For Sydney, Christmas had meant celebrating with whatever they had access to at the time. The constant travel for her father's work across the globe coupled with her mom's love of the holidays meant that celebrations were often varied, whether it was Christmas or they joined in with new friends for other festivities such as Hannukah, Bodhi, and Kwanzaa. The important thing for the Foxes was that they celebrated as a family.

Her mom would tell stories of the Honolulu City Lights ceremony, the numerous parties on the beaches as part of the celebration, and how people would decorate their doors with wreaths made with the poinsettias that grew spectacularly well on the warm island. Her dad would tell stories of his own Christmases as a child sitting in warm living rooms and drinking egg nogg while answering the door to listen to carolers as they came around. Something both had in common was a tree – for her mom, a local palm, for her dad a traditional pine.

What they didn't do because they never seemed to be in the right place, was look for a Christmas tree to bring to wherever home was that year. It was just not possible.

When she went to live with her grandmother after the death of Dr. Newell, they would go to the Honolulu City Lights ceremony and Sydney would run off to the beach with her friends. On Christmas day, they would often go to the house of a friend they'd been invited to celebrate with, making bringing in a Christmas tree rather pointless when they wouldn't be home to celebrate.

Something Nigel had said once had stuck in her mind though. They had been talking late one night, a bottle of wine in (which meant that he was nearing plastered while she was feeling more relaxed if anything) and Nigel had started reminiscing some of his good childhood moments, before his parents died. It had apparently been a family tradition to go out and find the perfect pine tree to bring home and decorate. She had mulled it over briefly, but ultimately she was an impulsive and decisive person and in no time at all she had measured out a corner of her living room and shifted some furniture, found the decorations her dad had given to her to hold onto from his childhood, some lights she used the year before when her boyfriend at the time wanted some decorations, and found a local tree farm. From the living room dimensions, she figured that the tree would be small enough to fit on the top of her car; either way she'd make it work. They'd just need to go with the flow.

"Oh, Nigel," she called out as he was about to leave her office the next day. He turned to face her, a questioning look on his face. "Plans for tomorrow?"

He studied her for what must have been no more than a second and then shut the door he had just been about to leave through. Something in her expression must've told him this wasn't about work and he didn't want anyone to hear. The change from employee to boyfriend was subtle, but Sydney had been looking for it. His body relaxed and opened, his eyes softened, and his lips turned up in a gentle smile. She fought the slight thrill that went through her at the change, the softer side meant just for her. They had developed a habit of pretending as though nothing had changed at work, both deciding they were all ready at the centre of too many rumours and not wanting to deal with the paperwork that came with HR.

"No, no plans. What were you thinking?"

"Oh, just an idea I had."

"What kind of idea?" Nigel's eyes suddenly widened. "It doesn't involve going to a zoo again, does it? Because I'd really rather not. Not that I wouldn't go anywhere with you, you know I would but that was really stretching it…" Nigel continued to ramble, running a hand through his hair as he grew agitated.

Sydney winced at the memory. A month ago she had received a tip about a relic on an ancient burial site. The problem was that a zoo had been built over it. While they had eventually found the relic, Nigel had made friends, or enemies, with some of the animals who had been delighted in throwing things at him, or trying to gnaw on his hair. Privately, she had thought the elephant's attempts to play with him using her trunk to be quite adorable in spite of her boyfriend's indignation.

"No, no, nothing like that," she cut off his tirade about the monkeys. "No relics."

"Oh." Nigel slowly dragged his hand from his hair. It was standing up every which way, something Karen was sure to tease him about once he left the inner office. "A date then," he said smiling, pleased. Sydney tried to smother her own answering smile and knew she was unsuccessful. "Plans for tonight?" he asked, his eyes intent on her.

Sydney let her eyes trail slowly down the length of his body, taking in the soft cashmere sweater that covered strong arms, and the tan pants that hid strong legs and his artefact. "My place after work?"

Saturday dawned cold and bright, predawn light reflecting off the previously fallen snow through the frosted windows. Sydney simply snuggled further into her cocoon of sheets and the warm body in front of her. One of her arms was tucked in front of her while the other was slung over Nigel's chest and judging by the feel of fingers between hers, was trapped against Nigel's chest with his own arm. Their legs tangled together, white sheets twining through them. She pressed first her unbelievably cold nose to the back of his neck, then her lips in apology. As Nigel shifted indicating he was awake, her lips drew into a smile she was sure he could feel. She used her free thumb to lightly stroke against his chest, close to his nipple. A second later Nigel rolled over and there was some shifting and untangling of legs until Sydney was on her back, Nigel a heavy but warm and welcome weight on top.

"What time is it?"

"Half seven." Nigel had been on the side with the alarm clock on the bedside table.

"We should get up," Sydney said half-heartedly. While she was excited to see his reaction to getting a Christmas tree, the morning was peaceful and quiet with no one threatening to kill them, race them to the relic, or coming after her for budget talks.

"'m not moving," Nigel mumbled into her hair, his breath tickling her ear. In that moment Sydney could only agree.

She ran her fingers through Nigel's hair, feeling the silky strands slide through her fingers. The shorter haircut suited him. The longer waves had given him a boyish innocence that had reflected his life – quiet, unassuming, youthful, and more suited to pouring over book in a library than hiking through a jungle. The shorter hair – usually messy and spiked from his continued habit of running his hands through it – made him look older, more confident, more worldly. In any event, he didn't tend to use a lot of products in his hair and she delighted in stroking her fingers through it, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. More often than not, the caresses soothed him to sleep as it did now.

Nigel's snores, familiar and comforting while irritating directly in her ear, mixed with the coziness of their position and knowledge that they had no rush to be anywhere began to lull her back to sleep. It was only the sudden rumbling of Nigel's stomach that prevented her from drifting off as it made her giggle. She poked Nigel in the sides, disturbing his sleep and causing him to grab her at her wrists and pin them to the bed. Despite knowing she could easily break out of his grip, there was something enticing about their position – his grip and his body both solid and demanding, and a hazy memory of a necklace at her throat and Nigel's commanding tone, 'Do it again –'

"Sydney," he all but whined in her ear.

She snapped back into the moment, finding his eyes on hers, searching her face. Sydney cleared her throat. "Come on, there's somewhere I want to go."

"You really want to get up, and get out of this bed?" Nigel pressed slightly chapped lips to the underside of her jaw. Automatically she turned her head to give him better access.

"Yes, and I think you'll enjoy it."

"Hmm." He kissed a line up her jaw to her ear. "I'm really enjoying this." He tugged at the sensitive skin just under her ear with his teeth, licking to soothe immediately after. The sensation of his mouth travelled down her body, and she was suddenly acutely aware that they were both naked. She let out an involuntary moan that she quickly tried to tamp down. If they went down this path they'd never get out to look at trees.

"We can get breakfast from the diner on James. You can get those pancakes you really like." Her words were punctuated with another rumble from Nigel's stomach as if in agreement. A mischievous smile pulled at her lips as he pulled back to look at her. "And you could use the fuel after last night," she teased him, pleased when he blushed.

In one swift move she flipped them so she was on top, the sheets falling to pool at her waist leaving her bare skin exposed. Ignoring the cool air inflicting goosebumps across her skin and hardening her nipples, she leaned down and bracing herself with her hands on the pillow beside Nigel's head with his hands still around her wrists, she kissed him hungrily. His lips opened easily under hers and she teased him briefly with her tongue before she abruptly withdrew. As she climbed off of him and headed towards the shower she smiled at hearing his huff of frustration.

Two hours later they pulled into the tree lot, finding parking amidst a throng of other vehicles. Her shower had been interrupted by her miffed boyfriend and breakfast had taken longer than usual, the waitress doting on Nigel and bringing him extra food and coffee and distracting him from eating by flirting with him. Sydney might have been more jealous if not for the way Nigel was obviously paying only enough attention to the waitress to remain polite while focused on his food and running fingers not holding his fork absently along her exposed wrist while she toyed with the creamer cups on the table.

She looked over at Nigel to see him gazing out the windshield and at the trees dotting the landscape in front of them, beyond the other vehicles and people.

"Syd," he started hesitantly, "are we actually here to get a tree?"

"Why else would we be here?" She couldn't quite decipher the look on his face. In the pause that followed she began to think that maybe she had made the wrong decision, or should've talked to him first.

"I…" Suddenly he broke out into a huge grin, and turning to her he pulled her into a sudden kiss. She could taste the blueberries and coffee from his breakfast, his lips sticky from the syrup he had poured over his pancakes. "This is brilliant!" he told her. He kissed her again briefly and then moved to get out of the car, brimming with energy and excitement.

Sydney followed quickly, smiling, his enthusiasm contagious. She caught up to Nigel who was all ready making his way towards the trees, and he immediately took her hand in his and all but pulled her along with him. She went willingly, relieved that he was excited about getting a real tree.

"Mum used to look for the trees that were a little bit rougher. As though they'd been beaten up. Said they needed the most love. Preston used to get into all sorts of arguments with her. He wanted the biggest tree he could find." Nigel stopped to run his fingers along the boughs of a pine tree, needles dropping to the ground as he did.

"What did your dad look for?" Drunk Nigel's story had been a bit all over the place and vague, and sober and happy Nigel was filling in missing gaps.

"He always said we had to go to the very back where nobody else was going go first."

"And you?"

"I always wanted one that was strong enough to hold all the decorations, but it had to be roomy enough for lights to shine through too, and not so busy at the bottom."

Nigel pulled her along, deeper and deeper into the trees, the crowd thinning as they went. As they wound their way through Nigel dismissed each one – too fat, too skinny, too short, too tall, not strong enough, branches too close together, not green enough, too green.

Sydney felt her arm almost wrench out of its socket as Nigel suddenly stopped, gazing at a tree.

"This is it?" she asked, joining him to stare at it. It certainly looked strong enough to hold decorations. There was space at the bottom so gifts could be stored underneath, and she could easily see how lights could be strung around it. Sydney couldn't quite make out what made this tree the perfect green compared to others, but if Nigel was happy she was happy.

"Yeah. Syd it's perfect." Nigel stared at it happily for a minute before his face dropped. He turned to her. "Syd, where the hell are we going to put it? I know I have a ton of space in my flat without furniture but you know the landlord's rules about large plants. And I don't know about you but I don't have any decorations or lights – it wasn't something I thought about bringing from England, you know? So Preston has them and –"

"Nigel!" Sydney cut him off. She placed her hands on his shoulders to settle him, although her voice seemed to have done that all ready. "I have space at my place, and a box of my dad's decorations in my attic. Lights too. And if there aren't enough or they don't work, we can get more. All we need to do is buy a stand, which they sell here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

After Sydney measured the tree with the tape she brought in her pocket they approached one of the workers to arrange for the tree to be brought to the pick up area and went to get the car. Once brought around, they busily worked to wrap the tree in the tarp Sydney had thrown into the trunk and tied it to the roof of the car with the rope she had also brought with her. Stand in the trunk and tree on the roof, they made their way out of the lot. The drive home was slow, but Sydney was confident (after all, she had once driven a Chinese dragon's egg over rough terrain at high speed without blowing them up), and they made it with no problems.

Together they tugged the tree off the car and hefted it up the steps to Sydney's living room where Sydney waited with it while Nigel went to grab the stand, watching for Mafdet who wandered through their legs wondering what was happening. The tree would take up quite a bit of space in the living room, but it would be a welcome addition to the mostly white room that she had never really gotten around to decorating, not spending a lot of time at home herself.

"Got it," Nigel said, coming back into the room. He placed the stand in the corner Sydney had cleared previously and the two of them hefted the tree onto the stand, Nigel then supplying water and sugar he found in her kitchen. They unwrapped the tarp from the tree, pine needles and the heady pine scent filling the room.

Sydney looked over at Nigel and laughed; pine needles flecked his brown hair with green while also sticking to the material of his coat. "Oh Nige," she said, noting the affronted look on his face and smiling fondly. She moved to him and ran her still-gloved hands through his hair to dislodge the pine needles. He did the same, gently threading his fingers through her hair. His cheeks were still a light pink from wandering around outside, and he was sniffling slightly from the cold, as was she.

She couldn't believe that this was real sometimes. That the two of them could have woken up in bed together and gone out to get a Christmas tree, and she could kiss him (almost) whenever she wanted, and he was there through everything and allowed her to be her in every way – it was almost too much sometimes, overwhelming and unknown. It was only the absolute trust in him that prevented her from throwing every wall up to protect her from the utter vulnerability she felt with him. Feeling suddenly like she was getting too wrapped up in her feelings for the moment, she stepped back.

"The um, the boxes with the lights and decorations are over there," she gestured, pulling off her gloves and shrugging off her coat. Nigel did the same and as she hung up the coats and placed the gloves on the entry table, Nigel pulled the boxes in front of the couch and started untangling the strings of lights.

Miraculously the lights worked, luminescent when Nigel plugged them in to test them. They wound them around the tree, passing them to each other on either side, tucking the strands in among the branches. The next box contained silver and gold garland, which they wrapped around as well in the same manner of the lights, but careful not to cover them. As more pine needles fell, Sydney made a mental note to vacuum as soon as they were done before Mafdet ended up trekking them through the townhouse, or worse with any embedded in her paws.

Lights and garland done, Sydney knelt beside the boxes with Nigel crouching beside her. While she knew they were tree decorations, she hadn't really dug through them to see exactly what they were. What the two of them began to pull out were heavy glass ornaments of various colours and décor, wrapped in paper. Sydney shared a look with Nigel, one that wouldn't be amiss when they found a relic on a hunt. The other box had decorations made of wood, felt, and glass, again wrapped in paper.

"Sydney, these are..." Nigel held up a glass ball, dark green with a gold band around it. Even while he trailed off Sydney knew what he meant. "You said these were your dad's. Have you not used them?"

"No. We travelled too much." Sydney pulled out a small silver picture frame and turned it over. She stared at it, transfixed.

"Who is that?" Nigel asked, peering at the picture. She tilted it so he could see better.

"It's my mom," she said softly.

"She's beautiful."

"She was." Despite the years gone by, the holidays were still hard without her mom around. The sense of missing permeated the air, suffocating and oppressive. She looked up at Nigel, someone who would understand these feelings perfectly, the loss of his own parents keenly felt as well. He placed a comforting hand on her thigh and laid his head against hers.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." A pause. "Yeah."

"Come on, let's put that on the tree."

The two of them hung the rest of the decorations, good naturedly bickering about placement and who was in who's way as they worked, comfortable with each other.

"There, that's the last of them," Nigel said. The boxes on the floor were indeed empty of everything except the paper used to protect the ornaments. The two of them stepped back to admire their handywork. There was a mix of glass ornaments with wooden reindeer and snowmen and felt angels and candy canes. Glass snowflakes twisted, reflecting the garland behind it. A golden star sat on the top of the tree. No ornaments hung at the very bottom, both to avoid knocking them when reaching for presents and in the hopes that it wouldn't tempt Mafdet so much.

"It looks good."

"It's too early to turn the lights on though. We need to wait until it gets dark."

Sydney managed to keep from rolling her eyes. While they had been decorating it had started to snow and the day was darker all ready. Still, she could concede the point – the tree would definitely make a better first impression all lit up once it was the only light source.

"Suggestions?"

Nigel's stomach rumbled and he looked at her sheepishly. "Well, it's been hours!"

Sydney realized she was hungry as well. Breakfast at the diner had been hours ago at this point, and unlike Nigel, she hadn't eaten well beyond her limit due to flirtatious waitresses and a general love of food. They threw together a simple dinner, neither of them culinarily inclined. Sydney fed Mafdet her dinner and then the two of them cleaned up with Nigel doing dishes and Sydney drying them and putting them away before going back to the living room. The only light that of the streetlight coming in through the window and the light from the kitchen Sydney had left on, leaving the room mostly in darkness.

"Ready?" Nigel asked. His voice was bright with excitement, and the smile on his face contagious despite barely being able to see it.

"Ready."

Nigel plugged the lights in and came to stand beside her. The room was illuminated with the soft white glow. They had managed to wind the garland around without getting it too in the way of the lights, and they shone against the glass ornaments, light refracting around the room. The wooden ornaments took on the colours of the glass balls around them. The room felt warm and inviting and fresh, the smell of fresh pine having permeated the townhouse.

"It's perfect."

"Yeah."

Sydney looked over to see Nigel not looking at the tree, but at her and she self consciously folded her arms across her chest. The loud and physical aspect of a relationship she was fantastic at. The soft and emotional aspect was where she floundered, always had.

Nigel tugged at her arm to pull her closer, and automatically she uncrossed her arms to loop them around his neck instead.

"Thank you," Nigel said, sliding an arm around her waist, drawing her even closer until there was no room left between them. His gaze was earnest. "You brought back a lot of good memories today that I didn't even realize I had. Of my mum and dad especially." His other hand cupped her face and he dragged his thumb across her cheek. The touch was like an electric current, kickstarting her heart into a frenzy of staccato beats. She didn't understand how he was able to get under her skin like he did, unlike anyone else before him.

Her eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her. She melted into him, the kiss unhurried and gentle and full of promise. Just as the kiss was about to teeter over the edge into something raw and frantic, Nigel broke it, the two of them breathless. When Sydney opened her eyes it was to find Nigel's concentrated on hers, with the most intense look she'd ever seen.

"I love you," Nigel said for the first time. At once Sydney felt hot and cold at the same time, feverish and high. "I've loved you since the moment I saw you, dancing to the tribal music, throwing a spear at my head." Through a haze she realized his tone was teasing at the end, halting her from arguing about her sense of aim. Her heart felt like it was going a mile a minute while sitting in her throat, in her ears, making it hard to focus on anything after I love you.

It hadn't been like this with Grey; when he told her he loved her she had been happy, elated even, but it was as though it had been scripted, like she knew that's how she should feel. It had been comfortable and fun with him on the surface. She'd never felt any desire to say it back though, and so she hadn't. With other men, too, who had thought they'd broken down barriers and walls, who said those three words with what felt to her like reckless abandon. Never truly meaning them, using them as a means to an end. If her relationships made it to that point, they tended to end shortly after that declaration. She could recognize it for what it was. A plea, a last ditch attempt to 'win', to be the one to make her settle down, to stay at home, to learn how to make beef stroganoff. This felt like nothing she'd experienced before.

Once she'd opened her eyes (metaphorically speaking) to see her teaching assistant as more than a teaching assistant, she'd known subconsciously perhaps that Nigel loved her. It was in every word he spoke, every action. It was in his loyalty, his trustworthiness, his trust in her, his belief in her as he followed her around the globe into dangerous situation after dangerous situation. Maybe that was why she had allowed the relationship to progress with her best friend, with someone she didn't ever want to lose.

"I love your passion, your intensity, your devotion, how much you care. Your intelligence, your morals, your determination, your heart, your fearlessness." He swiped his thumb across her cheek again and she blinked at the streak of wetness. When had she started crying? "I – I – I just… I love you. I couldn't hold it back anymore, I had to say it. After this, after what you planned and did today, I had to… had to tell you."

"I –" She stopped. She didn't know what to say. What the hell was she supposed to say to that? Anything she could say would just be small and insignificant. Of all the ways that she was expecting today to go, this wasn't one of them. This was different and didn't feel like a plea at all. This wasn't a 'win' for him. He wasn't extracting a promise she couldn't keep. He knew that she wouldn't give up relic hunting, couldn't give it up. He didn't stay at home and moan about how she was never there because he was too busy going with her. He shared in her excitement and successes and her failures, allowed her to be who she was, even while curbing her taste for revenge against De Viega. This was a statement, for her to know and to do with what she would. Even as she dithered with a response he waited patiently, no expectation on his face.

She hadn't been able to tear her eyes away from him ever since he had spoken those words, couldn't move. The realization that it was fear holding her in place hit her like a ton of bricks. Not fear of him, but of him leaving for some reason, of him deciding she was too much. Or of saying the wrong thing, making the wrong move. But the right one? It wasn't a question of love – she loved him, she knew that. She only needed to think of the times he disappeared, the times she thought he was dead, or the icy cold grip around her heart at seeing him in imminent danger – a gun pointed to his head. She could also think of how happy she was waking up next to him in the morning, at having him beside her on a plane, or with her when she didn't know what to do.

Words couldn't express what she needed them to, mostly because she couldn't force the air out of her lungs or her vocal chords to make the sounds. Instead, she tugged him back to her, kissing him with as much fervour as she could, pressing herself to him in the hopes that he'd understand. Yet, it wasn't enough. It didn't quite say what she wanted it to. It left too much ambiguity. If she were grading this as a paper she'd comment Be precise because sometimes things needed to be spelled out. She broke away from him just long enough to say exactly what she needed to say, the words suddenly easy and enough.

"I love you too."