She stood frozen in her stance, lips sucked inward at the feel of his, they tingling and numb from the cold being relieved by the warmth, his smell radiating her senses. He stood in front of her, breathing labored, eyes set on hers as she tried to think of words to say, an ice breaker that wouldn't make her feel like an awkward teenager. This was her best friend. Her best friend had just kissed her and was now waiting on her reaction. Her reaction other than the response she had given him when he put his lips against hers.

Jumping at the ring of her cell phone, she looked down, seeing her sister's name grace the front of the screen as she sighed deeply. This was the wet blanket in the snow - the one thing that would ruin it. His shoulders slumped as he saw her attention go elsewhere, she knowing that it had been ruined. The moment she thought might have been something she could only have imagined happening was ruined. It was only her imagination.

"I have to go," she said softly, eyes still settled on the phone in her hand, "have a safe trip back home, JC."

"Natalie," he said softly as she began to walk away, "where are you going?"

"I have to leave and go help set up dinner at the church," she said softly, "CeCe and I do it everytime we're in town." She was ignoring his slow steps behind her, trailing her as she made her way back to her home. He stood at the bottom of the sidewalk as she stepped to her car, waiting for Cecilia to leave the house and get into the passenger seat, closing the door quickly and without a word. "I'm sorry, if that means anything." She got in, not waiting for him to respond to her as she shut the door and started the car, pulling out of the driveway and meeting his confused gaze before she pulled out, he awkwardly standing there, unable to say anything.


"And he just kissed you? You didn't say anything to him?!"

She placed silverware down on the table ontop of the napkins, shaking her head. "What could I say? We were in the middle of arguing, I demanded he tell me what he was getting at and he just ... did it. I didn't have time to respond to it when you called me."

"If I had known that's what had gone down, I would have come here myself," she said softly, Natalie shaking her head. "What?"

"It's like ... it's like a worn welcome," she said softly, trying to explain, "you know how someone comes around so much and you enjoy their company, but all of a sudden, it's like they're just trying to make you claustrophobic, or it's just something that suddenly bothers you that they come around. That's how it is now. That's what we were to each other; we needed the space just as much as we needed each other. I just think the space is more welcomed than us being friends again, or whatever we were. I think he's had enough of me, had enough of us. Otherwise, he never would have left in the first place."

Cecilia looked up at her side of the table, looking at her sister in disappointment. "Then what is your excuse? Why did you leave him this time? He came around, didn't he? He came around because it's you he wants, nothing else. He wants to be with you, Natalie; he doesn't care what happened on Halloween and he doesn't care what was said. All he cares about is you."

"I know," she said softly, "I care about him, too, but -"

"Everything before the 'but' is bull sh-" her sister stopped, catching her swearing in the church hall, "is not the truth, so spit out what you mean, Attie."

Natalie put what she held in her hands down, wiping her clammed hands on the apron tied around her waist. "What I mean, is that I care about him too much to put my heart in his hands. I care about him more than he wants to care about me and I know I'll end up getting hurt in the end. I fell in love with him, he fell for the idea of being able to be with the person he thought he wanted that night. It's not me he wants, it's the made-up vision of the girl he met and Lord, forgive me, hooked up with in an elevator shaft. I'm not who he wants."

"Then," Cecilia said softly, voice trailing off as she nodded behind her sister, "why is he here now?"

All the color drained from Natalie's face as she swallowed the lump in her throat, looking at her sister, searching for any sign that she was just jerking her chain. The chain, she hoped that her sister had a tight hold on, was not there as she turned around slowly, body beginning to shake in panic as she met his eyes. "I thought you went home," she said softly, voice barely audible as he leaned his head forward, straining to hear what she had said. "That was it. You left."

"You never let me finish what I was trying to explain," he said, watching as she looked over at her sister who was trying to look anywhere but at the two of them and then towards the door. She was making an escape plan; she wanted nothing to do with listening to him explain all that he felt. All that he felt could consist of a lifetime, or three simple words - three simple words that were like word vomit to him when he was younger; he didn't say it as often as most people did.

He watched her without moving his head as she walked past him, watched her grab her coat and begin to walk down the hall towards the large, heavy double doors, following her with a thousand things racing in his mind. Of all the things he wanted to say, to spit out so that she'd understand, he could only manage to say, and quite loudly, was 'I love you'."

He froze, heart racing as he saw her entire body pause, arm half in, half out of the heavy coat, one hand on the door, ready to push it open. "Natalie -"

"What did you just say?"

He licked his lips, she still facing away from him as the phrase ran back and forth in his head, on the tip of his tongue like it were the high-dive, waiting to take the jump, ready to lunge hands, arms, head first into the deep end. This was it. He, along with that phrase, dove. Inhaling slowly, he repeated what he had said, voice shaky. He was a man, a man in all terms, but he couldn't help the sudden burning in his nose as the tears started to form in his eyes. She had brought him to this, brought a grown man to an emotional state that he only imagined happening to men who were truly in love, who were watching the love of their lives stand before them at the altar, bear their child - but she was neither of those. She was not marrying him, not giving him a child, she was giving him a chance. A second chance to say what he felt - she may have not been in a wedding or hospital gown, but he did love her, he was in love with her. She was the love of his fucking life.

"I said, I love you, Natalie." He stood his ground, refusing to step closer or further away from her, watching her for a response. Slowly, her hand fell from the door, followed shortly by her head. She had given up on leaving. She wasn't leaving. "You might find it hard to believe, but I love you. I love you more than you want to believe, more than you thought I'd ever love you. I love you like those sappy love songs I always write, all those love songs you sing when you think I'm not paying attention. I love you like," he paused, trying to think of a good example, "like Chandler loved Monica. He loved every little quirk, every little antic that could drive another man wild. Loved that he looked at her as his best friend, as this truly amazing woman he was blessed to have in his life and though he was afraid and paranoid to admit it at first, he truly loved her. He loved that she cooked for him, that sometimes, she let him cook with her. That, despite all that they had gone through, it still lead him to the same person that he belonged with. You are my Monica, Natalie," he said softly, shaking his head and laughing at his comparison, "God help me for watching that show with you for so long, but it fit. You are my Monica Gellar. You are my crazy, sometimes a little too set in your ways Monica.

"Our sudden ... get-together might not have occurred in London, but it happened and I'm not going to brush it under the rug. It happened, and I'm not going to act as if it hadn't. If it hadn't of happened, I might not have come to the realization that I did as quickly as I did. I want to be your Chandler. I want to be your sometimes paranoid, sometimes scared of commitment, but never afraid to show how he feels Chandler. I want you, Natalie. I don't know how much more clear I can make this, but if I have to, I will. I'll do it forever if I have to."

She turned finally, he sucking in a breath as he saw the tears pooled at the lids of her eyes as she blinked, letting them release down her cheeks. Her face was blank, minus the tears that could have meant more than just sadness. He saw the browns of her eyes magnified by the teardrops, saw her tongue dart out and slowly lick her dry lips. What he didn't see, was her response. "Say it again," she said softly, he raising his eyebrows in confusion, "say what you first said to me, not your whole Chandler-Monica speech."

He cleared his throat, confused, "Natalie -"

"Just say it," she stepped towards him, his eyes widening as she closed the space between them, her eyes going from his mouth and waiting to see the words form from behind his lips and to his eyes that never left her face. "JC, please."

He felt her lean into him as her hands slid down his forearms, fingers lacing with his open hands. Locking her fingers between the spaces of his own, he felt as if it were the piece that had been missing; her hands fit his perfectly, her body fit his like a worn glove. She was it. As much as he had wanted to run, there was no other place that he wanted to be than there with her in that moment. His fingers closed over hers, saying what she had pleaded with him to say once more. "I love you, Natalie."

The smile slowly formed on her face as the words registered once more, it reaching her eyes as tears began to form once more. She kissed him, kissed him like she had wanted to for so long and never could because he had been a royal jerk, it soft and deep but full of need. She needed him. As much as she told him to leave, the one part in her always hoped that he would argue with her, that he'd stand and stay because he knew that was what she wanted. He was right: he may have left before, but he was here now and that was all that mattered to her.

She heard her sister clear her throat, the kiss slowly breaking as her eyes traveled to Cecilia, she leaning up against the doorframe, amused. "I hate to break it to you guys," she said, voice lowering, "but you are in a church. Fornification begins in the bedroom, Forgiveness begins at church. Not the other way around."

Natalie laughed, red creeping up her cheeks as she buried her face in his jacket, his arms splayed across her back, holding her protectively. "Then," he responded softly, "Cecilia, I hope you can hold up fort on your own." He stepped away from her, she looking at him in confusion as his eyes met hers, the blue suddenly darkening, a different kind of emotion behind them now. "We have gotten over the forgiveness, so now we must leave and go over the other."

Cecilia laughed, shaking her hand away in a dismissal. "Mom and dad are on their way here with David; the house is all yours. If they ask, I'll say you left to go talk to JC over coffee."

"I'm not seventeen, Ceece," Natalie said, arching an eyebrow, "you don't have to cover for me."

"Well, it's either that or you have daddy knocking on your door to make sure you're okay."

Natalie nodded, "all right, touche." She felt her heart flutter when his hand tightened it's grip on hers, looking up at him as his eyes still held the dark color in comparison to the naturally light and almost green tone. She licked her lips, turning and walking away with him leading her towards his car. "I can't believe you drove all the way here," she said softly as he opened the passenger door for her, he turning to look at her with a certain light in his eyes that she never wanted to see gone, "that you came here ... just for me."

"There are a lot of things I'd do for you, Natalie," he said softly, he leaning down and placing a soft kiss to her lips, breaking it quickly and placing another to them, "c'mon, it's freezing."

She nodded, watching as he crossed around the front of the car and stood across from her, meeting her gaze in a questioning look. She swallowed, nose burning from the cold as she found her voice once more, afraid that she might lose it again, "I love you, too."

Any tension that seemed to have been carried on his face melted away at her comment, he pointing downward through the hood of the car, "get in the car, Natty," he said softly, it a gentle demand that she listened to, just barely shutting the door when his hand closed over her free one, pulling her to him and pressing his lips to hers. Once the kiss broke, his hands came to either side of her face, eyes burning into hers, "thank you for not hating me after all of this," he said, she nodding as he pulled away, starting the car and blasting the heat to ease the frigid cold that had began to numb his fingertips. He laughed, rubbing his hands together, "And you spent twenty years living here? Freezing your ass off?!"

"I loved it here," she said, softly, eyes cast out her window as she watched the snow fall, "I'd like to move back someday."

He smiled inwardly, taking one last look at her before pulling out of the parking lot and heading back towards her home a few minutes away. He just hoped that once they went through the threshold, awkwardness would not begin to fill the room with a thick tension and neither would be able to say what they wanted.



"You want anything to drink?"

He looked over at her, she pulling off her coat as she walked into the kitchen, voice distant as she rummaged through her cupboard for glasses. "I'll take whatever," he said in response, eyes casting ocer towards the upright piano in the corner of the room, Christmas music scattered all over the floor near it and on the music stand in front of it, a smile forming on his face as he walked towards it, sitting down on the bench and pressing his fingers gently against the ivories. He remembered her telling him that her mother had been a choir teacher before becoming the music teacher at the local elementary school, how she always had been playing when she was younger until her fingers began to ache so much that the arthritis had given her a very small chance of ever playing for longer than five to ten minutes at a time before excruciating pain began to throb within her joints.

He looked up, the smile widening at the sheet music in front of him, a favorite of his settled on the top. Playing a few notes, he heard her move from behind him, he turning to see her standing with two glasses of wine in her hands. "I know you're a beer drinker, but I figured that it's Christmas Eve and it's a little more classier of a day," she said softly, chuckling as he took one from her hands, "that, and that's all we have in the house, since that is all my parents drink."

"Wine is good," he said softly, take a slow drink of it as he watched her over the rim of the wine glass. She was curling herself up into a ball, blanket over her legs as she cradled the glass between her hands and looked at him. "What?"

"Well, aren't you going to play?" She sipped her wine, cracking a smile as he turned back around wordlessly, suddenly nervous with her eyes on the back of his head. This was a new feat. "Same song you were playing, Jace."

"Patience, oh-impatient one," he said softly, hearing her chuckle, "I'm getting there."

"We both know that I have more patience than you do," she said, "I could wait forever."

She may have meant to hear him play the song, but the words that escaped her mouth made his entire chest feel warm as a broad smile formed on his face. "You know, I could, too."

"Maybe for different things," she said softly, he hearing her move from behind him, "but other things, I don't think you would."

"Like my career," he said, scooting over on the bench as she sat down next to him, playing the lower notes to his higher on the piano. "Like, deciding ... things."

"What made you decide with ... things?"

He shrugged slowly, looking at her in confusion as she gripped the hand closest to hers, lifting it from the keys and tucking her body underneath it, he moving as far back on the bench as he could as she set on the very edge of the bench between his legs just barely on the uncomfortable wood seat. "Those things," he breathed softly, "weighed heavily on my shoulders for a very long time."

She leaned her head back, it resting on the curve of his neck and shoulder, eyes half-lidded as she continued to play, his hands idle onto of her graceful fingers. His breathing was even as she continued to play the introduction to the song, her head lulling to the side closest to his mouth as he began to sing softly, his voice like a children's lullaby.

The song finished shortly after, she still leaning into him as his hands laced through the tops of hers, pulling them to their bodies. "I was always afraid of being hurt," he finally responded, "of losing someone who meant so much to me that I never let myself see something in them that I was always looking for. I saw that I was beginning to see you like that and I started making excuses, little lies to turn me off of those feelings. Then, Halloween happens and I'm like, ecstatic that I can finally put all my energy in finding this woman. Great, I think. And then, it's you. You are that woman and everything just changes. I got angry. More so at myself than at you, at the issues suddenly running around in my head. I ran from myself, my heart ... you. I didn't want us to be a disappointment, I didn't want to lose you as the person I held you so dearly as. I left to clear my brain of all the thoughts of that night, to clear my head completely of how I felt about you. I held you at a distance and yet, when I look back, I held you so closely that I don't know why I didn't see how I was blindly falling for you without even realizing it."

He sighed deeply, leaning his head into hers and placing his hands on the ivories again, pressing a few notes before stopping. "And then, I'm in the studio with Tony, whom I haven't talked to in nearly a year ... and we're just dabbling with that song we wrote together. He goes to me, 'you know, the best part of that song is the story of every lovelorn man's life.' I, of course, have no idea what he's talking about so he starts to sing it and it clicked. It fucking clicked. That song, that song was written with the thought of you weighing heavily on my mind ... even before I really knew you, really knew how I felt about you. Like they said, 'every single person has the love life they want' and I depended solely on myself for so long that it was what I wanted for the rest of my life: I didn't want to have anyone to depend on, to depend on me; I didn't want to have to love someone else, just be selfish and keep it all to myself. Then, this quirky, baking, chick-flick freak of a girl comes into my life with this dark brown hair and these big, brown eyes and I think to myself that I can still have that life, I can still have this beautiful girl as a friend and still be a selfish bastard. All comes tumbling down and I'm alone again and I realized I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be alone unless I'm with you. I held onto you so tightly that I thought I let you slip away. And yet, here I am and here you are ..."

She smiled against his face near his jaw, eyes still watching his fingers on the piano. "Sing the story," she said softly, he humming in confusion as a response. "The song you were talking about."

He nodded against her forehead, keys pressing down once more and playing the sweet melody that she knew off by heart.

It's amazing how we fear, we may be
It's from ourselves we so often run
Abandon fear and consequence of heartbreak
Expose the truth and give yourself to love

We've all been set up to be disappointed
We have to crawl before we learn to fly
It's the blur that moves right into focus
Removes the doubt, aligns your heart and mine

He continued to play the notes softly, unsure of what to say as she sat there, eyes watering and slowly falling, pooling to the fabric of his sweater. "JC," she said softly, he letting his fingers fall from the keys and to his lap as she pulled her face away from his, studying his face. "Why couldn't you talk to me about it?"

"Because that would have made it real," he said softly, eyes slowly dragging up to hers, "because then I would have known that there was no turning back. I needed that exit, I needed that escape in case it would all blow up in my face."

"You weren't the only one holding on."

He smiled weakly, turning his head fully and kissing her. He gripped her hands, stopping her. "Wait," he pulled away, standing up as she sat, watching him in curiosity. He reached forward, taking her hand and pulling her to him. "That was uncomfortable," he chuckled, she smiling as she looked at him. "We have a lot of weeks to catch up on," he said softly as she nodded. "But it's going to take some time, I'm not rushing this."

She eyed him, tugging on his hand for him to follow her. "We've got a long time to catch up. I'm not worried about that."

"Then what are you -"

She turned to look at him over her shoulder as she pulled him up the stairs and down the hall towards her bedroom, eyebrow raised. "A typical man would know what I was doing. You are a man, right?"

He laughed slightly, shaking his head in disbelief as she pushed open her door, he pushing it shut once he was in. As soon as the satisfying click met her ears, she was against him, hands gripping onto his waist as she kissed him fiercely, the smile creeping against his lips as she soon released his waist and let her hands drop between them, popping the button open on his jeans and pulling the zipper down. "Natalie, you're crazy."

"Maybe."

He sucked in a breath, feeling her hands meet the sensitive flesh confined behind the denim. "It ... it's a good crazy," he added, head dropping back up against the door as she tugged his pants further down, already painfully erect. He let out a quiet gasp as the warmth of her mouth closed down around the head of his dick, looking down at her as she chuckled. "What's so funny?"

She pulled away, he already missing the heat that her body gave him. "It's not funny, it's just ... well, I'm pretty sure that I've got the answer to whether or not you're a man or not."

"In which case, I am."

She grinned, holding firmly to the base as she licked it painfully slow, mouth closing over the head once more as his hands reached downward, gripping her hair as she continued her ministrations. She began to pump him, head moving in time with her hand movements, he feeling close to the edge already, his release boiling. His hips bucked, trying to contain himself as she pulled away, a satisfying pop coming from her mouth as she let go of her suction, standing up and meeting his gaze. "I think you're an even bigger man than most."

Groaning as she winked at her slight tease, he reached down, tugging at the hem of her top and pulling it over her head. His hands immediately went for the pale red lace of the bra she wore, cupping her breasts and running the pads of his thumb over the centers. He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her flesh and between the valley of her breasts, hands pushing her gently backward and toward the bed. "I'm going to do this right, Natalie," he said softly, holding himself above her on his hands as she unhooked her bra, pulling it from her body, his eyes traveling downward and licking his lips. "This isn't just some release I need because some beautiful, witchy stranger gave me attention as just a male and not who I am."

"Then do it," she murmured, reaching up and cupping his face, "have sex with me."

He shook his head, her eyes squinting in confusion. "I won't have sex with you," he responded, hands going down to the black dress pants she wore, slowly unbuttoning them and then removing his own shirt, "as cheesy as it sounds, I'm going to make love to you."

She smiled up at him, lifting her hips as he pulled the pants and her panties off her body slowly, groaning at the skin-to-skin contact she had made. He leaned down, pressing kisses to her collarbone and neck, bringing his mouth down onto hers as his hand opened her legs, he bringing his body inbetween hers, rubbing intimately against her. "Natalie," he whispered, she holding onto his head at the base of his neck, eyes fluttered shut at his touches, "Natalie, look at me."

She opened her eyes, turning her head to meet his gaze as she gasped slightly as he pushed himself into her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Jace -"

"I love you."

Her eyes welled up as he turned so that he was directly above her, now holding his body up by his forearms, his thrusting deliberate and slow, rocking against her as her let out tiny cries, pulling his head down to hers and kissing him passionately. "God, Jace," she sucked in a breath, breathing shallow, "I love you, too."

He grinned, his thrusts meeting her hips in a rhythm, hand dropping between them as he stroked her intimately, her hips bucking at just the slightest touch. She was close, so close; he wondered why they hadn't begun this earlier. Her voice brought him back down to earth, the feeling burning deep in his belly bringing his thrusts quicker, harder.

"Jace, I'm almost there," she murmured, gripping onto him tightly, nails digging into his back. She cried out his name, nearly frantic as she came, his own release building quickly as he tried to hold off for a few more moments, nearly collapsing against her as he came. "Good God," she mumbled, pulling him to lie down on her, chest against chest. "I might have to keep you."

He laughed, feeling one hand weave through his hair as the other gripped his back. He inhaled slowly, trying to catch his breath as he traced beads of sweat on her chest, the body heat between them immense. "Good, because I've got you now, Natalie, I'm not letting you go."