A/N: Took a while... it's been interesting times... How about those new eps eh?! And in the interest of not spoiling people, I'll shut up now.

Rushing to post this before bedtime, so I hope I've caught all the oopses.

Boxes line the floor along the far wall of the living room, each labelled in Jules' familiar scrawl. Securing the lid on the last box, Sam tosses the packing tape aside and lets out an overly dramatic sigh.

Watching him with one eyebrow raised, Jules shakes her head. "What's that for?"

With another sigh he shrugs, moves to stand beside her. "Nothing, it's just… not Christmas anymore."

Cracking a smile she rolls her eyes. "Oh you poor man," she laughs, wrapping her arms around his torso. "How ever will you last until next year?"

"It'll be tough," he grins, putting an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer. With another quick count of the boxes he frowns. "You're going to be ok putting this all away by yourself?"

She shrugs, resting her head on his shoulder. "I don't see why not."

"Right, Super Jules, I forgot. But, if you don't get a chance to move the heavier ones - for whatever reason - I don't mind moving them when I get home."

"Ok," she nods as she smiles, checking the time on her watch. "I should go finish unloading the dishwasher before Noah gets up, and you should probably be getting to work."

"Ah yes, can't be late. That would be a terrible start to the new year," he laughs, though his face is serious. Reaching the door he stuffs his feet in his boots, expertly tying them before tugging on his jacket.

"Don't forget your gloves, please."

"Got them right here," he assures her, patting the pockets of his jacket. "Geez Mom, such a worrier," he teases, sticking out his tongue.

"Laugh all you want, but if you have freezing hands when you get home you'll be keeping them to yourself for the night."

Standing over the pot on the stove, Natalie takes a deep breath and smiles. "Michelangelo, that sauce smells divine," she coos, turning to face him.

"Why thank you," Spike grins, tugging her towards him and into an embrace. "It's for our dinner tomorrow night, but, if you're real nice I might let you have some while I'm at work tonight," he taunts, winking.

"Hmmm well..." she sighs in mock annoyance, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "I would but I don't want to make you late for your shift." Giving him an over exaggerated frown, she drops him another quick kiss before pulling away.

With a groan and a frown of his own he moves to the stove, carefully removing the pot from the heat. "That was pure evil, Nat."

She smiles, lifts herself up onto the kitchen island. "You shouldn't taunt me just before you leave for work. It's your own fault, really."

"You know what would solve that problem?" he asks over his shoulder, digging through the cupboards for a container to store the sauce in.

Natalie smirks. "You quit your job so you can just spend your days around the house cooking me delicious meals and catering to my every whim?"

Spike shakes his head, turning to face her. "While I would love that, what I was going to say was maybe once we're married we can move out of this apartment and get ourselves a house closer to work. That would definitely give us more time at home."

Natalie shrugs, slips off the counter. "Yeah... I suppose we could do that."

Spike watches as she wanders into the living room, needlessly reorganizing the magazines on the coffee table. "Why do you always do that?"

With another shrug she moves on to fluffing the sofa cushions. "Organize the magazines? Because they're a mess. Call it a habit, probably came from being raised in a military home."

Spike shakes his head, frowning as he rounds the island to face her. "That's not what I was talking about and you know it. We were fine, having a nice little morning together before work but as soon as I mentioned getting married you shut down."

"Mike, don't start..."

"No. No. You know what? It's started. We've been engaged for over a year now and while that might be the average engagement for some people it's not normal that we haven't planned a damn thing."

Natalie scowls, shakes her head in disagreement. "That's not true we planned... well, we went to look at those venues a couple months ago."

"Oh, sorry, that's right, we did go look at venues way back in November," he agrees, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he rolls his eyes. "But, as I recall, none of those met your requirements so we said we'd keep looking and we never did."

She shoots him a glare, pushing past him to resume his earlier task of putting away the sauce. "Well, excuse me for wanting the perfect location," she mutters.

"I get wanting the perfect place but really Natalie, you haven't even wanted to look at the places I've suggested we go for tours of. This shouldn't be that difficult. I mean, really, look at Sam and Jules - they didn't want to have to agonize over the when and where so they set a maximum, looked at five places, and agreed that they would choose the one that fit them best."

Natalie huffs, turning to face him once more. "What? Are you suggesting we do that?"

He shakes his head 'no', shrugging as he joins her back in the kitchen. "I don't know, I just think that-"

"Good, because in case you haven't noticed, we are not Sam and Jules. In fact I think we might be the exact opposite of those two, because frankly I could never just stand by while you put your life at risk, no matter what some code shit said."

"Nat, you know that's not what I'm saying..."

"No? Well, what are you saying?" she snarls, staring him down with her hands on her hips.

"I'm saying that it's fine to want the perfect place to get married and to have a hard time trying to find it, but at some point, to me at least, it just seems like it comes down to either you want to get married or you don't," he sighs, lowers his voice, "and I'm beginning to think you don't."

"Well then, maybe I don't." She stares back at him, her jaw locked, for what feels like hours as they both process what's just been said.

"What?" Spike breathes. He stands stunned, cursing as his phone begins to buzz loudly on the counter beside him. Reading the display he groans. "Look, I have to go, I'll-"

Natalie simply stares, gives a quick nod.

"Natalie I really have to..." he fumbles with his phone as he puts it in his pocket, moving to the hall where his gym bag sits waiting for him. "We have to talk later."

Still buttoning his uniform shirt, Spike rushes into the briefing room. Eyes on the floor he prays he hasn't caught anyone's attention.

"Mr. Scarlatti, nice of you to join us."

"That's my line," Ed smirks at Sam who simply shrugs. Shaking his head, he turns his attention back to Spike. "Is there an explanation or are you just on your own timetable now?"

Frowning, Spike shakes his head. "It's a long story, sorry I'm late. What's the plan for today?"

And just like that, patrols are assigned and before he knows it, Spike is strapped into the passenger's seat as Sam tours the east end of the city. He puts on a good act - got used to hiding what was going on at home when his father was busy disapproving of his career choice - but sometime over the past however many years Sam turned into an expert profiler. He'll blame Jules for that.

Without so much as a nod in his direction, Sam begin's his interrogation. "So?"

"So what?" His answer is quick, unintentionally dripping with signs of a short temper and he knows he's screwed.

Sam doesn't flinch, maintains his posture in the driver's seat, yet intimidation comes off him in waves. He doesn't even turn to face him but Spike can feel the heat of the invisible light Sam's shining in his eyes, demanding answers.

"Everything's fine," Spike squeaks.

Rolling his eyes Sam frowns. "Yeah, you sound like everything's fine. Come on, Spike."

"Nat and I… we…" shaking his head, Spike exhales hard, "not having a great morning is all. It's fine."

"You sure?" Sam asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah… Yeah I'm sure," Spike assures, pushing the morning's conversation out of his mind. "Coffee?"

After settling the kettle on the stove, Jules picks Noah up out of his jolly jumper. Moving to the living room window, she pushes a curtain aside. "Oh wow it's really snowing out there now." She plants a kiss on Noah's cheek, pointing at the snowflakes dancing outside the window. "Daddy's going to be all over this. He's off tomorrow, so I bet he'll be wanting us to play outside in the cold all afternoon," she tells him with a frown, watching as a plow goes by outside. "Oh, there goes the big trucks!" she smiles, watching as Noah's eyes widen at the sudden sound. "There's the kids across the street, looks like they're building another snowman. And there's a little squirrel, probably running home to his Mama. And there's... Aunt Natalie?" She furrows her brow, watching the woman trudging her way over the snowbank left behind by the plow.

Opening the front door Jules gives Natalie a questioning look, beckoning her to join them in the house. "Nat, what're you doing here?"

Natalie shakes her head, ridding her hair of a few lingering snowflakes. "Oh, well, Mike had to go to work so I thought I'd come hang out with my brother for a little while. Is he around?"

Jules frowns, closing the door behind Natalie. "No, he's at work. He works the same shifts as Spike, remember?"

"Right, yes," Natalie nods, turns to leave. "I'll go then. Just uh, tell Sammy I stopped by?"

Jules frowns, shakes her head as she wonders if Natalie's red nose and eyes are simply the result of her walk through the snow or something else. "Did you walk here?"

"No, I took the bus to the park down the road and walked from there. My car's in the shop."

"You walked all the way from there?"

"I wasn't sure if the bus came down this way. I'm sorry, I should probably go."

Jules shakes her head, locks the door. "I've got the kettle going, why don't you stay? I'm having hot chocolate but if you don't want that I'm sure there's some tea around here somewhere. If you don't mind sticking around I can drive you home after Noah's nap."

Natalie nods, removing her coat and hanging it near the door. When the kettle whistles from the next room, she quickly takes Noah from Jules. Sitting on the couch, she makes small talk with the baby while she waits.

"Ok," Jules calls from the kitchen with a sigh. "We have tea, but only ginger or peppermint."

"Hot chocolate is fine." Natalie smirks, whispers to Noah that she'll teach him all about the fine warm beverages of the world since his parents seem to be out of touch with the subject.

Returning to the living room, Jules sets one mug on the coffee table in front of Natalie before settling onto the couch with her own. "So," she begins, quietly pondering the polite way to ask what are you doing here?

"I told Mike I didn't want to get married."

Jules stops mid sip, ignores the hot liquid burning her tongue as she stares at her sister-in-law.

Natalie sighs as she nods to affirm her point, pausing to kiss the hand Noah decides belongs in her face. "I just... we were arguing and then it just sort of came out and then he left for work and I...came here."

Hopping back in the truck, Spike places the two cups of coffee in the holders between the seats. Noticing the perplexed look on his patrol partner's face he gives a nod. "What's up?"

Re-reading the message on his phone, Sam shakes his head. "Not sure. Jules texted asking me to call her asap."

Frowning, Spike reaches for his seatbelt. "That doesn't sound good. Think something's wrong with Noah?"

"I do now."

"Oh.. I'm sure he's fine. I mean she'd call if he wasn't right? Jules wouldn't just text if-"

"Spike, relax. I was kidding. We have a system for these things, not that we've ever had to use it… But I'm sure Jules would choose 9-1-1 over call me ASAP, right?" With a shake of his head Sam pushes the thoughts out of his mind. "I'm calling. Did you get the bagels?"

Letting out a stifled curse, Spike throws his head back in frustration. "No… I told you I wasn't having a great morning. I'll go back for them."

"Don't worry about it, I'll get them." With that, Sam's out of the truck, phone already pressed to his ear. Patience running thin, he barely waits for a greeting at the other end of the line before speaking. "Jules? What's wrong? What's going on? Is it Noah? Is he ok?"

"Whoa, whoa, Sam, calm down."

"Jules what-" he demands, nearly running into another patron exiting the coffee shop.

"We're fine here Sam, that's not why I texted you."

"Well whats so important I had to call right away?" he huffs.

With a groan she reiterates the difference between as soon as possible and right away, a distinction that simply serves to piss Sam off. Catching the tone of annoyance in his voice she sighs, and moves onto the true reason for her call. She tells him about Natalie the broken hearted snowman who stumbled up to their door in the middle of what she considers light snow, and he considers a blizzard. Tells him what she knows - that they had a disagreement, that Natalie spouted off something she didn't mean to - and gives him a message to relay to Spike.

Quietly closing the door behind him, Sam sighs as his eyes fall on the pair of boots by the door. Even though Jules had told him ahead of time that Natalie would still be there, he had secretly hoped she'd find her way back to her own place instead. A quick scan of the living room tells him Jules didn't get a chance to move many of the boxes and he smiles, shaking his head. Sure, he said he'd move them after he got home, but his nice warm bed upstairs is waiting for him. So, in what he decides he'll have to refer to as an executive decision, he leaves them there for another time.

Because he's resourceful, or so he likes to claim, he uses the light of his cellphone to find his way up the darkened staircase and down the hall. The closed guest room door at the far end of the hall makes him shake his head, but at the moment he's got better places to be. As usual, his first stop is Noah's room. His usual routine of checking to make sure the baby monitor is on, and maybe a few minutes of spectating, is set aside when he opens the door to his son's room.

Blue eyes stare back at him in the dimmed light of the room. Smirking to himself, admittedly a little pleased to have the opportunity to see a wake Noah before bed, he crosses the room to the crib where Noah stands, watching him. "What are you doing up?" he whispers.

When the only response he's granted is a smile, he figures he'll fill in the blanks on his own. After taking a few moments to visit with his baby - a hug, a kiss planted on a cheek, and a gentle return to the crib - he makes his way to his own bedroom.

Her peaceful face tells him she's asleep, and while he would gladly watch her as he waits for sleep to claim him as well, something in her posture tells him she'll wake up the second he starts to crawl into bed. Jeans and t-shirt are tossed into the laundry hamper and he moves quickly to claim the empty side of the bed.

As expected, she immediately rolls into him, snuggling closer as he pulls the blankets over them both.

"Hey," she whispers, barely bothering to open her eyes.

"Hey," he replies, dropping a kiss to her forehead.

"How'd he take it?" she mumbles.

Shaking his head, Sam sighs. "Not great. He was all ready to follow me home after shift."

"But he didn't?"

With another sigh, he shrugs. "I talked him out of it. 'Figured it would be best if they both took the night, thought before they talk to each other."

Nodding against his chest, she smiles. "Good thinking."

"I do that from time to time," he smirks, before turning thoughtful. "Have you ever wished you could leave?"

"What?" immediately her eyes are fully open.

"Have you ever wished you could just escape to somewhere else after an argument? Like what Natalie did… have you ever wanted somewhere else to stay?"

Shaking her head, she kisses him. "That's not really my style. I'd much rather stay here and argue with you than go sleep anywhere else."

"Me too," he assures with a nod. "I just wonder how bad things are if she can't stay at their place."

Catching his train of thought she frowns. "I don't know the whole story Sam, but I don't get the feeling Spike hurt her if that's where you're going with this."

"Oh I know that," he nods, moving closer to her. "I spent the day patrolling with Spike and I get the feeling that maybe he's hurting worse than she is. I think I'm just worried about them."

She sighs, closing her eyes as she rests her forehead on his chest. "We'll figure it out in the morning."

For several minutes he waits in the darkness, enjoying the closeness, before she speaks again.

"Sam?"

"Yeah."

"Your hands aren't freezing."