It was Christmas Eve, and Frank hung a piece of mistletoe from the rearview mirror in his car. He sighed. If only Stella were here, and not on a mission in some mysterious country.

Frank's phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, seeing a text from Rose.

Frank - Stella's back. I saw her go into the debrief room with the PM and a bunch of others. Thought you'd like to know. - Rose

Whispering a silent thanks to Rose Gupta and her observations skills, Frank turned on the engine and hit the road, eager to get to MI9 HQ and find Stella.

"Where is she?" Frank burst into the room and let the doors slam shut behind him. Everyone looked at him, startled.

He looked around the room, ignoring the bewildered expressions of the Prime Minister, Minister for Security and the various high-ranking agents in the room. His eyes fell on the woman sitting at the desk in the corner, staring at him, wide-eyed.

Frank crossed the room in an instant to be at his wife's side, nearly dragging her out of her chair as he embraced her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I heard you'd come back," Frank whispered. "Are you okay? What went wrong?"

"Frank," Stella said softly but firmly. "I'm in the middle of the debrief."

"Oh!" Frank finally realised that there were other people in the room, of very senior rank. "Sorry, everyone, Prime Minister! I just..."

Luckily, Stella's mission, which had been on the very edge of disaster, had turned out to be a success. Everyone was in a good mood, and merely smiled at Frank's embarrassment.

"I'll just wait outside..." Frank said, and darted out the door.

Outside the meeting room, Frank waited impatiently for the debrief to be over. Something had gone horribly wrong on Stella's mission abroad and Frank intended to find out what it was. It had been a top-secret mission, and even he had not gained clearance to have the details disclosed to him. All he knew was that it had something to do with nuclear missiles, and that Stella had been captured, possibly injured, and then rescued. She'd recovered overseas before returning to be taken straight from her plane to the debrief.

It would be an understatement to say that Frank had been worried about Stella while she was away. It would be an understatement to say that he still worried about her.

The door opened, and Frank leapt to his feet. He nodded and smiled to his superiors as they walked out.

Stella was the last to leave the room, a folder in hand and her eyes directed to the ground in front of her. She smiled shyly at Frank, but the smile didn't quite reached her eyes. There was something else in those beautiful eyes, Frank realised. To his shock and concern, he realised that it was fear.

He wrapped an arm around Stella's shoulders, and felt her tense up for a moment before she relaxed and allowed him to lead her along.

"I'm taking you home," Frank said firmly. "No protests," he added when Stella opened her mouth to object. "The paperwork can wait."

Stella didn't talk much during the drive to their apartment. Frank asked her questions, but received only vague and arbitrary answers.

"How did the mission go?"

"We got there in the end."

"Did you go anywhere interesting?"

"Not really."

"Did you miss me?"

"Of course!"

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"Are you sure?"

No response. Frank pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine, then turned to look at Stella. To his surprise, silent tears were running down her cheeks.

"Stella?" Frank reached over to take Stella's hand, cradling it in his own and feeling the roughness of her skin, wondering what had gone through while on the mission. He pressed a kiss to her hand and waited for her to speak.

"It's Christmas," Stella said, her voice laden with a childlike surprise. She looked outside, gazing at the fairy lights that decorated many of the buildings on their street. "I never even realised. Time passes so quickly."

"It's Christmas Eve tonight, Stella," Frank said, wondering where this was going.

"I forgot to get you a present." Stella's voice was soft and timid. Frank wondered where the chief agent in her had disappeared to.

Frank kissed her hand again. "Your homecoming is the best present I could have asked for."

Stella smiled again, but again, it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Frank, I'm sorry."

"Please don't blame yourself," Frank begged. "It can't possibly be your fault."

"They captured me." Stella was almost whispering. "They found out I was MI9."

Frank couldn't think of anything to say, and simply looked into her eyes and listened.

"MI9 got me out. They had me checked over at the hospital. Frank, I'm fine, only...I'm so sorry, Frank. I can't have children." Stella was crying in earnest now, a flood of salty water cascading down her cheeks and onto her starch-white collar.

"I'm sorry, Stella," Frank said gently. "But don't apologise to me. I've had enough of kids running around M.I. High. And we'd never be able to bring up a child as active agents anyway. And, well, I love you. I always will."

"I love you too," Stella answered, almost instinctively.

Simultaneously they leaned forward and their lips met. The branch of mistletoe hung on the ceiling above them.