Thank you to my kind reviewers! Glad you're enjoying the story. Here's a quick update for you all xx

Staten Island – December 1997

Christmas, what a joke, Mike thought to himself as he booked the prisoner into the holding area. A time for families to be together. Or for husbands to beat the crap out of their wives. He slammed the door of the cell shut and walked back into the squad room. Darkness had already fallen on this Christmas Eve and he was already an hour past his quitting time. Just when he had thought he would be able to finish on time, the call had come in and he had raced off to save a damsel in distress. So it went in the Domestic Dispute Squad in the 128th. He had felt sorry for the woman when he had seen her, her face all bruised, but she hadn't exactly been cooperative with them and he knew it wasn't the first time her husband had been arrested, so his sympathy had waned slightly at her protestations that she didn't want him arrested.

"Punk ass bastard," his partner, Tony Boyer, said throwing his notebook onto his desk. "Couldn't he at least have waited until later tonight before punching her? Then someone else could have caught this case. Now we gotta spend the next hour writing up the book before we can hand this guy over." He slumped down into his seat, clearly unhappy at the turn the evening had taken. "It's Christmas Eve for Christ's sake!"

"Yeah well," Mike said, sitting down at his own desk opposite. "Later tonight he might have killed her."

"I figured you'd prefer that. Give you a homicide to investigate, seeing as you go on about them so much."

"I do not."

"Oh, Jesus, Mike you do," Tony said, shaking his head. "And trust me, it's getting old."

Mike stared at his partner of less than three months with half a mind to do to him what their prisoner had just done to his old lady. Two years he'd been on this beat, and Boyer was his third partner. It was starting to take on a familiar regularity. Max Greevey, Phil Cerreta, Penny Fletcher, Lennie Briscoe, not to mention the two rookies he'd had on Staten Island to begin with...he looked out of the window at the familiar, and somewhat torturing, lights of the city skyline and wondered what Penny was going to do this Christmas, the first since their divorce had been finalised six weeks earlier. No doubt she would be spending it with her mother and sister in Long Island and they would all talk about what a loser he was. Last year they had been on the brink of separation, holding it together long enough to get over the festivities, but he knew that if he had told himself back then where he would be now, he still wouldn't have believed it.

"Damn it, this is going to take forever!" Tony exclaimed, rolling a piece of paper into a ball and lobbing it into the trash can beside his desk. "I got Judy at home bending my ear about being home for the kids and my in-laws arriving from Salt Lake City in the morning...I do not need this!"

"Go home, "Mike said. Tony looked up. "I mean it, go home to your family. I'll write it up. It's not as if it needs two of us to note down that he punched her in the face."

"What's the catch?"

"There is no catch. It's Christmas and you got a family, so go."

Tony got to his feet and grabbed his jacket, "Thanks, Mike. I owe you one."

"Yeah..." Mike said, watching him race out of the practically deserted squad room. "Whatever." Any other year he would have been just like Tony, desperate to get out of work as quickly as possible, even last year. This year...well, it wasn't as if anything or anyone was waiting for him at his apartment.

He was almost finished writing up his DD5 when he heard his boss's door at the far end of the room open. "Don't you have a home to go to?" He looked up to see Stolper, watching him and realised, with a start, that he was the only other person left in the squad room, no doubt preventing his Lieutenant from leaving himself.

"I just got to finish this first."

"I saw Boyer leave."

"Well, he's got a family waiting for him." Mike tried to concentrate on what he was doing, but a shadow fell over his desk and he looked up into the other man's face. "I don't need your pity, Lieu."

"I wasn't going to give you it," Stolper said, as though the thought offended him. "But I know this is your first Christmas without Penny and I was just going to ask what your plans were for the next two days."

"Television...take-out...beer. Before you know it, it'll be December 27th and I'll be back at this desk."

"Logan..."

"Don't," he cut him off, "don't say it."

"You don't know what I was going to say."

"I can imagine. Look, five minutes and I'll be out of your hair, ok?"

Stolper shrugged before turning away, "Have it your own way."

Have it my own way? Mike thought to himself. If I was having it my own way, this is not the way I would be having it! He raced through the rest of the paperwork, put it in the appropriate basket, lifted his jacket and headed for the front door.

"Night Logan," the desk sergeant said as he passed. "Merry Christmas."

"Yeah," Mike replied, turning his collar up. "Merry Christmas."

Manhattan

Peter Jay's was crowded, but then it was Christmas Eve, a time for celebration. The noise of chatter was almost deafening and the moment he walked inside, Mike regretted going there. If Pete hadn't seen him and started pouring his regular scotch before he had time to react, he would have turned and walked straight back out. Why punish himself? Why sit miserably, alone and depressed, putting a dampner on everyone else's evening? As it was, he pushed his way over to the bar, pulled himself up onto a stool and began attacking the peanuts sitting on the bar. It suddenly dawned on him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"Tough day?" Pete asked, sliding the glass over to him.

"No more than usual," he replied, unwilling to get into a conversation with the bartender. Everyone seemed to want to commiserate with him this year when really, all he wanted was just to be left alone to wallow. Maybe that was the wrong thing to do. Maybe he should look around the bar, start talking to the first hot girl he saw and make a night of it. But his heart wasn't in it. His heart was somewhere else, with someone else. Glancing around, he was struck by just how many couples there in fact were. Holding hands, touching, the occasional kiss...it was almost as if they were mocking him and he was suddenly reminded of a conversation he'd had with Penny over two years earlier.

"Why is it that everywhere I go, all I see is pregnant women, or women with kids? It's almost as if God's trying to mock me!"

"That's not true and you know it. You're just more sensitive to it because of everything's that happened."

"You don't feel it?"

"Of course I feel it, but..."

"But you're more preoccupied with punching elected officials, right?"

"You want another?" Mike glanced up to see Pete pointing at his now empty glass and realised he had drained it in one go without realising it. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of getting completely blitzed. There was no-one to stop him, no-one to caution him that it was Christmas tomorrow, no family to be sober for...

"No," he said finally, the noise of Christmas cheer beginning to grate on him, "I'm going to go."

"Ok," Pete said, "have a good one."

"Yeah you too." Once outside, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and headed towards home. Even all these months later he had to remind himself which way to go, lest he end up back at their old apartment. His new place was all right as far as it went, the neighbourhood was ok, the rent was reasonable and the other residents in the block seemed quiet enough...but there was just something about it that made him almost reluctant to go back there. It wasn't home, not really. Home was where Penny now lived alone. Home was the familiar couch with the sagging seat in the corner, the score mark on the kitchen counter where she had dropped the roasting tray, the bed that just somehow seemed to remember his body shape when he got into it...

"Mike? Mike!" The sound of his name caused him to stop and, turning around, he saw the last person he expected, Penny herself, standing outside a bodega, a brown paper bag in her hand, a large coat and hat shielding her from the icy wind. He felt his heart suddenly slow and then speed up at the sight of her. It was the first time since the day at the lawyer's office.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, walking towards her.

"Just getting some provisions for the next few days," she replied, holding up the bag. "I figured I'd try and be organised this year rather than wake up tomorrow jonesing for corn chips and not be able to get any."

"You're staying in the city?" She nodded. "I figured you'd be going to your Mom's."

"She and her sister have booked themselves onto a cruise this year," Penny replied, "and Louise is spending the holidays with her in-laws in Minnesota."

"You never told me."

She cocked her head on one side, "Why would I?"

He opened his mouth to reply and then stopped. She was right, why would she? They weren't in touch with each other. They were divorced. He had a notarised copy of the documents in his apartment to prove it. "You're right," he said. "Sorry."

"No, I..." she shook her head as if to chastise herself, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it came out." She paused. "How have you been?"

"Fine," he replied carefully. It was the only answer he could give her, even if it was nowhere near the truth. "You?"

"Same. You working over the holidays?"

"No, I got the next two days off, you?"

"I'm on nightshift on the 26th. Briscoe and I kind of drew the short straw what with...well, you know how it is."

"Not having family," he said. "Yeah I know how it is."

She gestured back across the street. "You were in Peter Jay's?"

"Yeah, but it's pretty crowded so I decided to split. You got plans right now beyond the contents of that bag?"

"No," she laughed, "though the corn chips here are really good."

"Listen..." he weighed up whether or not to say it and then decided to go ahead anyway. There was nothing to lose except face. "You want to get some coffee?" He waited for her to be the sensible one, to say no, that it wasn't a good idea, but instead she nodded and, ten minutes later, they were in a corner diner, quieter than the bar but still busy, warm and inviting. Penny shrugged off her coat, hung it on the back of her seat and pulled the hat from her head, fiery locks tumbling down her shoulders. As she ran her hand through her hair, he noticed that her ring finger was bare. "Two coffees please," he told the waitress. "Oh, and two donuts...with sprinkles."

"Two cops, drinking coffee and eating donuts," Penny said. "We're such a cliché."

"It is Christmas."

"Yeah," she paused. "So."

"So."

"Did you catch your barbeque thief?"

"Yeah," he laughed at the memory. "Turned out the wife took it when she left to piss her old man off because he wouldn't give her the candlesticks. Only on Staten Island. What about your murder?"

"The businessman in the car? No, gone cold." She fingered the corner of the menu that sat propped up on the table between them. "It's never good having an unsolved homicide, as you know, but...all our leads dried up pretty quickly. I feel bad for his family. Whatever he was into, and he was definitely into something, they don't deserve what they're going through now, especially at this time of year. Lennie's convinced it was a hit organised by his partner but...

"Since when have you been partnered with Lennie?"

"Since the last few weeks. Rey's had to take some time off to look after his wife. We're getting on ok," she added. "He treats me as if I was his daughter sometimes. Keeps asking me how I am." The waitress put the coffees and donuts down on the table in front of them. "You know, Van Buren all but invited me to her place for Christmas. I think she was worried in case I might slit my wrists."

"Stolper was the same with me," Mike replied, tipping sugar into his cup.

"I guess we should be grateful for bosses who care."

"I guess so." He stirred the liquid slowly. "I paid my half of the lawyer's bill."

"Me too," Penny said. "Wasn't much of a discount, huh?"

"Well, if that was a discount, I'd hate to see what the regular price of a non contested divorce is."

"Yeah..." She took a bite of her donut. "It was kind of weird seeing it all...finalised. When I opened the envelope it was like..."

"I know," he agreed, meeting her gaze. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and brushed a stray sprinkle from the side of her mouth. He felt her tremble slightly before he drew his hand back and a flush of colour ran up her neck and onto her face.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

He licked his finger, "You're welcome."

XXXX

They talked for a good hour about everything and nothing, work mostly, carefully sidestepping any conversation about feelings, good or bad. Mike found himself aching to touch her again, her hand, her arm...not necessarily in a sexual way, but in a comforting way. Despite everything that had happened, she still 'had' him. She probably always would. Eventually, somewhat reluctantly, they left the diner and began walking along the block towards Penny's apartment.

"I'm telling you," he said, "It's A Wonderful Life. Best Christmas movie ever."

"So you've been telling me for years," she rolled her eyes.

"Are you going to watch it?"

"Maybe." She stopped at the security door and turned to face him. "Well..."

"This is you."

"Yeah. It was good to see you," she said genuinely. "I'm...I'm glad you're ok."

He smiled. "You were worried about me?"

"Maybe a little," she replied with a smile before reaching up and kissing him gently on the cheek. "Goodnight Mike."

Before he even realised what he was doing, Mike caught her gently, but firmly, by the arms, causing her to drop the paper bag, pulled her to him and kissed her. For a second she resisted, caught by surprise. Then she responded, sliding her hands around his back, up over his shoulders and into his hair, pulling him tightly to her.

"God, I miss you..." he murmured as they broke apart and he swept her hair away from her face, his lips finding the softness of her neck. She gasped and gripped him tighter to her, then suddenly stiffened.

"Mike..." she tried to pull away but he held onto her, pulling her back into him, resting his forehead against hers, unwilling to open his eyes and face the reality of their situation, a situation that an hour or so in a coffee shop on Christmas Eve couldn't change. "Mike, please..."

He opened his eyes and looked at her, "Just one time," he said desperately, reaching up and cupping her face with his hand, "One time, Pen..." He felt her start to shake and knew that despite everything that they had been through, all the fights, the arguments, the pain, the recrimination...she still felt for him what he felt for her. He wanted her, needed her so badly...if not to make to it right, it not forever, then only just one more time. He could live with that, couldn't he?

"No," she said softly, "we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because...because it wouldn't be just one time, Mikey, and you know that as well as I do. This..." she reached up and stoked his face gently. "This was never our problem."

"Then what was our problem?" he asked. "What was our problem, Penny, because right now...right now, all I want to do is forget it, forget the divorce, forget everything..." he pulled her into him again and kissed her fiercely. Once again, she didn't resist. Once again, she responded to him as if the whole sorry mess had never happened...as if they were a normal couple whose next stop on this cold Christmas Eve was the bedroom.

Breathlessly, she pulled back. "It's too late..."

"No, it isn't..."

"It is!" She broke free from his grip and stepped back. "We're divorced, Mikey! It's over...it's..." she lifted the paper bag from where it had fallen onto the sidewalk and clutched it close to her chest as if for protection. "We shouldn't have had coffee, we should just have...we should just let each other go."

"So, I'm never going to see you again, is that what you're saying?" Mike had known that day at the lawyer's office that that was the sensible thing to do. Seeing her, being with her...it had only re-opened the wound that was trying to heal and dumped a bucket load of salt in it. "We're divorced and that...that's just it?"

"What did you think would happen?" Penny asked. "We would get divorced and then just...just start again?"

"I don't know," he said, "I don't know. I just...all I know is that I love you. And I know that you love me. You couldn't kiss me like that if you didn't." Shaking her head, she moved past him towards the secure door entry. "Penny, please..."

"I never said that I didn't love you," she turned to face him again, tears streaking down her cheeks. "I'll always love you, Mike, but...but we can't do this. We separated for a reason. You need to move on. We both do."

He stood, wordlessly, as she punched in the security code, wrenched open the door and disappeared inside the building. He knew the code, it hadn't changed. All it would take would be for him to follow her inside, up to what had been their home and then...he paused as the idea ran through his head. And then what? Talk her round? Make her see how ridiculous she was being? How a divorce didn't have to mean the end?

"Now who's being ridiculous?" he asked himself. Penny was right. He had to let his marriage go, let her go...move on. Across the street, the door of a bar opened and drunken revellers spilled out, screaming So This Is Christmas at the top of their lungs. He watched as they stumbled and slid on the icy sidewalk, laughing and holding onto one another, then directed his gaze upwards to what had been their living room window. The lights were on, but the shade was pulled down. "Merry Christmas," he said, to no-one in particular, and then turned for home.