thankies for the reviews, once again! sorry for this being so late. my family had to be hosts for relatives that came for dinner. couldn't be on computer for the whole day.
here's the twelfth day, guys! (sorry for not being more interesting in this author's note. it's just that it's 4 AM right now.)
December 24th
Ah. Christmas Eve. Perhaps the most suspense-ridden day of the whole year. Everyone sitting by the tree, hands forcefully clamped together to stop themselves from snatching their presents. Eyes restless, feet jittery. Just waiting, waiting for midnight.
Calleigh didn't have the patience to wait until the next day, so she brought her boxed present with her to work. She wanted to see his face right after he opened it. Partly because her gift was brilliant, and the other part because if he had the urge to give her a kiss, it'd work out best if she was there.
The others could wait until tomorrow, and since she'd spent all night wrapping his gift that she didn't get to the other presents, they had no choice anyway.
As she glimpsed through every glass wall in the lab to look for him she hoped her present would partially make up for all the time, money, and thought he'd spent on his. She never could get over how caring he was.
She found him in the layout room, with his elbows on the table looking over what was probably evidence. How could he think of murder on Christmas Eve? But as she walked around to see over his shoulder – his back was facing the door – she realized it wasn't a case he was staring at. He noticed her just then.
"Hey! Well… I guess the element of surprise is gone." She stared a gawked at him, unable to do anything.
"… on the plus side, I don't need to wrap them." He smiled, encouraging her to speak before he got worried.
Calleigh finally regained her composure. "This is my present, isn't it? For the twelfth and last day?"
Ryan nodded, then said, "Correctamundo. I didn't expect you to be here; you were supposed to be in your lab, playing with guns, or in the break room, anywhere but here."
She could only shrug. "I wanted to bring you your present early. It's a good thing I'm not as predictable as you made me believe I was."
"So how about you go first? Sorry; I didn't get to wrap them. I got sidetracked." He flashed her a picture perfect grin.
He stood aside to give her a closer look. There were two different presents – a painting and a book. "Wait. Let me guess. Twelve drummers drumming?"
"You got it. The painting's by Delilah Smith, and the novel is a mystery novel, by Diana Deverell. Sorry for the lack of creativity. This was around the time when my creativity juices dried out. So I just ended up Google-ing 'Twelve drummers drumming'.
"That's all right. This painting's gorgeous and I've been looking around for a new book to read. Thank you." She smiled, and he reciprocated.
"Oh. Today's the twelfth day, Cal. Do you want to sing it?"
Pretty sure she remembered the tune – having heard him sing it so many times – he listened intently as she sang to him for the first time.
On the twelfth day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
Twelve drummers drumming
Her singing voice was angelic. There was no other word for it. Her adorable Southern accent disappeared when she sang, replaced by strong vocals that did not need practice. Ryan loved it.
"Anybody ever tell you you've got an amazing voice? That was great!"
Calleigh blushed. "No, but that's only because I rarely sing to anyone. You should feel lucky, Wolfe. Open yours now."
She pushed the wrapped box across the table. He took it and shook it close to his ear, trying to listen and guess what it was.
"You'll never figure it out while it's wrapped. Trust me. Just open it! I'm excited to see your reaction."
Ryan complied, and ripped the Christmas wrapper off. He opened the box, and his face twisted into an expression Calleigh didn't think was possible. Suddenly she grew worried that he wouldn't think it was as brilliant as she thought it was.
"Calleigh… what is this?" He took it out of the box and held it up to get the full view. She could tell he felt stupid for unfolding it. He set it down just as quickly as he had held it up.
It was a heavy knitted sweater. With the poor mixture of colors, Ryan couldn't distinguish the main color of the sweater. In the middle was Santa Claus; actually, the only reason he knew it was the big guy was because it said HO! HO! HO! in the speech bubble. But he looked like a blob. His face was distorted – the eyes blended with the nose and he couldn't even find the mouth – and his red suit had random splashes of purple. Around Santa were gifts in deformed sizes. Encircling the gifts were what Ryan would assume to be Christmas trees (each tree was a different color). Basically, it was a swirl of clashing colors and disfigured pictures.
"I remember you telling us once that you because you were an only child, and your extended family was fairly small, that you never got one of those grandmothers or aunts who tried knitting as a hobby and made you a horrendous sweater. Now you can suffer along with us with your very own ugly sweater."
"But… why would you pick these colors? They hurt my eyes, and I'm not even looking at it anymore."
She gasped playfully. "You think I made this for you? Do you think I'm sucky at knitting?"
"No, of course not. It's just… Can I be honest with you?"
"Certainly. What good's any relationship without honesty?"
"Calleigh… this is the ugliest sweater I've ever seen in my life. It's…it's hideous! How did you manage to find this?"
She shook her shoulders. "Skills."
"Finding this is not considered a skill."
"Oh, thanks. You seem to have used up all your creativity but you don't have a problem making fun of me."
"Yes, but this uses a different part of my brain. Creativity is different from wit. Anybody can be creative. Wit has to be acquired."
"Still waiting for that wit to come, huh? You can never trust snail mail."
He narrowed his eyes as she smirked. "Cute. That's real cute."
"So what do you think?"
"Oddly enough, as repulsive as it is, I don't hate it."
"Are you going to wear it?"
"Don't push it."
Calleigh laughed. As he walked over to give her a kiss she stopped him. "Wait. There's another gift in there."
Ryan looked through the tissue paper in the box and revealed a silver Rolex. He held it delicately and admired it in the light.
"I noticed that watch tan on your right wrist one day. And when I saw it again the next day I knew you couldn't have just forgotten your watch two days in a row. So, with my exceptional skills, I deduced that your watch was probably broken. Look on the back. It's inscribed."
He obeyed her and flipped the watch. Silently he read the engraved message and gave a short chuckle. "Now you can spend all your time with me. Love, Calleigh. Seriously, Cal? That sounds like something I would say."
"Great minds think alike."
"Got that right. You know you didn't need to get me anything."
"And you didn't have to either. You could have taught me the song without getting me all those gifts. I wanted to get them for you. Especially the sweater."
"Well, thank you, Cal. You're really brave, walking to the cashier with this thing. Takes some stones."
"Or maybe I just really like the person I planned on giving it to."
This time, when he got closer, she didn't stop him. He kissed her softly, and when their lips separated he kept his forehead on hers. Both their eyes were closed.
"By the way, not to ruin the moment or anything," Calleigh whispered, "but I just felt the need to tell you that the watch was just a backup present."
"Oh, so if anybody asks, I can tell them you got me this slick watch instead of the disgusting sweater, because you don't want anybody to question your fashion sense. I get it."
"Smart cookie."
Natalia walked in, completely oblivious to Calleigh and Ryan having a cute little moment. She only noticed what she was interrupting when she looked up from her file. At that point they had already separated from their hold.
"Oh, sorry guys. I'll talk to you later, Ryan. Whoa." The sweater, sprawled on the table, caught her eye.
With her pen she pointed to it. "That yours, Ryan? Wow. That is one ugly sweater. Who'd you get it from?" She shifted her gaze from the sweater, to Ryan, and finally to Calleigh.
Ryan smirked. "You're looking at her."
He felt the corner of a book jab him in the chest.
the painting & book are real things, btw. check em out if you'd like.
leave reviews, please! epilogue will be coming shortly. :]
