Christmas morning dawned bright with the glint of sunshine on snow in Brooklyn, New York. All across the city, children had been up since the early hours, eager to tear into their presents, making all kinds of noise to wake their parents and begin the joys of Christmas Day and all the surprises it entailed. But in one brownstone, the child in the house had not managed to wake everyone up before dawn, allowing the adults to wake in their own time, engaged into something else by the one other person who had woken when he did. The enticing smell of breakfast filtered through the house, mingling with coffee, the background hum of Christmas songs on the radio just audible from upstairs. But it was the sound of laughter outside that finally roused those still sleeping - not one voice, but two, bright and happy in the quiet of the morning.

Adam and Gina wandered downstairs, bundled up in their bathrobes, to find coffee on and breakfast made, and Joey nowhere to be found. His presents were still wrapped and safely stowed beneath the tree, so he couldn't have gone far. It wasn't until Gina noticed the sound of laughter outside the house that they realized Joey wasn't alone. The two of them watched as Natalya and Joey played like two children in the new fallen snow.

As was expected, Rhys was the last one to stumble down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, drawn to the smell of fresh coffee brewing. "Has anyone seen Natalya?" he asked sleepily.

It seemed to take a long time for either one of the parents to answer, but finally Gina tore her gaze away from the garden to grin over at Rhys. "You really should see this," she told her friend, gesturing for him to come over to the window and look out into the garden. Where Joey and Natalya were busily creating an impressive snowman, both bundled up against the cold and laughing over something they had shared in the wee hours while everyone else slept.

Rhys stumbled to the kitchen, his hair going every which way, for the most part rested but groggy from a night's sleep. He was wearing the blue bathrobe Natalya had given him, loosely tied over a pair of shorts and a t-shirt underneath. He took a sip of the coffee, before glancing curiously over to the pair who seemed to be intent on watching something outside the window. "See what?" he asked as he moved closer. From the look of surprise on his face, the last thing he expected to see was his wife cavorting in the snow with Gina's young son. "Is that Nat?"

"That's Nat," Gina confirmed, sharing a grin with Adam as she leaned into him. "She's the one who made breakfast, too. I almost can't believe it - we got a lie in on Christmas morning. She must have been up with Joey for hours. He usually has me out of bed by six."

"Nat is making a snowman?" Rhys asked, hardly believing what they were telling him and what he was seeing, though he wasn't sure why. After all, he had already seen that she was going to be a great mother. "I didn't even hear her get out of bed," Rhys remarked, as he watched Nat and Joey playing in the snow.

Adam smiled as he wound his arms around Gina's waist, dropping a kiss against her cheek. "Maybe we should go back to bed for a while," he teased.

Leaning back into Adam's arms, Gina was on the cusp of agreeing with a grin when a familiarly hyperactive voice yelled suddenly from the garden. "Mom! Adam! You're up!" Abandoning his snowman, Joey came charging back toward the house, only just remembering to jump up and down on the steps Nat must have swept this morning to shake the snow from his boots before he burst in through the door to envelop Gina and Adam in a chilly but heartfelt hug.

Slower to follow, nonetheless Nat joined them in the kitchen a moment or two later, shaking snowflakes out of her hair as she closed the door, turning her smile onto Rhys. "Good morning, milaya."

Adam laughed as Joey burst into the house and flung himself at them. He plucked the hat off Joey's head and ruffled his hair before wrapping both Joey and Gina in a warm hug. "Merry Christmas!" he told them both. Though he had never really celebrated the holiday much himself, he now had two reasons to do so and he was hugging them both.

Rhys flashed a smile at his wife as she followed Joey back into the house. "Good morning, sunshine," he told her as he stepped over to drop a kiss against her cold cheek.

For a split second, Nat hesitated, her eyes widening just a little in surprise at hearing that particular endearment from those lips. Then she relaxed, stealing her chilly hands inside that brand new bathrobe to tease against his skin under his t-shirt, turning her lips to his. "Solynshko," she corrected him impishly. "If you must call me that, pronounce it properly, dusha moya."

He laughed, flinching when her cold hands touched his bare skin, unable to push her away as he was still holding a cup of hot coffee in his hand. He'd never heard the word in Russian before and had only picked up a little of her native tongue, his pronunciation imperfect, though he tried. "I'm not sure I can say that."

"You can learn," she promised him. If he was going to call her sunshine, he would have to say it in Russian. She'd never asked him to learn anything of her native tongue before; she would probably never ask him again. But that one endearment, that loving name, had been given to her by her brother. It didn't sound right in English.

As Nat kissed her husband once again, Gina was busily serving up the breakfast that had been keeping warm in the kitchen, leaving Adam to wrestle the jabbering Joey out of his coat and hat while the boy talked ten to the dozen. "....and we swept up the snow on the steps out front, too, and said Merry Christmas to Mrs Gunderburg next door, and Nat let me make the pancakes, and then because you were all still asleep, we made snow angels and had a snowball fight, and made a snowman, and can I please open my presents now?"

He was willing to learn, especially if it meant that much to her, but at the moment, he was too busy kissing her to worry much about learning how to pronounce one word or the reason why it seemed so important to her. For the moment, they might as well be all alone for all he was paying attention to the trio nearby.

"I think you are right," Nat agreed with Adam thoughtfully. "Over here you might call it a gravy. At home, gravy is made with the drippings from the meat and vegetables. Bread sauce is, well, breadcrumbs and cream and a few other things. It is a ....tinny?" She frowned, knowing she'd got the wrong word there.

Neither Rhys nor Adam seemed to quite grasp what word she was going for there. Hopefully, Gina would be able to sort it out. "We make gravy that way here, too. Unless you're lazy and would rather open a can." Rhys shoved another forkful of pancakes into his mouth, drenched in far too much syrup.

"What do you usually have for Christmas dinner?" Adam asked Nat curiously before crunching on a hunk of bacon.

"We celebrate Christmas Eve, rather than Christmas Day," Nat told him with half a smile, her groping for the word forgotten in the confusion of the others at the table. "And the Russian Orthodox Church celebrates Christmas in January, by the Julian calendar. Traditionally, we fast for 40 days before the celebration - no meat, no fish, we are essentially vegan for a little over a month. After the first star rises on Christmas Eve, we are allowed to feast." She chuckled, knowing all this was going to sound very strange to the Americans sitting around her.

"No meat?" Rhys echoed, a little dumbfounded. There was no way in hell he could go a week without a cheeseburger, much less a month. As a boy, his parents had followed the Catholic tradition of abstaining from meat on Fridays, but that tradition had died with his parents when he was nine. Dylan had followed no such stringent restrictions on his diet, eating whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it. Like Rhys, he hadn't believed he'd live long enough to ever have to worry about the consequences of an unhealthy diet, and that included the use of alcohol.

As Gina and Joey shared a quiet snigger into their food, knowing Rhys' eating habits as well as Adam did, Nat grinned at her husband. "Not until Christmas Day," she told him. "And then there is as much as you can eat. Sausages, cold cuts, salads, smoked and salted fish, cheeses, stooden ....which is a sort of savory jelly," she added before anyone could ask. "There is a roast, usually goose or duck, stuffed with apple - some people even serve soups with pirogi."

"I'm all for the feast," Rhys replied, plucking up a slice of bacon. "But you can keep the fast." There was a reason for his sometimes gluttonous appetite that went beyond a mere love of food and a bottomless stomach, but he wasn't about to discuss it here. He reached for his cup of coffee and took a long swallow, while Adam broke in, "So, we're back to square one. Who's cooking dinner?" It was something of a miracle Joey was being as patient as he was, and Adam knew it wouldn't last.

Gina snorted with laughter, rolling her eyes. "I thought Rhys volunteered himself and Nat," she pointed out with a grin, sipping the last of he coffee. Like Adam, she was keeping one eye on Joey. They weren't going to be able to put off the frenzy to open presents for much longer.

"It's the least we can do to repay you both for your hospitality," Rhys pointed out, though they had never really been considered guests, but family. "Besides, it'll be fun."

Adam rolled his eyes. "You're not the one who'd gonna have to clean up the mess!"

"In that case, I am going to volunteer myself," Nat broke in laughingly. "I would rather cook than clean up!" This cheeky addendum distracted Joey from the beginning of his objections to how long it was taking to finish breakfast as he laughed with his new friend, Gina's own amusement only just hidden.

"Masterfully done," she complimented Nat with a flicker toward a grin. "But first ....clothes, and presents." An explosion of sound from the end of the table signaled Joey making a break for the stairs to run up and get himself washed and dressed for the day, given license to do whatever it took to get into his presents as soon as he could.

Rhys laughed as Joey dashed away from the table and darted up the stairs. "I think that's the quickest I've ever seen him move."

Adam moved to his feet to start clearing the table, starting with Joey's half-eaten plate of food, too excited in eager anticipation of his present to eat it all. "I never really celebrated Christmas before. It's a nice change," he said.

"Baby, I don't think the past matters much anymore," Gina commented, moving to help him as the thumps from overhead tracked Joey's movement through his bedroom and the bathroom. "This is our first Christmas as a family. We're starting a new tradition."

"And may there be many of them," Nat added, leaning into Rhys at the table. She would tell him eventually what had caused the change in her attitude overnight, why he couldn't call her sunshine in English, how she had set aside her insecurities. But for now, she just wanted to enjoy her first family Christmas, with the people who meant the most to her.

Adam knew Gina was right, and though he was hoping to one day include some of his own family and native traditions into their lives, there was still plenty of time for that. For now, he was happy to simply be surrounded by his family and closest friends who were as good as family. In the end, no matter what your faith or upbringing or traditions, whether you called this time of year Christmas, Yule, Solstice, or any number of other names, it was about sharing with those who you loved most, and there was no one he would rather share the day with than the people right under this roof, and that included a certain Russian who he loved like a sister and who was married to the one person he considered a brother.

This time next year, the celebration would be fuller, with a new baby to entertain, as well as Rachel and Zachariel to swell their ranks. But this smaller, more intimate grouping of those who had been through hell, together and singly, was the perfect start to the hope for many such Christmases in each other's company. Good company made up for a world of sins, and in this house, there was a wealth of good company. And Natalya knew for a fact that it would go on and on, well into the years to come. She felt honored that she would be able to watch their family grow and bind itself tighter together, herself as much a part of it as any of them, thanks to a Christmas ghost and the gentle melody of a beautiful music box. Things would only get better from here on in. She knew it.

((And a Happy New Year! Awesomungus thankidoodles to Rhys' player!))