O' Christmas Tree

Author's Note: Fandom Aid on Live Journal set up a fandom auction for Hurricane Sandy Relief. The winning bidder was Laurel_Hardy and she pretty much gave me free reign on the subject of the fic, requesting: sweet, hot, Rizzles. Well, being that it's that time of the year, I just couldn't resist doing a Christmas fic. I've only ever written one other Christmas drabble so I figured, why the heck not! Will be 2-3 chapters, rating will probably change.


CH 1: Green the Whole Year Round

The contents of the backmost closet had seemingly multiplied. It was rarely opened more than twice a year. Hidden from daily view, sheltered from personal embarrassment and the prying, criticizing eyes of one Angela Rizzoli the items had somehow taken life and procreated. Maura had forced her to watch a documentary on asexual reproduction once.

"Partheno…nucleotic…meiotic fission or something," Jane muttered as she rummaged through the stored holiday trappings. "Scientific proof, Christmas bows can do it."

She honestly couldn't remember having put all that stuff in the closet. Sudden horror struck that maybe, just maybe, her mother had seen the catch-all closet and possibly even added to the mayhem. Jane hardly decorated; there was no way all of that stuff could be hers.

"Shit!" Jane ducked throwing her arms up to shield her head from the topple of boxes, wrapping paper, a few already purchased presents, and other accoutrements that came tumbling down from both sides. A solitary green Christmas ball slipped free from its tissue and rattled as it dinked and rolled across the floor behind her. A smirk curled one side of her mouth as Joe Friday nosed the ornament and made to snatch it up but thought better of it when her teeth clacked against foreign plastic rather than rubber or felt. Jane blew a puff of air and watched the stray strand of tinsel hanging from her head flutter in front of her eyes. She didn't even like tinsel.

There was really no point in being careful now; Jane shoveled the felled trim, decorations, and numerous tubes of wrapping paper out of her way by the arm full, making her way to the back of the closet where, hidden under the holiday disaster, lay the single most important object. Really, the only object of worth. She still wasn't sure where all of the rest of that crap had come from.

Three-feet long, the once white box was tattered, battered, discolored, and misshapen. The brand name and picture had long since worn off the label. A chunk of the cardboard corner tore off in her hand as she tugged it towards her. Like rings on a tree the strips of packing tape in various states of yellowing and disintegration, placed anew each year to reseal it, signified its age. Jane carried the box to the dining room table and popped last year's tape with her keys.

"O' Tannenbaum, O' Tannenbaum…something, something…about your branches," she sung quietly to the familiar tune as she chuckled at her lack of knowledge of the lyrics.

Green plastic legs popped into the base and two more segments notched together to form the tree. Tiny colored lights were already woven through the branches; Jane connected the ends from one tier to the other and then plugged the tree in, spending the next ten minutes hunting burned out bulbs in need of replacement. The metal and plastic spine of the tree was dented and bent slightly at the second tier from a decade of display and one rowdy bout of brotherly wrestling where Tommy and Frankie had knocked the tree from its perch and fallen on top of it to boot. The branches were gnarled, the flexible wire broken in unnatural ways on some of the offshoots. Once full and vibrant emerald artificial needles had dulled all over and fallen out in patches leaving sparse holes that Jane concealed with strategically placed ornaments. A Christmas bauble here, a clip-on bow there. All in all it took less than half an hour to have the tree put together, lit, and decorated. A silver star that never seemed to run out of transferable glitter despite being purchased at the dollar store and years of faithful use capped the top.

Jane stood admiring her quaint holiday tradition when the soft knock at the door that could only be Maura roused her from the humorous memory of Tommy rolling off the tree six years ago and trying to pluck the ornaments embedded in his back.

Maura bustled past her, arms laden with bags, stopping abruptly as she laid eyes on the tree. "What's that?"

"Maura, this…is a Christmas tree. People put them up around this time of year to you know…celebrate the birth of Jesus…"

Maura pursed her lips and cocked an eyebrow, "The use of evergreen plant decoration to symbolize eternal life dates back to many ancient cultures. The origin of the contemporary Christmas tree is historically thought to be a surviving practice of pre-Christian pagans that worshipped trees and other traditions of adorning the home with evergreen to ward off evil spirits…"

Jane covered her mouth to try and contain the giggle, though it slipped away, her eyes widening as she noticed tears begin to well up behind Maura's eyes.

"…it's just…" Maura set her bags down and clasped her hands together, fidgeting nervously, "…I though you were getting a real tree and that we were going to decorate it together."

"Oh…" was all Jane could think of in the moment. "I didn't even…this is the tree I put up every year, I mean, you've seen it before…and…my apartment is really too small for like, a real tree…" She watched as Maura nodded and lifted her finger to catch the tears that were beginning to trickle from the corner of her eye.

Maura shook her head, "It's silly…" But the tears wouldn't stop.

"No…no…no," Jane reached for her friend's hands and held them tightly, "Don't cry. Please don't cry. I can fix this!"

Sniffling, Maura watched Jane bolt for the back of her apartment. A slip and a crash followed, more ornaments and stored knickknacks spilled to the floor as Jane slogged through the guts of the disheveled storage closet towards her bedroom. Maura proceeded cautiously, curious as to what exactly Jane thought would fix it. Part of her felt immensely ridiculous for crying, it was only a silly holiday tradition. But, she never put up a tree of her own, volunteering to be on call for Christmas so those medical examiners with families in town could enjoy the holiday with their loved ones. Her parents had always liked to travel to warmer climates at this time of the year, so even as a child their family traditions were scant and very unlike the truly traditional. In college and medical school, she'd spent many Christmases alone, fearing travel would take too much time away from studying. She'd grown used to being alone. But her friendship with Jane changed all that, and now, staring in the face of disappointment she was truck by how much she wanted something that in the grand scheme of things should have been trivial.

She picked her way through the closet disaster and stepped into the doorway of Jane's bedroom to find her friend rooting through one of her dresser drawers. "It's ok, Jane. I overreacted. We can just hang some garland on your mantle instead, perhaps make a wreath for your door…"

"Aha!" Jane turned with an impish smile and held in her hands a knit beanie shaped like an elf's hat, complete with pointed ears, a giant white poof ball on the end and red braids that hung twelve inches on either side. It was the dirty Santa gift she'd been saddled with at the previous year's Homicide holiday party. "Get your stuff."

With the decorations that Maura had brought stored in her car Jane took the keys despite Maura's protest. Pulling the beanie from her coat pocket she pulled it down snuggly over Maura's head until it completely covered her eyes.

"Jane!" Maura gasped, reaching up to remove the hat only to have her hands batted away. "What are you doing!?"

"Fixing your Christmas."

Huffing, Maura crossed her arms, playing the petulant child much to Jane's amusement, "And how will giving me hat hair accomplish that?"

Jane laughed, tying the red braids under Maura's chin to keep the hat secure and Maura's vision impaired. Her hands lingered on the bow she'd tied as her finger brushed the underside of Maura's chin. A quick smile caught Maura's lips, a fleeting one, only for a moment before she reined it in. But, Jane had seen it and smiled in return. A gusty breeze ruffled the tail ends of Maura's hair that were hanging out from underneath the hat. Jane watched, endeared by the picture in front of her.

"I can't see," Maura stated as she reached blindly for the woman in front of her, fumbling until she found Jane's wrists and took hold of them to orient herself.

Turning Maura around, Jane eased her towards the passenger side of the car, opening the door and then turning her once again so that her back was to the vehicle. "I'm…pretty good at screwing things up. But, I think I'm pretty good at fixing them too. Trust me?"

The cap itched and Maura crinkled her nose and finally gave in, lifting one finger to scratch at the annoyance and then pulling the cap back down where it had ridden up. "Of course."

Settled in the car, Jane reached over and buckled Maura in, tugged on the hat one last time for good measure and then started the car. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Maura tapped her legs to try and fight the cold while the heat kicked in. They sat for a few moments as Jane painstakingly scrolled through the radio stations until she finally located the one that had morphed into twenty-four hours of Christmas hits the week before Thanksgiving. Already!? She had moaned those couple of weeks ago. Now, however, she was glad for it as a cheery rendition of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer filled the car.

"Ready?" Jane teased as she started to drive.

Maura turned her head, looking as absurd as Jane had imagined she would when she decided to find the elf hat. "I don't know. Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Maura reached up to lift one corner of the hat from her eye but was swiftly met with chastisement and Jane pulling the hat back down and holding it in place.

"I didn't mean, right now," Jane rolled her eyes as she often did when Maura took something too literally, even though she knew the woman next to her couldn't see it. "Trust me…remember?"

Silence settled for a block of their drive, the smile never leaving Maura's lips. "Always," she said softly as Jane continued to drive.