Just a little one-shot that I thought of over the Thanksgiving Holiday. It's not been seriously edited, so I apologize for any mistakes. I don't own the Blacklist or any of the associated characters.

It was a blustery, snowy morning in DC the day after Thanksgiving – and unfortunately for Agent Donald Ressler, it was also a work day. Because unlike other government workers, the task force didn't get a four-day weekend. And as the rickety old elevator descended into the war room his bad mood increased.

"I love those j-i-n-g-l-e bells, oh, those holiday j-i-n-g-l-e bells . . ."

"What the ..., " thought Ressler, as the yellow doors opened. Stepping out into the concrete floor, his ears were "assaulted" by the crooning of Frank Sinatra. And he could only stop and stare at the sight that greeted him. Aram, Liz, and Meera were grouped around Aram's computer, pointing at the screen and chatting away excitedly.

"Aram, we HAVE to have 'Little Drummer Boy' in a Christmas playlist." Liz's voice was emphatic in such a childlike and joyful way, Ressler had to do a double take to make sure it was her speaking.

"Okay, but as long as it's the Pentatonix version. The way Old Blue Eyes sings it is too slow for me."

Liz rolled her eyes and looked to Meera, who merely shrugged her shoulders. "Fine, but Nat King Cole's version of 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen' makes it on there."

Aram winced, but made a few clicks with his mouse and complied with Liz's request.

"WHAT DO YOU ALL THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Three pairs of eyes turned to their teammate in shock. "It's not even December yet!"

"But it's the day after Thanksgiving," Liz argued. "Therefore, playing Christmas music is socially acceptable." By this time, the brown-haired agent had turned fully towards her partner and had her arms across her chest. A sure sign she wasn't backing down.

Ressler shook his head. "Not in this office and if you think- "

Ressler's thought went unfinished as the elevator opened to revel the Concierge of Crime himself walking into the room, followed, as ever, by Dembe. The tension was palatable.

Observing Liz's stubborn expression, Ressler's frown, and Aram's nervous face (Meera was calm, as always and merely quirked her eyebrow at him), Red worked his jaw and heaved a sigh.

"What's got you kids all worked up? Lizzie get to the swings before you Donald?" Dembe chuckled as Ressler's face flushed.

"We were creating an office Christmas playlist, when Ressler came in here all in a huff saying we couldn't play Christmas music till December 1st," Liz explained, sounded slightly like a child who had, in fact, had her swing stolen from her.

Red's face softened slightly. He understood why Liz was so insistent, even if the others didn't. She was, in many ways, Sam's daughter. And his dear friend had always played Christmas music on the day immediately after Thanksgiving. Red strode over to the computer looking over Aram's shoulder.

"Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Burl Ives, Dean Martin, Pentatonix . . . This is a good list."

"Yeah," Ressler scoffed, "if my grandmother was making the playlist."

"Well," Red drawled with a shrug, "your grandmother has good taste."

"A shame she didn't pass it on to him," a quiet, feminine voice said next to him. Everyone in the room stared at Liz. Aram looked at her with awe, Meera covered her mouth hiding a tiny smile, and Red smirked, doing absolutely nothing to hide the pride on his face.

"Uh… um. What did you say?" Ressler managed to stammer out his sentence, his face growing redder with embarrassment.

Liz squared her shoulders, but otherwise remained quiet. Donald sighed, feeling guilty for causing a scene and realized the uselessness in fighting her.

"Fine, but not in the car while I'm in it." Liz let out a smile and even said thank you as she walked past him to their office.

"Good choice Donald. I didn't think you were going to budge there for a minute."

Ressler looked to his nemesis and then to his partner through the office window, who was still smiling. "She hasn't smiled like that in a while. If I have to endure a few Christmas songs to get that, I'll do it."

Red nodded and patted the agent on his shoulder as he walked toward Lizzie's office.

"Like I said, good choice."