HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE! I hope you'll remember the allusion to this Christmas party from the epilogue, when April was looking at the pictures on her vanity. I didn't really have a choice but to make this my holiday one-shot to put us all in the spirit. I hope all of your Christmases/Hanukkahs/Kwanzaas/anything else you celebrate, are as merry and bright as Jackson and April's!

…

I'm lying on the couch by the Christmas tree, taking a nap wearing one of Jackson's hoodies, when the front door bangs open.

"Baby," Jackson says, out of breath from the six flights of steps leading up to our place. "I'm home."

"I'm napping," I murmur, turning on my side away from him, knowing he'll come and get me.

I'm not disappointed. Moments after the bags hit the floor, footsteps cross the room, and his hands are on my waist. His freezing hands.

"You're cold!" I say, flipping over to look at him. "And all snowy!"

"It's snowing out," he says. "Here, wait. Hold on. I won't get it on you."

He takes off his hat, coat, and boots, then comes back. This time, I greet him with open arms and puckered lips. He kisses me, then pulls away with a smile.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he says. "Cookie-making tire you out?"

"Yeah," I say. "Come here."

"Make room," he says, and I widen my legs so he has room to set a pillow there and lie with his head between them. As we talk, I run my fingers over his scalp in the way he loves.

"What did you buy?" I ask, eyeing the bags he left by the door.

"A few decorations for the tree," he says. "And your outfit for the party later that follows the guidelines you sent."

"What'd you find?"

"Green skirt, red sweater with snowflakes," he says. "Black tights."

I close my eyes and can't help but giggle. "Jackson, that doesn't even come close to matching," I say.

"What do you mean?" he says. "They're Christmas colors. And the snowflakes are cute. The small looked too big, but that's what you said. So, I didn't get extra small."

"Extra smalls are too short," I murmur, then feel one of his hands on my shin. "And I thought we weren't getting decorations for tree. She's beautiful the way she is, and… we don't have that much extra money, baby…"

He tips his head up, raising his eyebrows to meet my eyes. "I made it work," he says. "She needs a little bling. Come on. She's naked."

He flips over on his stomach and crawls up my body as I let him.

"And the only one I want naked around here is you," he says, then kisses me with a smile still on his lips.

The kiss deepens, and I firmly hold his head between my hands and open my eyes. "We have to get ready," I say.

He sneaks a hand up my torso to palm my breast, thumb swiping over the underside. "You're no fun," he murmurs, tipping my chin up with his nose so he can kiss my neck. His lips are slow, tongue warm, as he showers me in affection that apparently built up over the two hours we spent apart.

"And I wanna see what you got for tree," I say, and shove him gently off. "Come on, show me."

He huffs as he sits up. "This is your fault," he says, eyes darting to his crotch where he's sporting a very obvious bulge.

I giggle to myself as he walks over and grabs the bags. First, he shows off the outfit he got me - which is as badly paired as I imagined, but endearing - then, the sweater he got himself. After that, comes a strand of popcorn strung together, one box of lights, a set of five bauble ornaments, and a wooden star.

"This was the best I could do," he says, and if I'm not mistaken his voice sounds a little downtrodden.

"Why're you upset?" I ask, crouching on the floor to open the lights. "This is great. She's gonna look really good."

He shrugs. "I don't know. You're right, we are tight on money, especially around Christmas. And I'm just so not used to that, you know?" He sighs. "I wanna give you the best. My best isn't popcorn and cheap mirror balls."

"Maybe not the best ever," I say, setting the lights down as they're still tied together. I crawl over to him on my hands and knees and give him a peck on the cheek, which he leans into. "But it's the best for right now. And what matters is that you have me, and I have you. That's all I could ever ask for."

A smile sneaks onto his lips as he makes eye contact. "You really mean that, or is Christmas just making you sappy?"

"Of course I mean it," I say, stringing my arms around his shoulders.

He kisses me on the lips with his hands at the small of my back, trailing lower to pat my butt a couple times. "Okay," he says. "Then let's do this thing."

Once the tree is almost all the way decorated, the only thing left to put on is the star.

"Would you do the honors?" he asks, handing it over.

I nod and hold the small thing in my hands, leaning forward to reach the top of our small tree easily. I situate it on the top branch, then take a step back to admire our work. Jackson's arm winds around my waist, pulling me close, and I rest my head on his shoulder as we stare at our dimly-lit, scarcely-decorated, little tree.

It might not be all that fancy, but it's ours and that's what matters.

We get in the shower together, deciding to save time and water, which are both of Jackson's arguments that I'm fully aware don't hold up. We'll end up taking double the amount of time each of our separate showers would take, which wastes both time and water. But even so, I don't argue. I want to be close to him as much as he wants it with me. I have no reason to fight.

Once the water is warm enough, I pull back the curtain and get in first. Almost immediately, he follows and pins me against the tile with a grin, one hand pressed to either side of my head.

"What're you doing?" I ask, as if I don't know.

"Kissing my girlfriend," he says, one hand low on my hip. He opens his mouth against mine and slips his tongue inside, and I close my eyes and melt further against the wall with a small whimper of approval.

I grip his strong shoulders in my hands, pulling him closer as my thumbs trail up his neck. He tips my head to one side and runs his tongue over the swell of my throat, sucking on the skin gently enough to not leave marks. He nuzzles his nose against the divot of my collarbones, tracing the angle of both with his pointer finger, then curves his spine forward to take my nipple between his lips.

"Mm, Jackson," I breathe, running my hands down his back as far as I can reach while he pays attention to my chest. The heat between my legs is insistent and throbbing, so I take his wrist and direct it there.

He chuckles softly and strokes my outer lips with two fingers, slowly and deliberately, before slipping them inside. "You're wet," he whispers.

I push his hair back, which creates a spray of water. "So are you," I reply, which makes him laugh.

Soon, he's giving me head while on his knees, one of my legs thrown over his shoulder while he holds my hips in place. The water pounds his back and when he looks up at me through his eyelashes, I take a firm fistful of his hair and turn to mush against the wall as I have a powerful, drawn-out orgasm.

I'm panting when he stands back up and turns me around, placing my hands flat on the tile.

"Do I need a condom?" he asks.

"No," I say, arching my back. "I'm on the pill. Remember?"

It wasn't that long ago that he came with me to Planned Parenthood for moral support while I figured out what to do about my female health after being kicked off my parents' insurance.

"Yeah," he says. "But do you want me to wear one anyway?"

"No," I say, shaking my head. "It's okay, baby. Thank you, though."

"Mm-hmm," he says, planting a sure kiss between my shoulder blades. He holds my hips tight, then pushes his way inside me, causing my mouth to fall open and my eyes to flutter shut.

My head falls so my wet hair lies in dripping strands around my face, and Jackson starts thrusting. I love the sounds he makes - the rhythmic, guttural groans as he buries himself inside me and makes my body his. I push back against him as his hands travel to find my breasts, where he holds on and squeezes tighter as the moments pass and he gets closer.

With a swift motion, he pulls me to stand up straight so my back is flush against his torso. He presses a line of kisses over my shoulders, across the nape of my neck, and tightens his arms across my stomach while still grinding against me.

As the angle changes slightly, I gasp dramatically and grapple for his hands, digging my nails in once I find them. "Right there," I whimper.

"That's the spot?" he asks, repeating the motion slower and smoother. "Right there, baby?"

My eyelids sink. "Oh… god, yes. Yes, right there."

I turn my head to the side and he kisses me intensely while I come, and he doesn't take long after to let go himself, hips bucking and jerking against the back of mine.

We clean ourselves under the water, laughing and talking about what the party will be like as we suds each other up. When I get out, one towel wrapped around my head and the other around my body, he follows and nonchalantly kisses the side of my neck as he stands behind me and grabs his own towel to wrap around his hips.

"I love you," he says.

I turn the radio on - Christmas music is playing.

"I love you, too," I say.

After we get ready for the party, I'm standing in front of the mirror in the hall looking at the outfit Jackson picked for me. The red and green are brash against each other, my hair clashes with the color of the sweater, but there's not much I can do to fix it at this point.

"You look awesome," Jackson says, coming from the bedroom and pulling on the collar of the shirt he's wearing underneath his green sweater.

I turn around to face him. "I don't match," I say.

"Shush," he says. "At least you're not choking. This thing is… Jesus, I can't get this. Suffocating!"

"Here," I say, and stand on tiptoe to pull the collar through the way it's supposed to go. I smooth each side down and feel his eyes on me; when I'm done, he leans forward to press a kiss to my forehead.

"Thanks, babe," he says.

We take the train to Lexie's apartment, which is already lit up and buzzing with activity. When we go inside, hand-in-hand, after ringing the doorbell to be let up, we're met at the door by Mark who's holding a bundle of mistletoe.

"Merry Christmas!" he says, then holds it over our heads. "Know what this means?"

I roll my eyes playfully. "You're stupid," I say.

"You know the rules," he counters. "Kiss your man."

I lean into Jackson and he holds my face, deepening the kiss I had meant to be just a peck. We get whoops and hollers from people scattered throughout the room, and when we break apart, my face is fire-engine red.

"Now we're talkin'!" Mark shouts, then holds the mistletoe between himself and me. "Well, hey… would you look at that…"

Jackson rolls his eyes now. "Get a life," he says, and they both laugh as we make our way further into the party.

"Hey guys!" Lexie enthuses, pushing her way through a few people with a short, clear glass in one hand filled with amber-colored liquid. "You made it! Here, let me take your coats." Once she comes back after putting our coats away, she gives us each a hug. "I'm really glad you're here. Mark's been asking for you, Jackson."

"You're highly coveted," I say, patting his chest. "Go find him. I'll stay here."

He smiles and kisses the side of my hair. "Do you want something to drink?" he asks.

"No, I don't-"

"Oh, look at that! Mistletoe!"

I look behind us and there Mark stands again, holding the mistletoe above our heads. His face is flushed and he's laughing boisterously, which tells me he's gotten a head start on the alcohol.

"Kiss 'er, Avery!"

Jackson's lips pucker in a smile he tries to fight as he holds the back of my head and kisses me. "There," he says to Mark. "Happy?"

"Extremely," Mark says. "Follow me. Let me show you the most decked-out booze table you've ever seen."

Jackson squeezes my wrist as a goodbye, and I'm left standing across from Lexie as she sips her drink and shakes her head. "Mark's been looking forward to you guys being here all day," she says. "It was cute."

"I'm glad he and Jackson get along," I say. "Maybe they're the match made in heaven here."

Lexie laughs, leaning forward and capping one hand over my shoulder. After she straightens up, her eyes travel down my body and take in my outfit.

"You're very festive," she says, holding back her giggles.

I pluck at the fabric of the sweater and give a lighthearted sigh. "Jackson picked it out."

"Is he color blind?" she asks.

"I seriously think we need to make a trip to the eye doctor," I say, laughing. "I know it's awful. But I didn't want to hurt his feelings by not wearing it, he tried. And he said I looked cute."

"Of course you look cute," Lexie says. "God, you guys are adorable. Is he always so sweet?"

"He's good to me," I say. "And I'm good to him. I don't know, that's just how we work."

A little bit later, as Lexie and I sit on the couch, Mark and Jackson saunter up to us. Jackson has a drink in hand that he gives to me, with a loopy smile on his face.

"Here you go, baby doll," he says, and I notice his words slurring right away.

"Are you a little drunk?" I ask him, smiling as I take the drink.

"Hmm… little, lots, I'm not drunk, punk," he says, then giggles. Jackson only giggles when he's full of alcohol, and I find it adorable.

"Who you callin' punk?" I ask, and he bursts out in louder laughter.

"Mistletoe!" Mark cheers, and holds it above our heads while chanting: "Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her!"

With a plop, Jackson deposits his body on my lap. I make an 'oof' sound and Lexie takes my drink just in time so it doesn't spill, then I wrap my arms around my boyfriend so he doesn't flop to the ground.

"What do you think you're doing?" I squeal, as he adjusts.

"Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!"

Jackson plants a big one one my lips, and his mouth tastes like brandy and scotch. I trail my fingers down his cheek as he pulls away, saying, "My lovey drunk has come out to play."

"Mmm…" he says, leaning forward and burying his face in my neck. I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my cheek against him, laughing as he does. "I've been a good boy this year, Santa. For Christmas, I want a… I want a… Mercedes Benz."

"Santa says, keep dreaming," I say.

"Aw," he says. "Okay, fine. Then… all I want for Christmas is to cop a feel."

I press my lips together and try to keep my blush at bay as I roll my eyes towards the ceiling. Mark and Lexie laugh as Jackson's hand sneaks up my torso, but I bat it away before it can get to my chest.

"All you're getting is coal," I say, and shove him playfully off my lap.

He stumbles to his feet, the flush of alcohol painting his face now, too. "At least I know what I'm getting you…" he half sings, half slurs.

"What's that?" I ask, eyebrows up.

He leans forward, one finger to his lips. "Shhh…" he says. "We're in mixed company."

"Jackson!" I say, and kick his thigh with my tights-covered foot. "Go away, you two."

Mark and Jackson stumble away, still laughing, and I turn back to Lexie with a smirk on my face.

A while later, after everyone who's supposed to come to the party has arrived, I'm standing in front of the Christmas tree admiring the lights. It's a bit more done up than mine and Jackson's, more like what I was used to at home. I can see myself in the reflection of a blue bulb, and when I get closer, the fisheye makes my head disproportionately large. I chuckle at the image and turn around as I hear the sound of very drunk, male giggling in the next room over.

Investigating, I set my ginger ale down and walk to the source of the sound, which happens to be the den. What I find there is Mark and Jackson laughing their asses off as they try to fit Jackson inside a TV box that is obviously much too small for him.

"Carry on!" Mark says, waving me along. "Nothing to see here, carry on!"

"Carry on my wayward son…" Jackson sings, eyes closed with feeling.

Deciding to stay out of whatever trouble they're stirring up, I make my way back to where I was standing. I catch up with Arizona, who I haven't seen in a while, and find out that she's doing well at the University of Michigan. She tells me she's dating a girl, and I pretend to be surprised. I can tell she's happy, which is something she's always deserved.

As the night pushes on, I start to get tired and know it would be smart to get going soon. Lexie offered Jackson and me their couch, but I promise her we can get home fine if we leave at a reasonable time. I want to be in our little apartment, with our cute tree, just the two of us.

"Do you know where Jackson is?" I ask Lexie, a gingerbread cookie in my hand.

She shakes her head. I bite off the gingerbread man's arm.

"Last time I saw him, he was with Mark in the den."

"Yeah, he was trying to stuff my drunk boyfriend into a TV box," I say, snorting.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay getting him home?" Lexie asks. "He's a big goof. I don't want him to give you trouble on the way."

I wave her off. "He's my big goof. I know how to handle him. He'll wanna make out with me on the train, that's all. He's harmless. Worst he'll do is strip off all his winter gear once we get to our sidewalk and claim he's not cold."

Lexie laughs because she knows I'm right.

"Mark?" she calls out, watching me grab my coat. "Come out. Jackson and April need to leave."

"Come in here!" we hear, and then look at each other.

"Where?" she asks.

"Den!"

We shoot each other another confused look, but follow the voice. When we get to the den, Mark is standing in the entryway looking very smug and proud of himself.

"What are you doing?" Lexie asks.

"I just wanna give April her present," he says.

For a moment, I believe him. "What do you mean?" I ask. "I'm so sorry, I didn't get you anything. I feel horrible now."

"Don't worry," he says. "I didn't spend a dime."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, peering around his shoulder. Mark steps to the side and I cover my mouth as I see what the two of them have done. There's a package exactly Jackson's height standing up, hastily wrapped with wrapping paper, a big bow stuck to the top. Where its shoulders should be are trembling with laughter, and I decide to play along.

"Wow, I wonder what it could be…" I ask, stepping closer. "I wish Jackson were here to see this. This present really reminds me of him. Like how he's ticklish right… here…"

I jam my fingers into his waist, and he tries to squirm away but the paper keeps him standing here he is.

"Or here…" I say, getting at his neck.

"Okay, okay, okay!" he says, barely lasting long at all. He pushes the paper away from his face and smiles at me, eyes sparkling.

I beam up at him. "My favorite gift," I say, and as I wrap my arms around his waist the paper crinkles. "Mark," I say, tossing the words over my shoulder. "Mistletoe, please."

He fulfills his purpose for the last time tonight and holds it over our heads, and I give Jackson a big kiss while holding his cheeks in my hands. When I pull away, he rests his forehead against mine and says, "Merry Christmas, baby."