Benjamin always did love dressing up, and biscuits. So, he arrived at Lucy's get together with style: He was the Knight of Gingerbread.

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He lurched around in his delicious armor (which was really just painted foam board, as Liath found out after several attempts to eat the gingerbread man) and passed out various gingerbread house kits to the other guests as gifts.

He saved the Snoopy Gingerbread house for Lucy, however.

Benjamin brought a dish of roasted Brussel's sprouts, a fruit salad, and cold slices of smoked venison to add to the pot luck table.

Before he crashed into or knocked anything down, Benjamin removed his tasty armor and sat back to have a few drinks, some dinner, and chat with friends. He'd take a look under the tree, as well, and left a little gift for Lucy there in turn, an Angel Wing Music Box. It would play 'When You Wish Upon a Star' when a tiny button was pressed.

He wouldn't sit there for long, however, he was soon in the kitchen with the cookie recipes. He wasn't a baker of renown by any stretch, but he did like to make cookies.

He looked over the recipes and rubbed his hands together with a gleeful grin.

"Let's bake," he announced.

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Sira showed up a little after the time the text said the party would start. Her new foray into being something of a "social butterfly" was a little bit more like a firefly throughout the night. She'd make sure to chat a little with those who she knew, but she was a little hesitant and withdrawn around those she didn't in such a close setting. Still, she was polite to all.

She arrived with a Blackberry Brie Dip and fresh pita chips and some ginger cookies to go with it.

As for gifts for Lucy, they were twofold. First was one that could be shared (if she so chose to--Sira wouldn't blame her for not), a box of 4" cheesecakes from Eileen's. Sira couldn't settle on one, so she got a sampler that included plain, strawberry, amaretto, cherry, chocolate torte, caramel, and blueberry. A tasty slice of 'home'.

The second she left for Lucy before she left for the evening (early), a long box that contained a necklace, a card from the jewelry explaining it's meaning, and a small handwritten note from Sira: we all could use a little charm sometimes.

Precisely on time. Being early or late simply wouldn't be acceptable, after having accepted an invitation - and after Lucy had paid the price to get him there. Hopefully, she's gotten the dirt out from under her fingernails by now. He'll find a way to get more there. Everyone should know the pleasure of having their hands in living soil - or at least, that's the Greenswarden's viewpoint on the matter.

Sard didn't bring any elaborate dishes to add to the buffet. He didn't bring liquor, or even coffee. But Lucy's kitchen will get invaded once by the biker, still wearing his leather coat, boots, jeans and a flannel shirt. Dressing up isn't something Sard does without some serious arguments over it. Shamelessly, he steals one of the mixing bowls - and dumps the contents of the bag he'd brought into it, to add to the other foods.

Creamy white winter peaches, fresh and ripe from the tree. Vividly bright, tiny oranges, starkly contrasting the pale spheres. The small yellow balls of ketta fruit, with thin, tough skin filled with juice and a floating, chewy, edible seed, tasting like a peculiar combination of cherry and lime - tart-sweet. And stalks of pale ice fungi, neatly trimmed and translucent, the spreading caps arranged around the rest to form a frame at the bowl's lip and lend their earthy, warm scent to the sharper fragrances of the fruit.

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There's finally a greeting for the others present, even if it's just a grunt to acknowledge those Sard doesn't know. Each receives a careful scrutiny, however. A callused hand touches Lucy's shoulder, closing lightly if she doesn't avoid it, before it releases again - but at least there's no smudges of dirt left behind. Liath gets hands buried into her ruff, gripping and shaking firmly enough to wobble the overgrown beast on her feet, and the cat would be offered fingers to sniff. They undoubtedly smell like the memory of green life and dark earth. Sard was undoubtedly working in his greenhouse before he came. For Sira, there's a murmured, rasping word, as he passes her by. "Rabbit." Nothing more.

One more delivery. The biker steps around the dog to remove four glass balls from his pockets, to hang them on the tree. Just because they used to have booze in them doesn't mean they can't be re-purposed. Now, there's a layer of gel in the bottom of each, nutrient and moisture enough to last the living contents indefinitely. A layer of gravel or dried lichen on top of that, and upon it, tiny mosses and lichens, in one a miniature plant. Those get hung on the tree among the other ornaments, with a note attached to one - care instructions, including the direction to hang them in the window where they can get sunlight once the tree is taken down.

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Each of the main and side dishes is, at least, sampled, even if it's just a single bite. The cookies and other sweets, however, Sard stays strictly away from. Settled cross-legged under one of the windows with a handful of plain pita chips, he'd settle for watching the others, and likely end up with a lap full of dog at some point during the night. Cianan can rest assured that the biker's entirely content to let Liath amuse herself with him, and leave the drow alone. No matter how entertaining watching him cling to the ceiling might be. The big pup would end up with a woven-fiber, virtually indestructible ball to chew on and play with before the night is over, filled with fascinating scents to encourage her interest.

Sard doesn't make conversation. At least he refrains from rude discouragements of it, but the biker makes no effort to hide his preference to be an observer, settled against the wall out of the way. Any gingerbread kit inflicted on him receive a distinctly baffled stare, though he doesn't refuse... it'll probably end up being turned into an planter of some kind. But Sard stays strictly away from anyone wearing gingerbread armor until it's come off and been put away.

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Jewell arrived at the party on Sinjin's arm, happy to introduce him to her friend and hostess of the evening, the lovely Ms. Mitford.

They came bearing a bottle of champagne for Lucy ("It's from Faerie so it's just like champagne only even better! We should drink it all."); a dish of green beans almondine ("Sapphire said I couldn't mess these up, but I think I did... I should have asked Sin to cook."); and a request for a spa day together in lieu of any other physical present.

For the duration of their stay at the party, both Empress and Sinner were in their element: charming, smiling, conversant. Jewell even smiled at Sard! That could have been the alcohol though. She overindulged just a bit. When it came time for baking, Jewell at least declined making cookies, going so far as to avoid the kitchen because, "They all might burn just because I'm there!"

When she drifted away from Sin for a few minutes of conversation elsewhere--including a rapid-fire gossip update about her love life for Lucy--she gravitated right back to him shortly thereafter.

They did not overstay their welcome, but they weren't quick to leave either.

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Anticipating the heat of her small apartment with the oven busy baking cookies and a fire in the fireplace, Lucy wore short sleeves for the evening. But she made sure to keep the little kitchen window and one of the front windows open for a cool breath of air for the rest of her guests.

She couldn't help laughing at Benjamin's outfit of ginger armor. But her laughter turned to a soft smile for the sweetness of his gift. She kissed his cheek and murmured quietly to him, "Thank you, it's beautiful." Of course she had a gift for him as well, a box and something lumpy, waiting for him under the tree. The note read, "A little something silly for our movie nights. I thought it could be fun!" Inside was a vintage popcorn machine, and since she knows he likes Disney, a pillow friend for cuddling.

As soon as she spotted him without the armor, she grabbed him for a warm and fierce hug.

As always, Lucy was thrilled to see Duci, offering the woman a friendly hug, and taking the gifts she brought graciously. The champagne basket was opened, the goodies offered to share, while the bottles went into the wine fridge (yes, the wine fridge) to chill. Lucy delighted over the ornaments, pointing out that she didn't really have any personal ornaments, before hanging them on the tree. There was a small package for Duci under the tree as well, the note reading, "A little something sparkly for the holidays! xoxo, Lucy." Inside were a pair of drop earrings. Surely, the two of them would wind up sharing one of the bottles of champagne together on the couch, late into the night.

At some point in the evening, Lucy moved to sit beside Sard beneath the window. She gave Liath a little scritch to the back of the neck, then handed Sard an elegantly wrapped package. There was no note with it, but Lucy gently insisted that Sard open it.

Inside was an antique, leather-bound book. The title, in faded gold-leaf lettering, read Botanica Rhy'Din, an Illustrated Volume. Inside was an illustrated encyclopedia of local flora.

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Each entry described the plant in detail including its mystical and herbal properties. Lucy handled the volume very carefully as she showed it to him, looking at him for his reaction before offering to get him something more to eat or drink and eventually separating to rejoin the others.

When Lucy opened the door to welcome Jewell and Sin, she spotted the unexpected package on the doorstep. After introductions had been made, and the pair of them had been directed where they could hang their coats and find a drink, and Lucy laughing that, "apparently the secret is out that I love champagne," Lucy finally bent to pick up the package.

Glancing at the gift tag, Lucy's brow furrowed. She discreetly carried the package over to the bedroom side of the loft before slipping the white envelope free. A quick read, reinforced her decision to tuck the package away for later opening, a forced smile on her lips as she returned to the party.

Later on, after Lucy had gotten her gossip update from Jewell, she squeezed onto the armchair with her friend, reaching over to pluck a big package from under the tree, and balancing it across both of their laps. The card read, "Something to look forward to. With love, Lucy." Inside was a simple wooden planter, filled with dirt, a lid keeping everything from spilling. An accompanying card explained how to care for the bulbs until they bloomed in spring.

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"Babe, we have a thing to go do."
"A thing? What is this thing...?"
"A Christmas thing. Something called a pot...potlick. No, potluck. Huh. Potluck. That doesn't make any sense. What does potluck mean?"
A chuckle rumbled up from his chest like distant rolling thunder. "You don't know what it is but you want to do it anyway?"
"Well, yeah. Why, is it something bad?"
He chuckled again, shaking his head. "No, it's not bad. But it does involve food."
"Oh, food. Hm. Wait... is this another one of those give your friends cookies things?"
"Something like that. You sure you want to go?"
"Yeah," she nodded, insistent. "It's for Lucy. You know that pretty redhead who came to the party?"
"I guess we're going to a potluck then."

***

Saila and Hex arrived together. As neither the Science Experiment nor the Hellion had a tendency to eat much, their contribution to the affair was several bottles of top notch liquor and a couple pounds of high quality coffee. Mingling among the various guests present, Saila was sure to say hello to (and steal a hug from) Benjamin the Gingerbread Knight (she didn't exactly get it, but thought his outfit was cool!), and in fact the venison he'd brought was the one food offering she tried all day.

She also asked after Duci's polar bear, probably danced with Senka and Cianan (and Hex, if he could be coerced into it. Poor Hex!) and most likely chatted with Sard about the gifts she'd given him for the Secret Santa thing. She would be particularly interested in what he thought of the cookies, probably never quite realizing that most people don't make cookies out of cheetos.

Saila made sure to spend a few minutes playing with Liath, too, often addressing the dog and talking to it the same way she would any other person in the room.

She spent a little time watching the cookie baking process as well, mostly in hopes of getting it right next time. Indulging in at least one glass of champagne while they chatted with Lucy, Saila dug around in her epic bag of holding until she found the gift she'd brought for her and handed it over.

The couple spent a lovely afternoon in Lucy's company and enjoyed the festive atmosphere of the gathering thoroughly. When it was time to leave, they said their goodbyes, offered hugs where appropriate, and made their way off again, hand in hand.

Three bodies joined the party at Lucy's apartment after arriving in an older model green Corolla driven by a cheerful, portly man. The first to exit was a redheaded man with a thick, cable knit sweater in off white and dark brown pants. He waited for a darker shadow of a man to settle up with the talkative driver while opening the door for Shae. Her quick exit of the car's front seat had less to do with the desire to escape it as it did the need to deliver the large pot of potato and sausage soup she'd promised to supply to the potluck. (With a smaller container sans sausage for the vegetarians.) She wore a longer dress of dark red velvet, accented with delicate gold jewelry and a white leather barrette in the shape of a flying bird pinning back a generous volume of wavy black hair.

The sweater clad man was not unburdened himself. One of his pockets bulged with a square shaped something, one arm bore a basket of goodies for the hostess handpicked by the Sylph, and the other arm held a gift bag of black and silver. An old looking wine bottle could be seen nestled between candied fruits, a homemade mix of bath herbs, and a sealed dark glass jar.

Cris was the last to exit the vehicle bearing two parcels; both wrapped with the same elegant colors of champagne gold and black. He stacked Lucy's, told apart by the mercury glass ornament strung through the satin ribbon, atop the other package and swiftly joined their procession into her loft, disposable bowls and utensils in tow. Ultimately, he'd decided a full set of visible weaponry improper for the casual event, and sported only slim fitting black jeans and a concrete grey long sleeved shirt, but his boots were the same, a sleek leather hint as to where all the knives ended up. A dark wool peacoat took the place of his usual, stiff leather outer layer. After settling up with the boisterously cheerful man they referred to as 'Elvis', wishing him and his life partner Ern a happy holiday, he joined the sylph and the redheaded man on the path to Lucy's door.

Shae set the large pot and smaller container down with the rest of the potluck dishes at the direction of Lucy before stealing the woman for a hug. The redhead offered a hug of his own, passing over the basket into Lucy's hands as Shae excitedly explained the skin softening herbs and the tincture that, when applied to a painting, could help protect the work from the ravages of time. The sealed bottle held enough for three pieces of medium size, or one large piece, or six small works.

The redhead had his own present, but he quietly requested the chance to deliver it later, in a more private moment when Lucy wasn?t called to and fro by her hostessing duties. The gift bag was passed along to the Drow once he caught sight of the fellow, with a one armed hug and a promise of taking him out for a drink and a meal sometime soon.

The sylph stayed out of the kitchen, only shooting envious looks towards the skilled bakers. She distracted herself with dances and hellos. Taking a turn with Cris, Cianan, and the redheaded fox she?d brought with her. Cianan, Senka, Saila, Ben, Jewell, and Thorn got warm greetings from Shae, while the redhead held his hands up apologetically when he spied the ?Nymph? he?d run into before. Shae would make a point to properly introduce herself to Ducii and Sira -- as she wasn?t sure if she?d done so previously -- and even attempt an introduction to the markedly less verbose Sard, if only to compliment him on his closed terrarium ornaments.

The redhead, if asked, would introduce himself as Fox. He also stayed away from Liath, where possible, but seemed comfortable enough with Kitty.

One arm would have to do as a hug of greeting for Lucy, compensated, Cris hoped, by the swift kiss he pressed to the side of her head. Grinning, he's eager to pass his parcel along while he has her attention. Inside a copious wad of tissue paper, she would find a modestly sized snowglobe, a gathering of quartz crystals in shimmering liquid mounted on a titanium base. The other item inside rested beside the globe in its own cocoon of black tissue: a corked glass jar embellished with sheet music and dried flowers. Within, rosebuds were suspended in a thin oil, faintly pink in hue. A piece of jute cord held a slip of paper to the jar's short neck. Cris bowed his head, bidding Lucy to read the note prior to use, and parted from her with a final squeeze to her shoulder.

Though, he's sorely tempted to, Cris neglected pitching the gift he'd brought for Cianan at his dark, pinched face. Instead, once he'd managed to snag some of the Drow's time away from the oven, he'd stuck it out for him to take with an indicative jostle if the other man took his time with it, or otherwise stared at it like it was some sort of explosive. Inside, Cianan would find a pair of sturdy, reinforced black leather gloves. Studded gauntlets could be removed at the drow's leisure or loosened to provide an extra hiding place for small weapons. "For next time," he'd say, feeling the Drow needed no further reminder of the vicious and inconvenient injury he'd sustained just over half a year ago.

He passed greetings and well wishes to those he knew, polite nods for those he did not know well, and though he didn't eat much, he made a point to sample the dishes that had been brought for consideration's sake. Amiable, if soft-spoken, in conversation, his features were home to the threat of a warm smile all evening. Like his Witch, Cris gave the creativity in the kitchen a wide berth, electing instead to observe and soak in second hand merriment from the rest of the guest list, but did not refuse her request for a dance, no matter the number of times she asked.

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(Thank you, Shae Stormchild!)

Solidly ensconced beneath a window where a cactus holds pride of place on the ledge, planted in a patent leather half-boot, Sard shows absolutely no inclination to get anywhere near the dancing. He wouldn't refuse the cat if it decided to lay claim to his lap while the dog's gone, but both animals have plenty of attention from those assembled to keep them occupied. Jewell's arrival with the playboy earn a briefly lingering scrutiny, but the fae's smile gains nothing more than a grunt in response.

There's a longer scrutiny of Senka when the woman arrives, eyes narrowed and expression perhaps a little too reserved, but that, too, diverts before it can provoke any inclinations toward conversation. That his eyes slip toward Lucy thoughtfully before finding a neutral target may, or may not be coincidence.

The biker's reserve softens, at least a little, when Lucy settles next to him. The package earns a frown, but it doesn't linger. It shouldn't really come as any surprise that Sard takes care with unwrapping the gift, neatly prizing the paper loose in a single, perfectly re-usable piece before turning the book in his hands. A rare, genuine smile curves his lips, head tipping toward Lucy's to speak quietly, even if the rasp of a ruined throat is unavoidable, as he opens it, leafing through the pages slowly to pause on a newly familiar plant. A stained finger traces over the page as lightly as it might have a newly woken sprout, and he sends the hostess back into the growing crowd with a strangled chuckle and a refusal of further edibles. A fine choice of gifts for a Greenswarden.

Saila's arrival means nothing more than any of the other strangers to the biker, until she asks about the gifts. A squint and grunt at the only first responses, but Sard doesn't mince words when he answers. "Coffee's good. Added it to the stuff at the Inn. Cups are useful. Shirts, too." After all, he'd gotten Lucy into one of them and wrist-deep in potting soil! "Don't eat cookies. Birds and raccoon liked them, though, so they must be good. Drank the liquor and used the balls for something else. The other stuff's put aside until I've got a use for it. Good things to have around." A glowing review, from Sard - which is to say, there was more than a grunt.

Remaining firmly planted where he'd claimed his patch of floor, the Greenswarden's initial response to Shae's approach wasn't particularly encouraging. A neutral regard, and any traditional greetings likely getting nothing more than a stare. There's recognition, and it's emphasized by the flicker of his attention shifting to Cris, and then to Lucy, thoughtful, before reverting to Shae. Compliments on the ornaments, however, ease some of the tension in Sard's posture. Enough for the twitch at the corners of his mouth to suggest an embryonic smile that never matures, and, so long as it's not asked for, the offer of his name before Shae ventures on to more friendly company.

Lucy was thrilled to see Saila and Hex arrive, immediately moving to greet them, smiling warmly at the pair of them. When Saila produced her gift, Lucy turned it this way and that to see all of the goodies in the basket before giving Saila a hug of thanks, and confessing that she was looking forward to some relaxation in the new year. She then set the basket beneath her tree for later unpacking, and swapped it with a wrapped gift for Saila. Inside the pretty paper was a star-dusted journal with pen set. The note read, "A place for all of your thoughts and plans. xoxo, Lucy."

Later in the evening, after getting her rear squeezed under the mistletoe by Kate, Lucy nudged the woman towards the tree so she could hand her a little gift. The box was dressed up in Lucy's usual pretty wrapping. The note read, "Save me a dance on NYE. xoxo, Lucy." Inside was a swirling, glittery cell phone case.

Lucy's loft was not so large that it was easy to find space for a quiet word. Fox therefore had to time his approach carefully. After dinner, just as Ben's enthusiasm drew people back towards the kitchen for the latest batch of cookies. That was the moment he chose to reach out a hand for Lucy's elbow, a light squeeze meant to draw her attention. ?You're really quite good at things like this, aren't you?? He asked in a quiet tone with a half smile in her direction.

Lucy smiled softly, moving with him away from the hubbub of the party towards the bedroom end of the loft, beside the windows. It was cooler over here too. She looked back towards the clusters of people making merry, and seeming at least to be enjoying themselves, then looked up at him. ?I have a little experience.? Then she shrugged. ?It's really the people that make the party.? Her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the party and the glasses of champagne she'd been sipping throughout evening. ?And I think I'm lucky enough to have--to have some good people in my life.?

Once he had her attention, he was reluctant to break his gaze away lest someone seize the opportunity to steal her away for this or that. Still, he chanced a look around at the faces who had gathered and nodded his agreement. ?It's a good lot.? Missing a few faces that he knew would make her happier, but there was nothing he could do about that so he endeavored not to bring it up. ?But of course they only gathered because of you. If you have good people in your life it's because of the effort you put out and who you are, eh??

Lucy smiled, but lifted her shoulder in a half shrug. ?That's a--a flattering way to put it.? But maybe she wouldn't put it that way. Still, it made her smile.

?Mm.? The hum said he knew she didn't quite agree with him, but he didn't mind. One hand reached into the pocket of his pants to pull out a box the size of his palm, wrapped in a paper that was blue and silver with a metallic sheen to the design of snowflakes. ?I didn't wrap it,? he confessed almost immediately. The box was turned over between his fingers. ?I didn't get the chance to tell you at the turkey meal,? Thanksgiving, he meant, ?but I got a job after I took you out before.?

There was a small smile of surprise when he said that he got a job. ?You did? Oh, that's good!? Her pleasure was genuine as she looked up at him. ?What is it??

?It's why I haven't been around as much,? and this time he sounded apologetic. ?It's been kicking my ass but I wanted to be able... well. Anyway, it's a construction company that has been rebuilding after some of the attacks on the city.? He looked up from the turning of the box to go on with a bit more enthusiasm. ?There's a fellow there who is connected to one of the shipyards. If I do well enough they might let me interview. I thought... maybe working with the ships would help me restore some memories.?

?I think that sounds great.? She smiled up at him, searching his eyes a moment. ?I mean--it sounds like really hard work--? She laughed slightly as she said it, in a way that suggested she would never do work like that, but she admired it all the same.

?I consider it to be a form of lessons so I don't screw up my attempts with the carriage house,? he added with a half smile. The box stilled, then with an extension of his hand he offered it to her. ?This is for you.?

Lucy smiled at the box, and gently accepted it. ?Thank you, Fox.? Her voice quiet. ?It's lovely.? The wrapping she meant, of course, but then she started to open it.

Beneath the wrapping was a white hinged box with a crafter's mark in gold relief. Inside, against a black velvet, was a pair of earrings. Gold hinged hook above a round clear stone and a sideways oval of pale green.

?I don't know if they're your taste. The woman who made them had to help me. I described you to her.? His hands, now empty, searched for something to do with themselves. One found a pocket and the other fussed through his hair which had grown a little longer.

?Oh, Fox.? Lucy was breathless. The earrings were beautiful and to her taste which she knew was not easy. But they also felt like too much. Lucy held the earrings with one hand, pressing the other to her chest. She shifted her weight and looked up at him. ?These are--oh is it too much? It's too much.? She looked up at him. ?You just started working.?

?I don't have many expenses. I don't pay rent, for example.? Now he looked sheepish. ?Do you like them, really?? Faintly hopeful. He had an even worse idea of fashion than Shae did, and he'd probably driven the poor seller mad going back and forth between them and another pair for most of the afternoon.

?They're lovely.? She smiled softly, reaching a hand to grasp his forearm gently. ?Really.? Lucy could give a polite lie better than most, but her sincerity was unmistakable.

?They can be for your past birthday too... if... if you think it's too much,? he added.

Lucy nodded, agreeing. ?For my birthday.?

For the first time since he'd arrived he smiled properly, relieved of the anticipation and pleased to have given her something she liked. The expression lifted his features considerably and added merry warmth to the gold of his eyes. ?Happy birthday and Merry Christmas, then.?

?Thank you, Fox.? She smiled up at him, color in her cheeks.

?You're welcome, pretty lady.? His reply was soft.

Her eyes widened suddenly. ?Oh, I have something for you!? She gave his arm a little squeeze. ?Don't move.?

He straightened up and cleared his throat. ?Alright. But if Liath comes along I make no promises.?

She laughed over her shoulder, but she was already moving quickly towards the tree in the corner. She picked up a medium-sized package from beneath the tree, elegantly wrapped in green and red plaid with a gold ribbon. It came with a note in a small envelope on top.

Fox relieved her of the package when she returned. His focus fell to the envelope first, balancing the wrapped box with his hip against the windowsill while he opened the note.

The note was written in Lucy's elegant hand. This feels like a silly gift, but it made me think of you. Something for your new home. Lucy

The note alone caused his smile to resurface. ?If it made you think of me, I'm curious to see what it is.? The note was tucked into his back pocket and he shifted the package back into his hands where he could find a seam to begin unwrapping.

Inside the package was a box that was labeled this side up with an arrow. Carefully packed in bubble paper was a classic-looking ship in a bottle. Lucy didn't know much about ships, but it looked old to her.

Fox's eyes went wide when he saw what was inside. ?You witch,? he accused softly. ?If I shake this will I hear the cries of tiny sailors?? He'd never seen a ship in a bottle before and he was staring intently inside the bottle as if trying to determine if she had somehow shrunk an actual vessel.

Lucy laughed, delighted. ?No, of course not!? She smiled at him, then pointed towards the mouth of the bottle. ?There are artisans who do it. They um--they construct it outside, but then sort of pull it into place.? Even Lucy wasn't entirely sure how it was done. ?It's very delicate work.?

He looked at her with a bit of skepticism over the curve of the bottle, but it was outweighed by a burgeoning respect for the cleverness of it. ?Not magic??

?It's not magic, no.? She smiled at him, shifting her weight and searching his face to see if he liked it. ?Though maybe--maybe I could learn how to do something like that.? The way she said it though suggested her deep skepticism.

His face didn't hide his delight with the object. It was something new and he found it fascinating. ?I love it Lucy, thank you. I'll definitely put it in the carriage house once it's finished.?

?Maybe you--you sailed a ship like this.? Lucy smiled and shrugged up at him, then shook her head at herself, as if she were being silly. ?Anyhow, I know you have a way to go before it's ready but--yeah.?

?Maybe.? The word was soft. He tucked the bottle back into the box for safe keeping until he was to leave. ?Thank you for thinking of me. I still will need your help to decorate the rest of it when it?s done.?

?I'll be here.? She smiled at him, her smile softening. ?It's good to see you, Fox.?

He reached out a hand to brush a stray wisp of hair back from her temple with his ring and middle fingers. ?It's good to see you too. It's good to see you having a nice time.?

Lucy drew in a breath, eyes dropping to look at his sweater. ?It's an effort--? her tone was confessional, ?--sometimes. But I'm trying.?

?The point is that you are, I think. I'm proud of you for it, you know. It can take a lot to try.? He sounded sincere, and it was genuine. Trying over and over again was a difficult thing.

She nodded, dragging in a breath, then looked up at him once more, smiling again. ?Anyhow, we should probably--? she tipped her head towards the group, ?--get back to the party.?

Christmas Eve had been a lonely affair. But given the hubbub of the previous night?s party, the loneliness was welcome.

In the morning, Liath hadn?t let Lucy nurse her hangover for long, her cold nose nudging at her chin at the first sign of the chilly dawn?s light.

Bundled up against the cold, Lucy clipped in Liath?s leash, and the two went trotting down the stairs into the icy cold. She knew Fin had trained Liath without a leash, but Lucy always felt more comfortable holding the lead for the walk to the park. There were many things Lucy feared on the short walk---speeding hover cars, whizzing bicycles, and runaway wagons---things that could harm Liath if they were not careful.

But at the first sight of Terrwyn Maes, Liath was tugging at the lead. Lucy reached down to release her, then watched as she bounded across the vast open field, covering her wiry hair with ice and snow. There was no one else out, and even through the remains of Lucy?s sleepy lingering buzz, she could appreciate the peace. The Maes was blanketed in a thin layer of unbroken snow. Liath?s delight in crashing through it made Lucy laugh. Eventually the large dog coaxed her out to play along with her, the two dancing one after the other in an impromptu game of chase.

Once they had tired themselves out, Lucy clipped Liath back into her leash and began the walk home. A quick side-trip to Lucy?s local French cafe landed her a much-needed cafe-au-lait and an almond croissant.

Liath?s damp paws left tracks in the loft as she trotted back to one of her favorite spots, covering a floor heating vent in front of the windows, the tracks adding to Lucy?s necessary post-party cleaning. But first, Lucy took a hot shower, her to-go cup coming with her to sit beside the shampoo and conditioner for the occasional fortifying sip.

It was the early afternoon by the time Lucy had finished the lion?s share of the cleaning. Three trips of trash bags and a clinking recycling bag taken down to the curb. Kitty?s litter cleaned. The dishwasher running. A fire back to crackling in the fireplace. Thanks to her friends leaving leftovers behind, her meals for the day were taken care of, and delicious, when she was ready for them. But for now, Lucy sank into the couch, not used to the dedicated work of a full morning of cleaning.

It was then she noticed. Green and red wrapping paper, a loop of red ribbon, peeking out from beneath her bed. Back to her feet, she crossed the loft and bent to retrieve the unopened package. The gift from Ketch.

For the third time, she read the note from Billy explaining that she had found it in Ketch?s closet. She turned the package over in her hands, fingers slipping through the messy red bow. Did Ketch wrap this? Did he have it wrapped? When had she last seen him?

She tried to imagine his face. The scruff of his jaw. The wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. The way he looked at her sometimes, like she was an unfinished puzzle and he was trying to fit all the pieces.

It took her no time at all to pull back the paper and reveal the gift beneath. John Coltrane, My Favorite Things. There was no gasp of surprise, no widening of her eyes. Just a quiet, internal recognition. Oh. And for a moment, her heart felt at once too large and too small for her chest.

As snow began to fall outside in the dim afternoon, Lucy poured herself a glass of leftover champagne, and listened to Coltrane interpret the Cole Porter classic, ?Ev?ry Time We Say Goodbye.? In soft wool socks, Lucy danced alone in front of the windows, hearing the unsung lyrics in her head.

Every time we say goodbye, I die a little
Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little

The music carrying her off into memories, new and old, the notes of the saxophone surrounding her in a curl of space and time, so that she was here and she was nowhere and everything was going to be alright.