Appreciate your patience with my sporadic posting - got a lot going on. Here's the first of my Christmas/holidays themed conversations... We're joining Elizabeth in her role as Grandma for this one.

Happy reading =)

"At Christmas, all roads lead home." – Marjorie Holmes

"Grandma! Did you see what I getted?"

I smile at Tegan's excited antics. "No, I didn't. What did you get, Tegan?" I respond, indulging her.

"A flashlight! And it changes colours!" she explains happily, shining the rather bright light directly into my eyes. I hold up a hand and gently push away the flashlight, redirecting the beam of light onto the far wall.

"Wow, that's very bright."

"Yeah! Now I won't be scared at night! Cause I can see everything."

I open my mouth to respond but Derek's call for Tegan and her brother beat me to the punch. "Matty, Tee, time for some lunch."

"But Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaddy! I'm showing Grandma my-"

"You can show her later, Tegan. She's staying for dinner."

Tegan's eyes widen. "Really?!"

I nod and smile warmly as she grins and then takes off quickly for the kitchen. I turn back toward the Christmas tree and find Emily curled up on the couch, a mug of coffee in her hands.

"I thought you might like some coffee," she says, passing me a full mug from the end table. "I know it was an early morning," she says knowingly, referencing the almost painfully early wakeup call we'd all received from Matthew and Tegan.

"That sounds fantastic," I say honestly. I wouldn't go so far as to say I feel old…but I certainly don't feel young anymore and a bit of relaxation time is more than welcome in today's hectic schedule. Christmas with children – or rather, grandchildren – will do that to a person.

"Sorry about that by the way – I tried to keep them quiet as long as I could, but the lure of Santa's presents was far too enticing."

"Don't worry about it, Em. They're kids and it's Christmas. If they weren't excited, I would be surprised."

"Especially since they have Morgan blood in them," she says with a laugh. I smile knowingly. After we had gotten past the initial stiff and formal introductory phase, I had the opportunity to see the real Derek Morgan. My main conclusion, upon getting to see this new side of him, was that my daughter's partner was an absolute goofball.

"I won't argue there. I'm not sure who was more excited this morning…them or Derek," I say as I join her in her laughter. Memories of Derek ripping into his presents with more gusto than both his children combined, and his barely contained excitement are not far off.

"Thanks for coming today, Mom," Em says after a moment, when our laughter has died down. "I know the twins loved having you here this morning, and I'm sure they'll be absolutely ecstatic about having you stay for dinner."

"Thank you for having me. This is the best Christmas I've had in a long time," I answer honestly. The Christmases before Emily had left her job at the BAU had been nothing more than a formality, thanks to our years of stubborn distance. But the ones since then have been warmer every year, and once the twins came into the picture, they became something I very much looked forward to. I unfortunately had to miss last year's Christmas due to a temporary posting overseas, so when Emily invited me to stay with them over Christmas this year, I jumped at the chance.

"I loved having you here too," she says softly, meeting my gaze and smiling genuinely. There's so much emotion in her eyes, it has me feeling tears prick at the backs of my own eyes. It had taken many years, and many painful conversations, but we'd finally rekindled the easy relationship we had enjoyed when she was a little girl.

I offer a watery smile as I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat. I can't find any ability to respond and instead we settle into silence, each of us enjoying our coffee and a quiet moment among a morning full of squeals and shrieks. I turn to face Emily after a few minutes and find her staring out the window at the falling snow, a pensive look on her face.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I venture softly, wondering what has her looking so thoughtful.

"Hmm?" she answers as her gaze meets mine.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I repeat.

"I was just thinking about Grand-maman, actually."

My eyes widen in surprise. Of all the things I'd have guessed she was thinking about, my mother was certainly not one of them. "Oh?"

She nods. "Seeing you with Matthew and Tegan this morning has me wondering what she would have been like with me. You're so good with them, and they absolutely adore you… I just wonder if I would have been that way with her."

I smile sadly. It's something I've often thought about over the years. I always wonder how my life would have been different if we hadn't lost her so early on. "Well if your interactions with your grandfather are any indication…" I answer with a small smile. To say Dad had spoiled Emily would be the understatement of the century.

The corners of her mouth curl up slightly in reply. "Grandad told me once that I looked like her."

"You do. More so than me, actually," I say thoughtfully as I scan her features quickly. It's true, while my mother and I shared many features, Emily seems to have inherited even more. I'd always been grateful that she took after my side of the family, though there have always been moments – flashes, really – that I can see Harrison in her.

"Really?" I nod. "What was she like?" she asks after a moment.

I let out a soft exhale. It had been some time since I thought about her that much. "Beautiful, smart, always curious, incredibly kind… You're a lot like her. You wear her name well."

"You do too," Emily says softly. "It sounds like you're a lot like her."

I offer a half-hearted smile in return. Even all these years later, it still hurts. "She would have loved you."

"Oh?"

I nod. "I'm sure of it. I'm sorry you never got to meet her."

"Is it weird that I miss her?"

I take a second to consider her question. Can you miss someone you've never met? "I don't think so," I answer slowly.

She shrugs. "I know it sounds strange. I mean, how can you miss someone you've never met, right?"

I offer a sympathetic smile. "I don't think it's all that strange. You had such a special relationship with your grandfather, and she was a big part of the man he was. She was instrumental in making him into the man who spoiled you rotten."

She smiles fondly at my mention of her being spoiled. "What were they like together?"

"I remember thinking they loved each other like a prince and a princess. Their love always seemed like it should be the subject of a fairy-tale."

"Really?"

I nod. "Dad would bring her roses just because, and would make these grand speeches about how much he loved her. You remember how he was, just imagine him being that goofy and loving in a purely romantic way."

"And Grand-maman?"

"You could tell she loved him very deeply. She used to get this look on her face whenever he'd come home after a long day, and you could just tell that they were soul mates. They were both a bit goofy. I think their favourite thing in the world was to make each other smile. Their eyes always lit up when they managed to make the other laugh."

"Sounds like a love for the ages."

"Oh, it was. Losing her was the hardest thing Dad ever had to endure."

"How old were you when she died?"

"She died a few days before my 9th birthday."

"That's why you always looked so sad around your birthday," she says in realization. "I had no idea- I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I say, reaching a hand out and giving her arm a squeeze. Her gaze shifts from her mug to meet mine once more. "It was a long time ago."

Before she can respond we're interrupted by a very excited Matthew. "Mama! I eated lunch, can we play now?"

"You ate all of your lunch?" Emily corrects gently.

He nods vehemently.

"Are you sure?" she asks, shooting a quick look to the kitchen entryway where Derek is standing. He gives her a slight nod.

Matthew nods again, this time more slowly and with a small frown. "I did, Mama. I promise."

"I believe you, Curious George."

"We play now?"

"In a little bit. Grandma and I are talking right now."

"Oh," he says, a sheepish expression forming on his face as he covers his mouth. "I sorry."

"It's okay, little man. Why don't you go play with your sister?"

"Okay!" he says happily before skipping off to sit by the backdoor and work on a new puzzle with Tegan.

After Tegan joins her brother by the back door, Derek appears by Em's side. "I'm going to take Campbell for a quick walk – he's got way too much pent up energy since we didn't get a chance to walk him the last few days."

"Okay."

"I won't be too long," he says, leaning over to give her a quick kiss before heading for the front door, beckoning Campbell from his post at the back door with the twins.

Emily and I watch him leave the house, and chuckle when we hear excited barks. "He's not going to be well behaved, is he?"

"Are you referring to the dog or my husband?" Emily deadpans before breaking into a laugh that I join in with.

We settle into silence again as we watch the twins concentrate on their puzzle. Their faces are adorable as their brows scrunch in thought while they flip around piece after piece to try and get them to fit. I can't get over how much they look like Emily did at that age. I can remember countless times she made the same face as she focused intently on something.

"I remember when you were that age," I say, breaking the silence. "You were rather adorable with your little pigtails and your toothy grin."

"Was I?"

"Oh yes. You had the entire staff wrapped around your little finger. Shane in particular."

Em smiles fondly at the mention of our old driver. "He was great."

"He was," I agree.

"I remember he spent one Christmas with you and me."

"That's right, you were about 7 or 8 at the time. He got snowed in before he was able to head home for the holidays, so he spent them with us."

"He cooked us dinner, didn't he?"

I nod. "He did. Which is probably a good thing…since I'm not much of a cook."

She chuckles. "Probably for the best he was snowed in with us then," she says teasingly.

"I could have managed."

"I'm sure," she says, trying to keep a straight face, but failing.

"Oh, come on. I'm not totally hopeless." She just laughs, and I frown at her reaction.

"Could Grand-maman cook? Or did Grandad have to do it all?"

"Oh, she was a fantastic cook. Familiar with the majority of classic French cooking techniques."

"Really?"

"Well, she was French," I point out.

"Sure, but that makes you half French and yet…"

"Okay, young lady, that's quite enough of your sass," I say firmly, but a smile easily breaks through my stern expression.

"Did you do any cooking with her?"

"Not cooking, no. But we did bake quite a bit."

"You can bake?"

I frown, a little sad that she has no memory of making sugar cookies with me in the kitchen of our place in Paris. "Ah, but you were probably too young to remember," I muse aloud.

"Too young to remember what?"

"We did some Christmas baking together one year. You were probably 3 or so at the time."

"We did?" she says in surprise, her eyebrows rising.

I nod. "We baked them and spent hours decorating them."

She smiles sadly. "I'm sorry I don't remember."

"Me too. It's one of my favourite Christmas memories." Her expression falls and I see hints of sadness and regret flash in her eyes. "Hey, come on," I say, as I tilt her chin up. "It's okay. I remember well enough for the both of us."

"No, it's not that," she starts to explain but trails off. "I'm just sad we missed out on so many memories because we were too stubborn and petty."

"I am too, but there's no point in dwelling on it now. We're making new memories now, and making up for that lost time."

"When did you get so wise?"

"I had a lot of time to think about what I'd missed out on with you when I believed you dead."

She looks away instantly and I feel the guilt and tension in her rise. It's still something she doesn't like to discuss. She hasn't told me the details of what transpired to lead to her faked death, or what she'd been doing all those years before she arrived at the BAU. It's not something I've ever asked about, because I know it's not something she wants to share, and I respect that. We all have our secrets after all.

"I thought about what I would have done if I'd gotten another chance with you. And when you came back, I did all those things."

I try and meet her gaze but she keeps her head turned. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

"It's okay."

"I'm not sure I ever told you how I sorry I am for putting you through that."

"Em, it's okay."

"No, I really get it now that I'm a mother. I can't even imagine losing Matty or Tee- I'd- It would break me," she says, swinging her gaze around to meet mine. "It wasn't fair of me to put you through that. No parent should have to bury their child."

"You're here, and we're together. That's what matters," I say in an effort to console her. I can feel the guilt and regret rolling off of her.

"Still, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be. You did what you thought you had to. I don't know the details, and I've never sought them out, but I know if you had to take such drastic action, then it must have been your only choice."

"I-"

"I don't care, Emily. I meant what I said. You're here, and we mended our broken relationship. I couldn't ask for any more."

"Thank you," she says quietly, leaning into my embrace when I wrap my arms around her. I'm reminded of times spent holding her tiny frame as she curled up in my lap with her little arms wrapped around my neck tightly.

"You are very welcome."

"Mom?" she asks after a few moments of silence.

"Yes?"

"Do you think we could bake some cookies and decorate them with Matthew and Tegan?"

"Of course. Your grandmother would be delighted that we're carrying on her family's tradition."

Emily frowns in confusion. "It's a family tradition?"

I nod. "I remember baking cookies for Christmas with her when I was a little girl, and hearing stories of how she did the same with her mother."

"Well then I think it's time we carried on that tradition."

I smile at her words. It warms my heart to know she wants to honour the family tradition and keep a piece of her grandmother with her. Emily and I may have spent many years apart and at our wits end with each other, but we'd mended that strained relationship and are closer than ever before.

"I think that's a wonderful idea," I say, as I give her shoulder a squeeze, reveling in the fact that she's here, and healthy, and happy to have me here. This is turning out to be the best Christmas yet.

So...did you smile at young Tegan's enthusiasm? Enjoy the sentimental side of the Ambassador? Feel for Emily as she still tries to grapple with her faked death and its effect on everyone? Do let me know... Reviews are a lovely gift this time of year...

I'm hoping to get at least one more Christmas/holiday themed conversation done before I suffer from a sugar coma thanks to various treats and baked goods appearing in my home.