Rating: About as innocuous as it gets
Disclaimer: Yeah right; wanna buy a bridge?
Word Count: 400
Summary: Cameron, Chase & Foreman exchange Christmas gifts
Written a while ago, posted because I forgot earlier & to cheer JenButterfly up! Comments always welcome!

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It's The Thought That Counts

It was one of her favorite times of the year. She loved the giving and receiving of presents, the whole ritual of planning and selecting, of wrapping and delivering. She put a lot of thought into what she chose, and hoped that anyone who sent a gift for her did the same.

And so of course, a few days before Christmas, she'd plonked small boxes down on the conference room table in front of them both.

"Didn't expect."
"You shouldn't have."
"Bring yours by on Friday. From us both," promised Foreman.
"Hmph," grunted Chase, arms crossed over his body.

For Chase, a fancy steel pen, more professional than those awful plastic ones he used.

"What was she thinking? You'll break your teeth."
"Maybe that was the point?"

For Foreman, a CD by his favorite blues singer.

"Blue-eyed soul from North London? I told her Koko Taylor. From Chicago."
"Lewis Taylor, "Stoned" – this is the one with "Lovelight" on it. Wanna swap?"
"You gonna tell her?"
"I'm not an idiot."

The pleasure of wondering how much time it had taken to pick her gift, how much the giver had thought about what she might like, trying to select something that she would cherish.

"Piece of jewelry."
"Bad idea."
"Always works with the girlfriends, Chase."
"I bet. Way too personal. She'll get ideas."
"Don't you mean you've got ideas?"
"We've already had this conversation. Not again."
"Fine, self-help books, she loves those."
"She's already got a copy of "Getting to Yes.""
"I was thinking more like "How to Win Friends and Influence People.""

Then the anticipation of what was in the gaily-wrapped boxes and packages she received, finally the pleasure of actually opening each one.

"Hand cooler."
"What?"
"You know, Foreman, crystal thing, like a paperweight."
"Seriously, to cool hands?"
"Yeah. Doctor's hands are supposed to be cold plus it'll look nice on her desk."
"So it's personal."
"Not too much."
"Genius. She'll love it."
"Hmph. Thank God."

Foreman had received a hug; Chase, a rare smile and polite thank you – she knew from experience he didn't do hugs. All promptly followed by elegant cards detailing her gratitude.

"Unbelievable, she wants thank you notes as well?"
"Sod that," Chase muttered around the coffee stirrer his mouth was mangling.
"Hmm," Foreman grinned back. "I thought the correct term was bollocks?!"