A/N For Trekkiechick, have a wonderful Christmas.
Please excuse my spelling and grammar; you know I'm terrible at it.
I don't own the characters.
Snow was falling lightly outside the window. Just little stars of white, back lit by the moon just rising in the far, far distance. If one had entered the room there were three things that most certainly stood out, one of which was the stunning view, the snow passing leisurely by. The second was the desk, the hulking dark form that seemed to make the rest of the open space shadow in comparison. The papers were piled high in orderly piles, paper weights and pens in abundance. The third was the fact that there were no lights on at the darkening hour.
Funnily enough, it was these three things that stood out above all else, if you were to glance in that was all: the view, the desk and the lack of lighting. Not the man, the single solitary man, sitting at the desk, his head bent, working tirelessly at the papers piled high. Not the fact that there were three chairs in the room, two on the side of the desk with the back to the window as though two people normally worked there. And since one wouldn't have noticed the man one wouldn't have noticed that he kept looking up anxiously at the door, over the top of his glasses, not as though he was expecting someone to be there but more like he was hoping. For what, who could tell at a glance.
When it became impossible to see the slanted black text across the pages he stood. His jacket was hanging limply on the coat rack by the door and he took it with his brief case. The building was silent, his footsteps ringing against the plain grey stairs as he made his purposeful decent to the doors far below, pulling on his coat as he did so, a plain black frock.
The snow gave a crunch of complaint as he stepped out into the snowy streets, turning to lock the door behind him. It was a still night, not a breath of wind as the snow continued circling down in their little paths. Landing against the man's black jacket and staying there, frozen against the felt in their unique little patterns of lace.
Each and every house he passed, briefcase in hand and collar flipped up against the chill that stung the skin, the lights were on. Christmas lights hung in the garden, glowing though the drawn curtains of those houses with a Christmas tree indoors. Families, friends, anyone and everyone seemed to be gathered in those living rooms, laughing, drinking, eating, and doing whatever people did during the holidays. He really couldn't have told you what it was one was supposed to do on holidays.
In the distance there were carols, slightly off key with risings of laughter, who they were sung by the man couldn't tell, it drifted in the night air from how far away he really didn't know.
"Hey." The man jumped, turning quickly to look back the way he'd come. Behind him, about ten feet or so stood a man. His hair was covered by a Nepalese-hat, the little frozen braids of wool hanging down besides his cold-flushed cheeks. He was smiling, his green eyes bright against his reddened skin. "Ah, it was you."
There was a very long silence, neither moving until the man with the briefcase slowly looked down, not seeming to want to continue a conversation but not really wanting to carry on his way either. The off key singing seemed to have evened out in the distance, not reasonably unpleasant to listen to no longer.
"I... ah," The newcomer dragged the back of his sleeve across his nose, still beaming, "Cold isn't it."
"Yes." The man looked back up, trying his best to give the younger man a slight smile though it didn't reach his eyes the stranger beamed, walking closer, and digging his hands into his parka pockets.
"Plans for tonight?" He asked, letting out a long breath that stayed suspended in the air for a moment.
The smile fell very quickly, "No."
"But it's Christmas Mr. Spears!"
"What, and you do, Ronald?" The boys smile faded ever so slightly and he let out a dry laugh, there was no humor in his tone what so ever.
"Well, ya'know. There are some good shows on and I was going to pick up some Chinese food or something." He kicked at the snow edging the sides of the sidewalk, laughing again.
"Then why are you out here. It is late."
"Seven isn't that late. I, ah, I was just on my way back home. I was just dropping a gift off at Eric Slingby's. Alan was there. They invited me to stay but..."
"But?"
"Well, I figured I had better things to do then invade on them," Ronald tugged on one of the braids of his hat, smiling up at him.
William sighed, looking off towards the singing that was dying off in the distance, it had become quite pleasant, the strains of Hark the Herald Angles fading. "Then I would suppose my invitation would be useless."
"Hm?" Ronald looked more surprised than William had guessed, his head tipping to the side like a little confused puppy.
He smiled, "I'd even pay for the Chinese food."
"You'd...well," his little confused smile became a grin, his eyes narrowing and he rocked back onto his heels, "How can I refuse," then he seemed to remember something and dug back into his pockets, finally finding a small crumpled package. "I'll let you buy me dinner, but only if you take this." He winked pressing the package into William's hand.
"What is it?" He glanced at the little gift, bow crunched and the paper depicting little polar-bears on sleds.
"It's a Christmas present," he grinned then shrived somewhat dramatically so William had no choice but to notice.
"Mm. We can go to my place. I suppose I have no choice but to buy you dinner now, I'm afraid I didn't get you a gift."
"Ah, what does it matter? Food is the best anyway."
And, as the two turned, their backs faded into the wash of white as the snow continued to fall. The voices that had been caroling faded completely into the Christmas night. The feeling remained though, hovering around them like the snow itself, falling over the city and many cities beyond.
Hark the herald angels sing
"Glory to the new born king"
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconcile.
Joyful all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies
With angelic host proclaim
Christ is born in Bethlehem
"Hark" The herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King"