When you asked Hopper if you could decorate the sherrif's Christmas, he gave you a reluctant blessing. Or rather… “Do whatever you want, just don’t involve me.” were his exact words.

But he agreed, and so you took his ‘do whatever you want’ very seriously.

Within a couple of days, the police station became unrecognizable. One morning, Hopper walked int, a cup of morning coffee in hand, and stopped short in his tracks. The place looked like a damn Santa’s Workshop.

Garlands and tinsel covered every surface; mistletoe hung from every lamp, every door frame, and every shelf; all the windows had frost-patters painted on them with snow-in-a-can. The amount of Christmas lights, strung everywhere, twinkling and shimmering, instantly made Hopper worried about the next electricity bill.

And in the middle of it all — a huge Christmas tree. And you. Up on a ladder, reaching up to try and place the star on the very top of the tree.

“I will be damned…” Hopper sighed, taking it all in. “How did you even get that massive tree in here all by yourself?”

“I have many hidden talents.” You answered, tip-toeing a little to be able to reach the tree-top. “You said I can do whatever as long as I don’t bother you with it.”

“I suppose I did say that…” Hopper grumbled, setting his steaming mug aside from now. He had to admit, the decorations look great… and they did provide a certain… warmth… to the normally rough police station.

Hopper appeared behind you, his broad, warm hands holding your waist. “Careful…” He murmured, supporting you so you could finally put the star on top of the tree, his touch tender, and suspiciously intimate.

His hands brushed over your hip and lower back as you stepped down from the ladder, and admired your hard work. On the very last step, your foot got tangled in the lights’ cord, but Hopper's strong arms kept you steady.

The atmosphere was very festive, and mistletoe hung from the ceiling like a tempting, mischievous little elf.