She woke up slowly. She was lying on a hard wooden floor in a small walk-in closet. A few shirts were hung over her head. She was covered with a thin blanket and had a small throw pillow propped under her head.

She blinked several times and looked down. She was still in the gown and pants from the hospital but the strait-jacket was gone.

Slowly it came back to her: Pyro, the fire, the snow, their 'escape' from the institution….

She shook her head. It felt remarkably clear now that they weren't medicating her every two hours. She had no idea how long she had slept but her thinking was definitely returning to normal now.

God help them! She shook with rage. If my father thinks… But she couldn't imagine what Magneto could have been thinking.

She snatched down one of the tee shirts and pulled it on. She found a pair of oversized jeans under the throw pillow and pulled them on. It's not even a bad fit… She thought. I must have lost weight in the hospital…

Then, she tried to hex the door right off it's hinges.

But nothing happened.

Damn… Head's not clear enough yet… Then she searched the closet for a weapon – but found nothing. So, instead, she did the next best thing.

Wanda burst out of the little closet, her eyes wild with mistrust and suspicion, her fists clutched in to tight balls ready to strike. "What am I doing here?!?" She demanded.

Pyro was just standing there, smiling, and staring out the corner of a window. He too was in street clothes instead of his uniform. He jumped slightly when she stormed in but he didn't really move.

"Well…" He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down for a moment. "It's just that…"

She studied him. He looked uncomfortable with the question and he had very obviously been beaten recently. But… in all honesty she had to admit, he looked … well … happy. And not at all threatening, menacing or suspicious. She glanced around and recognized the place. It was an old safe-house that Magneto had abandoned long ago although she had never seen it this clean before.

"Everyone else you see…" He stammered.

She cast her eyes around the tiny room. He had obviously taken great care in decorating it. Christmas lights lined the room at the ceiling, twinkling slowly and casting odd shadows as they did. A small wreath hung over the window, concealing most of the view. Two stockings were stuffed with an assortment of things and hung from the windowsill. A small tree sat on the table, dotted with tiny round bulbs of every color and miniature firey-red strands of tinsel. The base of the table was surrounded by brightly wrapped presents – Some of which had her name on the tags. The one she could obviously read from where she stood claimed to be from Santa. A small battered radio was tuned to a local channel playing Christmas carols so softly she could barely hear them.

"They had, you know … Other things and …Someplace to… ummmm…" He shrugged, avoiding her eyes.

A coffeepot behind him was steaming quietly and she could smell the thick odor of hot chocolate in the air. A bag of mini-marshmallows sat next to it with a few unused coffee mugs. Just to one side of the coffeepot was a hot plate that was warming what looked like four TV dinners still under their foil covers.

"And I just thought that … you know … maybe… Since you weren't really busy…" His eyes were darting from the gifts to the food and she relaxed her stance as the truth became crystal clear to her.

He was lonely.

"I don't really… celebrate … Christmas…" She said slowly looking around and feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"Oh, no… Me neither… that is …" He swallowed and looked almost sad. "I mean… I don't really believe in the Israelite or anything but…"

"But…" She interrupted. "It is a… Ummm… nice… The time of year I mean… Everyone seems to… umm…"

"Exactly!" He finally met her eyes and looked somehow relieved. "Everyone's just a little more … " He searched for the word but it didn't come.

"Yeah." She said softly. "I know."

And his eyes lit up like a child's as the idea occurred to him. He dove past her and grabbed a small package from near the table. "I saw this and just thought…" He smiled a bit. "I thought you'd like it." He said plainly.

Slowly she lowered herself down on to the couch and with shaking hands she reached out and took the gift. It was wrapped in green paper and tied with a gold reflective ribbon.

"I…" But she didn't know what to say.

"Open it." He whispered imploringly, as though he might burst if she didn't.

She caught herself sniffling from the emotion of surprise and she tore the paper open to reveal the box. It was a fancy gift box and she lifted the lid off with great care.

Inside was a gothic leather choker, trimmed in lines of chain-mail. "Oh, wow." She breathed lifting it from the box. No one had ever gotten her such an accurate gift. If she had the chance – she would have bought it for herself. She hugged it to her chest without thinking.

"I…" She looked at him again, this time, like someone she had never seen before. "Thank you." She breathed. "I wish I could have…" She cast her eyes over to the pile of gifts and was stunned to see that – he had addressed some of the gifts to himself – and signed her name to the tag.

Fighting the desire to point out how psycho that was, she instead reached over slowly and took one of them from the pile and handed it to him.

"Merry Christmas John." She said softly.

"I wonder what it is." He held the box to his ear and shook it like a little kid. She laughed without thinking.

"No, really." He smiled. "I had to beat myself in the head to get committed. A lot of things are a little fuzzy right now." He explained.

And after a slight hesitation they laughed at that together while he happily tore open his gift.

-Fini.-

Authors Note: This story is (obviously) set before Wanda's 'conversion' to Magneto's side.