Merry Christmas, Detectives

01}}You Should Smile More

Wandering down the aisle of Walmart, Haiden crossed another name off her list. Of course, she still had to find something for Casey. She still didn't know whether to get him a serious gift or a joke one. Then a thought struck her.

She wandered into the men's clothing section, thinking of how his socks all had holes in them. She grabbed two large packages of socks in his size, tossing them into the cart on top of everything else. She smiled, satisfied with her decision. A joke gift that was also useful. At least it was better than underwear. Just to be safe though, she threw in a CD that he would probably like.

That just left Klocke...

She frowned in thought. What could she possibly get for her partner? He was a simplistic guy, and not very materialistic. Though he did have a small streak of sentimentality. Why else would he have been so afraid to take care of his first partner's gun, if not because it reminded him of what he'd lost? Or why he always wore the same jacket, even in the summertime? Those were a couple things to keep in mind. Then again, he seemed to also like things that had a practical use.

A pen? But pens were hardly difficult to come by, and she wasn't going to spend some x-amount of money to custom order one. And it wouldn't get here in time for Christmas anyway, so that was out.

Then, right before the end of the men's section, she saw it.

It was perfect. Too perfect to just leave there on the rack. Suddenly grinning like a maniac, Haiden snatched the happy yellow item from where it hung and added it to her cart. It was the last one like it there, and not too expensive either.

The beauties of clearance sales.

She crossed the last name off her list, letting out a satisfied sigh. And -- her extremely last-minute christmas shopping complete -- she headed for the checkout.

{ { o } }

Klocke stared without any enthusiasm at the bleak interior of his closet. He wasn't one for dressing up usually, but he was supposed to have dinner with Ana later.

And he had no idea what to do.

He still didn't know where he was going to take her, he didn't know if she was expecting fancy or casual, and he didn't know what he was going to do if he guessed wrong. He was supposed to pick her up too.

So the question was:

What the hell did he do?

He was saved (likely only temporarily) from his desperate deliberations by a knock on his front door. He left his room, heading for the front of his house and unlocking the door before he froze. What if it was Ana? What if she had to cancel?

What if you're overthinking this? Just open the door.

So he did.

He was both relieved and confused to find his partner, Jennifer Haiden, standing on his doorstep. In her hands was a rectangular package of unimpressive size, wrapped in red and green metallic paper, with a bright silver bow on one side. There was a small red envelope on top of the festive package, and on it was only his last name in her simple, bubbly cursive.

Haiden held out the happy items, an even happier smile lighting up her face. "Merry Christmas!" She chirped.

"Eve," he corrected.

She shrugged. "Close enough. This is for you." And she thrust the package and envelope into his hands, then invited herself inside before he could protest. Klocke could only stand there, temporarily stunned. Haiden went almost directly to his kitchen, and started rummaging through his cupboards.

He wasn't sure what to make of it. He never would've pegged her as the sort who was comfortable simply waltzing into another person's home. And she hadn't even called ahead.

Sure, his cell phone was off since he didn't have to work today, but she could've easily looked up the number for his landline in the phone book.

Then again, why was he surprised? Haiden wasn't the sort of person you could pin down with merely the first impression, as her personality was becoming more and more complex to him as he got to know her.

Klocke blew out a sigh, finally closing his front door, and followed his partner to the kitchen. It was a little odd, seeing her without her gun. She was almost never without it these days.

She'd finally ceased looking through his cupboards, and was now leaning against the counter by the sink. She had an uncharacteristic frown on her face, and she reached into her pocket and pulled out that ever-present pack of gum. "You don't have any hot chocolate," she said, popping a piece of spearmint-flavored Extra into her mouth.

He quirked a brow at her. Are you serious? You shove a colorful package in my face, barge into my house, raid my kitchen, and you're sad because I don't have hot chocolate?

The frown didn't last long, and soon Haiden's typical 'nothing can ruin my day' smile was back. She plopped down in one of the chairs at his kitchen table. "So are you gonna open your present?"

A surprised huff escaped him, the closest thing to a laugh that you'd ever get out of him. He sat down across from her, and started with the box, pulling out his small pocket knife and using it to neatly slice open one end. He slid the box out of the paper with minimal difficulty, and flipped the top off with his thumb.

He wasn't quite sure what to make of the bright yellow item that sat in the box. He quirked a brow, lifting the fabric out of the box with only his forefinger. Then he saw the simple singular pattern on the fabric. His lips twitched involuntarily.

She'd given him a bright yellow tie with a smiley face on it.

Haiden grinned at him from where she sat, smacking her gum happily. "I knew you'd like it," she said, the faintest hint of satisfaction in her voice.

If he didn't know her better, he'd say she was feeling rather smug about it, but -- though he still didn't really know her that well -- he did know her well enough to know that smug wasn't part of her repertoire. He shook his head, the hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his lips, though beyond that his face remained blank. "Thanks," he said. He set the box and the tie down by the sleeve of wrapping paper and turned his attention to the red envelope.

Inside was a Christmas card, not that that surprised him. What did surprise him was the inside.

It was packed full to the brim with signatures and little greetings. He recognized every single name as someone he worked with at the station. He slowly flipped it over, and there were more signatures on the back. He read through all the names. Casey Saunders. Veronica Wilkinson. Jeremy Bridgewater. A. Tillmon. Mark Nolf. Elliot Copland. Rhonda Pabst. Michael Mercier. Jackson Powell. Anabell Newland. Charlie Laford. Jennifer Haiden.

The list went on and on and on.

Something in his chest hurt, and he felt the strangest urge to smile. So he did. Just a tiny smile, really. Most people wouldn't have noticed.

Haiden wasn't most people.

{ { o } }

She wasn't sure what she was seeing. Surely she was dreaming? Was that... a smile!? Was Klocke -- mister stoic emotionless robot -- actually smiling!? Sure, it was barely there at all, but this was Klocke. Klocke was practically a statue. That tiny smile might as well be his version of grinning ear to ear and dancing with joy.

Haiden suddenly wished she had a camera at that moment, because she was almost certain this would never, ever, happen again for as long as she lived. If I knew that giving him that card would get him to smile, she thought, I'd've definitely brought my camera. Hands down.

"Thank you," he said softly, though he didn't look up.

Haiden swallowed, but nodded. "Any time."