Blair Sandburg looked around. The Christmas Eve party wasn't going well. Oh sure, people were dancing and laughing, music was playing, the Christmas tree looked like a dream come true but it wasn't going well in his opinion. He stood near the bullpen door, chewing on a cookie and watching the cops get down. Desks had been shoved aside for a dance floor and Jim's desk held a huge punch bowl filled with some green stuff. He sighed and cast a glance over at Ellison.

Jim danced like a professional. For a big, muscular guy he was graceful and light on his feet, he had rhythm and knew the steps. Blair sighed again. If he was granted his Christmas Wish he would find himself wrapped in those arms. It was hard to be in love with your partner, especially when he didn't know it. And he never would, Blair had vowed. If Jim ever found out he'd probably freak and then kick Blair out in the snow. No, it was better to suffer in silence.

"Hey, Hairboy," Henri Brown greeted. "Sam was for you," he said. Blair grimaced and thanked Brown for the warning. He'd been avoiding her for weeks now and the skimpy present he'd gotten her would just confirm her suspicions that they were no longer and item. But Blair hadn't had the money to spend on Sam like she'd wanted. He'd bought Jim a present, nothing fancy, just a battered tackle box filled with lures, but someone had loved it and taken great care of it. Blair had found himself sad when he saw it rusting at a flea market and he'd bought it. Jim, he knew, would carefully repair them and cherish them as the original owner had. Blair had then taken what little money he had left and gone to St. Timothy's, drawn by the bells tolling in the darkness. He'd always favored Catholic churches at Christmas time, they just seemed to personify the season. Standing before a charity box with candles glowing all around and the sound of a choir filling the air, he'd deposited the gift and said a silent prayer for the thing he wanted most on the Holy Night.

"What's wrong, Chief?" Jim's quiet voice startled Blair, he jerked around and found himself standing face to face with his partner.

"Jim! Do not sneak up on me, man," he growled. "I hate that!" Ellison didn't answer, his light blue eyes held a glimmering light as he gazed down at Blair and the tiny smile on his lips made him look as enigmatic as the Mona Lisa. Blair found himself holding his breath when Jim reached out and clasped his face between strong hands. It was a gesture Ellison often used, holding his face still and staring into his eyes, but usually it was after some traumatic event not in the middle of the office Christmas Party.

Blair could only pray he didn't pass out as Jim leaned down, his lips brushing Blair's. An electric current seemed to pass between them, stealing the breath from both men's bodies as their lips locked together. It was the most erotic kiss Blair had ever experienced; it was fire and ice against his mouth, burning his soul and chilling his skin. His lips parted for the tongue gently tracing his mouth and sighed as Jim's tongue met his. He could hear Christmas bells and people singing and for the rest of his life he knew I'll Be Home for Christmas would conjure this image in his heart.

Jim broke away, leaving him more lonely than he'd ever felt in his life. "Why...why'd you do that," Blair demanded. He couldn't raise his eyes, couldn't bear to look into his partner face for fear of what he'd see. But Jim raised his chin with one finger and smiled.

"Look," he ordered and pointed above them. A sprig of mistletoe hung from a red ribbon over the doorway. Blair grinned and nodded but Jim didn't return the smile. "But not because of that," he reached down and squeezed Blair's shoulder, "because I've wanted to for a long time, that just gave me an excuse." Now he smiled and Blair felt his heart melt.

"Let's go home, Chief." Blair stared at him, eyes filling with tears as he realized his one prayer had been answered. Jim reached up and wiped the single tear away, his own eyes sparkling. "We need to stop by St. Timothy's on the way."

"Why?" Blair asked. Had Jim seen him? Had his Sentinel tracked him down to the church, smelling his scent on the money like some bloodhound?

Ellison ducked his head, refusing to look at Blair for a moment and then taking a deep breath he said, "I heard the bells last night and...and stopped in to say a prayer. I asked God to let

me find the courage I needed to tell you how I feel. I asked Him to let me have your love for the rest of my life. I just thought I'd like to stop by and listen to the bells ringing and maybe say thank you." He met Blair's gaze hesitantly, "unless there's nothing to thank Him for."

"I think thanking God for the rest of our lives is in order,"

Blair whispered. He caught Jim's hand and pulled him towards the elevator. "Can I tell you that I love you?"

"That's the answer to my prayer," Ellison said. They drove to the church in silence and parked where they could see the beautiful old building rising up towards heaven. Snow began to fall as they sat there and the ringing of the bells was like angels singing from on high. Blair looked over at Jim, amazed by the depth of his feelings for this man. Ellison grinned and leaned over to kiss his lips gently and then together they followed the crowd inside.

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