"It'll pass," Olivia murmured, voice low and gentle as she could make it. "Just relax as much as you can."

Sarah nodded once, mutely, gripping Olivia's hand tight within her own. She knew the pain would recede, it always did. And Walter, Peter, Felicia, they were all right about the Cortexiphan effects getting easier to handle. Easier didn't mean walk in the park, and it still spiked at unexpected times, the pain, the panic. That was the worst part, thinking she had a handle on it only to become overwhelmed again. It was emblematic of her life really. At nineteen, she'd thought she had at least a basic grasp on life, then Reese and Skynet burned away those delusions with tales of machines and nuclear fire. A decade or so later, Sarah thought she'd rid herself of the robots, the threat of cold, blackened air. Cameron and Cromartie had come back through time to disavow her of that fantasy.

And then there was Olivia. Sarah had half-managed to convince herself that she could live out the rest of her days with the blonde without having to fight any more battles, at least not this one. She should've known better.

"Okay?" Olivia asked, using her free hand to push Sarah's hair away from her eyes. Olivia had gotten used to spending time with her alternate, to the hard, uncomfortable chair that had become her station over the past couple of weeks. She hadn't and wouldn't get used to seeing Sarah like this, looking small and tired in that hospital bed, needle in her arm and pain lines cutting deep into her face.

"0kay," Sarah confirmed, hoping she didn't sound as ragged as she felt. It was easing again though, the pain that ran through her body along with the Cortexiphan, the desperate need to move and keep moving until she was far away from here, back in her own universe. Forcing a deep breath, Sarah gradually loosened her hold on Olivia's hand, without relinquishing it. "Fantastic," she grumbled, offering a weak smile that negated the sarcasm. Olivia's lips found her temple and stayed there until a knock at the door forced them away.

Peter waited for Olivia's approval before making his entrance. "Everything okay in here?" he asked, doing a quick check of the machines monitoring Sarah's vitals.

"Fantastic," Sarah repeated, using a different intonation than she had with Olivia. Breathing deep again to steady her frayed nerves, Sarah forced her voice to even out when she spoke to Peter again. "Do me a favor, will you? Turn it off before I break it."

'It' was the record player Walter had gotten permission to bring Over Here. He had music to go with it, and at first Sarah had been oddly touched by the gesture, an attempt to give her something else to focus on while the Cortexiphan did it's work. However, the thing had been stuck on a loop for the last twenty minutes, and though she liked the Beatles well enough, they had started to grate on her. Sarah would've asked Olivia to fix the problem, but the pain had taken a long time to let go just now, and Sarah felt better holding on to Olivia than she did about clawing holes in the bedspread.

"Sorry," Peter said, a sheepish half-smile pulling at his lips as he silenced the music. "Walter's been nagging me to fix that thing."

"Might want to get on that then. Thanks," she added once she noticed the look Olivia was giving her. As an afterthought, and because she'd just heard 'Yellow Submarine' more times than she ever would've cared to, "I hate submarines."

It was Walter who responded to her statement, coming into the room a few moments behind his son. There was a spot of what looked like whipped cream gracing his upper lip. "Nonsense. Everyone loves submarines."

"I don't," Sarah refuted. Submarines reminded her of Jesse. Being reminded of Jesse made her want to hit things. "You've got a little…" She let the sentence trail off, touching her own lip to indicate the errant dessert remnants.

"Oh. Thank you," Walter replied, getting rid of the white on his face. "The cafeteria here serves whipped cream with their pudding. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Terrific," Sarah drawled. "I'll have five star meals while I'm sitting here waiting to see if the cancer hung around."

Walter nodded, the sarcasm going completely over his head. "Indeed. Did I ever tell you about that horrid butterscotch pudding they served in the institution? Every Monday was like a culinary torture session. The dessert was almost as painful as the electroshock therapy."

"You've mentioned that," Olivia confirmed, a sad smile pulling at her lips.

"Have I?"

Olivia nodded. "When I first came to get you out of there. And usually at least once a week after that."

"Oh. Well then." Walter's eyes found his son, found the silent record player, then locked on Sarah. "Did you not like the music? I'd hoped you'd find it therapeutic."

Sarah took another breath. He looked so damn hopeful, so hungry for the knowledge that he'd done something right. He reminded her of Cameron sometimes, so brilliant in certain areas, so clueless in others. Fortunately Walter was not a cyborg and she'd never had the misfortune of experiencing any sex dreams about him. "The music's great, Walter. Thank you."

Walter grinned at that before choosing to address his son. "Peter, do you remember when you were a boy, you used to play with your plastic submarine in the tub? You'd laugh and laugh, splash around endlessly."

"Actually that was you, Walter. And it was last week, not when I was a kid. And please, in future, try to remember our agreement to close the door during bath time." Peter shook his head and seemed to shudder a little before turning his attention to Olivia. "So. Plans for Christmas? You going to see Rachel and Ella?"

Olivia shook her head. With everything that was going on, the holiday season hadn't exactly taken priority. "They're going to Chicago to spend Christmas with Greg. Rachel's way of showing Ella that she still has a real family after all the custody fights. Personally I think it'll be a disaster, but since when has she ever listened to me where Greg's concerned?"

Peter offered a wry smirk. "Gee, you don't seem bitter at all."

"Bah humbug," Olivia retorted.

"Peter and I are going to watch A Christmas Carol," Walter said suddenly. "Aren't we, son?"

"Yes, Walter. We've been over this."

"And How the Grinch Stole Christmas?"

"Yes, Walter."

"The cartoon, the original. Not that dreadful live-action rubbish."

"Yes, Walter. We'll watch all the Christmas specials you want until whatever concoction you've mixed into your eggnog renders you unconscious"

"Excellent."

Olivia spared a moment to enjoy Walter's holiday cheer before broaching a tougher subject. "Does that mean you're not seeing Henry?"

Sarah closed her eyes, tightening her grip on Olivia's hand. The blonde was trying, but Olivia still couldn't pretend that speaking of Henry wasn't like brushing an exposed nerve.

"No," Peter replied with an equal amount of poorly-hidden strain. "Liv," he began, shaking his head and cutting his eyes towards the door where the other Olivia waited in the hallway. "Liv's taking him to her mother's."

He trailed off and Sarah battled an unwelcome sense of guilt. "I'm sorry."

Peter shook his head again, waving off the apology. "I'll see him after New Year's." He paused, and when he spoke again there was an extra bit of false levity in his voice. "Anyway, James tells me he's not doing much either. Maybe I can talk him into joining the Bishop Holiday Bash. What do you think, Walter, you like that idea?"

"Oh yes, very much. Do you think Agent Ellison likes figgy pudding? I've had a craving for figgy pudding since the day after Thanksgiving."

"I don't know, Walter. I'll check on that next time I talk to him, okay?"

"Splendid."

Sarah observed Peter and his false enthusiasm. She thought about Ellison and his big extended family, the ones he couldn't contact anymore, ever since he got sucked into her war effort. She thought about dinners with John and Savannah over the past two weeks, how quiet and strained they could get. Then she locked eyes with Olivia while Peter checked her IV drip and Walter started playing 'Yellow Submarine' again.

"A Christmas party," Savannah said for what felt like the hundredth time.

"It's not a party," Sarah refuted yet again. She was checking on the roast Olivia had in the oven, trying not to burn the house down in the process, and she didn't have time for this now. Savannah had made it quite clear in the week leading up to Christmas Eve that she thought the Cortexiphan might be affecting Sarah's mind. "It's just a few people," Sarah continued, repeating her portion of the script as she closed the oven.

"You two are the most antisocial people I've ever met," the redhead countered. She was standing in the living room, straightening some of the tree ornaments. "For you, a few people is a party."

It was Olivia who answered this time. She entered the room from the hallway, carrying a painting in one hand, hammer and nails in the other. "Clearly we have to set a better example for you then, on how to be more sociable."

"Why?" Savannah asked, seeming genuinely curious as she wandered over to watch the blonde's activities. "And what is that?" she questioned, face contorting as she got a decent look at the picture Olivia was trying to hang over an end table.

"Gift from Walter," Sarah replied, moving to stand next to the redhead. "Two Christmases ago."

"Birthdays," Olivia corrected, absently. "My birthday, two years ago."

"I thought we burned that," Sarah stated, frowning as she looked at the artwork. It was literally painful on the eyes, a barrage of loud, clashing colors with no discernible shape or meaning.

"We didn't," Olivia retorted, wishing she didn't have to be so close to the thing. It was like staring at a strobe light for too long.

"It looks like a stoner painting," Savannah observed mildly.

"Hey," Olivia said sharply, though not as sharply as she would have if she didn't feel a headache coming on.

"What? It's from Walter. That means me calling it that isn't even an insult."

Olivia sighed, mostly because Savannah wasn't actually wrong. Then she stepped back and to the left, giving the others a clearer view. "Does that look straight to you?"

Savannah considered, nodded once. "Looks like someone puked on a canvass, but it's straight."

"How about you keep your art critiques to yourself until after Walter leaves. Be nice," Olivia said firmly.

"I'm always nice," Savannah said with a smirk.

Shaking her head, Olivia turned her attention to her lover. "Nina just called. She'll be here after all."

"She cleared her schedule? I didn't know she did holidays. Thought she just lived at Massive Dynamic year-round, hung from the rafters. Like a bat."

Savannah smirked again, aiming the look in Olivia's direction. "And I get the lectures. Why do I get the lectures?"

Because it was actually possible to get Savannah to listen to them. Occasionally. The doorbell rang before Olivia had a chance to voice that thought, and she hung back with Savannah while Sarah led the Bishops inside.

"Merry Christmas, merry Christmas," Walter said jovially. He carried a reindeer-adorned cookie tin, which he set down on the counter before joining Olivia and Savannah. His eyes brightened as they fell on the newly-hung painting. "What a lovely piece of artwork. You must tell me where you got it."

Sarah smiled. Savannah covered her mouth to hide a laugh and Peter rolled his eyes while setting aside his and Walter's coats and depositing several boxes under the tree. "You really like it, Walter?" Sarah asked.

"Of course. Just look at the colors."

"Hard not to," said Peter.

"Then take it, it's yours."

Walter's gaze shifted from the painting to Sarah, then back again. He shook his head, eyes wide. "Oh no, I couldn't possibly-"

"Sure you could. Season of giving, remember?"

"Are you quite certain that-"

"Positive. Merry Christmas."

Face splitting into a grin, Walter offered his thanks before enfolding Sarah in a hug. She stiffened at first, showed surprise. Then she relaxed a little, returning the embrace. While this was happening, Peter greeted Savannah, then turned his attention to Olivia.

"Brings re-gifting to a whole new level, doesn't it?" he said quietly. "I could say something you know."

Olivia scoffed at the mock threat. "And ruin your father's Christmas?"

It was Peter's turn to chuckle. "Olivia, when I was five, Walter got me so excited over the impending arrival of Santa Claus that I laid awake in my bed all night. Then on Christmas morning, I enter the living room and find absolutely nothing under the tree. Walter proceeds to tell me that Santa is just running late, that if I wait long enough he's sure to show up. So I wait and wait, and only after I pass out and wake up again do I finally receive my presents. Walter was testing the gullibility and the exhaustion threshold of small children, specifically me. So since I was too comatose to truly enjoy my gifts that year, ruining that man's holiday isn't something I'd lose any more sleep over."

"Well the thing is, I know that you pulled the exact same thing on Walter's birthday that first year we started working Fringe Division, so if I go down, you'll be going down with me."

"Damn," he said after a moment's consideration. Then he broke into a smile and pulled Olivia into a hug, lips brushing against her cheek. "Merry Christmas Eve, Dunham."

"Same to you," Olivia replied, her own lips curved in a smile. Then footsteps caught both of their attention and Peter was making his way to John, who'd just come in through the hallway.

"Hey, there he is. More than three weeks back and not one call. I was starting to think you didn't like me."

John shook his head, shaking Peter's hand before exchanging a quick, one-armed hug with the older man. "Sorry, Peter. It's great to see you, I've just been…"

Sarah watched their interaction, watched her son struggle for words. He couldn't say 'busy' because he hadn't been, hadn't done much of anything since arriving here. But he seemed to have problems lying to Peter, and Sarah understood why. They were good friends in spite of the age gap, sharing a propensity for mechanical things and smartass remarks. And parental issues, though Sarah tried not to dwell too much on that one. Peter had used his long list of contacts to find John work with people who didn't care to pry into his background, a fact that his next words only served to remind her of.

"Craig called, said he had to throw you overboard."

"Craig exaggerates. Told him I had to take some time off, he told me to take all the time I wanted. I'm sorry. I know you put in a good word for me."

Peter dismissed the apology. "Craig's an ass, it's his only talent in life. Don't waste time worrying about Craig."

While the others conversed, Savannah had made her way to the cookie tin, returning to the living room with a baked good that was dotted with yellow M&M's. "These smell really good, Walter," she praised. She was bringing the cookie to her mouth when Peter swooped in.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, snatching the cookie away. "Let's not do that, okay Savannah?"

"Hey," the redhead protested. "What's the deal?"

Ignoring her question, Peter locked eyes with his father, holding up the cookie. "Walter, remember what we said? The batch with the yellow M&M's are just for you, the one with the green is good for everyone. You recall that conversation?"

"Vaguely," Walter replied, a frown marring his features. "Did I grab the wrong cookie tin?"

"I'm afraid so, Walter." Crossing to the kitchen, Peter put the cookie back in the tin, tapping the lid with his fingers while addressing Sarah and Olivia. "You don't want to let her eat those."

It took a few seconds before Savannah's young features broke into a disbelieving smile. "Nice. He was going to get us all high on Christmas Eve."

"Please don't say that," begged Peter. "Sounds so much more wrong when a kid says it."

"I'm not a kid. And you people are crazy," Savannah said on a laugh.

"'You people,' she says, as if she's suddenly above all the madness. I got news for you, kiddo, you joined the same circus as the rest of us when I found you and Walter listening to children's records while he was teaching you how to make boiling acid. Get used to it, Savannah, we're all stuck in Walter's Wonderland together."

Savannah fought him on that, they went back and forth, but they smiled while doing it. Snarky teenager bit aside, Savannah loved Walter as much as she did the rest of them. His antics had always been able to draw a smile from her, even during the exceptionally bad times. They were all smiling, Sarah noticed, herself included. That was good. That was why she'd suffered Savannah's confused jibes for the last week. Playing holiday hostess wasn't her usual thing, but these were unusual times. Her agreement to receive the Cortexiphan treatments had lifted a huge weight off her family, but the drug wasn't a guarantee. The chances of this being her last Christmas were still disturbingly high. But having the others here made it less likely that her children and her lover would dwell on that. And if the worst didhappen, Olivia and Savannah would need these people. John would probably run again, and there wasn't much Sarah could do about that. Olivia and the redhead would still be here though, and they'd need support. And Olivia could talk about letting others help all she wanted, but the blonde and Sarah shared too many of the same issues. Olivia might have to lean heavily on the others very soon, and she wouldn't want to. Better to rebuild the old bridges now while things were relatively good. There was never any telling how long the good would last.

James arrived next, occupying himself by engaging a smiling Savannah in long conversation. The doorbell rang again a short time later. While the others munched on appetizers Olivia had spent the better part of a day preparing, the blonde shared greetings with Astrid Farnsworth.

"It's so great to see you," Olivia stated, setting aside the bottle of wine her guest had brought and embracing the smaller woman. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course," Astrid replied, smiling warmly as she shrugged out of her coat. "You think I'd miss this?"

Olivia couldn't help smirking when she saw what Astrid was wearing under the jacket. The sweater was wool, looked horribly uncomfortable and resembled nothing Olivia had ever seen the other woman wear. It was a mishmash of blinding colors with stripes and circles sewn in seemingly at random. Of their own volition, Olivia's eyes tracked to the painting that still hung over the end table, the one Sarah had so skillfully rid them of. The colors and the distinct lack of style seemed rather familiar. Astrid followed her gaze, then they both looked back at Astrid's top.

"Walter?" Olivia asked with a knowing quirk of the lips.

"Walter," Astrid said with a nod. "My birthday, last year. I was hoping I'd lost it somehow."

Astrid spoke to the others, spending extra time with John and James because it had been too long since she'd seen either. Walter told her she looked radiant, apparently remembering this time that her garment had come from him. She had a drink and then went for a refill, ignoring Olivia's order to stay put. The blonde chose not to follow her own advice, joining Astrid at the counter where the booze and the food had been set.

"Astrid, I've been meaning to say thank you." Olivia would've liked to do this in private, but there really wasn't a need. The others were all conversing in the living room and Walter had turned up the volume of A Christmas Story to near-deafening levels to drown them out. "I know it's not just Peter and the doctors who've helped Walter with the Cortexiphan. Peter told me you've been pulling double-duty with him and the Bureau. I keep wanting to tell you how grateful I am, but we always seem to miss each other, and things have been so crazy lately. And I didn't want to say it over the phone."

"You don't have to say it at all," Astrid countered, raising a hand to halt Olivia's words. "It's nothing, Olivia. Really."

"It is," the blonde insisted. "It always has been." Astrid was always there, for all these years. In the background most of the time, running errands and doing searches and keeping Walter in check. And doing so much more than that. Finding that one clue that the others had missed. Offering a kind smile and a sympathetic ear when Olivia came back from the Other Side and spent most of her days trying not to fall apart. Holding everyone together when Walter and Peter fought. When they found out that Peter had a child with the other Olivia. When Olivia told him she was in love with a terrorist, a woman. Astrid had done so much and Olivia knew that they'd thanked her for most of the little things, but not everything, not all it added up to.

"It's family," Astrid said simply, though she smiled at Olivia's words. Then the smile changed to something uncertain, and Astrid ducked her eyes for a moment.

"What? What is it?"

"It's…it's not just this family," Astrid said haltingly, nodding towards the group gathered in the next room. "My mother, she died of cancer."

"Oh God. Astrid, I'm sorry, I had no idea."

Astrid shook her head in the negative. She was the one who looked sorry. "I was really young when it happened, I barely remember her but…you know. If the Cortexiphan works, if I can help with this thing that helps Sarah, that has the potential to save so many others…"

Astrid shrugged and said nothing else. Olivia didn't need her to.

Nina was the last to arrive. She deposited her gifts under the tree, had a surprisingly civil exchange with Sarah, then pulled Olivia aside, away from the others. "Everything's set up," she said quietly. They were outside the blonde's bedroom, out of view from everyone else. Nina withdrew a set of documents from an inside pocket of her jacket and Olivia took them with a soft smile.

"Thank you. I really appreciate this. And thank you for bringing James onboard." Complaints aside, assisting in the ongoing revamp of Massive Dynamic's security was good for Sarah. The bulk of the responsibility wasn't hers, but it gave her something to focus on aside from her illness and her issues with John. It also forced a reconnection with James, something Sarah needed whether she'd admit it or not.

"James is a highly capable employee, and Sarah has a…unique brand of expertise. Nothing was done out of pity."

"I'd never think otherwise. Still, thanks again for this," said Olivia, holding up the papers.

"You're welcome. I hope it helps." A pause, a rare smile from the redhead. "Merry Christmas, Olivia."

Olivia returned the smile. "Merry Christmas, Nina."

Savannah knocked on John's door twice, entering without waiting for a response. He was sitting on the edge of the guest bed, and he jamming something in his pocket when she came in. Savannah raised an eyebrow without commenting on the action. "Dinner's almost ready, and Walter seems like he's about to break into Christmas carols. Peter says that we should all have to suffer equally if he does, so he told me to find you."

John smiled a little, holding her gaze. "Thanks. I'll be there in a minute."

Savannah nodded, but didn't move from the doorway. They stayed that way for long, silent moments.

"You can leave me alone, you know. Don't need an escort anymore." The words could've been laced with bitter sarcasm but they weren't. There was only amusement mixed with sadness.

"If you're thinking about being alone, then obviously you're not thinking about coming to dinner," Savannah retorted. She shut the door and came fully into the room, then she sat down on the bed. Not right next to him, but not as far away as she could be. "You hardly ever left me alone when I asked you to."

John's smile had been forced before. It stayed in place, but he let it become more wry as he ran a hand through his hair. "Would've been bad for you if I had."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Because it was bad for you?"

"Because it still is," John said quietly. "It's weird. This. Everyone here like this."

Savannah nodded. She'd been saying so for days. It was like Funworld, multiplied by ten. "Usually it's just us. You could've been here, you know. For Christmas, Thanksgiving. Hurt her when you weren't."

She should've sounded angry but she didn't, wasn't even trying to fake it. "I know. Would've hurt her even if I was here."

Savannah didn't contradict him. She was being so quiet, like she'd been when they first took her. The fear was all over her then, constantly. She'd been afraid to speak to his mother and John hadn't blamed her. He'd thought she might've eased up a little after Cameron disappeared, viewed it as a problem solved. She'd only gotten worse though. She dealt with Savannah only when she had to. Ellison was better, but he wasn't there all the time. Their resources were stretched so thin during those first days after Zeiracorp. No Derek. No Cameron.

John wasn't sure when, but at some point Savannah started to feel like his responsibility. Actually that was wrong. He did know. After they took her the first time, when he'd had his first real conversation with her. She'd said it was her fault that Derek was dead, that her nanny was dead. That she'd brought the bad men to her house because she hadn't listened. He hadn't known it at the time, but that was the turning point, when something shifted between them. Because he knew how easy it was, to take on all the responsibility, the blame. The death. He knew how quickly the bodies piled up, how easy it was to suffocate beneath them. He hadn't known Savannah then, but he knew he didn't want that for her.

So he'd tried to help, keep her from drowning in worry and solitude when Ellison wasn't around. It was hard though, attempting to connect with her when he'd had it so deeply ingrained that he was supposed to avoid those connections. That's what his mother had been doing. Avoiding closeness with Savannah because she couldn't afford it. Because she used up most everything she had on him. Him and the war.

Then Olivia came in. The others too, but Olivia was the important one. She took some of the burden away from his mother: she connected with Savannah in a way John hadn't been able to. There was a mix of relief and frustration then. Relief because he didn't want the responsibility of keeping Savannah from turning out like him. Frustration because it used to be his job and Olivia took it, did it better than he ever had. John witnessed the effect she had on Savannah and his mother, saw what happened when his mom had someone to lean on. The relationship with Savannah changed, got warmer by degrees. He saw hints of the parent he could've had if Sarah hadn't been charged with so much else besides being a mother to him.

He loved Olivia for doing that, helping his mother and Savannah that way. He loved her for that, but she also hurt him. Because their relationship wasn't like that, never could be. Olivia couldn't heal him the way she'd done for the girl, for his mother. And his mom wouldn't stay healed if he stuck around, if she realized how fucked up he was. She'd try to take his pain like she always did, but it wouldn't work, never had. And when she couldn't take it away, she'd spread it. The hurt that didn't stay trapped in her would spread to Olivia and Savannah.

Like a cancer.

He wasn't the one to save the world. He was there, he assisted, but most of the credit went to people older and wiser. Another job taken away from him. There hadn't been as much frustration about that, at least not at first. And afterward his mother and Olivia had taken the child and tried to build something. He was an adult by then, it was time for him to go in his own direction. It was easier than he'd ever thought, leaving. Because he wasn't all his mother had anymore, she didn't need to cling quite so tightly. And she hadn't. Eventually she'd let him go and it felt good, her not needing him in the same way anymore. It felt good, and it hurt like hell.

It was still so muddled in his head. He'd thought being back here might clear up his motives, but after a few weeks of trying to figure it out, he'd gotten nowhere. He wasn't sure if he'd left his mother and Savannah because he was too damaged to be around them or because he'd finally had the excuse, had simply taken it. He didn't think Savannah knew either.

"I missed you," she said suddenly, sounding almost surprised.

"Missed you too," he replied, meaning it. "Sorry."

Savannah shrugged. John was certain then, certain that she didn't know. Didn't know whether he'd run out on them or done them a favor. Because he had hurt Sarah by staying away, but he'd also allowed her to focus on herself, on Savannah and Olivia. That wouldn't have happened if he'd been here.

They stayed quiet for awhile longer. Then John stood up, stuffing a hand in his pocket again and looking towards the door. Savannah stood too and they left together.

As they sat down to dinner, Olivia locked eyes with all of them and raised her glass. She kept it simple, toasted to family and everyone clinked glasses. To various degrees, they'd all scattered after the world didn't end. They'd spent so long in such close quarters, dependent on each other for survival that they'd simply had to pull away some, once the opportunity was there. Olivia hadn't realized how much she'd missed her old Fringe colleagues, not until Sarah got sick and they rallied around her again. And she could see Sarah's joy at having John back. Strained as things might be, he was here, they weren't sitting across from an empty seat this Christmas. They'd needed to separate, all of them, resume their old roles or find new ones after Judgment Day came and went. Olivia just hadn't known how good it would feel to come back together again. It wasn't perfect, she wasn't oblivious to Sarah's reasons for suggesting this gathering. But Olivia chose to put those aside, as much as she could. They had hope now, the possibility that Sarah would be here to do this again. Tonight of all nights, Olivia had to grab that hope and hold tight. So she ate and she chatted with her friends, and then she served figgy pudding for dessert, much to Walter's delight.

Presents followed food, Walter being the most excited at the prospect of gifts. Sarah presented him with a large collection of classic vinyl. It was a selfish gift really, her wanting something different to listen to in the hospital, when his record player malfunctioned. Walter was happy regardless of her motives, and Sarah couldn't help smiling at his enjoyment.

When Sarah presented Nina with a large, thin box, Olivia couldn't help speaking up. "Sarah picked it out herself."

The nervousness in Olivia's voice both irritated and amused Sarah. "So you're disclaiming my gift and recusing yourself."

Olivia shrugged helplessly, a sheepish smile gracing her lips.

Nina was pleasantly shocked by the painting she received, eyes immediately landing on the artist's signature. The piece of art Sarah destroyed in Nina's office a few years ago was one of a kind, irreplaceable, but she'd managed to find something that came from the same hand.

"Thank you, Sarah. This is…very thoughtful."

Again Sarah was torn, between satisfaction at catching Nina off-guard and offense at the surprised faces of everyone around her. Still, she nodded at the redhead's look of gratitude, enjoying the feel of Olivia's fingers squeezing hers.

Nina presented James with a custom-made leather briefcase, in honor of his new position. To Savannah, she offered tickets to the musical Wicked, aware of the girl's fondness for The Wizard of Oz.

"You can come to New York," said Nina, eyes drifting between Sarah, Olivia, John and Savannah. "Make a day of it."

"You're spoiling her," Sarah chided.

James answered, giving the brunette a small smile. "It's been a long couple of years, don't you think?"

"Been a long couple of decades," Sarah retorted.

"Well then. I think we could all survive a little spoiling."

"I'll drink to that," Peter proclaimed, following words with action.

Walter, displaying a surprising knowledge of what his son would actually like as a gift, fell back as he usually did on Peter's childhood. The elder Bishop presented his son with a set of rare coins, recalling how Peter had collected them as a boy. Peter didn't bother pretending that he wasn't touched by the gesture. Sarah was happy for the Bishops, not so much for herself. She didn't know what John liked anymore, aside from computers. She didn't have the knowledge or the desire to go that route, so she ended up giving cash and a motorcycle helmet, and an only half-joking promise that she'd get him a truck if he traded in the bike. John gave her a flack jacket. He tried to pass it off as a gag but they both knew the truth. They didn't know each other anymore, neither of them. Sarah brooded about that for long minutes before Olivia squeezed her hand and spoke close to her ear.

"He's saving your life and you're letting him. I think you're covered on the gift front."

Sarah relaxed some after that, watched Savannah open the iPad she and Olivia had gotten her. It was the latest model, and John had 'modded it out' with a bunch of features that wouldn't normally be there. She and John hovered over the thing while other gifts were exchanged and they were still at it when all the presents had been opened, when Sarah was taking care of a few dishes.

"Here," said Peter, holding out his hands and stepping in front of the dishwasher. "Let me take those."

"Be my guest," Sarah replied. She'd had her fill of dishes and waitressing. "Thanks," she said, putting her back to him so she could pour herself a drink.

"No problem."

He started the dishwasher, was about to walk away from her. "I'm sorry," Sarah pronounced before he could leave. "That you're not with Henry."

Frowning, Peter turned and joined her at the counter, grabbing a glass from one of the upper cabinets. "I told you, Liv's got him at her mother's. It's not-"

"I've talked to her. The other one." Sarah felt a twinge, referring to the redhead that way. But she couldn't use that nickname, even if her girlfriend's doppelganger preferred it. "I know how much time you've missed with him because of me." She'd spent too many Christmases away from John, lost too much time. What they did have together, it hadn't been like this.

"It's not you so much as it is a bunch of misbehaving cells with an attitude problem. And I can't say why the idea of you and Liv getting all buddy-buddy terrifies me, only that it does."

Sarah scoffed, sifting through the long line of bottles until she found what she wanted. "Buddy-buddy is pushing it. A lot." It was harder to say that when she thought about Olivia's present, still hidden in their room. They'd chosen to exchange gifts privately, give themselves something to look forward to in case the night turned into a total disaster.

"Either way," said Peter, "don't worry about Henry. He understands."

"Does he?"

"He understands that I'm doing my best to help a friend who's a little under the weather."

Sarah filled her glass, releasing a wry chuckle. "There's one way of putting it."

Peter offered a sad smile that was also laced with fondness. "He told me to tell you that he hopes you feel better soon, wanted to know if you'd like a get well picture."

Sarah returned the smile, not caring in that moment that she didn't know the boy, not even caring about the union he'd been created from. "Love it. I'm sure it would be better than the one from Walter."

"Of course, you've got to give the kid more credit than that." In a different tone, "Look, I'm going to have plenty of time with Henry. I'll make time. After we're sure that you get to have plenty more time with John and Savannah."

It was a good moment, the kind she wasn't used to sharing with him. Sarah sipped her drink and made a noise of approval. "Walter was right," she said, answering before Peter could ask the question. "Said the drug might make the drinks taste better going down, don't ask me how."

"As a general rule, I try to ask as few questions as possible where Walter's concerned," Peter replied, nodding toward the bottle in front of her and sliding his glass across the marble countertop. "Do you mind-"

Sarah cut him off with a smirk and a shake of the head. "I have cancer, make your own damn drink."

He did. Then he produced a deck of cards and joined John and Savannah at the living room table so he could demonstrate the art of counting them.

"I can do that too, remember," said Olivia, walking past them on her way to the kitchen. "Did it ever occur to you that I might've had a reason for not teaching Savannah?"

"Obviously," Peter retorted, eyes ablaze with mischief as he looked at her. "The reason being that I am and always have been more fun than you."

Olivia had just reached Sarah's side when the back door opened. A blast of cold air preceded Astrid and James into the house. "It's freezing out there," said the blonde. "What were you two doing?"

They both stepped closer before answering. "You're going to want to keep Savannah inside," Astrid said in a low voice, a bemused smile pulling at her lips. "Walter and Nina are out there smoking something they both insist they have prescriptions for."

"Which I suppose is why Nina doesn't mind doing it in front of me," Ellison added.

"You're not FBI anymore. You signed a contract. She gave you a case. " Sarah countered. "She owns you now. And if she didn't, she could buy you ten times over. That's why she doesn't care."

He didn't bother accusing Sarah of overstating things. After Astrid and James had joined the others in the living room, Sarah turned to Olivia. She still had her drink, watched the blonde pour one of her own. "I once considered leaving him in a burning building you know," Sarah stated, nodding towards Ellison.

"No, you didn't," Olivia refuted. "Not seriously."

"Not seriously, but still. Now I'm spending Christmas Eve with him. He's here, your ex is here teaching Savannah how to cheat at poker, and two of the most powerful people in the world are smoking a joint in my backyard."

Olivia smiled ruefully, taking a sip from her drink. "I'm sorry. Maybe this wasn't the best idea."

Sarah shook her head and smiled in a way that was only meant for Olivia. "No," she argued, raising her glass slightly. "I'm happy."

The words and the look filled Olivia with her own sense of warmth. Grinning, she touched her glass to Sarah's and reveled in the moment.

Hours later, Sarah sat on her bed with a leg underneath her, a present in her lap, and a smile pulling at her lips. It was close to midnight and the guests were gone. John and Savannah had retreated to their rooms. Now she sat across from Olivia on the mattress, passing over a small, carefully wrapped box.

The blonde took the gift, returned the smile, tore delicately at the paper until she revealed a jewelry box from a store she didn't recognize. When she removed the cover, her breath caught. There was a necklace inside, a chain bearing a green pendant. The stone wasn't huge, she'd never been one for bawdiness, but its size wasn't what got her attention. The necklace caught the light in ways she'd never seen, shifted into different shades of green as Olivia watched.

"Matches your eyes." The words were soft, uncharacteristically self-conscious. "The way the shades change…" Sarah trailed off. She couldn't explain it properly, she only knew that she'd spent years studying those eyes, learning the secrets behind them, watching them change with Olivia's emotions. The necklace came as close as any material thing could to reflecting the beauty there, the intricacy.

"It does." Olivia held the chain delicately between her fingers, meeting a different pair of green eyes. "And it doesn't exist here, does it?"

Of course Olivia would notice. "Nope, exclusive to the Other Side, don't ask me to pronounce the name of the stone."

"When did you get this?" She couldn't think of when Sarah would've had the chance, when she could've slipped away. Then something else occurred to her. "You didn't…the other Olivia. Did she…?"

Sarah ducked her head, flashing briefly on Charley, on John picking out her engagement ring. "I chose it. She just confirmed that she'd like it. And if she'd like it, I figured you probably would too."

"And you needed her to confirm what I'd like?" Olivia couldn't resist. This was a rarity, Sarah being unsure of herself. Olivia couldn't miss the opportunity to have some fun.

"You hate me now," Sarah declared flatly. She was bad at gifts, always had been.

"Never," Olivia refuted, leaning in to press her lips against Sarah's. "Thank you," she murmured after long moments of delicious contact. "It's beautiful."

"That would be you," Sarah stated, planting another brief kiss against Olivia's mouth. When that contact broke, Olivia held the chain out in silent request. Sarah nodded, accepted it, waited for Olivia to shift. When she was facing the other woman's back, Sarah pushed blonde hair to one side, exposing the soft skin of Olivia's neck. She paused a moment, running the tips of her fingers along one particular spot. The tattoo they'd given her on the Other Side was long gone, but the outline was still visible. To Sarah, it symbolized all the scars her lover still carried from that time in her life. "I thought you could use something good from Over There. For a change." Watching her suffer through the Cortexiphan treatments on the Other Side would hardly generate fond memories for the other woman, but the dance at the bar had shown Sarah that that place and the things that existed there weren't all bad. She'd pushed Olivia's hair back in the kitchen, when they made love and then played True Confessions. The mark hadn't registered, not really, Sarah had been too preoccupied. But she'd also replayed those moments countless times in the last few weeks, searching for pleasant thoughts to get her through the pain from the Cortexiphan.

Olivia caught her breath again as Sarah clasped the chain around her neck. She knew the cool metal was resting against the tattoo. Sarah had commented on that when they first met, said it looked out of place on her. The brunette had started to know her even then, even during those first few hours. Olivia turned her head until she was kissing Sarah again, tangling her fingers in unruly locks. Her lover responded eagerly enough and Olivia lost herself in sensation for a minute, until she realized that Sarah was trying to ease her down against the mattress. With a lot of effort and some regret she pulled away, her breaths coming slightly ragged. "Haven't given you your present yet."

"I was working on getting that," Sarah said with a smirk, hand trailing along Olivia's left hip.

"Stop," said Olivia, struggling to put some firmness behind her voice as she caught Sarah's wrist. "For now," she added, smiling playfully as Sarah eased off of her, coming as close as Sarah Connor ever would to a pout. Olivia left the bed long enough to grab a stack of papers from her nightstand drawer, and then reclaimed the space in front of her lover. "Sorry, I didn't have time to wrap them."

Sarah took the documents with raised eyebrows. They contained specs on a property, a cabin she'd never seen. There were photos too. Multiple stories, a loft, porch that ran the length of the building, a boardwalk that led down to a lake.

"Four bedrooms, three baths. There's a gym. Plenty of space for weapons storage. Firepit in back, perfect for burning endos. And the place comes with a boat, so if we have to we can make a break for the lake."

Sarah half-laughed because Olivia was only half-joking. The blonde knew her too well. She couldn't speak though, so she waited for her lover to fill the silence.

"It's in New York, upstate. Empty indefinitely, so we can use it whenever. Obviously I didn't sign anything without you, but I've arranged it so we can go there sometime, see how we like it. We like it enough, it could be ours." A pause. "You said you wanted to hide away. In the bar, Over There. And you've told me how much you used to love your mom's cabin."

Sarah had loved the place in Big Bear, though her mother's murder by the first terminator had definitely tainted that affection. "I did, but you could fit three of those cabins into this one. And there's no way we can afford this." Especially considering the amount she'd dropped on Nina's painting. The woman had exceedingly expensive taste. Then something clicked in Sarah's head. "Nina?"

"It's a company retreat for Massive Dynamic executives, yes."

"Hence the tickets for Savannah, the incentive to visit New York. If she's talking to you about purchasing this, she must be giving you quite the discount."

"She is. Says it's repayment. To you."

"For what?" Sarah asked, confusion clouding her features. "Trashing her building?"

"Yes, actually. She said to thank you for checking out Massive Dynamic first instead of going straight to her apartment and shooting her in the head."

Sarah let out a wry chuckle. "I thought about going the other way, trust me."

"I know. So does she. But aren't you glad you didn't?"

Sarah laughed again, set the pages next to her on her on the mattress. "I thought I was doing pretty good this year, a necklace and a painting. Only to find that you two bought me a house."

"Rented you a house, for the time being, but that can change if we want it to." Olivia took one of Sarah's hands, taking it in hers and stroking the knuckles with her thumb. "I just thought it might be good for when you get better. You and I and Savannah, John if he wants to, we can just go. Be away for awhile. Breathe different air." Figure out how to be a family again, assuming John went for it.

"Alone in the woods," Sarah mused, "No one but ourselves for company. You sure we wouldn't kill each other?"

"That's the beauty of having so much space, room to escape if necessary." Olivia paused, letting go of Sarah's hand to push blonde strands out of her eyes. "We don't have to," she said, momentarily examining the bedspread. "It's just an idea, there's no-"

Sarah placed a finger on Olivia's lips, stopping the word flow. She spared another half-glance at the cabin photos. "Fireplace," she noted. "Before the machines, when I still had room in my head for it, I had a fantasy involving a fireplace."

"Meaning you wanted sex in front of one."

"Yeah. That."

Olivia smiled wickedly. "Everyone has that fantasy. You ever make it happen?"

Sarah shook her head. "Used a fireplace to heat something up when I had to cauterize a bullet wound once, that's about it."

"I'm pretty sure I can give you a better time than that. If you want."

"I know you can," Sarah said quietly. One of her hands drifted to the chain on Olivia's neck. Sarah traced the stone with her fingers and kept going up. She mapped the blonde's collarbone, her shoulder, her neck. "And I want."

That was all it took. They were slower this time at removing their clothes. The possibility of a cure had removed some of the urgency, the concern that this would be the last time they were together this way. Still, the printouts showcasing the cabin ended up scattered on the floor, and neither woman paused long enough to care. When Olivia's shirt was gone, Sarah kissed and licked her way up the same path her fingers had taken before. Then she made new ones, let Olivia do the same for her. For a short time, she thought about the cabin, how it would be good for her family to go there if the Cortexiphan didn't work, if she didn't make it. Then Olivia's teeth found her nipple and Sarah stopped thinking about anything that didn't involve pleasure.

They kissed, enjoyed the rush of skin on skin, reveled in the heat between them. They were naked, but the green of Olivia's necklace still shone between them. Sarah watched it move with Olivia's breaths, which were becoming more and more labored. She needed to be on top and Olivia let her. The Cortexiphan was making her feel better between treatments. She hadn't been this strong in awhile. Olivia didn't even ask her to stop, confirm that she was okay. In fact she had a very different reaction, the one time Sarah paused, overcome by an urge to really see the other woman.

"Sarah?" It was more a plea than a question. The brunette had two fingers buried deep inside her and a thumb over her clit, and suddenly she'd halted.

Sarah kissed Olivia's neck, her jaw, the corner of her mouth. "Hmmm?"

"You stopped," the blonde replied, her words leaving on a gasp.

Sarah put her forehead against Olivia's, joining their mouths together. "Not stopped," she promised after the contact was broken. "Never stopped. Just watching you for a second."

It'd been several seconds actually, all of them too long. So Olivia raised her knee, enjoying the heat and wetness and Sarah's gasp. She withdrew then, repeated, kept it up until Sarah was rocking against her and moving within her again.

Sarah was getting off against her and no matter how many times it happened, Olivia always marveled, considered it the greatest thing she'd ever seen. The sight alone would've been enough to finish her, even if Sarah hadn't resumed her activities. Olivia crashed then, pressing herself tighter against Sarah and biting her lip against the cries that wanted to escape.

Sarah watched her, watched her eyes go wide and slam shut, watched the emotion play out when they opened again. The stone really didn't do those eyes justice, but it was the best Sarah could find. Olivia's climax undid her and Sarah quickly followed suit.

After Sarah caught her breath, she began to move her hand, the one that was trapped between Olivia's thighs. The blonde halted her, slightly shaking fingers drifting downward.

"Don't," said Olivia, stilling Sarah's wrist. She hadn't realized what she meant to do until it happened. "Not yet."

"Okay," Sarah whispered, hardly needing to be convinced.

Eventually Olivia's body let go and Sarah regained the use of her dominant hand. She used it to pull the blonde close. They rested on their sides, facing each other, Sarah's arm draped over Olivia's torso.

"So you like the cabin?" Olivia asked. Her voice was slow and heavy with the weight of impending sleep.

Sarah chuckled and laid a kiss on Olivia's forehead. "Yes I like the cabin. I like you more."

Olivia smiled, Sarah's contentment mirroring her own. "Good to know."

"That would be you. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Sarah."