As the snow falls from the darkening sky over them, Emma and Ludwig walk through the streets of New York, arms linked together lovingly like any other couple outside and Christmas music playing softly in the air from all the shops around them while they argue good-naturedly.

"You needn't be so stoic all the time, Ludwig! You've known Lovino for longer than I have, and you always act so stiff in front of him. I can't help but laugh, sometimes." The steely man in question colours faintly in embarrassment.

"I can't help it," he protests, "it's how I've been taught to act from my grandfather and my brother. Not that Gilbert necessarily practices what he preaches," he mutters drily.

Emma lets out peals of laughter and stands taller to kiss her lover's cheek, shaking her head lovingly, her perfect curls bouncing with the slight movement. "I love you all the same."

As they head to Fifth Avenue, she asks, "What time is it, lovely?"

"Nearly five," Ludwig answers after checking his wristwatch, leading them both around the corner to their destination.

"Ooh, perfect! That leaves us with enough time to freshen up for diner after we're done," Emma exclaims. "I'd hate to look dreadful for our outing, especially on Christmas Eve." Ludwig smiles softly, stopping in front of a building.

"You never look dreadful, darling." Emma pushes off of him playfully.

"Oh, stop it, you, you'll make me blush and that's no good for our job." She peers at the address written on the brick wall next to the entrance door, whistling lowly in approval. "Number thirty-three, is it? Well, this one's loaded. Their door is made of oak!"

Ludwig smiles in amusement. "Expert in the value of doors now, are we?"

She turns back towards Ludwig, playfully sticking her tongue out at him before grinning mischievously. "Hush, you. We'll definitely get a good sum out of this job. And don't forget," she adds, repeatedly poking Ludwig's chest for emphasis, "no mess, you."

"Never," the German replies. "You remember our back-story?" They move in unison up the steps leading to the front door.

"But of course! I've got my lines down to a T. I'm the next Ingrid Bergman," she teases as she knocks on the door twice.