So sorry I'm late! Updating alone sucks lol. All will be better on Monday when Beth returns.
Maxie beamed as she crossed the corridor, coming to a halt when she finally found the right office. She had barely slipped out of the crowd and that was hard to do in a skimpy elf suit, but how had Ric Lansing managed it, in a bright red Santa suit no less? There was no way she was letting him sneak off to leave her to pacify a bunch of angry children.
She had to give the Spencers credit for causing a scene. They had provided the perfect opportunity she had been craving all night. Santa suit or not, Ric had been even more vigilant in his tendency to flirt with her, causing her to respond quietly with shady comments about "Mrs. Claus" and be grateful that the children were too young to understand any of it.
Something was clinging to the back of her head, making her neck hurt, so she reached behind her with her left hand and retrieved the sticky object. Barely suppressing the urge to cry when she recognized what felt like a candy cane stuck to her crown, she carefully peeled it from each strand, letting herself into the office, momentarily forgetting who occupied it.
"Now if you wanted to see me that badly Maxie you could have just said something." Ric teased from behind her.
"Please." Maxie rolled her eyes. "I simply needed to borrow a mirror and I knew you would have one since you are so in love with yourself."
"You passed two bathrooms on your way here." Ric pointed out. "Why not stop on in there if it was just for a mirror?"
Maxie was about to comment, but her hand was stuck in her hair. How did she get herself into these messes and how could she slip out without letting on that something was wrong? He would either assume she was too weak to fight with him or smile in amusement at what he would refer to as her latest escapade.
"What's the matter Maxie?" Ric moved toward her, the red velvet coat long gone. She couldn't help but notice the thin white t-shirt he wore, along with the red velvet pants he had yet to change out of. "Cat got your tongue?" he winked at her.
"Not even close." She assured him, turning around so that she could yank her hand away without him noticing. "I was just trying to figure out why you're stalking me."
"I'm not stalking you. I appreciate beauty."
Maxie didn't have a response for that, at least not a biting one. She enjoyed their banter, but that was all it could ever be. No way was she getting involved with him, his reputation notwithstanding. The candy cane released its hold on her hand and she was able to pull it gingerly away from her head, feeling slightly less foolish. "Why did you have to go and say that for?"
"Because it's true."
"You don't even know me." Maxie shook her head. "I don't even know what I'm doing in here."
Carefully, Ric reached out to trace her face with his finger mindfully aware she may lean back and slap him for this in less than twenty seconds. "Why do you feel the need to rationalize everything?" He wondered. "Why can't you just let yourself enjoy something because it just is?"
"Because that's stupid." Maxie shot back. "Trust a feeling? Please. Been there, done that. And I'm always the one regretting it." So what was she doing in his office to begin with? What did she feel she needed to prove?
"So why did you come in here tonight? Why did you stay when you realized it was me? You could have told your father easily enough and gotten out of your obligation." Ric wondered, pushing back an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Why do you never leave right away?"
Maxie shivered at his touch and hating herself for it. "I owed you."
"For what?"
"For getting me into the committee." Maxie reasoned
"The committee?" Ric chuckled softly to himself. "I told you that was my contribution to launching your career."
"But you didn't have to." Maxie explained.
"I wanted to."
"And that's exactly why I have to go." Maxie backed away from his touch and made a beeline for the door.
"Do you always run from what you want?" He called after her retreating form.
Maxie stopped, stiffening, and turned her head slightly to the right so she could see his face out of the corner of her eye. "I don't—" Her mouth closed before she could utter the lie. The truth was, she had wanted him for a while, but she wasn't sure she could trust what she was feeling. Her heart had led her in the wrong direction so many times before now. But then, who said she had to invest? It was obvious Ric would stick around for one thing and then he'd move on. She was counting on it actually.
"You don't what?" Ric drawled moving closer to her. "Don't run? Or don't want something?"
Maxie faced him ever so slowly her eyes focused on the ground for several beats before she finally lifted them to meet his probing stare. He was closer suddenly and she wanted to jump back as much as she wanted to leap forward. "I don't think I have anything to worry about with you." She said, curling her fingers around his neck.
"Why's that?" He rested his hands on either side of her waist.
"Because you're an open book. You've wanted me from the beginning." Maxie whispered arrogantly, dancing her fingers up the back of his neck.
"And that's a bad thing?"
"Not at all. If we're both honest with each other here, there's little chance..." Maxie didn't want to talk about regret or let on that she had had her fair share if she didn't have to. His eyes were zoned in on her lips and she smiled, deciding there was a time to talk but this wasn't it. Pressing her fingertips into the back of his head, she tilted it to the side and stood on tiptoe to brush her lips over his. She wanted to tease him, to make him want her so bad he couldn't stand it, and then leave. But the meeting of their lips was electric and she had no choice but to merge them again, this time moving her tongue over his bottom lip. His hands tightened around her waist and she felt him shudder beneath her hands.
He must have liked her taste on his lips because his mouth was already trying to claim hers, his hand leaving the belt at her waist and combing through her hair. She let him pull her head back and deepen the kiss, her internal alarm silenced by the feel of his tongue meeting hers.
Maxie backed out of his arms, her fingers touching her lips in fascination. Good lord, it hadn't been that great a kiss, so what was her problem? Why was she having trouble swallowing? Why couldn't she form a coherent thought? "That was..." Fantastic, her brain screamed. Phenomenal, it went on. "I'm not sure what that was."
Ric grinned at her, similar to how she imagined a Cheshire cat would grin, reaching for her again. "Then I suggest we try that again so you can form an educated opinion."
It took another hour, but the foursome was able to clear out the two furious families and convince them to go back to their houses and hotel rooms collectively. Elizabeth told them she was feeling a little worse for the wear so Lucky took her and Cameron back to his house, knowing she wouldn't want to return to the Hardy house just yet. Patrick and Robin stayed behind to help with the cleanup crew, neither ready to admit their true intentions for doing so.
Robin still hadn't given him an answer and Patrick was about to jump out of his skin in agitation. One word and she would impact his world forever. He couldn't stop wondering how he would react to her turning down his offer. On the other hand, was he ready to commit to sharing a space with not one but two other people? Was he ready to share a bathroom with Robin, knowing full well that she would ignore the two extra bathrooms at the end of the hall from their room? Sharing a bed was one thing—that he couldn't imagine not doing. Neither could he even remember what it was like to not wake up with her beside him.
Could he look any more uncomfortable with this situation, Robin wondered fretfully. He was the one who had suggested they do this, but that had been when he thought she was pregnant. Now that he knew she wasn't, he had still gone through with his plan, but what if he changed his mind at the last minute? He could preach commitment and the "next step" all he wanted; she would still find herself doubting his capability to do so. The last thing she wanted to do was move Morgan out of the only place they had ever shared only to find out that it was nothing more than a whim on Patrick's part. There was very little stability in him asking her and even less in her reasons why she simply couldn't go through with it.
Patrick touched her hand and she jumped a foot in the air, a smile instantly coming to her mouth in a practiced sort of way. He was trying to keep her calm and she was trying to do the very same for him, so how much sense did it make for them both to be terrified? Maybe this was just too soon. Maybe they weren't far enough into the relationship to be thinking about sharing an apartment, let alone the sometimes mundane hours between the really good and the really bad. What if they grew bored of each other? It was unlikely with such strong personalities, but what if those same personalities provided them with separate but equal barriers in which to hold the other one back? That would be just as bad. She should have just said no from the start.
Holding off living together didn't mean they would be breaking up, not at all. There was a really good chance they weren't ready for such a commitment. And then he thought about the time they had spent together, about the habits they had developed together and separately, and he would smile. She would smack him in the head with a pillow when he snored too loudly and he would drag her out of bed by her ankles when she knocked his alarm off the nightstand table for the billionth time. When he said something out of line, she would hide his keys in Morgan's fish bowl. When she treated him like a child, he would dismantle her kitchen, hiding all of her spices, the silverware, and the dinnerware. Could they really handle the day in and day out together without becoming bored of their routine?
"We don't have to decide anything tonight." Patrick told her. "I've been looking to move for a while now so I could just sign the lease and then we could see where we are after that." He was trying to take the pressure off, but it refused to dissipate.
"Patrick, I can't ask you to do that. What if it's never workable? What if...?" What if she never agreed to share the apartment with him? What if she never thought it was a good idea?
"Who says it's not workable? I didn't say that and I don't think it for a second. I think you and I could make it happen." Patrick reasoned honestly.
"Based on what? A hunch?" Robin challenged lightly, not wanting to fight with him but unable to just give in and trust that it would all fall into place.
"A hunch is all it took for us to get started. I don't think you're giving this hunch idea enough credit." He was teasing her, she noticed, and she wanted so badly to believe in his certainty that they were meant to do this.
"It took more than a hunch. It took a lot of misunderstandings and name-calling, stupid fights, hurting each other—we've come so far, why do you want to go backwards?" Robin wanted to know.
"Well I guess it's a good thing I have faith in us." Patrick bit off, squeezing his eyes closed and counting to ten.
"That isn't fair! You know that's not what this is about!" Robin retorted, wanting to shake him.
"That's exactly what it's about, Robin. You're scared of change. You're scared of spontaneity. What's more, you're scared to need me." Patrick accused, shaking his head.
"That's preposterous! I'm not scared of needing you." Robin argued forcefully.
"The hell you're not! Needing me means that you're admitting maybe you can't do it all alone. It's not about being capable of creating a life, it's about knowing how to live it." Patrick explained.
"Did you get that out of a fortune cookie?" Robin blasted him.
"No, I found it in one of your self-help books." Patrick mocked, his eyebrows descending over his dark eyes. "This is crazy. We shouldn't be fighting in the middle of the hospital. We should be at home."
"At home fighting?" Robin countered.
"At home fighting, making up, fighting some more, and making up a little more than that. It's fool-proof." Patrick rationalized.
"Is sex your answer to every question?" Robin asked flippantly.
"Depends on the question I guess, but it's worked so far." Patrick replied with a wolfish grin.
"I have to get Morgan and take him home. It's getting late." Robin told him. He had gone over to Kristina's to play, not to live.
"Just tell me where home is and I'll go with you." Patrick prompted.
Robin gave him a long look, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and doubt. If she said yes, she was admitting that she had thought about them in a more serious atmosphere leading them into even crazier thinking, thinking that would lead one of them to the door and the other one walking out of it. If she said no, she would be returning to a life that no longer fit, one that was too constricted, too planned. There were no surprises in the former and too many in the latter.
Patrick held out his hand; his breath caught in his throat as he watched her battle with reason, with her heart, with what made sense and what never would. There were days when he could revel in how much sense they made together and others when he was ready to wash his hands of the whole affair. Obviously, he wasn't depending on what he knew. He was taking off in an unfamiliar vehicle without seatbelts, without any kind of actual protection, and hoping the crash wouldn't leave him battered and broken, wouldn't kill him. It was a risk, but he thrived on risks. And this risk, the only laying between them like a live wire, was the biggest gamble he had ever come in contact with.
He wanted to tell her that she had no choice, that he would sooner throw her over her shoulder than imagine a morning without her in bed with him, but in the end he wanted her answer to be one she came to after careful consideration. He never wanted her to question her reason for choosing to live with him, nor did he want her to feel pressured into doing so because it was what she thought he wanted. So, even as the question rested on the tip of his tongue, he held it back.
"Home is with you." Robin responded after a long pause. "I hope you don't expect me to leave all my furniture at the loft and accept yours as is." She went on, watching him lick his bottom lip in anticipation.
"Babe, I'll buy you a year's worth of catalogs and we'll throw out every bit of furniture in my apartment if you want to." Patrick gave in. He wasn't particularly attached to anything.
"Well, as long as you're willing to compromise." Robin smiled, leaning into him when his lips met hers hungrily.
"I never figured you for Mr. Scrooge." Alexis remarked, glancing over her left shoulder at Mac. He was sitting in the middle of the couch with his face buried behind a newspaper while she was slaving over the decorations for the Christmas tree. Since Kristina had been born, they hadn't gone a single year without a Christmas tree and this year had been no different. There had been a lot of changes in her and her daughter's life recently and she just knew decorating a Christmas tree would encourage her daughter to open up, to feel comfortable in the new life they were now a part of.
"You do such a good job," Mac mumbled, flipping the paper in half to meet her eyes in an earnest gesture. He had only been home forty-five minutes and, in that time, he had managed to burn dinner forcing them to order pizza and wait another forty-five minutes for it to arrive. He just hoped the deliveryman didn't get lost again. How hard was it to find Oak Lane? It was a straight shot from the police station, barely far enough to encourage driving as opposed to walking.
"Kristina and I don't believe you." Alexis pointed out, winking at her little girl. Kristina simply rolled her eyes and shoved another ornament onto an empty branch.
"We wouldn't want company to see the tree if I were to stand up there and mess with it. I got it in the stand; can't you do this part?"
"Company?" Alexis raised an eyebrow at his insinuation. "What company? You're speaking strictly in the visiting sense right? You did promise after Thanksgiving that we were depending on someone else for the next holiday meal."
"Yes, of course." Mac assured her. "We're good at a lot of things, but holiday meals are just too hard with our schedules." It wasn't a lie. They were especially busy between the months of November and February. He simply couldn't understand it. What was it about those four months that made this town go bonkers?
"I'm not saying we couldn't do it. We've proven we can." Alexis mused, digging through the box for the new ornament she had picked up on her way home.
"I agree completely." Mac told her, returning to his paper.
"So you think you should play Santa next year?" Alexis tested him, watching his eyes scan over the front of the paper.
"That's what I think." Mac agreed with an affirmative nod.
"Mac, are you paying any attention to what I'm saying?" Alexis challenged.
"Of course. You were talking about holiday parties. I told you we don't have to host them anymore. If I can ever talk that niece of mine into moving out of that crackerjack box apartment, she can take over the task."
Kristina grinned. "Actually, she was saying you should play Santa next year instead of Dr. Ric." She corrected him with a sharp smile.
"Oh, sorry." Mac apologized, folding the paper and meeting Alexis' put-off stare. "I really did hear the part about the—"
"I know exactly when you stopped listening." Alexis cut him off. "Hand me that hook, will you?" Mac reached into the shoebox of doohickeys and found what he was looking for. "Perfect." She smiled, sliding the ornament onto it, watching Mac's eyes widen in alarm.
"Alexis, what is that?" Mac asked slowly.
"It's an ornament. You know, to decorate the Christmas tree?" She was barely able to hold back her smile.
"I don't care what the clerk told you it was. It's not going on my tree." Mac assured her, leaping up from the couch.
"It's not just your tree." Kristina pointed out, sticking out her tongue at him.
"She's right." Alexis countered, letting the ornament dangle from her fingertips. "And I thought you didn't care how it looked so long as you didn't have to help?"
"But it's a penguin." Mac stressed the last word. "Penguins have nothing to do with Christmas. By putting that plastic sacrilegious toy on our tree would be a great disservice to the holiday."
"Maybe you should tell us what this is really about." Alexis suggested, placing the toy on the top flap of the box.
"What do you mean? Penguins don't go on Christmas trees." Mac repeated.
"But this penguin has a little red and green scarf, not mention a bright red hat. You can't get more Christmas than that." Alexis insisted.
"Is this a woman thing that I'm not supposed to understand?" Mac wondered, tilting his head slightly.
"That is so completely sexist I'm not even going to comment on it." Alexis grumbled through clench teeth.
"It wasn't meant to be sexist." Mac told her. "Here," He peaked into the box. "What about this little police dog? He's cute and he's got a little hat and coat." It was a hard sell, but he had to try, right?
"So this is about your image as a policeman? Tough cops don't have wimpy little plastic penguins on their Christmas trees?" Alexis deduced.
"Way to cut me down to size. Thank you." Mac sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure if he had picked it up from Robin or if she had picked it up from him, but it was one habit they seemed to share. That and creating fights out of thin air. He didn't want to fight with his fiancé the night before Christmas.
"I wasn't trying to do that. Honest. It's just a stupid penguin." She reasoned placing her hands on her hips. "But if it's going to affect your masculinity, then by all means take it into the backyard and burn it. I think I heard the pizza guy pull up." Her retreat worked as an effective dismissal but, more than that, it had Mac worried. Since when did Alexis Davis back down from a fight?
He came up behind her, not missing the immediate stiffening of her shoulders, and slid his arms around her waist. "Just a petty little argument. If you really want the penguin, I don't have a problem with it."
"It's not that. I'm not mad at you." Alexis whispered. "I'm just edgy."
"You haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately." Mac recalled. "Do you think maybe you should have a checkup or something?"
"Don't be ridiculous. He'll tell me to cut back on work and we both know I can't do that. I don't need to waste my insurance on something as stupid as that." She argued, opening the door since the fog had started to pick up and there was little chance of seeing the driver if he was even out there. Breathing in the chill, Alexis instantly started to cough, her body bending in half as she tried to stop.
"Lexie?" Mac couldn't hide the concern in his voice. Slamming the door shut, he urged her to couch and took the blanket Kristina already had in her hands. It was as if she had been expecting it. Had this happened before? He hadn't noticed, but that didn't mean a lot. Alexis was a good actor when it came to serious problems.
"I'm alright." Alexis promised, sinking into the blanket.
"You sound anything but." Mac replied.
"Nothing that a little hot chocolate won't solve." Alexis insisted, already moving toward the kitchen.