A Normal Christmas
by Tracy (Biancaheart@yahoo.com)

Rating: PG

Category:FF, UC

Spoilers: Season 3 I guess

Summary: Even people from Roswell can have a normal Christmas.

Disclaimer: Don't own Roswell. Don't claim to either.

Author's Note: To Allie, who gave me the idea for this one in the first place. Hope I did justice to your idea.



"I can't reach it" I struggle, trying to reach the top of the tree.

She laughs. "I'm not much taller."

"So what do we do about the tree?"

Liz laughs. "Actually go for a ladder."

After all these years, she still makes me smile.

"Ah, but that would be normal."

She puts down the ornament in her hand. With a coy smile on her face, she walks over and puts her arms around my neck. "Honey, the only thing I want is to be normal."

It's funny that we've actually found a somewhat working definition of normal. We live in a small house, two floors, four bedrooms, white picket fence and token dog. Liz works at a local biomedical research facility, and I sell real estate. Not too shabby for two people who lived sets of the most screwed up teenage years possible. We've found normal.

Roswell is behind us now, and I don't look back. I don't care to. We still call our parents, but we packed up all other ties and haven't even thought of unpacking them.

It is so nice to get up in the morning and not have to worry about what monsters or enemies will come out of the dark. It is so nice to be able to accept things at price value, and not have to search for the hidden alien connection in everything.

It's nice to be human.

I never thought I'd say that.

We look like the average couple, young, beautiful, and in love. I wonder that the Cransons would say if they knew that we have both died and come back? I wonder what Dr. Jones would say if I told him about fighting the FBI and other types of aliens? But they'll never know- the beauty of keeping secrets- the one thing my unconventional teenage years taught me. I'm like Fort Knox.

"And do you feel normal?" I ask, placing a kiss on her brow. What can I say? I love her.

"I'm in love." She says, staring up into my eyes. "With you. A feeling that is better than normal. I don't want to let it go. Ever."

"You won't have to. I'll keep you safe."

She kisses me quickly on the lips. "I know that. You've done that for years. You've always been there, whenever I needed you." She laughs. "And sometimes when I was convinced that I didn't. The most loyal person I know."

I hold her tightly, and brush her dark hair with my hand.

She's a treasure. I've known that since the minute I saw her. People laughed at me in elementary school, holding this hopeless crush. And then I actually got her. I got to hold her in my arms, and kiss her lips. And then I lost her- which hurt- more than I can say.

"Want an early Christmas present?" She says with a slight grin.

I laugh and catch what I think is an entendre. I gently pull her hand out of the living room and towards the bedroom.

"Not that kind of present, silly." She leans down under the tree and hands me a small white box.

I've never been able to keep from getting excited when I get a Christmas present. Call it the eternal child in me.

I push aside the tissue paper.

I hold my breath.

Inside is a small piece of fabric- a bib. It reads I LOVE MY DADDY.

My breath catches in my throat. This is….this is….big. This is amazing. This is wonderful.

I feel like every muscle in my face is smiling.

"Really?"

"Really." She affirms. "Merry Christmas, Kyle."