Eventually, Sara and Leonard find themselves approaching her apartment building.
Leonard says, "Tell me more. Where'd you grow up?"
"God, you've just become Mr. Chatty tonight."
"The fact is," he drawls, "I'm about to start shivering, and conversation keeps my face from freezing."
Sara laughs as they slow down and says, "Thank you. I had a good time."
They both make a few awkward gestures of goodbye before Leonard looks at the grass. It's covered in a sheet of ice — a nice, mid-holidays present from Father Winter.
"It's slippery here," he says, holding out an arm. "Come on."
"I'm fine," Sara says, waving him off.
The truth is, it does look extra icy tonight, but Sara can already feel her cheeks heating up. Leonard gestures with his arm, opening his hand for her to take.
"We got this far, I'll take you the rest of the way."
Leonard is still looking at her as he takes a step.
"Ok, but you gotta watch out," Sara gives in.
They're a few steps onto the ice, and Sara is saying, "Are you going to see Lisa tomorrow?" as she starts to slip. Her left leg slides behind her, and she thinks she's about to fall, but Leonard sticks an arm out to support her. It's wrapped around her right arm, and she thinks they're good, they're going to make it just fine, and then he slips.
Sara uses the arm already connected to his to catch him as much as he can, and his arms instinctively wrap around her torso, probably the only thing keeping him from hitting the ground.
He slowly lifts himself, and when they're face to face, Sara jokes, "Do not take me with you."
"No, it's alright," Leonard says, "not too bad."
"You got it?" She asks once he's back at his full height. Their arms are still wrapped around each other. "Good, okay."
And then Sara falls.
Her legs split apart and her body does a full 180-degree turn, and she finds herself on the way to doing a split when Leonard catches her by the armpits from behind. She kicks her legs out, trying to find some kind of balance, but it's a lost effort as all her legs do is flail in front of her. She and Leonard are both giggling, ridiculous childish giggles that fill the air around them with the kind of cheer to be expected this time of year. It makes Sara's heart warm.
She shifts slightly and places a hand on his shoulder, trying to pull herself up as he hoists her by the armpits. Eventually, they find themselves wrapped around each other again as they try to get Sara to stand up.
"This is bad," Leonard comments amid his laughter. "There we go, alright."
Sara finally plants one foot on the ground and starts to rise, the other one sliding and sliding behind her as it tries to find a place for itself. She continues to laugh through the struggle, but once she's face to face with Leonard once more, him bending down so he can use his legs to help lift, the laughter dies in her throat. He's looking into her eyes, and Sara is mesmerized by the glee in his. He stops laughing, too, as he notices her gaze.
They're pulled out of the moment as Sara slips just a tiny bit more, the bottom of her boots squeaking against the ice, but luckily she stays upright.
"All right?" Leonard says quietly.
Too quietly.
"Yeah," Sara replies lamely.
"I think we're all right now."
Leonard pulls away but keeps his hands on her arms. They try to move together toward her side of the complex, but after barely a step, they both go tumbling to the ground. Sara thinks if this were a romance novel, he'd have landed on top of her or she on top of him so they could look into each other's eyes a bit more. Instead, they find themselves side-by-side on their stomachs, a distinct tearing sound shooting through the air as Leonard's pants rip.
"What was that?" Sara says through a cackle.
She thinks she snorts.
"Was that my pants or my muscles?" Leonard jokes, a hand over his ass where the denim tore.
Sara starts to get up, practically crawling her way toward the edge of the ice, and tells Leonard to take her hand. He obliges, probably because he has no idea she's about to drag him across the ice. Once they're safely at the edge, they both quickly scramble to their feet.
"You have an extra pair of pants in your apartment?"
"If you fit into my pants, I will kill myself," Sara retorts.
Leonard stands in a tiny spot of green amid the freshly fallen snow, too far away from Sara, in her own opinion. "I'll wait until you get inside," he says.
"Well, good night," she replies, kicking some snow off her boots and some feeling into her legs.
"Night."
"I'll see you when I see you?" Sara asks softly.
"Yeah."
Sara laughs as she walks toward the entrance. Leonard waves her inside as she opens the door.
Just inside the entrance, Oliver is locking his mother's apartment door. He eyes her, something different than sadness coloring his features.
"Who's he?" he asks.
"Lisa's brother."
"The fake fiancee?"
"Yeah."
"Be careful," he warns.
The warning isn't cold. He isn't ordering her. She thinks maybe he's just trying to show he cares. In any case, Sara leaves him with a smile, feeling the warmth re-enter her cheeks as she walks up the stairs. In her apartment, she rushes to the window to watch Leonard walking away. He's walking funny as he keeps a hand over his butt to hide the tear, and Sara can't stop smiling.
That is, she can't stop smiling until she realizes what a mess she's found herself in.
.
A few paces away from the Vietnamese food truck, Sara rushes up to Rip as the latter reads the newspaper with a bowl of pho in front of him, steam dancing in the air.
"I'm having an affair," Sara announces. "I like Leonard."
"Who's Leonard?"
"Lisa's brother."
"So?"
"So?" Sara sighs as she sits down. "So he thinks I'm engaged."
"To whom?"
"To Lisa!" Sara lets her face fall into her hands.
"Sara, I really don't have time for this," Rip replies, turning to the daily crossword.
But Sara knows Thea has already told Rip the story, and she needs someone to talk to. Sadly, Rip and Thea are all Sara has. Maybe Oliver. Maybe. And out of those options, Rip is in the most stable relationship. He has a wife and a beautiful son named Jonah, and he never lacks for their company and love.
"No, you have to tell me what to do!" she whines.
"Tell the truth!"
"If I tell Leonard that I lied to his family, he will never speak to me again. And Mick and Amaya and Jax and Ray and Martin."
"Martin? Who's Martin?"
Rip is getting an exasperated look. Sara is simply surprised it took this long.
"He's the next-door neighbor. But, you know what? Actually, he knows."
"Sara, you can't lie your way into a family."
Sara breathes out, long and hard and overdramatic. "You have to tell me what to do."
"Pull the plug," Rip says, looking into her eyes and sporting a faux-serious look.
"You are sick!"
"I'm sick? You're cheating on a coma patient."
Sara can't answer that. Because she knows he's right.
.
Somehow, Sara finds herself back at Mick and Amaya's for dinner the next night. Okay, not somehow. Amaya called and Sara answered and Amaya asked Sara to dinner. And Sara didn't even think this time before she said yes.
"So, have you and Lisa decided where you're going for your honeymoon?" Amaya asks.
"I went to Cuba," Martin answers from one head of the table.
"Ricky Ricardo was Cuban," Ray says matter-of-factly.
"Mick, didn't Lisa look great today?" Amaya lays a hand on Mick's arm, who's sitting at the other head of the table. Sara is next to Amaya, and Leonard is across from Sara.
Sara can barely pay attention to the three conversations currently happening. She wonders if she could ever get used to chatter like this. Three whole conversations when she's really only used to being one of three whole people.
"Sara," Amaya turns to her again, "Do you think you could find us someone for Leonard?"
Leonard looks up from his plate and glares at Amaya. He's been avoiding Sara's eye all night, and she hopes she knows why.
"Well," Sara says, treading carefully, "I don't know Leonard's type."
"I like brunettes," Leonard drawls. "Tall ones."
"Alan Ladd wasn't tall," Martin says to Mick.
Sara has no idea what's going on.
"Marshal Dillon was 6'5"," Mick replies.
"Well, we all know who Sara's type is," Amaya intones, grabbing Sara's hand.
"These mashed potatoes are so creamy," Ray says to no one.
Sara continues eating, trying to pick a conversation and follow it, but she's having trouble. She can't pinpoint what any of the conversations are about, even the one she's supposed to be part of.
"You like blondes," Jax says from next to Leonard, a confused look on the former's face.
Sara tries to catch Leonard's eye, who is still looking at his plate. He doesn't react to what Jax said, but Sara knows that's from effort. She's learning his casual demeanor and disinterested expression are masks. She desperately wants to know what they're covering up.
"I could never make a good pot roast," Ray continues.
"You need good beef," Martin tells him.
Leonard finally looks up and catches Sara's eye. She can't help the smile that slowly forms.
"John Wayne was tall," Mick says.
"Dustin Hoffman was 5'6"," Martin counters.
"Would you want to see Dustin Hoffman save the Alamo?" Mick asks, but instead of just Martin, he addresses the entire table, as if they were keeping track of conversations. Which, apparently they were, as everyone but Sara makes noises of disagreement. Sara laughs, still looking at Leonard. In the yellow lighting, his eyes have a small tinge of green. She bets Lisa's would, too.
"These mashed potatoes are so creamy," Ray says, again.
"Jax mashed them," Amaya tells him.
"Spain has good beef," Martin says, seemingly out of nowhere before Sara remembers minutes ago. She's still smiling at Leonard, but she feels like her brain might explode from all the stimulation. Leonard finally laughs, too, when Martin tells Mick, "Cesar Romero was tall."
"Cesar Romero was not Spanish," Ray says forcefully.
"I didn't say Cesar Romero was Spanish."
"Oh. What did you say?"
"I said Cesar Romero was tall."
"We all know he's tall."
"Well, that's what I said."
Sara finally breaks eye contact with Leonard when it finally becomes too much and snorts into her mashed potatoes.
.
A few hours later, near the front door, Amaya helps Sara into her jacket, saying, "Remember, if you're free for New Year's, we want to see you."
"Thank you," Sara says as she pulls her jacket all the way on and grabs her purse. "I had a great time, thank you."
Amaya kisses her on both cheeks.
Leonard opens the door, also leaving to go sleep in his own apartment, and they step into the doorway together.
"Look, guys, you're under the mistletoe," Jax announces to the room.
Sara and Leonard both look to the plant and then at each other.
"Kiss her!" Ray says too loudly. "It's mistletoe!"
While Sara wonders why Ray and Jax live here but Leonard doesn't, she watches Leonard try and fight a smile as he looks at the floor, hands moving to his jacket pockets.
"It's tradition," Amaya says.
"Kiss her, idiot," Mick barks.
Leonard rolls his eyes before looking at Sara. A question plays on his features that she knows she has to answer. With a slight nod of her head, Sara welcomes Leonard as he slowly leans toward her. She cranes her neck to give him easier access, and he quickly and lightly pecks her on the lips before standing upright and turning away.
The whole family is smiling in front of them, completely unaware of the electricity buzzing between the two. Sara and Leonard say a final good night before leaving the house, together and separate all at once.