It may be a tad, late, but here is the start of a four-chapter Christmas-themed story. I had every intention of having it out before Christmas, but funnily enough, when the idea only comes to you a couple days before Christmas and you have obligatory family gatherings to attend to, it's a little hard to get a story written. (I even attempted to write a little at my sister's house on Christmas eve while everyone was distracted).

As always, I don't own the characters, just using them for my own amusement. Any mistakes, though, are mine and mine alone.

In the Bleak Midwinter

Chapter 1

Lester

The door to the post office opened, admitting an icy blast along with the latest patron, and causing a shiver to course down my spine as I turned to catalogue the newcomer. I'd discovered in the hour that I'd been standing there, that there were three kinds of people that walked through that door on Christmas eve. 1) People conducting their usual business in a calm, if eye-rolling fashion. 2) Harried men and women who need their packages posted at least a week ago. And 3) people who walk in, see the line, and walk straight back out again. If I was being honest, I was in the second category of people, having completely forgotten that I would need to mail my gift for Abuela Rosa to Florida until I'd arrived at the traditional Christmas Eve family gathering and remembered she wasn't going to be there.

I'd been in the house a total of six minutes before I was promptly shooed back out the door, into the cold, to rectify my fuck up. I tried to insist that Bobby had to come with me, since he was supposed to remind me to mail the package, but my mother wouldn't have it. No, Bobby could do no wrong in the eyes of Liliana Santos. Anyone who could disrupt the pattern I'd gotten into of sleeping with a different woman almost every week was a saint, as far as she was concerned. It didn't matter that I'd specifically tasked him with not letting me forget to mail the package. As Tia Maria had admonished, she was my abuela, and if I loved her I would have remembered to send it in time.

So, while I was trapped in this unmoving line, he was back at the house, probably sipping the good wine. The only thing keeping me sane was making up stories for all the people coming into the post office. I'd decided that the old lady three people behind me in line was only here to pay her heating bill, even though her tech savvy son-in-law had set up internet banking on her phone. She didn't trust anything wireless. The man behind her was shipping a car overseas piece by piece judging by the array of large boxes in the shopping cart he'd commandeered from the grocery store down the street. And the woman who'd just entered was-

Alarm bells started sounding in the back of my brain as I scanned her from the top of her frizzy curls to the tip of her snow boots. She wouldn't have activated my protective instincts if it weren't for the fact that, other than the boots, she did not appear to be dressed at all for the weather. She had no coat, no scarf, no hat, no gloves. In fact, I was fairly certain she was wearing pyjamas and nothing else. And it was fifteen degrees outside.

As I watched, she stamped off her boots, shook some of the snow from her hair, and tucked her hands into her armpits. Her breathing was erratic, which could have been because it was so cold out and she wasn't at all equipped for it. But it also could have been because she'd been running, or she was upset, either of which seemed likely given the pyjamas realisation. No one just goes for a leisurely stroll in their pjs in the snow on Christmas Eve.

All in all, the only thing that did not concern me about her appearance was the boots. And that was mostly because I was assuming she had decently thick socks underneath. Which wasn't the kind of women's underwear that I was used to fantasising about.

She coughed lightly, using the hand that she brought up to cover her mouth to then push the mass of curls out of her face as she scanned the space. A few moments and a full body shiver later, she had apparently found what she was looking for and started shuffling through the throngs of people toward it. The way she kept glancing up as she moved prompted me to examine the ceiling in the general area I thought she was heading for, which revealed the air conditioning vent above the display of books in the corner.

Coming to a stop directly underneath it, she let out a contented sigh, tipping her head back with her eyes closed.

A little voice in the back of my mind was telling me to abandon the line I'd been standing in for over an hour and go talk to her, see if she needed help. But the weight of the package tucked under my arm gave me pause. Mama would box my ears if I returned to Tia's house without mailing it when she'd sent me out specifically to do so. On the other hand, there was absolutely no way it would make it to Florida by tomorrow morning, so Abuela was going to box my ears next time she saw me anyway. Delaying it to help a woman in need would neither help nor hinder any arguments that could be made to dissuade Abuela of my punishment when it should have been mailed a week ago, but it may help with Mama.

I weighed my options for several moments, glancing between the six people still ahead of me in line, and the woman as she got her breathing under control. She appeared calm, having picked up a book to read the back, and I'd almost convinced myself to leave her be when her chin crumpled, and a tear escaped the one eye that I could see from this vantage point. There was no question of what to do then. I ducked under the rope that guided the queue through the store and slipped more easily through the crowd than she had managed a few moments ago.

She still had the book in her hand as I approached, but she was swiping away the tears that had been falling, sniffing delicately, and doing other things to try to make herself appear normal and stable.

"The bookshop down the street sells that book for a fraction of the price," I said casually, reaching for a grow-your-own crystals kit from the shelf. "If it's the price that has you upset. And it's still open for another hour." It wasn't my smoothest opener, but to be fair, most of my good openers were pick up lines, and while I definitely could have used one on her and still made my mission of ensuring she was okay, they didn't suit the situation.

She must have been oblivious to the world around her, though, because no sooner had the words left my mouth than she was jerking in surprise, fumbling the book for a moment before clutching it to her chest almost like a shield. The position as she turned to face me made it clear that in addition to not having appropriate outerwear for the weather, she was also not wearing a bra, her breasts squishing out in a very organic way that would have been very distracting if it weren't for the fact that her turning had also revealed the left side of her face to me for the first time, complete with a fresh, dark purple bruise blooming on her cheek.

I couldn't have stopped my hiss if I'd tried. "Are you okay?" I asked, dropping all pretence of being interested in the kit I held as the alarm bells that had been sounding in the back of my mind escalated to full-blown sirens.

"Yeah," she said quietly, her voice husky. "Just needed to get out of the cold for a bit. It's really coming down out there."

I didn't doubt that, but it was, at the same time, a bold-faced lie. She was far from all right. I didn't know this woman from a bar of soap, but I did know what a fresh bruise looked like, and I'd been around the block enough to know that in general, most women of sound mind weren't in the habit of going out for a walk in their pyjamas to freeze to death. My instincts told me there was a strong chance she was fleeing an unsavoury situation even as other, less alarming causes for her appearance and emotional state flashed through my mind. I needed more information to be sure she was as okay as she was claiming to be.

Before I could say anything more to gain intel about her current situation, though, she turned abruptly, muttering something about being busy and took a single step away. A fresh gust of wind sailed in through the door with the latest person to enter the space and she halted with another full-body shiver.

"Okay," I said, closing the gap between us. I shrugged out of my coat and automatically started bundling her into it with almost zero resistance. "I'm not going to force you to tell me why you're out and about in your pjs without a coat in this weather, but I am going to insist you take mine. And if you won't let me take you somewhere to get your cheek looked at, then at least let me buy you a coffee."

She stared up at me, her blue eyes wide with wonder, even as another tear tracked down her injured cheek. "A coffee would be nice," she agreed raspily, punctuating the words with a sniff and a cough. She raised the too-long sleeves of my coat to catch the cough instead of sputtering directly into my face. After a moment, she swallowed with a grimace, lowering her hands, and eyeing me sheepishly. "Sorry," she muttered.

"All good," I assured her, resisting the urge to tuck a curl that had fallen in her face during the coughing fit behind her ear. Just for something to do with my hands, I zipped her into the coat instead. "That coat's seen a lot worse, believe me."

A sweeping gesture to the door was all it took to get her walking along beside me, and a moment later we were stepping out onto the sidewalk, a strong, lazy wind blowing straight through us and almost making me regret giving up my coat. Almost. Once upon a time I'd been conditioned to withstand extreme temperatures and a full gambit of torture methods, so I could deal with the cold long enough to get to the next enclosed space. I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets and tilted my head down so that I was semi-tucked into my scarf as I lead her down the street toward my SUV. My fingers wrapped around the key fob in my pocket and hit the button to unlock it without venturing back into the air, but a moment later I was pulling my hand out to open the passenger door for her anyway.

"I'm Lester, by the way," I said when she paused beside me, eyeing the car suspiciously.

"Steph," she replied automatically. She glanced from me to the car and then down the street behind me.

"That cafe has the worst coffee I've ever tasted," I informed her, thinking she was wondering why we didn't just walk to the other end of the street. "And I say that with authority, having once had a coffee made by my nephew who didn't realise that coffee grounds were not, in fact, dirt retrieved from the backyard. You sound like you're already sick, so the last thing I want to inflict on you is that coffee." I jerked my head in the direction of the cafe so she knew I was referring to it, and not the dirt water I'd been served a few years ago.

She nodded. "Yeah, the coffee's terrible," she agreed. "But they do good cake."

I let another charming smile loose. "So long as they're not completely useless," I said with a shrug, stepping away from the open car door. "Shall we go find a decent coffee, though?"

Steph took another hard look at me, narrowing her eyes as she weighed me up. "I've had enough of shitty men today," she warned, wiping her nose on the sleeve of my coat. "So, if you try anything I will make you regret it."

I nodded solemnly, raising a hand to my heart. "Scouts honour," I said. "But in the spirit of full disclosure, I should warn you that my plan was actually to take you back to my Tia's house. They have a coffee machine that makes it perfect every single time."

Her eyebrows rose. "Your Tia?"

"My aunt. It's just around the corner," I assured her. "I figured it might be a better option than taking you to my place back in Trenton. Plus, Tia will be there to make sure I don't do anything stupid." Along with my fiancé, who could check out the bruise on her cheek, I added to myself.

"She won't mind you bringing a stranger over?" she asked uncertainly.

The softly pleasant smile I'd been maintaining to put her at ease spread wider as I replied, "She's used to me bringing home strays."

She hesitated only a second longer until another gust of wind drove through us again. She shivered and nodded, "Okay," she agreed, slipping into the passenger seat, and looking back up at me. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." I closed the door on her and made my way around the front of the car to the driver's side, tossing Abuela's package into the back seat and immediately cranking the heater up. The drive to Tia Maria's house was only five minutes, and the heat would likely take almost that long to kick in, but the two minutes I'd spent outside without my coat had me chilled to the bone. I wondered how long Steph had been out in it before she entered the post office, and if she'd managed to thaw out enough while she was inside that the addition of my coat had kept her warm.

"So, tell me," I started, pulling away from the curb and carefully navigating the busy streets. "What possessed you to run around Newark in your pyjamas on Christmas eve in a snowstorm?"

"I caught my husband cheating on me with my high school bully," she said tersely, staring out the window so I couldn't see her expression through the mane of curls around her face. "I came home from work early, because I wasn't feeling well. Changed back into my pjs, and was taking a nap in the bedroom. I woke up to a banging noise and thought someone was at the door, so I stumbled out of bed, but as I moved down the hall, I realised that the noise wasn't coming from the entryway but the dining room. I thought to myself, Why is Dickie banging on the table? Then I stepped into the doorway and realised he wasn't just banging on the table, he was banging Joyce Barnhardt on the table."

"Fuuuuuuuuuck," I breathed, cutting my gaze to her again. "What did you do?"

"I screamed and threw a vase at them," she said numbly. "It was a wedding gift from his sister, so I wasn't upset when it shattered on the table beside them. Then I grabbed my boots and walked out of the apartment, and didn't stop walking until I reached the post office."

I noticed she didn't mention any events that would have led to the facial bruise, but from the way her voice had grown thick, I figured it was already costing her enough emotionally to relive what she'd told me, so I didn't push it for now. "Well, shit," I uttered after a moment as we turned into Tia's street. "Now I'm glad I decided to take you home with me instead of just finding a diner or cafe that's open. That's the worst thing that could happen to a person on Christmas Eve."

Surprisingly, the space I had parked in when I arrived at Tia's house the first time, directly out front, was still available. This meant that no one new had arrived in the time I'd been out. The house had been fit to burst when I'd left, and as I shut off the engine now, I catalogued all my cousin's cars except one, and the likelihood that the last one would arrive before it was time to sit down and eat was slim to none. And that was if he deigned to show up at all.

A cry of Tio Lester's back reached my ears as I rounded the car to help Steph, out and by the time I'd gotten her to lift her gaping jaw, assured her that her presence would not be interrupting the festivities and lead her to the front porch, Tio Ricardo was there to greet me. (Heaven forbid anyone arrive at this house without being met at the door).

"Lester," he was saying as he opened the door. "How was the post-offi-" He cut himself off when he caught sight of Steph beside me, fairly swallowed up by my winter coat. "You brought home another stray," he pointed out without losing his welcoming tone, but I could feel his exasperation leaking into the air as he pushed open the screen door to admit us.

When I was a kid I'd spent half my school vacations with Maria and Ricardo, and every year, without fail, I'd manage to find a stray animal and bring it home to take care of. A dog, a cat, a bird. And every year, without fail, when Dad picked me up to take me home, he'd refuse to take the animal too. Tio Ricardo had been stuck taking care of countless animals because of me, when I made him promise not to get rid of them when I left. After a couple years, he'd gotten wise and when I brought home a stray, we would take a trip to the SPCA, who would happily take the animal in, and prevent the inevitable day when Ricardo gained a new pet at the end of the holidays.

"Told you they're used to it," I muttered, leaning close to Steph as she removed my coat and hung it on the rack just inside the door. "This is Steph," I said louder, to Ricardo. "I found her wandering the streets with no coat. Steph, this is my Tio Ricardo."

"I have to admit, this is the first time he's brought home a woman," Ricardo said as he closed the door behind us. "Usually they're animals that I need to take care of when he leaves to go home. I assume you're capable of taking care of yourself?"

"Yes sir," Steph said with a sniff, dipping her head so that she was staring at his shoes. "I'm sorry to intrude."

Ricardo let out a soft laugh and reached out to lift her chin, waiting until he had her full attention before he spoke quietly, but with as much conviction as I'd ever heard in his tone. "You're not intruding, dear girl," he assured her. "I know that if Lester brought you home then you must have been in need, and there is more than enough food to go around. My wife always cooks for triple the number of guests we'll have." His thumb stroked lightly over her bruised cheek before he retracted his hand and he travelled his gaze swiftly over the rest of her. "Lester, go get Bobby to check her over. I'll take Steph upstairs and find her something other than these thin pyjamas to wear. I'd hate for you to feel even more out of place." The last was said to Steph as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and started leading her toward the stairs.

I guessed I'd been dismissed