Lance is still thinking bemusedly about the suggestion that someone might steal his used, wrinkled clothes. He blinks at Niall. “I’m sure they didn’t take anything.” But then he remembers that he did have a camera and a laptop in his luggage, and frowns. Not because he thinks they were stolen, but because he hates to imagine those expensive electronics subjected to freezing temperatures.

“I’m sure there’s something more important that you mean to say to me,” Niall says, his voice almost a whisper, the timbre that always makes the hair stand up on Lance’s arms. Niall takes excellent care of his hands, and they look like they could belong to a much younger man’s. Right now they’re gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles are white.

Lance swallows. “Thank you for coming all the way here.”

Niall relaxes, but not entirely. “That’s a start. Anything else?”

“Yes. I’m sorry that you had to come.”

“Nonsense, Angel,” Niall says, taking one hand briefly from the steering wheel to reach out and pet Lance’s hair. “My goodness,” he says, with a faint giggle, “but do you look a fright. I have some things you can use at the hotel to clean up.”

The urge to lean away from Niall’s touch is on the edge of irresistible. “Before my hearing? I’m not sure we have time…?”

“Oh, my love, there won’t be any hearing!” Niall scoffs. He puts both of his hands back on the wheel to keep it steady. “Didn’t you trust me when I said I’d take care of all of that?”

They follow a curve in the road, and Lance tries not to hold his breath as the car skates sideways. Niall curses. But then their course straightens out and assumes a slight decline for the rest of the distance to the pavement, where the salted and plowed surface will be much easier to navigate. Lance exhales in relief, then tenses again as he reconsiders Niall’s last words.

“Of course I trust you,” he says carefully, “but I didn’t think you could get it handled so fast.”

“Oh yes. It was no trouble at all. I spoke to the prosecutor on Monday, just before I booked my flight.”

Lance feels a flare of anger; nothing new, but this time, it takes him a few seconds to quell. When he trusts himself to speak, his voice is still tight. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Niall smiles at him with such fond patronization that Lance wants to scream. They hit the pavement, and now that the car isn’t drifting on the ice, Niall takes his right hand off the wheel again, puts it on Lance’s knee, and squeezes.

“Don’t ask silly questions. If I’d told you, you might have gotten stubborn. You can be so dramatic.” He chuckles. “Everyone says I’m insane to put up with your moods, but what we have is so much more special than they realize. I admire your passion, even if it can be vexing when you get carried away.”