Author Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS to everyone! Whether you're spending time celebrating something, or not, I wish you happiness and good health. This is my Christmas gift to you all. Thank you so much for all of your comments, favourites, follows and general support over the last year. I know I've been a little less motivated recently, but I am still trying to write and get chapters out. They're just taking a little longer. But I really wanted to write this one, something fun and carefree for Christmastime.
"You never believed in Santa?" Jane asked, crouching down beside the body.
Maura frowned and shrugged. It seemed somehow impertinent to be discussing such a matter over the body of a man who dedicated his life to emulating the festive being. "What can I say? My parents were too busy. My father is a scientist. By the age of four I could already see how implausible it was."
"But, he's Santa!" Jane said, pointing to a dark hair visible on the man's lapel.
She reached across the body and plucked it from his suit, carefully storing it in a plastic evidence bag. "And?"
"And every kid should get to believe in Santa."
"Why?"
"Why? Maura!"
"That isn't a reasonable response to the question."
"Why not?"
"Because it isn't." She shook her head. "Can we please give this man the respect he deserves?"
It really wasn't the time, nor the place, and she wasn't going to continue the conversation over the man's corpse. She ignored Jane's protests as she made her initial investigation of his body.
"No sign of any bullet or knife wounds, and no blow to the head. I think we can rule out a robbery gone wrong."
"Yeah, we can," Jane said, holding up his wrist.
Maura recognised the watch. She'd seen it in a catalogue a few months previous. Moving around the body, she unlatched the strap and searched for its hallmark. "Eighteen carat gold. It's genuine."
"How can Santa afford a watch like that? His house looks like it's not been cleaned in years, and his bedroom stinks. How can he afford a fancy watch when he can't afford to clean his own home?"
"You tell me," Maura said, ripping off her gloves and standing up. "Since you know so much about him."
Jane rolled her eyes. "I don't know anything about this guy."
"He's Santa, is he not?"
"Now you're being facetious."
Maura smirked and moved away from the body. "Kent, let's get him back to BPD, we're going to need to open him up to find out what happened."
"Yes, Boss."
She strode around the house and out onto the front street. Jane followed close behind. "You were the one who brought up Santa."
"Santa is magical. It's the ultimate magic. He makes Christmas special. He makes children happy. How can any kid have a Christmas without him?"
"I survived," Maura said. "We went to the Alps. I spent my days skiing with the nanny."
"At Christmas?"
"Yes, Jane, at Christmas."
Despite the shock on Jane's face, Maura folded her arms and waited, keeping her expression as stoic as possible. She wasn't about to pander to Jane's clear obsession with Santa Claus.
"On Christmas Day?" she asked.
Maura nodded. "Yes."
"Did you at least have Christmas dinner?"
"I had dinner with Lorita."
"And Lorita is?"
"Was. My nanny."
She hadn't thought about her in a long time. For the first decade of her life, she was very special to her. She gave her more love and attention than anyone had in the years previous. Thinking of her only pulled her mood down. She strengthened her resolve.
"Do you have a problem with that, too?"
"Yeah, actually," Jane said. "You didn't have Christmas dinner with your parents? Ever?"
"We probably had dinner together once or twice, but I barely remember. My father would usually be in the Amazon doing research, or in Tanzania visiting the orphanage he helped build." She brushed aside the stray tears that crept onto her cheeks. "My mother had a group of friends, they'd spend their day at the club at the resort."
"What about their kids?" Jane asked.
"What about them?"
"Did you spent the day together?"
"With the other children?" Jane nodded. "No."
"Why not?"
"I…I don't know." In hindsight, it didn't make any sense why she didn't see the other children. They were roughly the same age, and they'd cross paths at the yearly Christmas Eve party, but aside from watching each other go up and down the slopes, she never really spent any time with them. "I suppose they probably spent the day with their nannies too."
"When," Jane began, but Maura cut her off.
"I really must get back to the office," she said, watching Kent climb into the CSU truck. "At this rate our Santa will be back at BPD before I am."
"Right," Jane said. "I'd best go find out if we have got any information from the neighbours."
An hour later, Maura lifted an enlarged heart from Santa's chest. She sighed. Too many overweight men with white-grey hair and beards thought they could put on a Santa suit and pass off as the joyful man who hands out gifts. But too many of them were hiding dangerous heart and liver disease. She didn't anticipate the results of the autopsy being much more than too many years living with an unhealthy lifestyle.
"When you woke up on Christmas morning, what happened?"
She dropped the heart back into his chest. Maura lifted a hand against her own beating heart and turned around. Jane stared at her from the doorway. "What are you doing here?"
"Nothing from the neighbours expect the man who called it in. He said he's got a history of heart disease."
"Cardiomegaly. Probably because of his obesity. I'm yet to find out if he had coronary artery disease. It's likely his cause of death."
"Ho ho ho," Jane said, approaching the table. "So, what did you do on Christmas morning as a kid?"
She carefully picked the heart back up and carried it over to a metal bowl. "What do you mean?"
She picked up a pair of tweezers and leaned forward over the body. She plucked a couple of hairs from the man's arm. "Like when I woke up I'd usually grab my stocking at the end of my bed and take it into Frankie and Tommy's room, then we'd open them together."
"Stop it." Maura took the tweezers and returned them to the metal tray. "I didn't do anything like that."
"Then what did you do?"
"I woke up, and then I went to find Lorita."
"What about presents?"
"Lorita would prepare my breakfast and I'd open the presents."
"With your parents?"
"Sometimes." Maura places a cloth over the metal bowl and pulled a sheet over the body. She tugged off her gloves, disposing of them in the hazardous waste bin beside the faucet. She covered her hands in soap and rinsed off. "If my father was there we'd eat breakfast together. If he wasn't, my mother would sit for a few minutes and then she'd go and shower while I finished opening my gifts."
"And it wasn't Santa who got you the presents?"
"Of course not." Maura exited the examination room and sat behind her desk. "Why are you questioning my childhood Christmas activities?"
"I'm trying to understand why you hate Santa," Jane said, perching on the chair opposite.
"I don't hate Santa."
"So, your parents got you the presents?"
"Usually Lorita would buy them, at the request of my parents. When I got older she'd take me shopping with her."
"Seriously?"
"Jane."
"They couldn't even be bothered to buy their own presents."
"They were busy people," Maura said, opening up her laptop. "Occasionally my father brought something back from his research trips."
"Too busy to put magic into their kid's Christmas." Jane rolled her eyes and sat back. "Let me guess, you didn't do Easter or the tooth fairy, either."
"Why would I?" Maura raised her eyebrows over her laptop. "I don't see what the big deal is. It seems a silly tradition to suggest Santa is responsible for all of that gift giving."
"Silly? It is not."
"Really? Children are told an overweight man, who probably has Rosacea, magically makes millions of presents – most of which are more complicated than a wooden train, or bat and ball. Then in one night attaches his reindeer to a sleigh, and they fly around the world. Somehow, despite his thick suit and enlarged stomach, he manages to squeeze down chimneys, eats millions of snacks and invades people's homes to leave said presents under Christmas trees."
"What part of that is silly?"
"Which part isn't?"
"You are a Grinch."
"I am not. I do not hate Christmas or try to spoil it for others." She logged into her laptop then glanced back at Jane. "Do you know the probability of reindeer actually flying? As for Rudolph, male reindeer tend to shed their antlers in late fall, whilst the female reindeer generally keep theirs until spring. Of course, there is the possibility that the reindeer have been castrated, in which case, they could be male."
Leaning forward, Jane scoffed. "I don't care about if Rudolph was male or female."
"Well you should!" she said. "That's without looking at the speed at which Santa would have to fly to get around the world. Even with time zones. Do you know how many households there are in the world?"
"I dunno, billions?"
"Exactly."
"You know Maura, it's called magic for a reason."
"Magic is not real."
"Christmas magic is!"
"And does Christmas magic keep Santa from keeling over with a massive myocardial infarction?"
"A what?"
"Sudden cardiac arrest. He's already overweight, and then he eats millions of high fat and sugar snacks in one night. Please, Jane, don't insult my intelligence."
"Wasn't trying to," she said.
She stood up and walked around the desk, leaning against the corner. She folded her arms across her chest. "Did all of your presents come from Santa?"
"Err, yeah!"
"All of the hard work your parents put into buying and wrapping everything, and Santa got all of the credit."
"So?"
Maura nodded. "I imagine your father did little work."
"He carved the ham and got the tree."
"No present buying?"
"No. He always paid me to get something for Ma."
"So, yet again a white, older man gets credit for a woman's work."
Jane sighed and groaned. "If you put it like that…"
"And what about the children whose parents couldn't afford lots of presents. How must they feel?"
She slouched further against the chair. "I dunno."
"Naughty children don't get presents; that's what we tell children. Santa will come if you've been good. Why is one child rewarded higher than another?"
Shrugging, Jane pouted. "You really are the Grinch, aren't you?"
"No, Jane. I just see the world as it is, not through magical rose-tinted spectacles."
"There's nothing wrong with a bit of magic," Jane said. "You should see TJ's face on Christmas morning."
"I've seen the photographs; he looks very happy."
"See?"
"See what, Jane? He would be just as happy if the gifts were from his family."
"But without the magic, it's not the same."
"No, maybe not," she said. She really didn't have time to be debating the ins and outs of Christmas. Not when Santa personified was sitting on her autopsy table, and his family were awaiting a response on the cause of his death. "The concept is lovely. It's well meaning, just like religion."
Jane frowned. "Now we're jumping to religion?"
"Christmas and Christianity are intrinsically linked, are they not? Though some tend to ignore the Pagan aspect of the holiday."
"I'm not gonna debate God with you," Jane said, standing up. "I don't wanna get into a fight."
"I wasn't planning on doing so." Maura returned to her desk chair. "I merely reflected that both Santa and religion share well-meaning and heart-warming sentiments."
"But…"
"But, I don't believe, and I don't fully understand how others do either."
"Then I think we're done here," Jane said, turning around and heading toward the door.
"Jane!" Maura shouted. "I haven't upset you, have I?"
"Course not," she said, shrugging. "But you made me dislike your parents even more."
x
The shopping mall bustled. Teenagers ambled around in groups, toddlers rushed ahead of frantic mother's pushing empty strollers, elderly men groaned under the weight of their wives shopping bags. A diamond encrusted necklace caught Maura's eye, but before she could pipe up, Jane was already three feet ahead.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked, struggling to keep up with Jane's fast paced walk.
"We've got a special trip to make."
They entered a department store, one of Maura's favourites. She kept one eye on Jane as she glanced at the pre-Christmas offers, and wondered what exactly the special trip could be if Jane wasn't willing to stop and look at shoes, or jackets, or lingerie.
"I wanted to," Maura shouted after her, but she was already out of earshot. She stared longingly at a red and silver wallet and made a note to find it on the website later.
The adult clothing changed to homeware, then finally to children's wear and toys, before they stopped at the back of the store. A wooden hut had been set up, decorated with Christmas trees and baubles, and fake snow.
"Jane," Maura said, rolling her eyes. "I am not a child. I don't need to visit Santa for you convinced me of his authenticity."
"Wasn't try to," she said, joining the back of the very short line. "Now get over here or you won't be allowed in to see him."
Narrowing her eyes, Maura hesitated. She wasn't about to accept Jane's attempts at thwarting her opinion, on the other hand, she was confident enough in her own beliefs that she knew nothing could sway her anyway. She stepped forward.
"Then why have you brought me here?"
"Because," Jane said, lowering her voice. "Even though you don't believe, everyone should visit Santa once in their life."
"I have been before."
Jane stared at her, her eyebrows tugged together. "You have? Why didn't you tell me?"
"It didn't come up."
"Right." Jane shrugged. "Not once, at any point in our discussion of Santa, was there an opportunity to tell me that you have been to see him before."
"I went once. I was three."
"And?"
"And what?"
"And what did you think?"
Maura sighed. Her mind was still with the red and silver wallet. She took her cell phone out of her purse and quickly made a note, so she didn't forget. "He was a jolly old man who smelled of tobacco."
"Only you would know he smelled of tobacco at three."
"I didn't know it was tobacco then," Maura said. "I just remember the scent clearly."
"It's been forty years." The small group in front of them went into the hut together. Jane stepped up to the barrier. "Let's go see Santa."
"It's not going to make me believe."
"I don't expect it to," Jane said. "Just go with it."
Once three small children came bouncing out of the hut clutching presents, the elf by the entrance unlatched the barrier and invited them to step inside. Jane went first. Maura followed, cautiously. She could smell fresh pine and cinnamon. Underfoot, fake snow replaced the tiles of the shop floor. The light dissipated until they were in a darkened room with a small, electric fireplace, and fairy lights sparkled across the ceiling.
"Hey Santa," Jane said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
Maura hesitated in the doorway.
"Good afternoon, Jane," Santa said. He glanced over her shoulder. "And Maura, well, it's been a long time since I last saw you."
"Unlikely," Maura said.
"You were right," he said to Jane. "She's a hard not to crack."
"I am aware of how these things work." Maura stepped forward. "Someone has a quiet word, or maybe Jane already came to see you."
"Regardless," he said, holding out a hand. "I hear somebody hasn't had much Christmas joy in their life."
She edged further toward him, though she ignored his hand. Eventually, he lowered it. Maura smiled at him. "I wouldn't say I've had no Christmas joy. I do enjoy listening to carols, and I've been known got attend midnight mass from time to time."
"When?" Jane asked.
"A few years ago," she said. "I also went when I was in college."
"Why?"
"Then Christmas story is one of hope and generosity. I may not believe in its validity as a historically accurate account, but I do recognise it as a story with a strong moral message."
"She's everything I expected her to be, and more." Santa raised an eyebrow at Jane, then turned his attention back to Maura. "Given that you don't believe I'll be visiting this year, Maura, I won't ask what you want. Instead, I'll ask you what you always wanted as a child but never got."
"Aside from love?"
He sighed. "Unfortunately that's not something I can help with, though I often wish I could."
"I always received everything I wanted," Maura said.
"Everything?"
"Well, no. One year I asked my parents for a brother or sister and they could not provide that."
"I'm not sure I can either," he said, chuckling.
"I don't need, nor desire, one anymore. I have two biological half-siblings I met later in life, and two, some might say, surrogate brothers." Maura smiled and glanced at Jane.
"Both of which love Santa," Jane said, grasping his hand. "Frankie's gonna be so disappointed I came without him."
"Tell Francesco I said hi."
Scrunching up her face in excitement, Jane squealed. "I will, exactly like that."
"You're cruel," he said, grinning.
Maura watched the exchange with mild curiosity. "How often do you visit?"
"Every year," Jane said.
"Why?"
"Why not? Francesco comes for the chocolate. I come to see my favourite Santa."
"It's always a pleasure to see you, Jane. No TJ yet?"
"We'll be coming back at the weekend when him and Tommy arrive."
"Great, I look forward to it." Santa held his hand out again, and finally, Maura reached for it. "Maura, I take it you've been a good girl this year."
"Always."
"Then I think you deserve a little something."
"Thank you," she said, taking a small, wrapped gift from Santa. "There's really no need, but it's very nice of you."
"You're welcome," he said. "Maybe we'll see you again next year."
"If I'd realised it was a Rizzoli family tradition sooner," Maura said, putting the gift into her purse. "I might have attended sooner."
"Wait until you see your gift," Jane said. Maura raised an eyebrow. "No opening it until we get home."
"Is this where you want me to whine because I want to open it now?"
"That would be your choice."
"I'm not going to play this game," Maura said.
Jane glared. "Spoilsport."
"Now, now, Jane," Santa said. "You'd better be good or you won't get your present when you come back with TJ."
Sticking out her bottom lip, Jane huffed and whimpered, then cracked a smile. She gripped Santa's hand again. "Thanks Santa, even if Maura doesn't believe, you make Christmas special."
"I'll see you soon," he said. "And Maura, if I was you, I'd wait to open that until Jane is nicer to you.
Jane shook her head. "What? No!"
"Why?"
"Trust me," he said, winking.
x
The fire burned in the grate, wood crackled and glowed across the darkened room. Maura tugged her blanket up around her front and pressed play on the movie she'd chosen to watch. Before the credits could roll, there was a knock at the door. She uncurled herself from the sofa and went to open it.
"Good evening, Jane," she said, as soon as it had swung open.
"Evening."
She stepped aside and Jane entered the house carrying a small bag. "Staying over?"
"No," she said, her face stoic. "This is my dress up costume for later."
"Dress up costume?" Maura laughed and rolled her eyes. "I just started It's a Wonderful Life, care to join me?"
"Shouldn't you be getting ready for bed? It is Christmas Eve."
"It's eight thirty."
"Santa doesn't come if you go to bed too late," Jane said, dropping the bag on the floor. She pulled a packet from the side pocket. "I brought some cookies."
"Perfect," Maura said, smiling. "I was just thinking about how I felt like something sweet."
"No!" Jane snatched the packet away from Maura. "They're for Santa. We need to leave him some cookies and a glass of wine."
"I don't have any wine."
"Yeah, right." Jane rolled her eyes and walked over to the wine fridge. "What are all of these?"
"Those are not bottles I plan on wasting on a fictional being," Maura said, joining her in the kitchen. "I'm saving the 2014 Château d'Esclans Garrus for a special occasion. The bottles of 2013 McLaren Vale Shiraz are for dinner tomorrow."
"Great, we can use one of those."
"No!" Maura batted Jane's hand away from the door handle. "If we were to assume that Santa was real, I do not condone drink driving regardless of how magical his sleigh supposedly is. We can leave out a glass of milk."
"Milk?" Jane glared at her. "Nobody leaves out milk anymore."
"I think you'll find you're wrong. Milk and cookies is a tradition, and one that is used on Christmas Eve." Maura took a glass from the cupboard.
"Then how about a beer?"
"No. No alcohol." She pulled the carton of milk from the fridge. "Were you planning on drinking the wine, by any chance?"
"No." Jane stared at Maura, her eyes wide as she shook her head. "Fine. Milk will do."
"Here." She handed Jane the glass.
"It needs to go on the table with the cookies on a plate."
"But the cookies will go stale."
"They won't have long to wait."
"Stale cookies do not taste very nice."
Jane grabbed a plate from the cupboard and placed it on the counter. "Cookies here, now."
"Yes, Detective," Maura said, opening the packet and emptying it out onto the plate. "Can we at least have one while we watch the movie?"
"No! The cookies are for Santa. You don't want to disappoint him now, do you?"
"Given that I do not believe he even exists, how could I possibly have any feelings about disappointing him?"
As Maura spoke, Jane opened up a cupboard door and started rooting around inside. Puzzled, Maura frowned and watched her. Eventually her actions would be made clear, at least she hoped they would.
"Got it!" Jane shouted, turning around with a wonky carrot in hand. Maura narrowed her eyes. "Rudolph gets hungry."
"Of course he does," Maura said, resting her hands on her hips. "You know, the 1823 poem 'Twas The Night Before Christmas' doesn't include Rudolph. He was introduced in the 1930s. His parentage is rather confusing given that in various different versions of the story, Rudolph's related to several of the original reindeer. Given that reindeer only live for about ten years, it's unlikely Rudolph, or any of the other reindeer, would still be alive."
Jane rolled her eyes. "Magic, Maura."
"If it's magic, then why does there need to be a ninth reindeer? Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen were sufficient at pulling the sleigh for over a hundred years. Why did they need to introduce Rudolph?"
"Because of his shiny nose, duh!"
"Really, Jane." Maura shook her head. "Do you really believe a reindeer could have such a bright nose? It's standard for some reindeer to have a slight pinkish coloration to their noses, as a result of densely packed blood vessels, but the nose certainly wouldn't glow like a car headlamp."
"That's it," Jane said, placing her hands on Maura's shoulders and turning her around. "Time for bed."
Maura stepped forward a couple of steps, then stopped and turned to Jane. "But it's not even nine."
"So?"
"I don't intend to go to sleep for another few hours."
"Then go watch your movie in bed."
"I don't like to watch television in bed."
"It's Christmas," Jane said. "Think of it as a special treat."
"I don't know why you even insisted I purchase a television for my bedroom, anyway."
"In case you get sick."
"I get out of bed when I'm sick."
"You are the only person who does."
She crossed her arms across her chest. "Jane, please stop trying to make me do things I don't wish to do. I've played your games, and conceded to your Christmas themed demands. Now please, let me enjoy Christmas Eve the way I like to."
"Please, Maura," Jane said, taking her hands and holding them in front of her. "Just this one, I want to make Christmas real special."
"Really special."
Jane glared at her. "Just this one."
"Okay." She held her hands up in surrender. "I shall watch the movie in bed. Will you lock the door before you leave?"
"Will do."
x
Sunlight gleamed through the gap in the curtain. Maura stretched her arms up above her head and yawned. Memories of her dreams dissipated before she could quite remember them. Then she remembered that it was Christmas. She sat up, her eyes grew wide.
"Jane?" Maura asked, frowning.
The person stood at the foot of her bed, wearing a Santa outfit, merely said "Ho, ho, ho."
"This is what you meant when you said you had a dress up costume," she said, raising an eyebrow. She ran a hand through her tussled hair. "Have you been here all night?"
"I didn't want to leave without seeing you open your presents this morning," Jane said, her voice barely disguised by the phony gruffness she put on.
"Presents?" Maura shrugged. "I don't usually have any presents to open until lunchtime when you've all arrived."
"Not this one," Jane said, holding out the gift Santa had given her at the mall.
Maura stared at her, narrowing her eyes until Jane stepped forward. She held out the gift. "Your stocking and other gifts are under the tree, where they belong. But this one you should open now."
"Why not?"
"Why not now?"
She took it and carefully peeled away the paper, until underneath was a box. She lifted the lid and raised her eyebrows at Jane. "I can't imagine Santa picked this out for me."
"Not Mall Santa," Jane said, pursing her lips. Maura lifted out the red and white lingerie. Jane pointed to herself. "This Santa made sure you got the right gift this year."
"The right gift for whom?"
Jane shrugged. "A gift for you, is a gift for me, which is definitely a gift for you…"
"And that means?"
Unbuckling the belt, Jane pulled the Santa jacket away from her shoulders to reveal a pair of suspenders and a bra. Maura smirked, watching as she slowly stripped down to her underwear before she crawled forward along the bed.
"If this is what Santa is all about," Maura said, cupping Jane's cheeks. "Then I definitely believe in this Santa."
"Guess what?" Jane whispered, her lips millimetres from Maura's.
"What, Jane?"
"With Ma staying with Tommy and TJ at Frankie's, we're not expecting anyone for a couple of hours."
"Merry Christmas to you too," Maura said, capturing her lips.
THE END