Where Are You, Christmas?

Christmas in L.A. is never done half-assed. Just like with anything else, the city goes all out, decorations, lights, even fake snow. It's incredibly overwhelming, and if you're Charlotte King, it's incredibly annoying. While everyone else is ready to celebrate the holiday, Charlotte would rather duck her head over her millions of charts and paperwork in her office and ignore the whole season.

The Oceanside Wellness Group suffers no such inhibitions. They've strung lights around the office, gotten a little evergreen to grace the front lobby, and someone, probably Addison Montgomery, has found silver ornaments and suspended them from the ceiling tiles. When Charlotte stands in the lobby, she feels like Santa Claus or something has thrown up all over the room. In fact, it makes her feel a little nauseated. Dell grins cheerfully at her from the counter, but she ignores him and walks straight back to Sam's office to consult on a patient that they both treated last week.

It's the last day before Christmas, and she finds all the doctors in the conference room, swirling coffee around in mugs and laughing about something inane, no doubt. They all look up as she walks in and sits down, and the laughter abruptly cuts off. She can smell Bailey's, and realizes that Irish coffee is likely the reason they're so happy.

"Well, are you going to continue slacking all day, or are you going to give me the information I need about this patient?"

"Merry Christmas to you too, Charlotte." Cooper's voice is dry and she rolls her eyes. "I don't have time for these wonderful Christmas sentiments or whatever they are. I'm here to get the file and go. Unlike you, I actually have a hospital to run."

"Don't you ever get tired of that excuse?" Violet pipes up, and Charlotte turns her sharp gaze on her. "Don't you ever get tired of thinking you know better than people?"

Violet shuts up, simply because she doesn't feel like fighting with Charlotte. Beside her, Naomi rolls her eyes. "Charlotte, for God's sake. It'd be nice if you'd be a little more pleasant, that's all."

"And I'm sure you're always sunshine and rainbows, Naomi." Charlotte rises. "I don't have time to argue with you people today. Sam, send the file over with your next courier. I'll talk to you all when I have to."

Addison rises, too. "Charlotte. Don't leave like this. Why don't you sit and have a drink with us?"

Charlotte looks her right in the eyes, and Addison is surprised by the bitterness therein. "No. I've got to get back."

She leaves the room and hurries out through the lobby, avoiding Dell's curious eyes. If there's anything that Charlotte hates, it's Christmas and Christmas cheer, especially when coupled with Oceanside.

Where are you, Christmas?
Why can't I find you?
Why have you gone away?
Where is the laughter
You used to bring me?
Why can't I hear music play?

Paperwork never ends at St. Ambrose, and when Charlotte finally leaves, it's pouring with rain. The parking lot is full of potholes and Charlotte isn't watching where she's going, as usual. She's got an armload of charts, a briefcase full of files, and her laptop in its case slung across her shoulder. Like many women, Charlotte's got a weakness for designer shoes, but they're not made to sprint across a wet, cold parking lot. She slips on a wet leaf and falls, twisting her ankle painfully and hitting the ground a few feet from her car. Thankfully, she falls on her left side, which is the side the laptop isn't on. Charlotte's athletic, so she tries to relax and curl into a ball before she hits the ground, but she can't quite make it, and her hip strikes the cement with full force.

The world spins for a moment as the combined pain of her hip and her ankle make her stomach lurch and the spots dance before her eyes. When she's recovered from the shock, she casts a look around the parking lot in horror, hoping that no one saw her fall. Her charts are scattered around her and her purse has flown from her shoulder, just beyond her reach. She shakily rights herself to a sitting position and sighs, feeling the tears rush to her eyes with the pain, shock and embarrassment. So concerned is she with trying to recover that she doesn't notice when Addison Montgomery starts picking up the charts beside her.

"Montgomery?" Charlotte's voice is trembly and she curses herself. "When did you get here?"

Addison straightens, holding the charts to her chest. "The nurse outside your office told me that I could find you going out to your car, if I hurried. I brought you the file you wanted." She waves a file at Charlotte and then puts her armload on top of her car, which, Charlotte realizes, is parked a few feet away. "Are you okay?"

To Charlotte's horror, she starts to cry. "I'm fine, Montgomery," she says roughly, brushing the tears out of her eyes. "You can go ahead. Thanks for the file." Charlotte's Southern accent is thicker when she cries, and Addison has to strain to understand her words. She kneels down beside the petite blonde, who doesn't seem to be able to get up. "Where does it hurt?"

Charlotte opens her mouth to retort, but inside she just sobs. "It hurts everywhere," she manages. "I fell pretty hard. Stupid shoes." She sticks her foot out and glares at the pretty yellow-and-black printed pumps. Addison smiles. "They're pretty, but yeah; not exactly good for running across parking lots. You need to slow down," she says gently, and holds out her hand. "Come on. Can you stand?"

Charlotte, with Addison's help, is able to stand up, but she hobbles on her swollen ankle. "Ouch." She wipes at her eyes and Addison puts her arm around her. "I don't think you're going to be able to drive."

Charlotte knows it, too. "I don't think so, either." She straightens and looks Addison in the eyes, dreading what she's going to say. "Can I – can you, you know, give me a ride back to my house? I can pay you for gas," she finishes in a rush.

Addison smiles again. "I can give you a ride." She helps Charlotte into her car and hands her a Kleenex from the backseat. Charlotte mops at her eyes and sighs. "Sorry for all of this. And thanks."

Addison puts the heat on and rubs Charlotte's shoulders, right where they're tight from constantly hunched over her desk. "Just relax." She turns on the radio and classical Christmas music comes out of the speakers in the red Porsche. Charlotte winces. "God, I hate Christmas."

My world is changing
I'm rearranging
Does that mean Christmas changes, too?

At the last minute, Addison decides to go straight to her house instead of to Charlotte's. Charlotte's a little annoyed until she figures out that she actually doesn't want to be alone. Her ankle hurts and without even looking, she knows that her hip is bruised and scraped raw. She closes her eyes and enjoys the heat coming out of the vents. Addison pulls into her driveway and looks over at Charlotte. "You sleeping?"

"No." Charlotte moves uncomfortably. "Why are we here, Montgomery?"

"Because I want to make sure you're all right, and because it's Christmas, and no one should be alone on the holidays, even if they hate them." Addison gets out of the car and helps Charlotte out. When the petite blonde gets to her feet, her ankle buckles a little underneath her. "Ow! Shit!"

Addison fast realizes that Charlotte's not going to be able to walk up the stairs. "Just a second." She pulls out her BlackBerry and dials a number. "Hey, Sam. I've got a bit of a problem, here – can you come out?"

In about a minute, Sam is hurrying down the steps of his house. "Charlotte King?"

"Yeah. She's hurt her ankle, and I'm not sure I can get her up the stairs. I'm not in the habit of leaving people out in the rain, so I wondered if you could give her a hand."

Charlotte stands defiantly in front of Sam. "I don't need help, Bennett."

"Right," Sam drawls in his deep voice. "Come on." He picks her up gently, ignoring her cry of surprise. "It's cold out here tonight."

Charlotte unwillingly puts her arms around his neck and closes her eyes so that she doesn't have to be in this situation. Addison and Sam exchange small talk as Addison fumbles with her keys and switches on her outside lights. Immediately, a tasteful design of white and blue Christmas lights illuminates the porch, and Charlotte can't help but smile. "Pretty."

"I thought so." Addison drops her keys in the bowl beside the door and watches as Sam lets Charlotte down gently. "Do you want me to look at that ankle?" he asks.

"No. It's fine." Charlotte hobbles to Addison's couch and sinks down onto it with a sigh. "I think it's just sprained."

Sam ignores her and bends down, gently palpitating Charlotte's ankle. Tears come to Charlotte's eyes as he twists it gently. "Ow, Sam!"

"That hurts, I know. Shh." He places it back on the floor. "You're right; it's sprained, but it's pretty badly sprained. You'd better stay here tonight." He rises and looks at Addison. "Have a great Christmas, Addie. You too, Charlotte."

"I hate Christmas!" Charlotte calls after him as he leaves the house. Addison purses her lips at Charlotte sympathetically. "I'll get you some ice. Do you want something to put on?"

"Yeah." Charlotte nods. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I'm actually glad you're here."

"Why?" Charlotte is honestly confused. "I'm wrecking your holiday with my Christmas hate, and you're someone who likes everything to be perfect."

Addison sits on the couch beside Charlotte and puts an arm around her shoulders. "I like everyone to be happy, too. And spending Christmas alone is miserable, even if you hate it."

Without really knowing why, Charlotte cuddles into Addison, leaning her head on her shoulder. "You're right."

"I know."

Where are you, Christmas?
Do you remember
The one you used to know?
I'm not the same one
See what the time's done
Is that why you have let me go?

Because Charlotte is stiff and sore, Addison helps her undress for bed. Charlotte groans as Addison gently unzips her skirt and eases it off. Her hip is swollen and bruised under the waistband of her panties. Addison clucks her tongue. "Oh, my God."

Charlotte sits on the bed as Addison gets the Polysporin. "It's scraped up. This, at least, might help it heal a little. You're lucky you didn't break your hip."

"Yeah." Charlotte gasps a little as Addison rubs the Polysporin on the sore area. "That stings, Montgomery!"

"You'll live," Addison replies, but lightens her touch a little. "So, I'm curious about something."

"What can you possibly need to know about me that you don't already?" Charlotte's cheeks are red with embarrassment as Addison helps her take her blouse off and slip on pajamas.

"Well, I don't know why you hate the holidays so much." Addison's voice is casual, but she's watching Charlotte out of the corner of her eye and she isn't surprised to see the girl's face set stubbornly. "That's none –"

"None of my business, I know." Addison sighs. "But you're already bitter about so many things in your life. Why Christmas, too?"

Charlotte sits up a little, carefully moving the waistband of her pajama pants over her sore hip. "I don't expect you to understand what it's like to have an abusive childhood, Addison. But I did, and suffice it to say, we didn't really have great Christmases, all right?"

Addison bristles. "You really don't know anything about me, so I wouldn't make that assumption, either, Charlotte."

Charlotte sighs and crawls under the covers. "My parents got drunk shortly after we'd opened the presents. Christmas was fun until the last piece of wrapping paper had been cleaned up by the maid, who, by the way, never got a Christmas with her own family. Then, we would try to get out of my parents' way while they fought about the cost of Christmas beside the tree. Sometimes, if we didn't leave fast enough, we'd get yelled at for opening presents that were apparently too expensive. We'd also get glasses thrown at us, or backhanded."

Addison crawls into bed beside Charlotte and wraps her arms around the blonde's shaking shoulders. "Oh, sweetie."

"One Christmas, I thought it was going to be okay. It snowed, and you know, it rarely does that in Georgia, but it seemed like it was a good thing. Christmas morning went perfectly; I even stopped worrying about what would happen afterwards. Daddy had gotten this really beautiful blue spruce, and Mama put white lights all over it. Most of our ornaments were broken, but she'd saved a few of the heirloom ones. It was just so beautiful."

Charlotte's voice breaks and she cuddles in closer to Addison, comforting herself with the redhead's warmth and sweet scent. Addison rocks her a little bit, kissing the top of her head. "Okay."

"Daddy got given this bottle of gin for Christmas from one of his colleagues; he opened it halfway through the presents. It was nine AM, and he opened the gin. Mama tried to take it away from him, and he hit her, and they knocked over the Nativity scene on the coffee table, and I just ran. I spent the day hiding under the bed; I didn't even come out to go to the bathroom, so I ended up having an accident. I was just too afraid to see what else would happen. I just couldn't stand to have another Christmas go to hell."

Addison strokes her hair. "No wonder you hate the holiday."

"We never looked forward to Christmas. Christmas Eve should have been a time of anticipation, and for us? We lay awake dreading the next morning."

"But things are different now, aren't they?"

"Who do I spend Christmas with? I have a cat, but that's it. When I was married, we had a small celebration with my husband, but he was an alcoholic as well, so I made sure that I was never around for his sloppy teary renditions of the latest Christmas ballad." Charlotte's voice is starting to sound more satirical as opposed to teary, so Addison allows herself a laugh. Charlotte laughs a little, too, and turns to face Addison.

"Thanks again."

"You don't have to be scared of anything here. Christmas isn't evil. I promise."

Charlotte's eyes soften. "Why do you always seem to care so much about me?"

"Because you're little, and prickly, and annoying, and because you seem to need someone to care about you so that we can see the softer side underneath."

Charlotte leans forward and kisses Addison, without even thinking. The redhead's lips are soft and her breath is warm, and she lets it happen like it's something normal, which erases any awkwardness the moment may carry. Addison closes her eyes and tangles her fingers in Charlotte's soft blonde hair.

When they break apart, Charlotte's cheeks are flushed and Addison is smiling. "Mm. Merry Christmas to us."


I feel you Christmas
I know I've found you
You never fade away
The joy of Christmas
Stays here in silence
Fills each and every heart with love.

Addison falls asleep with her arms around Charlotte, but not before she sneaks out after the blonde is asleep to call Sam and Naomi, who are spending Christmas at Sam's house with Maya.

"Can you come over after you're done opening presents? Just for a little while?"

"Sure, Addie. What's up?" Naomi sounds sleepy, but pleased enough to hear from Addison. "By the way, I heard you have Charlotte King staying with you. Um . . . why?"

"Because she's hurt and little and only about five years old, and everyone deserves a good Christmas. And that's why I'm calling. Can you come over for a little while? Just to celebrate for an hour or so?"

"Sure we can, Addie."

Addison smiles. "Thank you so much. It means a lot to me, and it will mean a lot to Charlotte, too."

"Okay." Naomi sounds confused, but best friends don't always ask questions.

After calling Cooper, Pete, and Dell (Violet is spending her Christmas upstate), Addison crawls back into bed with Charlotte and spends a moment admiring the smooth curve of the girl's cheek and the fan of her eyelashes on her cheeks. Charlotte looks like a child when she's sleeping, and she murmurs and cuddles into Addison as the redhead settles beside her.

The next morning, the rain is still pouring down, but the house is open and bright and warm. Charlotte wakes up to an empty bed and the smell of coffee and cinnamon downstairs. Her ankle is a little less swollen, but she still hobbles badly and Addison, hearing her uneven footsteps, meets her on the stairs. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," Charlotte replies, and smiles. "I suppose you have something cooked up for us downstairs?"

"Maybe." Addison's eyes are sparkling. "Come on, be careful." She holds Charlotte's hands as the blonde steps carefully down the stairs. When she arrives in the kitchen, the Oceanside gang is grouped around Addison's island, joking and complaining and sipping cups of coffee. The tree is bright and beautiful, presents piled beneath it. There's Christmas music on the stereo, and a smell of cinnamon toast in the kitchen. Charlotte almost feels like turning her face into Addison's shoulder, so surprised is she, but the whole group smiles at her and she can't help but smile back.

"You fools are all into this Christmas thing, aren't you?" She grins back, a little shyly, at them all.

"I guess I can see why." She takes a cup of coffee and smiles at Cooper as he helps her into a chair. "This is pretty special."

"It's all in who you spend it with." Addison smiles at Charlotte and sits down beside her. "And we figured you deserved something great."

Maybe Charlotte doesn't hate Christmas so much, after all.

Where are you, Christmas?
Fill your heart with love.