Day 5

It was such a beautiful sound.

Vanora turned down the volume knob on the radio when it started. A sound sweeter than the music itself. A voice sweeter than those accompanying the music. She didn't turn the volume down too much, not wanting her husband to become aware of the fact that he was being listened to while he was singing a lovely rendition of "Silent Night" in the shower. She wasn't sure if it was something he was shy about.

Moffitt was shy about a lot of things. Vanora still loved him. In a way, his shyness was endearing, as he reserved being open for her. He could talk for hours about his work, as could Vanora. Their fields were different—his being North Africa, hers being magical history—but they both understood each other's passions, and it certainly made teatime interesting. They had great communication, and even better chemistry with each other. There was no better place than in his arms, and at times, she still couldn't believe this all started when she was invited to a presentation at Cambridge, he was the guest speaker, and she found him captivating in more ways than one.

His singing stopped when the song itself did. Vanora turned the volume up again when the host finished talking, and announced the next number, "The Holly and the Ivy." She smiled, and eventually, Moffitt's singing began again.

The water was turned off, and Moffitt could still be heard, even muffled under a towel. Vanora smiled when Moffitt stepped out of the bathroom. His dark hair was a mess from the towel, but he was still as handsome as ever—and since he just finished a shower, he smelled wonderful.

"What are you smiling about, darling?" Moffitt asked.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a lovely singing voice, Jack?" Vanora replied.

Moffitt's face reddened. "Oh, you… uh, you heard that, did you?"

"Of course."

"I… have been told that I have a nice voice, but it's… it's something I do because I enjoy it. I could never sing professionally. Too shy."

"Aww, Jack." Vanora's grin widened. "That's okay. You have me as your adoring fan."

"Thank you. You're all I need." Moffitt's face was still flushed. "When we were in Italy, in 1943, I performed a one-man concert on Christmas Eve for a battalion we were stationed near. I was quite a wreck. I got on that makeshift stage and suddenly I felt like someone put a noose around my stomach and pulled hard. I managed to sing, thank goodness, but afterward…" Moffitt shook his head. "I ran outside, and promptly vomited in one of the rubbish bins behind the mess tent."

"Oh, Jack." Vanora put her arms around her husband's neck. "You poor thing. At least you were able to do something nice for everyone that Christmas."

"There's that, but I doubt I'll ever be comfortable on stage again. I did that once because otherwise, that Christmas would've been quite dreary for everyone. Never again." Moffitt's blush faded a little. "I… would be happy to sing for you, though."

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I just said, I'd be happy to. Just for you, and only you." He held out his hand. "Shall we dance?"

Their dance consisted mostly of slow swaying and moving in a circular pattern around the kitchen, taking care to avoid bumping into the dining room table. Vanora kissed Moffitt's neck, just under where his jaw ended. He smiled at her, kissed her forehead, and began softly singing "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas."

The dance gradually came to a stop. Moffitt's forehead was pressed against his wife's as he continued the song to the end. Their noses touched, and Moffitt ended the song with a smile on his face. He nuzzled Vanora, saying as softly as he could, "Words alone can't express how much I love you."

"I love you, too, Jack," Vanora whispered.

"Have I told you that you've made Christmas more special ever since you came into my life?"

"You tell me every year."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I-I don't want to sound like a broken record."

"You don't have to apologize. I love hearing you tell me that."

"Well, in that case, I'm sorry for—"

"Jack, stop. You don't have to apologize."

For a moment, it looked like Moffitt was about to enter into another endless loop of apologies. That was one habit of his that Vanora didn't find cute at all. It was heartbreaking. Something somewhere in his past prompted him to shoulder the blame for everything, and it wasn't good for him. She was trying, gently, to break him out of it. Before Vanora's expression could sadden, Moffitt leaned in to kiss her. She put both arms around his neck, pulling herself as close as possible to him. His left hand gently took the back of her head. He ran his fingers through her short, mouse-brown hair, and began massaging her scalp when they briefly pulled apart to breathe, sending a pleasing tingle down her spine.

When they took in enough air, the couple resumed their kiss. Another song could wait.

Author's Note: I was informed by tallsunshine12 that Gary Raymond can sing, and after searching for some of his work, I decided to find a way to implement that a little into Moffitt. His singing of "The Holly and the Ivy" is a nod to tallsunshine's story "Red Light: A Christmas Tale."