Christmas. The most dreaded time of a year for any spy, but especially Michael Westen. The winter holiday season typically brought out the worst in everyone from handlers crabby to get back to their families once a year to informants feeling remorse and wanting some kind of spiritual forgiveness. The only person a spy could count on at any time of year was him or herself, but especially at the holidays. He knew that normal people viewed it as a period of joy and festivity, but then, spies weren’t normal people.

On top of all the things going down with getting back into the game, Michael now had to worry about a family holiday complete with Mom, Nate, Fiona, and Sam in the same house for a whole day. Forget buying presents in malls filled with crazy, last-minute shoppers; surviving the day itself would put all his skills to the test.

Mom was expecting them for presents at ten. Even though it was only seven, Michael was ready to jump out of his skin from anticipation. The bad kind. The kind of anticipation that told him a deal was going to go very, very wrong.

“Would you stop,” Fiona groaned, poking him in the side. “It’s too early to freak out.”

Michael took that as a sign that it wasn’t too early to get up and hopped over her and out of bed. He walked to the kitchen and took out a blueberry yogurt. He’d plowed through it and was onto a peach yogurt when Sam shuffled into the kitchen and took it from him. “Ease up on that stuff, Mikey, or you’ll go into dairy shock or something.”

Michael ignored him and took the container back. “Thanks for the concern, Sam. Did you get the pies?”

“Check,” Sam confirmed. “And the eggnog. And the rum, for that matter. You know, the important stuff.”

Fiona wandered in just then and wrapped her arms around Michael’s waist, resting her head against his shoulder. “Maybe you could call and cancel, tell your mother that you two wore me out last night.”

One of his biggest nightmares, his mother finding out that he was in a threesome with Sam and Fiona. Shaking his head, Michael asked plaintively, “Can’t a guy just eat his yogurt in peace?”

She pulled back and rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Sam. Time for a shower. We’ll leave the addict to his drug of choice.”

Sam winked at Michael and said, “Sorry, buddy, duty calls.”

Michael snorted, but didn’t give him grief. He was just glad that they’d found a real truce; the tug-of-war they’d had with him in the middle had been wearing very thin. While he’d rather not have had Fiona at the mercy of a psychotic terrorist, it had actually brought them all together.

Too restless to do any working out, Michael picked up the phone and called Nate, who picked up the phone with a sleepy, “Yeah? Mike? What’s wrong?”

Wincing at the assumption on his brother’s part, Michael assured, “Nothing, Nate, sorry. Just wondering if you want a ride?”

Nate sounded awkward as he replied, “No, man, thanks. Um, I’m driving. Well, actually, I’m bringing someone.”

Michael blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah. And don’t worry, she’s not a spy using me to get to you. Fiona checked her out for me,” Nate promised. “She’s a teacher. I think you’ll like her.”

Not surprised that Nate hadn’t come to him or that he’d checked out his new girlfriend, Michael said, “That’s good, Nate. All right. I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

He hung up before his brother could drop any other bombs.

A shriek from the bathroom had him running to it and he found Fiona and Sam naked and wet and hugging towels to themselves. Fury lit Fiona’s eyes as she shouted, “You promised to get the furnace fixed, Michael!”

“Oops,” he muttered quietly.

Even Sam glared at him and said, “Little Sammy’s not happy either, Mikey. He’s definitely not coming out to play any time soon. Not for you anyhow.”

Michael sighed. The day couldn’t get any worse.

Four hours later, Michael revised that thought as he attempted to fix his mother’s stove.

“How long does it take, Michael? You’ve been at it for almost an hour now!” she demanded. “There won’t be enough time to cook the turkey!”

Michael gritted his teeth and said, “I don’t know, Ma, I’m not a repairman.”

“Don’t get testy with me, Michael, I told you a week ago that I was having problems with it,” she snapped, stalking out of the kitchen.

Michael was tempted to turn on the gas and keep his head in the stove, but just sighed and kept working. Sam came in a few minutes later and crouched beside him with, “Need some help, buddy?”

“Can you fix a stove?” Michael questioned.

Sam shook his head. “No, but I could hand you tools and keep your beer warm.”

Michael had to grin a little at that. “Thanks, Sam, that’d be perfect.”

Between them, Sam had some pretty good suggestions, they did actually get the stove working. His Mom and Fiona and Nate’s new girlfriend Shanna kicked them out of the kitchen as soon as it was done and he went gratefully.

“You know, I’m never here unless there’s an emergency,” Sam observed. “This is kinda nice. Hey. Show me your old room.”

Michael asked, “Why?”

Sam insisted, “Because I want to see it. You know, when someone’s not threatening to blow it up.”

Rolling his eyes, Michael brought Sam back to his room, which had been changed into a sewing/hobby room, from the looks of it. Not that his mother sewed or had hobbies. His old bed was still there, though, and a couple of toys from when he was a kid were on the shelves.

Sam observed, “So this is where little Mikey Westen grew up.”

Michael snorted. “Yeah, Sam. Exciting stuff, I know.”

Sam grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him in close, saying, “It is to me,” before kissing him, slow and easy.

He fell for it every damn time. Michael sometimes forgot that beneath the brash, boozing exterior was a man who’d been in covert-ops for decades, both fieldwork and as a handler. The man could lie like a rug and be as deceptive as thin ice over an Alaskan ice field. In this, though, Michael knew there was nothing but truth and love. The mouth that covered his, the tongue that slid along his, and the strong hands that gripped his hips were filled with both and he needed them like he needed air.

“Whoa. Okay, um, didn’t know you two were occupied,” Nate’s voice interrupted, sounding shocked. “I’ll tell Mom you’re, ah, busy. That you’ll be out in a minute.”

Michael groaned and thumped his head against Sam’s chest. “This is not my day.”

Sam laughed softly, the sound rumbling through him, and said, “Well, if you can’t come out to your mother now, you never will, Mikey.”

“And what about Fiona?” Michael pointed out. “Mom’s looking at her as a future daughter-in-law, you know.”

Shrugging, Sam pointed out, “Madeline’s no dumb bunny, Mike. If you haven’t told her that you and Fi are together by now, then she knows there’s no real future in it.”

“But we are together.”

“Well true. But Madeline doesn’t know that. And hey. Maybe Nate won’t say anything.”

Michael just gave him a look, to which Sam gave a weak smile. Sighing, he broke free of the light hold and headed out to the living room. Nate, Shanna, and his mother were all waiting, and Michael almost broke and ran for it, except for Sam’s solid presence right behind him.

Fiona came out with a dishtowel in hand saying, “That’s the last dish, Madeline. We’re ready to set the…table? What’s going on?”

To give Fiona credit, she knew when a family shouting match was about to begin.

Folding her arms over her ample chest, Madeline exclaimed, “That’s what I want to know. Michael, what is going on? Nate said…were you making out with Sam in your bedroom?”

Michael glared at his little brother. “Thanks a lot, Nate.”

Nate smirked a bit. “No problem, bro.”

“I think I should leave,” Shanna offered.

Madeline told her, “Stay, honey. Michael? I’m waiting.”

Sighing, Michael confirmed, “Yes. Sam and I were making out in my old room. He wanted to see it so I showed it to him.”

“Since when are you, are you gay?” she demanded. “Either of you!”

Michael glanced at Sam, who shrugged, leaving it up to him. Looking back at his mother, he answered, “We’re not. We both like women, too. It’s called bisexual.”

She snapped, “I know what it’s called, Michael, I am not an idiot. When did you two get together? And what about Fiona?”

“Yes, Michael, what about me?” Fiona asked, sounding amused.

Gritting his teeth, wondering if it was too late for the gas option, Michael said, “Sam, Fiona, and I have been in a relationship together for three months.”

“Wow. That totally beats me bringing home a girl,” Nate muttered.

Shanna gave him an indignant look and exclaimed, “You brought me home to meet your mother in order to one-up your brother?” before picking up her purse and stalking out of the house.

Nate jumped up and rushed after her, the door slamming behind him.

Madeline looked tired as she sat down on the sofa, as if all her strength suddenly left her.

A little worried, Michael walked over to her. He was relieved when Sam and Fiona went into the kitchen, leaving them alone. Sitting, he asked, “You okay, Ma?”

She gave him a wan look and replied, “I’ve been better, Michael. This isn’t what I expected from you. Nate, maybe, but not you. You’ve always seemed too…rigid, I guess.”

Eyebrows lifting in surprise, Michael asked, “Is that how you see me?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “But not in a bad way. Not like your father.”

Michael didn’t want to think about his father at all, let alone that he might be like him in any way. Ignoring that, he said, “I didn’t do this to shock you. Sam and Fi and I, well, we just work.”

Madeline’s mouth quirked a bit as she said, “They’ve always guarded their time with you jealously, especially against each other, so I guess in hindsight, this isn’t that much of a surprise. All the sniping they did over you. I had noticed that that wasn’t as bad as before, but figured that Fiona getting shot like that had eased things between them.”

“Oh it did,” Michael replied, thinking about that first kiss between his lovers. It still gave him goosebumps, the tenderness Sam had shown to the still-injured Fiona.

Holding up her hand, Madeline stated, “I do not want to know. Not ever. Not details, anyhow. Just…are you happy, Michael?”

Michael thought about it and finally told her, “I am, Ma.”

She smiled for real then and said, “Then that’s all that matters, honey. Oh! And grandkids! I can still have grandchildren out of this arrangement! Fiona! Come here right now.”

Fiona hurried in and allowed Madeline to squirrel her away, chattering about boys versus girls and how many. Nate returned with Shanna, much cowed by his misstep and then it was the women back in the kitchen and the men in the living room with the television on. With Sam’s hand in his, Michael used his free hand to randomly slam a pillow into Nate’s face. When his little brother squawked about it, he told him, “That’s what you get for being a tattletale.”

Nate made a face at him, but didn’t protest.

Thankfully, the rest of the day was a lot more uneventful and dinner was even good, despite Madeline’s cooking attempts. Shanna and Fi were enough to keep things on track in the kitchen and the stove held up. It was almost nine by the time dessert and coffee had disappeared and cleanup tackled. They were on the road by nine fifteen, Michael driving since Sam had typically had too much.

Sam put an arm over each of their shoulders and said magnanimously, “You can help me upstairs. I am way too mellow to get up there on my own.”

Michael shook his head fondly and they maneuvered him up to the loft and deposited him into the bed. He and Fiona got Sam out of his clothes and then joined him shortly thereafter, Michael in the middle as usual. Sam shifted to spoon up behind him, strong arms automatically wrapping around his waist, while Fiona curled up against his chest, her hair tickling his nose.

It was such a comfortable arrangement that he rarely had trouble falling asleep anymore, but his mind wouldn’t stop after such a crazy day. His family knew about his, well, family and the world hadn’t imploded. He’d honestly thought that telling his mother would result in being cast off and hadn’t realized just how big a worry it had been until now, when it wasn’t there.

Sam’s hand stoked slowly over his belly and he rumbled, “Everything’s fine, Mikey, go to sleep. You’re safe here. We love you.”

Fiona murmured a wordless agreement and he felt their fingers latch together over his hip, the joined hands heavy on him. Letting out a long, slow breath, Michael finally relaxed into sleep knowing that whatever happened, they’d be there for him. It was just the truth.