an. Inspired by tcmtcltb-kals' outtakes and snapshots fictions, here are a collection of scenes that either didn't make the cut, have been sitting on my hard drive waiting for a storyline, were requested, or I simply felt like writing. Most are standalone, but anything significantly tying into my other stories will be noted. Multiple characters will make an appearance.

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Menorah

St. Augustine Universe: Christmas Day in St. Louis (Post S2)

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Carlton winced when the door creaked behind him, the jerk of his body causing the flames in his hand to flicker precariously. He stopped. The movement so abrupt that a bead of hot wax dripped onto his hand. Though he'd cringed, Carlton recovered, and continued pacing with tentative steps toward the bed, where finally, he could deposit the damn thing he'd spent most of his liberty sourcing upon the nightstand. Those flames once again danced, and he was unconscious of limiting his breath until they sputtered into a consistent glow.

So used to the rhythmic beeping, Carlton hardly registered the sound of Ravit's heart monitor anymore. It was late, and she was sleeping—as she mostly did—something Rios assured him was a good sign. As he sat in the chair beside her, his thoughts drifted. Cameron. His Ma and Pops, all those memories fresh and tender; still raw from the memorial they'd held earlier in the evening. Carlton found, unconsciously, that he'd taken her hand.

The singular good thing to emerge from the chaos.

Then, after a time spent wayward in the dark, he closed both eyes, and didn't open them again until movement made him alert. Though drowsy, Ravit was awake and peering at the Menorah.

"Where did you get that?" she croaked.

Lowering his feet from the bed, he smoothed his jeans and scooted the chair closer. "There's a temple a few blocks north. I thought you might like it. Happy Hanukkah."

For several moments, she only blinked while her eyes adjusted, and then she glanced at him. Her expression flatter than he'd hoped… "What makes you think I believe?"

Nervous, Carlton sat straighter. "You, uh. You said something when—Wolf said it was a prayer in Hebrew, so I just assumed—"

"Relax." She grinned at him. "Thank you… it's very thoughtful… but that's not how you use a Menorah."

Shit.

She snorted, the action causing her to wince. "You should see your face—"

"W-What do you mean? You light em' on Christmas—"

She laughed harder, then shook her head. "Stop. It hurts to laugh."

Flustered, Carlton rose from the seat. "Should I take it down?"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she again shook her head and suppressed more laughter. "Stop."

Slack jawed he sat. Trying to figure out exactly which part he'd messed up. He had the candles; they were all lit, there was one in the middle…

"You didn't have any Jewish friends growing up?"

His cheeks felt hot. "Well I mean we didn't—I didn't—" he sighed. "There wasn't much goin' on where I'm from…"

Smiling, Ravit took his hand. "I'm screwing with you."

"Should I take it out?"

"No." She squeezed his hand, and he began to relax, his elbows now resting on the bedcovers. "Really, it's sweet. Thank you."

X X X

"How'd she like it, mate?" Wolf asked, placing a tray on the table of the former steakhouse turned mess in the hotel's lobby.

Slow, and without warmth, Carlton glared at him. "When were you gonna tell me Hanukkah's not a Jewish Christmas, and you're not sposed' to light the whole thing at once?"

Beaming, Wolf took an extra-large bite of oatmeal and finished before confirming, "Never. Figured I'd leave that part up to you."

"Yeah," Carlton grumbled. "Dick."