your whole perspective gets hazy

Despite the sturdy walls of the old manor, the bitter wind still manages to find its way through the gaps in the windows, the wood—anywhere it can, really. Jamie thinks she should be used to it. This is how it gets every year—rain and ice and the occasional snowfall that will slick the roads up for a day or two and make the drive from town to the house even more of a headache than it usually is. 

But she isn’t. Jamie hates winters out in the country, and, apparently, they hate her back.

She shivers beneath the layers covering her body and bounces from foot-to-foot, rubbing her hands together as she waits for the kettle to whistle. Distantly, she can hear the children’s voices somewhere above her head. Miles is speaking loudly. Flora squeals, followed by a peal of laughter.

Jamie resists the urge to smile at the sound, even though it is good to hear them happy like this. After their parents, it seemed like they might never be again. Rebecca had done a little to lighten their spirits—especially Flora’s—but then there was that nasty business with Peter Quint, which certainly put a damper on things. And then she was gone, too—off to London to work with Henry.

But they’re getting better again, now. Have been since June. Ever since—

“Making tea?”

Jamie jumps at the sudden interruption to her thoughts. When she turns, Dani is standing there in just as many layers as Jamie is wearing. She smiles apologetically. 

“Poppins,” Jamie chatters. “I fucking hate you.”

Dani laughs at this, eyes bright and delighted at Jamie’s expense. “I thought you heard me come in.” She takes a few steps closer, sliding a little in her thick socks. 

“Should put a damned bell on ya’,” Jamie grumbles. If she wasn’t sure her eyes had completely frozen, she might have rolled them. Instead, she keeps her arms crossed tightly around her chest and shakes her head. “You’ve got a habit of sneakin’ up on people.”

Dani rolls her eyes because hers are perfectly fine. She gets to stay in the house all day, in cozy rooms with fireplaces, while poor Jamie has to go around the grounds and try to clear up any detritus left from storms—make sure her babies that can actually live through the winter are faring as well as they can. Her feet feel like blocks of ice, fingertips numb from the cold. She reaches out her hands and holds them near the kettle, letting the warmth from leech some of the cold from her bones.

“Oh, come here, you big baby,” Dani says, and the next thing Jamie knows, she’s being turned and pulled into a tight embrace.

She can feel Dani’s hands rubbing vigorously at her back, trying to create enough friction to carry the heat through the shirt she’s wearing over her sweater. Jamie tries to focus on that, because she needs a distraction from how good Dani’s hair smells, how well their bodies slot together, how much she never wants to let go. 

She can feel the press of Dani’s hips against her own and imagines uncrossing her arms and grabbing them so that she can pull Dani even closer. And Dani would pull her chin back from its resting place on Jamie’s shoulder so they could look at one another. So that Jamie could see that same heat and desire she feels reflected back at her and she’d lean in as Jamie tilted her chin up and—

Jamie tugs away from Dani’s embrace a little too quickly, nearly falling over in the process. With a deft catch of her wrist, Dani tugs her upright just in time, her expression bemused and just the slightest bit concerned. “Was it something I said?” she jokes, letting herself appear unaffected.

“No, no. I’m just...I’m warm now, thanks.”

It isn’t a lie. In fact, it feels downright sweltering now and Jamie considers stripping off some of her layers, but immediately crosses that out as strange behavior she doesn’t necessarily want to subject Dani to. Even though it makes her want to crawl out of her own skin, she keeps everything on. Lifting a hand, she attempts to fan her own face so she can try and rid herself of some of this excess heat.

Dani frowns. “Yeah, I see that,” she says, and then she has the back of her hand pressing against Jamie’s forehead. “You’re all red.” She hums thoughtfully and then trails her fingers down to trace the apple of Jamie’s cheek while Jamie bites her lip and tries very hard not to turn and catch those fingers in her mouth. “I think you have a fever.”

But, no. She doesn’t. She’s just got it really, really bad.

“I’m okay,” Jamie says, and Dani finally allows her hand to retreat. “Really.”

“Okay.”

The kettle chooses that moment to whistle—loud and bright. Jamie winces and whips around to grab it and lift it off the stovetop. Going through the motions of making two cups of tea, she tries to ignore the buzzing at the back of her neck, on the side of her face. Dani is watching her. She can feel it and she knows that if she just lifts her head and looks, she’ll have to meet her eyes.

She doesn’t lift her head and look.

“Are you excited for the party tonight?” 

“Define excited,” Jamie says.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Jamie turns and leans back against the counter, forcing herself to look at Dani again. Her nose is tinged pink from the cold and there’s a slight tilt to the edge of her lips, like she’s just on the verge of smiling. Her thick sweater, Jamie realizes, is patterned with big, white snowflakes and it would be tacky if it was on anyone else. Somehow, Dani makes it look adorable.

“Look, I’m all for free booze and candy canes,” Jamie begins. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s just...these holiday parties go on forever. I never know anyone and I’m shit at small talk.”

“You’ll know me,” Dani says. “Plus, Owen and Hannah and Rebecca.”

As she says it, Dani reaches out and touches Jamie’s arm, her fingers wrapping loosely around it. She squeezes lightly, her expression one of familiar endearment. Jamie feels herself shrink under the attention.

It’s not necessarily a touch that is overtly intimate. Jamie is fairly certain that she’s seen Dani touch Hannah and Owen or the children the same way. It’s how friends touch one another and, after six months of working together—six months of jokes in the garden, lunch with the others, drinks in the sitting room after the kids have gone to bed, drinks at the pub in town—that’s what they are to one another. 

Friends.

That’s all.

Jamie shuffles a little closer, wondering how she might return the touch in some way before it fades. She keeps her arms wrapped around her stomach.

“I promise to rescue you from any small talk or awkward interactions,” Dani says and Jamie can’t help but crack a smile at this. “I won’t send you into the trenches alone. We can stick together.”

“I’m holding you to that one, Poppins.”

“Besides, Owen said you guys usually eat in here away from everyone else. It’ll be fine.”

The moment lingers for a few more beats, allowing Jamie enough time to push those unwanted thoughts to the back of her head again. Finally, Dani drops her hand and reaches for one of the mugs of tea on the counter. She cups it in her hands and blows air across the steam, making it billow in small spirals and rise into the air, fading as it goes.

Instead of drinking it, she holds it out and offers it to Jamie, who is trying desperately to think of something else to talk about.

When their fingers brush in the pass-off, a thought strikes her with a harsh jolt.

“So, I got that package from the post for you,” Jamie says casually, as if the last five minutes never even took place. “Yesterday. Since they close early today and all.”

“You did?” Dani asks. “Thank you so much. I owe you.”

Jamie waves her off. “No worries. Wouldn’t want you turning to ice trying to walk to town to get it yourself.” Dani smiles and Jamie takes a sip of her tea, burning the roof of her mouth in the process. She tries to hide her wince behind another question. “What is it anyway?” 

Too late, she realizes she shouldn’t have asked that at all. What Dani has sent to her is none of her business.

Fortunately, Dani doesn’t seem put off in the slightest by the question. “It’s just a, uh…” She glances away, as if embarrassed. “My dress for tonight?”

Jamie’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Yeah?”

There’s a deeper pink on Dani’s cheeks now that doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the cold. “Yeah, I just...I saw this dress in this magazine and I thought—” She stops herself for a moment. “It’s stupid, but I thought it might—”

When she cuts off again, Jamie leans forward a little. “Might what?” she prods, as gently as she can manage.

Dani lifts her eyes again. “Nothing,” she says. “I just didn’t have anything else appropriate. So hopefully it actually looks okay and I don’t wind up the joke of the party.”

There’s an air of kidding to her voice, but Jamie freezes at the words nonetheless. Her heart squeezes a little—as it always does—at the thought of Dani—beautiful, funny, sweet, wonderful Dani—thinking so lowly of herself.

“Hey,” she says, trying to keep her tone firm. “I’m sure you’ll look great. I don’t actually think you’re capable of ever looking less than.”

The first few days that Dani had been around, Jamie hadn’t been able to do her job the way she always had before. Too often were her thoughts plagued with the curve of Dani’s lips and the line of her jaw, the way she scrunches her nose up as she laughs. In the months since then, it hasn’t gotten any better. Not really. The only thing that’s changed is what they mean to one another.

Jamie can no longer pine from afar. As it turns out, Dani grips tightly to those she cares about and she’d done that with all of them, including Jamie. Once she decides you’re going to be friends, she refuses to let you go. If it didn’t fill Jamie’s chest to bursting, maybe it wouldn’t be such a gift. But it does and Jamie hadn’t been able to keep herself from falling headfirst for the woman standing in front of her.

And now here Dani is, staring at Jamie in that trademark wonderment before her expression blossoms into something miraculous. She smiles and kicks half-heartedly at Jamie’s boots with her foot.

“Sweet talker,” she says. “Keep complimenting a girl like that and I might just have to keep you.”

Jamie swallows down her ‘ please do ’ by taking another drink of her tea and averts her eyes, just to keep herself on track. “I’ll make sure to get it to you before I head out later.”

There. What she really needed to say. There are still things to do to get the house ready. Any moment now, Owen will be arriving to start on the food and Hannah is already flitting around the house, cleaning it from end-to-end. Jamie has her own work to do, too, but she’s reluctant to force herself back outside just yet.

“Thank you, again,” Dani says quickly. It would be easy, perhaps, to assume that she’s so flip because she’s ready to be done with this conversation. But after all this time spent getting to know her, Jamie knows that it’s less a disinterest in the subject and more out of the misguided idea that any actions done for her sake are a burden or annoyance to those around her.

“It’s really no trouble,” Jamie says. “Christmas spirit and all that.”

“I know you say that. But I appreciate it all the same.”

They stare at one another seriously for a beat and then Dani smiles and reaches out, grabbing Jamie’s cold hand in her own, running her fingertips over the back of Jamie’s knuckles. Something about the soft warmth of Dani’s skin has Jamie gripping her tight, squeezing her fingers with her own, smiling as Dani squeezes back.

It’s too much, too emotional for the moment and Jamie has already spent so much of this conversation wearing her heart right there on her sleeve that there’s no turning back anyway. It feels like it’s been years, carrying this torch for a woman who will never feel the same way, but she can’t bring herself to regret even one moment of it.

The grandfather clock in the main hall of the house clangs loudly, announcing that it’s already 9 o’clock. Jamie pulls her hand back and sets her half-empty mug of tea on the counter, stepping around Dani and heading towards the back door. 

“I should get going,” she says. “Plenty to do.”

When she glances back, Dani is standing there, watching her go. She nods. “Yeah, me too.”

Jamie bites her lip, knowing that if she lets these last few moments linger too long, they’ll ache all the more. And it’s only half the day anyway. They’ll see one another at the party later. “See you later then.”

“You, too.”

Jamie spends a few long seconds looking Dani over, trying to memorize the shape of her the way she always does before they part, and then she tears her eyes away and leaves the kitchen, heading out into the gut-ripping cold waiting for her outside. 

________

Dani’s package is sitting in the bed of Jamie’s truck, just sort of resting in the passenger seat. Jamie stares at it for a moment when she goes to fetch her list, sitting on top of it. She can’t help but wonder what the dress looks like—what it’s going to look like once Dani is wearing it. 

Her mind can’t quite conjure a good enough image, but she can picture Dani almost perfectly. Those big eyes, soft and kind, and her blonde hair falling in waves over her shoulders. The dip of her chin and the way her eyelashes flutter with every blink. Her chest throbs at the thought and then again at the memory of Dani’s constant hesitancy when it comes to knowing her own worth, her own splendor.

There’s some extra paper at the back of her clipboard, tucked between her scribbled weather data, first frost dates, and planting dates. She tugs a sheet out and grabs the pencil tucked behind her ear, gripping it with cold, numb fingers.

Fixing her eyes on some distant point, she tries to think of something to say. Everything she thinks of seems childish and silly. Not even worth writing. And the last thing she wants to do is seem strange or predatory. 

She writes, You’ll look great, on the piece of paper and then immediately erases it because it seems like a dumb thing to say. Tapping her eraser on the clipboard, Jamie leans back against the freezing cold metal of her truck and considers writing something about wanting Dani to have more faith in herself, but discards that idea rather quickly.

Agitation and humiliation begin to bubble inside of her, threatening to burst out at any moment. Her head begins a dull, cloudy thud that aches and makes her close her eyes, pinch the bridge of her nose between her fingers. 

This shouldn’t be hard. It’s just Dani.

But, no; there’s the problem. It’s never just Dani and it never has been. Dani is so much more than that. This is Dani who laughs with her whole body, who spends her weekends curled up in the garden with a stack of books in front of her, slowly making her way through them. This is Dani who can’t make tea or coffee worth a damn but can make a batch of hot chocolate to rival any other Jamie’s ever had. This is Dani, her friend. One of her only friends, actually. One of the few people Jamie feels is actually worth the effort.

Dani who she is absolutely fiercely and fervidly in love with. Dani who she sometimes imagines pushing against the wall or lying beneath her on her bed, those blue eyes staring up at her in wonder as Jamie kisses down her neck. Tugs her clothes off. Keeps kissing. Touching every inch of her skin.

Dani who she fantasizes about tasting or sliding her fingers into and finding soft, wet heat . Who probably makes the most gorgeous sounds. Who would say Jamie’s name desperately and lovingly as Jamie made love to her, whispering her deepest desires as Dani threw her head back in blessed delectation.

You may not see how beautiful you are, but I do. There is nothing that has made my head spin more than the way you shine in any light, in any setting. One look from you sets me on fire like nothing else ever has. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you, Dani. You have no idea how much.

Sometimes it’s like I can’t think clearly and I have trouble doing my work properly simply because you’re near me. I can’t tell you how often I’ve touched myself to the thought of you. To the memory of your hand on my skin or the smell of your hair and your soft, freckled shoulders. At night, I imagine you touching me. Kissing my lips and my neck and my breasts. Dragging your hands over my body, dipping your fingers between my legs, your hot breath on my neck, and then me begging for your mouth. And you sliding down my body or dropping to your knees and the heat of your mouth and tongue. The way your voice would sound saying my name. 

And when I’m done imagining all of that, I imagine doing it to you.

You are more than I ever thought I’d find and I want you everywhere. All the time. I wish you could see yourself how I see you.

She writes it all so quickly that her hand cramps up and, by the time she’s finished, she feels a little breathless. The words are messy and slanted across the page and she looks at them, reads them over and then drops her head back to rest against her truck, marveling at her own absurdity. 

It’s not that the words aren’t true. They are. But the thought of ever actually allowing Dani to read them—to know that Jamie, her friend and colleague, has been having pornographic fantasies about her is disastrous.

God, she’s really far gone, isn’t she?

Jamie tugs the paper from her clipboard and folds it up, tossing it into the seat beside the package. On a different sheet, she writes something better and far more appropriate.

Don’t look too good or I’ll be the one having to rescue you from every single person who shows up to this thing.

Looking it over, she nods, letting out a relieved sigh. There. That’s much better.

Jamie pulls this sheet out too and folds it, but she writes Dani on the backside of it and rests it directly on the box on the seat. She’s barely even done this when the front door of the house opens and shuts behind her, followed by the sound of footsteps on the gravel.

She shuts the door of her truck and turns to find Miles and Flora—bundled from head to toe—heading towards her with nervous smiles on their faces. “What brings you two out here?” she asks, glad for the immediate distraction.

“Mrs. Grose said we’d better keep out of the house,” Miles explains and Flora nods seriously in agreement.

“Miss Clayton thought you might like us to help you with whatever you need,” she says.

How like Dani.

Jamie nods. “Alright, then. Let’s put you two to work.”

The next few hours are spent gathering up the flower arrangements Jamie’s put together to decorate the house with. Miles helps her carry them into the house, lining them up on the kitchen table and the floor, while Flora holds Jamie’s clipboard and counts off the numbers on Jamie’s list.

It’s freezing still, but the constant movement does a little to help warm them all up, and then they’re in the house for a while, going around and setting the poinsettias and holly wreaths around the house. Hannah is there to guide them through that part, telling them where she wants them and Miles, so eager to please, practically does all the work, running back and forth from the kitchen with arrangement after arrangement until, finally, they’re finished.

By then, it’s nearly three o’clock and Henry is supposed to arrive within the hour to help the children decorate the eleven-foot Christmas tree in the center of the entry hall. Jamie, tired, rests in a chair in the kitchen for a few minutes, watching Owen expertly switch between dishes on the stove, in the oven, and being prepared on the counter. She’s exhausted already and her day is so far from being over. You’d think she’d be used to this after two other practically identical Christmas Eves over the years.

“Do you need anything else, Jamie?” Flora asks. She’s still holding Jamie’s clipboard to her chest like it’s the most important thing in the world and Jamie can’t help but smile at the sight.

She thinks for a moment. “You can throw that back in my truck if ya’ like,” she says. 

“Okay!” Flora chirps, and she’s on her way out of the kitchen when Jamie remembers.

“Wait,” she calls and Flora stops, turning around and blinking as she waits for further instruction. “There’s a package for Miss Clayton in my truck, too. And a note. Would you mind taking them to her? I don’t know where she’s gotten to.”

“Last I saw her, she said something about rifling through the attic for decorations,” Owen supplies. He lifts his spoon out of the pot on the stove and tastes the red sauce dripping off it. “Needs salt.” 

“I’ll get it to her!” Flora says and then she practically runs out of the room. Jamie watches her go, shaking her head in amusement.

“I have to give it to Dani,” Owen says, glancing over at Jamie as he shakes salt into the boiling pot of sauce. “She’s got a gift.”

“A gift for what?” Jamie asks.

Owen grins at her. “Taming the wild heart of our elusive gardener.”

Jamie’s ears feel hot. She flips him off.

________

Jamie is halfway to her truck when Flora comes running out of the house, grinning, gap-toothed and happy. She almost trips on a piece of loose gravel and Jamie reaches out to grab the girl’s shoulder to keep her from falling.

“Slow down,” she scolds amusedly, and Flora’s grin turns into a sheepish smile.

“Sorry,” she says. 

Jamie pulls her hand away. “It’s good. Alright?”

Flora nods emphatically. “I took everything to Miss Clayton!” she says proudly. “And the notes! She says thank you very much and she wanted me to give you this for her!” Reaching out, she tugs on Jamie’s hand until Jamie bends at the waist a little and then she darts up, pressing a little kiss to Jamie’s cheek pepper-quick.

Jamie rushes to stand back up to her full height, blinking away her surprise. “Did she now?” she asks, rubbing the back of the neck with her hand.

Flora nods again, hands clasped behind her back and swaying happily. “She did. She likes you very much.”

Fixing her expression into something calm and easy, Jamie tries to brush this off as just Flora being Flora—all too happy to meddle into everyone’s affairs. She’s seen her do the same thing to Owen and Hannah for years. 

Still, Dani had wanted to kiss Jamie’s cheek, right? She can’t help but warm at the thought.

“I like her, too,” Jamie says, but then reaches out to ruffle Flora’s hair, making her giggle and squirm away. “Not as much as I like you, though.”

“You’re being silly,” Flora says.

“Usually. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

Another nod. Jamie gives her a wave and then starts back to her truck. 

Good ol’ Flora. Always so eager to help. Sometimes Jamie feels guilty for occasionally getting annoyed with the little girl’s enthusiasm, but the truth is just that she cares too much. Loves too much. If that could be considered a flaw, Jamie thinks that’s a good one to have.

And she’s so sweet. Running errands for her and taking the package and the notes all the way to Dani.

Suddenly, Jamie freezes, her hand on the handle of the car door. Her stomach drops into her feet, heart lurching painfully in her chest. Ripping the door open, she frantically looks over her things—flipping through the clipboard that Flora must have set on the floor, going through all the papers there, hoping against hope.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, her breath quickening. But the note isn’t anywhere. It’s gone. “No! No, shit!” 

Behind her, Flora shifts nearer.

“Jamie?” comes her voice, sounding worried and careful. “Is...Did I do something wrong?”

As she goes to turn, Jamie accidentally bangs her head against the door hard and curses again, hand flying up to her wounded forehead. “No,” she says quickly, wanting to quell Flora’s anxieties. One of them has to be calm, and it’s certainly not going to be Jamie.

God, she feels like she’s going to be sick.

“Then what’s the matter?” Flora asks next.

That note. That godforsaken, ridiculous note that she just had to write. 

That she meant every, single word of.

Dani has it. She has it with the things Flora brought to her and she’s going to read it—if she hasn’t already —because why shouldn’t she? 

But maybe there’s still a chance to get it back before she does. Jamie jolts forward, starting for the door. Flora just gave it to her. It hasn’t been that long. She can go and get it back. Just say something got mixed up in there and carefully take the note away so she can burn it and bury it and never speak of it again before Dani can read it. Before she can eviscerate their relationship.

“Flora, did Miss Clayton read the notes you took her?” Jamie asks as she keeps walking. “I just remembered that I might have written something down wrong.”

Flora follows after her, quickly cutting her off at the door. “I think I saw her open them,” she says.

Oh, God. It’s too late. 

Jamie’s life is over.

Completely.

The winter wind whips through her hair, and it should be sobering, but it somehow just makes Jamie feel even more queasy. It’s late afternoon now and the sun is hidden behind the clouds. The lights inside are on and the party starts soon. Henry will arrive shortly and then his guests. 

And Jamie doesn’t have the option of hiding away in her flat forever. She’ll have to be here for it.

She rubs her face with her hand, wishing she could sink into the ground below her feet. “Oh shit,” she mutters.

Something warm touches her hand. When she opens her eyes, she finds that it’s Flora’s little fingers that are now gripping her own. Her eyes are big and imploring, like she wants to help but has no clue as to how. “What did I do?” she asks, small and frail.

Jamie clasps her little hand in both of her own and shakes her head. “You didn’t do anything, Flora,” she says. “Now, why don’t you run inside and get ready, okay? I’ll see you tonight.”

Flora looks kind of like she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t. She just says, “Okay!” and pulls away, heading inside.

In her truck, Jamie drops her head down to rest it on the steering wheel, groaning at her own stupid luck. 

“Fuck,” she whispers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck .”

________

“Jamie! How wonderful to see you. I’m so glad you could make it.”

Henry is smiling handsomely in that white-toothed way he does when he is genuinely pleased. He leans in and kisses her on either cheek in greeting and, while it’s a nice enough welcome, Jamie’s stomach has been churning for the last two hours and she really, really needs to get inside. See how fucked she is. Oh, God.

She’d gotten ready slowly, trying not to imagine the worst scenarios possible, but it was hard. Right now, she’s mostly pinning her hope on the fact that she doesn’t think Dani would slap her. No, she’s far too nice for that. By the time she pulled back up to the house, the driveway was full of expensive looking cars and well-dressed couples walking arm-in-arm towards the door. There were enough of them to hide in, but apparently not enough to distract Henry from seeing her.

And now she’s stuck in his greeting and he’s being far too kind for her to just slip away with some flimsy excuse.

“Yeah,” she says. “Thanks for inviting me. I hope the—” She waves a hand, vaguely gesturing at the arrangements throughout the house.

Henry nods in understanding, cutting her off. “They look lovely, thank you,” he says, like it wasn’t in her job description or something.

“Of course.” She eyes her surroundings, the lights and garland wrapped around the banisters, the lit-up tree in the center of the room, covering with multi-colored bulbs and little crafts made by the children over the years. There are a few little, framed photos as well—Dominic and Charlotte, the children, some with Henry as well. “The tree looks great.”

“I’m afraid that was all our dear Miss Clayton,” he tells her. “She was the one who found all those little trinkets and photos to put on it.”

Jamie smiles. “Good on her.”

Dani is always so good at that kind of thing—making even the mundane or trivial seem almost...magical. It’s incredible how she manages to surprise the people she cares about with these things. Jamie’s chest tightens at the thought of her handing out ornaments to Miles and Flora, laughing with Henry, helping them hang everything, that beautiful smile, maybe, when they turned the lights on.

Dani.

Oh, fuck.

Dani .

“Is she around here?” Jamie asks, trying her best to sound casual and unaffected.

Henry hums thoughtfully. “I believe I saw her near the school room.”

He’s barely finished speaking before Jamie is thanking him and hurrying off in that direction, weaving through the guests as she goes.

The school room is in the back corner of the main floor, just off the hallway and of course that’s where Dani would be. It’s where she can typically be found. 

The warmth of the house presses in on Jamie’s skin as she moves, the body heat of the guests certainly not helping matters. She shrugs her jacket off and drapes it over her arm, adjusting her dress and hoping she looks well enough for whatever is about to happen. Her legs are shaking with every step and she feels like she could collapse at any moment, but, somehow, she makes it.

The door is open when she gets there, just a crack, and Jamie can see the warm glow of the lights slipping out into the hall. She stops just inside the door, gripping the handle tight, and finds Dani standing by one of the windows, looking out into the night at the snowflakes flurrying down from the sky.

From what Jamie can see of her, she certainly doesn’t look like she’s just read a dirty letter written by her colleague and friend. But, then again, Jamie doesn’t really know what that would look like in the first place.

The dress she’s wearing is this red, sparkling dress that drips off her shoulders, revealing her sharp collarbones and the flat of her sternum. The sleeves are loose and hang around her elbows, and her hair is curled and brushed over one of her shoulders. Jamie is almost glad that Dani isn’t facing her—keeping calm would be a lot harder if she could see her beautiful face right now.

Eventually, she knows she’s going to have to speak. She’d really been banking on the ground beneath her sinking and the earth swallowing her whole before that happened. But so far, her luck has remained completely dreadful on that front.

Nervously, Jamie clears her throat to alert Dani of her presence and, when Dani turns around, she lets out a somewhat squeaky, “Hey, Poppins.”

It’s when their eyes meet that Jamie knows her worst fears have been realized. Instead of smiling in greeting, Dani’s chest hitches a little and she bites her lower lip, eyes dark and staring straight and unblinkingly into Jamie’s. Something torrid and feral is flooding through Jamie’s veins at the sight of Dani standing there like that.

She doesn’t look disgusted. She looks—

Well, Jamie’s trying not to get her hopes up.

When Dani doesn’t speak, she rushes on, needing to explain herself while she still has the opportunity to. “I’m really sorry, Dani. You weren’t... ever supposed to read that.”

Dani just stares at her without a word, breathing more rapidly than might be considered normal. She is silent, so Jamie rushes on.

“It was...It was very inappropriate and... wrong of me to even write at all and I’m very sorry. I don’t want you to think that I’ve just been...preying on you all this time, because I haven’t, really. I just—”

Before she can dig herself into the hole any further, Dani cuts her off.

“So, it was about me, then,” she says, and there’s some quality to her voice that Jamie’s never heard before. Something fevered and desiring.

Jamie swallows thickly. “Yeah. It...It was. It... is .”

“And it just got mixed in with the other note?” Dani asks.

“Yes,” Jamie says, hating how much her hands are shaking. “I asked Flora to bring your dress to you and she grabbed both notes instead of just the one. You weren’t supposed to read it. I...I’m really—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry again,” Dani says and Jamie closes her mouth abruptly. There’s still a good twelve feet between them and Jamie feels positively aflame under Dani’s steady gaze. She takes a step forward and sets her jacket down on the desk closest to her. “What you wrote,” Dani starts again after a moment. “All that... stuff ...Did you mean it?”

Her voice is quiet—practically a whisper—and Jamie is certain she’s heard her wrong. The heat in Dani’s gaze has softened a little to make room for apprehension and Jamie’s to match is twisting and twisting because she might be reading this completely wrong but maybe she isn’t. Maybe she can be brave and say—

“Yes.” Jamie takes a shaky breath and another step forward, slowly bridging that distance between them. “Yeah. I meant it. All of it. I have...for a long time.”

While Dani at least looks a little relieved to hear this, she still also looks about two seconds from bolting. Jamie keeps approaching her slowly and steadily, like you would a wild animal that you’d really rather not piss off.

“Because I know that we…” Dani begins, dropping her eyes to the floor. “We’ve flirted and everything and joked around, but I didn’t think it would ever be real for you...the way it’s real for me.”

The floor drops out from beneath Jamie’s feet. That’s the only possible explanation for the way everything tilts to the side, the way she nearly loses her balance, that ringing in her ears as she tries to blink away the fog of confusion that’s threatening to suffocate her.

“Real for you?” she hears herself ask, timid and distant.

Dani is a beautiful blur, silhouetted in the orange light of the lamps, and she’s the only thing Jamie can make sense of anymore. “Yes,” she says. “Real for me. Jamie—”

Whatever she’s about to say never comes. At some point, miraculously, Jamie had managed to cross those last several feet without falling over. She sweeps Dani into her arms, feeling drunk and floating, and kisses her—finally, finally —with as much feeling and as much purpose as possible. It feels like a dream, or like some follow-the-light, brink of death fantasy.

But, no. Dani is real.

Dani’s lips are soft and Jamie can feel the heat of her body beneath that dress and she makes this lovely, little noise when Jamie curls her fingers into the flesh of her hips and tugs her closer. Dani’s hands drift up to cup Jamie’s face, to bring her in and kiss her harder. Jamie nips at her bottom lip, earning herself a little gasp, and uses the opportunity to flick her tongue into Dani’s mouth, darting against her teeth and tongue and the roof of her mouth. Mapping everything out. Trying to memorize it because she feels like she’s wanted Dani her entire life and she just hadn’t found her yet.

Eventually, Dani takes control of the kiss, bullying Jamie backwards until she’s pressed against the edge of the big desk near the other door. Her hands move up—drifting up and down Jamie’s arms and stomach, cup her neck, ruck up the fabric of her skirt curiously—while Jamie bites Dani’s lips, kisses her jaw and then her neck, groans into Dani’s skin as their hips roll together.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Jamie whispers, pressing their foreheads together so she can look into Dani’s eyes as she says it.

“Me too,” Dani returns breathily. She’s still moving her hands, pressing her thumb into the dip of Jamie’s hipbone, brushing her hair from her face. Her fingers drift back down to her skirt and she kisses her again. “God, me too.”

Jamie ducks her head to Dani’s neck and grazes her teeth against the soft skin there. Dani’s hands come around to rest on her backside, squeezing and tugging Jamie even nearer, her own hips rolling up in response to the pressure it creates. “I didn’t think you’d—” she nibbles at Dani’s ear and slips her hand up her billowing sleeve to touch the warm skin of her shoulder, “—ever want someone like me.”

This gets her a kiss—hard and yearning—and when Dani pulls back, her pupils are blown wide and her cheeks are flushed pink and Jamie almost can’t look at her because she’s too beautiful. “I do. I want you,” she gasps. She pulls the skirt of Jamie’s dress up and bunches it around her hips, shifting her thigh to rest between Jamie’s legs. “ So much. I’ve been on fire since I read what you wrote.” Her thumb slips beneath the edge of Jamie’s pantyhose, waiting for permission, needing something before she can keep going. “I can’t stop thinking about touching you.”

“Then touch me,” Jamie whispers into her mouth and then gasps as Dani rolls her panties and pantyhose down and slips her hand between Jamie’s legs. 

The next sound she makes is a high-pitched whine as Dani kisses her, stroking her fingers across her hot center. She’s wet. She knows. She can feel it. God, she’s wet. Dani groans into Jamie’s mouth as she slips her fingers lower, dipping into slick heat while Jamie presses a gasping kiss to her lips.

“ Yes ,” Jamie hisses as Dani’s fingers find what they’re looking for and begin circling it, slow and soft. Jamie fumbles her own hand up Dani’s sides, gripping her ribs and digging her nails into the shimmering, red fabric. She uses the other one to grip the edge of the desk as she leans her weight back against it, trying not to collapse.

“Jamie,” Dani breathes, pressing a sloppy kiss to Jamie’s neck. She dips two of her fingers down and then slides them in and Jamie’s vision goes white at the stretch it creates. She presses her lips against Dani’s hair and moans, the sound dampened a little, as Dani finds a rhythm. “You’re so pretty.” She pulls her head up to meet Jamie’s eyes, but Jamie can’t maintain eye contact. It’s too much. 

She flutters her own eyelids closed, bites her lower lip and tries to keep quiet. Pressing forward, she finds Dani’s lips and kisses her again because she can’t help it, needs it harder and faster. Whispers as much and Dani shudders, but obeys, and then the desk is shaking and squeaking a little as she fucks Jamie into it.

There’s a party going on just down the hall. This is a bad idea. Jamie has no idea how long they’ve been at it. The door is still open, too, and anyone could walk in and see them like this—see the governess and the gardener tangled up together, hot and rough and endless. But Jamie can’t even bring herself to care about that. Not with the way Dani is curling her fingers just right with every thrust, ever swirl of her thumb against Jamie’s clit. Not with the way she uses her free hand to grab Jamie’s thigh and haul it around her own waist to give herself more room to work, create a new angle that Jamie can do nothing but grind into wantonly. Her mind is filled with nothing but the primal need to come around Dani’s fingers, to be held tight and then for Dani to begin anew. To keep fucking her like this, over and over and over. She doesn’t ever want to stop. Doesn’t think she really can even if she wanted to, which she doesn’t, not ever, couldn’t—

The sound of footsteps coming down the hall toward the classroom breaks the spell and then they’re yanking away from one another. Dani’s eyes are filled with fear and lust and she looks entirely incapable of forming a complete sentence. Someone is coming. Someone is about to walk in and see them and know exactly what they were doing just seconds before and it’s not like Jamie ashamed or anything—God, never—but she doesn’t want to deal with the consequences of that.

Dani reaches out and helps Jamie straighten her clothes, wipes the lipstick smudges from Jamie’s mouth and her neck while Jamie does the same for her. They’ve just barely managed to make themselves look presentable when Hannah appears in the doorway, taking in the sight of the room before settling her eyes on them both, still standing too close together to be normal, on the other side of the room.

There’s an amused glint in her eyes, like she knows exactly what they were just up to. Like she knows why Dani is swiping her fingers on the fabric of her dress and why Jamie is blushing so red .

“There you are,” Hannah says. “Owen could use our help getting the food out.” 

Jamie nods a few too many times. “Yeah, of course. We’ll...We can do that.”

It’s obvious from the quirk of Hannah’s eyebrow that she knows why it is that Jamie is so flustered. “Are you feeling ill, dear? You look a little... flushed .”

Oh, Lord.

Jamie shakes her head now. Too vigorously again. Dizzying. “I’m good, I’m fine,” she says. “Not sick or anything.” She shifts, trying to catch her breath and keep her heart from, pounding out of her chest. Beside her Dani presses her lips into a thin line and doesn’t look at either of the women in the room. 

“He needs help right?” she asks, and Hannah nods. “Great. I’m going to go...do that.” With a little glance at Jamie, Dani heads toward the door and steps around Hannah, disappearing into the hall and leaving Jamie alone.

“You sure you’re alright?” Hannah asks again and Jamie nods.

“Fine,” she says. “Perfect even.”

And the thing is: it’s not even a lie.

Fortunately, Hannah leaves it at that, content to just guide Jamie from the room and toward the kitchen. Jamie follows, her legs still shaky—the phantom touch of Dani lingering between them—and tries to make sense of the buzzing in her veins.

________

She manages to slip away from Hannah and duck into the bathroom, leaning back against the door for a moment and trying to calm herself down. In the mirror is someone she almost doesn’t recognize. She’s grown so used to seeing some sour and tired version of herself, but now she’s gone and in her stead is someone who looks lighter. Freer. And definitely a little disheveled.

A red blush mottles the pale skin of her neck and chest and her cheeks really do look feverish. Running the tap, Jamie splashes her face with cold water, not caring about her makeup, not caring about anything, really, save for the acute ache between her legs and the memory of Dani’s lips against her neck.

Taking a moment to straighten her hair and wipe the rest of a lipstick mark off her jaw, Jamie decides there’s nothing further to be done to hide the evidence of what’s just happened. Then she decides she doesn’t care anyway.

By the time she makes it back out into the entryway, almost all of the guests are filing into the dining room for supper. There are a few stragglers, still talking in little groups, and the tree is glimmering proud and bright. Somehow, the whole place has an air of magic that she hadn’t noticed before. 

She wanders toward the kitchen and almost smacks right into Rebecca. 

“Oh, sorry,” Jamie says, too distracted to notice who it is at first. 

“Might want to watch where you’re going.” Rebecca is smiling when Jamie looks up and there are the necessary greetings made, enthusiastic and familiar. 

Her work with Henry keeps her away from the house for the most part, and, although she still calls the children, Rebecca has become this elusive figure, almost like their very own Paul McCartney—mysterious, easy to love, and occasionally rumored to be dead. 

When she draws back from hugging Jamie, she whistles through her teeth. “I didn’t know you could scrub up this good.” She reaches out and touches Jamie’s shoulder, holding her at arm’s length to appreciate her outfit. “If you weren’t spoken for, we might be having a different conversation.”

She winks and Jamie tries to laugh off the way her cheeks flush hot and red again. Hopefully, the low lighting of the hallway is enough to hide it. “Spoken for?” she asks, genuinely curious. She hasn’t seen Rebecca in well over a month and the turn in conversation is certainly unexpected. 

“Don’t play dumb,” Rebecca teases, playfully punching Jamie’s shoulder as she pulls her hand away. “Your girl is in the kitchen with Owen and Hannah if you were wondering. Probably still talking about some Germanic Christmas demon.”

Jamie frowns. “Germanic Christmas demon?”

Rebecca shrugs. “I’m sure I have no idea. I love her, but Dani is very fond of her mythology, isn’t she?”

This is true, but Jamie bristles a little at the phrasing. 

“I think it’s nice,” she defends and Rebecca rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“Of course you do.”

“What’s that mean?”

Another shrug. Rebecca looks over her shoulder at the dining room, where Henry is standing to give a toast. “Would you mind terribly if I joined you guys in the kitchen? It’d be so nice to catch up.” 

Jamie nods, even though she still wants to ask more questions, and says, “Yeah. Course.”

Rebecca takes her hand and pulls her down the hallway and to the kitchen. “Let’s go then. Before that lovesick look becomes a permanent fixture.”

Jamie follows, but grumbles a little. “I am not lovesick.”

She is. She totally is. She’s on fire, actually, and she wants to see Dani so badly it feels like a physical ache , but she’s also scared. Scared that the moment their eyes meet, she’s going to pounce and Dani will let it happen and they’ll finish what they started right there in front of the others. Normally, she’s able to boast at least a little self control, but her body is currently being driven by something else—some one else. Someone who’s been starving for so long they can’t wait anymore.

“Right, and Hannah and Owen haven’t been shacking up for months.”

“What?” Jamie squeaks. Way too much information. Rebecca doesn’t answer, she just keeps pulling until they’ve reached the kitchen. 

The table is already laid out with food and Hannah is seated, watching as Dani grabs the wine glasses and Owen grabs the wine. Dani is talking and Owen is watching her with rapt attention, his lips parted in what appears to be awe.

Dani’s a vision. She always is. But her dress sparkles in the light of the kitchen as it floats around her knees, pale stockings covering her legs and Jamie sort of wants to tear them off with her teeth . But that’s completely impractical. She’s not in control of her brain anymore. She hasn’t been all evening. Maybe since she met Dani, actually.

Catching sight of them, Dani stops speaking and turns, catching Jamie’s eyes for only a moment before she continues on. It’s just a quick look, not very long at all, but Jamie knows that if it had gone on any longer, she might have cracked. Maybe that’s why Dani looked away.

“So, wait...does he whip the naughty children or kidnap them?” Owen is asking, looking as confused as he ever has.

Dani laughs and it hits Jamie in her gut. “It depends,” she says. “But he’s been known to do both.”

“And people willingly let their children believe in him?”

“Some, yeah. There are places in Austria where they still hold pagan-esque rituals to dispel evil Christmas spirits like him.”

“Goodness. And I thought the Catholics liked to torture their offspring.”

Rebecca releases Jamie’s hand. “Still talking about demons, huh?”

Dani laughs again. “Somehow, yes,” she says. She hauls the wine glasses over to the table and sets one with each table setting. “Are you joining us, Rebecca?”

“If you don’t mind,” Rebecca says.

Hannah smiles from her seat at the table. “It’s good to see you, dear.”

“You too, Han.”

“The more the merrier,” Dani chirps, already fetching another plate and wine glass.

She seems unusually calm given the circumstances and Jamie is nearly jealous of her. She herself feels like she’s only seconds away from falling apart at any moment, and, if it was bad before, it’s almost unbearable now that she’s in Dani’s presence again.

Owen hauls the roasted chicken to the table and sets it down in the center, taking the seat beside Hannah. Rebecca takes the head of the table, smirking a little at Jamie as that only leaves the seat beside Dani. She must think she’s being clever, but Jamie just rolls her eyes at her to show that she very much isn’t . Sitting next to Dani won’t be the problem. 

Keeping her hands to herself will be.

After the food has been served, Owen holds up his wine glass and looks around at each of them in turn. “What should we drink to?” he asks.

Hannah reaches out and covers the hand he has resting on the table with her own. “How about to each other?” she suggests.

“Or Dani’s holiday demon?” Rebecca jokes.

Dani snorts out a laugh and Jamie’s heart squeezes, clenching tight at how adorable it is. “You might not want to drink to him,” she says. “He’s kind of a jerk.”

Rebecca laughs. “To not being a jerk then.”

Owen rolls his eyes at them, but goes with it. “To not being a jerk,” he repeats, and they click their glasses to his and then each other’s. 

If anyone notices the way Dani and Jamie hold one another’s gaze as they bump their glasses together, they’re kind enough to not call attention to it. And if Jamie knocks back half her glass in one go, she can hardly be blamed, can she?

Fortunately, Rebecca is immediately snared into a conversation with Hannah and Owen that takes her attention of Jamie for the time being. That’s for the best, Jamie thinks. If she were to start in on her teasing with Dani actually in the room, she’s not sure how well she could maintain her composure. 

She eats slowly with one hand, her other one tucked between her knees to both keep it from trembling and keep it warm. She’s not sure if it’s the strange mixture of hot and cold that’s buzzing under her skin that’s making her feel this way, but she’s determined to push it down as far as it will go until she and Dani can talk. Or sneak away together. Whichever comes first.

“Hey,” a sweet, familiar voice cuts in after a little while, and Jamie closes her eyes for a second, trying to catch her breath.

“Poppins,” she greets.

Apparently they’re going back to the basics of conversation.

Dani is looking at her, fingers of her right hand curled around the stem of her wine glass, the other one resting on the table beside her food. “Sorry I didn’t say that earlier, when you first came in. And I’m sorry I rushed off. I was just—”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Jamie says. “It’s okay. And you were busy talking about whatever the hell that horror story was with Owen.”

“Yeah, I’m not actually sure how we ended up talking about that,” Dani says with a laugh. “But, hey. Better than being stuck making small talk with a stranger, huh?”

“You’re not wrong,” Jamie says, and then, feeling brave and pitching her voice lower, adds, “You’ve done a decent enough job at saving me like you said you would. I’m a fan of your methods, too.”

Their eyes meet again, longer this time. Jamie wants to kiss her. God, she wants to kiss her so badly. But she can’t. Because if she kisses Dani, then it’s game over. She won’t be able to stop. Possibly ever again.

Dani drops her hand from the table to her leg and then slowly reaches out to rest it on Jamie’s thigh. The warmth of her palm heats her skin through her layers and she resists the urge to vocalize how good it feels. “Yeah?” she asks and Jamie nods, lips parted and breathless. “Maybe we can try it again then. Soon.”

She squeezes Jamie’s thigh and Jamie wants to touch her, but she’s trying to show at least a little restraint here, so she doesn’t. When Dani draws away, she brushes her fingertips across the fabric of her skirt and Jamie reaches for her wine glass, taking another long drink.

“You can’t do that,” she tells Dani once she’s swallowed.

Dani bites her lip, trying not to smile, but it’s entirely unconvincing. “Do what?”

And Jamie’s never considered herself to be suave. God, far from it. Most of her previous romantic encounters began and ended with her stumbling over her words and looking like an idiot. But there’s something different with Dani. Maybe it’s because they’re friends already, or because she’s known Dani longer than any of those other girls. Maybe—probably—it’s because Jamie’s never felt like this with anyone before. Not ever.

Whatever it is, for the first time in her life, she manages to sound almost...seductive. Or maybe she’s giving herself too much credit.

Either way, she leans in until her lips are brushing the hair curled in front of Dani’s ear, her own hand darting out to touch Dani’s hip, and says, “Make me want to take you right here.”

Dani shudders, eyes slipping closed, and Jamie feels sort of like she’s losing her mind as she pulls away. She’s completely bogged down by the desire that’s coursing through her. It’s a wonder that she manages to speak at all.

“Later,” Dani whispers, her voice a different pitch than one Jamie’s ever heard before. It strikes her that this is what Dani sounds like and looks like when she’s aroused.

“Promise?” Jamie asks, quirking an eyebrow.

Before Dani can answer, the others turn their attention over and Rebecca’s voice breaks in unapologetically.

“Dani, drink. You can’t be the only one sober here,” she says, smiling white-toothed and happy. 

“Excuse me,” Hannah says, but Rebecca waves her off.

“Oh, Hannah, you don’t count.”

Jamie rolls her eyes, but has been working on her wine since she poured it. Dani is really the odd one out.

There’ll be no arguing. Dani lifts her glass up and takes a long drink. The fingers of her right hand clutch the bell of the glass and she pauses as she goes to pull it away from her mouth. Her eyes catch Jamie’s and Jamie is confused for approximately two seconds before she realizes: that’s the same hand Dani had between her legs not an hour before. Some part of her must still be lingering on Dani’s skin.

The others don’t notice, already talking about something else, but Jamie can hear Dani let out a small, frustrated groan. She has to take a bite of her food to keep from echoing it, and she presses her thighs together in her seat. She wonders how she can even make it through the next ten seconds, if it’s possible to lose herself completely to this heady desire.

She keeps eating. Fixes her eyes on the table, already picturing the later that Dani’s promised.

________

“You’re so pretty. Nice, too.”

“Let’s just get you to your bed, okay?”

“Okay. People are wrong about you. I think you’re great.”

“Wait, people—Never mind. You’re okay, too, bud.”

“Yeah...Where’s Hannah?”

“She’s back at the house. She asked me to take you home, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I do remember.”

“Yep.”

“That was nice of her. Everyone is so nice.”

“Yeah, they are.”

“If you were into blokes and Hannah wasn’t around, I’d be crazy in love with you, y’know.”

Jamie halts where she is, halfway up the steps of Owen’s childhood home, the man slumped over her shoulder, more dead weight than anything else. “Thanks, I think,” she says. “But maybe keep that to yourself from now on.”

He’s been babbling since Hannah decided to call it a night for him and asked Jamie if she could drop him at home on her way out. Caught in the moment, she hadn’t quite known how to say no, which meant that her eyes met Dani’s wide, uncertain ones for a few seconds before agreeing. 

In the hours they’d all spent mingling and drinking, occasionally being pulled by Flora to dance in the middle of the room to whatever Christmas song was playing, her and Dani hadn’t gotten a chance to be alone. There’d been no discussion of what they planned to do once the party was over and there certainly wasn’t time before Jamie had to haul Owen to his feet and practically carry him out to her truck.

It pinched a little, certainly—losing that chance at finishing what they started. But tomorrow is a new day. That’s what Jamie tells herself. Assuming she can get through the rest of tonight, that is.

It’s been a slow, aggravating walk from the driveway into the house, but they’re almost there so she forces Owen steadily on.

He nods a few times against the side of her head. “Yeah, okay. I’m so tired.”

“Just a few more steps,” Jamie grunts, practically dragging him up the hallway. “Which one—?” She trails off, nodding at the doors down either side.

“Left,” Owen tells her, which isn’t necessarily helpful but she lucks out and the first door she opens is his bedroom. It’s clean and dust-free—a few shelves of knick knacks from childhood lining the walls and framed photos of him and his mother. 

“Okay, down you go.” She turns herself, back to the bed, and lets go of his arm so he flops down on the mattress sloppily. At once, he slumps to his side, head on the pillow but feet still dangling off the side of the bed. “God, you owe me for this.”

She unties his shoes and pulls them off, tucking them under the cot, and then stands to hoist his legs up. His tie comes off next, which requires asking him to lift his head—something he can only manage for only a few seconds. Somehow, she gets it and hangs it over the bedpost nearest before reaching for a folded blanket at the end of the bed. She shakes it out and drapes it over him until all but his socked feet are covered.

It’s the years of working in a house with two small kids, she tells herself. You get used to tucking them in. And Owen is no better than a child in his current state.

“Sleep it off, okay?” she says, and he grunts in agreement. as she turns to leave, his hand shoots out and captures her wrist, tugging her back. He’s sitting up a little now and looking at her seriously with wide, glazed eyes. “What?” she asks. “If you’re gonna start speaking Welsh, I’d rather not be here.”

“No, not gonna be sick.” He shakes his head a bit too emphatically and then winces at himself. “I want to say thanks. You’re a good friend.”

It’s sweet, really, and even more endearing because he keeps swaying and can’t hold his eyes open. She covers the hand on her wrist with her own and squeezes his fingers. “You are, too, Owen.”

“I can see why Dani loves you so much,” he says, but the tension this time is undercut by the swooping sensation his words cause in Jamie’s stomach. “You pretend not to, but you care. Not a lot of people are good at that these days.”

Jamie opens her mouth to say something and then realizes that she has no clue how to respond to something like that. He’s looking at her so earnestly and kindly that she feels a startling rush of affection wash over her. There was a time in her life when she’d never known what it was like to be looked at like that . No friends to speak of, not on speaking terms with what family she had left. And then she took a job at an obscure countryside manor just to get out of London and everything changed. She met all these kind people who have become her family and made her belong .

She’s not quite sure what to do with that.

“Anytime, okay?” she says and pulls out of Owen’s grip so she can ruffle his hair a little. “Now get some sleep.”

He nods and lies back down, but, before she can leave, he fixes her with another look, a smirk blossoming across his lips. “I saw the way you two kept looking at each other all night,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that’s so ridiculous that Jamie doesn’t know if she should be amused or a little offended at his supposition. “You are not subtle, love.”

Leaning down, Jamie swats at his arm. “Mind your own business, you wanker.”

“Only if you mind yours,” he says, his eyebrows wiggling again.

“Christ, go to sleep before I knock you out.”

She can hear him laughing all the way out of the house.

________

Here’s the thing: Dani is outside, leaning against Jamie’s truck with her arms crossed. 

Jamie doesn’t see her until she’s stepping off the porch and making her way up the driveway but, when she does, she stops short, her heart pounding. She looks beautiful, her silly, fur-hooded purple coat on over that elegant dress, pink-nosed and pink-cheeked and smiling. 

“I thought Owen might want his car tomorrow,” Dani says, answering a question that Jamie hasn’t worked up the nerve to ask yet. She nods at Owen’s car, which is parked directly beside Jamie’s truck. “So I brought it over.”

“Is that all?” Jamie asks, but it comes out a good deal breathier than she’d like.

Pushing herself upright, Dani uncrosses her arms and clasps her hands together in front of herself, wringing them nervously. “And I wanted to see you again. We…”

She trails off, like she’s not sure how to end that thought, so Jamie helps her out.

Says, “You wanna maybe come back to my flat?” like she’s braver than she really is.

Dani smiles and then bites her lip like she’s trying not to seem too eager. Jamie knows the feeling.

“Yeah,” she says. “I would love to.”

Jamie nods and the next thing she knows, they’re in her truck, making their way up the road and further into town. There’s a plastic gift bag on Dani’s lap, red and green tissue paper spilling out at the top and Jamie glances at it as she drives.

“What’s that?” she asks, curious.

Dani glances at her. “Um...It’s your Christmas present.”

Oh.

“Dani, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” Dani cuts in. Then, “So drive faster.”

And like Jamie would ever argue with that.

________

It’s strange seeing Dani in her flat. For all the things that Jamie has fantasized since meeting the other woman, she never thought to wonder what she might look like standing in the middle of everything Jamie owns.

She hangs her coat up beside Jamie’s on the coat rack and then kicks off her heels, flexing and curling her toes into the blue shag rug that covers most of Jamie’s studio. For the first few moments, all they do is look at each other, like they’re trying to figure out how much they can get away with. 

Finally, Dani breaks the spell by holding out the gift bag for Jamie to take.

“Open it,” she says.

“Really, Dani, you—”

Dani’s expression morphs into something that is probably meant to convey how serious she is but only succeeds in making Jamie’s heart melt all the more.

Jamie opens it.

Inside is a white metal flower with a wide circle as a base. A photo holder, she realizes, because there are pictures clipped in the petals. A school photograph of Miles. A picture of Flora. A polaroid of Hannah and Owen smiling, their arms around each other, that Dani must have taken at some point. There’s another of Hannah and Rebecca just beside it. And then there’s Dani. Two pictures of her. What looks like an old graduation photo, her smiling in a red robe and cap, and another that Jamie remembers taking in the fall.

In it, Dani has her arms thrown around Jamie’s body, tugging her into a tight hug with her foot popped up as she grins and grins. She remembers that day, Dani and the children helping out in the garden until “helping” turned into spraying one another with the garden hose. Jamie had gotten the worst of it because Dani got a hold of it and sprayed her every time Jamie stepped closer, trying to get it back. And then Flora taking the picture—taking a thousand of her and her dripping brother, and then this one. Jamie’s clothes and hair are soaked in the picture and Dani is dry as a bone, but they look so happy. They look like they’re in love.

“You told me once that you didn’t think people were worth the effort,” Dani says, drawing Jamie’s suddenly stinging eyes up. She’s a little blurry through the tears that Jamie is trying to blink away. “But...you try more than anyone I’ve ever met and you love with everything you are. All of us. You’re our family. And we love you, too, so I wanted to give you a reminder of that love. Something you can put in here and look at and know that...we were worth it. We were worth it because you are.”

Jamie’s legs feel unsteady, wobbly, and she’s a little worried she’s going to keel over at any moment. And it’s hot . God, it’s so hot in her chest and her cheeks and...other places. Dani stands in front of her, waiting for a reaction. Looking almost nervous at her own raw honesty.

With measured, controlled movements, Jamie takes a few steps toward her desk and sets the metal flower down before turning and moving toward Dani. Dani steps forward to meet her and then they’re close again and Jamie can feel Dani’s breath on her chin. 

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever gotten me,” Jamie admits, cupping Dani’s cheek in her hand and gently coaxing her to tilt her head down the barest amount to bring them even closer. She sort of hates how juvenile that sounds, but Dani’s hands are on her waist anyway, resting there without applying too much pressure.

Dani’s eyes move over Jamie’s face fervently, looking for something or else trying to understand her expression. Finally, she leans in and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of Jamie’s lips. “You deserve good things,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around Jamie’s middle. “I wish you knew that.”

Normally, that sort of talk would make Jamie just the slightest bit uncomfortable, but it doesn’t this time. Just the opposite. Dani’s face is close again, her pupils blown wide with desire, her pink lips parted ever so slightly. Jamie doesn’t know what she looks like, but she imagines it’s something soft and stunned. Her heart is beating so hard that she’s worried it’s going to break her ribs and her lungs are caught—she can’t breathe right—and that’s worrisome. Jamie thinks she should definitely be worried about that, except she isn’t and she can’t be because Dani leans in again and kisses her and—

Oh.

In the hours since she’d done it last, she’s forgotten what it’s like to kiss Dani—the way it makes her legs feel weak and sets alight every single inch of her. Dani’s tongue flickers against her lips and her grip on Jamie’s waist tightens, hauling her closer. She trails them up then, up Jamie’s arms and to her shoulders, fingering the edge of her thick cardigan before slipping her fingers beneath the neckline and pushing it from Jamie’s shoulders. It hits the floor and Jamie weaves her fingers into Dani’s hair, pulling it a little and guiding her deeper into the kiss. Dani’s tongue buds against her teeth and she smiles, scrapes her teeth across it.

“Love that,” Dani murmurs, pushing into her, one hand on the back of Jamie’s neck, rubbing firm circles into the muscles there and making Jamie moan quietly.

She hums. “Yeah?” she asks. She ducks her head down and kisses Dani’s jaw, her neck, flicking her tongue out and nipping at the sensitive skin as she moves. Dani’s fingers clench against her skin and then they’re reaching for the zipper at the back of her dress, pulling it down a little. 

“This has to come off,” Dani whispers and Jamie pulls away, nodding. 

She turns around so Dani can finish unzipping it and it falls to the floor. The cool air hits her skin and makes her shiver, but she only has a moment to linger in that feeling before Dani is turning her around and drawing her forward to kiss her again, fierce and hungry. Her hands reach around to fumble with the clasp of Jamie’s bra.

“We’re gettin’ a little uneven here, Poppins,” Jamie says. She pulls Dani closer and reaches for her zipper.

“I don’t care,” Dani husks, her voice rougher than Jamie’s ever heard it before, striking a lightning bolt through her stomach. “I want you. Wanna see you.”

Jamie certainly knows the feeling and whispers as such, dotting kisses across Dani’s cheek and down to the hinge of her jaw. Finally, Dani relents with a whine and turns in Jamie’s arms, exposing her zipper. Breathlessly, Jamie pulls it down, revealing soft, freckled skin as she goes. She wants to press her mouth to every new inch, but she also wants Dani’s body on top of her own on the bed, wants to dig her knees into Dani’s hips, wants to feel her fingers moving inside of her again. Wants to do the same in turn—wants to taste her. Wants everything so much that it makes the room go sideways.

The moment the dress has fallen to pool around Dani’s feet, Dani is pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses across her chest, her hands once again rising for the back of Jamie’s bra. Finally, she manages it and practically throws it across the room, pulling Jamie back into her arms, spinning her and walking her backwards to the bed, gently pushing her down once the back of her knees hit the mattress.

“Bra,” Jamie says, hardly recognizing her own voice. “Yours, too.”

Dani nods breathlessly and complies, reaching her arms around to unclasp it and then tosses it aside as Jamie pulls her own tights down her legs and throws them to the floor. 

“God, Jamie...look at you.”

Jamie wants to tell Dani to look at herself. She’s an exquisite sight, kneeling above her on the mattress, nearly bare, her eyes so passion drunk that Jamie can hardly see any blue in them, especially in the low light of her flat. She’s breathing harshly through her mouth and practically trembling and Jamie wants her so much it hurts. 

Dani pulls off her own stockings and then shuffles forward on her knees, gently pulling Jamie’s legs wider. When her hands hit the bare skin of Jamie’s thighs, Jamie can’t help but loose a quiet moan that Dani echoes, even as she’s falling forward into the cradle of Jamie’s thighs.

As soon as she’s there, everything slows down—the heat of their skin together, that buzzing in Jamie’s veins as she slides her hands up to press into Dani’s back. There’s something that Jamie wants to say and it’s right there on the tip of her tongue, but she’s worried that saying it will bring everything to a crashing halt. Ruin it. Scare it away. So she just kisses Dani again and whimpers as Dani pulls away to press her mouth to her ribs, licking a path to the dip of Jamie’s breasts.

“Dani, holy hell,” Jamie moans as Dani brushes her palm across an erect nipple. Dani catches her eyes and smirks as she lowers her mouth and draws it between her lips, sucking and grazing the sensitive nub with her teeth. Jamie hears herself let loose a soft, throaty whine as she slides her hands into Dani’s hair and draws her back up. Closer. Into another kiss.

She rakes her short nails up and down Dani’s back, nipping at her bottom lip. She whispers Dani’s name softly into the kiss and Dani draws away so she can meet Jamie’s eyes, her mouth set into a serious frown. Panic bubbles in Jamie’s stomach.

“Dani? What is it?”

Dani shakes her head as if she can’t fathom an answer to that question. “Nothing,” she says quietly. “I just...Come here.” She leans down, guiding Jamie to tilt her head up with a hand cupping her jaw, and kisses her again. It feels different. Somber and aching. Jamie lifts her knee and presses her thigh between Dani’s legs, sliding her hands to the small of the other woman’s back to urge her down.

In the process, Dani’s own thigh slips between her legs and Jamie groans against the pressure as it ignites something. She wants nothing more than to grind up into it, but Dani, apparently, isn’t finished yet. She pulls back a little, shifting a hand down to tug at the edge of Jamie’s underwear, kissing down her breasts and across her stomach. Sitting back on her knees, she guides Jamie into lifting her hips so she can pull the underwear off entirely and then throws them over her shoulder.

Gently, she parts Jamie’s legs and leans back down, kissing Jamie’s right knee first and then trailing her lips up her inner thigh. Jamie’s abdominal muscles clench in anticipation as she feels Dani’s hot breath against her. She whimpers. Quietly. Soft as she reaches her hands down to wind her fingers into Dani’s hair, combing through it reverently. Languidly, Dani draws her tongue up and down Jamie’s length, curling her arms around her thighs to draw her closer as she flicks out a few more laps, moving up to tease her clit—slow at first and then moving into a sustainable rhythm. Jamie can feel the thud of blood in her own veins, can feel herself winding up, the pressure becoming tighter and tighter. It’s a struggle to keep her hips from bucking upwards and she trembles from the effort, cursing under her breath.

One of Dani’s hands comes down and around Jamie’s thigh and then her fingers are slipping against her heart, sliding down and in.

“ Dani ,” Jamie gasps. “Fuck. There.”

Dani draws her fingers out and then thrusts them back in and Jamie can feel them curling as she trembles. Her fingers tighten in Dani’s hair, needing to see her, needing to kiss her and taste herself on Dani’s lips. Somehow, Dani keeps her fingers moving even as she lets herself be pulled and drops herself down into an urgent kiss. Jamie flicks her tongue out, running slowly across the tip, tasting herself, tasting the bitter linger of red wine. When it’s too much, she has to break away completely and slam her eyes shut—can’t look at Dani as she gets close, as she tenses up.

Dani begins pressing hard into Jamie’s clit with every thrust and Jamie digs her knees into her hips, arching up into her and biting her shoulder to muffle a cry. It’s never been like this. Not with anyone and she has to pull back and clamp her hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out as Dani slows the pace of her fingers a little. Her head is full of white static, her breath boiling in her lungs, and the energy of this crackling in the air around them. Dani is panting slightly as she presses a kiss to Jamie’s forehead, her cheekbone. 

Once Jamie is slumped against the bed, boneless and tired, Dani shifts off of her and slides to her side. She presses another kiss to her skin, this time at Jamie’s shoulder, as they both try to catch their breath. In the aftermath of all the fervor, it is very, very quiet.

“Holy shit, Dani,” Jamie says, shaking her head. Part of her is still expecting to wake up at any moment.

“Yeah,” Dani sighs, breathlessly.

“I mean…”

“Very.”

Jamie turns her head to find Dani watching her, a look in her eyes that she wants very much to read into. But she doesn’t. Saying it aloud could bring all of this crumbling down around her ears and she’s not willing to let go yet. Not even when Dani reaches out and brushes some of her hair from her eyes, trailing her fingers down her cheek before sliding it down to catch Jamie’s wrist. She must know what will have to be said if the stillness is allowed to linger any longer as well, because when Jamie tugs at her, she goes willingly—letting herself be moved until she’s overtop of Jamie again, this time straddling her waist.

“I must have done something really good in a past life,” Dani mumbles as Jamie sits up, pressing her back into the headboard. She nuzzles Jamie’s jaw and neck. “Because I don’t know how I could deserve this.” The words flutter at the base of Jamie’s spine, even as she’s licking at Dani’s pulse and sliding her hand down to press her fingers between Dani’s legs.

“Fuck,” Dani whispers, dropping her forehead to rest against Jamie’s.

Jamie slides her fingers around for a moment, exploring, circling around her clit before she can’t wait anymore and finally slides them in, curling them and almost immediately finding what she’s looking for. Dani gasps, pressing her hips down and closing her eyes, like she can’t even bring herself to make eye contact. Jamie bends her knees so she can press her leg up, a driving force behind her hand as she scissors her fingers inside the other woman.

Dani gasps again—the loveliest sound—and grinds down. “God, Jamie... fuck ,” she groans. She pushes herself upright and sits back, taking more of Jamie inside of her and Jamie can’t help but follow. She curls a hand around Dani’s hip to guide her until Dani is actually riding her hand. She curls her fingers again. The tight squeeze of Dani around her fingers is enough to make her vision go white. Paired with the sight of her on top, hips moving in jerky motions like she can’t control herself, and Jamie can’t breathe again—her chest heaves as she tries to suck in air with little success. 

“Harder, Jamie. Please... harder .”

Jamie is helpless to do anything but obey, putting more weight behind each thrust. Her wrist is just beginning to cramp up when Dani’s back arches and she falls apart, one hand pressed flat to Jamie’s sternum, whimpering as she spasms around Jamie’s fingers. Jamie wraps her arms around Dani’s waist, resting her head against her shoulder, and wishing—more than she’s ever wished for in her life—that they could stay like this forever.

She can feel Dani’s mouth dotting kisses over her head and temples. She presses her face into Dani’s slightly damp hair and swears she can feel Dani’s smile pressing into her skin. It’s the first time she’s ever felt so present .

“Dani?”

Dani pulls back a little, concern etched across her face. “Are you okay?”

“Perfect,” Jamie tells her, capturing Dani’s face in her hands, tracing her lips with her thumb. “Really, I just...I…” She swallows, steeling herself and forcing herself to look into Dani’s open, earnest eyes. “I just...I have something for you, too.”

Dani’s smile curves beneath Jamie’s fingers. “You do?”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, it’s just...it’s…” She goes to lean towards her bedside table and Dani slides off of her lap to sit beside her, shifting until she’s under the sheets. Jamie follows suit, clumsily covering herself, and then opens the table drawer and pulls out a small, black box.

There are probably things that she could say to prepare Dani for what’s inside, but she worries that it won’t come out right or that she’ll make a bigger fool of herself than she’s already at risk of doing anyway. So she just hands it over.

Dani stares at her for a moment, holding the box in her hand. Her hair is sticking up a little strangely and her chest is still blushed, the sheet pinned up by her arms. She’s a vision and Jamie forces herself to watch her face instead of her hands as she opens it.

There’s a pause, just Dani staring down, and then she looks up, eyes shimmering a little in the light. They don’t look like angry tears at least, but Jamie doesn’t let herself relax quite yet. 

“Jamie, is this…?” she starts, and Jamie cuts in.

“It’s a Claddagh ring,” Jamie tells her. She picks at a loose thread on her comforter, forcing herself to maintain eye contact. “It’s this Irish thing that...Well, the crown is loyalty and the hands are friendship. The heart is—”

“Love,” Dani finishes for her, hushed awe in her voice.

“Yeah,” Jamie says and chuckles a little self-consciously. “I know it’s probably...If you hate it, I get it, but…I wasn’t even going to give it to you. I just saw it and I thought...I don’t know. It’s silly.”

A hand comes out to rest on Jamie’s forearm, squeezing gently. “I love it. I’ve heard about these before, but I never…” She trails off, removing her hand so she can pull the ring out of the box and hold it between her fingers. “I love it.”

Jamie lets out a little sigh of relief. “No fooling? Because I just...I don’t want to scare you off or...This was really great. Like everything that I...wanted and way more, but it’s not just physical. You’re my...you’re my best friend and...I sound absolutely mad, don’t I?”

While she was speaking, Dani must have taken the ring and slipped it on her right ring finger, turning her hand around to admire it. She must have guessed the size well enough because it fits near perfect. It looks good, sitting there on Dani’s hand, but—

“You’re...If the heart is pointing at your wrist, it means you’re taken,” Jamie informs her and, when Dani looks up, her smile is blinding. “Are you…?”

“I know,” she says. She shakes her head, and scooches closer, their knees bumping together beneath the sheets. “Did I not...mention that I’m in love with you?” she asks jokingly. “Did that not...come up? Because—”

“Okay, you goof.” Jamie swats at her shoulder and Dani laughs, eyes sparkling in the warm glow of the lamplight. “I love you, too.”

Dani leans in and kisses her before pulling back, releasing her so they can lay down together. The blankets are ruffled and it’s a bit of a shuffle to nestle under them comfortably and curl back into one another.

“So, if I were to get you one of these,” Dani starts, tucking her face into Jamie’s neck and curling her arms around her midsection, “would you wear it?”

Jamie kisses the crown of her head. “Do you need to ask?”

Dani hums and the sound vibrates against Jamie’s skin. “Good to know.”

“I’m really glad this worked out,” Jamie says after a few silent moments, running her fingers up and down Dani’s bare arm, “but I’m still really sorry about that note.”

Dani laughs. “No apology necessary. It was...informative.”

Jamie groans and Dani laughs again. “Oh, Lor’. That was so humiliating. You weren’t ever supposed to read that.”

“But it worked out, right?” Dani presses a kiss to Jamie’s sternum and nuzzles closer.

“Guess so.”

They lay there, listening to the sound of the wind outside, the leaves rustling in the distant trees, still bitter and cold, but anything beyond this bed—Dani’s skin against her own, her breath tickling Jamie’s neck—feels worlds away.

“Sure you don’t mind spending Christmas morning with me?” Jamie asks.

A kiss against her collarbone. “No place I’d rather be,” Dani answers. “As long as you’ll have me.”

And, okay. Jamie laughs and shakes her head. Closes her eyes and pulls Dani closer. She doesn’t ask: Forever sound alright? But there’s a feeling that she might be able to in the not-so-distant future. That Dani might say yes to that.

But for now, she settles on, “I can work with that.”

...