His hands grip the mug, all red and decorated with silly reindeers and jingle bells, stirring the marshmallows inside it. His stare stays fixated on the subtle movement, even as he speaks. “Don’t get what you’re doing with this holiday shit,” he says, catching a glance at his boss; she’s preoccupied with the tree decorating, hands hanging a set of generic green ornaments. “Just hope you know that.”
She turns her head to face him, hand hovering over the next decoration in the box. “Not a fan of the common traditions, I presume?”
“Nah,” he snarks back, leaning back on the office chair. “Sick as hell of the common traditions, actually. You deal with enough WASPS smashing wine glasses over each others’ heads and crazy secret tradwife bullshit at exactly this time of year, and you might just get it.”
The Closer lets out a single chuckle. “Would it make you feel better if I told you our itinerary for today contains a total of zero tradwives?
“Itinerary? So you are planning something.” Ronin smirks as he brings the cup up to his lips. Sugar, corn syrup, modified whey, cocoa, nonfat milk, less than 2% of salt and calcium carbonate. Yep. Internal forensics confirms this is definitely hot chocolate. “Here I thought you just wanted me to haul a tree around for no goddamn reason.”
She shrugs. “Believe me, Ronin, I’d much prefer to have my head buried in a missing person’s case right now, but…” A sigh escapes her, crouched down to decorate the lower part of the tree. “Alas, it seems that a set of my acquaintances have decided that I should be the one to host a ‘christmas’ party this year.”
“Acquaintances, huh?”
“Yes, Ronin, acquaintances.” She rolls her eyes. “Now, will you be a dear and help with the decorations, or should I start decorating you, instead? I have plenty of ornaments, still.”