Warnings: mild language, mentioned OC death (past), mild ableist language (period accurate)

Christmas off was not a given in a firefighter's schedule. Emergencies did not take Christmas off. There were plenty of calls and traffic accidents and drunk drivers and family disputes to keep any station occupied for the holiday season. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, guys with families would usually try to pick up all the OT they could in order to afford presents for their children, but when the day rolled around, the single guys got their OT, guys like Chet and Johnny and Mike and Marco.

They didn't really mind working Christmas, scheduled or not. Chet had no family, really, and Johnny's family lived rather far away. Marco's family celebrated more on Three Kings' Day in January. Mike's family was fairly flexible when it came to celebrating with him, knowing the high value he placed on his work. Cap and Roy did have their own families to celebrate with, however, so the two of them worked to get the day off and usually succeeded. There was no such luck for Cap this year, but Roy was able to secure a replacement. This Christmas, Johnny (and the rest of 51s) were left to deal with Craig Brice.

Mike rather liked Brice, actually. He didn't quite understand why the guys got so agitated. Okay, I can kinda see how he gets on people's nerves. Brice liked to follow rules, to the exact letter, no wiggle room whatsoever. Now, rules were, of course, there to keep everyone safe, but sometimes they needed to be bent a little to fit their needs. For instance, the paramedics were supposed to keep the compartment doors on the squad locked, but the nature of their duties meant it wasn't always best for business. Precious seconds could be wasted by needing to unlock the compartments, so generally they went about their business without locking them. Mike liked Brice, and he hoped the young paramedic didn't have to learn some things the hard way.

He found Brice alone in the dorm while Marco tried to help Chet salvage dinner for that night. The young paramedic was reading a large medical text, likely related to his work but possibly not. He pushed those glasses of his up his nose, shook his head to get his hair out of his eyes, tapped the back cover of his book with his finger in a triplet beat. He seemed younger than he was, with the big glasses and shaggy hair and round face. He was just three months out of paramedic training, just over a year and a half out of the Academy. Johnny had complained about Brice that morning while they were supposed to be making up the dorm because Brice wanted to redo the bunks three times.

"… so I just left him in there. I did what I was s'posed to do. Not my fault he wants to go in and rearrange the whole damn place," Johnny grumped.

Just because Mike understood why others got irritated with him didn't mean he got irritated, though. People thought Brice felt he was better than everyone else, smarter than everyone else, had a holier-than-thou attitude because of it. Mike could see that wasn't the case. He could tell that Brice simply felt that rules were made to be followed and that not following rules had consequences. There's just something… well, not 'wrong' with him… but different. Yeah, he's just a little different. Mike kind of knew what that felt like. They were similar to notions people tended to have about him due to his quietness. Guys used to think I was stuck up 'cause I never liked to join in on the conversations around the dinner table.

"Is there something you require of me, Stoker?" Brice asked, not looking up from his book.

"Not really," Mike shrugged, "I was just tryin' to keep outta Marco and Chet's way. Marco's tryin' to salvage our Christmas dinner. Hopefully, it'll be edible."

"What did Kelly do to render it inedible?"

"Just what he always does. He overthinks it, tries to experiment with ingredients, that sorta thing. Every station has one."

"Has one of what?" Brice queried.

"A guy that probably shouldn't be allowed within ten feet of a kitchen with intent to use it. Anyway, they're in the kitchen, Cap's got paperwork, and Johnny's too grumpy to deal with right now. Hadn't seen you for a while, so I figured I'd look for you and see what you were up to."

"I've just been catching up on some medical knowledge. One can never be too prepared in our profession."

Mike nodded, took a closer look at the book.

"Is-? Brice, is that book in-in German?"

"Yes."

"I didn't know you know German, is all."

"My spoken German isn't quite up to par, but it's a fifth language. My French and Latin are both very good, though my Spanish is rather rough. German is my worst. I can write and read each of them fairly proficiently, however."

"That's still pretty impressive. Gotta say my Spanish is nothin' special, either. Didn't particularly retain Latin too well in high school, but…" Mike paused, cut himself off.

Brice looked at him curiously. I ought to trust him. Hell, I pretty much told the whole of the fire department at Bobby's funeral… The young paramedic blinked, waiting politely and patiently for him to continue.

"Well, when you learn a language from when you're a kid, when two languages are used in the home, that other language is learned just like a native language… 'cause it kinda is."

"What other language was spoken in your home?" Brice asked.

He looked genuinely curious as to what Mike would say next. Mike let the interest build, sitting on Johnny's bunk across from Brice, before finally saying, "Sign language."

Brice cocked his head, asked, "Your parents are both deaf? Or only one?"

"Both."

"Were they both born deaf?"

"My mother was. My dad went deaf in the Navy in WWII, and he's only mostly deaf, has a hearing aid for work, but he doesn't always use it at home and can't hear anything without it."

"That seems dangerous."

"They've always had someone hearing live with them, so that helps."

Brice took a moment to process what Mike told him. After a moment, he nodded.

"Stoker, would you be willing to teach me some sign language that would be useful in the field? If that would make you uncomfortable, you could direct me to a place I could learn from someone else."

"I could try, I suppose. It might be difficult, since we're on opposite shifts, but we could work it out, I think, if you're serious."

"Very serious. Could we start now?"

He looked excited… excited as he could be anyway. Mike shrugged, "I don't see why not. We'll start with the alphabet, just like learning any other language. This way you can always fingerspell what you don't know…"

Brice picked it up quickly, watching Mike do it a few times before attempting it himself. Mike then had him fingerspell a few things, like his name and some longer words.

"It's a little easier to start this way," Mike explained, "Sign language has kind of a funky syntax. There are some little words that get dropped like 'is' and 'be' and 'are'. It makes signing quicker. Instead of saying 'I am a firefighter,' you'd simply sign 'I firefighter.' It's kind of a silly sign, but it works…"

Mike brought his hand up to his forehead, palm flat and facing out, and tapped the back of his hand lightly against his forehead twice, and spoke again, "That's 'firefighter.' There's not a sign for paramedic yet. It's too new."

"Have you considered teaching others in the department useful sign language?"

"No, not really. I didn't really let on that my folks are deaf."

"Are you ashamed of them?"

"Absolutely not. People just get to-… they get different sometimes when they know my parents are deaf. They start to feel sorry for me for dumb reasons, so I stopped telling people. Guys in the department know I can sign now, because I did it at Capt. Starrett's funeral this summer. His son was born deaf."

"I think it would be of great value to the department if one man from each station, preferably a paramedic, would learn a series of simple phrases that would be useful to diagnosis. I can understand your reasons for not wanting to do it yourself, but if you were to facilitate such lessons, it would be helpful, as you know what would be useful in the field."

"That's a really good idea, Brice. I'll definitely think about it some. Say, you took to it pretty quick."

"I like to learn new things and keep busy. I don't like to be bored. I never have. Learning something new was the easiest way to prevent boredom. It kept me out of the way."

Mike opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but the door to the dorm opened, and Marco said, "There you are. I think we managed to save Christmas dinner. Should be ready in a few more minutes. What have you guys been up to?"

Brice blinked and looked to Mike, as if asking permission to tell Marco about their lesson. Kid knows how to keep secrets, I'll give him that. Mike told Marco, "Brice and me were just talkin'. He's interested in learning sign language to help in the field."

"Yeah? Is he better than me?"

"He picks it up faster, but you've got more… feeling," Mike said, "Don't take that as a dig, Brice. The emotion comes through in time. I know you'll get there. Here, come help me set the table."

Mike and Brice setting the table turned into Brice setting the table, carefully aligning the plates and silverware until they met his satisfaction. For their parts, Chet and Johnny kept their mouths shut. Maybe the Christmas spirit was getting to them, because usually there would have been at least ten comments directed at Brice by now. Everyone managed to behave through dinner, sharing stories about their families… save for Chet and Brice. Chet had a story or two but was uncharacteristically quiet; Brice was silent altogether. It was odd for Mike to not be the silent one.

Johnny and Brice were toned out toward the end of dinner, along with another squad for some kind of family dispute.

"Don't know how people get into fights this time of year," Chet mumbled, helping Mike clear the table, "You'd think people would be grateful around Christmas, grateful for family, for what they have…"

Mike looked up at him but didn't speak, knew Chet would keep going sooner or later, was unable to keep anything to himself for too long. They took the dirty dishes to the sink and started scrubbing. To Mike's surprise, Chet didn't say anything right away. They scrubbed in silence for a few minutes before Mike finally asked, "What's wrong, Chet?"

"Nothin'…"

"It's something. You've been almost as quiet as me tonight. C'mon, what's wrong?"

He sighed quietly, remained silent for a moment, said in a low voice, "Well… well, I got no family. My parents moved out here from New York right after they got married. My dad died in Korea in '52, when me and my brother were kids, then our mom got cancer in '68 when I was over in Vietnam, so I got discharged on a hardship, 'cause my brother wasn't really any good and he couldn't take care of her. Mom died not long after I got home, and my brother OD'd a year later on heroin."

Chet said it all very matter-of-factly, as if he were commenting on the weather.

"Re-Really? Oh, God… Chet, I'm sorry. That's-… holy shit…"

The young lineman shrugged, saying, "It is what it is. Shit, I can't change it any more than anybody else can. Just sucks though, when I see people fightin' with their families when there's people like me who don't have family or who have really shitty families. People should be thankful to have good family when there's people that don't. That's all."

"Who else here knows all that about you?"

"Nobody- well, I mean, nobody I've told. Cap might. It's all in my file, so if he's read that at all, he'd know. I don't go around mopin' about it, though. Don't want people's pity, is all. I don't need it. Everybody's got struggles in life. What makes mine any worse?" he said.

"Well… well, you've got family now," Mike told him, "We're your family, Chet. You can count on that. It sounds really sappy and stuff, but it's true. Look-… umm, look, I just want you to know that if you ever need to talk about anything, anything heavy, you can talk to me. I keep pretty good secrets."

"Yeah. I know, Mike. I really appreciate it. I mean that. It's just… I hafta make myself do it."

Quiet reigned for a minute or so while they cleaned, until Chet said, "Honestly, Mike, I thought you were gonna try to get today off, too… to spend the day with the Starretts. The first Christmas after a death is always hard."

Mike swallowed, clenched his jaw. He replied, "Yeah, well… I was goin' to… but Maggie said they oughta spend it alone. I can't replace their dad, can't replace Bobby. I don't wanna replace him, and me spending Christmas with them would feel too much like that. Maggie and I thought it would be best. I'll go around in a couple days with some presents for the kids."

"You're probably right. It's probably for the best. Hey, man, I'll finish up here. I wanna keep myself occupied, keep my hands busy. You go chill… find Marco, maybe. I dunno where he got off to."

"Are you sure? I don't mind helping."

"I'm sure. You helped plenty. Get outta here."

Johnny and Brice returned after a long period, both looking a little worse for wear. Brice even had a split lip, and Johnny's expression was particularly grumpy as he stalked into the kitchen. Mike watched Brice slink into the locker room and followed him. The young paramedic was looking at his split lip in the mirror.

"What happened, Brice?"

"There was a family dispute. We were dispatched to it."

"I know that much. What happened to you?"

"It was already a heated situation when we arrived to back up 45s, and this family, the McClellans, were not pleased by our presence nor that of the police. I was treating a young lady of about sixteen when her boyfriend, who was nineteen and burly, apparently took exception to my touching her to administer treatment and hit me. He's currently in jail for assault."

He sighed and began to adjust his rumpled uniform, smoothing out wrinkles and looking for stains.

"Gage seems to think," Brice said after a moment, "I said something to provoke the attack and has asked me to refrain from speaking in the future."

"I don't imagine he did so politely."

"His request was polite given the situation. He did help pull the man off me, as a matter of fact, received some hits in the process. I didn't necessarily require the help, but it was appreciated."

"That's good. I wouldn't wanna have to tell Johnny off for bein' rude."

Brice shrugged, "Again, such an action would be unnecessary but appreciated. I'm quite used to such admonishments. I've been hearing them since childhood."

Just like Chet earlier, he said this matter-of-factly, like he was rattling off a tidbit from his medical book.

"You've got a good story, at least, Brice. Can't beat that, a good story."

Brice said nothing, returned to readjusting his uniform. Mike held back his sigh.

"Anyway," he told the paramedic, "Lights out is in thirty minutes. Lemme know if you need anything."

xXxXx

"So, you and Brice are getting along pretty well," Marco commented on their way home in the morning, "You make a new friend?"

His voice was light and teasing, trying to get a rise but knowing he wouldn't.

"It's just that the guys all kinda gang up on the poor kid, especially Johnny and Chet. I mean, he's a nice kid and a good paramedic. He's just kinda… odd. I just don't want him to feel left out or like he doesn't belong. He doesn't deserve that. I can't imagine he has too many friends."

"I can't imagine he has any friends," Marco mumbled.

"Marco!"

"What?"

"Wanna know what I heard about Brice?" Mike said, turning to look briefly at Marco before looking back at the road, "Hasn't be able to last a full two weeks on one shift, that's what I heard. They shuffle the poor kid around because no one'll take the time to learn to work with him. I know he's weird and difficult to work with, but there's gotta be someone out there with the patience to try. He's practically a permanent replacement. He's only been at 8s two weeks and McCabe already wants him gone."

Marco sighed, "I didn't hear that," and Mike added, "Plus, he got hurt on that domestic disturbance call, and Johnny practically blamed him for it. I get the feeling he's never fit in anywhere."

He looked to Mike. Always looking for the best in people… always wants to be the best other people look for. Mike had always been a softie (at least as long as Marco had known him, and previous evidence seemed to back this up), but especially in the last few months, he'd become even kinder. Marco was quite sure it had everything to do with Bobby's death ad him wanting to be the sort of person Bobby was. He already was, of course, but even moreso now. It seemed genuine, too, not a cheap imitation of kindness that asks for praise following a good deed but the sort that performs kindness for kindness' sake alone. Marco was a good person, certainly, but he still had some failings, just like anyone else. He got the feeling Brice would become a sort of project for Mike… and Marco would have no choice but to be a part of it.

"Well, Mike, I think it's good of you to befriend Brice… or try to, anyway. Oh, did you talk to Chet at all this past shift? He seemed kinda down, but he wouldn't talk to me."

"I did, but I don't wanna say anything. He kinda told me in confidence, and while I trust you completely, I don't wanna betray his trust."

Marco nodded. That was fair. He just hoped it wasn't too serious. Chet was a good guy, but he let things eat at him, wouldn't talk about a problem until it became too difficult for him to deal with on his own and usually long after he should've asked for help. He'd stayed with Mike and Marco separately once or twice before. Johnny was his go-to now, having stayed at his place a few times when he was feeling down, and Marco knew Cap had invited him to stay at his place following Starrett's funeral. I get the feeling Chet'll end up at our place eventually, probably. Guess we'll figure that out when we come to it… He turned to look at Mike again as they pulled up to their apartment.

"You're so good, querido," he said quietly, "Such a good man. Did you know that?"

Color crept into Mike's cheeks, and he replied, "I try to be."

"You succeed… with flying colors. Must be why I got you such a good Christmas present."

"Yeah? Maybe it's why I got you such a good one, too."

The cats were happy to see them and happier to be fed. Once they were occupied, Marco and Mike went into their bedroom, ready to have a nice nap after the shift they had.

"Here, I can't wait anymore," Mike said after they changed into their pajamas, "I want you to open your present now. Close your eyes, babe…"

Marco smirked but obeyed. He felt Mike shift, rising from the bed and returning after a moment, saying, "Okay, you can open them now…"

"Oh, Mike… Mike, it-it's beautiful…"

The gold crucifix was finely wrought, set on a chain that was thin but not delicate. He took it gently from Mike's hands and looked more closely, turning it over to look at the back. Engraved in small letters was the phrase 'En Memoria Cariñosa.'

"Do you like it, Marco?" Mike asked.

"It's perfect. C'mere…"

Marco drew him in for a kiss, saying, "You're perfect, too, Mike… always have been. Lemme go get your present…"

He went to the closet and reached into a coat pocket.

"Here, querido. I hope you like it as much as I like this."

Mike carefully opened the box, and his eyes lit up as he pulled out the watch.

" 'To MES- Watch the time, but don't waste it. Love, MAL.' Marco, this- I dunno what to say. This is-… it's wonderful. I love it… almost as much as I love you."

They shared another kiss, sweet and soft and full of love. Marco pulled away before it got too heated, cupping Mike's cheek, and murmured, "Feliz Navidad, mi cariño."

"Merry Christmas, Marco."

Marco and Mike curled up in each other's arms and settled in for a nice nap. The next holiday was New Year's Eve, and Mike informed Marco they were invited to a party by his mother.

"Hmm, well, Johnny called while you were in the shower and said he was setting up a get-together at Roy's house with Roy."

"Yeah? And when were you gonna tell me about it?"

Marco shrugged, "Sorry, I was busy makin' breakfast for you."

Mike rolled his eyes, saying, "Well, maybe we could go to Mom and Dad's early and then go to Roy's for midnight."

"That might work. I'll figure out how I'm gonna kiss you at midnight later."

"You might just hafta wait 'til after midnight… though I may be willing to make the wait worth it."

"Maybe not, we have work in the morning, remember?"

"Oh yeah… well, I'll work it out."

The little party at the Stokers' was fun. Mike's nieces were excited by the prospect of being allowed to stay up until midnight, though when Marco and Mike left at ten, the girls were down for the count. Everyone was at Roy's when they arrived.

"Kids in bed, Roy?" Marco asked.

"You kiddin'? They'd be sneakin' down here every five minutes for one thing or another just to be part of the commotion," Roy replied, "They're at Joanne's parents' until Chris has to start school again. Joanne's in the kitchen right now."

"Nope, I'm right here. I need to keep an eye on all you rowdy firemen," Joanne smirked.

"You don't trust me?"

"You, yes. Some of your friends, not exactly…"

Mike snorted softly beside Marco and asked, "So, we miss anything good?"

"Not really. I think everyone here is on tomorrow, so it's not gettin' crazy."

"I think Joanne here would take any one of the guys here down a peg if they did," Marco said.

"You're damn right I would," Joanne replied, "Don't have to worry about you two, though. C'mere, you fellas want a drink? We've got plenty of beer, or I can mix something up for you…"

They just grabbed a couple Budweisers and moved on to mingling. The rest of their shift was there, as well as some guys from other stations Marco recognized, a few he'd worked with. Johnny was loudly recounting the story of the Christmas domestic disturbance he and Brice had been called to, with one of the guys from 45s there to corroborate or deny where applicable.

"Oh come on, Gage!" Rob Pettit said, "It wasn't either three guys that jumped Brice! It was just one, and it looked to me like Brice had a handle on it."

"He did not! That dude walloped him in the face, Pettit! You saw it!"

"Yeah, saw he had a split lip. Already had that guy half-wrestled to the ground, though. You were the one almost got your ass beat by a nineteen year old."

Johnny made a face at Pettit and started another story, presumably one no one else could refute. Mike had made his way over to Cap and his wife Ginny. Marco made the rounds, saying hi to various firemen, belatedly noticing Chet had disappeared from the party. I saw him when we got here… where could he have gone? He wouldn't leave without saying goodbye… Marco finished his beer and went looking for his partner. The younger lineman usually wanted to be the center of attention, wanted to make people laugh at some stupid joke or crazy story. For him to hide out and be quiet was not right. That wasn't Chet Kelly. Marco finally found him outside, sitting on the steps of Roy's deck with a beer. He didn't turn as Marco approached.

"Chet, manito, you okay?" Marco asked quietly, sitting beside him.

He shrugged, said, "Yeah, I'm okay, I guess," continued looking up at the sky.

"You don't hafta lie to us, y'know," Marco told him gently, "We can tell something's wrong. I can tell. You've been down since Christmas."

"Did Mike tell you I talked to him?"

"He said you talked. He didn't say what about. Said he didn't wanna betray your trust."

"Mike's a good guy, that's why. You're lucky to have him. We all are."

"Doesn't explain to me why you're feelin' so down. Honestly, you seemed fine on Christmas 'til Johnny and Brice got that domestic disturbance run… maybe until dinner. Look, we're just worried about you. We care about you, Chet."

"It's just-…" Chet started, wet his lips, continued, "I don't have any family. They're all dead. They have been for a few years, at least. Didn't go all at once, but they're gone anyway. It's just a fact. None of them lived to see me hit twenty-five, and sometimes-… well, it gets kinda heavy, y'know? Times like this, when everyone talks about being with their family and having a good time or arguing with their family and I'm seein' happy families all over the fuckin' place… it can get a guy down."

"I have no idea… no idea what that must feel like."

"Feels like shit… but it's what it is. Like I told Mike, I can't change it, neither can anyone else. No point in mopin' about it, but… but sometimes you can't help it. You're just-… you feel sad, and there's nothing you can do to feel happy."

"Now, I do know what that feels like."

"Yeah, well, right now I'm just havin' trouble feelin' happy. Should pass after the holidays."

He looked at his watch and told Marco, "Midnight approaches. Better get Mike out here. He might be upset if you don't kiss him at midnight."

Marco blinked at Chet, unsure if he heard what he thought he did. Chet let out a small huff of laughter, saying, "I'm not stupid, Marco. I'll send him out for you. I'll even make a distraction for you if you want."

Marco started stammering, "I-I'm- we're not- it's not like-"

"You can't fool me, Marco. Look, I'm happy for you guys. I really am. I'm so glad two people I care about are in love and are just so happy."

"You're not-? It doesn't bother you?"

"Not a bit. Honestly, as long as you still kick ass at work and nobody's bein' hurt, why should it bother me? Now, are you gonna kiss him at midnight or not?"

Chet looked less upset, more determined. Marco asked, "What kind of distraction?"

"I dunno. I'll probably get Johnny all wet or rile him up. That's always fun."

Marco still couldn't quite believe it. He trusted Chet in all things, but he couldn't deny a large part of him was terrified. What if Chet went in and outed both of them, calling everyone to the door to watch them kiss and kick them out of the department? He didn't want to think that of Chet, but plenty of guys who came out to close friends found out they weren't friends after all. This wasn't a risk they could take. Chet sighed, "Look, Marco, I'm an asshole, I'll grant you that, but even I have limits to my assholery. I've lost my whole family. I don't get close to people if I can help it because those people tend to die before their time. Knowin' you two are in love really does make me happy. I would never betray that trust in a million years, could never out you. I swear on the graves of my entire family, I would never do that. I just want you to be happy."

"You-? You mean that? You promise?"

"I promise, Marco."

This is too good to be true… but he's not lying. I know he's not lying. I can tell he's serious. Mike chose that moment to come out onto the patio, asking, "You guys okay? Everything's alright?"

Chet spoke up first, "Yeah, Mike, we're alright. I was just gettin' ready to go back inside. It's midnight in a few minutes… sure nice out here, though… private, too."

He gave them a wink and headed inside.

"What was that about?" Mike asked.

"Chet, uh… Chet knows. About us. He figured it out."

Mike's eyes went wide.

"Are you serious? Is he gonna-? He's not- He wouldn't tell anybody… would he?"

"No, he said he's happy for us, doesn't care what we do in our free time. He's even gonna make a distraction for us so no one will come outside. He, uh, he wanted to be sure I could kiss you at midnight."

"This is a joke, right? It's a joke. You're joking. He's joking, isn't he?"

"Nope, he was dead serious."

Mike's expression was stunned, his eyes blinking and blue in the weak moonlight. A loud yell sounded from inside the DeSoto house, quickly followed by peals of laughter, then cheers as midnight hit. I think that's our distraction.

"Sounds like Chet's a man of his word," Mike said.

"I never doubted it."

He carefully pulled Mike off to the side, out of view of the patio door. His eyes were bright and beautiful, his features soft, his body warm.

"Well," Mike whispered, "here's to a very happy New Year, babe…"

Mike's lips were also soft and warm… as was the rest of his mouth.