Now let's cite some stuff here.

First off, I don't know who owns the 'Winter Wonderland' lyrics, but I know I don't. Much would be obliged if someone could tell me the author of them.

Harry Potter and it's chracters are owned by Warner Brothers and J.K Rollowing.

The Chicken Soup Series is owned by the Soul Enterprises, Inc.

I don't own the SVU characters. Wolf does.

All I own is Amy Munch and all the other characters I create.

Enjoy!


ON THE WAY TO THE SVU SQUAD ROOM

Wednesday, December 23rd, 2005

"Thanks for the ride, Amy," said Fin as he tried to warm his hands from the heater.

Fin's car broke down when he tried to start it that morning. He had it towed to the mechanic and could not believe that they would not get it fixed until after Christmas.

"I told Cragen your situation and he's given me some leniency because I have to drive to Brooklyn now to pick you up. Shame they couldn't get your car fixed before Christmas," said Amy.

Munch grunted from the back seat. "You're Jewish. Jews don't celebrate Christmas."

"Great, traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge," she said and slowed her car down, "Since you're going to be a pain in the ass, old man, then listen up carefully. You can too, if you want Fin."

"This is going to be good," said Fin.

"My father, your brother Uncle John, is Jewish. My mom is Hispanic. When I was five, they debated whether to open my presents on Hanukkah or Three Kings Day. They couldn't come to an agreement, so they settle on Christmas, on the agreement that they both taught me their holidays and told me to observe them."

"And?" asked Munch.

"I would only get presents on Christmas Day."

"So, your family let you open your presents on Christmas Day, but you observed not only Christmas Day, but Hanukkah and Three Kings Day. You just wouldn't get presents on those days," said Fin.

"Exactly," said Amy.

"I hate Christmas," muttered Munch.

"You hate everything about December, from snow to gingerbread cookies," said Fin, "And you never celebrate Hanukkah at the office."

"So?"

"So? Some people celebrate their holiday at the office with some…I don't know…uh…what's the word for I'm looking here…umm…item!"

"So you want me to bring in a menorah into the office and light a candle for eight days?"

"John, I'm saying you never celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah, which by the way, is your native holiday."

"Look Fin, if I want your advice to celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah, then I'll ask for it."

"Boys! Come on now, it's Chris…I mean, the holidays! Let's be cheerful!" said Amy joyfully.

"Kinda hard when he's around," muttered Fin, "And what's with the Glad trash bag?"

Fin indicated to her Amy's huge, black purse.

"You never carried one of those…things."

"I've had it for quite sometime since Mr. Nine Lives here and his doctor gave him a boat load of medication for his wounds. You'd be surprised how much he has take and how much he needs to take with food and a non-alcoholic drink," said Amy.

She emphasized non-alcoholic. Fin assumed Munch had tried to take his medication with something he was not supposed to.

"I'm surprised you don't have a lock of some sort on it. You do know your uncle was a hippie back in the day," said Fin.

Munch kicked Fin's seat.

"Hey! Not fair! You can't do that!" cried Fin.

Amy sighed. "It's going to be a long drive."


At the station house, everyone got out of the car. Since they arrived late, all the parking spots were taken in the garage, so Amy had to park outside. Munch got out of the car and headed to the precinct. And that's when Amy saw the perfect opportunity.

He had his back toward her. Amy got out of the car, leaving her front door open to hide her from his view. She gathered some snow from the ground and formed it into a ball. She shut her door and waited until Munch had his hand on the door.

"This is for making my car ride like hell," she thought and flung the snow ball at her uncle.

POP! POP!

Munch stopped and stood still for a moment. Amy looked at Fin who had his second snow ball ready to go.

"You idiot!" they both mouthed to each other.

They glanced from each other to Munch, who was walking inside. They hurried up the steps to apologize to him, but when they grabbed the door, it was locked.

Amy shook on it. "Hey! Open this door! It's freezing out here!"

"Hey!" Fin cried, "Someone open this door, right now!"

Munch kept walking down the hallway and nodded to the desk sergeant.

"You're a mean old man, Munch," said the desk sergeant.

"I know," said Munch and he winked as he stepped into the elevator.

Outside, Fin and Amy were debating.

"We're going to have to run around the whole block just to get into the back way!" exclaimed Fin.

"It's too cold for that, Fin," cried Amy.

"Do you have a better suggestion?" asked Fin.

Inside the squad room, Munch entered it humming. Benson and Stabler looked at him.

"Is that Munch…" began Stabler.

"Humming?" finished Benson.

They watched him hang up his trench coat, pausing to touch the garland, and then he sat down at his desk, playing with his hula doll.

"La ta te da da dum…" he kept whispering.

Benson and Stabler kept looking at him from time to time until finally they could not stand it any more.

"What's the occasion?" asked Benson.

"What occasion?" asked Munch.

"You're humming," said Stabler.

Just then, Fin and Amy walked into the squad room looking very cold.

"That's the occasion," said Munch as he pointed to them hanging up there coats.

"What did he do?" asked Benson to the pair.

"We both threw a snow ball at him because he made our lives miserable from Brooklyn to Manhattan," grumbled Fin.

"What can I say?" asked Munch with a smirk.

"Shut it, old man or you'll be getting more than snow balls when you're outside," growled Amy.

"So you guys finally show up," said Cragen, "Finally, we get to decorate the tree."

"Count me out of it," said Munch, "I hate…"

"We know, John. You hate Christmas," said everyone.

"And Hanukkah," added Amy.

"Arrrgh, bah humbug!" said an exasperated Munch and he folded his arms.

Fin and Amy looked around the squad room. Everyone had stockings on the side of their desks, including Munch and Amy. Multicolored lights were wrapped around the stair case and traced around the squad room. Garland was draped around the entrance of the squad room with a red bow in the middle. Globe ornaments hanged from their desk lamps and Cragen even had a stocking on the two interrogation rooms and his office door. He even wrapped his desk in golden colored lights. In the corner, near the lockers, stood the Christmas tree without lights or ornaments, but it had the tree skirt. The boxes of ornaments and lights lay near the tree, waiting to be put up.

"I had all this Christmas stuff gathering dust in my attic at my house. Since I practically live here at the squad room, I brought them here so everyone could enjoy them," said Cragen as he took a box and opened it.

"I'm doing lights!" said Stabler and he hopped up from his chair and grabbed the box of lights.

"You did lights last year El! My turn!" said Fin.

"It's just lights, guys," said Benson rolling her eyes.

"But you put the star on top of the tree," said Stabler.

"No, I did," said Munch.

"You?" asked Amy skeptically, "Put the star up? How much did they pay you to do that?"

"I just did it because I wanted to," he said looking away.

"For God's sake old man, if you want to participate, then come on! I'll still observe Hanukkah with you!"

Munch thought it over for a while, then sighed.

"What about music? We need music," he said.

Amy set down the box of ornaments she had and went to her computer.

"How's Winter Wonderland everyone?" she asked.

"Fine with us," replied everyone.

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening
In the lane, snow is glistening
A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight
Walking in a winter wonderland

Gone away is the bluebird
Here to stay is a new bird
He sings a love song, as we go along
Walking in a winter wonderland

In the meadow we can build a snowman
And pretend that he is parson brown
He'll say, are you married, we'll say, no man
But you can do the job while you're in town

Later on we'll conspire
As we dream by the fire
To face unafraid the plans that we made
Walking in a winter wonderland

The song has repeated twice and by the time they had finished, the squad room look completed with all the decorations. They sat in their chairs, looking at it.

"I still hate Christmas," said Munch.

Everyone rolled their eyes and shook their heads.

"Whatever John," said Benson.

They kept looking at it until the mail arrived and everyone went to go see what they got. They all received one invitation that looked the same.

"What's this?" asked Stabler waving the card in the air, "I usually get more than this."

"'You've been invited to a first annual gathering hosted by the NYPD on Christmas day at city hall. Starting at seven o' clock in the evening, you must bring a date and wear the formal attire as dictated below:'

'For men: A black and white tuxedo.'

'For women: A ball gown dress.'

'Please R.V.S.P to the phone number or address below'…what! A DANCE!" cried Amy, "I thought these things only existed in high schools!"

"And that's not all it says," said Benson, "There's going to be waltzing and it's advised that everyone knows how to waltz!"

"Great, and we have to bring someone," growled Munch.

"That's easy for you! You're still dating that reporter," said Fin.

"And I have no boyfriend," said Benson.

"This sounds interesting. Perhaps we should go," said Cragen, "What are you guys doing Christmas Day?"

"Nothing," everyone replied.

"Well then, that settles it. We're going to this," he said.

"Umm…Captain, usually Munch is the bearer of bad news, but I'm going to be the bearer bad news. First off, some us don't have dates. Two, some us don't have tuxes and elegant ball gowns. And three, we don't have the money to go shopping for a nice outfit!" yelled Benson.

"So?" asked Cragen, "Ever heard of a Christmas bonus?"

"There goes my hope of owning a new XBOX 360," sighed Fin.

Cragen rolled his eyes.

"Fine then, I can easily solve some of these matters. Benson, Stabler, you two can be each others' dancing partners. Fin, Amy you two can be partners, and Munch, you're dating that reporter, so you got that solved."

Munch stared at him. "What about you?" he asked.

"I can always ask Casey out. She still owes me a dinner, so this could count," said Cragen.

Everyone looked at him with confusing looks.

"Um, Captain, what about the people who have two left feet and don't know how to waltz or dance in particular?" asked Fin.

"I took dance lessons in high school. I can teach you guys how to waltz," said Cragen.

Everyone looked at him with more confusing looks.

"What? Why are you staring at me like that!"

"You know what? Why don't all of us celebrate Christmas here? In the squad room?" asked Stabler.

Cragen thought it over. "Okay, we'll do that then. No one would running late and we can all arrive at city hall on time. But after we open presents, the girls have to go upstairs and cannot come down until we are ready to leave."

"WHAT?" everyone asked.

"Well, it'll be more interesting," said Cragen shrugging, "I mean, us men lie in wait to see what our dates look like…"

"Fine then. Can we at least go out and find something for us today?" asked Amy.

Cragen gave her a sly smile.


Corner of Fifth Avenue and Madison Avenue

Mid Town

Manhattan

Munch, Fin, and Amy walked down the sidewalk in the cold. They were looking at windows of the stores when Munch held up his hand.

"Need a break?" asked Fin.

Munch nodded and leaned against the wall. A spasm of pain passed through his stomach. He closed his eyes for a minute and held his side. Amy began to grow concerned.

"Are you okay? You wanna drive instead of walk?" she asked.

Munch opened his eyes and shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I'll be okay."

Since Munch had been shot, he had been in and out of physical therapy. The bullet he took to his shoulder and stomach had messed up his muscles and now he was trying to train them back to their old selves. He had improved a lot in the past month, but every now and then, a spasm pain would pass either through his shoulder or stomach area and let him know that his muscles were not back to their full capacity yet.

"You sure?" asked Fin.

"Will you stop worrying about me!" exclaimed Munch, "If you haven't forgotten, we're looking for something to wear to this stupid ball Cragen told us to go to!"

He got back on his feet and began to walk a little faster. Fin and Amy looked at each other before running to catch up with him.

"Slow down, will you?" said Amy raising her voice, "I don't want to hurt yourself."

"I'm not going to hurt myself," grumbled Munch.

Fin could not believe what he was hearing from Munch. Usually Munch acted like an ass around the holidays, but usually he could control it. But for some reason this holiday season, it seemed all those years of repressing of what he had been really wanting to say about the holidays was now coming out. Or could it be the medication?

Another spasm of pain on the same side. This time, Munch gave into it and sat down at a nearby bench. Amy ran to him, her voice nearly reaching the point of hysterical.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" she asked upsettingly.

Munch tried to say fine, but this spasm of pain left him breathless. He shook his head no.

"Don't be faking man," said Fin warily, "Don't make your niece look so gullible just because you want a few pills."

Munch glared at Fin. Amy set her purse down and began to dig through it.

"He's not faking this one. The doctor told him to take it easy. Doing that fast pace walk, I knew something like this would happen."

She pulled out one of the many little orange bottles in her purse, along with a bottle of water and an apple.

"Eat this before you take it," she said.

"It's twenty degrees outside! You expect him to eat that! It could be frozen!" asked Fin.

But Munch answered Fin's question. He took the apple and began to eat it. Fin took the time to steal a glance at Amy's open purse where he saw seven bottles, all of them nearly filled to the top with pills and the lids had different colors to distinguish them from one another.

"What the hell is he taking?" asked Fin bewildered.

"A few muscle relaxants, a couple of pain killers that won't make him sleepy, but they'll make him happy for a few hours, and one that helps with the digestive track, which reminds me…"

Amy trailed off as she pulled out another bottle and took out another pill.

"Why does he need that?"

"Because Fin, one of the bullets managed to hit a certain area where food moves from the stomach to the intestines. He can digest solid food, but it has to be little pieces when he chews it and whatever doesn't dissolve in that stomach, this pill comes in and helps out with the process."

"Seems complicated."

Munch let out a laugh.

"You think? She colored the lids so she could distinguish from one another," he said.

Amy cheeks were already red from the cold, but Fin could tell she was blushing as they turned to a darker red.

"Hell, I would get confused too, old man. I would find some organization process so I could tell the difference between them. So don't go making fun of her just because she cares about you and is actually taking the time to see what she can give you. Knowing you, you wouldn't had cared about what to take!" he said.

"Caring! You think she cares? It's beyond that now. It's like I have a mom all over again. She comes with me to the doctor appointments, to physical therapy, makes me do my required exercise at night, and makes sure I eat and drink the stuff I'm suppose to. She's become the worrier of the century and if she can't make it to the doctor or physical therapy appointments, Emily comes with me."

"But you don't mind if Emily comes now, do you?" said Fin angrily.

Munch turned even a darker red than Amy.

"That's not the point," Munch said darkly.

"Oh, it is the point alright old man. You care if a family member goes with you because you know when you go home, she's going to be nagging at you until you do something from your physical therapy or something the doc said. But if it's with your precious girlfriend, you know she won't force you because she likes you, hell she might even love you for that matter!"

"What the f--k do you know about me and Emily! Nothing is going on between us to make it seem like we're serious. We just go out and have dinner or drinks, nothing special. You keep her out this Odafin!"

"Oh, so now the Munchkin Senior is feeling embarrassed about his girlfriend or ashamed? Or maybe it's because your shy since you can't get it up anymore with out the help of a…"

"ENOUGH!"

Amy was shaking so violently, neither of them had notice. Whatever anger they felt now turned to shame.

"I'm going back to the car," she said, "When you decided you have grown up and bought what you guys needed for this dance, then join me and we'll go back to the house."

"Amy, what about you?" asked Fin.

"I'm going to call Cragen and tell him I'm leaving early as soon as I drop you off. I have no paperwork to do, so there's no point staying the whole day at work with assholes like you guys. Fin, I appreciate you standing up for me, but it went beyond the subject here. This argument is between me and my uncle. I understand you were there with him when he got shot, but I'm the one who's been going to every doctor and physical therapy appointment with him and who gives him the medication when it's time," she said.

"But…"

"Screw this stupid dance. I'm not going," she said and stormed off back to the car.

Munch and Fin both looked at her walking back to the car.

"Nice going," they both said turning to each other.

Then they both fell silent. Neither one wanted to start a conversation out of the fear that they would fall into an argument again. But Fin hated seeing Munch and Amy mad at each other and he also hated being in the middle.

"Look John, I know you don't like the holidays. And to take in the recent events from this past year, it's all the more for you to hate it. But don't you have at least a shred of compassion to just for once celebrate it and be happy around Amy?"

"Question: Are you my rabbi or are you my conscious?" Munch said.

"I'm neither! Will you stop acting like an idiot and approach this with some seriousness! This is your niece, you know, the long lost one you forgot to keep in contact after you put in the orphanage? Come on man!"

"You're my conscious," muttered Munch.

"Will you just listen to me for a sec?"

"When I feel like it."

"Fine then, old man. Do whatever the hell you want. Just finish your apple, take your medication and let's go get what we need for this dance."

Munch silently finished his apple and took his medication. His mood still not had improved.


Meanwhile, Benson and Stabler were having a much better time together and they had already bought their outfits. Now they were just walking around, looking at the shops as they went and hoping to get a glance of the others in their outfits.

"I finished all my Christmas shopping for the kids yesterday. I gave Kathy a call to see what they liked for Christmas a few days ago and I couldn't believe what they wanted at the top of their list," said Stabler.

"What?" asked Benson, "Was it expensive stuff?"

"No, it was books."

"Books?"

"Yeah, books. The twins wanted the latest Harry Potter book and Kathleen wanted something from that Chicken Soup series. I couldn't believe it."

"So, did you buy them?"

"Buy them! Of course I did, Liv! Any parent would have to be crazy to pass up that opportunity."

"Maybe they could be kissing up for something cool, like a new video game system," said Benson.

"Why did you go and ruin a father's happy moment that his kids want to read? If they do want that, then they would have to work for it and get it themselves. They got that computer and it's bad enough that Maureen got them that Star Wars Podracing game. I had to buy an extra USB port thingy and controllers so they could all play. It was like they forgot the peaceful way of sharing. It was not cheap, I'll tell you," said Stabler.

"What's actually cheap in this world, El? Amy last Friday kept bitching to me that my cup of coffee now jumped to over four dollars a cup from $3.84 plus tax."

"What do they put in it? Pure imported coffee beans and sugar cane?" snickered Stabler.

"She asked me the same thing only with more adjectives," Benson said, shrugging, "I honestly didn't know. I had purchase my cup of coffee since Fin joined."

"Fin never complains though. He keeps to himself."

"Right and Munch has never said a conspiracy in his life El. He too has complained before."

"Just never about the 3.84 dollar cup of coffee, plus tax."

Benson punched him playfully on the shoulder.


Munch's Apt.

Amy walked in her uncle's apartment and set her keys down on the kitchen counter. She felt tired, but at the same time, agitated.

Cragen asked why she didn't want to come to work. She pretty much gave him a beat-around-the-bush excuse that Munch and Fin had once again got into an argument, but this time they really pist her off. Cragen sighed and told her they would get over it. She hung up on him.

"Get over it? Right! The fight wasn't over the Bush Administration this time," she muttered.

She sat down on the couch. She had not been to the library since in months, so she had not a single piece of reading material to take her mind off things. Well almost nothing.

She went into her room and changed into her gym outfit and put on her boxing gloves. From the closet, she took out her punching bag on a stand. And then she began to box.

One, two, three, four, five, rest, one, two, three, four, five, rest…

"Why is it that I always have to be on the receiving end of everything?" she thought, "Teasing, ridicule, criticism, arguments, it never ends and it gets old! I thought I prove myself to them, to him, but it seems I haven't done enough. What more can I do on the job?"

One, two, three, four, five, rest, one, two, three, four, five, rest…

"This ordeal of him evading the subject of Emily, what's his problem? Doesn't he love her? Why does he keep buying her the same batch of Lily of the Valleys or take her to a movie? Why does he insist on talking Russian around her or her insisting he talk some Yiddish and he does it for her? He loves her, that much I know is certain. Why won't he admit it?"

One, two, three, four, five, rest, one, two, three, four, five, rest…

"Why can't he show that inner self I see here all the time? Uncle John is never this cynical when I'm around. He's nice and caring. Did that shooting change him? I know it changed his views on the government, but he couldn't have change, could he? I know he's nice deep down inside, I can feel it!"

WHAM!

Her last punch came with such force, she had pushed her bag back into the wall.

"Goddamn it!"

She threw her gloves on the ground and sat on her bed. Amy sighed and went under her bed. She pulled out a very thick, leather-bound book.

Her photo album.

She began flipping it through it. Memories, freeze-framed by a Polaroid or Canon camera, had captured her first spaghetti dinner while she was a baby, riding the carousel at the local fair, Disney world…


Munch walked inside his apartment. He sighed and put his hat and trench coat on the coat rack.

He sat down on his lazy boy. The rest of his work day, as Fin had put it succinctly while riding home with him, sucked.

Munch had found out two things that contributed to this. One was he was not a good waltzer. He was a good swinger, yes, but not a good waltzer. The second thing was he had been more of an ass than anytime in his life, well perhaps the second time.

"No!" whispered Munch, "I've got to put that behind me! That's not the…"

But it was. Munch hated the holidays because they reminded him of one event that had happen when he was young.

"There's no point acting like this, and above all people, to her," Munch sighed.

He notice Amy's bedroom door was shut, an obvious sign she showed no interest in talking to her uncle. Munch ignored it and knocked on her door anyway.

Amy jerked her head from the book at the sound of knocking coming from her door. Munch's head peeked in.

"Hi," he said sheepishly.

"Bye," said Amy harshly, "Please leave a message after the designated beep after I return from my trip down nostalgia lane."

"Where's the beep?" asked Munch.

"Go to hell and leave me alone you…"

"You jack ass old man from the netherworld who does not have his priorities straight and is overly medicated."

Amy scowled.

"What do you want?"

"To talk."

"Yes, we did that. Now I'm done. Goodnight!"

And Amy rolled over on her bed and gave him her back.

"Amy," sighed Munch and went inside.

"I thought I indirectly told you to get out. Now here it is directly…get out," she mumbled.

"I came to apologize," he said sitting on the bed.

Amy sat up and looked at him.

"I vented and I got carried away. Don't know what happen."

"I know the answer. It's the holidays. You hate them," she said and rolled back over on her bed.

"No, that answer is stupid. I just…well…nowthatyourehereIhavetheflashbacksreoccurringmorethanever."

"What flashbacks?" asked Amy, turning her head.

"Amy, my dad, he…"

Amy sat up again.

"What did he do that's making you act like the way you are?"

"He didn't do anything. I always thought it was my fault though. He committed suicide around Christmas. I'm always in a bad mood around this time of year, but now that you're here, I just remember it more often than I want to," said Munch, finally.

Amy said nothing.

"I come home with Isaac and Bernie from school. We had a fight the night before…I had been my usual wise-ass self…and I didn't say a word to him we left for the bus that morning. I said I hated his guts that horrible night he punished me. I come home that day and I see his badge on the counter. He was a cop, you know. I thought it was odd, he didn't come home until late during the weekdays. My mom was with a friend shopping. I went to go to the bath room and…"

Munch sniffed and held back his sob.

"He shot himself. One bullet, through the head, clean and simple. I called his squad and his partner and plus another guy he knew, took the call. All his partner had to do was run the shower to wash away the blood, showing the bullet."

"He acted so cheerful around us. Abnormally cheerful that year he died. I thought it was because of the holidays. But he was suffering and I didn't know it. I hated myself for it and I hate the holidays afterwards. I hate people acting cheerful around me, I can't stand it. They remind of…"

"Grandpa, camouflaging their real feelings," finished Amy.

Munch nodded. He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes.

"Anyway, I probably don't deserve your forgiveness. I gave another stupid reason…"

He went to get up, but Amy put her hand on his. He looked at her and she was smiling with a sad look in her eye.

"No, you do. I had no idea. Dad never told me," said Amy.

"Isaac was too young to remember, but Bernie was old enough."

"Explains why you two were never close."

"Never close...he tried to turn Isaac against me by saying it was my fault. He still blames me for Dad's death you know. When my mom found out, she brought the house down. I had never seen her so angry. Talk about a frosty Christmas that year. He never said it out in the open again, but it would always explain the differences we had."

"Did you find out what made Grandpa so depressed?" asked Amy.

"It turned out to be work. He got a pretty gruesome murder on the west side of Baltimore and I guess he couldn't take it," said Munch.

"Grandpa worked in Homicide?" asked Amy.

"Yeah. Talk about a family tradition. And why do you call him 'Grandpa'? You've never met him."

"No, but Dad would always tell me stories about him when he looked through this."

Amy pointed to the photo album.

"Hey! I thought Isaac got rid of this!" exclaimed Munch and began to flip through it.

"Dad never got rid of it, he kept adding to it. The binding is about to break though."

Munch kept flipping through it.

"First spaghetti meal?" asked Munch with a smirk as he came across Amy's first spaghetti dinner.

"Hey! That's private!" cried Amy as she took the photo album and began to flip through it. She stopped at a photo of Munch and her family.

"Ahhh…I remember this…Eighty's glasses!" she said laughing.

Munch grabbed the album.

"Those were the in-thing back then!" exclaimed Munch.

"Magnifying your eyes three times their normal size with a brown tint in the lenses was considered an in-thing back then? What about now?"

"Smaller is better," said Munch stiffly.

"You mean not getting laughed at is better."

"Amy, you wear glasses too!"

"Yes and when I was eight, I wore similar frames without the tint. I wanted the tint though."

Munch shook his head.

"You know, let's go out."

Amy did a double-take.

"Excuse me?"

"No, not like that!" said Munch, rolling his eyes, "I mean out to eat. Then we could swing over to the library and I need to swing over to my storage shed to pick up something."

Amy smiled and slid off her bed.

"And could we pick up my dress?" Amy asked.

"You changed your mind about the dance?"

"What do you mean changed my mind? Haven't you learned anything from me and my frustrated states? Never take anything I say in anger seriously.

Munch gave her his signature look over the glasses and Amy smile's turned serious.

"You feel up to it?" she asked as she looked through her closet to find something to wear.

Munch followed suit and looked at her before closing the door.

"Would I suggest something like this if I wasn't up to it?" he asked smartly.

The answer to his question was one of Amy's boxing gloves thrown at him just as he shut the door.


Before you starting screaming, let me tell you why I think Munch's father commited suicide around the holidays. Munch said in HLOTS (Homicide: Life On The Street) that most suicides occur around Christmas or the holidays in general. Whether Munch was spouting this off because hecouldn't understand why Bolander was decorating a tree, Crossetti, or some other unknown reason (which mine happens to fall in) remains unknown. If you remember from the Painless episode, Munch got punished "for being a wise ass" the night before his father died. Munch's father was a cop, so maybe hesaw something or caught a case he couldn't get it out of his mind. When Munch starts acting like a smart ass that night, his father repremands him for it. Now, maybe Munch's father said something along the lines that Munch wouldn't get what he wanted for Christmas if he kept up that smart-allec attitude. Munch's reply was what he said in Painless "I hate your guts." The last words he ever said to his father. Munch walks out to go to school with his younger brothers without saying goodbye to him. He comes home from school later, sees his father badge on the counter, walks into the bathroom, and then finds his father with a bullet through him. Bernie (Munch's brother in the funeral biz) in Homicide hated Munch for being "Mommy's favorite," but maybe it goes deeper than that, so I suggested he still blamed him for his father's death. I know it sounds childish, but then again, have you always held a grudge with a sibling?

Anyway, that's my theory. So, you like? Could you tell me by R&R please?