Beginning to look a lot like Christmas by InSilva

Summary: Christmas 1982 in Body and Soul verse. One-shot.

Disclaimer: don't own 'em. And sadly, there were still no Danny and Rusty shaped packages under the tree at 3.57am on Christmas Day when our son insisted we go and check if Santa had been.

A/Ns:

1) Happy Christmas, mate. Last year, this year and every year. And thank you for the supervising line. And for the forgotten cat. )

2) Happy January to everyone else. :D This is either very late or very early fic.

3) OK…so…set after "Waiting" and smack bang in the middle of "Understanding", a few weeks after Danny finds out about Rusty's past.

23 December 1982

"Rusty!"

There was absolute delight in Annie's voice as she opened the front door to them. It made Danny smile to himself. He'd only met Annie once before but she'd spoken Rusty's name then in exactly the same way – with warmth and love and such happiness. Danny liked the sound of it.

He looked sideways at Rusty, clutching an enormous bunch of yellow and bronze chrysanthemums and saw the grin and the fondness in Rusty's expression and that made him happy too.

Speaking of which…

"Come on in," Saul appeared at Annie's shoulder, with happy written all over his face. "It's good to see you both."

There was roast beef waiting for them and apple crumble and Danny joined in the conversation and the laughter and all the time he was watching the three of them. The smiles between Saul and Annie that spoke of a whole other language. The pride in Saul's face when Annie was out of the room and Rusty was relating exactly how their last short con had panned out. The absolute joy in Annie's eyes at having Rusty beside her at the table. The deep unguarded affection radiating from Rusty.

A family.

Danny loved it.

The house, surprisingly, was bare of tinsel and sparkle that Danny realised he'd been expecting. He might only have met Annie once but he'd had the impression of enthusiasm and liveliness and he thought there might have been-

"We waited for you to come before we decorated," Annie smiled, handing round a tray of coffee and hot chocolate as they sat in the lounge.

Rusty grinned.

"Good. I can introduce Danny to Evie," he said cryptically and before Danny could quiz him, he looked over at Saul. "We can dig the tree up."

"You saying I'm old?" Saul asked, his brows drawn down in mock-suspicion.

"As if!" Annie laughed, squeezing his arm and Saul grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"Saul's going to be young even when he's old," Rusty murmured.

"That's for certain," Danny agreed softly, looking at the couple across the way. Annie's love would see to that.

Annie announced that she'd made up a bed for Danny in the spare room.

"It's a bit of a tight squeeze," she apologised, "but I hope it'll be OK. Rusty'll show you up."

Now, Danny sat on the campbed surrounded by the wigs and the clothes and the make-up and recognised it for what it was: Saul's walk-in wardrobe of disguises.

He hesitated and then curiosity got the better of him and he reached out and picked up a particularly large bushy moustache and wedged it experimentally underneath his nose. Straining his neck to see, he inspected himself in the mirror and gave a satisfied nod. He felt sure he could do disguises if the need arose.

"Suits you," Rusty said from the doorway with a complete lack of sincerity.

Danny pulled the moustache off hurriedly and placed it back on the side. He waved a hand vaguely at the contents of the room.

"Impressive."

"He is," Rusty agreed, walking into the room, pulling out the chair in front of the dressing-table and sinking gracefully into it. He added, "You were quiet this evening."

Had he been?

"I didn't notice," Danny said truthfully.

Rusty nodded slowly, accepting. Danny saw him hesitating as if he wanted to ask something more. Something maybe about whether this was OK…about whether Danny wanted to spend Christmas somewhere else…about whether Rusty had presumed too much in suggesting that they…

"You're an idiot," Danny told him at once.

Rusty's face relaxed into a smile. Apparently being insulted was just what was needed.

No place else I'd rather be.

The smile gradually faded and there was a hint of a frown as if Rusty was trying to work out what the problem actually was. Good luck with that. If Danny didn't know then he didn't see how Rusty was going to figure it out.

"It's all good, Rusty," Danny said and meant it.

Rusty rubbed at his mouth and then gave a shrug and stood up. "Sleep well. Remember, tomorrow, you get to meet Evie."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Can't wait."

Christmas Eve 1982

Breakfast was tasty and there was lots of it. Bagels and pastries and coffee and pink milkshake. Danny saw the familiar look of absolute bliss on Rusty's face as he sipped it. Somehow he doubted Rusty would ever lose his love of the stuff. Glancing round, he saw the fond indulgence on Saul's face and Annie not even bothering to hide her smile.

Saul was telling some story about a guy named Marty.

They were everything he would have wanted for Rusty. Everything.

"And then the door opened and the man appeared with a saucepan on his head… Big little guy. Two hundred and eighty pounds."

Unwillingly, his thoughts flicked back to the revelation just a few weeks previous. Still so raw. Still so painful.

"The saucepan was wedged tight and all Marty could see was the end of his nose and his mouth…"

Rusty, working the streets.

"And before Marty could say a word, this high-pitched voice emerged…"

Rusty mired in a life so far removed from life with Saul and Annie. Offering himself. Being…having to…making himself…

"You OK?" Saul asked sharply.

Danny jerked his eyes open and saw the anxious look from Annie and felt the silent concern radiating from Rusty. Danny forced his expression into one of reassurance.

"I'm fine," he smiled and picked up a pastry. "Just feeling a little light-headed. Guess I need some more food. Honestly, I'm fine."

Annie gave him a cautious nod and Saul frowned and as much as said "If you say so" and Rusty wordlessly called him the biggest liar on the planet.

Danny ignored him and turned his most charming smile on Saul. "So this guy with the saucepan on his head…?"

Breakfast was over and Annie was clearing away the dishes. Saul stood up.

"I'll help Annie. You know where the spade is, Rusty?"

Danny caught the trace of the look directed at Rusty that was nothing to do with digging up a tree and everything to do with making sure that he, Danny, was OK.

"I'm fine," Danny said as soon as Saul was gone. "Really."

"You're-"

"I'm not ill."

"And you're-"

"I told you," Danny said fiercely. "Nowhere else."

Sorry.

There was a silence and Danny still saw the question in Rusty's eyes and felt the need to explain just a little.

"Look, I'm just glad that you found Saul and Annie. That you…" There weren't enough words and there certainly weren't the right words and what came out was "…that you had happy Christmases."

It sounded lame as hell and stupidly sentimental but he could see that Rusty got the everything he wasn't saying.

"Oh, Danny…"

Rusty shook his head and the dismissal was all about time apart that couldn't be helped. Time that no fury or rage was going to get back. Time before they knew each other. Danny didn't think the anger could ever be rationalised like that though.

Rusty looked at him hard. "Is that it?"

Was that the reason he'd been quiet the previous night? Danny considered. He had been thinking about the peacejoylove that was on show.

"I guess," he said softly.

Rusty nodded, willing to accept. "Alright. Let's go get the tree."

The tree was in the hall and Danny and Rusty looked at each other with a satisfied grin of victory over Nature.

"I notice you were very good at supervising the tree extraction," Rusty remarked, foraging in a big box of decorations.

"How else would you know if you were doing it correctly?"

He didn't have to see Rusty's face to see the smile.

"This is Evie," Rusty announced, handing Danny a doll with a pair of wings stuck on her back.

"Hello, Evie," Danny said solemnly, looking at the blue eyes, the painted eyelashes and the rosebud lips. "I guess you're the star of the show."

Carefully, he settled her on the top of the tree and then turned back to Rusty who had hands full of glittery tinsel and fairy lights.

"That's an interesting look."

"I reckon I can carry it off."

Danny squinted at the shiny turquoise silk shirt. "Could be an improvement."

Rusty gave him a look and then pointed at the box of decorations. "Just hang the balls."

Fifteen minutes later and the tree was colourfully covered. Annie appeared in the hallway and clapped her hands.

"That looks wonderful, boys. Oh, this is going to be such a happy Christmas!"

"I bet last Christmas was just as happy," Danny suggested lightly.

The smile dropped from Annie's face.

"We had a few…issues the past couple of Christmases," Rusty said and there was a story, more than one story and Danny didn't know the details. "Eventually, though, we sorted them out, right, Annie?"

"Right." Annie's smile was a pale imitation of her usual one but she looked at Rusty and it gained strength. "Right."

Rusty was holding her gaze and when he spoke, his words were calm and matter-of-fact and just for Annie.

"So this year we're going to be together."

"Yes."

"And safe."

"Yes."

"And happy."

"And happy," Annie echoed.

It sounded like a promise. A promise that had been made more than once. Danny saw the effect it had on Annie: the colour returned to her face and she reached out and brushed her fingers against Rusty's cheek and then seemed to remember that Danny was there. She gave a little embarrassed laugh of apology.

"I'm sorry, Danny. I don't know what came over me."

"It's OK, Annie," Rusty said before Danny could. "Just bad memories. Danny understands."

Bad memories? Yeah, he understood those even if he didn't understand these. He nodded.

Annie recovered her composure.

"Saul's got somewhere he has to be so I was thinking of driving into town. Do you want to come with me?"

"We'd love to," Danny smiled and immediately had the feeling that he'd said the wrong thing.

"Good. If you boys want to wash up, I'll get my coat and go and bring the car round."

Once she'd left, he turned to Rusty who was wearing a resigned expression.

"What-?"

"You'll see."

Danny did. He was sitting in the front of the Dodge and his knuckles were white, his eyes didn't dare blink and he was doing his best to keep the fear inside: it kept threatening to emerge in a squeak that he felt sure Rusty would never let him hear the last of and which he was sure would somehow offend Annie.

Instead, he kept the smile plastered on his face and tried not to wince as the Dodge's wing-mirror clipped a shoulder-bag and a man hopped on to the side-walk, flattening himself against a streetlamp just in time to avoid being hit.

Rusty sat behind him, keeping up a conversation with Annie and Danny was immensely grateful. He didn't think his tongue remembered how to form words. For his part, he was able just to make inarticulate noises of enquiry or acknowledgement and Annie seemed not to notice anything unusual.

There was a stoplight ahead that was showing red and Danny waited for Annie to brake. Any time soon would be good. Any time soon. Like now. Now would be wonderful. Danny's feet were pressed hard into the passenger footwell, engaging footpedals that weren't there and it was like watching a car crash in slow motion only it was an actual car crash and they were all starring in it and he braced himself because now, Annie, now-

Annie braked. Hard. The car came to an abrupt standstill and Danny exhaled slowly, forcing his teeth to unclench and willing his heart to stop thumping. His right shoulder was surreptitiously given a squeeze of comfort.

"Is that a parking space over there, Annie?" Rusty said, pointing. "In front of the diner?"

"Ooh, yes," she said and as the lights changed, the car leapt forward and skidded to a halt approximately three feet away from the kerb. She smiled brightly at Danny. "That's lucky, isn't it? To find a spot straightaway. We could have been driving round for ages."

Danny found his voice. "Yes," he agreed fervently. "Lucky."

"Let's meet back here at two o'clock, shall we?" Annie suggested as they climbed out of the car. "That'll give us a couple of hours to look around town and we can have a bite to eat before we drive back."

The drive back. Danny could feel the colour draining further from his face.

"Sounds good, Annie," Rusty said cheerfully.

They watched her walk away.

"Drink?" Rusty murmured.

"God, yes."

The bar was close by the diner and it was busy but Rusty sat him down at a window table and went off to find drinks. Danny's tongue had just about peeled itself off the roof of his mouth by the time Rusty handed him a glass and sat down opposite.

Danny nodded at the soda Rusty was sipping. "You not drinking?"

"I'm used to her."

"She's…she's…"

"She's amazing. She just can't drive."

"How in the world did she-?"

"Saul."

Ah. Made sense. Danny took another swig of the something pleasantly alcoholic and stared at the glass.

"What is this?"

"Christmas punch."

Danny nodded thoughtfully. "We should make this."

Rusty smiled. "Saul does when he and Annie throw a party. His version's got quite a kick."

"I bet."

He hesitated and Rusty was already there with the What? Damn the man. Danny threw a quick glance around the crowded bar and then thought oh, well, what the hell.

"Back at the house."

When he'd been talking about happy Christmases. When he'd been making stupid assumptions. When the look on Annie's face had made it obvious that nothing should be assumed.

Danny took a deep breath and looked straight at Rusty.

"I don't know what happened and I know – I know - I don't have any damn right to know and I feel selfish and arrogant for assuming you'd tell me and shit-scared that I'm going to freak you out by asking but still…still, I want to know."

The bar buzzed around them, full of shoppers and party people: Danny didn't even hear the noise.

"That's quite a speech."

"Yeah."

Rusty took a sip of the soda and then leant forward across the table, supporting his right cheek and temple with his thumb and forefinger.

"Christmas didn't mean much until I met Saul and Annie. Growing up, there were usually a couple of presents waiting for me…well, till I ended up with my aunt at least…but it wasn't anything special, you know? Like birthdays. Just a date. Saul and Annie…" His lips curved into a smile. "Especially Annie…they take holidays very seriously."

He straightened up and took another drink of soda.

"Two years ago, there was a woman who made life difficult for all of us. Last year, there was someone Saul offended who held a grudge. For a while, things got…sticky. Like I said to Annie, things are sorted."

Sorted and filed away like the other times. Not to be dwelled on even though "difficult" and "sticky" were undoubtedly the least of it. Danny nodded slowly.

OK?

Yeah.

Rusty leaned forward, his eyes bright. "And for the record, freaking me out would take-"

"Annie!"

Danny was half-out of his chair and Rusty twisted round to follow his gaze out of the window. Annie was stumbling unseeing through the crowds, her face white.

They ran out into the street and pushed their way past people until they reached her.

"Oh, Rusty, I'm so glad you're here," Annie cried. "The most dreadful thing has happened!"

Miraculously, their table was still free. Danny sat her down and Rusty grabbed another glass of punch from a passing waitress.

"What is it, Annie?" Danny asked gently.

Rusty's face was tight with emotion as he pressed the drink into her hand. "Did you see-?"

"No! No. Nothing like that." Annie was shaking her head frantically. "It's all so stupid."

She took a gulp of the punch and then put the department store bag on the table, looking at it as if it were a live scorpion.

"I went to the department store to find some candles and I saw this shirt and I thought it would be a nice present for Saul – an extra present."

They nodded their joint understanding that Annie hadn't left it till the 24th of December before buying something for her husband.

"So I bought it."

Danny nodded again encouragingly but nothing was forthcoming.

"Annie?" Rusty prompted softly.

She sighed and the story fell out of her.

"The man who served me took my money and then said that he had just the cufflinks to go with the shirt and that they were on offer and that he could show them to me. I told him I just wanted the shirt but he got them out anyway and put them against the cuffs. I said that they were very nice but I didn't want them. I just wanted the shirt. Then he said he could make me a special offer since it was Christmas Eve and he could take ten dollars off the price. Then it was twenty. Then it was thirty." She looked at them miserably. "I just wanted the shirt."

"Did you buy them?" Danny asked, angry at the blatant pressure-selling.

"No…" Annie reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of silver cufflinks.

They stared at the cufflinks and then at Annie. Neither of them was successfully computing the thought that was galloping through their heads.

"You…" It was Rusty who made his mouth work first. "You…"

Annie flushed. "I most certainly did not!"

"Sorry, Annie," Rusty apologised at once.

"He turned away to ring up the shirt in the till and then the fire-alarm went off. Staff just bundled people out of there and I grabbed the bag and left with everyone else. It wasn't until I got outside that I realised the cufflinks had fallen into the bag."

Danny glanced at Rusty. As far as he was concerned, it served the sales guy right and he could see Rusty agreed. On the other hand…

"I meant to go back and explain," Annie went on, "but I suddenly thought what if they think I stole them?"

She looked at them both with mute appeal and then flushed again. "Don't you dare laugh at me!"

Rusty took her hand. "Annie, we wouldn't-"

"-dream of it," Danny promised.

Annie smiled back at them both weakly.

"So, what do you want to do?" Danny asked her.

"What do I…?"

"What Danny means is if you've changed your mind and you want to keep the cufflinks-"

"-then all we have to do is-"

"-put the money in the-"

"-cash register and Saul has-"

"-an extra extra present."

Annie shook her head vehemently. "No. No."

"OK, OK," Rusty said soothingly. "Then we'll just-"

"-put them back," Danny smiled, picking the cufflinks up.

They left Annie at the diner with coffee and sandwiches and cake and reassurances and the promise that they'd be back within the hour.

The department store was a couple of minutes up the street and was recovering from the earlier evacuation.

"False alarm, everyone!" the floor manager was shouting from the main doorway. "Please come back in!"

Danny and Rusty made their way to the menswear department. From the description that Annie had given, it wasn't hard to spot the sales guy in question. Late-twenties, ginger hair, with a sharp, foxy face and greedy eyes and a name badge that labelled him "Les", monopolising the counter where the trays of cufflinks and other accessories glinted behind the front glass.

"First task…"

"…observation."

Danny jerked his head towards the nearby tie-racks. "Shall we?"

Observation, under the cover of browsing the racks, showed them that Les definitely wanted more than the basic the store was paying him.

"Must be on commission for extra sales," Danny murmured as they watched him try to upsell to every customer.

"Yeah…" Rusty was watching the man's hands intently as he served a middle-aged lady who was buying a shirt and shaking her head at the extra purchase Les was suggesting. "Did you see that?"

Danny's face tightened. "He slipped the tie-clip in the bag anyway."

"Well, that doesn't make any-" Rusty frowned. "Accomplice?"

"For a tie-pin he could lift anyway? That doesn't make any…" Danny was watching the woman and then stiffened because someone else was watching the woman too, a man in a grey suit moving through the shoppers, following her. "C'mon."

They trailed after the pair of them. Just outside the store, the man in the suit stopped the woman and then…

"Ah…" Rusty exhaled. "Now it makes sense."

They watched the silent play unfold as the man reached into the bag and pulled out the tie-clip; as the shocked woman protested her innocence; as the man shook his head, pocketed the tie-clip and gestured towards the store; as the woman begged, wide-eyed; as the man appeared to reconsider and to make an offer; as the woman scrabbled in her purse and brought out cash, pushed it at the man, pleading with him to take it.

"Because it's Christmas tomorrow," Rusty said heavily.

"And she doesn't want to be arrested." Danny couldn't keep the disgust from his voice as the man tucked the money into his inside pocket and the woman was sent on her way. "Fuck, that's low."

"Annie." Rusty's voice was cold with anger.

The anger hit Danny too. If there hadn't been the alarm, if Annie hadn't been lost with the rest of the shoppers, then this would have been Annie, accosted with money being extorted from her.

"We're going to fix this," Danny said grimly.

The tie-clip was passed back to Les, ready to be dropped into another unsuspecting shopper's bag. Grey Suit lingered ready to pursue their next target.

"You know any of the real detectives?" Danny asked.

"Not on a friendly basis."

"Still. They're easy enough to spot."

They were for the professional conman. Just like in a casino, they were the people who were scrutinising the blind spots and just like any bodyguard, they were the people whose eyes never stopped roving, searching for transgressors.

"Right. Let's tackle the money-man first." Danny turned to Rusty. "You think they only hit on women?"

"Well, I'm not wearing high heels to find out. See you at the door."

Danny blocked his path. "Who said you get to play?"

There was a look of obstinacy on Rusty's face that Danny was beginning to recognise. "This is for Annie."

And that was indeed reason enough.

Danny melted into the background as Rusty picked up a pink shiny shirt and approached the counter and Les.

"Hello, sir, can I help you?"

"Oh, I hope so," Rusty smiled up under his eyelashes. "What do you think would go well with this?"

It was a man's silver bracelet that Les slipped in with the pink shirt. Danny was waiting as Rusty emerged, followed by Grey Suit.

"Excuse me, sir." Grey Suit's hand fell heavily on Rusty's shoulder. "I have been observing you and I have reason to believe you have something not belonging to you in your possession."

Rusty made a fine job of spluttering innocence which choked off into wide-eyed horror as Grey Suit reached into the bag and pulled out the bracelet. Grey Suit shook his head and tucked the bracelet into his jacket pocket.

"If you'd like to accompany me back into the store, sir, I think we should see about calling the police."

"Police" was the magic word to galvanise Rusty into action, launching himself at Grey Suit, imploring him, gripping his lapels and begging Grey Suit not to do anything rash, pushing Grey Suit a step backwards to where Danny was waiting to lift the bracelet.

Grey Suit looked taken aback by the physical. He disentangled himself from Rusty and straightened his suit.

"No need for dramatics, sir," he said crossly. "I'm sure we can come to some sort of an arrangement. What with it being Christmas and all. Fifty dollars maybe?"

Danny circled round behind Rusty and as soon as his fingers closed over the wad of money that Rusty passed him, Rusty went on the attack.

"Fifty dollars? Fifty dollars?"

His voice was shrill and carried. A small circle of interested people started to form.

"Alright, thirty. Let's say thirty," Grey Suit suggested hastily. "After all, the store's got its merchandise back. There's no real harm done, is there?"

"No." Rusty was indignant. "I didn't steal anything. Take me to the police and I'll tell them that too."

Grey Suit blinked. "What?"

"Take me to the police! Take me to the manager! I demand that you let me have my say!"

"Now, then," Grey Suit licked his lips. "It's OK. You can just go."

Rusty appealed to the audience. "First, he accuses me of stealing a bracelet and then he tries to ask for money to forget all about it!"

"I heard him," Danny said in a loud voice. "He wanted fifty dollars! Outrageous behaviour!"

There was a general chorus of agreement.

"You should be ashamed of yourself!" someone piped up. "Harassing this poor young man!"

"Blackmailing him!"

"Bet you planted that bracelet on him!"

Just inside the store, Danny found the nearest shop assistant.

"There's a dreadful commotion outside. I think security ought to have a look at it."

Commotion in the doorway dissuaded shoppers from entering and spending money. Danny wasn't surprised to see security arrive swiftly. They marched Grey Suit into the store accompanied by an incensed Rusty who was declaring that he'd lived in this town for a number of years and had never been treated like this.

Well, that was Grey Suit taken care of. Now for Les.

Les Dibdale was feeling pretty happy with himself. He and Rafferty had a good little number going. His job was to watch out for the customers who looked like they'd fold easily – middle-aged, respectable women or slightly effete pretty boys like the last guy – people who'd never dream of shoplifting and who would be horrified to be accused of such a crime. Rafferty's part was to lean on them, just slightly, and to ask for a small sum to make the whole nasty nightmare go away. Who wouldn't pay for peace of mind? Apart from that hiccup with the fire alarm earlier, it had worked really smoothly. Still, the missing goods wouldn't get picked up till the New Year stocktake and Les was willing to bet they'd just get written off as shrinkage.

They'd been at this game for a few days now. It worked best the closer you got to Christmas and with his share of proceedings together with the money from his actual bonus, Les was looking forward to a very happy holiday that might last into the New Year as well.

Thing was, Rafferty should have been back by now with the bracelet. Les frowned to himself as he took payment for a silver tie that the customer wanted wrapping. Maybe there was more fight to the pretty boy than he'd thought. Well, as long as Rafferty got the bracelet back – that was the main thing.

Les made a neat job with the gift-paper. He'd always been good with his hands and proud of it. He'd hoped Rafferty would reappear by the time he'd finished but as he handed the package to the grateful customer there was still no sign of Rafferty. There was, however, sign of Dickson and Sloane, two of the harder members of store security and Miss Jenkins from ladieswear.

"Please will you accompany us to the manager's office, Les," Sloane said. "Miss Jenkins will look after things here."

"To the manager's office?" Les said faintly.

"That's right, Les," Dickson confirmed. "Now."

As if in a dream, he stepped round the counter and there was the grateful customer again, clapping him on the shoulder and shaking his hand and thanking him effusively for doing such a good job with the present and wishing him a merry Christmas.

"Same to you," Les said automatically and tried to cling on to the ordinary and the normal and the safe. "If you want something else-"

Sloane and Dickson closed ranks round him, cutting off the spiel.

"No more selling, Les," Dickson said. "Time to do some talking."

As he walked into the manager's office, Les's heart sank as he saw the pretty boy and Rafferty waiting. Something had gone very wrong indeed.

George Collins, the manager, was glaring at him from the other side of the desk. "We've got some pretty strong accusations going on here, Dibdale. Take a seat."

Rafferty was trying to tell him something without saying any words but Les didn't know what. He licked his lips and sat down.

"This young man has been accused of theft by this man," Collins jerked a finger in Rafferty's direction, "who then demanded money." Collins tapped the carrier bag on the desk. "He was served by you, Dibdale. What light can you shed on the matter?"

Les licked his lips again and focused on the carrier bag. "The pink shirt? Oh, I remember the pink shirt. You were thinking of having something to go with it, weren't you? Then you changed your mind."

"Mostly because you were busy pressure-selling like there was no tomorrow."

Funny, but the pretty boy's voice had grown stronger and his eyes which had been full of simper were now full of ice. Les looked away quickly and gave Collins a watery smile that asked for understanding.

"I did my best to persuade him, sir. What with sales targets and all."

Collins wasn't having any of it. "And when the gentleman said no, what did you do then?"

There couldn't be anything to link this back to him. Could there? Rafferty had done the stopping and accusing. As long as Rafferty held his nerve, there wasn't any need to worry. Les took a breath.

"Well, I just took the money for the shirt and bagged it up. I don't know what's going on here, Mr Collins, but I've done nothing wrong and I don't like the way you're talking to me as if I have."

His voice grew louder and more confident.

"If you ask me, this gentleman," he waved a hand at Rafferty, "probably witnessed the theft and decided to challenge the shoplifter. I'm sure he would have brought the bracelet back into the store and returned it like an honest citizen. If you ask me, we ought to be thanking him for helping us out.

It was Rafferty's word against the pretty boy. Les was certain Rafferty could embrace the story he'd set up for him. As it was, Collins was looking less sure of matters. Les smiled to himself. It took a lot smarter man to catch him out.

"Who said it was a bracelet?" the pretty boy asked softly.

Les stared at him and quailed under the ice-blue gaze. He felt sweaty all of a sudden and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to mop his forehead. Something glinted and fell to the floor and Dickson snatched it up.

"Men's bracelet and a pair of cufflinks, Mr Collins."

Les stared at the jewellery in shock. "I can't…I don't know how…"

"You want to turn out the rest of your pockets, Les?"

Sloane didn't wait for an answer. He rifled through Les's jacket and then exclaimed and tossed the bundle of cash onto the desk.

"Money from the tills, Les?" Dickson asked.

"No! I don't where that came from!" Les's mouth was slack with horror. What was Rafferty playing at? "You've got to believe me! I didn't take it! And I didn't take the cufflinks or the bracelet!"

"Call the police, would you, Sloane?" Mr Collins looked like he'd made up his mind.

"It wasn't my idea," Les heard himself saying. "I just went along with it." He pointed an accusing finger. "Rafferty suggested it."

"And then Rafferty did this sort of snarlroar thing," Rusty said, licking the chocolate frosting off his fork, "and flew at Les and security had to call for more security to calm things down until the police arrived."

"You need to leave your details?"

"Nah. They'd pretty much confessed by the time I left. Busy blaming each other."

Danny drank the last of his coffee and smiled at Annie walking back from the diner's restroom. Under the table, his leg leaned against Rusty's in warning.

Rusty turned round in his seat. "You OK, Annie?"

"I am now, dear," she said as she sat down. "Thank you both so much for returning those cufflinks. You're sure no one saw you?"

"Positive," Rusty assured her. "Little bit of distraction, little misdirection and all's well."

The relief on Annie's face was palpable. "I can enjoy Christmas now." She looked at her watch. "We should be getting back."

Danny kept all the tension where only Rusty could read it. Rusty stood up.

"You've had a bit of a shock, Annie. Best let me drive back."

Once they were home, Annie disappeared into the kitchen, shooing them both into the lounge where there was Saul and there was a deck of cards and where time evaporated happily until dinner. Dinner brought the story of the cufflinks from Annie.

"I'm so glad Danny and Rusty were there," she said happily.

"Fifty minutes to put them back?" Saul remarked mildly as soon as Annie had gone to the kitchen to retrieve dessert. "You want to tell me the rest of the story?"

Danny and Rusty exchanged glances.

"Couple of people weren't joining in with the Christmas spirit," Danny said.

"All about the taking and not the giving. Or in this case, the planting and the extortion," Rusty added and Saul's brows darkened.

"So we thought we'd encourage them to see the error of their ways."

"Confession being good for the soul."

"It's finished?" Saul asked sharply.

"Yes." Rusty's reply was definite.

Saul harrumphed. "Then I guess we can get on with Christmas."

Annie had started to clear the dishes and Rusty was on his feet at once.

"Danny and I'll do the washing up, Annie. You go and sit down."

He took hold of the plates in her hand but she didn't let go of them.

"I still have to prepare for tomorrow."

Rusty pulled a little harder on the plates. "But you don't have to do the washing up. We'll come through when we're finished."

The tug-of-war was definitely being won by Rusty but still Annie held on.

"But Danny doesn't know where everything goes."

"I do. Go and sit down."

Annie opened her mouth to argue further and Rusty sighed loudly.

"Saul? You want to pick her up and carry her into the living-room?"

Annie let out a squeal and let go of the crockery. "Don't you dare!"

Saul stood up and caught hold of her hand. "Then don't make me. Rusty's right. Come and put your feet up for a bit."

Still weakly protesting, Annie let herself be led away.

"You don't play fair," Danny commented with a smile.

Rusty grinned. "You've only just noticed?"

Danny stood at the sink with his sleeves rolled up, his forearms covered in bubbles. Rusty had been enthusiastic with the detergent. He scrubbed at a recalcitrant lump of dinner on a dish and gradually realised that the comfortable silence had changed.

He turned his head to where Rusty was leaning up against a worktop, tea-towel in hand and Danny had to ask.

What?

There was a hesitation in Rusty that Danny didn't understand and then Rusty shrugged as if making up his mind.

"It's a two-way street, Danny. Between us, I mean."

Danny frowned. Of course it was. That sort of thing didn't need to be stated.

"So, at the risk of freaking you out," Rusty said softly, "I'd like to know."

Like to know…? Enlightenment dawned. Danny took a deep breath.

"Christmas was…observed in our house when I was growing up. Father had the house decorated. On Christmas Day, we sat down and had a meal together which was an occasion in itself."

He thought about those meals, his father at the head of the table, his mother and him one side and Cole and Randall the other. About the long silence that no one interrupted either because they couldn't or wouldn't.

"To be honest, I tried to escape as quickly as I could. It wasn't a fun place to be."

Rusty was staring at him intently. "But you had presents."

Danny shrugged. "Probably. When I was young, I mean. From the age of five upwards, I just remember a card with money inside."

"Money for you to buy toys and stuff," Rusty persisted.

Danny smiled. "Well, I didn't hold on to it long enough to find out. It was always invested for me."

Rusty stared at him.

"So they gave you money," he said slowly, "and then they took it away again."

"I guess," Danny nodded. He saw the expression on Rusty's face. "Look, I didn't miss out on anything."

Rusty silently begged to differ.

"I had some people in the house who looked after me," Danny went on. "Made a fuss of me with cookies and cards any time of the year, not just Christmas."

He swallowed hard and deliberately turned his attention back to the stubborn something on the plate.

"Anyway. After my father died and I was at school, the teachers never made that great a deal out of Christmas. We had a tree and we had a Christmas lunch."

Pre-sliced turkey cooked with all the love and attention of dinner-ladies who really didn't want to be working on the holidays.

"And once the meal was over, we were pretty much left to our own…"

Danny broke off, suddenly aware of the fierce rage burning alongside him and bewildered, he looked at Rusty, unblinking, his fingers knotted into the tea-towel.

"They left you at school?" It sounded like Rusty was having difficulty getting the words out. "They left you at school for the Christmas holidays?"

Danny's face betrayed him.

"All holidays?"

Yes. All holidays. Yes. Yes, he'd been on his own and cut loose. Yes. Yes, it had hurt and yes, he'd handled it. Yes. At least he didn't have to say the word out loud.

Rusty wasn't coping well with the knowledge. Danny could feel the wave of unvoiced anger directed fruitlessly backwards at what had happened over a decade ago.

Oh, Rus.

Impulsively, he reached out a soapy hand and gripped Rusty's arm. "It's OK. It's done with."

Rusty's smile was without humour.

Like that makes a difference.

And that would be his own argument played back to him. Danny's shoulders sagged a little.

"Yeah," he acknowledged quietly, squeezing Rusty's arm.

"You boys finished up yet-oh!"

Annie was stood in the doorway, surprise on her face and Danny wondered why right up to the point where he realised that he was still holding on to Rusty. He let his arm drop back casually to his side.

"Near enough, Annie," Rusty said calmly. "We'll be in in a few minutes."

"OK," Annie said just a little too brightly and disappeared.

Rusty glanced down at the wet marks on his turquoise shirt and gave a rueful smile. Danny felt his own lips curve upwards in reply. Rusty's expression grew serious again.

"Other Christmases," he said.

Other Christmases. Other lives. Danny nodded. Things were different now. Inside, he felt something give. In a good way. He nodded again and they continued with the washing up, the silence once again comfortable.

Dishes washed, dried and put away, they walked into the living-room and Annie jumped up and disappeared into the kitchen, firmly declining any help. Saul pulled out a bottle of malt and poured three glasses.

"Has Rusty every told you about the first job we worked on together? Guy named Moss Levene."

Danny sat and sipped the warming liquid and listened as story followed story complete with asides from Rusty: the stories warmed in a different way and he watched the love and the trust expressed in anecdotes and smiles.

"I'll go and see if Annie's got anything she'd like to run past us," Rusty offered, standing up and leaving the room.

Saul's gaze followed him, full of open affection. He caught Danny's eyes on him and cleared his throat.

"Can't properly remember what life was like before him," he said gruffly.

Yeah. Danny could relate to that. Seemed like life had really started in a bar and over a game of cards and on a beach and standing in a car park. He nodded, partly to himself, partly to Saul.

"It's good that you two found each other," Saul said unexpectedly. "I always thought I knew when Rusty was happy. Now I'm sure I do."

The flush of pleasure at Saul's words rose up through Danny and broke out in a wide smile. He couldn't even think what to say in reply but judging by the look on Saul's face, he didn't need to.

The moment melted away with Rusty's reappearance clutching a plate piled high with home-made little cakes.

"Had to promise Annie we wouldn't disturb her again," he said, offering the plate to Saul.

Saul took a cake. "So you brought double rations?"

Rusty grinned and held out the plate to Danny. "It'll save a trip, right?"

"Right," Danny agreed with a smile, helping himself and watching Rusty do the same. "For ten minutes, at least."

Saul let out a guffaw. "As long as that?"

It was gone ten o'clock when Annie joined them again, declaring herself as prepared as possible. They sat together chatting for a while and watching TV and then all said their goodnights. Danny came back from the bathroom to find Rusty sitting on one end of the campbed with a bottle of malt and two glasses.

"I've cleaned my teeth," Danny pointed out without any real complaint.

"Alcohol's a sterilising agent," Rusty said with certainty.

"Good enough for me," Danny smiled as he sat down beside him and held the glasses as Rusty poured. "You want to propose a toast?"

Rusty shrugged. "To whisky?"

Danny chuckled and chinked glasses. "Well, that works."

"It's midnight," Rusty declared.

Danny was sure it was actually quarter-past eleven. His left eyebrow said as much. By way of answer, Rusty brandished his wrist-watch.

"It's midnight," he said again. "My watch says so."

"Well…" Danny's brain caught up. "Happy Christmas, Rusty."

Rusty nodded with a grin. "Happy Christmas, Danny."

Christmas. Which meant…

"Presents?" Danny checked, amused.

Rusty put down his glass and produced a large brightly-wrapped present from the side of the bed, pushed it into Danny's lap.

Danny looked at the expectant expression on Rusty's face and then set aside his whisky and turned his attention to the present, stripping off the paper and opening the box. He pulled out the ceramic fat cat cookie jar and smiled.

"Is this to help me not run out of cookies?"

"Exactly."

Danny shook it gently. "You filled it up-"

"-with my favourites," Rusty nodded.

The smile broadened on Danny's face.

Of course.

"Got you this as well."

Danny tore open the small package and stared at the little silver cardcase. He turned it over in his hands and saw his name printed in elegantly flowing script. Suddenly he was aware of Rusty watching him anxiously.

"It's wonderful, Rus. Thank you," he said sincerely and saw Rusty's expression relax.

Yeah. Well, he could understand the hope that presents were well-received. Also, well-concealed. This one had taken considerable effort to hide from Rusty both unwrapped and wrapped. Danny pulled the present from underneath the bed. "Here you go."

Reverently, Rusty took the gift and then shot Danny a grin and ripped off the paper in a manner that was less about the reverence and more about the eagerness.

Rusty's face lit up at the sight of the framed original half-sheet poster of "The Sting" and Danny wanted to start talking about how watching Rusty deal cards was mesmerising - never mind about the mesmerising, about how working with him was magic, about the wonderful – forget the wonderful, about the together and the amazing and the -

Rusty's eyes told him words weren't necessary and a hundred other things. Danny distinctly heard the word "Idiot" and "Of course" and "Two-way, remember?".

"I'm Redford, right?"

"You've got the hair for it," Danny agreed and then reached into his holdall and produced an envelope. "There's something else."

"Christmas card?" Rusty ran a finger round his mouth. "I didn't get you-"

"It's not a card. It's not even particularly a Christmas present – just that the paperwork came through a couple of days ago."

Rusty opened it up, pulling out the contents and reading them. Eyes wide, he looked up at Danny.

"This…this says…"

"Half the apartment's yours." Danny gave a shrug. "I mean it is anyway. Just that the other week, I wished that I'd..."

The other week when he was lying on the floor of the safe that Alexander Lowmen had locked him into and he'd thought he was going to die and he'd wanted Rusty to have choices.

"Anyway," Danny went on, "I thought I'd do something about it."

There was a myriad of emotions in Rusty's face and Danny smiled, silently acknowledging every single one of them.

Happy Christmas.

Always.

"Oh!" Danny exclaimed, remembering. "Here. Got you an extra present."

Rusty pulled the silver tie out of the store gift-wrap.

"Thanks," he grinned with genuine appreciation. "I got you an extra present too."

Danny's face fell. "It's not that pink shirt, is it?"

"That shirt would be wasted on you," Rusty told him seriously. He handed Danny a piece of paper.

Curious, Danny read it.

"Saul's punch recipe," Rusty explained. "Thought we could give it a try at New Year."

And wrapped up in that was possibly the best Christmas present that Rusty could give him: the promise that 1983 would begin the way 1982 was ending - together.

Danny tipped his glass. "Look forward to it."

Christmas Day 1982

Christmas morning and there was breakfast accompanied by presents or possibly presents accompanied by breakfast. Much laughter and delight and Saul and Annie had showered them both with gifts, much to Danny's surprise.

"Just go with it," Rusty muttered sotto voce and Danny took his advice, thanking Saul and Annie out loud and silently.

Other Christmas days flashed through Danny's head – not just the early ones or the ones at Weston Harkett but the one spent in desperate searching and the one with the Idaho con where dates had had no meaning and then last year at the Four Seasons helping Paul. None of them had felt like this. No Christmas had ever felt like this.

And then unasked, Annie was putting more bagels on Danny's plate and Saul was suggesting a game of cards before lunch and Rusty was looking sideways at him with just the same deep, unguarded affection that he looked at Saul and Annie and the happy welled up inside Danny and spilled over in his face.

A family. His family.

Danny loved it.