Disclaimer: I don't own iZombie or any of the characters.

Absolute Beginners

One

Blaine sat rubbing his temples, grateful for the space to breathe and think in peace. And of all places, for it to be in the basement of a funeral home... But beggars couldn't be choosers, and after recent events he really needed this. Once his head stopped throbbing he got up to pace the room. He was struck by a sudden desire that was immediately followed by pain.

Grandpa. Blaine's eyes drifted to where he kept the man's brain. He thought he was being so clever, but the plan blew up in his face. His grandfather was dead for nothing. If he ever found the one who was killing zombies, they would pay. Until then, missing the talks and the close bond was pointless. His cell phone ringing cut through his thoughts and he fished it out of his pocket, wondering what new problem needed his attention.

"Hello."

"Hi, John Deaux? This is Peyton Charles." His mood took a complete one-eighty, a smile forming on his lips.

"It's good to hear from you, Peyton." Her name rolled off easily even though they only met twice. "Or maybe not so good, since I told you to call if you were worried about the tiny terrible Boss. Has he threatened you again?"

"No, but one of his people was found dead and strung up to a Christmas tree, another was brought in for questioning, and Boss himself was in the police station not long ago." Blaine let out a whistle. So he wasn't the only one having a rough day.

"I'm guessing this story doesn't end with Stacey Boss behind bars."

"If it did, you and I would be celebrating with spiked eggnog right now." There was a brief silence and then Peyton's voice was back: "Now that I say it out loud, spiked eggnog sounds really good. You up for it even without the jailed Boss?"

"You know," he said, "you're right. That does sound really good. I'm in."

Blaine didn't usually do anything without a plan, yet an hour later he did exactly that as he met up with Peyton. He went with dress casual: dark jeans and a blue collar shirt with a warm jacket thrown on. Then Peyton showed up and he stopped feeling the cold entirely. Though she was casually dressed in a sweater, pants and boots, she was still gorgeous. As much as Blaine wanted to knock Boss off his pedestal, he was grateful for the man at the moment.

"All right, mister. I brought the good stuff," she announced, holding up the liquor. "Let's make some Christmas spirit."

Blaine couldn't remember the last time he made spiked eggnog with anyone, and certainly not with this much fun. Peyton managed to keep up with his banter and brought out a few laughs. By the time they created the perfect drink, all the crap of earlier was far out of his mind. They filled two thermoses and took their drinks out while looking at Christmas lights and talking. Peyton proved to be very easy to talk with. She initially impressed him with facing down Stacey Boss, but now he found she was funny, smart, witty and with just the right amount of quirky.

"I can't say I've met many women who consider Gremlins to be a Christmas classic," he remarked in amusement, sipping his drink. "You're such a weirdo."

"Says the guy who can call both Led Zepplin and Frederic Chopin his 'jam'," she retorted. That got him to laugh again. It was so nice to hang out with someone and not talk about zombies or brains or tainted Utopium. Blaine had no idea how badly he needed someone like this until she was here.

They continued down the street, pausing now and then to give commentary on the light displays. The conversation drifted from favorite music and bands to favorite movie actors.

"Jimmy Stewart?" Peyton awed. "No way."

"I've only seen Rope about ten times," he told her, shrugging his shoulders casually.

"Only ten, huh? Then you've got a ways to go to catch up with me and Vertigo." Blaine was liking this woman more by the minute.

"I do a pretty good Jimmy Stewart impression. Want to hear it?"

"I'm afraid I'll have to insist on it." He obliged, using a few famous Stewart quotes and loving how it made her smile. "So you were being modest when you said 'pretty good'," she noted.

"I like to lower people's expectations so they end up being that much more impressed."

"Looks like it works."

This was so easy, and he hardly had to try at all. It was wonderful and strange knowing that just being himself was enough. They tilted toward each other and met halfway for a kiss. This was the first kiss since Blaine was given the cure and he could feel the difference: the rush of pleasure and excitement that did not result in a rage-out, the taste of her lips sweetened by the spiked eggnog, the peace of only having his own thoughts and emotions, the warmth of her body as she responded…

They parted but stayed close, enjoying the intimacy of the after-moment. Blaine played with her hair and found her fingers doing the same in his. They grinned at each other.

"Come on," she urged him. "Let's go before we turn into a Hallmark greeting card."

The evening was winding down as they finished off the last of the spiked eggnog. It was just about as perfect an evening as Blaine could want, and there were no tricks or lies involved. Just two people who liked each other's company.

"I'd like to see you again," Blaine told her, "but let's not wait until someone else gets strung up on Christmas lights."

"Deal," Peyton agreed. They shared a parting kiss and headed their separate ways.

It wasn't until much later that the thought finally hit him: what the hell am I doing? She was the assistant district attorney. There were so many reasons why this was a terrible idea. But thinking of her laugh and the way it felt to kiss her made it very hard for him to care.