a/n: Alright, the smell of gingerbread is in the air and your Grandma's yelling for a turkey baster -- you know what that means! Christmas time!!! So, of course, what do you? Run away and cuddle up and read a Christmas fic!!! So, here's my little fic for your enjoyment...Hope you like it!! Thanks to TB for the beta...I'm pretty sure her coworkers weren't happy when I made her snort at the stomach contents thing...

Rumnog and the Perfect Gift

Part One

Christmas Eve. What a great time to be at the lab.

Grissom sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand. Paperwork, paperwork and more paperwork. A scene, he could deal with. Give him something to occupy his mind with. But paperwork? Oh no, paperwork was like the death penalty…and the executioner was Ecklie. The sudden image popped into his head of Ecklie in a traditional executioner's costume and he couldn't help but laugh. Ecklie in black leather – if the noose didn't kill you, the sight would.

Smiling to himself, he put the pen back down to the paper, chuckling a little.

"And what, may I ask, is so funny?"

He looked up to see Catherine walking into his office, her bag in one hand, her other behind her back. She was smiling, obviously glad to see him smile, a sight that had been becoming more frequent in the past few months.

"You don't even wanna know…" he said, trying to stop himself from laughing again. Catherine just smiled and nodded, having no idea what was going on inside his head. She usually didn't.

"Ohhhkay... Well, I'm just gonna leave then. Shift's over and Lindsey's waiting for me," she said, leaning her hands on the back of one of the chairs in front of his desk, "I don't know how much work you've got there, but you're welcome to drop by later if you want…"

Catherine's offer was nice, but he knew that she was really asking him if he was okay being alone on Christmas. She did this every year, and he rarely complied. One year, he had. But it was a little awkward after Lindsey had gone to bed. Catherine and her boyfriend had had a little too much wine and apparently thought that Grissom couldn't see the man's hand groping her ass. After that, Grissom decided to decline her offer.

"Nah, I'll be here awhile. Anyway, you and Lindsey could use some alone time. Break out the Hungry Hippos or something," Grissom said, signing the bottom of the sheet with a flourish. Getting to the bottom of a page gave him such satisfaction that he couldn't help but do it.

"Gil, she's almost fourteen."

'Trivial Pursuit, then."

"I don't even own a Trivial Pursuit," Catherine said, giving him a skeptical look.

"See that's the thing. Kids these days only play those DVD games. Those Scene It thingys where all you have to do is yell at the TV...Crazy. It's not very stimulating for teens to be playing, actually. You should think about getting a good old Trivial Pur--"

"Why are we talking about this again?" Catherine interrupted him. Grissom had been rambling. Grissom only rambled to get off-topic, and he only went off-topic to get away from something he didn't want to talk about. And Catherine liked finding out what Grissom didn't want her to find out.

"You sure you don't want to come over? Or do you have plans…" She said slyly. Grissom didn't look up at her. He couldn't force himself to. He could feel heat creeping up from his collar and his throat got scratchy.

Damn, I'm a bad liar…Don't. Say. Anything, he commanded himself, the easiest form of deception is to not lie, but to simply omit from telling the truth…

Oh, Grissom did have plans, alright. But telling Catherine anything wasn't one of them

"Catherine. I'm busy. I really just want to get this mountain of paperwork finished so that I can go home and enjoy my usual rum and eggnog. And right now, you're the only thing stopping me from doing that. So, Merry Christmas, and to you a good night," Grissom said, still not looking at her. He was pretending to read the sheet, but all he saw was a random jumble of words.

"Whoa, Grinch much?" She laughed. She then proceeded to pull a glass from behind her back and place it on his desk, the normally yellow liquid tinged with amber sloshing against the sides of the glass. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Let's just say that the jar in the experiments fridge labeled "Kathleen Elm's Stomach Contents" isn't what Ecklie thinks it is. Merry Christmas, Gil…" She said, laughing as she headed for the door. Grissom picked up the rum and eggnog with a chuckle and raised it to her back.

"Cheers."

An hour and a half later, he'd finished both the paperwork and his drink. The paperwork in record time…the drink? Not so much. He was early. That was good. Very good. Rubbing his hands together, he left his office and locked the door. He was a man on a mission.

"Hey, Gil!" He heard a familiar voice shout as he left the lobby. He rolled his eyes and turned to see Brass jogging after him.

"Hey, Jim. I was just on my way out…" Grissom said, trying to shuffle towards the door. Brass followed, obviously missing the hint.

"Don't tell me you were gonna leave without saying Merry Christmas. C'mon, let's go out for a drink or something, eh buddy?" He said excitedly. Grissom groaned internally.

How come everyone feels sorry for me on Christmas Eve?

"Uhh, actually I have somewhere to be, Jim. Thanks for the offer though. I should be going…give Ellie a call this year, will ya?"

Brass smiled.

"She's waiting at home."

Grissom was surprised to hear that. Every year he chided Brass to call his daughter, but he rarely did. He never saw the point in it because she never used to call back. The knowledge that she was in Vegas for Christmas with her father brought a genuine smile to his face.

"Good to know. Merry Christmas, Jim."

Brass stopped as they got out in the parking lot. He watched for a minute as Grissom headed to his car, but was surprised when he passed the light blue Mercedes-Benz and walked out of the parking garage. It was then that he shook his head and realized how truly odd his old friend was.

The air was a little cold this time of year. It was no Arctic, but there was a definite chill that Grissom could feel through his thick jacket. He wouldn't be outside long; only a few more blocks and he'd be there. He hadn't felt like driving. Sometimes a good crisp walk is all you need to clear your head.

Letting out a small sigh, he plodded along down the sidewalk, thinking about what he was going to do tonight. He felt something cold on his ear, and then his hand. Looking up, he saw a small white flake drift down and land on his eyelash.

It was snowing.

The last time he'd seen snow in Vegas had been…Gosh, it had been at lease six or seven years. And all it had done then was remind him of the ski trip he'd taken with his family when he was eight and his father had helped him build a snowman.

Oh yes, that was right. That was the Christmas six years ago when he'd woken up to find a whole bottle of Chivas Regal missing…and he found it in quite and unpleasant manner shortly thereafter. But now, something about seeing the little white flakes drift down lazily, illuminated brightly by the lights of the city, he couldn't help but feel a little bit of affection for it.

By the time he had gotten to his destination, Grissom realized that he was humming to himself. What Christmas song, exactly, he didn't know. But it was a Christmas song nonetheless.

Since when have I hummed Christmas songs? He wondered, opening the glass door. But he had no more time to ponder as a sales representative attacked him the moment he stepped onto the deep red carpet.

"Hello sir, how may I help you today?" A perky young man in a tailored outfit said. Grissom internally cursed sales commission.

"I'm just here to pick something up…Could you tell me where I'd go for that?" The young man smiled (oh so phony) and told Grissom where Customer Services was and proceeded to pounce on the next guy who came through the door.

Grissom walked slowly through the store, squinting at the merchandise and watching people do last minute shopping. Very last minute. In fact, 9:00pm on Christmas Eve was about as late as it got. He was really glad that he'd been able to get Swing Shift for tonight.

"Ahh. Mr. Grissom," came an older man's deep voice from behind the counter, "You're lucky, it came in just in time…" The man handed him a velvet bag and smiled. Grissom felt the texture of the purple material for a moment, staring at it. He barely looked back up at the man before leaving.

"Perfect…"

He figured he had a half hour to spare by his schedule. It was still snowing as he walked down the street. His hand rubbed against the velvet in his pocket, his brain running so fast that he forgot how cold he was. He still needed some more time to think, time to be alone.

He knew exactly where to go.

He kept his eyes on the ground, watching as little pieces of snow collected in the cracks of the sidewalk. His feet just knew where to go and before he knew it, he was standing in front of the solid oak doors, music drifting to his ears from the small open window to the left of him.

Grissom didn't regularly go to church. He wasn't one of those people who go at just Christmas and Easter, either. He just went on impulse. He didn't go to pray when he needed something, and he didn't go when he felt guilty. He could talk to God at home. God, he believed in. Church, not so much. But, in keeping with family traditions, he went every so often to think.

Entering quietly, he sat in the back like he usually did. As a small young people's choir rang for a small audience, he thought about the year that was soon to pass. He'd changed a lot since last Christmas. His habits, his attitude and his life outside of work…he was different. And he had to admit, as hard as it had been to change; he liked how he was now.

Practicing what he was going to say and do in his head, Grissom played with the soft velvet in his pocket until he realized what he was doing and stopped, afraid that he would worry the fabric to rags.

He sat there, listening to the voices swirling around him and the candles and dim lights casting shadows across marble floors until he realized what time it was. He only had fifteen minutes to get back home. Looking to his left, he saw a small blonde boy sitting in the pew, playing with his hat. Grissom smiled to himself, reminded of 'Home Alone'. He reached into his pocker and pulled out the candy cane that Greg had given him earlier. He slid it along the bench so it hit the boy in the thigh. When he looked up, Grissom winked, and then he was gone.

a/n: Reviews are like Christmas presents!! So get into the giving and reciveing mood and tell me what you thought...I'd honestly like to know! Even if its to tell me what you want for Christmas, just do it. (Personally, some train tickets to Providence would have a welcome place under my tree, but that's just hopeful wishing...lol). Thanks for reading and happy (non-commion & non-violent) Christmas shopping!!

Oh, and I'll post Part Two later on this week hopefully.