Part 4

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"Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that."

She was nestled between his legs and rested back against his chest as they reclined in front of the fire. She had an old, leather-bound book propped up against her knees and held open with her left hand, her right hand resting on Josh's knee, stroking his flannel pants gently.

He leaned his head forward and nuzzled her neck softly. "Do you really read A Christmas Carol every Christmas Eve?" He asked, his breath tickling her skin.

"Yes, we do," she replied, smiling as his hand slipped up her side and around her front, holding her tightly to him. "The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman,-" she paused mid-sentence as his lips caressed and nipped her neck. She shifted slightly, turning to glare at him. "Joshua. We're never going to finish the book if you don't stop."

"Don't have to read it -they made a movie out of it," he replied, kissing her jaw just below her ear.

"Josh," she said, trying to put as much admonishment into her voice as one could when sighing with pleasure.

"Ma'am?"

"Stop." She pulled herself away from his lips and returned to her original position. "Where was I? Ok. "The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name was good upon `Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to."

"Donna," he reached around her and took the book from her lap and set it on the seat of the chair they were resting against.

She tried to twist and reach for the book, but the hand on her midsection stilled her.

"Seriously. This is a cute tradition and all, and I look forward to reading this with you every year. Except this year."

"Every year, huh?" she questioned, not missing his comment.

"Yeah," he nodded, tipping his head slightly so that he could pull in a large breath of air.

She smirked quickly before turning towards him. "Josh, it's just not Christmas without the story," she whined, making sad eyes at him.

"I'm immune to that look, Donna."

"You are not," she scoffed.

"I am tonight," he said, his voice growing huskier. "I have other things on my mind than Scrooge and his ghostly visitors."

"Oh yeah?"

He nodded and shifted her slightly so she was more sideways against him; perpendicular to his frame. "Yeah."

"Like what?" she prodded.

"Like telling you that you smell good," he said softly as he inhaled her shampoo's scent off her hair again.

"It's Paul Mitchell. It always smells good," she replied with a chuckle. She turned around completely so she faced him and propped her feet on either side of his hips. She settled in and leaned back, holding herself up with her hands so she was reclined before him. "Are you done? Can I read my book now?"

He smirked and latched onto each thigh, tugging her closer to him. "How come I've never seen these pants before?" he asked, fingering the soft flannel. "These are the sexiest pajamas, ever."

Her head fell back and she laughed outright. "Josh, they're flannel!"

"But they're hot."

She looked down. "They have flags on them."

He shrugged. "I have a thing for women in red-white-and-blue."

She smirked. "Remind me to lock you up on the Forth of July."

His hands moved up her legs quickly and stilled on her hips, his fingers toying with the stretched-out hem of his Harvard sweatshirt. "Where did you get this sweatshirt?"

"From your laundry," she replied, blushing.

"You stole my shirt!"

"I borrowed," she replied.

"Exactly when do you plan on giving it back?" he questioned, tickling her through the shirt, ever so slightly.

"When you finally get me a trip to Hawaii," she replied, calmly.

He smirked at her. "Swear?" he asked. She nodded and suddenly he was pulling his legs from underneath hers and standing up.

"Hey- Josh?" She called, watching him rush towards his backpack, which still sat on the hallway bench. "Josh?"

"Stay - right - there," he called over his shoulder as he rummaged through the highly disorganized bag until his hands contacted a cool, metallic feeling paper. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "I return victorious!"

"What's that?" she asked, eyeing the red-foil wrapped box in his hand with a wary expression.

"Its your Christmas present," he said with a grin as he settled back in front of her and pulled her legs back into their earlier position on either side of his lap.

"Josh, I know Christmas is a new thing for you since you're Jewish and all, but gifts are actually done tomorrow morning," she said, intentionally patronizing.

"Open the present, Donna."

She smiled and lifted the lid on the oblong foil-wrapped box, briefly noting her name scrawled in Sharpie across the top in his handwriting.

Her mouth dropped open as she saw the contents. A resort-brochure, a post card, and a Hawaiian Airlines envelope that looked suspiciously like first-class.

He smiled, a bit uncertainly, watching her take it all in.

She looked up and her face was a cross between disbelief and shock. "Josh…this is…" she stumbled, her eyes sparkling with moisture.

"Oh, god," he said, drawing a breath quickly. "If you're going to cry, you can't have it," he said, reaching out to take the box back.

She pulled it out of his reach and managed a chuckled followed by a small sniffle and looked up at him again. "Are you serious about this? This isn't a joke?"

"I'm serious. Merry Christmas."

She sniffled again before scooting closer to him, aware of their position and proximity. "You must really want this shirt back, don't you?" she teased slightly, leaning in and resting her forehead on his, her free hand snaking around and gently stroking his curls.

"You can keep it," he replied. "Looks better on you than me, anyway." He grinned when she chuckled at that. "You have two tickets, you know. Any idea who you'll take?"

"Yeah. I think I might have an idea or two." She closed her eyes and took a calming breath.

"Anyone I know?" He prodded.

"Well… I don't work for you anymore," she stated softly. "Wanna go to Hawaii?"

He paused, seeming to mull it over in his head. "Hot, sandy, volcanoes…."

"Me in a little red bikini," she muttered.

"I'm there!" He laughed. "I gotta say, Donna, I think I really like you not working for me," he admitted.

She sighed and placed a hand over his heart. "God, Josh… this is… I can't believe you're here and that you just gave me tickets to Hawaii," she paused and looked at the box and continued wryly; "Which you obviously planned in advance for."

"Its all part of my plan, Donna," he said with a grin, his fingers stroking the skin at the base of her neck in a light massage; she closed her eyes in response to his touch.

"The Secret Plan to Withhold Dishtowels?" she managed to ask.

"That's the one," he agreed, tilting his head and kissing her softly.

When they parted a moment later she blushed slight. "You're really bringing the woo, aren't ya?"

"Oh, yeah," he whispered, right before they kissed again, the tip of her tongue tracing his lower lip.

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