I love procrastinating studying for midterms. It makes it so much easier to get working on this!

He was surprised to see light still seeping through the café's glass window panes, the soft glow bouncing off the snow and into his face. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to get any closer- surely it was well past midnight and the last thing Laney wanted was a late night confession… He shifted his weight slightly, the numbness of his toes getting the best of him. He had told Lillian he would do this, and if this was what it took to convince her of his intentions, then he would do it. He trudged forward in the snow.

He knocked as quietly as he could against the locked door, half hoping Laney was in bed and couldn't hear. Why was he doing this? Why now? And why was it so difficult to organize what he wanted to say, a thousand words that sounded like badly worded apologies bouncing around inside his head... Lillian was right, she was supposedly the other great love of his life, didn't he owe more to her than a rushed explanation in the dark? He was on the point of turning around when the bell overhead sounded, a tiny rush of warmth crashing over his face as the door opened.

"Ash?" He couldn't quite see her face with all the light from behind her, but knew it was Laney who answered; feminine as he may be, Howard could never imitate that breathless tone. "Ash- oh my- this is quite a surprise!"

She moved aside to let him in, the smell of baking crashing over his face. "Hi. Sorry, I know it's late." He looked back at her, squinting as he shrugged out of his jacket. "Happy Starry Night."

"Thanks." She clicked the door shut behind her and leant back, blush flooding her cheeks, her breasts rising and falling in short, deep breaths. She had changed out of her usual red dress into something a bit more festive; one of her lacy dresses that she had worn to a previous year's music festival, he supposed.

He watched her cross the kitchen after a few moments of breathlessness, her hands reaching for the mixing bowl she had abandoned on the counter. "So, what's the occasion for such a late visit?" She asked, eyeing him across the room, trying to stay composed despite the fact that her voice was shaking slightly. "Couldn't sleep?"

He hesitated. He had felt so bold on the walk over, so sure of his future and the path he had chosen. But now, being this close to her… It felt as if his whole throat was creased together, making it impossible for him to say what she needed to hear. He forced an easy smile onto his face- he couldn't do it. Not right now, at least. "A bit, yeah. Am I right in guessing I'm not the only one?"

It was all too easy, talking to her. Nothing like talking to Lillian. Laney grinned at him as he took a few steps forward, tilting the mixing bowl slightly so as to show him the thick dough that was forming in the bottom. "Too right. Do you remember my grandmother?"

It was a bit of an odd question. "Yeah, from years ago. I thought she passed when we were kids?"

She gestured for him to pass her a baking sheet, her free hand flying up to press a stray lock of hair back into its usual place. He had always admired her hair, although certainly not in the way he loved Lillian's. Maybe it came from so many years of doing Cheryl's, but something about the tightness of her hair, the fact that even the loose pieces always looked so in place and perfect- it was from a practical point of view. Nothing more, surely.

He shook his head slightly to clear it, watching the corners of her mouth fly up as she spoke- she had noticed him watching. "Right again. She used to make these ginger snaps, and not too long ago I stumbled on the old recipe for it. Except some mice must have found it before I did, there's bits chewed away everywhere… Anyway, half the recipe is gone."

"And?"

Behind them the alarm on the oven sounded, sending her flying towards the back of the kitchen. "And I tried making them to have for dessert tonight. Except whatever the mice had eaten away seems to be important, because when Dad and I bit into them tonight they don't taste a bit like how I remember." He passed her a frilly set of oven mitts as she bent to open the oven door, sending a rush of warm air over his chilled bones.

He moved slightly to the left, allowing her to set the pan on a cooling tray. "So now you're going to keep obsessively baking until you get it right?"

She laughed as she pulled the oven gloves off. "Yes, as ridiculous as it sounds. But I can't sleep unless I figure it out. You know me."

"Well, if anyone can figure it out, it's you. You're the best baker I know. Always have been."

The tip of her nose went a little red at his words, her eyes quickly dropping from his as she grabbed a spatula, deftly unsticking a cookie from the still warm tray. "You had one way back when, right? Try this?"

She held the spatula up to his lips, her hand cupped under it to catch any crumbs, her cheeks now becoming so crimson he could feel the heat radiating from them. Leaning forward he caught the soft cookie in his teeth, warmth of the ginger and the heat of the dough searing through his mouth. He swallowed quickly, aware of their close proximity. "It's good."

"But?"

He hesitated. "You're right. It's off."

A slight crease formed between her eyebrows but she brushed it off quickly, the corners of her mouth tugging up slightly as she shrugged. "Oh well. The next batch has a half teaspoon more cinnamon, I'm hoping that does the trick." She broke off slightly, the right corner of her mouth tugging up even more. "You have crumbs, silly." Before he could stop her she had reached her hand up to his chin, her tiny fingers flicking a speck of cookie away before his own fingers could find it.

He recoiled slightly at the touch, the confusing spasm of affection and guilt flooding his stomach. It was the first time he had ever felt uncomfortable, alienated by her; he suddenly wished he had waited until the morning to come over, waited until the innocence of morning light would take away whatever connotations the darkness had applied on his presence in her kitchen. He watched her eyes half lid, the blue orbs through her lashes seeming to focus on his lips. He cleared his throat slightly, pulling back a few inches. Not now, not when he finally had things sorted with Lillian-

The emotions seemed to pass over his face because it was with a slightly hurt look that Laney pulled back, avoiding his gaze as she began to peel the other cookies off the baking sheet and onto another plate. "… How are things then?" She said in a slightly forced voice. "I haven't heard from you in a while. I've been wondering…" She took a very pregnant pause. "Have you given any more thought to what I said before?"

He felt his cheeks flush red and found himself unable to look at her any longer; dropping his gaze, he addressed his soaking boots. "I have, actually."

"And?" She turned suddenly, her eyes wide and demanding, the oven door still open and flooding the room with heat. "Do I finally get an answer?"

He hesitated once more and she made a disapproving noise in the back of her throat; vaguely, he registered that she was at the end of her rope. Sending the last of the bad batch of cookies onto the plate, she began to pile the raw dough from the bowl onto the tray. He took a rather raspy breath and forced the words out of his lungs; he wasn't sure from what corner of his mind they were coming from, but he hoped that they would let her down easy. "… My answer is no, Laney. I'm sorry."

He jumped as the spoon she had been using to dish up the dough clanged against the counter, having slipped through her shaking hands. For a moment she remained very still, her eyes closing as she spoke. "No… Okay."

He wished he could reach out and comfort her, but he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that it was the wrong thing to do; she would probably never want him to touch her again. "I'm sorry, Laney-"

"Is it Lillian?" She interrupted, turning to stare at him. "Is it?"

He wished he had a different answer to give; it was taking all his strength not to move, to comfort her. He opened his mouth yet couldn't bring himself to say it, but he supposed his silence spoke better than he knew how to. For a moment he thought she was going to crumple to the ground, start weeping at his feet, but in her usual fashion Laney remained at least somewhat composed; her chin wobbling slightly, she forced a watery smile to her face. "What's so good about her, anyway?"

He hadn't been expecting the question and before he could think through his reply he found himself shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, honestly."

It was a mean thing to say about Lillian but it seemed to console Laney slightly- at the very least, her chin stopped wobbling and she gave a mighty sniffle. "You don't know." She repeated, sending him a searching look. "And yet you'd still pick her."

"It's hard to explain." He cleared his throat. This was a lot more difficult than he had thought it would be. "… I just can't live without her, Laney. I see that now." He hesitated. "I'm going with her when she goes to visit her parents. I, uh- We're courting."

Laney turned her back on him once more, her hands still slightly shaky as she picked up her spoon, beginning to shape the dough on the baking sheet into tiny balls. "Okay."

He didn't know what else to say and wished she would turn to face him; it felt strange, watching her bake like he had so many times before yet feeling now more than ever the distance that had grown between them. "I'm sorry." He repeated, feeling slightly stupid.

She sighed, finishing the tray and sending it back into the oven, still keeping her back to him as she gripped the handle. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had said something sooner." She said quietly, her voice breaking slightly. "If I had just been honest from the beginning and told you how I felt. Do you think it would have changed anything?"

He sighed. "I don't know. Probably not."

She nodded, her hands flying to wipe the tears off her cheeks as she turned to face him. "Maybe it's best not to think about it."

"Yeah."

He had never felt more detached from the girl beside him than in this moment; reluctantly he shoved his hands in his pockets, staring around the room awkwardly. "Right. Well, that's all I wanted to say." He coughed slightly, the taste of the gingersnaps on his tongue repulsing him. "Lillian and I are going to be leaving in a few days. Will you come see us off?"

"No." She said rather thickly, wiping her hands on an abandoned tea towel. "I think- I don't think that would be for the best."

"Why?"

She sent him a watery smile and reached for him, pulling his hands from his pockets and lacing her fingers through his. For one wild moment he thought she was going to kiss him, his heart thumping against his ribs as she leant in to rest her head against his shoulder "…Never mind."

In a matter of heart beats he saw it… Weaving daisies through her hair, the two of them making a cake for his mother's birthday… Noticing early on how she always smelt like baking, the baby hairs that slipped out of her usual bun, watching on in jealousy as she danced with Harvey Baker… For a half a moment he felt a certain amount of longing attached to the memories, and to her- but all at once she pulled back and he registered the fact that it was likely the last time she would embrace him. For one wild moment he had half a mind to apologize, to do a better job explaining- but no. Maybe some things were best left unsaid.

She released his hands and looked up at him, the smile on her face a little more genuine than he had seen as of late. "Maybe you should leave."

He did as he was told.

And now we're down for the count. Read and Review!