CHAPTER 1

"Ho! Ho! Ho! Santa's here!" Nosedive hollered as he, Wildwing and Grin entered the rec room with an enormous Fraser fir in tow.

"That's, uh, quite some tree you got there, guys!" exclaimed Tanya. Great. Was the string of lights she had managed to untangle over the last hour even long enough for that?

"Trees are the earth's endless effort to speak to the listening heavens," said Grin, as he carried the giant evergreen on his shoulder, "And this one is speaking in all caps."

"I'll say! So tell me, where are you plannin' on putting that thing anyways?" asked Duke, carrying in a tray of egg nog.

"Right…" THUD. "Here."

A slew of pine needles sprayed across the room as Nosedive slammed the tree to the floor. Satisfied, he dusted his hands off and stared proudly at their find. "Man, are we gonna fit a lot of presents under this thing!"

"Well, not before we decorate it. Tanya, how are those lights coming along?"

"Duh-uh, almost done, Wildwing," she stuttered, entangled in at least three additional strands of multicolor blinking lights.

"Well hurry up, Girlie-Girl, because I'm ready to deck these halls!" Nosedive was in full holiday regalia - ugly Christmas sweater, reindeer antlers, light up necklace, and shaking a heavy box of ornaments.

Duke settled the tray onto the coffee table and served himself a glass of egg nog. He chuckled to himself at the scene before him - decorating for Christmas! Second year in a row, too. Who would've thought? Puckworld had a similar holiday, Day of DuCaine, where everyone would gather with loved ones, exchange gifts, eat, drink and be merry. Unfortunately, drinking was pretty much the only way Duke celebrated back then as loved ones were few and far between for him. He brushed off the thought and wiped his bill as he got up, taking note of his missing teammate.

"I'll go get Mal. She deserves to suffer with the rest of us."

—-

Mallory sat on her bed, angrily stabbing her remote control with her thumb. Was there anything on that wasn't a sappy made-for-TV Christmas movie? She shut it off and turned her attention to the old shoebox that sat next to her, the one that managed to make it's way out of her closet every December. Why did she subject herself to this torture every year?

"Knock, knock," Duke peeked his head in through the opened circular doorway. Why hadn't she closed it? "Wildwing and the others just got back with the tree and we're gonna decorate it. You also gotta see Dive's ridiculous get-up." He turned at his heel toward the rec room assuming she'd follow.

"That's OK, Duke, I think I'm gonna pass."

Passing on a chance to ridicule Nosedive? Something's wrong. Back in he went.

"You OK, Kid?" he asked thoughtfully.

Mallory looked up at him and sighed, stifling an eyeroll. He wasn't going to let her be until she fessed up - he had already taken post on her sofa, hands clasped and his one eye looking intently at her. With a loud "whoosh," her bedroom door closed at the press of a button. She picked up the box and walked over, dramatically plopping herself down by his side and reclining back, resting booted feet on the coffee table. He followed in suit and she handed him some old photos, one by one.

"My folks. My grandparents. My brothers and I."

Duke half-smiled at five-year-old Mallory pelting her two much larger, much older brothers with snowballs back in Puckworld.

"Always been a little ball-buster, eh?"

She smirked up at him.

"You guys are close." He observed the photos.

"Were."

"Are. You'll see them soon." He nudged her elbow.

"This is our second Christmas on Earth, Duke. I'm not holding my breath." She took the photos back and shuffled them in her hands, her mind wandering. "We moved around all the time and my dad was away a lot but we were always together on Day of DuCaine. Always. Until I joined the Resistance." She arched her head back and stared at the ceiling. "Two years. Doesn't that bother you?" Mallory almost sounded accusatory.

"A little," he answered after a pause, "But to be honest, I didn't have much goin' for me back there, Mal. I didn't have this. At least not for very long." He pointed at the photo of her with parents, her dad carrying her on his shoulders while her mom beamed.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"But I do now," his one eye looking at her, "Sorta, anyways. You guys are the closest thing I've had to a family in a long time and it's kinda nice." Mallory shifted closer to him, her head resting on his shoulder, photos rotating aimlessly through her fingers.

"I guess it could be worse. Nosedive's like everyone's annoying baby brother. Tanya's the wacky aunt." She couldn't hold back her laughter and Duke joined her. "It's still hard, though. And you know what's weird? You know what I miss the most?"

"What's that, Sweetheart?"

"The snow. It's so sunny Anaheim and so… pleasant all the time; it's like a slap in the face every time I go outside. A reminder that we're so far from home. I loved the snow, especially around Day of DuCaine. It made everything seem almost magical." She let her thoughts trail. Did she actually just describe something as "magical?"

"Well, maybe Santa will make it snow for you this year," Duke joked.

"In Anaheim? Yeah, right!"

"Hey, you never know! Santa has ways," a devious look came over his face, "And besides, haven't you been a good girl this year? Come on, whaddya say we help the others downstairs. I made egg nog."

"I think I'll still pass. But thank you… for listening."

"Anytime, Sweetheart." She liked it when he called her "Sweetheart." He seemed to be doing so a lot more as of late, too. In fact, she'd found that she enjoyed his company quite a bit once she got past the denial she masked as trust issues. Wildwing was all business, Nosedive was a pain in the ass, she could barely understand Tanya and Grin was, well, Grin. Despite their age difference, Mallory saw Duke as her equal, intellectually and emotionally. His jaded cynicism coming from years as leader of the Brotherhood of the Blade, hers from strict military training from the time she was sixteen. So it was kind of cute how into the holiday spirit he seemed to be.

"Say, what's your favorite color?"

She thought for a moment before realizing the obvious. "Purple."

"Right." Dumb question, Duke. He stood up. "Well, I'm gonna get goin' and make sure the others stay outta trouble. Don't let yourself get too sad, OK Mally?"

"I'll be fine." He took her hand and kissed it.

He was almost out the door before she called out, "Hey Duke - wait up. What's your favorite color?"

"Hmmm… red." And with another "whoosh," he was out, leaving Mallory a bit baffled, a bit flushed, and a bit amused. Running her fingers through her hair, she reclined back on the sofa and looked again at the photo of her parents.

—

TO BE CONTINUED