[A/N: The characters and settings contained within this fanfic are the property of Mike Mignola, Dark Horse Entertainment, Guillermo del Toro and Revolution Studios. Sit back, relax, and enjoy.]

And On Earth, Peace...

The weather in late December had turned to a mixture of dreary and gray. What snow had fallen was already slush, mixed with asphalt and mud to form a mottled ice pudding that lined the streets. Trees were bare and skeletal for the most part, save the evergreens that had been put up in Central Park and outside Rockefeller Center. Downtown New York was, for the most part, highly festive, or at least as well as could be managed under the bad weather. Sadly, as one got further out of the city the Christmas spirit became less and less evident, particularly when one reached the outskirts of Newark. The most one could hope to see in those neighborhoods would be a string of bubble lights wrapped around a patio railing, or perhaps the odd scruffy tree barely visible behind a living room window.

Many of the agents of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense had gone home for the holidays; with the recent crisis in Russia averted, a calm seemed to have settled over the city. There were no alerts of manifestations or attractions, and the general consensus was that things would be quiet for a while. Some of the agents had large families waiting for them at home, likely to be brimming with questions about their work- questions which would go unanswered for some. Others had smaller families, perhaps just parents or a neighboring uncle or aunt. And then there were those who had nobody but each other. They were the ones who remained at the Bureau. For some, it was the first time. For others, it was routine.

For a select few, it was home.

A grunt of exasperation followed the sound of a Makita cordless grinder coughing its last gasps. "Piece o' crap," Hellboy muttered as he tossed the tool off to one side of the room. He peered at himself in the mirror, running a finger along the freshly ground stubs of his horns. "Well, least it lasted long enough for one final trim." He ran his left hand back along his scalp, then along his sideburns. "Hey-hey, there. Lookin' pretty sharp for sixty," he drawled before turning and plodding across the room. He had to sidestep to avoid Gerald, his six-year-old gray tabby who made it a point to be consistently underfoot. "Watch out there, buddy; you ain't careful, someone's liable to turn you into a feline 'pamcake'," he chortled.

Almost as soon as he said it, his eyes clouded over and he sat down heavily on his bed.

Pamcakes... Must've called them that since I was two, the red demon thought to himself. Father didn't even bother to correct me. The military guys did... but not Father. He just called them pamcakes, too...

Gerald looked up, letting out a curious meow as he did so. Hellboy sighed heavily, tapping the edge of the pickup truck bed with his stone hand. He leaned back slightly, casting a glance at the palm of his left hand. The burn mark had almost gone, but there was still the semblance of a cruciform welt on it.

He had that rosary with him ever since I first knew him... hardly ever took it off.

He told me its meaning when I was three. Even let me hold it. It never burned me before...

He closed his left hand and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I miss you, Pop," he muttered. "We all miss you... hell, I think even Manning misses you." Slowly he got up and made his way to the other side of the room, where a book was lying open on his desk. With a quick flick of the wrist, he opened a drawer and took out a cigar before turning a page in the large tome before him. He flipped the cigar into his mouth and reached for his lighter, but when he attempted to light up, the lighter wouldn't kick in. He tried several times, but no light.

"Great," he mumbled. "One more thing that isn't working... and I'm outta Manning's matches, too."

"Need a little help, stranger?"

Hellboy blinked as a female hand slid into view before him, a blue flame dancing on the tip of the index finger. He looked up and grinned at Liz, who stood there in an oversized burgundy sweater with a smile on her face.

"Ah have always depended on the kindness of strangers," he replied with a fake Southern drawl and a smirk as he accepted the light she was offering. "I didn't even hear you come in."

"The door was open; I just wanted to make sure you didn't miss the party."

Hellboy nodded. "Little early in the day for the company Christmas party, isn't it?"

"Little early for a smoke break, isn't it?" Liz replied.

"Touche," Hellboy said with a chuckle. He turned back to the book and his smile faded slightly.

"Actually, I was just going through some old memories," he said. Liz peered over his shoulder and noticed the book was filled with old articles, photographs and the occasional piece of parchment. "This was one of Pop's scrapbooks. I don't think the guy ever threw anything away." He turned the page and paused, his fingers lingering on a faded Polaroid.

There was a man in a pinstripe suit- government type, it looked like- on the left. On the right side of the picture was Hellboy. In between them was a younger, yet graying, Professor Bruttenholm. Each of them was holding a glass of something, and they were all smiling.

In faded ink on the bottom of the Polaroid was written, 'Xmas Party 1975.'

"He had at least one of these from every BPRD holiday gathering ever since the Bureau was formed," Hellboy said. There was a slight catch in his voice; he sighed heavily and blinked a few times. "I was hoping he'd stick around long enough for one more at least..."

Liz put her arms around his neck, hugging him from behind. A lone tear ran down her face. "I know it hurts," she said softly. "I never met a kinder man than him... in a way, he was a father to all of us." Hellboy nodded, resting his left hand lightly on her arm.

"He didn't want me to worry about him, you know," he said. "I knew he didn't have much time left, Liz. I knew he was sick..." He shifted in his chair and looked up at her. "I figured he didn't tell me because he thought it would rattle me or something, so I didn't say anything." A sigh, and then a grin. "I guess that's why I gave Myers such a hard time his first day."

Liz smiled. "And here I thought it was just your usual charm at work," she said, hugging him a bit tighter.

"So... you going to sit in here all day, or join the rest of us?" She stood up straighter, resting a hand gently on his shoulder. "I don't think he'd want you to miss out on it."

Hellboy nodded. "Yeah... yeah, you're right. Can't lock myself up on a day like this," he said, standing up and stretching. Just then a voice echoed through the room on the Bureau loudspeaker.

"Attention, please. All onsite Bureau personnel remaining for the holidays will report directly to the reception area for the duration of the eggnog." Liz rolled her eyes and Hellboy chuckled before the voice added, "And by the way, Merry Christmas, everybody."

"I figured our Boy Scout might do something like that," Hellboy said with a huge grin on his face. "Just can't help doing that little bit extra." He looked down at Liz and offered his left hand. "Shall we go see who else is out there?"

"Sounds like fun," she replied as she slipped her hand into his. The two of them sidestepped around Gerald and two other cats, making their way across the room and towards the security door which was being locked less and less often these days. Somehow Manning had been talked into relaxing the rules on that subject, and didn't seem quite as adamant on locking H.B. up as he had been in the past. Might have Myers to thank for that, too... the red demon pondered to himself just as he felt a tug on his arm. "Huh? What's up, Liz?" he asked, turning around. She had stopped underneath the door's steel archway with an odd smirk on her face.

"Look up, Red," she said softly, casting her eyes upward. A confused air crossed his face, but he shrugged and did so- and then blinked twice. "I... oh, this takes the cake," he said with a grin.

Someone had stuck a sprig of mistletoe on his doorway, red ribbon and all.

"This your idea?" he asked, pointing up. She shrugged, letting her raven-colored hair fall over one eye and smiling coyly. "Maybe... it is a holiday tradition, after all..."

"Well, far be it for me to break with tradition," he replied, brushing her hair aside with his left hand. The two wrapped their arms around each other as they shared a tender kiss, reminiscent of the one they had shared a month previously. This time, however, there were no flames, no crisis, just the two of them in each other's arms.

Then the loudspeaker blared again. "Attention. All personnel please report to the reception area. Red, Sparky, that means you too."

The two of them broke their embrace, each wearing an exasperated look. "Guess we'd better make our entrance," Hellboy muttered with a smirk.

"Leave it to him to ruin the moment," Liz replied sarcastically. "Well, let's get going."

"Hey, Liz..."

"Yeah?"

"Merry Christmas."

She smiled and gripped his hand tighter. "Merry Christmas, Red."

The party was well underway by the time Hellboy and "Ms. Sherman", as Manning still called her, made their entrance. It was a very small affair, as only a few people besides the residents of the Bureau had stayed for the holiday. Light orchestral music played in the background, typical holiday music that everyone recognized. Several office staffers were gathered by the refreshment table chatting about the rumored reorganizations that were scheduled for after the New Year; what with the losses sustained from Rasputin's machinations, there were likely to be some new faces at the BPRD come January. Two of the desk jockeys were talking about putting in for field assignments, the third one hoped to remain firmly where he was.

Across the room, Agent Myers and Abe Sapien were having a discussion over a glass of eggnog. Or, more appropriately, Abe was discussing things while Myers stood and nodded, trying to take it all in.

"It amazes me, John, how so many people view this day as the legitimate day that Christ was born over two thousand years ago," Abe was saying. "Given the records we have at hand, it's actually rather difficult to pin an exact date on it, and even then it wasn't this late in the year. The whole tradition actually stems from an ancient Roman festival held at this time, which was later incorporated into..." Myers didn't say anything, but nodded and sipped his drink.

"Hey there, Abe," said Hellboy as he approached the two of them. "Good to see you out of the tank again. John, how ya doing," he added, patting Myers on the shoulder a tad roughly. "You ain't bored to tears yet, are ya?"

Myers blinked and smiled nervously. "I'm doing fine, H.B., and actually I'm quite fascinated by this."

Abe looked at the red demon and smirked. "He's being polite, of course, but I am grateful to be able to share my views with him."

"Hey, you're not pulling that psychic crap on him to see if he's bored or not, are ya?"

Abe shrugged, still smiling. "Nothing to do with being psychic. He's like you, Red- easy to read." Myers shifted uncomfortably and sipped his drink just as Liz joined the group with a cup of black coffee.

"So... um, is anyone else coming down to join us?" he asked, hoping to shift the subject.

"Sadly, no," Abe replied. "This time of the year, this is about as good as it gets. A few agents, and of course the resident oddballs." His large black eyes scanned the room. "Of course, it is a bit different this time, given that Dr. Manning almost never comes to this party."

Manning stood at one side of the room, in a charcoal gray suit with a red vest, holding a cup of punch. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eventually wandering over to the other desk agents and attempting to engage them in conversation. These attempts were as awkward as they were unsuccessful, and usually focused on office politics for a few minutes before the conversation broke off. He looked like he would rather be somewhere else, yet at the same time, trying to fit in.

"Think I'll see what's on his mind," Hellboy muttered to the others before walking over to the brooding Manning. The others nodded, then resumed their conversation as Abe began detailing the documented miracles- and little-known paranormal aspects- of Saint Nicholas.

"Heya boss, why so glum?"

Manning turned and sighed. "I... holidays just aren't me. I never have time for them, I'm almost always too busy with other things." He took a swig of his drink. "And when I do have the time, it seems like I always wind up surrounded by... well..."

"Freaks?"

"Yes, no matter where I am, I'm dealing with freaks." He blinked a few times and looked up. "Uh... no offense intended."

"Relax, Manning, it's the holidays. I think I can let it slide," Hellboy replied with a smirk. "For now, anyway," he added, which caused Manning's eyes to bug out a bit.

"So why don't you go someplace else, spend time with family? Or friends? You gotta have someone outside this place, right?"

Manning shook his head. "I don't really have much family these days. My only brother lives in Seattle, and we almost never talk. Married twice, neither time worked out. No children. All I really have is my work." He took a cigar and a cutter out of his inside jacket pocket, then procured a matchbox.

"I've spent the last eighteen years as head of operations of the BPRD, Hellboy. That's a lot of time to be sweeping the truth under the rug. A long time to be cleaning up some of the messes you've gotten yourself into."

Hellboy produced a cigar of his own, nodding as he did so. "You know some of that couldn't be helped, Manning. I did what I had to do."

"I know, I know," was the reply. Manning struck a match, lighting up his cigar and then offering the match to the red giant next to him. Hellboy shrugged, accepting the light.

"Look... I know we haven't gotten along well in the past, and I know I've made no secret that I've always been hesitant about working with the paranormal."

"That's a relief, Manning; I thought you just didn't like us."

A small smile emerged on Manning's face. "What I mean is, I'd like to try and call a truce. With everything that went down recently, we'll probably wind up working together a lot more- and I'd rather we not be on opposite sides of the coin. We may not always see eye to eye..."

"That's a given, I'm taller than you anyway."

"...Still, you did save my ass back in Russia. I don't think I thanked you for that."

Hellboy smiled. "Anytime, boss, anytime." He offered his left hand, which Manning took- hesitantly at first, then gripping in a firm handshake. "Welcome to the family, Manning."

Manning smiled sarcastically. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Guess you'll have to find that out for yourself."

"Okay everybody, time to find out what's under the tree."

Five people were gathered in the massive Victorian study, where a modest Christmas tree had been placed near one of the statues. The desk jockeys had let the early part of the party run its course, and had since departed; this was something for the regular residents only. Even as last-minute as it was, it was the closest some of them would ever get to an intimate Noel with family. Myers had thought the whole thing up, and even with the groans of exasperation(Manning) and the doubts it could be put together so soon after the recent crisis(Liz), somehow he had pulled it off.

Of course, he hadn't done it alone. The others had done their own part, finding ways to do some express last-minute shopping either online or over the phone. Everyone had hoped their orders would arrive in time, and most of them had ordered Abe not to 'mind peep' and find out what they were getting.

Manning went first, hesitantly. He was pleasantly surprised by what he got- a gold-plated pen set from Abe, with the BPRD logo and his name engraved on the case. A digital mountaineering watch with a GPS function from Myers. "So you don't get lost on your way to work," Hellboy had quipped. A red silk tie from Liz. And a combination cigar cutter/match case, plated in gold, from the red one himself. "I... I don't know what to say," he mumbled, a smile on his face. "Thank you all... thank you very much."

"You're most welcome, sir," Abe replied with a light bow.

Myers was next in line. His was something of a mixed bag. A copy of Tolstoy's greatest works from Abe. "An old and trusted favorite of mine, which I hope you will enjoy." A pair of heavy-duty winter gloves from Liz. A Virgin Records gift certificate from Manning. And finally, a set of rosary beads with an ivory crucifix on one end and the BPRD medallion on the other. "It saved me from falling into the dark; who knows, it might come in handy" said Hellboy . Myers smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.

Next came Liz. She took time opening her gifts, one at a time. She, too, got a Virgin Records gift card from Manning, eliciting groans from the others and a clueless "What?" from Manning. Abe's gift was a book of paintings by George Tooker, one of her favorites. Myers got her a simple gray knit scarf. But what really took her breath away was the final package, containing an ornate silver necklace of Victorian design, with a modest engraved locket decorated with two rubies.

"I'd wanted to give it to you a while back, since I know how much you like antique jewelry..." Hellboy muttered awkwardly. Liz didn't say anything, but smiled broadly and put her arms around his neck, kissing him on the top of his head. Though hardly noticeable, Hellboy actually blushed.

Abe elected to go next, promising with a laugh that he wasn't reading anyone's mind. First was a collection of classical music on CD, including several operas by Wagner, from Liz. This was followed up by a waterproof CD player complete with a set of headphones designed for scuba diving enthusiasts; the card said it was from, "Guess who?" Abe shot Hellboy a glance and smirked as he and Liz shrugged. Myers' gift was an anthology of Shakespeare in four volumes, plus a card promising to act as page-turner on request. Manning's gift was a surprise- a new set of goggles with selective light-filter lenses and a lighter-weight construction than Abe's old set. "The boys in R & D just finished working out the kinks in them, so I figured now was as good a time as any," he said with a hint of a smile.

"I... I'm overwhelmed," Abe said as he tried them on. "Thank you very much, sir."

"Guess I'm the only one left," said Hellboy as he got up. The first package he opened was from Myers and fairly bulky, though not terribly heavy. As soon as he tore the wrapping off, he blinked and then grinned at Myers. "Figured me out already, Johnny?" he said as he extracted the contents- a wholesale case of Baby Ruth candy bars.

"With his appetite, that box should last just under a week," Manning quipped, eliciting laughs from everyone else.

Next was Abe's gift, the latest and toughest cordless grinder on the market, complete with two extra batteries. "It sounded like your old one was on its last gears," he said, to which the red demon nodded and smiled. "It should last you for several years or several thousand filings, whichever comes first."

Liz's package came next; it was slightly smaller than the box the grinder came in, with a certain amount of heft to it. Inside was a DVD anthology of The Best of the Marx Brothers. He grinned even wider when he saw that, and promptly waved his cigar and did what Abe would describe later as "the silliest Groucho impression I've ever seen." After the laughs died down, Hellboy picked up the last remaining package with his name, which was little more than a slim envelope. "Don't tell me, Manning. Music store gift card?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Open it and see," Manning replied.

With a shrug, he tore the envelope open using his oversized right index finger as a letter opener. Peering inside, he didn't see any gift card, just a piece of paper. With a flick of the wrist, he took the paper out and opened it up... and then his eyes went wide.

"This is to confirm that the BPRD agent known as 'Hellboy' will be permitted to leave the Agency grounds on a biweekly basis, on the condition that A: he conduct himself in a professional manner and remain relatively unnoticed by the general populace, and B: one other agent accompanies him, preferably one with whom he is on good terms and can be seen without arousing suspicion." He looked up. "Manning, is this for real?"

"Remember, either of those rules get broken and we may have to amend it," he replied. "I thought we might give it a trial run, see if it works out."

"So instead of half a dozen people taking me out, it'll be just one?" the big red man said. "Who?"

"Why don't you ask the agent who pushed me to draft that," Manning said with a wave of his hand. Hellboy glanced up, noticing the broad smile on Liz' face. "I must say, she was quite adamant."

There wasn't anything Hellboy could do at the moment but shake his head in amazement. "I used to be lucky to get out once every other month..." he said in a low voice. "I... I don't know what to say."

"Merry Christmas, big guy," said Myers, raising his glass.

"Merry Christmas, everyone," Abe added.

"I'll second that," said Hellboy, standing up and picking up his own glass. "You know, I ain't much for mushy stuff but... ah, the hell with it. I love you guys."

A light snow had begun to fall as the moon rose over the New York skyline.

Two figures sat at the edge of a secluded park, their arms around each other. One was quite large, the other comparatively small and frail.

"Thank you, Liz," the big man said. "This is one of the best presents I've ever received."

"I knew you'd like it, Red," she replied. "I know how much you hate being locked up, and I also know Professor Broom felt the same."

Hellboy nodded. "I bet Manning kicked and screamed before he drafted that pass."

"Not as much as I did to get him to draft it," she said.

For a few moments, they sat together in silence.

"I wish Pop was here to see us."

Liz drew closer to him, letting him drape his massive duster over her form.

"He is, Red. I know he is."

The snow began to fall a little faster, blanketing the ground and the leftover slush with a coating of pure white. A half-moon was rising in the distance, and for a few moments things seemed to stand still. There were no spirits or warlocks to fight, no ghosts to be exorcised. For those few brief moments, all the world seemed to be at peace. The lovers' troubles could wait another day; for now, anxieties stepped back and allowed themselves to be covered over, just as the snow covered everything around them.

And somewhere in a realm few know of, Trevor 'Broom' Bruttenholm was smiling.