Chapter Three

Steve chuckled as he held the mistletoe over his head. "Now you have to kiss me; it's the law, you know."

"Do I hafta?" Jaime whined, stomping her foot with mock seriousness. Inside, her heart was leaping for joy. "Well...alright." She gave him a soft, quick kiss and nearly swooned as Steve's eyes captured her own. Closing the gap between them, she kissed him again – a real kiss this time – and Jaime was pleasantly surprised by how natural andright it felt.

Steve had never forgotten how well she fit in his arms. His one and only Christmas wish had been granted, and his lips danced with Jaime's as their bodies and souls joyfully became re-acquainted.

"And you haven't even hung it up yet," Jaime said when they surfaced for air.

"Do I need to?"

"Um...no." She kissed him again. Jaime wasn't sure if she was feeling the past re-surfacing or if this was brand-new, but it didn't seem to matter. "Remember that Christmas when we weren't speaking to each other and our moms tried to play matchmaker?"

"There was mistletoe over every doorway," Steve recalled, laughing. "And a few extra for good measure."

"God, we were stubborn."

"We?"

"I wasn't fighting with myself, ya know," Jaime said lightly.

Together, they moved over to the little sofa beside the fireplace. Steve shook his head, smiling at the memory. "I seem to recall a surly little teenybopper who kept tossing her hair over her shoulder while she pretended to be ignoring me."

"I was NOT surly – and...teenybopper?"

"Well, you were only thirteen -"

"I was never a 'teenybopper'!" Jaime insisted, giving him a playful whack on the arm.

"So you didn't stick out that lower lip, fold your arms across your chest and stomp into your bedroom, slamming the door in my face?"

"Ok, alright – you win. I was surly." As they shared a laugh, Jaime's head drifted onto Steve's shoulder. "We're supposed to be observing up here," she reminded him.

"I'm seeing everything I need to see, at this very moment." Steve ran a gentle hand through Jaime's hair, happily noting how the contact caused her to snuggle even closer. "I've got a feeling Oscar won't mind if we skip the report on this one."

"I owe him the world's biggest apology," Jaime mused, "but there's no phone here, is there?"

"We've got a datacom, but it's pretty late."

Jaime glanced at her watch. "It's only 10:00 – in Goldman-time, that's practically the middle of the day."

"You know the chopper's coming back first thing in the morning, right?" Steve reluctantly reminded her.

"Yeah; I guess we can apologize – and thank him – tomorrow." Neither one of them wanted the evening to end, but when they both yawned at the same moment, they knew it was time.

Jaime tilted her head up for one more very tender, lingering kiss before they retired to the two nearly closet-sized bedrooms. Steve and Jaime both fell asleep with huge grins on their faces and joy in their hearts.

- - - - - -

Almost immediately, Steve began to dream...

He dreamed of the first Christmas after he and Jaime had met. She was quite the little spitfire (for a five-year-old), and young Steve had been fascinated by the way her pigtails bobbed whenever she moved – which was most of the time. Even though he'd decided that girls had cooties, she was different because she was Jaime.

Steve also saw the Christmas season from his Senior year of high school. They'd decorated both families' tree together while trying to pretend they were as interested in ornaments as they were in each other. He'd invited Jaime to his class's New Years Eve party, and the teasing from his schoolmates – Hey, Austin, robbing the cradle? - drifted right on past him. He was too excited at finally having her on his arm (and on a real, 'official' date!) that he barely noticed and certainly didn't care what the others had to say. Midnight came, and with it, Steve and Jaime's first real kiss. From that moment until the present day, Jaime had held his heart firmly in her hands, and - even at age eighteen – he'd known with unflinching certainty that they were meant to be together. He may have flirted a bit, testing the waters, especially in his college years, but Jaime was still the only woman Steve had ever truly loved.

Across the hall, Jaime was dreaming, too...

She and Steve were humming Christmas carols as they helped their small children carefully hang ornaments on the tree. Steve's hand rested gently on Jaime's stomach, where baby number three was growing strong and healthy, soon to be born. A warm, rich fire blazed in the large, stone hearth, and Jaime handed out mugs of hot cocoa heaped with tiny marshmallows before sinking back into the warmth of her husband's arms.

The scene shifted, and Jaime and Steve were much older, with gray hair and spectacles, and they sat cozily together as they watched their grandchildren hang ornaments on the tree.

Jaime and Steve both sighed contentedly in their sleep, savoring memories both old and new.

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