Sunbeams streamed into Morse's bedroom coaxing him out of a deep sleep. He threw off the covers and hastily threw on his dressing gown. Outside, people were bustling about. He ran outside and cried, "what day is it?"

"Morse?" None other than WPC Tracy Hundley responded. Morse never knew she was his neighbour! "Why, it's Christmas day, sir!"

"Happy Christmas, Hundley!" He thrust a wad of cash into her hands. "A goose! No, Val will have already taken care of that… But do you know the pastry shoppe on the high? The one with the massive gingerbread house in the window?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go buy the gingerbread house and have it delivered to Sergeant Lewis' home! The rest of the money goes to the police benevolent fund. Go, get a move on, young lady!" A very confused Hundley hustled along to complete her mission. Morse was confident that she would get it right, though, because Tracy Hundley was very particular and a stickler for details.

Morse ran back into his home to shower and shave, before presenting himself on his sister's doorstep.

Joyce's modest family took pity upon the man that Morse had become, and though it was uncomfortable at times, there was true kindness in their hearts. After an afternoon of food, drink and awkward conversation, Morse rose and went to the piano. "Joyce, can you still play?"

She smiled and rose to join him. Morse's gift to them was his voice; he led them in a round of carolling, then Morse's nephew suggested some more secular holiday tunes. Morse bristled at first, but he came around. Music- singing in a choir- had always been Morse's way of socializing, and this time his melodic voice eased the way for him to mend his familial relationships. Sitting there around the piano, he rediscovered the ability to harmonize with others.

He finally took his leave of Joyce and her family. "Come again soon, brother."

"I promise, Joyce."

"I hope I'm not too late!" exclaimed Morse with glee when a surprised Sergeant Lewis opened his front door. Lewis let him into his front room where his family- wife, kids, and a bunch of those relations that he was always prattling on about- were merrily dismantling a massive gingerbread house.

"This arrived on our doorstep today. Don't know where it came from. We've been admiring it all day and finally decided it was time to have at it. It seems a shame to eat it, but best to do it while it's fresh, I guess. You can't take it with you, you know?"

"Indeed, Lewis."

Mrs. Lewis came to greet her husband's governor with a mug of mulled cider. "Make yourself at home, Morse!" Morse helped himself to a frosted piece of roof and sat in an armchair by the fire. He laughed as Lewis dunked a piece of gingerbread into his mug before filling his gob.

"What?" Lewis asked.

"There's cider dribbling down your chin, Lewis. It's quite undignified."

"Oh, sorry, sir." Lewis was not aware the Morse was teasing him, so Morse responded by dunking his own bit of gingerbread and following suit.

Popping filled the air as the younger Lewises were tugging apart their Christmas crackers. Mrs. Lewis appeared to Morse once more and handed him a cracker.

"Go ahead, pull."

"I think, if you don't mind, kind lady, that I shall share this with another lonely soul who might appreciate it more. I must take my leave of you soon, for I have one more visit to make tonight."

"Of course! Send our best Christmas greetings. Would you like to bring your friend something to eat? I can fix a plate." Valerie Lewis suspected that there was no 'friend' and the plate was meant to be for him. But there was indeed someone else Morse had to see.

"No, that's all right." He stood up to leave. "Thank you, though, dear Val. Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year, Lewises!"

Late on Christmas Day, Morse found himself back where we began this Christmas odyssey: the mortuary. "Somehow I knew I would find you here, Doctor."

Dr Hobson looked up from the report she was typing. "Happy Christmas, Inspector." She said in a perfunctory tone.

Morse considered Hobson. Might this independent career woman one day settle down with co-dependent family-man Lewis? Surely it had all been a dream anyway, and Val Lewis- fit as a fiddle- would outlive them all! But still, the idea of Hobson and Lewis rescuing each other in their later years intrigued him, the way he felt when he had perceived the first hint at solving a mystery. It seemed implausible at first, but maybe- just maybe- he ought to grease the wheels of fate just in case.

"Here, give me a hand with this?" Morse offered her one end of his Christmas cracker, consciously passing the baton as it were, from Val to Laura. She gave him a sceptical smile, unsure of where the cracker came from. She knew it was unlike Morse to bear such a frivolous gift.

As if reading her mind, Morse responded. "It's from the Lewises. I had just stopped by for a bit. He's a good man, Robbie Lewis. He'll make inspector soon; I'm sure of it."

Hobson nodded. "He's one of the best." She gave the cracker a fierce twist and apart it came. She bent down to collect the scrap of paper that fell out. She read it silently and looked up with a confused expression on her face.

"Well, what does it say? Bad pun?" Morse asked.

"I think it's a riddle. 'What do you give a new friend with a booming headache?'"

"I don't know, what?"

"Answer: 'a bag of kiwi fruit.'" She paused. "If that's supposed to mean something, I'm afraid I don't get it." Hobson said.

"That makes no bloody sense, now does it? Sod it all. Come on, Doctor, let's just find somewhere we can chat over some egg nog."

"Egg nog is awful decadent stuff, Morse."

"Fine, mulled wine for you then. And since you're so concerned about what I clog my arteries with, you can share with me your thoughts on organ donation, perhaps?"

"You want to discuss organ donation? At Christmas?"

"Indeed. You see, Doctor Hobson, I've been thinking about the future…"

Author Note: Merry Christmas! I hesitated to write this because it's been done so many times before, but sometimes you just have to say to yourself, 'if the Muppets can do it, why can't I?' So I started to scribble, and once I realized that Thursday was Fezziwig, I knew there was no turning back. That part was probably better in my head than it came out in words because I don't have a good grasp on writing Endeavour. But in any case, I really had too much fun writing this. Thank you for reading! Best wishes for the New Year!