#janeford christmas fic

[moondancer71]

‘tis the damn season

We could call it even. You could call me babe for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, write this down

Summary: Jane returns home to Leicester after several years away and reconnects with Guildford, rediscovering a love she thought was long since lost.

“For someone who owns a Christmas tree lot, you’re setting your tree up awfully late. Christmas is less than a week away,” Jane said as she placed the small bell wreath ornament on an empty branch. 

“Honestly, this is the first tree that I’ve had—let alone decorated—in years.” There was a wistful look in Guildford’s eyes as he gently reached out to touch one of the silver orbs hanging on the tree. 

“Why?”

“Never felt the need for one.” Guildford shrugged. “We rarely celebrated Christmas after my mum died, and I guess that just stuck with me.” 

Jane nodded and reached into the box and selected a small, brown horse ornament that looked exactly like Guildford’s own stallion. “I used to love Christmas. It hasn’t felt the same since my dad passed.” She took a deep breath in and exhaled before meeting his eyes. “I get it.” 

They continued to decorate the tree in a comfortable silence, occasionally sipping on their glasses of wine. 

When they were finished, Guildford stood back, his hands crossed over his chest. “Well, Jane Grey, that is one fine tree if I do say so myself.” 

Jane moved to stand beside him, her shoulder lightly bumping against his, and smiling as she did so. “I think I would have to agree, Guildford Dudley.” 

“There is only one thing left to do, then,” Guildford said, tone serious despite the playful smile on his lips. She watched as he went to a small shelf on the other side of the room, turning on his record player. As soft music began to drift through the room, he walked back over to her, with his arm outstretched, upturned hand. “Dance with me?” 

Jane’s cheeks warmed as she took a step backwards. “What? Right here? Now?” 

He took a step closer. “Yes.”

“No.” 

“Come on, Jane. There is no one else here—no one to judge us for our poor dancing skills. Or at least mine, anyways.” Guildford laughed, giving Jane an encouraging smile. 

“All right,” Jane muttered as she tentatively took his proffered hand, Guildford pulling her close so she was flush against his chest. She placed her other hand on his shoulder while he moved his to her waist. 

Bathed in the soft glow of the twinkle lights on the tree, they swayed to the music, and a warmth filled Jane’s heart. For the first time in a long while she felt at peace. 

He spun her around and when he pulled her back into his embrace, he crashed their lips together in a kiss. She melded against him, her fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck. When he deepened the kiss, she could still taste hints of apple and oak from the wine on his tongue. 

“We can’t do this,” Jane whispered as she pulled away, though her hands still clutched at his sweater where they rested on his chest. 

“We can,” he countered, leaning down, brushing his nose against hers. 

“Guildford.” Jane shook her head. “I’m leaving after Christmas.” 

“I know.” Sadness flashed across his eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to stay.” Guildford would keep his word, he’d always had, if that’s what he thought she wanted. Even if it broke his own heart in the process. 

Jane nodded and pulled him in for another kiss. She yelped when he reached behind her thighs, lifting her, her legs wrapping around his waist, and carried her to his bedroom. 

This is a mistake, yet she doesn’t tell him to stop. As she loses herself in him, she thinks that perhaps the pain and heartbreak will be worth it for the chance to be his again—no matter how brief.