A/N: Happy Holidays and Happy New Year to all! This is another collaboration between Windbound Zygon24 and myself. We realize Christmas has just passed but we're going with the 12 days of Christmas here to say we posted this in time ;). We used a random word and phrase generator and you will see the phrases and words in bold that we were given (Gumdrops, mittens, ho ho ho, naughty, quick and dirty, ring any bells). Enjoy!

Gil Grissom was making his way to the breakroom, assignments slips in hand, when he noticed Judy hanging Christmas lights around the lobby.

"Where does the year go?" he asked.

"I know! Just yesterday I was worrying about how I was going to handle my in-laws visiting for Easter and now they'll be back next week for Christmas."

Grissom nodded his head in sympathy though he really had no frame of reference. His significant other had no family that would ever visit and while he was ok with that he often wished he had overly annoying but sweet inlaws as it would mean Sara would've had a happier childhood.

Walking into the breakroom he took in the faces of his 'family' and inwardly smiled. Catherine had been right that a family had been building around him and he was proud of the bond they shared. Sara looked up and threw him a big smile, one which he readily returned before speaking to the group.

"Okay everyone, it's a slow night, we only got one case. A missing person's case. They were last seen at a convention at Mandalay Bay. It's all hands on deck as there will be plenty of witnesses to interview."

"Who disappeared?" Nick asked before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Santa," Grissom replied.

"Seriously?" Catherine responded with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes it seems our potential vic was a participant in this year's Santa Con. He was last seen at the morning's Beard Grooming 101 seminar but never made it to the evening's Ho! Ho! Ho! contest."

"Ho! Ho! Ho! contest?" Warrick asked incredulously.

"Yes, apparently our victim was in the finals for Santa of the year and one of the competitions was how well you can Ho! Ho! Ho!"

"My papa Olaf would be Santa every year in the town's Christmas Parade. I bet he could show these Santa wannabes a thing or two," Greg said with pride as a reminisced.

Sara bit back a snort at Greg's comment.

"Okay everyone grab your kits and let's go. Warrick and Catherine you can ride together and Greg and Nick. Sara you're with me," Grissom said as he turned to leave the breakroom.

"Have fun riding with Scrooge McDuck," Nick joked as he grabbed his jacket.

"Hey you're just upset he caught you trying to hang mistletoe above his office door," Sara said with a chuckle.

"Well can you blame me for trying to help the guy out? I mean really. When was the last time he went out on a date let alone kissed a woman?"

"Hey for all we know Griss is getting more action than both of us," Warrick said, gesturing to himself, and Nick.

"Yeah right and I just saw a pig fly by," Nick said with a chuckle.

Sara stayed silent as she thought about their 'date' before shift. They had attempted to decorate a gingerbread house but soon Hank had been eating the gingerbread while she and Grissom had been occupied with the frosting and gumdrops. Oh the places you could lick…

She was roused out of her daydream by Catherine's voice.

"Hey, you gonna join us?" She said, waving a hand in front of Sara's face.

"Uh yeah sorry," Sara said quickly, grabbing her coat.

"Where were you just now? Or should I say who were you with?" Catherine laughed as she watched Sara's face turn a bright shade of red.

Sara chose to ignore her as she headed for the locker room to grab her kit before rushing to the parking lot to meet up with Grissom.

"Hey you ok?" he asked when she entered the car, her face still flushed.

"Uh yeah I'm fine. Just the cold. It gets to me this time of year."

"Whatever you say dear," Grissom said as he reached over the console to squeeze Sara's hand.

Sara instantly relaxed, letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

"Did you see they're taking photos with Santa at the doggy daycare?" Grissom asked, deciding to try and lift Sara's mood.

"Yes, I signed him up for that last week. He's going to look so cute. I even bought him a and antler headband to wear," she said with a smile.

"Poor dog will be totally emasculated by New Year's."

"Hey!" Sara said as she playfully punched his arm.

She had but all three of them matching holiday sweaters to wear for photos. While there was no one to really send the photos too she still wanted them for her own private collection. Both man and dog had scoffed at the idea once they saw the sweaters but Sara had been pretty persuasive and in the end got her way.

Five minutes later they pulled in front of the Mandalay Bay Hotel and Casino. The hotel's general manager escorted them to the ballroom where the convention was taking place.

"Look at all these Santas. It's like Christmas threw up in here," Greg said as they made their way through the ballroom.

"Pat Boone said, 'The greatest thing is not to believe in Santa Claus; it is to be Santa Claus'," Grissom answered back.

Catherine rolled her eyes as Warrick bit back a chuckle.

"Okay everyone. I have copies of the schedule over the past few days. I say it's best if we divide and conquer," Gil said as Brass joined the group.

Greg and Nick went to talk to the instructors from the Beard Grooming Seminar while Catherine and Warrick went to speak to those who attended the Ho! Ho! Ho! Competition. Leaving Sara, Grissom and Brass to speak to the convention's organizers.

"So the convention is organized by Jody and Jimmy Pole," Brass said, looking over his notes.

Sara raised her eyebrows at the name but said nothing,

"According to the Poles, Nicholas Saint was in the running to take first place at this year's event. Last year he had been runner up but blamed his loss on the winner, A Mr. Christopher Cringle."

"Wait a minute these aren't their real names are they?" Sara asked incredulously.

"According to the DMV they are," Brass answered.

"Anyway, Mr. Saint said that his shaving cream can had been tainted. I guess a red bearded Santa is a no go?"

"Mr and Mrs. Pole. My name is Detective Jim Brass with the Las Vegas Police Department and this is Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle with the crime lab. Would you mind if we asked you a few questions about Mr. Saint?"

"Of course not. Anything we can do to help," answered Mrs. Pole.

"When was the last time you saw Mr. Saint?"

"Well he was at the Beard Grooming Seminar at 9 this morning and my husband said he saw him again at lunch time."

"Yes I did but it was strange because he wasn't up for eating," answered Mr. Pole.

"Maybe he just wasn't hungry?" Sara asked.

"Ah, but no self respecting Santa skips a meal. Especially when milk and cookies were for dessert," said Mr. Pole seriously.

It took all Sara and Grissom had not to roll their eyes at that comment.

"Anyway I asked Nicholas where he was going and he told me he was going to ensure that no funny business was going on this year. Now Detective I assure you that my wife and I run a clean contest. We don't tolerate cheating of any kind. Truth is last year Mr. Saint had no proof that someone messed with his shaving cream so we really couldn't penalize Mr. Cringle on conjecture alone."

"You must follow the evidence," said Grissom, earning him an eye roll from Sara.

"Exactly and we did. There was nothing to be found and Christopher swore he didn't know which room Nicholas was staying in."

After a few more minutes they were interrupted by Catherine.

"Ummm guys I think you're going to want to come and take a look at this."

The trio made their way out of the ballroom and into a connecting service tunnel. Fifty feet into the tunnel they spotted Mr. Saint. He was lying on the floor wearing a Santa hat, and Jacket but sans pants. A sparkling red g-sting completed his ensemble.

"Well it looks like someone made Santa's naughty list this year," Catherine said looking down at the body.

"And it looks like he can't help ending up with a red beard every year", Sara added pointing to the blood stains on Mr Saint's well groomed beard. Putting gloves on, she crouched down close to the victim's head to examine the inflicted wound..

"Blunt force trauma?" Grissom asked, bending over.

"I'm afraid so. Something big and heavy landed on this guy's head."

"How about this fire extinguisher right here?" asked Warrick from further down the hall where Catherine followed him. Switching her flashlight on, she took a closer look.

"Yup. Hair and blood in the bottom corner. It's our murder weapon alright", she said in triumph.

"Weapon of opportunity…this wasn't planned", Grissom said, twitching his lips and Sara, who was taking photographs of the scene, nodded suppressing a grin. Her secret lover was so adorable when he pouted his lips like that when lost in thought. took all her will to not kiss him in front of everyone. This secret affair of theirs was so hard for her sometimes while he looked like he had no trouble separating love from work.

Sara's little reverie was interrupted by an impatient Brass. "Planned or not, we have to stay on schedule here, I have a whole convention of people not to mention reporters swarming around the hotel so Grissom, gather your elves and let's hunt Santa's killer."

Sara and Grissom rolled their eyes just as Nick and Greg rushed inside the tunnel.

"There you are", Nick said catching his breath,"Guys, we have to go find Mr Cringle. Apparently there was a big fight between the two of them after lunch. Witnesses heard Mr Saint saying he had evidence against him for foul play."

"What kind of evidence?" asked Grissom standing up.

"He didn't say", Greg chipped in. "But he was asking around about the hotel's security cameras yesterday at Santa's underwear auction".

"Underwear?" asked Sara in disbelief, "someone would think mittens and a hat would be enough accessories for a children's saint."

"I wouldn't expect you of all people to be surprised Sara," Greg moaned, "with San Francisco's Santa Skivvies Run happening this year. Besides, it was a fundraiser for clothes for the children's shelter. I suppose that's where our victim got that sexy outfit", he pointed at the g-string. "Maybe you could have come up with something even sparklier?" he winked.

"That's enough Greggo," Grissom interrupted, a bit too harshly in Sara's opinion.

"If I were Santa, I would think some fireproof briefs would be a wiser choice", Warrick quipped as Nick chuckled.

"Safety first huh?" Catherine snorted as she arranged the fingerprints they had just lifted into her CSI case.

"Boys have to look after their balls Cath. Even Santa," Nick said with a chuckle.

The CSIs all laughed except Grissom who looked at his watch, frowning.

"Boys… put your pants on and follow me", he pointed towards the other end of the tunnel.

"I'll meet you outside", Brass shouted after them, "the coroner will be here any minute now."

"Don't forget the warrant", Grissom shouted back as they made their way ahead.

"Whatever happened to a white Christmas?" Doc Robbins enquired as he knelt over the bloody bedazzled body.

"A mean elf and a readily available fire extinguisher. Can you tell us anything more?" Came Catherine's quip.

The older man gripped his cane and rose with a sigh, "Sorry ladies, it seems pretty straightforward. All I can say is that you're either looking for a very tall miscreant, or someone strong enough to throw a five pound piece of metal about six feet in the air with sufficient force to shatter bone. Blunt force trauma to the back of his skull took him out in one hit."

"Quick and dirty." Catherine cooed, "That rules out Ms. Pole, a kid's snowball could take that woman out."

"And she had no motive, looks like Mr. Cringle is still at the top of our list." Sara added a "Don't ask" at the pathologist's raised eyebrows.

Picking up his briefcase, Robbins spotted the victim's red coat riding up and exhaled in disappointment, "Fake belly. Christmas has just lost its authenticity."

Sara flipped through the red and gold flyer in her hands, brow shooting up. "Given the prize money up for grabs at these things, I'm not surprised they boost their game with a few props."

The doctor tapped his belly and scratched at his white stubble with a shake of his head. "I think I missed my calling."

The brunette frowned as she shifted on her feet, scanning the victim's beard from a fresh angle, "I think there's something else you missed, doc."

"So we're getting the jump on this guy?" Nick asked as Grissom led him, Warrick and Greg to their suspect's room.

"Seems pretty obvious." Sanders agreed.

"Let's not jump to any conclusions, everyone here is a suspect." Grissom dutifully pointed out.

They reached the door and brought the occupant out with a sharp knock.

"Mr. Cringle?" Nick forced the smirk off his face at Christopher's irritated expression and cleared his throat, "We have a few questions regarding…"

The CSI trailed off at the sight of the suspect's room, covered wall to wall in tinsel and winter-themed decals. Two towering Christmas trees occupied the far corners of the suite, their glittering lights bouncing off the various shiny decorations hanging from the drapes and ceiling, and the low coffee table in its center was littered with scraps of wrapping paper, ribbon and glue.

"Have you ever thought, Mr. Cringle, that maybe Christmas doesn't come from a store?" Grissom gave an amused smile at the sight.

"A Grinch joke, how original."

"You know, if you're trying to win a Santa Claus contest, Mr. Cringle, you might want to think about amping up the holiday cheer." Greg noted.

The plump middle-aged man sighed, "Sorry, I'm exhausted from practicing for all the contests. You try speed gift-wrapping teddy bears while guzzling down cookies and spiralling lights down a christmas tree."

"That's a lot of contests… And a lot of prize money. Must be stressful, what with all the competition out there." Brown gestured towards the conventional hall a few floors down.

"A little competition never scared me. Besides, they don't stand a chance." Arrogance shone in the man's eyes and Nick tapped Warrick's side.

"Say, he might be a Grinch, but he's built like Krampus. Strong enough to overpower pretty much anyone here, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, yeah I would Nick."

Cringle flinched at their pointed stares, "What are you on about?"

"You wouldn't know anything about a fellow santa being knocked out of the running, would you?"

"You mean the guy who went missing, Nicholas?"

"Yeah, except he's been found, and it doesn't look like he'll make it to the big day." Warrick narrowed his eyes at the suspect's shocked expression.

"What? I'm so sorry. But you… You don't seriously think I have anything to do with that?"

"Apparently you and Mr. Saint were acquainted, he accused you of cheating at last year's convention. That ring any jingle bells?" The Texan inquired.

Grissom's pager beeped.

"He lied, the guy was a joke and had to resort to props and foul play to get anywhere near the podium." Came Cringle's sneering reply.

"We hear you missed lunch, and that you and ol' Saint Nick had a bit of a brawl."

"I wasn't hungry. Or is that not a credible alibi for you people?"

Nick shrugged off his snark with ease, "It would be if the fight hadn't taken place a few feet from the dining hall."

"I went in to grab a cookie. I'm dressed like Santa Claus, it's not a stretch."

"Were you peckish, or sneaking into his room to slip some red in his shaving cream?"

Nick heard Greg's pager beep. The youngest CSI glanced up at his boss and nodded before walking back towards the convention room, with one last look at the protesting suspect.

"Will you stop? I'm cooperating here, you could show me a little decency. Besides, his room is nowhere near the dining hall. It would be too big of a risk to take and too easy to get caught. I play and win fair and square, my hands are white as snow."

"Why don't you cut out the jokes and tell us why you were fighting with Mr. Saint?" Warrick pressed.

"I told you, he's a cheat. He was going to snag my win by claiming I tampered with his stuff, just like he did last year. He was raving, yelling at me. Maybe he wanted me to hit him and get disqualified, but I wasn't taking the bait. I went back to my room. I'm done talking about this." He snarled his last words.

"Would you rather talk about presents?" Grissom finally broke his pensive silence.

"What?"

"I noticed you use glue to wrap your presents. It's a bit of an odd choice."

"It holds better, and you don't get that telltale tape shine. It always looks cheap."

"Is that a common choice?"

"Nope," came the complacent answer, "I'm the only one who thought of it. Sure, it takes longer, but I more than make up for it in presentation points."

"I see. We'll be out of your beard soon, Mr. Cringle. Would you mind giving us a few fingernail scrapings first? Just checking for blood." Grissom reassured him.

"Sure, whatever you need to be convinced I had nothing to do with that maniac keeling over."

The supervisor thanked him before whipping out an evidence baggie.

An hour later, Nick and Warrick were loading up the van with the limited evidence they gathered as Grissom leaned against the cool metal door, ear glued to the phone.

"Thanks Jim, that's what I was hoping for." His lips curled into a grin as the rest of the team filed out of the hall's double doors and joined them.

"We've got our guy. Brass is bringing him in, looks like Santa Claus is coming downtown."

"What? Did I miss something?" Nick asked.

"No, you were right, Mr. Cringle killed Nicholas Saint."

"What happened to not jumping to conclusions?"

"I'm not, I'm following the evidence. Sara paged me earlier about a substance on Nicholas's beard." The brunette gave the boys a cheeky wave.

"Sorry, I couldn't brief you guys on it without alerting our perp." The boys nodded in understanding, urging him on, "So I paged Greg and asked him to check the victim's room for the same substance-"

"Which I found smeared over his shaving cream and beard clippers."

"Then I checked Christophers nails."

"Yeah, for blood, which I thought was strange. The victim didn't have any scratch marks on him, and the hit was made with a long object. There's not a whole lot of reason for blood under his nails." Warrick frowned.

"Which is probably what he thought too, which means he wouldn't have been worried that I'd find any incriminating fluids on his hands and would be more inclined to agree. Except I did, glue."

"Glue?"

"The very same glue he insisted was his unique touch on gift wrapping. Brass got the warrant to search his room and just received the lab reports. The glue from his desk matches the one under his nails, the one in Mr. Saint's room and the one tangled into his beard."

"After Sara found the stuff on his chin, I checked the fire extinguisher. There was glue all over the handle." Cath added with a grin.

"And his alibi was a little flimsy given he told the Poles he had no idea where Saint's room was, but somehow knew it was too far from the dining hall to make it without getting caught." Grissom concluded.

Realisation crossed Nick's features, "Which explains the fight. Nicholas noticed he wasn't at lunch and caught Christopher on his way out of smearing his shaving cream with glue."

"He probably denied doing anything, so Nicholas put on the cream as proof and went to turn him in to the Poles. With that much prize money, Christopher couldn't risk it and hit him with the first thing he found." Warrick finished.

"Great work, team." Catherine smiled at everyone's satisfied and relieved faces, "Come on, breakfast is on me, we need a break."

"Catherine's buying? It's a Christmas miracle." Greg eagerly agreed, joining the blonde in her truck.

"Boys?"

"Yeah, I could use a coffee." Nick agreed, Warrick hot on his heels.

"Sure, leave me to submit the evidence and fill in the paperwork." Sara quipped, and the team's faces quickly turned to guilty apologies and protests.

Sara laughed them off, "It's fine, really, I'm the only one with any overtime left and I need to sort out a few things at the lab anyway. You guys enjoy the rarity of free breakfast."

Lately Sara had found she'd much rather speed home than spend the late hours of the morning hunched over cold case files. Warm arms and fluffy fur were far more comforting than the rough pleather and harsh metal of lab stools. It made for extra overtime– but she knew the processing would be quick on a case like this, and a few acquaintances from the swing shift would be eager to lend a hand to repay the constant case backlog the night team helped them with.

"Thanks Sara, we all really appreciate it. Grissom, care to join?"

"No thanks, Cath, I think I'm a little Christmassed out."

Sara parked her Denali by a worn-down Tahoe and quickly jumped out, eagerly fumbling with her keys and slipping inside the townhouse. The smell of spices and holly hit her senses as she skipped down the steps to the kitchen, a bright smile gracing her features when she crouched down and spotted the golden-brown gingerbread baking in the oven.

"It's my mother's recipe. She coached me through it despite my insisting I could manage."

Sara turned beaming, her jaw dropping when she caught sight of her boyfriend. He stood by their little Christmas tree in a dark green and red striped sweater, rows of white knitted reindeers and snowflakes wrapping around each stripe. Hank barked at his feet, his fuzzy head adorned with reindeer antlers and a matching sweater snuggled around his sides.

"They're perfect!" Sara almost squealed, rushing up to scratch the boxer's ears.

"He is pretty adorable." Grissom admitted with a smile.

"So are you," she reached up to his neck and pulled him in for a soft kiss, "what happened to being Christmassed out?"

"I needed an excuse to get things ready."

"Hmm, I promise I won't tell Santa you lied."

"Santa's dead."

Sara swatted his arm with a grimace, "don't say that." Hank whined at her feet and she quickly brought her attention back to the dog with generous pats, "He didn't mean it, buddy, you'll still get plenty of treats."

"Sorry." He apologized sheepishly, his insides melting at Sara's toothy smile.

"It's ok, I forgive you. You're lucky your sweater is cute." She let out a surprised yelp as Grissom picked her up bridal style and thanked her with another gentle kiss. "Come on Gil, we'll be late for the photoshoot."

He let her back on her feet and turned to leash their dog before Sara stopped him.

"Oh, Gil?"

He turned, "Hm?"

Sara's hand was suddenly pressed to his chest as her other grasped his belt at the buckle and pulled him towards her, joining them at the hip. The hand on his chest slipped up to his collar and her fingers toyed with the fabric as she leaned forward to sultrily whisper in his ear, "Don't think this gets you off my naughty list. It'll take a lot more than a quick kiss, you have some serious repenting to do tonight."

Grissom swallowed at her heated gaze, his senses suddenly on fire. She ducked away just as he leaned in to capture her lips again, her seductive smirk quickly curling into a gleeful smile.

"Merry Christmas, Gil." She pursed her lips and snapped her fingers to lead Hank towards the door.

Once his dry mouth was able to form words, he called out "Is that why all the ribbon and tinsel is gone from the cabinets?"

The only answer that graced his question was a knowing chuckle floating out of the townhouse.

Christmas was coming early this year.