Work Text:
Marcus rarely took the holidays off. Whilst the other agents had families to travel to, it was easier for Marcus to work throughout the holidays seeing as he had no one back home to celebrate with.
Just like this year. He had sent presents up to his parents, telling them he wouldn’t be able to visit again. They had been annoyed, reminding him that he hadn’t visited them for the past three Christmases or Thanksgivings, but he wouldn’t budge.
Anyway, he would get to spend it with you. Sort of.
As he sat in his office, twirling a personalised pen in his nimble fingers, he watched you typing away at your computer through the window. You had agreed to take the same shifts as him during the holidays, only giving a shrug when Marcus had asked why you weren’t visiting family this year.
As though you sensed someone watching you, you looked up and caught Marcus’ eye, giving a shy smile, looking a little too long at the pen he held in his fingers. It had been a secret Santa present last year, Marcus still had no idea who had gifted it to him.
Marcus shifted in his seat as you got up and opened his office door.
“Agent,” he gave you a polite smile, dropping the pen on the desk to give you his full attention.
“Marcus, I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me? We should probably get used to being the only two people in the department when everyone starts leaving for Christmas,” you chuckled, gesturing to the lunchbox in your hand.
Marcus nodded, a little too enthusiastically and pointed to the chair on the other side of his desk.
“Be my guest. It’ll be nice to have some company.” He opened a draw and retrieved a brown paper bag with his sandwiches in.
“When did you have time to buy lunch?” You asked.
“With my breakfast this morning,” he laughed. “So, can I ask? Why did you volunteer to work the holidays?”
You shifted positions in your seat, placed the lunchbox on the desk and reached for your phone instead.
“My parents are going away this year. A cabin near some national park in Canada,” you held the phone up to show him a picture of the cabin.
“Looks beautiful,” Marcus admitted, the picture showing snow covered trees and a stunning sunset in the background.
“Yeah, they invited me but you know how family is. I love them of course, but they always ask those questions,” you rolled your eyes at the thought and was glad to see Marcus understood.
“The personal kind of questions?”
“Exactly. When am I getting a boyfriend? Will I ever settle down? If I don’t find someone soon my eggs will dry up and I’ll die a lonely spinster.”
Marcus raised his eyebrows. “Do they really say that?”
“No,” you laughed, picking at the small pot of grapes you had packed, “but the insinuations are there.”
“Well, if you have a failed marriage and a failed engagement, your family tends to give up on bugging you about it.”
Your laughter died down and you offered Marcus a sympathetic look.
“It’s fine,” Marcus waved away your look, “it’s in the past,” he cringed, the words not sounding convincing to his own ears.
“What about you then? You don’t want to visit your parents?” You asked, hoping to change the topic and get a peek into why, according to your colleagues, Marcus had worked Christmas since before you came to work with him a year ago.
Marcus sighed and picked up the pen to fiddle with it as he spoke. “The last time I visited during the holidays it was too weird. My sisters have families so they’re never there, it’s just me and my parents. They try so hard to make it special that it feels like they’re overcompensating for the elephant in the room.”
You bit your bottom lip, listening to how matter of fact Marcus sounded. He was lonely you realised. He always put on a smile and made everyone else feel good that you failed to see that he was still hurting about the knock backs in his personal life.
You pushed the lid onto your lunchbox and sat forward in your seat, schooling your face so he didn’t think your next words came from a place of pity.
“My parents have the cabin until after New Year. Did you want to come with me?” You asked, a hopeful smile on your face as he looked at you in surprise. “It would get you away from this place, and obviously I’ll tell my parents we’re just friends but it might stop them asking all the questions I dread. And we get a holiday out of it.”
Marcus’ hand gripped the pen in his sweaty palms, his heart beginning to race in that frustrating way it did when he romanticised every little thing in his life. You were asking something that would get his hopes up, would make him dream of possibilities that always ended up letting him down. He’d done it a thousands times before, and he hated that he would do it a thousand times again.
He began to smile, a confident, optimistic, toothy smile that made your heart leap.
“That sounds wonderful,” he beamed.
You stood up, lunchbox under your arm. “Good, I’ll let them know we’re coming for New Years then.” You walked to the door and paused, turning at the last second. “I’m glad you like the pen by the way.”