Characters: Abby, Tim, Jack and…. ??

Setting: A few months after the last chapter, which puts the date round about Christmas 2009.

A/N: I'm just exorcising (no, this time I meant to spell it that way!) some plot bunnies… I plan to spend tomorrow morning and all day Thursday working on Blood Moon,and have at least one chapter up by the weekend.

I'm not sure exactly where this story arc is going, although I expect it to be a couple of chapters and have at least one or two little Janto moments.

Rating: K+ / Fluff

Chapter Four: Surprises

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A black Christmas tree. A seven foot tall, black Christmas tree. A seven foot tall black Christmas tree standing in front of the huge bay window, perfectly framed by the red velvet drapes that hung around the window. A seven foot tall black Christmas tree decorated with skulls on red ribbons and green glass globes.

Tim shook his head as he carefully draped shiny red and gold garland into place; he would have preferred to put the garland on first as anyone who had ever put up a Christmas tree knew perfectly well you were supposed to, but by the time he got home, Abby already had the tree assembled and decorated with skulls and globes. He wouldn't have minded taking it down and started over, but she was due at the Hub for an over-nighter in an hour and she wanted to see the tree all decorated before she left.

He wondered if Ianto had to make similar compromises. God knew Jack wasn't ever going to win any awards for his organizational skills.

"You don't have to be that precise, Timmy," Abby scolded, coming out of the kitchen with a couple of mugs of hot chocolate.

He shot her a look.

"Ok, ok, sheesh… when I said you could stay here, I didn't know I was moving in with Felix Unger."

Tim snickered; they really were the odd couple. "Anything you say, Oscar," he snarked right back. It earned him a playful sock on the arm. "There. What do you think?" he asked, standing back to admire his perfectly draped garland.

"I think all it needs is the angel."

He gave her a look. "You bought an angel for the top?" he would have expected something a little more… Abby.

"I brought it from home," she grinned proudly. She'd taken a brief trip back home last month to collect a few things.

Abby brought out the old shoe box from its hiding place under a table. Tim braced himself… home for Abby was New Orleans, voodoo capitol of the United States and known for its all around weirdness… which explained her outward appearance pretty well.

The antique porcelain faced angel in a time-tinted Victorian gown surprised him. "That's beautiful."

"Why thank you, Timothy," she grinned, handing it to him. "In honour of our first Christmas together, I'd like you to put the angle on the tree."

"Really?" it looked like some kind of family heirloom or something.

She flashed that perky Abby-smile, big green eyes sparkling. "Yes. Really."

Tim wasn't quite sure how one dinner had turned into two… three… four… or how her keeping an eye on him until Bobby declared him completely clear of alien angel dust had turned into him moving into Abby's one bedroom flat, or exactly how any of that had led to him putting the angel on the tree in honour of their first Christmas together… but he just wise enough not to ask too many questions.

He reckoned at least part of it was the job. It didn't leave either of them time to date… and what would they talk to anyone else about, anyway? It was little wonder that there was no Rule Number Twelve at Torchwood.

He gave an affectionate smile over his shoulder as he stepped back, the angel placed atop the tree. "Well?"

Abby hit the lights and scurried to plug in the tree… multi-coloured Christmas lights blinked out at them. "Perfect," she declared.

"Perfect," he agreed, sipping his hot chocolate. After all, perfectly crazy was still perfect.

They were both startled by the knock on the door… not that it was that late and not they didn't have at least one neighbour prone to popping over to borrow cups of sugar or tins of tomato paste.

Mindful of the mistletoe hanging just over the door frame in case it was Jack again – Tim didn't particularly want another 'snog' from his boss – he opened the door…

"Oh my GOSH!" Abby hurtled past him, nearly knocking Tony DiNozzo to the ground as she barrelled into him, squeezing tight. "Why didn't you call!"

"Surprise…" he struggled to get the word out. The real surprise was his, at seeing Tim standing in Abby's apartment looking a little too much as if he lived there… neither had mentioned Tim living with Abby in their emails, just that they were working together at some institute or something. He'd glossed over the details.

Abby released her hold and brought Tony inside. "You should've called!" she protested. "I have to work tonight, but if I'd know you were coming, I could have switched with somebody…"

"You have to work tonight?" He questioned. It was nearly nine p.m. What kind of institute was open all night?

"I can go in for you," Tim volunteered.

"You worked all day!"

"The most exciting thing I did today was help Yan go through the files from 1887. It was a pretty dull year."

"You want to visit with Tony too… it's been over a year… oh my gosh, you look so good!" she hugged Tony again. He and Tim exchanged bemused glances; some things didn't change.

"I know you," Tim told her after she'd released her hold on the other man. "You won't be able to concentrate on anything knowing he's in town and you're stuck at work."

"Maybe I could come hang out," Tony suggested hopefully. "It could be like old times… what?" he said to the way Abby was biting her lip.

"I wish you could but…" she looked to Tim for help.

"The boss is pretty strict about that sorta thing." he supplied. "Authorized personal only… "

"Come on, Probie. You guys said you worked at a school or something… right?"

"Erm… not exactly. Torchwood does a lot of… classified stuff," Tim supplied, less than eloquently.

"As if. I've got higher clearance than you."

"In the United States," said Tim.

"You actually have security clearance over here…"

Tim just shrugged. Bragging wasn't his style and even if it was only answering a question, Tony would assume he was bragging if he told him what his clearance actually was. "How long are you here?" he asked instead.

"I've got a couple days shore leave…"

"We can get together tomorrow, then," Tim handed Abby his mug. "I should get going, though. There's a concert at the Centre tonight and traffic is going to be murder."

"Hold on…" she grabbed his arm before he could get away. "I packed a lunch…"

"I… I'll just hit the café," he tried hard not to grimace. The one thing he and Abby couldn't compromise on was food. He'd rather have Jack's chilli than some of the things Abby put into her lunch.

"You have to at least take Myfanwy's chocolate bar," she protested, digging it out of her Happy Bunny lunch pail.

"Abbs, Jack isn't kidding, she's getting fat."

"She is not!"

He sighed and took the chocolate bar from her outstretched hand. "If I loose a finger…"

"You will not loose a finger, don't be so melodramatic."

He rolled his eyes and refrained from commenting that the pterodactyl was very particular about who she liked and who she merely tolerated. He was on the tolerated list.

"I promised Janet I'd have lunch with her tonight," said Abby.

"I'll have lunch with Janet."

"You have to actually talk to her, Timmy. You can't just sit there and stare like you did last time."

"I'll talk to her. I promise. I'll tell her all about… about our Christmas tree and… and… 1887," he said, struggling to come up with anything he could possibly say to an alien who lacked the capacity for complex communication.

Abby heaved a sigh. "I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear about 1887," her tone was ripe with sarcasm.

"Well what do you talk to her about?"

"More exciting stuff than that."

"Fine, I'll come up with something, I promise."

"All right, I trust you. You're sure you don't mind?"

"I don't mind."

"You're the best!" she grinned. "Give Jack a kiss for me?"

"Sorry. That you have to do yourself." Chocolate bars for the pterodactyl and lunch with Abby's favourite Weevil he could handle, but there were limits…

"Ok," she drawled. "If Bobby has anything for me to look at, just put it up where I can find it and I'll get to it…unless it's important, then you should call me. Oh… and I was going to run a system wide diagnostic tonight. I've got the program set up, all you really have to do is hit run…"

"I think I can handle a diagnostics program, Abbs," he assured her.

"If anything looks hinky, call me… me, not Mickey. Me. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Good." She pulled him into a kiss that left bright red lipstick on his lips. "See you later."

"Hey… I ah… I'll at least walk you to your car," Tony volunteered.

"Sure." Tim grabbed his coat. He knew Tony was going to cram a thousand questions into the next five minutes…