let it
S N O W

Dedication: For Koli, who needs a little warming up in these cold winter months, despite the fact that she's probably warmer than I am. :)

Note: I felt the need to say that I am in no way associated with Perez Hilton, nor have I ever met him. I'm sure he's a pretty cool dude; I just mentioned him briefly as a quasi-joke. You'll get it. I think.

Macy was staring cross-eyed at a bit of hair that had managed to fall out of her ponytail a total of thirty-seven times. (Yes, she counted, what of it?) She had tried several different heights and positions on her head, but the same darn lock of hair managed to separate itself from the rest of her hair every time and fall into her face. Finally, with a groan, she got up from her desk chair and stomped off to her room to get a little clip that would keep it out of her face.

What? Just because she was athletic didn't mean she couldn't occasionally be lazy.

On her way back to the desk, she decided that she might as well make herself some hot chocolate. It wasn't getting any warmer and with the heater on the fritz like it was, it could take hours before it would shudder back to life. She pushed the dial higher on the temperature gauge, hoping that it would somehow convince the machine to kick-start, and went to make herself a nice, hot mug of cocoa.

She settled back into her desk chair some time later, already trying to get some feeling back into her scalded tongue. But was the pain and numbness worth the heat that traveled down her throat? Yes. Without a doubt.

Macy was trying to edit some pictures together for the winter layout of the website. Key word being trying. Nick's hair was being stubborn again and refused to select when she went in to edit him on top of the first layer and Kevin's guitar strings, pointing every which way from the top of the neck, would need to be completely erased before she could even begin to think about putting him on the next layer. Of course, she was going to have to have a serious conversation with Stella about the ties that she gave Joe. Honestly! A white necktie with musical notes all over it? It was difficult enough to put these pictures together without having to work around that tie, flopping all in the air as the boy performed in his usual crazy manner.

She had just given up the winter layout and started working on the special, surprise Christmas version (which included, but was not limited to, Nick wearing reindeer ears, Joe in an elf costume, and Kevin as Santa Claus, minus the beard) when there was a knock on the door. And as tempted as she was to yell, "It's open!" at whoever it was, she decided that it was probably best to make sure it wasn't a serial killer before inviting them into her home.

She got a pleasant surprise when she looked out the peephole. With a grin, she opened the door. "Hey, Kevin! What're you doing here?"

"Well, considering the fact that our publicist yelled at Nick when he called to ask about the most recent press release and then burst into tears on the phone, I thought now would be a good time to visit and see if you're alright," Kevin said, smiling at her in that special way that only Kevin can smile.

Macy winced. "Sorry about that, by the way. It's just been really stressful, with the holidays and everything. And, well, my little brother proposed to his girlfriend the other day."

"Shouldn't you be… happy about that?" the man asked as she moved to allow him inside. He smoothly hid the fact that he was hiding one arm behind his back by kicking the door closed and wrapping his free arm around her shoulders to lead her to the couch. Once he had her safely in front of him, he set what he was holding on the desk and followed to sit with her. "I mean, he's going to get married."

"Oh, I'm happy for him," the brunette reassured, waving her hand dismissively. She sighed and smiled wryly up into Kevin's eyes. "I'd really rather we didn't talk about it. How's Nick, since you brought him up?"

"He'll recover. He was in a state of shock, though, after he hung up," Kevin said, giving her a squeeze that reminded her that he still had his arm around her shoulders. She blushed. "You've only ever yelled at us once before, and never like that."

She winced again. "Like I said, it's just been so stressful lately. With Nick's side project—which I'm also publicizing, I might inform you—and Joe's acting career taking off; it's a struggle for me to fight off the bloodhounds. I paid a personal visit to Perez Hilton's house earlier this week to try to convince him not to post any more about the possibility of the band breaking up. And with Nick and that… that thing breaking up on the road, I was tearing my hair out."

That thing happened to be Nick's one-time girlfriend and part of the security team that followed him and the Admin, a girl who had immediately gone to the press and raised hell about their break-up. It was worse than Miley Stewart way-back-when. It was worse than That One Girl that Joe had dated before Stella came to her senses. It was even worse than when Fiona Skye had launched herself at Kevin for a second attack at the brothers. Macy had been up to her ears in bad press for two solid weeks—before everything suddenly disappeared, thanks to a few choice phone calls to a few choice people who owed her major favors.

Of course, it also helped that she had fan clubs across the world at her back as well, willing to claw out the eyes of anyone who dared to make life difficult for the band or Macy.

Kevin laughed and removed the arm around Macy's shoulders so that he could give her hand a squeeze before he stood. "Why don't I make you something to cheer you up? You're obviously too stressed to cook for yourself."

"You can say it, you know," she told him, squeezing his knee, the closest part of him she could reach now that he'd stood. "That even you are a better cook than I am."

"I resent that," he said, chuckling nonetheless. He moved toward the kitchen, which was still visible when Macy stopped pretending she wasn't tired and laid down, resting her head on the cushion that had been under his arm when he sat down earlier. She saw him getting out a frying pan and the package of bologna—oh. She pressed her face into the throw pillow so she could hide her delighted grin.

She was caught off guard by the smell that struck her in a wave. It wasn't as though she wasn't familiar with the scent—it was something she'd slowly become accustomed to over the years. Rather, it held a kind of nostalgia. After all this time, Stella used the same kind of detergent. She smothered a laugh. Some people had lucky socks, whereas Stella had lucky detergents; once she'd decided on the one that worked, she hadn't changed. Macy inhaled again, letting the piney perfume assault her senses. But she knew that nostalgia wasn't the only motivator for her. Old Spice was mixed in with the scent of the detergent, which was certainly pleasing. And she wasn't complaining about the way it reminded her of her dad.

But that wasn't it and she knew it. There was something more to the scent—something musky and male and magnificent—something that gave her an entirely different reason to smile. She really didn't want to think about it, not with him right there in the kitchen, but she conceded to herself that it wasn't really her fault. If he hadn't come, she wouldn't be pressing her face into a pillow to inhale his scent like a drug addict after the faintest trail of crack.

She pulled her nose away from the scent when it felt like her lungs could take no more and she smiled contentedly at Kevin's distant back. For what wasn't the first time out of the many he'd come over, she was glad that the stove was where it was. If he didn't want to crispy-fry her food, he had to stay turned away from her. It seemed to take forever for him to finish cooking, but he finally did and came back with a smug smile on his face.

He had reason to be smug. He placed the plate on the coffee table and waited as she stared in awe. After a few moments, she remembered how to breathe and whispered, "You didn't."

"I did."

"But… you couldn't."

"I could."

"You've never done it before."

"I did. You were distracted."

Macy looked up and gave him the eye. Pain crossed his face for a moment before he ground out, "Charlie."

"Oh." Charlie.

Charlie was the reason she hadn't been in a serious relationship since college three years ago. Charlie was the indirect cause of her grief over her little brother's marriage. Charlie was the man who had ripped her heart out of her chest and stomped it until it was a pulpy mess and then skipped merrily out of the room with his new boyfriend. Yes, boyfriend.

As in, the opposite of girlfriend.

As in, If my dad had found out I was gay before he died, I wouldn't have gotten my inheritance and the only reason I dated you was to put my family off the trail until he kicked the bucket.

"Who told you?" she asked fearfully, as though his answer was something to be worried about.

He chuckled again. "Your mother, Macy. I promise there was no scandal. No baby pictures, no trophy hall—"

"How did you know about the trophy hall?!"

"Stella warned me," Kevin said soothingly. He picked up her hand in his and squeezed it gently. "Why are you so worried that your mother will go out of her way to embarrass you? She was really nice. She gave me sugar-free cookies."

"Oh, Lord, now she thinks you're Nick." Macy hid her face in her hands and peeked out at the very appetizing-looking sandwiches. "It was really sweet of you, but I'm not sure I'm going to be able to eat these. It feels like eating contraband now."

"Macy!"

"Fine, then!" she snapped. She picked up the first perfect triangle and eyed it. There, in between the bread, one slice white and one slice wheat, toasted to crisp perfection, was her fried bologna. She knew without having to pry the bread apart that there would be mayonnaise on the wheat slice and mustard on the white. As she looked, she realized that he'd even sacrificed some of her all-but-sacred cheddar cheese for the cause. Tears welled up in her eyes and she could no longer bear the thought of turning down these sandwiches, simply for all the thought that had gone into them.

She took the first bite and melted, realizing that she hadn't known just how hungry she was. If she'd had room for thought on the matter, she would have realized that the last time she ate a proper meal was two days before and she'd been working on cereal and handfuls of potato chips since. As it was, she was having trouble focusing on chewing.

Kevin laughed when he saw the absolute bliss on the girl's face and couldn't resist some attempted interference. He got farther than he normally would have, considering she was so distracted. He managed to pull the sandwich from her hands and, ignoring her adorable mew of protest, took a single bite. After that, the sandwich was back in her grasp and he made no move to suggest he'd even completed just an act, except for a slight shift in his jaw as he moved the bite of sandwich further back in his mouth.

Macy gaped. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she narrowed her eyes in her fiercest glare.

Why was this unusual? It wasn't, not really. Macy was perfectly comfortable getting mad at a JONAS these days. Joe got this look all the time, every day, for every obnoxious word that came out of his mouth. It had almost become an affectionate gesture. Nick got this look if he started with another of his crazy schemes. Note the word started—he rarely had the courage to complete them these days. Stella got this look whenever she managed to drop by the apartment. It was usually the result of some stunt the blonde and Joe had pulled recently that Macy'd had to clean up, or some foolish style choice that made it that much harder for her to edit pictures (as if Nick's hair and Kevin's guitar strings and Joe's Ray Bans weren't enough).

The thing was, Kevin never got that look. Ever. The first and only time he had ever managed to anger her enough was Stella's forgotten birthday way back in high school. It had been such a long time since that fury was focused on him that he simply froze. He forgot to chew, forgot to swallow, forgot anything at all. It was lucky that some instinct kept him breathing or else, well…

After a long, charged moment, the woman growled, "Give it back."

"What?" he mumbled around the bite of sandwich.

She held her hand just under his chin, still glaring as though he had killed her firstborn. Okay, well, maybe not something that extreme. But she was still glaring at him really ferociously. Seriously. It was terrifying.

"Give. It. Back." She twitched her fingers insistently, watching as he flinched away from the nails that grazed his face. "I want that bite of sandwich back. Now."

"What?!" he said again, this time with incredulity. "No way!"

"Yes, way. It's my sandwich and you stole it from me!"

"One bite!"

"I'll get it back, one way or another."

"Oh, really?"

The challenge in his voice irked her. Did he really doubt that she would be able to do this? She knew ways to force his mouth open. She could tickle him and wait for him to laugh. But then he might choke on it and die. And while that didn't seem so bad now, she knew she'd regret it when she was rational. She could stomp on his foot and fish it out when he gasped in pain. But he might also swallow on reflex and she'd lose the bite of heaven, or he might accidentally clamp down on her fingers. She liked her right hook—she didn't want to damage it by getting Kevin's teeth stuck in her hand.

Another idea struck her and, seeing as it was the best one yet, she sprung into action. Macy lurched herself across the space between her and Kevin, intent on her goal. Her lips pressed firmly over his, ignoring his gasp of shock, and went to work. Needless to say, by the time she got to the point where she was able to take back the bite of sandwich, she didn't want it anymore.

Over the next few hours, she and Kevin talked about certain things.

Things like her resentment that her younger brother would be getting married before she did (although, admittedly, it was more to do with the fact the bride was turning into Godzilla).

Things like the fact that Kevin had brought over popcorn and movies for their bi-monthly catch-up session, just in case they got too professional (they both hated that word applied to their relationship).

Things like how they could share the rest of the bologna sandwiches in peace, so long as Kevin didn't steal any more bites right from under her nose (though they agreed that there was a certain way either one was allowed to steal/steal back a bite… if they dared).

Things like how Kevin had known for a while that Macy was addicted to his piney Old Spice scent, but he'd been waiting for her to say something.

Things like the fact that he was just as addicted to her coconut-smelling shampoo and the lavender body spray she wore out of habit to keep herself calm.

And after they were done talking, they just sat for a while.

"I should go," he said, for what seemed like the millionth time in two hours. Macy's arm wrapped tighter around his waist and he chuckled. "It was snowing when I came in, Mace. I don't want to—"

She cut him off by covering his mouth and gave him one of her (semi-) rare glares. "Let it snow. I'm warm enough here. Aren't you?"

He just smiled and pressed his lips to hers.

-

end

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a/n: Wow. I've been working on this, but I didn't expect it to be done so quickly. One-third of it was written today. xD Guess I was unnaturally focused or something.

I'm not nearly as picky as Macy, but I hold fried bologna sandwiches in high regard. I seriously considered changing the title for that reason, but I decided to continue with what I started. The ending's a little weak, but I'm satisfied.

Love for you all—especially Koli! :)
Babs