AN: A little Christmas fluff from our favorite young couple.

Christmas Eve 1987

Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open, but she did not move. She could feel the steady thrum of Henry's heartbeat beneath her cheek and she breathed out a contented sigh.

Across the small living area in Henry's apartment, the TV showed the striped rainbow of the network having long since ended it's broadcast day. The colored bulbs of the single strand of Christmas lights hung around the window and gave the room a cozy glow. She smiled.

Carefully extricating herself from Henry, she adjusted her clothing before bending down to pick her purse up where it lay crumpled at the end of the couch. She removed a small box and tiptoed to the tree. It was a beautiful tree. Elizabeth's hand gingerly touched the cedar branches and inhaled the scent. It smelled like Christmas.

A little over a month ago, when Henry had asked her to bring ornaments from her childhood, Elizabeth had been confused. He told her it was important, so she spent a few hours of her Thanksgiving break digging through Joan's attic going through the boxes of old Christmas things that had been moved from the horse farm.

That Sunday night, armed with her box, she knocked on Henry's door. When he opened the door, she saw the tree. Slipping his arm beneath her coat and around her waist, he pulled her close. "Welcome back, babe. I missed you," he whispered against her lips just before he pulled her top lip between his and kissed her until her knees turned to jello.

When he released her, she studied his expression before peering around to look at the bare tree. "What's this?" she asked as she set her box down on the arm of the couch and shed her coat, letting it slide off the cushion and onto the floor.

Henry followed behind and picked up the object and tossed it back onto the couch. Standing beside her, he linked his fingers with hers. "You deserve to celebrate Christmas again. Come on." Henry prodded her to go into the kitchen where bags of popcorn kernels were stacked on the counter. "I got extra because I guessed you would eat half of it." Elizabeth giggled and shoved him playfully.

That night, they strung popcorn and hung lights and Henry pulled his box of ornaments from home and explained why each was special and then asked Elizabeth to do the same. When they were finished, Elizabeth looked at the tree they made together and tears welled up,pooling in her lashes. Henry took her in his arms and hugged her tightly.

From that night forward, Henry and Elizabeth had done everything Christmas. They went to the Christmas parade in town and walked through Santa's Village, collecting their candy canes while sipping hot cocoa. They went shopping to buy toys for kids for a local charity. Henry hung a stocking to her dorm door and randomly put little treats in it for her.

Now, she held the box and took a deep breath. Lifting the flap, she pulled the plastic tray out. Carefully lifting an ornament from the molded plastic, she inspected in as it lay in her palm. A little boy held hands with a little girl, a heart surrounded them. Inscribed on the heart were the words, "Our First Christmas 1987."

Henry grew chilled without Elizabeth as a blanket and opened his eyes to see her standing in front of the tree. He watched her and when she didn't move, he stood and moved behind her. Just as he was about to engulf her, she murmured to herself. "How do I get the words out? How do I tell Henry I love him?"

Henry froze, and smile erupting across his face.. "I love you too," he said.

Elizabeth whipped around and Henry caught her. "I-I-I didn't mean-" Elizabeth stuttered.

"Oh, okay, but I did. I love you Elizabeth Adams, with my whole heart and I want you to be by my side forever." She tilted her head up, so her lips met his at just the right time, and he kissed her in that way that lit her on fire.

She gave him a shy smile. "I love you," she whispered. She rested her head against his shoulder and let him hold her. Finally, she broke the embrace. "I got us something."

She pressed the ornament into his hand. "Our tree has your ornaments and mine, but this one is ours."

"The first of many," he said softly, pulling her close again, committing this moment to memory. He held it up and she took it as well, placing it on the branch together.

"The first of many," she agreed.