Winter Formal (Kennedy's POV)

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Because I was really curious how the night went for Kennedy. Enjoy!

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"Your grandmother Maggie taught me how to do this," Carter said, twisting Kennedy's hair up into a french knot.

Kennedy stared at her mother in the mirror's reflection. "Really?"

It had been a delightful surprise to Kennedy to find her mother home that day. She hadn't been sure whether Carter would make it back from her assignment to help Kennedy get ready for Winter Formal. But there they were in the master bathroom, stationed before the vanity mirror. Bouncy music played quietly from Kennedy's phone adding an atmosphere of excitement to the occasion.

Her mother smiled as she grabbed pins and secured the french twist. Kennedy didn't want this moment to end. She wanted to savor the feel of her mother deftly fixing her hair. The quick, efficient hands that preformed every action with confidence.

"She did," Carter said, answering Kennedy. "I didn't know how to do anything with my hair until I was out of college. Up until that point, it was a ponytail or a tangled mess, there wasn't much in between."

The conversation Kennedy'd had with her father about her mother's past filtered into her mind. She sobered, dropping her gaze away from her mother. "Because your mother left when you were fourteen?"

Carter paused for a fraction of a second and Kennedy felt her heart tightening, unable to imagine what it must have been like to have a mother walk out.

"Yes, because of that." Retrieving her smile, Carter patted Kennedy's hair and Kennedy saw how the pain in her mother's expression was forced away. "All done! How does it feel?"

Knowing better than to try and prod around old memories, Kennedy tossed her head about, feeling the security of the up-do. "Like I could take on a pack of assailants and it would still be fine."

Carter laughed which lightened Kennedy's sadness. "Good. Now, makeup or no makeup?"

Kennedy locked eyes with her mother, noting that she never saw a hint of makeup on her face. The times she had seen her wear it was for formal functions or undercover assignments. Every time she saw her mother's face made-up it never felt real. Kennedy scrunched up her face, uncertain.

"I don't know. You don't wear makeup," she said. "But do you think it would make me look prettier?"

Carter wrapped her arms around Kennedy's shoulders and pressed her cheek to hers, holding her gaze in the mirror. Her mother smelled like coffee and a subtle perfume and felt like safety. "You are beautiful just the way you are," Carter said.

Smiling, Kennedy rolled her eyes, embarrassed. "You're my mother, that's what you have to say."

Laughing, Carter kissed Kennedy's cheek. "Nope, I say that because you have your father's amazing cheekbones and my chin and eyes. I'm merely backhandedly complimenting your parentage."

Kennedy shook her head but was happy she had so much of her mother in her. As she kept growing she hoped it would be more. Her confidence. Her fearlessness. Her determination.

"Well," Kennedy said, "I think the eyes you gave me would be enhanced by eyeliner, so let's go with that."

"Sounds good." Carter opened a drawer and found what she needed then crouched before Kennedy. "Close your eyes."

Kennedy did as instructed. "How do you have such a steady hand? I've tried this before and I shake so much."

"Well, you defuse a bomb once and it gives you a steady hand like you would never know."

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