Tim drums his fingers on Lucy's kitchen island as he waits for her to get dressed and ready for the station's holiday party.

He had a feeling she would take longer than he'd expected to get dressed – maybe that was his fault for convincing her to shower with him – but she's usually pretty punctual and now he finds himself getting anxious.

"Lucy?" he calls, his tone indicating a question, asking if she's almost ready or not.

"Almost!" she returns.

They've always had a shorthand about them, coming from years of working together side by side. He shouldn't be surprised that it's spilled over into their relationship, but sometimes everything still surprises him, including the fact they're here. It's been nearly a year; he supposes he shouldn't still be feeling like it's all a dream.

At this point, he's wondering if it's going to feel like that forever.

He finally hears her shuffling around, hears the sound of her heels clacking on the floor which means she's finally put them on, and he knows that's the last part of her getting dressed routine. He hears her mumble something to herself about not forgetting something, hears her grab something from the closet, and then she appears in front of him.

"Ready," she says as she steps out of her bedroom with a soft smile, latching the back of her earring.

Tim takes her in, momentarily. The hair, in curls. Not her usual curls, the ones she's spent an hour painstakingly crafting. The dress – one he's never seen before, with an open back save for the two tiny straps that crisscross in the back and red, for Christmas he supposes. The necklace that dangles down to her cleavage, teasing him personally. The strappy heels that reveal her red toenails that somehow perfectly match the shade of the dress.

"I want to stay here."

Lucy rolls her eyes. "Tim."

"I want to stay here and take that dress off you."

She can't help but grin at him. "I'm sure you do, babe, but we have to go. If we don't leave now, we're going to hit traffic and then we'll be so late we miss the food. Then you'll be hungry and grumpy all night and just want to leave."

He stands up, walks towards her, and she takes a step back in order to avoid the temptation that she knows will come if he puts his hands on her. "I'm already going to want to leave," he informs her.

"Patience," she says to him. "You can hang in there for a few hours. It's not like we didn't just get out of the shower together."

"Lucy," he whines.

"And stay away from me!" she teases as she makes her way around the island.

There's a glint in his eyes. "Why? You have no resolve either?"

She ignores his attempt to challenge her. "You know I don't. C'mon, let's go. We can have fun later."

"I might be getting sick. We should stay home," he tries, advancing on her and she finds herself cornered by the refrigerator.

"Tim."

"Car won't start."

"No one's going to believe that."

"Looks like we're snowed in for the night."

She rolls her eyes, laughing. "As if anyone in Los Angeles can use that line."

He chuckles and advances on her anyway, and she lets him. He backs her up against the refrigerator, kissing her, letting his hands roam to her bare, exposed back as she hums into the kiss.

"You sure you want to go to this thing?" he asks, resting his forehead against hers.

"Well, less sure now that I was two minutes ago," she admits and he snorts in triumph as she swats at his shoulder in response. "But yes, come on. I took a long time getting ready. Everyone's going to be there. It's our first time going to one of these as a couple. And," she grins as she sneaks a quick kiss, surprising him, "it'll build up the anticipation for later."

"I wish we were snowed in."

Lucy laughs, pushing him away gently and moving to grab her purse from the counter so they can go. "I promise you, the wait will be worth it."

"Always is," he tells her as he helps her put on her coat, flashing her a warm smile that makes her melt a little and kiss him on the cheek.

He starts humming and she looks at him, trying to figure out the tune when she rolls her eyes as she realizes it's White Christmas.

"C'mon," she pats him on the shoulder. "The sooner we get there, sooner we can get home."