The Greens of Jericho

Christmas In Bizarro World by Marzee Doats


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Johnston had figured it out while they were getting ready to go to Black Jack.  He'd been helping Jake load salt into the back of the car when Heather had approached them and had launched into a long list of reasons why she should come along, and as Johnston had listened to the two of them argue it had occurred to him that they argued like a couple.  Jake had already complained to him once that Heather was angling to come along, and then when she'd told Jake that it wouldn't be a date, Johnston had decided that he sure as hell didn't belong there at that moment.  He'd beaten a hasty retreat.

That night he'd confided his suspicions to Gail and she'd smiled, telling him that Jake and Heather were dating, she was fairly certain, and wasn't it good news?  The next morning he'd heard Jake up extremely early, and then he'd heard him leave the house.  When he'd finally forced himself out of bed - still well before dawn - and had gone downstairs to find a bit of breakfast or at least make himself something warm to drink, he'd walked in on them kissing - kissing! - in his kitchen!  It had been an awkward moment, with Heather blushing - Johnston too, if he was being honest with himself - and Jake clearly annoyed.  Heather had put herself to work brewing tea while Johnston had found himself trying very hard to avoid both of their gazes.  He'd been more than grateful when it had finally been time to go pick up Dale from the market.

At Black Jack, Jake had hardly left Heather's side and more than once Johnston had seen his son reach for her hand, only to think better of it at the last second.  Then, when they'd parted from the New Bern contingent and Heather had hugged Ted - her childhood friend - goodbye, Jake had scowled at the younger man, apparently for holding on too tightly, or for too long, or - most likely - for both.  Back in Jericho, Jake had driven his father home, and he and Heather had even come into the house for a few minutes at Gail's insistence.  But Heather had been tired and Jake had been quick to suggest that he should drive her home.  Closing the door behind them, Johnston had turned to face his grinning wife and had proclaimed, "Good Lord, they really are dating." 

April had figured it out the morning after Jake's accident when they'd just managed to get him warm enough that it had been safe to let him fall into an exhausted sleep.  She'd been headed up to bed herself when someone had pounded frantically on the door - it hadn't even turned seven yet - and she'd answered it, only to find Heather, obviously upset, on the other side.  She'd barely been able to get out her question as to whether or not Jake was okay and then had rambled on about how she'd run into Jimmy and he'd told her what had happened, and was Jake really okay? 

Gail had come to the door then and she'd hugged Heather before directing her into the living room to check up on Jake for herself.  Surprised by, and curious about, Heather's discomposure, April had followed her mother-in-law and the younger woman into the other room, where Heather had fallen to her knees beside the couch they'd established Jake on, clutching his hand and making inarticulate, worried noises.  In turn, Jake had cupped Heather's head with his trembling free hand, croaking out her name.  He'd untucked the blanket he'd been wrapped in, patting the couch cushion in silent invitation.  Immediately, Heather had lain down, spooning with him.  In turn, Jake had pressed a kiss to the back of Heather's head, folding himself around her, both of them crooning words of comfort to one another.

Eyes wide, April had allowed her mother-in-law to lead her from the room.  "Are they...?"

"They are," Gail had confirmed, smiling.

Stanley had figured it out the day the Marines - later proven to be as phony as a three dollar bill - had come to town.  It had been three days since their ill-fated hunting trip and he and Mimi had come to town early - too early, really - to check on Jake, but had been distracted by all the commotion surrounding the Marines' arrival.  All of a sudden though, Jake had been there, still looking a little worse for wear, but in good enough spirits at least to tease Stanley and Mimi, telling them to get a room.  And then, even more suddenly, Heather had been there, just as excited as the rest of them.  She'd slipped under Jake's arm as if it was the most natural thing to do, and squeezed his gloved hand, asking softly how he was feeling today.  He'd grinned in response, saying "Better now that you're here, babe," before kissing her.

With everyone too busy celebrating the good news that finally - finally! - help had arrived, their kiss had gone unnoticed by most in the crowd, but it didn't go unnoticed by Mimi and Stanley.  Laughing and smiling, they had turned the tables on Jake, advising in unison, "Get a room!"  Heather had blushed of course, but she hadn't let go of Jake, and she hadn't blinked as she'd met Stanley's appraising and questioning look.  "So, you two?" he'd chuckled, shaking his head.  "Really?"

Jake had pressed another quick kiss to Heather's lips before nodding in affirmation.  "Yep," he'd answered, "Really."

Eric had figured it out later that day when Jake had stood with Heather, holding her hand tightly in his own, as the two of them had hurriedly explained their suspicions about the Marine unit.  He'd been summoned to Gray's office from the bar where Mary had kissed him goodbye, and laughing, had made a cryptic remark about Jake and Heather having been in earlier in the day, and how they had been acting weird - but weren't they always, these days?  When he'd asked what she'd meant, Mary had answered that he'd see.  And, he had seen. 

Gray naturally hadn't wanted to believe that there was anything off about the Marines, and had derided Heather as a mere school teacher when she'd tried to explain her suspicions about their broken radio.  It was broken all right, she'd agreed, but too cleanly, like it had been broken on purpose.  If Eric had had any doubts about the changed nature of his brother's relationship with Heather - and by that point he hadn't - then the vehement defense Jake had mounted on her behalf would have banished them.  Jake had looked more than ready to deck Gray if he'd even breathed in Heather's direction, and probably would have if Johnston hadn't intervened, suggesting that the mayor keep Gunnery Sergeant Hill busy while the rest of them worked to gather more evidence. 

The confirmation of the fraud that had been perpetuated against Jericho and countless other towns before them had been a blow to be sure, and the burden of the cover-up, the 'X' factor - as his father had dubbed it - that would get them through the winter had weighed heavily on Eric.  He'd been very much out of sorts that night as he and Mary had gotten ready for bed, and as he'd listened to her talk excitedly about how the worst of everything had to be over now.  Sworn to secrecy, he hadn't been able to tell her the truth and had ended up snapping at her when she began outlining her plans for getting Bailey's fully operational once more.  Eric had apologized immediately of course - to the bathroom door, which she'd slammed loudly in his face - and later, laying tangled together in bed after they'd made up, Mary had kissed his shoulder, asking, "So Jake and Heather?"

"Oh, yeah," Eric had agreed, rolling toward her.

The rest of Jericho - those who hadn't already guessed - figured it out on Christmas Eve, when Heather Lisinski joined the Greens at church, sitting between Johnston and Jake - his arm around her - for the service of lessons and carols. 

* * * * *

Christmas Eve morning dawned bright, clear, crisp and cold.  Jake was up long before anyone else in the house would have expected, given that he'd made it well known to them that he was taking the holiday off and wouldn't be back on duty with the border patrol until Christmas Day night.  April's expression was one of complete - if groggy - astonishment when she passed him in the hallway, fresh from his shower.  Yawning, she asked if he'd left her any hot water, a bad joke to be sure, as it had been well over two months since they'd had anything other than ice water for bathing.  But Jake just grinned and told her, sorry, but the guy before him must have used it all up. 

In the kitchen, ten minutes later, Johnston raised an eyebrow, peering at his son over the rim of his coffee cup, inquiring as to the source of his cheerful mood.  "Heather," Johnston guessed a beat later, taking Jake by surprise.  He knew of course that his father was aware of their relationship, but Johnston hadn't brought it up with Jake even once, despite Heather's semi-regular presence at their dinner table over the past few weeks, and despite having walked in on them in a clinch more than once.  "Don't mess it up," he advised Jake, pouring him a cup of coffee.  At an earlier point in his life, Jake would have only heard the censure in his father's gruff voice, but now he heard more; he heard concern, approval, and - most amazingly - acceptance.  "I like her," Johnston continued, "She's smart and she doesn't try to hide it.  Not bad to look at either." 

Jake's agreement was wholehearted - though he thought of Heather as beautiful rather than just 'not bad to look at' - and grinning at his father, he finished off his coffee, grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, and whistling - whistling? Johnston shook his head in amazement - headed for the door.  

Fifteen minutes later, he was knocking on Heather's door.  She answered wearing blue flannel pajamas printed with little, alternating Christmas trees, Santas, and snowmen.  They were quite possibly the kitschiest thing Jake had ever seen and they were much too big on Heather, completely swallowing her small frame, but he couldn't help but grin, thinking to himself that they were cute too, and exactly what he'd expect her to wear on Christmas.  After all, she had confided to him her love of all things flannel - pajamas and sheets and shirts.  So now if he dressed like a lumberjack - her words - a little more often, knowing that she wouldn't be able to resist resting her cheek on his chest, over his heart and against the soft, fuzzy fabric, who could blame him?

She expressed her surprise at his presence - her surprise that he was awake - and, with a sheepish grin, admitted that she'd just gotten up herself.  Tugging on his hand, Heather pulled Jake into the apartment which was reasonably warm, thanks to the small wood-burning stove Jimmy's brother-in-law - Heather's landlord - had installed a few years before, after an ice storm had knocked out electrical power and with it her heat, for nearly two weeks.  "Merry Christmas, Jake," she proclaimed happily, standing on tiptoe to press her mouth to his.

Soon, divested of his coat, Jake found himself cuddled with Heather in the nest of blankets that had built up on one end of the couch as the weather had grown colder.  They shared a mug of hot cocoa, complete with mini-marshmallows - she'd been saving them for a special occasion - and a bowl of rice she had doctored with nutmeg and cinnamon for her breakfast.  The meal was small, as were all their meals these days, but at least it was hot, and warmed by the food, the fire, and the woman snuggled against his side, Jake figured he could easily - happily - spend the rest of the day right where he was.  "This is nice," Heather murmured, laying her cheek against his chest, over his heart. 

He signaled his agreement by kissing her, and then kissing her again.  Jake could've gone on like that all morning, but soon Heather pulled away, her fingers still clutched in the fabric of his flannel (naturally) shirt, to ask when he'd have to leave.  He was always on his way somewhere after all, and she, although no longer teaching - one of Gray Anderson's first accomplishments as mayor had been to strong arm the school board into closing the schools - was constantly busy, quietly helping out somewhere, her contributions to the town largely unsung.  Heather could always find something that needed to be done, whether it was helping to manufacture biodiesel at the town corporation yard, or affecting what repairs she could manage - given their limited supplies - at the clinic.  As a result, their time together was limited, often coming in no more than ten minute snatches, so that even an uninterrupted hour together was to be treasured.  In fact, in the past month, the longest continuous period they had spent with one another was during the trip to Black Jack; the longest period they'd been together alone had been the five and a half hours Heather had 'looked after' Jake on the second day of his recovery after the accident - as they euphemistically referred to his encounter with highway robbers - when everyone else in his house had come up with something else to do for the afternoon.

A smile bloomed on her face as he explained that he was off duty until the following evening, and that his plan was to spend the whole day  - two days, actually - with her, if she was agreeable.  It turned out she was.  Heather never demanded his attention, and she didn't resent the time he spent away from her, which had confounded Jake at first - and still did, to a certain extent.  He had never been in a relationship where there wasn't a level of jealousy and mistrust, and more than once he'd wanted to argue the point.  But Heather had laughed at him the one time he'd brought it up, making a face and telling him to remember Thanksgiving, and to not try and make her into a saint.  Jericho needed him, and being jealous of, or angry about, the town's demands upon his time wasn't going to get her anywhere, she'd argued, so she'd deal with sometimes having to play second fiddle.  At that, Jake had found himself irritated on her behalf, thinking she should resent coming second - as much as he resented having to make her second - but then Bill, in desperate need of Jake's help, had tracked them down in the corner of town hall they'd snuck off to, and so Heather had kissed him goodbye and sent him along with the deputy.

It was for all these reasons - not to mention his own desire to spend some time together as a couple - that Jake had arranged to have forty solid hours off from his border patrol duties.  Sure, they would get him if there was an emergency, but he'd made it clear to Jimmy and to Bill that any emergency had better be pretty damn big.  No matter how remote the possibility, Jake didn't want a repeat of Thanksgiving.  He and Heather had grown closer over the intervening month, and he relied - perhaps, too much - on knowing she was always there, waiting for him, wanting to be with him during those rare moments of downtime.  So for Christmas, along with the present that sat wrapped - and badly - on his dresser at home, Jake had decided to put Heather first.

"So, how would you feel about coming with me to get a Christmas tree?" he asked, lacing their fingers together.  He went on to explain that, during the preceding week and on separate occasions, both his mother and April had expressed a desire for a tree, for one 'normal' thing about this Christmas, and anyway, he added, it would be fun to go out to the ranch, just the two of them, to find a tree and cut it down.

Grinning, Heather cracked a joke about lumberjacks and then immediately agreed to the plan, though she cautioned Jake that she had never, ever - not even once - cut down a tree.  Her parents had originally been from Chicago, she reminded him, kissing the corner of his mouth, and even living in New Bern, the Lisinskis had always purchased their tree 'pre-cut' at the lot downtown, across from city hall.  She was game though, and she even insisted that they should take Charlotte, and could he just give her a half hour to shower and change - okay? - and she'd be ready to go.

Heather had gone off to get ready then and fifteen minutes later, looking up from the six month old National Geographic he'd been perusing, Jake had caught a glimpse of her, in her bathrobe, as she'd dashed from the bathroom to her bedroom.  She reappeared officially another five minutes later, dressed in jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt layered over a white turtleneck.  She inquired, teasing, if she looked like a lumberjack, and he told her not really, she was rather pretty for a lumberjack, but he'd still let her take her turn with the saw later.  Sitting in front of the stove to dry her hair, Heather grinned in return as she pulled on wool socks and then laced her hiking boots.

In another twenty minutes they were on the road, Heather driving.  Standing in the driveway, she'd offered the keys to Jake but, backing her into the truck's driver's side door, he'd kissed her thoroughly and turned her down.  Coming out his backdoor, Dave, her landlord - not that she'd paid rent in three months - had caught them, and laughing, he'd waved, calling out 'Merry Christmas!'   Jake and Heather had returned the greetings, and then Jake had opened her door for her, handing her into the truck.  Now, on route to the ranch, and having crossed the town line - not that traffic was a real issue in Jericho anymore - Heather reached across the seat for his hand, intertwining their fingers.  He scooted closer, freeing his left hand from hers - but giving her his right one - so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders.

At the ranch, Jake had her stop at the house but they didn't bother to go in except to get a saw, some rope, and a sled from the garage.  The sled was for hauling the tree to the truck, Jake told Heather, but seeing the flash of disappointment which crossed her face, he decided that, maybe, they could stop at Daley's Hill on their way back to town and give it a try, though he admitted it had been an awfully long time since he'd been on a sled, and he'd been at least six inches shorter.  Back on the rutted ranch road, they bumped their way slowly along, until they reached the very end where there wasn't any gravel left, just frozen mud starting to thaw some in the morning sun.  Jake kissed her once inside the cab, and then again after they'd both climbed out, intent on keeping his promise of the previous month to 'kiss her more'.  Heather noted this, and expressed her appreciation for his efforts in a like manner.

Pulling their supplies from the truck, Jake pointed out their destination, a small stand of pine trees barely visible at the far end of the - mostly - snow covered field.  The third snowstorm of the season had blown in two nights previously blanketing the town and surrounding area in white.  The snow had melted away in a few places, but mostly it had stuck, reminding both Jake and Heather of the grim forecast of 'the worst winter in decades' that they'd seen at Black Jack.  When the storm had hit - ominously on the first day of winter, according to the calendar - Jake had been on duty out at the Tacoma bridge checkpoint, and at first light the next morning he'd hurried over to Heather's to make sure she was okay.  In turn, she'd been on her way out, headed for the church to volunteer with the refugees or wherever else Reverend Young needed her.  She'd admitted her relief at seeing that he was okay, confessing that she'd planned to stop in at the sheriff's office to ask Bill or Jimmy if they knew how the men at the checkpoints had fared overnight.    

He'd walked her over, the new snow crunching under their feet, somehow managing to hold onto her hand despite the bulky gloves they'd both been wearing.  Parting with Heather at the church's main door - and with a chaste kiss that would just have to hold him, she'd teased - Jake had turned around and gone home to eat and sleep before his next shift.  It had been the last time he'd seen Heather prior to this morning, another in their series of stolen moments together that were quickly becoming not enough.

This morning, as they once again tromped through the snow, Jake pulling the sled, they didn't bother with talking, happy just to be in one another's presence.  Reaching their destination, Jake broke the easy silence, pointing to the first tree and asking if she thought it was good.  Although Heather had never cut down a Christmas tree before this fact did not prevent her from having an opinion on what a good tree looked like, and she rejected Jake's suggestion immediately, deeming it to be crooked and asymmetrical in the extreme.  She examined and eliminated at least ten trees before finally settling on one that she decided would do.

Back at Charlotte, Heather helped Jake get the tree off the sled and into the truck's bed.  Working on tying it down, he didn't notice that she'd slipped away until she nailed him in the back of the head with one very wet snowball.  As far as Jake was concerned the war was on and he was taking no prisoners.  It turned out Heather - as he informed her quite smugly at one point - threw like a girl, and most of her success with her first volley was attributable to the surprise nature of her attack.  He, on the other hand, had pitched varsity baseball for four years in high school and had always been a rather good snowballer.  Losing badly, Heather made one last, desperate move, running at Jake and tackling him into the snow bank he'd declared to be his 'ammunition dump'. 

Jake landed with a teeth jarring thud but he also landed with Heather on top of him, and that at least he didn't mind so much, especially when she proceeded to kiss him quite thoroughly.  Thus distracted, Jake didn't realize that she was making one last sneak attack until a handful of snow was shoved down the back of his shirt.  Struggling to a sitting position, he let out an indignant and undignified yelp, trying with only some success to shake the snow out of his clothes. 

Brushing her gloves clean, Heather scrambled to her feet and peered down at him a triumphant grin on her face.  "Well, you know what they say," she giggled, "All's fair in love and war."
 
"Yeah," he snorted, surprising Heather by grabbing her hand and pulling her down onto his lap.  "And this definitely qualifies as both," Jake informed her, bringing his mouth down on top of hers.

In the truck and on their way back to town, out of the corner of her eye, Heather caught sight of Jake shifting uncomfortably in his seat.  They had declared the snowball fight a draw, which was generous of Jake considering he'd actually been winning, and also that he'd ended up covered in a lot more snow than she had.  His jeans and shirt were soaked, she realized frowning to herself, and even his hair was wet.  Belatedly, she recalled that he'd been near hypothermia not two weeks before.  Reaching for his hand, Heather squeezed it, apologizing and fretting over the chances he'd catch cold.  Jake dismissed her worries - as she'd known he would - but neither of them mentioned stopping to sled as they passed the turn off to Daley's Hill.

At the Green house, Jake sent Heather in to get his father though Gail and April hurried out as well, both exclaiming over the tree and how surprised they were, and thank you!  They both hugged him and kissed his cheek which Jake endured manfully.  Inside, Heather fussed at him to go upstairs and change out of his wet clothes, prompting amused smiles from his mother and sister-in-law, who both immediately added their voices to hers.  Jake gave in gracefully and, after giving Heather a kiss that the other three pretended not to see, headed up to his room.

When he came back down a few minutes later, Heather was helping Johnston wrestle the tree into the stand while she regaled Gail and April with the tale of their expedition, taking care to point out that Jake had wanted to cut down the first lopsided tree he'd seen, but that she'd held out for this one.  "Well, it's absolutely the perfect tree, Heather," his mother declared, beaming in the younger woman's direction.  "You will stay to help us decorate, won't you?" she invited.

Johnston, who was dispatched along with Jake to retrieve boxes of ornaments from the basement, deemed it a bonus that they didn't need to put lights on the tree this year, grumbling about how the strings always got tangled no matter how careful he was putting them away, and - oh! - how there was always that one string which stopped working as soon as he got it on the tree and then took hours to troubleshoot.  Yes indeed, Johnston assured Heather, completely missing the half amused, half annoyed look his wife shot in his direction, there were a few benefits to life without electricity.  Heather laughed appreciatively, but then informed Johnston that next Christmas, if she had anything to do with it, he'd be fighting with the light strings again.  Remembering with whom he was speaking - Heather was still hoping to build windmills and had even gone to check out the operations in New Bern with Eric and Harry Carmichael the week before - Johnston stammered out an apology, which she waved off as unnecessary.

Jake watched and listened as his father continued to converse easily and eagerly with Heather, not quite sure what to make of the situation.  Johnston was a politician after all, and he knew how to give a speech as well as carry on a conversation.  His father had never been as silent - as taciturn - as Jake now realized he'd talked himself into believing the older man to be.  Those silences - the unspoken and hurt feelings - that had existed between the two of them for so long were not actually inherent to Johnston's nature, but then again, neither was his current gregarious verbosity.  Johnston and Heather were laughing together at something now - what exactly, Jake had missed, lost in his own thoughts - and glancing at his mother, he caught her smiling.  April, he realized, was smiling too, as she worked the top off a box of his maternal grandmother's heirloom hand-painted blown glass ornaments.  It was then that Jake recalled the first Christmas that Eric had brought April home to meet the family, before they were even engaged.  His father and grandfather had fallen all over themselves, telling jokes and stories, practically flirting with her as they'd both competed for her attention.  And now, here was Johnston doing the same with Heather.  Looking up from her task, April grinned at Jake, chuckling softly as she took in his partially astounded and partially horrified expression.

The three women were soon busy decorating the tree.  Johnston had appeared reluctant to lose Heather's attention but had given in mostly gracefully when his wife had wrapped an arm around the younger woman's shoulders, declaring her help vital to the tree decorating project.  Jake had found himself standing next to his father, shoulder to shoulder, in front of the fire as they observed the activity and - more importantly - stayed safely out of the way.  "Best just to let 'em have at it," Johnston observed quietly.  He chuckled softly and glanced sideways at his son.  "You sure picked a firecracker in that one," he said, his voice pitched low so only Jake could hear.

"She kinda picked me, actually," Jake muttered in return, surprising himself and his father with the confidence.  "I mean," he added, coughing nervously, "She made the first move."

Johnston answered with a grin.  "Nothin' wrong with that."  Jake smiled his agreement before abandoning the warmth of the fire when Gail requested that he 'come be tall' and put the star on the top of the tree.  Jake grumbled that the tree topper was supposed to be last, exasperating his mother, who demanded that he 'just do it already'.  In the end though, all it took was a smile and a 'please' from Heather, and he was pulling the ottoman over and climbing up on it to place the star at the top of the tree.

Assistance rendered, Jake drifted over to the couch.  Sitting back, he found himself smiling as his mother explained to Heather - and to a lesser extent, April - the history behind each ornament as she handed them off to be hung on the tree.  There were the ornaments inherited from Johnston's and Gail's mothers, ones that Jake and Eric had made in school as children, and others that Gail had collected over the years as mementoes from trips or special occasions.  Showing Heather a rather worn snowman made out of different-sized Styrofoam balls, pipe cleaners and sequins that had been used to give him a comically lopsided expression, Gail explained in rapturous detail how excited four year old Jake had been about the gift he'd made for her in Sunday school and how he'd presented it to her with such solemn ceremony.  Heather and April both let out a heartfelt 'awww!' and then burst into giggles.  Gail handed the snowman over to Heather, who in return consulted with the other two to determine the perfect place to hang it.

More ornaments went up on the tree.  The clothespin reindeer that Eric had made in the first grade; the wooden wreath commemorating their trip to Yellowstone when Jake was ten; a pair of hand-sewn felt mice dressed as Santa and Mrs. Claus which Johnston's mother had made for Gail the Christmas she'd been pregnant with Jake.  In one of the cartons, April found the Christmas Cottage music box that Johnston had sent home to Gail from Vietnam the first Christmas after they'd been married.   Its song was I'll Be Home For Christmas and though the EMP shouldn't have affected it, they still all held their breaths, waiting to see if the music box would play after she wound it.  Tears came to Gail's eyes when the little box emitted the first few tinny notes and smiling, she wiped them away as they all began to hum or sing along.

Jake was glad to see his mother and sister-in-law truly enjoying themselves for once - even if some of it was at his expense - and he was happier still to see how they welcomed and included Heather, and how well she fit in.  He'd brought Heather to dinner a couple of times a week since Thanksgiving, and his family had accepted her from the start but this was the first time they were all spending more than an hour or so together.  Laughing at something April had said, Heather glanced back at Jake, flashing him a grin which he returned.  She was just drinking up the chance to be a part of a family again, he realized, and his family was more than happy to adopt her as one of their own.

"You'll recognize this one," Gail said, holding up a long, thin ornament for Heather to see.

"My cinnamon stick Santa," Heather declared, surprise clearly evident in her tone.  "You kept it."

"Well, Johnston was more interested in the plate of cookies that came with it," Gail laughed.  "I'm pretty sure I got one spritz star, and then he had the rest.  But I thought this was beautiful work," she beamed at the younger woman.  Intrigued, Jake moved behind Heather, resting his hands on her shoulders, his expression questioning.  His mother's smile grew to include him and she continued.  "I wondered at first if you'd made it," she admitted, and Jake could understand her doubt.  The detailed work that had gone into the Santa's face, beard and cap was not inconsequential.  "I hadn't met you yet," Gail reminded, passing the ornament to the younger woman, "But Johnston was sure you'd done it yourself."

Heather let her head fall back against Jake's shoulder, holding the ornament up for him to see even closer.  It twirled on its string as she explained, "Your Dad gave my class a three hour tour of town hall a couple weeks before Christmas my first year in Jericho.  One kid tripped up the stairs and gave himself a bloody nose and broke his wrist," she groaned, shaking her head, "And another managed to lock himself and four hysterical girls into the holding cell for twenty minutes.  I figured bringing a plate of cookies and an ornament along when I dropped off our thank you notes was the least I could do."

"I remember that wrist!" April chuckled, shaking her head.  "Danny Keller.  Jimmy brought him and one of the parent chaperones down to the clinic in a squad car.  Made Danny's day."

"And that's why we couldn't get the kids outta the cell," Johnston interjected, moving over from the fire to join the conversation.  "Jimmy had the only key on him when he went down to the med center."

"Least I never did that at town hall when I was a kid," Jake snorted, pressing a kiss to the top of Heather's head.  "And when they were payin' you, they weren't payin' you enough," he groaned into her hair.

"Well, you're right on both counts," Johnston agreed. "Though," he snorted, giving in to the urge to roll his eyes, "I could write a book on everything you did manage to do at town hall over the years.  So," he continued a beat later, "Can we help you ladies out by helpin' out or should we just keep stayin' outta the way?"

Gail put them both to work hanging ornaments on the higher branches, though Jake seemed to find as many opportunities to touch Heather as he did to place ornaments on the tree under her direction.  In another fifteen minutes they were done.  Jake began to make noises about leaving then - not that he was very clear on where he and Heather were planning to go - but April proposed playing a game until it was time to eat and then leave for church.  Heather, an only child who had lost both her parents within nine weeks of each other four years before, was thoroughly enjoying the chance to be a part of a family again if only for a few hours.  She threw a hopeful look Jake's way, which was more than enough to convince him to stay awhile longer.  April went off to raid the hall closet for board games and cards, while Johnston went with Gail to prepare something warm for them all to drink.  Left alone in the living room, Heather kissed Jake, convincing him that they might as well stay for dinner with his family before attending church - which, she told him, she had to do anyway as she was the reader for the fifth lesson - but afterward, she assured him, tracing one finger down the middle of his chest, afterward they would spend the rest of the evening alone. 

April returned with a pile of games which Jake took from her.  Immediately, he eliminated Monopoly - too long and too boring - and Trivial Pursuit - Dad and Heather would just annoy the rest of them as they fought it out - leaving them to vote on Risk - which Gail nixed right away - Yahtzee and Uno.  Uno won.  Sitting down around the coffee table, Johnston, declaring that as the oldest he got to be dealer, doled seven cards out to each of them while Gail passed around mugs of peppermint tea and miniature candy canes, still wrapped in cellophane, which she insisted were only a year old and therefore still perfectly fine. 

Slurping on their candy canes, they started the game, which turned out to not be Heather's forte.  Within ten minutes she found herself with no less than twenty cards in her sticky hands - and with no one else holding more than ten.  Jake, to her left, played a 'Draw Four', leaving him with only two cards in his hand.   "Green," he declared, changing the color.

"You're really gonna make me draw four?" Heather squeaked, pouting at him.

Jake grinned, fighting the urge to kiss her.  Heather seemed to recognize the intent in his gaze and she pulled back, holding her cards against her chest as she eyed him suspiciously.  He tapped the 'Draw Four' card with one finger, shooting her an expectant look.  "Well, ya know, all's fair in Uno," he returned, earning chuckles from around the coffee table.

Grumbling, she took her four cards while Johnston, sitting on her right, studied his hand.  "Here ya go, Heather," he said, laying down a green 'Reverse' card.  "Let's see what you can do with that," he chortled.

Heather, it turned out, had her own 'Draw Four' card with which to exact some revenge, and for a split second she considered playing it.  But unfortunately, before they had started the game, April - her eyes on Jake the entire time - had read the rules aloud, wanting to 'refresh' all their memories.  The rules clearly stated that the 'Draw Four' card could only be used when a player didn't have any cards matching the color of the last card played, and with twenty seven cards in her hand, Heather counted eight that were green.  Burdened with both a strong sense of fair play and the complete lack of a poker face, Heather knew she had no hope of getting away with playing her 'Draw Four' and settled on a green 'Skip'.
"This work?" she asked Johnston, though it was Jake whom she watched closely as she played her card.

Resting his hand on her thigh for a moment - in complete view of his parents and sister-in-law, crowded around the coffee table as they were - Jake squeezed Heather's leg affectionately and shrugged off the slight, while April and Johnston took the opportunity to congratulate Heather on her move.  They continued to play.  Over the next few turns, they were all forced to take more cards, and eventually Heather was able to use her 'Draw Four', but against Johnston, not Jake, who took particular enjoyment in rubbing this fact in.  Gail, who played quietly and without engaging in any of the trash talk the other four indulged in, eventually won the round, earning ninety two points, nearly half from the cards left in Heather's hand.

Five more rounds were played before they all gave up and declared Gail the winner.  Not once but twice, Heather caught Jake with one card in his hand and having made no declaration of 'Uno', forcing him to draw additional cards.  By the third hand she was leaning against him, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her, while Johnston grumbled over the fact that she could see Jake's cards and vice versa.  He didn't stop until his wife, after hushing him repeatedly, kicked him - and April, too, accidentally - under the table.  Finally, when Gail won the fourth round in a row - Jake had managed to win the second hand - they all conceded the game in favor of eating dinner.

"So, how's your Chinese?" Jake asked Heather, holding up two half full bags of what were now known universally around Jericho as 'Chinese chips' - bags of snack food, all with a strong salty, seafood flavor.  "Guess we have to go by the pictures," he decided when she rolled her eyes at him.  "Do you want the green stripes and happy panda bear kind, or the yellow stripes and happy panda bear kind?" he asked, grinning gently as he shook both packages in her direction.  "And why are there happy pandas anywhere near fish snacks?"

Heather laughed appreciatively.  At the stove, Gail ladling up a bowl of dried fish and rice soup for April, exchanged a pleased smile with her daughter-in-law.  "I assume they're glad it's not them.  Or their bamboo," Heather answered.  "Or maybe, like the rest of us, they just can't get enough of the shrimp chips," she snorted.

"Well, see if you can figure out which ones are the oyster crackers," Johnston interjected dryly as he carried two bowls to the table, setting one at Heather's spot and the other at Jake's.  "You know, for the soup," he added, nodding at the table. 

"The happy green panda crackers," Heather decided, giggling, after a moment's contemplation.  "It's Christmassy - sort of - and besides I'm at the Greens," she smiled, reaching for the bag.  She and Jake then exchanged a quick kiss - one that was again studiously ignored by their companions - after which he returned the other package to the pantry. 

They sat down to dinner.  The meal wasn't large by any means, but it was hot, and they could all appreciate that.  Gail had taken to experimenting with spices to disguise some of the briny taste and the combination she'd used for this particular pot of soup was met with general acclaim, even from Heather who, having dined on some of the less successful batches, felt that she could offer an opinion.  Unfortunately, Gail admitted, allowing an aggravated chuckle, she wasn't exactly sure what she'd done, and she didn't know if she could duplicate the recipe.  Everyone groaned.

Heather was truly enjoying herself.  She had always liked the Greens, and these few hours spent with them - the way they treated her like a member of the family - had stripped away the last of her reserve.  Without thinking about it, she found herself sharing memories of some of her childhood Christmases.  They all laughed along with her as she told about her father 'helping' her build a trap for Santa Claus when she was six.  "Santa escaped, of course," Heather giggled, "And he left a note informing me that he was overlooking this one instance of naughtiness in an otherwise commendable year.  I was so annoyed when I got a little older and figured out that my Dad must've left the note." 

The stories continued to pour out of her as they all worked on their small meal, dipping the 'Chinese chips' into the soup to soften them.  Heather told them about the three story gingerbread house she'd planned in intricate detail and then had built at the age of thirteen.  Groaning, she also described the horror of discovering on Christmas Eve morning that an army of ants had attacked the gingerbread mansion - proudly displayed on the buffet in the dining room - overnight.  "There was this long, black trail, a straight shot running from the Christmas tree in the living room to the gingerbread house.  We used so much Raid that morning it made us sick to our stomachs," she groaned, earning sympathetic noises and kind smiles from the Greens.  "And then, the last Christmas before - before I lost my parents," she managed to get out in a rush of breath, "For some reason my mother decided that it was the year to teach me to make pie crust.  We'd been making cookies all day, and Dad kept sneaking in to steal pieces of dough and fingers of icing -"

"The best part!" Johnston insisted with a grin, setting his empty soup bowl aside.

"That's what my Dad always said," Heather agreed, chuckling.  "Anyway, we made umpteen dozen cookies and then four pies on top of that.  With just the three of us, we didn't eat anything but dessert for a week.  But at least I know how to make my mother's pie crust," Heather sighed.

Gail, already working to clear dishes off the table set them down and threw her arm around the back of Heather's chair pulling the younger woman into an impulsive if somewhat awkward hug.  "Well, I for one can't wait to try it.  Come spring, you'll have to get Jake to take you berry picking out at the ranch," Gail suggested.

"There're berries out at the ranch?" Jake inquired.  He managed to maintain a completely deadpan expression for about three seconds before a smirk fought its way onto his lips.  "Guess I maybe know where there's one or two patches we can check out," he admitted, finding Heather's hand and lacing their fingers together.  "'Specially for a nice big piece of berry pie.  So what time's church?"

"Twenty minutes!" Gail yelped after checking her watch.  "Everybody, move!"

* * * * *

Jake stood to let Heather, who had just completed her reading, back into the narrow pew.  Beaming at him brightly, she slipped past, their bodies brushing for one tantalizing second.  She quickly reseated herself on the bench next to him and, after exchanging a quick smile with Johnston, settled back against Jake, who immediately wrapped his arm around her.  A beat later, Reverend Young announced that the next carol would be We Three Kings, and they all climbed to their feet to sing.  Jake didn't know the words, really, and it was too dark in the sanctuary to read from the hymnal, so he settled for keeping his arm around Heather and humming in her ear. 

Reverend Young had scheduled the Christmas Eve service for four thirty in the afternoon in the hopes that more of the congregants who lived outside of the town limits - and for all intents and purposes outside the protection of the border patrol - would be able to attend.  The Greens and Heather had arrived at the church with only two minutes to spare.  Upon realizing that they were running late, Gail had shooed them all out of her kitchen, insisting that the clean up could wait for later.  She'd finally gotten them all into their coats and out onto the porch only to have Jake to remember that he'd left something upstairs that he couldn't leave without.  Johnston had been forced to hide a chuckle in a coughing fit as Jake deftly avoided his mother as she'd grabbed after him, ducking around Heather and April and getting into the house before Gail could stop him.  He'd returned within ninety seconds, zipping something into his jacket pocket and offering Heather his arm.  They had set out for the church, April walking between Gail and Johnston - for safety, in case there was ice on the sidewalk, her mother-in-law insisted. 

They had arrived at the church to find the sanctuary packed with people, despite the recent exodus - the third or fourth wave since the bombs - of another ten or fifteen families from Jericho, heading south in a desperate search for warmth and food.  Glancing around, Jake had recognized that a good quarter of those present were the refugees - still residents of the church basement - that Roger Hammond had brought to town.  He'd spotted Stanley and Mimi - but no Bonnie - standing off to one side and had managed to exchange waves with them both before - miraculously - half a pew had become available near the front of the church for the Greens.  Jake, nodding at his brother and Mary as he'd followed Heather past them and up the center aisle, had realized once again just how much influence his parents had in this town.

The service was over in less than an hour.  Heather was the final reader and Reverend Young - whom Jake remembered as being rather verbose - opted to keep his sermon short, dismissing them at twenty after.  Bonnie appeared finally, at the back of the church, with a basket of mini candy canes.  Robert Hawkins' daughter and two other teenage girls also took up stations at the doors to pass out candy, and Jake heard April tease his mother about the origins of these unexpected treats.  Gail allowed a guilty sounding twitter but admitted nothing.  It took awhile to exit the church as no one was going to leave without getting their candy - the kids were getting two candy canes each, the adults, only one - but finally Jake found himself outside with the three women, his father having followed after Eric and Mary to wish them both a 'Merry Christmas!'

 More to distract April than anything, Jake announced then that he and Heather were taking off.  Heather, recognizing what he was up to, played along, pulling April and then Gail into quick hugs, thanking them both for a lovely day.  They both thanked her in return, sighing happily over their Christmas tree once more, and reminding her that she would be joining them the next day for Christmas dinner.  "One o'clock sharp," Gail instructed, promising to work on duplicating that afternoon's soup recipe.  "I'm sure Jake will be happy to pick you up," she added, beaming at them both.  "Merry Christmas, Heather."

Jake and Heather hadn't taken three steps away from Gail and April before they ran into Emily Sullivan and Roger Hammond.  Every time Jake saw Roger the other man looked better; his chapped skin was mostly healed and he seemed to have come out of the stupor he'd been in when he'd first arrived home in Jericho.  Tonight his arm was wrapped comfortably around his fiancée as he greeted both Jake and Heather warmly, wishing them a 'Merry Christmas!'  Emily repeated the greeting and then, smiling brightly, stepped forward to throw her arms around Heather.  "It's so good to see you both," she claimed taking a step back, her glance flitting between Jake and Heather.  "Together, I mean," Emily added, chuckling nervously.  "You've been so busy, lately, Heather," she accused mildly, "We really need to catch up."

"Sure, of course," Heather agreed easily, though Jake noticed that she was biting her lip against something.  "We'll have to get together," she suggested, threading her arm through Jake's.  "Next week sometime.  I won't make you go on a hike or anything," she joked, "Or drink anything harder than say, tea."

"Tea, right," Emily replied, still smiling.  "Sounds great."

Stanley, accompanied by Mimi, came up alongside Heather.  He was sucking on his candy cane and made a loud slurping noise in order to express his appreciation for the treat.  "Hey, you two," he greeted Jake and Heather, completely ignoring Roger's and Emily's presence.  "Still together.  Excellent.  Any chance you wanna come over tonight?" he invited, biting off a chunk of peppermint and chewing it.  "We've got most of the fixin's for eggnog - well eggs and milk, anyway - and I found the old Twister game.  Could be a fun double date," he grinned.

"Sorry man," Jake answered, pulling Heather to him so that her back was pressed against his chest before looping both of his arms around her waist.  "We've got plans already, right, babe?" he asked, resting his chin on Heather's shoulder, his cheek against hers.

"Right," Heather agreed with a giggle.  She rotated around to face Stanley, dislodging Jake in the process, though she patted the side of his head in apology.  "But could we have a rain check?" she requested, "Maybe for New Year's Eve?"

"Good idea," Mimi interjected, "That'll give us time to get our hands on some more alcohol."  She glanced at Stanley who was now licking his sticky fingers clean, and shook her head.  "We don't have any sugar, so I'm just thinkin', your eggnog is gonna need the extra alcohol," she informed him.

One of the refugees came up to them then, requesting to speak with Roger privately.  He cast a less than friendly gaze over the rest of them, except for Heather, for whom he spared the slightest and grimmest of smiles.  "Merry Christmas, Heather," he muttered, turning away.

"Merry Christmas, Mark," Heather called after him, adding, "Merry Christmas Emily, Roger."

"Uh, Merry Christmas," Emily threw back over her shoulder, clinging to Roger's hand as he led her away after the other man. 

Stanley and Mimi, taking advantage of the other couple's exit, moved over to stand facing Jake and Heather.  "Interesting guy," Stanley muttered.

Jake tightened his arms around Heather.  "Friend of yours?" he inquired, the slightest hint of jealousy tingeing his voice.

"Yes," Heather answered, snickering softly.  She twisted around far enough that she could plant a kiss on Jake's chin, rolling her eyes at him.  "He's one of the leaders of the group, and he's a hard worker," she explained, her tone turning serious.  "He's also in mourning.  His wife and two year old son were in Denver."

Next to him, Stanley felt Mimi tense as she always did at references to the bombs which had decimated Denver, Washington DC, and so many other cities.  "So we're on for New Year's Eve?" he asked, wiping his sticky hand on his jeans once before he wrapped an arm around Mimi, slowly drawing her into a hug.  She fought him for just a second, but then allowed him to tuck her head against his chest.  "I'll make popcorn," he continued, rubbing her arm comfortingly, "And we can raid the spice rack, maybe make some ragin' Cajun popcorn, some five alarm chili popcorn, maybe some cinnamon popcorn.  Oh, I know!  Astronaut popcorn!"

"Astronaut popcorn?" Heather giggled.

"Uh-uh.  You're not putting Tang on popcorn," Mimi informed Stanley, sounding almost like her usual self.  She took a deep breath and then pulled away from him, though only long enough to sock him on the shoulder.

"Tang? On popcorn?" Heather asked, her nose wrinkling.  "How about hot cocoa instead?  I've got some instant packets left.  Mini-marshmallows, too."

Mimi declared that, for chocolate, Heather could be her new best friend, and then Stanley added that he'd be her best friend for marshmallows.  They continued to discuss plans for New Year's, and even Jake warmed to the idea of a small party but, pressing a kiss to the top of Heather's head, he informed his best friend that there was no way in hell he was ever playing group Twister.  Heather, in turn, said she was up for anything but Uno.  Finally Stanley - having spotted his sister standing much too close to Sean Henthorn for his comfort - decided it was time for the Richmonds to be on their way.  Parting, they all exchanged one last round of 'Merry Christmases' and then Jake quickly led Heather off of church grounds and in the direction of her apartment.

She lived even farther from the church than Jake's parents, and in the opposite direction.  They had been halfway to her place when they'd both remembered that Charlotte was still parked in front of his parents' house, but Heather had argued against turning around to go get it, if only to save them from ten extra minutes out in the cold.  Besides, she'd assured him, resting her head against his arm, she'd just get the truck the next day when she was over for Christmas dinner.  It was five after six by the time they reached her apartment door, Heather fumbling her keys in the chilly night air.  They were both very glad when the door finally swung open and they found themselves in the relatively toasty apartment.

"How 'bout some tea?" Heather asked, watching Jake as he secured the door behind them.  "Or cocoa?  If we melted our candy canes into it we'd have peppermint cocoa," she suggested, unwinding her scarf.

"Got enough?" Jake asked, not bothering to divest himself of his jacket before pulling her into his arms for a quick kiss.  "'Cause you don't wanna be disappointing your new best friend by showin' up next week without cocoa," he reminded.

She nuzzled Jake's cold nose with her even colder one.  "I have eleven packets left as of this morning.  Out of a fifty pack box," Heather sighed.  "I like cocoa.  But we probably shouldn't use any more of the marshmallows.  Only got a third of a bag of those."  She extracted herself from his embrace but caught his hand in her own, dragging him with her over to the wood burning stove.  She picked up the kettle, announcing, "I'm gonna go get water."

"And I'm gonna take care of the fire," he told her, earning himself a smile.  Heather could certainly handle the stove on her own, and it wasn't as if he was even around most of the time to do it for her, but Jake liked taking care of Heather, when he could - when she let him - and in any way he could, even if it was just to add a log or two to the stove and coax the banked coals back to life.  He pulled two small logs out of the wood box - leaving just one - and, balancing them on his forearm, yanked the stove door open with his free hand and shoved them in.  "Dave's still got wood inside the garage?" Jake called over his shoulder.  "Need to get some."

Heather appeared in the archway between the galley kitchen and the apartment's main room.  "You don't have to," she frowned softly.

"We're gonna be out of fire in a coupl'a hours.  Might as well get it now," he countered.

She nodded.  "Take the key," she reminded, pointing to where it hung on a nail next to the door.  Dave and Linda Hotchkiss, Heather's landlords, insisted on providing her firewood, but having no desire to share with everyone else who happened by, had moved the woodpile into the locked garage.  "And, you know, don't take too much."

"Right," Jake acknowledged, lifting the key from its nail. Firewood was a precious commodity these days and he knew that Heather didn't want to take advantage of the Hotchkiss's largesse, especially to their detriment.  He slipped out the door, pulling it tightly closed behind him and then jogged down the stairs.  There was no light of course, and he didn't get wood from the garage every day, so he ended up groping his way to the door and then - after somehow getting it open - to the small woodpile inside the even darker garage.  Loading up a comfortable arm's load of firewood - enough to keep her going until the next morning for sure - Jake made his way back upstairs.  He had so many responsibilities now - so many burdens - but doing things for Heather actually lightened his mood, so much so that he was whistling by the time he shouldered his way back into the apartment.

"Jingle Bells?" Heather guessed, smiling at him from her perch on the edge of the coffee table.  She had the teakettle heating on the wood stove and next to her on the table there was a gift wrapped box, complete with curly red and green ribbon.  "You're whistling Jingle Bells?" she clarified, spotting his confused look.  "You know, 'Dashing through the snow,'" she sang, "'On a one horse open sleigh....'"

"Maybe," Jake allowed with a grin, dropping his armful of logs into the wood box.  If there was one person in the world who could inspire him to hum Christmas carols, Heather was that person.  "Not on purpose or anything."

Giggling, Heather sprang to her feet.  "'Over the fields we go, laughing all the way,"" she teased, booming out, "Ha!  Ha!  Ha!" before giving in to genuine laughter.  She moved in front of him so that they stood toe to toe and, after brushing off the dirt and wood chips that clung to his jacket, she twined her arms around his neck and tilted her head for a kiss.  "Sounded like Jingle Bells to me," Heather claimed as Jake's lips touched hers. 

"I've had a wonderful day," she informed him a long moment later, her fingers wrapped around his as she led him to the couch.  Pushing Jake to a seat, Heather sat down next to him and, folding her legs underneath, snuggled herself against him.  "Thank you," she sighed, pressing a kiss to his jaw.  "For spending it with me," she whispered, kissing her way to his ear.  "Just for everything," she completed, worrying Jake's earlobe.  "Thank you."

Jake cupped her head with both hands, bringing his mouth down on top of hers for another kiss.  "You're welcome," he muttered thickly. 

However, in the next instance, they were rudely interrupted by the whistling shriek of the teakettle.  Heather scrambled to her feet to retrieve it, pouring water into two mugs that were sitting on the coffee table, and which Jake hadn't noticed previously.  She handed him one, and then made a show of fishing her candy cane out of her jeans' pocket and, after smashing it up a bit, adding it to her cocoa.  Returning to her spot next to him, she teased him for still being in his coat and then, setting her cocoa aside for a few moments, helped him out of it.  Soon they were cuddled together once more, both working on their mugs of chocolate - Jake didn't bother with adding his candy cane to his - not caring to talk much, instead enjoying the warmth and the soft glow - the only light in the room - given off by the stove. 

"So I got you a present," Heather said after she'd placed both of their empty mugs safely in the middle of the coffee table.  She picked up the box, which Jake admitted to himself, looked like every box he'd ever opened to find a shirt inside.  "Well, it's not like I went shopping," she laughed self consciously, settling back into the circle of his arms, the package balanced on her knees.  "But I did make you something," she finished quietly, sliding the box into his lap.  "It's not much, it's not the perfect day, but anyway.... Merry Christmas."

Jake's only answer was to flash her a wide grin, break the ribbon, and rip off the wrapping paper, balling it up and tossing it toward the stove.  The box was emblazoned with the logo of department store in New Bern.  He shook it open and then folded away the tissue paper inside to reveal a knit watch cap and scarf, both dark green. 

"I thought you could use them when you pull an overnight border patrol shift," she explained, her expression anxious.

"It's cold during the day, too," Jake reminded, trying the hat on for size.  Heather had used a wool yarn, a nice one, because the cap wasn't all that scratchy.  He smiled at her, and then leaned over to give her a kiss.  "This is great, babe.  Thanks."

Heather looked relieved.  "So, you like it?  It's all very basic, you know.  No fringe on the scarf, no pom poms, or anything."

Removing the cap from his head, Jake nodded.  It was practical, and obviously well-made, he realized, stroking his hand over the material, and it would definitely keep his head warm.  He set the cap back in the box and extracted the scarf, winding it around his neck to measure it, finding that it was just right.  "This looks like it was a lotta work," he observed.

"Yeah, well," she shrugged, blushing softly, though it was hardly noticeable with only the glow from the stove to light the room.  "It's amazing what you can get done nowadays without TV to watch."

He snorted in acknowledgment.  "Well, I love it.  Just what I needed, too. Thank you.  So, uh, I have a present for you, too," Jake admitted a beat later, unwinding the scarf.  He dropped it in its box and then placed the box on the coffee table.  Rotating around, he pulled his jacket off the back of the couch where it had ended up earlier, and then he fished a small package out of the pocket, handing it to her.  "Wrapped it myself," he joked, earning himself a grin.  He'd formed the paper - a green piece of copier paper - into a small envelope which he'd then wrapped almost completely in scotch tape.  "It's, uh, practically waterproof."

"I see that," Heather chuckled gently, weighing the package in her hand.  "I think it's childproof too," she teased, trying to pry it open at the corner with the least amount of tape, but to no avail.  "And, you know what they say you do when you can't get into something childproof," she laughed, shaking her head.  "You find a kid to open it for you.  Maybe I better go get one of the Hotchkiss girls."

"It's not breakable or anything," Jake informed her, rolling his eyes.  "Just rip it in half."

"You really didn't have to get me anything, Jake," she argued even as she took his advice, somehow managing to tear through the tape and the paper.  "You already gave me a great day," she reminded.  Jake's gift slipped out of its sleeve, dropping into Heather's lap and surprising her.  She looked down and then up at him, her expression puzzled.  Finally, her fingers tangled in the chain, she lifted the dog tags so that they dangled between them.  "Jake," she murmured, "I don't know what to say."

Jake reached for his identity tags, prying the chain from her hand.  He looked at one of the tags - they were, of course, identical - reading his name, social security number, and blood type.  "Kind of a weird present, I know," he admitted, allowing a wry chuckle, "But when I was gone from Jericho, these were what guaranteed that if something happened to me - if I died - these guaranteed that somebody'd tell my Mom and that I'd get buried here, in Jericho, with the rest of the Greens, like she'd want."  He leaned toward Heather, stretching the chain open.  She understood his intent and ducked her head so he could put the dog tags on her, around her neck.  "But, I'm home," he smiled, letting out a deep breath, "And I don't need 'em anymore."

Eyes wide, Heather stared at Jake unblinkingly, only looking away when she managed to raise one of the tags so that, squinting in the dim light, she could read it for herself.  "I didn't know you were named after your Dad," she said, her voice a throaty whisper.  Before Jake could answer though, Heather had launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck.  She kissed him, and when they finally separated a long moment later, Heather was straddling Jake and his hand was buried in her hair.  Pressing one last chaste kiss to his mouth, she sat back, offering him a nervous smile.  "Let's just make sure that whole needing to be buried thing is way, way in the future," she requested, tracing two fingers over his lips.

"That's the plan, babe," he assured as he reached for the dog tags and chain, tucking them into the collar of Heather's flannel shirt. 

As he withdrew his hand she caught it between both of hers, expelling a somewhat nervous breath, though she tried to cover it with a bright smile.  "So, are you hungry?" Heather asked, squeezing his hand.  "I've got good ol' 'Chinese chips'," she joked, moving to climb off his lap.  "The happy panda kind, of course." 

Holding fast to her hand, Jake followed her into the kitchen where all she allowed him to do was watch as she put together a small plate of the 'Chinese chips' and - he was surprised to see - what looked like a couple of the cookies that hadn't poisoned Gray Anderson on Thanksgiving Day.  Their snack prepared, they drifted back into the main room, reclaiming their cocoon of blankets on the couch, though Jake insisted on adding a log to the stove before he joined Heather.

They ended up talking.  Heather, snuggling up to Jake, her cheek pillowed on his chest, proposed playing a game or 'something' but she didn't have any suggestions as to either, so they stuck to chatting about inconsequential things, taking the opportunity to learn more about one another.  And then, after awhile, they didn't even talk, just sat there, snuggled together under the sleeping bag that they extracted from the pile of blankets, and which Heather had explained, had seen her through eight years of sleep away camps.  Band camp, science camp, girl scouts, she'd told him, chuckling softly, her voice taking on a husky quality that had further heightened Jake's senses to the woman pressed against him.  Finally, convinced that she'd fallen asleep, Jake hugged her a little tighter to himself, and was surprised when she lifted her head. 

"We could sing," she suggested.  "Christmas carols.  Like Jingle Bells," Heather grinned, her eyes catching the glow of the fire.  "Or, my personal favorite, Good King Wenceslas."

Jake let out an amused snort.  "Your favorite Christmas carol is Good King Wenceslas?  That isn't anybody's favorite Christmas carol," he argued, stroking her arm with the backside of his hand.

"Well, I have about five favorites," Heather admitted then, leaning toward Jake to give him a peck of a kiss.  "But Good King Wenceslas is a good, rousing carol.  'Good King Wenceslas looked out on the Feast of Stephen! When the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even!  Brightly shone the moon that night, tho' the frost was cruel!  When a poor man came in sight, gath'ring winter fuel!'" she sang out, almost shouting.  "See?" she giggled, "Rousing.  And rather applicable to the times, now that I think about it," Heather sighed, her nose wrinkling.  "So what's your favorite Christmas carol?" she asked.  "There has to be one that you like.  Or don't hate."

"Probably ... 'Jingle bells, jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin -"

"Stop it!" Heather ordered, laughing and smacking him on the arm.  Rolling her eyes at him she decided, "We'll just say yours is Jingle Bells, and leave it at that."  Still chuckling, she laid her head back down against his shoulder.

"So what are the other four?" Jake asked a minute later, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

 "I dunno.  O, Holy Night, I guess," she answered, absently twisting a button on his flannel shirt between her thumb and index finger.  "And, Christmas Time Is Here - especially when the Peanuts sing it in A Charlie Brown Christmas." 

Heather fell silent, her hand still roaming slowly over Jake's chest.  He didn't push her for the rest of her answer, didn't say anything at all, deciding to simply enjoy the moment - let it soak into his bones.  It was moments like these - these snatches of time together - that sustained him the rest of the time, out in the 'real world', Jake couldn't help but think.  He'd wanted to give Heather a good day - a happy holiday - and by her reaction, he'd succeeded.  But now, he realized, it had all been as much for him as for her.  This day together, and the hope for more to come, would keep him going for a good long while.

"'Baby, it's cold outside'," Heather sang quietly, breaking the silence in the room and distracting Jake from his thoughts.  She paused for a few seconds and then sang the line again.  "'Baby, it's cold outside'."  Raising her head, she looked at him expectantly and then, waiting another beat, sang, "'Been hoping that you'd drop in'."

She wanted him to sing along with her, Jake realized, and surprisingly he didn't abhor the idea.  He offered her a disappointed grin.  "Baby, I know the song, just not the words," he told her, brushing his mouth across hers.

"Well, and I was singing your part," she admitted, smiling at him.  "The Wolf," she giggled.

"The wolf?" he asked, pulling her gently back down so that her head once again rested against his shoulder.  He pressed a kiss to her hairline, joking, "I'm a wolf now?"

"Not a wolf," Heather answered, "The Wolf.  The lyricist designated the two parts the Wolf and the Mouse."

"And this is the reason why we will never, ever be playing Trivial Pursuit," Jake snorted.  Beneath the sleeping bag he found her hand, lacing their fingers together.  "Mom and Dad used to do that song as a duet at Christmas parties and things like that when I was a kid," he told her, squeezing her hand.  "Dad'd play the piano - 'only time all year I use those five years of lessons,' he'd say - and they'd sing.  Everyone loved it, but I just thought it was embarrassing, 'cause you know when you're a kid and you start to get older, you know what they're talking about... but it's your parents," he grumbled.

"I think that's nice," Heather sighed, her breath warm on Jake's neck.  "I like your parents," she added, "And since you won't sing with me, I'm gonna be forced to sing the song all by myself, both parts," she threatened, chuckling softly.  "Don't think I won't, buster."

He laughed, a happy sound that brought a wide smile to Heather's face.  They both twisted around, their lips meeting and their hands clutching at one another.  "Let's," Jake began pulling back for just an instant before their mouths met again. "Hear it," he completed a moment later, resting his forehead against hers.

"Hear what?" she joked even as she untangled herself from him, scooting back a few inches on the couch.  She faced him, smiling, and Jake could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to figure out how she was going to do this.  "Okay," she murmured, "Okay, here goes.  Your part - which should really be my part, but we're reversing - goes first.  'I really can't stay-'" Heather sang, pointing a finger at Jake and dropping her voice an octave, apparently to show it was his part.  "Now me," she continued, pointing at herself, "'Baby, it's cold outside -'  Now you.  'I've got to go way -'  And, me again.  'Baby, it's cold outside -  This evening has been -'" she crooned, pointing at him again.  "'Been hoping that you'd drop in -'" she sang, "'So very nice - I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice -'"  She stopped then to take a deep breath, pointing at him without thinking.  "You.  'My mother will start to worry -'"

"So, you've met my mother," he interjected, grinning.

Shaking her head, she fought a giggle in order to keep singing.  "'Beautiful' - I mean, handsome -" she teased, intoning, "'What's your hurry? - My father will be pacing the floor - Listen to that fireplace roar -'"  Her eyes shining with suppressed laughter, Heather pointed at the stove.  "'So, really, I better scurry -" she sang, finally giving in and laughing.  "Sorry," she apologized, shaking her head.  "You.  Scurry.  It's funny.  Anyway, 'handsome, what's your hurry?'"

Still grinning, Jake leaned toward her, capturing her face between both his hands and then planting a kiss on her mouth.  "No hurry at all, baby," he murmured against her lips.  Pulling away from him, Heather caught his hand in hers for just a second, squeezing it and then letting it go.   Making a half-hearted attempt at rolling her eyes, she finished the first verse and plowed on into the next.  He decided to sit back and enjoy the show she was putting on for him, snickering when she belted out that there were 'no cabs to be had out there' and again when she claimed that his eyes were 'like starlight now'.

Jake knew he must look like an idiot, smiling and laughing at everything she sang and at all her improvised hand motions.  He didn't care.  He loved her, and he loved that she'd make such a spectacle of herself - that she'd perform like this - for him, and only for him.  She was adorable and a whole other slew of words that he was never likely to say aloud.  He loved her, and he was eating it up - eating it up, and wondering where all of this was leading.

"'I ought to say no, no, no, uh, girl -'" she sang, changing the words on the fly for their swapped roles in her duet with herself.  "'Mind if I -"

"Baby," he interrupted, resting a finger on her lips, "I'm never gonna say no."

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, forming a perfect small 'o' of ... not shock, but definitely surprise.  This was new.  From the beginning, Jake had let Heather set the pace of their relationship, their physical relationship at least.  He had his reasons for not pushing: her relative inexperience, the uncertainty of their situation - hell, of the world in general - the fact that the last thing he wanted to do was to scare her away.  They had been moving toward this, of course - dancing around the issue - in between injuries and crises and all their time apart. But their steps forward always happened without discussion, and always only happened when she made it very obvious that she was ready.  So this was definitely a change.

"I was kinda looking forward to the part where I get to say that it would be my 'lifelong sorrow if you caught pneumonia and died'," she laughed, a nervous lilt in her voice.  Jake dropped his hand from her mouth then, and she captured it with both of hers, cradling it in her lap.  "Mainly so I could apologize for shoving snow down your shirt this morn -"

"Babe, it's okay," he interrupted her once more, shaking his head softly.  "It's okay," he repeated, offering her a small smile.  "Though, I really am against catching pneumonia and dying.  I'm against anything that would take me away from you," he completed, cupping her cheek with his free hand.

"So - so stay," she invited, blushing softly.  "That's - that's what I wanted to ask - or to tell you.  I was trying to find my courage, I guess," she sighed.  Heather laid her hand over the one Jake still held against her cheek.  "I want this, Jake.  I want to be with you.  So stay." 

"You're sure?" he asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then to her lips.  "I don't wanna -"

"I'm sure," Heather insisted.  "Jake, I always played by all the rules.  I even played by the non-rules - the friendly suggestions," she admitted, worrying her lip.  "But the bombs still happened.  I love you, and if the world ends again tomorrow," she shrugged, "I don't want to have missed out on everything we could be together." 

They stared at one another for a long moment and then he kissed her gently.  "Well, that's the one thing good to come from the bombs," Jake decided, cupping the back of her head and her neck with both hands.  His fingers brushed the chain at the back of her neck and he smiled.  "You and me, I mean."

"Us," Heather pronounced, smiling widely in return.  "And, you know," she continued a beat later, "At the end of the song, you're supposed to say 'I really can't stay', and then I say 'get over that old out', and then we sing together 'ah, but it's cold outside'."

"Okay," Jake grinned, clearing his throat.  "I really can't stay ..." he half hummed, half sang.

Heather beamed at him, crooning in reply, "'Get over that old out....'"

And then - together - they sang, "'Ah, but it's cold outside,'" before their lips met in another kiss.

* * * * *

Heather did their dishes quickly, running them under the freezing cold water and barely swiping at them with a dishcloth before leaving them on the drain board to finish drying.  Jake checked the front door - it was still locked - and threw another log on the fire, poking at it for good measure.  These few things taken care of, they met behind the couch, Heather holding her hand out to him.  "Ready?" she asked breathlessly.

Nodding, Jake squeezed her fingers.  "All set," he agreed, tugging her to a stop after they had only taken two steps toward the bedroom.  He pulled her around so that they stood facing one another.  "I love you, Heather," he told her, holding fast to her hand.

"Love you, too," she smiled in return. 

Walking backwards, Heather led him another few steps toward the other room before stopping suddenly.  She frowned at him, and Jake felt his pulse start to race, worried that she was having second thoughts.  If she was, he wouldn't push her, he decided immediately.

"This is not a present," she told him softly, exhaling through her teeth.  "I am not a present."

Jake let out a relieved breath.  "Good," he grinned at her, taking advantage of her surprise to pull her into his arms.  "Because," he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to her mouth, "I'm guessing we're gonna want to do this more than once."  He cocked his head, teasing gently, "Well, maybe that's just me."

She squirmed against him and, in return, Jake tightened his hold on her.  "It's not just you," Heather smiled shyly.  "But the presents you gave me, they were so much better than what I gave you, I just had -"

"My present wasn't better," Jake contradicted.  "I gave you something I already had.  You actually had to spend time making my gift."

"Yeah, but you gave me the whole day, too," she reminded, leaning into him.

"Which was pretty much giving myself a present and doesn't count," Jake chuckled quietly.  "Babe, I wanted to spend the day with you.  It wasn't a present.  Just like you are not a present."

Heather took a moment to assimilate this information; Jake could practically see the wheels turning in her head, and he smiled to himself, feeling the sudden urge to tell her that she was cute when she was thinking.  "So you like your present?" she asked, her hand against his chest.  "You're really gonna wear 'em?"

"Yeah, I am," he grinned, brushing his lips over hers.  "'Cause, baby, it's cold outside.  'Specially the Tacoma bridge on about two in the morning."

"Well good," she smiled, obviously pleased.  She waited a moment, and then started to back away from Jake, who caught her hand in his as she slipped out of his arms.  "Ready?" she asked.

* * * * * * * * * *

The story of Bizarro World will continue when the mood strikes, though I probably won't wait 2 years to write the next installment.



Songs:

I'll Be Home for Christmas was written by Buck Ram, Kim Gannon and Walter Kent in 1943.

We Three Kings of Orient Are is a Christmas carol written by Reverend John Henry Hopkins, Jr., who wrote both the lyrics and the music as part of a Christmas pageant for the General Theological Seminary in New York City. It is suggested to have been written in 1857 but did not appear in print until his Carols, Hymns and Song in 1863.

Jingle Bells was written by James Lord Pierpont and copyrighted under the title One Horse Open Sleigh on September 16, 1857.

The lyrics for Good King Wenceslas were written by John Mason Neale, Warden of Sackville College, East Grinstead, Sussex and are in the public domain.

The music for O Holy Night was composed by Adolphe Adam in 1847.  The lyrics come from the French poem "Minuit, chrétiens" by Placide Cappeau.  It was translated into English by Unitarian minister John Sullivan Dwight, editor of Dwight's Journal of Music in 1855, and lyrics also exist in other languages.

Christmas Time is Here was written for the Peanuts television special A Charlie Brown Christmas which was release in 1965.  It is performed by the Vince Guaraldi Trio and has since been covered by a number of artists.

The music and lyrics for Baby, It's Cold Outside were written by Frank Loesser in 1944 who, along with his wife, performed the song informally at parties for a number of years.  The female voice in the song is called "The Mouse" and the male "The Wolf."


Games:

Monopoly is a board game patented by Charles Darrow in 1935, and published by Parker Brothers, a division of Hasbro.

Trivial Pursuit is a board game invented by Scott Abbot and Chris Haney in 1979, and is published by Parker Brothers, a division of Hasbro.

Risk is a board game invented by Albert Lamorisse, and originally released in 1957.  It is published by Parker Brothers, a division of Hasbro.

Yahtzee is a dice game published by Milton Bradley, a division of Hasbro.

Uno is a card game developed in 1971 by Merle Robbins and published by Mattel.

Twister is a game of physical skill produced by Hasbro Games.



All references shamelessly borrowed from wikipedia.org.