Marcus Pike X F!reader - Blog Posts

Pike's Place When Harry Met Sally Finale

I fell hard for these two, in an unexpected way. It wasn't until @burntheedges "Roll-a-Trope Challenge" that I managed to really sink my teeth into this delectable winter treat. I've completed a slow burn Winter Series with the assist of @inept-the-magnificent! Hope you enjoy!

Triggers: little profanity, no real smut just kissy time, New Year's celebration and revisitation of the ex...

Word Count: 2k

Series Masterlist

Pike stood joyfully beaming, his cheeks rosy from the cold, and unabashedly in love. Politely jostled from side to side, and standing outside the Lincoln Memorial, he and thousands of his closest friends were awaiting the countdown to New Year’s. Perhaps working for the CIA Art Squad had a few perks. Jamming his hands further still into his winter jacket, he marveled at how many memories seemed to be etched in the snow over the last several weeks.

Meeting you. Surviving the snow-apocalypse. Celebrating Christmas. Falling in love. In some ways, everything had happened so quickly, and yet there was a familiarity, even a nostalgia that added to the sense of destiny. It really is a wonderful life, he mused looking around at the happy families and snuggling couples, feeling a momentary pang of longing, anticipating your impending reunion.

After the cinematic rescue, you had both made it back into town and shared a precious 24 hours together, reaffirming your decision and beginning to make plans. Pike was still gobsmacked you had offered to move to Washington D.C to explore the burgeoning potential of your relationship. There was no doubt in his mind that he was head over heels in love with you, but circumstances had proven him wrong so many times before. The heightened flurry of your relationship added a dull sparkle to the proceedings that Pike almost couldn’t believe. Every kiss. Every hug. Every text. It all seemed too good for someone like him, and this was the final gauntlet. 

Having already shipped his belongings to D.C and tying up any loose, Californian ends, Pike had bidden you an emotional farewell at the airport, safe in the knowledge that you were going to follow in a matter of days. It hadn’t been easy to arrange the travel, but working for the CIA was turning out to be the professional blessing he had always dreamed of. You needed time to explain the situation to your parents, professionally transition into a permanent remote position, put larger items in storage and give your apartment complex 30 days notice. Texting and talking everyday, the bigger countdown had begun, until you could hop on a plane and join Pike for the New Year’s celebration you had only seen in movies. Except it wasn’t a cinematic illusion anymore. This was going to be reality. He hoped.

Shuffling his feet together restlessly, he glanced down at his phone anxiously. You had already boarded the plane in California and were headed towards him, but even the reunion had been difficult to orchestrate. Holidays were rough, and Mother Nature seemed to be following the two of you wherever you went. Pike looked around The Lincoln Memorial imagining it columned by cherry blossoms, walking hand in hand to local food markets. Maybe you’d wear a pink sundress, your heels clicking across the marbled floors of the Smithsonian. Maybe he would take off his suit jacket and place it lovingly around your shoulders when the summer breeze began to turn into autumn caresses. Pike shivered mindlessly in the winter chill as another partygoer apologized profusely for the inconvenience. He finally had everything he needed, but where was the girl? HIS girl. His “Pink”.

Settling in to his D.C apartment, he wasn’t sure the sparse emptiness was dictated by newness alone. There was something missing, and it was YOU. It had been a part of the ongoing discussion, but Pike wanted to take it slow. He knew all too well the ramifications of only leading with his heart and not his head, and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he could call you his girlfriend yet, but moving across the country for the sake of love seemed like a pretty good sign. He just prayed he could be worthy of the sacrifices you were already making and that he wanted to return.

Pike checked his phone once again, disappointedly glancing down at his feet, and the pamphlets and candy wrappers littering the landscape. The beauty and community of D.C was absolutely phenomenal, but what he wouldn’t give for a bowl of Thai, a hot toddy and his hot girlfriend cuddled up next to him, watching “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington”. Jimmy Stewart understood. Sometimes, all a man needs is his principles, his passions and his person…Pink. Pike nodded his head definitively. If he could just find her.

Desperately scanning the crowd once again, he was just about to offer his own apology of concern before taking a second glance at the nightmarish-like figure that had bumped against him awkwardly.

Lisbon.

Reprimanding himself for a slew of profanity that flashed through his mind, he bit his lower lip painfully. What the hell was his ex doing in D.C? Was he hallucinating? Was this another one of his evening terrors come to life? But, abruptly shoved from side to side and exiting his romantic reverie, he found himself face to face with the life not lived. This moment was all too real, and he initially wanted to escape it as quickly as possible.

“Agent Pike!” Lisbon awkwardly chirped, as Marcus cleared his throat with irritation. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from the exchange, it just seemed to drag all of his newly buried insecurities to the surface once again. He had already crossed the United States to start anew, and somehow his past was threatening to derail his promising new future. Good God, what if you decided to show up NOW! Pike looked nervously around him, seeking an escape route, but immediately doubled down on his resolve. Those who did not learn from history were doomed to repeat it, and he couldn’t be more assured of his steps moving forward. This was the moment he could finally put the nail in the coffin that was Christmas Past, and delightedly step into a new year and a new future…with YOU.

“Agent Lisbon” Pike mumbled, jamming a cold hand forward and shaking Lisbon’s hand curtly. “How do you find yourself in D.C this winter?” he attempted the idle small talk, still searching the crowd for your redemptive face. This was not how he planned to start the New Year.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to avoid your offices during my visit here. I know things are…difficult” Lisbon sighed, her eyes squinting skeptically at Pike in the anticipatory crowd. Marcus paused, thinking back on the quick friendship that had developed in the professional time together, and felt his heart melt slightly at the unnecessary awkwardness. What was he doing? This wasn’t necessary. Nobody had done anything wrong. The paths of life had happily taken them in different directions, and without those very same choices, he wouldn’t have found his way to Pike’s Place and more importantly….to YOU. This was a chance to move forward, without hesitancy and step into the optimism of a New Year.

“It’s nice to see you again!” Pike smiled good-naturedly, clocking Lisbon’s immediate skepticism. “I…I’m getting situated into the D.C offices, and if I’m totally honest, that’s thanks to you!” he impishly smirked, shrugging his shoulders transparently. “It’s a wonderful step for me and…my life is really starting to take off here” he confessed, hoping he was communicating  enough of the details to put Lisbon at ease, and not so many intricacies as to confuse the situation. 

“You look good!” Lisbon exclaimed, her cheeks reddening slightly at the possible misinterpretation of the moment, as Pike’s eyes lit up with acknowledgement.

“I’m waiting for my…I’m meeting someone!” Pike beamed like a schoolboy, seizing the opportunity to share in his recent triumph, and hopeful that Lisbon was receptive. 

“Oh?!” Lisbon looked temporarily shocked, and then relieved to see Pike grinning from ear to ear so enthusiastically. 

“YeahImnotreallysureifIcancallhermygirlfriendyetbutwebasicallysavedone anotherslives.YouwouldnotbelievetheChristmaswewereabletosharetogetherandletsbehonestyouandIneverreallyconnectedinthewaythatwouldhavelastedandbythewayIneverapologizedformisreadingthatsituationwithyou.AnywaysIthinkthismightbeitandIamthinkingaboutaskinghertomoveinwithmewhichissoclassicPikebutIknowwebelongtogetherandIknowshefeelsthesameway!”

Pike breathed quickly, a rush of adrenaline surging through his system as his face flushed with the excitement of love’s glow. Pink must be rubbing off on me, he chuckled with slight chagrin, checking his phone once again as the DJ attempted to corral the audience into some last minute celebrations.

Lisbon registered a momentary look of surprise before relaxing into a more peaceful acknowledgment. “That’s wonderful Agent Pike, if anyone deserves it, it’s YOU” she smiled, with tight lips, taking a moment to squeeze Pike’s forearm in friendship and scoot past him quickly.

“I won’t…uh…I won’t be seeing you at the office, will I?” Pike winced at the phrasing, but wanted to be crystal clear about his intentions. Only one woman had his heart, and he was desperately hoping you would arrive in time to save him once again.

“No!” Lisbon nearly shouted, enveloped slightly by the oncoming crowd and gesturing behind her. Just wanted to get a peak at the New Year celebration! Headed to the airport now! Congrats Pike, it couldn’t happen to a better guy!”

Pike beamed with renewed confidence, already distracted by the buzzing phone in his hand. “Gotta go Lisbon! Great to see you!” he plugged his ear tightly, cradling the phone to the side of his face…. “PINK????!!!!”

All that materialized was a garbled static of white noise, as Pike looked furiously around for your familiar face. “PINK???!!!” he shouted a few more times before the call dropped unceremoniously. A few solitary snowflakes flitted before his gaze as the DJ began to organize the countdown. He was running out of time! Were you okay? Where were you? Was your flight delayed? The crowd began to chatter nervously, enjoying the quick snowfall and surge of New Year energy. He knew his expectations always seemed to be running out of his control, but how he longed to hold you in his arms again. Even the past few days had felt interminable, having previously shared such intimacy, he was almost crawling out of his skin to get to you in these last celebratory moments of the year that had finally brought him to YOU. Punching a few buttons quickly, he redialed, waiting for the lilting sound of his reason to celebrate. His reason to love. His…

Pink.

The bright, gregarious shock of your pink snowsuit dotted the otherwise camouflaged landscape as you both made eye contact from about fifty feet away.  “Alright folks, we’ve got about five minutes left before the countdown begins. Start prepping for that New Year’s Eve kiss!” the announcer exclaimed, as your face lit up in a dazzling array of joy. Pike’s eyes widened enthusiastically, as he inched his way closer to you, desperately trying to pace himself, but overwhelmed by his dreams finally coming to fruition. Like two magnets, you were drawn together, giggling and shuffling around the sea of humanity surrounding you.

“Hey stranger!” you shouted before Pike tenderly grasped your face in both hands and planted a deep, passionate kiss between your lips seductively. The entire crowd disappeared quietly as you hummed into Marcus’ mouth contentedly. You were exactly where you wanted to be, here in Pike’s embrace, ready to start the New Year with all the promise and acceptance you both so readily deserved. Pike pulled back slightly, his face flush with the cold and excitement of the moment.

“Sorry, I couldn’t wait…” Pike grinned dopily, running his hands down your arms warmly and intertwining his fingers with yours. “You’re here!” he sighed, smiling down at you with tenderness.

“You’ve got me!” you retorted, seeing nothing but Pike. The last few days had been a whirlwind of activity and obligation, but you found yourself on the doorstep of a new life and a new empowerment, and wanted to enjoy every moment of it. “I dropped off my luggage at the hotel before I arrived…I think my phone is all wonky…” you explained, before Pike pulled you in for another kiss.

“Okay folks, grab your loved ones it’s time to start the countdown of one minute!” the DJ  shouted, but it all seemed like meaningless nonsense in the background of your sparkling bubble of love.

“I’ve been thinking about that…” Pike lowly intoned, drawing your forehead to his and swaying back and forth slightly in the cold, winter air. “No pressure, or anything, but if you wanted to stay with me…for a bit…we could…see about keeping each other warm?” Marcus teased, biting at your lower jaw suggestively, and wrapping his arms tightly around your torso. You snuggled up into the crook of his neck, enjoying the bristle of his newly developing winter’s beard, and peppering feather-light kisses across the sensitive skin below it.

“For survival?” you questioned curiously, finally hearing the crowd begin the New Year’s countdown.

“For survival!” Pike teased, kissing you sensitively on the cheek.

“SIX—FIVE…” the crowd began.

“FOUR—THREE…” you and Pike mirrored one another with ebullience.

“TWO—ONE—-HAPPY NEW YEAR!” everyone shouted victoriously, but you were already lost in the next kiss that never really ended. The loudspeakers started to play “Auld Lang Syne” as happy partygoers attempted to sing along.

“What does this song mean? My whole life, I don't know what this song means. 'Should old acquaintance be forgot'. Does that mean that we should forget old acquaintances? Or does it mean that if we happened to forget them, we should remember them, which is not possible because we already forgot ‘em?” Pike recited above the din of the loudspeakers.

“That was impressive!” you yelled back. “How many times have you watched ‘When Harry Met Sally?’” you teased, pinching at Pike’s stomach playfully.

“Not nearly enough, if it hasn’t been with you!” he beamed, hugging you tightly and finally assured that everything would be alright. It was the beginning of your life in D.C, your life with Pike and the life you had always dreamed of, but never fully grasped. And yet here you were; grasping the love of your life firmly and fixedly with both hands, and never letting go. Happy New Year!

*thanks @unknown-till for the cool dividers!

@morallyinept @littlemisspascal @wannabe-urs

@beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @wordywarriorwrites

@janaispunk @timelordfreya @schnarfer @devineconjuring 

@mermaidgirl30 @mandolover37 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk 

@sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave 

@copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita @princesspurple75

@harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @zaniasky @quicax3

@shaunasflannel @anelva @shinyanchorobject @flyingthroughtheave @anoverwhelmingdin 

Pike's Place Die Hard

This is it! The culmination of the last few months and we've finally arrived at this Christmas reveal. It wasn't until @burntheedges "Roll-a-Trope Challenge" that I managed to really sink my teeth into this delectable treat. What a delightful slow burn Winter Series with the assist of @inept-the-magnificent!

Triggers: finally, the smut we all deserve, profanity, emergency survival situation, sexy time confusion, reference to hysterectomy/pandemic, safe P in V, angsty angst and so much crying, you won't be disappointed...

Word Count: 12k (I don't know what happened...)

Series Masterlist

Hearing your feet crunch amidst the steadily falling snow, you squinted cautiously as Pike teetered precariously on a ladder against the cabin. Willing a Christmas Miracle of the grandest proportions you prayed that this was not the end, but only the beginning. Turning back to face the roaring ember which was once the woodshed, you were momentarily grateful for the heated repose. But it was only a matter of time before the blaze died down, and you and Pike found yourselves back in the apocalyptic blizzard that threatened more than your holiday plans. 

Shifting uncomfortably in the icy winds, you rubbed your hands together, blowing into them for warmth and taking stock of the last 24 hours. The electricity was out. The generator had gone up in flames. Lacking reception and facing the quandary of downed telephone lines and crippled power cables you gazed dejectedly at Bessie the Hyundai who anthropomorphically sighed fifty feet down the road. The final straw had been the carbon monoxide poisoning. Your eyes shot back to Pike who was helplessly attempting to clear a large oak which had unceremoniously teetered into the side of the cabin, effectively covering the chimney and your final source of heat.

Well, maybe not the final source. 

Pike shook his head in defeat, returning the ladder to its resting place and joining you aside the flickering flame, which had steadily diminished. The blizzard was determined to extinguish your dwindling sense of hope, if not your lives in the process. Anticipating his return, you marveled at his MacGyver-like repair of the shattered foyer window. You couldn’t be more grateful that your travels had brought you to Pike’s Place. You just wondered if the journey were ending so much sooner than either of you had intended.

Pike strode up beside you, bumping into your shoulder good naturedly and shouting above the din of the conflagration and freezing gales. “IT’S NO USE!” he shouted into your ear, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulder and swaying slightly against the icy, buffeting winds. “I CAN’T CLEAR ENOUGH OF THE LIMBS FOR US TO USE THE CHIMNEY! WE NEED ELECTRICITY IF WE’RE GOING TO SURVIVE!” You nodded in affirmation, already feeling the stinging affect of the frigidity against your cheeks and lips as the fire died down. “LET’S GET YOU INSIDE!” he exclaimed, taking your hand in his and trudging back to the stilled cabin. It might be cold, but at least it could shelter you from what was about to come. Pike kicked the door open with a flurry of wind and snow as you stooped down to light the remaining emergency candles that had blown out in the preceding minutes. Although immediately grateful for the cessation of the squall, an empty chill began to permeate your bones as Pike gathered the water, rations, pillows and blankets beside the now obsolete fireplace. Gazing over at the once happy Christmas Tree you both paused to catch your breath and assess the situation. Looking around you at the shattered window and Pike’s steely expression you felt a maelstrom of grief wash over you. Hugging yourself tightly you began to cry quietly as Pike’s face crumpled in empathy.

“Pink” he began, rushing to your side as you buried your face in his chest, your body quivering with emotion. “Sh…sh…it’s going to be okay. We’re going to get out of this. I’m going to get us out of this” he promised, swaying from side to side and stroking your hair gently. “I thought you told me excessive crying was off limits…for hydration sake” he managed to eek out, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“O-only g-gingers are a-allowed to c-cryyyy…” you began to wail helplessly, as Pike chuckled into the crown of your head. “W-we exc-cel at d-dramatic bursts of energy…” you hiccuped, feeling your body relax in Pike’s embrace.

“That’s perfect. That’s just what we need to get this electricity going again” Pike hummed, pulling back to lift your chin with two, frosted fingers. “Take a deep breath for me, please?” he encouraged, rubbing warming circles into your back soothingly.

“O-one, I can h-hear the sounds of the wind outside…” you started, taking in Pike’s puzzled expression. “F-five s-senses…” you sniffled as Pike nodded in affirmation. “T-two…I can…s-see our b-beautiful C-Christmas Treeeeeeeee…” at this a fresh bout of sobs threatened your precarious self-control as Pike hugged you tightly, heading back to the fireplace as your legs dangled against his body loosely.

“And what can you smell?” he offered, carefully setting you down on the pile of pillows and blankets and reaching for a water bottle beside you. 

“I c-can smell…” you paused, your face reddening slightly with the admission. “I can s-smell your…aftershave…and cologne…” you hiccuped again, biting back a small giggle of relief as Pike smiled humorously. 

“Water, please” he unscrewed the top, tilting it towards your mouth and coaxing you to drink some carefully. Heaving a heavy sigh of concern he let you drink your fill, and then brought the water bottle to his own lips intimately. You reached out to touch his face, drawing your fingers over the stubble of his chin, and upwards to caress the wisps of hair framing his features. You sat together, slowly lowering your foreheads to one another, your breaths punctuated in the cold by plumes of warmth. 

“What can you taste?” Pike finally rasped, eyes still closed in quiet contentment. Without thinking you feverishly pressed your lips to his, a new heat burgeoning in your core. You felt your lips melt into his, the sharp tingle of cold dissipating against the soft yearning of his kiss. His chiseled jaw worked against yours, parting your lips languidly for his tongue to enter. Merry fucking Christmas. This was the best blizzard you had ever endured. Lazy thoughts entered your mind for a millisecond before slowly drifting out as you enjoyed the warmth and affection of one another for what felt like hours. Breaking apart to catch your breath, you noticed a small bead of sweat condense at the corner of Pike’s forehead, reaching up to catch the single salty droplet you seductively brought it to your mouth, swallowing with intensity.

“And what can be touched?” you whispered, looking deeply into the swirling vortex of Pike’s sentimental eyes, which were slowly darkening in hue and desire. His Adam’s apple bobbed hungrily in his throat as he placed a hand across your sternum, feeling the thrumming flutter of your excited heart.

“I’m thinking of a way we can stay warm” he began, fingering the dangling zipper of your pink snowsuit.. “For survival?” he smiled self-deprecatingly, hoping this suggestion fell under the heading of Emergency Techniques 101.

You felt your cheeks blush under the steady lust of his gaze, lowering yourself down to the floor and beckoning him to lay beside you. “Have negotiations begun?” you grinned forlornly, wishing you found yourselves at a quiet, candle-lit dinner instead of fighting for your very lives.

“Does it help to say that I’ve been tested?” Pike blurted out, furrowing his brows in consternation. This was not his usual art of seduction, and he winced at the transactional directionality of the conversation.

“You watch your dirty mouth” you pouted, pinching Marcus at the stomach and enjoying his beleaguered expression.

“I’m sorry, I just want you to be comfortable…” he confessed, tilting his face to the side and watching your face for micro-expressions. “It seems to me body heat can be JUST that. It doesn’t have to be anything more…I think I can…control myself…” Pike admitted, biting his lower lip in supplication. This was a bizarre situation, to say the least.

“Well I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t…curious about the possibilities” you pondered. “It wasn’t a few hours ago I was flinging myself at you on the couch”. Pike grinned knowingly, teasing the zipper down an inch. “And in all honesty…I don’t kiss just ANYONE on the Art Squad”.

Pike nodded his head with feigned sobriety, lowering your zipper down to your navel, his pupils dilating with passion. “We’re not gonna do anything you don’t want…” his eyes shot up to yours questioningly, as you squinted back.

“Oh I want this” you cajoled, beginning to strip Pike of his winter jacket and pawing at the buttons on his sweater. You both raised yourself up on your knees, quickly peeling the layers back in the steadily dropping temperature of the cabin, and pausing to note the huffs of pluming passion contrasted in the night air.

“Are we doing this?” Pike questioned, unsure where to look or where to put his hands in this bizarre circumstance.

“I’m n-not…s-sure, but let’s do something before hypothermia sets in” your teeth chattered comically as a wave of shivers passed over your body.

Pike quickly pulled his sweater up and over his head revealing his honeyed and immediately prickling skin, as you brought your hands up to his broad shoulders. “What first?” he implored, desperation dotting his tone. You couldn’t be sure if it was the fire of passion or the frigidity of the cold, but either would do. Taking a millisecond to admire the warmth of his skin and his plush lower lip, you stalled in overwhelm.

“I don’t k-know I’ve never had sex in an apocalypse b-before!” you admitted self-deprecatingly. “Gawd, it’s been forever since I just had regular sex too!” you giggled, drawing your torso closer to his.

“This is maybe the worst seduction in human history, but I’m pretty sure we want to start with skin to skin contact…” Pike surmised, his eyes widening as he took in your curving frame. “C-can I…uh…touch you?”.

“I’m about to turn into a p-popsicle if you don’t!” you shuddered, smiling affectionately.

“Okay…here I come?” Pike questioned rapidly, lightly drawing his fingers around your waist and neck and drawing your body close to his, as tenderly as urgency would allow. You laughed in surprise as Pike’s tingling, cold fingers melted into your skin cautiously, immediately warming to the touch.

“C-cumming already? That was fast!” you joked, trying to quiet the small convulsions of your body soaking in the heat of Pike’s torso, accidentally knocking your hips against his awkwardly.

“I’m nothing if not enthusiastic” Pike disclosed, a crooked smile turning up the corners of this mouth. Pike started rubbing your back heatedly, attempting to draw more circulation, and you mirrored his pursuits. You rubbed up against his stubbled cheek, turning into his neck.

“You smell n-nice” you encouraged, moving your hands lower down to Pike’s waist and beginning to notice his semi-hard length bumping against your hip.

“Oh gawd, you smell amazing…” Pike moaned into your hair, trying to pace himself for whatever you preferred. “Is this better?” he asked, his movements slowing and broadening as the temperature began to increase incrementally.

“I think s-so?” you pondered, feeling your core warming with the sensation of human contact. It had been so long. You quite nearly forgot what it was like to enjoy someone’s body, or even your own, but you felt yourself starting to detach with the emotional over-stimulation. “C-can we just…maybe…hold each other for a while?” you winced, embarrassed at the seemingly infantile tone of voice, as Pike pulled back to look into your eyes and cup your face in his warming hands.

“We can do whatever you want…This moment is all about you…and any ‘us’ that you want”. The sincerity in Pike’s look was immediately disarming and grounding you to the moment, however bizarre it seemed. “Come here…” Pike pulled a blanket from beside you, up and over your heads, cocooning you in a soft tent. Wrapping your legs around his and intertwining as much as possible, Marcus drew his arms under the snowsuit against your bare back as you cradled your face into his neck. “We can just stay like this…” Pike suggested, trying to focus on the hardness of the cabin’s floor and not the burgeoning hardness of his length, as your lace covered, plush breasts were pressed against his chest. He took several stilling breaths as your bodies melted together softly, the warmth of your togetherness already exponentially expanding.

You attempted to mirror his breathing to quiet your own and soon found a contentedness in the humanity of the moment. The circumstances might have been odd, but the validity of your emotion was very real. You wanted this. You wanted him. And you wanted to survive. After a few minutes Pike’s voice cut through the silence, “Is this the part where I make a joke about how the cold might affect a hypothetical individual’s…um…girth?” his body tittered humorously, desperately trying to put you and himself at ease.

You shifted your head to admire his side profile and cinnamon skin, as your eyebrows shot up to your forehead. Reaching down, very carefully, your fingers ghosted over his hardening length, as it twitched under your grasp. You gulped loudly, suddenly concerned, “Uh, Pike…I haven’t done this in a while, but given our current circumstances, I’m not sure that’s the main challenge…” your eyes widened in comprehension. Pike buried his face into your chest, sighing heavily. 

“Oh boy…I really like the color pink…” he mumbled into your breasts, as you rolled your eyes jovially at the admission.

“Well that’s good, so long as I don’t start turning blue…” you smirked, delighted that Pike seemed as eager as you were.

“I mean…I don’t wanna get ahead of myself…I don’t even have any condoms…” Pike groaned with forced chastity, swallowing hard against your sternum as he peppered kisses up to your neck. Your body froze, with more than the cold, as Pike pulled back to appraise your reaction.

“I’m sorry, was that a ridiculous assumption on my part?” he questioned, looking into your eyes for clarity. You bit your lower lip awkwardly, desperate to confide in him, but hesitant to broach the topic at this juncture. “Hey…It’s just me. It’s just us…” he stopped all of his ministrations, his breath fanning across your face soothingly. God, his lips were gorgeous. You couldn’t hardly concentrate on anything else. The explosion, the storm, the carbon monoxide poisoning…and all you could think about were this man’s lips. 

“You won’t need a condom” your voice started to disappear, hoping you could convey the logistics of the moment, and still maintain the intimacy that teetered so precariously.

“Copy that” Pike tried to hide his disappointment, his eyes lowering to the ground respectfully and loosening his grasp with delicacy.

“No, no…I just mean…um…I had a…before the pandemic I needed…” you sighed with frustration and a modicum of defeat. “I had a hysterectomy” you pouted, embarrassed at the blunt revelation. Pike’s eyes registered a new softness as he tilted his head to look at your more closely.

“Are you…okay, now?” he sensitively probed. “Does that mean you don’t want to…?”

“OH I WANT” you clasped your hand over your mouth with chagrin as your cheeks reddened with self-consciousness. Pike chuckled, drawing his fingers up to your hand and taking it in his. 

“There’s that pink…” he brushed his finger against your cheek, beaming affectionately. “Do you…want to show me?” he asked quizzically, unsure of his footing, but determined to provide whatever support he could, amidst the peculiar circumstances.

“Yes please…” you whispered, taking his hand and drawing it down the front of your body. Pike’s breath froze in the moment as you drew his fingers between your breasts rapturously, down your abdomen and lowering them just above your pubic bone. “Feel that?…” you asked, dragging his fingers across the feather-link pinkened scar, watching Pike’s mouth drop open with yearning. A small whimper left his lips as you drew his fingers lower still towards your heat. “Feel this?…” you probed, moving his digits over the wet patch of your underwear, as Pike’s fingers twitched involuntarily, eliciting an intake of air from you both.

“Is that for me?” Pike groaned, lowering his head into your neck and cupping your groin with his palm.

“Ohhhhhh shit….” you sighed. “Based on your…bearing…I think it might be primarily for ME, so you don’t split me in half” silently wondering how worried you should be.

“I can go slow” Pike gulped, relatively certain he spoke the truth. His enthusiasm had always seemed his downfall, but this moment was all about you. Your body. Your pleasure. Your survival. Your hips bucked up into his hand as his fingers ghosted over your clit, the fabric of your underwear creating a delicious friction. 

“Oh gawd!” you squeaked, immediately self-conscious, but starting to focus on the burning hunger pulsing within you, and not the dire circumstances swirling outside.

“Oh God, good? Or oh God, bad?” Pike questioned, feathering his fingers over your heat in exploration.

“Ohhhhhhhh” you managed to get out before your eyelids fluttered closed in submission. Jesus Christ you should get snowed in more often. Oh. So much of the last four years felt like an emotional wasteland of desperation. Oh. All of it was crashing down with each healing pulse of Pike’s fingers. Oh. Over. And over. And over. Your mind was completely blank with pleasure, whitewashed as the pristine snow outside. Oh. Oh. Oh. You grabbed at whatever purchase you could find, the loop of his sweatpants, the heated forearm that slipped from your grasp…finally moving your hands upward to your own temples and dragging your fingers across your scalp. You thought you might shatter underneath the immediate intimacy of the moment, listening to Pike’s heavy breathing and trying to keep your eyes open in awareness.

“Honey, you’ve gotta talk to me, I’m flying blind here…” Pike pleaded, grinding his hips painfully into the side of yours and swallowing back his desperation. 

It was all so much. You hadn’t been with anyone in years, and the sensations were so heightened in this surreal landscape, you felt like your body was euphorically careening out of control. If this was how you entered immortality, you could definitely think of worse ways to go. But there was a smaller, indulgent part of you that somehow wanted more. You didn’t know how you could want more than eternity, but you wanted to enjoy him. This was about so much more than survival. You wanted to enjoy your own humanity, and somehow, it was all slipping away from you. You wanted to give yourself, mind, soul and personhood to the beautiful man wrapped pliantly around your quivering form, but how could you give something that was spiraling out of your own consciousness?

“Pleeeeease…” you whined, arching your back off the ground and into Pike’s undulating body.

“Please what, honey? Tell me what you need…” Pike groaned into your ear, splaying a hand across your back.

The devastating reality crashed around you and before you could think, you heard your own faltering voice utter the word, “Stop”. You were eons away from your own self, but desperate to stay fully present in Pike’s passionate grasp. Marcus froze, pulling his hand away and looking deeply into your countenance with a confused expression. 

“Stop? Did you say stop?” Pike whispered, drawing both hands up to your face and jolting you out of your disorienting reverie. With a gasp of stark realization, your eyes shot open in surprise, as you felt the unyielding support of the hard wooden floor beneath you. Every sense came rushing back in a myriad of confusing palettes. The cold, tingling ice hovering just outside your cozy cocoon. The heat of Pike’s breath, shuddering against your own. The sharp musk of your own arousal, buttering Pike’s fingers. And the salty release of your own tumult, bubbling to the surface in wracking sobs.

“I’m soooooorrry!” you wailed quietly, your mouth falling open in a silent cry, utilizing the entire force of your body to smash Marcus towards you abruptly. Gripping Pike aggressively with your legs you squeezed his torso towards you, pressing his hardened length into your hip, as he winced with sensitivity. You grabbed the back of his neck, digging your fingers into his hair and pulling tautly, feeling his entire body stiffen with confusion and slowly melt back into you with supplication.

“Wt’s h’ppng?” Pike mumbled awkwardly into your chest as your hiccups slowly morphed into clumsy laughter, shaking your head in disbelief. What were you doing? What kind of Hallmark movie special was this? You suddenly laughed out loud thinking of the incredulity of a National Geographic episode documenting this fumbling attempt at survival.

“Okay, we’re laughing, that’s good…I think? I feel like there are some…conflicting messages here…” Pike hesitantly started smiling with you, as his body relaxed fully into yours. “That wasn’t…” Pike squeezed himself out of your vice like grip just far enough to look into your face impishly. “Was that good for you?” he teased, contorting his face in a ridiculous expression.

‘Oh, my love!” you exclaimed, immediately clapping your hand over your mouth and dissolving into another fit of giggles. Pike’s face exploded into the light of a thousand stars with the possibility of your unheeded admission, collapsing his body weight back into you with relief and continued incredulity.

“I don’t understand what’s happening here, but I’m here for it” Pike confessed, shaking his head confusedly and stroking your hair with tenderness. “I seem to have a confusing affect on women…” he self-deprecatingly offered, struggling to understand the nuances of your unspoken reaction, and beginning to wipe the tears from your face.

“I’m…sorry…let me…see if I can explain” your laughter calmed down a bit as Pike patiently waited for your next move. In the interim, his gaze longingly drifted over your exposed form as he shut his eyes tightly, his body immediately reacting against you.

“Grandma Pike, Grandma Pike, Grandma Pike…” he started repeating, laughing to himself ashamedly, as you erupted into another fit of tittering. You both took a moment to breath, a thin sheen of perspiration already cooling against your goose-bumped skin.

“Why are you so amazing?” you finally asked, drawing your hands around his back and pressing your lips lightly to his. Humming into his mouth, you abandoned yourself to the contented sensations as your body regulated itself back to normalcy. After a few minutes, Pike paused to catch his breath, stretching out his arm for you to cradle your head against.

“Are we feeling warmer?” he sighed, turning his head towards you and smiling dopily.

“Oh yes, I’m definitely aglow with the Christmas spirit” you observed, turning a new idea around in your mind seductively. “Ummm…you know, turns out even during an apocalyptic blizzard, I seem to move slow as molasses”. 

Pike interrupted with an exhortation of support. “It’s really fine” he drawled “ You know, sometimes I still feel so adolescent. Having you here, in my arms. I’m the luckiest guy in the world…” he grinned, the dimples in his cheeks cutting a devastating profile in the cabin’s candlelight. You sighed contentedly in his embrace, wrapping yourself in the cozy safety of one another. Listening to the bickering winds outside, you thought you could almost hear the strong pulse of Pike’s heartbeat beside you. Grounding you. Magnetically pulling you. Centering you.

“What if you got lucky in more ways than one?” you asked, drawing a finger lazily across Pike’s honeyed chest. Marcus paused, unsure of your meaning. “What if we just did YOU, tonight?” you bluntly offered, a devilish grin beginning to grace the corners of your mouth. Pike seemed to stall in confusion, finally sitting bolt upright and taking the blanket’s warmth with him in a tent of surprise. “PIKE!” you shouted, grabbing at his blanketed form and beckoning him back to the soft chrysalis of your own body. Pike wrapped you up in a tight embrace as you both snickered together.

“I can’t do that, Pink” he chuckled bashfully. The lady always cums first” he cast his eyes downward shyly, but nodding definitively.

“But what if…I asked? What if that’s what I wanted?” you timidly bit your lower lip, unsure if your request would resonate with him at all. Pike swallowed hard, his eyes widening to large saucers as he inquisitively stroked the sides of your face. “It might take me a minute to figure out what I want, but when I do…” you let the statement hang in the air openly.

“We’ll go slow?” Pike finally rasped, drawing a forefinger across your lower lip tentatively.

“Mmmm…slow” you repeated, dragging your hands down the front of his body and reaching his hips.

“I don’t wanna hurt you” he moaned into your chest, desperately trying to slow the yearnings of his body, but being unsuccessful.

“I think you’ve primed me MORE than enough, Art Squad” you agreed, feeling the sticky arousal of your own passions. Pulling Pike’s face into both hands you gulped sardonically, “FOR SURVIVAL”.

Pike returned the smile, “FOR SURVIVAL”. Moving his hands between your tangled bodies, he felt the slick of your heat between his fingers, groaning softly to himself with appreciation. Shifting his body to meet yours he removed his length from his pants, pumping himself a few times with your arousal. “Ready?” he winced, steeling himself for the entry.

“Ready or not, here we cum?” you tried to joke, breathing deeply in anticipation. Pike’s eyes were trained on you fixedly as he notched himself at your entrance. Your mouth fell open in awareness as he inched himself into you, achingly slowly. A whine caught in his throat as he gave himself over to the nestled feeling of your core pulsing around him. You realized you were holding your breath and tried to relax in his embrace, as you opened your eyes, taking in the euphoric expression painted across his face. 

“Are you okay?” Pike hissed in through his mouth pointedly as you shifted your hips beneath him. Pausing in acceptance, you drew his shivering body towards you, erotically pulling your nails across his broad back.

“I’m here” you whispered into his ear, indulging in the connection of the moment, the world finally stilling around you. At peace. Calm. And alive. Oh so very alive.

“I’m not going to last long…” Pike gritted his teeth stubbornly, his brow furrowed in concentration one second, and relaxation the next.

“You’ve got me” you inhaled, the heat of your bodies sticking to one another with newfound perspiration, melting like two icicles in the warmth. Pike pulled out at least half way before slowly re-entering your body as tenderly as he could. You both moaned synergistically. 

“Again” you pleaded, drinking in the indulgent expression on Pike’s countenance. He repeated his movements, gaining a rhythm in pulsing clarity.

“More” you encouraged, feeling his biceps taut beneath your fingertips, salty sweat dotting his forehead. Focusing completely on his reactions, his groans of pleasure and the beauty of his body, you felt yourself swept away in intimacy. Here, together, at the end of the world. There was no place you would rather be.

“Oh…please…” Pike whined, his gyrations powerful and languid, starting to falter with the effort of restraint. “Where do you want me?” he managed to ask through bouts of delight.

“I want everything” you growled, your focus a pinpoint of realization, heightened awareness to the pout of his lips, the crinkle in the corners of his eyes. “In me. Inside” you grasped at a hidden assertion you’d never previously articulated. “Cum for me” you begged, grasping his backside with both of your hands and drawing his hips towards you further. 

Pike groaned loudly, finally giving in to the powerful urges, pulsing and stuttering within you as you fluttered around him. Feeling his entire body convulse against you was like a beam of light penetrating the darkness of the night. There was no storm. No cabin. No Pike. No you. Just Love. Enveloped in the warmth of love, you felt your heart blossom and expand within you. Love. Love. Love. It was a strange death of self, offering an almost immediate and illumined rebirth. Somehow, everything was going to be alright. You didn’t understand the details, and in this moment, you didn’t care. You were together, and that was all that mattered.

Pike finally stilled, collapsing his weight gently atop you as you gripped him with your knees. Drawing your fingers up and through his hair you felt his heartbeat pounding wildly against your chest, calmed by his deep breathing and smiling contentedly to yourself. Marcus moaned happily into your sternum, swallowing dryly as you wiped a small bead of sweat from the corner of his hairline.

He suddenly sat up, bleary eyed and swaying, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he gulped, blinking quickly and trying to focus on your dazed expression underneath the pile of blankets you were swathed beneath.

“Honey, if this is how you treat ALL the visitors at Pike’s Place, you’ve got a gold star establishment on your hands…” you teased, gripping his backside and squeezing tightly, feeling him twitch within you. Marcus hissed inward, eyelids half mast in euphoria, easing himself back atop you tenderly.

“On my hands and in my arms…” he mumbled, burying his face into your bosom and peppering feather-light kisses across your breasts affectionately. You chuckled with delight, listening to the swirling winds outside, and feeling PIke’s broad shoulders caging you in. Forming sweeping circles against his back, you relished in the incremental nuances of his relaxation, finally seeing his forehead devoid of worry and concern, as his breathing slowed to a steady, soothing rhythm. You kissed him tenderly at the crown of his head, surprised at how warm it had actually become. Survival 101 indeed. 

Fairly certain that Pike was drifting off to sleep, you didn’t want to move a muscle. Housed in the contented cocoon of your sweetly entangled bodies, within the eye of the storm, you felt as though your emotions, your very soul had expanded beyond the cozy confines of the moment. Feeling the juxtaposition of Pike’s relaxed body, anchoring you to the floor, you mirrored his deep breathing, grounding yourself in the beautiful intimacy that two individuals can experience together, for so much more than survival. Keeping your body perfectly still your eyes tried to take in Marcus’ profile, serenely placid amidst the outside, buffeting winds, protected securely against your supple form. In your tender embrace you promised to care for this man the way he had cared for you. Whatever the future held, the experience of Love was transformational, allowing for so much more than just humanity’s survival. It was infinite. It was eternal. And you somehow felt as though you sacredly held it, in the palm of your hand. 

Shaking your head slightly with chagrin, you watched Pike’s eyelids flutter in sleep, magnetically drawn into your own dreamscape. Silly thoughts for a silly girl, you mused. Talk about afterglow. And why not? In the place of a cheery hearth, the fire of your heart had ignited into a flame of more than just passion. You were basking in the very flame of Love; alight with the depth of Light itself.

You sighed contentedly with the re-discovery. It really is a wonderful life…

5-4-3-2-1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! The crowd was shouting euphorically around you as the familiar refrain of “Auld Lang Syne” played in the background, but you and Pike might as well have still been in the cozy cabin. Locked in one another’s embrace for the last hour on the dance floor, you couldn’t immediately pinpoint the difference between kissing and not kissing, the entire affair felt like a beautiful bubble of effervescence. You and Marcus kept swaying from side to side, looking deeply into one another’s eyes and not saying a word. You couldn’t believe how quickly the time had gone, here, in Washington D.C. With him. Seeing the massive building of the CIA Art Squad Division. Dropping into the Smithsonian every lunch break during your short visit to the East Coast. Ordering in Thai Food and watching old movies every evening, before making out or making love. It was like something from a Hallmark Movie, and it turned out, it wasn’t just limited to apocalyptic circumstances, or the cozy cocoon of Pike’s Place. It all felt like a dream, and a dream that was going to be ending far too soon.

“What are you thinking about” Pike mouthed, amidst the din of surrounding humanity.

“You” you whispered into his ear, feeling a slight shiver travel down his back and through his fingertips at your explorative touch. You kitten licked into his ear as he crumpled against you, burying his face in your shoulder and chuckling. You grasped him around the waist to help hide the burgeoning tent in his dress pants, though doubtful anyone would have paid it much mind. It was the start of a New Year, and the possibilities were endless. You felt a pang of regret, remembering the brevity of your stay, and wondering what the future might hold for the start of such a promising relationship. Couples were heading out to the balcony for a champagne toast, as the band started to wrap up the evening’s events, leaving you and Pike a bit more space on the dance floor.

“I know what I’m thinking about” Pike jested, drawing two fingers up to your chin and brushing a light kiss against your awaiting lips.

“Let me guess” you drawled, teasing your tongue at the underside of Pike’s top lip, as he happily obliged. “When Harry Met Sally” you joked, pulling back abruptly and touching your nose tenderly to his.

“How very dare you” Marcus smiled, pulling a strand of hair gently from your face and tucking it behind your ear. “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone” he began…

“…you want the rest of your life to start as SOON as possible” you finished, nibbling at his neck and enjoying the friction of his winter beard chaffing slightly at your reddened cheeks.

“Ohhh gawd…move in with me” Pike sighed, freezing slightly at the unbidden yearning in his tone, as you cocked your eyebrows sky high and ceased the characteristic couple’s sway.

“Excuuuse me?” you questioned, not entirely shocked at the enthusiastic show of romance, but immediately pondering the logistics of your answer. Pike winced with embarrassment, furrowing his brow in immediate consternation. 

Biting his lower lip he immediately back-pedaled, “God, I’ve done it again” Pike shook his head forlornly, stepping back from you about a foot, and bringing his hand awkwardly to the back of his neck, as you felt the immediate loss of his body contact. “PLEASE…forget I said anything. DUMB OLD MARCUS STRIKES AGAIN!” Pike wouldn’t even meet your eyes as he attempted to downplay the very sweet and courageous offer, given his past relationship. “Did I not learn ANYTHING from Lisbon?” his voice cracked a bit as you noticed a soft sheen tinge his eyes, as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…hang on Art Squad” you tiptoed forward, grasping him around the waist once again, as though approaching a wounded animal. Pike stood stiffly, his hand at his sides, but you felt an infinitesimal relaxation in his shoulders as you nuzzled up against his chest, attempting to avoid placing lipstick all over the starched armor. “I just need a second, you kind of surprised me…” you exhaled, casting a sideways glance to the couples and groups shuffling out of the dance hall with tittering laughter. “These last few days have been AMAZING…” you began, feeling Marcus pull against you with a large intake of air, and standing to his full height.

“Too soon. It was too soon. It was too much. I did it again…” he started rambling haphazardly as you clamped his lips shut with two fingers abruptly.

“Shut up” you rolled your eyes, attempting to diffuse, but inwardly oscillating between heightened sensitivity for Pike’s admission, and your own ebullience at the possibility. Could you permanently move to the East Coast? The pandemic had so isolated your friendships, adventures and possibilities, but were you finally looking into the silver lining? Almost ALL of your work was now remote. That’s the main reason you had unknowingly ventured to Pike’s Place to begin with. Was this a dream that could possibly come to fruition, not just in spite of your recent turmoil, but somehow BECAUSE of it? You thought back to your East Coast college days, and how much you had enjoyed the changing of seasons, the arts and culture…And pausing to look at the doe-eyed countenance of your boyfriend, whose mouth was still softly muffled by your small hand, you were looking at reason #1 for the next great adventure standing directly in front of you.

“Wht I MNT t sy wzzz…” Pike mumbled comedically into your hand as you started swaying from side to side in an acapella dance. Pike pouted dramatically, taking your hand away from his mouth and grasping it firmly in his own clasp.

“I love you” you whispered, as Pike halted completely in his tracks, grasping your face with both hands imploringly. “I. Love. You” you enunciated for effect, watching the pool of emotions swim in Pike’s longing eyes. 

“Pink?” Pike’s voice echoed from outside your mind, juxtaposed by his unmoving mouth. You hummed happily in your sleep, sighing sweetly, “I love you, Pike”. Your eyelids fluttered quickly as Marcus drew a finger across your forehead, moving his thumb sensually to your mouth. Squinting into the dull sunlight, you blinked at Pike’s near angelic expression, as his eyes crinkled with acknowledgement and enjoyment in the cabin’s atmosphere.

“Oh!” you laughed, rubbing your eyes tiredly and immediately marveling at Pike’s smooth skinned torso. “Good morning!” you yawned, gathering the blankets up around you and stretching like a cat in the noonday. “Have we survived the apocalypse?” you asked, one eye closed in beleaguered submission.

“I don’t think I ever saw those techniques highlighted in ‘Doctor Zhivago’, but National Geographic should really be consulting US for the future…” Pike sighed, licking his thumb and rubbing the sleep from the corner of your eye.

You gasped in surprise at the continued intimacy, crumpling shyly against his penetrative gaze. This didn’t feel like a one night stand, even if Pike had no where to escape to…Well, except Washington D.C. Shit. Your face immediately crinkled with pain, reflecting on your recent dream.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Pike stilled momentarily, wrapping a tentative hand around your waist. “I hate to remind you that we’re still stuck in the tundra, so you’re not gonna be able to escape me that easily…” he teased, pinching your lower lip between two fingers pensively. “Any regrets?” he winced, closing his hand in a fist quickly and holding his breath. “I know I always get ahead of myself, but you might have one of the BEST reasons on the planet for no strings attached. I….” Pike rubbed at the back of his neck with a moment’s hesitation before plowing forward. “Ah hell, who am I kidding? I’ve spent the last 30 minutes watching you sleep and trying to pick out puppy names if we got a golden retriever…” he admitted with embarrassment. “Geez, maybe it should be a Siberian Husky…” he chuckled, before you unabashedly wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling and peppering kisses all over his face.

“This is REALLY forward of you” Pike teased, closing his eyes in submission and smiling with delight. “Here at Pike’s Place, we generally don’t fraternize with the clientele…” he couldn’t finish the ridiculous statement as your lips were passionately placed against his, moving against his mouth with supplication. Marcus sighed into your mouth, pulling back to tuck those pesky strands of hair behind your ears once again. “Do you want your Christmas present now?” he whispered. You held back a squeal of delight, clapping your hands together quickly. 

“Yes please!” you begged, sitting up halfway and squinting at the unlit Christmas Tree and the lonely manilla envelope that had kept you both company all night. The cabin was still chilly, but you noticed the winds had significantly died down, the sun was shining brightly and the snowfall seemed to have at least paused. Perhaps you and Pike had rounded the corner of survival and were going to make it after all. Marcus pulled his nearby sweatpants on, shivering slightly without the warmth of your body pressed to him and tiptoed carefully to the tree, running back into your grabbing embrace, hugging the manila folder between the two of your bodies awkwardly. Already pouting at his more clothed form, you taunted, “Woooo! Take it off! Snowpacolypse be damned!"

Relishing the abrasive scratch of his developing beard against your neck, he tucked in further to the cloud of blankets and renewed warmth. “My life flashed before my eyes just now, I barely made it back to you…” he joked, licking a tickling trail up your neck before pausing retrospectively. “I’ve turned into George Bailey!” he brightened, taking in your beaming countenance. 

“Okay, Mr. Cinema, you’ve got your audience right where you want them. What is this clandestine gift you’ve planned, without the benefit of a Macy’s or Santa himself? I doubt he could get in through the chimney last night…” you smirked, nose to nose with your holiday benefactor.

“Eh, it’s nothing much…” he immediately back-pedaled, unsure of your reaction. “You know how much I’m always doodling in my notebook…and…well, it’s no Picasso. And thank heavens, because I’m not sure how much you know about art history…” he began rambling before you placed the folder tenderly over his mouth. “Pike?” his doe eyes peeked mischievously over the rim of the manilla. “Hmph” he mumbled against it. “Shut up”. “Hmph” he acquiesced with twinkling eyes. Unable to wait a moment longer you opened the manilla folder as a single sheet of paper fluttered between the space of your bodies. Breathing inward, you marveled at the instantaneous recognition. It was you. Pike had sketched a portrait…of you. Your fingers traveled delicately over the surface of the paper, marveling at the detail and the care that had been invested in the unexpected gift.

“You told me the best gift you ever received was a re-appreciation of…yourself. And I couldn’t agree more!” he shrugged, crinkling his nose with self-deprecation. “But next year I’ll get you a bracelet or something, if this isn’t…” you interrupted him again with a barrage of kisses, before chastising, “you are the most ridiculous man I have ever met in my life”. He smiled affectionately, pecking you on the lips, “I love you too, Pink”.

Before you had a moment to react, several things transpired at once. The cabin abruptly blazed to life in a surprising spike of energy as the heater hesitantly clicked back to life, and the television renewed its fuzzy depiction of Bedford Falls. You and Pike gawked at one another effervescently, and before shouting in exclamation, the phone rang.

The phone rang? 

You and Pike fumbled with the blankets, the folder and one another, jumping to your feet in a tangle of arms and legs, Marcus grabbing at his nearby sweater and you stuffing your legs haphazardly into the nearby snow suit. Giggling and chasing one another into the study, Pike nearly yanked the phone out of its socket, laughing uproariously, “Pike’s Place! We have no room at the inn right now, how may I direct your call?” he clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle more laughter at your incredulous expression, waiting for his report. 

“Absolutely” he agreed, nodding his head enthusiastically, “that sounds perfect. We’ll be waiting! Thanks again!” he hung up the phone peering at you enthusiastically.

“WELL?” you shouted gleefully, waiting for Pike’s explanation.

“Telemarketer” he pouted, blocking the onslaught of punches and tickles directed at his midriff. “Surrender! I surrender” he chuckled, grabbing you easily around the waist and pulling you into his frame. “That was the mechanic down the road” he mumbled into your ear, eliciting a tingling shiver down the length of your body. “He’s been calling everyone in the neighborhood now that the phone lines are back in operation. He just wanted to let us know the power is back on, and they’ve started making the rounds to check on everyone” Marcus ironically explained, turning you around in his grasp and kissing you on the nose. “Assuming the pipes have thawed, I’m thinking…pancakes?” he grinned broadly.

“Coffee” you whined, collapsing your hips against his and indulging in a tentative exploration of his morning…excitement. 

“Coming up m’lady” he mumbled into your mouth, dragging you into the kitchen for breakfast.

Everything started to happen so quickly at that point. Pike began making the morning pancakes as you tidied up the warming cabin. Placing your portrait on the hearth you beamed excitedly at the relit Christmas Tree, and smiled with acknowledgement as George Bailey once against learnt the true meaning of the holidays. You were desperately trying to balance the bubbling excitement of your new lease on life, the promising declarations of Pike earlier that morning and your own burgeoning feelings of optimism. But what if you were wrong? What if the intensity of the last few days was all an illusion, and you were destined to return to the loneliness of your previous life? There was only one way to find out, you finally decided, watching Pike dance around the kitchen casually, sporting his cooking apron that said, “Who needs a hug?”

“Is it hot in here, or is that just me?” Pike twirled with pancakes plated, flashing a dazzling smile to your incredulous laughter. 

“That’s definitely you, Art Squad, though it IS markedly warmer since…” your voice trailed off as flashes of the evening flickered in an unbidden montage across your mindscape. Your cheeks reddened with more than the newfound heat, as Pike deftly brought the pancakes and a cup of steaming joe to the table.

“M’lady” he gestured an extra flourish, dipping his thumb into his mouth as he caught a stray droplet of coffee, soon grabbing the defrosting syrup from the fridge. His kitchen waltz faltered for a millisecond as he flashed on the realization that you weren’t “his” at all. The intimacy of the night and intoxication of survival had only fueled his characteristic enthusiasm, but small cracks of reality were starting to dot the periphery of his thinking. You were both alive. You had survived the winter storm together, but had Pike unthinkingly placed both of you in another inescapable conundrum? There was nothing conventional or planned about the quick courtship of your emergency encounter, but the familiar stab of uncertainty cut at Pike like the butter knife he was retrieving from the utensils drawer. He painstakingly thought back to every word, every decision on the bumpy road of your mutual survival. You had fallen like a Christmas gift, into his very lap, but it all seemed too good to be true. Somehow, he had fucked up AGAIN. He had learned nothing from the relationship with Lisbon, and was once again planning a beautiful life with a woman who owed him absolutely nothing. The force of his own emotion was hanging like an anchor around his neck, but he couldn’t ask you to make still more sacrifices. You had already opened yourself up to him in so many tender and loving ways, he wasn’t going to entitle himself to something he could never deserve. He was heading to Washington D.C. and you were here in not-so-sunny California. Nothing had changed. An insurmountable stack of rationalities descended on Pike as he somberly sat down at the table, his mood noticeably dampened.

“Uh…here take the last of the syrup” he deflated, shoving it forward to your surprised expression as you noticed the tonal shift.

“Aw, what happened to Danny Kaye?” you pondered, “I thought I was gonna get a re-enactment of ‘White Christmas’ with my side of pancakes!” you chirped, buzzing tentatively with the excitement of the morning’s possibilities.

“Well, after last night, we don’t need any more snow to set the mood. That’s enough of a white Christmas for me…” Pike chuckled forlornly, clasping his hands defeatedly in his lap and pensively pursing his lips. He sighed with relief watching you practically inhale the fragrant beverage, your eyelids fluttering shut with enjoyment. 

“Gawd, I’m gonna miss Pike’s Place…” you moaned rapturously, still oblivious to Marcus’ inner monologue and digging in to your pancakes with a child-like voracity. With your eyes shut to the world and all its obligations, you had missed the flicker of pain that shot across Pike’s face, as he picked at his own breakfast, suddenly without appetite.

“I’m not sure why…” Marcus mumbled, atypically depressed and shoving the food around his plate with a pout. “All I ever do is…fail” the words fell from his lips unintentionally as your eyes shot open with incredulity.

“WHT?” you nearly yelled, with a mouthful of food threatening to spew in his face. “R U insne?” you chomped quickly, trying not to choke and finally taking in Pike’s hunched shoulders and crumpled expression. You swallowed carefully, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I’m sorry, did the hypothermia just set in retroactively, or am I hallucinating?” you joked, your forehead pinching upwards with disbelief. “Is there ANY scenario where I’m still alive WITHOUT Agent Pike?” you offered, still confused at his glaring lack of self-confidence. “I don’t wanna give you a big head or anything, but last night was…beneficial for many, many reasons…” you smirked, trying to get a read on Pike’s unknown meaning.

Enigmatically, your words seemed to have the unintentionally opposite effect, as Pike sank further still into dejection, his circumstantial oppression growing by the minute. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Under no circumstances could he return to the offices that Lisbon haunted, and his entire life had already been boxed and shipped to Washington D.C. He was more assured than ever of his professional passions, but how did that support you or the love that was starting to blossom in this epicenter of winter? How could he fix what he was accidentally breaking?

“I….” Pike’s voice cracked with the weighted heaviness of emotion. “I’m going to miss you too” he heaved a sigh of regret, casting a quick glance at the portrait displayed on the hearth. He couldn’t even take that with him, shaking his head helplessly. At least he could end this before breaking your heart as well.

“Don’t you want to know what your Christmas gift is?” you teased, until Pike pushed his uneaten plate harshly away.

“I need to end this now…” Pike bluntly stated, his face adopting a stoic, nearly unrecognizable mask of frigidity. 

“What, breakfast?” you stalled, your heart lurching forward unexpectedly, catapulted faster than your brain could rally.

“This. Us….I need to end…us…”. The tree leaning against the cabin creaked sinisterly, Pike’s confession dousing the entire cabin in an ethereal, emotional cold.

“What?” you whispered, not believing your ears. Marcus had JUST been talking about plans and puppies…and pancakes. What had transpired in the last few minutes unbeknownst to you? This was so unlike the romantic persona you had come to know and…love…you started laughing awkwardly in disbelief. “Okay, very funny, Art Squad…” you ignored the heavy-laden pounding creeping up the back of your neck as the blood rushed to your ears uncomfortably.

“I’m serious, Pink, I can’t fail you again. If I had lost you…” Pike pressed his lips together harshly, stifling a sob. “I can’t ask you to…I don’t deserve…” he started rambling almost incoherently to himself, rubbing at his forehead desperately. “If I can’t keep you safe here at Pike’s Place, you have no business being with me anywhere else…” he mumbled under his breath, no longer making eye contact, his knee jerking sporadically under the table with anxiety.

What was happening? You felt your stomach drop sickeningly in your stomach, willing yourself not to retch, as a tight ball formed in the back of your throat. This was it. This was the exact nightmare you had been dreading since you arrived at Pike’s Place, but with every incremental step into Marcus’ optimism you had timidly left the sparse, armored existence of the pandemic. The feelings of betrayal, the isolation, the helplessness had all begun to vanish, but you felt your renewed self-confidence and resolve start to dissipate like the melting snow.

“You don’t….want this?” you rasped, tears annoyingly brimming at the edges of your eyes. You didn’t dare move for fear every sorrow would come tumbling out of your mouth and heart with no censorship whatsoever. Pike dragged his eyes up to meet yours, his soul shattering into a thousand penetrative shards. 

What had he done? HOW was he always making the wrong decision, and hurting the people he cared about the most? He wanted to rush over to your side of the table and bury his face in your lap, begging forgiveness, but his hands held him decisively to his dining room chair.  He wanted so much more for you. It was time to stop thinking so selfishly and grow up. Christmas miracles were for Pike’s Place and Bedford Falls…but not for him. 

Your mouth was so dry, you weren’t sure you could articulate any sound but you managed to croak, “I need to hear you say it”, tumultuously wringing your hands together.

Pike looked at you incredulously as though you had just asked him to murder his best friend. Pausing heavily and taking a deep breath, he finally uttered “I…can’t…” clearing his throat painfully, “I…don’t…want this”, a crushing weight descended on his chest as though the cabin had collapsed on top of every hope and dream, suffocating the very life he had so desperately prayed for. 

You stood shakily, your hands wrapped protectively around your body in case it decided to shatter on the spot. “Thank you for breakfast. I’ll pack…” you mumbled, floating somewhere between searing disbelief and emotional disassociation. Pike stood, his hand extending towards you as you stumbled up the stairs amidst a flurry of sobs and sniffles. Unable to tear his gaze away from you, the door shut softly, leaving Pike alone in the living room as George Bailey’s countenance flickered cinematically at the bridge’s edge. Marcus collapsed at the bottom of the stairs, barring your exit, and hanging his head in both his hands despairingly. What had he done?

Walking into the upstairs bedroom for the last time, you looked around at your meager belongings, your entire stay at Pike’s Place a confusing barrage of unbidden images. Marcus’ swaying, tipsy form, rooting you to your own emotional indecision. His angelic appearance with a plate of pancakes. Your ridiculous pink snowsuit. 

Giving yourself the task of packing, you expected the tears to start flowing haphazardly, but nothing immediately came. Just memory after memory of Pike’s Place. Making snow angels in the front yard, eating far too many chocolate chip cookies, wriggling your toes against Pike’s warm body as you watched holiday movies together. What had gone wrong? The isolation of the pandemic had completely gaslighted your resource for human connection and intuition. But the time spent at Pike’s Place had begun to solidify who you were and what you wanted. Were you still so disconnected from society and self that you couldn’t see clearly into the future of your very own desires? You flashed on decorating the tree, intimate conversations and your hapless attempts at dinner that Pike had endlessly encouraged. Swallowing the lump of emotion threatening to overwhelm, you reached out in your mind to touch Marcus’ face tenderly. Just hours ago, his smile had been yours. His lips had been yours. His body had been yours. Was all of that an illusion of survival? You gripped your lips tightly together with a renewed resolve. 

Main. Character. Energy.

A clarity of realization started to descend on you as you laced up your snow boots definitively. You had the sneaking suspicion Marcus was holding back, hesitant to repeat any past mistakes with Lisbon, and ultimately trying to protect you in the shifting landscape of his transition to Washington D.C.. But none of that mattered, because you finally knew what you wanted. The pandemic had liberated your life in more ways than one, and you were ready to step into your own self-actualization and speak up. If Pike decided to remove his light from your life, that would be his choice, but it wasn’t going to happen without your protestations. You journey may have felt like helpless wandering, but maybe you were no longer as lost as you previously thought. For better or worse THIS Donna Reed wasn’t running away from George Bailey, she was running straight towards him. You just weren’t entirely sure if he would be waiting with arms outstretched, or determined to question his life choices, and unwilling to embrace the love that stood right before him.

Pike couldn’t stop pacing around the cabin, weighing his options. He felt as though his heart were going to come racing out of his chest, following you to whatever corners of the earth you decided to inhabit. He’d always been an impulsive person, but this felt like something very different. All of these moments spent together, and somehow he was still running out of time. The clocks in the cabin were all bizarrely wrong since the power outage, but his internal compass was finally starting to align. It just seemed as though the current moment were slipping through his fingers like melting snow. 

He hadn’t lied. He didn’t want this. More specifically…

He didn’t want…JUST…this.

He didn’t want to break your heart. He didn’t want to ask for more. He didn’t want to see you go, and he wanted so much more than just Pike’s Place. He wanted his very own “It’s a Wonderful Life”, and he wanted it all…WITH YOU. Nearly giddy from the rush of adrenaline and euphoria, this was more than simple affection or even primal survival. This was Love. He’d recognize it anywhere. He looked down at the delicate portrait of you, he held sacredly in his hands. 

He’d rush up the stairs and proclaim his undying love! 

Stupid Marcus, that’s how you ended up at Pike’s Place to begin with, he reasoned.

He’d lock you up in the cabin, until you changed your mind! Pike rolled his eyes sardonically. This wasn’t “Misery”.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Love wasn’t about captivity, entitlement, or possession. Love had everything to do with freedom. He took a deep breath, stilling his mind and heart in the process. He’d have to let you go. A lifetime of chasing, both professionally and personally, and his most important decision he ever made…was to finally surrender. And if Love came back to him, knocking on his doorstep once again…

Pike was jolted from his reverie by a knock at the door. He nearly dropped the portrait, startling, as he caught the skeptical face of the town’s mechanic peering at him from the repaired window. “Hell of a bang up job, Pike!” the mechanic’s muffled voice resonated. “Who’s car is that, down the road?”

Holding your suitcase valiantly in one hand, and your trusty crowbar in the other, you were determined to express your thoughts as quickly as possible before chickening out. You would just explain you feelings to Pike, blizzard be damned, and whatever his response, at least you had finally followed your heart. Yanking the door open courageously, you charged down the stairs with as much confidence as you could muster.

“Iheardeverywordthatyousaidanditdoesnotmatteroneiota.IknowthewayIfeelaboutyouandafterlastnightIthinkIknowhowyoufeelaboutmeyouarejustafraidtotrustyourselforanyoneelsebutyoudeserveeverythingPike.Youdeserveloveandsacrificeandromanceandme!AndbeforeyousayanotherwordIamgoingtogiveyouyourChristmaspresent…”

Reaching the bottom of the stairs you were met by an unexpected sight, as Pike stood despondently, your portrait cradled tenderly in his hands. Standing next to him was a complete stranger, clad in head to toe winter wear, awkwardly grasping his hat between his oil stained hands.

“Well hey there, little lady, you must be the passenger Pike was just telling me about…” he began, extending a greasy hand toward you and taking the suitcase from your surprised grasp.“The cavalry is here! We’ll just tow you back to town lickety split and have you on your way before you can say ‘Jingle Bell Rock’. Pike was just telling me about your travel troubles. He hasn’t been giving you any problems, has he?” the mechanic joked, elbowing Pike in the side.

Marcus looked completely dejected as he hugged the portrait to his chest, a wan smile  of defeat pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Pretty sure you saved my life, Pink” he mumbled, willing you to somehow telepathically understand his meaning before you exited his life permanently.

You opened your mouth several times to start speaking, but nothing materialized in the oddity of the moment. This wasn’t part of the plan. You couldn’t bare your soul to Pike with…a crowbar.

“Don’t think you’ll be needing that anymore” the mechanic questioningly deprived you of the tool, tucking it under his arm securely. “Already got the Hyundai jacked up to the tow. Let’s get you back to town before that blizzard kicks up again, missy” he tried to encourage, accidentally bumping Pike’s shoulder on the way to the door. Lugging your possessions heftily he flung the door open to the steely ice of winter, yelling back at Marcus on the exit, “Hell of a bang up job, Pike. Didn’t think city folk had any business being in the country. Glad to see you didn’t get the little lady killed!” he joked, hiking the snowy length of a football field to the awaiting tow truck. Watching him recede in the distance, Pike swallowed hard, hesitantly reaching out with quivering hands.

“Merry Christmas” his voice cracked, as the portrait fluttered helplessly in the wind. “Thanks for coming to Pike’s Place” he nearly whispered, blinking back the tears, unable to meet your eyes directly.

A wash of emotion overwhelmed, as you bypassed his outstretched hand and flung yourself into his embrace. Pike stood stoically fixed in place, ensuring he didn’t grasp you tightly and never let go. He closed his eyes painfully, breathing in your soft fragrance and melting slightly into your desperate hold.

“I’ll never forget you, Pike” you cried quietly, grabbing his cheeks and kissing him passionately on the mouth. You felt his stance falter in the winter wind, as he kissed you back fervently. Breaking the kiss quickly, you cut a quick path to the doorway, not looking back, and closing the door behind you.

Bracing yourself against the icy tundra you hefted one heavy step after another, listening to the crunch of snow beneath your booted feet. Your tears began to chill against the steely wind, punctuated by the rhythm of your begrudging dirge. Just keep walking. One step after another. Don’t think. Don’t feel. Don’t act. Pike is better off without you, and some things are just too good to be true. The words bit at your heels, spurring you onward, as your heart twisted within your chest. Peering down the road you saw Bessie the Hyundai hitched up to the tow and the mechanic piling your belongings into the back of his truck. You stopped dead in your tracks, casting a longing glance back at the cabin. It no longer had the telltale, cheery plume of smoke drifting from the tree-covered chimney. It wasn’t the Normal Rockwell painting you remembered from a week earlier, but it held so much more poignancy and meaning than any flat landscape. Now small and lonely, silhouetted against the pristine winter backdrop, it was a receding memory of love and companionship highlighted against the harsh challenges of reality. A true home. Pike had been your safe haven. Your port in a storm. And here you were, running away from it.

“Well, what are you waiting for, little lady?!” the mechanic’s voice cut through the increasing winds, as he sat in the coach of his awaiting truck.

What WERE you waiting for?

Marcus stood alone in the warming living room, decidedly colder since your exit. Still holding the portrait in his shaking hands, he didn’t dare look at your smiling face in this moment. He gulped back the tears, numbly sitting on the couch and looking at the stilled fireplace. The Christmas Tree seemed to wink from the corner as he stared at the flickering television. Watching George Bailey run through the streets of Bedford Falls, he couldn’t take anymore. Reaching for the remote he defiantly shut off the Christmas flick, peering down at the floor where your passionate bodies had previously been locked in a survival embrace, now empty and solitary, showcased by the wintry sunshine. 

Finally hazarding a peek at the precious portrait in his hands, a single tear fell onto the notepaper, blurring his eyes and clarifying his longing. Another tear. Another tear. He set the page delicately on the couch beside him and finally let the emotion wash over him. Covering his face with his hands, his entire chest throbbed with a pulsing yearning that seemed to encapsulate life itself. You were gone. And he was the one who had let you go.

He tried to think ahead to his new life in Washington D.C, but every imagined location was peppered with images of you; touring the new CIA offices, visiting the Smithsonian, walking down the cherry blossom lined streets, and being in love. Being together.  Being with you. His heart lurched violently in his chest as he blearily smiled at the home made ornaments dotting the relit Christmas Tree. 

Pike’s Place had been an escape from the reality of all of his insecurity, all of his loss and all of his self doubt. Your unexpected emergence had jolted him from the isolation of his solitude and reminded him of the true meaning of Christmas. Giving. The gift of your presence and your love had not only saved his very life, but had given him a new hope for the future. A hope for the possibility of love. Not one that was based in flippant enthusiasm, but a grounding passion of intimacy and togetherness. Looking down at your sketched likeness, he plaintively smiled to himself, tracing his fingers over the contours of your freckled face. It didn’t make any sense, but somehow he knew his love had finally manifested itself in the best way he knew how; Love was in the gift. And in the surrendering of love with the hopeful promise of its someday return.

Marcus sniffled slightly, twisting his head as he heard the soft knocking at the door. He wasn’t looking forward to another awkward conversation with the mechanic, particularly through tear stained snuffles, but perhaps you had forgotten something. Hefting himself heavily off the couch and hugging the portrait to his chest he begrudgingly trudged to the door, opening it to find…you.

A vision in pink, not only from the ubiquitous, and ever-present snowsuit but from the glowing crimson of your frost-bitten cheeks and the rose-hued rim of your equally tear stained face. Seeing your figure standing before him was like an immediate breath of fresh air, counterpointed by the frosty breeze and sterling hope of possibility.

“Pink! I….I missed you…” he chuckled self-deprecatingly, not even attempting to hide the portrait cradled in his shuddering hands. With quivering lips he confusedly asked, “Did you…forget something?”

You hiccuped shakily, your smile broadening into a Cheshire-like grin. “I never gave you my Christmas present” you offered, shifting your weight from side to side in the cold. Pike stood dumbly in the doorway, his heart a pounding throb of bewilderment.

“M-my…Christmas present?” he mumbled, gazing at your face meticulously, as though memorizing it freckle for freckle.

“I…I don’t want to go back to my life in California” you finally breathed a sigh of relief with the admission you’d been preparing for the last 24 hours. Pike’s breath halted in his throat with tentative disbelief. “Something about my life stopped with the pandemic. The hysterectomy, the isolation, the disconnect…it was all tied to….me! Somehow I lost…ME. Wandering through the desolation of the last four years has finally brought me home. Home to myself. Home to my dreams. And home….to you Marcus. I want my home to be…with you”. The unyielding realization of your time at Pike’s Place came tumbling forward in a stream of passion as Pike’s eyes widened to the shape of saucers. “I want to move to Washington D.C…with YOU. If you’ll have me?” you finally offered, throwing up your hands in placation. Maybe you were being impulsive. Maybe you were being emotional. Maybe you were being characteristically “Pike” you observed internally, giggling with abandon. But you were finally stepping into your heart’s desire, as the main character, and it felt fucking amazing. “Merry Christmas?” you smirked, shrugging your shoulders and awaiting Pike’s response.

A momentary hesitation ensued as Pike remained frozen in the doorframe, gripping the portrait in a vice like embrace, his mouth parted slightly in surprise. As though watching a snowman melt on the spot, a beam of light began to flicker in Pike’s distant gaze, springing into a broad smile that enfolded his entire being. The portrait fluttered noiselessly to the ground, escaping his outstretched hands as he reached for you longingly.

“Merry Christmas!” he exclaimed, gripping you firmly around the waist and gently pulling you towards him.

“We can take it slow…” you began, until your lips were buried with his, tasting the salty sweetness of your shared tears and smiling mouths. A million thoughts cascaded through your mind considering your new life of possibilities, but only one thing really mattered. You were finally home. Home to yourself. Home to love. And home…with Pike.

“Merry Christmas, Pink” Pike mumbled into your mouth, laughing and crying with relief. Love had returned to him, on the very doorstep of Pike’s Place. And you were both reaching for it, with arms outstretched, never letting it go again.

*thanks @unknown-till for the cool dividers!

Pike's Place; Love Actually

I fell hard for these two, but it wasn't until @burntheedges "Roll-a-Trope Challenge" that I managed to really sink my teeth into this delectable winter treat. Since y'all love them as much as I do, I've started a slow burn Winter Series with the assist of @inept-the-magnificent!

Triggers: profanity, talking lots of talking, a little smut, emergency situation/survival...

Series Masterlist

The firelight danced across Pike’s smiling face as he mischievously hid behind his third cup of hot chocolate, listening to you with delight. “And THEN, I opened the final gift and she had found it. She had found the entire original set that included the author’s notes!” Your face beamed enthusiastically, flush from the nostalgic excitement of another Christmas story.

“I never thought I’d meet someone who loves the holidays as much as I do” Pike stared in wonderment, gently kicking you with a socked foot.

“I mean, as a kid you don’t recognize the nuances at all. All you see is chocolate and games and…MORE GIFTS!” you laughed maniacally, plunging your fingers into Pike’s soft stomach and tickling him viciously as he struggled to grasp you around the waist in protestation without spilling his nearly finished hot chocolate.

“Watch out little girl, I’ve got you right where I want you” Pike laughed through gritted teeth, clamping your body between his knees and setting the cup down on the nearby coffee table.

“Is that so?”you drolled, slowing your tickle attack and gently moving your fingers up his chest and into his hair. Pike swayed his body from side to side, holding you tightly as your lips brushed against his serenely. “Merry Christmas” you mumbled into his mouth, kitten licking for more access as he willingly obliged.

A low moan escaped him as you felt him harden beneath you with longing. “You’re the gift that keeps on giving” he nestled into your neck, kissing at your sternum and jawline slowly. You smiled with happiness running your fingers back down his body and stuffing them into his sweatpants’ pockets. “What do we have here?” you questioned curiously, letting your fingers gently explore over the fabric, finding bristling hair and his hardening length. You paused mischievously, “Christmas ornaments?” dipping your hands lower still as Pike’s eyelids fluttered contentedly.

“Is this the part where I make joke about your Christmas box?” Pike whined, keening beneath you and tilting his hips up to meet you. You shifted your body to the side, pulling his sweat pants down slightly and massaging him languidly. “Only if I get to make a joke about your yuletide log…” you giggled, watching Pike’s face with delight. He bit his lower lip with yearning as you entangled your feet with his.

Pike twitched with surprise, furrowing his brow in consternation. “Okay, Abominable Snowgal…where are your Christmas slippers, your toes are FREEZING” he joked, gripping your chin between his icy fingers. You blushed with embarrassment looking down at your legs which were now bare and bristling with goose bumps. Pulling your nightgown down to cover them, it disappeared, leaving you totally naked atop Pike’s body and shivering violently. A blast of cold air whispered against Pike’s hair, washing over you both like a steely wave of winter as the cabin immediately flickered and darkened bizarrely.

“Can you hear me?” Pike’s voice echoed as he now lay atop you, image blearily coalescing before your eyes. A pounding headache jolted you from your cozy dreamscape as you felt the comparative hardness of the cabin floor beneath you. Your mouth was so dry, no words were forming, just a low moan vibrating in your chest as Pike sighed with relief. You closed your eyes for a moment attempting to return to the cheery warmth of your dream, but Pike protested.

“No, no, no, stay with me” Pike gripped your chin between his icy fingers and rubbed his palm in hard circles against your snow suited sternum. With slight annoyance you blinked rapidly, trying to follow his directions. The dull headache returned with blinding force, clarifying you back into a blurry existence as you wriggled your fingers aside your body. Your lips were numb as you tried to swallow and bring Pike’s concerned countenance into focus. Turning your head to the side the fire was no longer a cheery comfort as it whimpered unceremoniously in a blue haze, the final dregs of smoke curling into small wisps.

“Can you sit up? I’d like to get some water in you…” Pike gently advised, gripping the back of your neck and coaxing you into a sitting position as the room rotated around you.You shut your eyes fixedly as a wave of nausea passed over you, willing the cabin to stop moving like a boat atop the ocean. “Open up” Pike brought a water bottle lightly to your lips as you hungrily sipped, cool water dripping down the front of your chin messily. “Slow, slow…” Pike encouraged, massaging the back of your neck and eventually setting the water down beside you both. You opened one eye hesitantly as the cabin solidified into reality, a cornucopia of images vying for attention. You took a shaky breath, observing the myriad of blankets and pillows piled around you like a fort, shivering slightly in the cooling temperature and immediately noticing the rather large tree limb cascading through the living room window.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Pike joked, bringing both hands to the sides of your face and rubbing small circles into your cheeks. Smiling dolefully you acquainted yourself with your new cataclysmic surroundings.

“What happened?” you rasped, swaying slightly and closing your eyes with the effort.

“Well, how far back do we need to go?” Pike closed his eyes tiredly, finally taking a resolute breath in suspended relief. “My name is Agent Pike and I work for the Art Squad…” he countered as your eyes shot open with incredulity.

“Marcus…” you whined, gripping the hair at the top of his head and pulling his forehead to yours. “Jesus Christ…”

Pike’s body sagged against yours with exhaustion, smiling with reassurance. “What, is He in the room with us now? Apropos for Christmas, but don’t go towards the light…” Pike’s voice cracked a little as he attempted to lighten the tension of the last twelve hours.

“What’s going on? I think I missed a few steps. Are you okay? Are WE okay?” you winced, attempting to shake the burgeoning pulsation between your temples and trying to will your body into cooperation.

“Well, after you collapsed I want to Macy’s and got our Christmas gifts, Santa dropped by. Rudolf is a total diva…”

You tugged at Pike’s hair, pulling his face back to meet his gaze. “Agent Pike, if it weren’t for this splitting headache, you would be the main pain in my ass” you breathed heavily, cooling temperatures nursing you back to consciousness. “Talk to me. Are you okay?” you implored bringing your hand to cup the side of Pike’s face.

Pike stilled silently, tears springing to his eyes as he swallowed hard. “You really scared me” he sniffled, averting his eyes and gesturing to the tree limb punctuating the living room. “This didn’t help…” he shifted with discomfort, attempting to quell the many emotions he was holding at bay. You took a moment to admire his handiwork, as a large blanket had been stuffed through the protrusion, and haphazardly layered with gray duct tape. It was a marked benefit, but without the fire the temperature seemed to be plummeting by the minute.

“How long was I out?” you blinked, doing a quick body check and noticing the pitch black void outside, dotted by peppery clumps of snowfall.

“God, it felt like forever…” Pike laid down next to you, gazing up at the ceiling. “Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes?” He closed his eyes breathing deeply and rubbing his hand over his forehead confusedly. He paused in the overwhelming silence as you took stock of your current circumstances. While you were unconscious Pike had lit several emergency candles that flickered lightheartedly in the otherwise dark cabin. A small amount of wind tickled the flames as your eyes flicked to the nearby wall heater that was chugging and sputtering weakly. You saw several bottles of water and emergency rations piled by the now defunct fire place. Did the winter winds knock out the fire so abruptly? Your mind was still moving at half speed as the headache dulled into the background, but a growing awareness was permeating your discovery. There must have been more to your apparent intoxication and disorientation. The headaches, the nausea, the vertigo…What could have disrupted both of you to such an extent? Your breath caught abruptly in your throat. You clamped your hand over your mouth, looking down at Pike’s resting figure.

“PIKE?” you nearly shouted into his face as his eyes blazed open with surprise.

“Yes?!” Pike sat up suddenly, grasping his chest nervously. “Are you cold? Hungry? What do you need?” he started piling blankets on top of you and breathing heavily.

“Sorry, I just…monoxide poisoning? Right? That’s why the fire is out? Did you pass out too?”

Pike huffed dramatically, nodding his head and grimacing with soreness. “It was touch and go there for a minute” he draped his arm over your legs trying to catch his breath. “I couldn’t figure out what the problem was until Mother Willow snapped me back into reality” he gestured again to the forlorn looking foyer. “I think that actually might have saved our lives. There must be more limbs or branches covering the chimney and neither of us noticed. If that blast of fresh air hadn’t disrupted our evening, I’m not sure either one of us would be here right now.”

You paused with the sober realization that things were worsening. Though the fire wasn’t available the wall heater was limping along, but not for long. If you had learned anything from your outside venture it was that Bessie the Hyundai was about to be joined by…Genny the Generator in the land of defunct machines. It’s a wonder it had lasted THIS long. Pike must be trying to get as much bang for his buck before the situation derailed completely. You swallowed dryly reflecting on your previous isolation. You would most assuredly be dead if not for this man sitting before you. You bit your lip with thanks, poised to articulate your gratitude when Pike interrupted, his face crumpling in defeat.

“This is totally my fault…” he chastised, laying back down and staring up at the ceiling numbly.

“Hey, hey…that doesn’t sound like Agent Pike from the Art Squad” you bantered, your fingertips drifting over his stomach, and resting assuredly on his chest. He took your hand in his as his lower lip wobbled insecurely.

“If I’m not careful I’m gonna get us both killed AND ruin Christmas…I’m not sure which is worse” he jested, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Look at me, Agent Pike” you drew your fingertips lightly over his cheeks, drawing his face towards yours. “Marcus…” you whispered, wiping a single tear that was trickling, unbidden down his scratchy cheek, “You saved us. You saved me…” you leaned down to kiss him lightly on the lips which apparently did him in. He covered his eyes with the back of his forearm, shaking slightly and finally starting to decompress.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for YOU” you began peppering kisses over his face haphazardly and resting your hands on his chest for support. “This (kiss) is (kiss) not (kiss) your (kiss) fault…” you drew back studying his features appraisingly as he pursed his lips tightly in response.

“I’m so sorry” he apologized, turning his body slightly away from you with embarrassment and hugging his arms around his abdomen tightly. You laid down, your chest to his back, drawing a blanket up and over your both and wrapping your arms over his.

“I think, this is a very lovely, if not unconventional winter picnic you’ve planned for us” you rested your forehead against his back, breathing in his deodorant and hints of aftershave. “The candlelight is an especially nice touch…” you teased, hearing small sniffles vibrating through his chest. “It’s very important that we don’t dehydrate so crying is…only permitted for…gingers in pink snowsuits” Pike shifted with awkwardness, chuckling slightly at your feeble attempts. “Besides, I should be the one crying if this knight in shining armor is leaving for Washington D.C”. The room somehow became even more quiet as you wondered if your jest had overstepped. You didn’t want a repeat of last night’s debacle, but if you were going to meet the Grim Reaper, it was time to lay all your cards on the table. You felt Pike’s body collapse inward in defeat as he slowly turned to face you.

“I don’t know what to say” he began, nearly nose to nose with you under the blankets, breathing softly. “At this point an apology feels so inadequate, I just…didn’t think I…I didn’t think it mattered…” he finally ventured, placing his hand lightly to the side of your neck and feeling the feathering pulse underneath. You nodded your head with understanding, attempting to process the unexpected events leading you to this very moment. There was nothing about this Christmas that had been planned. If you knew anything, you knew Pike was a good man, and there wasn’t a deceitful bone in his body. Maybe the situation with his ex had so derailed his optimism and self-confidence that he couldn’t easily see the opportunities stretching out before him; including you.

“What really happened with you and…Lisbon?” you whispered, wanting desperately to understand how anyone could choose a life that didn’t involve Marcus. Pike sighed heavily, thinking back with nostalgia and hurt to the road not traveled.

“Lisbon was…IS…an amazing woman. We met on the job and formed a quick connection when the job in Washington D.C materialized. I knew it was the right professional step for me, but I…my enthusiasm just overreached. I tried to make us into something we weren’t. She was already deeply invested in…someone else, and we just needed time to realize the difference between a fantasy and a reality.” He swallowed hard, moving his thumb to the notch at your sternum, his eyes fixed on yours hesitantly. “I wanted too much, too soon and it all blew up in my face…” he stated matter-a-factly, as a light breeze ghosted over you both.

You shivered slightly whether from cold or emotion, but thankful for Pike’s immediate transparency. Relationships were so complicated, and it often seemed like a person’s greatest strengths somehow could misalign into their greatest weaknesses. “It was too big an ask, for me to deserve” he rationalized, turning his eyes downward and resting his head on the floor in acquiescence.

You tilted your head to the side in curiosity. Well, that wasn’t true, you mused, furrowing your brow in consternation. No wonder you hadn’t immediately arrived on the same page, and your own silence had complicated the situation. Not one to make the same mistake twice you decided to meet Pike’s transparency with your own. “I don’t think Love can be measured like that” you started, attempting to proceed sensitively. “It’s unconventional, hard to grab hold of…and impossible to predict. But, I mean…if anyone DESERVES it, it’s you, Pike. You deserve love, actually.”

Pike held his breath with anticipation, considering your meaning thoughtfully. He knew the truth of your words, but how could he believe them for himself? Just because you desperately want something doesn’t bring it to fruition. He WANTED to believe this whole nightmare had a happy ending, but how many times could one heart be broken? He held your gaze intently, willing you to feel the intensity of his desire. Somehow he was going to get you both out of this nightmare and try to find the answer to that question.

“I don’t think anyone would argue that we’ve had more than enough reality this holiday season” you forlornly admitted, gripping his hands tightly in yours, and attempting to warm them. The heater sputtered timidly in the corner, hiccuping quietly, on its last legs. “I never thought my life would become so isolated and alone” you pondered, reflecting back on the last few years. “My life felt vibrant and connected and exciting until the pandemic crashed into me and everyone around me. It was then that I realized that people couldn’t prioritize friendships in a world where family was just fighting to survive. It’s not that they didn’t care…people just couldn’t extend themselves further than distance would allow” you reasoned. “And rather than taking the risk to keep reaching out, I just receded further and further in”.

“And that’s how you found yourself on my lucky doorstep” Pike chided, his eyelids drooping slightly with exhaustion. “In pink” he chuckled, closing his eyes for just a second. So tired. He relished the tension leaving his body as he sunk down into the blankets contentedly. It was ridiculous, given the circumstances, but he hadn’t felt this safe in a while. He really felt seen. Like you understood who he was and what he was about. The trip to Washington D.C was everything he wanted, but how could he just leave, knowing that you remained? Would he even get the chance to enjoy the adventure of life, with you at his side? And what if things continued to spiral out of control? Spiral. Why was the room moving in a circle? He sighed sleepily, being lulled into submission. Spinning, spinning, spinning…

“PIKE!” your voice jarred him out of his temporary reverie, as he shook his head, blinking rapidly. “You still with me?” you were rubbing his face aggressively, inches from his lips, a look of concern dotting your expression.

“I’m here” he mumbled tiredly, sitting up precariously on one elbow and clearing his throat with determination. “Not going anywhere” he yawned, chuckling to himself. “One good thing about being snowed-in is that you can’t escape me that easily” he teased leaning over to grab a sip of water and trying to engage his emergency training. “Gotta stay awake” he sighed, sitting up against the hearth shakily and motioning for you to join him. You gathered up more blankets and propped yourself up next to him, nestling into his side for warmth. “This is the survival component of our celebration, when our holiday heroes reminisce on the true meaning of Christmas”. The heater coughed dramatically as Pike pouted in opposition. “How do you suppose Christmas will be in Washington D.C?’ he wondered, trying to shift his focus to the future, rather than the current dire circumstances. “What if we were there right now, instead of here. What would be doing?” he pondered, trying to coerce you both into a proactive, optimistic mindset.

“Well, no ice skating” you chattered next to him, laying your head down slightly on his shoulder. “I’m a complete klutz, as you know, and would only be cajoled into winter activities if hot chocolate is included” you chuckled as Pike nodded into your head.

“Obviously” he smiled, looking over at the Christmas Tree which somehow cheerily smiled back.

“I went to school on the East Coast, you know?” you offered “Hence the pink snowsuit for this bumbling California girl…” you giggled tentatively, reflecting on the many adventurous seasons of your life. “Made it to Washington D.C a few times; you’re gonna love it there” you encouraged.

“Why?’ Pike stifled a yawn, attempting to focus on the flickering candlelight dancing before him. “What could D.C possibly have that WE don’t at Pike’s Place?” he grinned ruefully, hearing the winds pick up slightly outside the whistling window pane.

“It’s true, Pike’s Place has excellent coffee, pancakes….and the STAFF” you rested your chin atop Pike’s shoulder gazing at his profile. “Sooooooo cute. I’m thinking of giving the manager my number” Pike gripped you tightly around the waist smiling to himself. “But D.C is pretty cool too. The food is amazing, and the history around every corner…”. You stopped to lock eyes with Pike conspiratorially.

“THE SMITHSONIAN!” you both intoned playfully, pulling the blankets around you a bit tighter.

“Oh my gosh we’ll LIVE there” you agreed dreamily. “I mean, YOU’LL live there, Art Squad” your eyes drifted down to the small manilla folder propped happily against the unknowing Christmas Tree. “What did you get me for Christmas?” you elbowed Pike in the side jovially as Marcus laughed to himself clandestinely.

“You’re just gonna have to wait for Christmas morning” Pike protested, shaking his head emphatically.

“If we make it that far” you whispered, gripping Pike more fervently as the wind howled menacingly above you. Pike gulped back his anxiety, determined to provide a stolid demeanor.

“What else would we do in D.C?” he blinked lazily, setting his head atop yours in an attempt to ground himself to the moment.

“Let’s see…We would tour the capital”…

“Check” he agreed.

“Enjoying the cherry blossoms by spring and the farmer’s markets by summer”…

“Check” he concurred.

“I’m partial to Thai Food so you’d need to bring that home at least once a week…”

“But how will I enjoy your…unconventional cooking?” he joked as you scoffed in mock offense.

“Because I’ll be sending you to work with the most indulgent peanut butter and jelly sandwiches anyone has ever tasted” you promised, linking your fingers with his and shivering in the cooling cabin. For one terrifying moment the heater completely stilled, its exhausted fans clicking slowly to a silence as the blizzard batted against the punctured windowpane. Pike held his breath momentarily as the heater shook hesitantly back to life, pumping a few steady breaths of warmth over your tingling bodies.

The cabin was silent as you and Pike held one another tentatively.

“What do you think is the meaning of life?” Pike whispered, closing his eyes and burying himself in the shampooed vanilla fragrances of your hair.

You chuckled in bittersweet acknowledgement, shrugging your shoulders with curiosity. “Is hypothermia starting to set in, Agent Pike?” you halfheartedly questioned, acknowledging the looming possibility in the recesses of your mind.

Marcus beamed, thankful to be battling the given circumstances, whilst still enjoying your acerbic sense of humor. “We’re not quite there yet…” he mused, wriggling his toes determinedly and reflecting on the many art pieces he had admired over the years. “I just…love what I do…I love appreciating beauty and art, and humanity. Sorry I’m getting all existential on you…”.

“Apocalyptic blizzards will do that, you know?” you pulled back slightly, gazing intently into his eyes pointedly. “What do YOU think the meaning of life is?” you felt yourself melting into the moment, fixated on the beautiful features of his face, the candlelight beginning to blur everything around you in a hypnotic haze.

“I don’t know” he stated lowly, licking his lips dryly and admiring the cinnamon freckles dotting the bridge of your nose…and perhaps elsewhere. “None of the artists I work to protect are even alive anymore. But their beauty…” he paused to touch your face delicately, watching your eyelids flutter shut. “…their beauty lives on and on. The things we love. The purpose we give ourselves…Some of it kind of goes on forever and ever, I think. So I guess it’s…love. The meaning of life is love, actually”…

And then you were kissing. You couldn’t immediately place when you had begun, but much like Pike’s existential pondering, it seemed to have an element of infinity to it. No beginning and no end. Just breath after breath of one another, in a cyclical loop of forever. A comforting, nurturing, beautiful rose of infinitude. Maybe even, of love.

You enjoyed one another for quite some time, unaware of the heater flickering in and out of existence, as you found other means to warm yourselves by the now extinguished fireplace. Finally pausing to catch your breath, Pike pulled you into his arms, lowering you both to the floor, cushioned by the pillows and blankets surrounding you. “This is a Christmas I will never forget” Pike reflected, somewhere between a laugh and a whimper, watching your head rise and fall atop his chest with his breath.

“It’s definitely one for the books” you grinned, wrapping your fingers around his firmly, a new batch of tears threatening to spill forward. “Since we are setting up our last will and testaments, I just want you to know how much the last week has meant to me, Marcus”.

Pike hummed contentedly, his hold on you relaxing ever so slightly.

“I was determined to keep a cold exterior, but even a blizzard couldn’t keep my heart frozen forever. You’ve shown me nothing but kindness and warmth through this whole adventure, and I couldn’t be more grateful to you…for everything” you admitted.

“That’s the magic of Pike’s Place” he slurred, breathing steadily as his head lolled against yours.

“When we get out of this nightmare, you should really think about starting a Bed and Breakfast. Your pancakes are to DIE for, though something about your fireplace leaves something to be desired…” you paused, anticipating Pike’s retort, but nothing arrived.

“Pike?”

You gazed down at Pike’s hand which felt heavy in yours. Shifting your body quickly you looked up at Marcus’ face which had gone slack, his mouth slightly ajar, but chest still moving steadily.

“PIKE?!!” you yelled into the abyss, but his arms dropped loosely from your grasp to the floor with a dull thud. You snapped to attention, gaping around the room wildly for inspiration. “Don’t do this to me, Agent! Don’t leave me alone on Christmas Eve!” you yelled, willing a miracle to occur. You straddled his waist awkwardly, pounding on his chest animalistically as the tears began to flow freely. “Don’t you dare!” you cried through gritted teeth, rubbing your hands aggressively over his arms and neck helplessly, unsure of what to do next. The heater seemed to give one final exhausted cough of existence before grinding to a halt as Pike’s breaths similarly shallowed. “I just found you! I just found you!” you whimpered, gripping him tightly between your thighs and hugging your body to him with desperation. You grabbed the nearby water bottle slopping a few tentative drops across his face as he stirred once again. More. You needed more. Flinging yourself towards the door you crawled army style over the blankets and around the flickering candlelight for the last desperate option you could think of. Hauling yourself to your feet you flung the door open to in an icy barrage of wind and snow, which all but blew out the remaining candles. Nearly tripping over the doorstep you gathered a handful of ice and stumbled back into the freezing cabin hovering just a moment over Pike’s unconscious frame with indecision. More. You needed more. Adrenaline.

Wincing slightly in anticipatory empathy you smashed the powdery ice alongside Marcus’ now pallid countenance, sliding your fingers down the sides of his neck and shoulders, plunging him into a snowy alarm. Pike’s eyes flew open in surprised distress, grabbing at your hands solidly and sitting up abruptly. Biting back a cry of shock, he breathed in the cold night air which whipped cinematically through your hair, stinging your cheeks, but bringing Pike back to life and back to reality. “I’m awake! I’m awake!” he mumbled, blearily grasping at your tear stained face and looking around the darkened room haphazardly. The temperature immediately plummeted as the heater shrank into stolid stone and a vacuum of cold drenched the cabin in clarifying oxygen and steely darkness. You may have averted the immediate disaster, but had just literally opened the door on the next impending crisis. “How long was I out?” Pike shouted over the howling winds as you sat atop him crying and shivering.

“M-maybe a minute? T-two m-minutes?” you shouted back as your teeth chattered together violently.

“God, it’s a breath of fresh air!” he grinned, but immediately sobering to the new circumstances. “I’ve gotta keep you warm! If the carbon monoxide didn’t kill us, the cold will!” he observed, lifting you up by your elbows and holding you tightly. “At least nothing else can go wrong at this point!” he exclaimed, until it did.

A deafening boom shattered the relative stillness and a flash of light exploded into the atmosphere, rattling the nearby windows and sending a fresh cascade of wind and snow into the icy cabin. Whether from shock or impact your body splayed over Marcus’ figure as the vibrational blast flattened you against him suddenly. Shaking with cold and anxiety, you held one another for a time, until Marcus pulled back to look into your surprised face. “You okay, Pink?” he apparently shouted, though it seemed to be slightly muffled in the chaos.

“I think so!” you retorted, feeling equally dulled. Rolling to the side you did a quick body scan of one another as Pike pulled you to your feet shakily, heading towards the open doorway. Squinting into the snow flurry the woodshed burned brightly, silhouetted against the night sky. You flashed on the theatrical snapshot of “Gone With the Wind” as Pike draped his arm around your waist, magnetically pulled towards the residual heat.

“Well, there goes the generator” Pike’s now alert expression flickered ominously against the backdrop of billowing smoke and flickering flames. “I’d be thankful for the warmth if it didn’t promise to extinguish so quickly” he surmised, already bracing against the frigid winds.

You both stood in the doorway, thankful to be with one another, but desperate to be anywhere else, as it seemed Christmas, and your very survival was immediately going up in flames. “What do we do now?” you questioned, looking into Pike’s determined face and hoping upon hopes he would manage to offer yet another solution.

“I don’t know” he acquiesced. “We’re just gonna have to find some other way of keeping warm”.

*thanks @unknown-till for the cool dividers!

Pike's Place A Christmas Confection

It's time for a Christmas Confection y'all! Inspired by @auteurdelabre and their VHS Club, I'm hoping they will add "Pike's Place" to their rental collection. A big thank you to @dornish-queen for the superb "Mentalist" footage. Please enjoy these Christmas Confections until then. I got a peak at Pike's Journal during the Holiday Festivities...

Pike's Playlist

I love combining reality with fantasy, and while I'm sure this isn't a new Tumblr concept, I'm going to be cataloguing our Pedro Boys as per Pedge's suggestions! All playlists will attempt to utilize music or groups that Pedro Pascal has referenced at some point. Get your headphones and enjoy!

Triggers: music may involve profanity and adult topics, short description of character's interactions with music, smut

Pike's Playlist (Spotify)

*Pike, who follows the same routine at almost every job location; make friends with the locals, tour museums, find local Thai Restaurant and listen to jazz music before his evening movie. *The only other music besides jazz that Pike appreciates is movie soundtracks. He adores the soundtrack from “Casablanca”, as well as Thomas Newman’s compositions for “Little Women” *Pike prefers to observe his favorite museum pieces in silence, but since that is so difficult to come by, he can often be found with his old iPod headphones, listening to jazz music and admiring the local artistic scene *Pike is a pretty regimented guy, so he will often go for a morning jog while listening to his favorite playlist.  *Marcus Pike LOVES taking his time in the bedroom and has prepared many playlists for just such an occasion. He loves the poetry and romance of the moment and can ALWAYS be relied upon to make you morning pancakes afterwards. *After the divorce, Pike is a little more armored up, but once you get to know him, he’s a pretty big teddy bear. One of the first things he likes to do with new relationships is to make a mixed tape, and then spend the first dates talking about his selections and how they relate to you. *Pike will often pause movies or soundtracks to tell you the backstory about filming or production. You used to find that with other people who were condescending, but Marcus is always so excited and forthcoming, you find it endearing. *When Pike is in the kitchen, he is always humming to himself and dancing playfully to the jazz pieces he enjoys the most. You try to sneak up on him on occasion, but he always senses your presence, and tries to pull you in for a slow dance…without burning the pancakes. *Once a month Pike insists on taking you to the opera, the ballet or the outdoor cinema in Washington D.C. He claims its to “keep abreast of local culture and artistic trends” but it mostly seems like an excuse to take you to a fancy dinner.

*thanks @steadycameraroll-graphics for the cool dividers!

Pike's Place Nightmare Before Christmas

Thanks to @burntheedges "Roll-a-Trope Challenge" this dynamic duo is going strong till Christmas Day. I've started a slow burn Winter Series with the assist of @inept-the-magnificent!

Triggers: fainting, nightmares, argument, profanity, reference to alcohol, gun use, emergency scenario, panic attack

Series Masterlist

“What are you doing?!” Pike implored, jumping up from the couch and nearly falling over the coffee table in the process.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you pleaded, wrapping yourself more tightly in an attempt to disappear into the floorboards.

“I know we’ve grown closer over the last few days…but you can’t just…How much Merlot did you have?” he questioned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stumbling slightly in the darkened room. Ella Fitzgerald weirdly kept repeating "I’m not yours, for better or for worse" as the record skipped jovially…

“ImsosorryIwasjusttryingtogetupthecouragetosaysomethingandyoulookedosadorablesleepingIcoulndttellifyouhadfeelingsformeandIvebeensoalonethelastfewyearsIthoughtwereallyhadaconnectionandIwouldneverwanttodoanythingthatmadeyouuncomfortableIveneverbeensoembarassedImsosorry!”

Pike was breathing heavily, running his fingers through his hair, trying to grasp the situation and looking wildly around the room as Ella warbled repetitively from the phonograph.

“What is it you want?” he questioned, pausing as all the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. “Have you been playing me this whole time?”

Your eyes widened to pleading saucers, holding your hands out in supplication, “Marcus, let me explain…”.

“It’s Agent Pike” his eyes darkened slightly as the room became somehow hot and cold simultaneously. This can’t be happening, you thought as a chill ran through your body unexpectedly. This was your worst nightmare becoming a reality. You had finally circumvented your isolation and fear and taken a real risk and it had blown up in your face. Four years of working from home, becoming more and more distant from friends and family, therapy, a pandemic…You looked over at the nearly finished bottle of Merlot. Geez, did you have a drinking problem now, too? Shaking your head to clear the cobwebs you felt the creeping tendrils of a small headache form at the base of your skull. How had everything gone so wrong in a matter of minutes? And what did Marc…what did Agent Pike say about Washington D.C? Your thoughts were flashing wildly across your mind scape but not making any sense. You weren’t drunk, so why was everything so confusing? You looked up at Pike pacing nervously back and forth as the television sent bizarre flickering images across his face and body.

Share for share, share alike You get struck each time I strike You for me- me for me- I'll give you plenty of nothing I'm not yours for better but for worse And I've learned to give the well-known witches' curse I've a terrible tongue, a temper for two And everything I've got belongs to you, you, you, you, you, you, you….

Your breath hitched in your chest as Ella outlandishly skipped over and over again, adding a horrible paranoia to an already uncomfortable moment.

“For heaven sakes!” Pike huffed, yanking the needle off the phonograph and eliciting a bone chilling scratching sound in the speakers. He picked up the record and smashed it across the hearth. The fire crackled ironically, as Pike looked at you as though seeing for the first time. “I think you should leave” he muttered, lowering his eyes to the ground uncomfortably and almost backing into the formerly cheery Christmas Tree behind him. “Now. I need you to leave now.”

“What?” you whispered, gulping with anxiety and beginning to consider the ramifications of his statement. What time was it? Maybe 2am in the morning? You hugged your body to your chest fearfully, balking with incredulity. Pike might not reciprocate your feelings, but he couldn’t possibly be serious. It was officially Christmas Eve, where were you supposed to go in a blizzard? Could you stay in your car till the storm subsided? Maybe you could just promise to stay in the upstairs bedroom till the mechanic arrived…or sleep in the wood shed? A lump immediately formed in your throat as tears sprang to your eyes. This is what you get for believing in yourself, you chided. Pike told you to be the hero of your own story, and now you were going to be more alone than ever.

“Get out. Now!” Pike shouted, grabbing the manilla envelope from under the tree and throwing it in the fire.

“No!” you shuddered, reaching for the envelope helplessly, praying you could somehow salvage the turn of events. You watched the unknown gift crumple into flames, feeling as though your heart were somehow mangled in the smoke. Coughing and sputtering, you stood to your feet, swaying slightly with confusion, feeling an oppressive weight bearing down on you.

“Marcus, I never meant to…” you doubled over in weakness as the room spun around you overwhelmingly.

“Agent! Pike!” he exclaimed, picking up the Christmas Tree and shoveling it into the roaring fireplace. The room was getting hotter and hotter as you fell to the floor gasping for air. The entire cabin was going up in flames. You felt like Ebenezer Scrooge, clawing at your own mortality as Marcus started laughing maniacally…

“Get out of my house!” he cackled, his eyes alight with revenge and terror, seemingly basking in your cries for help.

“Please, please…” you heard yourself crying until…

You sat bolt upright in bed, awakening to the sound of your own voice. Blinking rapidly in the nearly pitch black room you heard the howling wind outdoors. You were covered in sweat and had a pounding headache. Damn Merlot, you reprimanded yourself as the reality of the evening’s events cascaded, unbidden, into your foggy dream-like state. If only THAT had also been a nightmare, but no such miracle occurred. You swallowed a fresh cascade of sobs, desperately wishing you had kept your desires to yourself. But no, you were determined to escape the never-ending isolation of the pandemic, and somehow ended up more alone than ever. Tomorrow, you were leaving, heading into an unknown future. Worse still, you might have lost a real friend in Pike, but what did it matter? Pike was moving to Washington D.C and you had just ruined the only opportunity that had graced your doorstep in a very long time. This was oh so very real. A real nightmare come to life. Your very own “Nightmare Before Christmas”…

Pike stared unblinkingly at the flickering images on the television screen. Perpetually hounded by nightmares for the last several days, he annoyingly found himself unable to sleep, replaying the evening over and over in his mind. He rubbed his forehead placatingly, trying to make sense of the recent complexities. Once again he had repeated the same enthusiastic mistakes, falling head over heels for an idyllic misrepresentation of the truth, and now he’d broken someone else’s heart in the process. He looked towards your upstairs doorway, cold and closed to the harsh winds battling outside. Were you okay? Were you asleep? Were you as unsettled as he was? How could he fix what had been so easily broken? One moment, he held you in his arms, caressing the very gift he had so desperately desired from day one. And the next, you were flying up the stairs in retreat, planning to permanently leave his life before Christmas had even come to fruition.

How had things gone so drastically wrong? First you were strangers. Then, you were circumstantial friends. He didn’t want to treat you like a captive audience. During all those conversations, all those movies, and all those glasses of Merlot, he didn’t want to ruin things the way he had with Lisbon. Even allowing himself to believe that love would find its way to him had felt impossible, so why even mention it? Why mention the move to Washington D.C when that information had only caused harm in the past? Why believe that love had shown up on his doorstep when that door was just going to lead to another dead end?

Pike watched the television as Jack Skellington battled between the two paradigms of Halloween and Christmas, trying to move into a holiday of celebration and joy, whilst somehow taking his own limitations with him. Cynically smirking at the ghoulish figures parading before him, he twitched once again hearing the howling blizzard which had only intensified over the last few hours. The once picturesque landscape had begun to turn, trees clawing loudly at the roof, wind arguing fiercely for dominance. At first a small glimmer of hope had begun to light in his heart. Perhaps he could stall your departure and make an explanation, but what was there to explain? He had come back to tie up loose ends with Lisbon, and after closing that door, had shipped his few belongings to D.C and determined to end the year in solitude. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine the holidays would include…you.

And how had he accepted this newfound sense of acceptance and unexpected opportunity? By hiding valuable information and then giving in to his desires without considering the ramifications. He hoisted himself up to grab some more fuel for the fire. The least he could do as a good host was keep his guest warm and try to get you home in one piece before Christmas Day.

The front doorknob rattled ever so slightly as a particularly large gust of wind shook the cabin dauntingly. Pike silently took stock of the resources and reserves that he knew remained in the cabin. Living on the East Coast had given him some inclinations of a real winter, but this was extreme, especially for California. The pipes could freeze, power lines could go down. He was just wondering if he should check the landline in the study, when he caught the telltale overture of trouble. The television started flickering hesitantly along with the lights, until the very mechanism of life itself seemed to grind to a halt, all electricity evaporating into the ether and plunging Pike into immediate darkness. Things just went from bad to worse.

You clutched your chest, hearing the dull thud of your racing heartbeat as blood rushed through your ears. What was that? Somehow the room was even darker than before and you could no longer hear the twinkling sound of the television from the living room. What was going on? You pulled off Pike’s flannel pajamas, nimbly feeling your way to the ubiquitous pink snowsuit.

You hadn’t even waited for an explanation. After the embarrassment of throwing yourself at Pike in a Merlot infused bid for love, his Washington D.C confessional had been the ultimate bruise. For that matter, WHY didn’t Pike mention the Washington D.C move earlier? You bit your lower lip, searching haphazardly for your boots. You’d spent the last few hours tossing and turning over your own missteps, but it takes two to tango. Was he really so oblivious as to think that was an unimportant detail? You found your initial irritation beginning to blaze in the recesses of your regret and guilt. You knew that Pike was too good to be true, but somehow his own contagious enthusiasm had dulled the impenetrability of your emotional armor. You had started believing that love was possible. You hurriedly zipped up the snowsuit, considering your options. You didn’t want to impose on Agent Pike anymore than you had to. Maybe this was a sign to try to bring your old broken down Hyundai to life. Much like you, maybe Bessie still had some kick in her and had just stalled. Pausing to listen a dull thrumming sound clicked into gear and the cabin seemed to pulse with a timid heartbeat once again. You glanced at your dimly lit cell phone by the bedside table. Stuffing your feet into your snow boots you checked the phone’s reception. Dead.

Everything felt like it was disintegrating. You thanked your lucky stars you were with Marc…Agent Marc…Agent Pike, but what if your subconscious was right? Pike would never place you in any harm, but it was clear you had worn out your welcome. You were both going your separate ways, and that was that. Maybe we don’t know each other very well at all, you paused, wondering how you were going to extricate your Californian self from this Snowpocalypse of 2024. You felt like Sally from “The Nightmare Before Christmas”, pining after a love that was never going to come to fruition. Maybe you WERE that wilting version of Donna Reed in a snood, trapped in a reality that never seemed to mirror the deepest of your desires. It was time to face the music and bring this Hallmark Movie to an anticlimactic conclusion. Just another Christmas alone. You took a deep breath, resolving to exit Marcus’ life as quickly as you had entered it. Roll credits.

Pike was rummaging around the supply closet for a flashlight upon hearing the telltale squeak of the upstairs bedroom’s opening door. You squinted as the light hit your gaze unceremoniously, covering your eyes confusedly. “What’s going on?” you slurred a bit, stumbling down the first few steps. Pike lurched forward with a hand outstretched.

“God, be careful!” he raced up the stairs, taking hold of your elbow and easing you down the stairwell. You ended up at the bottom of the stairs, more confused than ever. Were you still drunk? The television twinkled softly amidst the glowing firelight, but the room felt disorienting at best. You rubbed your eyes sleepily, attempting to form some cohesive, dawning thoughts.

“I’m okay, just waking up…” you blinked rapidly, jumping at the scratching sounds above your head and across the nearby windows. “What was that?” you asked in hushed tones, adrenaline pumping through your system like a shot.

“The storm has really picked up since…you went to bed” he cautioned, drawing his arm around your back to steady you. “I think we’re okay, but those trees are a bit closer to the cabin than I’d like. Annnnnd…I think the power lines are down” he trailed off, hoping to keep you relatively calm and safe. “The generator kicked in, but it hasn’t been in use all year. I don’t feel great about our…situation” Pike pondered, always the man of preparation.

Your eyes widened in concern, wondering how long you could last if the storm continued to intensify. “Can we call for help? I don’t have any reception. What should we do next?”.

“I tried the landline in the study, nothing is getting through yet. I’m gonna head out for a bit and check the generator to see its condition” Pike reached for his jacket, but kept his hand around your waist in solidarity. You reached towards him imploringly, freezing slightly at the unexpected revelation.

“Is that a gun?” you whispered, suddenly quivering with more than the cold. You heard the soft smile in Pike’s voice, viewing his flickering countenance in the relative dark.

“I suppose being an agent on the Art Squad isn’t that dangerous, but it IS standard issue. Just taking extra precautions, there could be wildlife that were disturbed by the storm, or other stranded motorists. I’ve got to keep you safe. I mean, keep everybody safe…” he was rubbing your back in circles as you swayed from side to side. You were feeling overwhelmed, off-kilter, and vulnerable. What kind of assistance could you possibly be in a challenging situation like this? You swallowed dryly, attempting to focus on the firelight and form a cohesive thought.

“Wait, what? Heading outside? Now?!” you began to panic slightly, grabbing at Pike’s forearm. “I don’t want to be by myself! What if we can’t contact anyone? What if you get lost in the blizzard?” your mind began to race with possibility as you felt your throat tightening with emotion. Not alone. Not again. The pandemic came racing back with all of its isolation and feelings of helplessness. Pike paused, considering the options.

“Okay, just stay behind me and don’t let go of my hand, alright?” he grasped your shoulder good-naturedly, drawing his hand up to cup your face and finding a few stray tears. “Hey, what’s this?” he drew you into his body for a close embrace, allowing you to sniffle into his chest timidly. “We’re okay” he swayed with you from side to side, rubbing your back and holding you at the neck comfortingly.

“I’m just…so sorry…for earlier” you mumbled into his chest, feeling your fatigue catching up with you. Pike pulled back, his intentionality apparent even in the void like expanse of these challenging circumstances. The fire flickered dimly in the corner adding a serene warmth to the soft smile on his face. He sighed heavily, wiping his thumb in a circular motion across your cheek tenderly. “There’s…more to say” he began, until more limbs and twigs were crashing and scraping across the nearby windows. “At this rate, I’m not sure any of us are going to be leaving tomorrow” he gulped, taking your hand in his and heading towards the door. “This Christmas is turning into a nightmare, but I’m getting us to the finish line come hell or high water” he promised, flinging the door open and bracing you both against the moderate winds.

The blast of cold air nearly knocked you over in one fell swoop, as you gripped Pike’s hand with determination. It was as though you had been plunged into a full body ice bath, as the tingling, numbing sensation of the winds whipped through your hair and very being. You had a sudden clarity of purpose and renewed energy. Squinting into the snowy winds, you blearily identified the small wood shed about fifty feet away. The wind had cleared the snow a bit, but stray detritus and tree limbs were strewn around the tundra as Pike pulled you forward ambitiously.

“Let’s go!” he shouted over the din of the intense winds, cutting a path to the woodshed, in search of the enclosed generator. “Be careful!” he advised, gripping you tightly around the waist, attempting to shield you from the blizzard which was steadily increasing by the minute. You pursed your lips doggedly, determined to be of assistance. Looking behind you, you saw Bessie the Hyundai, shivering in the cold, her front windshield had been cracked and indented by a falling tree limb. Somehow seeing her forlorn condition, increased your own, as the two of you hobbled to the nearby woodshed, desperate for a solution. Stumbling to the doorway, Pike flung the door of the woodshed open as billows of smoke came cascading out. You fell backwards in surprise, a hard blanket of snow somewhat cushioning your fall as Pike grasped at your arm securely. “Well, that’s not good!” he shouted, motioning you to stay seated as he waved the billows of smoke helplessly. “No way this is gonna last much longer!” he yelled over the din of blistering maelstrom. “I know it hasn’t been used for ages, but I was at least hoping…” a skittering sound interrupted his query as he reached for his gun quickly.

“Jesus Christ” Pike muttered, dragging you backwards and positioning you along the outside corner of the woodshed. “Stay here” he cautioned before you had a chance to argue. You saw Pike’s athletic silhouette poised on the adjacent corner, gun outstretched protectively. He disappeared from sight as you held your breath hesitantly. The winds were like a steely hand, gripping your insides and swirling with a wintery menace. You sat tentatively, bracing yourself against the wooden fixture.

“Pike?” you called, steadily becoming more and more terrified as the moments lapsed. One. Two. Three…you thought back on your therapeutic training. Take stock of your five senses. What do you see? All I can see is snow. I can’t even see my hand in front of my face, you thought. Four. Five. What do you smell? Coughing slightly, the arid bite of billowy smoke tickled your nasal passages. Six. Seven. What do you feel? I feel scared dammit, you retorted, crying out again. “Pike?”

Only the winds answered you.

What can you touch? You clasped your hands together for warmth, pining after the handhold you’d sacrificed with Pike’s temporary absence. You blew into your cupped hands for warmth. Eight. Nine.…What can you…?

“Holy hell!” Pike yelled as you heard a furious wrestling sound and then a gunshot echo in the howling winds.

“PIKE!!!!????” you screamed, covering your face in fear and tucking your body, wrapping your arms around your knees. Oh my God. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t see anything. You couldn’t feel anything. You were numb. You were nothing. You were completely alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. You rocked back and forth trying to catch your breath. “Pike. Pike. Pike. Pike” you whispered against the howling winds. You couldn’t form a thought, the world was swirling around you confusedly. You weren’t even human. A cry began to mangle at the epicenter of your sternum, radiating into your body as you sobbed hysterically. “Pike. Pike. Pike. Pike”.

Strong arms grasped you at the shoulders, shaking you ever so slightly as your head whipped up to see Marcus’ face pressed close to yours in concern. His lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear anything. You found yourself strangely disassociated, marveling at the pink in his cheeks and the snowflakes dotting his beautiful eyelashes. Not alone. Together. Pike. You and Pike. You smiled numbly, your head lolling back with exhaustion. Pike was shouting into your face, and you were smiling. Just smiling. What a nice Christmas, you thought bizarrely as Pike pulled you to your feet. You immediately collapsed into his arms as the world circled around in a vortex of cold and ice. What a nice Marcus, you thought haphazardly, feeling yourself caged against his broad chest and floating back towards the cabin. You began to hear the crunch of the snow underneath his feet, and the beating of his heart wildly against his chest. Such a pretty Christmas, you sighed, nuzzling into him for warmth and hearing the door slam behind you both abruptly. Pike laid you down on the couch as you watched him with bleary cheer, tossing more firewood into the hearth and returning to you in one quick motion.

Pike ran his hands fixedly over your entire body, looking for any injuries or wounds, as you grinned dopily, your senses quickly rushing back in arousal.

“Can you sit up?” Pike spoke, as though from another room, as your hearing started to focus on the low tones of his concerned voice.

“What?” you slurred, sitting up hesitantly and swaying with the effort. Pike ran his fingers over your scalp and down your arms, attempting to assess the situation. “Keep breathing, I’m gonna get you some water” Pike placed his hand over your sternum concernedly, quickly disappearing into the kitchen. Your thoughts were still blurry as you wondered at the magical fire crackling before you. At least one thing was aiding your survival, you mused, chewing your bottom lip numbly and placing your head between your legs weakly. You tried to take deep, centering breaths. What was going on?

“Damn!” you heard the shuddering of the pipes from the kitchen and Pike’s muted tones as he returned quickly to the living room, kneeling in front of you. “The pipes are frozen, I think” Pike complained, rubbing his hands over your arms and legs and bringing your gaze up to meet his. “Are you okay? How do you feel?” Pike swallowed dryly, looking intently into your eyes. Without thinking you flung yourself into Pike’s embrace, suddenly cognizant enough to grasp the recent chain of events. He gripped you firmly in a bear hug, swaying you gently from side to side. “Thought I lost you there for a second” he chuckled, rubbing your back warmly.

“Goddamit, Marcus!” you mumbled, pushing against his chest aggressively and falling back to the couch with exhaustion. Pike placed his hands on your knees, furrowing his brow with concern.

“I’m fine” he observed, taking off his jacket and hovering at your knees. “Did you hit your head? Are you cold?” he gazed back at the fire and looked above him as a creaking sound split the night air forebodingly.

“What the hell was that?!” you yelled, sitting up unsurely and gripping the collar of his shirt. “I thought….I thought….I don’t know what I thought!!!!” you acquiesced, gripping your hands tightly around his neck and pulling him towards you. Pike rested his forearms on your thighs, bringing his forehead lightly to yours and breathing for a moment.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere” he rhythmically repeated, willing your breathing to slow, while taking stock of the situation. “It kind of freaked me out, too” he whispered. “I know animals will sometimes seek out shelter in a blizzard, but the timing couldn’t be worse…” the cabin creaked again as though in confirmation. You tried to focus on Marcus’ lips as he spoke. What beautiful lips. You’d never noticed how plush they were. So soft. And kissable. You thought back on the disastrous, if not exciting events of the previous night. Sweet. His lips actually tasted sweet. You licked yours hungrily.

“I think we caught the little guy nibbling at the power cables” Pike paused dragging his hand over your forehead with care. “Why are you looking at me like that? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” his voice was still echoing strangely as you blinked heavily. He shook his head continuing undauntedly, “I don’t know much about generators, but I’m assuming we don’t want them smoking like a barbecue pit” Pike chuckled nervously as you reached up to delicately finger the snowflakes in his hair. He closed his eyes contentedly, trying to steady himself. “I haven’t been that scared in ages!” he twitched with self deprecation. “I sort of caught ‘Meeko’, unannounced. He sure didn’t take it very well”, Pike sagged with relief as you ran your fingers over his scalp. Awash with confusion and exhaustion you began giggling uncontrollably.

“What? What’s so funny?” Pike grinned, opening his eyes to your tittering frame.

“Meeko?” you snickered with delight, “…like from Pocohontas? Our grand nemesis of the evening was a raccoon?” you stopped abruptly, suddenly a bit sobered. “Oh my God, did you shoot him?” you gulped, unzipping the snowsuit a bit, to defrost.

Pike shrugged comedically. “Contrary to popular belief, the Art Squad is not the Firing Squad” he jested, “I think he scared me more than I scared him. He definitely ran off in to the woods, but we are none the safer” he glanced towards the kitchen in defeat, pausing to strategize.

“Let me think out loud for a second, my mind is swimming” he reasoned, carefully standing and rubbing his forehead tiredly. “The generator is nearly gone, Bessie is officially out of commission. Landlines are down, as is our cell phone reception. We’ve still got some food, which we could chill outdoors if necessary, but the pipes are frozen. I mean, we’re literally surrounded by snow and we could just melt some of it if things get desperate. But who knows how long the generator will last, and this fire is our main source of warmth. I guess we could burn the Christmas Tree if we ran out of fire wood?” Pike heaved a hefty sigh of defeat, looking at the formerly homey symbol of holiday cheer, now figuratively going up in flames. “But at least you’re not going anywhere this Christmas Eve” Pike tried to focus on that silver lining, peering up at the ceiling with apprehension as the winds only increased their fervor.

Your addled mind flashed on your earlier nightmare, wincing at the nearly clairvoyant similarity. It seemed that one minute you couldn’t wait to stay, and now both of you were desperate to somehow find a way out. “Sounds like YOU might be the one who’s leaving me” you pouted, finally willing to confront the REAL nightmare that neither of you had addressed. Pike sighed heavily, casting his eyes to the floor in disappointment.

“Look, about that…” he began as you stood to your feet unsteadily, trying to even the playing field.

“Why in the world didn’t you say so, Agent Pike?” you teetered precariously as the room seemed to shift diagonally, bracing a hand against the couch for assistance. “How could you let me think…or why didn’t you…” realizing that once again you were at a loss for words. Why was it so hard for you to connect the dots? The pandemic had deprived you of human connection, communication…LOVE! Your life felt like it was in shambles, separate and alone, and Pike’s permanent departure was just one more example of that. Even in a blizzard you couldn’t get anyone to stay!

“Agent Pike? Are we using our Christian names now?” Marcus teased, attempting to lighten the mood after the adrenaline infused hijinks.

“Come on, I’m serious! I feel terrible for making assumptions about…you…and me…or us…or Donna Reed…” you trailed off, stumbling around the room slightly trying to assemble your thoughts cohesively.

“Hey, maybe you should sit down” Pike cautioned, extending a hand and beginning to follow you around the room tentatively. “Please, let me explain, I WANT to explain. When you kissed me last night…”…

“This is SO typical of me” you rambled, pacing in circles as the blizzard howled around you outside. “I finally become the hero of my own story and I can’t even land the guy for heaven sakes!” you protested, unzipping your snowsuit a bit further in the warmth of the fireplace. “I have main character energy!” you shouted as Pike nodded affirmatively “MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY!” you repeated, rubbing at your temples confusedly.

“You do!” Pike encouraged, following along behind you like a woebegone puppy, his hand placed gently at your back to ensure you didn’t fall over. “VERY Kate Winslet!” he supported, moving the small side table out of your way so you didn’t trip over it.

“And the moment I take matters into my own hands…” you whirled in place, gripping Pike by the collar and shaking him emphatically, “you slip right from my grasp!” you collapsed your hips against his, looking up into those glowing, chocolate-colored orbs of light.

“I’m here! You’ve got me” he rasped, holding you at the waist and inching his face closer to yours imploringly.

“No I don’t!” you huffed, beginning your pacing again with Pike in tow. “Now you’re headed off to Washington D.C, and our perfect Christmas is RUINED!” you emphasized for greater effect. “I don’t even have a gift for you! And whyyyy didn’t you tell me?” you whined falling back against Pike’s chest dramatically and slumping slightly against him. Pike propped you up by your elbow, gripping you around the waist supportively.

“Will you please sit down? Something feels off….I’m feeling off” Pike was trying to make sense of everything, but it was difficult with this splitting headache. Had the lack of sleep finally caught up with him? He didn’t even have any Merlot last night, why was everything so distorted?

You pushed away from him, swaying haphazardly in confusion. Now there were…TWO Pikes standing in front of you. Oh well, now you could TWICE as mad! The cabin groaned forcefully as the room seemed to lurch forward and back. “You know, I could really like…BOTH of you if you’d just give me a chance!” you tried to point an accusatory finger at the pair of them as Pike’s image blurred before you.

“I want to! I want more! I want YOU but…GEEZ…my head in pounding right now. Do you have a headache, too?” the Pikes curiously questioned, reaching back to steady themselves at the fireplace hearth and pinching the bridge of their noses with fatigue.

“I ought to after this nightmare!” you unzipped your snow suit all the way to your waist revealing your sparkling pink bra and fanning your face heatedly. Why the hell was it always so hot?

A dull cracking sound echoed outside as a heavy branch split through the living room window blasting an icy gale of wind through the epicenter of your conversation. Pike shielded his eyes, staggering towards you, grabbing you by waist and pulling you in.

“Careful Pink! Are you okay?” Pike shouted over the din of chaos, bringing both hands to the sides of your face and looking into the dazed expression that was mirrored back.

“I don’t feel so good…” you mumbled, your knees buckling beneath you, crumpling to the ground as Pike cradled your body to the floor. Shielding you against the wind he drew his fingers lightly across your forehead, trying to clear strands of hair away from your eyes. The two Marcus’ coalesced into one image that flickered before you like a dimming television screen before separating again into mirage like images of apprehension.

“Pink? Pink….?” his voice began to distance itself into the dull recesses of your mind as a high pitched whine moved towards the forefront. You reached up to touch his lips tenderly.

“Merry Christmas…” you droned, feeling your body simultaneously feather light and anvil heavy, wishing you had the strength to kiss him once again.

“Stay with me, Pink…” Pike’s voice vanished into an echoing chasm while your thoughts muted to a single pin prick of enlightenment.

What a beautiful nightmare, you mused…before the entire world went dark.

*thanks @unknown-till for the cool dividers!

Pike's Place A Christmas Story

Thanks to @burntheedges "Roll-a-Trope Challenge" this dynamic duo is going strong till Christmas Day. I've started a slow burn Winter Series with the assist of @inept-the-magnificent! New episode every couple weeks.

Triggers: tipsy heroine, smut, Christmas galore in sugary sweetness, discussions of ex, pandemic reflections, profanity, teeny tiny cut, mention of a gun...this one is pretty tame...so far...

Series Masterlist

Pike felt the pulse of your thighs holding him securely in place, as you gripped his wrists, gently pulling them behind his back. His eyelids fluttered momentarily, surprised at this forward change in tonality. You began lazily circling your hips over his gray sweatpants. Somehow his eyes were closed, but he was seeing every detail of your rosy complexion. Every freckle. Every crease. Every sumptuous plump and wrinkle was etched in his mind as his hips jerked forward into your hold. “M-more…” he stuttered, gulping loudly, slightly ashamed at his unabashed reaction. “More pleassssse…” he hissed, hearing the smirk as your voice retorted, “I’m the one calling the shots, Agent”. His head lolled lazily back as he tried to focus on his breathing, and not the feel of your breasts bouncing lightly against his bare chest. “More, more, more…” he mumbled incoherently as you increased your tempo. Pike was pure sensation. Embodied pleasure. A flame, alight under the weight of your soft body that was cascading and rippling atop him. “Do you like your Christmas present?” you drolled, as Pike began to paw at your chest with ravenous attention, gripping the pink lace of your negligee between his teeth and holding you at the back. “Yes…yes…yes…” he droned into your sternum. He opened his eyes to find…the reprimanding face of his ex, now standing above him, with a snow shovel. 

“Lisbon?” he countered, grabbing at the blanket in his lap and pulling it up to his chin. “Can’t you just let go?” she sarcastically questioned, pushing the snow shovel against his chest and digging in slightly. “When will you ever learn?” she growled, slowly morphing into the cartoon version of The Snow Miser, until her head bumped into the cabin’s ceiling. 

“What the hell?” Pike shimmied backwards, now in a full suit and grappling with three heavy suitcases.

“Ho, ho, ho and Merry Christmas!” a loud voice boomed from the outdoors, until Santa kicked the cabin’s door down, cutting an aggressive figure in bright red security apparel and smoking a cigar. 

“It’s not time yet!” Pike shouted with conviction, dropping all three suitcases and reaching for his gun, only to find a small Nerf Blaster in the holster. “Get out of my house! I’m…ON THE ART SQUAD!!!”, he bellowed attempting to pelt Santa with insignificant foam balls that exploded into tinsel.

“Have you been naughty or nice???” Santa boomed, reaching for a large red satchel and throwing it over Pike in one motion. Pike wrestled in the dark, helplessly shouting to get your attention, his feet slipping underneath him in the silky satchel. “Ho, ho, ho and Merry Christmas!!!!”

Pike jerked awake in the dull morning’s light, his heart thumping wildly in his chest sporadically. Rubbing his face with fervor, he reached for his phone haphazardly, knocking a wine glass to the cabin’s floor. “Damn” he whispered, afraid to make too much noise while you slept in the upstairs bedroom. Sleeping on the living room couch had been the obvious choice for the last few nights, but maybe he needed to scale back on the Merlot. If it was going to be fueling his nightmarish dreams, he probably should stick to hot chocolate from now on. He smiled with chagrin, looking at the small mess, and mostly finished plates of pasta adorning the nearby coffee table. Pike was meticulously neat, almost to a fault, but the last few days he couldn’t help himself, relaxing into an easy routine with his newfound guest. The pink motorist. You.

He smiled to himself, carefully sliding into his morning slippers and padding around the shards of glass to get a broom and shovel. He shivered slightly in the morning’s air and abrupt memory of his ex standing before him with her own shovel, pointing an accusatory finger. Pike was no psychologist, but he knew enough about artistic interpretation to divine his nightmarish subconscious. Even fictional exes had a point. The definition of idiocy was utilizing the same technique and expecting different results. He shuffled quietly through the living room to begin tidying up. Despite evidence to the contrary, his experience had taught him, that even with the best of intentions, love doesn’t just come knocking on your door. There’s a constant complexity of timing, experiences, desires…to say nothing of blizzards, exes and…whatever that was. He shook his head with self-deprecation. Get your head out of the sky and back in the snow, Pike, he chastised himself, sweeping up the remnants of broken glass, reaching for the final remainder…

Stretching like a cat and blinking sleepily into the friendly sunshine you smiled conspiratorially hugging Pike’s shirt to yourself indulgently and breathing in the fading woodsy scents. Pike had been kind enough to retrieve your luggage from Bessie the (now broken-down) Hyundai, but you always managed to change into his pajamas from the first wind swept evening at “Pike’s Place”. You bit your lower lip with confusion. How were you so comparatively unbothered? It had now been 72 hours since your first snowsuit-ed appearance at Pike’s doorstep, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Once you ascertained your relative safety, the last three days had snowballed into a cozy blur, falling into an easy routine, learning about your welcoming cabin mate, working from home…

You paused. I’m not working from home, I’m working from HIS home. Or home away from home? What am I even doing, and why am I so delighted by this turn of events? You huffed a sigh of confusion, relishing the memory of coffee, cookies and movies that had accompanied your easy friendship with Marcus over the last several days. Agent. Pike. You rolled your eyes at your momentary mental lapse. Things weren’t perfect. You had several digital arguments with the mechanic down the hill, a bumpy start to your unexpected stay, and the most snowfall Big Bear had seen in a decade. You thought of Bessie, now completely covered in drift, shivering in the whitened landscape. But you couldn’t care less. Christmas Eve was in 24 hours and you were stranded with Marcus until the unforeseeable future….and you couldn’t have been more enamored. It had been a difficult negotiation of self as you realized how rusty your post-pandemic social skills had become. There was the looming presence of his ghostly ex and your own insecurities, but with every emotional flinch, Pike seemed completely unawares, wrapping you in a holiday blanket of friendship, safety and chocolate chip cookies. It was almost too good to be believed, and you felt yourself waiting for the other Christmas stocking to drop. But maybe you could take a page out of Pike’s book and believe in a Christmas miracle. Maybe you WERE the hero in your own story and this “made for you” Hallmark extravaganza could finally get started without you ruining your own rom-com. Your eyes twitched to the door with surprise at the muffled sounds from the living room.

You heard Marc…Pike’s sleep-muddled voice tinged with emotion.

“More…Yes, yes, yes…” you listened, unsure of what you eavesdropping on. “Lisbon?”

Shit. Was that his ex? Your memories flashed on the small photograph you had accidentally stumbled upon in his briefcase. Good Lord, are they talking on the phone? Oh my God, would she come and visit for Christmas? Wouldn’t THAT be my luck, you pondered. Maybe the threat of the ex wasn’t quite so distant as you’d hoped. You flung the blankets off, shivering in the newfound cold, your legs mostly bare under Pike’s large flannel pajama top, searching for your morning slippers. What were you hoping for? you chided yourself, padding around the room looking for a change of clothes, and eyeing the door clandestinely. You could listen a little bit…just to…you know…stay informed? You pouted grumpily, shuffling across the room and pressing your ear against the door. 

“What the hell?” Pike raised his voice a bit. “Get out of my house!”

You audibly gasped. Was she already here? Pike sounded PISSED. Okay, score one for us you quickly appraised, before marveling at her bitchy bravado. How dare she show up on Marcus’ doorstep for the holidays, after breaking his heart! The irony of that accusation didn’t escape you before hearing a crash of glass and raising up to your full height of 5’3”. Oh hell no. Where’s my crowbar?

With all the force a small redhead could muster you nearly flung yourself down the stairwell, crowbar in hand, prepared for anything except the vision you found.

“StopStopStopStopStop! There’s glass!” Pike cautioned, holding up a distressed hand ornamented by a small trickle of blood. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” you gulped, tiptoeing down the stairwell carefully and crouching at Pike’s side. 

“Just clumsy” he chuckled, before you grabbed his wrist, eyeing the small cut appraisingly. Without even thinking, you popped his finger into your mouth and began sucking lightly. Oh my God. You had never been a morning person and the adrenaline of the moment had completely overridden your common sense, but this was…Your eyes rounded to small saucers as Pike’s mouth dropped open in surprise. You both froze mid-moment as Pike’s eyes drifted down your body, gazing at your freckled knees and silky skin. His length tantalizingly twitched in his gray sweatpants, as he desperately prayed you hadn’t noticed. You had.

“Are you wearing my pajamas?” Pike finally rasped, pulling his finger ever so slowly out of your mouth and using it to tuck a hair behind your ear.

“They’re very well made” you heard yourself respond, as though from another universe, balanced precariously close to Marcus’ curious expression. “DO YOU HAVE A FIRST AID KIT?” you yelled into his face with overt concern as Pike nearly fell backwards in surprise.

“Of course!” he quipped. “Check the study if you want, I think I’ll probably survive the blood loss thanks to your…quick thinking…” he smiled as your cheeks reddened. You gulped with embarrassment, making fast work of finding the first aid kit as Pike cleared the glass from the living room.

You carefully padded into the kitchen, sitting at the nearby barstool as Pike drifted in front of you. “S’okay Doc, it’s just a flesh wound” Pike joked, leaning against the counter and positioning himself rather closely between your spread knees. You cleared your throat with arousal, attempting to focus on the task at hand, grabbing some anti-bacterial. 

“I’ll be the judge of that, Agent” you smirked, unknowingly mirroring Pike’s clandestine dreamscape as he shifted awkwardly. You held his hand in yours, applying the spray and then blowing over his finger seductively, watching the light goosebumps splay across his forearms.

“I thought I heard voices downstairs, was somebody here? Did the storm lighten up?” you wondered, trying to get a read on Pike’s expression.

As though shaking himself from a daze Pike sighed heavily, answering, “No! I was just…uh…I talk in my sleep…” he grinned, turning his lower body slightly towards the counter. This was a surprising way to wake up and he wasn’t 100% sure if the rest of his body had gotten the message.

You nodded, peering out the window at the new layer of snow drifting from the sky. “It’s even worse!” you exclaimed, placing a bandaid around Pike’s pointer finger as he winced pathetically. “Sorry…” you apologized, planting a feather light kiss on the tip of his finger. 

Wow. I’m really laying it on thick, you thought. But seeing Marcus’ eyes crinkle appreciatively banished any self doubt that might have remained.

“Well, here at Pike’s Place, we remunerate friendly bedside manner with copious coffee. I assume you’d like your regular order m’lady?” Pike jested, squeezing your arm lightly with gratitude.

“Absolutely” you sighed, happy to re-start your daily routine. Somehow the last three days had transpired the way you wished the pandemic might have. Easy conversation as you worked from your laptop. Taking a lunch break mid-day you would join Pike around the small tv and flickering hearth, marveling at the manilla folders and envelopes of art curators, recent cases and photographs. Between laughter and mouthfuls of tuna fish sandwiches Pike was already teaching you a lot about art dealers and policing the black market. And as you finished your evening work, you and Pike would always watch another movie fueled by your questionable cooking attempts and…one too many bottles of Merlot. Is this how other people had waited out the pandemic? You reminded yourself to stop the comparison game and just be grateful for the moment you had. Tomorrow, Bessie could spring to life, or the blizzard could die down, and…there goes Christmas.

You swallowed, watching Pike’s fit form shuffle into the kitchen, pulling out two mugs and heating up the skillet for pancakes. Your heart lurched violently in your chest realizing that you had started placing an expectation on celebrating Christmas…with him. It wasn’t even a hope you’d articulated to yourself until this very moment, though you’d already cautioned your parents that things were proceeding unexpectedly and they should make other plans. But this was more than a haphazard circumstance, this was steadily becoming that aforementioned Hallmark Movie, but you weren’t sure you were up to heroine material.

Pike turned towards you, “Sugar?”

You frowned pensively, once again trying to reconcile the many doubts floating through your vision.

“Hey, what happened?” Pike teased. “Tired of my pancakes already? We can have…I think there’s a waffle iron here somewhere” he started rummaging around through the cabinets.

“No, I love your pancakes!” you piped up, “I was just…thinking…about Christmas” you trailed off, unsure of how much could be readily shared.

Pike paused reflectively, “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I’m sure, being stuck here with a complete stranger for the holidays wasn’t your dream vacation” he grimaced, pouring the arabica roast into an old fashioned coffee maker.

You stilled, surprised that Pike had somehow drawn the opposite conclusion from your emotional reality, but unsure how to convey the disconnect. “I mean, you’re not a complete stranger” you joked, tossing a bandage at his back to get his attention.

Pike turned, his face full of theatrical gravitas. “Ma’am that is not entirely hygienic hospital behavior at Pike’s Place” he shut the coffee machine with a flourish, stooping to pick up the tissue. “I was thinking…” he stopped abruptly, desperate to turn over a new leaf, but also conflicted regarding your confession. You waited, breath poised as the cogs turned in Pike’s head.

 “Thinking was your first mistake, Agent. I dare you to tell me that last thought. I double dog dare ya!” you teased from last night’s viewing of “A Christmas Story”.

Pike chuckled throwing up his hands in supplication. “I was determined to sulk around this Christmas until…” he gestured towards you, as you pantomimed a theatrical bow. “But as you might have guessed, Christmas is a big deal in the Pike household…”.

You gasped audibly, clutching your chest with dramatics. “What? From the apron and cookies and general holiday enthusiasm, I NEVER would have guessed!” you taunted, smelling the chocolatey aroma of coffee percolating in the sunshine infused kitchen.

“And lately, it’s almost like…Christmas is barreling towards us, gaining speed, and I just wish there was something I could do about it. For you. Or us. I mean, you” Pike tripped over the finish line, quickly resuming his cooking activities without ruining the entire proposition. Your face burst into a Cheshire-like grin. Of course. This didn’t seem like a man who was trying to get rid of you. Marcus seemed like the contemporary embodiment of Father Christmas, and he’d probably been waiting for such a moment as this to test the frigid waters. YOUR frigid waters if you’d ever loosen up.

“What did you have in mind?” you asked innocently enough, until Pike swirled around, running out of the kitchen enthusiastically.

“I’m so glad you asked, I’ve written down some ideas!” he nearly bounded into the study, rummaging around through his notebooks and displaying it proudly before you.

“How long have you been working on this?” you twinkled, skimming the lengthy list of possible Christmas activities to enjoy, during a blizzard.

“Just…since…you got here” Pike admitted, running back to get the brewing coffee before it bubbled over. “I mean…just brainstorming is all…we don’t have to…” Pike set about finishing breakfast as you read.

If there was a ten step program to celebrating a Hallmark Christmas this was it. You had to give it to him; Pike KNEW Christmas. And at this rate, Pike knew YOU. The only reason you hadn’t suggested these things was because you had turned into the Grinch. But no longer. 

“I like it. Work with you’ve got” you whispered, as Pike placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of you with questioning eyes and curiosity. 

“Too much? Not enough?” he joked, as you fingered the impressive drawings in the margins.

“I think it’s perfect”.

It looked like the pink snowsuit was about to get a dubious refrain as you and Pike endeavored to find Christmas in the snowy tundra. You bore a striking similarity to Randy Parker in your pillowy snowsuit, oversized boots and Lenny Kravitz style scarf. Between slipping and sliding out of Pike’s helpful grasp, you finally collapsed in a heap in the powdery snow, flailing your arms like a small child.

“I believe I am currently fulfilling Number 5 on your Christmas List” you giggled “though I’m not sure how many snow angels are bright pink!” you laughed as Pike gazed at you wonderingly.

“I believe it’s listed as Number 4, but you won’t be penalized for a technicality” Pike nearly jumped on top of you, amidst your squeals as he rolled to the side making his own snow angel beside you. A small, ill-formed snowball caught him across the neck, peppering his chest with an explosion of icy sensation as he sat up, forebodingly.

“Oh, is that the game you wanna play, California?” he cautioned, rolling to one side and compacting a large, skilled arsenal as you froze mid-play. 

“I surrender!” you tittered, throwing your hands above your head in mock surprise. “That wasn’t me. That was…Scrooge! The Grinch! I saw him sneaking around the cabin…” Pike lunged in your direction, caging you in against his body, poised to stuff a handful of snow down the front of your suit. Your eyes glimmered temptingly, simultaneously hopeful and terrified, as he thought better of it, throwing the snowball over his shoulder and offering you a hand up.

“I will not be dissuaded, Pink” he joked, attempting to pull you to your feet amidst giggles and protestations. “Even the Grinch will not deter us as we quest for Christmas!” Pike finally hoisted you upright, pulling you into his body closely, the smell of coffee, mint and pine tingling your nose coldly. Your lips numbed in anticipation. Was he going to kiss you? He held your gaze for what felt like an eternity, as the snowy landscape somehow burned warmly. Licking his lips and taking a deep breath he pulled back, holding your lower back with a steadying hand. “Now to find our Christmas Tree” he announced, trudging towards the woodshed, ostensibly to get an axe of some kind.

That wasn’t just in your head, right? you mused, watching his athletic form cut a path through the waist high snowdrift towards a patch of smaller trees. Was your buddy, Pike just playing it safe? Or did Marcus feel the same atmospheric crackle that you just did? Once again you flashed on the photograph of Lisbon, somehow juxtaposed by a sorrowful image of you pacing the floor in your self-imposed, pandemic quarantine. Were you so desperate for connection you were imagining things? Or was there something more between you and Pike? Pike beamed broadly from about 50 feet away, shaking a small pine free of dotty snowflakes and cupping his hand to his mouth, “What d’ya think, Pink? Is this the one?”

You smiled to yourself clandestinely. Oh yes Agent Pike, this might be the one indeed.

Pike dragged a small pine tree over the threshold as he simultaneously attempted to corral your giggling, unsure footing into the cabin’s cozy interior. Pike slammed the door shut, grinning broadly as you slipped wildly backwards, grabbing onto to his waist comically.

“Okayeeee California! Thank God we’re not sending you back out on the road quite yet! We’ve got a Christmas to assemble, and you look like Bambi on ice…”

You were having trouble catching your breath, a steady stream of uncontrollable laughter racking your ribs and threatening your bladder. ALL of that pent up pandemic pressure was FINALLY starting to dissipate, and you were starting to feel euphoric in the possibility. Pike pulled you to your feet, unzipping the hood of your snowsuit, his finger lingering at your sternum for a moment. 

“Sorry I’m a little weak-knee’d” you uttered breathlessly as Pike looked down at your blue-tinged lips. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob painfully in his throat as he begrudgingly pulled back with a doleful smile. 

“Um…Happy to get you back on your feet” he stuttered, searching for the rusted Christmas Tree stand in the hallway closet. You took a deep breath attempting to rally your resolve. You couldn’t tell if Pike reciprocated or was just being cordial. Heaven’s knows you found yourself in a unique situation, but you didn’t want to make the same mistakes from the past, becoming so isolated that you couldn’t reach out and accept a gift that was right in front of you. Somehow, you’d have to ascertain what the situation was with the ex. Did he still love her? Why did they break up? Or was this just another case of slipping into the friend zone? As your cold exterior had begun to melt, was it already too late, or could things be salvaged, much like this MacGyver’d Christmas? There was only one way to find out.

“What do you think?” Pike stepped back from his quick work, admiring the victorious and homey tree that wobbled proudly next to the hearth. “A Christmas miracle in the making!”

“It’s perfect” you beamed, excited to see where the evening’s festivities would take you. 

“Moving on to the arts and crafts portion of our day” Pike teased, “I think there is some kind of bird or ham hiding in the outdoor freezer, which means all that remains is finding…the perfect gift” Pike paused dramatically.

You burst into another bout of laughter, unsure of his meaning, “Do you have a Macy’s hiding out back that I’m unaware of?”

Pike rolled his eyes comedically as you dusted off your snow boots and plopped unceremoniously onto the couch to defrost.

“Pink, you can’t have a Christmas without gifts, we just have to think outside of the box. Literally” he sat down next to you, propping his feet up on the coffee table and gazing at the crackling fire pensively.

“I’m gonna need to know way more about my target audience before I go shopping” you mused. “I’m fairly certain Amazon doesn’t deliver via chimney, and unless you are pining for a crowbar, my options are limited” you paused. “Twenty questions?”

“Shoot” Pike teased.

“Favorite color?”

“Blue”.

“Music genre?”

“Jazz”.

Your eyebrows cocked upward. Noted.

“Favorite food?”

“Depends. Are you cooking?”

You kicked Pike lightly on the shin as he began chuckling.

“Best gift you ever received?”

The atmosphere in the room stiffened slightly as Pike readjusted on the couch. “Uhhhh…well…Lisbon gave me a signed screenplay of ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’, last year…it’s…uh…in storage now…” he trailed off, disappointed at the finality of the story. Your breath caught in your throat hesitantly. This was it. This was the information you needed, but you didn’t want to push things when so much of the day had been steeped in perfection.

“Oh, I’m sorry, we don’t have to…” you began, until Pike waved you off, gesticulating.

“If we’re going to be celebrating the holidays together, I probably need to revisit Christmas Past. It’s just a little…embarrassing…” he nudged the coffee table with a small pout.

“More embarrassing than isolating yourself completely for two years?” you encouraged, willing Pike to share anything that would offer insight. “Or was it more embarrassing than this bright pink snowsuit I can’t seem to escape, despite my best efforts?” you teased, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Fair enough” Pike acquiesced. “Though…I am still very partial to pink” he admitted, choosing his next words carefully. “Lisbon…my ex…just didn’t…we weren’t on the same page” he confessed, as though for the first time. His eyes took on a shine that didn’t seem entirely related to the cold. “I made some mistakes, and…read the signs wrong…and she broke it off. She’s with somebody else…who isn’t me” a momentary pained look flashed across his face before resuming its quintessential good natured complexion. “Your turn” he ventured.

“Shoot”.

“Favorite color?”

You tilted your head telepathically.

Pike tossed his hands up in surrender. “Favorite music?”

“Jazz” you pursed your lips mischievously.

“No cheating in class, please” Pike joked. “Favorite gift?”

The deep silence that stilled in your chest felt simultaneously liberating and cavernous as you realized how long it had been since the holidays felt…normal.

“Last year I had to do Christmas alone and it was really…weird” you recollected. “I finally opted to buy myself a really fancy journal so I wouldn’t feel so lonely” you shared, blushing slightly at the admission. 

“So…your best gift was…you” Pike smiled, satisfied with the description. You were a bit less satisfied, collapsing in on yourself and kicking him again, this time on the flank. 

“Shutup” you whispered, aware that in some respects, he was right.

Pike grinned knowingly and hoisted himself up with a huff, heading to the kitchen. “Time for Pike’s Place to get to work on the afternoon rush” he teased, grabbing his holiday apron and starting lunch. Your eyes narrowed ambitiously. This was the key. Lisbon might have known Pike, but she didn’t know what a gift she had in her grasp, and you weren’t going to make the same mistake. Sounds like she had dropped the ball, and not taken every advantage in front of her. This was one Christmas gift you were determined to unwrap, proving to Pike once and for all that he was more than worth the wait. 

Finally satiated in holiday magic, you and Pike laughed over crumbling sandwiches in the small dining room. Your laptop, helplessly shoved to the side, did nothing to dissuade the celebratory events as Pike spread an impressive cornucopia of magazines and newspapers to begin the “arts and crafts” portion of Christmas. Your Girl Scout badges were finally coming to fruition. Pike was annoyingly prodigious at all things artistic and had soon crafted more than a few impressive ornaments whilst regaling you with curated art insights. Lisbon was an idiot. Fuck it. YOU were Donna Reed, not in a snood and not in a pink snowsuit. You were gonna seize a page from Pike’s enthusiastic Place and grab Christmas by the balls. Or maybe Pike! Gasp. Marcus. Riiiiiight. Marcus. The force of your abrupt arousal throbbed noisily between your legs as you shifted slightly. Drawing yourself back into reality you found Pike gazing at you fixedly. You started at the intensity of his stare, hoping he wasn’t telepathically gifted.

“Getting bored?” Pike redirected, setting down the scissors and glue and looking outside at the resuming snowfall.

“Hardly” you muttered, just under your breath. The phone rang.

The phone rang?

Pike’s mouth dropped about a foot as you both froze expectantly. “What in the hell?” Pike laughed, running towards the study, barely remembering the landline that hadn’t been used in ages. “Pike’s Place, how may I direct your call?” you heard his muffled tones through the door stifling your laughter. You really had stepped back in time. The cabin grew eerily quiet as Pike spoke in hushed tones and finally hung up the phone. You swallowed noiselessly. Was something wrong? Was there a family emergency? Lisbon hadn’t reared her beautiful head again, had she? The sheer enormity of possibility stretched in front of you as Pike’s disappointed face flashed in front of you for a millisecond.

“Good news!” he exclaimed, wiping the conflicted look from his face almost immediately and sitting back down at the table. You breathed a sigh of relief, though still unsure of his unreadable reactions. “If it really is a problem with your transmission, like before, the mechanic finally ordered the CV joints and can give you a tow back into town tomorrow…” Pike delivered his monologue perfunctorily, trying to plaster a jovial smile on his otherwise lackluster expression, pausing in masked defeat. “Merry Christmas Pink, you’re free!”

You tried to hide your immediate disappointment, peering out the window to hide any blossoming tears and noting the short cessation of snowfall. “On Christmas Eve?” you cynically observed, trying to keep the harsh bite out of your tone, but reverting to a Scrooge like facade. 

“You don’t have to go to Macy’s after all!” Pike overtly chimed, a bit too melodically, settling into the silence of the anti-climax and gazing around the formerly happy cabin. The hearth crackled joyfully as “A Christmas Story” played on endless repeat on the television. Though the small Christmas Tree, devoid of ornaments seemed to slump in defeat. You bit your lower lip, gazing at the snow covered lump that was Bessie and trying to stifle a snow storm of tears hovering behind your eyes. 

“That’s wonderful news” you droned, not attempting to hide the obvious disappointment in your tone. It seemed ludicrous to indulge your now obsolete Christmas fantasies, but at what cost? You couldn’t even get to your parents in time this late in the season, and the tremendous repeated isolation seemingly stretched out before you. Another Christmas alone and perched on what was poised to be your best Christmas yet. “Guess I better get packing!” your voice cracked suddenly as you dove up the stairwell, wiping away stray tears as Pike called after you concernedly. Running up the stairs you slammed the door shut, throwing yourself on the bed dramatically. You couldn’t even stop the now steady stream of tears, muffling your cries into the pillowcase. There goes the holidays. There goes Pike. There goes your very own “Christmas Story”, up in ashes in the glimmering fireplace. A Merry Fucking Christmas.

Pike swallowed hard, hearing the upstairs bedroom slam shut theatrically. He had expected you to be delighted, but rushing upstairs to pack? Something didn’t add up; were you really so desperate to escape Pike’s Place? Pike forlornly gazed around the cabin, trying to once again cajole himself into celebrating the holidays alone. I mean, this is what he had planned. Survive the holidays and return to life. A life without love. Pike shook his head abruptly, gathering up the ornaments and trudging to the Christmas Tree. Help out a stray roadster in need. Drown sorrows in Merlot. Pike flashed on his repeated nightmares of Lisbon and Christmas chaos. Maybe scale back on the Merlot, he reprimanded himself. It wasn’t a surprise that he had once again misread the signals. It’s what he seemed to do best. But you’d seemed thoroughly delighted with the day’s festivities, and he had mirrored it. Just another mis-step Pike, he chided himself. The main thing now was to focus on giving you a celebratory send off, and getting back to the realities of work and solitude. Pike stepped back from the now decorated tree, gazing at it appraisingly. Time for this Holiday Fantasy to come to a close, he reasoned. Stop thinking with your heart, and start thinking with your head. Time to grow up, Pike. Maybe Christmas is really just for kids.

You needed several hours to regain your composure and pack your few belongings. You gazed annoyed at the stupid pink snowsuit hanging in the corner. Almost as though rehearsing a play, you began to fashion your monologue for departure. “Thank you again for all of your help, I couldn’t have survived this experience without you!” you chirped, hoping to convince yourself that a quick exit was the only solution. The choppy waves of emotions threatened to cascade over you with every re-direction as you exhaustedly sat on the bed. What if you didn’t just take this lying down? You might be leaving tomorrow, but what if you made some sort of grand gesture? Marcus had said that Lisbon chose.somebody else? Maybe this was your chance once and for all to prove to Marcus that he was worth the same care and enthusiasm that overflowed so naturally out of his very personhood.  Over the last several days, he had done nothing but shower you with care and concern. Wasn’t it time to jump into the holidays with both of your snow-booted feet, and take a genuine risk? 

Your nose crinkled delightedly in curiosity. You HAD to be imagining things. Your mouth began to salivate like Pavlov’s Dogs, tentatively opening the door and tiptoeing down the stairs hesitantly. Billowing fragrances of ham, chocolate, and wine wafted over you as you smirked at the twinkling Christmas Tree now fully decorated. The record player in the corner was playing some Ella Fitzgerald as “A Christmas Story” repeatedly looped on mute. Your mouth dropped open upon seeing the candlelit dinner shining before you.

“What the fuck?” you whispered, as Pike peeked his head around the corner.

“Merry Christmas?” Pike shrugged with chagrin, removing his apron and straightening his tie. You stood gaping, completely speechless at the celebratory sight glowing before you. This was more than anybody deserved, particularly you. Somehow you had stumbled into “An Unexpected Christmas Story”, and you weren’t going to wait for anyone else to pull it from your grasp.

“It’s too much, right?” Pike winced with embarrassment. “I just figured…I couldn’t eat this ham all by myself…and…we ought to…celebrate your return to freedom on this somewhat snowy Christmas Eve…eve…” he trailed off, desperately hoping this fell under the facade of friendship. You might not reciprocate his feelings, but life had taught him to seize whatever joy crosses your path, because opportunities evaporate at a moment’s notice. And he was just grateful to be enjoying the moment he was in…with you.

Without saying a word, you ran into his arms, grasping him tightly about the neck, determined to hold your tears at bay.

“Whoa!” Pike mumbled into your hair, surprised at your reaction, but pleased nonetheless. “I’m just glad Bessie brought you to my doorstop to remind me about the true meaning of Christmas” Pike chuckled. “Which is, always get your transmission checked before a long sojourn” Pike pulled back to tuck a stray hair behind your ear hesitatingly “…and always expect the unexpected”.

This was it. You picked at the edges of your sweater nervously, as you and Pike sat on the couch watching the umpteenth reshowing of the AMC classic. You were already three glasses of Merlot in, particularly as Pike had refrained, but you couldn’t seem to get enough liquid courage into your system to fuel your plans of seduction. Your eyes traveled to the shimmering Christmas Tree aglow with homemade ornaments and frivolity. A small hiccup racked your body as you noticed a manilla envelope with a bow sparsely dotting the otherwise barren underskirt. Was that a gift??? You covered your mouth in incredulity, about to scoff at Pike’s preparation before hearing his contented breathing next to you. You knew he was a morning person, but perhaps the day’s events had tuckered him out. He was dozing peacefully next to you, fingers twitching mere inches from your thigh. A pained expression crossed your face, adoring the placid expression and parted lips that greeted you. Oh God, he was so handsome. Admiring his aquiline nose and fluttering brown eyelashes, your Merlot fueled gaze hungrily absorbed how broad his shoulders were and the sinewy veins pulsing at his neck, underneath his now loosened tie. Baby Jesus Christ. You unbuttoned the top of your shirt, once again overheating in the worst blizzard of a decade. You looked out the darkened window seeing a fresh batch of snow cascading downward. Cindy Lou be praised, maybe there was a way to redeem this turn of events, if you could just grab Christmas by the ornamental balls, and maybe Pike in the process. You reached for the nearby glass of Merlot, eyeing the bulge in Pike’s pants conspiratorially. Was he …? You blinked nonsensically over the rim of your wine glass, hoping to bypass your own insecurities. From the tv, Ralphie Parker touted the benefits of an official red-rider carbine action two hundred shot range model air rifle BB gun. You knew exactly what you wanted to give Pike for Christmas. But were you going to be brave enough to pull the trigger?

Pike felt the echoes of his discontent pulling him further and further down. He wanted to be happy for your apparent victory, and enjoy the remaining time he had with you, but he also couldn’t keep his eyes open. Early mornings and poor sleep lulled him into a dozing stupor as the ghost of Lisbon kept jostling him awake. With a start, he sat up, the television off, cabin cold and barren, save the glowing light of your room at the top of the stairwell. Nooooooo. He took in the shimmering Christmas Tree and empty bottle of Merlot, sad that Christmas had come and gone so anticlimactically. He gazed down at the manilla envelope, planning to give it to you before you left. He felt his heart wrench in his chest uncomfortably, acknowledging yet another loss. Why did the holidays always inspire so much pathos in him? Where was his “Wonderful Life?”, and why did it always seem to be slipping from his grasp?

Your fingertips dragged seductively over his shoulder to his forearm, and like something out of a dream, you floated into his view, clad only in your delicate pink bra and lace panties, silhouetted by the sparkling fire. Pike’s voice caught in his throat, completely captivated by the glowing figure in front of him. His eyes trailed hungrily over your curving frame, turning his palms up in supplication and hoping beyond hope that things would turn out better than his past romances. Without saying a word, you straddled his hips and began circling them enticingly. His eyelids fluttered shut as his head fell back against the couch, delicately bringing his fingers across the smooth skin of your ass. He whispered your name sacredly. It felt like a miracle. “Miracle at Pike’s Place…”

Pike’s pretty eyelashes were fluttering in sleep as you moved slightly closer to his warm body. His lips were moving incoherently as his palms sat upward on his lap imploringly. You couldn’t help but be magnetically pulled to his supplicant posture….and then…he whispered your name. It wasn’t so much of a whisper as a soft moan, as your eyes shot up to his sleeping countenance. Oh God, don’t have to tell me twice, your Merlot addled brain reasoned. With all the nuance of a bulldozer you practically leapt onto Pike’s lap, placing both hands on his broad shoulders as he grabbed you around the waist confusedly.

“W-what?” Pike mumbled, heart pounding fiercely in his chest and waking to find you astride his lap, lower lip stained in wine.

“Is this okay?” you asked, realizing the cart was significantly in front of the horse at this point, but you didn’t care. Not only was your libido exploding like a firecracker, you were officially out of time. Or were you? You placed your hands lightly to the sides of Pike’s neck, pulling him towards you. “Can I kiss you?” you beseeched him, grabbing at the collar of his dress shirt and woman-handling the loose tie.

“K-kiss me” he repeated dumbly, eyes wide as saucers.

You had no idea if that was a question or a statement, but the Merlot had other plans. You smashed your lips to his with abandon as you felt his hands melt into your back, drawing down your body passionately. It was everything you had been dreaming about and more, but within a few seconds, Pike was pulling back. 

“Wait, wait…we can’t do this…” he panted, clearly conflicted in the heat of the moment.

“Pretty sure we’re two grown-ups, we can do whatever we want” you mumbled into his neck, kitten licking up by his earlobe. You felt his body shudder underneath you excitingly.

“No…I mean…I’m out of time…we’re out of time…” he implored, pushing back from you every so slightly.

“It’s okay! I’m not going to leave tomorrow…I’ve decided to stay! I want a Christmas with you…” you blushed unabashedly at the revelation, but in for a penny, in for a pound. You didn’t want to celebrate the holidays with anyone else, and this was your chance to prove to Pike what the last few days had meant to you.

“No, you don’t understand!” Pike grabbed your hands, pulling them in front of your body. “I’M leaving…” he stated emphatically, looking directly into your eyes so there could be no misunderstandings.

You didn’t understand.

“What do you mean?” you stammered, halting your movements and pulling back with embarrassment. “I…I mean…I’m not drunk…I’m a little tipsy…but…you don’t have to leave…I mean…I thought…” you couldn’t grab the thread of understanding as Pike’s gaze continued to soften with concern. You slid off of his lap, gathering up your knees to your chest, sitting as far from him as possible on the living room couch. “Pike, where are you going?” you held your breath, willing yourself to disappear under the floorboards.

“I…I’m leaving…after Christmas” he apologized, seeing your still confused expression. “I don’t work in the Sacramento offices anymore. I’m moving to Washington D.C”.

*thanks @unknown-till for the cool dividers!

Pedge Tease

Pedge felt like a little tease today and wanted to know if you'd like an early release of the Roll-a-Trope "Pike's Place Episode Four"? It's slated for release this weekend, but if I get more than 10 votes in the affirmative, we'll release it tonight :) What do you think? Delayed gratification?

Pike felt the pulse of your thighs holding him securely in place, as you gripped his wrists, gently pulling them behind his back. His eyelids fluttered momentarily, surprised at this forward change in tonality. You began lazily circling your hips over his gray sweatpants. Somehow his eyes were closed, but he was seeing every detail of your rosy complexion. Every freckle. Every crease. Every sumptuous plump and wrinkle was etched in his mind as his hips jerked forward into your hold. “M-more…” he stuttered, gulping loudly, slightly ashamed at his unabashed reaction. “More pleassssse…” he hissed, hearing the slight smirk as your voice retorted, “I’m the one calling the shots, Agent”. His head lolled lazily back as he tried to focus on his breathing, and not the feel of your breasts bouncing lightly against his bare chest. “More, more, more…” he mumbled incoherently as you increased your tempo....

Pike's Place Elf

Yay! Here's Episode Three of @burntheedges Roll-a-Trope Challenge! I'm really digging this slow burn series, final episode on Christmas Day :) A big thank you to @inept-the-magnificent for cool rec's and assists!

Triggers: lite smut, profanity, discussions of isolation/pandemic, that d@mn snow suit (costume malfunctions), stranded motorist, honestly at this point in the story we might just die of sugar overload, literal and metaphoric please proceed at your own risk...

Series Masterlist:

The fire was crackling brightly, flickering across Pike’s face as he gazed longingly into your eyes. Your body was perched atop his on the couch, two glasses of wine sitting in front of the television screen playing an endless loop of “It’s a Wonderful Life”. Snow was lightly falling across the pristine white landscape, as the both of your were housed in a cocoon of winter wonders. You sighed heavily into his chest, body thrumming with anticipation.

“I can’t believe this is happening” he whispered lowly, grazing his lips across the soft flesh of your neck, noticing the breath hitch in your throat haltingly. “Is this okay?” he pulled back with concern, his large hands rubbing your shoulders in one fluid motion and watching you intently.

“More than okay” you smiled, leaning in and hovering just above his lips teasingly. “This has been a Christmas I’ll never forget” you breathed into his ear, watching the goose bumps splay across his cinnamon skin. You felt the corners of his mouth turn up against your cheek, beard tickling at your grin as you pulled back to see his expression.

“I think showing up on my doorstep in the middle of a blizzard, wearing…THAT…was particularly memorable” he joked, eliciting small tickles from you as he crumpled in a protective vice, smashing your body against his in a useless defense.

“You were the one in your slutty, gray sweatpants crying into your Merlot!” you taunted mercilessly, reaching your hands around to his sides and pinching his ribs.

“Ouch!” Pike laughed, pausing dramatically until he had your full attention. “I was NOT crying into my Merlot…”. Your tickling hands halted for a millisecond, unsure if you had inadvertently hurt his feelings, or crossed a line. “It was a Pinot Noir.” Pike could give as good as he could take, and launched a full fledged tickle assault as you writhed atop his body with delight. You were squealing like a small child, squeaking and huffing as Pike tenderly wrestled you into submission. His movements started to slow, until his hands were gripping your back, and moving in small circles, lower and lower and lower. Your pupils dilated to to lustful circles, feeling magnetically drawn to his pouty lips, closer and closer and closer until….

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

You inhaled quickly, taking an adrenaline fueled moment to look around the room in assessment. The cozy dream you had been enjoying started to recede into the hazy background. It was juxtaposed against the pounding of your heart keeping time with the knocks at the door.

“I don’t want to scare you, but I think there’s a good chance a mystery woman in a pink snow suit may have burgled my winter cabin last night?” the muted tones of Pike drifted through the cabin door as you eyed said snow suit across the room. Grabbing at the sheets, you pulled them up to your chin, remembering you were only wearing a t-shirt you had found in his cabinet that was sinfully soft and smelling of a woodsy pine. The events of the previous evening came flooding back to you, drumming in your chest. There weren’t a lot of options after Bessie the Hyundai had come to an unceremonious halt in this unexpected blizzard. Trudging the distance to a nearby cabin you had come upon Agent Marcus Pike, unlikely tipsy hero, who had offered you lodging in this unexpected conundrum. Truthfully, he had primarily offered you hot chocolate, as you listened to his melancholy tale of heart break and isolation. It hadn’t taken much to draw you in to the warmth of his personality and plight, particularly as it seemed aided by one too many glasses of red. Falling asleep on the couch you had tucked him in for the night and headed upstairs to survive the snow storm. The fuzzy remnants of your dream flashed into your memory as a smirk dotted your face. Guess it was obvious which direction your subconscious was headed, as it dragged your conscious mind right along with it. But would Agent Pike seem nearly as adorable in the harsh light of day? 

“I must remind you in this moment that I AM a man of the law, and trespassers will be treated with the utmost stringency and repudiation”. Silence followed as you gulped dryly. Oh my. Maybe he didn’t remember the events of last night and had already called the police. A quick image of you in a pink snowsuit and handcuffs flashed comedically across your mind scape.

“I’m not trespassing!” you called out, trying to diffuse the situation. The door gently swung open on a light squeak as Pike stood before you in a pressed white dress shirt and slacks carrying…a tray of pancakes?

Your mouth dropped open slightly taking in the angelic sight before you. You almost had to laugh at the comical rom-com persona grimacing before you, silhouetted by the morning sun. Pike couldn’t have appeared MORE cinematic, as you took in the bowl of pinecones, restaurant perfect pancakes, glass of orange juice and mug that read… “I’m only a morning person on Christmas Day”.

“I don’t usually make pancakes for burglars, but in this case, I thought I’d make an exception?” he joked, taking a quick glance at your disheveled morning hair and freckled confusion. Oh you were even cuter than he remembered from last night. Truthfully, he didn’t remember much. There was pink, there was a crowbar, there was…lingerie? That part seemed more like a fever dream. But glancing out the window of his snow-covered cabin he could clearly see a small car dotting the landscape, and the aforementioned crowbar sat atop the living room table, so there was evidence enough of his Merlot fueled fantasy. Somehow Jimmy Stewart, Donna Reed and the whole experience was a bit muddled in his mind, but he was fairly certain a roadster had requested lodging for the night and…he furrowed his brow in concentration. There was a lot of pink. Sexy pink? He cleared his throat with discomfort. One more example of romanticizing EVERY moment indiscriminately. But standing before you, gazing at your questioning expression he felt slightly justified in his usually theatrically perceptions. His memory was functioning just fine. You WERE adorable. And he had pancakes.

“I…uh…don’t remember ALL the details from last night, but I noticed your car out front, and thought you might have found yourself slightly stranded…” he trailed off, eyes widening at the sparkly pink bra draped across an even louder pink snowsuit. Ah, that was…something. The tray shook in his hand ever so slightly as a red tint crossed his cheeks, blazingly hot. “Oh, we didn’t…um…I mean…” he stuttered with concern, noticing the t-shirt you were wearing from his closet.

“Absolutely not!” you blurted out, nearly standing up, but remembering you were only wearing his t-shirt underneath the bedsheets. “Agent Pike…I mean Mr. Marcus…M-Marcus!” you took a deep breath, attempting to still your heart throbbing loudly in your ears. “I don’t make it a point to take advantage of…members of the Art Squad..” you winced awkwardly attempting to form a cohesive thought “…who have taken ME in for the night” you punctuated your sentence definitively trying to regain some measure of composure, and spotting his sigh of relief with slight disappointment.

The floorboards creaked beneath him as he shifted his weight with indecision.

“What kind of pancakes are those” you managed to eek out, happy to fill the void.

“Chocolate chip! I don’t have much in the way of sugar so your coffee might taste like maple syrup, I don’t know how you like it.”

I’m more than happy to tell you how I like it, Agent Pike, you clandestinely thought, overjoyed to finally keep your inner monologue silent for once.

“Can I…?” Pike paused precariously at the doorstep, indicating the foot of the bed.

“Please” you rasped. Somehow this appeared a bit begging on your part so you cleared your throat for a second attempt. “Yes, please enter”. Good Lord, it’s getting worse. Why do I ever use words, you wondered as Pike jauntily walked in, setting the tray down at the foot of the bed, and grazing your ankle ever so slightly with his pinky. You jerked away nervously, suddenly aware of his close proximity. Pike’s eyes shot up to yours with intensity.

“I’m sorry you were having car trouble last night” he took a step back, clasping his hands behind him modestly. “I did call the local mechanic and Triple A in the interim, but everything seems to be inaccessible at the moment.”

You nodded your head appraisingly, unfortunately unsurprised. This California Girl didn’t know much about blizzards, but business was hard enough during the holidays, let alone on a Sunday. You took another detailed look at Agent Marcus Pike who was casting quite the coifed, clean shaven aesthetic this morning in a button down white shirt and even wearing his lanyard, adding to his official presence.

“I didn’t realize the Art Squad was so proficient in the culinary arts” you teased, eyeing him up and down.

He smirked shyly, drawing his hand behind his neck and rubbing slightly. “I didn’t realize burglars were so pretty” he bit his lip painfully, already annoyed at himself. Too much. 

Your cheeks reddened as you pulled the sheets up even higher than they already were. “Well, it’s important when you’re having car trouble to try to look as fabulous as you can” you chuckled self-deprecatingly, feeling a bit out of sorts. “And what about you Agent Pike, are you…headed to work?” you questioned, wondering at his apparel.

“Oh, this old thing? I only wear it when I don’t care how I look!” he chuckled, backing out of the room slowly. “And you can call me Mr. Marcus, I mean M-Marcus, if you want…” he tripped slightly over the frame, grabbing the doorknob to steady himself. “I’ll just be downstairs tidying up, no rush” he ducked his head out quickly before he said anything else.

You laughed quietly to yourself, breathing a sigh of relief. Looks like you weren’t the only one out of sorts. You gazed down at the steaming cup of coffee and plated pancakes and smiled. What holiday Hallmark movie had you stepped into?

Pike plodded down the stairs shaking his head from side to side. Nice one, Pike, real smooth, he chastised himself, heading back into the kitchen. Why didn’t you just ask her ring size while you were there? He had to chuckle to himself, trying to elicit a bit of grace, noticing “Elf” playing on the television screen. That’s not an old movie, he muttered under his breath, but smiling with recognition. If anybody understood Buddy the Elf it was him. Endlessly optimistic, overly enthusiastic and a hopeless romantic. He took a moment to appreciate the roaring fire in the hearth, and pulled back the curtains to see your small forlorn Hyundai, punctuating the snowscape. Still on East Coast time, he had awakened bright and early, using all of his investigative skills to piece together the previous evening. It was unlike him to have spent so much time moping in the preceding week, and your unexpected arrival had jarred him into a state of productivity. Re-starting his indoor exercise regiment, he decided to make a better “first impression”, jumping in the shower and presenting a clean-shaven business appearance. He didn’t want you to think he was a lush, wiling away the holiday hours and fretting into his Merlot. It’s true the last couple months had been an emotional roller coaster, but there was no better time than the present to turn over a new leaf. Pike looked around the tidied cabin appraisingly. He had already called Triple A, and the local mechanic, to no avail. He’d already been up for four hours and was attempting to quell the nervous restlessness bouncing around inside his chest. Still smarting from his recent romantic escapades, he was well aware that enthusiasm was his downfall. He just couldn’t help himself, and the holidays seemed to intensify his longing. Perhaps he could just enjoy the possibility of a new friendship, and help you on your way to wherever you were going. He gazed over at Buddy who had just finished decorating all of Macy’s in a holiday extravaganza. Rolling up his sleeves with determination, he reasoned there was only one thing left to do in this anxious state. It was time to start baking.

Ever since Pike’s gentle appearance at the door, your heart wouldn't stop hammering in your chest. It had been so long since you made any new friends, let alone someone…from the Art Squad. You mindlessly inhaled the delectable breakfast Pike had assembled, downing the maple flavored cup of coffee in one gulp. What was a girl to do? This wasn’t a real Hallmark Holiday special. This wasn’t “It’s a Wonderful Life” and you weren’t Donna Reed. You were here, on a working vacation, as per your therapist’s recommendation, and Bessie the Hyundai had mercilessly betrayed you on this blustery blizzard Sunday. Firmly grasping your fantasies in one hand you hopped out of bed, determined to double down on your holiday independence. If something seemed too good to be true, it probably was, and you were obviously infringing on Marcus’ Holiday solo expedition. Sorry, Agent Pike, you reprimanded yourself. No getting familiar now, just because he had accidentally seen you in your altogethers. Pull up your big girl snow suit and get back to work! Taking off his large t-shirt you gripped it in your hands, indulging in one final inhale of the woodsy cologne, and flung it onto the bed. Something for the road, you reasoned, hopping back into your pink snowsuit and mustering every ounce of determination you had left. You gazed over at the demolished breakfast, disappointed at your decision to make a quick exit. Compliments to the chef, you pouted, willing yourself to dart down the stairwell, before you changed your mind.

“IamsosorryIinterruptedyourholidayvacayIcantthankyouenoughforthemazingbreakfastandhospitality.HonestlyitssoembarassingthatBessiekonkedoutIamsureIcangiveitanothergo.AndthankyouagainforallofyourhelpAgentPike!”

Pike peaked his head out of the kitchen just in time to see the flurry of pink cascading by him in a tornado of activity, whisking down the stairwell and practically running toward the door.

“Oh watch out for the…!”

If you had paused long enough to see Pike’s fallen countenance at your quick departure you might have anticipated the upcoming results. But grabbing the crowbar on your exit, you flung open the cabin door and nearly fell over the waist high tumult of snow.

“….snow fall!” Pike managed to get out before a clump fell on top of your head poised just beneath the door frame. You had never seen so much snow in all your life. The momentum of your exit catapulted you forward as you fell face first into the soft pillowed blanket of snow. Pike hurried forward, grasping your snow suit around the waist and hoisting you back up to a standing position. You inhaled shakily, icicles stinging your cheeks as your feet slid on top of the snowy dregs. “Steady there, sailor!” Pike laughed, gripping you hard around the waist and pulling you in for an awkward hug. This seemed vaguely reminiscent of your earlier dream, as he reached up to brush some stray snowflakes from your surprised expression. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere for the next 24 hours” he appraised, somewhere between an apology and a suggestion, as you blinked confusedly. “Let’s get you indoors for a second” he surmised, taking in your silence and sliding you back into the cabin’s warmth. He left his hand on your lower back for a bit longer than was absolutely necessary, making sure you had your sea legs and then give you a quick wink before heading back into the kitchen.

“I already called Triple A and the mechanic down the hill, but you’re welcome to ring them as well” he called from the kitchen, returning to his task at hand. You shook your head violently from side to side. So much for Barbie’s break for independence, you scoffed, looking over at the flickering television screen and Zooey Deschanel singing in the shower. Maybe this wasn’t a situation you could easily run from.

“How did those pancakes treat ya?” he inquired, grabbing a nearby apron that said “Who Needs a Hug?” and pulling a cookie sheet out of the oven. Momentarily stunned into silence you tried to get your bearings in the midst of this snowy quandary. Your Arts and Crafts Girl Scout Training hadn’t prepared you for this particular scenario, but you were an independent gal, with brains and boobs. Time to rally your wits and try anew.

“Um…the pancakes were absolutely amazing” you confessed, watching Pike beam with pride and pour you another cup of coffee in the interim. “Are you starting a bed and breakfast anytime soon?’ you teased, pulling your snowsuit hood back down and taking the coffee from him.

“I think I’m gonna need better hosting skills for that to happen” he apologized with chagrin. “I’m not sure you were catching me at my best last night” the pained expression on his face, softened your resolve as you plopped down at the dining room table huffily.

“Maybe we have a do-over this morning, I’m not sure either of us were on our best behavior” you gulped down your second cup of joe as Pike set down the cookie tray and outstretched his hand.

“I’m Marcus Pike from the Art Squad in Sacramento, and you are?”

You took his hand warmly, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m snow time Barbie, I come with props, though there have been some factory disputes regarding my somewhat defunct Hyundai.” Pike smiled broadly in acknowledgement, returning to his baking. 

“Sounds like Pike’s Place is just the spot for you”.

You and Pike feel into an easy rapport for the next hour, chatting about holiday plans run amok, recent work challenges and options for your car’s retrieval. After some digging on your part you confirmed that all nearby resources were in the lurch and you’d be forced to spend at least the next 24 hours at “Pike’s Place” whether he wanted you to or not. Downing a glass of cold milk, Pike patted his stomach with contentment.

“I think I’ve probably eaten enough chocolate chip cookies for the both of us”, he laughed, returning your coffee mug to the sink and starting the dishes. “Do you wanna watch a movie while we wait out the storm? I think I already offered, but there IS hot chocolate…”.

You paused reflexively catching yourself in a Cheshire like grin. You hadn’t even been hesitant the last hour, revealing parts of yourself that had stayed hidden for the last several years, and being unaccustomed to that level of intimacy, started experiencing an emotional hangover of sorts. Your face literally hurt from smiling so much, but what did you really know about Marcus? Agent. Pike. This was a lot to process in a short amount of time, and the walls of the cabin started to feel just a bit more oppressive in retrospect. The fire roared loudly from the hearth as you back pedaled slightly. 

“Um, is it possible to use your laptop for some work, maybe? I AM supposed to be on a working vacation…” you ventured, attempting to reboot to something a bit more neutral.

“Come on, you don’t need to work on a Sunday!” Pike teased from the kitchen.

“Well, you don’t really know me very well, do you?” the sentence escaped your lips before you had a chance to consider the ramifications. The mood immediately shifted from the cozy camaraderie you had been experiencing to a blizzard like cold.

“I guess that’s true…” Pike stalled, wondering in the tonality shift. “But I’d…like the chance…if you have time…” he trailed off, unsure of his direction.

You kind of stopped breathing for a second, grappling with the many emotions fighting for your attention. What was going on? Once again your snow suit seemed hotter than ever as you picked at the cuticles on your nails. Had you actually forgotten how to interact with other humans? Did the pandemic really fuck you up so much you couldn’t even consider the possibility that someone might actually like you, without some sort of hidden agenda?

“I can come up with lots of activities!” Pike tried to brighten the mood again. “I think we’ve got Twister…uh…cards…puzzles? Oooh, maybe we could make some snowflakes out of newspaper!” he piped up over the clanging dishes.

“Snowflakes?” you uttered, incredulously. “Are you kidding, Art Squad? This isn’t a daycare, I actually have some work I need to get done…”

“Oh. Right.” Pike stuttered, returning to the dishes. The silence stretched out awkwardly before you, as you gazed at his broad back and now hunched shoulders. Outside of his gaze you bit your lower lip with embarrassment. Where did that come from? No wonder you hadn’t dated anyone in years. Bitch. I don’t deserve somebody like Pike, you rationalized, suddenly very aware of your limitations, both without and within. You felt your eyes welling up with tears unexpectedly.

“I mean, if that’s okay with you…” you stumbled forward politely, trying to assemble your emotions one at a time. Get in a line, motherfuckers, you chided. You’re a guest, you’re stranded and you have nowhere else to go. Just because you’re alone on the holidays doesn’t mean you have to take it out on Mar…on Agent Pike.

Pike cleared his throat, softening his expression slightly. “Sure, just check the briefcase over there in the study” he muttered, trying to focus on the dishes. You quietly stood up, heading over to the side room and quickly caught sight of his briefcase. Popping open the metal latches, his laptop thunked to the bottom as you caught sight of several manilla folders and a small photo of a smiling woman with kind, brown eyes.

Uh oh. The ex.

You picked up the photo hesitatingly, as though rummaging around through his underwear drawer. I wonder if he wears boxers of briefs? Oh shut up, Barbie. You swallowed hard, wondering at the circumstances you both found yourselves in. You truly believed everyone was just doing their best. You didn’t have the copyright on injustice or personal heartache. It wasn’t easy to make changes or move in a new direction, but Pike was trying to move on, and he didn’t need your insecurities or relative isolation clouding his own. Get it together woman, you resolved. You can do better than this. Make a plan to get yourself out of this situation and leave Agent Pike to his own healing. Heaven’s knows you’re not put together enough to warrant his attentions. You stifled a small sniffle, feeling that all too familiar lump in your throat rising to the surface. Grabbing the laptop you returned to the living room, determined to make a better representation of yourself, but found the setting completely still.

Agent Pike did seem like a fantastical figment of your imagination, but even the Art Squad couldn’t evaporate into thin air. Your heart sank, realizing how alone you might truly be if not for the safety of the cabin and Pike’s warm disposition. Did you really just ruin things from the get go? Sitting quietly at the dining room table you had just haltingly opened the laptop when Pike lumbered down the stairs in a winter jacket and heavy snow boots.

“Be right back” he muttered, flinging the door wide open and shutting it abruptly behind  him. He continued, wading through the waist high snow to a nearby woodshed.

Mouth ajar, you peered out the snowy window to see him retrieve a snow shovel and begin barreling towards Bessie with decided purpose. Your lip quivered with emotion as a single, unbidden tear found its way down your cheek, pattering to the floor. Jesus, you can’t even manage one day with a perfect specimen like Marcus, how were you ever going to make it work with anyone in this state of mind, particularly during the holidays? Sigh. You returned to the dining room table awash with defeat. Agent Pike. His name is Agent Pike.

Pike allowed the cold sting of the snowy tundra to purify his meandering thoughts as he drove a hard line to Bessie the Hyundai. This is a test, Pike, hegrunted with effort, flinging powdery snow to either side, making quick work of his hundred foot task. When faced with temptation are you going to take the path of least resistance or are you going to man up and admit the truth? Pike paused to catch his breath looking back at the cozy cabin and billowing plumes of smoke chugging from the happy chimney. What truth? He coughed heartily, watching his breath blossom in the cold air. It’s time to start thinking realistically, and without entitlement. This woman doesn’t owe you anything, and the most important thing you can do is get her back on the road to relative safety. And maybe pack some chocolate chip cookies for the road, he nodded with resolve. Are you a man of the law, or not? Now get crackin’…He started shoveling like a man possessed, determined to carve a quick path to Bessie and get you back on the road as soon as possible. No time for love, Pike. It’s the holidays. Get ‘er done.

Now faced with the relative silence of the roaring fire you sat silently in front of the blinking cursor. Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. Your eyes blinked back the tears that were starting to crowd your vision. WHY was it always so damn hot in here??? You unzipped the top portion of your snow suit, perspiration dotting your chest and sparkly pink lingerie. Something about your relative inability and helplessness had you needlessly lashing out at poor Pike. That lump in your throat tightened exponentially as you attempted to bulldoze through some work emails. Pike was right, you don’t need to do anything on a Sunday. Who were you kidding? Pike was so friendly and unassuming, he reminded you of all your need and loneliness. You paused to consider the warmth radiating from his entire personhood. JEEEESUS it was warm, you aggressively pulled your arms out of the snow suit, bunching it at your waist and wiping a film of sweat from your brow. If you didn’t learn how to bite your tongue you were gonna end up completely alone for the rest of your life. The tears started running down your face indiscriminately as you looked over at James Caan, chewing out Buddy the Elf for his holiday enthusiasm. You could really use that hot chocolate right now…IF IT WASN’T SO DAMN HOT!!! You blew a strand of hair out of your face as the front door flung open, a blast of cold air rippling through the cabin refreshingly.

Jumping to your feet with resolve you just managed to shout, “I’M SORRY!”…before the snow suit slipped to the floor around your ankles.

Pike stood poised with your luggage in one hand and snow shovel in the other before it clattered loudly to the floor. He gulped loudly, unsure of where he should be looking, as the corners of his mouth twitched upward in delight.

You pursed your lips comedically, unwilling to lose any ground at this point, and authoritatively placed your hands on your hips. And why not? You work out. Half the population has boobs, and the other half wants them, so there’s nothing new under the sun. You giggled a bit attempting to proceed, “I would like to apologize!”

“You would????” Pike bellowed, dropping your luggage next, nearly tripping over it as he slammed the door shut.

“Yes I would!” you shouted back, now covering your mid-drift section and shivering ever so slightly. “I’m sorry I’m being ridiculous…” you tried to subtly slide downward pulling the snow suit back up around you. “It’s been a long time since I’ve…felt…feelings” you meandered forward, unsure of how to articulate your own confusion. “I’m just used to being alone, and fixing things on my own and…I apologize” you reiterated, zipping the snow suit back up and vowing to change into normal clothes ASAP.

Pike sighed with relief, nodding his head in acknowledgement. “There’s nothing to apologize for” he sighed. “I always come on too strong with people I like” he paused abruptly, waiting on your response. “And…I do like the color pink” he chuckled, unzipping his winter coat and kicking off the powdery lumps of snow from his boots.

“I would like to make it up to you” you pondered, as Pike froze with curiosity.

“How?” he whispered, immediately tightening his lips with restraint. “I mean, what exactly did you have in mind?”

Having both changed into a more cozy pair of pajamas you emerged from the kitchen, now wearing the aforementioned apron and balancing two plates of pasta in your outstretched arms. “Do we dare open another bottle of Merlot?” you teased, rounding the corner and gesturing to the coffee table in front of you. “Elf” had restarted for the AMC marathon and Pike grinned expectantly at the culinary offering.

“I’m game if you are” he rose to take the plates from your grasp as you returned to the kitchen to locate a new bottle and two wine glasses. You pushed the memory of your earlier dream to the side, content with the new friendship you had forged with your unlikely hero. Bessie was still anchored firmly in the tundra, as a new wave of snow lightly feathered down on the cozy cottage. It was going to be at least 48 hours or more until you could attempt another winter escape. But currently, that didn’t seem quite as oppressive as it once did, a loud pop resounding from the kitchen as you uncorked the Merlot pouring its heady aroma into the wine glasses before you. You padded into the living room, noting your matching gray sweatpants. Pike beamed with anticipation as you sat across from him, offering a glass of congratulations.

“Thanks for bringing in my luggage, I really don’t know what I would have done without your assistance” you toasted him with celebration, enjoying the light clink of your glasses touching rims.

“It was my pleasure” Pike returned, drawing the glass up to his mouth, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I don’t think I’m the best cook, so it’s lucky your last Instacart order arrived when it did. I think we might be stuck here for the indefinite future” you worried, however secretly enthusiastic at the turn of events.

“This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship” he surmised, licking his lips pointedly and clinking glasses once again.

Happy holidays, you smirked, as the wind blustered outside. Happy holidays, indeed.

*thanks @unknown-till for the cool dividers

Pike's Place The Holiday

A huge thank you to @burntheedges for a fun Roll-a-Trope Challenge that has turned into a slow burn, snowed in Winter Series. I have @inept-the-magnificent to thank for all their encouragements and outline rec's!

Triggers: Tipsy Pike (cutest ever), slight profanity, sexy thoughts, accidental lingerie (?), discussions of ex, stranded car trouble, discussion of pandemic...

Series Masterlist

You stood, poised with crowbar and cell phone in hand, watching the adorable, pink-cheeked man in front of you swaying ever so slightly. “How can I help you?’ his voice comedically cracked at the end, as the tv meandered on with Jimmy Stewart’s countenance flickering before you. Still shivering slightly from the cold your explanation cascaded forth, somewhat unhinged, 

“ImeansincethepandemicIcanttellifImcomingorgoing.Itsbeenalongroadmethaphoricallyliterallysexuallyspiritually.OfcoursenotallwhowanderarelostbutthisgalisasIcantfindmyAirbnb.BessiekonkedoutonthesideoftheroadcouldIuseyourlandline?”

You stood huffing slightly from the minimal hike, atmospheric cold and rambling monologue, which seemed to have no affect on your clueless cabin mate. He stood irresolute except for a slight waver that betrayed his intoxicated state. Feeling more awkward by the second you glanced around the room for any sign of life, noticing a small lanyard by the door that stated, “Agent Pike; Art Squad”, featuring a clean shaven version of the business lumberjack in front of you. If this man was a threat, he was certainly masking it well. You were the one holding a crowbar and crashing his tipsy Christmas extravaganza. A pang of guilt flashed through you as you realized the silence was stretching into an eternity. Agent Pike might be cutting quite the cozy figure, but you were starting to feel like Winter Barbie in your pink snow suit, complete with crow bar and cell phone props. All you needed was the Pink Corvette and you could leave this sweet man alone for the holidays…

Pike blinked confusedly as his eyes focused in and out on the vision in front of him. Was he hallucinating? One minute he had been enjoying a bottle of red, and commiserating with Jimmy Stewart. The next second a pink snow bunny had materialized on his snow-bidden doorstep and was propositioning him with a crowbar and cell phone. Merry Christmas? He swallowed dryly, pink cotton candy between his ears, static in his vision. This must be a mistake, have I finally summoned love itself, he wondered? Was he saying anything? Am I saying anything? Time seemed to be moving in liquid droplets, or lightly falling snow. He was cold. He was hot. He was confused. He was drunk? Why was he wearing a suit jacket? The pink vision was talking to him in lilting tones, but he couldn’t concentrate, focusing on her sparkly eyes and curving body. Clearing his throat, he decided to reboot.

“How can I help you?” he repeated dumbly, attempting to stifle a small unbidden hiccup. Pike stumbled slightly, chuckling to himself…

You lurched forward in a pink swirl of energy, attempting to grab his hand and finding it impossible with a crow bar and cell phone. “Whoa, steady there, Agent! You okay?”

His eyelids were now half closed as he grinned dopily, “Sorry, I feel like I might bump into you. Guess that red rrreally packed a punch…” he swung loosely, poking you in the ribs eliciting a small shiver of surprise. You set the crowbar down on the nearby table and pocketed your cell phone. 

“I’m sorry, I’m totally disrupting your holiday celebration…with your family?…” you ventured a curiosity, catching another glance at his comfy gray sweatpants and wondering what lay beneath. Swatting the thought away, you held him by the wrists lightly as he swayed like a dandelion in the wind, attempting to catch sight of a…non-existent ring.

“Just me” he grinned, though it bordered on a whimper that caught in his throat, as his forehead scrunched in concern. “All alone on the holidays…” he trailed off, nearly to himself.

Oh my gawd. Did I just fall in love? Your eyebrows shot up to your forehead in surprise, looking over at the dwindling fire and near finished bottle of red. Gosh, maybe you weren’t the only one feeling lonely this holiday season. After the pandemic it seemed as though the world had moved on without you, but maybe there were some others feeling a little left behind. You pouted sympathetically, wondering if you had found a kindred spirit.

“Come on, let’s get you situated here…” you easily led him to the couch as he collapsed unceremoniously in a heap, sighing heavily. Of course, it might have been bravado on your part, but this guy did seem to be a security agent of some kind, and he certainly wasn’t a pressing danger in this state. You looked over at his forlorn grin as he rubbed his socked feet together like a cricket. Heaving a sigh of relief, you plopped down on the couch next to him, trying to figure out your next steps. You looked around the small cabin. Nobody had a landline anymore, and even if they did, who was gonna be able to reach you at this time of night, in a snow storm? 

“You’re stuck!” he exclaimed, pointing a finger as though divining the truth you had uttered mere seconds ago. You smiled broadly, feeling yourself melt into the couch. This was going to be a problem.

“Yes, Detective, that is correct” you grinned, looking around the room for one final scavenging hunt before giving up completely. “My car isn’t moving another foot and apparently neither am I”.

He nodded appraisingly as though clairvoyant, “I thought asz much” he slurred slightly, trying to gather his bearings, and sitting up a bit to focus. “I’m not a detective, but I notice stuff” he kept nodding and gave you a little wink. You pursed your lips together in amusement. I mean, you WERE crashing his solo holiday celebration, but damned if you weren’t already smitten with Agent Pike.

“I mean, I don’t notice EV-E-R-Y-THING” he emphasized every syllable dramatically, not attempting to stifle the next hiccup. “My girlfriend (hiccup)…”

Your stomach lurched forward, unsure where his sentence was headed…

“…left me for another guy”.

You tried to hide your guilty enthusiasm with a sympathetic pout.

“S’okay” he waved his hands in front of him, nearly knocking over the wine bottle in the process. “I moved waaaaaay too fasst. But no more. Nope. Not for me (hiccup). I’mma just go it alooooone…” he trailed off, blinking rapidly. “Drinkss?” he gestured broadly, nearly knocking over the wine bottle again, which he punctuated with a hiccup. “S-sorry I stoods up a little fast. Too fast…” he trailed off again pouring the remaining dregs into his glass.

You sniffled with emotion or congestion watching this puppy dog of a man unravel in front of you. “Why can’t I find somebody like you?” you whispered, eyes widening to the shape of saucers, chagrined that your inner monologue had somehow materialized outward.

“What?” he hiccuped, offering you the now empty wine bottle. You took it from his hands gently. “Okay, last round Agent Pike” you smirked, wondering at this enigmatic turn of events. Transparently you marveled at your miraculously good fortune, but at what cost? You found yourself snowed in, with a teddy bear of a guy, who was apparently nursing a broken heart, and yours had yet to start beating again. You twiddled your thumbs nervously, wary to share too much information. But drawn magnetically forward by his warm gaze, you decided to hazard the harsh truth. He won’t even remember this conversation tomorrow anyways, you rationalized.

Pike was squinting hard to try to cement every detail into his memory. If this was how he met his wife, he wanted to remember the moment it happened. That was stupid. She’d have to be his fiancé first. He shook his head slightly attempting to clear it of cobwebs. Why can’t you be a normal human and just start with a date, you imbecile. That’s ridiculous, you can’t go on a date out in the wilderness. She might not even be single. I wonder how many children she wants, the thoughts floated through his mind unrequested. Listen to what she’s saying you idiot, he chastised himself. You’re an officer of the law, Pike, get it together. He tried to sip his wine introspectively, quickly becoming aware that was intensifying his intoxication. Whatever you do, just take it slow, Pike. Don’t rush in like last time. The last thing women want is someone moving too fast and making assumptions that aren’t real. This gal finds herself in a tight pinch, and all you’re going to do is make sure she gets home in one piece. He found himself staring at your lips as they moved fluidly, wondering how they might feel….Hot damn, shut up, Pike! You’re already muddled enough, just keep your thoughts to yourself and don’t say anything stupid. She’s pretty. He shifted with slight discomfort noticing the tell-tale pinching feeling between his legs. For that matter, just don’t do or say anything at all. Robot. You’re a robot. You don’t think, you don’t feel anything.

“It’s nice to talk to a real human” you began, unsure of how much to share and what to omit. “I’ve been working from home a lot, and sometimes it seems like the world just keeps getting smaller and smaller”.

He nodded his head imploringly, holding the wine glass between his lips like a sippy cup. You almost couldn’t help yourself. There was something about this man that probably charmed everyone to his gentle personality, but you didn’t care. It had been so long since you had anyone listen to you, particularly someone in gray sweatpants. You found yourself melting like a snow…woman into the couch, assured that he somehow understood what you were talking about. Just two people. Lamenting the lamentable. Sobbing into their Christmas cookies. The holidays SUCK. Donna Reed caught your eye as she ran the down the street from Jimmy Stewart’s passionate advances. You rolled your eyes in annoyance, still hoping they ended up together. Horror upon horror, “Mary Hatch” was a librarian and a SPINSTER! Sigh. If she had lived during the 21st century things you probably would have been buddies. But alas, she was in the 1940’s and you were in the 20 somethings. She was a fictional character and you were as real as it gets. She was wearing a snood. And you were in a pink snow suit.

He sloppily reached out to grab your knee. “I know!” he nearly shouted, nodding like a bobble head.

You giggled slightly, mostly to keep from crying, but you felt the emotion bubble up within you nonetheless. You hadn’t even voiced the hurt to yourself, so speaking it into existence was a bit harder than you anticipated. The fire crackled in the hearth warmly, adding a softness to the moment that floated hazily in the room. You began to notice how hot everything had become, staring into his eyes as they drifted lazily in and out of focus.

“I haven’t even….dated anyone since the pandemic…” your voice nearly disappeared, shocked you were sharing this information with a man you had suspected of being a serial killer but 20 minutes earlier.

“Oh nooo” he lamented, tipping his head sideways on to the couch and turning his body towards you. “Well, you’re not missing anyone… No, that’s not right (hiccup). I’m sorry. Men are dumb” he paused, suddenly befuddled in his buzzing state that he had said too much. “Or women? Women are dumb!” he cringed, trying to blearily ascertain the situation, now growing concerned that he had misread the signs AND insulted you.

You grinned again, appreciative of his awareness even in an intoxicated state. “Yes, well women can be stupid too, but boyfriends take the cake” you huffed. Taking special notice of the amber flecks in the pooling brown of his eyes, you tilted your head to meet his. “At some point, it really does seem easier to just go it alone”. Damn, why was it so hot in here? Peri-menopause ought to be a few years off for Christ’s sake. You looked over at the crackling fire.

“I guess it’s my own fault” you slid the zipper of your snow suit down, dabbing at the perspiration on your neck and overheating in more ways than one. “Somehow I just became more and more isolated as time progressed” your lower lip wobbled unexpectedly, surprising even you. “I wish I could be more relaxed. More forward. Much like Bessie the Hyundai, I have a tendency to move as slow as molasses”. You looked over at his doe like countenance, as he had apparently drained the final dregs of his wine glass and was looking pointedly at your chest. He gulped dryly, raising his eyes to meet yours.

Oops. You glanced down at your unzipped snow suit, suddenly remembering there wasn’t much beneath. A sparkly pink bra and matching underwear had most assuredly caught his attention, but had slipped yours. Coughing slightly, you slid the zipper back up just enough to showcase your burgeoning cleavage. His brain seemed to have short circuited as you winced with embarrassment. 

Marry me, he thought. Shut up, Pike! Did you not learn your lesson in Sacramento? This isn’t some cinematic, sappy movie that you’re watching on AMC! You’re an agent for God’s sakes! Man of the law. He licked his lips dryly wondering who had drunk all of the wine. I’m just a hopeless romantic, emphasis on the hopeless part, he drolled to himself. Just a lone wolf. I wonder what her lips taste like. Shhh! Lonely wolf. Awwwooooo! He stifled a wine-fiiled giggle..

About three things you were absolutely positive. Number one, Agent Pike was the most adorable non-serial killer you had ever met. Second, there was a part of him, and you didn’t know how potent that part might be, was ogling your…snow suit. And third…you seemed to have no problem with it whatsoever.

“I think you’re a hero” he hiccuped, holding his now empty wine glass up in a toast. His eyes were twinkling as a stray lock of hair dangled in front of his chocolate colored eyes. Puffing his cheeks to blow the strand away, you mercifully reached up to draw it back into place.

“I’m a hero, Agent Pike?” 

“Yeaaaaah” he drawled, then sitting up suddenly in a burst of focused energy. “You must be the heroine of your own story!” he looked like he was about to stand up and deliver a speech, so you positioned both hands on his quads to calm the situation.

“Okayeeee Pike. I think if it’s okay with you I can bunk here for the evening, and come morning I can call Triple A and see about getting a tow. Does that sound okay to you Agent?” you gazed at him curiously as he swayed slightly, still grinning.

“There’s hot chocolate” he offered, somewhat randomly, but helpful nonetheless. “You can call me Mr. Pike if you want (hiccup). I mean Mr. Marcus…M-M-arcus…” he mumbled adorably.

“Thank you for the hot chocolate, Mr. Marcus” you offered sweetly, noticing that your hands were still cemented to his broad thighs. You wiggled your fingers slightly, in a near out of body experience, as he remained intoxicatingly unawares.

“We can finish the movie!” he exclaimed. “I’ll take the couch!” he hiccuped, lying back with contentment as you took the wine glass out of his hand gently. “I wanna hear it!” he chanted “I’m the hero of my own story!!!” he repeated, grabbing the remote to unmute the tv and then closing his eyes serenely.

“You’re the hero of my story” you absentmindedly repeated, noticing the next movie “The Holiday” had started twinkling before you. You gazed at the small staircase leading up to a possible bedroom for the night. This certainly was not the way you had anticipated your adventure starting, but perhaps Agent Pike was going to be the Christmas gift you never expected, but always deserved. All that remained was to see if you could let yourself receive it, before the Christmas Miracle evaporated. The familiar opening melody of “The Holiday” began as you looked over to notice small snuffles and light snores drift from Pike’s plush lips, made pink in the flickering fire-light. Art Squad indeed, you marveled, finally able to get a glance at his aquiline nose and gentle profile. Your eyes drifted over his broad chest, soft stomach and cozy gray sweat pants. Holding your hands firmly in your lap, you drew yourself up to grab the nearest chunky blanket and tuck him in. Taking an indulgent moment to lightly draw your fingertips over his frame, you thought you caught the lightest whisper of, “Love you, honey” before he slipped back into a wine-soaked slumber. 

Oh my, this WAS going to be a problem, you smiled, shutting off the tv, and padding up the stairs to find your bedding for the evening.

Merry Christmas to us all, and to all a good night…

*thanks @samspenandsword for the dividers!

Pike's Place Roll-a-Trope Challenge

I fell hard for these two, in an unexpected way. It wasn't until @burntheedges "Roll-a-Trope Challenge" that I managed to really sink my teeth into this delectable winter treat. Since y'all love them as much as I do, I've completed a slow burn Winter Series with the assist of @inept-the-magnificent!

Triggers: profanity, car trouble in snow storm, heartbreak, discussions of pandemic, slightly tipsy Pike, mostly fluffernutter...

Episode One: It's a Wonderful Life Episode Two: The Holiday Episode Three: Elf Episode Four: A Christmas Story Episode Five: Nightmare Before Xmas Episode Six: Love Actually Episode Seven: Die Hard Episode Eight; When Harry Met Sally

Shorts

A Christmas Confection Pedge Tweets WIP Poll Pike's Place PIke's Picture

The windshield wipers were beating at the same flurried pace as your heartbeat as you gripped the steering wheel fixedly. Looking out at the swirling flurries of wind and snow your skin began to take on the same pallid white quality as your eyes darted furiously across the pristine landscape. California Girl, you sulked, huffing heavily in frustration.

WHY had you listened to your therapist? This was the most asinine, ridiculous escapade yet, as you watched the fuel gauge dipping lower and lower. It had been the strangest of four years, shifting from the pandemic, to working from home, to becoming more and more isolated every day. Watching your world get increasingly smaller, and feeling helpless to do anything about it. Pre-pandemic you had already felt isolated, and after four years of relative solitude you had almost become accustomed to the depravation. Almost. So, what had your therapist recommended? A change in scenery. Get out more! Feeling depressed about the holidays? Grab a few sweaters, a bottle of Merlot and take your emotional baggage with you! You scoffed with self-deprecation, wondering if a death by blizzard would be quite as cinematic as it sounded in your romance novels. Snagging a last minute Big Bear Airbnb had been easy this week before Christmas, but finding it was proving a bit more challenging. Good Old Bessie the Hyundai had limped along for years, but the heater had long since sputtered into a quick demise. Not a real problem in California, until now, you reasoned, thankful you had dressed in a head to toe snowsuit from your East Coast college days. Quite honestly, you were surprised it still fit, but you were steadily growing more and more aware that your Girl Scout training from childhood did not prepare you for a snow-pocalypse, regardless of how fashionable you were.

Straining to see any signs of civilization you thought you caught a small flickering beam of light, as you groaned upon hearing the tell-tales signs of impending doom. That metallic clicking sound had only intensified and it was just a matter of time before…BOOM!…a small popping sound backfired into the snowy stillness as gears shifted and ground to a halt, bringing Bessie to her final resting place in the glassy tundra.

Welp. So ends the life of J. A small death, for a small person…you rolled your eyes dramatically. Get a grip woman. You didn’t get 56 Scout Badges in Arts and Crafts to merely lie down on the ground singing “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman”. Live! Live goddamit! You smirked, weighing your options. Cell phone coverage was dotty at best. You could wait for a philanthropic passerby, but it was a week before Christmas, and you hadn’t seen one car on the precarious drive here. Wherever here was.  Watching the steady stream of soft snow cascading onto your windshield you re-assessed that flickering beam of light before you. You MUST be hallucinating, but it seemed like a small cabin with puffs of smoke billowing from a chimney of some kind. It was a fuckin’ Norman Rockwell painting for heaven’s sakes. Or “Misery”. You pulled the snowsuit hood up over your head and took a big breath. Only one way to find out.

After trudging the 100 or so feet from Bessie to Norman Rockwell, you were trying to cast a foreboding figure, though this was proving difficult in a hot pink snowsuit from the 90’s. You confidently held a crowbar and cell phone in either hand, delusional that this would be off putting to a potential serial killer. At least you would look fabulous in the Real Life Crimes Documentary, you rationalized, banging on the door with your crowbar and attempting to seem simultaneously friendly and capable. Your teeth were chattering together with anticipation or cold, as you thought you heard a rustling sound behind the wooden door. You plastered a frozen smile on your face, hopeful the occupant wouldn’t ignore Elle Woods in the woods, as the door flung open violently to reveal...

Happy Holidays, Pike. Marcus grumbled to himself, pouring another glass of red wine and swallowing a coal lump of annoyance. Was this really the best idea? he wondered, settling in for the Christmas Movie Marathon on AMC. If he was trying to get over a heartbreak, he wasn’t sure “It’s a Wonderful Life” and a bottle of red was the way to do that, but in a blizzard there were only so many options. Fresh from his disappointment of the moment he bit his lower lip, watching George Bailey drunkenly meander around snowy Bedford Falls, on the hunt for redemption. He looked over at the sorry state of affairs in the kitchen, as piles of Thai Food containers dotted the landscape, thanks to a week of DoorDash and Instacart. How had he arrived at this pathetic excuse of a Christmas? Hoping to clear his mind of women altogether, he had settled on berating himself for constantly falling in love at the drop of a pin. Okay, he was a romantic, he frowned with irritation. And why not? He was on the Art Squad, he wasn’t Rambo. He wriggled his socked feet, thankful for the fire in the fireplace and nodding at George Bailey’s plight. That’s right, Jimmy Stewart, maybe it’s better to just go it alone. Not everyone has a Donna Reed. You can’t just expect love to show up on your doorstep, it’s better to think realistically and recognize your own limitations. George Bailey dangled precariously over the Bedford Falls Bridge, watching the snow fall into the murky depths. Just a couple more steps and….

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Pike jumped about a foot, as George Bailey paused to notice Clarence the Angel jump into the waters before him. What was that?

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Pike sat up, adrenaline coursing through his slightly intoxicated frame, gripping his chest with surprise. Was someone knocking at the door? Who could possibly be wandering around in a blizzard? He took a quick glance at his somewhat disheveled state, stubbling beard, gray sweatpants and thread bare white t-shirt. No time to clean things up, he scoffed, stumbling to his feet and flinging the door open to find…

Hello gorgeous. A pair of saucer shaped brown eyes blinked back at you, as you stood poised between crow bar and cell phone. “Howdy!” you shouted, quite a bit louder than anticipated watching his face register several emotions simultaneously, gulping in surprise.

Howdy? What the fuck? Were you Annie Oakley? Your eyes quickly took in the situation, eyeing his broad frame, gray sweatpants and patchy beard. This was the cutest serial killer you had ever met, you smirked, shaking the sexy thoughts out of your mind as quickly as they entered. “Sorry to bother you this fine holiday season…”

What the fuck was going on? Had you forgotten how to speak to other humans? You sounded like a character from an old film noir. Willing yourself to act normally you continued, “My car is konked out on the side of the road, and I wondered if I could use your…landline, sir?”. Okay. Stop talking. Stop with the words. You held your breath attempting to appear…like anything other than your awkward self. Apparently you had rendered this hunk of a man temporarily speechless. He was probably mortified at your inability to string together a sentence with two hands and a crowbar, but the silence began to stretch in front of you. A reddish tint bronzed his adorable cheeks as his eyes registered surprise, delight, confusion, irritation? There seemed to be a lot happening in this moment of indecision but speaking wasn’t one of them. You shifted with discomfort, licking your chapped lips and chattering loudly.

“Oh my gawd, yes!” he finally bellowed, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into the warming living room and slamming the door behind you. Flakes of snow were dotting your eyelashes but you thought you caught the broadest of smiles immediately hidden by a facade of a frown. 

“Uh, please, make yourself at home…miss” he countered, running to mute the television and tidy up slightly. You took the moment to gather as much information as you could, gazing at Jimmy Stewart’s flickering countenance. Seemed like you had burst onto a cozy, Christmas Hallmark movie for one. Tipping your snowsuit hood off and shaking like a golden retriever you watched the gray sweatpants dart into the kitchen, as he wiped food containers into the trash bin with a long sweep of his forearm. 

Glancing over at the side table you noticed a badge of some kind and a lanyard that read “Agent Pike: Art Squad”, featuring a smiling, clean shaven version of the business lumberjack you saw before you. He grabbed a suit jacket strewn over the kitchen chair and returned to look at you, wide eyed and confused. Cutting quite the figure in gray sweat pants, fuzzy socks and suit jacket, you plastered your lips together to avoid giggling. Alright, this Crime Documentary was progressing just fine, you found yourself with the helpful detective, not the serial killer, after all. He bit his cheek with embarrassment, taking a final helpless look around the living room. “How can I help you?” his voice cracked comedically.

Oh I can think of a few ways, you scandalously surmised, wondering if your holidays were starting to improve. Maybe this was going to be a Christmas gift neither one of you would soon forget…

Thank you @unknown-till for the cool winter dividers!