A/N: I meant to post this yesterday. Oops. Anyway, hope you enjoy my Christmas tribute to the Blake/Elizabeth dynamic. Reviews are always appreciated!

2:36 p.m., December 22

Elizabeth McCord and her team managed to prevent World War Three with North Korea and finish a trade deal with Malaysia before 3:00 p.m. It was nothing short of an early Christmas miracle. She took one last look around her office then gathered her things. As she put on her jacket, Blake popped his head into her office.

"I already called your detail. They're ready to take you home whenever you are," he informed her.

"Thank you, Blake. I'm heading down now," Elizabeth said. Her faithful assistant joined her in the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor. They quietly watched the floor numbers illuminate as they descended. "Do you have any plans for Christmas?"

"Not really, ma'am," Blake responded. Truth be told, he had no plans whatsoever. With such a demanding job, Blake's social life had taken a quite a blow. When he had spare time, which was a rare occurrence, he scrolled through Facebook to see what his friends were up to. Although he told himself that liking their updates was "keeping in touch," he hadn't seen, much less talked, to any of his friends outside of work since… He couldn't even remember when. Probably since he had taken the job. Blake was essentially alone. In college, his a cappella had become a family of sorts. During his senior year of college, they had thrown a huge Christmas party complete with stockings and a secret Santa gift exchange. It felt like home for a brief moment. But all good things are bound to end, so after graduation, they went in their separate directions. This year, anyone he tried to schedule something with was either visiting family or having fancy dinners with significant others. His friends sent him holiday cards that depicted their wondrous lives with their loving families. Instead of making him feel unforgotten and included, they usually just made him feel lonelier. As a result, all of the cards usually ended up piled in his wastebasket, some still in the envelope and unopened.

"Are you visiting family? Or is any family coming to visit you?" she asked in a cheery, conversational tone.

"No. No family," he said curtly. Elizabeth wasn't prying by any means, but family was a bit of a sensitive subject for him. His sister was busy raising her own family, so she was out. His parents were distant- both physically and emotionally- especially so after Blake refused to live in the house they had picked out for him and switch jobs, so visiting them was also out of the question. So here he was again. Completely alone for the holidays. Blake felt her eyes scanning his face, searching for a reason for his sudden change in demeanor.

"Blake?" Elizabeth gently touched his arm and looked into his eyes. He made a futile attempt to mask his sadness, but it was no match for her perceptive gaze. "I lost my parents when I was young. I know what it's like to have a silent Christmas. Nothing feels quite as lonely as watching everyone else be surrounded by love when there's no one loving you." She'd hit the nail on the head and struck a chord in his heart. Blake blinked furiously to prevent the tears burned at the corners of his eyes from falling. "Would you like to join me for Christmas?" Her voice was sweet, warm, and inviting. Motherly.

Join her for Christmas? Blake was speechless for a moment. When he remembered how to use words again, he stuttered, "Oh ma'am, thank you for the offer, but I couldn't. I wouldn't want to intrude on your family."

The elevator doors opened, and he started walking away briskly, fighting the urge to curl up on the floor of the State Department and start sobbing like a small child with the sudden influx of emotions in the past few minutes. Elizabeth quickly stepped in front of him and halted his not-so-smooth getaway.

"Okay, first of all you wouldn't intrude. You've dug through my closet more times than I can count. You've texted my husband about my health and whether or not I've had lunch. You've attended more school functions for my kids than I have. Please, just come over for dinner on Sunday. And drinks. And you can stay for dessert, if you like." Blake hesitated. She made a compelling argument. "Please, Blake. For me," she insisted.

"Okay," he acquiesced. "I'll be there. Thank you, ma'am."

6:14 p.m., December 24

Blake stood outside of the McCord residence but couldn't knock. He felt a strange sort of nervousness. Maybe not nervousness per say, but a strong sense of unease and awkwardness, as though he had been caught somewhere he shouldn't have been, his hand in a proverbial cookie jar. Part of him wanted to turn around and go straight back to his apartment and spend Christmas Eve and the following day with Netflix and a glass of wine. Another part of him wanted to walk to the nearest bar and drink until the headache of a lonely Christmas hurt less than the headache his hangover would bring. And yet, another (very small) part of him wanted to knock. That small fraction of his soul yearned to join the McCord family for the evening and pretend that he was a part of a loving family for this Christmas. Before Blake had the chance to make up his mind, fate decided for him. The door swung open, and he was greeted by a Henry McCord that was clearly in the Christmas spirit. He was sporting a green sweater with a snowman on it and topped off the look with a Santa hat.

"Blake! I didn't hear you knock, but the detail told me that you were here. It's great to see you," Henry greeted him enthusiastically.

"Good evening, Dr. McCord. It's very kind of you to let me join you and your family," Blake said awkwardly. Henry laughed at his overly formal tone.

"Henry will be just fine. Please, come in!" he said warmly. He took Blake's jacket and lead the young gentleman to the kitchen. There, they found the Secretary of State wearing antlers and a similarly holiday-themed sweater. Hers was red with a several reindeer on it. One even had a nose that blinked with a sewn-in light. The "Merry McCords" were certainly living up to their title.

"Blake!" She exclaimed and crossed the room to give him a friendly hug. "I'm so glad you could make it!" He felt flustered and found that his arms wouldn't cooperate to hug her back. Instead, he stood with his arms hanging limply at his sides as his boss wrapped her arms around him.

"Hello, it's good to see you, ma'am," he managed to spit out once she let go of him.

"Please, call me Elizabeth tonight. Could I get you some eggnog? Or perhaps a shot of whiskey if you aren't driving?"

"Eggnog sounds good Madam- I mean, Elizabeth." Her name felt foreign on his tongue, and yet he couldn't see her as anyone else in that moment. She wasn't negotiating with dictators or evading nuclear war; she was just Elizabeth in her kitchen wearing a ridiculous outfit. She poured the thick holiday beverage into a large mug and handed it to him. He took a gulp and let the sweet taste linger a moment before he swallowed. Henry and Elizabeth both smiled at him.

"Would it be alright if I played your piano?" Blake asked, needing to break the silence that was becoming a little awkward.

"Oh, yes please!" Henry said. "I missed you at the holiday party."

"Kids!" Elizabeth shouted in the direction of the living room. "Blake's going to serenade us!"

And so he did. It was a Christmas medley that everyone sang along to, tone-deafness and all, and it left all feeling a little bit more jolly than before.

10:44 p.m., December 24

After many plates of chow mein, several drinks, a rambunctious game of Scrabble (that Team Henry and Elizabeth had won, of course), Blake watched from his comfortable seat on the couch as Henry added the last few logs to the fireplace. He felt safe. He felt loved. It felt like home. His eyelids began to feel heavy, and he felt the scent of the pine tree and the crackling fire lulling him to sleep. There, curled up on the couch in the McCord living room, Blake sank into a deep, peaceful slumber.

11:52 p.m., December 24

"Is he asleep?" Henry whispered, gesturing to the young man on their couch.

"Yeah."

"Should we wake him?"

"No," Elizabeth answered. She grabbed the blanket that was folded over the back of a recliner and covered Blake's sleeping form. He looked so small and vulnerable. She knelt down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "When I asked about his family I could see the pain in his eyes. I didn't want him to be alone. I know how awful that can be. After my parents died, and before you, Christmas was always so…" Her voice trailed off.

"I know." Henry pulled his wife into a tight embrace, a wordless promise that her Christmases would never be spent alone as long as he were there. They held each other as the fire's still-smoldering cinders faded. Time was passing, but the moment felt timeless. There was something pure about the couple cuddling as they reveled in gratitude for each other and the life they built together. Their bubble of intimacy was interrupted by a soft snore came from the sleeping form on their couch. Henry chuckled softly and added, "Blake's a good kid."

"Yeah. I don't know what I'd do without him," Elizabeth said and gave a tender gaze towards the young man. Her husband placed a kiss on her forehead, and Elizabeth rested her head on his chest.

"Are the kids asleep?" Henry asked, breaking the silence. She smiled coyly.

"Yeah. Why, got any plans?" Elizabeth flirted, pecking the corner of his lips.

"One. Think of it as an early Christmas present," he growled and led her up the stairs to their bedroom.

12:24 a.m., December 25

Satisfied and exhausted, Elizabeth mumbled, "I love you. Merry Christmas." Henry draped an arm over her waist and snuggled with her under the covers.

"Merry Christmas, love."

8:07 a.m., December 25

"Good morning, sleepy head. Did you sleep well?" His boss's chipper voice roused Blake from a deep sleep. His eyes fluttered open, and he found himself wrapped in an unfamiliar blanket, lying on a couch that wasn't his own.

"Oh!" Blake quickly realized what had happened and sat up suddenly. He ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to look presentable. "Oh dear. Ma'am, I am so sorry. I must have fallen asleep." His cheeks were burning, embarrassed and horrified that he had overstayed his welcome and spent the night.

"Don't worry about it!" Elizabeth smiled and sat down on the couch next to him. She handed him a present with seasonal wrapping. "This is for you."

"Oh, ma'am… You shouldn't have," he said as took the parcel. He ran his hands over the wrapping paper when he was suddenly seized by another wave of panic. "I didn't get you anything. I'm so sorry, I just-"

"Stop, having you in my life is a gift enough. Think of this more as a thank you for everything you do for me. Go on, open it," Elizabeth encouraged. Blake felt uncomfortable under the kind gaze of her big blue eyes, but he began peeling the tape off anyway. After discarding the wrapping paper, he revealed a navy-blue sweater with white snowflakes. It was just like the ones the McCords had worn the night before. Tears began to well up in his eyes, and his bottom lip trembled.

"Oh, come on, it's not that ugly," Elizabeth said with a playful punch to his arm. She was right: It wasn't ugly; it was hideous. But it was perfect. When he didn't smile back, she dropped the joking tone of her voice. "Blake, if you don't like it, I can-"

"I love it," he whispered on the verge tears. "Thank you. Ma'am, this is the most thoughtful gift I've ever received."

"I'm glad you like it," Elizabeth said softly. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, willing him to open up about what was causing him to cry besides the sheer unsightliness of the garment. He took a shaky breath.

"Since I had that fight with my parents, we've been very distant. It's been very difficult to… It's just been difficult." Blake tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "You are all just so accepting of me and this means so much to me. Forgive me if I'm crossing a line, but when we're not working and you're just Elizabeth and not Secretary McCord, I can't help but to notice how kind you are and all I can think about is what a great mom you are and how my mother just-" he took a deep breath as he felt a tear run down his cheek. "Can I hug you?"

Elizabeth opened her arms to him. "Come here, baby." Baby. Blake fell into her embrace. He couldn't help the tears that fell from his eyes at her kindness. She massaged soothing circles into his back and cooed soft words of, "You're okay. I've got you," until all of his tears were spent. Pulling back a bit so that she could see his eyes, Elizabeth said, "Listen, your parents only want what's best for you, even if it doesn't feel that way. You're going to need to work through the fight you guys had, and I get that it's tough. Stevie and I went through a rough patch, so I know it's difficult on both ends. I will say this, though: If you ever need a bonus mom, or just someone to lean on, I'm here. I love you, Blake. You're like a son to me. Someday, you'll have a family of your own. But until then, and even after then, you are a part of mine. Understand?"

"Thank you."

"Merry Christmas, Blake."