The Christmas Kiss

Disclaimer:  I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein.  I receive no compensation or any other tangible benefit from this story.  I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then.  🙂

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Author's Note:  Special thanks to Renata, my "forever fan," who suggested that I write a Christmas story.  This is what the gang gave me.

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It was Christmas Eve.

Jim and the four younger members of his team had gathered at Jim's condo for what had become somewhat of a holiday tradition: meeting at midday for heavy hors d'oeuvres and fellowship before celebrating with their families.

The five teammates had spent the past hour eating, laughing, talking, and sharing memories.  Afterwards, they had drifted back into the room they typically used for their briefings.

Nicholas and Shannon sat side by side on the familiar black leather couch, engrossed in conversation and thoroughly oblivious to everything else around them.  Jim set his wine glass down and disappeared up the stairs, headed for the restroom.  Grant had been standing idly by waiting for the perfect opportunity.  Seeing it, he quickly rushed to catch up with Max, who had started toward the kitchen for more food.

"Hey, buddy," Grant said in a stage whisper.

Max turned around.  "What is it, Grant?"

"Look what I've got," the Black agent smiled.  As Max watched, Grant reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small sprig of mistletoe, attached to a string and a small hook.

Max's lips curled into a lazy grin.  "What are you going to do with that?" he asked, keeping his baritone voice as low as he possibly could.

"Watch.". Grant tiptoed behind the couch, reached up, and swiftly slid the hook onto the edge of the pedestal lamp sitting nearby.  Then he scooted the lamp close to the back of the couch until the mistletoe was hanging perfectly above Shannon's head.

As Grant shuffled back to the place where he'd previously been standing, and Jim appeared on the stairs, Nicholas perceived that something was amiss, looked up, and made eye contact with Grant.

"What's going on?" he asked, his slight smile reflecting his suspicion.

Grant, still grinning, glanced upward, and all four teammates followed his eyes until their own rested on the small green plant hanging just above them.

"Well, what do you know," drawled Max, clapping a hand on Grant's shoulder, as Jim looked on in mild amusement.  "Mistletoe."

"Looks like you're going to have to kiss her, pal," advised Grant.

Nicholas lowered his eyes until they locked with Shannon's.  "So it does," he smiled warmly, and he planted a gentle kiss on Shannon's right cheek as everyone else watched.

"Nicholas," Grant said, winking at Max, "you're going to have to do better than that, man.  It's Christmas.  It's tradition."

Nicholas cleared his throat nervously and looked once again into the blue eyes of his pretty teammate, who looked just as nervous.  He forced a sigh.  "Yes, well, I suppose we mustn't break tradition," he said in a half-whisper.

"No," she returned in the same tone, "I suppose not."

Then, slowly, the two friends drew closer until their lips met - a chaste moment at first.  But before either of them could stop what was happening, they each felt the kiss go deeper - though neither could say which of them was taking the lead.

For a moment, they lost track of both time and the fact that three pairs of eyes were upon them.  Shannon draped her arm across Nicholas' shoulders, and the dark-haired agent's fingers got lost in Shannon's dark brown hair.

After a long and somewhat uncomfortable moment, one of the spectators cleared his throat - no one was really sure which one.  Nicholas and Shannon suddenly remembered where they were, and hastily broke the kiss. Nicholas smiled softly, while Shannon lowered her eyes demurely, her cheeks a very faint shade of pink.

Max let out a loud whistle.  Grant grinned and opened his mouth to make a comment; before he could get a word out, Shannon quickly got to her feet, reached up, and grasped the mistletoe off the nearby lamp.

"I think this has caused enough trouble for one night," she said breezily, without looking at anyone.

"I think it's time for a toast,"  suggested Jim, a bit awkwardly.  Nicholas reached over and picked up the two wine glasses off the coffee table.  He handed Shannon's to her, with a slight smile, and she took it without meeting his eyes.

"To us." Jim began wistfully, "working together to make the world a better place.  To remembering old friends...."

The teammates grew somber as each of their thoughts settled momentarily on Casey, who'd been taken from them only a few months before.

"....and welcoming new ones," he continued, smiling fondly at Shannon.  "I am grateful for each one of you, and I couldn't ask for a better team."

"To us," Grant echoed, and then the others followed suit as they clinked their glasses together. 

Then an awkward silence seemed to fall upon the group, and each of them knew the time had come to disperse.  While none of the team members had spouses or children, all had extended family or close friends with whom they were planning to spend the rest of the evening.

Shannon was the first to set down her glass and pick up her coat.  "Well, I'm off to my sister's," she sighed.

"I need to get going, too," Nicholas chimed in.  "I'll walk you out."

The two agents bid goodbye and Merry Christmas to Jim and Max with handshakes and hugs.  As they turned toward Grant, his face held a solemn expression.

"About the mistletoe," he offered, "I was just having a little fun.  I'm sorry if I embarrassed you guys."

Shannon reached out and gave Grant a soft hug.  "It's all right, Grant, really." As she withdrew from his embrace, she smiled shyly at Nicholas.  "It was...nice."

"Yes," Nicholas agreed softly.  "Very nice."  Then he gripped Grant's hand in a firm shake and added a fond shoulder slap, and he and Shannon made their way to her car.

As Nicholas opened the car door for his friend, she hesitated slightly before giving him a warm hug. "Merry Christmas, Nicholas."

"Merry Christmas, Shannon," he returned, grasping her hand and kissing it gently.  Then she slid behind the wheel of her white Lexus, and Nicholas closed the door and watched as she drove away.

*******

Once Shannon was out of sight, Nicholas climbed into his BMW and headed towards his apartment.  He'd invited some acting friends over for Christmas Eve dinner, and there would be just enough time to prepare the meal he'd planned before the first of them would be arriving.  Nicholas tried to set his mind on all the things he would need to do in the kitchen once he got home.

But getting Shannon, and that kiss, out of his head wasn't as easy as he thought.

Just a Christmas kiss between good friends under the mistletoe.  That's what Nicholas kept telling himself.    Yet it took extraordinary effort for him to concentrate on his cooking.  And occasionally, little things would happen, like a kitchen timer going off or a saucepan boiling over, that caused him to jump out of his skin because his mind was elsewhere.

Once his friends arrived, it was a little easier to get lost in good food and warm conversation, and not think about what had happened just a few hours before.  But eventually, one by one, his company had said goodbye.

Now, as the clock struck midnight, Nicholas found himself in bed, lying on his back with his fingers intertwined behind his head, thinking once again of Shannon and wondering how things would be between them the next time they were together.

*******

Shannon shivered slightly as she guided her car towards home, but it wasn't entirely due to the cold.  She, too, had been distracted all evening; her sister Pat had chided her for being a million miles away, ultimately chalking things up to "man troubles.". She'd begged Shannon to spend the night - it was already after eleven - but Shannon had politely refused, saying she had a lot of things to take care of the next day.  So she'd said goodbye to her older sister and headed out, with Nicholas heavy on her mind.

Even from their very first mission together, when the team had lost Casey, Shannon and Nicholas had quickly become close friends.  It was the sort of bond where each one knew exactly what to expect from the other.  Besides, they were professionals; even if the mission at hand called for them to play a more intimate role, there were certain boundaries they would never think of crossing.

But suddenly, tonight, that innocuous kiss under the mistletoe had changed something.  Suddenly, the woman who'd found the dark-haired agent's presence so comfortable before, grew nervous at the thought of facing him again.

As Shannon approached the side road that would take her back to her apartment on the outskirts of the city, she flipped on her turn signal.  But as she drew closer, she realized that she wasn't going to be able to rest.  She had to talk to Nicholas.  They had to work through this, before the next mission.

She flipped the blinker off and continued straight.  She glanced at the illuminated digital clock in the dashboard.  It was nearly midnight, but Shannon had a funny feeling Nicholas was still awake, too.

*******

The first time he heard the knock at the door, Nicholas thought he was imagining things.  But then it came again, a little harder this time, and he knew better.  But who in blazes could be knocking at this hour? he wondered, as he rolled out of bed and shuffled down the stairs.

He took a quick look through the peephole, and his stomach came up in his throat.  He opened the door.

"Shannon!" he greeted.  "What are you....?" he began, but then a sudden gust of winter wind blew against them. 

"Never mind that," he said dismissively, opening the door wider.  "Come on in.  It's chilly out."

Shannon obliged gratefully, trying to ignore the warmth of Nicholas' hand touching her waist as he ushered her inside.  He took her coat and hung it on the rack as he flipped on the hallway light.

"Can I get you something?" he offered, uncharacteristically flustered.  "Make you some coffee?"

"No, thank you," Shannon replied softly, as she sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion beside her.  "Just come sit with me.  We need to talk."

Nicholas sighed heavily and obeyed her request.  "Yes, we do."

Shannon reached over and took her teammate's hand in her own. "You're nervous, too," she observed.  He offered no resistance to her taking his hand, but she hadn't been surprised to feel it trembling slightly, and she knew he could feel hers doing the same.

"A little," he admitted.  "That was some kiss, earlier."

"It sure was," Shannon agreed quietly. "I hope I wasn't too...forward...with you."

"I was afraid of the same thing," Nicholas told her.  Then he paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words.  "Kissing you brought forth...feelings in me that I'd never realized were there before."

Shannon's eyes shone like sapphires, and as Nicholas looked closer, he could see the truth staring back at him.  "And I'm guessing it did the same for you."

She nodded, then bit her lip thoughtfully before letting out a small sigh.  "So what do you suggest we do about it?"

Nicholas reached up with his free hand and gently touched her cheek, his eyes liquid pools of brown.  "Shannon," he whispered, "I am incredibly attracted to you, and I realize now that I always have been."

He allowed his finger to gently brush her lips.  "But as much as I'd love to be with you, you know as well as I do that it would never work right now.  Not while we're both a part of this team."

"It's happened before," she reminded him, and he knew that she was referring to Rollin and Cinnamon, from the team that had blazed their trail twenty years before.

"That's true," Nicholas conceded, his voice low, "but Jim wasn't their first team leader.  When he came on board, it was clear that he didn't approve of their relationship, but by then there was nothing he could do about it.". He squeezed her hand once again.  "It wouldn't be that way for us."

"No, you're right," Shannon concurred reluctantly. "And if we tried to sneak around, it's only a matter of time until we'd get caught.  You know how Jim is.  The man has eyes in the back of his head.". She paused, and Nicholas nodded his agreement.  "And then we'd be forced to choose between our relationship and the team."

"I'm not sure either of us is ready to make that choice just yet," Nicholas said gently, squeezing her shoulder, and Shannon reluctantly recognized the wisdom of his words.  She sighed heavily.

"So," she ventured quietly, "is this going to change things between us?"

"It doesn't have to, Shannon," Nicholas assured her.  He studied her features carefully, and noticed the lingering doubt in her eyes.  "Why do you ask?"

"I've always been very... relaxed... around you," she said, with a nervous giggle and averting her gaze, "but now I seem to have picked up a permanent case of butterflies."

Nicholas knew exactly what she meant - in fact, he felt very similar.  But Shannon was one of his best friends.  The compulsion to put her mind at ease was almost too much for him to bear.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable about being with me, Shannon," he told her, his voice husky.  "I would never do anything to hurt you."

"I know you wouldn't, Nicholas," she smiled, reaching up to caress his cheek.  In so doing, she caught sight of the illuminated clock on the stove just inside Nicholas' kitchen.  It was nearing one a.m.

"Gosh, look at the time," she said hastily, standing up.  "I'd better get home."

"You could stay here tonight," Nicholas suggested, as he also got to his feet.

Shannon raised an eyebrow, a suggestive grin slowly crossing her lips.  "Do you really think that's a good idea?" she whispered.

"Probably not," Nicholas shrugged, "but neither is driving this late at night, and I do have a guest room upstairs."

He reached for her, grasped her hand, and led her up the stairs to the second floor.  She did not resist; in truth, she was mentally and physically exhausted.

When they reached the door of the guest room, Shannon paused and turned to face her teammate.

"The door locks from the inside," Nicholas advised her softly, leaving the rest of the thought hanging in the air.

"Perhaps you'd better lock yours, too," she returned in the same tone.

"Good night, Shannon."  Nicholas planted a gentle kiss on his companion's cheek.  "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she answered, as she closed - and locked - the door behind her.

The End :)

(c) 2019

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Author's Note:  There is an alternative version to this story, called The Christmas Revelation.  It is a slash story.  If you are interested, you can find it here.