“Does Quentin celebrate Christmas?”

Laurence looked up as Myriam swept through the bead curtain into the back room, and chewed on the end of his pen as he mulled it over. “I dunno,” he said. “I mean, he’s an atheist, but that doesn’t stop anyone.” He pursed his lip and narrowed his eyes. “Are you making plans?”

Myriam laughed warmly and settled down at the table. She reached out to pet Windsor’s head as the raven hopped over to greet her. “I thought it might be nice if he could join us for the Winter Solstice. For all of you to join us. I think it’s more accessible than many of our festivals, so it might be a good introduction for him.”

Laurence gnawed on the pen a while. His mom had a point. It was a pretty easy celebration for anyone to attend, even if they weren’t Pagans themselves.

The Winter Solstice marked the God’s rebirth, which meant Herne would likely be reborn at the same time. Until then, Herne was beyond his reach, and Windsor was too young to be able to act as a messenger just yet. No wonder Laurence always felt a strange slump around this time of year. He’d always figured it was just winter blues a few months too early, but it was always swept away by the Winter Solstice, and come the end of Yule he was back on form.

Ugh. No wonder he’d got caught up with Dan around a year ago now, then ditched him when he came to his senses in the new year. Hell, wasn’t his first taste of heroin sometime around fall, too?

He shook his head. The whole point of last night was to let go, to move on. He’d made mistakes, but now he knew what lay behind them he could be more vigilant. And with Quentin around, with any luck he had support to make it through to the next solstice.

So it would be nice if Quentin could join them.

As ever, Laurence had to concede to his mother’s wisdom in such things, and he pulled the pen from his mouth at last. “I’ll talk to him,” he said. “See if he’s interested. But if not, I can come anyway. I’ve skipped out on way too many of these lately. Speaking of, how’d last night go?”

“It was beautiful.” Myriam’s fingers soothed down Windsor’s back, and his eyes slowly flickered closed. “Amy came. She couldn’t coax Rufus out of hiding, though.”

“Yeah, can’t say I’m surprised.” He paused as the shop’s bell sounded out front, but he heard Aiden greet whoever it was, so he returned his attention to his mom. “We kinda did our own little version at home last night. Said a few words, lit candles, had a cookout. It was good. I think once Quentin realized we wouldn’t be dancing naked around a bonfire things went pretty well.”

“I hadn’t even considered that nudity was an option.” Quentin’s voice accompanied the clatter of beads, and he strode into the room with a sheepish smile. “Thank goodness.”

“Baby!” Laurence grinned and hopped off his stool. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“That’s why it’s a surprise.” Quentin laughed softly and wrapped his arms around Laurence’s waist, then leaned in to kiss him tenderly.

“Mmhmm.” Laurence had to behave himself. His mom was right there, for goodness’ sake. “You heading out shopping?”

“Actually I have a favor to beg of Myriam.” Quentin’s hand came to rest over Laurence’s ass as he peeled away to smile to her.

“Anything, dear!” She hopped up to greet him with a hug. “What is it?”

“I’d quite like to borrow Laurence, if that’s all right?”

Laurence’s eyebrows climbed. “Everything okay?”

“Better.” Light danced in Quentin’s eyes.

“Of course. Of course!” Myriam laughed and fussed with Quentin’s hair as though sending him away to school for the first time.

“For a few days,” Quentin added, his tone deeply apologetic. “Would that be all right?”

Myriam blinked, and brushed hair back over her shoulder. “It’s kind of short notice,” she chided.

“I know. I must apologize.” Quentin bit his lip softly and gave Myriam his very best puppy eyes. “Mia is quite happy to care for the children while we’re gone, but if you could look after Windsor I would greatly appreciate it.”

Laurence felt every bit as bemused as his mom looked. “Are we going somewhere, baby?”

“Indeed we are.”

Laurence blinked. “Do I get to know where?”

“All in good time. As I said, it’s a surprise.” Quentin laughed gently. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course!”

“Then all that remains is for Myriam to agree.” Quentin turned to her again and clasped his hands together. “Please?”

She eyed them both, then threw her hands up in mock protest. “All right. But next time please try to give me more notice?”

“Consider it done!” Quentin darted forward to peck her on the cheek, then grasped Laurence’s hand and tugged him toward the curtain.

Laurence barely had time to whip his apron off over his head before he was propelled through the shop and out onto the sidewalk.

* * *

“So where are we going?”

Quentin was being shifty. It was adorable, but also slightly troubling, since the last time Quentin had been this shifty it was because his dad had tracked him down at last.

“I’d like to keep it a surprise as long as possible,” Quentin murmured as he opened the door of a black rental car for Laurence. “I’ve packed a few things, but I’m sure if I’ve missed anything we can pick it up once we’re there.”

Laurence narrowed eyes at him as he eased into the back of the car, and Quentin followed. Their driver pulled away as soon as the door was shut, which meant the driver already knew where they were going.

“Have I gotta tickle it out of you?” Laurence fastened his seatbelt and sat back to regard Quentin with feigned aloofness.

“Oh, heavens.” Quentin’s cheeks turned the most beautiful pink, and he shrank away slightly. “All right. Very well.” He sighed dramatically. “I thought it would be nice to go away for a few days. Get some time alone. Everything’s been so hectic lately, but I think now that it has all quietened down it would be nice for us to…” His blush only deepened. “Take some time,” he murmured.

Laurence ran his tongue along his teeth as Quentin’s hint found fertile ground. He shifted position in his chair so that he could lean toward Quentin and drape a hand across his thigh. “So where,” he rumbled as seductively as he could, “are you taking me?”

Quentin sucked on his lip and trailed his fingers over the back of Laurence’s hand. “Las Vegas?” He offered it with a lilt which turned it into a question, as though unsure whether Laurence would approve of it.

“Vegas?” Laurence laughed. “What is this, a shotgun wedding or something? What’d I tell you? Gimme a couple of years, hon!”

His teasing made Quentin all the more flustered, and Laurence could only laugh harder.

“I’m kidding, Quen! Vegas sounds great. Have you ever been?”

Quentin shook his head quickly. “I have not. But I thought it was… close enough should we be forced to return in an emergency, yet far enough that we could spend time together without…” He waved his fingers. “Interference.”

Laurence squeezed Quentin’s thigh and nodded. “Great,” he echoed.

It wasn’t that he was ungrateful. Far from it. But while grand gestures were hardly beyond Quentin’s repertoire, Laurence was all too aware that they could occasionally be beyond his budget. The money saved from no longer paying La Jolla rent went to feeding and educating a bunch of teenagers, so it wasn’t like Quentin was suddenly flush with cash.

Maybe he’d got it cheap, and that’s why there was no advance warning.

* * *

The car pulled off onto a side road on the outer edge of the airport, and Laurence peered out at the small, rectangular building they approached. “Uh. Are we going the right way?”

Quentin chuckled. “Absolutely.”

They passed a sign which read Passenger Drop-Off, but this didn’t seem anywhere near the main terminal buildings, and when the car pulled up into a valet parking spot, he began to get a slow trickle of suspicion.

“Quen,” he scowled. “Did you charter a flight?”

Quentin only smiled, and slipped from the car as his door was opened from the outside.

“Goddess! Quentin!” Laurence hurried out and all but chased him into the little terminal building while their driver fetched luggage from the trunk. “How much did this cost?!”

Quentin waved a hand and breezed through the cool, modern interior. It looked more like a lounge than a terminal, and every wall was glass so that they could see directly out onto the tarmac.

The tarmac where a cluster of small, sleek jets waited, their white bodies gleaming in the mid-morning sun.

Laurence felt numb as he was sped through the briefest of boarding procedures, where the lady behind the desk simply walked them out onto the tarmac and up the steps of one of the waiting jets. He noticed that Quentin had brought both their passports along as she gave the documents a cursory check, but then he and Quentin were handed off to one of the pilots, who gave them a quick tour of the interior while their driver stowed their bags.

It was overwhelming. The jet was outfitted like an MTV crib, with only a handful of large, plush armchairs, a couch, televisions everywhere, games consoles, a marble-lined bathroom, and even a private bedroom at the back.

“This is crazy,” he breathed as he sank into a seat. “We can’t afford this!”

Quentin snorted. “It’s only an hour,” he remarked as he settled in the chair facing Laurence. “Relax, dear boy. It’s all going swimmingly.”

Laurence looked past him as their driver boarded and settled into a seat at the front of the plane. “Does he come as part of the deal?”

“Why hire when you can bring your own staff?” Quentin shrugged and leaned across to rest his hands on Laurence’s knees, which drew Laurence’s attention back to those pale, glasslike eyes. “I should have asked, I’m sorry. Are you all right flying?”

Laurence blinked slowly, then shrugged. “It’s okay. I don’t get to do it often. We usually drove everywhere. I’ve never flown like this, though.”

Quentin nodded. “It’s perfectly safe. Just relax and enjoy the trip.”

He exhaled and leaned back in his chair. It really was ridiculously comfortable, and he kinda wished they were going somewhere further away just so he could enjoy the experience more. It would’ve been nice if Quentin hadn’t used the word trip, but he didn’t mean it the way Laurence meant it.

The pilots locked themselves away in the cockpit and taxied the jet toward the runway, and within a couple of minutes the plane was accelerating to take-off speed.

It was all so surreal. Was this why Quentin had shoved him out the door so fast this morning?

Was Quentin getting better at keeping secrets?

He watched the ground fall away as the jet launched itself toward the endless blue of the sky. Buildings which were so close at first became little more than lines on the ground after a few minutes.

Quentin couldn’t keep a secret from Laurence to save his life.

It felt like an alarm bell had been ringing for over an hour, and suddenly Laurence had unblocked his ears. Quentin hadn’t been shifty this morning, he’d been nothing but relaxed the past few days, and if he’d been planning a surprise at all Laurence would’ve sniffed it out from miles away.

Quentin idly crossed his legs and smoothed fingers over his shirt. “You have remarkably strong instincts,” he mused. “As does your mother. Suppressing them takes a remarkable amount of effort, but then I do relish a challenge.”

Laurence stared at Quentin. Nothing made sense. Not the words, not the gut feeling he had, not the excess of a private jet or a sudden trip to Vegas of all places.

“Wait,” he said slowly. “Am I dreaming?”

“In a sense, for which I can only apologize. Still, I feel that we’re secure enough now to dispense with the charade.” Quentin raised his chin.

And then, in the space between one breath and the next, Quentin was no longer there.

Frederick was.