§ § § - December 25, 2001

It was a little past nine that night; it had been quite a long day, between exchanging presents with their friends, having a hearty Christmas dinner with Roarke and giving and receiving still more gifts, and having their own private Christmas-gift exchange a few short hours ago. Now Christian and Leslie sat on the sofa holding each other, her head on his shoulder, both gazing dreamily into the colorful tree lights that provided the only illumination in the room.

"This was the best Christmas of my life," Christian said softly, letting out a small contented sigh. "We spoke with everyone back in Lilla Jordsö, and had a wonderful holiday dinner, received so many beautiful and thoughtful gifts, had the pleasure of giving things to good friends…made some happy Christmas memories with your father…" He dipped his head and dropped a kiss atop Leslie's. "And most of all, being here with you, having you as my wife, spending my first Christmas with you."

She lifted her head and gave him a long, slow kiss that left him breathing a little fast when she pulled back. "I've had a lot of happy Christmas seasons here myself, but this one was complete because you were here. You know, I've never been so happy in all my life? I can't think of anything left to wish for. You were all I wanted last year, and this year I got that wish, and if you were the only present I got this year it would have been perfect."

Christian grinned. "Maybe next year I'll wrap myself in some expensive paper and lie under the tree so that you'll find me there on Christmas morning."

"Hmmm," Leslie murmured, intrigued. "You under the tree, wearing just some wrapping paper? I think you better be careful I don't hold you to that, my love." He raised an eyebrow, she snickered, and they started to laugh together, hugging each other. "Just out of curiosity, what'd you finally do with that stupid contract, anyway?"

"Oh, that," said Christian comfortably, relaxing again. "As a matter of fact, I had something in mind, but I wanted to wait until I could do this with just you. Why don't you wait for me on the patio, my Rose, and I'll be out to join you in just a moment."

Leslie stood on the smooth slate flagstones gazing into the sky when Christian came out of the house, with the parchment in one hand and a book of matches in the other. "I'm going to have a private ceremonial bonfire," he said at her surprised look. "Right back here." He led her out to a corner of the backyard where a birdbath stood just under a feeder that they had hung from a tree over the summer. "I thought, we really should change the water in this thing anyway, and emptied it out to do that, then realized it would be perfect for the purpose. So I didn't bother to refill it yet. It should have had enough time to dry out by now." He gave her the parchment. "If you'll do the honors, my darling, just unfold it and lay it in the bath there, and I'll put an end to it once and for all."

Leslie smiled and spread out the paper, then placed it into the birdbath and took a step back, clasping her hands behind her. "Did you have some solemn incantation in mind when you were thinking about this?" she teased him.

Christian laughed. "Herregud, it wasn't worth that much effort," he said, making her laugh as well with agreement. "Now, let's see if I can do this." He pulled out a match and tried to strike it, without success. Leslie giggled sympathetically.

"Don't you hate paper matches?" she remarked. "I can never light the stupid things. If you want to get this over with, there's a box of wooden ones in the kitchen cabinet next to the refrigerator."

"I always had trouble with paper ones too," Christian said and paused for a moment to grin at her. "As a matter of fact, it was probably what saved me from getting into the smoking habit when I was about seventeen. Some so-called friend offered me a cigarette, and I thought I'd see what the fuss was all about…but I couldn't light the damned thing to save my life, since all he had was paper matches that just refused to cooperate with me. I told him that if I had to go to that much trouble just to get it lit, it wasn't worth it. He gave me a very strange look, blew a cloud of smoke in my face and walked away, which cemented my decision to avoid smoking once and for all."

Leslie burst out laughing. "If I had the name of that alleged friend of yours, I'd write him a thank-you note for turning you off that nasty habit." Christian laughed too and dropped the paper matches atop the parchment while she went after the wooden ones.

"Nobody ever tempted you to smoking, did they?" he asked when she returned.

"Someone tried," Leslie admitted. "I was seventeen too, and at the time there was a mumps epidemic going around Fantasy Island High. I remember telling Father and Tattoo, and Tattoo got all frantic and told Father he should keep me out of school. But he'd made sure I got booster shots shortly after I'd moved here, so he saw no reason to keep me home. Anyway, somehow all the other girls came down with mumps at the same time, and one fine day in late January I was eating lunch alone. There was this girl named Cori Mukulani who lived near the fishing village, I think. She was very overweight and had the world's shortest fuse—if you happened to look at her and she was in a bad mood, she'd pick a fight."

Christian snorted, amused. "Did you do something to provoke her that day?"

"It's probably just that I was there alone. She knew who I was, and I guess she thought it might be fun to try to corrupt Mr. Roarke's ward. She got all buddy-buddy with me and told me she had a secret…so, being dumb, I followed her back behind a storage shed on the school grounds. Next thing you know she was whipping out a pack of cancer sticks and telling me she was using them to lose weight. I thought she was nuts, and I said so; she just laughed at me, lit one, took a puff and tried to give it to me. I mean, she stuck it right in my face." Christian's eyes widened, and she nodded. "When she did that, the butt end flared up, and smoke curled up and somehow got right up my nose, and before I could stop myself I'd breathed it in. I coughed so hard I finally threw up. I completely grossed Cori out and wound up having to go home early, which meant I had to tell Father everything."

Christian started to laugh. "I hope he understood it wasn't your fault!" She nodded and laughed with him, and he struck a match and touched it to the corner of the parchment. The paper almost immediately caught, flaring up brightly in the tropical evening. Christian dropped in the match and slid his arm around Leslie; they stood and watched the paper burn. A breeze lifted their hair and shot some sparks in the air from their little fire, making them laugh again and huddle close.

When all that remained was a pile of ashes in the birdbath, Christian turned to Leslie and tilted her head back. "All I did was burn a piece of paper, but it feels symbolic: it seems as if I've been set free at long last. The count gave me a Christmas gift too, I think."

She smiled at him. "Both of us. Merry Christmas, my love."

"Merry Christmas, my Leslie Rose," he said softly and kissed her in the moonlight.

One of my rather enormous cast of supporting characters will be pulled into the spotlight for the next tale. If it goes the way this one did, expect it within a week… (grin!)