The twinkling lights strung around the seven foot Christmas tree danced in all its multicoloured glory as it lit up the shadowy living room. The ornaments ranged from traditional glass balls to festive candy canes to dark, red bows and silver tinsel was sprinkled over the large, green branches.  

JC sat cross legged in front of the glowing fireplace on the cream carpeted floor, the flames warming his cheeks and toasting the air in the room. He was hunched over holding a bottle of gold glitter glue in one hand and a pencil in the other. Seven red stockings were laid out before him and JC had tried to perfect his lettering on each one before he soon spruced his font with the gold sparkle.

As he leaned back, JC tilted his head to the left to admire his work. The slight cringe he realized that was on his face hinted to him that something was missing.

"She does like green," JC murmured to himself and he screwed the gold bottle closed. As he rose to his feet and set the pencil down on the glass coffee table behind him, JC dragged each one of the stockings across the room until they were all situated in secrecy behind the Douglas Fir.

He stuffed the glue bottle in the back pocket of his denim, dark blue jeans before he turned down the lights completely and made his way out of the room. He followed in the tracks of the humming that echoed out of his kitchen.

Their kitchen.

For a first time live-in couple, it could be called their kitchen.

JC leaned over the island silently, his forearms pressing against the surface. The humming coming from the woman who stood at the counter with her back to him abruptly became mute.

She put her hands on her small hips partly covered by the white holiday apron she wore adorned with printed Christmas trees. "One teaspoon ground cinnamon," she said to herself, one of her hands reaching out to touch the packet of spice next to her. "A half cup of butter, and three quarter cup of granulated sugar."

"And what about the eggs, babe?" JC asked, and she turned around at the sound of his voice. He chuckled as he nodded at the unopened tray of eggs in front of him. "You can't exactly bake without them."

"You can actually," Leah told him with a smile, and JC rolled his eyes. "But I do need one egg white."

"It smells good in here," he said, looking around the room. "Damn."

"The turkey should be out of the oven soon and the rest of food is over there-" she pointed to the wooden kitchen table where over half a dozen closed glass dishes covered. "-And I'm just getting started on the pie. I know you really wanted me to try to make pecan but we forgot to get at the store last week so, apple it is."

"So, I take it you like the new recipe book?"

Leah grinned, turning around to glance at the hardback that was open next to her large, blue bowl. It was only one of her few Christmas presents from him, but undoubtedly the favourite of her inner chef.

"You know I love it," she replied, leaning over her side of the island to be at eye level with her boyfriend. "You saw me look through it every time we went into a book store. I'm using it for the pie."

"What are you gonna use the stuff that Santa brought you in your stocking this morning for?" JC asked her with a slightly teasing smile.

Leah blushed as her brown eyes floated down to the smooth marble. It was an inevitable fact that JC was on the naughty list that year and it showed in his knowing eyes.

"Well," she began slowly. "Those could be used for a lot of stuff."

JC chuckled as her mouth found his for a few time stopping moments before pulling away.

"But none of that involves Christmas dinner," Leah mumbled against his lips. "Unfortunately. And you still taste like Karen's Christmas cookies from your parents' breakfast this morning."

JC drew back a little bit before licking his lips. "You taste like..." He took a moment to identify the lingering taste of his tongue. "Cranberries."

Leah laughed, tightening the ponytail that kept her layered, should length hair out of her face. "Well, I have to taste the sauce before I serve it, you know."

"So, do we eat dinner and then I get to open that big, wrapped up box you've been hiding upstairs or can I do that before?"

"Joshua Scott!" she exclaimed, her jaw falling open. JC laughed lightly, the corners of his eyes becoming smaller in the way that she loved to see. "You went snooping through my side of the closet, didn't you?"

"I did no such thing," JC said solemnly.

"You blue eyed, little sneak. I can't believe you went snooping."

"I didn't!" JC insisted. "I honestly thought gift exchange was over after this morning."

"So how'd you find the box?" Leah questioned.

"I was looking for your art supplies and wrapping paper and I came across this box with my name on it," he grinned. "I didn't open it, don't worry. Where are they, anyway?"

"I shouldn't even tell you at this point," Leah frowned. "You killed my surprise."

"It's not like I saw anything, baby," JC assured her. "C'mon. Why's it such a big deal?"

"Becauseeee," she groaned. "This year's special to me. I wanted to do something special for you too."

"Besides agreeing to live with me and making Christmas dinner for us on your own?"

"I was gonna give it to you after dinner, so, you'll open it after we eat." Leah sighed, shaking her head at herself. "Of course the place I decide to hide your present is in the closet we share. Smart, Leah, real smart."

"Don't make it such a big deal," JC assured her, taking her hands in his and kissing at the surface. "They do say great minds think alike."

"So?"

"So," he emphasized. "You may or may not have one more present to open later."

Leah smiled as JC's twinkling eyes caused the hair on her arms to rise. "Fine," she said, almost mumbling the word. "Why didn't you give it to me this morning?"

"Same reason you didn't give me mine," he said as he lifted off the island to stand straight. "Tonight's special. And I know that this is the present you're gonna love the most."

"I don't know," Leah said in a sing-song voice. "What I've been saving for you is pretty good."

"I highly doubt it's better."

"We'll see," JC chuckled.

Before she could say any more, he remembered the glue in the back of his pocket. "Now, really, where are your art supplies?"

"In the bedroom, under the bed. What'd you need ‘em for, anyway?"

JC shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to put this back," he lied as he pulled out the half empty bottle of glitter glue. "I found it, um, somewhere in the living room."

"I probably missed it when we packed up after gift wrapping yesterday." Leah frowned a bit. "I didn't think I used that much."

JC rolled the sleeves of his orange sweater further up his muscled arms. "I'll be back down in a little bit," he told her upon leaving the kitchen.

He could hear her humming start up again as he made his way up the staircase.

Entering the master bedroom they had been sharing for the past seven months, JC immediately headed toward the rumpled, king size bed that they covered with a red comforter. As he got down on both his knees, his right hand reached under the bed until his fingers came into contact with a large, plastic container.

Pulling it out, JC rummaged through the coloured pieces of kite paper, tape rolls, pieces of thread, small packets of sequins, paint brushes of various sizes, coloured pencils, and finally the little bottle of green, glittered paste that he sought.

Stuffing the tube he had held on to in its place, he pushed the container back to where he had found it and stood up.

It wouldn't be long before Leah would replace the turkey in the oven with their Christmas dessert of the night. The night was winding down and JC could see the fading blue sky though the window.

They'd spent almost the entire morning with his family and some of the afternoon on the phone with hers. Greetings were traded and in JC's case, blessings had been asked and graciously granted. Most of their presents had already been exchanged and unwrapped, but there was one in particular that JC had saved for the finale.

The stockings needed a few more touches. Some nerves needed to be calmed. Some reassurance needed to be made. And one ring-

"That's odd," JC said under his breath. A few feet into the closet, he dipped into the left pocket of the jacket he had worn just hours ago. Empty.

His brows furrowed, but a relieved expression washed over the frown lines on his forehead when he reached into the right pocket. An open, black, velvet box sat in the palm of his hand. The lid was already lifted, and the cushioned interior became the former home of a 5 carat diamond.

-needed to be found.