Christmas Shopping

     Ronan pulled Blue by the arm into the Henrietta Mall.
     "This is pointless, Ronan, and you know it. What the hell can I possibly buy for a man with literally everything?" Blue groaned as she attempted to jerk her arm from his grip.
     "I don't give a shit, Sargent. I need to get Adam something too, and I'm sure as hell not going shopping alone."
     "Couldn't you just dream the perfect gift into existence?" Blue countered.
     "I could, but this is so much more fun," Ronan said with a vaguely devious grin. Actually, no. There was nothing 'vague' about the sheer mischief in his gaze. Blue sighed and stopped struggling. She had to admit that she enjoyed hanging out with Ronan. Ever since she had stopped dating the guy he liked, the blatant animosity between then had shifted to an easy friendship.
     "Atta girl, Sargent. This'll be great, trust me," he said, patting her shoulder.
     "You owe me, asshole."
     "You'll be glad you came," Ronan said with a hand over his heart, as if offended by her crude language. Filthy hypocrite.
     People stared unabashedly at the two of them as they walked through the mall, and Blue could guess why. Ronan was an imposing figure with his all black outfit, shaved head, expansive back tattoo, and semi-permanent sneer. There was truth to his intimidating exterior, but he was also a cattle farmer by occupation and dutifully attended church every Sunday with his brothers. And if his sleek BMW and private school were any indication, he was also considerably rich. A rich farmer. Ronan was truly a contradiction wrapped in an oxymoron.
     But all these people saw was the swaggering punk who looked like he could kick their teeth in. There was probably truth in that too, though.
     "Where to first, Sargent?" Ronan asked. "The khaki store? Oh, how about you get him a lovely polo shirt! There has to be at least one design in the universe not owned by Richard Gansey the Third."
     "Funny," Blue deadpanned. "But seriously. I've seen his closet. He owns fifty pairs of tan khaki shorts, easy."
     "Oh, that's optimistic, Sargent."
     "Ugh, WHY does my boyfriend dress like a sixty-year-old man?" Blue groaned.
     "Again with the optimism."
     "Fine. Seventy. But this makes everything so difficult. His style is so singular that anything that I think looks good, he will hate."
     "Undoubtedly."
     "Not helping," Blue scowled at Ronan, who was fighting a smile. "I'm glad that you're enjoying my pain."
     "Immensely. Get him a book on Welsh history, or some shit," Ronan suggested with a shrug.
     "Oh, please. He edits the Glendower Wikipedia page in his spare time. For fun," Blue remarked as they walked past the various stores. "I highly doubt that there is anything on the subject that he isn't aware of."
     "Ok, do you want frozen yogurt?" Ronan asked with raised brows.
     "How will that help?" Blue narrowed her eyes.
     "It probably won't, but it'll taste good."
     "Fine."
     On their way to get the frozen yogurt, Ronan had insisted on stopping at Bath & Body Works. All he bought was a small bottle of cherry scented hand lotion. Blue looked at him questioningly, and he said, "For Adam," as if that answered anything.
     "I'm glad you're finding things for Adam," Blue said sulkily.
     "The perks of being the rich one in the relationship: you're less likely to buy them something they already have."
     "Fuck off."
     They bought their frozen yogurt and sat on a nearby bench, Ronan looking satisfied, Blue looking dejected.
     "Can't you witch family, like, read his mind and find out what he wants?" Ronan asked around a mouthful of yogurt.
     Blue rolled her eyes. "First off, they're psychics, not witches. Second, that's not how it works, as you well know."
Ronan turned sideways to look her in the eye. "Look, Sargent. Gansey loves you. That idiot would move mountains for you, and he's probably one of the few people that I've ever met that actually has the means to. He loves everything about you with his entire elephant sized heart, and will cherish whatever you give him. Even if you gave him the dirty socks off of your fucking feet he would frame them and hang them up on his bedroom wall because it would be you that gave them to him." He gave her a pointed look and returned to his frozen yogurt.
     Gansey loved being at 300 Fox Way with her family. He was fascinated by all things supernatural and inexplicable, which included every aspect of life in her bustling, near-magical home life. It oftentimes seemed unfair to Blue that Gansey had been the one to pull them all into his fervent search for Glendower, and had been the only one in the end to have no inexplicable oddity to show for it. Ronan could take objects from his dreams, Adam was the mouthpiece of Cabeswater, Blue magnified the abilities of others, and Noah had been a literal ghost the entire time, but Gansey remained ordinary.
     If her criminally good looking, whip-smart, and insanely selfless boyfriend could ever be described as ordinary, that is.
     Suddenly, she had an idea.
     Blue grabbed Ronan's arm.
     "Jesus, Sargent, what the hell was that for?" he said, nearly dropping his yogurt.
     "I'll paint him some tarot cards and teach him how to do readings!" she exclaimed excitedly.
     Ronan made a face. "Why would he want that?"
     "He's always asking Maura or Calla to do readings for him! He even asked if he could give it a go once."
     "Sounds like Gansey."
     Blue punched his arm. "This could be great! Let's go to the craft store. Up, Ronan!"
     "I'm not done with my yogurt!" Ronan protested, but Blue grabbed his arm and heaved him up.
     They made their way to the craft store, only stopping to throw out their empty yogurt cups and pick up a Starbucks gift card for Gansey (he had recently discovered the Thin Mint Frappuccino and was addicted).
     Blue purchased card stock and acrylic paints, feeling a lot better about the whole Christmas thing. She was certain that Gansey would like her gift.
     On their way out, Blue glanced at Ronan who was still holding the single Bath & Body Works bag.
     "Is that all you're getting him?" she asked.
     "You know the answer to that question," Ronan said with an eye roll.
     She did know the answer to the question because she knew Adam. She had even dated him for a time. He was so proud that he couldn't accept gifts, especially expensive ones. Ronan was no doubt itching to buy him something nice, but also didn't want to upset him.
"Yeah, good luck with that one," she said with a soft laugh.
It wasn't difficult to see that Ronan and Adam were better for each other that she and Adam had been. They complimented each other perfectly. Ronan was the dark to Adam's light, the yin to his yang.
That's how it was with Gansey too.
"Do you want to help me paint these?" Blue asked.
Ronan made a face. "I can't paint, Sargent."
"I don't mean you should actually paint, I meant sit there and insult my abilities while I paint the cards."
Ronan pretended to think. "Yeah, I can do that."
"Good," Blue smiled.
He returned the smile as they reached his BMW. "Your chariot awaits, Sargent."
Blue rolled her eyes and climbed in.