It was early evening by the time Jack made it back. The lights were out in the shop, and he hurried along to the alley, already pulling out his keys. Skirting around the parked cars lining the alley, Jack made his way to the back entrance of Kieran's shop. He passed an open door and flinched away at a loud bark of laughter. It sounded like the new salon was throwing a little Christmas party, and it was in full swing.

Jack pulled his attention away from the music to sift through the keys on his keyring. His stomach lurched at the missing spot for his apartment key. He closed his eyes and sighed, reminding himself that he was loaning out his apartment. He hoped Thomas would get a spare to him quickly, so he wouldn't have to explain the situation to Sam. Housing his kidnapper would definitely get him committed, no matter how he spun the narrative.

Inside the backroom, he stamped the slush and grit from his shoes onto the mat and looked around, half-expecting to find Lindsey ready to jump him. He waited a moment, eyes darting around as he hoped to catch her in the act. The only thing that caught his eye was a locket hanging on a cuckoo clock in the corner. A locket that he was pretty sure Linsdey was attached to.

He carefully edged away and up the stairs. Jack wasn't sure how ghosts and haunted objects worked, and he wasn't too keen on finding out. He let out a breath at the top of the stairs, wondering if Kieran had any surprises in store.

A vacuum was running on the other side of the door. Nothing too suspicious, but it still had Jack cautiously poking his head inside before entering.

He was greeted by a large tree sitting in the middle of the room beside the couch. He watched as Kieran vacuumed up stray needles. A living, and now dying, tree seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

Kieran's irritated frown said he felt the same way. He glanced up and smiled helplessly.

Jack set his bag on the floor and stripped off his coat, waiting for Kieran to finish. "You got us a tree?"

"Thomas brought it," Kieran said, shaking his head. He unplugged the vacuum and sighed heavily at its dirt compartment. "I did not agree to this fire hazard, but I won't deny you the tradition of decorating one. I found a box of old ornaments that didn't make it to stock in time. We'll make do with a bedsheet for a tree skirt."

"Okay?" Jack looked from Kieran to the tree and the floor beneath it. A tree skirt would probably be easier to clean up than just the floor. "And Tommy's not here to help decorate?"

"I'm certain he'll make an appearance tomorrow. He mentioned forgetting to bring presents."

What sort of presents would a vampiric druggie bring? He knew what he wanted dibs on. He hoped whatever Thomas had in mind was all legal or, in his mind, legal-adjacent. "If he gives you what looks like paper with psychedelic colors on it, I'm gonna be obligated to turn that into Sam."

"I'll do it myself. My gift to him is not calling in an anonymous tip for the moment."

"That's nice of you?"

Kieran shrugged and moved around the tree to sit on the couch. He pulled open a flap on the box and stared at its contents. "I've made an appointment for him at a rehab clinic," he said quietly. "I'll be paying for it. I have yet to tell him."

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"You're really going through with it?" Jack sat between Kieran and the tree, watching as Kieran pulled out smaller boxes and crumpled up bits of newspaper. There was a fairly large part of him that was eager to start up a tradition of last minute decorating.

"He reeked of artificial cherries," Kieran complained, handing an old box to Jack. "I suppose it's a step in the right direction, but there was also a hint of tequila on his breath. Not as much as I'd been expecting, so there may yet be hope for him."

Jack carefully opened the small box, afraid that the paper itself would deteriorate in his hands. Individually wrapped ornaments sat nestled between tissue paper, and he plucked one the little bundles out, hoping he wasn't about to break something. He had to remind himself that Kieran wouldn't give him something that was irreplaceable or that really mattered. "I can't remember the last time I decorated a tree. Like, literally. I'd say we never celebrated, but Tara has pictures."

"Perhaps you'll remember something as you go along?"

Unwrapping the ornament he held, his fears were swept aside by the fact that it was made of wood. It looked like a child sitting on a sled with a tiny red cotton scarf around its neck, and its paint was a little chipped. He could remember hanging a skier on a branch. "We had wood ones like this," he said, setting the ornament back in the box and pulling out his phone. "They used to be grandma's. We also had a spinny wood thing with candles."

"Oh? Did you celebrate St. Nicholas Day?" Kieran asked. He began unwrapping some of the balls of newspaper, revealing a few mid-century modern ornaments.

Jack paused in his notetaking to look at Kieran in confusion. "I don't know what that is."

"Did you ever receive small presents in your shoes?"

He had vivid memories of putting his shoes out on the porch at night and finding candy and weird little toys in them in the morning. He'd thought he was making it up and never bothered to investigate further. "Wait, that's a thing? That's not just my fucked up memory?"

"It's a lovely little tradition. If you'd like, we could go to a Christkindlmarket next year," Kieran replied with a soft smile. "They run the risk of being crowded, but it may help unlock more memories."

"I don't think Portswain has one." Jack's shoulders slumped in disappointment. It would have been a good idea.

"We could go anywhere that has one."

Anywhere. Anywhere that wasn't Portswain. He couldn't leave. He had to stay put. He had to wait.

Jack swallowed and stared at his phone, his thumbs hovering over the screen. "I'm fine staying here," he said, voice tight. "Maybe just some pictures will help? I'll do that."

"My sweet?"

Jack flinched as Kieran lightly touched his shoulder. "Sorry. Um… Something funny! Y'know how sometimes you find a really good gag gift that you know is gonna get your ass beat, but it's too good to pass up?"

Kieran hummed in thought as a smile slowly formed. "Yes. Although, it was less of a gag gift and more of a 'you cannot prove it' sort of gift. Prohibition had its moments."

Moments that Jack wanted to learn more about. Moments that Thomas would most likely happily spill. "Yeah, so Tara hit my bad arm," he said as he rubbed at his soon-to-be bruise. He grinned at Kieran. "But it was so worth it."

"What did you get her?"

Admitting to the chew toy would bring up too many extra questions. "It's related to a personal inside joke. Not embarrassing, but not exactly something that you share with everyone."

"I won't pry." Kieran stood and eyed the tree and the few ornaments he held. "Did you want to listen to Christmas music or a movie while we do this?"

"Does Die Hard count?" Jack asked, making a final note on his phone. "My dad always said it's a Christmas movie."

"I will gladly agree with your father if it saves me from the normal choices," Kieran said with a laugh.

"When we're done with this, I, uh… Next few chapters?" Jack asked, wishing his face wasn't so hot.

Kieran leaned in and kissed the angle of Jack's jaw. "Of course, my sweet siren."

image [https://i.imgur.com/eZY0YUq.png]