Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS: New Orleans or its characters…
Author's Note: Remember how I claim to not like holiday-themed fics and then proceeded to write an epic Brody/LaSalle one last year? Well, guess what…
A Partridge in a Pear Tree
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Chris LaSalle had to admit he was a little bit nervous, standing on the front step, waiting for someone to answer the door. Well, not someone. Not just any person. But it wasn't like she was a stranger. Or someone who intimidated him.
Okay, okay. Merri Brody could be a right intimidating woman. And when he'd first met her, he had been quite impressed by her badass agent skills, her quirky-clever mind and her really rather attractive feminine features. But they were sort of friends now, weren't they? Members of Dwayne Pride's odd little family.
He shouldn't be feeling like a 16 year old calling on his date for prom.
Especially since things weren't like that between them. Sure, he'd found himself, um, looking more and more. There were any number of things to blame. The least of which was his loneliness. He spent too dang much time alone now. And so did she.
That's why he was there. That's why-
The door opened, revealing the dark-haired woman wearing a pair of black yoga pants, a green tank-top, a gray hoodie, and a confused expression.
"LaSalle? What are you doing here?" she asked. "Did something happen? Damn. I turned my phone off."
She turned back into the guest house that was her permanent residence, picking up a shoe off the floor and searching around for another one.
"Is it a case? Or-" She stopped, straightened turned to face him once more, alarm widening her big brown eyes. "Is it Pride? Loretta? Patton? Percy? Sebastian? His cranberry sauce experiment exploded didn't it?!"
"No! No. I...um..." He felt himself blushing in embarrassment. Why'd he ever let slip to his family his worry about his team mate's holiday blues? Why'd he let them talk him into this? He brandished the bottle he held in his hand. "Brought ya summa Aunt Bernice's Pear Wine."
The generally unflappable woman really looked bemused. He noticed her pretty eyes were rimmed with red, the skin of her cheeks pink and raw but not wet. She'd been crying. But he hadn't interrupted her at it.
"Ken I come in?" he asked, flashing her his charming smile and stepping into the main living space in the cute little guest house, closing the door behind him. "Rule of Aunt Bernice's. Can't be drunk alone."
By the time he turned back, Brody had her unreadable face on. And it really wasn't an unpleasant one. Unlike those who were amateurs about their masks, it wasn't a broody 'back off' one. Rather, it was designed to look like an unbiased sort of genial expression.
Chris wasn't gonna have any of it.
He knew she was upset. Alone on Christmas. No fricken way she wasn't feeling abandoned and alone. Her parents running off to the Caribbean for the holiday, leavin' their daughter no home to go ta. And her sister's death being dragged up a few months ago, with still no answers. He knew she'd been thinking about Emily. He knew all too well what it was like to be dwelling on the sibling missing from your life when you should be making merry with 'em. Christmas was hell when you were missing family.
But he'd said it to her before. And he'd prove it her now. They weren't just a team of federal agents. They were family.
Apparently, the resolve was apparent in his own expression, for she frowned, sighed, and headed for the kitchen, trailing him behind.
"I thought you were spending Christmas with your family," she said, fetching two wine glasses out of a convenient cupboard. He knew she was a wine-drinker, so it should be no surprise they were readily on hand. His own 'fine' glassware collection was accumulating dust. Especially since... since there was no woman to entertain. Savannah had actually moved two of the mix-matched stemware collection to a lower shelf so she no longer had to climb up on the counter to dig them out. But he'd put them back.
"I am spendin' Christmas wi' my family," he said, giving his friend an affectionate look.
Merri Brody was a good woman. And a good friend. He didn't want to see her alone and sad.
A/N: Traditionally, Twelvetide (The 12 Days of Christmas) begin on the 25th and last through January 5th, which I've chosen to follow here. Nothing else about this is traditional or religious-oriented.
A/N2: Obviously not completely canon-compliant (skipping the events of the Christmas episode because it was a little too cheesy even for me), but incorporating major series events.