AN: This is a wee bit of fluff written for the contest winner of my Shassie group over on deviantART (Shassie-FTW).
I couldn't believe they were doing this to me! How dare they keep me in the interrogation room without any lights? And on Christmas Eve, no less.
I didn't even get my phone call. Insert sad emoticon here.
Since it didn't look like anyone was going to come to my rescue (The door was locked. I already checked.), I dropped into the hard, stupid chair and crossed my arms on the table before laying my head on them. I closed my eyes, just to rest.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, the light is on and I hear the door unlock and open. I kept my eyes closed and breathing even so they'd think I was sleeping. I heard their footsteps stop in front of me. I was 75% certain it was Lassie. The other 25% was betting on Val Kilmer.
"Spencer." Oops, the 25% lost.
I opened an eye and smiled lazily. "Lassie." My favorite detective had his hands flat on the table and was leaning towards me.
And he was smirking. "Do you know why you're here?"
"I must be guilty of something."
"Do you know what?"
I thought back to my antics over the past few days. "Because I'm . . . delicious?"
"Yes, but that's not the crime I'm interested in at the moment."
I sat up a little, smile gone, as I stared at him wide-eyed. Did he just say what I thought he said?
"No, Spencer, you have something I want. You have my Christmas wish." He was still smirking, and his amazing blue eyes were sparkling with mischief. I swallowed audibly when I realized our faces were awfully close.
"Oh? And what's that?" I managed to ask in an even tone despite the fact my heart was racing and I wanted to bolt.
I saw Lassie shift his weight to his right hand and he pointed to the ceiling. I looked up, blinked in surprise, and back at him.
"Is that mistletoe?"
In answer, Lassie slid his hand behind my neck and kissed me.
"Merry Christmas, Shawn."