Every year, I swear I'll start my Christmas Shopping in November. Every year, I wind up battling my way through insane Christmas Eve crowds. Abbie blamed only herself. She half-wished she'd stayed in uniform for this particular shopping expedition, then maybe the crazed shoppers would be more likely to mind her, instead of threatening to run her over at every second. Drawing herself up to her full five feet, Abbie lifted her chin determinedly and projected a confident, almost aggressive air, taking bold strides and swinging her arms. Weather the other shoppers in the crowded mall noticed or not or it was just her own improved self-confidence, the trick worked. She no longer felt like she was about to be trampled.

Demons? No problem. Witches? Bring them on. But give her a crowd of rabid last-minute Christmas shoppers, and she was ready to bolt.

Jenny's gift jumped out at her first. She was relieved to check her sister off the list, purchasing a set of novels by some survival expert who climbed mountains for a living. Right up Jenny's alley. Irving and Luke were next - they both got ties, boring but functional. Wendy was equally easy, the latest movie featuring Vin Diesel, her longtime celebrity crush.

Then came Crane...
It was difficult not to go overboard. Abbie had told herself she'd just get him a few little things, gifts that would remind him he wasn't as alone as he liked to think, this first Christmas away from his own time. The sale on MP3 players was her first downfall - Crane needed to catch up on two hundred and fifty years of tunes and he had to start somewhere. As she paid for the device Abbie calculated when she'd have a spare hour to copy across all the music from her computer for him.

She couldn't resist the Avengers t-shirt, though she was dubious as to if he'd actually wear it. Then came an assortment of food, mostly chocolates and the like, since the man ate like a horse. A simple silver photo frame joined her fast-growing collection - he'd spent the previous afternoon playing with the camera on the phone she'd given him shortly after arriving, and doubtless he'd eventually snapshot something he wouldn't mind framing. Then she made the mistake of heading into the bookstore.

Mistake.

She wound up discovering a package deal on classics that practically had his name written on it. Robinson Crusoe, White Fang, Macbeth, Black Beauty, The Secret Garden, Moby Dick, Treasure Island, and the Picture of Dorian Grey. The hardback collection weighed her down but she struggled back to the parking lot and loaded up her purchases, dropping in a few rolls of wrapping paper atop the bags.
Sitting that evening wrapping gifts, Abbie recalled Christmases she'd spent as a child, putting out milk and cookies for Santa and getting up with dawn to race down to the Christmas tree. There had been a few foster homes that she and Jenny had stayed at that had been okay. There were even a few Christmases that contained memories of her mother.

Looking at the neatly stacked pyramid of presents, Abbie was astounded to find herself blinking back tears. That childhood was so far behind her, and it seemed a crazy thing to miss, given that her current profession featured frequent battles against the forces of darkness. There was so much more to be concerned over than missing her mother. But there it was...

The knock on the door made her jump. She scrambled to her feet to open it, composing herself so that whomever it was wouldn't realize she'd been crying over her lost childhood. Abbie was only half surprised to find a familiar tall figure on the other side.

"Miss Mills, is it a wise course of action to answer your door without first ascertaining whom your caller is?" Frowned Ichabod, looking down his long nose at her with something between admonishment and concern. The temperature had dropped enough that his breath steamed with each exhale.

Abbie rolled her eyes. "Come in, please." She pushed the door open properly, choosing not to respond to his rebuke. "Did you walk all the way here?"

"It isn't so far." He dismissed the walk of several miles as he stepped inside. "What is this?" He plucked a piece of scotch tape from her arm. She felt the brief moment of contact through two layers of fabric.

Breathe, woman. You're acting like a teenager with a crush.

"Sticky tape, I've been present-wrapping. Though I risked getting trampled in the last-minute crowds to do it." Abbie grumbled.

Crane eyed the present pile with a raised brow. "I hope none of those are for me-" He began to protest but Abbie waved his concerns away. "Gotta have something to fill that stocking with, it's not just to look pretty, you know."

"But I did not purchase as-"

"Crane! Chill out. I didn't get you presents to guilt you to buy me some in return. That's not how it has to work in this day and age."

She could tell by the stubborn set of his chin and the way he held his hands out to the side he was trying to come up with a convincing argument, and all at once she was overcome with affection for him, silly, chivalrous great ox that he was. She tucked her arm through his and pulled him over to the couch - perhaps letting her shoulder bump against the middle of his upper arm for a moment longer than was called for.

"Stop worrying about it, Crane. I take it there's no emergency demanding our immediate attention - demon hoard running rampant through Carols by Candlelight, or Godzilla rampaging through the city?"

It took him a moment to find his tongue. "No, Lieutenant. I simply... well. I wished for some company." Abbie hated how her heart leaped at the statement, how the hope rose in her.

He doesn't mean anything by that. Anything more than the fact that you are both witnesses.
But she wanted it to mean more. "Come on. We're going to watch a Christmas movie. Since we're on our own, we can at least watch other people enjoying the holiday season."

"Sounds agreeable." Ichabod leaned back against the couch cushions, stretching out his lanky frame. It made Abbie somewhat nervous, it was so odd to have him relaxed, instead of tensely prepared for whatever monster was bearing down upon them. She jumped up, reaching for the empty coffee mug nearby. "Do you want popcorn?"

He looked back at her with a hopeful expression, the one Abbie translated as his 'Hell yes, I'm just too proud to ask you to make it for me and I don't trust the microwave to make it myself..." look.

It was almost enough, with the smell of fresh coffee and buttered popcorn in the air, to forget the dangers of the world they were trying to save. Enough to sit side-by-side, close enough that Abbie could feel the faint vibration of the couch each time Ichabod laughed. Though a few of the jokes went over his head, he seemed to find the movie enjoyable. She noticed him stiffen a little at the wedding scene at the beginning. "You okay?"

He didn't answer right away, his fingers flexing the way he did when he was uncomfortable, then cleared his throat. "Yes. That actress is the same as from Pirates of the Caribbean, is she not?"

"Yep. Kiera Knightly, she's been in heaps." Abbie wasn't entirely certain his awkward moment had been about placing a familiar face, but she let it go. They continued discussing the unfolding stories as the popcorn sank lower in the bowl.

"Ah, that is clever writing. The pair saying the same thing in the different languages."

"Yeah, they're my favourite couple. This two though, I don't get. I never have understood why anyone would want to sleep with their boss. Besides, she's not even very attractive."

"Mm. Her eyes are too far apart."

"Hmph, so are her legs." (Abbie enjoyed the way Ichabod turned purple at that statement.) It was soon his turn to make her feel uncomfortable, though.

"What, exactly is it about a British accent these American girls are finding so attractive?"

Oh crap. Come up with something fast. "I suppose it's the novelty. The excitement factor, you know?"

Oops. The way his blue eyes narrowed upon her speculatively made her think yes, he did know. She breathed a sigh of relief when he turned his attention back to the screen, but she did notice his fingers drum thoughtfully on the arm of the couch.

"Did you enjoy that one?" Abbie asked as the credits began to roll. Ichabod, his head turned towards the window, nodded. "Deeply so, though certain parts were a little troubling. Abbie-" He rose, moved towards the window, tone distracted, then extended a hand to her. "Look."

Abbie let him draw her close, and it took her several moments to focus on the view outside, since she became hyper-alert of Ichabod's proximity, the long lines of his arm and chest just a hairsbreadth away, though apart from their hands they weren't actually touching. Then she became aware of the silence from outside, and she realized why. "Oh..."

Snowflakes drifted gently down, a light layer already covering most of the sidewalk outside. The street lights cast cheery glows over the blanket of white, and it was late enough that no cars spoiled the pristine scene.

"It's beautiful." The simple sight of a white Christmas filled Abbie with the sort of peace she had lost track of years ago. At her elbow Ichabod made a soft noise of agreement, and when his arm came around her shoulders, it felt just as natural as the scene outside.

A/N - Love Actually has been a Christmas Eve tradition in my household for the past decade, but, I don't claim the idea of Abbie and Ichabod watching it as my own. I saw a great, funny sketch of them doing just that on the SH Tumblr and couldn't resist including it here!

You guys, by the way, ROCK, your reviews continue to make my day. Several of you mentioned that you enjoyed the horse details in the last chapter and in answer to a few who asked about my equine knowledge, no, I did no research, I am as nutty about horses as I am the rest of the animal kingdom which is to say... lots. Indeed that's part of my screen name. Brumbies are the wild horse of my country and have a spiritual meaning for me :)