Gillian was dozing. It was kind of early when she went to bed but she was so tired and it got dark before dinner time now, so that helped. Her breasts were still sensitive but the nausea that had haunted her for just over a month was going, gone, and aside from what felt like perpetual exhaustion, she was reaching the point where she was starting to enjoy being pregnant. She was pregnant! And it was really incredible.

Gillian stretched out a leg in the bed, getting just a little bit more comfortable, keeping her eyes closed and her body relaxed. She heard her husband come into the room softly, and figured it was his bed time now. She felt the dip of the mattress as he climbed up next to her. "Are you awake?" He barely whispered.

"Hmm," Gillian hummed. She really wasn't asleep but she wasn't entirely awake either. She figured she had been asleep before and woken naturally again a few moments ago.

"Are you warm enough?"

She only had the blanket over her stomach; her legs were bare to the air, shorts and tank top to sleep in but no socks on her feet. It was the dead of winter but she was warm. And content. "Yes," she murmured.

Cal settled on the mattress and was still. "It's nearly Christmas," he said.

"Hm?"

"And it's snowin'."

Mmmm Christmas time. Mince pies, pine tress, lights, tinsel, angels, Santas. It was Christmas tomorrow. Or now maybe? She was looking forward to Christmas this year.

Gillian shifted again, moving over the bunched blanket until she found her husband's shoulder and rested her head on it heavily, sleepily. He turned then, moving slowly and gently but dislodging her head to his arm, where he cradled her tenderly against his chest, placing a hand on the small bump that was their baby growing steadily inside her. Cal's lips pressed against her forehead, warm but dry and so gentle. Gillian smiled. She cracked her eyes open but couldn't see much. It was dark and despite the light coming in from the hallway, Cal's face was in shadow.

"Are you sleepin'?" Cal asked again, his breath cool against her face.

"Not really," Gillian admitted. She had only gone to lie down because she was tired, physically. She hadn't meant to fall asleep. Just rest for a few moments while Cal finished up with the dishes and squaring away the kitchen .

"Come on," Cal urged, lighting his fingers over her belly again, then pulling back. He withdrew his arm from beneath her head slowly and placed his other hand over hers, helping to pull her to sit. "Come and look."

Gillian let him coax her gently from the room. The hall light burned into her eyes and she instinctively placed a hand to shield until she was able to adjust. The rest of the house was dark and it was quiet and Gillian suddenly got the impression it was much later than she thought; Cal had said it was Christmas. It really couldn't be after midnight could it? Surely she hadn't slept that long. Cal led her into the living room and with her eyes still mostly closed, the first thing Gillian noticed was the smell of pine, thick in the room like it was a tangible mist she was wading through. That was Christmas, for Gillian, the scent of the tree. She insisted on a live one; she didn't even mind the needles falling and making a mess on the carpet.

Gillian could feel her husband leading her around the couch and instinctively kept her eyes closed until he stopped her and urged her to open them. The tree glowed pricks of starlight, white wishes against the dark green of shadow and tree, decorations of angels and ribbons baubles and tinsel. There was a candle burning low on the fireplace mantle, red and soft. Gillian knew there was tinsel around the room too, because she had put it there, but her gaze was, for now, on the lights. While she had decorated the tree, Cal had sorted the lights, and then she had done the rest of the room, the rest of the house really, slowly, as the twelve days of Christmas went by. And now it was Christmas in their living room.

Cal pressed a kiss against her bare shoulder and Gillian was suddenly aware of the room again, a song on the stereo, her husband's gaze on her face. She turned to him with a smile. "It's beautiful."

"Mmm," Cal agreed. And it was so nice that he wasn't arguing. That might have also been part of the reason Gillian had left the room earlier; she was too tired to fight. Cal's face was in more shadows, but the edges were outlined in the golden glow of the candle, and his eyes reflected the bright shine of the tree lights. He seemed different, in that kind of light, softer and more tender, but also stranger and harder for Gillian to know. They were silent for a moment, watching each other, probably thinking about the last year; it had been a tough one. But Christmas was literally a time for hope and they were having a baby. Everything would be different next year; they got to start again. And in a few months they were going to start telling people they were having a baby. They were going to Boston to tell Cal's daughter first.

"Come and have a look at the snow, then it's bed time," Cal slid his fingers down her bare arm to her hand and gripped it firmly.

Gillian went with him easily to the big windows in the front of the house. The curtains were pulled right back and draped in lazy loops across the panes were more golden lights. Across the street Gillian could see the blue and green outline of a Santa in the neighbour's front window; still lit up even though it seemed the occupants had gone to bed. The entire street was silent and still and as Cal pulled back the nets so they could see out properly, Gillian could see the snow coming down.

It was falling but not gathering yet and even though it was technically Christmas (probably, she still hadn't checked a clock), she doubted it would truly be a white one. But still, it was beautiful to see the dusty flakes falling silently from the sky; it gave the world an ethereal blanket. The smooth sound of a violin started and Gillian realised the music in the background was still playing; another song was starting.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas.

Gillian turned to Cal, putting her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. He adjusted his arms around her waist, hands in her lower back, fitting them together. This was their first Christmas together. Well, not together, but alone together. They had always had someone else around all the other years, whether it was Emily over at their house or they had gone to her brother's place. But this year, it was just the two of them... or the three of them really. And next year... Oh...

"Next year there'll be three of us," Cal murmured and Gillian flushed. It creeped her out and amazed her in equal amounts how he could sometimes read her mind. But also, because yes, next year, it would be three of them. There would be a little seven month old baby; their child.

"I know," Gillian whispered back, pulling him a little tighter against her.

Through the years we all will be together, if the Fates allow.

She wished they would stop fighting. Christmas was supposed to be magical. Having a baby was supposed to be wonderful. But Cal kept picking at her, kept niggling and arguing and... maybe it was completely unfair to blame him. Maybe it was her. Maybe she was far less tolerant than she used to be. Maybe the pregnancy hormones were making her crazier than she thought. Perhaps now would be a good time to just... keep an eye on herself, self police, tone it down.

From now on our troubles will be miles away.

"I love this song," Gillian said.

"Yeah," Cal agreed, either acknowledging that she did, or saying he did too. He swayed a little, side to side, rocking her gently as well as him. Gillian turned her head to rest it against his shoulder, staring out at the flakes swirling in the night sky. Cal turned his head to press his cheek against her hair and they stood for a moment together. Then Gillian shifted her mouth to press against his lips and she gave him a smile. He smiled back, his eyes bright in the candle light, the shadows of frozen water falling beside them.

"Let's go to bed," Cal suggested softly. Gillian agreed and he took her hand while he closed the curtains up again, blew out the candle, then led her from the room. They brushed teeth and got back into bed, Cal stripping down while Gillian climbed back onto the mattress. She settled against her pillow and when Cal was under the cover, he drew in close behind her. He pressed a kiss to the back of her ear, making her hum and then placing a large warm hand against her baby bump, beneath her shirt, against skin. His thumb rubbed out a pattern and she could feel the way he held his body with tension against hers.

"Merry Christmas Gillian," he murmured.

"Merry Christmas," Gillian echoed. Cal pressed another kiss against the edge of her neck but didn't turn away from her to sleep on his side of the bed, and she didn't mind. She liked him close. It would be too warm but she wasn't going to complain. She felt a thrill of excitement go through her. Next year, there would be three of them.

PJ

AN: slightly delayed, but merry Christmas.