A/N: Okay, first of all, I'd like to say I'm really sorry. I've had such a great response to this story, and I've left it behind. Admittedly, December was a rough month. There were a lot of problems, both internal and external, that were difficult to deal with, and that doesn't even include revision and mock exams. I didn't really feel Christmassy, and I didn't have time to write, so I didn't. To be honest, I still don't feel Christmassy, but I want to keep writing this. So, if anybody wants this, I'm going to finish the prompts, whether it's the correct season or not.
Becker was having a bad day. First of all, he'd woken up during the night, because he'd thought he'd heard something downstairs. Then, being the paranoid person he was, he'd waited up for hours, just to prove to himself that nobody was there, and ended up falling asleep on the sofa.
That must've made him very tired, because he then didn't wake up until eight. Becker wasn't normally the kind of man to sleep past six am, so he never set an alarm. He had an hour to get ready to go to work, and he'd have to fight through the traffic to get there. Deciding to skip breakfast, and have the quickest shower and shave of his life, Becker yanked on his clothes and hurried outside by twenty past.
He'd failed to look out of the window, in that time, however.
"Just what I need!" he growled, as he turned on the engine. Grabbing the can of de-icer from his car, he shook it firmly, and began the torturously slow process of de-icing his car.
After getting caught by traffic, and driving at a snail's speed most of the way, Becker managed to get into work at half past ten.
"What time d'you call this?" Lester asked sardonically, as Becker stormed through the doors. Ignoring him completely, he passed through Ops and down to the firing range.
After a laborious incursion, complete with prehistoric beavers (Becker didn't care what Temple called them, they looked like large bloody rodents to him), Becker sat in his office, starving, as he wrote up his report.
A knock on the door made him glare daggers at the person who was on the other side.
"Come in," he said shortly. He gave an inaudible, exasperated sigh, when he saw Jess come in, but perked up almost immediately, when he saw the peace offering in her hands.
"You haven't had lunch yet, have you?" she asked. Becker shook his head.
"I haven't eaten all day," he told her. She smiled brightly at him.
"Well, I got you a sandwich from Greggs, and I thought you might like a coffee as well?"
"Jess, you're brilliant," he told her, grinning, as she set the items on his desk. "Have I ever told you that?"
She laughed. "Frequently. But it doesn't hurt to keep on telling me."
"Are you staying? Because I'd like the company. I could do with some cheering up," he said, as he ripped open the sandwich package. Beaming, Jess took the chair on the opposite side of his desk, and began rambling away.
Becker had woken up feeling like a metaphorical icicle, but he knew he could always count on Jess to thaw him out.