Even though she'd just lost her father, Chiara had to say that the first Christmas she spent without him, the first Christmas season she spent at Langton with Drew and his family, was the happiest she'd ever been. Drew made a point, every day, of asking her to stay over, of making it plain that he wanted her there but that he wasn't expecting it or taking it for granted that she would.

"And I don't want you to think that I'm snubbing you," he said earnestly as he leaned across her to put the lamp out one evening after they were in bed. "I think I need to be here because mum and Noah are here, but after they're gone, we can sleep at yours sometimes, I promise."

Nor did he expect them to be together every night. Two days before Christmas, Chiara got a call about a downed tree branch that needed clearing up the next morning, and she slept alone at the cottage so she could get an early start, leaving Drew at the French doors with a kiss good night.

Ned asked her one sunny afternoon as she was having tea in the kitchen if she was sure she wanted to go ahead with Drew.

"Yeah," she answered, surprised. "Don't I seem happy?"

"You do, you do," he assured her, smiling. "It's just that I can't forget that kiss we had back in London, that's all. Isn't that bonkers?"

"No, Ned, it's not bonkers," Chiara answered with a laugh. "It was nice. But this thing with Drew, whatever it is, it's just something I have to pursue, something I feel I have to do, you understand?"

Ned nodded. "I guess I have to, don't I?"

Chiara mussed his white blond hair with affection as she rose and put her teacup in the sink.

"You're just about the nicest person I've ever met, Ned Hunter," she declared. "Certainly you're way nicer than I am, I know that."

Ned grinned at her as he finished his tea. "Yeah, people tell me that, but I never seem to get the girl, now why is that?"

And on Christmas Eve, as she sat around the fire and the tree, eating the wonderful cookies made by Ellie and singing Christmas carols in between watching movies and just talking and laughing, Chiara reflected that this first Christmas without her dad was actually the least lonely she'd ever been. They were on their second bowl of Ned's delicious and very potent eggnog.

"You thinking about your dad?" Drew asked, tucking a bit of her hair behind her ear and taking another sip of nog. He'd pulled her onto his lap on the sofa, displacing William Wallace in the process and hurting his feelings terribly.

Chiara nodded.

"I'm sorry, this must be hard, you must be lonely," he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She shook her head. "No, that's the thing, though. Usually the holidays was just him and me, very low key, almost subdued, so in a weird way, this is actually the least lonely I've ever been. Even when my mum was alive, it was still pretty quiet because we didn't have any other family, you see, it was just the three of us.

"I don't want you to think I don't miss him, because I do, desperately," she told Drew. "He would enjoy being here with everyone and telling stories and pulling crackers, drinking nog, the whole bit, he really would, but he's not, and I am, so I just have to make the best of things, I guess. And I know he'd want me to. He wouldn't want me to slouch about and pull a long face and mope and moan all over the place, either. He'd be glad I'm happy."

She turned to face Drew. "He'd be glad I found someone to be happy with, for however long," she said in a quiet voice. This time she was the one who tucked a bit of his hair behind his ear, and kissing the ear in question after.

"Me too, CC," he told her. "I'm happy too." He pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin and rubbing her back as he sipped his eggnog.

He caught his mother's eye across the room, and smiled at her.

She smiled back, and even in the dim light he could see the joy and approval in her eyes. He'd never seen her look at him like that about a girl, that was for sure. On the one or two occasions he'd been with his mother and had a girl with him, things hadn't gone well. One of the girls had said his mother "dressed real cute for an older lady," and another had tried to buddy up to her and had actually attempted to call her "mum," to Ellie's horror.

With Chiara, everything was completely different, from how his mother felt about her to how he himself felt about her. He was actually shocked at his own feelings toward this wonderful, adorable dumpling he was holding in his arms. 

For one thing, he wanted to be with her all the time. If he was awake, he wanted to be in her company, no matter what he was doing, whether it was watching a movie or playing video games; sometimes, even when he was playing the piano and working on music, he wished she were there so he could ask her opinion about some lyric or other.

Another thing was the sex. Normally he had a very low tolerance for number of times he wanted to be with the same person. Once, maybe twice if she were very beautiful or famous, or if he'd been pissed the first time and didn't remember. 

But Chiara was something different. He got thirsty to be with her over and over again, even if he'd just been with her a day or two before. It was the strangest thing. He could finally almost understand how people seemed to want to pair off and get married, and stay married.

Almost.

Again and again, like that first night, he found himself wondering if this was love, if this was what it meant to love someone. Of course he loved his mother and his brother, and in a different way he loved Neddy and Luke and Gars, but he'd never felt this way about a girl before. 

Could he be in love with Chiara Cavuto? 

He almost wanted to ask his mother, but he didn't want to raise her hopes, and he knew he couldn't talk to Ned, not after what had happened in London. Maybe he could talk to Luke after the holidays, when he and Gary came so they could work on the album. Talking to Gars just didn't bear thinking about. Gary was the most fun to be with, the best company for going out drinking or just hanging out, but he was absolute shite about relationships.

The truth was that he, Andrew Edward Pennington felt like he'd finally woken up after spending most of his life in some sort of comatose state or something. He didn't know what the fuck he'd been doing until he met Chiara, but whatever it was simply didn't compare to how he felt now. The colors were brighter, food and drink tasted better, he felt more awake, just more there, somehow, more of a participant in his own life.

And for the first time since all his fame and fortune had dropped in his lap, he was glad to have it, simply for what he could for someone else with it, other than his mum and brother. When it had first started to roll in, he'd splashed out, of course, bought himself fancy cars, game systems, had crazy parties in an expensive house he'd bought (and trashed) for himself. 

Life had been one long party back then, actually. It was kind of scary when Drew thought about it, because there were a couple of years in there that he didn't really remember at all. Then one day he'd looked around and realized that he didn't know where he'd been, or where he was, or where he was going to be, and that really frightened him. 

Drew had straightened up his life after that, gotten himself a financial adviser who put him on an allowance, taken care of his debts, taken care of his mother and brother, and cleaned up his act. That was when he'd really fought with Gary, when Gars had said Drew was turning into a real wanker who was forgetting who his real friends were.

Drew couldn't help the little shiver that passed through his body.

Chiara felt it, and turned to him.

"You okay?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, just remembering how fucked up my life used to be," he answered honestly.

"Those are some pretty somber thoughts for Christmas Eve," she said, making a serious face as she leaned her forehead against his. "Why? You want me to tickle you until you wee?"

"NO! CC, please don't," Drew begged, his arms getting tight around her as he set his cup aside.

"I won't, I won't," she promised with a happy laugh. "Just try not to be such a downer on the happiest night of the year, okay?"

"Okay, I promise," he vowed.

Everyone went to bed a little while later, "to give Father Christmas plenty of time to visit," Noah joked as they climbed the stairs.

"I don't think I can do anything," Drew apologized as he stumbled into the bed. "I've had too much of Ned's fucking eggnog, good Christ."

"That's okay," Chiara assured him with a laugh. "Let's just cuddle tonight."

And Drew reflected as he fell asleep holding a fragrant Chiara in his arms that that this was almost as wonderful as doing the other.

They might have come together in the night, a quiet joining, just rhythmic breaths and a gentle grip, an eventual quickening of their breathing as they fell over the edge together, joyful grasping and murmurings of happy words as they came together and became one in the darkest hours.