Disclaimer: They don't, of course, belong to me. They are the property of Alliance. I'm just borrowing them for a bit. I'll put 'em back. Really.

Author's Notes: Happy Holidays 2001

Story Notes: Always watch out for that spiked eggnog.

"You're kidding me."

"No, I assure you I am not."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Not even once?"

"No, Ray, not even one time."

"But . . ." He stopped, seeing the look on the Mountie's face. Man, he really never had.

Ray went back to focusing on the road. Just because he knew how to drive in the snow didn't mean these other yahoos on the road did. "Fraze, buddy, I don't think that's normal."

"Well, strictly speaking, normalcy is, of course, subjective. As a matter of fact, if you look at the matter in terms of the psyche -"

"Thought I told you to leave the psych textbooks at home, Fraser."

"I must not have gotten that memo, Ray."

That surprised a laugh out of Kowalski. Fraser's smart ass potential was growing by leaps and bounds. "Yeah, well, you were probably filling out too many of those oblique stroke forms you guys grow over there in the consulate. Seriously, Fraser, you never, not even once, looked for your Christmas presents?"

"No, I never looked, hunted, peeked, disturbed, unwrapped, or otherwise tried to root out what I would be receiving." Fraser paused, thinking back. "Of course, I always knew I would get some sort of book or a new jacket or pair of long johns, but I never peeked. That would have made Christmas morning very anti-climactic."

"Yeah, well-" Ray sputtered to a stop. As usual, Fraser had a point and stated it in a way that was hard to refute. "Yeah, you're right; it did basically ruin the surprise, but, see, that was kinda balanced out by the chance of finding something that was your brother's and then refusing to tell him what it was."

"Ah, I see. So this was a multifaceted activity."

"Totally. And not all those facets were good. Like, I had this one friend, Johnny DePalma, who was digging through the back of his mom's closet and he found some pictures of his mom and dad that he didn't soon forget." Ray shuddered at the memory. "Johnny never went present mining again. Hell, after that I never went near the parent's closet. There's just some things you don't wanna know."

They both pondered the wisdom of that statement as they pulled up in front of the consulate.

"Sure you don't need any help?"

"No, thank you, Ray. There are only a few. Most of them are already, ah, with us."

Neither man needed to turn their heads to know that the backseat (and trunk, though it was, of course, harder to see at the moment) was overflowing with toys of all shapes and sizes, and included everything from baby rattles to basketballs to models of Hogwarts.

Of course, the fact that neither of them wanted to turn around and look at the mountain and canyons of toys - or even mention the issue out loud - may also have had something to do with the fact that in the midst off all the colorful boxes and containers a very small wolf-space was rapidly being encroached upon, which made the occupant of said wolf-space, well, disgruntled.

It wasn't that Dief didn't support the idea of collecting presents for kids in theory.

It was the practice he was finding discombobulating.

After all, how many times did one need to have six "Fluffies" from Harry Potter fall on one's head before one knew one did not want it to happen again?

So, in this case, both men decided prudence was the better part of valor and didn't look at the horde they both felt justifiably pleased at having collected.

"I'll just be a moment."

The man in the front seat and the wolf somewhere in the back both watched Fraser walk briskly up the steps, neatly avoid the slick ice on the third step, and slip inside the building.

A slight grumble from the back seat made Ray risk it. Glancing into the rearview mirror, he met the wolf's eyes.

"Yeah, I know you're hungry, Furface. He's just gotta grab the last of the presents everyone collected for the kids. Then, as soon as he's done playing Mountie Claus at the shelter, we're headed for the Noodle Palace for Chinese."

They both amused themselves for a moment with thoughts of Mongolian beef and pan fried noodles before Ray spoke again.

"So, I sent in that subscription thingy in for you. He oughta get the first issue of "Ice and Stones" in four to six weeks." A happy sniffy-snort kind of sound drifted forward. A moment later, Ray banged his head a few times on the wheel. "What is up with my life? Not only am I Christmas shopping for a wolf, but I know the name of a curling magazine. The Canadian tide is taking over my life!"

This time, the quite noises sounded closer to a laugh than Ray wanted to admit.

"'Laugh it up, fuzzball.'"

"'Fuzzball,' Ray?" Fraser bent into the car. "I've never thought of Diefenbaker as fuzzy. Hairy, yes, but not necessarily fuzzy."

"It's a line out of a movie, Fraze, don't worry about it."

"Ah."

Reaching across the seat, Ray helped Fraser stack the last of the presents on the bench seat between them.

"We good to go then?"

"Certainly, Ray."

"So, you're still coming over tomorrow right? Mom left me enough for about 6 Christmas Eves."

"Yes, Diefenbaker and I are both looking forward to it, Ray."

"Should be good. Mom took care of the whole food angle, and I've got the cartoon "Grinch," "Miracle on 34th Street," - uncolorized, of course - and "A Charlie Brown Christmas." That should take care of entertainment, and then we'll get up Christmas morning and head back over to the shelter and play elves."

"It sounds like a delightful plan. I always enjoy Linus' retelling of the Christmas story."

"Greatness."

Ray tooled the GTO around a corner smoothly, but the turn proved a bit too much for the stack of presents on Dief's left and the stack cascaded down in a series of quiet thuds.

After Fraser had reached back and freed Dief from the worst of it - and been pointedly and fiercely ignored - Ray skewed a glance over at the Mountie.

"Looks like he was a victim of an over the top presentation."

The slight bend in his mouth was Fraser's only outward reaction to the pun until he spoke a moment later. "I believe I will bow out of this conversation."

"Yeah, I think we've got it all wrapped up on this end."

Dief's pained sniff wasn't quiet sufficient to drown out Ray's muffled chuckles or Fraser's coughs as the car continued on its way.

End Merry Gentlemen by Debbie Hann: debhann@aol.com

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