A/N: I'm so sorry it's been so long since I updated this one. Life has been insane recently. But... I'M DONE WITH COLLEGE! I graduate in about 3 days, and then I might have a little more time to do writing. Thank you guys so much for sticking with me. I apologize for not sending out some replies for "Excursion" but I really appreciate your input. I hope you guys enjoy my Christmas contribution. It's short, but I think it said all I wanted to say.

Merry Christmas to you all. May your holiday season be blessed with peace and love.

O Tannenbaum

Snow drifted gently from the sky. Fat, white flakes danced and twirled in the cold northern breeze, covering the field in a blanket of pure white. It piled on the branches of the groups of evergreen trees gathered in the small clearing just outside the city.

Mac rubbed his gloved hands together briskly as he walked with Stella toward a group of trees on the far side of the lot. His breath steamed into the air, mingling with hers. She'd managed to convince him to hunt for Christmas trees with her, claiming that it was a Christmas tradition and she wasn't about to break it because of a little snow. Part of him scoffed at little. He didn't exactly call three inches of snow little. Reaching up, he swept some of the snow out of his hair, watching it tumble to the ground in front of him.

If he were to be honest with himself, though, he didn't quite mind being out here in the cold with her. It was almost peaceful. They were away from the city, so there was little traffic noise. Just the soft whisper of the breeze through the trees, just the scent of evergreens mingling with the sweet scent of Stella's perfume. A silent night.

Her quiet voice broke the stillness of the night air. "What do you think about one of those?"

He followed the line of her index finger to a small grouping of trees about forty yards to their left. "Sure."

They continued walking in that direction until they reached the cluster of six or seven evergreens, with boughs bending under the weight of the snow. Then they stopped, silently sizing up each tree.

Stella rubbed her hands together. "What'cha think?"

He glanced at her. Snow clung to her honey-colored curls, and her cheeks were rosy from the cold night air. But her green eyes danced, and he smiled slightly. "You tell me."

Her eyes narrowed into a mock glare. He shrugged his shoulders. "It's your tree."

"Fine," she huffed, a puff of steam coming from her breath. She stepped forward, using her practiced observational skills to carefully study every tree. Reaching out with a gloved hand, she touched a branch on one of them, sending snow plummeting to the ground.

"This one's a little scraggly," she observed.

Mac raised an eyebrow. "Scraggly?" he echoed. "That a new scientific word?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Like gooey."

A chuckle escaped him, remembering her insistence upon using a word he wasn't even sure was a word. "Thought so." He walked to the other side of the tree cluster and touched another one. "What about this one?"

She narrowed her eyes for a moment. "Too bushy."

"Bushy?"

"Bushy."

Mac pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Right. Bushy."

Stella glanced around pensively, obviously unhappy with the ones she saw there. At last, her eyes lit up. Without a word, she marched straight toward another cluster of trees on the other side of the lot and touched one of them. It stood about six feet high, with a nearly perfectly shaped body and a sweet scent.

Eyes sparkling, she turned to look at Mac as he trailed behind her. "This is it."

"This one?" he asked, coming up beside her.

"Definitely. It's perfect."

He studied her for a moment, taking in her pink cheeks and twinkling eyes. Finally he broke out into a smile, turned around, and waved toward the man at the front of the lot. "Done," he said.

*****

After much pushing, pulling, grunting, and some swearing in Greek from Stella, the two friends finally managed to get the tree up the stairs and into her living room. Wiping sweat from his brow, Mac stood back with her, arms folded in front of him, staring at the tree. "Well," he said, "that was fun."

Stella laughed and elbowed him in the ribs. "Now comes the really fun part." At his quirked eyebrow, her grin widened. "Decorating the tree."

Mac groaned, though he was secretly thrilled at the prospect of decorating a tree with her. "Great. Maybe I should get out while I have the chance."

Her lips twisted into a pout, and he knew he was caught. Not that he would've wanted to leave anyway. "C'mon, Mac," she pleaded. "It'll be fun. And I'll even make you some hot cocoa afterward."

Pretending to think about it for a moment, he sighed and said, "I guess."

She grinned and clapped her hands together excitedly. "Great. Be right back." She disappeared down the hall, leaving him to stare after her in bewilderment. But she was only gone for a moment before she reappeared dragging a huge box marked "Christmas" behind her. "Everything's in here!"

Mac's mouth dropped open when she opened the box, revealing piles of ornaments, lights, tinsel, and other knick-knacks wrapped in newspaper. "What'd you do, rob a Christmas store?"

"No," she retorted, giving him a glare. "I just like Christmas."

"I gathered that." Mac sighed and sat down on the carpet next to the box. "So what first?"

She handed him a tangled mess of lights. "These."

Time passed quickly for the pair. Christmas music from the local radio station played softly in the background, nearly drowned out by their chatter. They talked about everything, from snow to Christmases past to funny stories about trying to track down jolly ol' Saint Nick. For once, it was nice to not have to worry about bodies and bullets and autopsies. Here, just a few days before Christmas, they could just be Mac and Stella. No presuppositions, no hierarchy. Just them.

Mac finally wrapped the last of the silvery tinsel around the tree. He took a step back to look at it and, satisfied with his work, sat back down to help Stella put the hooks on several of the ornaments. "You really go all out on this Christmas stuff," Mac said quietly, sliding the hook onto one of the colorful balls.

"It was always my favorite time of the year," she replied. "At Saint Basil's, we used to decorate the big Christmas tree in the cafeteria together. We'd sing Christmas carols and hear the Christmas story. And it was one of the only times of the year all of us were truly happy."

Silence fell over the pair for the first time in hours while Mac absorbed her words. She never talked much about her experience at Saint Basil's Orphanage. He never asked about it much. He knew she didn't have a good childhood. Just a few months ago, watching her mourn the only connection to the mother she never knew broke his heart. And now, visions of a young Stella in a huge orphanage with no family danced in his head, making his heart ache again.

"Mac." The soft sound of his name from her lips snapped him out of his thoughts. When he looked up, she was smiling at him softly. "It's okay," she said, touching his hand. "I promise, it's fine."

He returned her smile and gently squeezed her fingers. "I know."

With a grunt, he stood up to hang a couple of the ornaments on the tree.

"What are your plans this year?" Stella asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Flack invited me to his house Christmas Day. You?"

"A friend invited me to her family's house for the weekend after Christmas. I'm not sure I'll go." He turned around and raised an eyebrow at her. She shrugged. "It's in Hoboken. There's something about smelling petrochemicals on Christmas Day."

Mac laughed, shaking his head. Suddenly, an idea struck him, and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Spend Christmas with me this year."

Utter quiet answered him. He turned around to face his partner. Her mouth was hanging open, and her eyes were wide with shock. "Mac," she began.

"I mean it. Spend Christmas with me." He stuffed his hands into his pockets, struck with a sudden nervousness. His gaze fell to the floor. "I make a mean turkey stuffing. My cranberry sauce could use some work, but…" his voice trailed off, and he lifted his eyes to meet hers. They were glistening in the low light.

"Stel, Christmas is about celebrating a gift given out of love. It's about doing something kind and thoughtful for someone you care about. It's about family. You're the only family I have now after Claire. I care about you very much. And I want to celebrate Christmas with you."

He waited nervously while she chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. At last, she nodded, curls spilling over her shoulders. "I'd be honored, Mac." And then she laughed, a little tearfully. "Really. Thank you."

He grinned happily before he returned to hanging ornaments. It almost felt like Christmas Day already. He couldn't remember feeling this giddy since he was a little boy. A rustling sound behind him stopped his thoughts. Stella came up behind him and, placing a hand on his shoulder, hung a small Nativity scene beside his ornament. "I think that should do it," she whispered.

Mac smiled at her. "Lights?"

"Lights."

She took a step back. Mac picked up the plug for the tree lights and slid it into the outlet nearby. Straightening, he stepped back to stand next to his best friend. The apartment was bathed in a soft white light, and the tree was covered with colorful decorations. His eyes met Stella's, and she smiled, the lights of the tree reflected in her eyes.

"It's beautiful," she said softly.

His hand found hers, entwining their fingers as he smiled. "It sure is."

Outside, the snow continued to peacefully fall, and if one listened closely, one could hear the whispered voices of a thousand angels singing, "Peace on earth and good will to men."