"Oh, no. No, you didn't."

Cristina's disbelieving voice floats through the room and Izzie looks up to see the petite Asian resident standing at the door of Meredith's living room. "Izzie, no!"

"No what?" Izzie gets up and dusts the sparkles from the garland she's tacking up over the fireplace off her jeans. "Whether you like it or not, Cristina Yang, it's Christmas time. And I think we need some holiday cheer."

"You think," grumbles Cristina, flopping on the couch. "All of this hurts my eyes."

Meredith pokes her head in. "I'd hoped that if I stayed away, the Christmas frenzy would have ended."

"Where are your holiday spirits?" Addison stands at the door, holding a tray of cookies. "Maybe some sugar will sweeten you up."

"Well, I never say no to cookies," says Cristina, sort of mollified. Meredith takes one, too. "I thought I said no Christmas crap this year, Iz."

"I know that's what you said. I pretended deafness through that conversation." Izzie is now stringing lights on the large blue spruce standing at the window of the living room. "I don't understand how all of this doesn't put you in a good mood."

Addison sighs. "Sometimes people don't always think about Christmas in the same way you do, sweetie."

"Yeah. I mean, what's there to be happy about? It just reminds me of my messed-up life." Meredith grumbles and points at a wreath. "That? That reminds me of my dead mother."

"Dead father," Cristina puts in, pointing at a smiling Santa.

"Dead relationship," Meredith adds, pointing at a figurine of two snowmen kissing.

"My dead relationship," Cristina mumbles, slumping against the couch cushions. Addison winces and looks over at Izzie, whose face has fallen. "Oh, Iz. They're just being humbugs. Don't look like that."

Meredith looks contrite. "She knows how we feel, Addison."

Addison rubs Izzie's shoulders and George comes in. "Okay. Santa went on a bender again this year?"

"Shut up, George," all four women murmur, and he backs off. "Well, is there at least alcohol to combat all of this?"

Izzie silently points at the rum on the sideboard and he pours himself a healthy measure. "So, Christmas."

"Yeah." Cristina's voice is bitter. "This is why I'm Jewish."

"No, you're Jewish because your stepdad was," Meredith grumbles back, and kicks at a piece of stray fake snow. Izzie's face is completely pouty, and Addison can't stand it, so she claps her hands.

"Enough, you guys! So you hate Christmas. You and a million other people. But Izzie's just trying to do something nice for you and you're ruining it all. Can't you pretend at least for an hour or so?"

Izzie shoots Addison a grateful look. "Thanks, Addie."

George kicks his shoes off. "Okay, sure. Just keep the alcohol coming."

"Amen," Meredith murmurs.

The candles flicker over the hearth; the lights are glittering and colourful, and everyone's sprawled out on the couch, watching the fire.

"What's your favourite Christmas memory?" Izzie asks the question and is immediately deflated a little by Cristina's gimlet gaze. "Okay, okay. Your favourite holiday memory. Jeez."

Meredith fiddles with her fingers and then sips at her spiked eggnog. "I was five, I think. It was just before Thatcher left. We had a tree, right in this room – about the same place. I was sitting under it and playing in all the presents, and then my mother came in the room, but instead of yelling at me, like she normally did, she let me open one small present, and it was this locket." She touches the locket around her neck. "I've always tried to remember that through all the bad Christmases that followed."

George goes next. "My brothers and I would wake up early on Christmas morning and we'd have to try to be quiet until at least six AM, but no matter how I tried to sleep, they'd always end up in my room bouncing on the bed. One Christmas, we sat against the wall and watched the sun rise and talked about the presents we thought we'd get. It was one of those peaceful moments that made me get to know my brothers a little better."

Cristina coughs. "We had Hanukkah. It was never that fun. I preferred when I used to sneak away with my friends to see Santa Claus. If my stepdad had known, he would have been so angry, but I was happy to participate in the same holiday the rest of my friends were celebrating, even for a moment."

Izzie leans against Addison's chest and listens to the redhead speak. "Sledding. We'd go sledding every Christmas Eve, in the evening before midnight mass. We hated to be called in, and I can remember just going so fast down that hill, it felt like I was flying."

Everyone's silent for a moment and Izzie chews on the edge of a fingernail until Meredith breaks the silence. "What about you, Iz?"

"Tonight."

"What about tonight?" Cristina's voice doesn't have its sharp edge, and for that, Izzie's grateful.

"We're all together; we're all happy just for a moment, and we're all looking forward to the future."

"Cheesy, Iz."

"I know. But it's true."

Just as Izzie finishes speaking, George's gaze wanders to the window. "It's snowing a little."

"It was sleeting on my way back from work. It's been a cold winter so far," Meredith puts in.

"It's just special," Addison whispers into Izzie's hair, and the blonde nods.

"Sometimes, that's all a Christmas needs."