"I believe our Maura has gone a bit silly with champagne," observed Janette.

"I'd say so," agreed Natalie. She couldn't help but recognize how perfectly they seemed to fit one another.

Maura melted into Nick as he pulled an arm tight around her waist. The music was smooth and bluesy and he moved them together as if they were joined as one.

"Mmm, Bats," she purred against his cheek, "if you play your cards right I might just come home with you tonight." He laughed softly. "And if you play your cards right, I might just let you."

"Smooth talker," and she kissed his neck for emphasis then settled on his shoulder again. His fingers moved against the velvet of her dress as he enjoyed her softness as well as the fabric.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" he whispered.

"Sounds like a song I heard once... but yeah you have."

"Well how about I tell you again," and she lifted her head up to look him in the eye, their noses almost touching.

"I love you," he told her with a smile, pursing his lips on the last word to kiss her.

"You do have great taste," she pronounced, adding slyly, "But lemme taste you again, just to be sure," and she fastened onto his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck and tangling fingers in his hair. She so loved him warm, as he was all the time now.

After enjoying her impulse for a moment or two, Nick gently pried his face away. "Is this a snack or a meal?"

"Up to you, Nicolas." She tipped her head ever so slightly to the side, pressed still closer, and was rewarded by the faintest pulse of gold deep in his eyes.

"You are a dangerous drunk," he mumbled. He stepped back and led her to a group of coworkers to socialize. Shop talk was inevitable, and with nothing to amuse her Maura wandered off to the bar. Nick tried to keep one eye on her as he chatted with fellow detectives. Finally Schanke leaned over and warned, "Better check on your party girl, partner, before you have to squeegee her off the floor."

She'd wheedled another glass of champagne out of Miklos, who was keeping a close eye on her and hadn't permitted her to leave for parts unknown. Lucky for him, Nick thought, that Miklos had the sort of commanding demeanor that usually guaranteed compliance from Maura without her realizing it.

"Ooooh, bay-beeee," she sang as she spun back and forth on the bar stool. Nick held onto her belt to keep her anchored. She was progressing from silly to genuinely swacked, but behaving herself nicely.

"Oh baby yourself. How much of that bubbly have you had?" She seldom drank so it didn't take much, and he'd counted five glassed so far.

"I dunno. Don't worry, it's a present from Janette."

"Remind me to thank her," he muttered as she pulled him closer, draping velvet arms around his neck.

"Don't be grumpy, it's Christmas," she pouted, then brightened. "Thank you for my tree. Will it fit in the corner by the stereo?" she mused vaguely, staring over his shoulder.

"Um, I'm afraid not," it hadn't occurred to him she might want to bring it home. Then again, it hadn't occurred to him she'd drain Janette's stock of Cristal, either. "How about we just leave it here and Janette and all of you can take care of it. You'll see it almost every night at work."

"I don't think she'll wanna keep it, she's not really into desca, decra," she struggled with the word, finally settling for "that kinda stuff."

Nick grinned at her drunken dignity. "Decorations?"

"Yeah them."

"Well I'll have a word with her. She'll be okay with it, I promise." He hoped. Maura was scowling.

"Oh sure, do do that voodoo that you do so well," and they were both amazed that she managed it. "No woman can resist your smooth talk, huh, living or dead."

"Sssh!" Nick glanced around to make sure no mortals had heard. "And don't be grumpy. It's Christmas." He defused her scowl with a kiss. This was a whole new facet to the woman he thought he'd come to know inside and out. Silly and girly and totally unlike the usual hard-edged smartassed semi-neurotic broad who'd been sharing his life. He wasn't sure he'd like her this way all the time, but for now it was kind of fun. "Maybe someone brought a camera, we can take a picture of it and hang it up at home."

Maura's silly smile had returned and she shook her head. "Uh-uh, that's okay. I'll keep it here," and she tapped the center of her chest, making the emerald briolette dance. "Right next to you."

"Now who's smooth-talking?"

"Mmm... me." He expected a giggle to follow, but instead she laughed low and rich, and he faltered at the sound of it. She pulled him closer, "You love when I do that, huh. I knew it all along, Detective Cool. Detective Cool and logic, and one laugh turns you into a real horndog." Now she did giggle. "Like that'll be the day." He frowned a little at that.

"I'm sorry, that was just mean," she touched his face, "so soft, you're so soft like velvet," and his smile returned. "I love you so much, Just Nick, it scares me sometimes. I never meant to, not really. I just meant to be friends."

"We are." He regarded her for a minute or two with amused affection. "I love you too, doucette. But it doesn't scare me a bit." She was beginning to look a little bleary. "Come on, Champagne Charlie, let's go home." At that moment Janette appeared from nowhere, holding Maura's wrap and purse.

"Do you suppose she has saved up every Christmas of her life for this night?" she asked in amusement.

"I'd say so."

"I'm getting too sleepy," Maura confessed, "I need some fresh air to wake up."

"And quite a lot of coffee, I think," Janette offered with a raised eyebrow. Nick's face lit with an inspired smile. "Okay, we'll get you all the fresh air you can stand." He fished his car keys out of his pocket and tossed them on the bar. "Have one of the guys drive the Caddy home," he whispered to the confused Janette, then helped Maura on with her wrap and motioned to a waiter to bring him his overcoat. When it arrived he wrapped his woolen scarf around Maura's neck and put his fur-lined leather gloves on her. He never really needed them anyway.

"Ooh, cross-dressing," Maura drawled, "kinky."

"Cold out," he explained and leaned over to kiss Janette. "Thanks for the party. I promised Maura you'd agree to keep the tree here for as long as it lasts." Janette's protest was muffled by another kiss. "I knew you'd say yes. See you soon," and he brought Maura to her feet and guided her through their various goodnights.

"'night Schankes," Maura bubbled to Nick's partner and his wife. "You knew all along this was a good idea, didn't you?"

"When you're right, you're right," Schanke confirmed. "Merry Christmas, guys." Myra gave Nick and Maura both a kiss and hug, but the stunner was Maura grabbing Schanke by a lapel and smooching his cheek loudly. "You're a good guy, Schank. Take it from one who knows from assholes." Nick roared with laughter.

"Uh thanks, I guess," Schanke was, as usual, a little uncertain how he should reply.

"Don't worry, Schank, just the Cristal version of a compliment," Nick assured him with a wink as he steered Maura out the side door.

"What'd I say?" Nick tightened his grip on her as he laughed again.

"Nothing, Sweet, we're all just a little crazy tonight." He led her to a darkened corner of the employees' parking lot.

"Where are we going? We parked on the street." The cold air had sharpened her up a little. He looked around furtively to check if anyone could see. Nobody.

"Uh, what exactly are you gonna do?" Maura asked a little uneasily.

"How's your stomach?"

"My what?"

"I mean, you had a lot to drink. How are you feeling?"

"You brought me out back to puke?"

He caught her face between his hands. "Focus, Maura." They had to move fast before anyone else came by.

"Fine, I'm fine. Just a little, you know," she swayed against his restraining arms, "tanked?" She made a "wheee" noise as she leaned her head back. Nick brought her upright and pulled her arms around his neck.

"You wanna make out or something?" She looked around and wrinkled her nose in distaste, "Kinda gross out here."

"Shut up," he told her abruptly. "Will you just shut up." That worked. She stared at him, a pout gathering in her lower lip. "Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Just do it, okay?"

"Not until you tell me why."

He rolled his eyes in frustration. "Okay, have it your way," and he scooped her up in his arms, and the earth fell away.

Maura felt a whoosh as they left the ground. She would have screamed, but only managed a tiny squeak before clutching Nick's neck in a death grip. Suddenly she was stone cold sober.

"Holy shit! You could warn a person!"

"Then it wouldn't be a surprise." He grinned at her, thoroughly pleased with himself. "Merry Christmas, Maura."

Once she caught her breath, she looked out at the night sky that surrounded them. It was a fine, clear night and they seemed to be floating into the stars, stars that in turn blended with the sparkling Toronto skyline. The full moon made the snow below them glow blue-white. "Omigod, oh Nick, this is awesome!"

"Wait'll I show you something else," and he took them to the CN Tower, setting them down on the long-closed observation deck well away from the spotlights where they wouldn't be seen. Maura knew her eyes were bugging out as she took in the city below them.

"And you don't have to dust it," he teased. She turned to him as he put his arms around her.

"I so love you to bits, Maura Logue." His voice was quiet and warm, the way he spoke to her when they were alone at home. The city sounds drifted up from the street.

"It sounds like music," she murmured. A little overcome, she pressed her face into his shoulder.

"Hey, hey, what's this?" He lifted her chin so she had to look at him. Her eyes were bright, but not with tears.

"I forgot to thank Janette. That's terrible."

He was confused. "Janette?"

"Yeah. Remember, she gave me a job when nobody else would. She gave me a place to start a life, and she introduced you to me. This is all because of her." She suppressed a laugh. "Wouldn't it kill her to know that."

Nick's amused expression was contagious, and they both laughed out loud at the unspoken joke.

"C'mon, I'll fly you home the scenic route. Unless of course you have something to top this," he swept his hand around them, more than a little proudly.

"I don't think so... you guys are such grandstanders."

When they arrived home Maura was a bit chilled, so Nick got the fire turned up in the gas fireplace and started to bundle her up in a blanket.

"Hey, what is it with this babying stuff?" she protested, pushing him away. "Unless you're starting to believe LaCroix, that you've got a pet to take care of."

"Not until I get you de-clawed, I don't." Nick dropped the blanket and went to the kitchen to get a bottle.

"I'll be right back, I wanna get out of my party clothes." She bounced up the stairs and stopped short when she saw what was laid out on the bed. When the hell could he have done that? Arranged artfully across the quilt was a gorgeous kimono crafted of silks, velvets, and furs. It obviously came from the same source as those owned by himself and Janette. The lining was a ripple-cut silk velvet, like the stuffed animals Maura always was compelled to clutch and pet whenever she saw them in a shop. The colors ranged from burgundy to mahogany browns and the deepest emeralds, guaranteed to set off her hair and eyes and complexion. With barely a pause, she tore carelessly out of her clothes and wrapped herself up in it. Oh my god, she nearly swooned, it was so soft and warm, reaching to her feet and the tips of her fingers. It was bound by a wide, heavy sash made from silk and velvet, ending in long soft fringes. She was beginning to feel like this Christmas was going to go on forever.

She managed to make it down the stairs in fairly regal fashion, trying hard not to trip on the overlong hem. Nick's face was absolutely glowing – or was it the firelight – when she swept to a stop in front of where he was pretending to read.

"You forgot the slippers," she deadpanned, but he reached behind him with a flourish and pulled out a pair of purple plush bunny slippers.

"To complete the ensemble," he explained as she cracked up.

"Bunny slippers!" she howled, "You dress me up like an empress, and give me bunny slippers?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, I think they work..." She dove into his arms where he sat on the floor propped against the sofa.

"You're starting to scare me. Is this gonna be, like, a potlatch or something? Like I can't possibly top you, so into the fire I go?"

He considered this. "There's a thought... nah. I just figured you'd gone your whole life without Christmas, it's time to catch up."

She settled back against him, feeling absolutely clichéd as they watched the flames. "I may not need another Christmas as long as I live."

"Oh, don't say that, you'll spoil my fun."

Maura lay back with her head in the hollow of Nick's shoulder, his arm wrapped around, fingers idly playing on her skin at the edge of the loose collar of the kimono. Skin to velvet, velvet to skin, until it was difficult for him to tell one from another. She took his hand, finally, and kissed the palm, and the inside of his wrist where she would drink if she were going to join him. She turned her face up to his and looked at him a long moment before reaching up to run her hand behind his head. As she deepened the kiss and turned to face him, wound tighter to him, the old protective reflex stirred. She felt his hesitation, less than a beat of the one heart between them, and whispered against his cheek, "No. You can't hurt me, because I'm not afraid. You can't hurt me because you haven't betrayed me. I love you, and you can't hurt me," her voice was at once persuasive and childishly stubborn. She stopped his forceless protest with more kisses, took the hands that tried to pull away and filled them with kisses, I love you Nick, I love you, I'm not afraid of you, don't be afraid of me. And for the first time in his long divided life, before and after 800 years, he breathed, "Yes." and, because she was the one deciding, his fears for her were calmed. No lies, no tricks or betrayal, no false obedience, just her choosing him, as he was, not in spite but because, persuading him, she covered him in kisses, every touch a kiss and every kiss touching the heart he swore he didn't have, until now. Until now.

Maura moved to Nick's lap, distracting him with kisses, eyes and hair and chin and neck, kisses where each button was pulled apart, kisses on his hands and wrists and where the pale hard muscled shoulders came loose from the eternal shelter of his clothes, kisses trailing on his chest, she bathed him in them and felt him giving himself up, no longer the hunter, the taker, now the needed, wanted, loved. She soothed the feral passions away as they came, calmed with kisses to still the growl in his throat, to fade the gold from his eyes, gentle the steel from his grip. There would be no bruises this time, no reproach. And when his mouth opened between the kisses he covered her with in return, she touched light fingers to fang tips and said "No, not this time, this time you love me in my world, I've loved you in yours, it's my turn now," and the fangs receded and growls turned to deep murmurs as she pressed him to his back on the thick rug, and covered him warm, not burning uncontrolled flames, but warm and embracing like the sunshine he'd forsaken so long ago and missed so painfully. Something shifted inside him, and for now, right now, he wasn't a despised creature or a mistaken creation, but just a man, wanting to touch and hold and breathe and feel warmth, softness, Sweet, he whispered, Sweet. Please I want to know, I want to remember what I've never had, just this once. And somewhere in the waves of kisses now there was just skin, skin and her kimono covering them as she stroked the parts of him that had forgotten what tenderness was, the places he feared the most because they had always turned his passion to rage. "You can't hurt me," she promised into his mouth and he returned against her skin, "Never," and when she settled on him the completeness of the connection, the keenness of the ache in him, were almost too much and he turned his head and shut his eyes so he wouldn't have to see hers ask him why he'd waited so long. Then he turned sharply to look up at her, tightened his embrace in a rush of sensation, and the eyes looking into hers were clear blue, the voice quiet and gentle, the words so human. "Ma doucette," and he rolled her to her side, and locked them together, but this time she led the dance whose steps he'd forgotten, if he'd ever known them at all.

He fit her so perfectly, held her so completely, kissed and clung and urged and moaned her name, and the surges that shot through her matched the lights in her head. Something magic was in him, the same magic as when he took her in his own way, different now because he was accepting her, finally, in hers. Pleasure beyond pleasure, it wasn't just the rarity of his biology but their connection itself, so complete even before this. She thought she'd been in control of this, but she was so wrong, as he rolled her beneath him and mastered their rhythm, no fear, no violence, the doubts that had kept him apart abandoned him now. Gasps and whimpers escaped her, words dissolved into purer sounds until finally she was reduced to holding on for dear life as she had earlier when he flew them over the city, only now he flew them somewhere entirely different. "Sweet, sweet, ma doucette," he repeated like a mantra, his face resting against hers, soft whiskers stroking her cheek with every movement, his hands moving and exploring and petting her in contrast to her own tight grip round his back.

The ache in him grew, its keenness grew, and at the same time he reached for his climax he dreaded its finality. He wanted it to last forever, this complete joining apart from blood that somehow brought him the same full knowledge of her, and himself as well. He cried out as the fire blossomed and exploded in him, heard her calling his name as if from a great distance, and he couldn't seem to stop moving and caressing, trying so hard to keep it from ending, but the ache disappeared in that final explosion even as the warmth remained. And softness, and the sound of a single heartbeat coming back to earth. Somewhere in his sensible mind he took care to move so he wouldn't press her too hard, then let his strength leave him entirely, his face resting against Maura's neck, mouth pressed to the place he was always drawn to, where he felt her life beat with a pulse that now left him strangely untempted.

"See, you can't hurt me," she barely whispered, not having regained her breath. He felt her hand moving in his hair, stroking as if to comfort him. When he lifted his head from her she could see the tears, pink trails on his face, in the firelight. "Oh, don't," she told him, "don't," and hugged him tight against her. "Ssh, it's all right, really, you were just trying to keep me safe." She tried to think of more wise words, but he faced her again with the smile that said all things, and nuzzled her cheek before rolling onto his back and wrapping her kimono around them both. He hugged her so tight she could barely breathe, rubbed her back over and over, loving the feel of her as her breath and heartbeat slowed to normal.

"That was very reckless of you. How could you possibly know ?" He felt her smile against his skin.

"I know you."

"And I don't."

"Nope, not very often. You know history, you know habit, but you haven't really gotten to know you even after all those centuries and lives." They shifted so she was on her back as he leaned above her on an elbow.

"You've always been 'you'," he told her, "I've been so many people, had so many lives, all I could ever be sure of is what I used to be before, and what..." he didn't want to say the name, not now, "what he made me became the only constant."

She traced a finger along his lower lip and he caught it briefly in his teeth before kissing it. "I'm no philosopher-shrink, okay?" she told him, "I love who you are, I don't care how you got that way." He dropped his head to her shoulder with a laugh.

"So you're the cowboy and I'm Marilyn Monroe. Interesting."

"Not so different," she was embarrassed by being caught out in a direct steal from the movies. "You think you're not good enough, and I know you are."

"I'll try to take your word for it." She saw such sadness under the gentle smile, so familiar, she couldn't keep quiet about it any longer.

"I can't not ask you anymore, Nick, why, why is it every sweet and caring thing you do makes you so sad? Even this, sharing more than just my blood, you still seem hurt or frightened by it."

Nick took her hand and pressed his lips into the palm before going on. "For a vampire, there is no 'sharing', there is only taking. Need, loneliness, hunger, and thirst are all one and the only satisfaction of them is taking, every drop and essence of a victim or even a lover. When a mortal is the object the only real fulfillment results in death, which leaves you empty again and hunting for the next fulfillment. I've had mortal women before, I've made love to them and drunk from them without killing them at the time but for me it was really just an extended bout of foreplay. In the end, the kill was all. There wasn't ever a 'little death' for me without true death for the other." When he'd finished she was stroking his beard, his face, the lines around his eyes, over and over, trying to soothe the bad memories away. She certainly understood by now, he hadn't needed to draw her a map, that for any vampire the only true sexual satisfaction came from sex and blood, simultaneously, completely distinct from merely feeding. Feeding was survival, hunting was the game that made it more pleasurable and powerful, but true carnal passion for physical connection could only be satisfied by human and vampire lovemaking combined. Though Nick had learned he could engage in the latter without the former, the opposite had seemed impossible.

When Nick's physical need became too great to ignore, Maura knew he went to Janette. Only a vampire could share a vampire's lust and survive. She knew it wasn't only out of concern for her safety, but to indulge his physical passion completely that he sought out his lifelong lover. She always knew when it happened, he'd have been strained and distant, perhaps he'd have recently drunk from her more frequently than usual. What mortals would laugh at as "horniness" went to the bone in Nick's kind, taking hold deeper and more fiercely until there was no turning away from it. And for the past hundred years, since forswearing killing, Nick had found his connection with Janette. Though she wished she could give Nick everything he needed, Maura was glad that Janette was there. He'd come back calmer, relaxed and less on edge when Maura was close to him, but his improved temper would be laced with guilt. It bothered him that Maura didn't have a similar source of solace, even though she'd tried to explain to him it was different for her, for mortals. "It's not that I'm being noble or 'faithful', you have to believe me I was never the martyr type. I just don't want anyone else. It's different, Nick, we're different that way, sex for me is part of the big picture. Please, don't let it bother you so much. I don't have trouble with it, so don't you either." It was a futile debate, of course.

After more silent flame-staring they made their way to bed. As the sun rose, with the harmless sliver of light prying its way through the shade to dance in the antique mirror, Nick lay watching Maura sleep. She wasn't nearly as beautiful as most of the women he'd known, wasn't as graceful or elegant, didn't possess the fragile charm that had often attracted him. She met him equally, challenged his long-held assumptions about himself and the world and occasionally (though not always) proved them wrong. It wasn't that she was so wise or brilliant, but that she found certain assumptions annoying and limiting. She had little patience with "bullshit" and anything Maura saw as foolish or ill-informed she regarded as "bullshit". She could be wrong as often as right, but maddeningly persistent in both cases. When she was right, and pried him from his illusions, the results were formidable.