Georgie didn't need to even know Dillon as well as she did to know what was obvious and right in front of her. He was hurting. Fighting with his mother had done something to him that he didn't like. He hated fighting with her. He might have hated being her son, at least on some level. She wrapped her arms around Dillon, embracing him, giving him the support that he no doubt needed.

"Why do we have to be so different?" Dillon asked, returning the gesture in kind, feeling Georgie intertwined with him filling him with a small amount of comfort and happiness. Not enough to knock out the impression that his mother had left on him. Her mark on his soul would always be there.

"You're a better person than Tracy, Dillon. You're kind, sweet, funny, loving, helpful. Those are all the things that your mother doesn't even understand. She might know what they mean, but that's it. She can't be that type of person, but you can."

"But why can't she be?" Dillon asked. "I mean, how can I be so different from the woman that raised me, from the woman that I spent most of my life being around. She was the only person I had around me for years and years, Georgie. None of her varied little boyfriends, flings of the moment ever stuck around, and they hardly ever paid any attention to me. I had to get this from someone… and if I didn't get it from her…"

"Then maybe you got it from your father?" Georgie went with the most obvious answer. When she said it she tried to correct her error, "I'm sorry, Dillon, I didn't mean for it to…"

"No, it's okay." Paul Hornsby. The man that he knew if only by name, maybe a few pictures that he had convinced his grandmother to let him see when his mother was far away. Lila was hesitant at first, reluctant to open up the can of worms that could have come from doing something like that. But Dillon pointed out to her that he had a right to at least know what his father looked like, and she knew he was right. But those pictures were at least fifteen years old. There was no telling what Paul looked like now. Or even if he was still alive. Even though Dillon knew what he looked like, knew his name, he never once tried to actually find his father. Maybe he was just afraid of finding someone that he didn't like. Someone that was like his mother in some strange way, a parent that was a parent in name only, not really in spirit. Tracy tried to be the best mother that she could be, but nurturing was never her strong suit. "Could we please talk about something else, Georgie? I won't let her get to me like this. Not today."

"Come here," Georgie dragged Dillon. Some would think that it was to place distance between Tracy and Dillon, and while that may have been true it wasn't really her intent. When she stopped pulling, she smiled, looking up at him. "There we go."

"What?" Dillon asked. "Why'd you take me here… I mean, it's not like we went anywhere special."

"Oh, but we might have," Georgie pointed upward. "What do you see there?"

Dillon smirked, "I do believe that's Mistletoe…"

"And what…"

Before Georgie could finish asking the obvious question, she felt his lips on hers. Sensual, brisk, warming. An escape from the rigors of their actual lives, finding sanctuary in their shared bond, the only place where they were the only two people that mattered. It was their favorite place to be.

"You know…" she said softly as they finished with their warm embrace, "that could just well be the best Christmas present I've ever gotten from anyone."

"I'd certainly hope that it was the best kiss you've ever gotten from one of your boyfriends at Christmas, unless the person who holds the record already is me, then I'm okay with it."

"You're the only person that's ever owned that part of me, Dillon, you know that."

"Yeah, I do know," Dillon was glad that he had Georgie. Life without her wouldn't have been worth living.

"You haven't even commented on the outfit yet," Georgie didn't hate the outfit as much as Maxie, but it still wasn't her favorite thing to wear. "Please, be brutally honest if you have to, just don't make me cry. Elves can't cry."

"I'd be the most horrible person on the face of the earth if I made you cry at Christmas… well, tears of pain, anyway. Georgie, you look great, really. Too bad they didn't put money in the budget for fake ears."

"You're not suggesting that I have pointy ears… are you?"

"I'm a director, remember? I have a vision, and my elves have pointy ears, like Link! But then you'd have to carry around a sword and a shield for that one to work out… so we'll just go with looking like the elves on Christmas specials. They have pointy ears, too. Still, fake ears or not, you look as elf-like as you need to in order to make the kids happy. They even gave you those cute little shoes with the points."

"Those are new," she pointed out. "Elizabeth made them herself."

"She does good work."

"You really like them?" An idea popped into Georgie's head at that moment, "If you want, I could commission her into making some of these for you. They could take a lot of material, though. Big feet and all."

"They look cute on you, Georgie. Little elf booties on males don't do much for a public image… Dick Ward can assure you on such things. He still has nightmares of the booties when he was playing Robin. No, my feet shall remain like they are, with boots. Boots, not booties."

Elevator-

Two generations of Adella's bloodline stood next to one another in the elevator of General Hospital. After the initial pep rally at Ric's apartment, getting him to the hospital wasn't that hard. He looked better, too. Shaved, dressed in something that was publicly acceptable, and hopefully not nervous enough to stumble and fall over his own two feet.

"How many times have I thanked you for helping me out?" Ric asked, not looking at Damian, just looking at the numbers on the elevator, tensing up a little each time as they went up another floor. One floor closer to the floor where Elizabeth was.

"Eight, now," Damian had been watching him. "Please don't worry about it. I'm just glad that you managed to shave without slicing yourself up, oh, and the fact that I didn't have to carry you into the bathroom was a plus."

"The house looked good. I couldn't have done a better job myself."

"Trust me, I just put those things in places where they seemed like they fit. There wasn't any sort of organization to that whole setup. I'm a lot like you, Uncle Ric, I'm not a fan of Christmas."

"So, how do you manage to keep on living through the holiday year after year?"

"I remember that there are people who love this holiday, and I remember that I have no right to push my own pain on them, to make them miserable for something that they have no control over. I accept that people want to be happy around the holiday, and I do my best to make sure that they have a Christmas that they want."

"You are a strange, strange young man, Damian."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is," Ric saw that they were only one floor away from hitting the floor where the party was. It was now or never. "Is there anything wrong with me? Hair messed up, tie not straight, am I wearing matching socks?"

"You're fine, Uncle Ric. You probably could have done without that much cologne. What'd you do, empty the bottle?"

"It was almost empty anyway…"

"Halfway does not mean almost empty, especially with cologne. Why do you think I tended to turn away from you most of the time that we were walking over here?"

"I hadn't taken a shower in two days… I didn't want to stink…"

"The shower took care of the smell, at least on you… fortunately I managed to find some air freshener in the house, took care of the smell."

"This is a bad idea… I shouldn't have come…"

"What's the best way to apologize to Elizabeth for hurting her feelings than being here for her when she needs you? It's the best bet that you have at getting forgiveness from her, Uncle Ric. Don't make me call up Max and have him bring people to guard each exit and make sure that you stay in the same building with her. I'd hate to call them away from whatever they're doing, but they probably won't mind."

The door opened, and when it did, Ric saw her. But she hadn't noticed him yet. Instead of feeling like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, he felt just the opposite, he felt that he was being burdened with something that he didn't want to deal with. He tried to reach for the button that would take them back down before she could become any more the wiser, but as quick as he has was, his younger nephew's reflexes were quicker. Damian grabbed Ric's wrist, his face showing Ric that he wasn't going to give up. Finally lowering his head in defeat, Ric took the first step out of the elevator, Damian following closely behind.

"You're doing the right thing," Damian looked around at all the people. He didn't see Maxie yet, but he saw Dillon and Georgie. Maybe they knew where she was. "If you don't want to speak with her right now, I won't stop you, but you're going to have to be here with her and you will see her eventually. Quit stalling and get it over with."

"Maybe I shouldn't have called you… it would have just been easier to wallow in my self-pity."

"But then you wouldn't have gotten anywhere. No sense lamenting over the past, just learn from your mistakes and move on. Go." Why did it seem like he was the only one who could offer out any sort of advice… even to the people who should have been giving him the advice? He finally understood what it meant to have the soul of an 80 year old trapped in the body of a 21 year old.

She waited for Ric to walk away. She would never be comfortable around him. When he was safely far enough for her to feel comfortable, she tapped Damian on the shoulder, "Merry Christmas!"

Tilting his head to see who it was, he smiled when he saw Bobbie, "Merry Christmas, Bobbie."

Bobbie was quick to hug him. "It means a lot to me that you're here, since this is your first Christmas in Port Charles and this is hardly what most young adults would like to do on Christmas Eve."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Damian saw what Elizabeth had done with the place. It was indeed impressive, a testament to her artistic abilities. "Did someone bring by a bag, give it to you?"

"Yes," Bobbie remembered when someone did come to her earlier that day. "They said that it was for you. Do you know what it is?"

"Well, it's more from me, but I didn't know how long it would take for me to get here and I didn't want to be later if I was late in the first place… so I had one of dad's men bring the presents that I got for some people that I thought were going to be here."

"That would explain the shiny wrapping paper…"

"None of those were wrapped by me, I can promise you that. Maxie did it all. She's guilty if they were bad. And she's the one who you should praise if they were good."

"Placing the blame on your girlfriend isn't the best way to keep her around," Lucky came up from the side. He and Damian weren't close, they probably weren't even friends, but they didn't hate each other and they did get along. "I promise not to tell her anything, if one of those presents that you were talking about is for me."

"Actually, one of them is for you, Lucky," he couldn't forget Lucky, who was instrumental in the plot that got him his freedom. The fact that he was Carly's cousin and Bobbie's nephew didn't work against him, either.

"I'm glad you're both here… I could use two strong young men to help me move the couch out of the way so that we have more room to put the kids who can't sit on the floor while Alan reads to them."

"Hard labor?" Damian looked at Lucky, "I don't suppose we can claim workman's comp…"

"This isn't the police station, and you don't work…" Lucky didn't mind helping Bobbie, and he suspected that Damian didn't either. "Looks like we're stuck with the job."

"Let's just get it over with…" Damian didn't mind either, but why make it appear that he did? It was all in good humor.

It didn't take them very long. The couch wasn't heavy. Lucky went off to do his own thing once more while Damian found himself accidentally walking into someone as he scanned the crowd for his girlfriend. "Excuse me…"

Tracy steadied herself from the jolt that came with bumping into the younger man, and when she saw who it was she wasn't exactly thrilled, "Come to destroy another part of my life?"