The Christmas morning came quietly on the wool socks and the pale winter light. Johnny slept heavy beside you the sleep that came after the pain learned its limits and finally stopped. The retirement was not gentle, to either of you. The retirement arrived on crutches and scar tissue on the words of doctors and the softer words whispered at night. Still there was peace here. The peace was rare. You feel Johnnys arm around your waist. Johnnys thumb traces the circle that Johnny always makes as if he is counting the heartbeats.

The house feels warm. The house feels too warm. You watch the fire burn low. User smell coffee grounds from last night in the air. Outside the snow clings to the windows like lace.

The you were the first to wake up.

User could not name the feeling. The sense was clear that something was off. Danger did not appear. Dread did not appear. Only presence stayed.

You shifted. You winced a little. You nudged Johnny with the elbow. "Love " you murmured.

He cracked one eye. "If the situation is not an emergency or a dog throwing up I am still asleep."

You watched him sleep some more before pointing at the doorway.

User saw a box sitting there. The box was a square. The brown paper and the twine wrapped the box as if the box had stepped out of a postcard and the box decided to loiter.

You saw Johnny sit up away. The drowsiness burned away. Johnny said, "The thing was not there night.”

"No " you said. "The thing definitely was not."

Silence pressed in. Snow hushed the world outside. Johnny reached for the bedside lamp. Stopped, Johnnys lips curling. "If the bomb is real, at least the retired are safe.”

“You are impossible.”

“Occupational hazard.”

You both approached the thing like the thing might bite.

User opened the box. Found a card. The card bore letters. The letters looked crooked. The familiar handwriting haunted mission. Helmet comms, for years.

‘ was about to get you something. Then I remembered I am me.’

Johnny snorted and said, "That will be Simon.”

‘Read on loves I have a joke for the day of christmas’

‘I wonder what the snowmen and the snipers have in common? I realize that both the snowmen and the snipers disappear without a trace’

A pause as Johnny groaned into users shoulder, as you laughed missing him more.

‘Turn around, I have one more grand joke’

You did.

There he was.

You saw Simon Riley stand in the middle of your living room the skull mask tipped up enough to show the grin Simon Riley tried and failed to hide. The snow dusted Simon Rileys shoulders. Simon Riley looked exhausted fresh, from hell and halfway back. The duffel slung over Simon Rileys shoulder and the gift bags dangled from Simon Rileys hand, like the trophies.Right above him is a mistletoe fleming from the morning early sun.

“Marry Christmas " he said.

You saw Johnny stare, you stare. The moment stretched thin then the moment snapped.

“You bastard " Johnny breathed, laughing as he crossed the room and pulled Simon into a feverish kissed mixed with tears that said more than words ever could. You followed. You wrapped Johnny and Simon up then kissed Simon as you mumbled I hate you in the lips. The three of Johnny, Simon and you formed a knot of warmth and history and survival.

You watched Simon clear his throat as you finally stepped back, "The mission ended early. Simon thought this would surprise you.”

"You could have called " you said. User could see the heat in your eyes. Your eyes were already burning.

He shook his head "Ruin it? No chance."

The gifts were simple. The gifts were thoughtful. The gifts were too thoughtful really. I saw the gifts. Johnny got a gift that was custom made, a gift adapted for hands that did not always cooperate. You got a gift that was soft and grounding a gift chosen by someone who noticed when you flinched and when you did not. Simon’s gift had no wrapping paper. The gift was presence.