used to spend summers at their cottage in Falmouth." A far-away look had come into her eyes.
Sam stepped over to her and folded her into a hug. "Well, soon-to-be sis, you're about to re-live a good old-fashioned Cape Cod holiday; the Lelands are known for it. We'll see how well I can pull it off as well." At her raised brows, he shrugged a bit. "Just still a bit awkward with Dad. I think in some ways he still feels guilty, and in others still isn't quite sure what to do with me. It'll come."
Elizabeth hugged him tightly. "I'll tell you a secret, Sam. This is the first Christmas in years I'm truly looking forward to. Let's go collect our respective Special Agents and get started."
Delta Flight 604, out of Dulles Airport
Friday, 3 p.m.
"You really did all the finish work on my music stand yourself." There was still a touch of awe in the baritone voice as Myles lifted her hand to his lips.
Elizabeth smiled at him. "Why is that so hard to believe? You were right beside me when we ripped out carpet and repainted walls in my bedroom. It's not like it's the first piece of woodwork I've refinished, just the most intricate. Tony did a phenomenal job on the design. And it's proportioned right to be comfortable, isn't it?"
"It's perfect," he murmured against her fingers. They were settled in their first-class seats for the flight to Boston. "I don't mean that I didn't think you could do it. It's just that I don't think I've ever received a gift that someone put so much of themselves into."
She leaned against his shoulder, recalling the look on his face as he'd pulled the cover off the music stand. The hand-carved mahogany, which she had stained and varnished to enhance both the natural beauty of the wood and the delicate design work, had glowed in the soft lamplight of the study.
An intricate music staff, with the opening notes of "Silent Night," swept across the easel portion of the stand, and subtly-carved notes wound their way down the support. Using Sam as a "yardstick," the woodcarver had worked it so that the stand could be adjusted for either a standing or sitting position, without breaking the beauty of the design. A small brass plaque completed the effect: Let the music speak for itself. Merry Christmas, my love.
"I'm glad you like it," she whispered, moving her hand up to his cheek. "Sam was very smooth, by the way, suggesting putting it in the study. I didn't have a clue about my piano hiding in the dining room. Although I'm starting to get worried, if we're able to come up with almost the same engraving: 'Let the music speak for itself. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.' But I love it— thank you."
He smiled. "Sam tried to tell me a baby grand wouldn't fit in there. He hasn't been in a music store lately. I swear, I think they have Schroeder-sized ones now."
She laughed, raising the armrest between them and snuggling as close to him as the seatbelt would allow. "Snoopy will be very happy to hear that, I'm sure."
Logan Airport, Boston
Friday, 4:30 pm
If there'd been any embarrassment on her part of packing all their stuff together in his carry-on, it vanished as they navigated their way through the busy terminal. They would make the car rental desk in record time.
She carried their collection of gifts in her carry-on; in the interest of potential security checkpoints, the only one she'd wrapped was the small box in her coat pocket. The anticipation of that one gift was enough to have her humming as they threaded their way through the crowd.
When they reached the "famous" kinetic sculptures that marked the terminal entrances, however, a single comment in her ear doused her mood as effectively as a bucket of ice water.
"Isn't that your mother? And Connie?" Myles asked.
Elizabeth looked where he pointed, and bit back a groan. Sure enough, there stood her mother, with an expression of severe distaste on her face. Connie Dillingham stood next to her, obviously uncomfortable about whatever had them here.
As they approached, Connie took a step back out of her mother's sight-line and signed CAREFUL, MOM WET CHICKEN MAKE MAD MORE.
Myles leaned over to murmur in her ear again. "I think I misread something. She said your mother is a chicken?"
She glanced over and caught the twinkle in his eyes; he knew full well what Connie had signed, and was simply trying to lighten the mood.
Elizabeth smiled slightly. "I wish." She stepped forward and gave her mother a brief hug. "Mother. This is certainly a surprise."
HI SISTER, Connie signed. HI M-Y-L-E-S. MERRY CHRISTMAS. Her smile was a touch strained.
"Good heavens, Constance. Do stop flailing your hands around so. We didn't send you to the finest speech therapists in Boston to have you carrying on like some mime on a street corner."
The disdain in Mary Dillingham's voice struck a chord in Myles; he hadn't realized just how right he had been in his comment to Bobby. He visibly bristled, ready to tell the woman a thing or two, until Connie caught his arm. IGNORE MOTHER, she signed, rolling her eyes slightly. ME IGNORE PRACTICE MUCH. ALL O-K. WORSE MAKE NOT ELIZABETH
He smiled in understanding, and deliberately responded to her in ASL. MERRY CHRISTMAS, CONNIE. GOOD I-SEE-YOU AGAIN.
Mary pointedly ignored the exchange until he finished signing. "Myles."
"Mrs. Dillingham," he replied. "It's good to—"
"Elizabeth, what is the meaning of this?" Mary cut him off abruptly, pulling a piece of newspaper out of her purse. "You make a huge issue out of not announcing your engagement, and then I find it in The Globe."
The psychologist visibly cringed, but she tried to keep her voice calm. "Mother, believe me, it wasn't our idea."
"Well," her mother huffed, "after all you went on about that Graham person, and now your engagement is splashed all over the news. Next you'll be telling me not to announce a date. You have set a date, haven't you?"
Elizabeth glanced an apology at Myles and Connie. "Excuse us for a minute," she said, signing at the same time. She then took her mother by the arm and led her over to a nearby bench. "Mother…"
Their voices faded from Myles' hearing, and he looked at Connie. BAD DAY? He signed, furrowing his brow in question. He'd picked up the appropriate facial expressions as well, though he sometimes got them confused still.
His future sister-in-law's breath came out in a laugh. MOTHER SAME DAY, she replied. COMPLAIN NO, HAPPY NO. NEWSPAPER MONDAY MOTHER SEE – HER EXPLODE. She watched him laugh at the magnitude of her "explosion." DRIVE AIRPORT WENT HER. ELIZABETH HOME COME HER WAIT NOT. PROTECT YOU, SISTER I COME ALSO. She glanced over at the rather heated discussion taking place, then back at him. O-K. PROTECT YOU-YOU I COME. Her pointing became a bit of a jab for emphasis.
He chuckled in return. THANK YOU.
They chatted for a few minutes more, and she smiled at him. IMPROVE MUCH YOUR SIGN. READY SOON FOR SILENT DINNER YOU.
His eyes widened, and he had to consciously avoid taking a step back. THAT GOOD MY SIGN NOT YET.
She shook her head, reading his body language easily. AFRAID YOU. DEAF NOT SCARY, GIVE GOOD TRY YOU. GOOD PRACTICE.
"Constance!" Mary and Elizabeth had rejoined them, and neither looked particularly happy. Mary turned to Myles, her dark eyes snapping. "Myles, I would much appreciate it if you would not encourage my daughter in the continued use of that primitive, archaic sign language of hers. She knows how to speak. Bad enough that Elizabeth coddles her; I would appreciate it if you would not."
He glanced at Elizabeth; the look on her face said Go for it, love. Give her both barrels.
Myles took a breath; antagonizing the woman further wouldn't help matters, but he felt he needed to speak. "Mrs. Dillingham," he said gently, "I'm sorry you feel that way. But I'm learning American Sign Language myself. And contrary to your statement, I find it anything but primitive. It is a complex, very beautiful language, and one day I'll be proud to list it next to the French, Russian and Chinese that I currently can communicate in as well."
Now his voice gained a bit of strength as he pushed a point across. "And, by the way, American Sign Language saved Elizabeth's life a few months back. It, and the manual alphabet, helped her let us know where she was and how to get to her before Evan Graham could do any more damage to her than he did. That, and the lip-reading ability of a deaf colleague of mine. Connie was gracious enough to let me get in a bit of practice, that's all." He smiled at the redhead. "For which I'm grateful."
Mary's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing further. "We'll be headed home, then." She walked away, her heels clicking forcefully on the tile floor.
Connie raised a brow at Elizabeth, who simply shrugged and shook her head. I SORRY I, she signed. this-year i can't go, not after problem with mother.
Her sister nodded. I UNDERSTAND I, she replied. DON'T WORRY. TALK LATER HER-ME. ME HIT MAYBE WITH FRYING PAN. She grinned broadly. OR SILVER TEA SET, GRANDFATHER HOUSE.
The sly comment brought a sharp breath out, and Elizabeth smiled slightly. ENJOY. DETAIL LATER ME WANT. She gave her sister a big hug, then took Myles' arm and said, "Let's find that rental car. We just gained at least two hours' free time on this trip."
- for those not versed in traditional New England idioms, the ASL translates to "Mom's madder than a wet hen"
Cataumet, Massachusetts
6:15 p.m.
"Okay, you were right. Edith is a complete doll." Elizabeth waited for him to open the car door for her. "And you are the most delightfully devious person I know. Bobby's never figured it out, huh?"
"Nope." He smiled. "And I'm counting on you and Tara to keep it that way."
NO PROBLEM, she signed. YOUR SECRET SAFE. Then she reached up to touch his cheek. "Although, after this holiday season, do you think you can maintain your 'Scrooge' image?"
Myles sighed dramatically. "It will be a stretch, I'm afraid, but I'll make the sacrifice." He kissed her forehead as she laughed. "Feeling better now? You were positively steaming on the drive down. I didn't bother turning on the defroster."
She swatted at him as he offered a hand to seat her. When they were back on the road, she turned in her seat. "Oh, Mother just really made me mad. She's been after me to get married for so many years, and now that it's finally happening, suddenly I'm eighteen again and can't make any decisions on my own. And all that about the announcement in the paper; you'd think I had stuck a knife in her heart, what little of one she has."
He glanced over at her sharply. "You don't really mean that."
"Yes, I do." At his continued gaze, her eyes dropped and she sighed. "No, I don't; I just watch her with Connie, and think back over all the grief she's given me about every aspect of my life… at least Grandfather focused on just one thing; that I can tune out. Do you know she just about went ballistic when I told her that we had the final say on the magnitude of the guest list? If she had her way, every socialite in the state of Massachusetts would be there."
Myles chuckled. "Between your mother and my grandmother, we'll have to rent out the Kennedy Center for the reception. I think I could talk Sam into springing for it."
She rolled her eyes, though a smile was twitching at her lips. "Oh, no. If I can stand up to my mother, you get to rein in 'Grand Maggie.' You don't want a circus like that any more than I do." She looked up at him. "Do you?"
"Who, me?" He shot her a playful grin, then got serious. "No, sweetheart, I don't," he reassured her, taking her hand. "Besides, it wouldn't exactly help out any future undercover work if we ended up on the cover of Washington Weekly. Garrett would have my neck, and likely ship me off to Des Moines."
She laughed. "I hear Iowa is nice. Lot of snow, though."
He gave her a look, and squeezed her hand. "We have plenty of time to find some kind of a compromise as far as the guest list goes. Maybe we can just tell them to prioritize their respective lists. We might be able to whittle it down to five hundred that way."
"How about we just tell them ten apiece? That should keep them completely stressed out, and out of our hair, from now until May."
Myles looked out over the moonlit coastline, chuckling softly. "And she says I'm devious."
Myles' Grandparents' House
Falmouth, Massachusetts
7:30 pm
"Are you sure I can't help you with the dishes, Mrs. Leland?" Elizabeth leaned on the butcher block surface of the kitchen island. After a simple dinner of oyster stew and homemade rolls, the stresses of her family problems were gone, and the psychologist was relaxed. The fact that Myles was standing behind her rubbing her shoulders wasn't hurting, either.
"You're wasting your breath, sweetheart," he said. "I've been offering for years now, and she just doesn't listen."
"And none of that 'Mrs. Leland' nonsense," the old woman added with a smile. "You're going to be part of the family, so it's Gram, or if you're not comfortable with that, Rose will do just fine."
Elizabeth smiled. "I haven't called anyone 'Gram' since my Grandmother Cortland passed away ten years ago. I think I'd like that again."
Rose Leland smiled. "That's right; you're Mary's oldest, aren't you?"
"Don't remind me." The psychologist rolled her eyes. "Today has not been the pinnacle of 'family fun' with her."
Myles chuckled, squeezing her shoulders as he explained. "Mary met us at the airport this afternoon, mad as a hornet about the engagement announcement in the paper."
"As if we weren't," Elizabeth added. "It's not like we planned to give Evan Graham an engraved invitation to try to mess with our minds any more." She sighed. "I'm sorry; it's done with, my mother is as mollified as she's going to get, and I promised myself I was going to enjoy this holiday." With a smile, she leaned back against Myles and gave his grandmother a rather surprised look. "By the way; you know my mother?"
Rose smiled, and glanced over at her husband, who was grinning into his Wall Street Journal. "Well, I don't know her well, only as Edna's daughter. Your grandmother Cortland and I went to school together, a century ago or so."
"Really? I don't think she ever mentioned it. Oh, wait… she never used the name Leland, but she did talk about a girlhood friend named Rose." The psychologist thought for a minute. "Newman, right? Your maiden name?"
As his grandmother nodded, Myles let out a breath. "Wow. Talk about small world. What are the odds?"
Rose smiled, her eyes twinkling with what could have been mischief. "Oh, I think the two of you have no idea how small. I always wondered if you'd run into each other again."
"Again?" Two voices chorused it together.
The old lady smiled again, set down her dish towel and motioned them toward the living room. "I think the two of you had best come sit down. I have rather a story to refresh you on."
Myles and Elizabeth exchanged a long, puzzled glance, then he took her hand and led her over to the pile of pillows in front of the fireplace, near the tree showcased in the bay window. He settled them both on the floor, then looked at his grandmother. "You've got me guessing, too, Gram. I think I'd remember meeting Elizabeth, no matter how much time had passed."
She smiled again. "Well, let's see; you'd have been about 15, if I remember correctly. You were engrossed in staying competitive in prep school, and you were still trying so hard to reach Sam through all he'd been through. You were pretty distracted that summer."
Elizabeth gasped softly. "That's right. Gram and Granddad Cortland had a summer place down here in Falmouth. We used to spend a few weeks down here when I was a teenager. But I don't remember Myles from then, either."
"No reason you would." Myles Robert Leland I set down his paper and joined the conversation. "You were fairly wrapped up in a group of girls who all hung out together that summer."
"None of us would have noticed much," Rose continued. "Until Myles came home one afternoon soaking wet, clutching a rather bedraggled book with him."
Elizabeth looked at him. "What'd you do, decide to brave the North Atlantic?"
But Myles didn't respond; his eyes had a faraway look in them as he thought back. Then the blue-grey eyes widened in shock as he looked at her. "That was you?" As his grandmother nodded, he promptly started laughing.
Elizabeth was completely confused now. "Who was me, and what are you all talking about?"
"Do you want to tell her, Myles?" his grandfather asked.
"I think I'd better," the blond agent chuckled. At her continued gaze, he tried to contain his laughter enough to explain.
"I spent most of that summer with my nose in a book. Between trying to stay ahead for prep school, and the frustration of hitting a brick wall with my twin, reading was an escape. Plus it kept me current on my literature class list. Anyway, even though I spent most of my time reading, I had noticed one girl around the area. I never got a close look at her, but she was tall and slender, with this shoulder-length sway of jet-black hair that glowed like silk in the sun. I was fairly shy back then—"
"You?" she teased. "Never."
"You hush," he played back. "So I never spoke to her, never actually approached her. But I made it a point, as much as I could, to be where I could see her, while she was out with her friends. I never knew if she noticed, but apparently it got on her nerves a bit." Now he looked at her directly. "You used to wear your hair shoulder-length, didn't you?"
"Yes." She was still tying to remember, he could tell. "But I think I'd have noticed a tall, blond young man who hung around all the time…" Now she slowed, and her eyes got a bit wider. "No…"
Myles was chuckling again, and both his grandparents were smiling. "There was one place I liked best for reading. In between the houses down here, there's a stream that runs down to the ocean. I don't know if it's still there, but there used to be a small stone footbridge that crossed that stream. I used to sit up on the rail of that bridge, and that's exactly what I was doing one afternoon when this girl was headed to her house."
Now the emerald pools were wide, but not in shock so much as embarrassment. "Oh, no… please tell me this isn't going where I think it is."
There was sympathy in his eyes along with the laughter, but he couldn't stop now. "It was her shortest way home; I know, since I'd figured out where she lived, just not which family she was connected to. I guess she'd had enough of me, though, because as she swept by me on the bridge, she stuck out her arm and nailed me right in the shoulder. I went backwards off that railing and right into the stream. She never even stopped, never broke her stride. Ruined a perfectly good copy of Beowulf in the process."
"That wasn't… couldn't have been…" Elizabeth looked up at him, her face scarlet and her eyes pleading. "That was you?"
He nodded. "Afraid so, sweetheart." Only her mortified expression kept him from laughing again.
Rose commented then. "Elizabeth, something you should know before you decide to crawl under the Christmas tree, which is what I can tell you want to do, from your expression. Myles may have come home drenched, but he wasn't upset at all. In fact, if I recall correctly, his reaction to all of us was 'she noticed me!' But he never asked if I knew who you were, or whose family you were connected with. And I never volunteered the information."
Now she stood up, and beckoned to her husband. "I think perhaps we'll call it an early evening. Christmas morning comes awfully early around here. I know Sam and his lady friend are still on their way, but we'll see him in the morning. Myles, can you make sure that everyone gets settled? The girls can share the room at the end of the hall, if they'd like. And you and Sam can fight over the other two rooms." She smiled. "Just like you used to. It's going to be wonderful having the entire family together again at last."
"I'll take care of it, Gram." He stood and came to give her a kiss on the cheek. "And thank you for the memory. I'll make sure she doesn't crawl under the tree," he whispered.
Rose laughed softly. "Good night, then. Enjoy the solitude while you can."
She leaned against the bay window alcove, staring at the reflection of the tree lights, and the moonlit ocean beyond. The flood of memory she'd just experienced had left her reeling, and utterly embarrassed.
The warmth of his presence enveloped her even before he was close enough to touch her. Then that wonderful, completely mesmerizing baritone voice melted into her ear.
"You plan on looking at me ever again?"
The amusement in his voice made her drop her head, even as her own breath escaped in a self-deprecating laugh. Her hand came up to brush across her eyes. "Ask me again in about ten years." She shook her head, unable to repress a smile. "I was a horrible child."
Now his laughter came out, and wrapped around her as tangibly as his arms at her waist. He rested his cheek against her hair. "Somehow I doubt that."
Elizabeth turned in his arms and looked up at him at last. "I am so sorry, Myles. If I'd known—"
"What? That the geeky kid who kept shadowing you that summer would turn up twenty years later? If you could have seen that coming, I wish you'd have filled me in on it."
She laughed again. "I may have ignored you all that summer, but I do remember this: you were never 'geeky,' my love." She laid her head against his shoulder, looking out the window as she spoke. "That summer… oh, you couldn't have caught me at a worse time. You think Mom's bad with Connie now; she was an absolute tyrant when we were teenagers. And, since I was set on speaking 'Connie's language,' I wasn't exactly on her high list, either. Then we came down to Gram Cortland's, and that group of girls I was hanging out with… well, let's just say I got it from all sides about my 'weird sister.' It wasn't easy to stay supportive."
Myles let his fingers run through the silk strands of her hair. "Seems to me there's nothing easy about adolescence. You had Connie; I had Sam, or what part of him was still accessible at that point."
"That day, when we… uh, collided…" She smiled up at him. "Not only had Lana and her group been on me about Connie, but they'd noticed that there was this guy who always seemed to be hanging out near wherever I was…"
"Ah. You got a double-dose of ribbing that day." He stroked her cheek. "No wonder you let me have it. Didn't stop me, though; I just stayed a little further out of your sight-line after that."
A dark brow rose. "I had wondered where my shadow had disappeared to. Figured I'd scared him off permanently." Now the green eyes dropped, her cheeks coloring again. "There was no excuse for what I did, Myles, no matter what kind of a day I'd had. All I can do now is apologize again, and replace that copy of Beowulf."
Myles chuckled. "Already replaced it; but I think I did hold onto that copy for at least a year." He lifted her chin and gazed into the depths of her eyes. " Do you think that's the only off-the-wall incident we're ever going to have in our life together?" He took her face in his hands and brushed his lips across her mouth. "How about my having to get used to finding stockings hanging over the shower rail when I go to take a shower?" Another kiss. "Or getting yelled at because I forgot to tell you I was going out with the guys?"
Elizabeth giggled against his lips. "Dinner burnt? You bet I'll yell." Getting into the game, she returned his kiss with one of her own. "Discovering that the neatnik I was dating now can't seem to find the hamper for his socks?"
"I beg your pardon?" Another gentle kiss, and he pulled back to gaze into her eyes. "Watching as my wife glows more beautifully every day as she's carrying our child."
The green eyes widened, then softened as she kissed him again. "Watching my cool, collected, FBI agent husband fall apart as I go into labor."
"Sharing that first moment with our new baby with you."
She smiled playfully against his mouth. "2:30 am colic when you've just come home from a sting."
He chuckled. "I thought I was the cynic in this family." He kissed her again, realizing he was starting to get a little lost in her. "Watching you teaching our kids how to tie their shoes, or plant a garden."
Elizabeth was starting to feel the same thing. "Walking into the room to find you curled up with a child at each elbow, reading Green Eggs and Ham." His kisses were mesmerizing.
"Must cover Seuss before we get to Shakespeare, huh? I can deal." The next kiss fell just beneath her earlobe.
Her hands found their way into his hair. "How about overhearing you inform your daughter's first date that you have the full resources of the FBI at your disposal?" His soft laugh vibrated against her skin.
"Walks in the rain…" His fingertips drifted across her face. "Christmas mornings…"
"Dancing with you after the kids are in bed…"
"Looking back at all the mistakes we made and laughing over them…" He drew back and smiled at her. "Gee, it's been a great life, hasn't it?"
Elizabeth kissed him again. "Glorious. Let's do it all over again."
Until this point they hadn't noticed that his grandmother had switched on the radio before she retired. A song began to wind its way around them, pulling them under each other's spell…
Time, you found time enough to love
And I found love enough to hold you
So tonight I'll stir the fire you feel inside
Until the flames of love enfold you…
Her arms circled his neck, pulling him closer, ignoring the subtle warning in her head. He trailed kisses down her face and neck, finding a soft spot on her collarbone that made her gasp softly…
Layin' beside you, lost in the feeling,
So glad you opened my door. Come with me
Somewhere in the night we will know
Everything lovers can know…
She explored his face with feather-light kisses, losing herself in the feel of his arms around her, his fingers trailing over her arms, finally weaving with hers and drawing her hand against his chest…
You're my song, music too magic to end;
I'll play you over and over again…
Lovin' so warm, movin' so right,
Closin' our eyes and feelin' alive,
We'll just go on burnin' bright
Somewhere in the night… (Somewhere in the Night, Barry Manilow)
Lost… so completely lost in her scent, the feel of her skin, the heat of her breath across his throat… somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew they were headed out of control, but he couldn't seem to find the way back…
"Don't you two ever quit? Sheesh."
Myles caught his breath, opening his eyes to gaze into a pair of equally stunned emerald pools. He leaned his forehead against Elizabeth's, and breathed, "Bless you, Sam."
She laughed softly and whispered, "Amen."
The couple in the doorway were grinning, but Tara pulled Sam back into the entry for a moment. "Give them a minute, Sam," she whispered. "I think we may have just rescued them."
"But—"
"Besides," she continued, "you just missed a golden opportunity." She pointed to the chandelier over their heads, which was laced with mistletoe.
Sam blinked, then looked back at her, a mischievous smile crossing his face. "How could I have been so dense? Do forgive me, Lady MarioKart; I'm still learning the ropes, here." He pulled her into his arms and gave her a long kiss. "Better?"
"Much." She took his hand and walked back into the living area. "Recovered?" she teased her co-worker and her friend.
Elizabeth gave her a look, but her cheeks were still red. "I suppose. It's about time you two got here."
Tara laughed. "Yes, well, it turned out that my nephews are better at MarioKart than I had thought."
Myles' eyes were wide as he surveyed his twin. "You let a bunch of rug-rats beat you?"
"No." Sam's chin went up. "It merely took longer than I anticipated to endow the necessary level of humility. By the way, bro," he grinned, "I warned you about resurrecting all those old tunes. Dangerous stuff, Manilow in particular…"
The Harvard grad shot him a look. "Oh, knock it off. I didn't turn the radio on this time, anyway."
"Uh-huh."
Elizabeth decided a change of subject was in order. "So, are you two jet-lagged, or do you want a cup of tea or something before we work out the sleeping arrangements?"
But Sam obviously wasn't quite ready to give up a teasing opportunity. "You mean, besides the one you two were already working on?" The two glares he got aimed at him had him raising both hands in surrender, laughing. "Okay, okay. I was just kidding."
"I think we just need to start avoiding music of any kind for awhile." His voice held a great deal of amusement as he held her close. They were standing at the bottom of the stairs. Tara and Sam had already headed to their respective rooms.
Elizabeth snuggled close to him, laughing softly. "We do seem to have a knack for finding all the wrong songs lately." Then her gaze grew serious, yet couldn't hide the surprised wonder he saw there. "I just realized something."
"What?"
She looked up at him. "When's the last time we came that close to getting ourselves in trouble?"
Myles thought for a minute. "I'd have to say…" His eyes widened a bit. "The night I… that night that…"
Elizabeth nodded, smiling. "The night you put your dancing talent, or at least your feet, at severe risk by making me tango with you." She stopped the expected protest with a finger at his lips. "Myles… do you understand? There was no flashback this time. Now, it could simply have been because the setting is different, but I don't think so."
"Sounds like the tide of the battle is turning. In our favor." He dropped a kiss into her dark hair. "Oh, I almost forgot. I have a present for you. One I think I should give you now, while we're alone. Especially after this little victory."
She looked up at him in surprise. "You already gave me my present. Big, black, wooden box with a lot of strings attached to it, remember?"
The Harvard grad gave her a look. "If you're going to start abusing me again, I can take it back…"
She laughed. "The piano?"
Myles caught her chin in his hand. "You're just begging to be on the opposing team during tomorrow's inevitable snowball war, aren't you?"
"Where else would I be?" she teased in return. "Actually, love, I have a present for you, too." She stepped out into the entry for a moment, returning with a small box. "You want to come back near the tree?"
He held out his hand to her. "I think we've taken enough chances for one night. Sitting on the stairs seems a safe bet right now."
Her laughter rippled around him again. "Okay." She joined him on the stairs, and held out the box to him. "Merry Christmas, love."
He reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out a box as well. Handing it to her, he smiled. "Merry Christmas."
They opened the packages together; Elizabeth lifted a delicate silver chain, revealing a beautiful locket. "Myles, this is absolutely gorgeous."
"Open it."
She did so, and gasped. Inside, there was a compartment with a clear glass cover, holding several yellow rose petals with pink edges. On the opposite side, delicate engraved script spelled out Let peace begin with us. She shook her head mutely.
He looked at her, a bit puzzled at the tears forming in her eyes. "What is it, sweetheart?"
Her voice broke slightly. "Open yours."
Myles pulled the cover off the square box; inside was what appeared to be a platinum pocket-watch. He looked at her, a little confused. "But, I don't wear—"
"I know. Open it up." The tears had dropped onto her cheeks, but her eyes were glowing. "I thought perhaps it would be appropriate for the breast pocket of your suit coat— next to your heart."
He pressed the latch at the top, and the lid sprang open. Inside, a glass-topped compartment held the same soft petals, and a delicate inscription spoke the identical sentiment.
"I think it's entirely appropriate. This is starting to get spooky, though." His breath came out in a laugh as he took her hand and lifted it to his lips. "Or we're just destined to be on the same wavelength for the rest of our lives… our life."
Elizabeth slipped her arm through his as he stood, and leaned against his shoulder. "I hope so," she whispered. She was about to say something else, but a yawn interrupted her.
Smiling down at her, Myles gave her a lingering kiss on her cheek. "I think we need some sleep. You still have to make friends with Molly tomorrow, or I'm afraid we're going to have to call off the wedding."
She laughed. "I'll do my best. Sweet dreams, love."
Elizabeth drifted off to sleep, the wonder of the night's victory still alight in her heart...
She gripped her grandfather's arm as they started down the aisle. The music in the chapel swelled, and she looked toward the front. Her veil obscured her view somewhat, but she knew who was waiting for her. As they reached the front, her grandfather released her arm and placed her hand in a strong, familiar one.
Strange, she thought, I don't recall this veil being so thick. I can't even see Myles' face. But she shrugged it off as she heard the minister begin speaking.
The words of the ceremony flew by; she heard herself say "I do," and heard Myles' reply. The smooth gold band slipped onto her finger easily.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."
Her heart was pounding as his hands lifted her veil; she couldn't wait to see his face. Keeping her eyes down until the veil was completely out of the way, she then looked up— into the manic blue eyes of Evan Graham.
"You're mine, Dr. Dillingham. Now and always."...
Her scream caught in her throat as she bolted up off the bed. But some sound must have escaped, because Tara was at her side instantly.
"Liz? Liz! It's okay; it was a dream." The petite agent shook her shoulders firmly, trying to bring her back to reality.
The psychologist fought the waves of fear pouring over her, gasping for air. When she finally caught her breath, she pulled away from Tara and slammed her fists into the mattress. "What is wrong with me?" she cried out in frustration.
"Whoa, kiddo," Tara replied. "This isn't about anything wrong with you. Hang on; I think we need some reinforcements on this one."
"No." Elizabeth held out a hand as Tara got up. "It's Christmas Eve, Tara; please..."
Tara folded her arms across her chest. "I don't care if it's the day before your wedding; you promised Myles that the two of you were in this together, and that's a promise I'm not letting you back out of. Besides, something just occurred to me that we all should have thought of weeks ago."
"What?"
"You just sit tight, and you'll find out." She stepped into the hallway, only to find two doors already open, two equally tousled blond heads peering into the hallway. "Come on, guys," she quipped with a smile. "This round needs all of us."
"Ok, this is probably the strangest slumber party I've ever been to." Elizabeth was shaking, but she tried to calm her voice at least. They were all sitting on her bed, Myles with his arms around her and Sam and Tara facing her. "I don't remember screaming out loud, Tara. How did you...?"
Tara shrugged. "You may not have screamed, but you were talking in your sleep. Guess I'm just used to knowing what's going on around me. Tell them the dream; I got a basic idea already."
The psychologist took a few minutes to explain the dream to the two men. When she finished, Myles had buried his face in her shoulder, his own frustration evident, but Sam was nodding slightly.
Tara raised a brow at him. "Time for the patient to turn shrink, isn't it, Sam?"
He laughed softly. "That's one way to put it. I'm sorry, Liz; I didn't even think of this as similar to what I went through."
"What do you mean?" Then her eyes went wide as understanding dawned. "Oh; the 'dream battle' with Matthews, the night after you first faced him. A victory, or so you thought..."
"And had to re-win in my own mind," he replied. "But I had help." He glanced at his brother.
"That's true," Myles replied, his arms tightening around Elizabeth. "The twin-speak we share allowed me into his dream. But you still fought him on your own, Sam. And Elizabeth and I, as close as we are, don't share something like that."
Sam nodded. "That's right; but there are other ways to create something similar, aren't there, Liz?"
She looked up at him, her mind working within her field. "Yes...yes! Sam, you're right. A hypnotic trance would create the same effect of having someone there; my mind would create the image from the voice I'm hearing." Then she sighed. "Unfortunately, it will have to wait until we get back to D.C. I can't hypnotize myself, nor can I teach any of you how to do it in this little time."
Myles gave his twin a surprised look. "When did you get your M.D., bro?"
Sam laughed. "Nine months of intensive therapy; trust me, I'm living proof the stuff can be taught while you're the one on the couch." He reached over and patted Elizabeth's hand. "If you want, you let me know when you've got it set up and I'll be there, too."
"I will. Thanks, Sam. I should have thought of it myself, asking for your insight." She laid her head back to look up at Myles. "Apparently I'm overly stubborn."
"Oh, that's an understatement," the agent chuckled in reply. "You going to be able to get back to sleep, or do we start a round of 'Truth or Dare'? That's what you girls do at slumber parties, right?"
She smiled. "After earlier tonight, I think I'll take the dares from now on." She looked over at the other couple, who had puzzled looks on their faces. "I think re-telling it will get this nightmare out of my head, though, so let's get it over with."
Ten minutes later, Sam slapped his brother on the shoulder as they headed back to their rooms; Tara's soft laughter could still be heard. "Always told me you fell head-over-heels for her. Never knew you meant that literally."
