Author's Notes: This story is the entry for the annual Christmas Fanfic Challenge on The Closer Forum. A few things before we get started...

I am trying something a little different here. Having been inspired by my fellow writers on the board, the point of view will switch around with each chapter, and I'm hoping I won't make you too dizzy. I'm trying to keep the chapters short, and there will probably be a lot of them. This year, I plan to have the Christmas story done before Christmas. We shall see.

In terms of timeline, the story takes place one year after the events of "Welcome Her Home," which is to say, Season 2 of Major Crimes. Keeping with my own "Welcome" cannon (someone tell me to get over myself), Brenda and Fritz have a house in Sharon Raydor's neighborhood, Fritz and Brenda are friendly with Sharon, and Rusty and Brenda are pretty tight. However, the whole "scary letter" storyline doesn't exist here. Clear as mud, right?

I chose this title because Mel Torme's version of "The Christmas Song" is my favorite carol. And this story is going to be told to you, indeed, in many ways.

If you just put on your new flannel PJ's and poured yourself a cup of cocoa, hoping I would write a pure Brenda/Fritz fic, you should go back and read my story from last year, "The Christmas of Us." Angsty, yet sexy and sweet. This story will have our sweeties, but a lot of other characters too.


Fritz was so hungry he was ready to eat his own arm. He didn't have a chance to grab a snack between working out and his regular 7PM AA meeting. He hoped Brenda had cooked tonight, something that happened more frequently now she was working at the DA's office and, to his surprise, occasionally produced a dish besides clam linguini or meat loaf. Disappointment greeted Fritz when he unlocked the front door to his house and found it dark and still, void of the warmth and homey smells of a dinner in progress. Where was Brenda?

He made a beeline for the kitchen, and right as his fingers grazed the fridge, the phone rang. Thinking it was Brenda explaining her whereabouts, he grabbed it without checking caller ID. The sound of sobbing on the other end stopped him cold.

"Brenda?" He instantly went on alert.

The caller mumbled and sniffled loudly. Fritz pulled the phone away from his ear and looked to see the Caller ID.

"Claire?" he asked, surprised. His manic sister wasn't one to call him and cry on the phone; in fact, he didn't think he had heard her cry since their parents died years ago. Claire was all about being happy and light and up, up, up all the time, no matter what the circumstances. It about drove him crazy.

Indecipherable muttering was the only response he got from his sister.

"Claire," he said firmly, his blood sugar dipping a few more points, "what the hell is wrong? Get ahold of yourself and talk to me. Did someone die?"

Fritz could hear her take deep, gulping breaths, like the kind he took after sprinting the last few blocks of his morning run. Finally, a weak and unrecognizable voice came on. "No Fritz, no one died." And then fresh, heaving tears emitted from her.

Now that he knew death was not involved, he drifted over the cabinet and grabbed one of Brenda's Ho Hos for a quick sugar fix, not knowing how long he was going to be on the phone. He poured himself a glass of milk and sat down at the kitchen table, tearing open the Hostess package with his teeth. "Claire, please stop crying and tell me what's wrong." He tried to soften his tone but he was hungry and tired, and Claire took more patience to deal with than he had at the moment.

"I'm trying!" a watery voice said, and then Claire blew her nose loudly into the phone. Fritz stuffed the entire Ho Ho in his mouth, gulping the milk chaser like a shot of whiskey. These aren't half bad, he thought. Hypoglycemia averted, he felt a little more able to deal with drama.

"I'm just worried, honey. Are you sick or hurt?"

"Oh, I'm hurt alright!" Claire's voice was cotton-thick from her tears. "Carl, that jerk…" And the blubbering started anew.

Fritz didn't need Claire to tell the story. He knew. Claire never had much luck at relationships. In his opinion, once the men she dated moved past the early stage where all you want to do is have sex, they realized how truly annoying Claire can be. The longest Claire ever dated someone was just shy of a year, and Fritz strongly suspected the longevity of that relationship was due to the fact that her college boyfriend was hearing impaired.

I might need more sugar, he thought. This is going to be a multi-Ho Ho conversation. Did I do enough cardio to eat two desserts? He envied Brenda's high metabolism. God, I really miss booze sometimes.

Fritz was so distracted thinking about his snack that he hadn't noticed the avalanche of words pouring out of Claire, tripping over one another. He caught small clumps of them between her sniffles and sobs.

" … Carl said he was really in to me…even took him to a tantric sex workshop and….…and I found him making out with Marcie during a Solstice ritual!"

He opened up a second Ho Ho. "Oh Claire, I'm sorry. You deserve so much better than Carl. He's an idiot to give you up," he said, in his best "I'm-on-your-side-no-matter-how-crazy-you-are-so-please-calm-down" voice he had perfected with Brenda.

Claire was off rambling again. "Was gonna be the first time he brought someone home…his sister's house in Vermont…teach me to ski…so now I have to come to California for Christmas, can't stand to be alone this year…."

Fritz dropped the remains of his Ho Hos on the table. What did she just say? Come to California for Christmas? No, no, no, can't be done, Brenda's father was coming. Did he even invite Claire? A conversation from early autumn flitted through his mind, when she was nagging him about coming to New Jersey to visit, and he murmured something noncommittal like, "well, you can come visit us for Christmas if you want" as a way of putting her off. Only Claire would interpret that as a real invitation.

Fritz tried to break into her tear-soaked rant. "Claire, what was that you said about Christmas? Because—"

"I said I'm taking you up on your offer to come to LA. I just can't stay here in New Jersey, Fritz. Carl and I have so many friends in common that we are bound to run into each other. And maybe the sunshine will cheer me up a little." Sniff.

She can't come. Clay Johnson was already booked as the holiday guest, there wasn't room, and what a combination. In his gentle big brother voice, he said, "Claire, Brenda and I love you, you know that, but…"

"Oh Fritz, I know you do!" She blew her nose again. "I am so glad to have you guys, I really am. No one can make me feel better than you. I'm really…" her voice cracked…lucky."

He thought fast. Christmas was only a week away. Surely Claire couldn't afford the last minute airfare! With a sinking feeling, he knew she could. They both had sizable inheritances, although Claire had spent a fair amount of hers on her exercise studio endeavor. Maybe there won't be any flights available this late, he thought. This problem could take care of itself. But if there are…

"But Claire…" Fritz was distracted by the jingle of Brenda's keys at the front door. Despite his frustration with Claire, a wave of warmth passed through him, and he silently chanted his mantra, vestigial from her days at the LAPD: "she's home and she's safe." Brenda entered the kitchen moments, her arms laden with packages. She smiled brightly when she saw Fritz, but then she noticed the empty Ho Ho wrappers on the table, and her smile quickly turned into a frown.

"Is that Claire?" she mouthed, pointing to the phone. He nodded.

Brenda waived, motioning to him to pass along her greeting. He shook his head slightly to indicate there was a problem."But Claire, " he said, looking straight at Brenda, "how are you going to get a flight out here so close to Christmas? It's going to cost a fortune."

Brenda's face turned white. "No!" she mouthed, wildly waving her hands. "Daddy's comin' for Christmas!" She made a slashing motion across her throat. "No Claire!" she mouthed. "NO CLARE!"

Fritz put his hand over the receiver. "You need to hear what I'm hearing," he whispered. He turned back to his sister and said, "I'm sorry Claire, but Brenda just came in, and she wants to hear what happened with Carl. I'm going to put you on speaker phone, okay?"

The kitchen was instantly filled with the sound of hysterical sobbing.


An hour later, after a quick dinner of leftover soup, Fritz lie in bed, trying to tune out Brenda.

"Now tell me again," she said, as she paced the floor, "how it came to pass that you invited Claire to Christmas when you knew my daddy was coming." She stopped moving and stared at him, arms crossed. "I need you to review the events that's leadin' up to the utter fiasco of a holiday we are goin' to have. Go ahead." She waived her arm in a sweeping gesture.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "For the last time, Brenda, it was an offhand remark I made in September about her possibly coming out for the holiday. I had no idea she was going to be an emotional wreck after being dumped by her boyfriend right before Christmas and take that as a firm invitation. If she wasn't crazed this evening I would have told her she couldn't come because your father I going to be here. And I will call her tomorrow and tell her that, I promise. But you heard how upset she was, Brenda. There was no way I could tell her tonight that she can't come to LA. She's an utter mess."

Brenda bit her lip and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Gettin' dumped is hard," she said softly, her anger from the moment before nowhere to be seen. Her mood swings are so rapid she gives me whiplash, Fritz thought.

"She was with this guy for six months, Brenda. It's not like she's getting a divorce. She'll be okay."

Brenda frowned at him. "Well, that's insensitive. What a great big brother you are."

"Hey, whose side are you on? I'm just saying that I'll break the news to her when she's not a basket case and it' will be okay. You were the one who was just cross-examining me about how I accidentally let an invitation slip out. Geez, Brenda, pick a mood and stick with it."

Brenda fell quiet and had a look of long ago sadness on her face, a look she wore when she went to dark places in her past he wished she never revisited. Fritz hoped he hadn't chased her there.

He put his hand on her knee. "Honey, you okay?"

Brenda's eyes refocused and she nodded. "Tell your sister to pack her bags and come on out here. No one should be alone for the holidays." She nodded her in that way she does when she's made a decision.

Fritz was floored. "Brenda, you're nuts. We can't have both her and your dad out here at the same time. We only have one guest room. And they will drive each other crazy. They will drive us crazy! You just said…"

"I've made up my mind, Fritz," she said. "We can get an air mattress for your study, and Claire can stay there. It will be fine. The more the merrier." She got up and walked to the bathroom, her signal that the conversation was over.

Holy crap, this is a recipe for disaster, he thought.

End Chapter 1

The formula is easy. Reviews=happy writers. Happy writers=prolific writers. Prolific writers=more fanfic stories. More fanfic writers=happier YOU. See how that works?

5