Oh gosh . . . the plot bunnies in my head have turned into a little rabid pack of fangirls squealing for this fiction to be done with. Sad thing is . . . I'm listening to them. Want to start off?

Random rabbit: SAR132-4 owns nothing except her real rabbits and her novel that she really needs to publish or else. ^^ now give me a carrot.

Me: *sigh* Here's a carrot . . .

"Oh there's no place like home for the holidays,

'Cause no matter how far away you roam

When you pine for the sunshine of a friendly face

For the holidays you can't beat

Home sweet home!"

Sergeant Greg Parker of the Strategic Response Unit listened to the station as he drove to the headquarters. It was the same every year it seemed, he tried to call or at least send a card to his son in Dallas, and it always came back "return to sender" unopened, no note back. He barely knew what his son looked like anymore, only the photo he kept on his person all the time gave a slight indication on what Dean Parker looked like.

He sighed and pulled into the parking lot of headquarters, he should be happy, it was the last day of work before he went on break, but he couldn't seem to relax and enjoy the air around him. A lot had happened in the last two years, from him going to Dallas to Jules getting shot on the job. From Lou dying and Greg Parker, hostage negotiator extraordinaire, having to be negotiated out of a situation. He parked his car and sat there for a few moments, he had sent his son and ex-wife yet another card this year, he had an idea what was going to happen next.

Getting out of the car and stepping into the cold December air, Greg took a deep breath and went from civilian mode to cool pants mode. Keeping the peace among his team mates and the bad guys was a superhuman feat, but he was up for the challenge.

"Morning Sarge," Winnie, the station receptionist, greeted as she filed documents and took phone calls.

"Good morning Winnie," Greg gave her his trademark smile, the kinds that most fathers give to their children.

"You have some mail here," Winnie said as she handed him a stack of letters, some of them were just plain junk. A holiday sale at Hudson Bay Company, not like he ever shopped there anyway . . . A coupon for Macy's, Sears, and some hockey store in Toronto. Greg didn't play hockey, he could barely skate, but he knew a certain democratically elected team leader who loved it . . . finally, near the bottom of the stack, below a letter from Tim Hortons offering half off on all beverages until New Years, he saw a red stamp on a home sent letter. "Return to Sender" seemed to be carved into his heart, the red ink seemed to be his own blood.

"Something wrong Sarge?" Winnie asked as she saw her boss staring at the same letter for five minutes.

Greg looked up, concealing his shock and sadness in his face, he nodded and forced a smile, "Nope, just the way it always is . . ." he said and walked off to the locker room to get changed.

On his way there, he saw Leah and Jules entering the locker room, Jules smiled, "Hey Sarge!"

Leah greeted him as well, "Morning Boss."

"Morning ladies," Greg said back, Leah and Jules had grown really close since Leah joined, he was a little more than worried about the situation the first day Leah was on the job. Jules looked like she was about to kill the guy taking down the "Jules" sign on the door and replace it with "Women". And then when Leah offered her condolences and help at the briefing, Jules had abruptly replied, "No, we're good."

Now these two were almost sisters. It was a bad thing that Team One had suffered the loss of a team member, but a good thing to gain a new member who more or less brought the "family" closer together. He smiled to himself and opened the door to the men's locker room.

Upon entering the locker room, Greg smelled something, of course men's locker rooms always smelled of something, but this time, it was a scent of freshly baked cookies. Spike's locker door was open, he and Wordy seemed to be munching on something and even Sam went by the locker and grabbed something from within it.

Greg cleared his throat rather loudly.

"Morning boss!" Wordy greeted cheerfully, Spike grinned and waved.

"Morning Sarge," Sam said as he laced up his boots and then joined Spike and Wordy by the locker.

"Did some baking last night Constable Scarlatti?" Greg asked and Spike's face lit up.

"Yeah, a Scarlatti secret family recipe passed down for several generations," his voice trailed off mysteriously.

"AKA, several packages of Nestle cookie dough," Wordy interjected and got slapped up on the head by Spike.

"Don't tell him the secret!" Spike argued playfully, he took the tin of cookies out of his locker, "Want one Sarge?"

Greg smiled and put up his hand in defeat, "Okay, okay, I'll take one," he said and took a chocolate cookie out of the tin.

"Oh, and Merry Christmas Sarge!" Spike handed him a small box that was wrapped in festive wrapping paper.

Greg chuckled and pulled at the paper, Spike was practically jumping up and down, "Open it!"

Greg opened the gift, revealing a red and white stripped tie, "A tie, thanks Spike."

"What's going on here?" a different voice spoke up, it belonged to Constable Ed Lane, he had just gone through the door, "And why does it smell like someone baked in here?"

"Cookie?" Spike offered as Ed stared at him with his piercing gaze, Spike laughed nervously.

Ed took one from the tin, and Spike handed him a small package, "Merry Christmas Ed!"

The team leader opened the package and blanched, "When did you get season tickets to the Maple Leafs?!"

"My father won it in a sweepstakes, but he was more interested in the life time supply of Timmies than season tickets. So did you like it? Did you like it?!" Spike asked excitedly.

"I see where the life time supply of Timmies came in . . ." Ed noticed Spike was more hyper than usual, and that was saying something.

"What are you guys doing for the break?" Spike asked to the locker room.

"Well, my daughters have discovered the world of the Easy Bake Oven, so I bet you know what we're doing over break . . ." Wordy said happily, he slammed his locker door shut.

"I loved the Easy Bake Ovens as a kid . . ." Sam blurted out, catching the attention of all the guys in the room. His face turned bright red in embarrassment as everyone stared at him.

"Easy Bake Oven? Seriously?!" Spike asked, a smile playing at his lips.

Sam stuttered in indignation, "I had a sister, it looked interesting so I tried it!"

"What ever you say Sam. . . what ever you say . . ." Spike said laughter erupted from the other teammates.

"Alright, alright, enough fun at Sam's expense," Greg said in a placating tone. The locker room silenced except for a few concealed guffaws from Spike and Wordy.

Spike grabbed his cookie tin and walked out of the locker room with Wordy, he seemed fine, even when he had faced the death of his friend. Team One was still with him, as a family. Ed was on good terms with his son, they were spending time together more and more, Ed would always feel a little separate from his family, but they were always there for support.

Unlike Greg, who had a girlfriend, but still missed his son. All he wanted was to see Dean again, just one more time, it'd provide closure to him and it'd show him that he didn't go wrong in raising his son at least.

"What's up with you?" Ed asked Greg as they walked out of the locker room, he took a closer look, "Something's wrong."

Ed was Greg's best friend, they were partners, and Ed knew when something was up with Greg and vice versa. "They sent back my letter, not even read, just automatically returned to sender."

"Then go to Dallas and tell them you want to see them," Ed stated with conviction, "Show them that you care."

"Last time I did that, they didn't even answer the door Ed," Greg shook his head sadly, "I just wish . . . one more time, I could see my son."

"Then keep going back to Dallas until they open the door, you have a week off, take a vacation, clear out your head and visit your son," Ed told Greg as they walked into the briefing room, Greg kept silent, but he was thinking about it.

Spike had put the tin of cookies in the middle of the table, everyone had grabbed a few, and calls of "Thanks Spike" sounded around the table.

Greg smiled, putting his brave face on for everyone, this was his family, "Okay, it's day before a nice long holiday break," he said, earning a few cheers from the team, "So let's just stay at the station and hit the gym, hit the firing range and get through this shift."

Everyone piled out of the briefing room, Jules and Leah were talking animatedly about something and Sam followed close behind. Spike and Wordy were discussing plans for the holidays. Ed watched as Greg went up to the front desk and asked Winnie something, Winnie nodded and, "On it Sarge," reached his ears.

Ed turned away and went into the gym, he had a feeling he knew what Greg was doing.

The shift ended peacefully for once, and everyone got changed back into their street clothes and went home as snowflakes silently swirled in the air, Greg filed a report or two and Winnie handed him an envelope.

"Here you go Sarge," she said, "One ticket to Dallas."

"Thanks Winnie," Greg said as he gathered up his things and made his way for the exit, "Have a nice holiday," he said in parting.

"You too Sarge," Winnie called out as he left.

Greg got into his car and drove out of the parking lot and onto the bustling streets, he heard his favorite talk show drifting out quietly through the speakers of the radio, he turned it way down so it was barely a whisper in the car. He drove off to his house to pack and get ready to finally visit his son.

Last note: I'm hoping to update the other fanfictions soon. Especially a certain one about Jules talking down a deaf teen . . .