Speak Low, If You Speak Love

As the cold December air snuck into the house in violent gusts, Leighton could feel her heart stop. Jack had done many incredulous things in his life. He had defaced school property, totalled his father's precious Mustang and mooned a fleet of policemen in a drunken haze, but never had he ever set foot on the Walshs' property without notice in the past four years. In Leighton's opinion, this was the most shocking of any situation.

"Can I come in?" he asked, his hands dug deeply in his pockets.

Leighton was at a loss for words. Her mother took care of that quickly.

"Honey, who is it?"

"I-it's Jack, mom."

They both turned to watch as the gray-haired woman entered the room, Ava perched on her hip. "Jack Barakat? Does he know what time it is?"

"Yeah, ma." She looked over at the gangly brunette, creaking open the door ever so slightly. He stepped into the brightly lit home and smiled at the beaming toddler. It took every bit of Leighton's willpower not to smile, too. She met her mother's gaze. "We won't be long, I promise." Her mother gave her a dubious look, but she merely nodded, heading back to the kitchen.

Ava rested her cheek against her grandmother's arm, smiling as she waved at Jack. "Bye bye."

He waved back and chuckled. "Bye."

Once they had disappeared behind the swinging door, he turned around to face Leighton. "She's cute."

"Thanks. She's all her mother." A silence fell over the two of them. Hesitant, she pursued. "She seems to have taken a real liking to you."

A smirk escaped the confines of his lips. "She's a poor judge of character."

Leighton walked past him and started up the stairs. "You can say that again," she murmured, praying to God he hadn't heard her. She signalled for him to follow and he did, all the way to her room.

It was quite spacious. A queen-size bed lay in the centre of the room's focal wall, adorned with rumpled bed sheets, mangled pillows and ancient stuffed animals. He eyed a window seat and went to sit down as Leighton disappeared into the bathroom. She emerged moments later, dressed in a long sleeve flannel undershirt and a pair of distressed plaid boxers.

She hated to admit it, but she was frightened. In all the years Leighton had known Jack Barakat, she could never recall a time when he had come to her house merely to talk. Even when they were little, there was always an underlining reason. It was always for homework help or hooking up, but never talking. Legs crossed, she faced the surprise visitor, waiting for an explanation of some sort.

He started by clearing his throat. "I'm sorry if I interrupted your evening."

She merely shook her head. He nodded.

"Right, well, I know that it's kind of late. Actually, it's early if you think about it -"

"Jack. I'm already lost and if this has anything to do with sex, then you can leave right now."

"It doesn't." He shook his head. "It doesn't."

She sighed. "Alright, go ahead."

"What I meant was it's a late hour to be bugging you, but it's a bit early for Christmas."

Leighton couldn't help but smile. It was only the 16th; Christmas was still a while away.

"I'd like to give you your present now, all the same."

This caught Leighton off guard. "Beg your pardon?"

"I wanna give you your present now." He gave her an earnest glance. "If it's okay with you."

She paused for a moment. There wasn't any reason she could think of that would, could or should force Jack to abstain from giving her her gift a few days early. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes, it's fine."

He reached into the pocket in the lining of his coat and yanked out a folded manila envelope. Handing it over, Jack could feel his palms starting to sweat. He rubbed them against his thighs and watched as her slender fingers tore open the flap.

"What is it?" she asked, more confused than curious. Leighton slid the stapled sheets out of the envelope and scanned the document with fervour, her eyes wandering the pages, roaming each and every line. Finally, she looked up at Jack. His brown eyes shone elusively in the dimly lit room. Hers narrowed. "This is a deed."

Suddenly, she felt stupid. She knew he knew what it was. She fell silent for a moment before continuing, this time, reading aloud. Leighton was also fairly certain that he knew what it said, but the commentary was for herself, not for him.

"Declaration of Condo registered to Jack Bassam Barakat and Leighton Farah Walsh. This property, upon finalization of transaction, is legally awarded to said person or persons by Laurence James Grenwich and Jane Ann Grenwich - Jack, what the hell is this?"

He blinked. "It's the deed to a condo. Our condo, if you sign it."

"Our condo? When did we decide this?"

Jack smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "Merry Christmas."

Leighton didn't know what to say. Not only had he come banging on her door at a quarter to midnight, but he'd brought a goddamn deed with him. The idiocy of this entire situation was almost too much for her. She gave him a withering look. "This is my Christmas gift? You want me to move in with you? Jack, we're not even dating!"

"I don't care," he replied.

Furious, Leighton stood up. "You said this wasn't about sex, Barakat. What a lie. What a big, fat, fucking lie."

"It's not a lie!" he yelled. "I want you to move in with me because you're my best friend and you're a good person. I think it could work, and not for the reasons you're thinking."

"So you honestly have no intention of sleeping with me if I move in with you?"

He grinned devilishly. "I never said that."

"Whoa, whoa. Slow your roll, Rico Suave. I'm drawing the line here. You have to choose. Roommate or fuck buddy? Cause you can't have both and I won't be both."

Jack stopped his flirtatious banter when he realized she was being serious. It didn't matter, though. He'd anticipated this; his choice had been made long before he'd ever stepped foot on her doorstep. "Roommate." He swallowed hard. "That's what I want. No tricks, no gimmicks. We'll be roommates, that's all."

Before she could make sense of what Jack had said, Leighton heard herself agree to the arrangement. He just smiled and kissed her before leaving the house. Even as their lips touched, Leighton knew it had all been a lie. There was no way they could both live under the same roof and not have sex. It was impossible in every sense of the word, and even if it was the truth, Leighton knew Jack didn't want her there because he cared about her. He wanted her there because he cared about Elysa, and Leighton was the perfect distraction.

Distraught, she caught herself staring at the deed, sprawled out across her window seat. As fresh snow tumbled from the sky and settled down on the ground, Leighton couldn't help but wish she had turned him down. She would have preferred a sweater set to this any day.