~21~

She'd been mistaken, thinking herself alone.

One perfunctory turn of a silver key, one twist of a knob, revealed differently.

Sheridan gripped her mother's hand tightly as she glanced around the rented room in disbelief.

Leaning casually against the mantle above the fireplace, Fox greeted her with his all-too familiar smirk. "Aunt Sheridan."

Fancy rose from the velvet ottoman, her hands clasped in front of her, her expression more sober, but her eyes just as kind. "I hope you don't mind that we're here."

"It's a little late. But it's still Thanksgiving," Ivy appeared at Fancy's side, nursing a steaming mug of cocoa.

"And Thanksgiving is for families," Julian said, walking in behind Sheridan and removing his gloves, one at a time, and placing them inside the deep pockets of his long gray overcoat.

Tears again welled in Sheridan's blue eyes, but this time of the grateful, touched variety. Without thinking, she whirled around and wrapped her arms around Julian's neck, squeezing hard. With her smooth, damp cheek against his cold cheek, she whispered in his ear, "Thank you."

Julian's arms came up to link around Sheridan's waist almost stiffly, and he lifted a hand to her back, patting awkwardly. He accepted his sister's thanks with blushing cheeks and cleared his throat embarrassedly before holding her at arms' length, his heart hammering inside his ribcage. "Your hot chocolate's probably getting cold."

"Here," Katherine held out the ceramic mug. "Not too hot. Not cold. Perfect."

Taking the mug, Sheridan lifted it to her lips, taking a sip. Finding her voice again, she murmured, "I can't believe you're all here. What happened to Thanksgiving at the Mansion?"

"That mausoleum?" Fox scoffed.

"It wasn't festive enough," Fancy pouted slightly.

"Thanksgiving's never festive enough for you," Fox teased. "There weren't any presents," he told Sheridan, grinning and dodging the annoyed swat Fancy tried to give him.

"No presents," Ivy agreed. "But there was an over-abundance of pie. Sheridan, would you like some?"

"Oh, Aunt Sheridan, it was just divine," Fancy sighed rapturously.

"Geez," Fox rolled his eyes good-naturedly at his sister. "We're talking about pie here. Not sex."

"Fox!" Fancy cried out indignantly.

The siblings argued, but unlike Sheridan's altercations with Luis throughout the day, there was no real malice in their words, their actions not borne of hurt or pain. She found herself smiling, watching them, and she accepted the offered pie and their unspoken comfort.

The little room and the warmth within chased away all but the last vestiges of cold.

There was only one person capable of doing that.

Aww at the Cranes.

Who knew they had it in them?

See? They're not completely heartless.

Too bad Luis is too hurt and angry to see that right now.

You know he's the only one that can make it all better for our gal Sher.

Thanks so much for the feedback, Shaun.

It is much appreciated; I was beginning to wonder if anybody was reading this fic (and this despite the number of hits, go figure).

Thanks for reading.