We Need A Little Christmas

As per tradition, while Keiran was undoubtedly visiting his parents, Avery had promised to stop by for at least part of Christmas day. When the two friends had met in their first year at University, he had quickly managed to convince her to share parts of her story that she usually would never mention. That, of course, led to his realization that she didn't have somewhere special to go for Christmas. Or anyone, really, to spend it with. Ever since his first invitation for Avery to join their family for Christmas, Keiran had never spent one without her.

This year, of course, things were a little different.

"So, Mr. Ivanov," Avery grinned at the name, "have anything else planned for tonight?"

With two days until Christmas, the two were enjoying what time Avery had off from work. They had learned the hard way that her returning to her typical work schedule after their time in Greece was exceedingly sad, if not frustrating at first. After a week or so it became normal, but their letters seemed to make the time go a little faster.

As she awaited his response, Avery stared sideways at the nearly oversized tree they had chosen a few days ago as her head lay in his lap. She had a rather stupid grin on her face that she could only partly claim was due to alcohol. Although it wasn't particularly typical of her to drink wine, it was something that the Hayes family seemed to take to around Christmas, and over time the habit had grown on her. Now, decorating the tree just didn't seem right without it. Thus, the evening had been spent drinking - though not as heavily as she would if she were out at a pub or the like - and putting up the new set of ornaments she'd gotten for their first Christmas. She couldn't tell if her laying against him bothered Robin, but once Avery had settled down across the couch and tried his legs out as a pillow, there was no going back.

Thinking about it being their first Christmas almost bothered her, though, as she considered the terms of the marriage law. What if Ana was somehow proved wrong, or the Ministry decided that enough was enough and repealed it? She couldn't see herself wanting to leave. The thought chilled her, causing her to tug a blanket over her shoulders.

Though it wasn't too very late at night, she had curled up next to him and the combination of warmth from the fabric and comfort from his touch had lulled her into a near-sleep state. Avery did her best to stifle a yawn as she toyed with the material that covered Robin's knee. Hopefully they could just spend the night talking or planning their next trip - the one to Greece had been particularly wonderful and Avery could easily see herself traipsing off to some other place with her Mr. Ivanov. But only if it meant that they could spend time being as carefree as the Greek islands had allowed.

Since returning from Greece life had settled into quite a similar pattern to before his wedding. Avery fit easily into his mold of life, leaving for work without waking him, being absent throughout the day, and then joining him again in the evening. Many nights they went out, both in large groups or just the two of them, indulging in drinking, dancing, and the same social life Robin had always possessed. The most surprising change was how comfortable he had become staying home at night, content with movies and board games, something that would have shocked and disgusted him only a month ago.

Robin genuinely looked forward to then times they spent together in the evening and apart from an occasional boys night he barely noticed her constant company. It felt natural to have her curled up against him and he loved her all the more for the ease and willingness in which she had slipped herself into his universe. Robin's hand ran through Avery's long hair which lay across his lap and on to the couch. He momentarily considered how nice it would be so stay like this forever; Avery close, Christmas music coming from the kitchen, the lights of the tree twinkling. It was enough to put anyone in the holiday spirit.

"No plans." He responded with a soft smile, this suddenly being a desirable thing. "Since you've got all this time off work I figured I would take some off too." With his absences, Robin had been demoted to substitute beater again and while it meant a slight pay cut it also gave him even more flexibility in his hours. "We can do whatever you want. Stay at home.." His fingers began absentmindedly tracing patterns on her shoulder and side. "I should probably go to see Roland and Mum at some point but I'll do that when you're busy." Even if Russia was home it was the last place Robin wanted to be on Christmas. If nothing else he would go to see Caspian and Pollux, who he was missing somewhat terribly despite having just seen them at the wedding.

"Really I think the only thing we need to be here for is Della and Gisele. They weren't quite sure how long they would be staying when I talked to them. Probably not until after Christmas though." Oh course it wasn't ideal to have the two newlywed couples move in together but with all of the difficulties Della had been having with trying to find a place to stay even temporarily, Robin hadn't been able to resist an open invitation to his spare room. Even in marriage, Robins apartment still felt like it half belonged to his Batman. Of course Robin hadn't mentioned his friends staying to Avery but with the casual way she had been treating the rest of his life he was sure she would have no problem with it.

After all, why did they need two rooms all to themselves?

Avery smiled contentedly at the feeling of his hand brushing through her hair. She had always missed her mother doing the same thing in Avery's youth when she couldn't sleep. She wondered, during the space between her question and his reply, if she just imagined that it felt as nice as it did because her memory suggested it, or if it was just because Robin was the one she was with in that moment. In the end, she decided it was a little bit of both.

Although her smile turned into a full-fledged grin at his words, she felt a little bad that he would miss out on something he loved so much because of her. She very nearly opened her mouth to say so, but he spoke again, stopping her. As his fingers grazed over her skin and the blanket she'd curled herself into, her hand moved to his thigh to imprint circles into the fabric in front of her face. “You really shouldn't change your travel plans, or take off of work because of me. Go if you need to. I'm always around.”

The hand not settled in front of her nose reached for Robin's, which she moved to a spot where she could see it as she toyed with his fingers and brushed her fingernails over the soft pad of his palm. The idea that she wasn't going anywhere was rather strange, but also very comfortable. Most days, he was home any time she was, but on those occasions when his time was needed elsewhere, Avery had spent hours going through what he seemed to call his 'stuff' room, taking books and the like up to the spare bedroom which entertained her more than the other rooms because of the slanted ceiling. It wasn't unusual for him to find her sitting about in there – though she imagined that the first time had been a bit of a surprise, if not amusing. She had come to know what to expect of him, and likely he could say the same.

Avery's brow furrowed at his next comments, not having caught word of these people before. “Wait, who is this? I don't remember you mentioning them.” She wondered for a moment if she should have known about these people he mentioned. Had she met them? She couldn't recall hearing their names at the wedding. Then again, her mind had been drawn to many things and she could have easily missed it. “Are they coming tonight? I haven't cleaned the guest room.”

Robin smiled at her offer and decided he wouldn't mention it had been less of a stepping down and more of an instruction. He needed to work with Jack on his but that confrontation discussion could wait until after Christmas. It wasn't as if he particularly wanted to go back to work on a semi-full-time basis but he was sure that no one in the family would be pleased with his drop in responsibility. While Quidditch Player wasn't the respected title every father dreamed of for their child, it certainly sounded better than 'unemployed'.

At Avery's second comment Robin's eyebrows furrowed in questioning. Had he really neglected to mention Della in all the time they had spent together? The brunette had been a part of his world for so long that it seemed impossible for Avery not to know her.

"You know, Della. She was at the wedding. But no, they shouldn't be here for a couple days." Robin hadn't realized that his hand had stopped stroking her hair, settled and still now. "Besides, you don't need to clean. She's never minded the mess before and she knows what she's getting into."

Della had always been a good match, room-mate wise, for Robin. While she had never officially shared his house there had been stretches where she had occupied his bed more often than she had her own. Neither had minded the wonky schedules, mess, or the others odd drinking habits. Little bits and pieces from Della's stays littered about his apartment, hiding in playing sight. Lighters, underwear, toothbrushes, crumpled up Potions homework, and Quinn coffee mugs all had their rightful place in his home.

Gisele's visits were a more recent addition to his life. Della had never really liked the idea of introducing Robin to her girlfriend and they had more or less remained in separate worlds, hearing stories of eachother but nothing more. It was only after their reunion and return as a married couple that Robin had started to see Gisele almost as often as he saw her wife. The pair had been getting along surprisingly well considering they had been sharing a lover and Robin really didn't mind having a more sensible voice around the house.

"It'll be fine, they stayed here over the honeymoon." Now was as good of a time to offer that information as any. Robin knew he probably should have told Avery beforehand but hey, better late than never. Right?

His hand stopped, making her feel strangely nervous as though she had done something wrong or was in trouble for not remembering. Avery was still getting used to his actions and sometimes misread them even after three months of knowing him and spending so much time around him.

Frowning at his mention of the wedding, Avery sat up and let the blanket fall from her shoulder to her lap. Her frown deepened as she let her legs uncurl and move to the floor so she could look at him properly. "I don't know if you recall, sweetheart, but I was a little bit distracted at the wedding. I didn't exactly have time to meet everyone."

Her words were harsher than she intended them, having meant to go for an overly-sweet, still not-quite-friendly tone. Instead her voice was relatively flat, so when added to her disapproving expression it clearly was negative rather than some falsely kind words he could pretend to misunderstand. It was a little too late to take it back, though, so she let the annoyed part of her rise to the surface.

"They did?" Avery's eyes widened. She couldn't see, really, why it should bother her. It wasn't even her place, technically. Even now it didn't quite feel like it belonged to her. She had no right to be upset. But she couldn't shake the general feeling of disease and anger that was prodding at her.

It wasn't until she had turned to look at the tree again that she remembered his other words. The girl, Della, had stayed over before. A lot, she guessed. That certainly complicated things, didn't it? Now Avery couldn't stop the dark part of her mind that wondered why, exactly, Robin had invited the girl over. Keiran hadn't said anything about her, but his reaction at their match had terrified her. Was this girl one of many she didn't know about? It may not have even been just women, for all she knew.

Robin could probably see her working through all of this in her mind, Avery knew, but she just kept very still and leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. It wasn't like Robin could know why Avery was thinking so hard about all of this. She hadn't explained what happened to make her so distant from the rest of her family. After seeing Claire at the wedding, Avery had refused to mention them at all. Sure, he didn't seem to be interested in her sister anymore, but the panic of his wanting someone - anyone - else was back.

At this point, though, Avery just felt like getting a drink. Something stronger than the rather weak wine she'd opened earlier in the evening. Something that would burn on the way down. Robin had seen her crying - something she loathed the idea of - but he wasn't about to see her fear. Better, she decided, to be angry than scared. If he did, in fact, prefer someone else and just avoided saying it because of the law, Avery would have no problem yelling or taking back the things she had promised in her vows.

She wouldn't mean it, of course, but it would just be easier. Alcohol probably wasn't a good idea, considering how seriously she was thinking about that happening.

Pushing the blanket away, she stood and made her way into the kitchen, ignoring the relatively cheerful notes from the Christmas music. Luckily, one of the first things she had learned about Robin's home was where he kept the alcohol. Avery nearly hoped he would just stay on the couch, if only so she could down a glass of the bourbon she'd picked before he figured out that he might should check on her.

"Didn't I say-?" Robin attempted to supply, though he couldn't even bring himself to pretend innocence. Now that the subject had come up he was entirely positive that he had never run the idea of renting the apartment out while they were off on holiday. It had never even occurred to the young man that this was something he should be telling his wife. The concept of 'their' home was amazingly new to him and somewhere in his mind he still believed it was not quite true. He had picked this house out, purchased it, and lived here for many years. It was understandable that he wasn't overly ready to give Avery half ownership just yet, wasn't it?

Avery's face was quickly falling from dark to darker and Robin's danger meter began spiking dramatically. She stood and moved to the kitchen, leaving Robin to wonder vaguely what he had done. He began to realize that including Avery in details about their life together might be considered semi-important to females but he certainly didn't think a little mess-up like this warranted a storm out.

If there was one thing Robin had learned in his short time being married it was most things women did made very little sense. He had always gotten along well with girls and spent more than his fair share of time with them but being married revealed a whole new level of the female psyche. Or maybe that was just the Avery psyche. Either way, he recognized that he was at fault for some unknown reason and it was now his job to attempt to make amends for his unintentional wrongdoings.

Pulling himself up from the couch, Robin followed Avery's path. He found her pouring a drink in the kitchen - something much stronger than what they had been drinking all night. This was only concerning when combined with the expression on her face. "Uh," he lingered on the other side of the bar, a safe distance from his wife. "I'm sorry?"

Avery wasn't given the time she had desired to gulp down whatever alcohol she could manage, but his obvious unease in her presence made her deflate slightly. She downed the glass regardless, knowing that she was still angry and hoping it would ease her frustration as well as her self-caused (well, mostly. She could own up to 'mostly') pain. It stung, but Avery wasn't about to complain. It meant it would do the job.

In any case where she was actually sober and cognoscent of why her emotions did or did not make sense, Avery would have taken pity on him. In her slightly fuzzy state, though, she had trouble keeping a level head. If she had been paying attention, she would have asked Robin to make her a note with a warning against drinking during a fight.

"It really.. It doesn't matter." Avery replied to his attempt at an apology. She could tell he was confused, but couldn't seem to stop talking. Desperate, though she was, to pour another drink, Avery wasn't sure Robin would let her. Her hand toyed with the rim of the container hopefully. "You know, I realize that this place isn't at all mine. Not even partly. I know that. It may never be, or even feel that way. But I don't think it would be so horrible for you to maybe offhandedly mention that some woman I don't know - who well may have slept there before - would be using your bed. Yes, I know that's yours as well."

Why was she even doing this? Avery couldn't place the feeling running through her veins and pinching at her heart. She hadn't felt anything like it since she realized her family was no longer hers. Since then she had striven to ensure she would never feel that way again. But here she was in her ridiculously overbearing self, and it was like she was explaining to Claire all over again that their parents would never get re-married.

The countertop had become a sort of crutch as she leaned over it in an attempt to keep it together. She needed to get out her words before they left her with nothing but an angry husband and a guest room to sleep in until a hangover greeted her in the morning.

"Della.. She has, hasn't she? Recently, probably."

Avery didn't think she wanted him to answer, so she just stated at Robin in the hopes that he couldn't find the nerve to admit it. Her mind seemed to be stuck, perpetually, on her memories of their wedding, because her next words were stinging her as they left her mouth. "Have you forgotten the promises you made in your vows already? You said you wanted to earn my trust in all things. I remember those words distinctly, because they ran through my head the entire night. After Claire showed up, I had to convince myself you meant it. Now, I'm stuck again, Robin, because I don't feel like you're telling me the whole story." Avery's eyes flicked between his as if she could read his thoughts or see his memories in doing so.

Suddenly, she let out an audible gasp of surprise and slight pain as her brow furrowed and she set the now-empty glass back on the countertop. Avery knew. She had been right, about Della being one of the people Robin had some semblance of a relationship with in the past. Like Claire, except Avery couldn't sit about and assume he had proposed to this girl, too. He hardly seemed like the proposing type in the time she'd known him.

She was right, and he hadn't seen fit to mention it.

Granted, if her mind hadn't been clouded with the numbing buzz of alcohol, Avery may not have been so incredibly offended by this. She shouldn't have expected him to tell her about every person he had ever been with. Except that she hadn't been with anyone else, especially not in the way she was sure Della had been with Robin. So her traitorous mind started shouting at her that he clearly didn't think of their extremely personal activities the same way she did.

In that moment, though, Avery found that she couldn't dislike the woman in as much as she had never met her, and that she couldn't hold Della's interest in him against her. But at the same time, Avery wasn't entirely sure she wanted to meet his ex-whatever-she-was whenever she arrived with her friend. Unfair judgements would be made by Avery - especially about herself - and it would just cause more pain than anything else. Even more than resentment or anger.

"I can't, Robin." Her eyes narrowed at him to keep herself from wanting to cry. Anger was better than tears. Her hand shook as she spoke, matching the disappointed shaking of her head. If she was wrong about the two of them, it was too late now, because the words didn't seem to want to stop. "I can't trust you if you won't tell me things like this. What if she had told me about the two of you? Do you have any idea how that would have felt? Lucky you, I guess. You don't have to wonder. You can rest easy knowing I don't have any of those stories." The last sentence flew out of her mouth, leaving such a bitter aftertaste that she wished they'd never come out at all.

Her stare fell to the glass in her hand before she released it and brushed past him to search for parchment in his so-called Stuff Room. There had to be some in there somewhere. After rifling through some stray papers, Avery's gaze alighted on a blank piece and she snatched it up along with a nearby quill.

As much as she wanted the argument to be over, Avery had a blinding desire to both insult him in showing him the letter as she wrote it, as well as a need to offer him one moment to know that she wasn't just up and disappearing. He would know who to look for. Her feet carried her back into the kitchen where she spread the parchment on the counter and bent over it to write.

"Keiran. Drinks. Ten minutes. -Avery."

He would know something horrible had happened. He would be wrong to assume he was forgiven, but with Gavin not being back from his honeymoon as far as Avery knew, she was short on options. She needed a man's perspective on this.

If she didn't need his voice in the matter, Avery would have just left. Unfortunately, all Avery wanted to do in that breath of time was to run home - to the flat she still considered her home (especially now, when her constant presence in his house didn't seem to mean it was hers in the slightest) - and fall through the doors into Mira's momentarily surprised and then undoubtedly welcoming arms. It would take a moment after her feet landed, Avery mused, for the panic to set in. For Mira to realize this wasn't a surprise visit because it was nearly Christmas.

She didn't realize she was moving to the window during her mental ramblings a until the chill hit her. Avery's hand reached for the owl that came to the windowsill and tied on the letter before watching the bird fly away into the aching cold of the night's snowfall. She wasn't looking forward to going out in that. Robin's home needed a damn floo. Or even just a fireplace for in the winter.

Turning towards the living room once more, Avery wasn't sure if he was saying anything. The rush she felt in her desire to leave made it hard to focus on anything else. Finally, she recalled where she had left her jacket and shrugged it on before stepping into her boots. She was completely over feeling like anyone she needed or wanted in her life would go away. Like they would inevitably leave and move onto bigger and better things and people, like Avery guessed her family had. All she wanted was to fall into the oblivion she so rarely allowed herself near, where she could get lost and have Keiran drop her at home in the wee hours of the night.

She probably shouldn't have requested Keiran meet her for drinks when she was so far down the road to being smashed already. She shouldn't have opened the door and marched out into the snow in front of Robin's place - especially without a scarf.

She definitely shouldn't have failed to notice she was in love with him until her feet left the pavement.




((OOC: had to type this on my phone and I may not be able to post again until tomorrow or the next day. So I wanted to get this plot movin so we could also work on the heist, past, and weddings ones when I got back :)obviously, feel free to fill in the gaps and in my next post I can write her reactions/replies to whatever he says ^.^ ))

Robin sat down at the counter as she started to talk, waiting for the rant that he could feel oncoming. While shouting family was something he was more than experienced with, yelling lovers were a little different. Robin had never been in a situation where he could simply not walk away (or hide) from anyone who got particularly angry with him. There was never a legal document to bind him to the angry person, much less them sharing his home.

Though he had been thinking it himself, a pinch of guilt hit his stomach as Avery spoke. His house might have been his house but it still didn't feel good to know she felt that way. Robin stood from the chair he had just seated himself in and moved to grab and glass and the whiskey bottle from the cabinet. He poured himself a much-needed drink but made sure to keep a safe distance away from Avery, who was still fuming for a slightly cloudy reason.

Robin took a deep drink but nearly spit it out at her next words, as he finally realized what was bothering her. He knew this was exactly the wrong reaction to an angry wife, but he couldn't help but be ever so slightly amused at her obvious jealousy. It had been enough of a shock to learn he was the first person she had been with, but her reaction to learning about his past relationships was even more surprised. It really wasn't Robin's fault that he had dated before her and he began to recognize a spark of irritation by her words.

So, with Avery's next question, Robin's women-sense was overruled by his growing annoyance and he elected to answer her. "Yeah, actually." She seemed to be taken aback but not so much to stop her words and Avery continued on in her rant, causing Robin's eyebrows to shoot upwards and the traces of a lazy grin starting to tickle at the corners of his mouth.

"Okay." he held up his hands in an attempt to stop her. "I'm sorry I haven't told you every person I've ever shagged. I just though, you know, it wouldn't be the most pleasant conversation over dinner. But would you like me to share? I'd be more than happy to." Robin kept tally on his fingers as he absentmindedly listed off. "Della, Eli, Mira, Baldric -" after a moment he realized what a hole he was probably creating for himself and had the decency to stop. The slight smile that had crept up disappeared as he looked at her, the gravity of what was happening settling in.

"Wait, no. Avery, you weren't my girlfriend. You were never my girlfriend. I barely even knew you when Della was around so I won't let you make me feel bad for dating other people. I never lied to you in my vows or anywhere else. It's not my vault if you can't trust me. That's on you." Robin shrugged, dropping his eyes to his glass and taking another long drink, his throat burning pleasantly.

Avery left not long after and when the room was cleared Robin felt a sort of peace at the seemingly empty house. This is how he knew it and how he liked it. Robin had always done best on his own and he reminded himself he was a fool to play domestic. It was only when the door slammed behind her that Robin felt the the weight of her absence crash over the room and he downed the rest of the drink angrily. He wasn't sure if he was upset with himself, Avery, or the reasons for the argument. But what was done was done.

Robin poured himself another drink.

Her fault. She knew it was her fault, but she couldn't seem to stop the anger and despair growing in her stomach. His sudden aggression and the tone of his voice surprised her, even though it shouldn't have. She decided to hang propriety and have another drink, regardless of how much trouble she was getting herself into with what she'd already had. This wasn't feeling quite like Christmas together for the first time should have. Not at all like it, actually.

His words were right on the money if his goal was to hurt her. In her heart, she knew it was his right to feel affronted and angry because of her reaction to his announcements earlier. The list was what did her in, though. She didn't care anymore what she looked like or how he saw her. Frankly, all he was doing was making her angrier and he probably knew it. Avery heard a gasp that actually sounded like more of a sob, but didn't realize it came from her until she started talking again and had to clear her throat. That wasn't at all going to help her. It would just embarrass her more than she expected she would be when they spoke next.

If he would even talk to her after this mess.

She wished he wouldn't say her name. Before, the name in itself was practically an endearment when he said it. Now it stung. Avery couldn't come up with anything better to do than shoot back a retort as she left the room. “Well, I'm glad to know you thought so little of me. And still seem to.” She wanted so badly to find a way to injure him in return, but her words merely seemed to carve deeper into herself instead. His shrug had apparently set that idea in her brain and she couldn't get rid of it. “It may be my fault, but I would've thought you cared enough to want me to trust you.”

She wasn't helping herself. No, she just needed to get out. Damn it all, she had effectively ruined something that made her day feel brighter, and made going 'home' less painful. Why couldn't she have had to work over holiday? Avery found herself wishing she had just decided to go to the office anyway rather than writing to Keiran, but it had been done and she wasn't about to turn around and change her mind.

- - -

A knock sounded against the door of Avery's old flat – where her best friend currently resided. The noise was far too loud for Avery's ears, so she hid her face against Keiran's jacket. One glance down at her and the man knew she wouldn't be awake much longer. He was just lucky he'd convinced her to leave at all, nonetheless check where she wanted to go after. He hadn't been surprised when she listed her old place instead of Robin's. Keiran wasn't sure what her husband would do when she showed up again. By the sound of things – well, through her drunken explanation of things – he had picked up enough to know that Avery had screwed up. She seemed to realize this, subconsciously, even if her words suggested otherwise. At this point, Keiran sort of wanted to look at both of them and announce that they both were idiots and fixer-uppers and needed to ignore their problems.

”It was entirely un-unfair of him to just start listing off names of people he'd done it with,” Avery had gone on, pouting through her partially-slurred words. Her hand brushed the rim of the glass, running around the top over and over as if trying to convince herself that another drink was a bad idea. “I mean, it isn't like he would be angry that I hadn't anyone else to mention. You know, except him.”

Keiran was seriously about to take the drink from her and down it himself. He didn't want to get caught up in this, and he really wasn't sure he wanted to know all of this.

“How could he blame me for feeling ina-inadequate?” The word didn't come out quite right, but he caught it regardless.

“This isn't something I can fix, A. Have you told him why?”

“Why what?”

Ah. She was getting to the point where she couldn't keep up, and couldn't seem to keep her eyes open. “C'mon, love. Enough drink for you.”

Keiran frowned as he waited for the door to open. After he'd used the word 'love' something had changed in her eyes. Like she just wanted someone to call her something like that, some kind of nickname. Keiran wasn't sure she was even aware enough to realize it was him and not Robin sitting in front of her. He had never seen her so drunk. Had she ever been this drunk before? He doubted it. That meant she had no clue what she was doing or what was ahead of her when she woke.

Speaking of what she'd done: Keiran needed to get home and talk to Millie. Try and find a way to make it okay. He couldn't hide it from her. The Slytherin part of him suggested that Avery wouldn't remember anyways and he could probably get away without mentioning it. But the husband in him slapped the Slytherin in the face and told him to man up.

When the door opened to reveal a blonde woman, Keiran gave her an apologetic look. It was pretty late, after all, and he could have woken her for all he knew. “I-I'm sorry,” He began, attempting to ignore the fact that Avery was weighing him down as she leaned against him. “She wanted to be here. I'm not sure she can go home right now. They fought – something awful I think.”

He wondered if he looked guilty, standing there and holding her up with both arms. He must. Every move of his mouth felt strange and wrong and he just wanted to hide at Mira's as well if it meant Millie wouldn't be mad at him.

“Can I- Are you... Should I bring her in?” Keiran offered finally, unsure of himself and letting out a small huff as he shifted Avery so she was easier to keep on her feet. A grumbled sentence left her lips as he glanced from her to Mira. All he caught was Robin's name.

- - -

This was bad. This was so very bad. His day had been going rather well – wrapping gifts while Millie was out with friends, helping his mum with lights outside and the like – until he got her letter. Now it was nearly two in the morning and he was just getting back. This was one of those horrible, no good, very bad days. Keiran wasn't even sure if Millie would still be up. He sort of hoped she wouldn't be. But then, it was two days until Christmas (well, one if he was going to point out that it was officially Christmas Eve) and they kept seeming to stay up later and later playing games or drinking and chatting. Bridget had put on movie nights a couple times since her son and his wife had shown up so it wasn't too unusual to see lights on in the living room at this time of night.

When his feet hit the ground he saw that he was right. The tree was still lit and he could see the living room light still on – a shadow pacing back and forth in front of the curtains. He started towards the house, staring at the window and hoping it wasn't Millie. The curtain lifted but he couldn't see the face behind it. It seemed like something his mum would do, pacing. But then, he'd never seen Millie very upset.

Keiran wasn't sure what he expected to find when he opened the door. Would she be concerned if he didn't return until late? His mum definitely would be. He hadn't mentioned going out to see Avery. He had no idea what she would've done if he hadn't gone, though. She was clearly mad at herself and jealous of Robin – something Keiran had never expected of her, if he was being honest.

Keiran took a breath and pushed the door open, feeling a little bad about shoving the cold inside the house with him. His eyes automatically searched for Millie but when they landed on her face he wanted to hide. For once, he didn't feel in control of his facial expressions. It was like the mess with Lucy the cat and their breakfast. He could tell that his jaw was clenched and his brow furrowed in concern for both her feelings and his safety.

He stared at her for a moment, unable to form words until her name finally fell from his lips. “Melissa..” Guilt hurt worse than one thought before they made the wrong choice. This wasn't even his fault but he could feel the worry coming on. God, Avery's messed up so much tonight.

It had been one of those serendipitous days. It had opened up fair and golden, the Irish skies the slightest bit amiable than the English ones, leaving them a few hours before the clouds released their swells. It was under that warm shower that the youth tumbled into the small town that was a half mile or so from the grounds of the Hayes home. Their laughter bubbled up from their stomachs as hoods were blown down by the wind and umbrellas were turned inside and in the end they bundled up and apparated into the village, catching themselves on the cobbled path between the ale house and a small, independent bookseller. Old friends, new friends. They were together again.

Five of them: the Finnigan siblings, Zoe Lancaster, Steven Isaacs and Isobel Pepper. They roamed delightedly, their pockets swollen with pounds, coppers and gold. Silly trinkets and to-be-precious pieces were purchased from market and shop until the boys were left slumped against each other on a bench, cigarettes cocked awkwardly in their mouths and the girls’ purchases making up a mountain around them. The ladies, laughing and tumbling as ever, returned to spook their friends from their roosts and together they all returned, arms, legs, bags and wrapping everywhere as they stayed a while in order to wrap their presents.

Eventually though, company swept away and the Finnigan duo returned to the kitchen to help Bridget with her latest creation. Millie, in the end, ended up sitting on the island counter with a plate of mince pies and a small tot of rum to warm her through while Elliot roamed around, helping to heart’s content. In the end they made to begin dinner with Elliot set making his favourite – a loaf of bread – and Millie cutting up the vegetables they needed while Bridget worked on the meat. It was, however, when that got underway that Millie began to wonder after her husband.

Time passed. So did dinner. A plate of food for Kieran was put away while Elliot was sent down to the lab with one for Aiden. A movie was put in and supper was had. Then, everyone slowly began to move off to bed. Bridget went up first. The siblings were the hold outs with Elliot quickly falling asleep on the couch, Millie persisting in wakefulness, laid against his side only half-watching the film that was buzzing away on the screen. No sign. None at all.

Eventually sleep took her, too. Elliot’s arms tightened instinctively when he felt his sister relax against him and in a half-sleepy state he managed to draw up the blanket around her neck before dropping back into his dream as though he’d never taken a breath away from it. However, as the clock chimed away at twelve, calling in a solemn Christmas Eve, the young woman’s eyes twitched open once more.

Millie lifted herself up a little, her heavy lids parting the slightest to allow her to cast her gaze around the room. The fire was dying a little in the hearth and the trees still twinkled on the tree. The bottle of wine that Elliot had drank throughout the evening was halved, still, untouched with a little ring of the red in the bottom of his glass. Mince pies were eaten, half eaten or left in their pile. Chocolate had been unravelled and the movie, playing to itself, had started again.

The young woman pushed herself away from her brother, the blanket sliding off of her shoulders, and brought her stiff legs out from beneath her, dropping her sock-clad feet hesitantly to the floor. After tucking the blanket around Elliot, she moved off to start clearing up a little. She corked the wine and levitated the plates and general mess into the kitchen after her. The cleaning took her mind off of the absence she could feel palpably in the slight chill of the house but it only lasted so long and she was forced to return to the living room alone.

“Kieran,” Millie whispered testily under her breath, taking to the windowsill, peering out through the net curtains on the off chance that he’d be there. He wasn’t.

Thus, the wandering began. To each window. To the tree. To the television. To the small piano. To the windows. Around the coffee table. To check on Elliot. To wash a few more dishes. To make a cup of tea. Anything. Everything. Until he came in.

Turning away from the tree she’d been messing idly with, Millie’s face illuminated suddenly as though she herself had a wreath of fairy lights round her. She crossed the room in an instant, her hands thrusting out to curl around Kieran’s shoulders, tears rising in her eyes despite herself.

“I’ve been so worried about you!” She gushed desperately, bringing her hand to his cheek. “Where’ve you-”

Melissa.

It was never Melissa. It was Missie. It was love. It was Millie at its barest. Usually Missie. Always Missie. That was his name for her.
Melissa.

Millie stole her hands away from Kieran as though she’d been burned.

“Kieran?” Millie looked up at him fearfully, confusion written over her features. “What’s happened?”