Author's Note: - I wrote this back in 2008 and published it on the HDA for one of their many story contests. I wanted to note that I did quite a lot of research for this story - and I hope you enjoy it. Christmas in March! :)

The Most Wonderful Thing

by Rokia

Chapter 1

"… Mister Green Christmas, I'm Mister Sun, I'm Mister Heat Blister, I'm Mister Hundred and One…

"…They call me Heat Miser, what ever I touch starts to melt in my clutch…I'm too much…"

The lyrics from the familiar song in "The Year Without a Santa Claus" sang out from the Hardy living room as Gertrude Hardy worked on polishing the crystal stemware they traditionally used on Christmas and she poked her head into the living room to see her younger nephew standing in front of the Christmas tree.

"Joseph Alexander Hardy, are you nine or nineteen? Quit shaking those presents young man!" Gertrude berated her blonde-haired, blue-eyed nephew. He looked quite boyish at the moment, more so than normal, dressed in blue and green striped flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers. A boyish smile graced his face as he shook the present in his hand and turned back to Gertrude.

"Good morning, Auntie." Joe's smile switched instantly to a grin as he set the present back under the large Christmas tree and crossed the living room to give Gertrude a kiss on the cheek. "Been up long?"

"Long enough to catch you up to no good." Gertrude swatted Joe playfully with her cleaning cloth. "Young hooligan. What time did you get home last night?"

"Almost one a.m.," Joe admitted with a yawn. "I would have been home earlier but Vanessa drove home with me instead of bringing her jeep and I had to take her out to the farm. Is Frank on his way home? He hasn't called me."

"Not yet." Gertrude turned to go back into the kitchen and put the glass she held away in the cabinet. "He plans to drop off Callie at the airport and wait with her until her plane departs. I really wish he would come home now; the snow is only going to get worse later this evening."

"He'll be fine, Auntie." Joe looked past her to spot the large plate of donuts sitting on the kitchen island. "Donuts!"

Joe grinned even more and bounced excitedly to the island. Four months away at the University of New York-Albany and he really missed his aunt's cooking. He swore, more than once, that the only purpose of the cafeteria on campus was to poison the students and he spent those months between breaks craving his aunt's muffins, chocolate cake and, yes, donuts.

"Manna," he said with a happy smile as he took a healthy bite of a donut. He chewed industriously and sighed with satisfaction.

"Joe!" he turned when he heard his mother's voice. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed Laura Hardy came over and wrapped her arms around her tall son, pulling him close and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He returned the hug and grinned as he stood back and studied her. She looked the same as always; fit and petite without a hint of gray in her hair.

"Hi, Mom," he said. "I missed you. You are looking good."

"You as well. Merry Christmas, son. I'm glad you're home safe."

"And starving." Joe turned his attention to the donut for a moment. He took a bite large enough to go to the hole in the middle and grinned as he wiped a glop of chocolate frosting off his nose. "You should see the glop they call breakfast at school. I never thought anyone could mess up a pancake – or bacon." Joe sucked on his finger and savored the fudgy chocolate.

"Poor baby." Laura patted his shoulder, blue eyes twinkling mischievously. "Let's feed the poor, starving boy up, Gertrude. He's wasting away before our eyes."

Joe shook his head morosely at the lack of compassion and sniffed playfully – just before snagging another donut and finishing it off in four bites.

"Awesome," he sighed as his aunt placed a large glass of milk in front of him. "Can I package you up and bring you back to school with me, Auntie?"

Gertrude snorted as she moved from polishing stemware to the plates just removed from their storages boxes. She rubbed her polishing cloth industriously along each plate and sat it atop a stack on the counter, ready to be put on the table the next day for their Christmas dinner.

"We have a surprise coming for Christmas." Laura leaned back against the island. "Something I think you'll like."

Joe looked up from his breakfast, eyes shining with curiosity. "Another present? What is it?"

"Nine," Gertrude muttered.

Joe grinned mischievously at his aunt.

"Uncle James is coming, young hooligan," Gertrude stated primly.

"Yes!" Joe cheered. "We haven't seen him since I was fifteen. He's back in the country again?"

Laura nodded. "Yes, he arrived back in the States last month and promised a Christmas visit. No doubt you and your brother might entice a story or two from him."

Joe grinned with satisfaction – and excitement. His Uncle James – really his great-uncle, the brother of his Grandfather Hardy, was a favorite relative. Uncle James was over eighty, maybe almost eighty-five and ran around like a man half his age. James had served in World War II and told awesome stories, both of the war and his many travels since the war. Even at his age, Uncle James traveled a lot as he consulted with various companies, taught or lectured at universities and colleges or took the time to learn something new from a never-before-visited country.

Uncle James visited rarely but when he did, the older man always had good stories to tell. Joe remembered tales from the front lines in the Battle of the Bulge and other stories from trips to see tribes in darkest Africa. When Joe was younger he often dreamed about doing what James did – traveling places, seeing new things – and then he got bit by the sleuthing bug.

"I can't wait to see him," Joe bounced again. "When's he coming?"

"Noon today, or thereabouts." Laura joined Gertrude in the polishing of the stemware and plates. "Almost enough time for you to unpack and get dressed."

"Awesome. I can't wait to see him. Too bad Frank won't be here until later; he'll miss out on the early stories!"

"You can always wait until he gets home before you start begging for stories," Laura commented dryly. "At least give your uncle time to settle in before you start begging. Anyway, Frank felt he should drop Callie off at the airport, since she won't be home over Christmas break."

"Callie wasn't thrilled to be having to go to Chicago over Christmas," Joe commented, remembering one of his last conversations with his brother. "I think she just wanted to spend her whole Christmas break at home, instead of at a cousin's house across the country. Frank said she fought with her parents for over a month about it before giving up."

Laura looked sympathetic. "I can't blame her, really. You don't get too many breaks from your studies. I do wish Frank went to a closer school but I understand his desire to attend Georgetown. Two and a half years later I should be used to it, right?"

Joe looked away for a moment. "I miss him. I hate that we're in different schools – but I couldn't hold him back when it was so important to him. We'll get to work together when we're done with school, after all. And he'll be graduated before we know it and me only a year later…"

"How often do you talk?" Laura asked curiously. "Weekly, at least?"

"Two or three times a week," Joe said. "Not often enough if you ask me."

"And how are your grades?" Gertrude asked from her polishing station.

"Good," Joe grinned. "A's and B's. I had the worst time with Calculus this year. I don't know how Frank manages to pull off straight A's in that class. I must have called him twenty-five times just with calculus questions."

Laura grinned. "You take after your father in that, my dear. He hates math too. He says if he can't add it, subtract it, multiply it or divide it, he doesn't want to deal with it."

"I knew someone in our family had some sense," Joe grinned as he polished off his last donut and finished his glass of milk. "I'd better go get dressed. I can't wait to see Uncle James again!"

Joe bounced back up the stairs.

=MOSTWONDERFULTHING=

"Wow, I hope we don't get snowed in." Callie Shaw peered out the window of the car at the swirling snow. "Or maybe I hope we do and I can just go home with you. It would be far more fun than Christmas at Jonah's house."

"Your mom would have a cow, you know that," Frank Hardy smiled at his girlfriend. She looked lovely today, dressed in a dark red sweater which he saw under her black cashmere coat. "I'm sure you'll get out before the snow gets too deep. This is winter, after all."

"Yeah," Callie sighed. "I just hate having to go to Chicago on one of my few breaks from school. I love seeing my family but…I guess I'm being selfish."

"If you were selfish you wouldn't be going at all," Frank chided her as he squeezed her gloved hand. "It'll be fine, honey."

Callie smiled at him and relaxed a little. She leaned over and put her head on his shoulder, as much as the seatbelt allowed and peered outside at the thick flakes that splattered on the windshield of the car. Frank rubbed her knee as he drove but mostly tried to pay attention more to the snow and the road than to Callie – much as he preferred otherwise.

"Your flight is probably more delayed than it was when we called." Looking at the snow he sighed with relief – the snow fell but nowhere near hard enough, at the moment, to cancel all flights. So far, the flight from Washington-Reagan to Chicago maintained a two hour delay – instead of leaving at a little before noon, it was due to leave a little before two p.m.

When they arrived at the airport the snow fell a little more steadily and they both feared Callie might not take off after all. Frank followed her to the check-in counter, rolling her suitcase for her, and stood with her. As he waited, he people-watched. Most travelers looked frazzled and anxious, some harassing the counter attendants, others just standing quietly or fiddling with their bags, listening to the usual holiday mayhem. He heard the strains of "I'll Be Home For Christmas" being played over the airport system and the occasional report about not leaving bags unattended.

"…late from Miami," the attendant was saying to Callie when Frank turned his attention back to her. "We're still hoping to get you out but right now the flight is running two hours late. We're having to play it by ear."

"Is there another flight I can take?" Callie asked anxiously.

"I'm afraid not. All flights leaving earlier have stand-by lists nearly twenty customers long already."

Callie sighed. "Okay, thanks for letting me know. Is there a place on this side of security we can wait?"

"There are several restaurants on this side of the security lines. You should probably go through security well before your flight is due to leave, however. When the plane arrives we'll be turning around swiftly to get you out."

Callie nodded. "Thank you."

Frank wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her gently. "It'll be okay. You'll get there."

Callie smiled back at him. "I know. Listen, do you want to go ahead and take off, get going? You shouldn't have to wait…"

"Baby, I am not going to leave until I know you're in the air. I'll call my mom and let her know I'm going to be later getting home. Come on, let's go find somewhere to eat lunch."

Callie took his hand and squeezed it.

"I love you, Frank Hardy." She leaned over and hugged him.

"I love you, Callie Shaw." Frank tilted forward and kissed her again.

=ENDOFCHAPTER=

Thanks for reading! Rokia