"Food?" George said, standing in the doorway of the lunchroom looking rather stunned. "Did…Did Emily cook it?"

"What's that supposed to mean, George?"

"It was a joint effort." York said, "Perfectly environmentally safe." He added, slicing the meat as he loaded three plates. "Though I'm not sure it needed that much salt, Emily…"

"How else would it get any flavor?"

George pulled out his chair, sitting down as he removed his hat and set in on the table. "Doesn't look half bad." He agreed roughly, taking his plate from York and slapping some mash potatoes on it.

"Thank you, George." Emily agreed, though she was looking York in the eye pointedly as she said it. The agent shrugged helplessly.

The Sheriff looked up as his potatoes gave an oddly, salty crunch. "Are there…are there pickles in these?"

"It was to add texture!"

"We might've asked if George preferred his pickles in his potatoes or on the side first, Emily."

"You're the one who insisted we use them, Agent York."

"Well, it's …interesting." George said.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, before Emily coughed awkwardly.

"So… Since you're both here, I suppose it's a good time to give you your presents." She was met with two rather surprised looks.

The blond leaned down, picking up her bag as she pulled out two small packages. There were others, obviously intended for Thomas and the like when she saw them again.

George's was a watch. "Thank you, Emily." He said, sounding grateful. "I don't have your gift with me, though. I'll have to give it to you another time."

"That's okay, George." Emily said with a smile.

York's was a coffee cup, naturally. He was holding it up, inspecting it carefully. "Quite fine craftsmanship, right Zach? Hand painted. Something only a small town could provide." He mused, straitening up as he cut off his side conversation to face an expectant Emily. "Thank you, Emily. I'll drink out of it from now on."

"You're welcome, Agent York." Emily said, sounding a bit pleased with herself at his reaction.

"Now, for the gifts I brought you two." York said, walking over to the small tree set up near the TV and pulling three previously hidden packages out from under it, one left behind.

Both George and Emily gaffed in surprise – "You bought us gifts?" She said, astounded.

"I'm surprised, York." George agreed.

"Of course I did. What kind of Agent do you take me for?" He said handing Emily a large square present and a small boxed one. George received a longer, slimmer wrapped package.

The cowboy hat wearing Sheriff opened his first. "It's a tie…with deer on it." He said.

"Amazing, isn't it? I thought it would go nicely with your small town Sheriff look."

"Well, uh…Thank you, York. That was…considerate, of you." George seemed rather unsure of what to make of the whole thing. It was certainly one of the odder gifts he'd gotten.

"A cook book?" Emily gaped, "Agent York, what are you trying to say?"

"Well, you said you practiced cooking everyday – the recipes in this one are simpler –"

"Simpler?" York was almost frightened by Emily's ability to put her hands on her hips, even when sitting.

George was laughing, holding his stomach as Emily bickered and York continued to keep his cool composition. He stood, taking all the plates to the kitchen. "I'll go wash these." He said, chuckling. The deputy sheriff and the FBI agent didn't seem to notice his exit.

Emily shrugged on her coat, still looking rather flustered over the earlier occurrence. York was as composed as ever as he waited patiently for her.

"You two have a safe drive home." George said, hands in his pockets as he watched the two get ready to leave. The dishes had been washed, and the clock now read eight o' clock. "I'm going to stay here to finish up a few things. I'll lock the station up."

"Thank you, George. You have a good Christmas Eve." She said, her words receiving a nod of agreement from York as the sheriff disappeared down the hallway to his office.

"Still angry, Emily?" York asked kindly, handing Emily her mittens.

"I wasn't angry." Emily said, huffing at York's raised eyebrow, "I was…offended."

"My apologies."

"You're forgiven." The blond said, giving him York a suspicious look, as if his apology posed some type of threat. When she was met with a normal, stoic York face, she sighed. "I can't believe you bought me a cook book for Christmas, Agent York."

"I bought you two gifts, Emily." He reminded politely.

Emily blinked in surprise, then remembrance, reaching in her coat pocket to pull out the smaller package. Opening it, she looked upon a small black box. Inside was a bracelet, its glass beads alternating between white and teal, the strap brown. She stared at it for a moment, before touching her neck in reflex, to the matching necklace hidden under her scarf. "Oh…" She said, looking a little shocked. She hadn't been aware York was so observant. "Um, thank you, Agent York." Her words were a little halting, "And all I got you was a stupid coffee mug." A hand pressed to her forehead in exasperation.

"I like my gift, Emily. Coffee is a vital investigation tool, as are the cups it's drunk from."

Emily flipped her wrist, trying to clasp the bracelet to no avail. Her eyes widened a little in shock as York reached down and carefully did it for her. "Thanks." She slipped the small box back into her pocket, rolling her coat sleeve back down as York pulled on his gloves.

"All ready?" She nodded, and York leaned towards the door, Emily close behind.

"Um…" The blond said, the agent glanced back in expectancy. "Mistletoe." She said, pointing up to the little wad of leaves hung above the doorway, no doubt put there by Thomas. She crossed her arms and coughed a little, awkwardly. "It's a...tradition, you know."

The agent straightened, "Not to worry, Emily. I wouldn't force you into anything because of some silly old 'tradition'." He said, oblivious as he opened the door and went outside.

"Of course you wouldn't." Emily groaned helplessly, sighing as she followed him out. She headed towards the parking lot before a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Not so fast, Emily."

She blinked, turning towards the Agent as she waited for an explanation.

"We've got a snowman to build."

Inside, George looked around his desk in wondering, after discovering the lunchroom empty of the item he was looking for. "Where in the hell is my hat?" He asked himself, scratching his bare head in wonder.

Author's note: Yes, I know, I totally killed the perfect moment for York x Emily fluff there at the mistletoe part. But admit it, York being completely dense and just waving it off is totally something he would do, unfortunately for Emily. I must say, they're one of my favorite, if not the favorite, of my videogame couples now. Their chemistry is really great. I love Emily's quick temper combined with York's nonchalant behavior. And the fact that it's portrayed so maturely in game. Maybe someday I'll stop being lazy and write a real fic for them. Anyway, thanks for reading!