Disclaimer: I do not own CSI

AN: Yay, the holiday season has returned! I guess this means I don't have a good reason to avoid updating this story... darn.

Really, Sara thought, after spending so much time around the girl, she should know better than to think that Lindsey was capable of being part of a simple shopping trip. Hell, she had spent more than enough time listening to Catherine complain about her daughter's love of what she had taken to calling 'the infernal hellhole known as the mall' to know better.

After dragging Sara through several shops that the CSI had no desire to ever lay eyes on ever, ever again, Lindsey had remembered that they were at the mall for a reason. Then Lindsey had dragged Sara aimlessly through the mall while they argued over whose fault it was that Catherine's favorite Santa Claus ornament was in pieces.

Sara made a mental note to herself to only spend multiple hours alone with Catherine's daughter when the girl was in a relatively good mood. No one in a good—or rational—mood would try to blame her for the height of a Christmas tree that a certain teenager had asked for.

At least now they were getting something done. They had finally found a shop with a decent supply of Christmas ornaments, and Lindsey was in the process of deciding which Santa looked the most like the one that had shattered.

Sara had tried to point out earlier that one of her top choices was missing the green gloves of Shattered Santa, but Lindsey's glare had stopped her.

"What are you getting Mom for Christmas?"

Sara looked up from the shelf of Santas and met Lindsey's eyes awkwardly. She had been hoping that the teenager wouldn't bring that up.

"I'm, uh, not entirely sure."

Lindsey rolled her eyes and huffed, turning her attention back to the competing ornaments in her hands. "Do you remember if Santa's boots had colored laces?"

The Santa with gold laces on his boots was the one that didn't have green gloves, but Cath's recent comment about having two five year olds was still fresh in her mind, so Sara answered honestly. "I have no idea."

"Maybe you would if you had seen it whole for more than a few seconds," Lindsey muttered petulantly. "Okay, I'll get this one then." She held up the Santa with green gloves, and walked up to the cash register.

Sara trailed behind, looking around at all of the holiday-themed figurines someone had painstakingly arranged in ridiculous formations and the festive, seizure-inducing lights strung across the shelves. Besides Lindsey, only Catherine would have been able to get her to step inside this shop.

Greg would probably say that she was thoroughly whipped if he knew about this little adventure.

…Greg would be right.

Sara pulled out her wallet and waited for the bored cashier to tell her how much Shattered Santa's replacement cost.

She looked down at the figurine closest to the cash register and blinked. It was a white tiger with a Santa hat on and its fangs bared. One of its paws was resting on a cub's head. There was a tag wound around the cub's neck, and seeing the cashier struggling with operating the cash register, Sara picked it up and read it.

Then she put it down and stared at the figurine.

On the one hand… it fit. It fit so well that it was almost scary.

On the other… Sara glanced at Lindsey, then back at the figurine. She cleared her throat to attract the cashier's attention and pointed down at the tiger and its cub.

"I think I'll take that too."

Catherine was unlikely to kill her with Lindsey watching. As long as Sara made sure that Cat read the tag while Lindsey was around, she would make it through the holidays.

…Hopefully.