CHRISTMAS

"What is that?" Angela asked, her hands propped on her hips.

Dingo gave her an odd look. "What do you mean, 'what is that?' It's a Christmas tree."

It was certainly a tree. Or it used to be. Right now it looked more like a bizarre junkyard skeleton. Were those shell casings strung on the scraggly branches? And . . . soup cans?

"What?" she asked, voice made sharp by confusion, a habit she couldn't seem to shake no matter how hard she tried.

Dingo, long used to her defenses, ignored her tone. "Christmas tree," he repeated. When she only stared at him blankly he stood from where he'd been fiddling with his makeshift ornaments. He crossed his arms, one hip canting out slightly in a stance that should not be nearly as appealing as it was. "Come on, you've got to have Christmas in DEVA. Or is that another 'worthless subculture?'"

She blinked. From anyone else that might have been a barb, but this was Dingo, and he sounded more concerned then upset, despite the frown now stretching his lips. He was like that, always trying to make up for what he felt she'd been deprived of growing up in a digital world.

She shook her head. "No. I know what Christmas is." Her arm raised to gesture at the sad thing in the corner of their living space. "I've just never seen a Christmas tree that looks like that." Christmas trees in DEVA were perfect works of digital art. No one would waste valuable memory on anything less. Dingo's tree wasn't even an evergreen.

"It's the spirit that matters," he said.

Well, Dingo certainly had plenty of that. Still, Angela couldn't just concede the point.

"What does that," she pointed to the 'tree' with derision, "have to do with the spirit of Christmas?" For that matter, what did spirit have to do with Christmas at all? What was this, a pep rally?

He shook his head in mild disappointment and bent back to his work at the tree.

"Everything about Christmas is spirit, Ange. Peace on Earth, goodwill to man?" At her blank look he sighed. "Presents? Tell me they at least still do presents in DEVA."

"Well of course not," she snapped.

What would they give one another? Everything was pure data so they could create anything they wanted, and what a person could keep was all about how much memory they had available to them. No one wasted memory on something for someone else. Something they might not want or be able to sustain. Presents were pointless.

And was he saying they did give presents here? That seemed so . . . frivolous. Life on the surface was an endless obstacle course with survival the most prominent goal. Who had time or resources for presents?

"You didn't have a tree last year," she pointed out. "Or the year before." He never even mentioned Christmas before; she'd assumed it was just another day on the surface.

One large hand rose to rub the back of Dingo's neck and he looked at her somewhat sheepishly. "I didn't have a family last year or the year before."

She blinked at him. "Family?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Loved ones, at any rate. Having that again – I guess it made me nostalgic."

He thought of her as family? It was something of a foreign concept, having been raised on DEVA, but she'd seen something of what family meant in the nearly three years since her exile. Family was a concept beyond even lovers. To be family was to be of the same flesh and blood. To belong inextricably. It was a bond nothing could break because it wasn't something one chose, it was something that simply was. To know that he thought of her in that way . . .some part of her wanted to melt at that knowledge, but something from before stuck in her mind, preventing her from relaxing.

"You observed these traditions in childhood?"

"Yeah," he drawled slowly, expression becoming slightly guarded.

She looked around the room and realized more than just a tree had been added. Strings of shell casings and bottle lids were strung throughout the room, with sad examples of what passed for greenery in the desert interspersed. She envisioned a young Dingo enraptured by the way the light winked off the metal, helping his parents 'decorate.' And then she tried to imagine her Dingo stringing junk late at night while she slept.

She frowned. "This seems like a waste of resources."

"Waste?" He pouted. "It didn't cost much, Ange, I swear."

She refused to be swayed. "Perhaps not in funds, but certainly in time." Their lives were hard, dangerous, to deprive himself of sleep for this – it seemed ridiculous.

Dingo arched a brow. "So, let me get this straight – you're upset that I wasted my time stringing together old shell casings and punching holes in our garbage?"

It sounded silly when he said it like that.

"Yes. No. I don't know!" She couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was about this whole situation that so unnerved her, and that made her frustrated.

Instead of becoming upset –because that was something Dingo almost never did– her partner smiled, a slow, lazy grin.

"Huh. Well, then I guess you're gonna be really upset that I bought you a present." He stood with a languid shrug. "Guess I'd better take it back."

Angela was nodding before she fully registered what he'd said, and then she stopped.

"Wait. You bought me a present?"

He smiled. Clearly he had no intention of actually taking whatever it was back.

Crap, now she had to get him something. She wondered if Carson still had that fuel exchanger Dingo had been looking at the other week, and then wondered if she could possibly afford it. She had a little saved away, but most of their income went toward shared expenses. And even if she did have the money, how was she going to get away from him long enough to buy it? For that matter, how did he get away from her long enough to buy her a gift? Where was he hiding it? Would it be something practical or sentimental? Dingo was strangely romantic. Should she maybe try to track down one of those music recordings he was so fond of instead of the fuel converter?

She didn't notice his approach until his hand dropped lightly onto her head. She looked up at him as best she could without tilting her head to find he was smiling.

"Stop it," he chided gently. "I can see you thinking. You don't have to worry about it – I wasn't expecting a present. "

She shoved at his hand, irritated. "Who said I was thinking about getting you a present?" She crossed her arms, lips twitching in irritation. "In fact, who says I don't already have one for you? Are you implying that I would forget to get you a Christmas present?" It escaped her recollection that she'd told him only a few minutes ago gift-giving had not been a part of the Christmas tradition on DEVA.

He gave her a knowing look and chuckled. His hand ruffled her hair slightly before smoothing it with gentle fingertips.

Damn annoying, insightful man. Weren't men supposed to be shallow and oblivious? She couldn't become involved with one of them, someone simple and easy. No. She had to fall in love with someone who knew her mind better than she did. Who cared enough to figure her out.

Suddenly uncomfortable, she huffed and turned to stomp away, but Dingo caught he from behind and pulled her into a loose embrace, his chest warm against her back. She shivered pleasantly as a smooth curl tickled her temple and his hot breath brushed her ear as he murmured, "You're all the Christmas present I need."

He kissed her ear and it was a struggle not to melt into a puddle at his feet. Gentle hands turned her and he tilted her chin gently, revealing sparkling, love filled eyes before his mouth claimed hers.

Yeah, Dingo was definitely romantic. But she was still gonna check with Carson about the fuel exchanger.

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A/N: So I should warn you now that these are in no particular order - timeline-wise. Obviously I posted this one now because, well, Christmas. The rest I shall post as fancy strikes me. This one is theoretically set after they've been together the better part of a year. I've got at least two more set very early in their romantic relationship, and a few ambiguous ones. We'll see what else comes to me.

Bye and Merry Christmas