Author: Quicksilvermad

Content Warnings:> maybe a little D/C shipper

Darien turned the small package over and over in his hands. It was such a small, materialistic thing to give to the very person that kept him sane. He was a bit embarrassed to admit that he couldn't think of a better thing to give her. But, it was from his heart, so it had to be perfect for her. He'd given up most his salary for weeks to afford it and the new surveillance equipment for Hobbes.

The Official had ordered that he and Eberts be left out of the gift giving, but Darien wasn't buying it and could only assume that they'd end up getting something sooner or later. He stood from his sofa, pocketed the package, and locked his door on his way out.

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

Claire was so absorbed in her notes that she didn't hear Darien enter the Lab.

"Hey Claire," his hand was shoved in his jacket pocket, and he was definitely fiddling with something in it.

"Hey Darien. How are you today?" he certainly didn't need a shot, she'd given him one yesterday. She looked up from the stack of papers she was reading and he tore his hand from his pocket, smoothing his shirt instead and flicking imaginary lint away.

"I got nothing to do today. What about you?"

"After I finish reading these papers over, I won't have anything to do either."

He nodded and she turned back to her reading. "What's that about?" Darien slumped into his chair and daintily rested his chin in his palm. Claire sighed quietly and turned back to him.

"They're my notes on your physical and psychological changes since you've gotten the gland," she swiveled back to read them and stuck a half-eaten candy-cane in her mouth.

Darien thought over what she had just said, but at the sight of a peppermint stick of candy, his thoughts vanished like quicksilver. He had always loved candy canes, and this year he had little or no time to really eat one. "Got one of those for me?"

Claire absently fumbled around her desk while still reading and she slowly picked up a solitary candy cane and threw it over her shoulder. He almost let it clatter to the floor in a million red and white pieces. "Thanks," he un-wrapped it and shoved one end in his mouth. He loved making long, sharp points on the ends.

She mumbled something, turned the last stapled page, and waved a hand at him. "Hmmm."

"What?" he spoke around the peppermint candy and straightened in the chair.

"Oh...nothing," she put the stack of papers down. "I'm done. What do you want to do?"

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

"A party!?" Claire nearly swerved in her SUV.

"Yeah. Christmas Eve...a party at the Agency... Eggnog...decorations, a tree."

"But, isn't Hobbes Jewish?"

"He told me he loves Christmas."

She snorted a bit and sighed. It wasn't SUCH a bad idea... "But the Official-"

"Ah...screw the fat man. He's just a Scrooge, and Eberts is his Bob Cratchett."

She turned her head to glance at him at the intersection, her fingers lightly tapping out the tune of "Holly Jolly Christmas" on the steering wheel.

"So, where's a good place with decorations?"

"Um...I think there's a craft store downtown."

"Then let's go there."

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

"Hey, where do you guys keep the mistletoe?" Darien grinned as he asked the counter girl.

She grinned back and popped her gum. "Right here!" she held it above her head, and he took it from her.

"Thanks."

She pouted at his back when he walked toward Claire who was staring at a package of silver tinsel and chuckling.

"Look Darien, it's fake quicksilver!"

He gave a short chuckle of his own and thrust out the mistletoe over their heads.

Her face turned a bit white, and she practically dropped the tinsel package. "What's that?"

"Mistletoe."

She gulped. "And why do you have it?"

"No Christmas party would be complete without one of these buggers hanging from the doorjamb..."

She began backing into an isle with the rest of all the cheery decorations, and Darien waggled the little plant above her head again. She playfully smacked his shoulder and backed into the flimsy display of plastic Santas.

"Alright! Get it over with!" she started laughing uncontrollably.

Before she could think any further, Darien leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the lips. He picked up one of the Santas behind her and began browsing the isle for more goodies as she stared at his back.

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

"Do you think this is enough?" Claire lugged quite a few bags of decorations with Darien in tow with just as many.

"Yeah, sure," he dumped the bags on the floor and tried to rub the deep red indents in his forearms. "So we're decorating the Lab?"

"I think The Official would be a little upset if we used his office..."

"You got a point. Where do we start?"

She picked out a package of tinsel strands and handed them to him. "Try and see what you can do with these."

Darien opened the package and unraveled the strands of silver, looking around the Lab for the perfect place to hang them. The door slid open just when he stood on one of the chairs lying around to staple the garland on the doorframe.

"Whoah there, killer!" it was Hobbes. He nearly flipped the chair out from under him, and he stumbled to keep his balance on it. After a few wobbles, the chair went in Hobbes direction while he tried to walk out of the way, but Darien stayed in the same place he was when he was on the chair, though on the floor moaning.

"Darien!" Claire rushed to him from trying to get the knot out of some Christmas lights.

"I'm OK..." he stood up and popped something in his back.

"Any injuries?"

"I'm peachy, mom. How bout you?"

Claire sat him in his chair and checked him over. "Hobbes, do you even care that you're partner nearly cracked his head open because you just kept walking?"

Hobbes looked genuinely hurt and shook his head. "You know, Keep, DON'T start with me today!"

"S'matter with you, Hobbes?" Darien stood from the concrete and dusted himself off.

"I'm having a real crappy day, Fawkes. Don't bother me."

"Well, if you're having such a 'bad day,' then you should enjoy the party we're having Christmas eve- tomorrow," Claire waved a hand at the room.

"Fine. Whatever. Just bring liquor," he left the Lab to their decorating, not even looking back.

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

"Well, how does it look?" Darien twirled around with his arms outstretched at the room. Everything but the animal cages and the computer had a decoration on it. Everything gleamed in silver, gold, red, and green, and the only thing missing was people and gifts.

"Shoot!" Claire held a hand over her eyes and her shoulders sank.

"What? What is it?"

"I didn't get you a gift yet! I have to go!" she grabbed her jacket and purse and dashed out the door.

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

...Christmas Eve...

"This party sucks," Hobbes commented, sipping a bit of eggnog.

Darien nearly decked him. After all the work they'd done to bring a shred of festivity to the Agency, all Hobbes could do was complain. "Well, that's...that's real nice to hear."

Hobbes snorted and downed the rest of the eggnog.

"So...I hear you got me something," Darien slid over next to Claire and pulled a small package from his pocket. "I got you one too. And something for," he raised his voice, "HOBBES IN THE VAN."

Hobbes looked up from the bottom of his cup and grinned, dashing from the Lab.

"Well, you go first."

"No, you."

"Fine, at the same time."

They both nodded and swapped boxes.

Carefully, Claire un-taped the paper on the box, and Darien slowly opened his own, larger box.

"Oh my God. It's beautiful!" she pulled the thin, silver chain from it's box. The charm on it was a teardrop of silver, nothing else. It looked like someone had captured quicksilver in a bottle and made it into jewelry. Before Darien could finish opening his gift, she jumped up from the desk and gave him a huge hug. "Thank-you so much, Darien!"

When she let go, he had opened his gift and pulled out a huge book. "'Quotes For Everyday Life,' thanks, Claire!" He gave her a hug of his own and started reading it. Hobbes burst back through the Lab door, carrying his surveillance equipment.

"Fawkes, you are the man!"

"Glad to hear you think so."

"'You know very well that love is, above all, the gift of oneself,' Jean Anouilh," Darien read aloud. He closed the book and stared at the floor while the other two stared at him. "Merry Christmas," he held his arms out and smiled. They didn't really need a gift from him. He was a gift for them, in his company, his love, and his mind. The end. Short and sweet, eh?