It was Christmas Eve, and the team was flying back home from Kansas. Garcia and Leah were on the phone with Rossi.

"I don't know if I'm going to be able to pull off a Christmas party this year." Rossi was saying. "The house isn't decorated; I've got nothing to eat. We may have to pass this time."

"Don't worry," Garcia said. "We've got it covered. Will, Jack, Henry, and you're ever lovable techs have worked like mad people and Leah's apartment is just screaming 'Christmas party'."

"So Leah's coming then, right?"

"Right." Garcia answered.

"The food?" The Italian was afraid to ask.

"Don't worry," Leah repeated. "I've got it under control."

"But remember, you can't make the pasta sauce until that night."

"I know, Rossi, I've got it all under control."

"You're sure? Remember we Italians are very picky about our food."

"Understatement!" Emily called out from the opposite side of the plane. Rossi rolled his eyes at her.

"I'm sure. I lived in Italy for twenty-two years, I was born there. Trust. In. Me. Rest, relax, let someone else worry about the party."

Rossi took a deep breath. "I trust you."

"Good."

"But remember the oregano has to be just right, not too-"

"Arrivederci, Rossi." Leah laughed and hung up.

Rossi looked in dismay at the phone. The rest of the team laughed at him. "The party is at Leah's apartment." Rossi informed them. "She did say she moved to a bigger one?"

Emily nodded. "In Reid's apartment building."

"Man," Morgan asked Reid. "You sure she ain't stalking you?"