"Cover your eyes right now and do not come out here, Stevie Kealoha—"

Stevie stopped. Mostly because she didn't want to break her eardrums getting any closer to Maverick's high-pitched screech, but also because he physically blocked her from moving further.

"Don't last name me you fuckin' spoon I am starving and if you ate the last sugar cookie I'm going to strangle you—" It being their last morning before flying out of Calgary didn't mean that Stevie wanted to starve. And she would do that before ever eating any of the Marmite in the kitchen.

"Plenty of time for cookies later get the fuck out of here right now—"

"God, what is that smell?" Stevie sniffed. She wasn't quite sure what that smell was as it smelled vaguely familiar, but nothing Maverick could be doing in the kitchen made her believe it was something good. "Did you do something to the cookies? Did you put them back into the oven and burn them? Everleigh said you're not allowed to touch the cookies."

"I didn't touch the cookies, I would never touch the cookies—" Maverick continued trying to get her away from the kitchen with panicked urgency. "This isn't ready. Can you please go back to your room? I need like two minutes. And before you say it, no, I don't mean MST minutes."

Stevie narrowed her eyes. "I don't trust you." She took another step toward the kitchen. "Show Brendon a good-faith gesture that you didn't ruin the cookies since you won't fuckin' get your hands off me."

"If you give me two minutes, you can see for yourself, Stev."

"Fine." She crossed her arms. "I'll go back to my room to starve then since I know you're about to show me burnt-ass cookies."

"Whatever gets you back there," he called out.

Stevie turned back to the room and Brendon's handsome smiling face. Took all of three steps before her soulmate called back out to her. She clenched her fists, ready to run outside and grab a snowball just to shove it in his face.

"Okay, it's done. You're fine to come out."

"I don't even want to go back anymore," Stevie said.

Brendon pushed her along into the kitchen. "That smells good, Mav."

"What is..." She stared down at the four prepared plates. For the past year, she felt like a stranger to the place she called home. And yet there she stood in a cabin in the middle of Calgary, lost in a piece of that home away from home. "Is that what I think it is?"

Not that it could be anything else. The dish wasn't complicated by any means. Only someone who had never tasted food before could mess it up. But Maverick going through the trouble of buying the ingredients first thing in the morning and then rushing back to prepare it, all before Stevie woke up, made her want to cry.

"I mean, it's close—I tried my best—" He stumbled over his words.

Brendon rubbed Stevie's back when she didn't say anything for a few more moments.

"You made... loco moco? Did Everleigh help you?"

"Everleigh bakes, I cook. I looked up the Liliha Bakery recipe—"

Stevie hadn't noticed Everleigh return from walking Dewey. She pulled off her coat and made a face at the Canadian's pronunciation. "Liliha. Fuckin' Spoon."

"That's... Oh my god. You did the mushies gravy too."

Most days when Stevie made loco moco, especially in Los Angeles where they didn't get it quite right, she was too lazy to do it the proper, tasty way. She used plain brown gravy mix out of a packet. But Maverick clearly put more effort into it.

"Promise he can cook better than he can speak," Everleigh said.

Maverick scoffed. "Rude."

"It's—" Stevie couldn't help herself, She tried not to cry. Tried really hard. Fuckin' embarrassing to cry over a bowl of loco moco. Except it wasn't just loco moco.

Brendon nudged her with his elbow. Smiled down at her like it was Christmas morning. "Thank you, Maverick—"

"Thank you, Maverick," she repeated.

Stevie raced toward her best friend with arms wide open and barely hugged him before he shoved her away by the face. The fuckin' spoon.

"Ew, don't touch me," Maverick said, "just eat or the fucking egg will get cold—"

She flicked some leftover flour at his face. "Don't mind if I do, thank you."

"Leigh," Brendon said with a flourish of his hand. "After you."

She silently grabbed a plate and sat down at the dining table.

"Bash, your tu—"

Brendon had a specific diet most of the year due to the weight limits of F1 cars, which meant he enjoyed the off-season food options more than anything. Cheat meals were few and far between otherwise. (Though, he hated calling them cheat meals.) (Humans didn't need to call any meal a cheat meal when they were feeding themselves something tasty.)

"Fuck, some real food finally," Brendon said after shoveling more than a couple of bites into his mouth.

"You mean you didn't want to live on sugar cookies?" Maverick asked.

Stevie thought about how the kitchen looked not that long ago. "They survived on flour, evidently."

"Literally," Maverick said. "I had to go buy more to make the damn gravy."

"Thankfully, you didn't use the stuff on your face." Stevie took another bite and savored the familiar flavors. One of her favorite tastes of home. "This is so good, Mav."

"Good, I'm glad."

Stevie held up her spoon—the utensil, not her best friend—and looked across the table. "Thoughts, Everleigh?"

That night in Taco Bell when Stevie had told her about loco moco felt like a century ago. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to cry. It wasn't just that they had become so much closer since then. Life had changed immensely as a whole, and that night, that version of Stevie and Stevie! had grown so different.

"Better than a Mexican pizza," she answered.

Stevie and Everleigh smiled at each other.

"And what about beans on toast?" Maverick asked.

"Fuckin' obviously better." Everleigh flicked a piece of rice in his direction. Landed an inch from his plate. "Who do you think I am?"

"English."

"... Fair."

Stevie picked around her plate, lost in her thoughts. The food was everything she could have ever wanted it to be. But it didn't suddenly stop the emotional train ride she had been on for over a year now. Felt more like a brief moment of beautiful scenery before a dark tunnel washed over them.

"Good time to mention I changed our tickets last night." Stevie smiled at the thought. Tried to remind herself that this was a good thing. Something reminiscent of progress or what she hoped would be progress. "Going back... home for a few days. Need to see the city lights."

She was embarrassed by how long it had been since she saw the Honolulu City Lights. Santa and Mrs. Claus sitting outside by the water fountain—the former with his shirt open, pants pulled up to his knees, his hand up in a shaka, and the former smiling in her mu'umu'u. The Hall of Christmas trees decorated by various organizations. Strolling down King Street with the sound of children laughing and trolleys singing as they passed by.

"Honolulu Hale?" Maverick asked. He had heard the tales many times over the years when Stevie promised she would show him them one day.

"Hale," Everleigh corrected. Ha-leh. Bless her.

Brendon took a sip of water. "Even I knew that one, Mav."

"I'm so sorry. I'm working on it."

"You're forgiven," Stevie said with a thumbs up. She couldn't in her right mind enjoy the delicious meal without granting him that one. "Egg is perfect."

"Thank you. I'm glad."

Brendon glanced down at his watch. As much as he loved Maverick and Everleigh, he packed everything up the second Stevie told him about the itinerary change. "What time did we need to head over to the airport again?"

"Two—" Maverick started to say before Everleigh interrupted him.

"Four."

He blinked. "You didn't."

But, of course, she had.

"I'm not sorry."

"Did the snow tires do the..." Stevie waved her hand around. "... melt the rest of the ice thing?"

Brendon helped himself to some of Everleigh's plate even though Maverick had more servings ready on the counter. "That's not how they work—" he said.

"Snow tires melted the rest of the ice thing," Maverick interjected. "Totally fine to drive now."

"Good, good." Stevie nodded. "Jenny would flip out if she found out we were stuck here."

"Can you call her and tell her we are? I just want to see what she'd say—" Maverick tempted the fates. And by fates, that meant his life in the hands of one Jenny Chastain.

"You really don't think she'd fly to London and wait to kill you at Heathrow?" Everleigh asked.

"Fine." Maverick leaned back in his seat. Surprisingly disappointed that he would live to see another day. "Don't."

Unfortunately for him, Stevie had already dialed the number.

"Too late, I've already started—" Jenny's voice sounded off. Stevie held the phone to her ear. "Oh, hey, Jenny." As if she was surprised the hear the voice of the woman she specifically called. "Sorry to bother you so early, but I just wanted to let you know that Calgary is still locked down so we won't be back until a few more days. Is that—" She paused. Waited for the string of angry words. "Right. Yeah." She didn't understand much of the next part except that she mentioned fault and Maverick and that was all she needed to get the gist of this portion of the rant. "Technically Mav's idea, yeah. Oh... Okay, see you when I see you. Bye."

Brendon smiled. "And three, two, one..."

Maverick's phone started ringing.

Naturally, he grabbed the device, ran to the front door, and hurled it outside.

Stevie rested her arm on the back of her chair. "You do realize you can't tell her now that it was a joke and she really will be on her way to London as we speak."

At that moment, he realized the ramifications of his actions. Clapped his hands and smiled at the dog. "Dewey, buddy. Want to grab dad's phon—"

"You threw it," Everleigh barked.

"He loves the snow." Yeah, and Maverick loved jumping headfirst into the worst possible outcomes.

"Go," Everleigh directed.

Maverick huffed and puffed while tugging on Everleigh's boots and then ran out to grab the phone. He returned seconds later looking like he was holding a grenade that had already been activated.

"What if I just text Jenny that I was joking—"

"She'll think you're lying and get more mad," Stevie said.

"Why does she hate me—" He was interrupted by another incoming call, to which he let out another piercing scream. Took him another few seconds to gather up enough courage to face the big foe. (Emphasis on big.) (She towered over him even more so than Everleigh, and that was saying something.) "Hi Jenny I'm so sorry it was a joke and not a very good one I'm sorry I'm breathing and still above ground Merry Christmas planes are on time love you Happy Hanukkah maybe the album is done and sounds great okay love you bye."

Brendon tended to get spared where Jenny's ire was involved, but Everleigh did not due to her proximity to the main culprit of most of her frustrations. But Jenny wasn't aware that Brendon had sent Everleigh's phone for a dip in the doggy water bowl, and as it started ringing, bubbles forming, the phone prepared for its final moments. One final ring and it took its last breath.

"Stevie." Everleigh looked more frightened by the thought of facing off Stevie's assistant than she did over any of the horror movie villains she watched over the years. "If you love me, can you please tell her I had nothing to do with this—"

Stevie brushed her off. "Oh, she said you're her favorite. Probably just calling you 'cause she knows you'd let her yell at him."

Everleigh nodded. "I'm going to send her a second Christmas gift as soon as we're home."

"So she doesn't kill me?" Maverick asked.

"As an apology for not being able to let her yell at you." Everleigh grimaced.

Stevie smiled. "She'll appreciate it."

...

"How are these bags heavier when you gave them all the Dewey gifts?" Brendon whined as he lifted the suitcases onto the curb.

"It's 'cause I sto—Nothing."

Did Stevie clean up her room at home that housed her entire vinyl collection? Sure. They were about to enter a new year. It wasn't a crime to want to start fresh. Did that sudden room in his vinyl collection have anything to do with meeting up with Maverick knowing he was likely bringing a few of his with him? Not at all. She had class.

"I'm telling you there wasn't anything left in our room—Brendon even checked for you—" Everleigh said as they rounded the vehicle.

"I'm telling you we're missing—" Maverick stopped. Spotted a smiling Stevie Kealoha twirling in place. "Stevie."

"Stevie's right there—"

"First your hearing. Now your sight." Stevie shook her head. "What's next, Maverick?"

"You little—"

"Will you relax?" Everleigh asked.

Stevie stopped herself from laughing. "Hope you have a safe flight back to London. Must have a lot of great music waiting back at your apartment—or should I say flat."

Maverick glared at her. "I'm so happy we're done."

"Told you not to bring vinyl with you, Kingston," Everleigh scolded. "You didn't even listen to it—"

"That doesn't mean it's hers—"

According to the contents of Stevie's suitcase, it did.

"Consider it part of my Christmas present," Stevie said.

"What about all those other times—" Brendon started to say. Must have still been a little salty about the four a.m. wake-up call.

"Presents for bringing such joy to his life every day."

"Lucky me," Maverick deadpanned.

Stevie reached into her bag before she forgot. Pulled out something she hadn't even wrapped, partially because she forgot to but also because she couldn't wrap objects that didn't have four ninety-degree corners.

"Here." Handed it off to Maverick.

There were a handful of snowglobes she could have purchased online, but they didn't quite capture Windsor the way she wanted them to, so she had it handmade. In the center was a picture from the first Christmas Stevie and Maverick had spent together. On the back, a handwritten note: to the other half of my brain cell. thanks for making all of my christmases bright.

"Album wrap party gift," she explained.

"You—" Maverick's lip started trembling. "Fuck you. I was so going to cry on the plane like a normal person—"

If they hadn't already proved otherwise, that weekend would have been enough for the other two in their party to agree that Stevie and Maverick were anything but normal.

"Thank you, Stevie," Everleigh said.

"Thank you," he repeated. "I regret mailing your present. Should've made you suffer in public."

"Was fire signs in Chicago not enough?" Stevie asked. Now that the second Maverick had written about their friendship was released for public consumption, she not only got to cry in public whenever she listened to it, she also got to watch the entire world cry along with her. She spent so much of her career being the artist while the rest of the world was her muse that she forgot how to function when the roles were reversed.

"That was months ago—"

"I hope you go through security and think you're fine but then you get to your gate and you're waiting to board and you end up sobbing next to an old man chewing with his mouth open so you know how I felt—"

"You were surrounded by friends—"

"Thanks, babes," said Everleigh.

"—That's completely different than strangers—"

"Say sorry," Brendon demanded. "You didn't mean it."

"Why do I always have to say sorry—"

Stevie narrowed her eyes threateningly. "Say you're sorry or I'm taking the snowglobe back."

"I'm sorry," he choked out.

"Okay. We really do have to go so—" Brendon took a step back.

Stevie and Maverick stared at each other. Well, shit.

"Um... Okay... I guess we'll just—" Stevie started crying.

Brendon sighed. "This is why we leave for the airport two hours earlier than we need to."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Everleigh groaned.

As life went on and they spent more and more time in completely different time zones, Stevie and Maverick struggled to say goodbyes. They were lucky they had goodbyes so difficult to make as it meant they had something that made the pain worth all the good. But it didn't make any of it easier.

"Why don't I take Bash's seat and Bash can have mine—"

"Absolutely not," Brendon interrupted immediately. "I've been stuck in this damn blizzard and I want to go lay down on a beach with actual sunlight."

"But what if we don't see each other for—" Stevie sniffled. "I think we should go back."

"I think so too," Maverick agreed.

"... Stevie, lovely. Are you not flying out next weekend—" Everleigh said.

"It's gonna feel like an eternity—" Stevie moaned.

Brendon looked to the other Luigi. "Don't tell me they forgot—"

"I already have the bed made up," said Maverick. "I can't even prep which means I can't even look forward to it because everything's ready—"

Stevie understood exactly what he meant.

"That doesn't make any sense—" Everleigh pinched the bridge of her nose.

She had clearly decided she didn't have any more patience for the two of them and took her carry-on bag with her as she started walking inside the airport with Brendon following along right beside her.

"Is he saying the bed's ready 'cause they both know they're seeing each other in a week or because he always has it ready for her to visit?" Brendon asked, loudly enough for Stevie to hear but not loudly enough for her to pay much attention.

"I think it's both," Everleigh tossed over her shoulder.

"But a week is a long time for the bed to be empty—" Maverick argued.

They all pulled up to the board with all of the gate numbers. Everleigh and Brendon searched for their respective gates while Stevie and Maverick returned to their usual routine of spiraling.

"What if Dewey goes into the room thinking I'm there but I'm not—" She gasped. Nearly cried another set of fresh tears. "Oh god, he's gonna think I abandoned him too—"

"No, he's not," Brendon said. "What the fu—"

"You're going to have to FaceTime him—" Maverick said.

"Of course, of course." Stevie nodded. "Don't want him to forget what I look like. And like, well, we have to do our daily performances of Defying Gravity." Not to mention their new festive version for the holidays. They had fresh material for a daily double feature.

Everleigh spun around. "Can I reiterate that's not happening next weekend—"

"Why do you hate us?"

Brendon ignored Maverick's outburst. "Didn't you guys practice a whole choreographed thing for this?"

"Uh..." Yes. "No." She sent Maverick a panicked look. "We wouldn't do that. But if we did, it would be a surprise."

"Because Everleigh loves surprises—" Maverick said.

"I hate surprises—"

"Especially for a milestone birthday."

"We're breaking up before the next one."

Stevie jumped in. "He's my plus one."

Brendon stared at her. "Hello?"

"New plan." Everleigh rested her hand on the handle of her carry-on. "Brendon's the only one invited and we're drinking, listening to country music, and getting a good night's sleep?"

Brendon nodded. "I agree with this plan."

"That sounds like no fun," Maverick said. "Boring. Lame."

"And who's gonna eat all the birthday cookies if it's just the two boring losers there? They'll probably just end up throwing them at each other—" Stevie said.

Brendon pressed his lips together. "We really need to go now."

"Bye." Everleigh didn't bother waving. "Have a safe fli—"

Maverick hurled himself so hard at Brendon that his glasses took flight.

"Oh, bloody hell." Everleigh rolled her eyes.

Brendon patted his back a few times. "That's enough of that. Bye, Maverick."

Stevie couldn't judge him for that one because she did the same to Everleigh, sans glasses. "Goodbye, love of my life. Thank you for baking all the cookies. I don't know how I'll survive without them."

Brendon peeled her off the stiff woman. "Reminding you once again that we are seeing them again in a week."

"I'll back some chai sugar cookies for next Friday, okay?" Everleigh asked.

"You'll make some—" Stevie wanted to cry. "Are you sure? It's your birthday, is that too much?"

"They're just cookies," Brendon scoffed. "I think she can manage."

Everleigh took a cautious step back. "Friday's baking day anyway, Stevie—"

"God, you're so nice." Red love hearts glowed from within Maverick's eyes. "I love you."

"I love you more—" rushed out of Stevie.

"And I'm going to leave soon," Brendon announced, "so if you're getting on the plane—" He bumped fists with Everleigh before taking off. "Later, Meadowlark."

"Bye, Bash."

Maverick and Stevie stood still, watching as their respective partners walked off toward their gates. The reality that their weekend had come to an end didn't just hit her once. It hit her over and over again like she was a contestant in one of those Japanese game shows where people got their asses handed to them by obstacle courses designed by the devil himself.

"Do you actually think they'll leave without us... ?" Maverick trailed off.

"I... I think so. Also, he took my backpack with my wallet and ID so—"

"I guess we really do have to go."

"I guess so..." Stevie hugged him. Squeezed tighter than she needed to. Saying goodbye would never be easy no matter how many times they practised it. "Love you."

"Love you too." He hugged her back. "Fly safe."

"Call me when you land, please."

"I will. I promise. Text me when you land even when I'm still in the air."

"Better yet, if they have wifi, pay for it and I'll reimburse you. Need to send you all the sad songs I'm gonna listen to on our flight."

"You don't have to reimburse. Obviously, I'll pay for wifi. We could make a collaborative playlist."

"I'll send you the link but I insist. It'll be part of your Christmas present."

Before she could suggest songs to get their playlist started, Stevie was pulled back by a tight grip on the back of her shirt. Brendon didn't look even remotely amused.

"Maverick we are leaving. Goodbye."

"No," Stevie weaseled out of his grip, "we weren't done yet."

"Bash, you're such a party pooper—" Maverick complained, only to then be yanked by the ear himself.

"We have to go," Everleigh snapped.

"We were saying goodbye—"

"I will grab you by the fucking nose ring if you don't come with me—"

"Just one more hug, I promise—" Stevie begged.

But it was no use. With one swift, clean move, Brendon heaved her onto his shoulder and used his other free hand to push the luggage cart he had secured while Stevie and Maverick were delaying their goodbyes.

"Goodbye, Maverick."

"Goodbye—" Stevie called with an outstretched hand.

"Love y—" What Stevie assumed was a sharp pain of his nose ring being pulled stopped him. "Ow, I'm coming—"

Brendon only placed her down once they were outside of the security Pre-Check line. Handed her the paper ticket. (Quietly reminded her to not lose it because she would want to use it in her junk journal.) (A new hobby she formed earlier that year when she ran into a couple of girls at SFO.) Kissed her forehead and reminded her that every goodbye gave her a new opportunity to say hello soon. Stevie nestled herself into his side and counted down from ten to calm herself down.

She stared up at the sign at their gate—CALGARY to HONOLULU. She had never been so nervous to return home, and she couldn't even put into words why or how she had gotten there. But the hand that slipped into hers and intertwined their fingers made her pulse slow into a much more comfortable pace. For someone who spent his entire life in overdrive, he knew how to slow her down at any given moment.

"Deep breaths," he said. "We're going home."

She stared up at him and smiled. A million unresolved feelings still needed a bit more clarity in her life, but who he was and what he meant to her would never be one of those things. Like Kingston Maverick, Brendon Ellis would always be her home.

"Home. We're going home."

THE END

...

2024 has been a year of a great many things. many of them less than favorable. but my saving grace this year and every year since we first met is jordan. thank you for being my moment, jordan, and letting our bozos bring me light on even the darkest of nights.

mahalo to everyone who's joined us on our many journeys. hope this christmas special brought a smile to your face as many times as it did mine.

love,

steph