It was Christmas Eve and Danny was trying to drink himself into oblivion. It was his first Christmas without Scottie; it could have been his first Christmas with Alex. Danny took another swig from the bottle of cheap vodka, bought when he had been gently lead out of the last club too drunk to be allowed to stay. It had started to snow and the wind was bitterly cold when he trudged over the bridge, the large building on the other side looming heinously over the river. When Danny reached the very spot of their first meeting, he covered in the narrow corner, seeking shelter against the wind. Another swallow brought an eerie kind of warmth with it and Danny felt the world around him transform. A living room, warm and welcoming with a small, beautiful Christmas tree in the middle. Small gifts lay under it and the table nearby was laid out for three people. Danny blinked and the image disappeared, leaving him cold and shaking in the dreadful winter storm. He took another deep drink from the bottle and the room returned. Now, the door opened and Scottie entered with a kind smile on his face, winking at Danny while he prepared the table. Again, the image disappeared and desperately, Danny emptied the bottle in one large gulp. The room was back and this time, Alex stood in the doorway, uncertain about his welcome. Scottie beckoned him inside, indicating the chair next to where Danny would be sitting. Danny walked towards the two of them, embracing Scottie for a hug and then he turned to Alex, holding him close and their lips met in a deep kiss.

Two days later, a jogger found the body of a young man on Lambeth Bridge frozen to death during the snowstorm.