A/N: Of course I had to do a Christmas special! I hope you enjoy, it's a bit last-minute I'm afraid, but I hope you like it anyway :) Merry Christmas!

Christmas Snow And Mistletoe

The sky was dark, casting a blanket of shadow across Balfonheim. The streets were deserted, with everyone tucked away in their cosy homes, snuggled in front of blazing fires with mugs of hot cocoa, excitement in the air as they waited impatiently for their bed times so that they could go to sleep and wake up to Christmas morning. A peaceful magic flowed between the stone buildings, giving the whole city a sense of joy and wonder; a mysterious beauty that could be neither seen nor described, but was present.

Fran stood just outside the aerodrome, gazing at the port, loving the feel of the chilly, salty air caressing her skin. A light breeze caught her silver hair, brushing it gently off her back. Even though she'd never really celebrated Christmas, she loved the atmosphere it created. She could taste it on her lips, feel it in her blood. She stared at the cloudy skies, silently waiting for it to snow.

She heard footsteps behind her and recognised them as Balthier's. He came to a stop just behind her, so that she could feel the heat of his body and see his breath forming translucent puffs of fine mist in the biting frostiness of the December air. For a moment she forgot to breathe; his warmth against the cold made her shiver. It had been eight years since they met, and still she hadn't managed to overcome her slight crush on him. Sometimes she tried to convince herself she merely admired him; other times, she accepted that it was more than just admiration and friendly affection she felt for him. They stood in complete silence. Then Fran gave a twitch of her left ear, and Balthier took this as a signal to announce his presence.

"Rather too cold to be out tonight, isn't it?"

"It soothes me," she explained, "I am waiting for the snow."

He took a few steps forward so that she could now see him. "I can barely even remember the last time it snowed anywhere other than the Paramina Rift. I always thought it was avoiding me like the plague."

"Woe is you."

He half-turned to look at her, a slight smile creeping across his face. "Do you mock me, Fran?"

"Perhaps a little."

His smile widened. "You're lucky I find your skills so useful, otherwise I might not allow you back aboard the Strahl and leave you to catch your death out here."

"It bothers me not," She said, "I enjoy the touch of winter's air."

He chuckled. "You never cease to amaze me, Fran," he commented. He turned his gaze to the sky. "It certainly looks as if it may snow."

"It will. I can taste it on the breeze." She too looked at the sky. "It shall fall at any moment."

He sighed, still smiling. "Those senses of yours almost make me wish that I too was born viera."

Fran turned to look at him and imagined him with a pair of viera ears. The thought was enough to make her let out a small laugh.

"Something amuse you?" He asked, his eyes on her once again.

"It is nothing," she answered, although the smile did not fade from her face.

"The possibility of it being nothing is remarkably slim, considering that I could probably count the number of times you've laughed this year on one hand."

"Though slight a chance it may be, it is still a possibility."

He scoffed and shook his head, but didn't say anything more.

And that was when Fran felt the first snowflake, gently kissing her skin with its cold, tender touch. More followed it shortly after, and soon the sky was full of whirling white flakes of soft snow.

"Looks like you were right," Balthier commented, watching the snowflakes as they fell. "Quite magical, wouldn't you agree?"

"Most certainly," she answered, somewhat breathily as she too watched the snowflakes spiralling down to the stone streets of Balfonheim.

"Care for a walk?"

She turned to Balthier to see he was offering her his arm. With a slight smile, she took it, and the pair of them strolled down the boardwalk and into the town.

She loved being this close to him. He was so perfectly warm, a beautiful contrast to the icy cold around them, and the pressure he exerted on her arm was just right, not crushing, but making her feel close to him. She felt her cheeks turn slightly pink; a reaction that had nothing to do with the cold. She wondered what it would feel like to rest her head on his shoulder. She silently cursed her height and long ears, making such a fantasy an impossible reality.

As they strolled, they chatted the way close friends and work companions normally did, throwing around light-hearted banter dressed up in extravagant phrases. The snow began to fall thicker, covering the whole world in a gentle whirlwind of white.

"We should haste back to the Strahl," Balthier said, "At this rate, it'll turn to a blizzard soon enough."

The cold was beginning to sting now, turning Fran's fingers and toes numb, so she agreed. They walked back through Balfonheim, still exchanging light-hearted banter in between other discussions.

"No better way to spend Christmas Eve," Balthier commented as they walked down the street that lead to the boardwalk and the aerodrome, "Have I ever mentioned that I rather enjoy your company?"

"I assumed it so, considering you continue to allow me aboard your airship," she answered.

"I thought we agreed that I only keep you for your skills."

"We both know you are lying about this."

"I believe you know me too well."

"I know you as well as any partner should," she commented.

They walked on for a little in silence. She could feel the slippery wooden planks of the boardwalk leading to the aerodrome beneath her feet now and gripped Balthier harder for extra support; no matter how expert her balance was, stilettos and ice were never a good combination.

They continued on in silence once more, until they came to the archway of the aerodrome.

"Seriously though, Fran. I genuinely enjoy your company."

"I am glad to hear this," she stated, her cool voice disguising her racing heart. After all these years of his casual flirting, she still felt giddy whenever he paid her a compliment.

"Fran, you're shivering," he said.

"One should expect it in such weather," she answered.

"I'm afraid that regardless of the weather, I cannot have my leading lady in any form of discomfort. Come here."

He unhooked his arm from hers smoothly and gently pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. She found herself winding her own arms around his shoulders. She felt his breath warm against her neck, and it sent another shiver down her spine.

"Well, fancy that…"

Fran turned to look at him, to see he was gazing at the ceiling. She too looked up to see what he was staring at.

Mistletoe.

"You know the tradition, do you not?" He asked softly.

She nodded, her eyes on him now. There was something in his eyes; something that looked like longing.

Their faces draw closer together, so close that they were scarcely millimetres apart. Balthier brushed his nose against hers softly.

"We could ignore tradition if you'd prefer," he told her in a barely audible voice. Now his breath was hot on her lips, making her shudder yet again.

"This is pleasant," she answered, also quietly.

She could almost feel him smiling. Then slowly he closed the gap between their lips.

It was like being struck by lightening and filled with warmth at the same time. His lips felt so tender and warm against hers, and she knew at that moment he had wanted a moment like this for as long as she had. At first she did not open their eyes as they pulled apart. Then she felt a hand gently caressing her cheek, and opened her eyes to see Balthier smiling.

"Merry Christmas, Fran."