Happy New Year everybody! I'm planning this to be a short story. Not usually my style. Wish me luck.

Intro




For some reason, I expected working for the Federal Bureau of Investigations to be glamorous. I know. I know. What would posses a fiery tempered, redheaded fingerprinting clerk to dare to dream beyond the puce colored walls of her padded cubicle?

Too many James Bond movies. Not the old guy ones. The ones with Pierce Brosnan. At any age, that man was one sexy spy.

Why did the Hoover building seem devoid of such magnificent specimens of hunkosity? According to some of the other fingerprinting girls, there was a team upstairs with two swoonworthy agents—a dark haired guy with chocolate eyes that would melt the ice off any windshield and a dimpled Aussie who the girls swore could charm the slop from a pig.

Good grief. Slop from a pig? What am I saying? Wake up, Alex. You’re not in Kansas anymore.

No. I’m certainly not.

I’m in Washington, D.C. and Kansas is a long, long way from here.

Yanking a reindeer bedecked tissue from the pack in my desk drawer, I swiped the traitorous tear from my eye. This was my home now, and if I hurried, I could deck the halls of my tiny apartment, sip some store-bought nog, and open another day on my advent calendar.

I sighed with a silent admonishment. Be careful, Alex, or the excitement might overwhelm you.

Ah... poor thing... so far from home.

Welcome to the challenge, Lorna!

I love it! Alex is from my home state! Can't wait to see what happens when she meets the "magnificent specimens of hunkosity"! After all, those two are taken.

Lynn

Yay!! Lorna's writing a Christmas story!!!! LOVE IT!

Now this part I totally agree with, althought I'm a huge Sean Connery fan, too . . .
Amen. He's ruined us for the run-of-the-mill spy, hasn't he? He, along with the likes of, well, JACK . . .

Can't wait to read more about the exciting life of Fingerprinting Clerk Alex, previously of Kansas, now of DC . . .

You know, Myles can be a hunk in his own right. Not quite as hunkalicious as Jack or Bobby, but he still does have a few teeny tidbits of hunkosity of his own.

I'm just saying... we don't want him to feel left out, now do we?

Glad that you're joining the frenzy, Lorna. I hope Alex's holiday in DC turns out to be better than she ever expected.

Lindsy

WELCOME TO THE CHALLENGE OREO!

Ummm, but could you please inform young miss Alex from Kansas (well, it ALMOST rhymes) that she can just keep her hunkosity obsessed self far, far away from the team of two hunks. Those particular hunks are double the fun, but not for red-haired fingerprinting clerks... fiery tempered or not.

Tina

This may be a short story but you certainly managed to set the scene vividly:



Not to mention describing Alex to the point that not only do we feel like we know her but we're now rooting for her:





At first I was concerned that she might need glasses...but I guess she just comes and goes at odd hours of the day...or night and misses much of the scenery in the lobby.

I have to say that I would certainly never have thought of describing them exactly that way but...it does give an accurate description of two of our fave agents.

However: on you for not mentioning the third hunk. (and I'm not talking golden retriever here). He might be a little rough around the edges and so what if his eyes don't melt ice (that can be a good thing at a dinner party) or he couldn't charm the slop from a pig (honestly, no matter how cute the dimples, you really want to go out on the town with a guy carrying a bucket of slop? Ewwwwww!). You know who I'm talking about...right?????? I don't have to spell it out...M-Y-L-E-S.

Otherwise great start, oreo!

kav

WELCOME TO THE CHALLENGE, OREO!!!

"Magificent Specimens of Hunkosity"!! I love it!! Definitely sums it all up beautifully, doesn't it!!

Alex just jumps off the page!! I really want to get to know her better!! I agree with Tina though, in some areas, she sounds a little like a certain computer tech we all know and love - we don't want to distract a certain Aussie, now do we (although now that I think about it, it might hurry him along)??? LOL

Now, I have to jump on the bandwagon here and point out that, in my opinion, our fav team has FOUR specimens of hunkosity!! Myles has his moments, granted, and I have been known to swoon over him occasionally, but I must also add, what about D?? Even though he's married, he is definitely not hard on the eyes!! And, about the being taken part, don't we consider Jack and Bobby pretty much taken, too, and aren't we working on having Myles taken???

Joy

Chapter 1

“Hey!” Penny Petronicho stuck her head over the wall of the my cubicle. A candy cane protruded from the corner of her mouth. “You got your gifts ready to mail back to Kansas? My Pete says that if you don’t mail them today, you’ll have to pay extra to get them there on time.”

“And Pete, the patron saint of the U.S. Postal Service, would know.”

Penny giggled. “Okay, so he’s a little overzealous, but at least he likes his job.”

“I never would have guessed.”

Ever since Penny started dating Pete, I had been the recipient of at least a hundred postal horror stories, woes, and warnings. At least now I knew you couldn’t send even a note inside a book if you sent it book rate. Who knew when that little piece of information might prove earth shatteringly vital.

Still, Pete did have a point, and since the last thing I wanted was for my five younger siblings to not have a gift under the tree from me, I would have to forgo my foray into eggnog heaven and finish my shopping. I yanked open the stubborn file drawer to retrieve my purse, breaking a nail in the process. I held it up an examined the craggy edges. “Great. There goes that splurge for a manicure.”

“Sorry. I really thought your fingernail art was festive. I have a file. Do you want to borrow it?”

“No, I’ll file off Rudolph’s other antler later. I’d better get going if I’m going to heed Pete’s warning. Did he offer any other tidbits of wisdom?”

She waved the candy cane at me as she spoke. “Packing peanuts and bubble wrap are a girl’s best friend.”

I grinned, picturing my siblings being more excited about the bubble wrap than their gifts. I snagged my coat from the back of my chair. “I’ll remember that, Penny. See you tomorrow.”

After climbing into my “previously owned” yellow Honda, I started the engine. Strains of “Santa Baby” bellowed from the radio, and I smiled.

I loved Christmas.

Ever since I was a little girl, it had been my favorite holiday. I could quote nearly all of “The Night Before Christmas,” and I would like to challenge Santa himself to play name that tune with Christmas carols with me. I picked up my pok-a-dotted day planner and examined the gift lists my mother had sent. Thank goodness my father had a good job in computers or there would be no way to afford Christmas for our brood. We weren’t hotty, totty wealthy by any means, but there had never been a Christmas without three carefully selected gifts for each of us under tree. My mother always said, “Jesus only received three gifts. Why should get more than Him?”

One year, I remember replying, “But He got gold, frankincense, and myrrh, not pajamas, dolls, and Easy Bake ovens.”

“Do you think Santa comes to visit smart-mouthed little girls?” She then glanced at the little elf that sat on a high shelf that day watching over us all Christmas. “He’s watching, remember.”

As I pulled out into traffic, I wondered where mother had hid the “elf on a shelf” today. Although I’m 25, my younger siblings range from 18 to six. The two youngest, Cathy and Ben, would still love the elf tradition.

I pictured my dad coming home after work and having a heart to heart talk with the little elf. A grin spread across my face. I never knew my biological father as he died before I was born, but when my mother remarried when I was five, I got the best Christmas present ever—a daddy. Two years later, I got a second Christmas surprise—a sister named Noel.

By the time I reached the closest shopping mall, I’d already lost a precious hour of gift gathering to D.C. traffic. A driver in a fancy Lexus whipped in front of me and stole my parking space. I uttered a few things which I was certain would get me coal in my stocking, and then took a parking space in Zimbabwe.

Determined to not let the fact that half of D.C. was shopping at this particular mall, I stuffed the dayplanner in my oversized shopping bag along with my wallet, jammed my hands in my mittens, and trekked across the snowpacked parking lot. The jingle bell earrings, a gift from Penny, tinkled with each step. At least some angels were getting their wings.

At the first store, I managed to find a gift for dad which he hadn’t already purchased for himself, and a gift for Noel—a sweater that would hug all of her perfectly proportioned God-given curves. A subtle reminder that life was not fair.

Shortly after that, I ended up in a knock-down, drag-out toy pull with a woman who’d obviously had a few too many Christmas cookies. I was afraid we’d rip the arms off the Terrific Talking Teddy that topped Cathy’s list, so I gave in and let Cookie Monster have her way.

Jostled and bumped. Thumped and pushed, I made my way through the overcrowded aisles watching men purchase things for their wives that would surely land them on the couch.

I spotted another Talking Teddy and picked it up. Unfortunately, I lost my grip on his downy coat and he slipped from my grasp. Someone snatched him. I looked up only to see Cookie Monster ginning like a Chesire cat.

“That’s mine, and you already have one.”

“Ebay, honey. A girl’s got to make a living.” She smirked and waddled off.

I was more than a little tempted to vault onto her back and tear her hair out, piece by piece, but the F.B.I. frowns on criminal histories.

I still needed three more gifts when the announcement came over the loud speaker that the mall was closing in ten minutes, and one of the gifts was the elusive Talking Teddy. My heart broke at imagining my sister’s disappointment on Christmas morning. The crack widened when I realized I wouldn’t be there to see any of it—disappointment or joy. Even in college, I’d always made it home.

Not this time, Dorothy.

“The store will be closing in five minutes. Please make your final purchases at this time.”

My eyes fell on a Talking Teddy lodged between to Big and Tall Men’s suits in the Men’s Department. Arms laden with bags, I hurried over and picked it up the only way I could. With my teeth. Did I have enough time to make it to the counter?

No matter what contortion I struck, I simply couldn’t get a glimpse of my watch. Packages and parcels, grocery bags and the little box of divine fudge I just hadn’t been able to resist and had already consumed half of got in my way, obscuring my vision and wearing me down. Patience had been lost an hour ago, my joy of all things seasonal long before that and if I heard one more jingling bell I’d…

“Steady there. Looks like you could use some help.”

The voice was male, the kind tone my undoing. I dropped everything and promptly burst into tears.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the store is now closed,” the loud speaker boomed. “Please return tomorrow to make your selections, and remember, from our family to yours, we wish you Season's Greetings.”

Oh dear! Poor Alex. But maybe, just maybe the man behind the voice is her Knight in shining armor!

Kim

Oh, dear... I swear the Christmas rush practically scares me sometimes and this just shows why.

Poor Alex. She just seems so overwhelmed.

Lindsy

I have a feeling that at this point, the only way this new addition to the story is going to be seen as a "knight in shining armor" is if, 1. he's the incredibly-good-looking manager of the store and agrees to ring her purchase up after hours (which would make me wonder where we're going with this story), or, 2. he's an FBI agent previously un-named (because as has been indicated, Jack and Bobby ARE taken, after all . . . and I still hold out hope for Myles and Lucy, and D is DEFINITELY taken, so . . . ?) who has his own brand of hunkosity going for him and flashes his badge to get someone to ring up her purchase. I'm sure it's NEITHER of these scenarios, because you're WAY too good at coming up with twists and turns in your stories, Lorna!! Looking forward to the next chapter in Alex's Christmas saga!!

Were you eavesdropping on my pre-Christmas conversations with my children?

Alex simply has to meet Tara!!!!!!
and and I'm not saying anything else....except post again soon pulllleeeeeezeeeee!

kav

Alex didn't mention whether or not the "Cookie Monster" was green, but it sounds suspiciously like the Grinch trying to steal Christmas!!!

Now, who is this knight???

Joy

Joy, I have a suspicion about the knight, but I shall wait to see what Oreo has in store for us!
Tina

Chapter 2

Amid a heap of packages and one slightly slobbery Talking Teddy, I sat making a fool of myself in front of a total stranger. Tears coursed down my cheeks.

“There, there.”

He handed me a handkerchief, and when it touched my cheek, I thought I’d never felt one so incredibly soft. I glanced at the monogrammed initials in the corner. Very classy.

He squatted and began to gather my parcels. My face burned with embarrassment, and I dove in as well. “Thank you, but I can take care of this myself.”

“Of course you can, but you don’t have to.” He neatly stacked the bags and boxes on one long arm and then offered me his free hand and pulled me to my feet.

“Are you okay?” he asked, blue eyes searching my face.

“I didn’t get hurt.” I dabbed at the tears which stung my eyes.

“But you’re not okay.”

Lifting Talking Teddy from his perch at the top of the man’s stack, I set him on top of the rack. “I didn’t get to the register on time with that little guy.”

“Did you need it for someone special?”

“Yes, but I’ll have to find her something else. That will be gone by tomorrow when I get off work.”

He wrapped a large hand around the bear’s arm and carried it to the register in the Men’s Department. The cashier didn’t look up. “We’re closed.”

“Henry, are you certain you can’t make an exception?”

The clerk’s head snapped up. “For you, of course we can. What can I do for you? A new Armani?”

The man beside me shoved Talking Teddy across the table. “Just this.”

Henry scowled. “Just the stuffed animal. I have a the perfect silk scarf you could wrap around his neck.”

“Just the bear, please, Henry.”

"Certainly, Mr. Leland."

With Talking Teddy tucked beneath my arm, I walked to the exit with the man walking beside me, still carrying my things. Who was he? Monogrammed linen handkerchiefs, Armani suits, and a clerk who knew him by name. The only clerk who’d ever known me worked at Dairy Queen.

I turned to him. “Thank you, for your help. I can take the packages from here.”

“Nonsense. As a gentleman, I’ll be happy to convey these to your car.”

I shifted nervously. I didn’t know this man. For all I knew he could be a well-mannered, rich serial killer with a penchant for redheads. He must have sensed my unease.

“My name is Myles Leland, the Third, and I’m an F.B.I. agent. I can assure you that you're safe with me. Would you like to see my I.D.?”

I bit my lip and cocked my head to the side. A girl couldn't be too careful. “Would you mind?”

Wonderful! Yay!! But she did the right thing asking for I.D. . . . You just never know, now do you . . . . ? Most importantly . . . she got her Talking Teddy!!!!! Way to go, Myles!!

YES!! It's who I thought (and was hoping) it was.

And after this incredibly honorable gesture from Myles, maybe a lunch date is in order?

Lindsy

Tina, if you were thinking what I was thinking, we were both right!!!

Oreo, you've done it again - I'm in love with Myles!!! **sigh**

Joy

Chapter 3

Yep, the I.D. was authentic, and I should know. After all, I, too, am one of the Bureau’s finest. Well, maybe not finest, but at least significant. Maybe not even that, but I do work there and I do know what an agent’s badge looks like.

“So, can I walk you to your car, Miss…”

His voice trailed off, leaving me room to supply my name. I hesitated, but figured he at least deserved that. “Alex.”

“Is Alex your surname?”

I shook my head in confusion. Surname? Who talks like that anymore? “No, I’m Alex Walton.” He grinned and I shot him a warning glare. “No John-boy, Mary-Ellen jokes.”

He bit back an obvious chuckled. “I wouldn’t think of it.” Then, pushing the store’s door open, he motioned me through. “Lead the way, Alex Walton.”

“I had to park on the next continent because some jerk in Lexus cut me off. You may regret this.”

His steps faltered. “Lexus?”

“Black monster. He whipped right in even though I had my turn signals on.”

“Maybe the owner was in hurry. Office Secret Santa gifts can lead any man to insanity.”

“Or someone with a car like that he thinks he owns the road.”

We walked in silence for a minute. Enough snow had fallen while I was inside to sprinkle a thick layer of glitter on everything. I loved the magical feel, and with Talking Teddy in hand, I felt triumphant. My boots crunched on the packed snow. If I tried hard enough, I could have imagined being back in Kansas.

“So Alex, who is the lucky recipient of that fellow under your arm? Son? Daughter?”

Smooth. What a way to see if I’m married or have kids. I grinned. “Sister. She’s six.”

“So you have family here in D.C.?”

“No, Kansas. I’m the oldest of six. I need to send their gifts tomorrow or they won’t get them.”

I shivered and pulled the lapels together. “It’s freezing tonight. Here’s my car.” I pressed the trunk release button my keys and popped open. “I bet I’m the last lady in distress you'll ever help.”

“If I’m lucky,” he mumbled.

“Excuse me.”

“Nothing.” He deposited my packages and neatly arranged them. “Do you want Teddy with you or up front?”

I laughed and set him with the other things. As Myles closed the trunk, I looked at him for the first time. He had to be over six feet tall he easily topped all of my 5’8” by a good six inches. Though he didn’t exude the hunksterific looks of Brad Pitt or my dear Brosnan, he was certainly easy on his eyes, and I liked the casual sweep of his blond hair.

His dark topcoat and woolen scarf screamed money which sent off a second set of alarms. How did an F.B.I. agent buy those things? I know how much they pay me, and unless agents make quadruple of what I do, it would take me a year’s salary for me to buy Armani suits and Italian shoes.

My eyes narrowed as I considered the possibilities. Maybe he was a corrupt agent. I’d heard of them. If so, it was my duty as member of the Bureau to investigate. Right?

Then, before I had a chance to ask anything, he opened my car door. “Your carriage.”

I rolled my eyes, climbed into the frosty interior, and stuck my keys in the ignition.

“Why don’t you start it and let it warm up while I scrape your windshield?”

I couldn’t let him do that, too! Besides, I didn’t think he’d be impressed with the fact that I’d been using a credit card since my scraper got lost in the backseat’s clutter last week. Still, I turned my key in the ignition. The engine groaned but did not turn over. I hit the steering wheel with the palm of my mittened hand. Not this again. I should have known better. This car had ice water running through its veins. Every time the temp threatened to dip, it refused to budge.

“Try again,” he said calmly.

I did, but yielded similar results. I whipped out my cell phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling a cab.”

“No need. I’ll go get my car and come back and get you and your packages.”

“You’ve done too much already, Mr. Leland.”

“Myles. And so far this is the best Christmas shopping experience I’ve ever had. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” He shut my door.

Immediately, I felt entombed in the snow-covered car. If I wanted to bolt away from the possibly corrupt F.B.I agent, this was my chance. Cradling my cell phone, I started to dial Penny. She might have the lowdown on this Leland.

“A penny for your thoughts,” her voicemail announced, “but you can keep it because I’m not home right now. Leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you.”

Even in my snow encrusted den, lights behind my car alerted me that Myles had arrived. I took a deep breath. “One kind word, Alex Walton. That’s how you got in this mess. All he had to do was give you one kind word. No turning back now.”

I heaved the door open, the hinges creaking on my soon-to-be junk yard decoration beast. I stood up and turned to see him patiently waiting beside his car.

He smiled and opened the front door.

“You! You cut me off!"

"I didn't know it was you."

"Of all the insensitive, mean, incorrigible things to do. It’s Christmas. Where is your holiday cheer? Peace on earth? Goodwill to man? Or woman?”

“I am profoundly sorry.”

“Well, you can just keep your fancy apologies and your fancy Lexus. I’ll call a friend.” I rubbed my mittens over my arms as a shiver itched its way up my spine.

“Alex, you’re freezing. Let me make it up to you by buying you a cup of coffee somewhere, or better yet, hot chocolate. After I see you and your packages safely home, you’ll never have to see me again.”

Except we work in the same building. But he didn’t know that. I took a deep breath. “Fine, but I’ll get out my own packages this time.”

He chuckled. “Fine.”

Then, to my complete shock, he climbed in the front seat to wait for me, leaving me to transfer my own bags. I made three trips but managed to stuff my packages in the back seat. At last, teeth chattering, I was sitting next to him. Warmth rose from the leather seats beneath me.

I closed my eyes, savoring the moment. I was in love.

The Lexus had butt-warmers!

Ah...Oreo, you play on my weakness for Myles so well! I believe it's turning out to be a heart warming Christmas story for Myles and Alex. I loved the lexus - somehow, once we found out it was Myles - I had a hunch that the lexus was his.

The rest of the story so far Oreo is great but the above made me laugh!

Sam

:snort: :snort:

Ow... that kind of hurts. But that was priceless!

And I have the feeling that myles will win her over soon.

Lindsy

Behind warmers are the greatest! My little ol' Chevy has them and they are wonderful!

Now, back to Myles and Alex...could this be a match made in heaven?

Kim

My itty-bitty Subaru SUV has them too, and they're WONDERFUL. My only problem with them is that the switch for them is in a place where they can get turned on accidentally and all of the sudden (usually in July) your buttocks are getting really, really warm...

Yes Joy, we were both right. It was Myles!! I had the sneakiest suspicion when the Lexus cut her off that our Bostonian might be in the vicinity!

And getting to see him buy that talking teddy.... priceless.

Tina

There's soooo much good stuff in TWO posts! I can hardly stand it. I wonder if we have a quote quota? Rats, apparently we do.


I was suspicious before, but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was



Love the contrast between their two worlds.

We already feel like we know her and love her and then you give her a name like Walton and a line like that and she's just become kin!

Oh dear...Myles is in trouble after he so gallantly rescued her too.

I closed my eyes, savoring the moment. I was in love.

The Lexus had butt-warmers!

I love this girl!!!!!!! Go Alex!!!
And way to go Myles, being sauve by turning on the butt warmers! It's the way to a girls heart!

Chapter 4

“We’re having hot chocolate here?”

Myles shifted the car into park. “We can go somewhere else if you prefer.”

I scanned the sparking windows of the upscale restaurant, and then looked down at my jeans. “Myles, It’s just that I’m not dressed for this place.”

“As long as you’re not wearing flip-flips or a halter top, you meet their dress code. Besides, they close in half an hour. We don’t even need valet parking this late.”

“Still…”

“Ceiba’s was just listed in U.S.A. today as one of the top ten places in the country for hot chocolate.”

“But Myles…”

He unbuckled his seatbelt and twisted towards me. “And the hot chocolate comes with a warm sugar, cinnamon-dusted churro drizzled with dark rich hot fudge and almond marshmallow cream.” He lifted his eyebrows expectantly. “What do you think?”

“I think I gained ten pounds with your description, but I have to admit it’s tempting.”

“You do seem like a woman who likes to take a few chances.”

“If I go inside that place dressed like this, I’ll certainly be doing just that.”

I looked from him to the restaurant. I didn’t frequent these kinds of places. Ceiba’s, I’d heard, specialized in Contemporary Latin American Cuisine. Although I didn’t have a clue what that might entail, I seriously doubted if that included anything served at Taco Bell. This could be a chance in a lifetime, and I did love a good risk.

“It’s up to you,” Myles said softly. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. We can stop at the IHOP instead if you’d rather”

“Not on your life, mister.” I reached to unfasten my buckle. The International House of Pancakes or this? Did I look like a fool? The memory of our less than graceful meeting flashed through my mind, and I decided that, on second thought, I didn’t think I’d voice that particular question aloud. I may indeed look like a fool. For all I knew, I could look like a clown, too, after all the tumbling I'd done tonight.

Quickly, I snapped open the lighted mirror on the visor, ran my fingers through my spongy red curls, and made sure I didn’t have any mascara smudges leftover from my crying jag.

“Ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Like a gentleman, he insisted I not touch the doo until he came around to open it. “I’m was hoping I could convince you to stay here.”

I gave him a cheeky grin. “You didn’t need to try so hard. You had me at the churro.”

Instead of feeling out of place, for some reason, with Myles beside me, I felt like I belonged at the upscale restaurant. The colorful Latin murals made the contemporary lines feel warm and inviting, and he was right about the hot chocolate. Laced with cinnamon, it was the best I’d ever had.

But it wasn’t the churro or the chocolate I found myself enjoying. It was the man who’d come to my rescue. Everything about him said he should be stuffy. He was smart, Harvard educated, and had been an agent several years. Still,as soon as we started talking, he was anything but uppity. In fact, he seemed a bit shy—in an endearing sort of way, and genuinely interested in me.

“Honestly, we’d race to find the elf every morning. The first one to spot him, got a surprise.” I took another bite of my churro. “What traditions did your family have?”

“We didn’t.”

“Not one? Getting a tree? Sitting on Santa’s lap? Sneaking into your gifts?”

“Our tree was delivered and my mother had a decorator come and do it. My father thought encouraging a child’s fantasies about a fat man in a hideous red suit was ridiculous, and who needs to sneak to see a gift when you know it’s not what you want anyway. If you don't know your child, you have no idea what he wants for Christmas.”

“Oh Myles, I’m sorry.”

He waved me off. “Christmas just wasn’t my parents forte. So, tell me every detail of yours. Maybe I can experience the most blessed holiday vicariously.”

“All of it?”

“From chopping the tree to making cookies.”

“Myles, that could take all night.”

“Then, I guess you’ll just have to agree to dinner tomorrow as well.” He leaned back in his chair. “It’s the least you can do for the man who made sure your sister got a Talking Teddy.”

Right then and there, I should have said that I wasn’t in his league. His world was as foreign to me as contemporary Latin cuisine. Good grief. I wasn’t even living in the same universe.

I didn’t say no, but I should have.

It would have been easier that night to say goodbye. Waiting only hurt us both.

Oh, Lorna . . . we were having such a lovely time . . . and now I'm worried! What do you have up your sleeve THIS time?

Myles shy. It's so cute to imagine.

Lindsy

I love Caveman Myles.... I think I have a thing for neanderthals...
hmmmm, anyways, I really hope this works out, they both seem very lonely during the holiday and a little company could do them both a world of good.

I'm in! Yoohoo, Myles -- over here!" Rats, he's holding the door open for Alex.

So, I totally enjoyed that. The idea that Myles was endearingly shy, that he was so captivated by her Christmas stories....well, can I just say blissful sigh? (And by the way, we have a gnome in my house...Nimbo, he hides in the most astonishing places at Christmas time. To my knowledge though, he doesn't have any connection to the North Pole, but he does have the Christmas Spirit!)

Now you've totally burst my happy bubble with your dire ending. Bah humbug!!!!

kav

Oreo, it was great to catch up to find that you had started this tale. Alex Walton is delightful and I loved the way that she met our Myles. I can't wait to see what you have in store for us.

I think our Alex needs to stop worrying about the differences between her and Myles and start enjoying the fact that he definitely likes her and her company!! And, what a perfect match she is for him!! She could totally keep Myles guessing and interested for a lifetime!!!

Joy

Only if the wind was blowing at least 40 miles an hour and changing direction hourly!

I actually did have a moment like this yesterday because sometimes if you imagine hard enough the endless prairie sky and wind can almost seem like the Oregon Coast.

Great writing Oreo!

Myles, you smooth talking devil. Alex is discovering the softer side of Myles that we were fortunate to have glimpsed and loved occasionally. I hope she's successful in persuading him to display it more often. (Yes, I've decided to completely ignore the last 2-1/2 sentences of your posts. I'm happier that way.)

Tina

I could find myself falling for this Myles! Even without the hot chocolate and seat warmers.

Kim

Thank you all for reading! I hope your new year is starting out wonderfully. I am woefully afraid this will not be a short story, but we'll see.

Chapter 5

To his credit, Myles didn’t make any comments on my less than attractive apartment complex. I saw disapproval flicker across his face when I opened the front door without needing to use the keycard pad.

“It’s broken,” I offered lamely.

“Has it worked in this century?”

Since as far as I knew, it hadn’t, I didn’t answer. He climbed the three flights of stairs to my apartment still bearing half my packages. I managed to balance Teddy and a rather a large box and still unlock my front door without teetering. I set the bags down just inside the door and turned back to Myles to hastily retrieve the others. I hated the awkward feeling at the end of first dates. Was that what this was? It wasn’t –really—but it felt like it that anyway.

I considered asking him in for a minute, but it didn’t feel right. My apartment looked like it had been hit by one of Kansas’ twisters. Somehow I didn’t think Myles would be impressed. He didn’t strike me as a man who decorated in vintage Chinese takeout.

And my poor little Christmas tree from the Goodwill needed a lot more than tinsel and a smattering of ornaments to make its branches lovely.

I lifted the bags from his arm and dropped them inside beside my parcels. I eased the door closed behind me and pressed my back against it. “Thank you for your help in the store and afterwards with my car. And thank you for the hot chocolate and conversation. I really enjoyed myself.”

“So did I. Can you get a ride to work tomorrow?”

“Yes, my friend Penny lives across the hall. I’ll catch a ride with her.” It suddenly occurred to me that we’d never talked about where I worked. Wouldn’t he be shocked to run into me there tomorrow? “Do you know any good mechanics where I can have Princess Icicle towed to?”

“You named your car?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

He grinned. “I have a friend named Charlie. He’s reasonable. He can tow it, too. Do you want me to call him for you?”

“No, I can take care of it.” I asked him for the number, and he pulled out one of Charlie’s cards from his wallet.

He cleared his throat. “And speaking of numbers, would you think me too forward if I asked for yours?”

No, you’ll need that when you call to cancel tomorrow night after you realize the mistake you made. I fumbled in my bag and found a wadded receipt and a pen. I smoothed it out on my hand and jotted down both my home and cell numbers.

Tiny sparks flew when he brushed my hand in accepting the slip of paper. Our eyes met, and I quickly looked down.

“Will 7:00 give you enough time to get home and get ready tomorrow?” he asked.

I nodded. “Can I ask if it will be dress or casual?”

“Casual.”

I released the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

His lips bowed in a smile and he caught me hand in his and squeezed it. “This is the first Christmas tradition I’ve looked forward to in a long time. I’ll be here tomorrow at 7:00.”



Penny must have been spying on my through her peephole, because Myles hadn’t been gone two minutes when she came pounding on my door. In exchange for her assistance in wrapping and packing my purchases, I agreed to fill her in. She wanted every detail, but I left out the significant ones like his name and the fact he was an agent. The rest of the story amply satisfied her curiosity.

“You didn’t ask him in. Good girl. You don’t want to appear desperate.”

I stuffed Talking Teddy in a large box. He looked cold, so I pulled out hand towel and wrapped him in it. “I’m not desperate, Penny.”

She patted my arm. “There’s no shame in admitting one hasn’t felt the touch of a warm body for quite some time.”

“Penny!” I felt my cheeks heat. I had not intention of feeling any warm bodies in the way Penny meant until I was married. “Besides, I’ve only lived here for five months and half of that I spent getting settled.”

She filled her box with packing peanuts. “So this is the perfect time to cultivate a romance.”

“It’s a date. Not a lifetime commitment.”

“Oh, but one will lead to two and two to four and four to eight and ...”

“And exactly how did you do at math in school?”

Penny frowned and sealed her box. “I’m just saying that you have no idea how far his one kind word of his will go.”

More! More! More! (I'm enjoying this a LOT!)

I am so enjoying this. I can't wait to see what happens when these two meet next.

Exactly what I was thinking. Will it be in the elevator? the parking garage? the corridor? So many possibilities!

This story just makes me happy!!!!!!
Can't wait for more!!

I'm wondering if, for one reason or another, she just might have to pay a visit to a certain bullpen, to maybe converse with a certain rotor... or something along those lines.

I hope Myles's plans for their next date gets her to relax a little. Who knows? She might actually learn to like him.

Lindsy

Oh, Alex, I think you should have been up front about where you work. I/m not quite sure why, but I don't think leaving out that bit of info is going to lead to good things...


Pfffffffft. Like we care. The longer, the better!!

Tina

Your woeful is my joyful!

I knew she was a kindred spirit but now I adore her and she can do no wrong and you so better not mess up her life or her chance at romance or I'll hunt you down and then you'll be woeful!

kav

Chapter 7

Since I didn’t trust that Myles’ definition of casual meant jeans and T-shirt, I opted for khakis and a rich earth tone sweater I’d splurged on with my first pay check. Checking myself in the mirror, I decided that if “What Not to Wear” were secretly following me, at least I wouldn’t be embarrassed if this outfit were displayed on national television once I added some much needed blingage.

I was still jamming the last dangly earring in my earlobe, when the door bell ran. I grabbed up my shoes (the pointy toed kind that the WNTW people rave about, not the comfy kind sane people wear) and put them on as I hurried across my apartment, nearly breaking my ankle in the process. I paused at the door, took a deep breath, glanced through the peephole, before opening it.

“Hi. Come on in.” Relief flooded over me when I saw that beneath his black leather coat he, too, was wearing khakis. He’d topped them with a blue and black marbled sweater that brought out the blue of his eyes. I’d promised myself earlier that if he showed up in a suit and tie, I was sending him packing.

“You look incredible.”

Incredible? My cheeks burned and I imagined they now matched the shade of my hair. Lovely. Nice. Good. I expected compliments like that, but incredible… I lifted my coat from the stand by the door. Myles took it from my hands and assisted me in getting it on. “Thank you. And Myles, you look very handsome yourself.”

He pressed his hand to my back as we left the apartment, and I felt a new kind of warmth creep over me at his touch. There was nothing suggestive or possessive about it. It felt natural.

And that scared me to death.

After we got in the car, Myles pulled out of the parking lot. I fidgeted in my seat.

“Wonder where we’re going?”

“I’d be lying if I say no, but can I reserve veto rights in advance.”

He chuckled. “I think that’s a wise choice. I’ll be honest. In the past, I’ve made elaborate plans for first dates only to find my date didn’t share my love for Moroccan food or didn’t have the pallet for a hot Thai pepper. So, I opted for something a little less unique, but still unusual enough we should enjoy ourselves.”

“You have my curiosity piqued, Myles Leland.”

“Good. I’d hate to boor you this early in the evening.”

As we drove, I asked Myles about his day. To my surprise, Myles didn’t want to talk about it. He said it had been uneventful. I knew that not to be true. The fact was that I’d already heard his team had taken down a rather major crime figure. The whole Bureau was buzzing, and rumor was that Myles had played a significant role in the bust.

He grew quiet after my question, and I wondered if office gossip had been incorrect. Maybe the take-down had gone awry. Still, I didn’t know him well enough to know if I should press or not. I sat quietly and listened to the music playing quietly in the Lexus. “This is Manheim Steamroller!”

Snapping back from his distant thoughts, he smiled at me. “Are you a fan?”

“What do you think? This is the ‘Chrismas Lullaby’ from their ‘Christmas in the Aire’ album. I love this song. How did you know I liked them?”

“I didn’t. I listen to Manheim Steamroller all season. It’s my own little tradition.”

Myles stopped the car in front of a restaurant called “The Melting Pot.” I wasn’t familiar with it, but I noticed that beneath the name it said, “Dip into something different.” I glanced at him and lifted an eyebrow.

“Uh, uh, uh, Miss Alex. You’ll have to wait and see.”

Inside, I immediately spotted the fondue pots on the table. I bit my lip to keep from squealing. I’d been so afraid that we’d go someplace stuffy, but this would be fun.

“I take it from the smile on your face, you approve of my choice.”

“I certainly do, but for the record, I also love Thai food and would be willing to give Morracan a try at least once.”

“Well, that certainly sounds promising.”

Heat swept up my neck all the way to the top of my head. Did I just suggest not one, but at least two more dates? Maybe I could just stab myself with the fondue fork and put myself out of my self-induced misery. Maybe I should have just put on a big "Idiot" sign.

The hostess seated us, and after consulting my preferences, Myles ordered a special cooking sauce that I’d be lucky to pronounce. The word rolled off his lips easily and the waiter seemed impressed.

“Myles, what did you study in college?”

“I have two degrees. One in business and one in foreign language studies.”

A smile creased my face. “That’s why you could pronounce that sauce so well. How many languages do you speak?”

“Five—some better than others, but don’t tell anyone. The Bureau thinks I speak them all with the same degree of fluancy, but what they don't know won't hurt them. I've also been learning some sign language, but don't let that out either."

"You secret is safe with me."

"What about you? Where did you go to college?”

I was pleased he didn’t assume I hadn’t gone to college. “I graduated from Kansas State with a degree in criminal science.”

Myles' brows drew together, but our food arrived before he could press further. Maybe he would let it drop. I watched Myles spear a piece of lobster and immerse it in the boiling liquid in the center of the table. “Like C.S.I. stuff?”

So much for letting the topic go. At least he watched television. I, too, dipped a piece lobster in. “Yes, sort of. You, of all people, know how inaccurate shows can be. I have a little handwriting analysis expertise as well.”

“So, if I wrote you a note, you’d be able to tell my darkest secrets.” His eyes twinkled mischieviously.

I pointed my fork at him. “If you were writing me notes, I’d hope you wouldn’t have any darkest secrets.”

“Then, you’re in luck.” He stabbed a piece of shrimp. “So, tell me more about your family.”

I waved my fork. “Not this time. I talked all last night. Now, I want to hear about your family.”

“I’ve got a father, Myles Leland the Second, a mother named Tricia, and a sister named Anne. She works for a legal aide society giving free assistance to abused women. My father is in finance. My mother makes sure our family keeps up appearances.”

I couldn’t help but notice how formally he referred to them. “Anything else?”

“I can tell you about my team.” He sat up proudly when he spoke of them, and gave me a detailed description of each of them. While he’d spent less than a minute telling me about his biological family, he told me stories about his team for nearly half an hour. He had the up most respect for D both as a supervisor and as a husband and father. I felt like I knew turtle Jack and sweet Sue from his descriptions, and believed he was as thrilled about their budding relationship as they were. Bobby, the Aussie, was like the brother you can't live with and you can't live without. Tara's quirkiness made Myles grin, and when he spoke of Lucy, I could tell there was a history. Clearly, this was his real family, and I found myself wanting to meet them.

After the dessert chocolate fondue arrived, Myles took a deep breath. “Alex, I need your help with something.”

“What is it?”

“It has to do with Christmas.”

“If you need a woman’s opinion on what to buy your mother, I’m afraid you are out of luck? I wouldn’t have a clue where to start. Now, if you want me to help you find something for your friend Tara, I know just where to look.”

“No, it’s not that. I want to buy a tree.” He slipped his credit card into the bill folder and the waiter carried it away.

“A real one?”

He nodded. “And I don’t know the first thing about what to look for in an acceptable tree.”

“You want to find a tree tonight? In the dark?”

“It’s still early, but if you need to get home…”

“No, no. I’ll help you find a tree. It'll be fun.”

“And all the things that goes on it?”

“All of it? Lights? Ornaments? Angel? You don’t have anything?”

“Not even a piece of tinsel. Remember, I’ve never decorated one. How many lights do you need? Two or three thousand?”

I laughed. He really was clueless.

The waiter returned and he signed the slip. “So, do I put in ‘Oh Tannenbaum’ in the car or do I take you home to ‘Silent Night’?”

I took a deep breath. The tilt of his head, the smile that graced his face, the twinkle in his eye tugged at my heart. How could I say no to man who’d never had a real Christmas tree?

“As long as you understand that tree decorating is a serious issue—nothing to be trifled with.”

He stood and pulled out my chair. “I’ll obey your every command.”

I absolutely LOVE Myles like this!!!!!! Where's a "I heart Myles" sign when you need one!!

And I agree with Alex when it comes to What Not To Wear!! I do love that show but I'm pretty sure they'd shoot me if they ever saw my attire!

What a terrific first date!! I love the idea of "The Melting Pot," and the way he described his team. Has Alex told him, yet, that they work in the same building? Looking forward to more!!

You capture her awkward embarrassment so well. And Myles is absolutely dreamy...and extremely clever, hooking her in with his little-boy-lost-when-it-comes-to-Christmas-decorating. They are perfect for each other...let's keep them both thinking that way, okay?

kav