FanFiction_OnceUponXMas

December 20, 10:24 AM

    As he entered Basement 5, Darien Fawkes hummed a few bars of "Jingle Bells"
    under his breath. Despite the fact that it never really got down to
    sleigh-riding temperatures in San Diego, by this point, one was either
    Christmas-ized or had been living under a rock since Halloween.

    "Hi, Claire," Darien called to his Keeper's back. He walked across the room
    to the chair where he usually got his injection of Quicksilver counteragent.


    Claire turned away from the rat she had been taking notes on and smiled at
    him. "Darien. Is it already time for another shot?" She followed him to the
    chair and glanced at the indicator on his wrist. Once she had ascertained
    that, yes, all but two bands on the snake tatoo's body were red, she headed
    toward the refrigerator for the dose of the blue liquid.

    While he waited for her, Darien glanced around the basement for the
    millionth time, taking in all the familiar features that he could see. He
    noticed one lonely glass Santa Claus figurine decorating Claire's desk that
    hadn't been there before. It didn't seem to be spreading very much Christmas
    cheer.

    Claire, syringe in hand, appeared by Darien's right arm. As she swabbed the
    skin of his elbow, he asked, "Did you finally decide to de-Grinch this
    place?" At Claire's confused expression, he nodded toward the Santa.

    "Oh, that," she said as she pushed the needle into Darien's arm as gently as
    she could. "My friend Amy sent him to me. I don't usually do much for the
    holidays unless I visit my parents back in London."

    Darien felt his usual bit of shock at hearing Claire mention life outside of
    the Agency. He knew that she existed beyond her connection with him and the
    Agency, of course; hell, he'd even been to her house--but it was still a
    little weird. He also knew that she probably would have gone to visit her
    parents had she not been chained to San Diego and the synthesis of the
    counteragent. Sometimes being a mad scientist was probably a real bitch.

    Claire slipped the needle out of his skin and pressed a cotton ball over the
    puncture. Darien asked, "So, are you and Pavlov just gonna spend Christmas
    Eve sitting around the fireplace and waiting for Santa?"

    She smiled a little at that. "Pretty much." She turned to dispose of the
    needle, leaving Darien to hold the cotton in place for a few moments more.

    Darien was saddened by Claire's response. He'd known her for about half a
    year, and in those months, it seemed like he'd never seen her have any fun.

    "What about you?" Claire called from across the lab.

    "Me?" Darien stood up and disposed of the cotton, walking across the lab to
    the rat cage Claire was peering into. "I'm not sure yet." He shoved his
    hands into his pockets as an idea began to germinate in his head.
    Hesitantly, he began, "You know...the Agency is having their party on the
    twenty-third. I wasn't really planning on going, but it might be fun..." He
    trailed off, uncertain if he really wanted to say what he was thinking.

    Claire looked up from her clipboard, face completely deadpan, with an
    enigmatic expression dancing in her eyes. "Darien...are you trying to ask me
    to go with you?"

    He shrugged and stared intently at the floor. "Well...I...yeah. I guess I
    am." He could just feel his face growing more scarlet with each word that
    left his lips.

    The expression in Claire's eyes all but spelled out "gotcha!" She would
    probably tease him mercilessly about this, he thought bleakly. It would be
    just...

    "I'd love to."

    Darien looked up so sharply that he was surprised he didn't hurt his neck.
    "You--you would?"

    Claire nodded. "Yes." Damn her for being so completely nonchalant about this
    whole thing...

    Darien desperately tried to think of something to say. "I'm...I mean--great!
    That's great. Wonderful." *Nice going, Fawkes.* "Uh...you got the memo with
    the time and everything, right?"

    A smile played at the corners of Claire's mouth as she watched the very
    uncomfortable man before her. "I did. I'll meet you there at nine?"

    "Ah--yeah. That would be..." Darien fished around for another adjective,
    then when none came to mind, decided to go with the tried and true. "Great.
    I'll see you there." He smiled nervously at his Keeper, and then got out of
    the lab as quickly as possible without breaking into a sprint.

    Once Fawkes left, Claire's slight smile turned into a frown. She wasn't
    certain whether to laugh at Darien's obvious discomfort or scream at herself
    for accepting his invitation. She knew that being in a social situation with
    Darien Fawkes was probably ground she didn't need to be treading. The
    doctor/patient issues *alone* between them should rule out any possibility
    of anything beyond the kind of relationship they had now, and adding
    Quicksilver counteragents and Agency agendas on top of it didn't help
    matters at all.

    But Claire had always had a reckless streak inside of her, albeit extremely
    well-hidden. She very rarely let it out to play, and right now it was
    whining to be free. Claire took a deep breath and resolved to deal with any
    problems the...date...might cause if and when they came up.

    "Right," she said softly to herself before turning back to her interrupted
    observations on the rat. "Now, what am I going to wear?"

    * * * * *

    December 23, 8:50 PM

    "I thought I might find you in here."

    Claire turned around immediately, nearly dropping the glass jar she was
    holding because the voice that came from the doorway had startled her so
    badly. "Darien!" she exclaimed when she could breathe again. "Don't do
    that!" She set the jar on her desk for safekeeping.

    "Sorry, Doc," he replied, looking repentant for an instant before smiling at
    her. "First, let me say that you look spectacular." Claire was wearing a
    deep forest green, velvet dress with long sleeves and a calf-length skirt.
    Her light hair curled softly around her shoulders, and she wore tiny snowman
    earrings. She smiled shyly at the compliment. "Second, what are you doing
    here so late?"

    She shrugged. "I got here a little early. The lab was close..."

    Darien shook his head. "Never mind. You need to get out more, Keep."
    Suddenly appearing nervous, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a
    small package, wrapped clumsily in bright red paper, and almost entirely
    covered in tape. "Ah...merry Christmas, Claire." He handed her the box.

    Claire's eyes widened in surprise. "This is very sweet, Darien," she said as
    she accepted the package. "Thank you."

    He smiled and almost bounced up and down with anticipation. "I hope you like
    it."

    Methodically, not too fast and not to slowly, Claire tore off the wrapping
    paper to reveal a rectangular white box. She carefully removed the lid to
    find a silver-colored chain with a glittering white snowflake hanging on it
    inside. "Oh, it's beautiful," she breathed. Darien nodded slightly, unsure
    of what to say, as she picked the necklace up off of its cotton bed and
    placed the box on top of the rat cage.

    "Here, let me," Darien finally said as Claire brought the chain around her
    neck to clasp in the back. He took the two ends from her fingers in one
    hand, and used the other to gently brush her hair over her shoulder. Claire
    felt a small shiver flow down her backbone as he attached the two ends of
    the necklace, his fingers just barely brushing against the sensitive skin of
    her neck.

    She turned around when he was done, the snowflake pendant settling into
    place just above the neckline of her dress. "I have something for you, too,"
    she said, "although I'm afraid it's not quite as nice as this." She went
    over to her desk and picked up a smallish, rectangular package that had been
    hidden by the back of her chair. This one was wrapped neatly and efficiently
    in gold and white paper.

    "I'm sure it's wonderful." Darien tore off the paper much more recklessly
    than Claire had done, finally revealing a hardback book titled *1,001
    Literary Quotes for All Occasions*.

    "And I'm right." Darien grinned as he paged through the book, stopping here
    and there to read a few lines. "This is great. Thank you, Claire."

    She smiled slightly, looking up at him from under hooded eyes. "I,
    ah...though you might need to replenish your supply once in a while."

    Darien raised an eyebrow. "My collection's getting old, huh?"

    For what was quite possibly the first time, Claire found herself unable to
    come up with a comeback. She was already flustered and disjointed from the
    gift-giving business, for some reason that she couldn't fathom, and verbal
    sparring ability had apparently flown out the window. "I didn't mean..."

    "Never mind. I know what you mean," he interrupted gently. He walked over to
    her desk and placed the book on the neat surface for safekeeping. "Come on.
    Let's go." Darien walked back to Claire, took her hand in his and started
    pulling her toward the door. She hit the lights as they left, the door
    automatically closing behind them and they headed toward the party.

    * * * * *

    December 23, 9:06 PM

    The ballroom in which the Agency party was being held was just the other
    side of being small, and was decorated in customary seasonal colors. There
    was a Christmas tree adorned with white lights and bright decorations in one
    corner. This being an Agency party, there weren't all that many people
    around, and those who were there had a security clearance the size of
    Montana. Holiday music was playing, though softly enough not to turn anyone
    into a raging maniac from hearing "Silent Night" blasted into their ears for
    the millionth time in the past month.

    Robert Hobbes immediately noticed when Claire and Darien entered the room,
    and was certain that any other man in the room who wasn't dead had noticed
    as well. He headed toward them, The Official and Eberts not far behind.

    The five greeted each other and chatted for a bit before Darien went off to
    visit the buffet table. Hobbes followed Fawkes, while Claire stayed behind
    to talk geek with Eberts.

    "Ahem." Hobbes tapped Darien on the back.

    Darien turned to face his partner, empty paper plate in hand. "What?" As the
    conversation continued, Darien gradually filled the plate with various
    goodies from the table.

    "What's this with you and the Keeper? Are you two an item or something?" If
    they were, Hobbes was going to have sooooo much fun teasing them...

    Darien's hand, which was holding a spoonful of vegetable dip, froze in
    midair above the table. "Why would you think that?" he asked after a moment,
    his hand resuming course. "Neither of us had much to do for the holidays, so
    I asked her to come to the party with me."

    "Uh-huh. No one can fool Bobby Hobbes, my friend. I warned you about falling
    for her. It's the whole shrink thing--"

    "Hobbes, the stuff that comes out of your brain really amazes me." Darien
    interrupted. He didn't particularly feel like dealing with this tonight,
    especially when his feelings about Claire really were in something of a
    state of flux, and had been for quite some time. "It's Christmas. You think
    you can cut the crazy theories just for today? Claire and I are *not* an
    item."

    Hobbes realized that he wasn't going to pry any more information from his
    partner, at least not tonight, and decided to quit trying. "Whatever you
    say, partner." The disbelief in his tone was more than evident. "I guess
    I'll see you around."

    Darien didn't turn around. "Right. See ya."

    As Hobbes walked away from the table, he happened to glance at the ceiling.
    He also happened to see something very interesting attached to the ceiling,
    something that started to spark communication between the neurons hanging
    out in his brain. Hobbes was starting to get a very interesting idea...

    * * * * *

    December 23, 9:32 PM

    A little while after they had split up, Darien joined Claire again. Before,
    the music had been almost entirely of the Christmas variety, but now another
    song, of a slow and quiet tempo and a winter theme, had been thrown into the
    mix. Darien held out his hand to Claire. "Wanna dance?"

    "Sure." She smiled and set her drink down on a nearby surface, then clasped
    his hand firmly with her own. They walked to the edge of the dance floor,
    stopped, and settled closer together, Claire's hand on Darien's back and his
    hand on her waist. They swayed together in time to the music, occasionally
    moving a few feet in some direction, but mostly just staying put and
    enjoying the dance.

    About halfway through the dance, Claire's head lightly came to rest on
    Darien's shoulder. He saw her eyes flutter closed as she gave herself
    entirely to the moment, and realized that he could now smell the soft,
    intoxicating perfume of her hair. Smiling to himself, he held her more
    tightly and moved more slowly, not wanting to do anything that would upset
    the delicate balance they had achieved and take her from his arms.

    Eventually, though, the song and dance ended. Reluctantly, Claire and Darien
    began to let go of each other--and then Bobby Hobbes bounded up beside them.


    Darien had noticed his partner conferring with The Official earlier, and had
    already been getting a feeling that that couldn't mean anything good. As it
    turned out, he was right.

    "Keep, Fawkes," Hobbes greeted them. "Notice anything different around
    here?"

    "You lost another hair?" Darien suggested sarcastically.

    Hobbes' sly smile immediately turned to a glare. "Hey! No hair comments."

    "What is it, Hobbes?" Claire asked before the situation could intensify into
    something ugly.

    Hobbes composed himself, the same smile resuming its place on his features.
    "Look up. Right above your heads."

    They did as instructed and scanned the ceiling. Once he saw the tiny green
    sprig of mistletoe, Darien was uncertain of whether to kill Hobbes quickly,
    or employ a few torture techniques first. *Crap, crap, crap.*

    Claire, for her part, had gone a few shades paler and had started to look
    somewhat like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi.
    "Not cool, Hobbes. Not cool at all," Darien said, glaring at the other man.

    "Why not?" asked another voice from behind them. Darien and Claire turned to
    see The Official standing next to them, a smile rather like Hobbes'
    decorating his face. "Do you have a problem with traditions?"

    Both Claire and Darien answered at the same time. "No, but--"

    "Then what's the matter?" The Official interrupted them, a enigmatic
    expression running rampant over his face.

    They didn't answer. It wasn't that he was opposed to kissing Claire, Darien
    thought--quite the opposite, in fact. He just wasn't entirely certain that
    it was a good idea. After all, the Keeper carried a big gun. And there was
    that whole problem with the adrenaline...

    Claire was just now realizing what problems her come-what-may attitude might
    have gotten her into. She hadn't expected this to happen when she'd accepted
    Darien's invitation... She met his gaze for an instant, and felt his hand
    tighten around hers just a tiny bit. Then, making a conscious decision not
    to think about this, she gently met his lips with her own.

    She felt as high as a kite, like she was flying through the clouds. It was
    quite possibly one of the most enjoyable moments she'd ever had in her life.
    And then she started to feel cold.

    Claire opened her eyes and pulled away to...well, *not* see Darien. Parts of
    him had gone invisible: an arm here, an ear there, and what she had noticed
    most, his mouth. "Darien?"

    Because the rest of the people at the party were government agents, and
    therefore all used to seeing weird things on occasion, nobody screamed.
    Much.

    "I think it's time for a little diversion," Hobbes said quickly. He and the
    Official immediately started making their ways toward the throng of people
    slowly backing away from Darien.

    "Aw, crap. I went see-through, didn't I." It wasn't a question. Darien
    looked balefully at his nonexistent right hand.

    "Looks like it," Claire agreed. "You've really got to work on controlling
    your emotions." As soon as the words dropped out of her mouth, she realized
    what she had said. Emotions...Darien...kissing her... Claire gulped.

    "I don't think I'll ever be able to control my emotions around you," he
    murmured under his breath.

    "What?" she asked, unsure if she'd heard him correctly, and if she had, what
    exactly he had meant.

    "Nothing." Darien took a few deep breaths, concentrating on getting his
    adrenaline down to manageable levels.

    "Good," Claire encouraged him. "Keep breathing like that. Think happy
    thoughts." She smirked at his glare for that comment, glad that she'd
    managed to joke her way into some emotional distance between them. Speaking
    of distance, physical separation might not be a bad idea, either. It would
    certainly help improve her current state of mind. Claire took a few steps
    back, until she was stopped short by the fact that Darien's visible left
    hand was still clasped around her own. He appeared to have no intention of
    letting go.

    Gradually at first, and then more rapidly, the Quicksilver flaked off of
    various parts of Darien's anatomy, disappearing into the air with a quiet
    chime. Darien smiled when he could see himself again, an infectious smile
    that Claire couldn't help but catch. He tugged on her hand, pulling her back
    from the distance she had gone. Claire felt her pulse begin to speed up.

    "Why don't we try this again?" Darien whispered, gazing down at her face.
    Claire, hypnotized by the deep brown of his eyes, was unable to do anything
    but nod once. She was extremely glad that *she* didn't turn invisible
    whenever her adrenaline shot up, because if she did, right now all that
    would be able to be seen would be a Claire-shaped dress.

    She relaxed quickly once they touched again. As the kiss deepened, she
    thought that this particular situation was definitely not one to fight or
    run away from, but to relish with every sense.

    Once they parted, Claire was pleased to see that Darien had remained visible
    this time. Apparently emotional control was working for him. "You're still
    here," she commented, still a little breathless from the kiss.

    "Well, not quite," he replied, looking flushed, but very happy. He held up
    his right hand, which was missing a pinkie finger. He shrugged. "Oh, well.
    Can't have everything." They watched as the silver dust fell off, revealing
    the wayward digit.

    Darien hugged his Keeper closer to him. "Merry Christmas, Claire," he
    murmured into her ear.

    Returning the embrace with delight, Claire whispered back, "Merry Christmas,
    Darien."

    The End