Author's Note: Merry Christmas, everyone! I've missed Ana and Jason terribly, so I decided to write a Christmas Special. Enjoy!

ANA

"Are you sure about this?" Ana whispered as she held the door open for her companion.

"No," Emory replied. She was wearing her bloody scrubs again, and one of Ana's big, old coats, and her dark hair was a wild, tangled mess. "But it has to be done."

Ana sighed. They'd gone back and forth about this for days; arguing about it in front of the Sherriff's office would do them no good. Emory was almost as stubborn as Jason. And that was saying something.

She followed Emory into the old, quiet building. The walls were lined with wood paneling, and the carpet, which had once been an undoubtedly heinous shade of orange, had faded to a nice, sickly gray. An older woman with short, gray hair sat the desk in the center of the small lobby, completely engrossed in what appeared to be a Harlequin romance novel.

Ana moved up beside Emory, wrapping one arm around her friend's shoulders in support, and walked with her up to the desk.

"Excuse me, ma'am," she said quietly.

The woman jumped, one wrinkled hand flew to her chest, and her wide eyes flew up to take in the scene before her.

"Goodness gracious!" she said, standing so quickly her chair toppled behind her. "Are you girls alright?"

"I'm fine," Ana said, "but I'm not so sure about Dr. Brighton, here."

The woman glanced between the two of them, and her eyes got even wider.

"Brighton," she said faintly, "Emory Brighton? The woman who got kidnapped by that…?" Her hands fluttered. "Oh, dear." She turned and projected her voice down the hallway. "Sheriff? Sheriff! Come quick!"

Heavy footsteps pounded across old, squeaky floorboards. Sheriff Price rounded the corner with his gun drawn, and Ana cursed, ducking down behind the reception desk and pulling Emory along with her.

"Steven, put that away!" the old woman yelped.

"Is he nuts?" Emory whispered.

"Hush, you're supposed to be catatonic," Ana whispered back.

"What's going on, Eleanor?" Price demanded.

Ana lifted her head to peek over the desk. He'd put his weapon away, and his arms were crossed over his chest. Ana sighed and gently pulled Emory back to a standing position.

"Happy Holidays, Sheriff," Ana said with deliberate calmness. "Sorry to interrupt your evening."

Price, like Eleanor, stared at the two women with wide, round eyes for a long moment, before it finally hit him.

"Jesus Christ," he said. "Where did you find her?"

"Actually, she found me," Ana said. "She was sitting on my front porch last night." They had decided that it would be best to stick to the truth as much as possible. Especially since Ana was such a terrible liar.

"She… you know her?" Price demanded incredulously.

Ana narrowed her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was low and quiet.

"She was the only one I could talk to, after you found me in the mine."

Price went pale, and Ana felt a small pang of guilt at the haunted look in his eyes. Price had actually been quite helpful, back when Ana had started the process of turning Crystal Lake and the surrounded land into a National Forest, and that had been an unexpected and pleasant surprise; he could have made things very difficult, had he chosen to do so. And, though he usually went out of his way to avoid Ana, any time they came into contact with each other, he was always very polite.

"Of course," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "But… Ah, pardon me for asking, Ms. Mitchell, but why didn't you take her to the hospital?"

On cue, Emory recoiled with a trembling gasp. Ana caught her before she could flee, and held her, soothing her quietly for a moment, before lifting her eyes to meet Price's gaze.

"Yeah, I tried," Ana said simply. "She wouldn't step foot inside. And… I'm sorry, Sheriff, but you'll have to forgive me if I side with her on that front. Besides, she appears to be unhurt. She's just… I'm not sure what the correct term is. Comatose?"

"Catatonic," Price corrected her, his lips thin. After a long moment, he nodded. "Okay, well… let me make some calls." He hesitated. "She'll have to be cleared by someone, Ms. Mitchel. Maybe I can call the hos… maybe I can have one of the doctors swing by to check her out?"

Ana nodded, releasing her grip on Emory so that she could look her in the eye.

"Is that okay, Emory?" she asked in a deliberately loud voice. "Can a doctor come here to see you?"

Emory blinked at her. Then she nodded once, very slowly.

"Okay." Ana took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. She wasn't looking forward to the next few days, to the police, the interviews, and the media circus.

But Emory needed to get her life back. She had worked so hard to get to where she was. She needed to go back to her practice. She needed to see her brother. She could fake catatonia better than anyone else, and she could fake a slow recovery just as easily. And, above all, Emory was Ana's friend. And Ana would do whatever she could to help. "Okay, let's do this."

JASON

The house was too quiet. He didn't like it. It made him feel… cold.

Funny, that. There had been a time in Jason's life when he desired nothing but silence.

Now, it grated on him. Too empty. He wanted to hear Ana's voice. He wanted to bask in her warmth, he wanted to bury his face in her hair, he wanted to hold her and love her and make her laugh.

And she'd only been gone for two days.

At least he'd gotten to talk to her last night. She had called to let him know that a detective from Haddonfield had come into town and set up shop. She was staying in a nearby motel with Emory until the investigation was finished, which would take at least a week. During that time, the plan was to have Emory slowly recover from her catatonia so that she could make her statement and get her life back.

A week. Five more days.

Jason sighed and set another log on the old tree stump before him. He raised his axe and swung it downwards with all his strength. The log split down to its middle, parting around the blade. He wrenched the axe free and swung again. A clean split. Both halves of the log tumbled off the side of the stump and into a haphazard pile of other split logs.

Jason frowned, glancing around the empty clearing. Michael had been helping him for most of the morning, transporting the firewood back to the house and bringing Jason fresh logs to split. Michael didn't take orders well, but then, Jason didn't, either, so he couldn't really blame him. It had taken them a few weeks to get used to each other, but eventually they had settled into a routine of mutual, silent cooperation.

So where was the stubborn bastard?

He heard him before he saw him; though he was masterfully adept at moving through urban environments without being detected, Michael had yet to master the ability to move through a forest without making a sound. Still, he was improving. Jason only heard him because he was listening for him. That, and also because it sounded like he was dragging something very large with him.

Jason turned and found Michael standing at the edge of the clearing. And the large object he was dragging?

A tree.

A huge, bushy, dark green Frasier fir. Almost as big around as Michael was tall, it would be at least fifteen feet high when upright.

Jason tilted his head. Michael glanced in the direction of the house and nodded.

Really? He wanted to put that colossal thing inside the house? And where would they get the hundreds of ornaments and thousands of lights they would need to decorate it?

Michael grinned.

Oh. Right.

Masterfully adept at moving through urban environments without being detected.

Fine, that worked for him. And maybe, while Michael was out pillaging the town for Christmas decorations, he could check on Ana and Emory and make sure they were okay?

Michael nodded.

Jason nodded back. He buried his axe into the stump and moved forward, taking hold of the Frasier fir by its lower branches. Michael turned and disappeared in the direction of town.

The tree was heavier than it looked, not that Jason would ever admit that to anyone. He made his way slowly back towards the house, and wondered how much longer it would be before he had Ana back in his arms again.

ANA

The moment Ana shut the motel room door behind her, Emory muted the TV and stood from the rickety little table in the corner of the room.

"Anything good on?" Ana asked as she dropped her bags on one of the double beds.

"Not really," Emory replied. "Local news is bored with me already; now they're talking about how someone stole a bunch of Christmas decorations from Walmart." She glanced down at the bags, and a grin curled her lips. "So were you able to find his size?" she asked, not bothering to hide her excitement.

Ana grinned. "Yep."

"And the jacket? I know he loved the one Jason loaned him. Oh! And the hunting knife?"

"Yes, yes, and yes," Ana said with a laugh. "The biggest hunting knife I could find."

"Bigger than Jason's?" Emory teased, crossing her legs beneath her as she sat on the bed and started rummaging through the bags.

Ana snorted. "Like they need something else to compete about. Same size. Jason's machete is still a sore point, though. You might want to think about getting one for Mikey."

Emory sighed. "Yeah, maybe. I just don't want him carrying the damn thing around all the time. No offense."

"None taken," Ana said with a shrug. "Jason's machete is a part of him, same as the mask."

Emory was quiet for a long moment, inspecting the sturdy outdoor shoes Ana had bought at the local sporting goods store.

"So, about the mask…" she said cautiously.

Ana smiled. Emory and Michael had been with them for three weeks before they started down the path to getting Emory her life back, and during that time, they had been perfect guests, always helping out and doing what they could, apologizing that they couldn't do more. Emory hadn't once brought up the subject of Jason's face, just as Ana had not mentioned anything about Michael's muteness.

"Severe cleft and gum palate," Ana said.

"Have… have you seen it?"

"Yes. Not often, though. Every now and then, he'll take off his mask to sleep." Ana shrugged. "But, like I said, it's a part of him."

Emory unfolded the brown hunting jacket and smoothed her palms over the fabric.

"You know," she said hesitantly, "there are medical procedures that could… well, I don't want to say 'fix him,' because he's not at all broken, but..."

"I know what you mean," Ana said with a smile. "It's okay. I love him the way he is. I always will."

Emory looked up from the jacket and smiled.

"You're a good person, Ana," she said softly. "And you're a really good friend."

"At the moment, I'm kind of your only friend," Ana teased.

Emory rolled her eyes and chucked a pair of socks at Ana's head. Ana caught them with a laugh. She fiddled with the tag for a moment, and then frowned a bit when a shadow flitted through her mind.

"I hope you won't be away for too long," she said, scratching at the price tag sticker on the socks. "I'm going to miss you."

She looked back up and found Emory smiling brilliantly.

"I'll be back before you know it," Emory promised. "The local hospital needs psychologists, and even if they don't, I can always start my own practice. And Damien is already close by, so I won't have to fight to have him transferred. Haddonfield was never meant to be a long-term thing, anyway, I just wanted to meet Michael." She shrugged. "It shouldn't take me more than a couple of months to get everything in order, and then we'll be back."

Ana's heart clenched in her chest, a mixture of relief and sadness; as much as Ana loved Jason, she was going to miss having Emory around to talk to.

Funny, that. She had once been the kind of person who kept her friends at arms' length, and never let anyone get too close.

Now, she didn't want Emory to leave.

"Awesome," Ana said. "But you're still coming back to the house after they finish the investigation, right? I want to give you guys your Christmas presents before you leave."

Emory grinned. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

JASON

If he never, ever saw another string of Christmas lights again, Jason would die a happy man.

ANA

By the time Detective Ross and his team finished their investigation, Emory had already begun her slow, methodical recovery. She still wasn't talking much, but she no longer had that vacant, haunted look in her eyes.

Ana remained her dutiful companion and volunteer caretaker, and stood next to her on the sidewalk outside the Sheriff's office, watching as the detective and his officers drove off in the direction of the airport.

"That was easier than I thought it would be," she said, hooking her arm through Emory's and leading her towards the parking lot, where Ana's jeep waited patiently beneath a thin layer of snow.

She missed the Mustang, but sports cars were just not meant for mountain winters. Her baby would have to remain safe and sound in the garage until springtime.

"I can't believe she didn't rat me out," Emory murmured as she climbed up into the passenger's seat. Ana took a moment to scrape off the dusting of snow that had accumulated during the meeting, and then she hopped up into the driver's seat and started the car. "I mean… she didn't mention my involvement at all."

"That's a good thing, right? Maybe that means she's starting to come to terms with everything."

Emory was quiet for a while, staring out at the buildings and empty streets as they passed through Crystal Lake. The town was quiet, and snow was beginning to come down more heavily, now. Ana hoped the boys weren't out in it; the weatherman was calling for blizzard conditions over the next 48 hours.

"It could mean that," Emory said finally. "Sorry, I just don't… I'm still angry with her about what happened. She has no idea how much she hurt Michael."

"I know, Em," Ana said, her voice gentle. "But Laurie's just a kid. Give her some time."

They passed through the entrance to the National Forest, and the trees rose up around them, thick green pines and skeletal gray oaks. It felt to Ana almost like they were reaching out to embrace them, welcoming them home.

Ana turned down the long, winding drive to her house. The snow fell in thick, fat clumps, blanketing the dirt road and turning it to slush as they passed. The Wrangler didn't even flinch.

They rounded the last bend and both women gasped as the house came into view.

"Holy shit," Emory said. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"I… I think so," Ana replied. "Is that… I don't… where did they get all those lights?!"

The entire house was absolutely inundated in Christmas lights. Icicle lights hung across the entire roofline. Lit garlands spiraled around the bannisters on the front porch, and a big, glittering wreath hung on the front door. It looked like a Christmas bomb had exploded over the house.

It was…

Freaking.

Glorious.

As one, Ana and Emory leapt out of the jeep and ran towards the house, stopping to stare, openmouthed, at the festival of lights.

"Holy shit," Emory repeated.

"This is the best thing ever," Ana whispered.

She felt him before she saw him, another part of her, moving outside her body. She turned, and found Jason standing behind her, his blue eyes glinting with amusement.

Ana leapt into his arms, wrapping herself around him and burying her face in his neck, breathing in the warm, clean smell of his skin, soaking up his warmth. He held her tighter than usual, squeezing her hard against him as he drew in a deep breath and let it out in a quiet, relieved sigh.

"You did this for me?" Ana whispered, leaning back to look up at him.

Jason nodded, and then he reached up and brushed her bottom lip with his thumb.

"I love you, too," she said, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his mask.

Nearby, Ana heard Emory laugh quietly.

"You sweet, clever bastard," Emory said, her voice low and full of warmth.

Ana turned and found Michael grinning down at Emory. Jason's arms tightened around Ana, and she smiled.

"Now all we need is a Christmas tree!" she said excitedly. "Maybe we can go pick one out tomorrow?"

Jason and Michael exchanged a look, and then, as one, they each picked up their respective mates and started towards the house – well, Michael swept Emory romantically into his arms, while Jason wrapped one big, strong arm beneath Ana's butt and tossed her unceremoniously over his shoulder.

Ana giggled, wrapping her arms around his waist. Sure, it was nice when he picked her up like a damsel in distress, but she would always have a soft spot in her heart for being carried like a sack of potatoes.

Jason set her gently on her feet, just inside the front door, and took her hand, leading her into the living room.

The tree sat in the corner of the room, towering over them, glowing and twinkling with thousands of Christmas lights. It was utterly, wonderfully magnificent.

Beside her, Emory gasped.

"It's amazing," she whispered.

Ana just nodded her agreement.

Jason nudged her with his elbow and handed her their notebook.

Merry Christmas, Dasvidanya.

Ana turned and slid her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest.

"Merry Christmas, Jason."