John Nolan stood on the sand, watching the sun sink lower in the sky and contemplating his first Christmas as a stranger in a strange land. By now Henry and Sarah would be at her mother's house, where they'd always spent Christmas Eve. Probably asleep by now after a day of visiting and eating and partying. He'd always enjoyed the food and family, but partying and visiting had never been his thing.

Still, he wasn't sure whether he was sorry or relieved to be here on the other end of the country. Ben was right - he didn't know how to be on his own.

"The sun is shining, the grass is green, the orange and palm trees sway,
There's never been such a day in Beverly Hills, L. A. ..."

John paused in his stroll on the beach. He should have known someone would be singing "White Christmas", out of either a sense of irony or just whimsy. It was a woman's voice, carried by the breeze to where he was standing, looking down the stretch of sand.

Only a handful of humans populated the landscape; the sun may have been shining, but for most Angelenos it was fairly chilly, and for most tourists the shopping season was coming to a climax. So it was easy for him to find the source of the voice.

She stood close to the edge of the tide, hands in the pockets of her short pants, her face tipped up to the sunshine. Her feet were bare and her dark brown hair was pulled up into a tight bun, and her voice wasn't loud, just audible over the tumbling waves.

He wandered over to listen, somehow reassured that he wasn't the only loner here today, and stood about twenty steps behind her and slightly to her left until the song ended. She appeared to heave a sigh, then turned a little as if to walk along the sand.

John tried not to attract her attention - she seemed so serene, he didn't want to spoil that - but she glanced over and caught him looking studiously past her. He heard her laugh, a light chime of a sound that carried just as easily as had her song.

"Officer Nolan," she said, standing still.

"Um," said John, always so articulate. "Do I know you?"

"Oh, probably not," said the lady. "You might have heard me. I'm in Dispatch at Mid-Wilshire."

Enlightenment struck. John stepped closer and extended a hand. "Oh, right," he said as they shook. "John Nolan. And you are - ?"

"Nell. Just - Nell. Nice to meet you, Offi- John."

She tipped her head as if to invite him along, and he fell into step as she began to walk.

"I heard you singing," said John. "I knew that song had an intro - I just never heard anyone sing it before."

"Pretty funny, huh? Everybody thinks of snow when they hear that song, but it's really about being where there's no snow."

"It's kind of weird, for me." He shrugged. "This is the first Christmas I've had with no snow. I just came to California from Pennsylvania earlier this year," he explained at her quizzical look.

"Wow, that's a big change."

"Have you always lived in California? If you don't mind my asking."

"I don't," Nell smiled. "I was born in New York, but I've been here for a long time. I don't miss the snow."

"Me neither," said John.

They walked in silence for a bit, then Nell said, "If you don't mind my asking? What made you move to California?"

That's a long story, thought John. After a moment he replied with the short version.

"I had a big change in my life and found myself on my own... for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever. And I decided to be a cop, and there are only so many places that will take a rookie my age."

"Wow," she said again, then added, "I hope the big change didn't involve anyone dying."

"Just my marriage," he quipped, trying to make it funny (and probably failing).

To his relief, she didn't ask for further information, but she didn't change the subject either. She shook her head and said simply, "Stuff happens."

"It's also the first time I've been alone over the holidays," he went on.

"How's that working for you?"

John looked over at her; she seemed genuinely interested, not just making a sarcastic remark.

"Okay, so far," he said. "I get to make my own plans. Which means I have no plans, which is great."

They both grinned at each other.

"What about you?" he asked. "Are you on your own?"

"My family still lives in New York. I'm not crazy about crowds or snow or anything about NYC in winter, so this year I decided to stick around here." She turned her face toward the setting sun and smiled.

"So you're not dreaming of a white Christmas," John said. "More like - 'California Dreaming'."

She turned her smile on him and they walked on.

Nell arrived in Dispatch, early for the Christmas Eve graveyard shift, hoping for a quiet night but ready for whatever Los Angeles threw in their way. As she sat down at her station, her eye was drawn to an object perched in front of her monitor - something small and round that would just about fit in her palm. A snow globe.

She picked it up and shook it, and flecks of white whirled around the surfer and his board in the beach scene within the glass. The collar under the globe had "Cowabunga Christmas!" in cartoony lettering on it, and there was a note stuck to her monitor - but she knew who had left her this little memento.

Coffee later? said the note's blocky handwriting. Nell smiled and sent a text message to Officer Nolan's mobile unit.

Meet you on the beach.

A/N: May your days be merry and bright!