Chapter 25: The Holiday Lull
December 24, 2008 - Evening - Tedd's Apartment
The Christmas tree was pathetic and perfect.
Four feet tall, plastic branches slightly bent, ornaments mismatched from a drugstore clearance sale. Lorelei hung the last ball—red and silver, catching the string lights we'd strung haphazardly—and stepped back to admire our work.
"It's terrible," she said.
"It's ours."
Her toothbrush sat in my bathroom. Three of her dresses hung in my closet. Books she was reading cluttered my nightstand. Over the past month, she'd moved in incrementally, piece by piece, until my apartment had become our apartment without formal discussion.
The System tracked the domestic partnership behaviors automatically.
[ **ANALYZING: COHABITATION PATTERNS** ]
[ **SHARED SPACE BEHAVIORS: ESTABLISHED** ]
[ **DOMESTIC PARTNERSHIP PROBABILITY: 93%** ]
[ **RELATIONSHIP STABILITY: PEAK** ]
[ **ENERGY: 68/100** ]
She turned to me, expression vulnerable. "Is this okay? Me being here so much? I know we never officially—"
I pulled her close, cutting off the question. "It's more than okay. It's what I want."
"You're sure? Because I can slow down, keep my own place—"
"Lorelei." I tilted her chin up. "I want you here. All your things here. I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night. Clear enough?"
Her smile was radiant. "Crystal clear."
We cooked dinner together—chicken marsala that turned out surprisingly edible, roasted vegetables, wine she'd picked out because I still had terrible taste. The kitchen was small, forcing us to navigate around each other, bumping hips and stealing kisses between stirring and chopping.
Normal. Domestic. The kind of evening that would've been mundane if it weren't so precious.
After dinner, we sprawled on the couch, her head on my chest, watching some black-and-white Christmas movie neither of us paid attention to. The tree lights cast soft shadows across the walls. Outside, Sacramento was cold and quiet.
"This is nice," she whispered. "Just existing together. No investigations, no danger. Just us."
"We should do this more often."
"We will. Once we solve Miranda's case, once Wagner's identified or cleared, once everything settles..." She trailed off, knowing the promise was optimistic at best.
I held her tighter. Tomorrow was Christmas. Tonight was ours.
December 25, 2008 - Morning
The doorbell rang at eight AM.
Delivery driver, massive box labeled with my name, return address from Uncle Richard in San Francisco. I signed for it while Lorelei made coffee, both of us still in pajamas, hair messy, the comfortable dishevelment of people who'd just woken up together.
"Your family?" she asked, eyeing the box.
"Probably Christmas gifts. They always go overboard."
I opened it on the living room floor. Inside: designer watch for me, expensive scotch, leather briefcase I'd never use. Standard uncle gifts.
But underneath were three more packages. Each labeled in different handwriting: "For Lorelei."
She froze, coffee cup halfway to her lips. "What?"
I pulled them out. Aunt Marie, Aunt Helen, Uncle Marcus. Each with cards attached.
Aunt Marie's: Designer handbag, Prada, probably worth two thousand dollars. Card read: Welcome to the family! So glad Tedd found someone special.
Aunt Helen's: Jewelry set—earrings and necklace, elegant and understated. Card: Can't wait to meet you properly! Love already from what we've heard.
Uncle Marcus's: Check for five thousand dollars. Card: For the young couple. Invest it, enjoy it, or save it. Just be happy together.
Lorelei stared at the packages like they might explode. "They sent me gifts. They've never met me."
"They heard I'm serious about someone." I opened the scotch, suddenly needing it despite the early hour. "This is how they show approval."
"Five thousand dollars. From someone who's never met me." She picked up the check carefully. "Tedd, how wealthy is your family?"
The question hung heavy. I'd avoided this conversation deliberately, wanting her to know me before knowing my bank account. But the time had come.
"Multiple wealthy aunts and uncles," I said. "Tech investments mostly, some real estate. Trust funds I've barely touched. Regular substantial gifts because they like doing it." I met her eyes. "My detective salary is unnecessary. I work because I want to, not because I need to."
She processed silently, fingers tracing the check's edge. The System analyzed her emotional state.
[ **ANALYZING: LORELEI RESPONSE TO WEALTH REVELATION** ]
[ **INITIAL SURPRISE: 87%** ]
[ **PROCESSING: ACTIVE** ]
[ **GOLD-DIGGER MARKERS: NONE DETECTED** ]
[ **TRUST MAINTAINED: 94%** ]
[ **ENERGY: 71/100** ]
"Why didn't you tell me?" Not accusatory—just curious.
"Because I wanted you to know me first. Tedd the detective, the guy who fights over couches with Jane, the person who takes your investigation seriously. Not Tedd with the wealthy family and the trust fund."
"You thought I'd care about the money more than you."
"People do."
She set down the check, moved closer. "I fell for a cop who bought me expensive dinners but drove a five-year-old sedan and lived in a modest apartment. Who worked cases because he believed in justice, not because he needed the paycheck. The money's just..." She gestured at the packages. "Surprising. But it doesn't change anything."
[ **LIE PROBABILITY: 3% - GENUINE STATEMENT** ]
[ **AFFECTION UNAFFECTED BY WEALTH REVELATION** ]
[ **RELATIONSHIP STABILITY MAINTAINED** ]
"You're sure?" I asked.
"Positive." She kissed me, soft and certain. "Though I'm keeping the handbag. It's gorgeous."
I laughed despite the tension. "Keep all of it. They sent it for you."
"Your family's very generous."
"They're very invested in me being happy. And you make me happy, so they're invested in you."
We spent the rest of Christmas morning opening gifts—small things we'd bought each other, nothing expensive but thoughtful. She gave me a first edition of a detective novel I'd mentioned loving. I gave her a locket with space for photos.
By afternoon, we were back on the couch, leftovers for lunch, content in shared silence. The wealth conversation had happened and hadn't destroyed anything. If anything, it deepened trust—she'd chosen me before knowing about the money, and stayed after learning.
The System provided updates.
[ **RELATIONSHIP MILESTONE: FINANCIAL TRANSPARENCY** ]
[ **LORELEI MOTIVATIONS: CONFIRMED GENUINE** ]
[ **DOMESTIC PARTNERSHIP: SOLIDIFYING** ]
[ **NEW FUNDS: $5,000 (UNCLE MARCUS GIFT)** ]
[ **TOTAL AVAILABLE: $115,000** ]
[ **ENERGY: 73/100** ]
December 26, 2008 - Afternoon
Boxing Day was lazy decadence.
We stayed in bed until noon, talking about nothing important, making love slowly, dozing between conversations. No cases, no investigations, no Safe Harbor or Dr. Wagner. Just us, existing together in comfortable intimacy.
"I needed this," Lorelei said, tracing patterns on my chest. "Two days of not thinking about Miranda, or missing residents, or consultants with creepy questions."
"Safe Harbor reopens Monday."
"I know." She was quiet for a moment. "I'll be ready. But today, I'm just here with you."
"Good."
The System chimed softly.
[ **RELATIONSHIP STABILITY: 98%** ]
[ **INVESTIGATION TIMELINE: RESUMING IN 72 HOURS** ]
[ **CURRENT THREAT LEVEL: MODERATE** ]
[ **RECOMMENDATION: ENJOY PEACE WHILE AVAILABLE** ]
The warning was clear. This quiet moment wouldn't last. Safe Harbor would reopen, Lorelei would return to volunteering, Wagner would continue his predatory behavior. The investigation would escalate.
But for now, we had this. Two days of peace, domesticity, building something real before the storm resumed.
I pulled her closer, memorizing the moment—her warmth, her breathing, the way afternoon light filtered through the curtains. These were the memories we'd need when things got dangerous again.
And they would get dangerous. The System's warning, my instincts, Lorelei's own concerns—all pointed to escalation.
But that was Monday's problem. Today was ours.
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