"Holidays are joyful, there's always something new. But ev'ryday's a holiday, when I'm near to you."

~"Merry Christmas, Darling", The Carpenters

"She's going to love it."

Percy nodded, his cheeks flushed, as he closed the case and tucked it back into his pocket. "Yeah, I hope so."

Paul put his hand to Percy's shoulders until the younger man met his gaze. "She will. It'll certainly be a Christmas gift to remember."

Percy looked away, smiling. "Alright. I showed you mine. Now, what did you get Mom?"

He knew he couldn't surpass the gift Percy had picked out for Annabeth, but Paul had spent a generous amount of thought— and money— on Sally's gift, and he was rather proud of what he'd come up with. Already grinning, he reached into his coat and took out an envelope, sliding it across the table to Percy who raised a brow and took it curiously. He held his stepdad's gaze. Paul nodded, exasperated. "Well, look inside."

The envelope flap was tucked in and Percy unfolded it, sliding out two rectangular slips. Both brows rose nearly to his hairline. Percy's gaze flicked up to meet his. "Airline tickets?"

Paul couldn't help the proud grin overtaking his face. He couldn't keep the excitement from his voice either as he elaborated for Percy. "I'm taking her to London."

Percy opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, closed it, frowned, then looked away.

"She doesn't bring it up super often, but I can just tell how badly she wants to go. And I want to take her! We'll spend a week there. I'll take her to places outside of London, too, of course, but I know how much she wants to visit the Globe Theater and Abbey Road. And we'll go see the very first Hard Rock Cafe— and Her Majesty's Theatre! And—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on, Paul."

He finally stopped and caught his breath, meeting Percy's gaze. Though, Percy appeared less impressed by his grand plans, and that pricked at his excitement like a slowly deflating balloon. "Yeah?"

"You want to take her to England."

Paul nodded.

"You want to fly her there. Across the ocean. To England. In an airplane."

"Percy, really, what about this is confusing? I'm going to take her on her dream vacation."

Now, Percy just looked pitiful. No, he looked like he was pitying him. He smiled sadly back at Paul, eyes flickering with genuine pity.

"No." Paul pointed at Percy as though that would stop whatever objection the young man was about to bring. "No, I've thought all of this out. I have it planned. I have the tickets. Sally is going to love this."

Percy nodded in agreement, though his look was still pitiful. "She definitely would. There's just one problem. She can't fly."

She can't fly. Paul wasn't sure what that meant. If there was anything wrong with his idea, Paul had expected Percy to say that Sally would rather go see Greece, that she'd dreamed of seeing the ancient ruins and spent all of Percy's childhood expressing her undying desire to see the Acropolis or visit Mykonos or take a day cruise on the Aegean Sea. But …

"What do you mean she can't fly?"

Percy grimaced. "She's terrified of flying on an airplane. She's never been on an airplane before."

"Well, yeah, it can be kind of scary. I know I was nervous before my first time—"

"No," Percy kind of laughed, though there was no humor to the sound. "You don't understand. She is terrified of even stepping foot on an airplane. She has an actual phobia of flying."

"Oh."

"Has she ever told you about how her parents died?"

Paul blinked. He was surprised to even hear Percy bring this up. Sally had told him when they'd first been getting to know each other that her parents had died when she was very young. She'd never said anything more, and Paul had never seen the need to pry deeper.

"It was a plane crash," Percy explained. "She was five when it happened."

"Oh."

Oh. Oh, shit. For Christmas, Paul had just bought his wife her worst nightmare. What a sweet and kind husband he was. How did he not know this about her? How had he not known about this fear of hers let alone how deep it ran?

Shit.

"She's never been on an airplane before."

Percy shook his head. "Never."

Shit.

He shuffled uneasily in his seat. "Well, the tickets are for June. You can have them. You could take Annabeth instead."

Percy just shook his head, sliding the envelope back across the table. "I can't fly. Zeus has a hypocritical vendetta against me, and I can't risk it. Do you know what kind of insane blessing I need from him if I want to fly in a plane and not be sick for a week after? Not one that I can afford, I can tell you that much."

Paul sighed. "Well, then, do you know anyone who might want them?"

Percy blinked.

"What?"

"Oh, come on! Don't tell me that after putting in this much thought and effort into her Christmas gift, you're not even going to ask her."

"You just told me she's deathly afraid of flying!"

"Maybe, she'll still want to go."

"You think that's likely?"

Percy shrugged. "There's no way of knowing if you don't ask her."

"And if she's horrified that I wanted to take her on a plane?"

"Then, at least you know. I can find someone else to give the tickets to. But do you really want to waste all this and never even see her reaction?"

Sally was at her desk in their bedroom, bent over a manuscript she'd been hacking away at for weeks. She was deep in concentration, brow furrowed, lips pursed as she worked away. Paul loved watching her work when she was in the zone, and he had the habit of watching her for minutes, hours while she was completely oblivious.

He took a moment to watch her now. Maybe, it was to prepare himself, though Paul was much more concerned about her. Since his conversation with Percy, Paul had come to appreciate the irony— or, perhaps, it wasn't ironic at all— that Percy's father was the god of the seas and not the lord of the skies. The sea had always called Sally's name— always would, Paul had long ago realized. She was a perfect match for the sea; it was like her home, and Paul could live with that. He'd married her knowing there had been a man before him. He'd pledged himself to this woman knowing a much more extraordinary man had previously held her heart. The sea had her heart. But she'd been part of the sea for much longer.

Yes, Paul knew that the sea had captured Sally's heart first. And he knew that this woman that he loved so dearly would not be who she was if the sea wasn't a part of her. He lived with that every day, and he was thankful for it.

But he didn't think that meant she had to fear the skies.

This time, after watching his wife for a moment, he walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around her shoulders. As he peered down at her, he caught the corner of her lips lifting up in a smile, and she pulled his arms tighter around her. "You look busy," he noted.

She took off her reading glasses and twisted in her seat to look at him. "I could use a break; I've been staring at the same page for hours."

"You'll figure it out. You always do."

"So, what brings you in here?"

He paused, glancing around the master bedroom. "Well, this is our room, is it not?"

She smirked. "You know what I mean. I thought you were still writing your final for your juniors."

"I guess I needed a break too."

Sally's eyes brightened. "Perfect timing."

"Actually." Paul ambled around her desk to sit on the corner, slipping a hand into his pocket where the tickets were folded up. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"I'm listening."

"I … I wanted to tell you that I got your Christmas gift."

Sally blushed fiercely, her gaze immediately darting away. "I hope you didn't get me anything huge."

"Sally Jackson-Blofis, you are the greatest gift-giver I have ever known."

She laughed, the sweet sound bouncing across the room. Paul's favorite sound. "I love getting people presents. I just really suck at accepting gifts in return."

"I know, dear."

"So, why are you telling me that you've bought mine? I don't need to know."

"Well, I wanted to show you what I got you."

She smirked again. "Paul. Honey, it's December third."

"I know. But when I bought this, I was really excited and I thought you would love it. But then I showed Percy, and I realized … you might not like this so much after all."

"Percy told you I wouldn't like it."

Paul opened his mouth to defend the young man, but Sally plowed on. "Honey, I don't think there's anything you could get me that I wouldn't like."

"Except, maybe, this."

"Paul. I will love anything you get me. As long as it comes from you."

"Okay, but I'm telling you that probably won't like this."

"Stop it! Stop saying that."

"Sally, I'm trying to warn you—"

"Anything, Paul! Anything!"

"You don't have to humor me—"

"Oh, Paul! This is ridiculous! Show me, then. Right now. I want to see what you got me. Right now." She planted a hand firmly against her hip, the other held out open, waiting.

He sighed quietly to himself, digging into his pocket for the envelope still holding the tickets. He passed it to her and Sally snatched it away, smiling at him. He watched her examine the plain envelope, untuck the fold, slide the contents into her hand. She took a moment to survey the tickets, and her sure smile slowly vanished.

"They're plane tickets," he iterated, though he was certain she had figured out that much. "I wanted to take you to England."

Sally was still staring at the tickets as she swallowed. "Percy told you about my parents."

"Look." He covered her hands with his, covered the tickets from her sight until she finally looked up at him. "We don't have to do this. I can find someone else to give the tickets to just to get rid of them. Or, I can shred them right now. We can just get rid of these right now and be done with it. But I really want to take you on this trip. I would love to take you to England. But if you don't want to do this, just say the word, and we don't have to talk about this ever again."

A fragile smile wavered on her lips, and a lonely tear escaped from the corner of her eye. "I didn't realize I talked about England that much."

Paul laughed gently. "Remember when we first met at that writing seminar? And they were doing those icebreaker questions? One of the first questions they had us ask was 'where would you most like to travel to'. And you said London. Not Athens or Corinth or Rhodes in Greece. You said you wanted to go to London."

Sally's blush was bright and fierce, painting her face a vibrant red, and Paul smiled as her gaze flashed away and she inevitably laughed. He kissed her warm cheek. "We don't have to do this," he asserted. "Just tell me, and I'll get rid of these."

Sally bit down hard on her lip and subtly shook her head. "If there's anything I'm worse at than accepting gifts, it's refusing them."

Paul shook his head, caressing the side of her face in his palm. "Sal, you don't have to do this. It's a seven-hour flight from JFK to Heathrow."

She shook her head, pulling his face closer until their breaths met. "I want to."

"Well?" Percy and Annabeth sat squished together in the frame of Paul's phone, three-year-old Estelle leaning between their shoulders.

"Well …" Paul angled his phone to show Sally beside him at a small table. She was in the middle of eating something they'd scavenged from an airport vendor as Sally had refused to eat anything during the flight. "We landed!"

"Yayyy!" Percy, Annabeth, and Estelle all cheered, clapping their hands.

"Wheh ah you, Daddy?"

"Mommy and I are in London, Stelly. We're in another country."

"Mommy fwew on a pane?"

Paul chuckled. "She sure did. We're super proud of her, aren't we?"

Sally's cheeks burned crimson and she quickly turned away from the camera's view.

"You did it, Mom!"

"Go, Mom!" they chorused back, and Paul smiled, pulling Sally back to his side.

"Well, it's only about 6:30 in the evening here, so Mom and I are going to do some light adventuring before we go to bed, but I thought I'd tell you guys we made it."

"Have a great time, you guys! I'm proud of you, Mom!"

"Have fun!"

"Bye, Mommy and Daddy!"

Paul waved goodbye then hung up.

Sally blinked at him, her face still red, a joyous smile blooming on her face. "I can't believe we're in London."

"We haven't even seen London yet. We should go get a cab."

"We're really in London."

He smiled, leaned over to plant a kiss on her cheek. "You did it, sweetheart."

"Stop saying that."

"I'm proud of you."

"Paul."

"It was hard for you, but you did it. I'm proud of you, and you can't stop that."

"You practically had to drag me onto the plane."

"I wouldn't drag you anywhere. You did this."

Sally didn't respond.

"I'm really glad you decided to go. You've never had a real chance to live your life. I want to give you back that chance."

"I've lived a lot of life."

"But not enough of the fun parts. … Come on." Paul stood up, tossed both of their carry-ons over his shoulder, and took her hand. "I think it's time to celebrate."

"Where are we going?"

"This is your trip, love. Anywhere you want."

That night, when they stood shoulder-to-shoulder on the ground in the middle of the Globe Theatre waiting for the show to begin, Paul glanced at his wife who stood staring at the stage, blue eyes aglow with anticipation, hands fidgeting excitedly. He, for one, was more than content to bask in her joy, to watch her all night while she watched the performers in the play. He knew where the real show was. And, again, he found himself staring at her until she felt his heavy gaze upon her and she turned to look at him, smiling, but brows furrowed in question.

"Merry Christmas, my love."

Sally laughed silently. "It's June."

Paul just shrugged.

The smile she gave in response was so simple, just automatic, but it could have lit the stage. And Paul, somehow, fell in love just that much more when she nuzzled into his side, a new strength settling into her bones, and responded, "Merry Christmas."