They drank the last of the champagne just before the snow began. Small flakes started to descend slowly and suddenly, spinning in the gentle breeze before landing on the ground. They hurried to close up the tub, shivering as they fixed the top into place before running back into the warm cabin. Tim, ever the gentleman, allowed Lucy the use of the bedroom first to change into clean clothes. She draped his Julian t-shirt over the edge of the tub to dry before walking out to the living room.

Tim had been quiet since coming inside, the distant look from earlier never quite leaving his face. Lucy could not be certain, but she chalked his silence up to fatigue related to his surgery. When he announced after changing that he was heading to bed early, she was not surprised. She bid him goodnight but did not follow for the moment. Instead, Lucy chose to stay up a little longer reading. It was only after she finished "The Light of Paris" sometime before midnight that she decided to turn in as well.

Despite her efforts not to disturb him, Tim woke as she crawled into the bed. He rolled onto his side as she whispered an apology.

"What time is it?" Tim asked, his voice groggy.

"Almost twelve. I just finished the book."

"Oh yeah? How was it?"

"It was sweet," Lucy said, smiling as she remembered the hopeful ending the protagonist -Madeleine- had arrived at after struggling for most of her life. It was a soft landing both fought for and well-deserved. "You would've hated it," she teased before bringing the blanket up to her shoulder.

"I would've hated it because it's sweet? I like sweet things."

"Oh, yeah? Name one."

"Um… donuts."

"Donuts? Really? Way to uphold the stereotype, Tim."

"Fine." He thought for a moment, then said, "I guess you're sweet sometimes, and I like you well enough. Does that count?" When Lucy laughed, he added, "What? I said 'sometimes'."

"What do you mean, 'sometimes'? I'm sweet all the time."

"Lies. I'd say it's an even fifty-fifty split."

"Fifty-fifty? Seriously?"

"Fifty-fifty," he repeated. "Half of the time, you're sweet. The other half? Chen, you're a pill."

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that's the champagne talking." She chuckled as she sat up to adjust her pillow before settling down under the covers a second time. "Is it sad that this is shaping up to be the best Christmas I've had in a while?"

Tim paused. "I don't know if it's sad," he said finally. "I think I feel the same way."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, the last few Christmases for me have been…" he trailed off, but Lucy could easily infer her knowledge of his history into the gap. Between Isabel and his surgery and who knew what else, there was no denying he had had a rough few years. She did not need clarification when he said again, "I feel the same way."

The view of the trees that surrounded Little Green was beautiful. Draped in a thick blanket of snow, however, it became breathtaking, borderline magical. Lucy awoke on Christmas morning to find the flakes were still falling steadily, shrouding the evergreens outside the bedroom window in several inches of pure white snow. The snowflakes that drove them inside the night before had been small. What fell now was large and fluffy, and with no wind to jostle them, their descent to the ground was uninterrupted and far more graceful. It was the perfect way to begin Christmas, Lucy thought, smiling as she carefully rose from the bed. Tim remained asleep behind her, and she glanced back at him only once as she tiptoed toward the door.

He looked younger when he slept, she realized, the ever-present furrows on his brow absent from his face as he dreamed. Lucy had often thought he was attractive, and that was a truth that did not depart from her mind even when she'd been left with only memories to sustain her. Riding shotgun in his shop had given her ample chance to admire his looks silently. Even now, she was sorely tempted to run one finger gently down the lifts and valleys of his handsome profile; to touch his mouth, his lips that looked so soft and warm. She did not raise a single finger to do so, but did allow herself the stolen luxury of admiring him a few moments more before shutting the door behind her.

They had not discussed a plan for breakfast, but being that she'd woken up first, Lucy took it upon herself to cook. She found a can of cinnamon rolls on a shelf in the fridge, and as they baked, prepared eggs, bacon, and a fresh pot of coffee. Whether the sounds or the smells of the food woke Tim, she wasn't sure, but he entered the kitchen just as she began to spread cream cheese icing onto the warm tops of the cinnamon rolls.

"Merry Christmas!" Lucy greeted cheerfully as she set the icing knife aside, but her good mood faded as she looked at him properly. Tim had changed out of the shorts and t-shirt he wore to bed. Now, he was clothed in jeans and wore a clean shirt beneath his coat. In one hand, he carried the gym bag that had served as his suitcase. While she'd been making breakfast, he'd gotten ready; not just for the day, but to leave.

"What are you doing?" she asked, although the presence of his packed luggage made his plans painfully clear.

He answered flatly, "I'm going home."

"Home? But… it's Christmas morning."

"I know. I can't stay."

"Why not?"

"I…" The reply stuck in his throat, and Tim sighed before shaking his head. "I just can't." He began to back out of the kitchen.

Lucy followed him, asking questions the whole way to the front door. "What did I do? Are you mad at me? Why?"

"I'm not mad!" he exclaimed, softening when he saw how his tone made her wince. "Lucy, I'm not mad." He took a deep breath, then stated, "We're just friends."

She nodded. "Yes, Tim. We're friends."

"You're not hearing me." He set his bag beside their feet, then reached for both of her hands. She was given no time to process the surprise of his touch because he followed it by asking, "We're just friends, right? That's all you want?"

"That's what you want, isn't it?"

His grip around her fingers tightened. "No."

… No?

Tim released her hands, then wasted no time reaching into the back pocket of his jeans. From it, he withdrew a crumpled piece of paper; his note from Angela. "Read it," he said as he held it out for Lucy to take.

She unfolded the paper and read the note in silence.

Dear Tim,

Told you I had a surprise for you! Better late than never.

Merry Christmas.

Love,

Angela

As she read it a second time, Tim explained. "I was still coming out of anesthesia," he began. His voice was quiet, hushed by some as-yet unspoken emotion. "Lopez and my sister had already decided on taking turns being with me while I recovered. Lopez sat with me first. She asked me if I wanted anything, and I said yes. I asked for you."

"Me?" Lucy looked up. "Why me?"

"Why not you?"

"We hadn't spoken in years. Years, Tim."

"I know," he acknowledged with a nod.

"You wouldn't have even liked me when you asked for me."

"Not true," he retorted firmly. "I never once stopped caring about you, Lucy. Even when I was upset with you, I still…" he paused, pivoted, and restarted. "I never stopped caring about you. I thought about you constantly. Hell, I missed you." He exhaled heavily, and it sounded like he was also in disbelief as he revealed, "It made me so angry to be left with all that love and nowhere to put it."

"Love?"

"Yes, Lucy."

"But… you were mad at me when you found me here. You said Angela wouldn't have sent me if she wanted you to have a good vacation."

"Would you have had a good vacation sharing a bed with the one person you knew you could never have?"

She looked over the note for a third time. Better late than never, Tim's read. You're welcome, hers had said. Somehow, Angela had figured out Lucy's feelings, and there was no denying what outcome had been intended when she'd masterminded their "vacations". She'd laid a trap, and they both had unwittingly traipsed directly into it. To that, Lucy had an unexpected reaction.

She laughed.

"Wow," she said between giggles, "I don't feel this way often but…. oh my gosh. I'm an idiot."

Tim was perplexed. "I'm sorry?"

"Don't worry. You're an idiot, too." She let the note fall and took a step closer to him. "You're telling me I blew up our lives pushing you into the sergeant's job, and all this time, we felt the same way?"

"We did? I mean, we… you… you do?"

"Yeah, Tim" she nodded with a smile. "I did. I do." She took his hands, interlacing her fingers with his. "I missed you every day. I never stopped thinking about you, either. I've spent the last two years trying and failing to fall out of love with you.

"You're trying to leave, and you haven't even asked if that's something that I want. I think you should ask me what I want."

"What do you want, Lucy?"

A tiny part of her wondered whether she should savor the moment more, but that thought was fleeting and easily dismissed. Knowing her feelings were reciprocated might have shaken her to her core at another point in time, but that was before Little Green. After everything that had occurred within these walls or in town, his confession was not a shock as much as it was the piece that completed the picture. It put his kindnesses, his gestures, and his gift into a new context. Into a clearer light.

Tim had been wooing her; that knowledge made her next steps simple.

"I want you to stay." She pulled him closer before going up onto her tiptoes. Dropping his hands, she wound her fingers into the collar of his coat. The other arm she draped around his neck as she brought his mouth closer to hers. "I want you."

His lips were exactly as warm as she'd imagined, a heat exceeded only by his fingers as they rose to caress the curve of her jaw, stroking a rough line over the skin before burying into the hair at the nape of her neck. It was not long before the kiss deepened, and they stumbled back to the bedroom, shedding their clothing the whole way. The warmth of his touch intensified as Lucy yielded to him, submitting to the urges that had filled her most secret fantasies but had never once been spoken aloud. A twinge of fear accompanied every sensation as half of her mind was terrified she'd wake to find this was just another dream. It was only when his name left her mouth in an ecstatic sigh that she believed.

After, as she lay in his arms and traced a circle over his naked chest, Tim chuckled low; the sound rumbled in her ear.

"Well," he said, "That was definitely a better present than a t-shirt."

The day after they returned to Los Angeles, Lucy returned both sets of Little Green's keys. Angela was not home when Tim pulled to a stop in front of the Evers-Lopez house, but Wesley was, and he accepted the key rings with a sheepish thanks.

"Did I mention I'm sorry?" he said.

Lucy shrugged off his apology, then smiled. "Nothing to be sorry about, Wesley. I had a nice time. I did want to ask you something, though."

"Okay."

"How did Angela know?" When he looked confused, she added, "She said 'you're welcome' in my note. How did she know that… that… was what I wanted?"

Wesley grinned. "She's a detective, Lucy. Even if she weren't, you weren't exactly subtle. I mean, you mooned over Tim for our entire wedding reception."

"Okay, I did not moon over Tim."

"Oh, please," he teased. "You didn't give her dots to connect. You left her neon signs. The hardest part was figuring out how to get you both to Julian at the same time. The timing of your breakup was sort of lucky, no offense." He stuck the keys into his back pocket. "You want to come in for a minute? I just put a pot of coffee on."

She declined. "Thanks, but I have plans." With that, she gestured vaguely behind her. It was only then that he noticed Tim's truck on the street, with Tim waiting patiently in the driver's seat.

Wesley waved to him and chuckled. "So the holiday went very well, I guess."

"Well, it didn't suck," she replied, then smirked. "I think my gift to you is letting you know about it before Angela, but my revenge is swearing you to secrecy until we decide to tell her ourselves."

He feigned a crestfallen expression before laughing. "You're diabolical."

They said goodbye then, and she returned to the truck. After buckling her seatbelt, Lucy reached for Tim's hand.

"Well," she began, "where to now?"

"Up to you. Got anywhere in mind?" he asked as they pulled away from Wesley's house.

"I already miss Little Green. It's too early to go back, though, isn't it?"

"I'd say so," Tim agreed with a chuckle. "It's only been a day, and next time, we'll have to figure out other accommodations."

"Why's that?"

"Well, I don't think Lopez will let us back if she finds out what we did in her hot tub."

Lucy blushed. "Fair enough, but what Lopez doesn't know can't hurt us. I won't tell if you won't."

He kissed her hand. "It's our secret, babe."

A/N:

This fic is a Christmas present for Mari/moonycpd. As you can see, it got away from me a little. Merry (very belated) Christmas, Mari! Love you!
Many thanks to Heather, Nicole, Daisy, and Ash, who each at some point throughout the process let me bounce ideas off of them.
Thank you for reading!