Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: All these are unbeta'd. Any mistakes are all mine. :)
Gift Wrap
"What the hell?" Dave's agitated voice filters out of the bedroom. He disappeared in there half an hour earlier with a roll of wrapping paper and other supplies, a secretive smile on his face. Now it sounds like he's getting ready to draw his service weapon and take care of business.
Suppressing a laugh, Emily goes to stand outside the closed door. "Everything okay in there?"
"No!" He's silent then, and she can almost see him reining in his temper, head thrown back, eyes closed, hands on his hips, willing himself to calm down. He clears his throat and opens the door a crack. "I think it's a conspiracy."
She can't stop her smile at the sight of him. His hair is disheveled, and his face is stormy. "What's a conspiracy?"
"This," he holds out a box swathed in slightly wrinkled wrapping paper. "Is there some sort of class they give to women on how to do this?"
Emily can't help it, she laughs. He looks so much like a petulant little boy, and she finds him adorable. "You know stores offer wrapping services, right?"
"Yeah." He shrugs, and color stains his cheeks. "I just wanted to do it myself."
Heart melting, she wraps her arms around his waist and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. "I think it's perfect," she whispers as her hands find the buttons on his shirt.
"What are you doing?" He's grinning down at her, his empty hand settling on her hip.
"Unwrapping my gift a little early."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Fantasy
The golden glow from the fire burnishes her skin, and she is even more radiant than usual. Lights from the Christmas tree create a pool of blue in the hollow of her throat, paint orange along the smooth lines of her collarbones, splash reds and greens on the tips of her hair. Her ebony eyes sparkle with heat.
"It's better than in my fantasy." Dave, his body buried deep inside hers, whispers against her lips.
Hitching her hips a little higher, snatching the breath from his lungs as if it was hers for the taking, she smiles. "What is?"
"You," he presses his hips forward and drinks the moan from her mouth. "Here in the light from the tree."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Season of Joy
The first snowflakes fall as they stroll toward the Washington Monument. President Lincoln is at their back, his calm likeness brightly lit against the encroaching darkness. Lamps cast puddles of light along the pebbled path, and ice fringes the edges of the Reflecting Pool.
Emily tightens her hand on the crook of Dave's arm and lays her head on his shoulder. "Sometimes I forget why I do the job, why I care about saving the world." He feels her chuckle more than hears it. "Sometimes I forget why the world is worth saving. Then I see this," she waves a slender hand in the direction of the obelisk, "and everything seems to make sense again."
Stopping, Dave turns to face her. She's smiling up at him, a question in her eyes, and she's so beautiful, so full of life he can barely breathe. He touches her cheek, and even though he can't feel her skin through his glove he knows how soft she is, how smooth. Snowflakes are settling on the shoulders of her coat and catching on her eyelashes, and he wants to hold on to this image of her. He wants to remember everything about this moment.
"Dave?"
He can feel the nerves tightening in his belly, anticipation and fear and hope mixing inside him. "That's how I feel when I look at you." Her eyes widen, and her mouth opens in a silent 'O'. "Like everything in the world makes sense."
She's trembling, a delicate shiver he can feel as he takes her hands in his. Then he's on his knee, the cold and the pebbles biting into him through his jeans. "You make me better. You make everything better. I love you, Emily, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please marry me?"
The first tears spill from her eyes when she nods. "Yes." It's a whisper, barely a sound above the breeze stirring the trees.
Standing, he pulls her to him, holding her tight. "Now it is truly a season of joy," he murmurs just before he kisses her.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Kissing Santa
"Tell me again how Jimmy got you to do this." Emily stuck her head in the door of the priest's office and grinned at Dave.
Looking up, Dave pointed a finger at her. "No laughing." When she giggled, he added, "That's it. You've been cut off until further notice."
She slipped inside and closed the door. With a saucy grin on her face, she said, "I know you better than that."
Barking out a laugh, he picked up the Santa hat and tugged it on. "Yeah. I'm not one to cut my nose off to spite my face."
"Exactly." She walked over and fluffed the curls spilling from his hat until they lay against his furry white collar to her satisfaction, then slid his beard into place. "You look very…authentic." She didn't even try to control the huge smile that spread over her face.
"I think you're making fun of me." Even though his eyes were twinkling, he pushed his lower lip out in a pout. "Maybe you should try being nicer if you want a present this year."
Going up on her tiptoes, she kissed him, long and slow and sweet, with his beard slipping over her chin and cheeks.
"How's that?" Her voice was a little breathless.
His hands squeezed her waist. "It's a nice start."
Stepping back, she used her thumb to wipe the lipstick from his lips. "Well, I do like to finish what I start. How long do you get to keep that costume?"