Tis the Season

Peter stepped out of the florist's shop pulling the door shut with one hand and tucking the small paper-wrapped package into his coat with the other. For New York, it was still a rather mild December, which didn't say much for the wind. Partway in his walk back to the firehouse, Peter stopped for a bag of roasted chestnuts as much to warm his hands as needing a seasonal snack. Fact was, he was dawdling, second guessing whether his plan really was as foolproof as he'd thought when it had come to him.

Combined cold and fatalistic bravado pushed him the rest of the way home and through the small door. Ecto was gone to a last minute auto show, leaving the downstairs dominated by the Christmas tree. Blue and gold kept it from looking completely like a peppermint stick despite red and white, logo-emblazoned ornaments. Peter forced himself up the stairs, smiling as he looked down the sparse back of the tree.

Outside the lab door, Peter straightened his green t-shirt, fingered his hair and entered with the now unwrapped sprig of mistletoe. Nonchalantly he walked behind the test tube and tweezering Egon.

Egon turned, specimen still pinched in tweezertips over test tube, at the unusual silence. He did not question why Peter was in the lab holding mistletoe overhead; merely seized the opportunity presented.

The kiss quickly left the bounds of plausible deniability, tweezers jangling against the benchtop. Peter rescued the still-clutched test tube to push it into the rack. Behind them the lab tree blinked merrily.

Seasons Greetings!