Disclaimer: Don't own them. Just borrowing.
This is a little fluffy one shot. No story, no plot...just Christmas scene warm-fuzzy. Consider it a holiday card.
Enjoy and Happy Holidays.
Outside, the streetlight reflected off ice crystals floating in the frigid air making them reminiscent of glitter snow globe.
It was one of those nights where people hurried to be where they needed to be, or found an excuse to stay cooped up where they were because it was just too unforgiving to be out.
Inside, it was warm and down right cozy. There was an air of expectancy around the two of them that made the world outside disappear...at least for the time being.
"It's Christmas Eve, Jordan," he whispered, his smile a snapshot of the child he once was, a lifetime of Christmases ago.
"...Yep, alllll day," she replied softly, her grin a little more subdued. She was still trying to catch her breath.
"Just think of it? The Christ Child, presents, Santa...carols..."
Jordan rolled her eyes. "You're not going to break out in song again are you?"
"...maybe."
"Spare me," she said, adjusting the sheet over her chest. "The other day you sang Frosty the Snowman and I ended up craving Wendy's all day."
His smile faded slightly. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have picked up lunch."
"I wasn't exactly speaking to you at the time."
Amusement tugged at the corners of his lips. "If I remember right you haven't been talking to me since about Thanksgiving Day," he chuckled, casually brushing the sweaty little tendrils of hair away from her face.
Jordan arched her eyebrow. "Can you honestly blame me? If I were smart, I should have stopped speaking to you around Easter."
"It's the dimples." He flashed them for added affect, making her remember just why she came to be spending this particular Christmas Eve night with him in the first place.
"Easter, Christmas, Thanksgiving...I think we have the makings of a theme here..."
"Don't sing," she reiterated.
"I'll spare you. The only Thanksgiving song I know talks about grandmothers and, well, it would remind me of her and I don't think your Granny would be too thrilled to know what you and 'that cop' have been up to lately."
"Granny?" she chuckled.
"Please don't tell her I called her that. She still scares me, just a little," he said holding his thumb and fore finger up.
"It's our secret."
The world stopped for a minute as the reality of the situation hit her once again. The past few hours...the past few months have been the most frightening and yet the happiest of her life.
He was right, of course. Her grandmother wasn't thrilled with their relationship. She reiterated her doubts in her holiday card. Who tells someone that they think they are throwing away their life in a Christmas card? Jordan was old enough, beyond old enough, to make these kinds of choices.
...besides it was too late to second guess...even if she wanted to.
Jordan was better off without her. They all were. Now, if she could only convince her father to come home. Maybe when he called the next time, things would be different. Jordan could only hope.
His hand rested lightly on her middle helping her to refocus. She steered the conversation back to holidays. It was safer than her family.
"To tell you the truth, I never liked Thanksgiving much. It's just an excuse for a testosterone-filled day of food and football."
"You have to admit, nothing says 'Turkey Day' like Lions, Cowboys and pumpkin pie," he quipped.
"Do you think anyone in the city of Detroit eats turkey on Thanksgiving?" She asked thoughtfully.
"Maybe they save it for Christmas."
"Only if the Pistons aren't playing in the traditional NBA doubleheader," she said with a cheeky smile.
"Of course."
Woody glanced at the clock. They were going to miss Mass. Woody promised to give Jordan her present if she'd go to church with him. It was wrapped and tucked next to hers for him under the tree. He already had all he wanted for Christmas right there in that bed. The other presents could wait.
"Just think ...tonight Santa Claus will be here," he said, the excitement and wonder he'd been oozing all season creeping into his voice.
"So the story goes..." she drawled in contrast. Jordan's body was screaming for rest. She closed her eyes while she had the chance.
Looping his arm low around her hips, he leaned in close, his voice low and gentle. "'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house..."
"It's only fair to warn you," Jordan murmured. "I rank holiday poetry recitals up there with carol singing on the annoying scale."
"Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse."
"Tell me. What's with the house with rowdy rats? Maybe the fat guy thought the rodent situation would cover the racket of his B&E. Unfortunately, it was an uncommonly quiet night and he was busted."
"Santa doesn't break in, Jordan."
She ruffled his hair. "Virginia, I hate to break this to you but Santa doesn't exist."
"How can you say that when he's been very good to you this year."
"I'm sure we're talking about two different sugar-junkies here. But, if there is any doubt, there is a battery of tests out there to make sure."
"That's not even funny, Jordan."
"Just making sure you're still with me and not in some It's a Wonderful Life fantasy world."
"I love that movie."
"Some how that doesn't surprise me."
"What do you have against the Christmas spirit, Jordan?"
"It's all those roasting chestnuts and sleigh bells, I guess," she shifted uncomfortably. "They get drown-out by the odor of overcharged credit cards and hypocritical gestures of good will. It all adds to give me a headache."
"And here I thought it was me..."he smirked, cockily.
She answered his grin with lopsided one of her own. "You're just one tiny part of it, Wood. Although, you do have to admit wasting the entire weekend searching for the perfect tree was Excedrin worthy."
"I didn't waste the entire weekend..."he huffed.
"For what you spent on gas to driving around town, you could have gone to Oregon and picked your own."
"You don't pick trees ,Jordan. You cut them down."
"In Oregon maybe, but here in Boston...you pick one. Which you did...after dragging me to every tree lot in Eastern Massachusetts..."
"Come on...admit it. You like the tree."
Jordan blinked twice and then shrugged. "Okay, it smells nice"
"...and you like all the lights."
"When they're not giving me Vegas flash backs..."
"...and I've watched you listening to the church bells in the morning."
"The sub-freezing temps make them sound almost...magical."
"...and you didn't complain when someone hung mistletoe over your office door..."
"I just wonder who that was..."she chuckled softly.
"Deep down inside you like Christmas, Jordan."
"I used to love Christmas," she smiled nostalgically. "Dad tried, but it was never the same. After awhile I just stopped believing and it simply turned into another day."
"That's not this year..."he said softly.
"No, it's not," she whispered.
"You and I...together...we've been given a chance to make up for all those years when both our faiths have been a little shaky. We're discovering the true meaning of Christmas, first hand...and it's all because of you, Jordan." he said, kissing the top of her head.
"I think you had a little something to do with that."
"That depends on those test results, of course," he said with a nonchalant wave of the hand.
Jordan gasped and punched him in the shoulder, to which he laughed and feigned injury. That all quickly ended when she reached for his hand again. She needed him and this was going to be a long one.
"I love you, Jordan," he said, looking into her eyes, willing the pain to go away. "Merry Christmas."
"I love you too..."
The sound of a pair of stirrups being snapped into place made them both jump. The intimacy of the last few minutes fell away and the world around them tip-toed back in. It brought with it the rustling of paper gowns being donned and the reassuringly beep of the monitor. This was it. What they've been waiting for the better part of the year.
"You two almost make me wish I didn't celebrate Hanukah," the doctor said with a smile. "And just between us...I've always wondered about Detroit too," she added patting Jordan on the knee. "I think it's time, Jordan. On the next contraction, I want you to push."