She was far too silent. He glanced down at her, snuggled so peacefully within the circle of his arm, and chuckled to himself to notice how even her breathing was. Oh, so you have also discovered what an exhausting business love can be? he thought. He kissed the top of her head. "Olivia?"

"I was just thinking," she defended herself, her voice drowsy. "Only a ninny would sleep at a time like this."

"And what were you thinking?" He had made a pleasant discovery of his own: he never would have thought that such wondrous hair could be so soft. He kissed her head again.

"I was merely enjoying the oddest phenomenon, James," she told him. "How is it possible that when I am lying here with you, I have the feeling that no one in the world has ever experienced such wonder?"

He laughed. "Do you think this is worth a scientific study?"

He felt her laughter, even though he did not hear it. "I think not, my love," she told him, "although I do antic.i.p.ate any number of excellent collaborations with you." She sighed. "James, for being no Christmas for you, and a worrisome one for me, this is the best Christmas."

How peaceful this is, he thought as his eyes started to close. I could tell you that scientists should not deal in absolutes at this stage of the hypothesis, particularly since I have the wonderful suspicion that our Christ-mases will only get better each year. "I love you, Olivia," he said instead, and he knew with a conviction that left him almost breathless, that this was an indisputable absolute.

end.