Author's Note: For anyone who's already read this story, know that no changes have been made barring some grammatical corrections. The only major change that has been made is separating this into chapters. For any new readers, enjoy!

— § —

Chapter 1: A Noble Sacrifice

"I just wish I knew why they couldn't schedule this meeting until after Christmas," Marlene said with a heavy heart as she and Skipper walked through the airport.

"Don't worry, Marlene. I'll be back for Christmas. This whole thing was situational. It isn't something that can wait," Skipper replied.

Marlene hugged herself. "I hope so. Christmas wouldn't be the same without you guys," she said.

Skipper smiled and came to a stop, sitting his suitcase on the ground next to him. "Come here," he said, taking her by the waist. He looked into her chocolate-brown eyes. "I promise you that I'll do whatever it takes to be home for Christmas. Now, have I ever broken any of my promises?"

Marlene sighed. "No," she said submissively. "I'm just worried. Christmas is only four days away."

Skipper nudged her. "Well, don't be. All right?" he said assuringly. Marlene smiled insecurely and nodded. Skipper pulled her closer. "That's my girl. I'll call you when I get to Seattle," he told her.

"And not a minute later," Marlene said with a grin.

Skipper grinned back and pressed his lips against hers. A few seconds later, someone cleared their throat next to them and they parted.

"Sorry, Skipper," Kowalski said awkwardly, "we need to board."

Skipper looked at Marlene. "I'll see you at Christmas," he said with a smile.

Marlene nodded. "Have a nice flight."

Skipper picked up his bag and joined Kowalski as they, Rico, and Private left to board their flight.

— § —

The next morning, Marlene sat at her kitchen table stirring a cinnamon stick in a cup of hot chocolate, staring at a picture of her and Skipper on their first date. It would absolutely just break her heart if he couldn't get home by Christmas. Of course, she wouldn't blame him. There would just be a hole in her Christmas day if they didn't come back in time.

Her phone rang and she read "Skipper" on the caller ID. "Skipper?" she answered.

"Hey, Marlene. I just wanted to let you know that I've already booked a flight back to Manhattan on the morning of the twenty-third and I should be there sometime in the afternoon," Skipper replied.

Marlene smiled. "That's great. I thought you were in that meeting now?"

"We're taking a ten-minute recess. Thought I'd give a quick call. Everything okay?" he asked.

"If I say no, will you come back now?" Marlene asked with a touch of doubt.

Skipper laughed half-heartedly. "I'm sorry, Marlene. Look, I gotta go. Call you when I can, okay?"

"All right. Bye, Skipper," Marlene said disappointedly.

"Not bye, Marlene. See you later," Skipper replied.

Marlene smiled. "See you later."

The line went dead and she set her phone down with a sigh.

In Seattle, Skipper tucked his phone into his inside breast pocket and looked down in thought. Kowalski came up to him.

"Was lying to her really the best way to go about things, Skipper? What if you can't make it or she finds out?" he asked.

Skipper sighed. "I know. But I couldn't tell her all the flights were cancelled due to inclement weather. I promised her I'd find a way and I will."

"By doing what, hitchhiking down a frozen interstate?" Kowalski asked, crossing his arms.

Skipper narrowed his eyes. "I could use a little support, here."

Kowalski rolled his eyes. "Fine, but later. We've got to get back to the meeting."

— § —

At about seven o'clock the next morning—the morning of the twenty-third—Skipper checked all flights to Manhattan from today until Christmas morning on his laptop. All were still cancelled. Apparently the snow was falling like it was going out of style. How was he supposed to get home? More importantly, how would he tell Marlene if he couldn't make it in time?

"Morning, Skipper," Kowalski said, coming into the small kitchen in a white tee with Bill Nye pajama bottoms, his black hair in a tousled mess. "Flights still cancelled?" he asked, grabbing a coffee cup.

"Yeah," Skipper said with a sigh. He watched as Rico came into the kitchen carrying Private over his shoulder, despite the fact that he was twenty years old. He sat him at the counter and he groggily laid his head down with a moan. "Sleep much, soldier?" he asked with a humorous grin.

Private moaned again.

Skipper chuckled and slid the plate of bacon to him. "Here, eat something. It'll wake you right up."

Private picked his head up like it weighed five tons. "The bed in my room isn't mine," he pouted as he propped his head up on his fist and fiddled with a piece of bacon.

Skipper patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll get us home soon," he assured the little homesick cadet.

"How?" Kowalski said, setting his cup on the counter and stirring cream into it. "With the way the weather's been, it could be next week, maybe even longer before a flight opens up. Even then, that doesn't guarantee that we'll get a flight straight from here to Manhattan."

Rico poured a cup of coffee, squirted cream straight into his mouth, and then drank about half the cup full down with it. Kowalski grimaced at him.

"Not even science can figure you out," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. Rico shrugged and snatched a piece of bacon, holding it in his mouth as he took his coffee and the cream away from the kitchen.

"I do have an idea, but I'm not sure how to make it work," Skipper piped up.

Kowalski spat his coffee back into his cup. "To figure Rico out?" he asked in genuine shock.

Skipper rolled his eyes. "No, to get back to Manhattan by Christmas," he corrected.

Kowalski let out a relieved sigh. "For a second, I thought you'd lost your mind. What's your idea?"

"Well, there are some open flights at Eastern Oregon Regional Airport, just northwest of Pendleton. It's only about a four and half hour drive away, but we don't have our car. It would take a whole day to take transit."

"Why can't we rent a car?" Private suggested.

"Because we'd have to leave it at the airport. Someone would have to bring it back and pay the bill," Skipper said. "Unless we can find someone with nothing better to do to deliver it, which I'd doubt."

"Well, Skipper," Kowalski started, "if that's all you're worried about, I'll drive the car back."

Skipper looked up at him as he gave him a sincere smile.

"No, Kowalski, I couldn't ask you to do that. I'm not going to leave you behind," Skipper insisted, tapping at his keyboard.

Kowalski laughed as if he knew he was going to say that. "Skipper, really. Consider it my Christmas gift to you."

Skipper gave him a look. "You forgot to go shopping again, didn't you?"

Kowalski awkwardly sipped at his coffee and looked at the ceiling. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.

Skipper rolled his eyes. "Nonetheless, I can't just leave you here in Seattle. It's either all of us or none of us," he insisted.

Kowalski thought for a moment. "You know, that guy from the meeting—Max, I believe his name was—he said he'd be willing to do you a favor after you helped him solve that case. Why don't you give him a call and see if he'd be up to it?" he suggested.

Skipper pursed his lips in thought. "I'd hate to drag him all the way to Oregon. It'd be a whole nine-hour drive for him," he said.

"Well, if you explain that you're just trying to get home for Christmas, I'm sure he would love to do it in spirit. Besides, he'd be back before Christmas Eve. Only if you call now, though," Kowalski urged.

Skipper nodded. "All right, you convinced me. I'll go find his number."

He went into his room and dug into the pockets of the suit he'd worn yesterday and pulled out Max Wayne's number and called him on his cell phone.

"Wayne," he answered.

"Hey, Max, it's Skipper. Saw you at the meeting yesterday?" Skipper replied.

"Oh, hey! What's up?"

"Look, remember when you said if I needed anything to call?" he asked.

"Yeah, you had something in mind?" Max asked.

"Yeah . . ." Skipper said slowly. "It's kind of a huge favor, really, and I'd understand if you're not up to it."

"Try me," Max urged.

"Well, I'd really like to be home, in Manhattan, for Christmas, but all the flights are cancelled due to all the snow. The nearest airport with available flights is at the airport near Pendleton, Oregon. The quickest way to get there is by car, but I'd have to rent one, but then someone would have to bring it back to the rental dealership and I can't leave one of my unit behind. I was just wondering if—"

"Say no more, pal. I'll drive the car back for you," Max agreed.

Skipper smiled, almost speechless. "Wow, really? Thank you so much, this really means a lot to me. I promise I'll pay for anything there and back: food, gas, the rent, whatever."

"No problem. But we'd better get going if I'm gonna make it back before it gets too late. That's a long drive," Max said.

"Absolutely," Skipper agreed, "where do you live?"

"Seattle Apartments at 2312 3rd Avenue. I'll meet you in the lobby," Max told him.

Skipper jotted down the address. "I'll be there in half an hour. And thanks again," he said.

"No problem! It's Christmas! See you later," he told him.

"See you," Skipper said before ending the call. It seemed his luck was turning.

— § —

To pass the time, Marlene decided to buy a small Christmas tree and some decorations for it to put in her apartment. She walked around the tree, adjusting the tinsel and ornaments, strategically placing small candy canes here and there, and feeling lonely while doing it.

When she finished, she looked over her masterpiece. A crease formed between her eyes when she realized something was missing from it. She snapped her fingers.

"A star!" she thought aloud. She went in thought when she realized she hadn't bought a star to put on top. Then a thought came to her: why not just make her own star? It would help pass even more time.

After laying out as many arts-n-crafts supplies as she could find in her apartment on her kitchen counter, she set to work.

She worked for about an hour when there was a knock at the door and she answered to Becky and Stacy, her cousins who lived two floors up.

"Cousin!" they exclaimed simultaneously as they hugged either side of her.

"Hey—cousins!" Marlene replied with barely enough time to react to what just happened. "Look at you—here—in my apartment"—she lowered her voice under her breath—"with no prior notice whatsoever . . ." She shut the door behind them.

Stacy—who was a tan brunette wearing a black sweater with red poinsettias etched all over it, jeans, and brown knee-high boots—turned to her. "Oh, come now, Marlene! You know spontaneity is our middle name! We were talking about who to send Christmas cards to and when we thought of you, we realized we hadn't seen you in ages!"

Becky—who was a bit lighter-skinned and blonde, and was wearing a white sweater with Rudolph on the front, jeans, and red flats with golden-colored bells etched into the toe—looked at the tree in the center of her apartment and squealed with delight. "Aw, Marlene! Look at you in the Christmas spirit!"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Marlene inquired.

"We heard about Skipper being out of town. I'm sorry he won't be home for Christmas," Becky said, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and squeezing her tightly.

Marlene pushed away and tucked her hair behind her ear with an uncertain laugh. "No, he called me yesterday. He said he booked a flight for this morning and would be back by this afternoon," she told them.

Becky and Stacy exchanged a knowing look, both frowning.

"Marlene," Stacy started, putting her hand on her shoulder, "I don't know how to tell you this, but all the flights have been cancelled to and from Washington."

Marlene's face contorted in confusion. "What? No, you're wrong. Skipper told me he booked the flight."

"Well," Becky broke in, "he probably just didn't want you to worry. He's probably hoping he'll find another way. Trust us, Marlene. We looked at available flights when we were trying to decide when to go see other relatives for Christmas. We happened to see that flight schedule. The snow is crazy over there. I'm sorry, Marlene."

Marlene looked down and pushed Stacy's hand away. "I'll be right back," she said, pushing through them and grabbing her coat off the hook on the wall. Slipping it on, she went out on the terrace and pulled out her cell phone.

— § —

"All right, boys, we're taking the nonstop to Manhattan at 1430 hours," Skipper said as they climbed into the rental van, brushing the snow off their shoulders. It was coming down pretty steadily now.

"Great," Kowalski said, shutting their luggage into the trunk. "I guess things will work out after all."

"We get to be home for Christmas!" Private said happily from the back seat. Rico smiled and offered him a bite of his popcorn ball that he'd doused in chocolate syrup. Private declined the offer by pressing his lips together and shaking his head back and forth. Rico shrugged and took a big bite out of it, leaving the syrup all around his mouth.

"And that is why I bought plenty of these," Kowalski said, handing a roll of paper towels back to him as he settled in the passenger seat.

"Buckle up, everyone. And Rico, I swear, if you get one stain in this car, I'm making you lick it clean," Skipper warned.

Rico thought for a moment. "Okay!" he said with a smile that, much to the team's worry, seemed legit. Then again, Rico had done stranger things.

Just as Skipper started the engine, his phone rang in his thick winter jacket pocket. He read Marlene's name on the screen and answered as he pulled out of the lot.

"Hey, Marlene. Everything all right?" he answered.

"Skipper, I was just wondering, are you still booked for that flight for this morning?" Marlene asked, ignoring his question.

Skipper took a breath as he prepared himself to lie again. "Yes, Marlene. Everything's going to work out fine."

"Skipper, I'm looking at the flight schedule to and from Washington on my phone right now. All of them are cancelled," Marlene replied.

Skipper pushed his head back into the seat in defeat. He had to remind himself he couldn't close his eyes or he'd crash.

"I'm really sorry, Marlene," he said slowly. "I just didn't want you to worry. And you still don't have to, I've found an alternative. I'm driving to an airport near Pendleton in a rental. A friend will drive the rental back while we take the flight nonstop to Manhattan. I should be there sometime tonight."

There was silence for a moment.

"How do I know you're telling the truth this time?" Marlene asked. Skipper could hear the tears in her voice. "As much as I want you home for Christmas, I don't want you to give me false hope."

Skipper listened to her shaky breathing through the receiver and looked at the snow on the side of the road. "I'm telling the truth, Marlene. You can trust me."

Marlene waited a moment before replying. "All right. I believe you," she said slowly. "But don't lie to me again. I do trust you, Skipper, and I don't want that to change."

Skipper nodded as if she could see him. "You can trust me, Marlene," he repeated. "I gotta go. Love you."

"Love you, too, Skipper," she replied before disconnecting the line.

Skipper dropped his phone back in his pocket and turned into Seattle Apartments, where a chaotic scene was unfolding. There was an ambulance parked in front of the building with a small crowd of people around taking photos and video. Skipper parked by the curb several feet back and turned to his team.

"I'll be back in a minute," he said, getting out. He jogged down the sidewalk and moved around the onlookers when he saw Max about to climb into the back of the ambulance.

"Max!" Skipper called, jogging to the back of the ambulance. Max poked his head back out and his face fell in shock, as if he couldn't believe he was there.

"Skipper," he said, jumping down and putting his hands on his shoulders, "look, man, I am so sorry. It's my wife, she's going into labor! Can you believe it? I'm going to officially be a Dad! When it happened, I completely forgot. I'm gonna—"

"Max! If you don't get in this ambulance right now I'll drive it up your—!"

"Coming, darling!" Max called back into the ambulance. "Look, I gotta go. I'm so sorry. I wish you luck!" he said, climbing back into the ambulance.

"It's fine," Skipper called back half-heartedly. "Congratulations."

Skipper shrugged his way back to the van and slumped into the seat, resting his head on the headrest with his eyes shut.

"What happened, Skipper?" Kowalski inquired.

Skipper started laughing. "Just my luck happened," he said, sitting his elbow on the windowsill and resting his forehead on the palm of his hand. "Max's wife is going into labor. Now. Of course, it had to be now! It's been nine months, it couldn't wait another day?" he asked no one in particular—perhaps Cruel Fate.

"What are you going to tell Marlene? You said you wouldn't lie to her anymore," Private asked from the back seat.

Skipper stared absent-mindedly out the windshield as the ambulance left the parking lot and the commotion died down.

"I don't know, Private," he said quietly.

Kowalski looked at him sympathetically and sighed. "You won't have to tell her anything because we're going to that airport," he said.

Skipper scoffed and shook his head. "And what about the car, Kowalski? They might charge just a bit extra to get someone to go to Oregon to pick it up," he said, looking at him irritably.

"Because," Kowalski said sternly, "I'm going to bring the car back."

"No," Skipper said, looking out the window, "I already told you that's not happening. There's no way I'm leaving you behind, especially on Christmas."

"And there's no way I'm going to stand by and let you crush Marlene and yourself when I could've done something. Now, Rico's cooking all the food, Private's homesick, and me? I'm just there for the fun. No one really needs me there."

"Maybe not, but we all want you there. I'm not leaving you in Washington and that's final, Kowalski," Skipper insisted.

"Skipper, if we're going to make that flight, we need to drive now. Really, I have no problem waiting here for a flight to open up. I'll take the first one back to Manhattan. If it's after Christmas, so be it! Let me do this for you, Skipper!" Kowalski pleaded.

"No! I'm not! And I believe I outrank you, so what I say, goes!" Skipper argued.

Kowalski unbuckled his seatbelt and angled himself toward him. "Oh, don't you throw that up to me! This is not work, and we are not at the precinct! It's Christmas, for Einstein's sake! I'm trying to help you, but you're just too hardheaded to let me!"

Skipper angled toward him. "And I'm telling you that Christmas is a time to be together, to be with the ones you care about! You're one of those people I care about, Kowalski! I'm not leaving you behind!"

"And you're one of those people I care about, Skipper! You're absolutely right! Christmas is a time to be with the ones you love, and the one that loves you is about to have her heart crushed into the snow because you broke your promise to her and didn't make it home for Christmas when you know I could've gotten you there!"

Skipper was about to respond, but the image of Marlene crying on Christmas because he broke his promise to her—because he was too stubborn to accept Kowalski's help—when all he had to do was say yes to Kowalski to be there. She was looking forward to him being there and her one fear was that he wouldn't make it. He promised her he would and he was already coming close to breaking his promise to her. He broke eye contact and looked at the dashboard.

"Even if I agree to this now," he said softly, "I'm not sure how easy it'll be for me to just leave you at the airport."

Kowalski smiled. "Well, in that case, I hope that thick winter coat weighs you down so I can outrun you."

Skipper looked at Kowalski as he relaxed back in his seat and buckled his seatbelt.

"I guess it's settled then. We should get going," he said, turning back to him with a warm smile.

Skipper pressed his lips together and looked at Rico and Private in the backseat. Private was fiddling with his fingertips and looked away when Skipper turned to him. Rico was holding a large chip halfway to his mouth, which was hanging open, and he was looking between Skipper and Kowalski. When Skipper looked at him he awkwardly finished the chip's journey and a loud crunch reverberated throughout the van. Skipper looked at him bitterly and Rico held the bag out to him, offering him a chip. Skipper shook his head and looked at Kowalski.

"I really don't know what to say, Kowalski. 'Thank you' just doesn't seem to be enough," he said softly.

"Don't worry about it," Kowalski replied. "Who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky and a flight will open up soon."

"And of course that'd be my luck," Skipper said, buckling his seatbelt and starting the engine. "Go through all this trouble and then a flight opens up."

"Well, better not to take the chance," Kowalski said as Skipper started pulling out of the parking lot. He stopped to wait for traffic.

"I owe you, Kowalski," Skipper said, looking at him with serious eyes. "More than you know."

Kowalski smiled. "Enjoy your Christmas with Marlene, Skipper. That's all the payment I'll need."