DECEMBER 20

"Hello?" said the female voice on the other line.

"Hi there," Tony said in his best 'seduction' voice. "What are you wearing?"

An equally seductive voice answered him. "I've got on a pair of green striped flannel pajama bottoms, a long-sleeved dark red t-shirt, and a pair of grey wool socks. What are you wearing?"

Tony chuckled. "Red plaid flannel pajama bottoms, a short-sleeved Ohio State t-shirt, and I'm … sockless," he answered with a kind of 'James Bond'-esque attitude.

"Apparently it's a lot warmer there than it is here then," Jess said with a light laugh.

"Well," Tony replied, "you are a mile above the Arctic Circle, so that would stand to reason. You having a Christmas that's merry and bright?"

"Merry, yes. Bright … not so much. We're kind of in 24-hour nighttime up here." (Jess was currently working a stint in a research lab in Barrow, Alaska.)

"Did you get your present?" Tony asked, hoping everything made it to the Far North in time.

"I did," Jess said. "It's under the tree. You get yours?"

"Yup," Tony acknowledged. "Under the tree."

The preliminaries out of the way, Tony got down to business. "So … hot chocolate?" he queried.

"Check," Jess confirmed.

"Popcorn?"

"Check."

"Christmas cookies?"

"Check."

"Gentlemen," Jess said. "Start your DVD players."

Tony gave them a '3, 2, 1' countdown and they both hit 'Play' at exactly the same time. A few seconds later, the opening strains of "A Charlie Brown Christmas" began to play, and the two friends settled down to watch the traditional Christmas special together, even though they were 3500 miles apart.

Watching "A Charlie Brown Christmas" had been a tradition for Tony and Jess since they were kids. Every Christmas, they'd curl up on someone's couch and watch it, with hot chocolate, popcorn, and whatever Christmas cookies they could beg away from their parents, cooks, roommates, friends, or co-workers. Once they'd graduated from college and headed to opposite sides of the country (and, occasionally, the world), they'd devised a way to continue the tradition – first, with VHS tapes and now with DVDs. They'd choose a day a few days before Christmas and a time that worked for both of them, and they'd watch together, connected by phone lines. They tried watching via IMs one year, but it took too much concentration to keep typing and reading while also watching and eating and drinking. The next year, they went back to phones. They were looking forward to the day when they were close enough, geographically, to watch it in the same room again, but this wasn't a bad substitute.

They knew the story and the dialogue so well that they could practically recite it, but that didn't matter. They loved it anyway, and would 'shush' each other during favorite parts. Tony would tease Jess about her baby blanket during the Linus scenes ("It's there on the couch with you, isn't it?" he'd say, and he could feel her blush through the phone) and Jess would tease Tony about his aborted attempt to build a doghouse for the express purpose of turning it into a Sopwith Camel ("I told you your dad would say that it was foolish to build a doghouse when one did not have a dog," she'd say in her best 'DiNozzo Sr.' imitation).

They both booed at Lucy and Violet when they teased Charlie Brown, and they both recited The Christmas Story with Linus. At the end, they'd both sing along to the 'loo, loo, loo' version of "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" and then yell, "Merry Christmas Charlie Brown!" along with all the kids. And then it would be over for another year.

As the credits rolled, there was silence and a couple of sighs, almost in unison. Then there would be a few more minutes of "not wanting to hang up" chatting, each person trying to figure out one more thing to say. But eventually it would be time for them to get back to reality.

"I miss you, Dino."

"Miss you too, Jessie."

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas."

Tony had another tradition that he'd started the second or third year that he and Jess did the "telephone Charlie Brown" thing. He knew that he'd be feeling lonely or homesick as soon as he hung up, so he started saving all of his Christmas cards – anything he'd gotten in the mail or at work – and piling them up on his coffee table. As soon as he and Jess had hung up the phone, he'd grab the pile of cards and open them, one by one. He saved every Christmas card for this ritual – including the ones from the dry cleaner, the insurance guy, and the car dealership. He'd shuffle them up and open them in no particular order. Some, like Abby's or the ones from college friends, would make him laugh. Some, like those from relatives or people like Ducky, would make him sentimental. Some, like the musical one that came from his dentist, just made him shake his head. The year after Kate died he'd gotten one from her parents – that one made him almost cry. But by the time he made it through the stack each year, he felt less like a single guy in a decorated apartment and more like a part of a whole. It was kind of like getting "Get Well" cards after the plague. Sometimes it's just nice to have a tangible reminder that there are people out there who are linked to you and who care about you.

It took Tony nearly an hour to open all the cards and read the various sentiments and year-end letters this time around. Then, feeling sleepy and content, he stood and stretched and tossed all the envelopes onto a pile by his computer. He'd update addresses over the weekend. The cards were left in a random pile on the coffee table to maybe go through again later. He put all the popcorn and hot chocolate stuff away and headed to bed, with "Christmastime is Here" still ringing in his ears.

DECEMBER 21

The 8th day of Christmas was the first real day of snow they'd had so far. It had started falling the night before, and by 10 a.m. it was nearly a foot deep. It was the best kind of snow too – soft and light and wet enough to pack. Tony was just about to pick up the phone to make a call when it rang. He knew instantly who it would be.

"Meet you in the park?" he said into the phone, without even saying hello.

"You know it!" came the reply. "See you in 25 minutes?"

"25 minutes."

And so began Tony's annual "snow day with Terri and Liz." Terri and Liz were both about Tony's age, and each of them had lived near him in previous apartment complexes – he'd known Liz the longest, but was good friends with both of them. The two women met each other the year they'd both happened to invite Tony to Thanksgiving dinner and he decided it would be more fun for him to invite them both to his house than it would be to choose between them. Since then, the three of them got together regularly for movies, went to ball games and concerts, and once a month they'd meet for dinner. The kind of dinner that keeps you at the restaurant for hours, talking and laughing, while the staff tries to figure out how to get you out of the booth so that they can seat someone else. Tony doubted that anyone at work would believe that he had two totally platonic female friends. But to him, they were the sisters he never had.

At 10:30, Tony walked into Anacostia Park, bundled up against the cold and wearing clothes that he didn't mind getting dirty or covered in snow. His boots crunched on the not-yet shoveled pathway as he tried to pick Terri and Liz out of the groups of people who were walking, playing, running and otherwise enjoying the winter day. Then a cold, wet snowball hit him on the top of the head, and it was war!

The snowball fight lasted all of ten minutes before the three friends called a truce and decided that it would be much more productive to build a snowman. "Snow person," Liz said with a fake-scolding look. Tony raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Sorry," Liz said with a laugh. "Diversity training at work."

It took them nearly an hour and a half to complete the seven-foot snowman, including the sculpting of a top hat that was trimmed with small pine cones and bits of greenery. Terri was banished from decorating after she installed a branch for the snowman's right arm that just happened to look like he was giving everyone 'the finger'.

"I can't help how branches fall and break," she said with a pout.

"No, of course you can't," Tony said with an exaggerated conciliatory tone as he patted her on the head and sent lumps of freezing snow down her back. She jumped up and pushed him into the bank of snow near the picnic table as Liz looked on shaking her head.

"Children," Liz said. "Do NOT make me stop this car …"

Tony laughed and used his position in the snow to make a snow angel, followed shortly by the two women, plopping down and creating their own. After that, all three were pretty much chilled to the bone, so it was on to the pavilion to get some hot chocolate and watch the ice skaters glide around the indoor / outdoor rink.

"What are you guys doing for Christmas this year?" Tony asked as he stirred the marshmallows into his chocolate.

"Working," Liz said. Her friends looked at her sympathetically. "And getting nearly triple time for having had my schedule changed at the last minute," she added with a grin. "I'll make more on Christmas than I did all last week."

"Dinner in January is on you, then," Tony said with a smile. He looked at Terri.

"I'll be doing the annual 'family thing' with my sister in Fredericksburg," she said. "Anyone want to come along?" she added, hopefully.

"I've met your sister," Tony said with a shudder. "It took me weeks to recover."

"And you call yourself a federal agent," Terri said with a shake of the head.

"Let me bring weapons, and I'll be happy to go," Tony said.

"What about you?" Liz said, neatly changing the subject and looking at Tony. "What are you doing for Christmas?"

"The usual," Tony said. "Presents, football, a round-robin of open houses and holiday meals. Unless we get a case."

And then, just because it was kind of a holiday-themed thing, Tony told them about the odd "guy stuck in a chimney" case from earlier in the week while they all finished their hot chocolate.

By late afternoon, the snow was starting to get slushy and everyone was pleasantly tired and unpleasantly damp and cold; it was time to call it a day and head back home. They exchanged gifts at their cars as they said their 'good-byes' and 'Merry Christmases'. Then with a final round of hugs (and handfuls of snow down each other's backs), they got in their cars and drove off.

Terri and Liz knew that Tony didn't open any of his gifts until Christmas morning, so they didn't even try to get him to open them now. Tony, on the other hand, knew that both women would have the paper ripped off their presents at the first available opportunity, most likely the long stop light at the corner near the park exit. Which was why he'd put a fairly heavy layer of Christmas confetti in between the box and the wrapping paper of each gift. As he drove home, Tony couldn't help but laugh. Terri and Liz would be vacuuming red and green glitter out of their cars until Easter.