Chapter Text
Benoit was at home, looking over his notes from the Harlan Thrombey case when something caught his eye.
Marta Cabrera. DoB: 12/15/1987
He glanced at the calendar on the wall. Sure enough, Marta’s birthday was in two days. Funny thing is, she hasn’t said a word about it. In the month since the case, the two of them had been spending more and more time together, whether in person or online. Benoit could admit, to himself anyway, that she was quickly becoming his best friend.
Not that there’s much competition on that score. His work and his natural tendency to prefer his own company to others’ meant that he didn’t have many close friends. After dithering back and forth, he finally decided to text Marta’s sister.
Hello, Alice. Are you and your mother planning a party for Marta’s birthday?
Her reply came a few minutes later.
Hey, Blanc. Mom and I are in Miami for the holidays, Marta didn’t want to come. We left her presents at the mansion.
Before he could respond to that, Alice sent another.
She never likes us to make a big deal about her birthday anyway.
Now that’s just not right. He considered his social calendar and decided that Marta was much more important than networking. Decision made, he replied to Alice.
Don’t tell her, but I’m heading to Boston tonight. I’m not about to let Marta spend her birthday and the holidays alone.
Her response was immediate.
My lips are sealed, Blanc. :D
Marta was just settling down in the sitting room with a book and a cup of tea when there was a knock on the door. She glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. Who could that be at ten o’clock at night? Setting aside the book and her cup, she got up and warily went to the door. Seeing the familiar silhouette through the glass made her wariness dissolve and she opened the door with a grin.
“Benoit? What are you doing here?” She stepped aside to let him in and added quickly, “Not that I mind.”
Benoit chuckled as he entered. “A little birdy told me you were alone during the holidays.” He took off his overcoat and handed it to Marta, who hung it up in the hall closet.
“I’m guessing that birdy’s name is Alice,” Marta muttered. “I swore her to secrecy.”
“Why? There’s nothin’ wrong with bein’ alone, especially when it’s easily remedied.” He indicated the suitcases he’d left by the door.
“You’re staying?” she asked, surprised.
“For as long as you’ll put up with me,” Benoit said, grinning. “At least until January second. Cleared my calendar and everythin’.” It wasn’t unusual for him to spend the night in one of the spare rooms after they stayed up too late talking.
She was torn, really torn, then something occurred to her. “Wait, does this mean you were going to be alone for the holidays too?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Consequence of having no living family left and not many friends.”
Marta led the way to the kitchen. “And if Alice hadn’t said anything?”
“I would’ve been alone, but that’s not unusual.” Benoit leaned against the counter as she made him a cup of tea.
Marta tried to ignore how good he looked in jeans and a navy blue sweater. Benoit didn’t wear casual clothes often when he came for a visit, and she decided that was a good thing for her hormones.
When his tea was done, he carried the cup and followed her to the sitting room. Marta sat down in her previous seat on the couch and couldn’t help feeling happy that he chose to sit next to her.
Benoit took a sip of his tea and smiled. “This is good, just what I needed after being out in the cold.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” she said, smiling a bit. “Have you adjusted to the winters this far north?”
He chuckled. “Not yet. I doubt I ever will, but I’m determined to see them through, especially now.”
That roused her curiosity. “Why especially now?”
“Because,” he grinned, “if I moved back below the Mason-Dixon Line, I’d miss out on cozy little moments like this.”
Marta felt her cheeks warm as she smiled. “We’ve had tea and a chat before.”
“Yes, and I’ve enjoyed every one of those evenin’s.” He took another sip then steered the conversation to Ransom’s trial the following month.
She relaxed as they talked about the DA’s case and the likely sentencing. Eventually, she could no longer suppress her yawns and of course Benoit noticed.
“To bed with you, missy,” he said, grinning. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
“Mmm, promise?” she murmured, her eyelids drooping.
Benoit got to his feet then helped her to hers. “Go on, I’ll lock up.”
Marta nodded. “Goodnight, Benoit.” Going with an impulse she never would have entertained if she weren’t so sleepy, she softly kissed his cheek.
He stared at her for a heartbeat then dropped his gaze, murmuring, “Goodnight, Marta. Sleep well.”
Mentally kicking herself for obviously crossing a line, she left the room and headed for the stairs. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Nicely done, Marta – you’ve made him uncomfortable. He’s going to regret ever coming here. Ugh…