The elevator doors shut and they were alone again, briefly. Through the last few days they’d only had little snippets of privacy. Small blocks of time, minutes, between the all the questions and scrutiny of the investigation. When their elevator stopped and when its doors opened up to the sixth floor of the District Attorney’s building, they would be back in the bright lights.

After all the mess at the parade, she and Sam had been separated for hours. Despite nothing actually being released—and Clara thanked God every day since for that—those with badges who eventually arrived insisted on the entire DARC Ops crew following them for decontamination, and then a long debriefing. It was apparently nothing new to Sam, being tied up for hours with government agencies, but it frustrated the hell out of Clara. Especially when she found out every piece of Sam’s clothing was removed and destroyed, him being scrubbed down in some fancy-ass shower before being given scrubs to wear back to the hotel. He had even looked sexy in the thin, baggy material, his hair disheveled from running his hand through it way too many times. It was often the only outward sign of frustration Sam ever showed. She was learning to read him, though, and soon she’d know him better than anyone.

He had his arm around her tonight, their sides pressed up. Clara wanted more—always wanted more—but the elevator was slowing down.

He rested his hand at the small of her back. “Are you ready for this?”

“I can’t wait,” she said. “Just one last interview and then we get on with our lives.” The doors slid open and they stepped out, walking side by side down the hall. “How about you?” she asked. “Are you nervous about not having your trusty legal counsel?”

Dave had gone back into the art of private practice. And Sam would be his first client, accompanying him to all the meetings just to “keep an eye on things.” But Dave had some problems of his own to worry about.

“I’m not nearly as nervous as I am about him,” Sam said. “This morning he has to be his own lawyer.”

Dave had been charged with a DUI on top of a handful of reckless driving charges. It was the cost of being a national hero.

“Is he still famous?” she asked.

“Famous enough to get fired from A&M.”

“Oh, no.”

“Happened this morning. But don’t feel too bad for him. He’s still getting 24/7 calls from the media. Calls for him to fly out to LA to be on TV shows. It’s crazy. He’s got people sending him money.”

Dave, the drunken hero, had turned into an overnight sensation, while Sam and his DARC Ops men fell quietly back into the shadows. According to Sam, that was the way they wanted it. Apparently, in his line of business, it wasn’t good to have too much attention.

At first that meant Clara’s attention. For her supposed protection, he had downplayed his DARC Ops work to the point of lying. He hadn’t wanted her to worry, he’d said. She could understand his motivations, why he hadn’t told her what he was really doing there at the parade, but he’d been swiftly informed he was never doing that again.

Now it was her turn for some misdirection.

“Here we go,” he said, knocking on the door.

Her hand slipped into his while they waited. When the door opened, she felt a hard squeeze.

“What the hell?”

Instead of just another nameless bureaucrat staring back at them, it was Jackson’s warm grin. “Hey, guys. Come on in.”

They walked in, submerging themselves in the cheers of his brothers in arms, the other DARC men.

“Surprise,” Clara said after he’d spun around to look at the boardroom full of yuletide friends and decorations.

“What is this?”

“An early Christmas party,” Jackson said. “Most of us have to fly back tomorrow.”

They had the conference room strung with banners and little blinking Christmas lights. There was even a fake tree in the corner, which had given Molly and Bren something to do throughout the day, the two of them coming away from the tree now with sparkles all on their faces and arms.

“A tree with sparkles,” Bren said with disgust. “Look at all this crap.”

“Look!” Molly held out her arms, “Aren’t I so pretty?”

Yes, she was so pretty. Clara grabbed her into a big hug.

“Mommy,” she said, pulling away. “What’s eggnog?”

“Something gross that only adults like.”

“Like coffee?”

Sam smiled. “Please tell me there’s lots and lots of booze in that eggnog.”

“There is,” came a voice from behind them. “And thank God.”

“Matthias,” Sam said, shaking the man’s hand and then introducing Clara.

“And I’d like to introduce the latest addition to DARC,” Matthias said, reaching out and pulling over a young lady by the hand. “This is Laurel.”

She seemed a little shy, smiling politely and nodding to Clara. “Your daughter is adorable,” she said before winking at Molly.

Matthias looked at her with admiration. “Sam wanted me to show you an example of what moving to D.C. could be like. We’ve got her mother out there, and Laurel’s working away in our hack lab. Most importantly, we’re together.”

“That’s a good thing,” Laurel said. “Depending on the day.”

Clara laughed and then raised her eyebrows at Sam. “You sure you want that kind of exposure?”

“It’s no secret he wants you there,” Matthias said.

“But to do what? Type?”

“I actually just had a conversation with Jackson,” Sam said.

“Who’s talking about me?” Jackson said, walking up to her and Sam, one of his arms around the waist of an attractive, tall blonde. Mira, Sam had told her. She’d gotten a crash course on everyone’s names that morning.

“Should I tell them the news?” Sam said.

Clara turned to him. “What news?”

Sam said, “Jackson and I talked, and we’ve come to an agreement. I’ll be staying in New Orleans.”

“Yep,” Jackson said. “I learned from what happened here that he can occasionally be right about things. Plus, I can’t fire the guy on Christmas.” Sam rolled his eyes.

Clara turned to Sam. “You’re staying?”

“I’m the new Southern contact for DARC Ops. And whatever I can’t do remotely, I can always fly up to the capitol.”

“That’s amazing,” Clara said, staring at him as if he was the only one in the room. She was amazed he could keep the secret all day. It was a day of both of them holding on to surprises. And though they were good surprises, she hoped they were the last for a while. She needed their lives to be nice and boring for a while.

“An early Christmas gift.” Sam said.

“But what about your college?”

“I’m transferring to Gulf A&M.”

“You know I wasn’t ever moving up to D.C.,” she said, feeling Molly against her legs. “But I thought you were burned out with teaching.”

“I was burned out on a lot of things before you came around,” Sam said, pointing up at something on the ceiling. “Burned out on life.”

“What is that?” Clara asked, looking at what looked like twigs and baby spinach suspended in string.

“Mistletoe,” Sam said, leaning down to kiss her.

“Hey,” cried Molly, injecting herself between their bodies as they came together.

Clara said, “I hope you don’t get burned out on this little elf down here.”

From below: “Can Santa get me a puppy?”

“A toy one?”

“A real one.”

“Honey, his elves can’t make real ones.”

After Molly ran away in defiance, Clara looked back at Sam, her head leaning back as she stood up on the tips of her toes. His face nearing close, his eyes closing, his lips on hers. She closed her eyes and they were alone in the room.