Topic: Of Hope & Christmas Wishes

Piper Granger

Date: 2012-12-27 02:21 EST
((Continued from the Christmas 2012 thread.)) ____________________

By the time Piper said her goodbyes, Desmond had managed to find their coats and procure a set of car keys to one of the many cars the Grangers had at their disposal, assuming Humphrey had already given his permission for Desmond to take one for a drive, if he so desired. He didn't bother to make the rounds to offer any farewells, as he planned on returning just as soon as he dropped Piper and Lyneth safely off at their home. He waited for her to join him, helping her with her own coat, before doing the same for Lyneth, seemingly a perfectly polite gentleman.

"Thank you, Des." It was an automatic thing, to thank him for his help in manueuvering Lyneth into her coat, never mind helping herself, but it felt more genuine than most such thank yous did. With the little girl in her arms and both of them securely covered against the cold - apart from Piper's knees, but that was beside the point - they were free to slip out into the snowy darkness beneath the twinkle of that enormous redwood tree. "We live in the Old Temple District," she told him as they walked. "It's across the river, I'm afraid."

He had added a wool overcoat atop his suit jacket to keep out the chill, briefly glancing up at the starlit sky with its twin moons, hardly believing his own eyes. He'd spent a good part of the previous evening watching the stars traverse the heavens, the moons slowly moving across the sky, so different from the night sky he was accustomed to back home. He pulled his gaze away from the wonder of that vision to glance at another wonder that was standing right beside him.

Silhouetted by the twinkling shimmer of tree lights, he wasn't sure which was more beautiful - the starlit sky or the Piper. He kept these thoughts to himself, of course, afraid she'd laugh at him were he to share what he was thinking. Instead, he reached over to lay a hand at the small of her back to lead her toward the car that was awaiting them at the end of the drive. "If I can find my way around Manhattan, I can find my way around Rhy'Din," he replied, hoping to dispel her worries.

It was such a gentlemanly gesture, his hand at the small of her back, yet strangely intimate in its way. Away from the press of people, Piper was surprised to find that she wasn't feeling shy of this intelligent, sharp man as she had been in other men's company. "I bow to your infallible internal compass," she teased him quietly, her boots crunching on the freshly fallen snow as they walked along toward the car that awaited them. Thankfully, some thoughtful person on the staff had taken the opportunity to slip a child-seat into the back seat for them, and Piper made a mental note to find out who it had been and thank them another time.

Des had never considered himself a romantic, finding the whole idea of romantic love sappy and ridiculous, and yet, he had to admit it was a romantic setting, with the snow casting a silvery sheen on the landscape, the stars glittering overhead, the trees lit up for Christmas. It was a picture perfect setting that could have easily graced the face of any Christmas card. "It's pretty here," he said as he looked around once again. "Peaceful." Though it had been hours since he'd sipped bourbon, he thought it must be the alcohol that was loosening his tongue and making him feel wistful.

"Sorry, I don't know what?s gotten into me," he admonished himself as soon as the words left his lips, reaching around her to pull open the door to the backseat so she could get Lyneth settled inside.

"Never let it be said that Humphrey Granger is above using his own house to match make," Piper murmured mischievously, casting a smile his way. She didn't mean to imply that this was what had happened, but it did seem highly coincidental. "Don't apologise for feeling something and wanting to share it. It is lovely here. As much as I love my house, there's something very special about Maple Grove." She bent, ignoring the quiet protest from her daughter as she settled the sleepy child in the booster seat, securely buckling her in with a kiss to ease her through the transition. Straightening, she closed the door, tucking her hands into her pockets as she turned toward Des. "Are you sure you are all right to drive?"

He watched as she tucked the little girl into the car seat, wondering for possibly the first time in his life what it would be like to have a family of his own - a wife and a child who would love and adore him, who he'd love in return. It seemed like such a simple thing, so very ordinary, and yet, he'd never given it so much as a cursory thought until now. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. "Kinda feeling like Ebenezer Scrooge on Christmas morning," he admitted with a dry, self-critical chuckle, his breath turning to vapor in the cold wintery air.

"Well, you have a couple of hours to go yet," she chuckled back to him, deliberately keeping the tone of the conversation light for now. "You might still be visited by a ghost, or at the very least a spirit of some kind." The delicate lights strung in the trees around them made her eyes darker than they should have been, sparkling in the dim light as she smiled. "I'm sure you are not so far gone as to need it, though."

The only ghosts he could think of that might visit him were those of his mother and father, and the thought of either of them paying a visit caused him to shudder with a chill that wasn't related to the weather. "I'd rather not," he replied, the frown on his face hinting at a less than eager desire to cross the path of anything that wasn't made of flesh and blood. Looking into her face and her eyes, glowing with the artificial glow of Christmas lights, he felt an almost overwhelming desire to kiss her, wondering what her lips tasted like, if they were as soft as they appeared, but instead of following that desire, he pushed it aside, deeming it too soon. Strangely, back home, he wouldn't have wasted any time claiming her for his next conquest, but that's not what he wanted for her. "We should be going," he told her, reluctant to leave, and even more reluctant to stay.

Gazing into his eyes for that long moment, Piper was also having difficulty with an urge to kiss him, to know what he tasted like. What it would feel like to be in his arms. But she, too, hung back, acutely aware that there were still eyes to see, lips that would turn even an innocent kiss into sordid gossip, and only too aware that this was not truly her home. Their loyalties were to Oliver and Desmond, not to her, and she had no desire to be labelled as some kind of heartless seducer by anyone.

Smiling, she nodded again. "We should," she agreed quietly. "And the least I can do is offer you a cup of coffee before you come back here. I may be quiet, but I am very stubborn." Her smile turned startlingly mischievous for a moment before she slipped to the other side of the car, opening the passenger door to lower herself inside, undoing her coat to be comfortable before slipping the belt about herself.

Piper Granger

Date: 2012-12-27 02:25 EST
He smiled at her offer of coffee, as if she knew without asking that it was his drug of choice, or had become such after he'd quit smoking - another promise he'd made to his mother before she'd died. He'd kept one and broken one, deeming the promise not to contact his father's family null and void now that she was no longer alive to prevent it. He held the door open for her until she was settled and then closed it and went around to the driver's side to get himself settled, finding the keys already in the ignition and starting the car up. It wasn't his Porsche, but a Mercedes, a fine car in its own right, just one in a fleet of cars Humphrey Granger kept on hand for use by himself and other family members when the need arose. He steered the car down the long winding drive and onto the road, at her direction.

Settled into the car, there was no sound for a long while but the gentle cadence of Lyneth's sleeping breaths in the back seat and Piper's soft directions as they drove through the city. As always, when they crossed the river, her eyes turned toward the bank where the riverside loft stood, before remembering to look away. They weren't going there; they were going home. "Rhy'Din must seem very strange to you in comparison with Manhattan," she commented quietly, more to keep her mind from unhappy memories than anything.

"Rhy'Din is strange all on its own. I haven't had much time to explore," he replied, his eyes on the road, which was far different from the city streets he was used to back home. Too occupied with driving, he didn't really notice the way she turned away from the loft near the river, as if to avoid looking at it, but if he had noticed, he wouldn't have known why. A little lost in his own thoughts generated by her mention of Manhattan, he continued, "I wasn't really planning on staying very long." He paused a quiet moment before changing the subject. "Have you ever been to New York?"

"No, I haven't," she admitted, and there was regret in her tone for that oversight. "I had the opportunity a few years ago, but ....well, I made a different decision. A bad decision, but still ..." She shrugged lightly, casting it off with a smile. "Have you ever been to England?"

He glanced her way briefly as she hinted at something she regretted, but he didn't pry. Whatever had happened in her past, it was her choice whether she chose to share it or not. "Can't say that I have. I always wanted to go there when I was a kid, but..." It was his turn to shrug.

"I daresay the England on your Earth is a good deal different to the one I know," she mused, cheerful despite the odd sense of dislocation that came with such a topic of conversation. She glanced over at him as he drove, somehow missing his glance her way, finding her gaze tracing the strong features that marked him out as a Granger and yet made him unique in his own personal way. Turning her eyes front once again, she gestured to the next left turning. "Turn here, and park wherever," she suggested. "It's a very short road."

He was unaware of her gaze upon him, unaware of her thoughts regarding him, focused on the road, with a brief glance in the mirror at the sleeping child in the back seat who was still something of a conundrum to him. There seemed to be a lot she wasn't telling him, but they'd only just met, and he had secrets of his own. Who was he to begrudge her hers" "How so?" he asked, in reply to her question as he followed her directions, turning the car left onto the road indicated.

"Well, it's Catholic, for a start," she chuckled. She'd done enough research to know that while she and her Earth knew only three religions, and of those only one called itself Christian, other Earths were home to hundreds of different religions and had followed very different historical courses. "And it is the seat of the British Empire, which covers around a third of the globe. Apparently on most Earths, history followed a very different path to the one I know. That one is us." Her hand rose to point to a small house set a little way back from the road, on the drive of which was parked a cheerfully red Beetle.

He looked where she was pointing toward a quaint two-story house set back from the road. It looked a lot more homey than his high-rise apartment back home, but this was Rhy'Din, not Manhattan where every inch of space was a precious commodity. From the looks of it, she had done well enough for herself and needed no man to take care of her, at least, not financially, it seemed. He pulled up in front of the house and parked the car, shifting into park, but not yet turning the engine off. "Here we are," he announced, wondering if he should extend the evening further or bid her farewell before things got out of hand.

Of course, he didn't know about her aristocratic connections, or the inheritance that had paid for the little house ahead of time. He might, in time. If he had the time to spare. Piper glanced at Des, every facet of her being warm and inviting, not really wanting the evening to end here. "Aren't you coming inside?" she asked, somehow managing to convey hope that he would combined with the potential for disappointment if he didn't. She gave him a moment to think about it, leaning into the back to gently squeeze Lyneth's leg. "Lynnie" Wake up, baby, we're home."

There was a mild complaint from the back seat, followed by an enormous yawn. "Wan' Desth to tuck m' in."

Piper couldn't help smiling at that, but she made the effort to stifle the expression as she looked back at Des. "You don't have to," she assured him. "But I have fresh coffee. Ground today. Very strong." She was deliberately trying to entice him inside, though she couldn't have said exactly why.

He was torn between wanting to stay and needing to leave. She was the first person he'd met in Rhy'Din who wasn't a blood relative that he'd made any kind of connection with, feeling an odd sense of familiarity and comfort in her presence, though he couldn't say why. They were as different as night and day, and yet, he found her intriguing. He was about to decline the offer, finding it too great a temptation, when Lyneth mumbled something from the back seat that made him chuckle.

"It must have been the gingerbread man." He smiled back at Piper, just catching the ghost of a smile on her face. "How can I say no to that?" he asked, though whether he was referring to the tucking in or the offer of coffee or both was uncertain. "I have nowhere to go and all night to get there."

Piper Granger

Date: 2012-12-27 02:27 EST
"Well, then," Piper said, her expression brightening cheerfully as she unbuckled her seat belt. "Lynnie, warn Pinea that we have a visitor, please."

As her mother got out of the car, coming around to begin the process of getting her out, the little girl tipped her head back and let issue from her lips a sound remarkably like that of the wind through pine needles. There was an echo of the sound, and quite suddenly a Christmas tree lit up in the main window of the house.

"Good girl," Piper praised her daughter as she lifted the girl out of the car, tucking her on one hip and laying the bag of presents on the grass verge for a moment as she rummaged in a pocket for her house key.

To say that Desmond was surprised by this latest development was something of an understatement. He knew that Lyneth was different; Piper had said so herself, but it hadn't really sunk in until that very moment. He watched dumbfounded, frozen to the front seat, as she let out a remarkable sound and was answered back in kind. He'd assumed at first that Pinea must be a maid or a nanny, but now he wasn't so sure. A shudder rippled through him, not quite fear, but not wonder either. He didn't consider himself to be a coward, quite the contrary, in fact, but men, in general, feared that which they didn't understand.

Lyneth saw his shudder as she was lifted out of the car, stretching out one hand toward him with a reassuring smile that was far older than her year. "Ths'okay," she said calmly from her rest against Piper's shoulder. "Pinea'sth my friend. Thshe looksth after her tree, and we're goin' to plant it thso thshe can thstay when Christhmaths is over."

Coming up with her keys, Piper looked over at Des, guessing that this wise little reassurance probably needed a little more explanation. "Pinea is the name of the spirit who lives in our Christmas tree, apparently," she explained to him, bending to pick up the bag of presents before moving to lead the way over the porch and into the house. "I haven't seen her myself, but I trust Lyneth's word on things like this." She paused, looking back at him. "It's perfectly safe, Des, I promise you."

Desmond looked from Lyneth to Piper as he climbed out of the car, apparently deciding to stay. After all, she'd trusted him enough to let him drive her home. The least he could do was trust her enough to believe her. "I'll take you at your word," he replied to Piper, gallantly reaching for the bag of presents, as she was juggling enough between Lyneth and her house keys. He wasn't sure if he believed her just yet, though he could think of no logical explanation for what he'd seen with his own eyes and heard with his own ears. Anyway, maybe she'd explain further over a hot cup of coffee.

"Thank you." Grateful for the help, Piper turned her attention back to keeping Lyneth from slipping down off her hip as she unlocked the door and welcomed their visitor inside. Setting her daughter down on her feet, she gave the little girl a light pat on the behind, and watched as Lyneth ran straight over to the Christmas tree, disappearing beneath the lowest hanging branches. She was just audible, speaking to something or someone that was hidden there as well.

Piper turned to close the door behind Des, flicking the light switch to illuminate the open plan living room and kitchen. "Come in, make yourself comfortable," she told him, reaching to take the bag from him. "Lynnie, say goodnight to Pinea and come back out here so I can get you changed for bed."

Desmond followed Piper and Lyneth into their modest but comfortable home, watching with undisguised curiosity as Lyneth disappeared behind the tree to talk to someone he couldn't see, wondering if she had an invisible friend or if there really was something to all this. He was pulled out of his thoughts as she turned on the lights and called for Lyneth, looking back to Piper when she took the bag of presents from his hand that he'd nearly forgotten he was holding there.

"Lyneth, I am not telling you again," Piper called when there was no sign of obedience, and winked at Des. "I'll just send all your presents back to the people who gave them to you."

There was a shocked intake of breath, and Lyneth reappeared, horrified by her mother's threat. "That'sth not fair!"

Piper stuck her tongue out at her daughter, crooking a finger to bring her closer. "Life isn't fair," she informed the one-year-old in a teasing tone, sweeping her up into her arms to blow a loud rasperry on the toddler's stomach.

Lyneth let loose with a loud shriek of laughter, arms and legs flailing happily as she giggled. "Pumme down!"

Snickering, Piper did so, skillfully removing the barette from the little girl's hair in the process. "Go and get your jammies, then."

Lyneth turned to head for the stairs, pausing at the bottom to turn back and look Des straight in the eye. "You gonna be here when I come back?"

Des couldn't help but smirk at Piper's idle threat. No parent who'd made such a threat was ever willing to carry it out. Even he knew that much. He did his best to hide the chuckle that was bubbling up inside him by clearing his throat, a little relieved that half fae child or not, she behaved no differently than any other child when it came to certain things. He smiled as he watched the two of them, feeling a small tug of envy at the obvious well of affection they held for each other, both mother and daughter. He watched as the little girl scrambled toward the stairs, meeting her gaze as she turned toward him. "So long as you don't take too long," he replied, honestly enough.

"I won't!" And as if to prove this point, the noise she made scrambling up the stairs could have been enough to wake the dead.

Piper laughed, setting the bag of presents down beside the tree. "She really might want you to tuck her in," she warned Des, bending to unzip her boots and set them aside, wriggling bare feet on the carpet with a groan of relief. "Now ....I promised you coffee, didn't I?" Smiling, she slipped past him to the open kitchen, pulling a box of ground coffee from the fridge and proceeding to load up the pot.

Piper Granger

Date: 2012-12-27 02:30 EST
He stamped his feet and wiped them on the doormat, unsure if she wanted him to take his shoes off or not. "I think she's setting us up," he declared from the other room, deciding the polite thing to do was to take off his shoes, keeping his balance with one hand against the wall as he withdrew one shoe and then the other. "I've seen Parent Trap, you know." Not that the film was very relevant to their situation, but it seemed to him that someone was playing matchmaker, and it wasn't just Caroline. Once he had his shoes off and was in his stocking feet, he shrugged off his coat and laid it against the couch while she started the coffee.

"If Lynnie ever whips out a guitar and starts singing that appalling song at me, I'll put her up for adoption," Piper threatened, half warning, half laughing as she set the pot to brewing. She smiled as Des made himself more at home, relieved that they hadn't weirded him out too much with their allusions to the tree and its inhabitant. "She likes you, though."

There was a thump from upstairs, and a plaintive voice called down. "Mummy! I can' get my thshoesth off!"

Piper rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she chuckled. "Well, come down here, and we'll get you changed," she called back. "Don't forget your jammies!"

A moment later, the thud of little feet on the stairs announced Lyneth's reappearance, waving her pajamas over her head.

He had considered investigating the tree on his own, but there was no way he could have done it without arousing suspicion, and he didn't want to give either of them any reason to mistrust him. Besides, the idea of a being he couldn't see living in the tree was still a little too much for him to swallow just yet. He'd rather focus on that which he did understand, at least for now. He took a casual lean against the couch, arms crossed against his chest as he watched this very ordinary scene playing out before his eyes, a warm smile on his face, touched by the simple interaction between mother and daughter, the love shared by the pair more than apparent. He had thought about volunteering to help, but thought better of it, choosing to quietly observe instead.

In a whirlwind of chatter about her day and her presents and the fun she'd had, Lyneth was expertly twirled out of her party dress and into her pajamas within a few minutes, beaming up at Piper as her mother bent to kiss her goodnight. They held each other's gaze for a moment, and Piper signed, smiling in resignation. "Go on then," she said with a laugh. "Ask nicely."

The big smile didn't falter from Lyneth's face as the little girl turned to march over to Des, lifting one hand imperiously toward him. "Bedtime, pleasthe," she said cheerfully. "You thsaid, you thsaid you'd tuck me in. And it'sth bedtime."

Behind her, Piper groaned in amusement. "Not quite what I had in mind, Lynnie."

Desmond turned away as Piper changed and dressed her daughter, so as not to intrude on their privacy, quietly moving past them to check on the progress of the coffee as his excuse. The coffee wasn't quite done yet, but he made himself busy gathering cups and spoons and milk and sugar, doing what Piper had said and trying his best to make himself at home, when what he was really doing was just trying to stay out of the way.

He turned as he heard little footsteps approaching to find Lyneth standing there in her pajamas smiling up at him, one hand extended invitingly. He threw a glance past her to Piper, before looking back at Lyneth, a warm smile full of undisguised affection lighting his face. Charmed by the little girl, he offered his own hand, with a small stipulation. "Just so you know, I don't really know any good bedtime stories."

"Doesthn't matter, I know lotsth," was the confident reply as the little girl tugged hard on his hand, pulling with all her weight to get him to the stairs and up them.

Piper nodded to encourage Des on, waving a hand reassuringly. "I'll come to the rescue in ten minutes," she promised him in amusement, watching as her daughter heaved on his hand.

He laughed at her response, letting her tug him toward the stairs, wondering just what he had gotten himself into. "Are you going to tell me one, then?" he asked, with mirthful blue eyes. It was amazing what one little girl could do to warm a heart that had almost grown cold.

"D'you wan' me to?" She had to let go of his hand to navigate the steps, still at the stage where hands and feet were necessary to get all the way to the top. And once at the top, Lyneth took a moment straightening up, eschewing Des' hand for the hem of his jacket to tug him along with her and into her bedroom. It was rather sweetly decorated, definitely a little girl's room. What drew the eye, however, was the windowsill so stocked with plants it was a wonder the room got any light at all. The little girl released Des' jacket at the doorway, and threw herself onto her bed, snatching up an obviously much-loved stuffed rabbit, and held it out to him. "Thsay 'ullo to Teddy Rabbit, elsthe it'sth rude."

He resisted the urge to pick the little girl up and sweep her up off her feet to tuck her in his arms and carry her to her room, not feeling comfortable enough with her or her mother to presume such familiarity. He paused in the doorway to her room, which was charmingly and girlishly decorated, as she stepped inside and flung herself onto the bed. He smiled fondly as he followed her into the room, bending over to reach for the rabbit's paw and give it a handshake, as politely as one might when meeting a new friend. "Hello, Mr. Rabbit," he greeted the stuffed fellow, going along with the ruse, hoping the rabbit didn't talk back. "My name is Desmond, and I'm here to tuck the young lady into bed for the night."

The room, even in the moonlight, was bright and cheery, a happy place for a little girl to spend her days and nights, and Desmond was touched with the quiet caring that Piper had put into even this.

To his relief, no doubt, the rabbit did not talk back except with some very obvious help, showing off a lisp that was an awful lot like the one belonging to the small girl holding it in front of her face. "'ullo, Misthter Desthmond, do you like my flowers?" Lyneth beamed up at him, holding the rabbit up by its ears as she wriggled to kick her feet under the covers, apparently not needing or wanting more than the nightlight plugged into the wall for illumination.

Piper Granger

Date: 2012-12-27 02:33 EST
"Flowers?" he asked, glancing toward the plethora of plants that lined the windowsill. "I suppose so," he replied, furrowing his brows at the question, not really sure how to answer. Piper had said something about Lyneth seeing the spirits that dwelled near trees and plants and flowers, but he wasn't so sure he believed her just yet, and even in the dim light of the room, he looked a little perplexed.

The expression on his face filtered into Lyneth's tired, merry little mind, her smile fading as she looked up at him. "Don't you like flowersth?" she asked him innocently, wriggling down to set her head on the pillow, hugging her stuffed rabbit close. "Mummy likesth flowersth. Thshe likesth violetsth an' thsweet pea an' teeny rosthesth."

Desmond crouched down beside the bed so that he was no longer towering over her and lifted the blankets over her, tucking them in to keep her snug and warm. "I suppose I do," he replied, as he focused on his tucking. "I just haven't thought about it much." He was about to ask if her mother liked flowers when the answer was supplied for him, but then, those of the female persuasian always seemed to be fond of them. His thoughts wandered not for the first time tonight to a long-buried memory of his mother, remembering gathering a handful of wild daisies for her when he was a boy, much to her delight.

"Violetsth an' teeny rosthesth an' thsweet pea," Lyneth repeated, as though this was the important part of what she was trying to get across, turning onto her side to look at him with those old, strangely colored eyes of hers. "Why're you thso thsad, Desthmond?"

He blinked out of his thoughts again, returning to the present and the little girl's not-so-subtle hint at her mother's favorite flowers. He smiled as he adjusted the blankets around her, avoiding those youthful yet old and wise eyes of hers. "I lost someone close to me not long ago. Someone I cared for very much." He tried to explain in words she might understand, without telling her too much. "I'm not sad all the time, Lyneth. I'm not sad right now. It just makes me sad to think about it sometimes. That's all."

"Mummy'sth thsad thsometimesth," she offered in a solemn voice, quietly beginning to feel weary once again, now that the novelty of someone new to tuck her in was wearing off. "Thshe'sth good at thsmilin' and thsayin' thshe'sth not thsad, but thshe isth." She rubbed her nose, turning her knuckles into her eye as she yawned. "You made Mummy laugh proper. You can thstay, if you want ..."

Touched by the little girl's vote of approval, he leaned over and brushed a soft kiss against her brow, reaching over to push her hair back from her face with a gentle touch of fingertips. "Go to sleep, sweetheart," he told her quietly. "Sweet dreams."

She sniffed and yawned, cuddling into her pillow as he bade her goodnight. A moment later, her eyes closed, and she sighed comfortably, already halfway to sleep, even without the story she had promised to tell him. Then, just before she drifted away for the night, a tiny voice made itself known from her lips. "G'nigh', Desth."

"Goodnight, Lynnie," he whispered softly, choosing to call her by the nickname he'd heard her mother use, more familiar than her given name. Soft and sweet as she was, it seemed to fit her perfectly. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be a father, lingering a moment until he was sure she was well on her way to dreamland. He moved to his feet and padded quietly on stockinged feet to the door, looking curiously back at her for a moment before pulling the door partially closed.

He paused a moment, lingering thoughtfully, before making his way back down the stairs to rejoin Piper, thinking about what Lyneth had said. He'd already sensed a certain sadness in Piper and had assumed it was due to her broken marriage, but maybe there was more to it than that.

And as the door closed, he missed the soft flick and flitter of tiny wings as Lyneth's tiny friends ventured out from their hiding places between leaves and under petals, dancing through the air to sing to their childlike friend and ensure that she did have the sweet dreams he had wished her.

Downstairs, Piper had brushed her hair through while she was waiting, and set Lyneth's presents, wrapped and unwrapped, beneath the twinkling Christmas tree. When Des reached the lower floor, she was standing by the fireplace, her arms wrapped about herself, watching the flames dance. The crackle of golden light illuminated her face, so pensive and quietly sad in the darkness of the living room, only half-turned toward the brighter light in the kitchen.

He descended the stairs just as quietly as he'd closed Lyneth's bedroom door, moving almost silently but for the creak of a stair or two that might have given him away. He looked over at the fireplace and the young woman who stood there, bathed in the golden glow of firelight, looking almost like a princess from some storybook kingdom, needing a prince to fall in love with her and come to sweep her off her feet. He felt his heart lurch once again at the sight of her, at the thought of anyone making her sad. Hers was a face that should always look happy and bright, as happy as the little girl he'd just tucked in upstairs. He found himself longing to close the distance between them, wrap his arms around her, and kiss her troubles away, but he couldn't. Not yet. It wouldn't be right. They hardly knew each other. When had he ever cared about such things before" Why did it seem so important now, when he wasn't even sure if he'd ever see her again?

"She's asleep," he told her quietly as he stepped off the bottom stair, halting beside the couch.

She was only unaware of him for a moment, lifting her head as he spoke and turned to face her guest, the smile Lyneth had warned him about slipping easily into place on her features. "She's had a long day," she said, just as quietly, dropping her arms from where they lay crossed beneath her breasts to move back toward the open kitchen. "My parents insisted on visiting us this morning." She flicked her sable hair back over one shoulder as she passed him. "I'm fairly sure they're both secretly hoping my sister will have a baby boy so the title doesn't pass to Lynnie. It wouldn't be right to have a Duchess who can't even visit her own Duchy."

Piper Granger

Date: 2012-12-27 02:35 EST
"The title?" he echoed, once more lost in the flow of conversation and information she offered so easily but that was not so readily understood. She'd said she was from a different Earth, one that didn't know magic of any kind, not even in myth or legend, but that told him very little about who she was or what kind of life she'd left behind. He got the distinct feeling there was more she wasn't telling him, than what she was. He turned to follow her into the kitchen, reaching for her arm to turn her gently toward him, not allowing her to brush past him without helping him to understand. "What happened, Piper" How'd you end up here" Why are you so afraid of losing Lyneth' Talk to me. I'm not going to run away like a frightened child."

"Yes, my father is Lord Somerville, the Duke of Bath," she began, but stopped as his fingers curled to her bare arm, turning to face him with wide eyes. She could see in his eyes the desire to know, not just what had happened, but to know her, and it caught at her heart. That treacherous heart that had poisoned two men against her already. She swallowed, biting her lip, unable to keep the fear and sadness from showing in her eyes as she spoke again. "That isn't something that can be explained in a few sentences, Des," she told him quietly. "If I start, you could be here for hours."

His hand slipped away from her arm when she turned to face him, and he couldn't help but notice the fear and sadness in her eyes. What was she so afraid of? Was she afraid of him or of something else? Of being hurt or of doing the hurting" "I already told you, I have nowhere to go. Humphrey isn't going to send out a search and rescue for me if I don't come home right away. I'm an adult, Piper. I answer to no one but myself," he told her, trying to reassure her, to show her that he wasn't going to run for the hills at the first sign of trouble, though he still had no idea what exactly he was getting himself into. "Look, I just..." He sighed. "I'm just trying to help."

"Please ..." It was her turn now to lay her hands on him, catching his palm between her own as she turned fully to face him. "Des, I didn't mean to push you away, I just ..." She gave a sigh of her own, drawing him into the kitchen to pour out a couple of coffees for them both. "I haven't told anyone all of it," she admitted quietly. "I don't know why, but I want to tell you. You deserve to know what you're risking, if you choose to keep to that promise you made us." She handed him a cup, lowering herself to sit down at the table, her hands wrapped about her own mug. "Are you sure you want to know?"

He searched her eyes as she took hold of his hand, as if trying to search her thoughts, her heart, her soul. What was it that made her so sad" What was it that was so horrible she'd told no one, and why did she want to tell him, of all people" He let her draw him into the kitchen, taking the cup of coffee from her and finding a seat at the table. It wasn't the first time he'd put his own life on the line to help someone else. In a way, he did it every day of his life, knowing that one day he might cross the wrong person, but it was a chance he was willing to take, not out of a foolish sense of bravado, but because someone had to do it and there was no one better at it than him. "Are you sure you want to tell me?" he countered, not the lawyer in him speaking, but the man who, though he'd only just met her, was already starting to care for her.

She held his gaze for a long moment, trying to read him the way he had tried to read her. "Yes," she said simply. "I don't know why, but ....I do want to tell you."

And she did, laying out her life and its joys and woes for him in a careful narrative that left nothing out. She began with her family, the aristocratic world she had been raised in; took him through her years at Cambridge University, studying for a degree she had not finished and didn't have a use for; the disaster that had been her relationship with Terence, and its ending in her own jilting at the altar which had led to one chance encounter with a male whose name she had never learned and whose face she had never seen. She told him about her early pregnancy, the uncertainty and illness that had plagued her until she came to Rhy'Din; about her stupid plan to be married before the baby was born, and how that had come to be fulfilled with Oliver Granger, his cousin. She described Lyneth's birth, and the acceleration of her daughter's growth. And then came the recent darkness ....the abandonment by her husband and his replacement by something that bore his face; the way she had played along out of fear and watched as Lyneth was seduced slowly away from her; the relief and pain of that second abandonment, knowing she couldn't heal her daughter's pain at the loss.

By the time she reached the annulment of her marriage, and the buying of this house, Piper had cried herself out. Her coffee was cold, untouched, as tears dripped from her chin. And still she tried to smile and pretend she was fine, even as she added her worst fear. "I'm poison," she told the man she had only met a few hours before, the man who had made an impression on her aching heart and found a smile from her daughter she'd never seen before. "I drove Terence to another woman, I sent Ollie God alone knows where ....I even managed to run off some Fae thing when I was trying to play along. I almost lost Lynnie. I don't think I can take loving and losing anyone else."

Piper Granger

Date: 2012-12-27 02:37 EST
He listened quietly and patiently through it all, as he had so many times before, listening to broken victims of various crimes share their stories, looking to him to somehow make it better by bringing the guilty to justice, but this wasn't a witness or a victim. This was a woman he'd only met a few hours ago, pouring her heart out to him for no other reason but that she needed him to know. At some point which he didn't recall, he reached for her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers to offer some small bit of comfort. He said nothing, not a word, until she was done, his heart going out to her as her story unfolded, touching a heart that had over the course of time, grown cynical and bitter at the injustices of the world.

"None of it was your fault, Piper," he told her when she was finally finished, reaching over to brush the tears from her face with a surprisingly gentle hand. "You didn't drive anyone away. People make their own choices, for better or worse. Terence was a fool to let you go, and Ollie..." He shrugged, not knowing his family enough to vouch for any of them, least of all a man he'd never met. "Did you love him?" he asked, not having missed the fact that the marriage had been something of a marriage of convenience, at least for her own part.

She let out a shuddering breath, smiling as his hand brushed her cheeks, taking away the salt water evidence of her tears. "I thought I did," she confessed softly. "But I think now, perhaps ....I think I was in love with what he represented for me. And then he turned away from us, and ....I don't know. If I did love him, I don't anymore. My heart didn't break so hard for him as it did for Terry."

"Someone wise told me recently that sometimes bad things happen to good people. I see it every day," he told her, trying to make a point. His fingers grazed her cheek before pulling away, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. "Every day," he repeated, dropping his gaze, not wanting her to see his own pain. "After a while, you learn how to bury it, push it away, try not to think about it so it doesn't destroy you. Too many people are counting on you to make it right, but it never ends, and after a while, you wonder if you're making any difference at all." He broke off, realizing he'd gotten a little sidetracked, and his point had more than likely been lost.

"What I'm trying to say is it's not your fault. Think of it this way....Despite all the bad things that have happened, there's one very good thing that's come of it all, and that is Lyneth. Anyone with a pair of eyes in their head can see how much she means to you. She's special, Piper, just like you. I'd give my right arm to..." He broke off, looking back at his coffee cup as if he'd find the right words there. A lawyer at a loss for words yet again. Some lawyer he was.

Her free hand captured his before he could pull away entirely, clear eyes watching him as he struggled his way through trying to make his point. She knew it, of course. He was absolutely right. Without the hardships in her life, she would never have come to have Lyneth, who was undoubtedly the best thing that had ever happened to her. But fragile as she was in those moments following her lengthy confession, she found herself focusing on what he had almost said. "Don't you have anyone to hear your confession, Des?" she asked him very softly, uncurling her fingers from his to stroke gently over his cheek, easing his gaze to hers once again. "To recognise your kind of special?"

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, that simple touch of fingertips against his cheek sending a ripple of feeling through him that he hadn't felt in a very long time, hadn't allowed himself to feel, distancing himself from people, from situations that might cause him pain and suffering and loss, not so very different from her own fears. "It doesn't matter," he replied, making no move to pull away from her, finding some strange comfort in her touch. He didn't want to talk about himself or make this be about him. He didn't even know if he was ever going to see her again, and it surprised him to realize the thought of that caused him pain. "I'm not special, Piper. I'm just trying to do the right thing. That's all."

"Of course it matters," she insisted in her soft voice, inching closer to stare into his eyes with pertinent sternness. "You're human, like me. You have a heart, even if you don't like to admit to it. We're not made to go through life not feeling things, Des. None of us are." Her fingers reversed their course, and she found her palm curving to the line of his jaw as they looked at one another. "Everyone is special, in their own way," she insisted once again, softer, gentler, yet somehow more fervent than before. "Especially you."

Her words seemed to reach into the depths of his heart and melt away the barrier he'd worked so hard to build around it to shield himself from pain. As hard as he tried, he found he couldn't tear his eyes away from hers, her touch burning with the gentleness of it. "It's easier that way," he told her quietly, losing himself in the blue depths of her eyes, suddenly aware of a heart that was beating hard in his chest as he inched closer, terrified to kiss her, even as he longed to taste her lips. What the hell was happening" Had she cast some spell on him, enchanted him, melted the ice that had frozen a heart that ached with loneliness?

"No," she told him softly. "Believe me. It isn't." And somehow, without quite realising how or even why, she found herself kissing him. Not something soft and gentle to test the waters, oh no. This was a kiss that screamed out the ache inside her chest, pouring the passion so long held in check into him as she slid to the very edge of her chair, breathing him in as for the first time in a long time she felt desire flare, mingling with that gentler edge of attraction not merely to the body but to the mind and soul, too. Perhaps it was a mistake, perhaps he would hate her for it. But she couldn't not kiss him, any more than she could stop breathing.

He leaned toward her, melting into the kiss, his heart and body saying yes, even as his head told him no. He knew it wasn't a good idea. Not yet, anyway, but he couldn't stop himself from returning her kiss with equal passion, sharing the flare of heat kindled between them that hinted at the possibilities of things to come. He touched her cheek gently, fingers trailing back through her hair. Though he could have nearly any woman he wanted - and had had quite a few - in that moment, no other woman existed; there was only Piper.

Piper Granger

Date: 2012-12-27 02:42 EST
Yet, even as she revelled in the heat and sense of sharing, of belonging, Piper felt herself beginning to tense as his fingers touched her cheek, the old familiar feeling that she was being cruel in giving out affection, in hinting toward the swell of her heart. No matter what he had told her, she knew deep inside that she was poison, and Des did not deserve to be sucked in and destroyed the way Terry and Ollie had been. Abruptly, she pulled back, her eyes wide with fear and apology. "I'm so sorry," she heard herself say, one hand over her mouth as though she could take the kiss back. "I ....I shouldn't have done that. I don't mean to ....I mean, well, you've been so kind to listen to me, I'm not taking advantage of that. I'm sorry."

Des drew back slowly, sensing her tension and reluctance. Unlike her, he regretted nothing, having kissed her for all the right reasons, though they'd only just met, but he didn't want to spoil whatever might be blossoming between them by pushing his luck. She obviously possessed a tender heart that had been broken more than once, and he didn't want to add to make things harder for her. His fingers grazed her cheek momentarily before he pulled his hand away, a reassuring smile on his face, even if he was a little disappointed. "Did you enjoy it?" he asked, trying to make a point.

Her gabbled apologies stuttered into silence, those large blue eyes almost disbelieving of his answer to her guilt. What kind of question was that to ask her" Did he think she went around kissing just anyone who happened to sit down with her" Swallowing the badly thought out incredulity, she bit her lower lip, dropping her hand from her mouth to reveal a tiny curve as a barely perceptible smile made itself shyly known. "I ....Yes," she whispered softly. "Yes, I did."

His smile grew and he extended a hand to wrap his fingers around hers. "Then, don't apologize," he told her, his blue-eyed gaze meeting hers, as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, but then he was moving to his feet. Not because he had worn out his welcome or needed to be anywhere. He'd already told her he had nowhere to go, nowhere but back to Maple Grove to face the music with Humphrey and make ready for the return trip to New York. "I should be going," he told her as he let go of her hand and pushed away from the table, his coffee barely touched. It was too tempting to stay much longer and too soon to allow himself to be tempted, for her sake anyway.

She didn't release his hand as he rose, lifting herself up onto her feet with him, lingering in the gently chaste contact of palm against palm with her small smile growing plainer on her face as it became clear that he was not running, or diving in. He was leaving things open to chance, yes ....but that was far better than taking or giving or forcing the fragile possibility of something more. If he came back to Rhy'Din. "Will you come and see us before you go back to New York?" she asked him softly, as much for Lyneth's sake as for her own. Her daughter had taken a liking to the unexpected Granger, after all.

The smile faded at her question, knowing he was running out of time for this little excursion. Tomorrow was Christmas, and he was due back in court on Wednesday. It didn't leave him much time. "I don't know. I can't stay much longer. I've got this big case pending." He shrugged his shoulders, even as she clung to his hand, blue eyes full of regret, but not because he'd met her. Regret that there simply never seemed to be enough time. "I have a few days off coming next weekend, if the offer for dinner is still open."

The fading of his smile swallowed hers up for a moment, before he made his regret clear. Her smile blossomed again, a slow nod of her head in answer to his hopeful suggestion that he was still welcome. "It is," she assured him. "I'd offer you the spare room, but I think you should use at least some of your time with your family. You'll never be comfortable with them if you don't take the time to know them and let them know you."

He shrugged again, a solemn expression on his face, not bothering to point out that they didn't really feel like his family - not yet anyway. They were just strangers who shared the bloodline of a father he'd never known. "I'm not sure it matters," he admitted, but it was all he said about that particular subject. If it hadn't been for Miranda, they all would have more than likely gone about their lives without ever knowing the difference.

Her other hand folded about his, nestled in her palm, deep eyes serious and calm as she spoke. "Family is important, Des," she told him quietly. "You have no idea how lucky you are to have so many of them in one place that is so easy to get to." One shoulder rose and fell in a gentle shrug, her sadness returned for a brief moment at the knowledge that her daughter would never seen the Earth her mother came from. Lyneth would not survive more than a few hours there, with no magic to bolster her life force.

Des remembered the story she'd told him about her own life, about Lyneth's inability to ever visit her mother's home, about the possibility and danger that Lyneth's father might one day try to steal her away to God knew where, and he found himself stepping closer, tugging one hand away from hers so that he could touch her cheek once again, if only to make a point. "I'm not running away. I'll be back. I promise." This time, it was his turn to initiate the kiss, tilting his head slightly so that their lips fit together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. Unlike her kiss, his was softer, gentler, but with an underlying heat that smoldered with promise for something more.

She got the point, her smile beginning to grow as he leaned close to her, as his lips caught hers in his own kiss. She trembled just a little, unused to gentle affection that wanted nothing more than to be enjoyed in the moment. The last male who had kissed her had been wearing Ollie's face, going through the motions of making love by means of some strange goodbye as she quaked deep inside. Under Des' lips, Piper felt herself relax, the fear she'd been holding onto for so long pushed aside with terrifying ease. She didn't want him to go, but ....if he didn't go, he couldn't come back.

Once again, he wasn't sure what was going on between them, but he felt something with her that he haven't felt in a long time, or maybe just hadn't let himself felt, the wall he'd built around his heart collapsing, if only temporarily. He wasn't sure if it was going to work - her life was here and his life was back on Earth - but he didn't want to think about that now. He'd think about that later. He drew a soft breath as he broke away from her lips. It would have been so easy to take advantage of her, to take her to bed, to erase the memory of any other man, but for once in his life, he wanted to take it slow, to do things the right way. She deserved that much from him; she was too important to take for granted. "I have to go," he told her quietly, knowing if he stayed any longer, they might both regret it in the morning.

She lingered close to him, her breath mingling with his even as he drew back, her eyes locked with his. "I know," she nodded once again, her voice quiet, gentle again in the near silence of the house. "I should get to bed. Lynnie will be up early in the morning." Her lips quirked in a wry smile, one hand rising to tentatively stroke his jaw. "Happy Christmas, Des."

He returned her smile, hopeful this was the start of a beautiful and meaningful relationship. Time would tell. "Happy Christmas, Pip," he replied, shortening her name without even realizing it. He brushed a final kiss against her forehead before he pulled away from her completely. "Give Lynnie a kiss for me," he told her, unsure why he was saying that either. It just seemed the thing to do, the little girl effortlessly melting his heart, along with her mother, where so many others had tried and failed. He turned away to retrieve his coat from where he'd left it laying against the back of the couch before he changed his mind.

"I will," she promised, stepping back as he turned away, curling her arms about herself as she watched him take his coat back from where he had left it. The hope was there, burning brightly, that perhaps this time she'd do things right. Perhaps this time she wouldn't destroy the man who was already on the verge of softening the hardness she had gathered about herself in defense against the worlds that had delivered her so much pain. And perhaps this time, Lynnie would find someone to love with her, and not instead of her. "Drive safely."

He threw the coat over one arm, rather than over his shoulders and back. He had the memory of her kiss to keep him warm, after all. He headed for the door, one hand on the doorknob before turning back, smiling back at her with a look of hopefulness on his face. "I'll be back," he promised again, and then he turned and slipped out into the night.

((D'awww ....oh, the possibilities! ::cackles:: Many thanks to Des' player for this scene - loads of fun to play!))