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Christmas was a time for family, to be around your loved ones and to celebrate all that is merry and wonderful with good food and warm atmospheres.
But for Emily Prentiss, Christmas, and the festive season as a whole, was never what it was supposed to be. From an early age, she never cared for Christmas or the month of December. She didn’t look forward to the presents under the grand Christmas tree in the living room of her family home. She didn’t want to eat much of the food or take part in the various activities that happened in December. Carol singing didn’t interest her, she never decorated her own Christmas tree because her mother hired professionals to do it. She never wrapped Christmas presents or took part in the age-old tradition of waiting for Santa Claus. Instead, Emily was happier curled up on the sofa with a good book and a cup of tea, ignoring everything festive around her.
Until suddenly you walked into her life, and Christmas was turned upon its head.
When you found out that your new girlfriend was not into Christmas, you nearly couldn’t believe your ears. How could she not love the pretty lights? The sweet carol singing? The Christmas films? None of it made sense to you, and as someone who had grown up in a family that loved the holiday, and the whole month of December, you decided it was your job to make her enjoy this Christmas. Not just because she’d never enjoyed one before, but because it was the first one she’d be sharing with you.
And suddenly she was being dragged out of her warm and cozy apartment to pick up a Christmas tree, and all the decorations she needed, before heading home with two massive takeaway cups of hot chocolate and a couple of boxes of pizza.
Emily was reluctant at first, grumbling as you tried to figure out where the Christmas tree best fit in her living room, but soon, while you were stringing the lights around the branches, she was suddenly taking in how happy you looked, all rugged up in an old festive sweater and a pair of your comfiest jeans.
As soon as you finished decorating her apartment and the tree, you were pulling her onto the couch for a marathon of Christmas movies, starting with Home Alone. Snuggled up against her and sharing pizza straight out of the box, you were so content, eyes focused on the movie, even when you could feel Emily watching you, a certain kind of awe covering her features. It wasn’t until later when you’d finished Christmas with the Kranks, and were turning off the television and getting ready for bed when Emily finally decided to ask the question that had been burning in the back of her mind.
“Why are you doing all this?” The question caught you by surprise, so out of the blue that you looked up at her with wide eyes and took a good moment to answer. Fiddling with the material of the blanket on the bed, you shrugged your shoulders slightly and looked away from her piercing gaze.
“Because...you deserve to enjoy Christmas and December. I know moving around a lot as a child was hard, and I know you didn’t really have set traditions in your family for the holidays, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have the chance to enjoy it. Everyone deserves at least one good Christmas.” Your answer made Emily fault, thinking back to those cold Decembers where she stayed in her room to escape the foreign dignitaries that her mother entertained, and she knew you were right.
“I guess, with my mum’s work, the holiday’s didn’t really feel important or special unless she was hosting a dinner party or cocktail event for the country’s government officials.” You nodded back to her, watching as the woman deflated slightly as she thought more about her childhood. “That’s not to say I don’t have good memories about December, I mean, my nanny used to make these really delicious shortbread cookies that I could have for afternoon tea, and in Italy, Matthew and I would sneak out with bottles of eggnog and make snowmen at the local park.” Emily chuckled at the thought, remembering her old friend and the antics she used to do as a teen.
“See? Christmas isn’t all bad, babe. Sure, not everything is great, but sometimes we just need to put some effort in. So, how about we make an agreement, if you try this year to enjoy, make cookies with me and go caroling one night, and do some other festive things, and by the end of Christmas Day, you decide that you don’t enjoy Christmas, then next year I won’t make a big deal about it.” Emily ponders your proposal for a couple minutes as the two of you get changed and into bed, and by the time she’s laying her head against her pillow and turning towards you, she has a soft smile gracing her face.
“Okay, deal. Let’s find out if I’m a total grinch or not.” You chuckled at that, and kissed her goodnight before turning to switch off the light.
The next day, she was awake before you were, which definitely was not normal for a weekend, especially when she had no reports due or case files to read. You slowly made your way out of bed, wondering where your girlfriend was, and to your surprise, she was curled up on the couch, with Sergio on her lap as she peered up at the lit Christmas tree.
“Well someone’s awake early, what’s the occasion, my love?” You lean down to press a kiss to the side of Emily’s face, and give Sergio a scratch behind his ears, and Emily smiles at you.
“Sergio decided to have a tantrum until he was fed. I couldn’t go back to sleep.” She waved you over to the couch, motioning to the cup of hot chocolate she had already poured for you. “I was thinking about our deal earlier, and I…” her voice drifted off, and suddenly Emily was unsure of herself, or more so, unsure of what she was about to ask. You nudged her with your knee as you leaned against her, pulling the blanket over your lower halves.
“What do you want to do? Come on Em, you can tell me.” You wrapped your arms around her, and she melted into your embrace, Sergio carefully cradled between you.
“Can we make the shortbread cookies I used to have as a kid? I...I found the recipe in an old cook book I have, and when I was a kid, December wasn’t really December until Ruth made her special cookies.” By the time she finished speaking, her gaze was back on the Christmas tree, and you just grinned, bright and joyful as you nodded.
“Yes, yes of course we can make Ruth’s cookies, Emily. And I could teach you how to make my aunt’s Christmas pudding?” Emily nodded back at you, a shy grin appearing on her face as soon as you jumped up from the couch, the blanket falling to the ground and Sergio meowing in complaint. “Okay well, then we need to go to the grocery store and get the ingredients and I need to find the old recipe book I have and-.”
“Woah, sweetheart, calm down, we’ve got the rest of the day to do that. How about we first get dressed and have some breakfast together? I already made some french toast and bacon, it’s keeping warm in the oven.” Emily let out a sudden huff then as you landed on top of her, kissing her face all over as the woman laughed, trying to create some distance between the two of you. “Oh, Y/N, hang on, I-.” You cut her off with a strong kiss, and she was wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you closer until the both of you had to take a breath.
“Breakfast, showers, then baking?” You pulled her off the couch, and after exchanging a couple more kisses and moving Sergio to his bed near the electric fireplace, the two of you started getting ready for the day ahead.
A couple hours later, the kitchen looked like a bomb of flour had exploded on the counter tops, and Emily had some cookie dough plastered on her cheeks and you had hands covered in sticky caramel. Emily was busy rolling out the dough and cutting out circles and stars and crescent moon shapes that she found in the back of her cupboard, and with Christmas carols playing in the background and the both of you having to constantly shoo away Sergio as he tried to steal batter from the bowls, the two of you were in your own little domestic paradise.
“You know, I haven’t had these since I was 17. Mum didn’t have any intention of cooking or baking at home, and once I left for college, I didn’t come home anymore for the holidays.” She paused for a moment, watching as you wiped your sticky hands over the sink. “Ruth left just before I went to college. Mum thought that since I was no longer a child and getting into trouble, Ruth didn’t have a place in our household anymore. But, uh, Ruth made these cookies when she told me she had to leave the next week. God, I was so angry at my mum, Ruth had worked for her for nearly 18 years and suddenly she’s casting her out like she wasn’t part of the family.” She stopped, and huffed loudly as she cut out more shapes.
“Do you still keep in contact with Ruth?” You asked the question quietly, not wanting to upset your girlfriend or disturb the joyous feeling in the kitchen. Emily smiled softly, glancing at you before she turned back to her cookies, loading them onto a baking tray and putting them in the oven, checking the temperature before replying.
“Yeah, she gave me her address before she left, and I used to send her letters during college, and she’d always send me a small gift in the mail on my birthday. We haven’t caught up recently though. I didn’t speak to her for a while because of Doyle and the BAU, but her daughter got in contact with me a couple of months ago and told me she’s in a nursing home now.” You came up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your forehead against her back, and she leaned back towards you, hands clasped over yours. “She’s fine, just getting old. Her daughter didn’t want her living alone anymore, but with two kids of her own, she had no room.”
“You know, if you know the name of the nursing home, you could always send her a Christmas card, maybe even a box of some of the cookies we made. I can tell Ruth meant a lot to you.” Emily nodded, and patted your hand gently so you’d let go and led you to the couch, timer on for the cookies.
“I know, I just haven’t worked up the guts to do it, I guess.” She stops talking, and you can tell she doesn’t want to talk about Ruth anymore, and that’s fine with you. You know Emily needs time to think. So instead, you turn the television on, and load up the DVD player to figure out what movie to watch next. Emily picks Home Alone 2, and jokingly tells you how the family in the movie would be the perfect victims for a serial killer, until you gently hit her with a pillow and she breaks out into laughter.
The cookies are a hit, coming out perfectly cooked, and because Emily is the impatient person she is, she burns her mouth eating the first one. But she makes a noise of delight once her mouth cools down, and all she can do is grin and urge you to try one. They’re good, really good. They’re buttery and crumbling just like shortbread should, and there’s the perfect balance of sugar to vanilla that no bite tastes too sweet.
And an hour later, Emily is writing a letter to Ruth, with a small box of cookies to go with it, set near the door for her to drop off before work the next morning.
“I think you’re right.” Emily has you in her arms in bed, sharing a pillow and legs tangled together.
“Oh yeah? Right about what?” Your mouth quirks up a small smile, and she presses kisses to the curve of your neck, lips hovering over your cheek as she speaks.
“I think you’re right, I think this is going to be the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Because you’re here, and we had those perfect shortbread cookies.” Your smile widens, and you turn in her arms to face her.
“Mm, I think I agree, but I think the cookies need a new name. I like Ruth’s Christmas cookies.” Emily can’t help but let out a content hum as you pull her in for a kiss, hand running through her hair and lips meeting her in a soft and sweet embrace.
“Ruth’s Christmas cookies. I like that. Thank you sweetheart.” Resting your head against her chest, you didn’t miss her small and soft “I love you” as you were drifting off to sleep.
“Good night, Emily, I love you, happy holidays.”