#It's Beginning to look a lot like|Winter Advent 2024

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Calendar || Day Twelve @thebiggestlies

But it was much earlier even than that when most people forgot that the very oldest stories, are, sooner or later, about blood. Later on they took the blood out to make the stories more acceptable to children, or at least to the people who had to read them to children rather than the children themselves, and then wondered where the stories went. It was one of the most poignant passages in one of her favourite books. She could recite it from disturbing memory though most times Andy would laugh and shake his head, telling her that as a book it held value in humour but he never really cared about Hogfather the way he enjoyed any of the Guards books. She thinks about this as she bathes and cleanses herself for the Yule ritual. Yule. The longest night of the year. One that ought to be ushered in with an embrace that lasts until the bluing of the morning horizon. A freedom from the celestial restrains placed upon them by the Curse. Instead, there are ancient magicks being woven that have nothing to do with bodily appeasement despite subtle inquiries into such things. The blood of her kin brings strength while courting rage and fear in a tangled frenzy. The blood of acquaintances as ephemeral as a waking dream holds a different deliration likely akin to the drink of the Maenads. Though perhaps hers is potent enough to grant him visions or allows him to dance with old ghosts the deeper he drinks from her. Tonight, dozens of her siblings in the craft will choose to become midwives, offering sacrifice and dance, sensual flesh and foods, to the newly born sun, ensuring it will rise from the darkness and wax until the setting of it at Litha. Just as they have done since the first humans stepped blinking into the light and watched the seasons cycle yearly after. Humans that wonder where the stories went,just as they have transformed them into a different divine birth, a different reason to hope night breaks. Humans that only vaguely remember what came before so they dress season in gifts and hues from the holly, the ivy, the birch and pine. Beth will sacrifice tonight. More than mere blood to sate his hunger, but to give a full measure of herself to the Sun and to Mischa. It is a boon none other of his kind has survived to tell tale of and carries the heavy hand of hubris should it go awry. The only sorrow she feels is that he will only have the two halves of day and night to enjoy it. What he does with them is his own business, though if he chooses solitude, she can only shadow him to ensure that he does not forget. Twenty four hours of a mortal life. All to watch one sunrise with him, that is her gift.

...a truly brilliant mind, but it was brilliant like a fractured mirror, all marvellous facets and rainbows but, ultimately, also something was broken.

[dramioneasks]

Christmas Fics (2024) (Part 2):

Untraditional Traditions by ehshah25 - M, WIP - In the wake of the war and the loss of her parents, Hermione Granger faces her first Christmas alone. Feeling like an intruder in her friends' celebrations, she decides to spend the day in Muggle London, seeking comfort in the holiday bustle and the familiar pages of Wuthering Heights. But her quiet, solitary Christmas takes an unexpected turn when she runs into Draco Malfoy, who, to her surprise, is also spending the holiday alone. Despite their past, the two find themselves spending the day together, sharing memories and traditions, and discovering that they have more in common than they expected. What begins as an unlikely, one-time Christmas encounter grows into a tradition—one that lasts for five consecutive Christmases.

Dramione Advent One Shots by fxck_yeah_itsme - M - Dramione Advent One Shots

Bitter Winter by onlyyikes - M, WIP - “If I wanted someone like me, I’d hang out with myself!” Hermione and Draco miss the train home for the Christmas holidays, leaving them as the only students left at Hogwarts along with a handful of professors... for 3 weeks.

A Merry Malfoy Christmas by virgo_puff - E, WIP - Draco Malfoy returns to London during the hoilday season with one thing on his to-do list, woo Hermione Granger.

In the Air There's a Feeling by eveningstruggle - T, one-shot - “Still using caffeine to bribe the local business owners into liking you?” “Doing my best.” He held up his copy of the card. “Has any person ever looked less happy about Christmas than this man? His idea of nice decorations is probably a fake tree and some dusty plastic garland.” “I opened Crooks’ Book Nook four years ago, and in all that time the DABA hasn’t done anything except collect annual dues and turn down permit applications for new benches. I almost don’t want to participate, just on principle, but that’s a lot of money.” “If you ask nicely, I’ll share some of it when I win,” said Malfoy as he turned to leave. Hermione shot two fingers at his back. or: Hermione and Draco decorate competitively.

No Space for Regret by LiloLilyAnn - T, 4 chapters - Vincent Crabbe was dead to begin with... ***** More than ten years after the war ended, and everyone has moved on. Everyone except Draco Malfoy. On the surface he has everything - his money, his manor, a cushy job in the Minister's wing, a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas - and yet he spends his nights drinking away his troubles, alone and bitter. But when a late night visitor disrupts his sleep, it has the potential to change his life forever.

Wrapped in You by feistyferret - E, WIP - Haunted by past heartbreak, Hermione struggles to trust the growing connection between her and Draco. Amid holiday magic and quiet confessions, she’s torn between guarding her heart and embracing a love that feels undeniable. Can she overcome her doubts, or will fear keep her from taking the chance?

The Lookout by dearhummingbird - G, one-shot - Years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Gregory Goyle is once again acting as the lookout for one Draco Malfoy. Just … in a very different way.

The Stowaway Malfoy by writetimewrongmuse - E, WIP - It was only supposed to be a mother-daughter holiday. But Rose Weasley is her mother's daughter, and her best friend happens to be Scorpius Malfoy. “You need to come now,” Hermione whispered. “I think I may be an accessory to kidnapping Draco Malfoy’s son.” or Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy are on a mission to set up their parents. What better time to parent-trap them together than the week-long Christmas Holiday Hermione has been planning for three months?

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Calendar || Day Eleven @tangleweave

Winter break. It's one of those moments many students look forward to during the academic year; the first real break with the fall semester behind and the spring semester yet to begin. Most of the dorm rooms are empty, the halls quiet but for a few students with a multitude of reasons to remain. Beth is one amongst them. And while technically all she has to do is cross the bridge to go home, she doesn't really have a reason to do so; her brother is still overseas, the Admiral has little interest in her current whereabouts until it's time to do the posed holiday portrait for his office and constituents. In order to avoid a holiday dinner with her parents, Jay has skipped off to spend the whole eight nights of Hanukkah with Uncle Lewis. It's not that she doesn't have other friends. She's not exactly a penniless little matchstick waif about to perish from a bitterly frigid night, unnoticed and unmourned. She just doesn't feel the need to bar-crawl through the night, wake up in bed with a stranger, and then proceed to re-experience every bad decision from the night before in livid, sweaty dry heaves. She isn't even trying to curry favour or stalk her mentor surreptitiously as many might assume when instead of hailing a cab or taking the train or bridge back home, she trudges up to his office. Not to curry favour and not to suck up, which would be the other rumour; if Beth were being pragmatic about it...she's already doing half the work without the pay ~not that she needs it~ though he does recognise and credits her for it. Not that it's a hardship for the most part. She enjoys classroom preparation and the meditative air to cleaning up afterwards. She has an intuitive sense for his lesson planning, which frees him up for his surgical rotations and whatever personal business he has between his separate duties. She takes such elaborate and extensive notes it sometimes seems that she might be a little inhuman, and that would make her laugh if her peers only knew half the truth. Still, she's always been good at record keeping, organisation, and executing direct orders. Especially when it comes to lab preparation, too.

He doesn't let her grade, though she'd be excessively honest about it, nor does he allow her to do performance evaluations. Partly because, as he joked once, he doesn't think even he could meet her standards. No, it was as simple as Beth wanting to deliver a Christmas present when she knew the good doctor was out and enjoying himself. It had taken her the better part of the year tracking, like some hyper-fixated Indiana Jones, a copy ~not first edition, but still, impressively preserved 1923 edition~ of Anatomicae Praelections, by Archangelo Piccolomini. Considered to be one of the earliest books dedicated to neurosurgery, it was written in 1586. But she'd been caught off-guard by the tree that hadn't been there earlier that afternoon. She'd sat in its glow on the small couch in his office and made up different stories of the people who could have put it up as she didn't imagine he'd waste the time to do it himself. She doesn't know how it is that she falls asleep then, only that she wakes up warm and content, smiling. The warmth comes from the coat he draped over her at some point. From the way his fingers sift through a lock of hair that's fallen on her cheek, to tuck it back behind her ear. "Merry Christmas, Ms Riley," he murmurs. Her eyes widen until they are practically the only feature on her face and she bolts up. "Shut up, really?" Stephen laughs. It is golden and shot through with that deep baritone that feels like living inside burnished bells. "God no. I was just seeing if you'd fall for it. But it is after midnight, Cinderella, so lets go and get you home, before you turn into a pumpkin and I have a lot of explaining to do."

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Calendar || Day Ten @ronmanmob

While it may not be the kind of London Christmas Ron is used to, Beth is pretty sure that New York has it's charms. All of her is dying to make a Weeping Angels reference but she isn't sure how well that would go over, certain things being as they are, and the last thing she wants is for him to be unable to close his eyes when they head to bed. It began with an early supper at Olmstead's, a restaurant that Beth finds utterly delightful given the vegetarian roots of the menu that still has options for more meat-minded individuals. They share her little neck clams, carrot butter and sunflower crepe, his popcorn monk fish with goan masala and pear chutney. Again shared, his grilled pork loin with flowering brassicas, reading raclette, and mustard jus. The duck fat fries are so good, she can't even complain. Her rutabaga tagliatelle with brown butter crumbs and black truffle sauce is almost enough to convert him to the vegetarian side. And no meal is complete without a hint of sweetness; chocolate raspberry mousse and Tahitian vanilla panna cotta with orange marmalade glossed plums. Then it's off into the city across the Bridge to view the lights and trees that make Manhattan the brightest city in the world, and Paris can suck it. Not that she says that last little bit aloud, though she knows it would earn a laugh. From there, it's off to Central Park for a snuggle under thick warm blankets as they take a carriage ride through the entire landscape, including the lake. A kiss for each star discovered in the heavens which she has to admit is a rare treat when you're this far from upstate. The whole evening is meant to show him the last fifteen years of her life before she'd come to London, wholly unaware that she'd find fate there in the form of the handsome, wonderfully warm and gentle man at her side. Just as he's shown her the beauty of London beyond American cinema. Maybe the most enjoyable moment of it all is unbundling in her apartment, his coat and scarf hung neatly next to hers near the door. The mugs brimming with cocoa Jay'd made for them and holiday shaped marshmallows sipped as they cuddle up with one another on her couch. The lights are low to highlight the faery-lights tucked in her tree branches. Feet socked and covered with blankets though the century's old radiator does wonders keeping even the windowed expanse of the place toasty. And of course, the radiant joy of him allowing her head to rest on his shoulders, conceding to watch the Great British Bake-off competition, with full running commentary, including whom would most likely give them food poisoning and which creation would have Aunt May in full apoplexy over how many mistakes were made. Snow starts falling softly. And Beth reflects as she snuggles more closely that, it could be any season and any place in the world because the thing that matters most to her is already here and holding her just so. She's a woman blessed and needs nothing more. "Exactly tha',luv," he murmurs, slipping as easily into her train of thought as she does the sea's embrace. And that tells her something, because she'd never said a word aloud.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Calendar || Day Seven @tabbyrp

The afternoon is deceptively beautiful; the skies are clear, the sun is bright, and some people have even decided against wearing jackets despite it being December in New York city. The most fortunate part at least is that the ground isn't icy and slick or covered in melting snow. Jay's standing in the back of her truck, handing bags and sundries to Father Vinny and Luc while it's Beth and Tabby's job to organise them once they hit the ground. Paper bags have wrapped holiday gifts and are marked male, female, non-binary, and by age group. Those were Tabby's idea, having told the cabal that everyone likes a little surprise now and then, especially this time of year. The blankets, pillows, scarves, gloves, and hats ~some purchased, some hand made~ were Beth's contribution. Jay and Andy handled the food and Luc's offering the toiletries, manual labour, and left-over distribution later from the back of his ambulance. This is the second time in as many weeks that Tabby's volunteered. Last week was a similar affair only with the animal shelters. They organised kennel clean up, toys and treats for the various animals, and of course the Rileys not only managed to procure a team of vets but vouchered for low and no income spaying and neutering, vaccines, microchips. Tabby was kind enough not to tell anyone that Beth cried for almost fifteen minutes over the thought of so many unwanted and homeless creatures. Her features might not show it but maybe there's some wounds of her own from that experience because Tabby is twice as up-beat as normal as she works with Beth. Her jokes and stories that are completely made up or so she'd say keep up the moral as they work. Yet even the little bartender has her limits when it comes to kindness and her own patience. Beth buzzes around the food boxes putting in last minute items ~one each~ taken from the food grade ten gallon trash bag slung over her shoulder like Santa's sack, all the while looking dismayed despite the carols being sung around her. "Bethykins, I need you to listen to me very carefully," she says as tenderly as she can, small but strong hands clamping around the other woman's wrists to stop her. Her large hazel eyes bear into Beth's with seriousness. "Friends... don't let friends.... fruitcake, okay?"

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Calendar || Day Six @therealgamble

"One day of coal versus three hundred sixty four days of fun, I'll go ahead and take my chances."

She can't help but chuckle. Not that she should be listening to him, they are, after all, sweeping for mines. That's her job. Listening in her way for the variations of energy from the magnetics in the metal. She's light enough after a little bit of judicious use of her powers not to detonate them and her ability to sense the common thread of quintessence in specific patterns, what she tells him is the life's blood of the universe. Brian lets her go on as she likes about these things and while she knows he understands all but the most obscure esoteric minutia, maybe even fantasises about having abilities too, he treats it as he would someone with extraordinary talent in marksmanship, someone who's an expert mechanic, someone who is a doctor. Sometimes he watches her when she's doing little things. Almost ordinary by her standards. But he's never come across as envious. And right now, she's glad for it. Just like she's glad that she's the canary in the mine so to speak. Command says they can lose her, or if she comes away with missing limbs, she can take care of it herself, given time. She doesn't want to take the risk with him. "Okay, but. If you did care, and you did believe? What would you ask for if you were on the Nice list?" His shrug warms her through. Then the smile and he gets on with wild fantasies. Room service in a five star hotel, a bevy of women ~she isn't jealous though she does make a face at him before she mops her brow despite the cold~ the food, the drink, the rest. He asks her the question in return and she shrugs and keeps planting flags for the EOD team that will follow after them. What he says sounds nice. The idea of lying on the golden sands of a beach somewhere with a giant fruity drink sounds good too. Maybe because regardless of the ever more fanciful details they add, she realises anywhere would be good so long as she's with him. A gruelling eighteen hours later, they both fall across their cots. For long moments neither one moves or even speak beyond a few well earned groans. She listens as his breath starts to deepen and she knows that he's on the edge of sleep. "Hey, Gamble," she manages. She's sure he's about to ignore her. "I got ya something. And no, it's not coal." He flips her the bird. She smiles. He'll find it in his boot in the morning.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Calendar || Day Five @corinnebaileyrp

Cory should have known when Beth burst into her shop in the middle of the day decked out in hiking boots and pants that maybe something was going down. But she seemed snared by by grabby hands and that little too chipper chirp of "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" The only reprieve came when Beth allows her to pull on her cap and gloves and jacket. The snow had been light but consistent since Thanksgiving Night and all of New York feels like the inside of a particularly holiday-themed snow-globe. Breath from dozens of neighbours mist the air. Music in a festive cacophony streams out of windows and doors, competing for attention and weave in and out of shouts, whistles, and regaling frost-silvered laughter. Of course she was the first to step out into the shiver-inducing battle grounds as she had foreknowledge of what Cory is stepping into, easily able to wrangle her friend behind one of the snow-erected barriers to avoid being pelted by any of the heavier ammunition. Gloved and mittened hands have spent a decent amount of time allowing the fresh powder to melt and reform into hard little balls while others are not taking the snow-ball fight that seriously. Ducked behind the cold wall, Beth ~skin pale from being leeched by the air, and stained red at the nose and corners of her mouth~ smiles up at Cory with fervid glee. "Bes' part is? We don' even know most of dese people. Started wi' a couple kids an' den jus' everybody join in. Andy is providin' advice an' first aid services....an' den we're gonna buy out da local shops for food an' warm drinks aftah!" The little nurse could not have been more full of joy and wonder if someone had turned up and given her a real life baby unicorn to care for. And from across the street, rare as a pure blue cut and polished diamond comes Andy's smile. Eyes crinkled at the corner, deep dimples, teeth showing. It feels for all the world that it's for Cory and Cory alone to see. Maybe it is. Beth nudges Cory's arm with her elbow to ensure the woman sees it before she starts loading the taller woman's hands with some hefty snow balls. The play goes on for well over an hour and winds down with little to no actual casualties or police presence. At least until Andy scoops Beth up to lead the charge back to Cory's shop, with triumphant cries for cocoa and coffee. It serves her brother right, that Cory has one hell of an aim.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Calendar || Day Thirteen @kylo-wrecked

Don’t worry, Artoo, Keni only tortures ships, not droids.

Though her laughter is gentle, it is also brief, only alive enough to etch little lines at the corners of too bright green eyes, at the corners of her lips. Hands still over one of the cylindrical duraplast containers that she is filling with bright white stones shipped to their home from the Capital. On top of each was a light without ending, powered by solar receptors during the day that would compete with the light of three of Zelos' four moons and illuminate the long nights ahead. Dozens of them made daily for the past month. She can understand why the boy asks what he does. It is a curiosity, particularly on a world vaunted for it's myriad of luxurious pleasures. That's a mask, then, isn't it? What they want outsiders to see and experience but the truth is older than a hundred generations of her own family. "Life Day is starting to become a celebration of feasting and gift giving, on those worlds that adopted the custom from the Wookies. Some cannot begin to fathom the origins, understand the meaning behind what makes it so important to them." Indirect as many of her explanations often are. "But the deepest root of this celebration is born in the soil of compassion. How could I, in supporting droid rights as sentient rights, enforce one or more to do this task we are capable of and that I find rather soothing? I cannot pay a droid for service, nor can I in good faith purchase one into what is tantamount to slavery." She watches the way the angles and planes of his face twist and turn. Silent calculations of the word problem he perhaps sees it as and as troubled as a white-water river. His eyes then cut her to the quick. In response and making an equal, more skilled incision, she shakes her head. "Ah-ah. I do not force the astromech droid that once belonged to my dad, and acquired by inheritance, to serve me. I travel to my father's residence whence I ask, politely, if he would assist me. There is a difference. Were he to say no, I would seek other means." Melakeni glances towards one of the windows and takes note of the falling shadows. She pulls away from the table and unbuttons her sleeves that they migh fall back into place. "Gloves, then. And your cloak. Your boots." Instructions, not orders, as she moves about the lodge's living space to collect her own things. "Your grandfather had never seen snow until he came here. I think water was always a strange experience for him, considering the world where he'd spent his childhood. It might come in a year, a decade, perhaps only once century. Could you imagine?"

She tells him these things in drips and drabs. Allows him, if he wishes, to use her like a living memory bank, hoping some day he'll trust her enough to ask her questions. A brow raised in his direction. "If you had a wish you were willing to share with me, what would you ask for, on Life Day?" Ben does not have a single bone of avarice for material things.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Calendar || Day 9 @foxrensics

Beth is twice blessed today. The first blessing comes in the form of ohana; it is very rare that her grandfather comes to New York much less doing so in his human body on land. Typically she has to surf far out from the beaches and meet him where the sea is cold, her waters turbid. And even those times are not as common as they were in Hawai'i. She buries herself in his arms as he wraps them around her, kisses the top of her forehead, and doesn't eat her with one snap of his enormous jaws. He is, after all, a great white. The elder Rokea tells her that a part of his homeland has come to this city of dirt-walkers. One of the most venerable families, one he has watched over from afar, one he wishes would join the Beast Courts of the Emerald Mother at his invitation, has sent their scion to her city. As his most beloved grandchild, he wants her to stop in and check on the girl. Beth would never dream of denying the old man a request made, and especially not. She loves her kupuna, and this is a joyful kuleana. But when she asks for the woman's name, Beth can't help but to blink. Unless there's another Toshiko Hironaka, then that's one heck of a coincidence. Maybe her grandfather is aware of the connection but if so he does not share it with her. The two women had met what seems forever ago, when the Admiral was stationed in Japan necessitating that his children accompany him to his duty. A shy and quiet hapa child, Beth did not make many friends around the base and the DoD school, but she'd been drawn to the dark-eyed girl who enjoyed origami and who sometimes shared her bento with the little green eyed American. After some clever inquiries, Beth now has an address and a sense of nervousness. Would Toshiko remember her pen-pal? Had too many years passed? Was she expecting company so close to the holidays, and was she accustomed to American traditions? So many questions crowd around Beth like ducklings as she stands on her friend's porch, and knocks on the door. Beth doesn't imagine she'd be hard to place; she'd never grown taller than five feet, she's still nearly stick thin, and from her own old photos, she really hasn't changed much in the face, either. In hand, there's a bottle of wine, one of Beth's favourite syrahs, and a festive bucket of KFC. All there seems to be is to wait and see if her old friend opens the door, or sends her packing.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Calendar || Day 8 @southern-belle-outcasts

"Harry? I need you." Four words whispered and trembling as they come across the connection between their cellphones, almost impossible to hear. When he asks her what the matter is, she can't express it concisely. "I wen drop off some t'ings for church, right? When I came home, I notice my tree's messed up, my wreath an' lights are wrong...hole in my ceiling, somet'ing feels...off. Feels like it's not my apartment? But someone put a messed up version in it's place? Normally I'd shrug it off but even Houdini is missing. I need you to come see it. Need you to tell me I'm not crazy." As sensitive as Beth can be, she is certainly not a damsel in distress. If anything, the little witch is usually the first one volunteering to tend to Harry's wounds or help him on cases that need a more gentle touch than his own. She calls that rough-edged nature one of his many charms, though sometimes she doesn't elaborate what the other ones are. So for her to reach out to him speaks of a level of trust that might not be obvious. She believes whole-heartedly that he'll come to help. She believes that he can tell her whether or not this is something to be concerned about or if maybe her meds need a little adjusting. But more? There's something in the way she intones the word 'need'. There's also an implication of want to it and it's not hard to imagine her saying it in other ways. "And if it does turn out t' be no kine a' all but my imagination," because she does not say what it could be, she never really does, "den dinner from anywhere you want an' full run of my liquor cabinet and full body massage. Whaddy'a say?" Harry's had worse offers for less. "I'll be right over." "Wha' would I do wi'out you?" she sounds so relieved. "Don't answer dat."

[brooklynislandgirl]

Spencer loses nothing in removing his shoes, a thing she can't say about certain members of his team. Not that she would say so aloud because she doesn't believe in being nasty unless that's her last resort. The socks are wonderful. When he'd first told her about how this became a habit, he'd broken her heart for his suffering as a child without an Andy in his life to protect him. Not that she blamed his mother. Diana's struggles are very serious and in many ways, very close to Beth's heart. Now, they're just part of what makes Spencer endearingly himself and it sets a little smile in her eyes when she has a chance to spy them. Very much like the one that begins to glow in his gaze as he takes things measure for measure. Which in turn chips away at the anxiety that had taken root in the back of her mind, the fear that he might reject her efforts. Reject her, admonishing her for being silly. When he wraps her in his shadow and stands before her, she is shocked to find that her heart is still inside her chest rather than half way lodged in her throat threatening to choke her. That caress is gentle and she raises her face upward when he captures a silken lock of coffee coloured hair. She hears a thousand things in his silence all of which surge forward from his soul. They don't really need words. But when he does speak, Spencer's gentle voice is softer. Spun like fine glass that at first seems like it might break because of its fragility. But beneath that, there's a kind of burnished thickness that seeps into the very cracks of her and fills her with the more than just words. She can only offer a nod. Slow at first then picking up speed with her timid enthusiasm. At first she tries to be playful. "Amadeus' idea. Said you could use a little brightness t' come home to, an' wha' kine person would I be t' ignore a cat? Really d'ough, I did do it for you, because I like seein' you happy. An...an' I like taking care of you." As if on cue, the beautiful feline pads his way over though he pauses in his trek from under the tree to stretch out his body, tail up and eyes half-closed, before proceeding to rub figure-eights around Spencer's ankles. Her hands come to settle on his hips, and there's a brief moment where vulnerability glitters in all the various dim lighting before she turns her head away. By now, Spencer is one of the few people who realises that when she isn't making face-to-face contact, she's partially deafening herself. "I...ah...was hopin' dat mebbe...you wouldn't mind me stayin' over for da holidays. I normally wouldn't impose but my cousin's going to London an' when he came to visit my Uncle made off wi' Houdini, it's a whole t'ing take too long to explain an'...an' it's really no big deal if you have oddah plans an' stuff. I mean it's so short notice an' it has no kine t' do wi' me decorating an' come t' say it aloud really I'd jus' forget about it. Make you a cup of cocoa, yeah?"

The first thing he notices when he walks up the stairs to his apartment is the sound. It isn't loud, but he hears instrumental music in the hallway, the cheerful sounds of December teasing his ears. He can't help the small smile as he approaches his door and realizes the music is coming from there. He knows Garcia wouldn't break into his apartment, even for Christmas, so it had to be Beth. She was the only other person with a key.

He opens the door, excited to see her, stopping in the doorway and staring at the decorations. No one has ever decorated the house for Christmas for him. There were times, back before William left, where they would all pretend to be a happy family, but his mom hated decorations and she didn't believe in cutting down a tree for an inaccurate holiday celebrating beliefs she didn't share. Christmas, after William left, wasn't something they celebrated.

The decorations are lovely, clearly picked out with his tastes in mind, understated but still there. He steps further into the apartment, closing the door behind him, taking his messenger bag off. His eyes never leave the tree. It's a living tree, and he appreciates that she did that. He'll have to spray it with feliway to make sure Amadeus doesn't get any ideas, but it really is beautiful. Each ornament must have been picked out with love and him in mind. She clearly thought about this.

Finally, he turns away from the tree, eyes alighting on Beth. She's nervous, he can tell by how she holds herself, her feet piled one on top of the other. He notes the quiet tinkle of her anklet, fitting, he thinks, for the fae woman who has managed to capture his heart. He shrugs off his coat, letting it fall to the ground, and slips off his shoes, leaving them at the door. It's a habit that he started after spending time with Beth. Mismatched green and orange socks pad across the floor until he's standing in front of her.

One hand raises to her face, fingers brushing her cheek before catching a lock of hair between them. He doesn't say anything for a minute, just taking the time to look down at her, at the way her eyes gleam, the way she's standing there. It makes something in his heart melt.

"You did all of this for me?" His voice is ever so slightly unbelieving that someone would do something like this for him. "No one has ever- No one has ever cared about how I spend the holidays before. This is amazing."