Chapter Text
A/N: Here it is, folks! The first chapter of the very first ever collaboration by LemonSupreme & romeokijai! :D We are so excited to share this story with you. We're having a lot of fun working on it and hope you enjoy reading it. And we wish all of you a very Merry Christmas!
Charlie Matheson rolls her eyes. She’s been doing a lot of that for the past ten minutes while she stands in the middle of her dorm room, cell phone stuck to her ear, listening to her mother drone on about the terrible snowstorm that has recently hit their hometown of Appleton, Wisconsin. Something about the Interstate 90 being closed and alternate routes being out of the question and if only they’d bought Charlie a better car because that damn little Volkswagen just won’t do in this blizzard and….
Charlie sighs and glances out her window. The skies are a murky, grayish white and it’s snowing, sure, but only lightly - nothing at all like what Rachel is describing. Then again, this is Chicago. Maybe the storm hasn’t moved this far south yet, and who knows if it even will?
“…so, we think it’s best if you stay in Chicago over break,” Rachel concludes.
The finality in her mother’s voice causes Charlie to freeze for a moment. Then a puff of appalled laughter leaves her lips. “You’re joking right?”
“No, Sweetie. Your dad and I have been checking the weather reports all afternoon; the roads are getting worse by the minute. We want you home but aren’t willing to risk your safety for one get together.”
“Mom! This isn’t just some get together. We’re talking about Christmas! I don’t care how shitty the roads are, I’m coming home.”
“Charlie.”
“It’s not open for debate. I’m coming home.”
“Listen to your mother, Charlie.” She hears her dad’s stern voice in the background.
She rolls her eyes yet again. “What about Danny? Is he stranded in New York? Will you guys have to spend Christmas by yourselves?”
Rachel is quiet for a moment, which causes Charlie to frown.
“Actually, we talked to him yesterday,” Rachel admits. “He was able to change his flight in time. Got in about an hour ago.”
“Of course he did,” Charlie groans, pushing her fingers through her hair.
“Is there someone you can crash with for the week? So you’re not stuck in the dorms all by yourself on Christmas?”
“Don’t know. But I’ll figure something out, I guess.” She tries not to sound too bitter as she glances around her room, warily eyeing the box of Top Ramen that sits on her bookshelf. She grimaces at the thought of that being her Christmas dinner. “Anyway, I should go. Tell Dad and Danny I’ll miss them.”
“Okay. Sorry you won’t be able to join us, Honey.” Rachel sounds sad. “Trust me, this isn’t how we wanted things to go.”
“Yeah, well....”
“Call if you need anything?”
“Sure. Bye, Mom.”
“Bye, Charlie.”
Charlie ends the call and flops down on her bed with a sigh. Great. Just great.
Outside her door, she can hear some of her neighbors chatting, excitement evident in their voices as they discuss their winter break plans. Most of them mention home cooked meals and comfortable beds and holiday traditions with their families.
Damn Wisconsin winters, Charlie mentally grumbles as she thinks about missing Christmas with her family. She was especially excited about seeing her little brother, whom she hasn’t seen in months. Between the craziness of school and living in two different cities, the communication lately between the two siblings has been sparse.
Maybe the storm will calm down by tomorrow or so, Charlie hopes as she pulls up the latest Appleton weather report on her phone. But her hopes are quickly dashed, and she frowns when she reads about the high speed winds and continued snowfall that’s supposed to move through the area in the coming days.
She’s still staring at her phone when someone knocks on her door.
“It’s open,” she calls, sitting up.
Connor Bennett, her Resident Assistant, cracks open the door and pokes his head inside. His face lights up with a bright smile when he sees her. “Hey, Charlie.”
“Hi, Connor. What’s up?”
“I’m just reminding everyone on the floor that the res hall closes at 6. And I’ll be doing room inspections in about an hour or so.”
“Yeah, about that….”
Charlie’s sour expression gets Connor’s attention. He opens the door a little further and gives her a questioning look.
She sighs. “I just talked to my mom. Apparently, it’s snowing really bad in Wisconsin and my parents are freaking out and don’t want me driving home in the blizzard.”
“Uh…okay?”
“So…I think I’m just going to stay here. Over break.”
Connor raises both eyebrows at her. “Uh, no. You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because the res hall won’t be open. Along with the dining hall and most other campus services. They don’t let people stay here over break unless it’s been prearranged with the Housing Office.”
“Okay. Well, you’re my R.A. Talk to Housing for me?”
“Charlie.” Connor frowns.
“What? You think I want to be stuck here over winter break?”
Connor exhales an exasperated breath and rakes his fingers through his dark brown curls. “Look. Your situation sucks, I get it. And I feel for you. I really do. But you can’t stay here.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t exactly have a lot of other options?”
“Stay with a friend?”
“Most people - or at least anyone I would have considered going home with - are already gone.”
“What about Jason?”
“Neville?!”
“Yeah.” Connor shrugs while trying to hold in a grin. “He’s still here. I just saw him in the hall like ten minutes ago.”
Charlie glowers at her R.A.
“What?” He’s still grinning.
“I am NOT going to ask my EX-BOYFRIEND if I can go home with him for Christmas. Plus, have you met his parents? I am not spending Christmas with them!”
“Okay, fine,” Connor snorts. “So maybe that’s not the best idea.”
“Ya think?” Charlie shakes her head, doing her best to hold in her own smile. She’s well aware that Connor is trying to ruffle her feathers.
He sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Ok, so not Jason. But seriously. You can’t stay in the res hall, Charlie. I feel bad, like I said, but I can’t just give you permission to stay here. Housing won’t be happy if they find out.”
“So don’t tell them?”
Connor leans his head back and groans. “You’re killing me here, Matheson.”
Charlie bites back a smile.
“What about a hotel?”
“Um…yeah, I am not paying for a hotel room.”
“Why not?”
Charlie raises her eyebrows and motions to her surroundings. “‘Cause a) they’re freaking expensive. And b) I already pay for this room, genius.”
Connor rolls his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest. He’s quiet for a while, gaze fixed on the floor while the gears in his head turn. After a while he looks up. “Well…we have an extra room.”
“What?”
“An extra room. At my house.”
Charlie stares at him. Is he serious? He can’t be serious. Connor and Charlie are friends; have been since junior year. She might even consider him a relatively close friend - but not let-me-crash-at-your-house-over-winter-break close.
“It’s no big deal,” he says, as if he’s just read her thoughts. “And we live just a few miles from campus.”
“Who’s we, exactly?”
“Me and my dad. It’s usually just the two of us during the holidays, anyway.”
Charlie frowns. “Connor, that’s really nice of you to offer, but I can’t just intrude like that. Especially during the holidays.”
“What’s to intrude? Dad’s idea of Christmas dinner is usually Chinese take out or a take-n-bake pizza and the NBA Special on TV.”
“How festive,” Charlie chuckles.
“Yeah, and then at some point, he usually drinks too much spiked eggnog and passes out on the couch.”
Charlie smirks and suddenly pictures her Uncle Miles, who is famous among the Mathesons for doing the exact same thing after Christmas dinner. When she and Danny were little, they used to do all sorts of things to him while he slept. Drawing on his face. Putting glitter in his hair. The usual kid mischief.
“So? What do you say?” Connor’s question breaks her from her musings.
“Huh?”
“Winter break at my house? You in?”
“I don’t know.” Charlie chews on her bottom lip. “Think I’d rather just stay here, to be honest.”
“Why? Who wants to spend Christmas here, in this dump? Besides, that’s not even the point. The fact is you can’t stay here. Seriously. As your R.A., I’ll get in trouble if you don’t move out over break.”
“Oh, so that’s what this is really about,” she teases.
He rolls his eyes. “No, Charlie. I’m trying to do a nice thing here.”
“Uh huh,” she challenges, enjoying the annoyance that clouds Connor’s features in response. She enjoys ruffling his feathers just as much as he enjoys ruffling hers.
“Well, it’s either come over, or be homeless for the next few days. Your choice.”
She gives him a skeptical look. “Shouldn’t you at least ask your dad before you invite me over?”
“Why? He won’t care. But, if it makes you feel better….” Connor pulls out his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll text him now and make sure it’s okay.”
---------------
Bass Monroe frowns as he parks his Mercedes in front of the turn of the century Victorian he’s been working on for the past six months, gutting and rebuilding the old home from the bare floorboards up. It was meant to be an easy project. Home remodels usually are. And this one in particular was supposed to give him some breathing room before he started on his next big commercial project for a high end corporate client. Somewhere along the way, though, this project turned into an architect’s nightmare. Between the home owners’ constant indecision about some of Bass’s design choices and the contractors not being able to execute his vision, he’s found himself spending far too much time at this site than should be necessary for a project of this size.
He’s still frowning when he walks through the front door, watching as half the construction crew immediately scurries away - as if the Big, Bad Wolf has just entered their territory.
Bass shakes his head. He’s always considered himself a fairly outgoing and approachable person, so if the crew is running off like a herd of mice, it probably means something’s wrong with the work they’re doing.
Or not doing, Bass realizes as he heads into the room that is supposed to be the kitchen. The room is far from ready. Cabinets aren’t in yet. Bare wires stick out of unfinished outlets. The floor isn’t yet tiled. He stops and points at one of the walls where some men are tearing out dry wall. “What the hell? Wasn’t that wall finished?”
“The owner wanted a bigger pantry, Boss,” Ryan Scanlon, Bass’s right hand man, answers.
“But that’s a bearing wall. We’re looking at another delay. Why didn’t anyone ask me about this?”
Scanlon shifts his weight from one foot the other. “Sorry, Boss. You were in meetings this morning when the call came. The foreman needed direction so I made the call. The owners were clear. They want a bigger pantry more than they want to meet the deadline.”
Bass grits his teeth but then exhales a steadying breath. “Fine. Now, what about the banister in the front hall? I thought the staircase was going to be finished by now.”
Scanlon nods, leading the way through the kitchen and into the great hall beyond. “We’re expecting the banister to arrive later today. There were some issues with customs, but I got that cleared up this morning.”
Bass relaxes slightly, thankful for an assistant like Scanlon. “Thanks for taking care of that.” He’s ready to move on to the other rooms when his phone vibrates. He pulls it from his pocket, reads the text he’s received, and quickly types a response before shoving the phone back in his pocket.
“Everything okay?” Scanlon asks.
“Yeah, just my kid texting me.” He shrugs. “Anyway, let’s go look at the den. I want to check on those built-ins.”
They’re on their way to the den when Bass’s phone buzzes again. He pulls it back out and smirks when he notices who’s calling. “Hey, Brother.”
“Why does it sound like there’s an apocalypse happening behind you?” His best friend Miles snarks from the other end. “What’d you do?”
“I’m on site at a job, you idiot,” Bass chuckles. “And you know, most people just say hello when they make phone calls. Actually, no. Most people don’t even make phone calls. They text.”
“Jesus, not this again,” Miles groans.
“Except you. I mean, can you even text on that big, fat Casio 80s brick phone of yours?”
“I have an iPhone, Dumbass.”
“What?” Bass gasps, feigning shock. “Since when?”
“Since my last upgrade. Nora insisted.”
“Your wife is a good, good woman.”
“That she is.” The smile in Miles’s voice is obvious, even over the phone.
“How is she, by the way?”
“Very pregnant. And cranky as hell.”
“I heard that!” Nora barks from somewhere nearby.
“Shit,” Miles says before shouting back to his wife, “I mean…love you, Honey. Light of my life. Beautiful mother of my child!”
Bass snorts and listens to Miles’s pathetic attempt at placating his wife.
After only semi-succeeding, Miles turns his attention back to Bass. “So, listen. The reason I called is because I’m getting ready to send out your Christmas gifts, and I just wanted to make sure you and your little rugrat will be around to get them. They might not arrive right by Christmas - sorry - but I’m thinking by New Year’s, at the latest.”
“My little rugrat is 22, Miles. You really need to visit Chicago more often. But yeah, we’ll be around.”
“You guys just doing your usual thing?”
“Yeah. Although, this year, we’re apparently going to be a party of three.”
“Oh really?” Miles sounds intrigued.
“Not ‘cause of me,” Bass explains. “Connor’s just having a friend over.”
“Oh.” The intrigue in Miles’s voice turns to disappointment. But then he adds, “Girlfriend, maybe?”
“Nah, just some buddy of his who needed a place to crash over winter break—” Bass is mid-sentence when Scanlon, who’s been patiently waiting for his boss to get off the phone, taps Bass on the shoulder. “Listen, Brother, I gotta go. Need to make sure these morons actually get my designs right. I’ll call you later?”
Miles chuckles. “Sure. Talk to you later.”
“Give Nora my love.”
“Will do.”
Bass ends the call and shoves his phone back in his pocket. He turns to Scanlon. “Alright, so this den.”