Gray stood in front of one the couches not taken by the farmer's pets, his arms crossed. "You had all of winter, Claire, but today you decide it's a good day?" He glanced at two of the dogs sleeping peacefully.

"Gray, complain all you want, but a bet is a bet," the farmer reminded, approaching the blacksmith. "It's a stroke of luck that there's an afternoon game on. You came; you're here now. So, sit." She pushed him onto the couch behind him, his legs bending as his ass plopped into the cushion. She sat on his lap and faced him, with her knees on either side of him. Claire slunk her arms around the neck of the wide-eyed man.

Gray slightly gasped, surprised at her action. "Uh, what are you doing?" he finally managed to say. His hands floated since he hadn't a clue where to put them.

"Asserting dominance."

"Wh-Why?"

Claire squinted her eyes at him and searched his face as if she were figuring out a riddle. He increasingly grew uncomfortable, his heart pounding. It was one thing to be on the giving end; it was completely another story being on the receiving end, especially when it seemingly came out of nowhere.

"You know," the blonde started after observing him squirm, "I could get you to do something for me instead."

Gray raised an eyebrow. "Instead of watching the game?" He slowly rested his hands at her hip as he regained some of his composure; he lightly squeezed her.

"Perhaps," she said, coyly smiling.

His eyes were captivated by her sapphire ones. She may have been on his lap, but they weren't as physically close as he wanted them to be. She played with his hair at the back of his head just under the snap of his hat, a sense of euphoria knocking at the door; but he wasn't sure if the situation called for him to act – to wrap his arms around her waist and yank her closer. So, he waited to see what she would do.

Claire sighed, her arms returning more to her side and near her thighs, her eyes never leaving his. Her coy smile turned more into a small one. Her lips furrowed inward briefly. "But too bad I already taken care of the livestock today, and it was excrement extraction day," she quickly said, pulling down the bill of his hat over his face as she got up to head to the kitchen, leaving a very emotionally manipulated blacksmith.

"Claire, you're not playing fair," Gray blurted. He shifted his hat up, back to its original placing. He watched the blonde quickly return, two drinks in her hands. Up and till now he hadn't realized how much her touch really affected him. He took a deep breath, held it in a couple seconds, and released it.

Claire sat beside him and then handed him one of the drinks. "I didn't know I was playing something. What are we playing, Gray?" she asked, tilting her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Gray watched her sipping her drink in a slow 'gotcha' kind of way. A smiled appeared on his face as he slowly shook his head. He downed his drink, nearly in one go, and placed the empty glass on the table in front. Grabbing her, he then pulled her much closer to him in such a way that resulted in her leaning against the arm of the couch, ass on cushion, and resting her legs on his lap. His hands rested on her lower thighs as he turned his attention to the hockey game on the television.

The blonde opened her mouth slightly, trying to force words out, but simply couldn't and closed her mouth. She was stunned as it was, but what probably stunned her the most was the fact that her drink had not spilled even one drop when he moved her. The list of his knack for the impossible just kept on growing, it seemed. She held onto her drink for what felt like an eternity before she gingerly resumed drinking.

First period flew on by quickly, and the intermission between first and second period began. She wasn't quite sure if their interactions would return. The more she thought about it, the more that craving for his attention grew. Past Claire would have focused intensely on the commentators' opinions and the play-by-plays or, at the very least, paid more attention to it than she currently was. But Now Claire? Now Claire was watching him periodically, trying to think of an excuse to talk to him, an excuse for his attention.

She glanced at her laptop on the coffee table. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to actually get up and grab it. His hands were like an animal that was comfortable in resting on her lap. What if she moved wrong and forced his hands to move more to himself? The risk was unacceptable, but it did leave her with the excuse she needed. "Gray?"

The blacksmith unconsciously squeezed her lower thigh at the mention of his name, his thumbs massaging in circles.

"Could I..." Her throat caught a bit of a lump, forcing her to clear it. "Could I by any chance get you to allow me to get my laptop from the coffee table there?" Claire asked, holding her empty glass still. What the hell she was trying to say was anybody's guess.

Gray glanced at her, meeting briefly with her eyes, and then at the empty glass. He grabbed the glass, gently moved her legs so that he could easily reach the coffee table, and set the glass down, grabbing the laptop. Once he passed the laptop to her, he resumed her legs on his lap, but instead of his hands resting on her lower thighs, he rested them on her lower knees.

"Are you still waiting for those shadow-fearing idiots?" Gray then asked, his focus turning a little more to her.

"They don't fear shadows."

"They might as well."

Claire breathed out a little laugh. "They are incredibly good at what they do – the top of the top, no wait..." She paused to think. "The cream of the crop."

"You're incredibly good at what you do, with technology, and yet you're not afraid of your own damn shadow," he said dryly as he looked more at her, a commercial playing in the background.

"Graaaay." She laughed a little more, trying her best to contain the majority of it. "They're not like that. Stuff like this takes time, especially if you want to absolutely be certain and sure, which I do. I'm not going to risk the possibility of triggering something and I lose everything on the flash drive."

"Flash drive?"

She playfully punched him in the arm, a small smile appearing on her face. "The stick, Gray."

Claire eventually opened her laptop to check if she had received any messages; on all fronts, there were none – not from her friends in the city, which as the days passed the more, she felt she wasn't going to receive any – and certainly not from those on the dark corners of the net. She wasn't entirely sure which was more frustrating. Both required patience, but her patience could only endure for so long.

Her remote access to the government facility's systems had long been cut short, even with the resources she had gathered. Captain Morris' contact had been getting sparser and sparser, which didn't settle right with her, being borderline in the dark and all. For awhile, she tried squeezing herself into their systems to see if she could have regained access, but the farthest she had ever managed was skirting around their systems. Their cyber security was next level, and she suspected that her escape had propelled them to install that major upgrade in security.

But the most concerning thing that often plagued her about the situation was Colonel McGowan's lack of retaliation after she escaped. That wasn't to say she wasn't grateful for that lack of action; on the contrary, she was incredibly thankful that he didn't just march into Mineral Town and drag her back with him. But it was worrying. He definitely was playing some sort of game one which she didn't know the rules. She just hoped she could prolong her participation and end it before everything crumbled. Literally.

Claire closed the laptop, her mind focusing more on the televised game. It was just a little after the midway point to the second period, and excitement on both ends of the rink was starting to build and build. She clutched the laptop more towards her body, her eyes fixated on the television. Suddenly, the team she was most rooting for scored a goal, or so it looked like one. The zebras congregated together to discuss the potential goal while commentators replayed footage of the play, giving their opinions on the matter.

"Oh, come on," Claire began, agitation rising within. "That clearly was a goal!" She waved her hand at the television.

As time continued, so did her impatience and annoyance.

"They better not call back that goal!" she cried. The farmer removed her legs off Gray, catching his attention a little more, and continued her staring contest at the television as she sat forward on the couch. She placed her laptop back on the coffee table. "I swear if they call back that goal..."

Time ticked and ticked and ticked, the nearby clock ticking to the rhythm of her agitation. Then the call was officially made; the puck did not cross the line: no goal.

Claire shot up from the couch, startling Gray who now had his full attention on her. "Un-be-lievable!" She flailed her arms at the television and paced a little. "The absolute shittiest call I have seen! Idiots! Are you all blind!? That was a goal! It crossed the freaking line! The replays show this!" She rubbed her face with a hand and then crossed her arms.

Gray stared at her more, studying her fuming face. A slight smile played on his face.

"What!?" she growled, her eyebrows furrowed in extreme agitation, arms still crossed.

The blacksmith chuckled. "Nothing," he responded, earning himself the most agitated face he had ever seen. "It's just... I haven't seen you this angry in awhile. I forgot how amusing it was." A full smile plastered his face.

Claire huffed as her arms dropped back to her side. "Leave it to you to be amused at me rightfully being freaking pissed at that call!"

"Claire, I think I'm warming up to the sport, but only when I'm watching with you."

Claire huffed yet again and sank into the couch, crossing her arms, eyebrows still furrowed. Her companion laughed as he wrapped his arm around her, giving her a slight hug. He retreated his arm back to himself and continued watching the game; she sulked but eventually focused more of her attention back to the game, not without a little grumbling occasionally.

The game wound down, much to Gray's delight, and night started to arrive. This night, however, signalled differently; it was not only the last day of the year but also the day of the Year End Festival, and that meant the annual buckwheat noodles, a way to send off the old year. No one knew exactly who typically made the noodles, but everyone knew they were some of the best.

Claire and Gray arrived to Rose Square, both not saying much on the way. Claire was still fuming but more inwardly than outwardly, and Gray didn't have much to say with what little words they did exchange. Ann and Andrew both spotted them first and immediately approached them.

"Well. This explains why I couldn't find Gray all day." Ann first eyed Claire then Gray, a grin creeping on her face.

Gray crossed his arms and stared down the ginger. "And I'm suppose to check in with you?"

"Gray, you're dumb if you think that is at all what I meant," Ann answered as she matched his demeanour.

"Now, now, children," Claire interceded, furrowing her eyebrows. "Don't make me have to spank the two of you or, at least, put you two on time out."

Ann looked at her in surprise while Gray landed his eyes on her, a very small smile threatening to show.

"Don't mind Claire here," Gray finally said as he uncrossed his arms. "She's still a little pissy from earlier."

"Is everything okay?" Andrew asked, concern appearing on his face.

"I'm fine. Gray's just trying to rile me up." Claire glanced at the mentioned man. "But I'll tell you who won't be fine: those refs if I ever meet them one day."

Her brother mouthed an 'oh,' nodding in acknowledgement.

"Now I was promised noodles here. Where are the damn noodles at?"

Ann quickly grabbed Claire by the arm and dragged her to where all the buckwheat noodles were, the two men following a ways back. Pots and pots of noodles sat on a long white clothed table, nestled in such a way where the precious noodles wouldn't become cold easily. The heaters also helped. The farmer's eyes lit up, and she wondered if Mayor Thomas would allow her to take a whole large pot to herself.

"I've tried convincing the Mayor multiple years," Ann suddenly said. "But he never budges from his resounding 'no' on taking a whole pot. Do you know how much buckwheat noodles I could eat if we could?"

"And do you know how long we'd be at the Clinic if you got your wish?" Andrew interrupted from behind the two women.

"Nonsense!" Ann said, waving a hand at him.

"Nonsense? Cookie, you're forgetting." Andrew turned his attention to his sister. "Claire, I don't know if she has told you this, but this woman here one time ate so much – and I mean so much – that she had to be taken to the Clinic. What all she ate again?" He pondered briefly before continuing, "Ah, yes: a stir fry, omelet rice, a savoury pancake, tempura noodles, cheesecake, apple pie, cake, and ice cream."

"You forgot the pumpkin pudding, Drew."

"Apologizes," Andrew feigned his remark. "Mustn't exclude that pivotal dessert."

The ginger rolled her eyes and then scooped more buckwheat noodles into her bowl. "It wasn't my fault. I was hungry!"

Claire giggled to herself as she scooped some noodles herself.

"So you said on that day before being told not to eat that much in the future. And yet here you are wishing for one of those large pots!" Andrew said. "And who knows how many you're thinking about!"

"Whatever," Ann brushed the matter to the side. "I eat at least a pot of noodles every year anyways. It's called efficiency, something I know Claire can understand."

"Oh, don't bring me into this," Claire quickly said. "I'm quite content observing."

"I know you were eyeing those pots, girl!"

Andrew laughed, finished scooping his noodles. "Yet it was you who verbalized it, Cookie."

"Humph."

Andrew brought Ann closer to him with his arm, giving her a side hug and a kiss on the temple. The three of them then found a table to sit since Gray had already been preoccupied with Cliff's interception and was still conversing with him. Claire dug into her noodles as soon as she sat on a chair, relishing every bite – the chew, the earthy taste, and the slight saltiness. If this was what typically happened at the Year End Festival, then this festival was definitely her favourite. The noodles were perfection; then again, the blonde never met a noodle dish she didn't like, unless, of course, the cook of the noodle was not at all al dente.

Not every townsfolk came and stayed at Rose Square during this particular festival; quite often, some would come, grab some noodles, and off they went, whether home or elsewhere. The ones that usually stayed were ones who would proudly call themselves connoisseurs of the buckwheat noodles. This year, however, more townsfolk stayed, each enjoying one another's company.

Once Claire finished with her bowl, she sat in silence. Whatever her brother and Ann were talking about she hadn't a clue nor really cared. She just observed in the hopes of shutting down certain thoughts creeping up on her. Gray still hanged around Cliff, looking a bit lost since Duke and Manna joined. Gotz and Carter were at a table and enjoying every minute of those noodles. Claire smiled to herself, understanding the exact joy the two men were experiencing. Her eyes then caught Popuri who looked as if she was arguing with Rick about something; of what Claire couldn't make out. The square was lively, and yet the farmer didn't feel that herself.

She got up from her chair, its legs squeaking, and mumbled that she was getting more noodles. Andrew and Ann nodded in acknowledgement and continued with their conversation as if nothing had happened. Claire glanced around to see where Gray was. She had figured he would join them at some point, but he never did, and for some reason that bothered her. As she scooped more noodles into her bowl, those certain thoughts crept back. She sighed. If those thoughts were insisting on coming now, then she might as well embrace them, ponder them, and, hopefully, they would be at least diminished. Her bowl of noodles in hand, she glanced around again to make sure nobody saw her and then sneaked out of the square, down the path towards the beach.

Sitting down, ignoring the fact that her coat would have to be beaten later to rid it of the sand, Claire began munching on her noodles or, rather, nibbling. The ocean waves lapped the sandy land, the ocean not caring who watched. The outside lantern hanging at Zack's cabin shone bright which offered some light for Claire to see the snow on top of the two buildings. The blonde blinked at the sight. Why was there snow there but not on the beach itself? She shook her head. Always questions; never nearly enough answers.

She finished her noodles and sat cross legged, preparing herself for the mental spiral. She closed her eyes and soon felt a little movement in the sand beside her.

"Why are you out here?"

Claire opened her eyes and then stared from his UMA hat to him.

"It's just a question, Claire."

The blonde locked eyes with his and responded, "I know. Sorry. I might be a little tired."

"Is everything alright? I didn't expect you to sneak off like that."

"Yes... no... I honestly don't know anymore, Gray." Claire sighed and stretched her legs straight out. "I've just been thinking."

He chuckled to himself, retracting one of his legs closer to him, his arm leaning on his knee. "When don't you?"

The farmer grunted a laugh and then sighed. "It's just... I've been here for about a year now, and so much has happened. The North. My farm. Danger, it seems..."

"You're not still thinking that you weren't the one who made the decision to come, are you?" The blacksmith leaned somewhat towards her as if he were trying to hear better.

"No, no. You definitely knocked that idea out of my head."

Gray relaxed, releasing air through his nose. "Good. I'm glad to hear that."

Claire smiled briefly before continuing, "I'm more thinking 'What have I gotten myself into?' Not my farm: I knew what I was signing up for when I bought it. Well, mostly. It's just... I'm a nobody who's been thrusted into this epic, if I may call it that. I watch epics, not participate in them. What do I know?"

"What do any of us know?" He shrugged, his hand following a similar gesture. "Claire, you're not a nobody. You do these amazing things on your farm and – let's call them extra things. You're... You're a somebody to me, if that matters..." Gray lowered his eyes but still had them on Claire, watching closely for any potential motion of hers.

"It does," Claire said as she hugged his arm, bringing herself a little closer. "Who knew a grumpy apprentice would actually keep me sane! I know I didn't have that on my bingo card last spring."

Gray laughed, causing movement with his body to align with it. Claire smiled to herself. If only their past selves saw them now! Making light of their spring interactions! Sitting close to one another! Well, not nearly as close as they both wanted or wished. The two sat for a little while and enjoyed the quiet moment.

But Gray decided enough was enough.

He adjusted his sitting position – Claire releasing her grip on his arm – to where he was much closer to her, his hand landing on hers. The spark of their touch surged between them. His warm hand grabbed more of hers and somewhat interlaced them with her colder ones. "Claire, look at me."

His voice was absolutely hypnotizing and evoked a certain set of emotions and thoughts which the blonde was becoming more familiar with as she had gotten to know the blacksmith and especially after the blizzard. Her eyes lifted to lock with his.

"I don't want you to do this yourself," he continued. "I... I want to help."

She knew what he was referencing. Her heart somewhat sank. "There's not much to do, Gray. Even if you said that after we were up north, Captain Morris is head honcho so to say; he had plans already drawn up but nobody that could give him the upper hand and decipher what he gave to me. I merely offered ideas which he seemed to approve for the most part."

"I don't mean help with that. That is way beyond me."

"Then what do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head.

Their eyes didn't leave each other, like moths to a flame. Both examined each other's intricate facial features as much as limited light allowed them. His eyes clearly had desire, occasionally looking down to her lips. But hers? No, there was no but; hers had that touch of desire, sparkling like the stars above them. She just wasn't sure if this time she could follow through.

Gray reached out and brushed a bit of her hair to the side of her winter hat, his hand lingering around her face, startling her somewhat. His mere touch set everything in Claire's body ablaze as her heart pounded and pounded. He travelled his fingers down to her chin and stopped, cupping it, his thumb close to her lips.

Eeeee!

Claire's breath nearly stopped. How was he not freaking out like she was? His touch was steady like someone not working up to a kiss. Was this actually real? Was this actually going to – her hand, still in his other hand, squeezed his. Her body was ready; her emotions were ready. But deep down, beyond her subconscious – deep down still had some doubts, and that doubt slowly started to rise and infect her.

Suddenly a scream echoed from Rose Square, slicing through any trance either possibly had.

"What the hell was that?" Claire broke away from Gray, resuming her original distance from him, and looked back. "Was that Ann?" The scream wasn't entirely a horrific one, but it was a startling one nevertheless.

Gray sighed as he opened and closed his hand, hoping to feel the lingering remnants of her touch, as the cold rushed to erase those remnants. "Yeah. That's the sound of your brother proposing," he stated.

Claire's eyes widened. "Really? How do you know?" she asked, blinking in thought. "And why didn't he tell his own sister?"

"Don't take it personally, Claire," Gray replied. "I only knew cause he practised on Cliff and me. That first time was very awkward when Cliff walked in." Flashes of that situation ran through his head; he shuddered.

"Kind of hard not to take it personally when I am his sister, and he knows how close Ann and I are."

"And that's probably why he didn't."

Claire allowed a pause in their conversation as she pondered on Gray's words. The persistence of Ann immediately came into mind. "You're right," she started which brought back Gray's attention, away from his staring at his hand and the sand. "That does make sense. I can understand the concern. Rassilon only knows how he managed to keep it from her without her finding out."

And it kind of helps when somebody blocks the transmission to her lair. Sorry, Ann, but the risk is simply too great at this moment, Claire thought. Though upon further reflection on Ann's lair as the ginger loved to call it, Claire wondered why Ann never even mentioned the lack of transmission her lair was so obviously experiencing.

"She does have a way in finding out secrets," Gray eventually said.

Another pause to their conversation appeared. Both of them awkwardly sat in the sand. Gray hoped that the blonde would look and lock eyes with him again because he knew if they did at that moment, he would have her undivided attention and, hopefully, would have continued. However, Claire knew herself well, and despite some doubt rising in her, if she allowed him to do what she had concluded he was going to do, she knew she would have allowed it. On some level, she was thankful for the interruption; her body wasn't, but more opportunities would arise. She was certain. They had to, right?

"We should probably head back, congratulate them and all that," Claire broke through some of the awkward silence. "Then I'm probably going to head home." She stood up, stretching herself to awake any potential sleeping muscles. She briefly glanced at the horizon where the ocean touched the sky and smiled briefly. Another year officially made its entrance. She started for the square. Sand stuck itself to her coat, but at that point, Claire was just done for the night.

"Solid plan," Gray said as he followed her. "But I would add one more to that: the Mayor always gives out extra buckwheat flour, and I noticed how much you liked the noodles."

"They were some delicious noodles. I think I will grab some of the flour."

As they got closer to the square, reaching its entrance, Gray suddenly spoke again, "If you need company on your walk back-"

"I'd love that," Claire interrupted. She looked at him and smiled, and he did the same.

Zebras = refs, for the record xD
I only say this cause I realize not everyone is hockey nuts like I am Lol

Anyways, hope you enjoyed! And I'll see ya in the next chappy! :)
Feedback most welcomed!