MERRY a day late CHRISTMAS!

 *Jack stumbles in while balancing a plate of cookies which she somehow manages not to spill into the fire.* TADA! *She sets them on the table* That is talent for me!

 I'm here for a few reasons. One is to share the cookies, which I didn't make - good news for all of you - the other is to wish you all a Merry Little Christmas. And the third is to share my short, Christmas story! And that is all!

 The airship drifted lazily through the thick clouds. Snow drifted past the window, large flakes which made the world appear warmer then it actually was. Inside, though, the disillusion was easy to believe. Heat drifted through every inch of the Zeppelin, filling the Piloting Deck with warmth, which was made hot by the added heat of the packed bodies inside.

Balancing on chairs, Peter and Darcy were trying to hang up garland while Tony and Steed held to the chairs in the hopes that they wouldn't tip. At the wheel, Kirk leaned, pretending to steer though really he was just trying to keep awake. Peter saw him, from time to time, yawning so wide it looked as if his jaws were about to unhinge.

“Hey!” Darcy suddenly snapped when Peter again got distracted by Kirk's yawn. His eyes almost disappeared. “Watch it! You're going to get both our necks broken!”

Peter turned back to look at Darcy. He held one end of the garland, Darcy holding to the other and trying to hang it over the window at the same time. Nails were sticking in the tail end of his shirt and he clenched a hammer as if he planned to kill someone with it. (Peter wouldn't have put the hammer killing past him.)

“I'm holding the branches, just like you said,” Peter muttered. His arms were getting tired from holding to the long, prickly boroughs and he had pine needles stuck in his hair.

“Are you complaining, Pete?” Tony asked. He looked up, loosening his grip just a little on Darcy's chair. Peter was waiting for Tony to purposely tip Darcy over. How he had ended up holding his chair and Steed holding Peter's was beyond him.

“No,” Peter murmured. He didn't meet his friend's eye, just concentrated on keeping a firm hold on the garland.

“Good,” Steed muttered from the back of the chair, “because it is almost Christmas and it was your idea to string branches all over my airship.”

“It was Darcy's idea just as much as mine,” Peter pointed out.

Darcy said nothing, just stretched, balancing on tip toe as he tried to get the last of his end of the garland up into corner above the window. He was an inch too short to reach but refused to give up. Peter watched silently as he fought to keep upright, his tongue sticking out of one side of his mouth as he concentrated.

“Would you like me to do that for you?” Steed asked lazily.

“No,” Darcy grunted.

Tony shifted his feet and Steed glared at him, so Tony glared back. Peter dropped his arms just a little, which were getting sore from holding the branches up, and Kirk choice that moment to snap awake. Only he did more then that. He came out of his light doze fighting and spun the wheel so hard all those not attached to something dived head first into something else.

In the Piloting Deck, the chairs slid across the floor, out of Steed and Tony's grasps who were thrown to the ground. Peter fought to keep his balance but it was a lost cause when Darcy lost his and crashed into him. Both flew off the chairs and hit the floor, garland crashing down on top of them. The hammer flew out of Darcy's hand, coming dangerously close to smashing the window.

When Kirk managed to right the airship, Darcy and Peter crawled out from under each other and the mass of pine branches which were pricking through their shirts. Peter pushed himself to his feet and tried to brush some of the pine needles from his hair. Darcy was covered in green. The needles stuck upright in his hair and he had many poking in his clothing. He looked like a hedgehog.

“What are you trying to do, kill us?” Steed snapped as he too got to his feet. He glared hard at his yawning Pilot.

“Not intentionally,” Kirk murmured around another wide yawn. “I kind of fell asleep.”

“Really?” Darcy plucked pine needles from his shirt. “I never would have guessed.”

Peter silently examined the window. In their fall, he and Darcy had managed to pull down most of the garland. Bits of green were still up, where the nails held them in place, but most of the branches lay on the floor in a sorry state. Darcy eyed the slaughtered mess and rolled his eyes.

“Now we need more garland,” he muttered, scowling sideways at Kirk.

Kirk bit back another yawn. “We can get a tree when we land this time,” he pointed out.

Talking of a tree made Peter grin. He couldn't help but think of the tree he, Tony, Hannah, and O'Brien had put up last Christmas. Hopefully this time the tree gathering would cause less injuries.

His eyes drifted down to the battlefield of garland, then up to Darcy. On second thought, he figured he should prepare for an even bigger disaster.

***

Despite Peter's doubts and fears, chopping the tree down didn't land anyone in the medical room. They even got it safely on board, hung up the garland, strung popcorn, and lit the candles without anymore crashes.

As Peter and Tony draped the last of the popcorn strands about the tree's branches, Peter felt the same stab of doubt hit him. Should he be celebrating Christmas on board the Air Pirate Zeppelin? Surely this broke every rule in the book and sealed his fate as a traitor. Yet, he had celebrated Jesus' birth every Christmas for as long as he could remember. To skip a year of remembering the day his Savior had come to earth, the day He gave up His throne in Heaven to live as a man, didn't seem right.

That was how Peter Jones, former Aeropilot from the Scottish Royal Air Force, came to be lighting candles in the Piloting Deck on Christmas Eve. Tony was with him, as well as Darcy, Steed, Kirk, Alfie, and many of the other men. The cook had outdone himself and somehow managed to bake cookies which weren't as hard as rocks and black. The smell of hot chocolate filled the room as Darcy and Peter stuck the last of the candles into the tree.

“Don't catch it on fire, Jones,” Darcy warned.

Peering through the branches, Peter saw he was smirking. Darcy Steed was actually being nice to him. Peter smirked back, wondering how long it would last.

“I'll wait till after Christmas to blow us up,” he promised.

“Wouldn't put it past you,” Darcy replied.

Peter wished he could understand Darcy. Most of the time he acted as if he'd like nothing more then to take his head off with the sword he wore at his belt. Yet, when Peter was least expecting it, Darcy would show him kindness. Sometimes Peter wished they could be friends, other times he wished he could find one of Kirk's hiding places.

“Aren't you going to come and have some of the cookies?” Darcy asked. He moved from out behind the tree and picked wax off the shirt of his sleeve.

Sticking the last of his candles into its hold, Peter rubbed sap off of his hands while he nodded his head. “I'm right behind you,” he reassured.

Darcy strutted off and Peter trailed behind, glancing at the men around him. He decided it wouldn't hurt things if he, for one night at least, allowed himself to think of the pirates as friends.