There was one time in the year when the lights of Las Vegas seemed to shine less brightly. For Gil Grissom, now, more than ever, the lights seemed to have lost their sparkle.

He smiled as he signed off on the last report of the evening. Opening the top drawer of his desk, he reached in pulling out a neatly wrapped parcel. For a moment the holographic paper fascinated him, he twisted the parcel in his hand, spellbound as the dim light from his desk lamp reflected a plethora of multicoloured patterns across the gloomy room. A grin broke out on his face as he anticipated the look on the recipient's face as the parcel was opened to reveal its contents. He stood; securing the object that had held him spellbound seconds earlier, in the inside pocket of his jacket. As he pulled his jacket over his shoulders, he held tight to the lapels, a quick couple of tugs ensured the collar lay flat. As he brought his right hand down he couldn't resist patting the jacket where he knew the pocket was, as if needing to reassure himself that he had indeed placed the gift there. There was something comforting about feeling the hard container against his chest, above his heart. Gathering together a few last papers for his meeting with the acting supervisor later that afternoon, he hurriedly shoved them into his briefcase, before closing it.

Leaving the lab, he had the air of a man with a purpose. As Greg came out of the trace lab, his mouth opened ready to question his supervisor about the current case he'd worked on all shift. Upon seeing Gil's expression he thought better of it. He tried unsuccessfully to back into the lab and remain unnoticed, but it was too late he'd been seen.

"Greg?"

"Err…hi, I mean hello sir."

"What have you got there?"

"Just some test results. It looks like we may have a lead. I need to wait until the autopsy results are in though, that won't be until later tonight, I hear the morgue's pretty busy."

"Always is this time of year."

"I guess I'll see you later then Grissom."

"Right, you get some rest. Fresh eyes later on might just be what's needed."

"Ok."

Gil continued his journey to the parking lot, this time uninterrupted. He stowed his briefcase in the trunk, removing his jacket, before carefully laying it over the briefcase. He closed the tailgate and moved to the driver's side. Climbing in, he closed the door and engaged the door locks. Then, he sat for a moment, enjoying the quiet, the solitude, before starting the Denali and heading towards home.

He could make out the lights of the strip, trying to entice people to spend money they probably didn't have on the luck of a roll of a dice, the turn of a card, the rattle of a ball in a wheel, or the pull of a handle. Such pursuits only interested him on a scientific level, observing the nature of humankind in such quests. The difference between him, and the millions of visitors willing to risk their life savings on the chances of luck, was he already knew where his luck lay.

He turned away from the lights of the strip, heading towards Henderson. Houses decorated for Christmas bordered the journey. Their lights twinkling and flashing, to rival any show the large strip casinos could produce. He stopped at an intersection. His eyes drawn towards a fifteen-foot inflatable Santa Claus, surrounded by dancing lights. He smiled thinking back to his earliest memories of Christmas.

He was hoisted onto his father's shoulders as his mother and father walked arm in arm towards the Marina.

"Will he be there?" He asked, not for the first time that day.

"Yes, son he will." Came the patient reply from his father, giving no hint of tiring of the constant reassurances he needed to provide for his young son.

He leaned forward, so he faced his father upside down, his curly hair bouncing with each step his father took. "Are you sure dad?"

"You'll see. Just be patient."

The journey was barely ten minutes long, but to him it seemed an eternity. As the water came into view he scanned the horizon anxiously searching out some sign, a light, a boat, anything.

There was music, a choir singing carols and Christmas songs, causing his father to sway to the beat. He watched his mother as she leaned into him, adopting the gentle rhythm with ease, he marvelled at how she could do so; yet not hear the beat to be followed.

There was a loud trumpet sound, a series of explosions as fireworks cascaded in the night sky, diverting the audience's attention momentarily from the Marina. As the fireworks ended, their noise was replaced by that of boat horns. Slowly a parade of boats decked with colourful lights, each with a Christmas themed tableaux, made their way into the Marina. Gil listened intently as his father gave each scene a story, describing their significance to Christmas. The final boat, a small motorized dinghy, used by the harbour master, carried the all important visitor.

The Grissom family made their way through the crowds to a tented area, where a large throne was waiting.

As the dinghy arrived, it was quickly tied up, and the visitor climbed the ladder to the jetty. A large sack followed him. He quickly made his way to the tent and was seated on the throne with a rambunctious, "Ho, ho, ho!"

Gil chuckled, as his father tried to imitate him. He waited patiently, watching the children before him.

As his turn approached, his father gently swung him over his head, clasping him close to his chest and whispering. "What are you going to ask Santa to bring you?"

Without hesitation he answered. "A train set."

He was carried towards the man in a red suit, who smelled strangely of fish. Sitting on his lap, he gazed at the man in all seriousness.

"Hello, young man, and what would you like Santa to bring you."

"A train set please."

"What's your name sonny?"

"Gil."

"Well Gil, I seem to remember a Gil on my nice list. Now if you want that train set you've got to remember to listen to your mother and father, and do as you are told. And, most importantly of all, on Christmas Eve you make sure you go to bed good and early and no peeping, you understand."

"Yes sir."

Santa reached into the sack beside him, pulling out a small package and giving it to Gil. "Off you go now, and Merry Christmas."

"Thank you."

He returned to his father, once again being hoisted onto his shoulders for the journey home.

As soon as they arrived, he opened the package, while his mother warmed some milk for him, and his father sat on the porch smoking a cigarette. He was enchanted by the collection of black rubber spiders it revealed. He carefully examined each one, before placing each one gently back in the packet, then taking them to his room and placing them on the small table by his bed.

That Christmas he did receive the hoped for train set. The joy of spending time with his father as they constructed different patterns for the track before setting the train in motion was short lived as within eight months his father had disappeared. His future childhood Christmas' were for just him and his mother.

The changing of the traffic signal to green brought him back to the present momentarily. He smiled as he remembered the fate of the train set, in virtually mint condition; he'd taken it to the Mr James' store at the far end of town, as a serious ten year old. Mr James was well known in the local community for buying objects of interest, he'd then sell them on to the growing number of wealthy tourists that had started to invade the town. He was part way between a pawnshop and an antique shop. But he was a fair man. With the profits from the train set Gil had been able to buy his first microscope and a bunch of roses for his mother on her birthday. He'd been fortunate, the model engine he'd been given was a limited edition and now some seven or so years later collectors had already started to artificially raise its value.

Gil drove past the far boundaries of McCarran Airport; he pondered the role the fates had had in his life. Uprooting him from the comfort of California, to a desert community, that seemed to have twenty-four access to all the excesses imaginable to man. Yet fate, by such actions, had given him more than he would have thought possible.

He thought back to his first Christmas in Las Vegas. The solitude of being the sole willing volunteer to cover the shifts didn't seem to affect him. Only now on reflection was he able to realise the emptiness he felt at this holiday time was loneliness. Now that he'd discovered more, a life, a reason to request the holidays as vacation.

He chuckled to himself, if only he'd taken his head out of the sand, or what did she say, `raise your head out of the microscope'. Another chuckle escaped him. If only she'd known his head was always out of the microscope, always had been since she had arrived at the lab.

Her arrival had prompted many changes in his life, not least the traditions of the holiday season.

Her first Christmas at the lab had ensured she was the lab tech who worked the holiday season. He noted she didn't complain, just accepted it. He'd watched her carefully since her arrival; her previous profession had caused raised eyebrows on his recruitment of her. She'd worked tirelessly to prove her doubters wrong. Her reports were thorough and delivered quickly. She'd maintained an air of professionalism for the past ten months she'd worked at the lab, something he admired.

Now they were together, virtually alone for the first time since she'd started to work at the lab. The shift was eerily quiet, prompting him to be drawn to her presence. He found her in the break room pouring over a book.

"Err…I hope I'm not disturbing you."

She smiled at him. "No, not at all." She paused, closing the book; he noted the title, `The Uses Of Forensic Science by Brian Caddy'. "Is there something you need me to do?"

"No the lab's pretty quiet tonight. I just wondered if you wanted to talk?"

Her eyes narrowed, the suspicion evident. He briefly wondered who or what had made her react so defensively to an innocent request. "What about?"

"What?"

"What do you want to talk about?"

He remembered the book she'd closed as he entered. "You know, the usual."

She laughed, a sound that once it stopped he wanted to elicit again. "You...talk. I'm sorry, I know I've only worked here since February, but it's long enough to know you don't talk."

He smiled. "Maybe that's because there's been no-one to talk with."

That had startled her. Her eyes grew wider, a small smile played around her lips. "Riiight, so suddenly I'm somebody you can talk with?"

He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling as he came to life before her eyes. "Well we'd have to have a conversation first, don't you think?"

There was a pause; they both stared at each other, daring the other to be the first to look away, to blink to speak. Catherine conceded, giggling as she suddenly realized the situation she was in. "Okay, okay, so what do you want to talk about?"

"How are you finding the job?"

Safety, she smiled. "Good, I like it for the moment."

He tapped the book on the table. "Aspirations?"

She smiled again, a hint of shyness in her eyes. "Yeah, I don't want to be stuck in the lab for the rest of my life."

He sat on a chair next to her. Turning to face her he asked. "So, what do you want to do?"

There was something comforting in the way he spoke, not mocking, not disinterested, a genuine interest. She found herself talking honestly for the first time in a long time. "Well, I want to do your job, be a CSI. I've seen what you do, read about it too. I like puzzles; I want to be challenged every day. Face an unknown and solve it."

He smiled back at her, finding it virtually impossible to take his eyes from hers. "So that's why you were happy to work the holidays?"

"No, my boyfriend's out of town. My sister is visiting my mom. I had no place better to be." She looked down at the table a little self- consciously. "Sorry, I didn't mean that…"

"Hey, no offence taken. I love it here if you hadn't noticed." She laughed, that melodic sound building a warm feeling inside his stomach. "So, it's got to be our break now. How about I treat us to lunch?"

"You sure, you want to be seen with me? I mean I have a reputation. You may not like what people may say."

He looked at her, puzzled for a moment. "I'd be honoured to be seen with you. As for a reputation, yes you do have one, as the most efficient lab tech we've had in years. The lab's going to miss you in April."

"April?"

"Well, we have a new budget, and I need a blood spatter analyst. You'd not happen to have seen one of those have you?"

She giggled as she linked her arm through his right arm. "Maybe, but you need to feed me first to find out what I know."

"Ah, bribery."

They'd spent an hour talking and eating, forging a friendship that would survive their various trials.

The next evening as he arrived for his shift, he found a small package on his desk. A label attached to the brightly coloured Christmas paper. He turned it over, quickly reading it, `To Gil, Merry Christmas, Cath.' He unwrapped it to find a pen engraved with his name in gold letters. A small card lay underneath it. `For signing all your reports.' He smiled, gently fingering it, just as he'd done with the rubber spiders all those years ago. He opened the top left hand drawer of his desk, carefully placing the gift inside, in order that it wasn't lost in the chaos of his desk.

So began the tradition of gift giving between them. Sometimes before Christmas, sometimes after, but never forgotten, through the years.

Gil took his left hand off the steering wheel momentarily, his hand reaching to the right hand shirt pocket. He let his fingers trace down the clip of the pen, which held it tight in his shirt pocket. That pen was a symbol, something that had survived the years of friendship between them.

He turned onto another street lit by a combination of streetlights and festive lights. A nativity scene was lit in the grounds of the church he passed. The holy couple crouched around a manger, while various farm animals looked on; the simplicity of the scene was not lost on him.

He remembered Lindsey's first Christmas far from a simple occasion. He'd gone over to Catherine's house after his shift on Christmas Eve, just to exchange gifts, as Catherine was still on maternity leave.

Christmas in Las Vegas had a new meaning, the little baby his best friend had so recently given birth to, barely over six weeks old, yet still able to capture his heart. He knew he'd spoil her, but wasn't that the great thing about being an uncle, spoil them then leave swiftly for the parent's to deal with the aftermath. He chuckled, then realised he wouldn't and couldn't do that to Catherine, leave her, no he'd be there for her no matter what the ravages of a sugar high did to her daughter in the future.

He knocked on the door. Getting no reply, he tried a second and third time. He was about to get his cell phone out and call her when the door opened, to reveal Catherine, her hair looked as if it hadn't seen a brush in the past few days, there were dark circles under her eyes, which themselves were bloodshot.

"Cath, you okay?"

She blinked a couple of times as if trying to place the voice and face to a name. "Gil?"

He pushed the door, to allow himself to enter her house. "Yeah sweetie it is. What's going on?"

She yawned, swiftly followed by a second yawn. She closed her eyes, slowly opening them blinking, each time her eyes stayed closed that second or two longer. She felt an arm around her shoulders and felt herself being steered towards the sofa. Collapsing in it she let out a sigh. "Thanks…uhmm… what were you saying?"

"Why? What's going on?"

"Uh… Lindsey's been cranky the past few days, not settling, crying all the time. It's not helped with Ed being on the road for the next two weeks. I don't know when I last sat down let alone slept."

"So Ed's just gone off and left you with a sick baby?"

"No, no she was okay when he left at the beginning of the week." A loud yawn interrupted her, she shook her head a couple of times as if trying to shake off the cloak of sleep. "I was going to take her to the doctors today if she was no better. I'd just got her to settle down when you came."

Gil felt the sudden urge to take care of her. "Cath, you go and lie down for an hour or so, while Lindsey's sleeping. I'll stay here and I promise to wake you the moment she wakes."

"Are you sure? You don't mind?"

"I've nowhere else to be. Once she wakes if she's still not well I'll take you to the doctors. You shouldn't be driving you'll fall asleep at the wheel. Now go, grab some sleep I'll be fine, honest."

She hadn't needed to be told twice, leaving him as she sought out her bed.

It was some two hours later when Lindsey woke, her cries soon turning to screams when her initial attempts to gain attention had failed. Gil rushed to the nursery aiming to try to calm her, before she woke Catherine. He wasn't entirely certain of how he would achieve this, he just knew that Catherine also needed her sleep.

As he leant over the crib, there was no mistaking the rash that had appeared on her face, making it appear an unnatural red colour. There was no preventing waking Catherine now; it was obvious even to him that Lindsey needed a doctor.

They'd been lucky, seeing a doctor within ten minutes of arriving at the emergency room. It was clear that people had better places to be on Christmas Eve. The diagnosis of German measles was quick and Gil listened intently as the treatment and possible future symptoms were described. They'd been given a script for some mild anti- inflammatory medicine to control Lindsey's fever, which Gil had filled on the way back to Catherine's.

As he pulled up on the drive, he noted that Lindsey was once again asleep, her mother not far behind her. His first aim was to get them inside, Lindsey settled and Catherine fed. He was then going to call in sick, having every intention of looking after Lindsey and Catherine.

Settling Lindsey was a lot easier than either Catherine or Gil anticipated, the prescribed medicine seemed to have a soothing effect making her drowsy. She went down easily for the first time in two days.

Catherine smiled at Gil as he set about creating a quick yet nourishing meal of omelettes and toast. "You're spoiling me."

"I hardly think making you omelettes could be called spoiling you. I'd have made something more extravagant, but I was limited in my resources." He winked at her.

She yawned, quickly covering her mouth. "Hmm…sorry. I'm just so tired."

"Well eat this up. We'll get you to bed and I'll make sure Lindsey is watched over." He paused, not entirely sure how to approach his next request. If Eddie was really on tour, and not planning on returning for the next few days, he didn't want her on her own with Lindsey sick, especially as it was Lindsey's first Christmas. It should be special despite the measles. "Err Cath, are you going to call Eddie, get him to come home and help you?"

There was a brief flash of sadness in Catherine's eyes, which she successfully managed to quickly cover. "No, no, he wouldn't be interested…I mean he wouldn't come home, this is his big chance with this band, there has been a lot of interest in them. If he were to leave them mid-tour some other manager or agent would surely pick them up. I couldn't do that to him. Besides what could he do?" She took a forkful of the omelette, closing her eyes and letting it melt in her mouth. "You know if you ever give up the bugs, you'd do great opening an omelette place."

Gil bit his lip, to prevent his anger from being revealed, how could she say her husband could do nothing, it was obvious to him that she needed help, wouldn't Eddie see that to. Deciding now was not a time for an argument, assured Eddie wouldn't be returning over Christmas, he decided on his course of action. "Listen Cath, if it's not too much, let me come and stay with you over Christmas." As she opened her mouth to protest, he held up his hand to prevent her. "Just hear me out okay. I've no plans, I would love to spend Christmas with you and Lindsey and I could help you take care of her. A baby is hard work, let alone a sick child. I can cook, do laundry and I'm pretty good with an iron. I'd like to do this, but only if you're comfortable with it."

There was a brief silence; he could see an array of emotions in her eyes, before she finally spoke. "Are you sure?"

"Hey, you know me, would I offer if I didn't mean it?"

She smiled, reassured. "No you wouldn't. I guess that means I need to get the spare bed ready then." She suddenly seemed different as if a heavy load had been taken from her shoulders.

Gil had a warm feeling inside him. He had done this. He had provided her with this relief. "No, don't worry about that now. You go and get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake and we can organize it then."

She surprised him by leaning across the table and kissing his cheek, before leaving for her room. He reached up to where his cheek had met her lips, his hand covering the spot, as if by doing so he could seal that kiss on his cheek forever.

A short while later, he quietly crept towards Catherine's room, pushing the door with his fingertips; he checked that she was indeed sleeping. He then checked on Lindsey in the nursery, before returning to the lounge and dialling Jim.

Jim Brass answered his office phone quickly, with a brief, "Brass."

"Err Jim, it's Gil, I need a favour?"

Jim's curiosity was immediately raised. "Ok, tell me what it is and I'll see what I can do."

"I'm at Catherine's, Eddie's out of town and Lindsey has come down with German measles. She needs someone to help her out."

Jim tried to suppress the smile from his voice. "And that someone would be you?"

"I know I'm scheduled to be working, but this is a sort of emergency, is there any way…."

"Hey don't worry about it. I remember when Ellie had the measles, it wasn't pretty. I'll call in Rogers and Smithson to cover."

"Thanks Jim. There's one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"I need to get some things. I don't want to leave Lindsey or Cath alone, could you come by and just watch over them?"

Jim Brass beamed. If only Catherine knew how much this man loved her, but then she was married to Eddie Willows. "I'll be there in about ten minutes."

When Catherine woke some three hours later, she barely recognized her lounge. A small Christmas tree was by the fireplace bedecked with lights, two stockings hung from the mantelpiece and there was the smell of chicken cooking.

She found Gil wrestling with a polar bear, which he was trying to wrap in Christmas paper.

"What did you do?"

He looked up at her, a beaming smile on his face. "It's Christmas Eve Cath, I thought we should at least show some recognition of the holiday."

"This is…this is…."

"It's what Lindsey's first Christmas will be remembered for." He finished for her. "Not the measles, not her daddy being away, but this, it's not much, but…."

"It's perfect." She half whispered. She came and knelt beside him holding the bear still so he could at least get the paper around it. "When did you get time to do all this?"

"I had a little help. Jim came by and made sure you and Lindsey were okay while I went out. I bought food to see us over the next few days, and then figured you'd probably not had time to do much Christmas shopping. I saw this bear in a store window and thought that's what Santa would bring to Lindsey, so I got it for her. We couldn't have Santa forgetting her now, could we? The tree, the tree was in the same store, they were closing for the holiday, so I persuaded them to let me buy it with decorations complete."

"You shouldn't of…." She looked a little embarrassed, "how much do I owe you?"

"You owe me nothing. It's enough that you are opening your house and sharing your family with me."

As Gil approached the outskirts of Henderson, he unconsciously raised his left hand to his cheek. Immediately finding the spot where that kiss from all those years ago had been planted.

It was several years before they spent Christmas together again. The next Christmas he shared with Catherine and Lindsey had been the first one when she'd officially been separated from Eddie. Ever since Ted Goggle had served her with notification of the Family Services investigation into her care of Lindsey she'd been unnerved. This had been intensified by Eddie's attempts to add to that pressure, by hinting at contacting them whenever he wasn't given free access to Lindsey.

Eventually on the night of the Christmas party at the lab Gil had confronted Catherine regarding her change in behaviour. He'd steered her towards his office, before allowing her to join the rest of the team in the break room.

"Gil?"

"Cath, take a seat." He gestured towards the sofa. Now he had her alone, he wasn't entirely sure of what he was going to say and was hoping for some inspiration before this became too uncomfortable.

"O..k-ay. So what've I done?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me."

"What do you mean?" The defensiveness in her voice was barely masked.

"Cath, it's me, Gil. Despite what you might think, I do notice things. You are not yourself. Something's wrong and has been for the past few weeks, my guess is it's getting worse. I want to help."

She sighed, her head dropping to study her fingers momentarily, until she was sure she could face him. "It's Ed. Ever since the Family Services investigation he's been holding it against me like some invisible sword of Damocles." She suddenly stood and started to pace backwards and forwards before him. "I don't know why I let him get to me. He just does. I want Lindsey to feel she can rely on both of us. I don't know what to do. He just turns up and demands to see her, or take her out, the moment I start to protest he mentions Goggle. I'm backed into a corner. Lindsey wants to be with me this Christmas, open presents together, but I have this feeling he's going to come over and just take her away." She stopped, her back to him, her head in her hands, her body was trembling slightly.

Gil stood, moving towards her, he wrapped his arms around her, noticing how she reacted likewise, clinging on to him as if her life depended on it. "Shhh, it's going to be okay. How about we re-enact Lindsey's first Christmas, minus the measles of course?"

She let out a small chuckle, before pulling back and staring up at him. "You want to get in the middle of this?"

"Catherine someone's got to stand up to Eddie, or he's going to mess with all the plans the two of you make. I understand you can't. But I can and will, if you are willing to trust me."

She gave a half smile, her nerves still evident. "Okay, but can I check with Lindsey first."

"Of course I wouldn't have it any other way."

At the end of the shift they took Gil's Tahoe first to his townhouse, to collect some clothes for his stay, before going to Catherine's house. They were greeted by Lindsey launching herself at Gil with a squeal of. "Uncle Gil." Immediately banishing any doubts Gil may have had of intruding on their celebrations.

He spent the next few days immersed once more in their love. He spoilt Lindsey, with Catherine's agreement, managing to sit through both The Grinch and 102 Dalmatians at the local movie theatre without falling asleep. They'd taken Lindsey to see Santa and she'd had the good grace to humour Gil and not tell him she really was too old for this `kids stuff'. On Christmas Eve she'd made chocolate chip cookies with him, leaving two of them beside her bed, as she went to sleep, for Santa, together with a saucer of milk on the porch for Rudolph. She'd even managed to look amazed and excited the next morning when she woke to find only crumbs and an empty saucer, knowing full well the destination of the cookies.

It had been an idyllic Christmas. Maybe it was because Gil's Tahoe was parked outside the house over the holidays, maybe it was because Eddie had just gotten tired of playing his little games. But he'd made no attempt to contact them, or Lindsey.

As Gil had left the day after Christmas, Catherine had pulled the door closed behind her, to shield the two of them from Lindsey for a few minutes of privacy. "Thank you Gil."

"You have nothing to thank me for. I've had a wonderful Christmas."

"Yes I do. If you hadn't have been here, I'd have spent the whole of Christmas on edge. Lindsey wouldn't have enjoyed herself; neither would I. So again, thank you." She leaned towards him, her hands taking hold of either side of his head as she slowly brought her lips to meet his.

As they pulled back, he stared at her, as if trying to read what was going on in her mind. "Be careful you don't start something you can't handle." His right hand reached towards her face, gently stroking her cheek before cupping it.

She leant into it in response, and then caught hold of his hand with hers, and holding it steady while she planted a kiss on his palm. "Who says I can't handle it, or don't want it. The question is what do you want Gil?"

He stood for a moment like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck. He gulped visibly, opened his mouth to reply...

"Mommy!" An indignant cry interrupted them.

Catherine turned towards the door, opening it to allow her daughter out. Lindsey stood before her mother, while Catherine rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders.

"We'll continue this later." He winked at Catherine, and then bent down so he was at eyelevel with Lindsey. "Goodbye Lindsey, thank you for sharing your Christmas with me."

Catherine and Lindsey waved to him as he reversed the Tahoe, turning it as he reached the road. As the car started to accelerate, Lindsey returned inside. Catherine stood on the step, watching the road until the Tahoe was no longer visible, then hurried inside to find her daughter.

He parked the car on the driveway. Getting out he was careful not to slam the door and alert the occupants he hoped were sleeping inside the house.

Reaching the door, he found his key, unlocking it and letting it swing gently open. He stood on the step, removing his shoes, in so doing allowing an almost silent entry into the house. Closing the door, he stood for a minute, mesmerized by the tall Christmas tree that dominated the lounge; it's lights reflecting off the tinsel adding an extra sparkle to its emerald green fronds.

He removed the parcel from the inside pocket of his jacket, then quickly concealed it amongst the growing pile of gifts beneath the tree.

Having successfully completed his first mission, he took off his jacket, throwing it casually over the arm of the sofa. He then retreated to the kitchen and quickly retrieved the ingredients he needed from the refrigerator. He was soon lost in the task of cooking, something he enjoyed.

The dish prepared, he placed it on a plate, found the cutlery and placed that together with a glass of orange juice on a tray. Carefully, yet steadily he climbed the stairs, and then walked along the upstairs hallway.

He stopped in front of the doorway at the end, balancing the tray on his left knee; he reached with his right hand to turn the door handle. As the catch was released, he gently pushed the door open.

He walked towards the bed, placing the tray on the floor for a moment, so he could concentrate on waking the occupant.

He leant down, kissing her forehead, the tip of her nose, then her lips. "Good morning sweetheart. Happy Christmas Eve."

He was rewarded with one of her dazzling smiles, as she slowly opened her eyes. Then reached for him with both of her arms, pulling his face back to hers. She captured his lips with hers, at first chastely, then allowing the kiss to deepen. As he pulled away, she smiled again. "Christmas Eve already?"

"Yes. And I know how you are, how you want everything just perfect, so I made you breakfast."

She sat up shuffling back in the bed, so her back was against the headboard, allowing him to place the tray on her lap.

He moved around the bed, coming to sit beside her on the other side of it. He put his arm around her shoulders, and then steadied the tray as she shuffled a little more, in order for her back to rest slightly against the right side of his chest.

Taking a forkful of the omelette she hummed. "This is sooo good. Here try some."

A fork was soon wavering in front of him; he leant forward slightly, capturing it in his mouth. "Hmm, you're right, even if I say so myself, I make a mean omelette."

"That you do."

"Have I told you how much I love you?"

"I love you too. And not just for your omelettes. I want this, our first Christmas together to be perfect."

He chuckled. "But it's not our first Christmas. As I recall our first Christmas was you ploughing your way through `The Uses Of Forensic Science'."

She laughed. "You know what I mean the first with us as a family."

"But that was the measles Christmas."

She took hold of the tray, placing it on the floor. She turned to Gil, smiling then straddled his waist, taking hold of his head with both of her hands, she whispered. "You know what I mean, the first of many with you as my husband."

He couldn't resist her, leaning forward he captured her lips again for a languid kiss.

He remembered hearing long ago that Christmas was a family time. Having been deprived of a true family of his own for so long, he'd never really enjoyed the season. Now as he celebrated for the first time with his family, he felt a warmth, a love like no other. The lights of Las Vegas would never seem as bright as the light in his wife's, his Catherine's eyes, as he shared this enchanted season with her for the first of the rest of their lives.

The End.