I know Jill and Amanda have written Christmas fics already, and I know this one is a little similar to Jill's – sorry! Go and read hers, it's much better;) – but I just thought I'd like to write something to say merry Christmas to all the Scott&Bailey fans out there. It's reasonably fluffy for my standards too. Enjoy!x

It's hard to pull a cracker alone

It had been Kevin who'd suggested it, in the beginning.

An uncomfortable silence had bounced around MIT's room, because Gill had been in the middle of a high-profile briefing, with one of those looks on her prim face which suggested she would murder anyone who dared to interrupt her. And get away with it, too.

"You may as well get scrubbing the floor, Kev," Rachel muttered under her breath, breaking a digestive in half and dipping one part into her coffee, "You'll be at it for the rest of your life."

"Can we all just pipe down and let Gill get on with the briefing, please," Janet said, "I know you're excited, but you're acting like school kids."

Janet didn't like to assert her authority as sergeant, but she didn't like to see Gill trampled on either, particularly when her friend was already having a hard time. They'd both be alone this Christmas.

Gill stopped writing and wiped the notes from the whiteboard with her cardigan sleeve, leaving a black smear. Her pen hovered an inch from the board momentarily, and Kevin envisaged her writing GET OUT NOW KEVIN. If she had, he would've pointed out that she'd missed the comma.

Instead, she sat down on the desk, swinging her legs. Her skirt rose up her leg a little, revealing a tattoo; she pulled it down again quickly before any of them could register the details, but surprised glances flew around the room.

"You think I'm going to be lonely at Christmas? You pity me because my son wants to go to his tosser of a father's rather than stay with his mother, who can actually cook? Is that what it is?"

"Gill, he was just trying to be nice," Janet pleaded.

"Actually, Ma'am, yeah. I think it's kind of sad that you're going to be on your own," Kevin said. Gill stopped swinging her legs. "And so will Janet, and Rachel feels a bit awkward when her sister always makes the food for her and Dom, don't you, Rach?"

"Not particularly."

He kicked her under the table. She offered him a digestive in a reconciliatory manner.

"I've not got anyone either."

"I'm not surprised, Kevin. If I was your mother, I wouldn't want to invite you for Christmas dinner either. God knows what would happen to the sprouts."

Mitch and Lee smirked behind their hands. Janet clicked her pen lid on and off, feeling uncomfortable, wishing she was going to spend the whole day with her daughters. She knew she shouldn't be greedy; she and Adrian had worked out that he'd have them in the morning, and she'd have them in the afternoon, but it had always been their special day as a family. In truth, Kevin's proposal, absurd as it was, made her feel a bit warmer inside.

"You know what, Ma'am?" Kevin said quietly, "My mum died when I was eight. It was December, there was a bit of snow; I remember because the doctor took me and my dad outside to tell us."

Gill's head dropped a little bit, "I'm sorry."

He shrugged and took another digestive. Janet couldn't quite tell, but it looked as though Rachel had stretched out her legs under the table and laid them on Kevin's knees. As comforting someone went, that was a new method, but she couldn't deny it was a sweet one.

"My dad died a few years ago. I guess I've been a bit unlucky, really," he smiled a smile that only highlighted the sadness in his eyes, "I went to Marks and Spencer's on Christmas Eve to get something, and there was this little old woman standing next to the cabinet looking at the 'dine-in meal for one' Christmas puddings."

Rachel sighed, "Aw, that's so sad."

"I just thought nobody should have to do that, when it's supposed to be a happy time. I just thought–" he shrugged, "God, I sound like such a prick, but I didn't want any of you to be unhappy. It's really hard pulling a cracker on your own."

Gill got down from the table and rummaged through her handbag. She pressed a tissue into Kevin's hand. Nobody spoke for a few minutes, just because it seemed like such an odd situation. They'd never seen a side to Kevin that didn't involve joking and teasing.

"They might have a spare table for Christmas dinner at the pub," Pete suggested helpfully, "I could check?"

Gill nodded. She wrote up on the whiteboard: CHRISTMAS DINNER.

"Can we have pigs in blankets?" Lee asked.

"What's the veggie option?"

"I didn't know you were a vegetarian," Janet raised her eyebrows at Rachel "You seem perfectly happy to tuck into bacon sandwiches normally."

"Calm down, I'm just checking."

Gill looked around the room. Kevin was drawing a line down the last digestive and trying to crack it evenly to share with Rachel. Janet was arguing with Lee over whether turkey was better with seasoning or not, and Pete was doodling Christmas trees on his arm.

"I sort of mentioned the police thing," Pete smirked as he came back into the room, "They think they'll be able to fit us in, Ma'am."

"That's sorted, then," Janet said.

"Ma'am?" Kevin asked innocently.

"Yes, Kevin?"

"What's your tattoo?"

She snorted, "Don't push your luck."

"Don't worry," Rachel said, standing up and writing 'vegetarian option' next to a little arrow connected to CHRISTMAS DINNER, "We'll find out when she gets drunk and dances on the tables."

Gill supposed Kevin was right, really. Besides the fact that she had nobody else to turn to for Christmas – she'd been like the little old lady in previous years, getting an M&S ready meal because she didn't have the heart to cook – she loved her colleagues.

God, she'd never tell them that, even if she was on her death bed with blood trickling out of her lips, but she loved them. She didn't really think spending Christmas with them would be so bad, if there was plenty of strong red wine available.

"Remind me to wear trousers."

XxXxX