It was a beautiful Christmas morning in the city of Chicago.

Roughly 18 inches of snow blanketed every street, alley, and ghetto, calling for a tedious amount of shoveling and plowing to be done.

Santa Claus was probably back at the North Pole, getting blackout drunk on eggnog after a night of rewarding ungrateful privileged children with material wealth, more than likely making Mrs. Claus really think about those divorce papers.

All with the misfortune of having to work on Christmas Day were back at the ER, trying to subdue a deranged homeless man dressed as Santa Claus, who insisted on spreading all of his "joy" to the unlucky children waiting in chairs.

And our very own Rocket Romano had just been awoken. Rather rudely, I may add.

"You can take your lavish Christmas spirit and jam it right up your ass..." Romano growled into the pillow that rest under his head, already feeling the effects of their antics from the previous night. "Wake me up when the time is in the quadruple digits."

"Oh come on, Robbie! The sun's already up!" Peter whined from where he was hovering above the bald man on the bed, sitting on his knees, trying to shake him awake. He was already clad in baggy sweatpants and a grey T-shirt, leaving the other man in his boxers. His holiday excitement made Robert want to crush him with the big stupid Christmas tree that sat in his living room.

"Oh, the sun is up? What the hell do you want me to do about it, photosynthesize?" He growled back at the man, rolling over so that his back was to him. His usual tactic of trying to ignore the man, pretending he didn't exist.

It never really worked, though.

"It's 8 o'clock! Reese has been up for an hour, we've just been waiting for you to open presents!" Peter tried again, putting a hand on the man's shoulder, bringing his mouth down to his ear to yap in it. Robert still wasn't having any of it.

Peter lay back down on the bed again, spooning Romano, nuzzling his cheek as he pressed kisses against it, still trying to wear him down.

"Come on, Mr. Grinch! I'll make you some cocoa..." he proposed, drawing no reaction from the bald surgeon.

"Go to hell." Robert grumbled, his eyes shut tight against Peter's insistence.

Peter untangled himself from where he was wrapped around the man, hopping off the bed and leaving the room, much to Robert's excitement. 'Finally, the man fucking listens!'

And all was quiet, and Robert even dozed off not 20 seconds later, happy to snatch another hour or two of sleep before he had to choke down all that horrid Christmas cheer.

Well. That was until Peter made his grand reentrance, trudging over to the bed and depositing a very excited Reese on top of the grumpy bald man. The boy hugged Robert's shoulder, finally getting him to open his eyes.

"Okay, okay. I'm up..." he announced to the two, finally defeated, rolling over, letting Reese sit on his stomach. He tickled him, causing him to squeal with laughter. His only weakness when it came to his tendency to defy his tall, brawny lover.

"You better have gotten me something good, Petey..." Robert snarked, handing the boy to his father so he could retrieve his...well, Peter's black, fluffy robe.

"And last night wasn't enough?" Peter snarked right back as he started downstairs to the living room with Romano hot on his tail.

And with Peter's promise fulfilled, and a large mug of rich, steamy hot cocoa with just a hint of rum, our own balder, shorter, not so malevolent version of The Grinch watched with amusement as Reese tore open each one of his presents in turn, proudly showing them off to Peter, who pretended to be surprised at each toy and book he got from "Santa". He set each and every thing he got in Robert's lap to keep it safe, and then got right on to opening the next one, toddling to and fro.

The taller surgeon stole a few glances every now and then to his cold, wicked boss, who smiled brightly with each gift the boy presented him with, plucking it out of his hands and looking at it with amazement on his face, which was typically overrun with haughtiness and disdain. The sight warmed Peter's heart as he watched Romano with his son. He could yap all he wanted about how kids were the spawn of Satan and that Peter could never expect him to pay any attention to the boy, and that if anyone happened to find out about any of this he'd take the little guy for ransom, but deep down, they both knew one thing for certain; Romano was a big old softy when it came to Reese.

"That last one's from me." Robert told Peter as the boy picked up his last gift from under the tree, a blue box with a big red silk bow tied around it to keep it shut. Reese pulled the ribbon loose and opened it immediately, pulling out a shiny gold stethoscope, not unlike the one the shorter surgeon wore around his neck day in and day out.

"You do know he's deaf, right?" Peter asked the bald man, grinning at him as Reese tested out his new gadget immediately, crawling into his father's lap and pressing the circular end to his chest.

"Yes, Petey. I'm well aware that he's deaf. But all of us have one! I figured he shouldn't be left out," Romano explained, a light blush creeping across his cheeks as his gaze shifted to the various toys in his lap. "I er...got something for you too."

Romano then leaned over slightly, catching Reese's attention from where he was making sure his father's heart was okay. He signed to the boy, who obediently bounded back under the tree, retrieving another little box with a silk red bow on it, planting it into Peter's lap. He then went right back to trying out the apparatus, pressing the round metal end against his father's cheek.

Robert watched intently as the man opened up the box, pulling out a navy blue scrub cap with little gold saxophones printed on it.

"I noticed you never had your own scrub cap. Just those standard blue ones they give out along with your scrubs and gown," Robert explained, his gaze fixed again on the Hot Wheels Ford Mustang in his lap.

"You can just tell people Jackie made it for you...if you want to wear it," Robert's blush darkened as he continued. "You don't have to. Wear it, I mean. I just—" his panicked stammering ceased as Peter shut him up with a soft kiss, setting the cap in his lap to caress his cheek with the one hand that he wasn't using to hold Reese. Robert sighed into the kiss, trying to lean closer to the man as best he could without knocking any of his son's toys off his lap.

"I love it." Peter murmured softly as soon as they pulled away, smiling at the bald man brightly. It was contagious, and Robert soon found himself smiling right back at him. Peter leaned back forward to kiss his dimples, causing his smile to grow even wider as he broke into a fit of giggles.

"I love it almost as much as I love you," the tall surgeon said, causing our little Grinch's heart to swell. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you anything. I spent a while shopping for Reese and I wasn't too sure what you'd like, and before I knew it, it was almost Christmas Eve—"

"Peter, honey, it's fine." Robert interjected, holding the man's hand in both of his own, looking into his deep, tinted eyes. "This is the first Christmas I've spent with someone other than my dog. Believe me, that's enough of a gift on it's own." The big gray behemoth in question had been lounging in front of Peter's roaring fireplace, sleeping away the excitement of having explored a new place as the two made merry on the opposite side of the living room.

Peter kissed Robert's cheek, putting his free arm around him. He leaned his bald head against his shoulder, smiling as his eyes appraised the Christmas tree before them, which was lit up, covered in little rainbow colored lightbulbs and ornaments of every kind. Reese remained in Peter's lap, still enthralled with his new gold stethoscope.

Peter turned his head slightly after a little while of savoring the moment, looking into Robert's coffee colored eyes, his own globes glimmering in a way that made the bald man's heart skip a beat.

"You wanna go out and build a snowman?" He asked, grinning. Robert chuckled, leaning his head back against Peter's.

"I'm serious! Me and Reese do it every year. And we've still got a couple hours before his mother comes to pick him up."

A new thought popped into Robert's head, causing him to get all flustered all over again.

"I can leave in a bit, if you want. I mean, I know your family's coming over soon and..." he trailed off, his gaze fixed at the forgotten pile of torn up wrapping paper on the floor.

"What for?" Peter questioned the man, giving him a squeeze with one arm. "Trust me, Robert. They'll love you. And I only know that because I love you. We don't have to tell them anything yet." He assured the man, kissing his head. Robert pondered for a moment, as he did, before answering.

"Alright. But only if you insist. I don't wanna cause any trouble with you."

"You won't cause any trouble Robert! They don't suspect a thing." Peter assured him again. "Except for Jackie. But as long as I do the laundry when I stay over, she's kept her mouth shut."

"So that's all I'm worth to you? A load of dirty laundry?" The bald man snarked again, feigning a hurt look at Benton.

"No, of course not. You're worth way more to me than some clothes, Robert," Benton told him as Reese crawled onto Robert's lap to try and listen to his heart now, pushing his toys out of the way. "But don't let her know that!"

Robert laughed again, shaking his head slightly.

"Well. Now that's settled, how about that snowman?" Benton propositioned again.

"Okay. Just give me a few minutes to get out from under all of this and get some more layers on." Romano agreed finally, looking down at Reese, who took up whatever space on his lap that wasn't already occupied with his new toys.

And so out the two heroes of our story went, along with their excited little sidekick, who still insisted on wearing his stethoscope on top of his big puffy jacket and snow pants.

And complete with a snowman that was taller than Robert, and a snowball fight instigated by the bald man who insisted he was better at making snowmen than Peter, it's safe to say that everyone in our little story here had a very Merry Christmas.

Oh, except for Kerry Weaver, who got shat on by a homeless man with amebic dysentery dressed as Santa Claus. She lost her prized lab coat, and had to spend two hours borrowing the patient shower room just to get the chunks out of her hair.

But other than that, it was a lovely holiday!
(Or maybe because of it, if you see it from my point of view)

to be continued...