He cringes at the sight of the Christmas tree. Christmas no longer holds any meaning for him, not since the passing of his mother. It is a social obligation, nothing more.

He glances out across the newly fallen snow and takes a sip of his scotch. If it snows harder, then he can use it as an excuse not to go to the Christmas Party.

“There is a Miss Kent at the door,” a servant announces and bows his head ever so slightly, waiting for a response.

“You may send her in,” he replies with a sigh of annoyance, not really in the mood for any holiday cheer.

A moment later she strolls through the door, stopping momentarily to study the pristine Christmas tree.

“Nice tree,” she smiles as she reaches out, her fingers grazing against the ornaments of glass. She turns to Lex and cocks an eyebrow, “For some reason, I thought you wouldn’t put up a tree.”

“You’re right,” he states dryly as he crosses over to her and flicks a heavily decorated branch. She gasps as a bulb crashes to the floor. “My father’s idea, he shipped it over the other day.”

“It is beautiful,” she sighs in awe as she studies the tree, noticing a pattern emerge from the branches. “It’s the first day of Christmas.”

“As in ‘A Partridge in a Pear Tree’?” He muses as he looks up and studies the tree, “I don’t see it.”

“See?” She laughs as she takes his hand into hers. “These,” she whispers, cupping his hand and allowing him to touch a fragile, glass ornament. “Are the pears-“ she explains. “Notice that there are three varieties; small silver pears, medium gold pears, and large platinum pears.”

“Nothing but the best,” he scoffs as she rolls her eyes. “Then where’s the partridge?” He questions as she points up and for the first time he realizes that there is no angel on top, instead it’s a bird- a partridge to be exact. “Ah, so it is.”

“Yes, it is.” She beams as she hands him over a small bag of home baked goodies. “A special delivery from Martha’s Kitchen.”

“Ah,” he chuckles as he takes the bag from her hand. He hisses slightly at the unexpected spark that spreads though him, when their hands touch once more. He chides himself, knowing that there could be no future between them- after all; she’s still a minor.

“I better go,” she whispers, pulling her hand away. “I still have a few more deliveries,” she explains and head out the door.

“Hudson,” He calls after her. “Be careful.”

She nods and then disappears around the corner. He places the bag on the desk and crosses over to the window, gazing out once more. Only this time he hopes to catch a glimpse of his Christmas angel.

He watches her get into the truck and drive off; he sighs and glances up at the tree. He can’t help but smile as he remembers the in awe in her eyes her and the simple touch of her hand.

“On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me-“ he finds himself singing. “A partridge in a pear tree.”

The end.