[Author’s Notes: Yeah, okay, it’s not even Thanksgiving yet, but the mall’s already decorating, and I’m starting to hear carols on the radio. Forgive a girl for dreaming, huh? Err, it‘s a little short, and more than a little dumb as well, but, um...yeah.... ^_^;;;]

by Bryony

Here I am. It’s Christmas Eve. And I’m working. Why? I do not know.

Actually, that’s a lie. I know perfectly well why I’m working on Christmas Eve. What else have I got to do? Go home to an empty apartment and spend the night alone? Pathetic as it may seem, I’d rather be alone here. Doing paperwork somehow makes the time goes faster. Don’t ask me why…I’m not even sure I’d like to know.

There’s another reason too, actually. Because from here, at my desk that is, I can see out the little window in my door to the office across the hall. There’s another light on in there, and even though I can’t actually see inside, it’s still strangely comforting to know that there’s someone else as alone as I am, even on Christmas Eve.

I can imagine her sitting there, too. Her hair is probably falling over her shoulders, and she’s probably chewing on her pencap. It annoys me to no end when she does that in front of me. It makes a horrible clicking sound against her teeth. Maybe she’ll reach up and twirl the edge of one of her braids around one finger. She does that a lot, too…usually when she’s frustrated. Which is usually when she comes near me. I seem to have that effect on people.

The light in her office goes out. I suck in a breath, and lower my head to my paperwork. I’ve let myself get distracted -- always a bad sign. How can that woman manage to do that to me? I don’t understand; I’ve never even come close to feeling this way before.

Without knocking, Sally just comes barging in. It’s a soft sort of barging in, though, not the loud kind you’d usually associate with the phrase.

“I thought you would’ve gone home hours ago,” she says, leaning against the doorframe. I glance up at her, arranging my features into a scowl.

“I have work to do.” That’s never put her off before, though.

She lifts an eyebrow skeptically. “Work can wait until tomorrow. It’s one o’clock in the morning, Wufei.”

“Woman!” I snap, certain my tone will get her to leave, “I am trying to finish this report. Tonight! Will you please let me do so?!”

Sally doesn’t look put off in the least -- quite the contrary, in fact. Vaguely amused.

“Oh come off it, Wufei. The office is closed.” She stomps closer, and drops a small box onto my desk. “Here. I bought this for you.” I stare at it dumbly, not even sure what to do. It’s horrendous wrapping paper, a green background with little Santas dancing all over it. “Merry Christmas,” she sighs, and turns to go.

“Sally, wait!” I call, jumping to my feet. For some reason, I suddenly feel as though being alone in this office building is even worse than my apartment. I walk quickly toward her, and without thinking I touch her arm. “Thank you,” I stammer, certain I sound like the idiot I feel.

She turns back to me, a smirk dancing across her features. “You’re welcome.” She looks a little uncomfortable after saying that, and I realize my hand is still holding onto her. I don’t move it, though; I actually rather like the way it feels there. “Go home, all right?” she says to me. “You shouldn’t be working on Christmas.”

I take a step in closer, and cup my other hand around Sally’s cheek. The strange thing is, she doesn’t pull away, like I half expect her to. I’m on an eye level with her now, which is actually more than I could say six months ago. I always was closest to her. I don’t know why I’m choosing now, though, to finally discover that maybe my feelings run a little deeper than I thought. Maybe there’s something in the fact that my office is the only lighted place in the building, or maybe it’s because everything is ghostly silent outside. Or maybe -

I stop thinking, and brush my lips quickly across her cheek. Just to experiment, I tell myself. Sally still doesn’t resist, but she doesn’t to anything to encourage me, either. It’s a little nerve-racking, standing there, waiting for a response.

“You know,” she says finally, “it’s really not so late after all. Want to go get a cup of coffee?”

I wasn’t really expecting that, but it seems Christmas is a night of surprises. So I do what anyone would do. “Sure,” I say.