Rapt [rapt] adj.

1. Deeply absorbed; engrossed

I think I've managed to memorize every single one of your facial expressions - every nuance, every little crease in your forehead and slant of your mouth - over the course of our friendship. Sure, I can be oblivious at times, but whenever I see your face (whenever it isn't behind a camera or pressed to a computer screen) I can confidently identify when you're worried, stressed, or excited. I also know when you're not present.

You're physically across the dance floor, gently swaying with your date in time to the soft music. Your eyes, though, are locked with mine. Even with the ballroom's intimately dim lighting, we both seemed to be mutually trapped in each other's gaze.

Again, oblivion and I are no strangers. I can't tell you what song is playing, nor where my date is or even the color of your date's hair. I can, however, identify that look of yours. That look - the sad droop of your eyebrows, slightly parted lips, that penetrating stare and even the subtle bob of your Adam's apple - is the look of longing, and I always recognize it in you.

I'm beginning to recognize it in myself, too.

Wrapped [rapt] v.

1. To enclose, especially in paper, and fasten

"Mommy, can I open my presents now?"

"Aubrey, why don't we let Daddy open his gifts and then we can open up all the presents Santa brought you, okay?' Carly suggested sweetly. She looked to Freddie for back up, but he was already too influenced by their daughter's puppy dog eyes and adorably pout.

"Ahh, it's Christmas," he sighed while handing his daughter the closest mid-sized wrapped box. "Have at it, sweetheart."

"YAY!" the little brunette squealed as she snatched the box and began to carefully- very carefully - unwrap the box before her. She plucked the bow from the top, then gently turned the box on it's side and slowly lifted the taped-down corner of the foil wrapping paper.

Carly gave her daughter a warm smile while laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Honey, you don't have to be so cautious with the wrapping," she advised, hoping to encourage her daughter to speed up the process. They had a lot of presents to get through.

The little girl turned to her mother with skeptical eyes. "Mommy, Grandma 'Rissa says that messes on Christmas make Santa very sad and that skips the houses of careless boys and girls. I don't want to ruin next Christmas!"

Rather than respond to her Aubrey, Carly glared in Freddie's direction. She was happy to see that her husband had the decency to look ashamed by his mother's latest glimmer of insanity.

"I'll give her a call," Freddie sighed as he settled next to his wife for, what they guessed would be, a very long morning by the Christmas tree.

A/N: Just thought I'd pop in with a little Christmas cheer!

Since I typed most of this installment while holding my beautiful new daughter, who arrived three weeks ago as of tomorrow, I will dedicate this chapter to her. :o)

I hope everyone is having a happy December! Please don't hesitate to review, even if it's just to tell me how you're day is going. :oD

Hollaatchyagirl,

Phunky