This is the first in the Holiday Series. It was originally posted at the now-defunct Lukewarm and is still at Black, White, and Read.

Moosie and Miss Crabtree betaed this for me and did a fine job. Thanks ladies. Always.

Please be aware that this story is full of sex. Lots and lots of it. If that offends you, or you are too young to be reading, please close this now.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my sparkling personality and red hair (and even that is on loan from my hairdresser).

~~Joy to the World, Indeed by outtabreath~~

~December 11, 2004~
~Wrapping~

"Did you buy me a Christmas gift?" I asked him fourteen days before Christmas.

He didn't even bother looking up, "Of course."

"What is it?"

He did look up at that, though only to frown his "Lorelai you are totally insane, and I can't believe I am dating you" frown. "I'm not telling you."

"Why not?"

"Um, because it's a Christmas gift. A surprise. You have to wait."

"You should tell me, you know. This is the most important gift you'll ever give me." He narrowed his eyes at that, but I pressed right along. "If it's really good, then you'll spend the rest of our lives trying to match it. If it sucks, I'll never trust you again and will spend the weeks before any gift-giving occasion mercilessly questioning you and leaving catalogues with pages folded down and pictures circled everywhere."

"I'm not telling you."

"Did you ask Rory for help?" I continued, utterly ignoring him. "'Cause that would've been a really good idea."

"Why bother? The lady at the Chat Shack said you'd love it," he said, dropping his eyes and smirking.

"Luke!" I shouted, pretending to be scandalized. I took a deep breath in preparation for my continued badgering.

"I'm not telling you. You need to wait like everyone else," he interrupted.

I sighed, "I'll tell you what I got you."

He looked up again. "I don't want to know. I can wait until Christmas."

I grinned back at that. A boyfriend to wake up with on Christmas morning. A warm glow started in my heart, and I focused on cutting a piece of paper to fit around a Candyland game. We were sitting at a card table in the living room of my very Christmasy house, busily wrapping presents for Toys for Tots. A fire was burning merrily in the fireplace, the lights dotting my tree (complete with dead celebrity ornaments) were twinkling cheerfully, and the candles were burning happily. The rooms smelled like fire and pine and sugar and cinnamon. I was deep in the Christmas spirit and contentment infused me. I began to hum along to the Christmas music emanating from my speakers. I looked up at Luke, only to find him frowning back at me.

"What?"

"Tell me again how I got conned into helping you wrap Bratz and Death Race 3000 for kids?"

"Because you told me about the power of the hair flip when combined with my black dress."

"Oh yeah," he sighed. "That."

"Besides, Toys for Tots is a good thing, and we're helping out."

"Yeah," he replied on another sigh. "Doing good works and all."

"The price tags all off?" I asked, still cutting paper.

"Yep. What next?"

"Wrap," I responded, leaning forward to push the cut paper closer to him, and giving him a nice peek down my red tank (seasonally emblazoned with "Santa's Girl" across the good parts). His jaw twitched in a most satisfying manner and I suddenly didn't care about doing good deeds, only dirty ones.

"Luke," I whispered, drawing his name out into several syllables.

"What?" he answered, keeping his eyes fastened on the table and paper in front of him.

"Do you like my new tank top?"

"It's fine," he said, clutching a piece of paper and crinkling it. He sighed heavily and reached for the tape with slightly trembling hand.

He was being so good. I needed to stop that immediately.

"Luke?"

"I'm wrapping gifts for kids, Lorelai," he chided, concentrating mightily on the piece of paper in front of him.

"I got a bearskin rug."

He raised his eyebrows but kept his eyes down. "You did? Never would've pegged you for someone who'd want dead animals decorating anything other than her feet."

"Nice," I shot back. "It's not a real one. I put it by the fireplace."

He was getting frustrated, I could tell. He was also struggling to control himself, and I couldn't begin to fathom why.

"Which gift is this for?" he asked, holding up a piece of paper with candy canes on it.

I tipped my head, stuck my left index finger in my mouth and began to twirl my hair with the right. "Um. I think a Bratz doll."

He grabbed one of the dolls and put it facedown on the paper and began to fold the sides up around it. "What's with the name? Bratz: the dolls who love fashion," he started ranting. "What are they teaching kids? That being a brat is a good thing? Have people just given up on making sure that the next generation is going to be anything more than out-of-control juvenile delinquents?"

"What are you doing?" I demanded, cutting off his rant. How the heck was he resisting me?

"What are you doing?" he questioned right back. "We need to get these gifts wrapped." He reached for the tape and the sides of the paper fell open.

"You need to hold the paper and tape it," I pointed out.

"I know," he grunted. "It's not that easy."

"Yes it is, hon," I said, more than a little put off that he was resisting me to wrap presents for children. I knew that I had conned him into helping me, but he could just ignore the gifts for an hour or two. He was fumbling with coordinating his movements. "Having a problem there?" I smirked.

"I'm better at unwrapping," he shot back.

"That you are," I responded, letting my voice drop to sultry.

His head snapped up, his fingers falling away from the gift. I smiled wickedly at him.

"Stop that," he demanded, "or none of these presents will get wrapped."

I held his eyes. "Can't have that, Luke. All those little kids waking up disappointed on Christmas morning because you're better at unwrapping then you are at wrapping."

"Lorelai," he cautioned, practically growling. Finally, I was getting a response. Then he ruined it by focusing on the present again. "Let's just get this done, okay?"

Time to try a new tack. I stood, noting that his eyes skimmed my body, right up to the letters that proclaimed me Santa's Girl. "I'll get us something to drink. You keep wrapping. We'll do ribbons later." I passed well out of his reach (and mine) and headed to the kitchen.

"We'll do ribbons later?" he muttered behind me. "Great. Can't wait for that."