“And how do you deal with it all?”
“Well,” she began, “first, it’s best to admit that you’re not somehow safe from potential devastation by denying yourself a relationship. Case in point,” she gestured to their position in his office. He huffed into her shoulder. “Second, it’d be a damned crime not to take happiness where you can get it.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” They sat in silence for a while. Syler knew she was right. He’d been denying the possibility of something happening with Arthur from the very beginning, buried so deep in his own excuses and insecurities that he’d ended up taking advantage of the other man’s affections rather than address them. It was no wonder he’d stormed out. Seeing his easy friendship with Francesca when his own attempts were so constantly rebuffed must have been a slap in the face. Syler knew all too well what it was to be used.
“I’ve been a monumental asshole.”
Maria chuckled fondly. “So do you want him?”
“Yes.”
“Still scared?”
“Petrified.”
“Good,” she pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. “Means you have something worth fighting for.”
Syler smiled tightly, ready to try.
Twenty-Two
That turned out to be easier said than done. For the first time in their acquaintance, Arthur Dufault was actively avoiding him. He considered just calling him in, but his bravery only extended so far and he honestly worried Arthur wouldn’t show up if he did. Though, as the days passed and the holidays approached, he began to reconsider that he might have to. An entire week went by without Dufault so much as stepping foot in the bullpen.
He forced himself to focus his nervous energy on his work, continuing to put out feelers on the Pyrona situation, who had remained considerately quiet in deference to his personal crisis. His agents were outfitted and overseen. His requisitions forms were in order. His meetings went off without a hitch. Everything was going well but for one glaring exception.
By Wednesday, he resorted to setting a security alert for Dufault’s ID badge, prepared to hunt the other man down the moment he stepped foot in the building. It was the 23rd and the agency would be all but closed for the following week, just a skeleton crew left behind to provide support to field agents and maintain security. He wanted to see the other man before then least they go on like this until New Years.
In the meantime, he tinkered. Well, continued to tinker. He’d ordered the collector’s Rolex watch a month prior, still laboring under the absurd impression he was just very fond of his friend. Now he was just putting the finishing touches on it. As he settled the facing back into place, his tablet pinged an alert. Sighing, he rubbed a thumb over the name engraved on the back before putting it back in its box. Time to go have a chat.
He stood from his chair, box tucked under his arm, and pulled the door open to find Dufault on the other side, expression torn. Trust the blond menace to reappear when he’d finally resolved to hunt him down.
“I was just going to look for you,” he began. Arthur thrust a box in his direction, already turning to leave. “Oh no you don’t.” He tugged him back by the collar, pulling him into the office and shoving him bodily onto the couch, sitting down besides him.
“Now then, I’ve got something for you as well. Shall we exchange gifts properly?”
He smiled thinly. “Yeah, fine, make a big deal of it why don’t you.”
Syler tore at the ribbon on the parcel, littering the floor with little bits of shredded paper, and slipped the cover off of the thin box. Inside, he found a monogrammed cashmere scarf and matching hat, nestled below a set of fingerless knitted gloves. He fingered the soft gray material gently.
Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly. “You always look cold when you leave and you complain that gloves get in the way of using your touchscreens, so...”
“Thank you.” He smiled softly, turning to face him. “Open yours.”
“I know when I’m holding a watch case, Perrin,” Arthur quipped, teasing tone coming back as he lifted the lid.
“Yes, but this is a special watch.”
“It’s a very expensive watch.”
“Mmhm, and it opens locks. Automatically, in fact. Magnetic unscrambler, just press here.” Syler slid his hand over Arthur’s, showing him the knob.
Arthur’s eyebrows went up, amused despite himself, recalling their first assignment together. “Does it now?”
“I don’t give watches to Francesca,” he continued, turning their hands and the watch over. Arthur traced a thumb over the engraving of his first name, smiling gently.
“You don’t say.”
“I also haven’t assigned her a specialty car, but maybe don’t tell her that.”
“Sonya’s mine then?”
“You did finish her.” Arthur’s grin grew as he clipped the new watch into place, turning to Syler’s gift box. He pulled out the hat, tucking it neatly over Syler’s riotous dark curls before wrapping the scarf snugly around his neck. “We’re indoors, Arthur.”
The other man practically beamed. “We could be outdoors though! Shall we take Sonya out for a little test drive, sweetheart?”
“Oh, why not.”
---
“New suit?” he inquired, bumping his shoulder up against Syler as they stepped into the parking garage. He ran his eyes over the other man unabashedly, drinking in the sight of him after a miserable week hiding away to lick his wounds. Injured pride was a helluva thing.
Syler fingered the dark green lapels of his coat, new gloves peeking out from the cuffs and wrapping around to his first knuckle, a handsome contrast against his fair skin. “Gerald commissioned it for me as an apology for stealing away the rest of my clothes for alterations. Or possibly that was just an excuse. Either way, it felt appropriately festive.”
Arthur hummed, hands tucked into his pockets as he waited for Syler to retrieve the keys to Sonya. “And what are you doing with your long holiday, Mr. Perrin?”
Syler snorted. “Working.” He tossed Arthur the keys from the
