I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true...
All I want for Christmas
Is you...

I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I don't need to hang my stocking
There upon the fireplace
Santa Claus won't make me happy
With a toy on Christmas day
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you...
You, baby

I won't ask for much this Christmas
I won't even wish for snow
I'm just gonna keep on waiting
Underneath the mistletoe
I won't make a list and send it
To the North Pole for Saint Nick
I won't even stay awake to
Hear those magic reindeer click
'Cause I just want you here tonight
Holding on to me so tight
What more can I do
Baby all I want for Christmas is you
You...

All the lights are shining
So brightly everywhere
And the sound of children's
Laughter fills the air
And everyone is singing
I hear those sleigh bells ringing
Santa won't you bring me the one I really need -
won't you please bring my baby to me...

Oh I don't want a lot for Christmas
This is all I'm asking for
I just want to see my baby
Standing right outside my door
Oh I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
Baby all I want for Christmas is
You...
-Mariah Carey, "All I Want for Christmas is You"

*Kirk*

            I drove down my street, the bright, beautiful lights on my neighbors' homes depressing me even more. It was a perfect Christmas Eve, really. A thick blanket of snow covered everything, and all of the decorations looked even more festive encased in white.

            I walked into my big, empty house, my steps echoing on the hardwood floors, and I flipped on one single light in the hall as I went past. I already had a headache, so I didn't need the excessive light. I poured a glass of wine, turned on my fireplace, and stretched out on the recliner.

            Another thrilling Christmas Eve. Alone.

            Not that I wished Wendy was with me, and I questioned myself yet again about why I'd stayed with her for so long.

            Because he is still married, I reminded myself. Because the idea of this, thinking of him, dreaming of him, wishing for him, is just too much to bear. Wendy hadn't taken away the pain, but at least she had kept me from dwelling on it, from letting me surround myself in the depression that he wasn't mine.

            The fact that he never would be.

            I ran a hand through my hair, cursing myself for letting it get to this. I should've taken Kris up on his over to stay with him and Julie and the kids for the holiday. Then again, watching Kris and his wife teasing and kissing and cuddling was enough to send me to bed crying from the jealousy.

            I'm thirty years old, I thought to myself. Thirty years old, and I've spent the past six in love with a married man.

            "Merry Christmas," I whispered to myself, downing the last of my wine, then walking towards the stairs. As I turned off the fireplace, I made a childish wish in my head to a jolly old Saint Nick I knew was nonexistent.

            Who knew, maybe this year I'd get what--who--I wanted?

*Steve*

            Isabella leapt on the bed, squealing for Lisa and me to wake up so that she could open her gifts. We smiled sleepily at each other, and then rolled out of bed and groggily carried the other two girls down the stairs behind a bouncing Izzy. I watched my daughters opening their sweaters and Barbies and the ever present knitted socks that my mother sent every year, warmed by the way their eyes lit up with each opened package.

            Christmas morning made being a Dad so much fun.

Lisa opened her gift from me, a pair of sapphire earrings, and the way she smiled at me reminded me of why I loved being a husband as well.

            We made breakfast together, and as I sat eating a hot pancake, I couldn't stop grinning at my family. If I'd ever doubted it, the warmth in Lisa's eyes, the amazement in the girls' faces when they looked at the decorations, and the picturesque world outside, covered in sparkling, beautiful white, reminded me why I loved Christmas.

            Though I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Something was nagging at the back of my mind, casting a shadow over my happiness. I couldn't place it, but I knew that everything wasn't as perfect as it looked.

            Brendan was at home with Catherine, Jack and Maggie, probably still taking pictures of his kids next to the tree or with their presents or with the dog.

            Jiri, despite his frustrations over his injury, and the pain that lingered after his surgery, was probably enjoying his first Christmas as a dad, as well.

            Sergei's brother had flown in from Manitoba. Sean had gone home to see his parents. Brett had made arrangements to be with his children. Kirk had...

            Oh.

            Kirk.

            I hadn't spent many holidays alone, and when I did, most of my teammates were single as well. Kirk was home by himself today. He hadn't been able to get home to see his parents or his brother.

            I couldn't leave Kirk alone on Christmas, so I picked up the phone, but hesitated. Phone call or not, he was still in his house all alone. Suddenly protective of him, I decided to take a trip to Novi.

*Kirk*

            I groaned at the doorbell as it woke me from a dreamless sleep, and without needing to see who was at the door, I decided I hated them. I stumbled from bed and pulled a sweatshirt on, making a detour to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

            If someone was ringing my doorbell at ten o'clock on Christmas morning, that person would wait until I was good and ready to answer the ring.

            I tromped down the steps, cursing under my breath, and I took a final glance in my hall mirror as I walked past. My hair was a disaster, sticking up in a few very unnatural directions, but I wasn't in the mood to care. I pulled open the door, squinting my eyes against the blinding white of the sun-brightened snow, lighting my visitor with an almost ethereal light from behind.

            I should have fixed my hair.

            "Hey Steve," I said, smiling at him, ignoring the way my stomach was clenching. "Come on in."

            "Good Morning, Kirk. Did I wake you?"

            I smiled sheepishly, "Yeah...I didn't really have any reason to be up early."

            "I should've invited you over to my place," he said with a laugh as I led him to the living room. "The girls could have harassed you this morning rather than me."

            "No, that's quite okay. I'll have Kennedi and Kienan climbing all over me tonight; I'm having dinner with Kris and Julie. But thanks for the thought."

            Steve was quiet then, and I followed his eyes as they browsed the decorations brightening my living room. The lights weren't on, but silver tinsel glinted on the tree, along with a collection of ornaments I'd been developing since I was 18, some of them from my childhood, others picked up along the way or given to me as gifts from my teammates' children. Even though they weren't on, a string of white lights draped from my fireplace, and they'd looked beautiful the night before.

            "Wow, you did all of this?" Steve asked, surprise in his voice.

            I shrugged, "Yeah. Christmas was always a big deal when I was growing up. Its a tradition."

            "It looks great in here, Kirk."

            "Thanks," I told him, blushing slightly. I glanced at the floor, then back up, to find Steve smiling warmly at me.

"At least now you have someone here to share it with."

            I grinned back at him, then looked at the lack of gifts under my tree, biting my bottom lip. If Steve could only be here for a little while longer, and keep smiling at me like that, my Christmas was complete. If Steve would just stay...it was present enough for me.

*Steve*

            Kirk's eyes were darting back and forth from me to the ground and then around the room, and I was left wondering why he was so nervous. He wasn't normally this quiet, either. I wondered if something was wrong, or if maybe I'd interrupted something. Maybe he and Wendy had patched things up...

"I'm going to go make some coffee," he said out of nowhere, and escaped into the kitchen, smoothing his hands over his hair.

            I smiled to myself when a few locks of it sprung back up in angry little horns, then shrugged and sat down on the couch, humming a Christmas song to myself. No one would've expected it to watch him play, but Kirk was apparently very sentimental. The lights and bows and tinsel decorating the room, and the entire house, were perfectly balanced. It was festive, but far from gaudy. It made it warm, friendly, it made everything seem homey and comfortable, like a family lived here, even though I knew he was the only one here most of the time.

            I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard a crash in the other room, followed shortly by a curse. I pushed myself up from the couch and headed in that direction, nearly running over Kirk as we both reached the doorway at the same time.

            "Sorry!"

            "Are you okay?" I asked him, grabbing him by the forearm to steady him.

            "Fine," he replied, pulling back from me, then blushing and motioning to a wet spot on the front of his sweatshirt and flannel pajama bottoms, "I just spilled coffee on myself."

            "Is it hot?" I asked, reaching out to touch the spot, but he jumped and shooed my hand away, and I raised an eyebrow at him.

            "No...its fine, I just...I'm going to go change."

            "Kirk," I said, blocking the doorway. "Seriously, something's not normal here, and it was weird way before you spilled anything. What is wrong?"

            He swallowed hard and looked up at me, "It's nothing, Steve. Just...stupid stuff."

            "So tell me, if its just stupid stuff."

            "Steve...really. I'm just...its..." he stammered, eyes darting from me to the floor to the kitchen to the room I was blocking from him. He bit his lip, then met my eyes. "Its nothing. Really."

            I rolled my eyes, sighing. As I did, my eyes caught on something hanging above me. When I glanced back at Kirk, he was blushing furiously...he'd apparently seen the mistletoe as soon as I had.

            And then I figured it out.

            "Just one more question, Kirk," I said quietly, tightening my fingers around his wrist.

            He swallowed hard again, his jaw clenched. "What?"

            "What do you want for Christmas?"

            He blinked up at me, then looked at the ground and tried to pull away from me.

            "Kirk..."

            He bit his bottom lip, and then his eyes, warm and blue and full of worry, looked up at me. "Nothing, Steve."

            I sighed, and glanced at the mistletoe again, then slipped a finger under his chin, "Well...if nothing else, there is something we're supposed to do."

            He shook his head, "No...It’s just a stupid tradition, Steve. Don't...forget about it. Its just a tradition."

            "But you like traditions."

            He opened his mouth to protest, but I smiled at him, and he blushed again, then looked away from me once more. I cradled his cheek in my hand, then moved the other hand down to entwine with his fingers. "Kirk, you never answered me. What do you want for Christmas?"

            He blinked at me and took a deep breath, and then, so quietly I wasn't sure he'd said it, "You."

            I grinned and leaned close, and as my lips pressed to his, I whispered, "Merry Christmas."