“Speaking of the most commercialized holiday of the entire year . . .  let me ask you the same question that you’ve been asked a hundred times since the turkey was carved,” he says, bringing his hands up to tug on the lapels of the tuxedo jacket I‘m wearing.  “What do you want for Christmas?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” I respond.  “A full-ride, all-expenses paid scholarship; a fabulous rent-free apartment with a big, four-poster bed; and if you have the time to squeeze it in . . . world peace.”

Pacey smiles, his warm blue eyes sparkling.  “Is that all?”

I mockingly brighten dramatically, widening my eyes.  “A Baldwin brother?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he nods seriously.  “I’m sure Daniel’s schedule is clear.”

“Oh, be still my heart.”

He laughs, the sound rich and full in the quiet night air.  “Seriously, hon.  What do you want for Christmas?”

“Whatever you’ve already gotten me will be perfect, Pace,” I tell him, all kidding aside, my fingers unbuttoning and rebuttoning his vest.

He cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow.  “What makes you think I’ve already gotten you something?”

“Oh, I don’t,” I explain.  “I just know you’d better have by today, that‘s all.  You shouldn‘t need to ask, either.”

"I should just know instinctively, is that it?" he asks, his mouth inches from mine. "I should just be able to walk into a store and go, `That's it. Right there. That's Joey's Christmas present,' is that what you're telling me?"

"Without all the posturing and whining, essentially yes, that's what I'm telling you," I smart off, poking him in the stomach. "I've known for the longest time exactly what I'm going to give you for Christmas."

"And what's that?" he asks me, his curiosity piqued.

"Nice try. We're talking about me and my Christmas present, remember?"

He touches his forehead in a gesture of forgetfulness. "Silly me, I keep forgetting that everything is always about you and what you want. Joey, Joey, Joey."

"You've been watching too many Brady Bunch reruns on Nick at Nite," I laugh. "But no, really. Back to me."

“Back to you . . . wait, what about you again?”

I sigh petulantly.  “Paceeeey . . . “

“Now who’s whining?”

“Come on.  You didn’t just randomly ask me what I want for Christmas, Pacey,” I tell him, growing ever more impatient by the minute. 

“You’re right, I didn’t.  But it’s fun watching you squirm, Potter, I gotta tell you,” he grins mischievously, planting a kiss on my forehead then the tip of my nose.  Before his mouth meets mine he whispers, “Reach into your right pocket.”

He kisses me quickly, then leans back to watch my face.  Inside his jacket pocket, my fingers wrap around a rectangularly shaped velvet jewelry box and my mouth drops open.

“What did you do?” I ask in amazement, extracting the case from the pocket.  “If there’s anything more expensive than a cereal box toy bracelet in here, I’m going to kill you.”

“Just open it, Potter.”

The hinges creak audibly as I lift the lid and I can’t help but gasp.  Lying there on a bed of black velvet is one of the most beautiful pieces of jewelry I’ve ever seen; a silver bracelet with a charm attached to a link near the clasp. 

A little sailboat.  I’m thankful for the clear night, and the bright moonlight which allows me to read the tiny engraving along the hull of the ship:  True Love 2000.

I stare at it in amazement, my fingers trembling as I touch the charm then look up into his warm, smiling eyes.  “Would you rather I got you a cereal box bracelet?”

“Shut up,” I whisper, tears welling in my eyes.  “I can’t believe you did this.  How did you do this?  You have no money and . . .  I don’t care.  I love it.”

“You do?” he asks a little hesitantly as he lifts the bracelet from the box, closing the case and tucking it back into the pocket.  “I was thinking, you know, every now and then I’d get you a new charm.  For, um, you know, special events.  Holidays and -”

“I love it,” I reiterate as he lifts my wrist, encircling it with the chain.  His large hands fumble with the tiny clasp but he gets it after a few tries. 

He holds both my hands in his, bringing them up to his mouth.  He presses tiny kisses against my knuckles and tears well in my eyes, scalding hot as they slide down my cheeks.  “I love you,” I tell him, the words barely a whisper around the lump in my throat.

“Good,” he says, taking a deep breath and lowering his forehead to mine.  “Because I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

I reach up and take his face between my palms and I kiss him, my tongue seeking and gaining entrance to his mouth.  The thought he put into it, the saving he must have done.  Months and months ago.  I want him to know in every cell of his body, with every breath he takes, that I love him.

Which makes all the doubts I’ve had about the gift I’m going to give him float away, and I realize just how perfect the choice I’ve made truly is.  I can’t wait to give it to him.

I break the kiss and slide my arms around his neck, leaning up on my toes to hug him.  “Thank you,” I tell him. 

“You’re welcome, princess.“ 

His arms tighten around my waist and I sniffle against his dress shirt, chuckling at the rare endearment.  This truly is a fairytale moment, and my eyes are wide open.