Alex. In the pool. With a knife.

Chapter 2: In the pool

Eight months later.

From his place by the fire, Ryan dutifully admired Nikita's dress. She barely seemed to hear him, because she was fluttering her eyelashes at Michael. This was just as well. Her crimson gown deserved better than his lackluster compliments. Owen actually whistled when he caught a glimpse of the extremely low back of the robe. Not to be outdone, Sonya also twirled and posed for them. Her emerald green silk dress was maybe even more elegant than Nikita's outfit, but Ryan caught himself staring out of the window instead. He wasn't feeling very festive. Christmas didn't do anything for him.

Then Alex appeared at his shoulder, wearing a knee length grey cashmere sweater over a pair of jeans. She looked stunning.

'I like your shoes,' Ryan said. She clicked the heels of her bright blue suede pumps together and grinned.

'Thanks. Hey guys, dinner's ready.'

During dinner, Ryan talked almost exclusively about the house. He couldn't help himself. The architecture of the place was amazing. From what Ryan could see, the original building has been restored almost completely. He knew he was boring the others – especially Owen – with his nerdy Architectural Digest appreciation, but he couldn't stop. What would it be like to live in a place like this?

He almost asked Alex, before remembering that growing up here hadn't been a happy experience for her. Sitting at the head of the table, she played the perfect host. Occasionally, Ryan caught her eye and thought about the kiss they'd shared.

After dinner, she approached him. He was staring out of the window again. It was snowing. Together they watched for a while as the grounds were slowly being covered by a white blanket. She gently nudged him in the ribs.

'Do you want to go for a walk?' she asked, keeping her voice low so that their friends wouldn't overhear them. She needn't have worried. Michael and Nikita were lost in each other's eyes, Birkhoff and Sonya were cuddling on the couch and Owen was busy devouring everything vaguely edible that was hanging in the Christmas tree. No one was paying attention to them.

'That would be nice,' Ryan answered. They donned snow boots and thick winter coats before braving the cold. The house looked even more imposing in the light of dusk. Silently, they strolled around the house. He thought about his memoirs. The writing wasn't going well at all. When he glanced at Alex, she flashed him a smile and grabbed his hand.

'I want to show you something.'

Hand in hand, Ryan and Alex dashed around the corner of the house to arrive at the front again. Suddenly, the house was awash in light. Christmas lights were draped across every possible surface and nook. They flashed on and off and changed colours. The falling snow was sparkling with the brilliance of them.

'Beautiful, huh?' Alex beamed. Ryan wasn't looking at the house, though. Snowflakes had stuck to Alex's lashes. Her blue eyes reflected a thousand tiny lights.

'Yeah,' Ryan agreed.

(***)

Despite the fact that Michael and Nikita in the adjacent room were very loudly not sleeping, Ryan managed to sleep through the night. He woke up early and tried to write something. A paragraph. A sentence. Anything. No luck. Eventually, he gave up and got dressed.

He wandered downstairs, in search of a cup of coffee. When he passed the patio doors, he noticed something moving in the outdoor pool. A pale shape slicing through the turquoise rectangle. He paused to look. It was Alex. Ryan shook his head.

'Crazy,' he muttered. In the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee was on the counter. He took it and two mugs and went outside. There was a bench with a big towel slung over the back. The wood was still a little wet from the snow that had melted overnight. Ryan wiped it dry as best as he could and sat down. Alex was just finishing up a lap when she saw him. She waved and swam over.

'Thought you might like some coffee,' he offered, pouring the hot liquid in a mug. Alex held out her hand without coming out of the water. Ryan didn't move. There was no way that he was going anywhere near the pool.

'I'm staying right here.'

'Oh, come on. I'm not going to do anything,' Alex protested. Ryan remained seated.

'I know you're not, because I'm not coming close enough for you to do anything. Try and fool unsuspecting strangers.'

Alex huffed and pulled herself out of the pool. Her hair was sleek, swept over one shoulder. Her cheeks were rosy, either from exercising or simply from the cold. She wrapped the towel around her. Ryan handed her a steaming mug.

'How are your memoirs coming along?' she inquired. He sighed.

'What does it say when the author almost falls asleep while writing?'

'Depends what you were working on at the time,' Alex said, sipping her coffee.

'I was writing about the thing with the President.'

'The thing with the President? No wonder you're struggling,' she joked. Ryan laughed as he realised that Alex was right. His life might have been pretty interesting in places, but that did not mean that he was a good writer. He was thinking about that when he got up to pour Alex another cup of coffee. He felt her hands on his back. The next thing he knew, he was in the pool. Alex dropped her towel and dove in after him.

'It's freezing!' he gasped. The icy water tugged at his clothes, attempting to suck him down.

'Come here, I'll warm you up,' Alex suggested. He waded closer. She leaned in and kissed him. It did nothing to dispel the cold, but it was nice nonetheless. Ryan smiled.

'We were here before,' he reminded her.

'I know. It doesn't feel wrong anymore,' she said, before kissing him a second time. He didn't know how long she had been in the water, but her lips were surprisingly warm. She unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. It floated away. He shivered when she caressed the scar on his abdomen.

'I shot you,' she whispered.

'I remember,' he deadpanned. Alex tried to take her hands away, but Ryan stopped her. He kissed her to tell her that it didn't matter. That he didn't care. That it was all forgiven. As he held Alex in his arms, kissing her, he started to feel warm. Which turned into hot. Which grew into scorching. Until they were interrupted by Owen's voice drifting across the water.

'It's below zero. What are you doing swimming? Oh, you're not. Are you naked? Don't answer that. Is everyone but me paired up now? Awesome.'

(***)

Author's note: Yeah, the 'thing with the President' is long over and Sam is Owen again and they all live happily ever after. Shut up. I create my own reality.