Archive of Our Own

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 22ND

Dan Fielding stared at the slowly dwindling pile of file folders on his desk. A quick glance at his wrist confirmed his estimate- there was only about half an hour left before court adjourned for the night. And once it adjourned, he would start his Christmas vacation- such as it could be called this year.

For once he didn’t have plans to exchange gifts with a beautiful blonde on the beaches of Barbados, or even a quick little sin-filled sabbatical in Atlantic City. For the first time since he’d left home for college, he’d been cajoled by his parents into coming home for a cajun Christmas. And he was dreading it.

“Your honor, any chance of a recess. Say, a week’s worth?”

Judge Young snickered. “Sorry, Dan, but I can’t help you. Besides, we all have plans for the holiday break.”

Christine frowned at him from her desk. “Dan, I can’t believe you’d even think about not going home to see your parents for Christmas.”

The mature prosecutor responded with his usual quick wit. “If you like them so much, why don’t you go visit them?”

Christine crossed her arms indignantly. “I would, but I have plans with my own father.”

“Good, we’ll switch! I’ll stay here and slum it with Jack, you go fly to Louisiana and enjoy chestnut stuffed gator.”

Billie banged the gavel before Christine could protest. “No last minute family swapping in my courtroom. Mac, call the next case before Dan gets any more sneaky ideas.”

“The people versus Harry Stone, your honor.” The clerk brought over the file, the bells on his overly festive sweater jingling with every step. “The charges are promoting gambling in the second degree.”

Dan and Christine both got up and stepped away from their respective desks as Bull led the defendant into the courtroom.

Harry Stone was tall, scrawny, and smiling, which most defendants didn’t do when being led into court at half past one in the morning. He wore an old fedora type hat, a suit and tie, and even though his hands were held together in front of him, Dan could swear he only saw the silvery glint of handcuffs around only one of his wrists.

Dan cleared his throat. “Your honor, Mr Stone here was caught running a three card monte game on Ninth Avenue. He only had $20 on him, so traditionally the state would be pursuing a second degree misdemeanor charge. However, the defendant has two priors for the same offense, from January and August of this year.” He leaned forward to place his findings on the judge’s bench.

Harry took off his hat. “And I stole and crashed a car when I was fifteen. Not sure if your capable DA here had access to my permanent record or not.”

Dan gave him a smile that was all teeth and no warmth. “I did.”

He noticed a spark of recognition behind Harry’s eyes. “Wait a minute, aren’t you the one who lost that city council election to a dead guy?”

“Your honor,” Christine interrupted smoothly before Dan could follow through with his backhanded slap gesture. “My client is a magician and street performer who hasn’t been able to find any legitimate work recently, and he only had one taker on his card game before the police shut him down. His recidivism is simply a case of being poor and hungry. And it’s Christmas, your honor.”

“The season is duly noted, counselor.” Billie turned back to Dan. “Repeat offender, Dan. I assume the people are pushing for jail time.”

“Yes, your honor, and we’re also requesting that he be held over for a jury.”

“Held over?”

“Yes, well, given that it’s Christmas, your honor,” he repeated in a mocking, high-pitched voice. “The people find that juries tend to lean towards acquittals at this time of year. But on January second, when people are less giving and more jaded and tired and hungover, well-”

“I understand.”

Dan beamed. “Thank you, your honor.”

“I object! Your honor, my client cannot sit in jail for two weeks simply because the grandstanding prosecutor is afraid of losing a case.”

Dan yelped. “I am not afraid!”

Billie and Christine exchanged a look. “Very well then, since the prosecutor is on record as being not afraid, and we cannot legally detain this nonviolent offender over the holidays, then I have no choice but to remand him into your custody.” While Dan yelped again, Billie turned her attention back to Harry. “Mr Stone, the court is trusting Dan to make sure you don’t skip bail. But I don’t need to remind you that the penalty will be much more severe for you if you do not return for your trial, to be held on Thursday, December 28th. Bull, please take the defendant back to Holding and prepare for his release.”

Bull guided him by the elbow. “Ooh, you’re gonna be spending Christmas with Dan! Let’s stop by Women’s Holding on the way down and get some tips from the hookers he spent last Christmas with.”

Dan yelped once more, the sound echoing around the nearly empty courtroom. The amused look on Harry’s face as he was led out of the courtroom was downright dangerous.

“Billie, come on! This is cruel and unusual sentencing!” He dropped to his knees in front of the bench. “Remember, I’m supposed to go home for Christmas. I can’t bring some big city con man back on down to the bayou.” His desperation was palpable, as his accent grew thicker with every word.

Billie frowned. “Dan, I’m sorry, but you’re not leaving me a lot of options here. The defendant has the right to a speedy trial. Either work out a plea deal and take the lesser charge, leave the trial for the replacement DA covering next week, or tell your Ma to set another place at the table and get ready to pass the stuffed gator.”

Dan scrunched his face in frustration. He so rarely saw jury trials, or sentencing above $50 and time served- Manhattan criminal court part two rarely saw the criminal masterminds of the city. And since they were going into an election year, a trial like this could really put him ahead with the tough on crime crowd. So a plea deal or replacement prosecutor would be out of the question.

And staying home with the sticky handed street performer wasn’t an option here. In Daddy Bob’s exact words, if Dan wasn’t at the table for supper on Christmas Eve, then half the population of Paris, Louisiana would fly up to New York City and barge in on him on Christmas Day. And that population count included the hogs.

He glowered. “I’ll take him with me. And maybe I’ll get lucky and the plane will crash,” he grumbled while Billie and Christine cheered.

___

In what felt like another Christmas miracle designed purely to spite him, the Louisiairna call center answered when he dialed at 2am on what was now early Saturday morning. Dan tended to think days began and ended when he woke up and fell asleep, regardless of when the clock ticked midnight. But apparently he wasn’t the only one stuck working the night shift, and he was easily able to procure a second seat on the 9am flight to New Orleans.

By the time he got off the phone, cleaned off his desk and picked up his coat, it was closer to 2:30. Bull and Harry were waiting for him down in holding, one floor down from his office.

“Here you are, Dan. You’re gonna have so much fun with Harry here. He knows card tricks!”

Dan scowled. “Does he know how to be quiet and keep his hands to himself?”

“That’s funny, I overheard one of the court stenographers ask the same thing about you,” Harry piped up, with a knowing smile.

Dan’s scowl deepened.

“Whoa Dan, don’t give yourself another ulcer. Come on, sign this, and I duly deputize you as an officer of the court for the next week.”

“I am an officer of the court.”

“Yeah, but now it means something more than a title and a way to pick up chicks. This is a responsibility,” Bull instructed solemnly.

Harry watched their exchange carefully. Dan could feel those sharp eyes on him. He tried to catalogue exactly what Bull had said about his character so far in front of Harry- womanizer, prone to ulcers, proud of his title as ADA.

Not that he cared too much about what this alleged street hustler thought of him. But a vote was a vote, and this guy wasn’t a felon (yet), and it behooved Dan to leave a good impression. If it all came down to one vote in November, he didn’t want to lose because of Harry.

He sighed and signed the forms. “Has he got all his stuff?”

“He has a name, and yes I do.” Harry patted his pockets. “Also got your watch,” he added, holding it out for Dan.

Dan stared dumbfounded at the gold band shining faintly under the dull fluorescents. He’d never even felt Harry’s hands on him, or realized he’d moved close enough into mugging range. “Give me that!”

“I told you he was good at tricks,” Bull said between big honking laughs.

“Another trick like that I’ll add felony larceny to your charges.”

Harry snorted. “No way that thing’s worth more than a thousand bucks.”

Dan refastened the watch around his wrist, wondering why this small-time crook happened to know the difference between petty and grand larceny charges, when his only priors were for gambling, grand theft auto, and one he didn’t find relevant to this case. “Listen here, Santa Klepto. Hands off the merchandise, or I will have you cuffed for the whole week. Got it?”

Harry shrugged. “Bull warned me you were kinky.”

Dan ground his teeth in anger while Bull wished them a very merry Christmas.

Harry beamed. “You too, Bull! I’ll be back in time to watch the Rose Bowl with you!”

___

Dan hadn’t had an elevator ride so silent since the last time his boss, Vincent Daniels, caught Dan talking to his niece.

The quiet didn’t affect Harry though, as he tapped his toes and hummed a song to himself the whole ride, all the way down to P3.

“Look, we better set some ground rules,” Dan started as they walked to his car, his voice echoing through the nearly empty parking garage. “Before one of us irritates the other into killing him.”

“Fine by me.” Harry held up his hands in a show of surrender. “What’s the plan for the week anyway? Bull made it sound like you’ve got some swinging bachelor’s paradise all lined up for the holidays.”

He frowned. “Bull needs to learn to keep his freakishly big mouth shut.” He shut the car door a little harder than necessary. In the hush of his ‘79 Plymouth, Billie’s plan sounded even more insane. “Actually, I have to go back to my parents’ home. In Paris. Paris, Louisiana.”

Next to him, he could see Harry’s mouth drop at the surprise, then quickly recompose himself into a not-quite-trustworthy smile. “That sounds lovely. I’ll be sure to hold down the fort for you here.”

“Nice try, stringbean. I already called the airline. You’re flying home with me for Christmas tomorrow morning.” He shifted into reverse, eager to get this night over with so he could get started on the nightmare that tomorrow would bring.

“You mean this morning,” Harry corrected, somehow only finding fault with Dan’s grasp on the day, and not the rest of their ridiculous idea. “Unless we’re leaving Sunday morning?”

Dan was too tired for this. “Saturday morning, 9am. So you better be a light sleeper.”

He kept his eyes on the road, grateful that he didn’t have to see Harry’s reaction. Dan hadn’t thought this far ahead. He only had one bedroom at his apartment, and he knew his parents’ house had nothing remotely fancy like a guest room. Hell, he would be lucky if they had running water again. And the closest thing Paris had to a hotel room was the hayloft in their neighbor’s hogsty.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry drumming his fingers on his leg, his leg still bouncing and tapping along to some silent song. A week sharing a bed with a fidgety con man, who could touch his wrist without Dan noticing. He swallowed as he ran a stop sign he didn’t even notice.

___

Dan’s apartment suited him. It wasn’t meant for anyone else, besides one (or two) nighttime visitors. Not Harry’s kind of nighttime visitor, rather one (or two) he sought out for himself, and not sentenced to him by the courts. It had been a while since he had a repeat guest as well. Dan was a classic love ‘em and leave ‘em type. He believed in leaving them wanting more, and that’s why he hadn’t had anything longer than a one night stand since Sheila left for California. That was over a year ago. He frowned at the thought of so much time passing.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Harry asked him, neatly hanging up his hat behind him on the hatstand. A few snowflakes still coated the brim. It wasn’t a hat designed for a New York winter- in fact, none of Harry’s clothes seemed weather appropriate, or decade appropriate, but it wasn’t Dan’s place to make sartorial judgements about defendants. Yet.

Dan noticed that Harry’s restlessness was calming down a bit, and realized he had misjudged Harry’s shivering as fidgetiness. Poor bastard probably was cold, and Dan’s broken Volaré heater definitely hadn’t helped.

He shed his own lush wool coat and hung it next to the sadsack hat. “Just trying to figure out how we're going to do this. The sleeping arrangements, I mean,” he added, at Harry’s raised eyebrow. “I don’t have a spare bedroom. I trust a night on the couch isn’t above your dignity.”

“Three hours ago I was in a cell watching two guys fight over a rat they used as a pillow. And the rat won.” He stepped into the living room and sat down on the couch, shifting to test its comfort. “I’d say this is a step up, as long as it doesn’t give me rabies.”

Dan sat down next to him. “This one won’t, but no promises about the sofa at my parents’ house.” He leaned back and sighed. “Is this even going to work? I can’t just take you across the country because my judge told me to. You’re a crook but you still have some rights.”

“Thanks, I think.” Harry loosened his tie, and shrugged off his threadbare blazer, folding it up into a makeshift pillow. “Look, I really don’t want your pity, but three squares and no snow under the roof is a lot better than what I had planned for Christmas. As long as we can stop by my place tomorrow morning so I can get a change of clothes, I’m up for whatever down-home, Deliverance family holiday you’ve got planned.”

Dan gawked at him. “You really mean that, don’t you?” Goddammit. Dan hated this time of year for a reason. Fifty weeks out of the year he could be a miserable, self-serving bastard and no one would bat an eye. Well, Mac would have some choice words for him, and Christine would probably wail ”Oh, Dan!”, but the eyes would remain unbatted.

But for some reason, Dan had to go out of his way and pretend he wasn’t a jerk for the twelve days of Christmas. And it’s not like he wasn’t going to do half of this kindness stuff anyway. He liked Phil and tried to help him out when he could, but because the calendar read December, he had to make a big production of giving him a pair of old socks and a bottle of Muscatel.

It was easier for a DA to not have a heart. And in Dan’s case, his own was removed long before he ever stepped foot in Manhattan’s criminal court. But now, sitting next to one of the most pathetic criminals he’d ever seen in his life, he found it hard to pretend he didn’t feel bad for the poor sucker.

“I’ll uh, go get you some blankets. Bathroom is that door right over there. There should be a spare toothbrush or something in the medicine cabinet. One of those cheap freebies from the dentist.”

Harry smiled. It didn’t have the con man grease like the one in holding, or the bite to it like the one where Bull got a few shots at his expense. It was warm, and genuine, and it reminded Dan of Billie’s, when she was having a particularly good night behind the bench.

It also made Harry look much younger than he had all night. Dan blinked, trying to remember his age from the file. He figured Harry had to be a few years older than him just from how sad and pathetic he seemed, which would place him mid 40’s. But here he scarcely looked 35. Dan felt another pang in his temporarily unfrozen heart.

“What, are your fingers faster than your feet?” he grumbled, snapping his fingers in a fit of urgency. “Get moving, we have to wake up in four hours.”

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 23RD

Dan couldn’t remember the last time he woke up this early, or the last time he wanted to smash his alarm clock more. He was a heavy sleeper on a good day, but on half his usual amount of sleep, he felt downright miserable.

He had a moment of absolute terror hearing a noise coming from the living room, before the events of the previous night came flooding back to him. Oh right, he remembered. Nothing to worry about. It’s only the pathetic lunatic crashing on my couch right now.

He fought off a series of yawns as he got up and haphazardly tied one of his silk robes around him. The noises from the other side of the door increased, and his sense of dread matched it as he reached the other side of his room.

“Mornin’!’ Harry called from the kitchen, balancing two coffee mugs in his right hand while he poured hot water from the kettle with his left. “Thought a little coffee might be in order for the long day ahead.”

Dan nodded, glancing around the room quickly. Nothing seemed to be missing or out of place. Not that he didn’t trust Harry exactly, but when a guy swipes your watch in your second conversation together, well Dan wasn’t that dumb not to be a little worried about his personal effects.

He joined Harry at his small table, wiping the dust from the second, rarely-used seat. Harry noticed but didn’t comment.

Harry was in shirtsleeves and his pants, with his suspender loops hanging down around his knees. His hair was messy, and it gave him a boyish, charming touch. Dan could see how anybody could be tricked into trusting him.

He sipped his coffee to avoid having to say anything else. Years of working at night had eroded the last few crumbs of patience Dan reserved for mornings. He was generally an unpleasant sight before 10am most days. Meanwhile, next to him, sitting so close their knees bumped under the table, Harry looked no worse for wear after being shorted a few REM cycles himself. If anything, he looked better now than he had in the middle of the night.

“Flight’s at 9am, right?” Harry asked, breaking the icy silence that Dan had been enjoying.

“Yeah. Where’s your apartment?”

“Lower East Side,” he answered, giving the address while Dan tried to map it out in his head. It did not have a reputation as a good neighborhood.

“We’ll leave in ten minutes then? Swing by your hovel before racing over to LaGuardia.”

Harry nodded over the rim of his mug. “I’ll be quick. I don’t have much to pack up anyway.”

Dan nodded back, unsure of how to respond to that. He didn’t doubt that Harry had it rough now, but a trip to his parents’ dirt farm was sure to be informative. The lesson clearly being that poor in the city would always be preferable to poor in the sticks.

He drained his mug. It was bad instant coffee because that was all he kept in his house- he wasn’t the kind of person who enjoyed long leisurely breakfasts, especially with his overnight guests. “I’ll go get dressed and grab my suitcase. Be ready to leave in five minutes.”

Harry mocked saluted. “Yes, sir, officer of the court, sir.”

___

He parked his car on the street in front of Harry’s building.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Oh no, you won’t,” he said, turning off the ignition. “How dumb do you take me for? I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Harry shrugged. “Fine by me.”

He took the stairs two at a time, but Dan could easily match his stride. Dan had noticed they were basically the same height, but Harry was so scrawny that Dan probably had 40 pounds on him. He shook his head, realization setting in that he’d be stuck footing the bill for all their meals.

They stopped in front of a shabby looking door on the third floor. Harry had unlocked it before Dan could even notice where he’d procured the key from.

“Home, sweet home,” Harry proclaimed sardonically.

Dan hovered at the door. There was nowhere else to go. Calling it a one-room apartment would be an insult to rooms. The wallpaper was peeling, the bedframe was broken, and there were mouse traps liberally scattered about the floor. Harry’s few personal items stood out- a beat-up old record player and milk crate full of albums, a stack of books on magic and escapism- and only made the room sadder.

It would be kinder to think that nobody lived here, let alone someone with dreams and hobbies.

In a flash, Harry had pulled an old, worn leather suitcase from under his bed, and started moving piles of clothes from the floor to his suitcase. He didn’t have much so it didn’t take long.

“Got everything?”

Harry gave him a level stare.

“Right. Well, let’s go then.”

___

In surely another Christmas miracle, traffic was light on FDR Drive, and they made it to LaGuardia in record time. He got both of their tickets at the gate, dropped off their suitcases, and they slumped into chairs at the food court, sitting around more bad coffee with over half an hour to kill. He did spring for a bagel for Harry.

“Hope you’re ok with non-smoking,” Dan said, handing over Harry’s ticket while Harry ate. A small voice at the back of his head said he should probably hold on to both tickets, lest Harry take off in a mad dash and cash his in for food money. But he was too tired to care at this point, and it felt like the right thing to do. And at least it gave them something to talk about for five minutes. Harry mentioned quitting smoking a few years back, and that let Dan talk about his old beloved pipe, which he gave up around the time of Selma’s funeral.

Harry chuckled. “Sorry, I’m trying to picture someone that short standing next to a guy like Bull.”

“They made quite the pair,” Dan agreed. “We all miss her.”

“You're close, then? With all your coworkers?”

“Oh yeah, one big happy family,” he snapped. Harry visibly deflated a bit, and Dan felt like a jerk. It wasn’t Harry’s fault that Dan was tired and irritable this morning, and if he was miserable now, it was only going to get worse once he actually got home. He shifted his weight in the uncomfortable plastic seat, leaning forward, trying to come off as a little more companionable. “Look, I’m not really into the whole family scene. I like my coworkers, but I prefer to keep my distance. And when you meet my real family, you’ll understand why.”

Before Harry could answer, their flight was called for boarding. They both finished their drinks, and headed towards the gate.

“Last chance to back out,” Dan mumbled when they were in line to board.

Harry nudged him with a pointed elbow. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

For a brief moment Dan considered it. Call his folks now and explain about the Harry situation- and he wouldn’t even be lying for once when he spoke about a work emergency. He could cash in the plane tickets, use the money to get a hotel room, live it up for a few days, and then bring Harry back to court on Thursday like nothing had happened. He could even handcuff Harry to the radiator if he had to.

He sighed. Christine would kill him if she found out he skipped out on his family.

“Don’t tempt me.”

___

Considering he was a last minute addition, Harry had been assigned a seat across the aisle from Dan. The older couple next to him had already fallen asleep, and to Harry’s left, it looked like a single mother and a small child. Dan counted his blessings he got Mr and Mrs Van Winkle, and settled in for the long haul.

It was a three hour flight to New Orleans, then another two hour drive waiting for them after that. Baton Rouge might’ve been closer to fly into, but there were fewer flights, and more importantly, none as cheap. And a two hour drive was nothing when he planned to be alone. If anything, a few extra hours to mentally compose himself before five days with his family was exactly what he needed.

But now he had Harry in tow. Harry, who was already talking with the single mom and showing the kid a card trick. Well, he seemed to make friends wherever he went. Maybe he could just sic Harry on Mama and Daddy Bob and have his two problems cancel each other out.

He unfolded his newspaper and tried to relax.

___

Sleep took him by surprise, and they were already making their descent when he woke up.

“You missed the whole flight,” Harry confirmed, snacking on some peanuts. “Pretty uneventful. Not even any turbulence to liven it up.”

“Aren’t you tired?” Dan grumbled, annoyed at being caught napping on the job. Not that Harry could’ve escaped on him mid-flight, but it was still embarrassing to find the man he was supposed to be watching instead watching him while he slept.

“After two cups of coffee and some in-flight soda? No chance. I’m afraid I’m gonna be talking your ear off till we get to Madrid.”

“Paris,” Dan immediately corrected.

“Same difference,” he said, tossing up a peanut and catching it in his mouth. The kid next to him clapped.

Dan groaned. “Just what you need. An audience.”

“Some people show appreciation for skill, instead of locking us up.”

Oh, how Dan really wished he hadn’t missed the drink service. “Skill is one thing. Defrauding tourists outside of Lincoln Center is another.”

“You watch this and tell me the Mexican Turnover isn’t a skill,” Harry argued, spreading out three cards in front of him, and expertly swapping out one. Dan had no idea when or how he palmed the queen of hearts, and could only stare at the nine of clubs in its place.

The kid clapped again and Harry mimed taking a bow. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all flight. Try the peanuts.” He offered one to the kid, whose mother appeared to be napping and who apparently had never taught her child about stranger danger.

And there was no man stranger than Harry Stone. He had quickly changed clothes at his apartment that morning, while Dan had stepped into the shabby hallway to give him a modicum of privacy, but he was still dressed like he walked out of a 40s gangster movie. But his kind eyes and impish smile open to children and animals alike was carefully put in place to hide the fact that his hands weren’t afraid to cheat you.

Something confirmed when he pulled out a second bag of peanuts from his jacket pocket and handed it to the kid.

“Sleight of hand,” he explained to Dan. “You didn’t see anything.”

“Federal airspace is out of my jurisdiction,” Dan said pointedly. “But try not to rip off anyone else until we’re back in New York. I don’t want to lose you to extradition charges.”

Harry nodded solemnly and raised his right hand as if taking an oath. “I won’t commit any crimes unless you can personally profit from them.”

Dan gave him an oily smile. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

___

Considering it was only two days until Christmas, the airport wasn’t as hectic as Dan had feared. The line up at The Big Easy All Wheel Drive rental counter was only a few people long, and in what was turning out to somehow be his lucky day, they had remembered his reservation.

“Alright, Mr Fielding. Here are the keys. Just sign the rental agreement and insurance form here.” The clerk looked over his shoulder, to Harry juggling several bags of peanuts with a manic grin on his face. “Will your guest also be driving the vehicle?”

“No. Absolutely not. I’ll handcuff him if it comes to that.”

The clerk’s face reddened. “That won’t be necessary, Mr Fielding. It’s only a small extra insurance fee for multiple drivers. You don’t need to take any drastic measures to save ten dollars.”

“Oh, he’s always been a skinflint,” Harry confided, leaning on the counter with his right arm and catching all the bags with his left hand. “You know, one year, he tried to have us couriered back home instead of paying for the plane tickets.”

The clerk clucked her tongue sympathetically. Dan tightened his grip on the pen so hard that he was surprised it didn’t snap in half. “Are we good to go?”

“That’s not even the half of it,” Harry said, as Dan dragged him away from the counter.

“Keep talking and you’ll be riding in the trunk,” he warned.

“I’m surprised that wasn’t your first plan.”

Dammit. Too late now.

“It’s Christmas,” he eventually landed on. “I’ll save the trunk for the drive back.”

___

As soon as they were in the car, Harry reached for the radio knobs.

“Just don’t pick anything weird,” was all Dan had said.

“What constitutes weird for you?” Harry’s tongue poked out of the side of his mouth as he concentrated on listening to the song, before shaking his head and adjusting the tuner to the next station. “Yesterday, you wanted to throw me in jail. Today, you flew me 1,300 miles and now we’re going to meet your folks. Weird doesn’t narrow it down.”

Dan tightened his grip on the wheel, focusing on the passing marshlands. “Just don’t pick anything that’ll make me stop and throw you to the gators.”

“That narrows it down.” He fiddled the tuner again, until some gentle big band music wafted from the rear speakers. “Ah yeah, that’ll do.”

Dan snorted. “Really?”

Harry leveled him with a look that Dan barely saw from the corner of his eye. “Do you have a problem with Artie Shaw?”

“Well, he’s no Glenn Miller.”

“You know swing music?”

Dan shrugged. “I know enough about playing something to set the mood.”

Harry laughed. “Remind me to light some candles if Moonlight Serenade comes on.” He tapped along to the song, drumming his hands against his bony knees. “Alright now, tell me what we’re walking into. Tell me what a Fielding family Christmas is like.”

“Elmore,” Dan corrected.

“What?”

“It’s an Elmore family Christmas. My family is named Elmore. I renamed myself years ago.”

“So you’re really Dan Elmore?”

Dan winced. “Reinhold Elmore.”

“Good God! And to think I complained about being a six year old named Harold.” Harry shuddered at the thought. “Ok, so tell me about the Elmores then. What are they like?”

“They’re dirt poor. And I mean that literally- Daddy Bob farms dirt, and the occasional rock. I was sixteen before I owned any clothes that didn’t have dirt and dust caked on them.”

“Daddy Bob?” He heard Harry’s barely suppressed laughter.

“Oh yeah, he’ll insist you call him that.” Dan smirked. “Having second thoughts?”

Harry laughed out loud now, a warm, cheery sound that had Dan smiling despite himself. “We’re too far into this now to send me back to Manhattan.” He looked out the window appreciatively. “I’ve never spent a winter outside of the city. I’ve never not had snow at Christmas.”

“It’s only 45 degrees,” Dan pointed out. “It’s not like it’s Miami. Or Tahiti.”

“That’s still twenty five degrees warmer than the Bowery was this morning.”

Dan focused on the road and tried not to think of how much Harry had been shivering the previous night. “So, what do you think of Louisiana so far?”

“It’s so green,” Harry marveled, rolling up his sleeves. He’d ditched his jacket before they had even left the parking lot. “And humid. I’m gonna need a shower just to reabsorb the lost sweat.”

“They only have a tub. And it’s fifty/fifty odds whether the water’s running this week or not.”

Harry shrugged. “Sounds like my last apartment.”

“So what’s your story then? You’re clearly talented. Not sure if they’re employable talents, but dexterity has to come in handy somewhere.” Dan smiled at his own pun.

Harry did too. “I wanted to be a magician.”

Dan nodded sagely. “The Houdini-to-house-burglar pipeline. Seen it a hundred times before.”

Harry laughed again. Dan wanted to keep him laughing the whole drive home. “I’m not up to burgling just yet. Right now, my bread and butter is kid’s birthday parties. But the backyard birthday party season tends to dry up this time of year.”

“Kids parties?” he repeated, tugging on his ear as if he’d misheard.

“Yeah, well, they’re a good audience. I’ve played nightclubs before, but adults are too jaded for magic. Besides, I love kids.”

“Do you have any of your own?” Dan didn’t know why he asked. He’d read Harry’s file. Not to mention the sight of Harry’s apartment this morning, or the fact Harry was being dragged away from home lest he spent Christmas in jail, there wasn’t really an answer he could give that wouldn’t be tragic.

“Not yet. I’d like to, though. Always wanted some kind of family.” He glanced at Dan hesitantly. “What about you?”

“Not to my knowledge. I’ve been careful, coming from some kind of family myself.”

“Careful?”

‘Well, I’m not a monk.”

Harry wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Ah. Yeah, I kind of gathered from your reputation back at the courthouse.”

“Too hot? The temperature, I mean. You can unroll a window if you want.”

“I’ll live.”

“You’d better. I gotta deliver your skinny ass back to Bull on Thursday.” Dan frowned as soon as the words left his mouth. He’d thought about it, and was sure they’d both joked about it already today. But now it felt weird to mention. The elephant in the rental car. Harry was his brother-in-arms here, on his pilgrimage back to visit his insane parents. Being reminded that their journey would end with Harry back behind bars, presumably long term, if Dan had his way, was almost as unsettling to him as it was to Harry.

To his surprise, Harry laughed next to him. “Looking forward to it. I think I can talk Bull into placing a small wager on some college bowl games.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Thanks.” He waited a beat. “I can cut you in, if you want.”

“How much?”

“How much do you need?”

He sighed wistfully. “I always wanted a Mercedes.”

Harry laughed. “You’re on. Bull showed me his bankroll. Took a lot of willpower not to break out the cards while we were waiting for you to come back last night.”

Dan found his conscience as he merged onto Route 61. “No, I couldn’t steal from Bull. As much as I’d like to.”

Harry nodded. “He’d bend you into a pretzel if he found out it was you.”

“Alright, smart guy. How do you con people without getting pretzeled?”

“I’m too fast to get caught,” he said, flashing something in his hands again.

Dan let go of the steering wheel long enough to confirm his watch was gone again. He didn’t need to, it was more for Harry’s benefit. This time he could swear he felt the ghost of a touch against his skin, deft fingers slipping under the golden latch just so.

“Please don't rob my parents,” he squeaked.

“I wouldn’t dare. Robbing a DA’s parents at Christmas sounds like something they’d give me the chair for.”

Dan chuckled. “That reminds me, keep your fast hands off my sister too.”

He’d gotten a call from his parents about a week ago that Donna was also coming home for Christmas this year. He hadn’t seen her in years, and in his haste to get everything sorted out with Harry in tow, he now realized he had to worry about the charming con man seducing his baby sister like something out of a particularly twisted Christmas movie. He frowned. Maybe he could sell the idea to Cinemax.

“This sister of yours,” Harry started slowly, breaking into his softcore scheme. “She wouldn’t happen to look exactly like you in a dress and heels?”

“Please!” Dan exclaimed, shooting Harry a quick stern glare. “As if I needed heels to make my legs look better.”

He smiled at the passing road sign, knowing the sound of Harry’s laughter would carry him the remaining eighty miles.

___

Despite the long journey, the no sleep and empty stomach, and the fact he really wanted to turn around and leave, Dan felt pretty good when he pulled up in front of his parents’ old house.

He blamed Harry, who also seemed to be in good spirits.

“Whoo-ee,” he whistled. “This is one hell of a house.”

“A hell house is the way to describe it.”

The porch slumped the left, and it looked like one strong breeze would take the whole damn thing away. The miniscule second storey teetered precariously on top of the ramshackle main floor. The front door leaned slightly to the right, and all of the windows looked clean but crooked. There were differently colored patches on the roof, clearly from years of spot repairing slow leaks.

‘It has a certain rustic charm,” Harry said graciously.

Dan laughed, the derision dripping with each ha. “And you call yourself a con man. Even my folks wouldn’t believe that.”

“Got it. I’ll be sincere.” He straightened his tie. “Ready?”

“No. Let’s get this over with.” They got out of the car and stretched out their stiff arms and legs.

“It won’t be that bad,” Harry said, trying one last time to get Dan to be reasonable.

“Spoken like someone who’s never met them,” he grumbled, as he hauled their suitcases out the trunk. “Come on, laissez les bons temps rouler!”

He walked right in, knowing damn well that the door wasn’t locked.

“Mama, Daddy Bob, I’m home!”

“Danny boy!”

He was engulfed on both sides by his parents, wrapped in a double embrace so tight that he dropped both suitcases on his feet.

He grunted in pain while his mother rubbed his back, mistaking his anguish for emotion at the moment. “Aw Danny, it’s so good to see you.”

He wriggled his way free. Harry was watching him, a smile on his face. He seemed to be enjoying this moment of family bliss, and Dan couldn’t fathom why.

“I, uh, brought someone home with me.”

Musette brightened. “Is it that nice girl you were going with? Liz?”

Oh, god. “No, I told you about that. Liz and I broke up when she got transferred to the federal court circuit.” Five years ago, he mentally added. The breakup had been amicable enough. He’d missed her more than he ever let on, and she’d sent him a Christmas card a few weeks ago. It was on his mantle, the only card he received this year.

Dan cleared his throat, eager to redirect the conversation. “This is Harry Stone. He’s uh, a new guy down at the courthouse, and when he didn’t have anyone to spend the holidays with, I thought I’d bring him home with me to share all the joy and wonders of an Elmore family Christmas.”

Harry waved from the doorway. “Hiya! I’m Harry!” Even though it had only been less than a day, Dan was certain Harry’s smile was a little dimmer, a shade more shy than his usual one. He felt a stab of guilt at dragging the poor bastard into this.

Daddy Bob straightened his jacket, trying to look more presentable for his surprise guest. “The more the merrier, ‘specially this time of year. Glad to meetcha Harry.”

They shook hands, Harry’s arm shaking with the strength of Daddy Bob’s grip. “Thanks for welcoming me into your home.”

“Ain’t nothing. Now come on into the kitchen, you boys must be starving.” Musette put a hand on each of their backs and guided them towards the kitchen, as if Dan didn’t remember his way around the house he was raised in.

“Mama, I can manage.”

“Of course you can, dear.”

___

Harry slipped him back his watch, and Dan automatically went to correct the time. Gaining an extra hour was another reason why he hated coming home. Who on Earth would want to spend more time with Ma and Pa Kettle?

Besides Harry, apparently, who sat eagerly next to him at the worn kitchen table, eyes alight as he followed Musette’s path from icebox to table to counter to table and back again.

“We’re saving the big feast for tomorrow, of course,” she explained, placing a big plate of chicken down in between them. “But this should tide you boys over ‘til suppertime.”

“Looks great, Mrs Elmore.”

“Oh please, call me Musette. If you’re spending Christmas with us, you’re one of the family.”

Harry swallowed. “I appreciate that.”

Dan rolled his eyes at how choked up it sounded. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he whispered, when Musette went back to fetch something from the pantry. “So spare me the phony family loving routine.”

Harry gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry. Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve seen family at Christmas. I uh, I know I’m just renting yours for the week.”

Dan felt the urge to jam his foot in his mouth. “Forget I said anything. Enjoy being an honorary Elmore. Just watch out for ringworm. It usually comes with the territory.”

Harry flashed a bright smile over a bit of chicken. “Don’t worry. They deloused me at the courthouse yesterday. Twice. Because I said I was going home with you,” he explained unnecessarily.

Dan hid his smile while he wiped his fork with his napkin. “Yeah, you’ll fit in fine here.”

___

Daddy Bob joined them all at the table a few minutes later, when they were nearly finished. “Dropped both your bags off up in your room, Danny Boy.”

Dan and Harry both protested.

“You really didn’t need to do that, Mr Elmore.”

“Daddy Bob, are you trying to throw your back out again?”

“Weren’t nothing,” he said, turning towards Harry. “And you better call me Daddy Bob. Everyone else sure does.”

“Will do, sir,” Harry saluted with his fork.

“Did’ja give presents to all your work friends?” Musette asked.

“Of course I did,” Dan retorted, surprising himself by how much he needed to convey to his mother that he did have friends in the big bad city. “You remember my judge, Billie, when you came up to visit a few years ago? We had a little party at her apartment last weekend, since everyone knew I was busy this weekend.”

Harry dropped his chin in his palm, watching Dan with fascination. But Dan was focused on telling his story, and convincing his parents that he did have a real social life, and didn’t notice.

“Bull brought this godawful fish casserole he used to make with his mother. Christmas is the only day a year he gets to see his mom, and it makes him act like a bigger kid than usual. Christine brought her new boyfriend. Some insurance geek or something. It won’t last, but at least they can be boring and chaste together. Mac brought his wife Quon Le- they’re expecting their first baby soon, and somehow everyone drew Mac’s name for Secret Santa.” Dan would go to his grave before telling anyone that he rigged it.

“Did you get any presents?” Daddy Bob asked.

“Roz got me a nice bottle of scotch. You missed Roz at the courthouse last night,” Dan explained to Harry, who pulled himself together before Dan could catch him staring. “Her aunt’s visiting, so she started her holiday break early.”

Musette cooed. “Aw, isn’t that sweet? At least some people invite their family to visit them at Christmas.”

“She wasn’t invited, she just dropped in,” Dan countered, jaw tight with anger. As soon as she leaves town, Roz would find a gift certificate for a joint mud spa/mud wrestling facility- again, something Dan would deny all knowledge of.

“Still, the thought of opening your home to friends and family-”

“He opened his home to me,” Harry piped up. “He even let me stay over last night, because he couldn’t bear the thought of me being alone for even a minute this week.”

The Elmores looked briefly impressed. “Our Danny boy really took good care of you?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Dan pouted.

___

After half an hour of sitting around with his parents, Dan was reaching his limits. “Well, this has been fun and all, but I think Harry and I need a little rest.”

“Oh, of course you both do. Let me show you to your-”

“Mama, I know how to find my old bedroom.”

Harry smiled knowingly. “I can back him up, in case he gets lost.”

Dan left the kitchen, ignoring the stabs of annoyance at the sound of his parents laughing at Harry’s joke. He knew he didn’t have any claim on Harry, aside from legally being responsible for him until Thursday. But he couldn’t shake the weird possessive feeling he had, as if he wanted all of Harry’s charm and humor focused on him.

He shook his head, trying to shake off the thought as he made his way up the creaky staircase, and automatically turned left, walking into an unrecognizable pink nightmare.

“Jesus, Joseph, and Mary Kay?”

He froze, hand on the doorknob, and was almost knocked over by Harry coming up behind him. “Wow, didn’t take you for a Barbie girl growing up, Dan.”

Daddy Bob’s voice floated up the stairs. “Donna got the big room after you moved out, son. We put your belongings in the small room, in case you were ever fixin’ to move back.”

Dan rolled his eyes skyward. Behind him, Harry shuffled back into the hallway. “What’s the small room?”

“It’s a closet,” Dan growled. “They turned a closet into a nursery after Donna was born.”

The door opposite his room- his old room- was Donna’s nursery, which now contained his old bed, and the few items he left behind when he moved out for college.

Harry lingered at the door while Dan walked into the meagre room, in a reversal from their earlier positions back at Harry’s apartment, which now felt like weeks ago.

“It’s nice.”

Dan gave him a dull look. “It’s a rat hole. You were better off staying in the city.”

Harry sat down on the edge of Dan’s bed. “Too late. Besides, this is nicer than the rat holes I’m used to.” His eyes fell on both their suitcases leaning against the wall. “I take it we’re both bunking in here?”

“I could take the couch, I suppose.” Dan really, really didn’t want to sleep on his parents’ old couch. He saw it when they first walked in, and he was sure it was still the same old one they had bought in the early ‘50s. If there was any stuffing or cushioning to it, it was flattened out sometime during the Vietnam war. If he spent one night on that thing, he would end up putting his chiropractor’s kids through college.

“Don’t be silly. I’m not going to take your bed in your house.”

“This stopped being my house almost 30 years ago.” He looked out the window. Yellow-brown fields stretched out for miles. It hadn’t changed at all and yet it didn’t feel familiar in the slightest. “I can share if you can.”

Harry stretched out on the bed. “Works for me. I’m getting tired though.” He stifled a yawn behind his long fingers. For a moment, Dan expected to see it come out of his ears.

“I can let you rest. Sorry about my parents. I know they’re a lot.” He sighed. “I forgot what they were like at this time of year. Or any time of year.”

“Mm, they’re nice.” He folded his arms behind his head. The jet lag and long day seemed to be creeping up on both of them. Dan stared at Harry for a moment, unsure just how he should approach joining him.

Dan finally settled on kicking off his shoes and sitting at the foot of the bed. It felt like a reasonable start. “You don’t have to be polite with me. You can tell me they’re insane.”

Harry nudged Dan’s hip with his foot. The touch barrier had been officially crossed. “I think they’re pretty charming. Lots of folks would kill to have folks like them.”

Dan shrugged, gracefully turning it into a stretch. He draped himself down along the edge of the bed, back up against the wall. “Kill me and take them for yourself. Trust me, I won’t mind.”

Next to him, Harry yawned again. “Don’t wanna add murder to my charges.”

___

Dan woke up for the third time that day in a groggy stupor. It was dark in the small makeshift bedroom, and he had no idea how long he had been asleep. The bare, curtainless window only showed a dark night sky blanketed with clouds and shadows. All he knew was that Harry had been there earlier, and now he was gone.

The sound of voices downstairs gave him little relief. He wasn’t sure if he should be more worried about what Harry told his parents, or what his parents were telling Harry.

He flicked on the light, listening to the dull hum charge through the entire house before the single bulb above him flickered to life.

“Eureka, we’ve finally caught up to the 1890s.”

He pulled out his suitcase from where it was stacked neatly under Harry’s, and started pulling out his clothes and stacking them neatly in the wooden crates that passed for his old dresser.

His body already longed for his beloved suits. He’d dressed casually enough for today, in a jacket and shirt with no tie, because he’d never be caught dead looking slovenly in front of a stewardess. But the rest of his wardrobe for the week, aside from one modest suit for Christmas Mass, would be a huge step down from his usual style. He’d packed mostly ratty old shirts for helping around the house, because he knew Daddy Bob would have him out there feeding the hogs sooner or later.

Come to think of it, he should probably warn Harry about the indentured servitude around here.

He listened for a moment, to the warm laughter coming from downstairs. Harry can fend for himself, he thought, throwing a pair of socks around with more force than necessary.

He wasn’t happy with himself. There was a reason he never came back home, or spoke to parents more often than a quick phone call on their birthdays. He didn’t like this place, and he didn’t like the person he was when he was here. It had taken him nearly three decades to carve Dan Fielding out of clay, and he wasn’t eager to have someone chip him back down in Reinhold Elmore again.

Christine’s voice chided him in his head. She had replaced his conscience, like a version of Jiminy Cricket that he sometimes wanted to see topless.

Of course he knew he was being ridiculous. Five days around his family wasn’t going to kill him. But he knew he’d be happier if he had someone like Mac or Roz or Billie here with him. Someone who really knew him, and could reassure him that he did make it out of the bayou to become the lecherous jerk he’d always dreamed of.

Harry didn’t know him at all. He was practically a stranger sharing his home and his bed. Dan smirked to himself at the irony of it. Usually he was begging to have a doe-eyed stranger in his bed and now-

He yelped as he pinched himself. He could not even begin to pretend to consider even contemplating entertaining that notion. Harry was a criminal, he was awaiting trial in Dan’s own courtroom, and they still had four more days to spend metaphorically shackled together.

Oh, really shouldn’t have thought about shackles just now.

“Danny boy, you alright up there?” his father’s voice called, as he pinched himself again.

“Fine, Daddy Bob,” he called back. “Just got caught on something.”

___

A few minutes later, and finally recomposed after more pinches and a few face slaps, Dan joined his parents and Harry downstairs in the kitchen.

“Saved you some chicken,” Musette offered, handing him a plate.

“I’m not hungry.” He sat down next to Harry, the only available seat left at the small four-person table. “When does Donna get in? Is there going to be enough room for her and her fella?”

“She’ll be flying in from Atlanta tomorrow. Want to come down to Baton Rouge and pick her up with us?”

Dan closed his eyes, willing the patience to come. “Hold it. I’ll drive down and pick her up for you.” He turned to Harry. “Their relic predates the internal combustion engine. It makes a Studebaker look like a Porsche. You gotta power it with your feet like in The Flintstones.”

“We could all drive down,” Musette suggested.

Dan rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “Not unless we want to tie Donna and her date down to the roof to bring them back. Harry and I will go pick them up.”

Harry leaned over and picked a cold chicken leg from his plate. “Do I get any say in this?”

“No!”

“Ok,” Harry replied cheerfully. “Just making sure.”

Dan glared back at him, his frown increasing as Harry’s smile brightened. It wasn’t that he really thought Harry would take off on him, but if he came back from Baton Rouge to find Harry had fled into the bayou, he would have no choice but to lie down and let the gators take him. Going back to New York empty handed simply wasn’t an option.

“What time’s her flight? Harry and I will go pick them up, and grab any last minute things we might need. Like razor blades, or a merry bottle of cyanide.”

Musette laughed. “We should have everything we need already, dear. Daddy Bob took an extra trip down to the feed store just last week.”

“Oh goody. I forgot how good the salt lick casserole was this time of year.”

“What’s Paris like?” Harry asked, his curiosity almost passing for genuine as far as Dan could tell. “What else does the town have besides the feed store?”

“Not too much left, I reckon,” Daddy Bob said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “It’s been pretty dreary since the gas station blew.”

“Of course, things have been brighter lately,” Musette countered. “The town got wired for electricity last summer.”

Daddy Bob nodded. “People came from miles around to look at that streetlight. ‘Course most of them got stuck here for a bit, on account of no gas station to fill up their tanks for the drive back.”

Dan groaned. “I’m going back to bed.”

___

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 24TH

Dan woke early. The rooster crowing loudly had something to do with it.

He tried to roll over and ignore it, but froze when he felt the warmth of another body right next to him.

Oh, right.

Harry had still been downstairs when Dan stormed off to bed the previous night, leaving Harry with the awkward predicament of navigating his way into bed with Dan already asleep like a log.

Don’t think about logs.

He watched the steady rise and fall of Harry's breath, the way even sleep couldn’t hide the mischievous tilt of his mouth. He stared at that mouth longer than he needed to.

Harry was a puzzle that Dan wasn’t too invested in solving. The bleeding hearts like Christine or Billie could waste their time trying to figure out what made a guy like Harry Stone act the way he did. And when they failed, there was probably a psychiatrist waiting at Rikers’ Island to pick up where they left off.

He frowned at the thought. Even though this weird week would inevitably end with Dan arguing for Harry to be jailed, it was hard to think of that right now.

The law was the law, floated through his head. He had to enforce it, especially now that Bull had specifically deputized him- although Dan suspected there was more authority in his old Hopalong Cassidy outfit, presumably still tucked away somewhere under the bed. His parents were too sentimental and solicitous for their own good at times.

The word solicitous floated around in his head too. He remembered Harry’s other prior charge. Solicitation, May 1984. Dan had recognized the address. Clearly a police raid on a gay bar. Dan hadn’t been involved in the case- Harry had probably been held overnight and processed during the day. But Dan took a little comfort in seeing the usual $50 fine and time served printed on his file. Some judges tended to punish men harder than women when it came to these kinds of cases.

Dan was by no means a bleeding heart liberal. But he wasn’t so tough nosed that he didn’t recognize that the law was imperfect. He looked down at Harry, and tried not to think of him shivering the other night, or that he allegedly only had $20 on him.

He could hear the Christine in his head yelling at him again- Cut the poor guy some slack. He’s not too different from you, you know. For god’s sake Dan, it’s Christmas.

He wished he could roll over and maybe beat some sense into the pillow, but he didn’t want to dislodge Harry.

Harry knew he knew about the solicitation charge. He had asked about Dan knowing his priors. But it hadn’t come up in any of their conversations yet. It was another jagged piece of the Harry Stone puzzle, lying off to the side until Dan could figure out where it fit neatly with all the other odd shaped pieces.

The rooster crowed again, and Dan heard the sounds of his parents puttering around in the kitchen below. He sighed, and carefully started shifting his weight until he crept up over Harry.

One foot on the floor, he resisted the urge to yelp at the sudden cold. He must have made some noise, as Harry stirred beneath him. Those sweet, expressive eyes blinked open, mere inches from his own face.

He took it in stride. “Morning, Dan. Is this some yoga routine, or did I misunderstand something about the whole one bed situa-”

Dan flung himself onto the floor. “No misunderstanding,” he said feebly. “I need to go help with the chores. You go back to sleep.”

Above him, Harry propped himself on one elbow and leaned over the edge of the bed to look down on him. “I uh, don’t think I’ll be able to fall back asleep after a wake up call like that.”

Below them, Dan’s parents were reacting to the sound of Dan’s fall. “You boys alright up there?”

He rapped on the floor twice. “Fine, Daddy Bob! Be down in a minute!” He looked up at Harry, who looked thoroughly amused at the whole arrangement. “Unless you have any experience with hogs, I’d recommend taking your sweet time up here.”

He picked himself up and dusted off his clothes. For the first time, he was grateful that he hadn’t brought his silk pajamas or smoking jacket. He frowned at the thought of not being able to show off his better clothes in front of Harry.

Suddenly he remembered he was still standing in front of Harry, in the shabbiest, thinnest, worn-down striped pajamas he owned. He looked down, then back up at Harry quickly. “I gotta- breakfast,” he blabbered, dashing out of the room.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” Harry called after him, between laughs.

___

Dan splashed enough cold water on his face to bring even the dopiest man to his senses. He hoped it would be enough for him too.

Downstairs, Daddy Bob was already dressed, and waiting with a cup of coffee for him.

“I don’t suppose you’d want to come out and help me muck out the sty.”

“I don’t want to, but I will,” he answered honestly.

He waited for the telltale sound of running water, and timed his return back upstairs for when Harry was in the bathroom. Dan dressed quickly, hoping to avoid another awkward scene.

Back downstairs, Daddy Bob had a spare pair of boots for him. “Don’t want you to ruin your fancy city shoes,” he said, toeing along the fine leather of Dan’s loafers.

“Thanks.” It had completely slipped his mind.

“It’s nothing,” Daddy Bob waved dismissively, an oversized gesture not unlike Dan’s own exaggerated displays of physicality.

___

The first few rays of sunshine had scarcely crested the dawn when they first went out, but it was fully bright and sunny by the time Dan trudged back towards the house.

“Do ya miss farming at all, son?”

“No.”

Daddy Bob laughed warmly. “Well, at least you’ll get your fill of it this week.”

He groaned. He thought he had gotten desensitized to smells after the last garbage strike, but two hours in the pigsty with his pop had him debating chopping his nose off.

“Bet your mama has breakfast ready by now.”

Dan waved him off. “No thanks, I need to go shower a few layers of scum off first.”

He took the stairs two at a time, and found the second floor mercifully empty. Fear of Harry taking flight was a secondary worry to Harry catching him now, covered in mud. At least he could only hope it was mostly mud.

It took over twenty minutes to get the tub half filled, and there was no hot water left for him to shave, but he was looking a damn sight better than he was before when he finally went downstairs again.

He found Harry looking around at all the pictures in the parlor.

“There’s enough baby pictures in here to make the stork want to retire,” Dan announced.

Harry jumped in surprise. “Didn’t hear you come in. Are these all you?” He pointed at nearly half a dozen frames on the mantle.

“Only about half of the ones in dresses are me, the rest are Donna. You can tell which ones are mine because I’m cuter.”

“Yeah, I can see it,” Harry said, squinting at one picture. “You’ve got a smug obnoxious smile even here as a toddler.”

He preened. “Thank you. Ready to tag along to the airport?”

Harry pulled at his threadbare housecoat. “Give me five minutes to change.”

Dan pretended to check his watch. “Starting…now!”

Harry sprinted up the stairs.

___

The drive was quiet.

Dan pulled off at a small diner about twenty miles out of Baton Rouge. “Come on, this will be your only civilized meal all week.”

Harry balked. “The food wasn’t bad yesterday.”

“Just wait til they pass the chicken feet tonight. It’s an acquired delicacy.”

Harry looked determined. “I’ll learn to acquire it.”

“It’s a curse,” Dan threatened. “You’ll learn to love them and then struggle to find anywhere that can make them right on the wrong side of the Mason-Dixon line.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Harry disappeared behind the big plastic menu. “Your childhood home isn’t that bad, you know, in a homestyle kind of way.”

“You understand the running water and electricity are modern improvements, right? I spent half my childhood fetching well water, like out of some nursery rhyme.”

“Well, that’s-”

“I was the only guy at college who’d never even seen television before," he continued bluntly. “Found out the hard way that those Green Acres reruns weren’t supposed to make you feel homesick either.”

“It’s not that bad, “ Harry offered. “But if your parents do have a talking pig, I definitely need to see it before we leave.”

Dan laughed despite himself. Harry had this funny way of making him see the humor in the situation, the lighter side of the living hell that his life had spun into.

It was another side of Harry that Dan struggled to fit into the picture. There was no reason why a guy facing the charges he was had any right to be happy and humorous right now.

“How long have you been working the streets?”

Harry didn’t seem fazed by the sudden change in topic. “On and off. I did street magic for a while, street performer stuff at summer festivals, down the boardwalk in Jersey for a bit.”

“And the three card monte schtick?”

“Let me put it this way,” Harry said, folding his hands on the table in front of him. “Suppose you were starving to death, and you didn’t have food and you didn’t have any money, and you didn’t have any place to get anything.”

“If you’re asking whether I’d steal a loaf of bread, I would. But you were caught ripping off tourists.” Dan tutted. “A real New Yorker would’ve just mugged an old lady for her purse and ran off.”

Harry shrugged. “Tourists have deeper pockets. Usually.”

Dan laughed bitterly. “Yeah, your way’s smarter, til you wind up in cuffs.”

Another shrug. “Good thing I know how to slip out of handcuffs then.”
___

After loading up on biscuits and gravy, they piled back into the car. “Mama usually goes all out for Christmas dinner, so that’s gotta last you until then.”

Harry patted his lean stomach. “It will. Thanks for buying.”

Dan wished he could take his eyes off the road long enough to roll them at Harry. “As much as I’d like to make you pay, it’s not like you’re here by choice.” Besides, he was saving his receipts. He wasn’t going to miss a chance to claim every expense incurred so far, with both the DA’s office and on his taxes.

“I already told you, this is better than what I planned anyway.”

“Going back out and conning more strangers on street corners?”

“I believe I have the right to plead the fifth and avoid incriminating myself further.” Dan huffed at that non-answer while Harry drummed his fingers on his knees for a minute. “What did you do for Christmas last year? Your mom said you spent it in Hollywood?”

Dan pretended to shoulder check to avoid having Harry see his face. “I lied. Spent it alone at the movies all day. No one notices you're alone in the dark.”

“Jeez, Dan.”

“Plus, if you’re crying, they give you a free refill on popcorn.” He cracked a small smile. “Free butter too, if it’s great heaving, blubbery sobs.”

Harry let that sit for a moment. It was silent in the car, except for the radio faintly playing Benny Goodman in the background.

“What do you want for Christmas, then? If you don’t want family, and you don’t want to be alone? How would you spend the day?”

Dan focused on the road for a minute instead of answering. It took a lot of willpower not to drive right into the swampy meridian to avoid having to speak.

“Somewhere where I’m not,” he finally said.

___

They got to the airport early, which was fine by Dan. He and Harry killed the time looking around the duty free shop, and Dan politely thumbed through a Playboy at the magazine counter when he saw Harry approach the cash register.

That idiot better not spend his last few dollars buying Christmas presents, he thought.

He only reluctantly folded the centerfold back up when flight 970 from Atlanta was announced. He gathered Harry, and they made their way over to the gate, where several families were strewn about, gushing and crying and hugging. Dan grimaced at the sight.

The last person to exit the plane stood around expectantly, straining her neck to look through the crowd.

“Donna!” He waved at the statuesque brunette headed their way.

“Danny!” She ran towards him. “Oh, it’s so good to see you!” She punctuated her hug with a kiss on Dan’s cheek, leaving a faint hint of lipstick. “Sorry, I’m so used to having to claim my men.”

“Better stake your claim on him before someone else snatches him up,” Harry said, reaching forward for a handshake. “Hi, Harry Stone. I’m a colleague of your brothers, and might I say, you’re even more beautiful in person.”

She blushed. “Oh, come here, you charmer. Betcha Danny didn’t tell you we’re a hugging family.”

“That’s because I don’t hug,” Dan grumbled while Donna pulled Harry in tightly. He made a big show of looking around. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

Donna rolled her eyes. “He couldn’t make it, if Mama and Daddy Bob are asking.”

Dan played the big brother card for the first time in his life. “And if I’m asking?”

“If you must know, about three months ago Mama called me when I had a gentleman caller over. He happened to answer the phone, and what else could I say? I couldn’t very well tell my mother that I only wanted him around for one night. Pardon my indelicate nature,” she added to Harry.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, tugging on his suspenders. “Don’t let the outfit fool you, I’m really a man of the ‘80s.”

“The 1880s,” Dan said dismissively. “Wait, so you didn’t bring anybody home with you?”

“Well no, silly,” Donna said with a laugh. “I didn’t know bringing coworkers was an option- you would’ve loved my assistant Charlotte. Besides, we all know that old house is far too small for all of us.” She turned sympathetically towards Harry. “If he made you take that old couch, I’ll help you take his cheap ass to court.”

Harry rebuffed her offer but gallantly insisted on carrying her suitcase, and took off towards the car.

Donna reached for Dan’s wrist, holding him back a moment. “Danny, I don’t know what his story is, but your friend is cuuuute as a button.”

Dan nearly swallowed his tongue. “I’ll tell you his story later, if you promise me you’ll keep your hands off of him.”

She bit her lip in thought, and Dan suddenly understood why all of his coworkers called him frustrating to deal with whenever his libido got involved. “Not sure that’s a promise I’ll be able to keep, big brother.”

Dan sighed as they headed to catch up with Harry. This whole week had felt like a carefully set up game of chess that he was barely keeping up with, and now it seemed that the queen had entered the game.

___

They all piled neatly into his rental car. Harry naturally offered to take the backseat, and entertained himself with his deck of cards for the first twenty miles while Dan and Donna caught up.

Dan had been out of her life for roughly twenty five years, from when he left for college until about two years ago when she happened to be in New York on business and decided to look up her older brother. The fifteen year age gap naturally added to the distance, but Dan had been pleasantly surprised to find that he and Donna had a lot in common.

“And then my boss mentioned that he was going to work on my evaluation over lunch, and-”

“-you went down to the restaurant, disguised yourself as a waitress, and tried to spy on your boss to find out what he was putting on your evaluation?” Dan guessed.

“No, don’t be silly,” Donna gushed, playfully hitting him on the arm. “Coat check girl is much easier, plus I just picked his pocket and read the damn thing myself.”

“Atta girl,” Dan managed between laughs. “So work’s going well then?”

“Yeah, more or less. What about you, Mr Big City Prosecutor?”

Dan tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Not bad. You know it was always my childhood dream to prosecute Santa Claus for a public urination charge.”

“Oh, I saw that guy in Holding the other night,” Harry added.

Dan looked into the rearview mirror, fixing his eyes on the wild card in the backseat. “No, this one was two weeks ago. That Santa was in for public intoxication.”

Harry slid the cards from one hand to the other in a well practised move. “Either way, he had too much eggnog.”

Donna laughed. “I bet you two see all sorts of characters down at the courthouse.”

“Harry’s new,” Dan hurried to explain. “He won’t be a true night courter until he sees his first bomb threat.”

Harry crossed his fingers. “Any day now.”

___

The fuss over Donna coming home was enough for Dan and Harry to slip into a quiet corner of the kitchen and sit back, out of the way and out of mind.

Dan was exhausted, and he had muscles cramping in odd places from his hard work in the morning, coupled with the stiffness from his second airport drive in as many days.

Of course Harry seemed no worse for wear, but Harry never did. Dan figured that Harry could go lie down with the hogs and come back looking just as cute and as charming as ever.

Judging from the glances that Donna kept sneaking at Harry, he guessed she was thinking the same thing.

Musette kept a careful eye on the stove while she coddled and asked after Donna, timing dishes and bringing over more heaping plates of food with the kind of precision that a Michelin star restaurant would envy.

Of course, a Michelin star restaurant rarely served seared alligator, but Dan still enjoyed the comparison.

“Mama, please, let us help you with that,” Donna insisted.

“I’m told my steady hands are my best feature,” Harry added.

Both Dan and Donna’s heads whipped his way, while Musette laughed them both off.

“No worry, darlins’. I’ve been cooking this Christmas supper for years.”

“Never for this many people at once,” Dan pointed out.

“The more the merrier,” Daddy Bob countered.

Musette smiled, eyes crinkling with fondness. “He’s right. It’s so good to have the house filled up again.”

___

After dinner, they all lingered in the kitchen.

“It’s where we do most of our entertaining these days anyhow.”

Dan snorted. “What entertaining? Do you bring the hogs in to play canasta?”

“Dan, be nice,” Donna chided, despite the grin on her face.

A little later, Daddy Bob roasted popcorn over the wood stove, while Musette went to fetch thread and needles to string the kernels to hang on the tree. Daddy Bob had brought in the tree earlier in the day while they were picking up Donna. The dry branches and mere handful of ornaments had it looking like the most pathetic display of holiday cheer, but Musette insisted that popcorn strings would brighten it up.

“At least you didn’t have to cry for this one,” Harry whispered as he passed the popcorn bowl to Dan.

Dan munched. “Maybe I should’ve. Needs more salt.”

Harry smiled at the joke. “Your sister seems nice. Her accent is much thicker than yours, though.”

“She hasn't had as much time away from here,” he explained, his face pinching sympathetically. “Poor kid.”

____

“Now you boys get ready for mass!”

Dan groaned. “Mama, please. Harry’s not even-”

“Not even thinking about skipping midnight mass!” Harry interrupted. “I’ll uh, just go put on a tie or something.”

“He has fun ties,” Musette stage whispered as Harry left the room. “I ‘specially liked that one with the palm trees on it. He’s a snappy dresser.”

Dan snorted. “Of course you think so. Last time you were in a department store was 1947.”

Dan hadn’t been to mass since he left home. It hadn’t changed much over the years- that was the point of rituals, he supposed. The dull faced people of the town and surrounding area didn’t seem to recognize him, and he preferred it that way.

He settled in the pew in between Harry and Donna, and tried to follow along, letting his mind wander here and there. Like a boring night in court, he knew exactly when to tune out and let his imagination take over.

Unfortunately, the only thing his mind could conjure up was the conjurer sitting next to him. Harry always seemed to zag when he should zig, compliment when he should complain, and just generally be cheerful in a way that Dan should have found infuriating, but somehow seemed to enjoy. He was a charming, endearing, likable guy. Normally, Dan would have been trying to catalogue his weaknesses, trying to find ways to prosecute him more effectively to ensure that conviction he had argued for.

Instead, he only could think of ways to bring out that big, bright smile again.

Harry spared him a quick glance before the prayer, giving him a flash of that grin.

“Amen.”

___

“Are you boys coming?”

Dan watched Harry hang back by the car for a moment. “Yeah, just gonna enjoy the night air for a sec, Daddy Bob!”

Harry smiled at him. The big bright moon lit up his whole face, and it nearly took Dan’s breath away.

“Sorry, I just need a minute. You don’t need to worry.”

“I could use one too,” Dan agreed.

They lingered on the slanted porch. The wood creaked and swayed when Dan leaned his hip against the railing. Next to him, Harry hunched over the handrail, eyes firmly kept up looking at the sky in awe.

“I’ve never seen so many stars before,” he marveled. “It’s one thing knowing they’re out there, but it’s something else seeing them for real.”

“Took it for granted as a kid. Of course now I can take light bulbs for granted instead.”

Harry chuckled. “It’s not so bad. You keep putting this place down, but it’s cozy. It’s homey.” He took a deep breath, the smile dropping from his face. “I don’t remember the last Christmas I had with both my parents together.”

Dan nudged one of his feet with his own. “Want to talk about, or want to sit in silence?”

“Silence, I think.”

He wrapped an arm around Harry’s thin shoulders, holding him close. It felt like the right thing to do in the moment, confirmed when Harry leaned into the small embrace. “Whatever you want.”

___

MONDAY, DECEMBER 25TH

For the second morning in a row, Dan awoke to the rooster’s crowing. It was still dark out, and he resisted the oncoming morning by burrowing into the bed, nestling his face into the pillow. It smelled amazing but tickled his nose.

When his pillow hummed, Dan nearly fell backwards in shock.

“Morning,” Harry mumbled. “If you can even call it that.”

“I wouldn’t.” Dan feigned nonchalance, even though he was pretty sure Harry was close enough to feel his heart racing. “Any chance we can sleep another four hours?”

“S’your house, you know the rules more’n I do,” Harry mumbled back.

There was nowhere on the planet he’d rather be right now, including Tahiti, or the Playboy Mansion. Here he was comfy, he was relaxed, and he didn’t feel his usual urge to compensate for what he lacked. He wasn’t inadequate, but he also wasn’t above it all. He just was here, in the moment, with Harry’s heavy breaths acting as a calming presence.

He burrowed back in. “The hogs can wait,” he decided.

___

Two hours later, at a slightly more reasonable hour, Dan woke to Harry stirring next to him.

“Sorry to wake you.”

Dan frowned. “No, you’re not.”

Harry folded his arms behind his head. “No, I guess I’m not. Merry Christmas, Dan.”

“Merry Christmas.” He stretched out his legs, letting out a high pitched gasp when his toes poked out from under the blanket and into the cold air.

Harry threw his head back and laughed. “Not the noise I was expecting you to make in bed.”

Dan smacked him in the face with the pillow.

___

Once the pillow fight was over and the feathers had been brushed off their clothes, they made their way down the stairs, finding the whole family waiting for them.

“Merry Christmas, boys!”

“Merry Christmas Mama, Daddy Bob, Donna,” Dan said, nodding to each in turn. Behind him, Harry lingered a little bashfully on the staircase. Dan reached for his elbow. “Come on and join the family,” he whispered.

The parlor was small, much smaller than the kitchen. Daddy Bob had his armchair, Musette kept to a rocker, and Donna made do sitting cross legged on the floor.

In the light of day, the tree looked fuller, the green more vibrant, and the popcorn strings filled the spaces between the scarce few ornaments.

Dan felt Harry’s hand twitch next to his. “Merry Christmas, Elmores. Your home is so beautiful.”

Daddy Bob nodded gratefully. “Why, thank you, son.”

Harry’s hand snuck into Dan’s. He squeezed it back. “Alright, enough with the sappiness.”

Donna agreed. “It’s time for presents!”

Dan and Harry folded themselves down and joined her on the floor, making a line from the tree to the furniture to pass gifts along to their recipients. There weren’t many gifts, and the wrapping paper seemed to be mostly old newspapers, but Dan held his tongue and kept from critiquing the squalor of it all.

The look on his mother’s face when she unwrapped the plush robe helped keep him quiet.

“Oh, Danny, thank you,” she said, eyes so watery it defied physics how she wasn’t crying yet. “But you didn’t have to go to any trouble for us.”

“We don’t ask for anything in return, ‘cepting the occasional phone call. Or visit, every few years,” Daddy Bob agreed.

“Yeah, well, in the meantime, these’ll have to do,” Dan groused, passing the next gift down the line. It was a small box he didn’t recognize, wrapped in brown paper. He didn’t recognize the writing on the tag either. “For Mama, It looks like.”

It was a pair of earrings, nothing too fancy, but still the nicest piece of jewelry that had ever passed through that home. “My word, they’re beautiful.”

Harry’s face reddened, but he didn’t say anything.

Donna had gotten Daddy Bob a new bolo tie from a work trip to New Mexico, and he was holding it up to the light streaming in from the window, enjoying the bright shine of the turquoise.

“You sure it’s not too flashy?”

“Oh Daddy Bob, it ain’t half as flashy as what the men wear down in Atlanta.”

Dan agreed. “I see at least one pimp a week looking much flashier than that.” He dodged Donna’s pointed elbow, and gracefully handed her a bag. “For you, dear baby sister.”

“Why, thank you, Dan.” She gasped when she pulled the bottle out. “Dan, this is a $150 bottle of perfume!”

“And you’re worth every penny,” he said, ignoring the way he could feel his wallet tightening as he said it. But this was his first Christmas home in decades, and he needed to fight off his usual cheapskate tendencies to make a really good impression for his family.

He had a spare one left untagged, intended for Donna’s boyfriend. He had planned on learning the jerk’s name on Christmas Eve, and adding the tag at the last minute. But now, it worked out even better, as he took the small, neat box and handed it to Harry. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

“For me?” Harry looked surprised. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he said, and he meant it.

Harry deftly sagged a thumbnail under the tape and carefully unwrapped the box. “Oh Dan, these are wonderful.” He held up the pair of kid gloves for the whole family to see.

“They’ll keep you warm.”

“I’ll say!” Harry tugged them on. They were a perfect fit. He stared at his hands in awe, flexing out his fingers. “They’re perfect. Thank you, Dan.”

___

The gloves weren’t the only gift Harry received. Donna contributed a box of chocolates, Daddy Bob gave a worn copy of Murder, My Sweet, and Musette had found an old wooden yo-yo, which Dan thought looked vaguely familiar to him.

Harry looked around the room, visibly choked up with emotion. Dan felt stabs of pity for him- as much as he criticized and complained about his family, he did still have them. He loathed to imagine how dire the situation must be to have to long for second hand gifts from the Elmore family.

Donna cornered him in the kitchen when they went to go make coffee for everyone.

“No. Mama, you rest for a spell. Danny and I can manage,” Donna said sweetly, tugging Dan along by the ear.

Dan kneeled down and got to work lighting the fire in the stove, hoping to delay talking about whatever was troubling Donna. Instead she loomed over him, keeping him trapped between a rock and a burning oven.

“Alright Danny, you promised to tell me what was up with that sweet boy of yours. First he acts all polite, then he nearly burst into tears when Mama gave him your old toy.”

“He’s not my sweet boy.” He frowned as Donna gave him enough room to stand up again. “Well, legally he is.”

“Legally?” Donna matched his frown. “Is there something wrong with that charmer?”

“Yes. Yes, he is charming, and yes, there’s something wrong. Unfortunately he’s a crook. When we get back to New York, I’m going to try to put him in jail. In the meantime, he didn’t have any place to spend Christmas so…”

Donna looked at him, eyes watery at the corners. “Oh Danny, I can’t believe it. First you tell me that sweet man is a crook, then you say you couldn’t bear the thought of him alone at Christmas.”

The second part wasn’t true, but he didn’t want to argue the point when she looked like she was on the verge of crying. Dan had made his baby sister cry on Christmas Day before, but he figured he should have outgrown the habit by now.

“Look, calm down. Harry’s a con man, not a murderer. He didn’t even steal that much money.”

The kettle steamed, and Donna moved to pour the water into the waiting mugs. “If he didn’t take that much, then does he really- I mean, do you have to prosecute him so harshly?”

“It’s my job,” he said, not unkindly. “And if I didn’t, my boss would get someone else to. A bunco artist charge like this at this time of year is great press. It shows the DA’s office is trying to keep the streets safe for tourists.” He felt his mouth turn down at the corners as he said it, unable to hide his distaste at the situation.

“Sounds mighty unfair to everyone involved,” Donna assessed, stirring the coffee carefully so the spoon didn’t clink the sides of the mugs. In a house like this, they couldn’t afford to replace anything that broke. “He’s honest, you can tell by looking at his face.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Your sharp legal mind is being wasted at Farmer Frank’s corporate office. Legal Aid could really use your trusted do judge a book by its cover argument.”

She ignored him, instead choosing to stare back into the parlor, watching Harry entertain their parents with a complicated yo-yo trick. “He really isn’t a crook, right? You’re just making one of your bad, mean jokes at my expense.”

Dan folded his arms. “No, I’m afraid it's all true. It’s not even his first offense. He’s looking at a real possibility of jail.”

“Poor thing,” Donna cooed. “But that doesn’t mean he isn’t unhappy, lonely, or a human being just like the rest of us.” She turned back to Dan. “I hope he enjoys his stay with us. We need to make him happy and comfortable while he’s here.”

“I've been trying!" Dan surprised himself by saying it out loud.

Donna squeezed his hand. “I know.”

___

After tidying all the wrapping paper, they settled around for a breakfast of the previous night’s leftovers.

True to his word, Harry did seem to be enjoying the chicken feet.

“Mama does make them best,” Donna sighed wistfully. “I mean I can find them in Atlanta, but it’s not the same.”

“What do you do in Atlanta?” Harry asked between bites.

“I’m VP of marketing for Farmer Frank’s Pork Products.”

Harry’s face perked up in recognition. “Oh, they’re the ones with the cute little cartoon pig on the packaging? I love their link sausages.”

“Why, thank you.” She smiled proudly. “You know, it was my idea to dress up the little pig in overalls.”

“That was you? Oh wow, that’s incredible. The outfit really makes the pig!”

“That’s what I like to say about Danny,” she giggled.

Dan sipped his coffee, letting the slight wash over him. He didn’t disagree with it.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, appraising Dan with his eyes. “They warned me about him at the courthouse, but I don’t think he’s as bad as everyone says.”

Dan choked on his coffee. He settled down, after Harry thumped him on the back a few times.

“You boys play nice,” Musette called over her shoulder from the kitchen sink. “What are you fixing to do today?”

“What do you recommend to do around here?” Harry asked, once he was sure Dan wasn’t in the throes of choking to death.

Even raspy and out of breath, Dan couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Leave?”

Musette tutted. “Oh, Danny. There’s the big dance tonight. Why don’t you go show your friend around town in the meantime?”

“Why not. Come on Harry, I’ll show you the sight. Singular. Donna, you want to come play tour guide?”

She watched the way Harry’s hand lingered on Dan’s back. “No, you boys go ahead. I’ll stay and catch up with Mama.”

__

After a few mornings together now, they had begun to learn each other’s rhythms and routines. Dan got dressed while Harry took his short time in the bathroom, and then Dan took longer shaving and styling his hair while Harry took his time deciding between which garish tie he would wear.

The old style thermometer by the front door showed 50°F, and Harry was already rolling up his sleeves by the time they reached the end of the dirt driveway, turning left to walk along the paved rural highway towards Paris.

“How far is it?” Harry asked for the sake of asking.

“Half a mile, give or take? There isn’t really anything to see.”

Harry jammed his hands in his pockets. “I’d like to see it anyway.”

“Suit yourself.”

Dan pointed out the church they had visited the night before, with the small cemetery in the back now visible in the light of day.

“Going to show me my tombstone, O Ghost of Christmas Present?”

Harry smiled. “Nah, I was always more of It’s A Wonderful Life guy.”

“Of course you were. George Bailey is a classic sap, I’m sure you can relate.”

Harry gave him an appraising look, eyes roving up and down Dan’s body. “Actually this week has convinced me Scrooge is compelling. Sometimes it’s nice seeing a jerk find redemption.”

“Hey!”

___

They continued down the road. Dan would point out a farmhouse or two, talk a little about the family that lived there. Or, at least the family that lived there nearly thirty years ago.

“The McQuarrie kids lived there. They loved to chase me down.”

“You were an obnoxious little shit even then?” Harry guessed.

“Not exactly. I guess I was just an easy target. You know how cruel kids can be. Even now. There’s this smart-mouthed little shoeshine kid who I just want to strangle-”

Harry’s peals of laughs echoed around the empty landscape. People were spending their Christmas Day inside at home, and Dan and Harry had not come across another soul their entire walk.

Dan looked around, faintly recognizing the trees. “This is about it. Ready to go back?”

“Sure. Where’s this dance supposed to be tonight?”

“The church. Where else?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. Thought maybe it could be a barn dance or something.”

“Not unless you want to dance with someone’s hog.”

They both rightfully let that remark pass.

___

Donna and his parents were playing cards when they returned. Dan briefly considered handcuffing Harry and throwing him in the trunk of the car.

“Dan, Harry, come join us!” Donna pushed out an empty seat at the kitchen table with her foot. “Harry, do you play gin rummy?”

Dan hesitated at the door. “I don’t know if this is a good idea-”

“Dan, stop being a worrywart. Come on, Harry.”

Harry looked like a natural, fitting in perfectly in between Daddy Bob and Donna. Dan felt an annoying surge of affection at the sight of Harry laughing and playing with his family.

He focused on the cards in his hand, growing more annoyed with how good they were. He spared a quick glance at Harry, who looked unnaturally angelic.

___

They passed most of the day playing games and snacking, until finally the sun began to set and Daddy Bob announced they should start getting ready for the town’s big annual Christmas dance.

Donna rightfully tied up the bathroom the longest while getting ready, and Dan petulantly waited his turn stuck in the bedroom with Harry.

“They seem proud of you,” Harry noted, seeming to choose his words carefully, but also desperate to get Dan to say anything besides moaning at how long his sister was taking with the one mirror in the house. Daddy Bob and Musette’s bedroom and bath on the ground floor also didn’t have a mirror- and it showed.

“Yeah, sure they’re proud. They’ve always been proud, that’s the problem!” Dan threw up his hands in frustration as he paced back and forth in the small room. “You know, a man can’t be proud of pulling himself up out of the dirt if he’s still covered in dirt.”

Harry paused, his shirt only half buttoned. “You resent them.”

Dan turned on him. “It’s not that simple. I care about them. I paid off Daddy Bob’s mortgage on the dirt farm. I sent money home for Donna to go to business school. When they got electricity, I bought them a toaster!”

“Do you ever call them? Do you ever tell them you love them, instead of buying it?”

Dan sighed, deflating so much it looked like he shrunk several inches. “When they call, they ask why I don’t come home. And when I come home, I’m not Dan Fielding any more. I’m scared, shy little Reinhold, staying up all night reading books and hiding from schoolkid bullies in drain pipes.” He sat down heavily on the bed. “I don’t like who I was when I was here. Reinhold Elmore belongs in the past, ok?”

Harry sat down next to him. He put his hand on Dan’s knee softly. “You’re the only one bringing up the past here. I don’t think your family is asking for anything besides a chance to be in your future.”

They sat for a minute, Dan letting the words sink in.

A knock at the door startled them both. “Ok Danny, go get yourself all dolled up,” Donna called.

___

The five of them piled into Dan’s rental car and he drove the short distance into town. His parents looked better than he could remember, with Daddy Bob in his new bolo tie and Musette in a new dress that Donna had gifted her that morning.

“I’m just so happy to see you both happy,” Donna had said, with a big smile lighting up her face. She of course was wearing a beautiful dress- she had inherited Dan’s good fashion sense.

Dan wore the one suit he’d packed again, having completely forgotten about the stupid town dance.

And Harry wore the nicest suit Dan had seen him in to date, a lovely brown wool vintage one, but the cut flattered his long legs and lean limbs.

“You look nice,” Dan managed, while they waited politely for the older folks to make their way down the driveway.

“You clean up pretty well yourself.”

___

The small church was barely transformed. The pews were pushed to the side to make a small dancefloor, and there was a table off to the side overflowing with refreshments. Donna carried their offering to the affair- a pie she and Musette had baked earlier in the day.

She returned to where Dan and Harry hung awkwardly by the door. “Pardon me, sir, but may I have this dance?”

Harry threw a quick scared look at Dan, trying to gauge his reaction. “Uhh, sure?”

Dan nodded his assent. “Go have fun. I’ll go spike the punch bowl. With arsenic.”

He watched Donna pull him by the tie onto the dancefloor where mostly older couples were already moving about. There weren’t as many younger people in the area- younger being relative, of course, considering Dan himself was now pushing mid-40s. Even Donna now had to be almost 30. Dan sighed, wondering where all the time had gone.

___

After sitting around watching the dancers for a while, Dan slipped out to get some air. The night was still- it was always still out here. He missed the constant thrum of a city night.

Not that he was so desperate for action that he’d find someone here, but he was growing annoyed with himself. For someone who so often wanted to be alone, he had felt more than a little jealous at seeing how well Donna and Harry danced together.

He walked around the church, kicking at rocks along the dirt path towards the cemetery.

“That’s got to be some kind of bad luck.”

Harry’s voice took him by surprise.

“I’ll risk it.” He waited for Harry to join him near the iron fence. “What’s the matter? Tired of Paris’ thriving social scene?”

“No, Donna needed a break from me stepping on her toes.”

Dan let the lie pass. He had been watching, had seen how gracefully Harry had danced.

“Thanks for being a good sport about everything. I know this isn’t anyone’s idea of a good Christmas or anything,” Dan said, waving around to illustrate the meagreness of the holiday entertainment.

Harry shook his head bitterly. “I keep telling you. This is more than I’ve had in years.”

Dan snorted. “Even the Cratchits had more than this.”

Harry sighed heavily. “My mom left when I was five. She was sick. In and out of institutions for a while. I was never allowed to see her.” He fiddled with his hands. “Looking back now, I understand it, of course. But for the longest time, I thought my mom didn’t want to live with me anymore.”

Dan leaned against the iron, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s. He’d picked up that Harry seemed to enjoy physical contact. “What about the rest of your family?”

“Dad and I were close, but he died when I was fifteen. Do you remember my juvenile grand theft auto charge?”

Dan nodded.

“It was one of the last things I did before he got sick. I always felt I let him down- it was just a stupid prank, but maybe it broke his heart.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Harry shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve worked with enough phony mystics over the years to be skeptical, but maybe there’s some truth to the afterlife, even if I don’t fully believe it.” He grimaced. “I put myself through law school for my dad. I thought maybe he was out there somewhere, looking down at me and feeling proud.”

“I’m sure he was.” Dan said solemnly, the enormity of Harry’s story finally sinking in. “Wait, you went to law school?”

“Sure did.”

“You got your JD, and you’re living in a mouse trap factory?”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. “I did pass the bar, but I never started practicing law. My heart was in my summer job, performing magic tricks at birthday parties. And then I had an agent for a bit, got a few nightclub gigs. It wasn’t bad for a while.”

“And then what happened?”

Harry shrugged. “Life, I guess.”

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 26TH

Dan was starting to get a hang on their mornings together. Harry seemed to enjoy physical touch- Dan rationalized that it probably helped his skinny frame warm up. The bed was slightly too small for them to both lie on their backs, but Harry slept on his side, curled up comfortably next to Dan’s shoulder, his head half supported by the pillow, and half by Dan’s body.

Dan had perfected the smooth morning-after from his many years of sleeping his way through Manhattan’s most desirable singles. He knew how to pretend to sleep convincingly, how to time his wakeup, when to offer breakfast, and when to pretend he had an early morning at work.

But this arrangement was entirely new to him. He found it hard not to enjoy the sight of Harry sleeping peacefully next to him, found it almost harder to resist the siren call to close his eyes and stay as long as he could in bed with Harry.

But he heard the faint rumble of water rumbling below, and figured he should be up and helping his aging parents. He very carefully dislodged himself and crawled over Harry’s sleeping frame, tiptoeing his way out of the room and grabbing a pair of pants along the way. He quickly dressed in the bathroom and swigged some mouthwash.

Downstairs, Musette was making coffee and Daddy Bob was sitting at the table, fully dressed already. He nodded his approval at the sight of Dan ready for work.

“Come to join me again, son?”

His smile was genuine. “Of course, Daddy Bob.”

___

The last full day at the Elmore home passed slowly. Dan spent a few hours outside doing chores with his father, and then took a long bath to clean off the muck. Again, he found himself longing for the scum of the city, but he had a smile on his face as he scrubbed the dirt out from under his nails.

He returned to the bedroom, hoping to start packing up. He was surprised by Harry sitting on the bed, reading his book.

“Growing tired of Ma and Pa Kettle?” Dan asked, turning up the accent for the mocking names.

“They’re taking a nap. It’s either this, or joining Donna. She’s painting her nails.” He paused. “She said I’m an autumn.”

“She’s flattering you.” He kneeled down and pulled out his suitcase, starting to fold his clothes.

Harry watched him for a moment, his book momentarily forgotten. “Did you ever tell your parents that you’re queer?”

Dan wished he was drinking right now just to be able to spit it out in shock. “What?”

Harry waited patiently for the hysterics to subside. “You never brought up my solicitation charge. Also you have the limpest wrist this side of the Mississippi.”

“Do you even know which side of the Mississippi you’re on?”

“No, but I’m still right.”

Dan smiled despite himself, but it was a cruel imitation of his usual smarmy grin. “Would you tell them? Do you think these two have any idea what that means, besides some scripture about Sodom and Gomorrah?”

“Good point. Wanting acceptance and getting a bible verse instead-”

“Acceptance? You think I want acceptance from these people?”

Harry leaned back against the wall. “What do you want, Dan? You seem to know exactly what’s wrong with everyone around here. Why don’t you do us all a favor and tell me what they need to do right?”

He slammed his suitcase shut and left the room. Dan didn’t like not having the last word, but Harry caught him speechless, and he turned on his other trusted tactic- he fled.

___

As much as he loved attention, Dan did hate being a public spectacle. It tended to happen a lot to him, and crawling back to make grand apologies seemed to be a nearly weekly occurrence for him these days. He blamed Billie and Christine for trying to make him a better person.

He paused. He figured he could now add Harry to the blame list.

The afternoon was winding down. Dan had walked all the way down to the old creek, and now was making the walk of shame back home. The winter sun hung low in the air when he climbed the back steps of the house.

Voices floated from the kitchen, and leaned against the door frame, unabashedly spying.

“Did Danny ever tell you anything about his childhood?” his mother asked, her creaking voice barely heard over the sink running.

“Not much of it,” he heard Harry answer.

“Well, you can prob’ly tell we were mighty poor then. Even worse off than we are now. As a matter of fact, we had nothing. Danny had to do chores for other folks before and after school to help us pay down the bills. When he was in high school, he drove a delivery truck every afternoon, on top of all his studying. He always dreamed of going to law school. Then he worked his way through college to pay for it, any job he could find and hold down.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Harry asked curiously.

Musette smiled. “I don’t want you thinking ill of my Danny boy. We don’t mind the way he talks about us, or about this old house. He paid for more than half of it, so we figure he’s entitled to his opinions on it.” She took Harry’s hand, as if to help him understand her point better through contact. “We appreciate everything that boy has done for us over the years, and we don’t mind a thing he does now. We know he’s got a good heart under there, no matter what he may say otherwise.”

Dan faked a couple of heavy footsteps, pretending he was just walking up to the kitchen now. He couldn’t bear to hear his mother go on like that. He had to break up the treacle now before Harry joined in. In this moment, Dan would’ve preferred death instead of hearing Harry defend his character.

“Need any help in here?” he asked facetiously. “I could call Donna back down.”

“Oh, Danny. Always the big kidder.”

Dan flexed his hand out in front of him. “I wasn’t kidding. I’m not ruining these fingers on dirty dishwater.”

___

The last of the leftovers carried them through dinner. Afterwards, Dan and Harry carried out the ancient record player, dusting it off as best as they could. Harry marveled at the classic albums, and the family sat around listening to big band and dixieland music.

Donna nudged Dan in the ribs when Harry had gotten up to turn over the record. “He sure fits in here. You picked a good one.”

Harry turned around when the music started, face brightening when he saw Dan looking at him.

"I think I did,” he mumbled back.

___

He’d never had sex in this house before. Or even in his hometown. Dan didn't lose his virginity until he left for college, and while he quickly made up for lost time, it never occurred to him to go back home for any hookups.

Or maybe, some crazy sentimental part of him thought, he was waiting for someone like Harry to come along.

He looked up at Harry, straddling him, face flushed and eyes wild. He was so cute like this, and Dan couldn’t resist the urge to tug him down by the collar and kiss him until they were both panting and desperate.

“Are we- we really gonna do this?” he managed between breaths.

Harry watched him carefully, the picture of serenity and contemplation except for the heavy rise and fall of his chest. “Do you want to?”

Dan ground his hips up so Harry could feel exactly how much Dan wanted to. “More than you could ever know.”

Harry kissed him again, softer and sweeter than Dan’s passionate kisses. He lingered, he probed, he took his sweet time exploring the rich depths of Dan’s mouth. When he finally pulled back, sucking on Dan’s tongue until he let it go with an obscene pop, Dan’s back was now arched nearly a foot off of the bed, desperate to follow Harry, unable to let him draw back even an inch.

“Want to try something?”

Dan had tried everything before, but here now with Harry, it all felt so fresh and exciting and new. He nodded dumbly.

Harry reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Slipped out of these days ago. Can I-?” he gestured vaguely towards Dan, who understood without needing to hear the words.

Immediately he reached up, hanging his hands limply near the metal rods of the bed frame. Harry looped the cuffs around one of the rods and snapped the cuffs around Dan’s wrists. “How does that feel? Not too tight?”

Dan gave an experimental tug. “Perfect.”

“Good.” Harry started unbuttoning Dan’s shirt, enjoying the unimpeded access the handcuffs allowed.

Normally Dan would be a little hesitant to be in such a vulnerable position, at least with someone who hadn’t laid out some ground rules before. Especially under the same roof as his family, in a room where the door didn’t lock.

As if reading his mind, Harry looked at him. “What are the odds anyone walks in on us?”

“Farming household. They don’t wake up til dawn.”

“And Donna?”

“Maybe put a tie on the doorknob,” he suggested. If she really was his sister, she would understand and respect the sanctity of tie code.

Harry was up in a flash, loosening his tie with one hand and reaching for the doorknob with his other. Dan watched him, his mind turning with all the possibilities of what those deft, nimble fingers were about to do to him.

While he was standing, Harry stopped to strip down to his underwear. Dan enjoyed the shine of his pale skin in the faint moonlight. He really was skinny, but the sight of his lean, long legs had Dan drooling.

“Get over here before I break out of these cuffs,” he hissed.

“Took me five years to learn how to do that.”

"I’ll do it in five seconds if you don’t get your ass back over here.”

Harry huffed a laugh, but he tugged off his socks and hurried back to the bed. He hovered over Dan’s chest, almost afraid to close the distance despite how entwined they had been only a moment ago.

A weird hush fell over the room. It wasn’t so much the weight of the moment, but rather how weightless they were allowed to be here. Consequences awaited both of them back in New York, but here, in rural northern Louisiana, under the moonlight and alone together, nothing mattered besides this moment.

They both came to the same conclusion. Harry looked in Dan’s eyes, hoping to see the same spark he felt. He hummed the first few bars of Moonlight Serenade.

Dan swallowed. “I’m yours.” He was still dressed, although his shirt was unbuttoned, but he spread his legs a bit to underscore his words. Tonight, he was Harry’s, to do with whatever and however he wanted.

“I’ll be good to you,” Harry promised.

“I’ll be good for you,” Dan vowed.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 27TH

Their last morning together was somehow the most awkward.

Only hours ago, Harry had taken him apart with his hands and mouth. Once Dan had been uncuffed and caught his breath, he had vigorously returned the favor.

And now, the morning after. They were in bed, back to back, almost afraid to look at one another. Dan had spent hundreds of nights in bed with another person, or two, and knew from experience that Harry was awake.

But immaturity was one of Dan’s specialties. He could play the silent game as long as Harry could.

They both heard the rest of the house roar to life- rumblings in the kitchen below, Donna’s footsteps on the landing outside. They couldn’t hide from the rest of the world for much longer, nor could they hide from each other.

“Do you want to- Should we talk about it?” Harry offered.

“I probably talked too much already,” Dan said, surprising himself with honesty.

Harry reached behind him, grasping Dan’s bare knee. He squeezed in understanding. “I’ll see you at the breakfast table then.”

___

He was struggling to load the suitcases in the trunk when his father came out to join him.

Oh boy, here it comes. “You’re going to ask why I’m not settled down. Why I don’t come home every year and bring someone with me.”

Daddy Bob shook his head. “Son, we got tired of waiting for you to settle down years ago.”

“Then why all the homespun nonsense about family all week?”

“Well, it doesn’t take a smart man to put two and two together. You’re a single man, living in the city, in expensive suits. Not married and forty f-”

“That’s enough!”

“Well, it’s all true, ain’t it.” Daddy Bob sighed. “We’re glad you’re happy, son. Bring home whoever you want next year, but we’ll be more than happy to see you and Harry again.” He patted Dan on the shoulder as he rose and left the room.

Dan watched him go in wordless shock.

___

Musette dabbed her eyes. “Are you sure you can’t stay any longer?”

“Sorry, Mama. I have to be at a pork producer’s conference in Chicago by Friday. But I promise I’ll be back for Daddy Bob’s birthday in March.” Donna shot Dan an expectant glare.

He cleared his throat. “I could come down too, if you want. Work doesn’t pick up too much until after St Patrick’s Day.”

“We’d love that, son. You know you’re always wanted in this home. You too, Harry.”

He nodded gratefully. “Thank you, ma’am.” He looked over at Dan. “I’m not sure how busy I’ll be then, but I’ll visit when I can.”

Musettes flung her arms wide and scooped both Dan and Harry in a tight embrace.

Behind them, Dan could hear Donna snicker. “Told you we were huggers.”

___

Donna sat up in the front seat with him, and seemed oblivious to the tension between him and Harry. Baton Rouge started to take shape in the distance ahead of them, and Dan wished the drive was longer, that he didn’t have to drop her off so soon.

“We should do this again sometime,” she said, seemingly reading his thoughts. “I have a marketing convention in New York next month. Maybe I could stop by and visit you two at the courthouse?”

“I might be working out of a different court for a while,” Harry lied smoothly. “But Dan will let you know when I’m free.”

Donna smiled knowingly. “I’m sure he will.”

___

Their drive back to New Orleans passed mostly in silence. Harry had joined him up in the front seat, but had nodded off to sleep, his face smushed against the window, fogging up the glass with his breath.

Dan had to fight off the urge to look at him every five hundred feet.

The airport was quiet, especially in the mid-afternoon. He turned in the car keys and picked up their airline tickets with minimal fuss.

Harry yawned as they breezed past the short security line, and found their way through the terminal.

“Hungry?” It was the first thing either one of them had said to the other since Baton Rouge.

“Starving.”

Dan steered them towards a bar overlooking the tarmac.

“I’m down to about $5,” Harry admitted.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m buying- the DA’s office will be buying,” he amended. He scratched his temple. “Look, I’m- I’m not sorry about last night.”

“Thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t. But I don’t want our last conversation together to be pass the salt.”

Harry nodded over his plastic up of ice water. “Fair enough. I’m not sorry about last night either.”

“Good. At least we can agree on something.” His ears instinctively picked up the sound of a stewardess’ heels clicking on the floor behind him, but he kept his eyes fixed on Harry. “It’s been weird, but it’s been a good week. Thanks for making Christmas bearable.”

“Thanks for giving me a family for Christmas.”

Dan smiled. “They're yours for life now, whether you want them or not.”

“That’s a life sentence I’ll gladly take,” he joked, the humor falling flat, and the conversation dying again.

___

Once they were back in New York, time seemed to be moving too quickly. Their flight home was fast, the drive back to Dan’s apartment passed in a blur.

He offered to take Harry back to his apartment instead, but Harry shook his head. “It would feel weird spending the night alone,” he admitted.

Dan agreed.

It was snowing, and shortly after midnight by the time they made it across Dan’s threshold. The apartment was exactly how they had left it five days previously, the couch still made up for Harry to sleep on.

Dan couldn’t imagine how he had made Harry sleep out there alone the other night.

“Do you mind sharing a bed again?”

Harry looked relieved. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

Dan dropped their suitcases off in the bedroom, and started stropping his clothes while Harry freshened up in the bathroom. He debated sliding into silk pajamas, wondering whether that sent the wrong signal.

He was standing there in nothing but his boxers trying to make up his mind when Harry joined him in the room, also wearing only underwear.

Oh.

“C’mhere,” Dan rushed out, waving Harry over, but moving to close the distance between them himself.

He picked Harry up, feeling those long legs wrap around his waist as he pushed Harry against the wall, kissing him within an inch of his life. He nibbled at Harry's ear, and nosed his way along his long, elegant neck. He was determined to worship every inch he was allowed, to wring pleasure from every pore.

“Daaaan,” Harry whined, trying and failing to buck up against the hips that kept him pinned to the wall.

“I’ve got you,” Dan murmured against his collarbone.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 28TH

It felt like no time at all before the mid-morning sunlight was streaming through the windows. Dan realized belatedly that he had forgotten to close the curtains last night. He hoped the city appreciated the show.

Harry groaned next to him, face in the pillow and half buried under Dan’s arm.

Dan concurred. Time was slipping away from them again. Dan had been starting to think up a plan, but he needed a bit more time to figure out exactly where they needed to go from here.

He checked his watch, blinking in confusion when he remembered he hadn’t changed it back when they landed in New York. “We probably have a couple of hours.”

Harry yawned again. “Not enough time.”

He closed his eyes. “I know.”

___

“Yowza.”

Dan looked up in surprise. Harry was openly staring at him.

“I uh, forgot how well you cleaned up when you weren’t dressed like a hog farmer.”

Dan finished adjusting his cufflinks, and smoothed down the front of his suit. He took an inordinate amount of pride in his appearance. He was a firm believer that the suit made the man- particularly in his case, as he only became Dan Fielding shortly after he bought his first hundred dollar suit.

“It’s how I win cases,” he explained as he preened. “I get the defense to swoon over me.”

Harry smiled at the joke, but quickly dropped it. He wasn't made to look so serious, and Dan longed to kiss the expression off of his face. “You’re a good man, Dan Fielding. And that's why I’m going to plead guilty.”

Dan exploded on him. “Are you insane? Do you want to go to jail? What happened to everything we-” he waved between them, hoping to convey his incoherent thoughts.

Harry shook his head. “That was in Louisiana. People aren’t responsible for what they say in Louisiana. This is New York, this is today, and this is different.”

Dan crossed his arms. “How is it any different here?”

"Can’t you think of the papers? Assistant District Attorney Seen with Known Convict. With your luck, you’d lose your next city council election to two dead candidates.” Harry got up off the couch and took his hand. “I won’t have you throwing away your career because you feel sorry for me.”

The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place for Dan. For the first time since Saturday, he finally saw a light at the end of the tunnel.

“I won’t,” he said.

___

Dan had stormed angrily into his boss’ office exactly twice before- once, on Vincent Daniels’ first day, wondering if this was a joke.

It was not Dan’s finest moment.

The second time was a little over a year ago, when Dan had been pulled from a case. He’d been belligerent at the time, but now, as he strode purposefully into the office on the 17th floor, he honestly couldn’t remember any details about it. Arson, maybe, or a robbery. Either way, it didn’t matter much now. Most things didn’t.

Daniels was sitting behind his desk, in his usual brown three piece suit. His desk was more cluttered than usual- everyone was returning from the break to a backlog of cases. Even at the night court level, the weekend and holiday replacements weren’t as good as the Monday-Friday team. Dan took an inordinate amount of pride in that.

“Sir, I need to recuse myself from the Stone case.”

“Stone, Stone,” Daniels muttered to himself as he sorted through the files on his desk.

“Petty gambling, third offense. I cannot in good conscience recommend incarceration. I advise we take a plea deal.”

Daniels gave him a cruel smile. “Fielding, you’re not in any place to advise if you’re recusing yourself.”

“I know, sir.”

“What happened to you, Fielding?” Daniels looked at him curiously. “You’re not being your usual obnoxious self today.”

“Do you believe in the spirit of Christmas?”

“Spirits?” Daniels snorted. “Are you saying you’re drunk?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Drunk on life sounded like one of those trite positivity slogans Christine was always throwing around, but Dan struggled to find another way to describe the intoxicating feeling Harry had unlocked in him over the week.

What wasn’t hard to describe was the disgusted look on Daniels' face. “Take the rest of the week off to sober up. You were technically performing duties of the court the last five days, so I won’t count it against your vacation time. But I want you here on Monday with a clear head, or else your ass is gone. Am I clear?”

“Perfectly, sir, thank you.”

___

Christine was in the cafeteria, showing a very uninterested looking Roz some polaroids of her Christmas. “And here’s Bill and I sharing some eggnog.”

“Another eggnog candid. Wow, you two really know how to live it up,” Roz deadpanned.

“I know! We almost stayed up til eleven! On Christmas Eve!”

Roz mock gasped. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Santa,” she said with a wink.

Dan dropped in next to them, no time for pleasantries. “Christine, I need you to work a plea deal for Harry. He’s going to plead guilty. You should knock it down to $50 and time served, plus probation.”

“Harry?”

“Harry Stone. Petty larceny. The guy I took home with me this week.”

Christine clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh gosh Dan, I completely forgot about him. Hang on, let me see where he is on the docket tonight.”

While she rustled through her papers, Roz stared at him. “Dan, you never offer plea deals when you can avoid it, and never when we’re not on the clock. Who is this guy?”

“A con artist Dan had to watch all week. He said he was going to take him back home to Louisiana to visit his folks,” Bull helpfully explained, joining them at the table with a lunch tray filled exclusively with figgy pudding.

“I got to know him,” Dan said, fidgeting with his cufflink. “He’s a good guy. And a three time offender. But he doesn’t belong in jail.”

“And where is he now?”

“Jail!” Bull beamed. “Dan dropped him off a little while ago. He’s so fun, he’s already made half the guys in holding crack up.”

“Crack is why half the guys in holding are in there,” Roz pointed out.

“Exactly. Harry doesn’t belong in there, but he could do a lot of good for people who do. Did you know he went to law school?” Dan nudged Christine with his elbow. “Do you think he could fit in with Legal Aid?”

Christine dropped her papers. “He has a JD? We’re talking about the same guy right? Harry Stone, the guy who pulled my pen out of his ear when I met with him pre-trial last week?”

"That’s not the only place he can pull it out of,” Dan said without thinking, ignoring the way he could feel the blush creep across his face. “Look, I know he’s an eccentric, but he’s a good guy. Tell me he wouldn’t be perfect for working with juvenile cases!”

“Why’re you trying to get him a job so badly?” Bull asked between bites. “Does he owe you money?”

“Worse than that,” Dan said solemnly. “I think I owe him my life.”

___

Roz had said she wanted to see him in the hallway, and she wasn’t asking. He slumped into the shoeshine chair, crossing his delicate ankles, and feeling like he was about to be in trouble.

“Dan, what the hell is going on? First Bull says you babysat a bunco artist for a week, now you’re trying to be charitable.” She looked into his eyes questioningly. “Did he hypnotize you? Do you think you’re a chicken right now? Because the last thing we need is you acting like an even bigger co-”

“I’m fine!” He waved her off with a gesture about as subtle as an umpire calling safe. “Look, you of all people know how much I didn’t want to see my family this Christmas. I don’t know what happened. Harry made it bearable. He made all of it bearable.”

She crossed her arms. “What’s so special about this guy anyway?”

"He understands me. He saw me at my worst and he didn't hate me for it.”

Roz huffed. “We’ve all seen you at your worst, Dan.”

He shook his head. “My real worst. The one I hide even from you.”

“Dear god. He really is special.” She hit him on the arm. “What are you doing sitting around? Don’t let him get away.”

___

Billie looked her usual indignant self when he dropped into her office. “Dan, what’s going on? First Mac says he’s snowed in up in the Poconos and he won’t be back until they dig him out, and now I get word that they’re sending a sub to cover you for a few days.” She sighed. “At this rate, New Year’s Eve is just going to be me and Bull and his homemade noisemakers.”

With everything going on, Dan had nearly forgotten about Billie’s annual New Year’s Eve party. It was one of the few work-related events he actually enjoyed every year. The food was always good, the company was bearable, and he usually got to bring or leave with someone from Steno or Legal Aid. Or both.

“If Harry stays out, we’ll both be there.” Dan looked hopeful. “I’m still allowed a plus-one, right?”

“Always, Dan. Wait, why would you bring Harry?” She walked over to her green couch and motioned for Dan to join her. “Come on Fielding, tell me what happened this week.”

He flung himself down, his head hitting the back of the couch with a muffled thud. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

___

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 31ST

“Dan, you made it!” Billie flung her door wide open to let him in, her smile bright enough to make the ball in Times’ Square look pale in comparison.

Over on the couch, Mac and Quon Le waved hello, smiling but both looking tired after their long week. Next to them, Christine smiled too, but her face fell slightly when she saw Dan alone.

Dan shuffled quickly into the apartment, trying to make space for Harry to come in behind him.

“Hiya gang!” Harry waved.

Christine breathed a sigh of relief. “Hi Harry. That’s Harry Stone,” she added, turning to Mac and Quon Le. “He starts his new job on Tuesday. Dan and I helped set him up with Children’s Aid.”

Mac furrowed his brow slightly. “He looks familiar. He’s not-” His eyes widened in surprise. “He’s not the same Harry Stone that Dan had to-”

“He is,” Billie confirmed, voice slightly muffled as she was busy hanging up Dan and Harry’s coats.

In the kitchen, Roz gave a toothy, predatory smile as she poured two more glasses of champagne for the newcomers. “Harry is one of us now, and anyone who has a problem with that will have to answer to me.”

Dan took the offered glasses and passed one to Harry. “I don’t think it’s going to be that drastic.” He dropped his voice so only Roz could hear. “Thank you.”

“A toast,” Harry announced. “To new friends.”

“To new friends!” the room echoed.

“Now come join us. Mac was just telling us about how they got snowed in on Christmas Day.”

“Imagine something crazy like that happening over the holidays,” Dan deadpanned.

“Shh,” Harry whispered, nudging Dan in the ribs.

Across the room, Billie laughed. “Oh, you’re going to fit in well here. Do you know any other ways to get Dan to shut up?”

Dan yelped, and slapped a hand across Harry’s mouth before he could say a word.

Outside on the balcony, Bull set off something that sounded suspiciously like fireworks.