A/N: So, I decided to give you guys an early ChristmaHannuKwanzica gift. It should definitely be done before or by Christmas. It won't get in the way of any of my other stories. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex.

I couldn't contain my excitement as I slipped into our tiny apartment, clearing the boxes of decorations to create a path just as I heard the harsh curses of my girlfriend and her best-friends as they brought in our tree. She carried the stand ahead, holding it steady as they placed it in and secured it. I couldn't help a giggle as a cascade of needles fell on her head. She cursed us all as I moved to help remove some. Soon enough we were decorating our beautiful tree.

"Shit," Santana muttered as she stuck her thumb again. "Why do we need popcorn? We have lights."

I tsked and held her finger to lick the blood away, "The lights are for the doorways and counters. Besides, popcorn is a tradition."

"What tradition? You're Jewish," she sighed in exasperation, dropping the thread and next piece of popcorn onto her lap.

"You partake in Hanukkah so I partake in Christmas. It's our tradition," I corrected.

"Stop whining, you aren't untangling miles of stupid lights," Noah chastised as he and Mike sat, surrounded by long chords of lights.

"Why couldn't we just buy a fake tree and save the hassle for next year?" Santana demanded, taking up her task again.

I shook my head and stood up, searching through the boxes for the tree skirt, "It's not the same. It's just not Christmas without a real tree, I mean, don't you love the-"

"No," they answered in unison.

"The smell," I went on, glaring between them all.

"It smells like my car," Mike sighed, "I can buy you spray if that's what you're after."

"You always make me vacuum the needles," San groaned.

"It's a fire-hazard, which, I don't know if you realize this, isn't exactly what I want for Christmas," Noah supplied.

I huffed at them before picking up a small box, "I suppose if you're all so opposed to the more verdant decorations we won't need the mistletoe." I smirked victoriously as I walked into the bedroom, away from their annoyed glares.

}{

I moved around the tree, precisely placing the stringed popcorn on braches. Santana followed me lazily, sucking on a candy cane and serving about as much purpose as the box the decorations were stored in. If I'm really honest, this was sweet of her. She was making an effort that she wouldn't make for anyone else. Growing up, Christmas was a shallow holiday for her; another excuse for her parents to throw money at her in place of actual affection. Yes, she moaned and groaned at every task, tradition, and chore, but if she truly didn't want to she wouldn't do any of it.

Mike and Noah left once the lights were untangled and up, claiming they had chores of their own to finish. All I had to finish was the tree and once the popcorn was up Santana was mostly only up for "supervising." She watched as I flitted around the tree, placing small ornaments and candles. Those especially unnerved her so she'd never allow me to light them, but I still loved how they looked. She sat on the couch, boxes of candy canes on her lap, handing me a few she wasn't eating.

"Baby, come here," I called, not bother to hide my smile, at least not like the trinket behind my back.

"What now?" She sighed as she urged the boxes off of her lap and onto the couch before coming to my side.

I leaned up on my toes to kiss her cheek, enjoying the definition that always came to her dimples when I did that. I brought my hand forward, revealing the beautiful gold, rather, gold painted star. I'd found it at a second-hand shop and had to have it. I knew it was perfect when she stared at it as if it were Christmas morning itself. "I can't reach can you put it up for me?"

She looked up to me, just like she did our first time, asking if it was truly what I wanted.

I pressed it into her hands, watching proudly as she took it.

She still needed a chair to put it on top, but I knew how much it meant to her as she hopped down and pulled me in her arms so we both faced the tree. I felt her warm breath as she kissed and nuzzled my hair.

"It's perfect," I smiled up to the tree.

She nodded quietly as we stared in wonder at our tree for a few moments longer.

"It could be improved by some sort of illumination," I hummed silently, breaking the spell we were under.

"You aren't lighting the candles," she rolled her eyes before taking her place at the couch again.

"But,"

"Find your own apartment to burn down," she challenged.

}{

Prerecorded flames flickered across the television screen as the fake fire crackled and popped. With the heat turned up it was easy enough to imagine it was real. With the boxes stored and the cleaning done Santana and I were free to let the holiday overtake us. I rested with my head on her chest, a throw tugged well up to my shoulders. I traced gently patterns over her hip while similar ones were rubbed into my scalp. I loved the environment we'd created, especially as Santana hummed and sung gently for me; a familiar tune, far too risqué for my taste in carols but in Santana's case I could make an exception.

"Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring I don't mean a phone Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight," her smoky voice lulled, teasing me playfully with the lyrics.

"Would Santa be coming through the fire escape?" I teased.

She rolled her eyes but indulged me, "Only if he wants a taste of my bat."

I laughed, "One home run for your office softball game and you think you're A-Rod."

"Hey, you have to admit I'm pretty good," she defended. "Besides you act like Santa would could her, ignoring the lack of real milk and cookies," her voiced dropped and I already felt the blush forming on my cheeks, "He knows how you've been sleeping and he knows why you're awake."

"Santana!" I chided, "Must you destroy every innocent aspect of the holiday?"

She gave me a look which, really, I already knew her answer to that.

"Remember our first Christmas together?" Her tone was more relaxed as she asked.

I hummed and nodded at the memory, "The tree was tiny and you refused to help decorate"

"I came around," she laughed.

"You did," I smirked seductively at her.

She laughed louder, "And yet I'm the one corrupting the holiday."

"Trust me; you're a V.I.P. on the naughty list."

"Damn straight," she winked. "But you still made our tiny tree amazing."

"I know," I couldn't help the haughtiness from my voice.

"Just like you do every year," she sighed comfortably as she kissed my head.

We lay like that until Santana had to carry me to the room. I was curled into the warmth of our bed listening to the clicks, snaps, and footsteps that came with Santana busily shutting everything off. Slowly, our living room dimmed until all that was left was the glow from the faux fire residing in our television. I heard the crackling and popping for a while, it was the only sound. I imagined Santana standing before it, her eyes still locked on the tree. It only lasted until the television shut off and I heard each soft press of bare feet on the carpet and then the creaking of springs until my love was back in bed with me, her arms around me tightly.