I know this is a Christmas story, sort of, and it's after Christmas now, but I'd sort of forgotten about it and then I remembered and I thought oh well, I'll post it anyway.

Warnings for this story include possible typos, anachronism, flirting and Roxy-bashing. And of course hints of Joetina.

'Oh, good. Here comes my Christmas bonus.'

From the other side of the partition, Joey Boswell flashed his best and brightest charming smile, exuding the sort of cheerful elegance he thought people found attractive.

'That's a nice greeting, I must say, sweetheart.'

'No- I'm serious.' It was true- the weeks leading up to Christmas the DHSS was inundated with clients coming out of the woodwork, nagging for extra cash to get through the holiday. There had been staff protests every year- they simply couldn't fit all of those people into regular hours, and not one of them was prepared to go overtime without extra pay. In the end, head office had caved, and Martina was now doing her third consecutive hour of time and a half. 'This is the one time of year I can actually be pleased to see you and all yer swindlin' family.'

Joey Boswell-stories could last half an hour at least, once you'd added embellishment and a great deal of sobbing.

He seemed very pleased by this last comment, and immediately opened fire.

'Well, you see, dear lady, during these long, cold, bitter winter months, when the temperature drops and the wind blows harshly down the poverty-stricken streets of Liverpool…'

Martina rolled not just her eyes but her whole head. 'When the whole world comes to an end and the population are turned to brown bread…is there a point to this little bit of purple prose or not?'

He gave a majestic nod. 'Course there is, sweetheart, but I'm only half-done.'

Her mouth dropped open a little bit at his sheer nerve, but she didn't allow herself to slump to the desk. Remember the money. The longer he goes on, the more you get. And you could do with it.

'So anyway, in these cripplingly freezing times, when extra expenses manifest themselves in the form of gifts for loved ones and food to tide us over the winter, it often comes as a shock when one receives a heatin' bill of this size.' With a flourish, he produced the aforementioned heating bill, waving it as though he were a magician producing a handkerchief from thin air, and plonked it on the desk.

Martina read the sum aloud in disbelief. 'Three…hundred…and twenty pounds.' Shhe leaned forward. 'Been tryin' ter burn yer house down the 'ard way, have you?'

'That sort of bill comes through every letterbox as soon as the gruelling winter hits, you know.'

'I do know, yeah,' Martina said. 'Well, I know they drop through your letterbox every year, anyway.'

She reached for his family's file, rifling through the many thousand pages and bringing out a stack of carbon-copy forms.

'Nineteen eighty-five, December, heating bill of two-hundred and ninety pounds. December nineteen eighty-four, heating bill of two hundred and seventy-three pounds. Sound familiar at all?'

She glanced up, but Joey wasn't even looking at her now, his attention instead focused on a small box he was turning over and over in his hands. 'It might, sweetheart,' he said absently. 'It might.'

'However,' the DHSS lady said significantly, 'if we add into that equation all the heatin' bills from September, October, November, January…'

Joey hummed and continued studying the box.

'As well as yer telephone bills for the last three years…I think it's safe to conclude, Mister Boswell, that this latest heating bill you've run up might have less to do with the 'cruel winter months' as you put it, and be more in keeping with your expensive tastes.'

Mister Boswell was so affected by this latest remark that he half laughed, half coughed. 'Expensive tastes?'

She just eyed his leather gear meaningfully. He followed her gaze and chuckled. 'You may have a point, sweetheart.'

'You think maybe there might be an easy solution to this little problem, Mister Boswell?' she asked sweetly. 'You know, such as either usin' less 'eat, or, say, spending your money on payin' yer bills instead of all that leather?'

'There could be,' Joey said slowly, and she wasn't fooled for a minute. That tone of voice was mocking- intended to sound like he was agreeing, intended to lull herbefore he delivered a winningly cheeky Boswell alternative. 'Or…' he continued, and she inwardly groaned. I knew it.

'Or…I could continue to dress with style, I could continue to keep my fam-i-ly nice and warm…' he lifted a pen off the desk and pressed it into her right hand, 'you could sign me off a cheque for three hundred and twenty pounds and we could all live happily ever after!'

Joey finished his spiel with a smile and a wink. Martina sighed.

'Do you ever take no for an answer, Mister Boswell?'

'Oh, that depends on the question, sunshine,' he said, turning his attention back to the box in his hands.

A part of Martina- well, quite a large part, if she were honest, would have relished throwing him out of the Social Security without his form or his money. And an even larger part of her would have liked to say a few things to the obnoxious eldest Boswell, a couple of inappropriate words which might let him know just what she thought of his ridiculous excuses. But there was another part of Martina, albeit a very, very small part, that couldn't help but be entertained by Joey Boswell's ludicrous attempts to cheat the system. And for some inexplicable reason it was always this part of her that won, that had her turning a blind eye to little flaws in his stories, had her ignoring the fact that someone who could afford a '50s Jaguar was not in the least bit badly off and giving him forms anyway.

And it was this part of her that had decided to rear its head again today.

'Oh, well,' she sighed, sliding a form over the counter. 'I suppose it is Christmas after all. Time to forgive and forget- or do a good impression of it anyway. I don't think it'd be possible to forget you, unfortunately for me.'

'Ah, yes, I am quite an unforgettable sort of person,' he replied, deliberately drawing a different meaning from her words. 'D'you want this?'

This last question appeared to be an afterthought, as if an idea had just suddenly occurred to him. Martina looked up to see he was now holding the little box out towards her.

She frowned. 'What is it?'

He passed it to her and she flipped open the lid, unable to conceal her astonishment when she laid eyes upon the contents.

'It's a gold watch!' she said in disbelief. And that was understating it a fair bit- the watch was studded with diamonds- real ones, by the looks of it. All in all, it looked like an incredibly expensive piece of jewellery.

'Yeah, I know it's a gold watch. D'you want it?'

Martina's eyes flickered from Joey to the watch and back to Joey again, and then she narrowed them.

'All right, Mister Boswell, what are you up to?'

'Up to, sweetheart?'

'Why are you tryin' ter bribe me?'

Joey laughed quite unashamedly. 'I suppose I should've seen that one conin'. No bribe, sunshine. After all, I've got me form, haven't I?'

The DHSS lady reluctantly conceded in her mind that this was true, although she didn't drop her suspicions entirely. 'Then what are you givin' it to me for?' Another idea dawned on her. 'It's not dodgy, is it? You didn't steal it did you? And now you're tryin' to get rid of it so the authorities come after me and not you?'

Joey stared at her with undisguised hurt. 'Would I do that? Would I? Look, to set your mind at rest, I've got a docket somewhere..' he fished around in his jacket pocket, producing a piece of paper and waving it under her nose just long enough for her to see that it was indeed a receipt.

Martina studied the watch again, her suspicion giving way to surprise and total and utter confusion. It didn't make sense for Joey Boswell, one of her sworn enemies (or at least that's what she told herself he was) to present her with a lovely, very valuable sort of gift for no reason whatsoever. It just didn't make sense at all.

'But…' she began, not really sure where her sentence was going, 'I don't understand…'

'Look, I bought it-for…someone,' a note of pain stuck his voice on the word 'someone' for Christmas but…well, they didn't want it, see, and now I'm at a loss as for what to do with it.'

This explanation at least did make sense, although it caught Martina off-guard to see Joey Boswell being tender and honest about something.

'But why give it to me?'

He shrugged. 'It's a girl's watch. You're a girl, aren't you? Thought you might…like it, I suppose.' There was something a little forced in the way he tried to sound casual, but Martina wasn't sure how she could interpret that.

The DHSS lady was struck with a violent dose of flattery- his words hadn't been the most inspiring sentiments she'd ever heard, but it was still quite nice that someone had chosen to give something so lovely to her. All the same, this was someone she was supposed to have an impartial, working relationship with- she couldn't start accepting gifts from him and showing any sort of bias.

'Mister Boswell, I appreciate that,' she said softly, 'but I can't take this from you. It's worth an 'undred pounds at least! And I'm not going to bother asking where on earth you could have gotten that sort of money from.'

He ignored the last comment. 'Sell it, then.'

'Why don't you sell it?'

'Weeell,' he said, smiling, 'if I sold it I'd have to declare it, wouldn't I?'

She smiled back in spite of herself. 'Not that you've ever been that way inclined before. Couldn't you have it refunded?'

'Oh, prob'ly, but I can't be bothered. Look, do you want it or not?'

Martina chewed on her bottom lip. She did want it, rather- it was dreadfully lovely, but her moral instincts told her to reject the gift. Without being consciously aware of doing so, however, she began to lightly run her index finger around the edge of the watch's face.

Joey picked up on this and was smugly pleased by it. 'Oh, go on, Martina,' he pushed the box closer, 'you know you do. Take it. Do us both a favour.'

She breathed in, held it for a moment, and then let her breath out with her response. 'Well…thank you,' she said awkwardly. 'Thank you…very much.' This was all very strange.

Joey took her hand, holding it palm up, placed the box in it and closed her fingers around it. 'Enjoy.'

He stood up, giving her a friendly nod, and Martina smiled tentatively back.

'Oh- Mister Boswell?'

He paused.

'Don't think this changes anythin'. You do realise no matter how much expensive jewellery you present me with, I'm not going to show you any preferential treatment.'

'Oh, I know,' he grinned, 'and I wouldn't want you to change for anything.' Joey winked. 'Merry Christmas, sweetheart.'

And with that he left, and Martina was left to admire the present he'd left behind.

It wasn't until after the New Year that Joey returned to the DHSS, having been rushed off his feet by the family over the Christmas period. He'd been so busy keeping everyone together and trying to keep their Christmas free of rows he hadn't had time to think much about the watch.

It had been intended for Roxy, a sort of kiss-and-make-up gift to signify a new start to their relationship, but the day after he'd purchased it, they'd had the row to end all rows. He'd been too devoted to his mother and younger siblings, she'd gone back to her husband, 'for good, this time' and said she never wanted to see him again.

So then he'd been stuck with a pricey wristwatch, attached to some quite painful memories, and just unsure what to do about it.

It had been very much a snap decision to present it to Martina, but once he had made up his mind to do so he became rather happy about the idea. Despite her dragonlike reactions to any claims she deemed untruthful, and her ability to all but make grown men cry, she really was lovely. There were occasions when he felt fond of her, when he could see through her stony mask and catch glimpses of the real her. She wasn't all that terrible and heartless, not truly- that was just the uniform that came with the job. She had the same cares, the same fears as everyone else. And she was, he had to admit, very pretty. The watch would look bloody beautiful on her, if she chose to keep it.

And, of course, after all the times she'd helped out his family, giving out giros and cheques and forms where they weren't deserved, it wouldn't hurt to give her something nice in return.

There was another small thought nagging at the corners of his brain, suggesting itself as another reason, but Joey dismissed it for the time being. Now that was going a little too far. Possibly. He'd come back to it later.

Now, when he returned to the Department of Health and Social Security, the lingering remnants of a post New Year's hangover still buzzing about his head and stomach, and settling himself into the chair, the gift was the last thing on his mind. The chair at the next desk scraped and clattered as its occupant stood up, and the noise made his hand instinctively fly to his forehead. Joey massaged his temples, trying to ease the pain a little.

'Looks like we've been celebratin' a bit too 'ard, haven't we, Mister Boswell?'

'Ah,' Joey moaned, 'greetings.' He couldn't mutter enough enthusiasm right about now to act all cheery. It was just going to be a quick case of sign-on, go home today, he thought.

'I won't bother to ask if you've found any work,' Martina said, fishing out a form for him and slapping it down on the desk. Joey winced at the action.

'Tell me, sweetheart,' he said in the same soft, pained voice, 'where d'you find work when everywhere's closed?

'All right, all right. Point taken. Fill that in.'

He did so with some relish, despite his pounding head. Joey raised his eyes, with the intention of attempting a pseudo-charming grin, but on their way to her face, they alighted on her left arm. Although her long-sleeved blouse reached almost to her knuckles, the bulge beneath it was obvious to his eyes. She was wearing it.

So instead of making a stab at the smile, he reached forward, took hold of her wrist and rolled up her sleeve so he could see it.

He'd been right. She did look lovely in it.

Martina raised one eyebrow.

'Nice to know you appreciate it,' he smiled, a genuine one that sprang to his face naturally. She smirked back.

'I rather think I do, y'know.' Martina looked down at the watch for a moment, admiring it, and then she pushed her sleeve back over it again. 'But not a good idea to show it to this lot. Don't want to be gettin' a Boswell reputation now, do I?'

'Boswell reputation?' he mimicked her raised eyebrow teasingly, inviting further elaboration on the expression.

She was looking at him in a positively wicked way. 'Oh, you know, flaunting gear you can't possibly afford…' she laughed a little, and it was a pretty sound. Not the sort of thing one was often privileged to hear coming from the mouth of an icy-hearted DHSS lady.

'Did I ever tell you,' he said quietly, 'that you are a very beautiful lady indeed?'

She gave an audible snort.

'I mean it.'

Martina let her eyes roll full circle. 'All right, Mister Boswell. Enough with the flattery. I do have a job to be gettin' on with- and like it or not, it doesn't involve bein' soppy towards you.'

'Of course, sweetheart, of course.' He took her hand in both of his for a second, squeezed it and then let go.

Joey left the Social Security in a good mood, his headache forgotten. The watch may have been wasted on Roxy, but seeing Martina so made up with it chuffed him immensely. He knew the next time he saw her she probably wouldn't acknowledge the gesture at all. The expression on her face, in her eyes, had said that much. Pleased as she might be, she just couldn't afford to. Their working relationship would remain the same as it had always been- he didn't expect her to change her behaviour towards him because of one gesture. It would be completely contrary to her character. But her reaction when he'd presented her with the gift had been priceless. It was the sort of thing he could conjure up on bleak days and smile at.

Behind the partition, Martina waited before he was all the way out of the building before her smile stretched across her face.

It was impossible to know what to do with that man.

She shook her head.

'Next!'

I hope that will suffice. I've had this handwritten sincce about October but hadn't been bothered to get round to typing it. I have a longer Joetina fic in the works, I've written about eight chapters of it so far, but they need a bit of editing before they go up. It should be around within the month. And that one will have more than hints of Joey/Martina, I can assure you.

Until then, sunshines.