Carol-a festive song, generally religious but not necessarily connected with church worship, and often with a dance-like or popular character

The holidays were equal parts awkward and easy, depending on how I was feeling at the time. Hotch and Haley still hadn't reconciled, so he would only get to see Jack for a few hours on Christmas day and didn't really have any other family besides his wife and son. For my own family, I got a card in the mail from John and Kat, nothing from Scott and Stephen, and a letter from Alan saying he would be in town by New Year's and that he wanted to talk. I wasn't holding my breath for it.

I had been left in a present quandary, namely concerning my new guardian. Like me, Hotch wanted what was impossible to give—his family back—so I spent a lot of time thinking about what I could give him to thank him for everything he'd done for me. And then go through the same dilemma for Reid and Garcia. And I had until the BAU Christmas party to figure it out.

I had known about the party for years before, but because Dad had never gone, naturally, I hadn't either. From what I understood, there had always been some sort of holiday get together for all the BAU teams and the other agents who worked with them, but it wasn't until Garcia was hired that it really took off. With her influence, decorations doubled, invitations were more festive, white elephant gifts were added, and no one was allowed to get away without at least one kiss under the mistletoe.

Family members were invited and Garcia was bound and determined that I would be going this year. She was mostly recovered from her shooting, with the added benefit of flirting with Kevin Lynch. All I knew was that he had become involved in the investigation and thought that Garcia hung the cyberspace moon. I thought he was adorable.

But that still didn't help me with my gifts.

"Why not a tie?" Michael suggested while we were out shopping. I had dragged him along as a male opinion.

"Everyone probably gets him ties," I dismissed.

"And all these gifts are getting opened at the party?" he asked, browsing around the secondhand store where we had started.

"No," I answered. "Only the gag gifts between all the agents get opened then. The other gifts just get sent home with people."

"So, we're still looking for something personal, meaningful, and cheap enough that you don't need to access your bank accounts since Garcia monitors them?" Michael summarized.

"Basically," I replied. "And we only have another hour before I'm meeting Reid. He thinks he can get me a job."

"How about the toy box over there for Garcia?" Michael pointed out. "Find something geeky or retro for her to put in her office."

I looked where he directed then whipped back to kiss him on the cheek.

"Genius."

I knew Michael was blushing as I walked away, and I wasn't honestly sure why I had done that. I wasn't looking for another boyfriend, and I was fairly certain I wasn't looking to date Michael. I was definitely sure I didn't want to lose his friendship. Maybe I was just clinging to the people I still had around me while so many others were out of my life. Good God, I sound like Reid.

The toy bin in the store was about two thirds full with a hodge podge of variety. I dug around for a few minutes before coming up with some possibilities: a stuffed cat that looked like Hannah, a Power Rangers figurine, and a Disney Belle doll. After a moment of thought, I went with the Power Rangers toy. It was the robot Alpha who always worked in the Command Center, much like a technical analyst. I smirked as I kept it in my hand. One down, two to go. I looked back at Michael who was browsing through the books. I needed to find something special for him, too.

I turned back to the toy bin, knowing that Michael would object to anything costly for himself. After some thorough digging, I found some old Hot Wheels sports cars that I thought he could put in his work space at the auto shop. On my way to the cashier line, I spotted a rack of scarves and hats.

With chess pretty much out of the picture for me, Reid and I still spent time together, mostly watching classic Doctor Who in between the newer series of episodes. We already had it planned to watch the upcoming Christmas special together. But where the most recent Doctor, David Tennant, was my favorite, Reid's was Tom Baker, the Fourth Doctor, who was iconic for wearing a long, striped scarf. None of the available scarves were striped, but one was a lovely shade of purple that I thought he would like.

I felt extremely successful as I paid cash for my loot, hiding the Hot Wheels from Michael. Michael and I said good bye; he drove off while I walked the two blocks down to the bookstore Reid had told me about. It was early enough in December that stores were still advertising for seasonal help. And I really wanted some cash in my pockets as well as something else to do with my time.

Reid was waiting for me outside with a travel cup of coffee in his hand. The bookstore was next door to the café he had taken me to last year, which seemed a lifetime ago.

"Hi, Spencer," I greeted with a smile. "Sorry if you were waiting long."

"Not at all," he assured me. "Shopping for presents?" he asked.

I told him what I had gotten for Michael and Garcia, earning a smile from him when he heard what I had picked for Garcia. Then Reid gestured me into the store, Monarch Books, the telltale bell dinging our entrance. There were about a dozen people inside shopping or browsing the shelves and tables. The store was about the size of Dad's apartment, a counter and cashier toward the front, round tables in the center displaying special offers and then tall book shelves set up against the walls. I inhaled the scents of paper, glue, cinnamon, and pine. Evergreen boughs were decorating the shelves, complete with glass ornaments.

"Spencer!"

Reid and I turned toward the man walking over to us. He was around my father's age, maybe a little older, with graying hair, large glasses, and a pleasantly broad and friendly face. He was short, only a few inches taller than I was, and on the rounder side, dressed in corduroy pants, a button down shirt, and a jacket. Even my growing paranoid instincts were telling me this was a man you could trust.

Reid's easy manner with him only confirmed that.

"Colin, it's good to see you."

I suppressed a grin when Reid had to bend forward slightly to shake his hand.

"It's been too damn long, boy," Colin admonished him. "I have a wonderful edition of William Blake's Songs of Innocence and Experience I've been wanting to show you. But that will wait until you've introduced this lovely young lady to me."

At that reminder, Reid waved me forward. "Right, Colin Morris, this is Rachel Gideon, my…co-worker's daughter. I thought she might be a good fit here for some part time work."

I didn't react when Reid hesitated about what to call my father, but reached out to shake Colin's hand when the man offered. I met his gaze as he examined me closely.

"Any friend of Spencer's is sure to be fond of books," Colin commented.

"Actually, I've loved reading since before I met him," I corrected politely.

"And he's a fairly accurate judge of character," Colin went on. "All that profiler training, I'm sure. You know, he warned me about an employee once, turns out the guy was stealing from the till."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that, so I gestured to the shelved books. "Are you organized by the Dewey Decimal system? It looks like it, but I can't tell completely without getting closer."

Colin's gaze sharpened, flicked up to Reid's bemused face, and then back to mine. "My late wife who helped me set up twenty years ago was a librarian. Very good." He waited a beat more before he continued. "Part time work, is it? After school and weekends, I'm guessing."

"Yes, sir," I answered. "I don't know how to work a cash register, but I know how to organize and keep things neat."

"That will come," Colin told me. He looked again at Reid. "Well, Spencer has never steered me wrong before, so we'll go through the holiday season, say end of January, and then see if it's working out. I pay eight fifty an hour for the first four months, then bump it up to nine for those that deserve it. Sound fair?"

"Sounds fair," I agreed.

We shook hands and a grin spread out on Colin's face. "Wonderful. Come back tomorrow and we'll handle the paperwork, you can start then, too."

I grinned back. "Fabulous, thank you very much." I looked up at Reid. "Thanks, Spencer."

"No problem, Rachel. Colin didn't even tell you perks yet."

I looked back at my new boss. Colin winked at me. "Fifteen percent discount here and for the Crown Cafe next door for employees, and ten percent for our very loyal and frequent customers." He winked. "We call it the Royal Treatment."

"Colin's mother owns the café," Reid explained.

No wonder Reid always went to this café when he could.

Colin encouraged me to look around and get a lay of the land while he and Reid looked at that book of poetry. Luckily, the shop was large enough that it didn't feel cramped but not so large that I couldn't see everything from any part. It would be easy to find my way around. While I was looking, I picked up some picture books for Jack and a book on Broadway musicals for Haley.

As I was driving back to Hotch's house, I kept thinking about what I could get him as the last person I needed to shop for. Not bad for a single day of shopping, but Hotch was my most important gift to buy. We were still feeling our way into whatever relationship we had between my own paternal issues and his familial ones. I didn't want a replacement for Dad and Hotch knew it, just as I wasn't just a fill in for Haley and Jack. I just couldn't think of anything that would say all that I wanted to say to him.

And unfortunately, I still didn't have an idea before the holiday party. There was still a week and a half before Christmas and I wouldn't have been giving Hotch his gift then anyway, but I was getting a little frantic. Money wasn't an issue anymore; I had my first paycheck from working at Monarch with another one due soon.

But I tried to enjoy the party. Someone—probably Garcia—had strung fairy lights around the railings of the bull pen in addition to the paper decorations of stars and Christmas trees hung on the walls. There was even a row of stockings along one cubicle boundary that had a name for everyone who worked on the floor. One table was set up with drinks like sodas, water, coffee, punch and eggnog, another had finger foods and snacks. All the white elephant gifts were on the table in the conference room, ready to be passed out. And of course there was a sprig of mistletoe right at the bottom of the staircase.

Mostly, it was agents with their significant others, a handful of kids, and some agents from the other departments. Apparently, due to Garcia's machinations, the BAU party was known to be the best. Everyone was in holiday colors, like Hotch's red tie, Reid's green vest, and Garcia's sweater with the dancing elves on it. For myself, I had put on some black jeans and a deep V-neck crimson shirt with a white, lacy camisole underneath.

For the most part, no one seemed to pay me any special attention, but then it seemed like word got out about whose daughter I was. I had pretty much stayed close just the team when I could, but I really noticed what was going on when I was getting a refill on my punch.

"Gideon's daughter, her mother was murdered."

"Can't say I'm surprised he left and all."

"Poor girl."

It wasn't anything I hadn't heard before, or didn't think myself come to that, but I didn't want people looking at me like that. I still got enough of that at school. Garcia was off with Kevin Lynch, Hotch was talking with JJ about something, and Reid was doing magic tricks for the handful of kids that were there. I looked around for a place to hide away for a few minutes and hurried up the stairs. Hotch's office was dark and I was able to slip in without anyone noticing.

At least, I thought I had gone unnoticed, proven wrong when someone opened the door five minutes later. I looked up from my chair and saw David Rossi enter the office, a glass of something in his hand and shut the door behind him.

"They certainly party harder than when I was here," he remarked, taking the seat next to me.

He didn't seem concerned when I didn't answer him. In the couple of months since he had been back on the team, I still didn't know what to make of him. I had heard from Reid some of the tactics he took in the field with witnesses and the others on the team.

As the silence drew on, I realized that he was waiting me out, a ploy I remembered from Dad. And damn it, it was working.

"Did you want something?" I asked.

Rossi shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "I was just looking to escape for a bit."

"You have your own office," I pointed out.

I caught his measuring glance as it swept over me, resisting the urge to flinch. He was good, but I'd faced worse, my father and the serial killer who had murdered my mother included.

"Speaking of my office," Rossi said after awhile. "I've been meaning to give this to you."

The plaque had been hidden by his leg while he sat. When he handed it to me, I traced the indented name. Jason Gideon.

"I imagine it must be hard to see someone else in your dad's office."

It was my turn to shrug. "I was only ever in there one time. And that was once too many for his liking."

Rossi nodded his understanding. "Right. Separation of work and family, how could I forget?" he asked rhetorically.

"Whatever," I muttered, sick to death of that bit of hypocrisy.

"You know, your father and I may never have gotten along, but it was a valid point."

I looked him squarely in the eyes. "And what about running off, claiming it was for my own good? Is that valid?"

Of course the BAU agent held my gaze steadily even as I was almost glaring at him. "No," he answered calmly. "And if I should ever meet up with your father again, believe me, I will make that point clear to him. Now, he'll probably tell me that I have no right to say anything because I'm not a father."

I snorted. That sounded like exactly what Dad would say.

"But then, your father was always good for an argument," Rossi continued. "Seems like that was most of what we did."

"Yeah, I heard," I cut him off wearily. "Look, seriously, you don't have to do this."

"Do what?"

"Pretend to be nice to me, talk to me, keep me company, whatever you're doing right now."

Rossi pursed his lips. "Is that what you think I'm doing? Pretending?"

"Why else would you be here?" I asked. "If you wanted to be alone, you have your own office. If you wanted to be with people, there's the party. People you should be getting to know better anyway."

"You think I should be getting to know them better," Rossi repeated back at me.

I huffed out a breath. "Yes. It's important." He stared at me until I continued. "First of all, you're on the team now. I know that's not how it was done in the good ol' days, but that's what it is now. You guys see horrific things everyday, you analyze it, you chase it, you confront it. And I've seen what that does to people, not just my father. Sure, you're on the team, but there's a difference between working on a team and working with a team."

"And second?"

I had to look away while I answered him. "Spencer, Hotch, Garcia, the whole team? They're amazing, remarkable people and they're all I have right now." I was proud that my voice caught only a little bit. "And I don't want to see any of them get hurt because you don't know how to trust them. My dad? He didn't just shut me out, he shut out the whole team. So if you're really so much different from him, prove it."

I got up and made my way to the door, wanting to escape this maddening man and his assessing gaze. I was kind of embarrassed that he had gotten me to say all those things, but I guess that's just proof as to how good he is as an agent.

"Wait up, kiddo."

Crap, but Mom had raised me with manners. I hesitated at the door as Rossi joined me and gestured me out the door, half bowing as he did so.

"Come on," he said. "I'll play nicely with the others as long as you keep me company."

My mouth must have dropped open, and if it didn't, it certainly did after what Rossi said next.

"And as long as you're with me, all the others will be gossiping about me instead of you."

It shouldn't have surprised me that an agent like Rossi knew what had driven me away from the party, but I was surprised that he commented on it and offered a solution. Namely, setting himself up as the target so that I could fade into the background.

"You are really confusing," I said honestly.

Rossi smirked at me, and I no longer wondered how he had gotten three women to marry him.

"That's half the fun, kiddo."

By then, we were at the bottom of the stairs and came to an abrupt halt when I noticed that at least half the agents in the room were staring at us in disbelief. I froze, reminded once again how much I liked being in the band instead of center stage.

But Rossi just took it all in stride, smirked at the room at large, and then leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. To my absolute shock, he just glanced up above our heads.

"Mistletoe," Rossi explained. "But I don't want Hotch or Morgan coming after me for inappropriately kissing a minor."

"Right, of course," I recovered. "Especially with how protective they are with me on top of that."

The rest of the party was much better. True to his word, Rossi dragged me along as he mingled so that all attention was on him, not me. Of course, our partnership itself caused a stir and within sixty seconds, Hotch, Morgan, and Garcia all circled around to check in on me and causally interrogate Rossi. They tried to get him to admit what he was up to, or what he was up to concerning me. Rossi just smiled and redirected their inquiries. No one was fooled, but the game was still played.

I went home with Hotch, feeling oddly more content with my life and with a small stack of presents from people to open for Christmas. I was on winter break a few days later, filling the time with more hours at the bookshop, hanging out with Michael, and starting college researching at Hotch's suggestion.

For Christmas itself, Hotch and I waited until Jack was over for a few hours to open our gifts. Jack opened toys and games from the BAU crowd and from Hotch, but he proudly declared that he would read the books I had given him that night before bed. For gifts, Jack had made Christmas ornaments in school and had made one each for Haley, Hotch, and myself. I don't know what Haley's looked like, but Hotch's was cardboard circle, painted red with a white star in the middle. Mine was a popsicle stick painted silver with black circles which Jack told me was supposed to by my flute. I gave Jack a great big kiss.

My own gifts started with The Phantom of the Opera on DVD from Haley. Garcia had bought me a vegetarian cooking book along with a pair of pajamas, green with pink tea pots and cupcakes. Emily and Morgan had bought me a $100 gift card to iTunes which had me dreaming of my future purchases. From Reid, I opened a set of wind chimes the length of my forearm. His detailed note explained to me that the tones from the chimes were meant to help calm my anxiety and center my thoughts.

It wasn't until Jack was playing with his new action figures, Hotch and I exchanged the gifts we had gotten each other. Judging from the slightly nervous expression on his face, Hotch had struggled over his gift as much as I had. He insisted that I open mine first. I unwrapped a spiral bound notebook with its hard covers patterned with printed music. There was also an elegant silver pen with a metal nub with a few tubes of different colored ink.

"I thought that since you'll be on your own so much, you might need a place to work out your thoughts," Hotch explained. "You've had a lot happen to you in the last year, writing out what you're feeling will help you process it."

I ran my fingers over the cover and felt the slight indentations of the music. I looked up to meet Hotch's eyes, fighting back tears.

"Thanks, Hotch. This is really special."

When I handed Hotch the wrapped package that was his gift, he frowned at me.

"Rachel, I hope you didn't spend too much on this," he said.

I shrugged. It was rather large, about the size of two open textbooks and about the same weight. "Just open it."

What Hotch found as he ripped the wrapping paper away was a set of picture frames all connected together, ten of them all told. I had found it when I went back to the thrift store, the black metal of the frames a little tarnished. I had spent an hour cleaning and polishing it.

"It's for pictures of Jack," I told him. "So you can still see your son everyday and so much better than a single photo."

Hotch sat in stunned silence for a moment before he reached out and pulled me into a tight hug.

"Thank you."

Within seconds, Hotch had his camera out and was snapping pictures of Jack as he played with his new toys. He even convinced me to sit with Jack in my lap and got some posed shots of the two of us as well as others when I got on the floor to play with the toddler. Later, I snagged the camera away and took my own shots of him and Jack together.

That night, I was over at Reid's apartment, both of us armed with tea and shortbread cookies, watching Doctor Who's Christmas special The Runaway Bride.

The next day, I found a package for me at the front door without a return address. Paranoid as I was, I called Hotch to check it out before opening it. I felt validated when Hotch approached it with caution as well. I opened it while he was still there, just in case, and found two objects: a Mardi Gras mask with green and purple feathers and jewels, and a tree ornament shaped like a red cardinal. It didn't take either of us long to guess who had sent them.

"Rachel?" Hotch asked, leaving his question open ended, but I could guess what he wanted to say. Are you okay? How do you feel? Do you want me to take care of it? What do you want to do?

I wanted to throw them out, not feeling charitable toward guilt gifts. But at least they were proof that Dad was alive and still remembered I existed. In the end, I kept them in the box and hid it away in the back of my closet. Out of sight, out of mind.

It wasn't perfect, of course it wasn't. I missed the cinnamon rolls Mom would make Christmas mornings, and really, I just missed Mom. I missed Dad for all I was still pissed off at him. But I wasn't going to throw away my other gifts just because they weren't exactly what I wanted. I had a family, I reminded myself, unconventional and unofficial as it was.

Notes:

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

I meant to get this chapter out yesterday, but I was a little bit occupied. While I'm at it, next week's chapter might also be a few days late (probably Wednesday) as I'll be out of town to visit my sisters. After that, there will be another break while I work on completing the rest of Mvt III.

I'll admit, it took me a long time to figure out presents for this chapter. Especially those between Rachel and Hotch. I didn't want to be too sappy as that's not in character for either of them, but I thought it needed to be personal and meaningful. I hope I pulled that off.

I kind of have this image in my head of Rachel walking away and Rossi watching her and shaking his head in bemusement/amazement. I think Rachel is going to be the type of person he really doesn't expect from Gideon's daughter and that he's going to genuinely like her and look out for her for her own sake. Now, just like with Hotch, Rossi is absolutely not going to become Rachel's new father (more like both of them are vague father-like figures) and is probably closer to that cool uncle type that tells you how to manipulate your parents. Any way, that's what I'm going for.

I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday no matter of company, location, or traditions (the old and the new). Thank you all for reading and supporting me in this endeavor. That is truly a gift.

Cantoris