You need to be home with me Alone with me Holding me next to the Christmas tree Kissing under the mistletoe As candles glow Please come home soon’ It’s not the same without you I was making my list I was checking it twice In the middle of this I got tears in my eyes For in my wishful heart There was one simple truth The only gift I wanted was you For in my wishful heart There was one simple truth The only gift I wanted was you

Christmas! As much as she hated to admit it, Sam was looking forward to today. She volunteered at the 17th Street Homeless Shelter/Mission once a week. Today, she was going to help serve dinner, play with the children, and then help hand out gifts. She also had a special story which she planned to share. They gave her so much more than she gave them. This WAS the true meaning of Christmas.

After showering, feeding Ninja, and eating breakfast, she slipped on a red turtleneck sweater and blue jeans. Running a little late, she decided to check her e-mail when she returned. What could be so urgent that she had to read it on Christmas day? Grabbing her keys, she was just heading out the door when the phone began to ring. Hesitating for a moment, she considered answering it, but figured the machine could get it. She didn’t want to be late.

Arriving at the mission and parking her car, Sam went inside. Immediately mobbed by the children, she was giving hugs and kisses when the director came over.

"Sam, glad to see you. It’s so wonderful that you would give up your Christmas to help us," the director, Mary Jones, gave as a greeting.

"I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be," Sam replied sincerely.

"Children, I need to speak to Sam for a few minutes. If you could please let her go, I’ll return her to you all as soon as possible."

Reluctantly and with some grumbling, the kids released Sam.

"I’ll be in soon, save me a place on the sofa. Okay?" Sam laughed,

When they got into the office, Mary motioned for Sam to sit. After they were both seated, she began. "Sam, I wanted to personally thank you for your very generous donation. Rest assured, it will be put to good use."

"You’re very welcome. Now, what can I do first? I’m at your disposal."

"We have a plan how we want to have things go, but you know from experience that things don’t always run smoothly here. Today is no exception. We’ll be having a celebrity visiting."

‘Oh great,’ Sam thought. ‘A photo op to add to some star’s ego tip.’ Out loud, she said, "Not to be cynical, but is this going to just be a quick in and out with photographs and no real help given? You know how I feel about those."

"No. He’s just going to be accompanied by his bodyguard. No entourage and no photographers."

"That’s refreshing. Who is it?"

"Lance Bass." Mary smiled. "I’m sure you’re heard of him. He asked specifically if you would be here today."

Sam was incredulous. "He did? Why?"

"I don’t know." Mary shrugged her shoulders. "We’ll just have to wait and see. Now, here’s the plan. You can play with the children and then read your story. After that, we’ll serve dinner and then hand out the gifts. The rest of the day, well…we’ll play it by ear."

"Sure." Sam was feeling rather dazed by this point. Life certainly kept throwing her curve balls, and she was striking out…badly. ‘Why does this man keep showing up in my life?’ She momentarily considered coming up with some excuse and leaving, but the thought of disappointing the children was not something she was prepared to do. She’d just have to make the best of it. No more running away!

Sam was in the playroom attempting to play Twister when she heard a commotion in the hallway. ‘He must be here.’ Momentarily distracted, she fell in a heap with children piled on top of her. Lance walked in with Mary and his bodyguard John and saw Sam giggling on the floor as three of the girls were tickling her.

"Stop, stop!" she laughed, trying to catch her breath. "I give up!"

"Alright girls, let her up," Mary interceded.

The girls stopped and Lance walked over and held out his hand to Sam. She hesitated, then took it as he helped her up.

"Good to see you again," Lance said warmly. "I see your mood has improved considerably since last night."

"It must be the company…so much nicer than the other night," Sam answered, a slight edge in her voice.

Releasing her hand, Lance turned as Mary joined them. "What can I do to help? I’m all yours."

"Well, until Sam reads her story, you can just hang out and play with the children. We have a variety of board games and such to choose from. I try and limit their use of video games and TV. It seems to keep things calmer."

"Great! Okay guys, what shall we do?" Lance turned to the kids.

"Twister!"

"Go Fish!"

"Racko!"

"Wait, one at a time," Lance begged good-naturedly, throwing his hands in the air. "I see you’ve been playing Twister. That looks like fun, but I’m warning you I’m not very good at it. My friend JC is much more flexible than I am, and plays a mean game of Twister."

"Sam? Do you want to play with me?"

"No…I think I’ll sit this one out." Sam smiled at his cynically. "Besides, how do I know you’ll play fair? You haven’t in the past."

Lance’s eyes filled with hurt. "I promise, I’ll be good. And…we need to have a talk later."

"That would be a new one. And we’ll see about the talking."

Suddenly realizing that the children were staring at them, Sam stopped. This wasn’t fair to the children. Plus, it wasn’t the reason she was here. Turning to the children, she smiled. "Let’s play Twister!"

After a few minutes, Sam had to admit that she was having fun. Everyone was really getting into it, laughing and giggling. Of course, the fact that she beat Lance soundly was an added bonus.

Mary walked in and got everyone’s attention. "It’s time to take your places and listen to the special story that Sam has written for us."

Sam took her place on the chair that Mary had placed in the center of the room. Lance was sitting on the sofa directly across from her, several of the little girls vying for a place next to him. It was extremely distracting. She tried not to look at him, but damn…he looked good in his green sweater and blue jeans. When had his eyes gotten that gorgeous? His face was still slightly flushed from playing the game.

Clearing her throat, Sam started to read. Within seconds, everyone was caught up and captivated by her storytelling. The story was about a little field mouse who was witness to the Christ Child’s birth in Bethlehem those many years ago. By the time she came to the end, there was not a dry eye in the room.

Lance stood up and quietly applauded. "That was one of most moving and meaningful stories I have ever hear about the Christmas story. Are you going to publish it?"

"I’m not sure yet," Sam answered honestly.

"Well, if you do, I’d like to buy the rights to it for my production company, A Happy Place, and sell it to one of the networks. It has the potential to be a classic like "Frosty the Snowman."

Somewhat taken back, Sam answered cautiously. "Let me think about it, okay?"

"Sure."

Mary stood up. "All right everyone, it’s time for dinner. Children, I want you to go and wash your hands, then line up. Lance, I think I’ll have you help serve the potatoes. Sam, you can serve the corn. John, I think we’ll be needing you at the desert table to make sure everyone only gets one. We’re not going to have what happened at Thanksgiving occur again." She gave the children a stern look. "Are we, children?"

"No, Ma’am," they chorused sheepishly.

Everything went like clock-work, and soon all were served and seated to enjoy their meal. Mary had Sam and Lance sit together. She wasn’t sure what was going on with those two, but it had to be something major that needed to be resolved. She was going to give them every opportunity to work it out and if that didn’t work, she was going to lock them in her office until they talked it out.

Sam was actually having a good time. Lance was telling her concert bloopers and she was laughing so hard she was having trouble eating. Then, it happened. Sally, Mary’s assistant, walked over to Lance and said that a photographer was outside and wanted to take a few pictures.

"What?!" Sam cried indignantly as she stood up. "I thought you weren’t going to have this be a photo op?" Just as abruptly, she sat down. ‘No scene, Sam, no scene!’

Sam leaned over and quietly hissed in his ear. "Let me guess; you’re just an innocent pawn in this game of life. You know nothing about this whatsoever, right?"

"Honest," Lance pleaded. "I don’t!"

"Yeah, right."

Sam whirled on Sally. "Who’s the photographer?"

Sally handed her the photographer’s card. She looked at it, then grinned slyly. ‘I know him. There’s no way Lance is going to weasel out of this one.’ "Where is he?"

Dean Stanton, a photographer for the paper Sam worked for, walked in and over. "Sam, what are you doing here?"

"I volunteer here a lot. Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Not at all. What do you want to know?"

"How long have you had this photo assignment?" ‘Here it comes…’

"Funny thing. I was driving around, looking for some pictures to use for tomorrow’s paper. You know: warm, fuzzy Christmas stuff. I got a call that someone from here had called the Photo Tip Line. So, I drove over to see if I could get a picture."

Lance leaned over. "See, I told you," he whispered to her.

Sam had to admit, it looked good for him. She’d been with him the whole time. So…who’d made the call?

Mary came over, facing Dean. "So, who called you? It wasn’t one of my staff, was it?"

The photographer pulled out a small notebook. "It was a…Andrew James Johnson."

"Andrew!" Mary’s voice was loud and stern. "Could you come here please?"

Andrew, head hung down, slowly walked over to where they were standing. "Yes, Miss Mary?" His voice was barely audible.

"Andrew, did you call this gentleman?"

"Yes, Ma’am. I wanted to use the money from the photo tip to get my Mom something for Christmas." The boy began to tear up. "I’m real sorry."

"You know that what you did was very wrong." Mary’s voice was firm. "First, you used the phone without permission. Secondly, you violated Mr. Bass’ privacy. I want you to go and sit in my office. We’ll talk about this in a few minutes."

"Yes, Ma’am." Andrew slowly shuffled out of the dining room.

Mary turned to Dean. "I’m sorry you were called here under false pretenses, Mr. Stanton. Please accept my apology. Now, if you will please excuse me, I have a little boy to talk to."

Once Mary was gone, Lance spoke up. "I have an idea that might make everyone happy. Sally, how much is a picture of me worth to the Mission?"

Sally thought for a moment. Before she said anything, the pop star leaned close to her. "Just whisper the figure in my ear."

Sally did so. A big smile on his face, Lance turned back. "Here’s what I propose: I’ll let Dean take my picture and run it in the paper. However, he also has to take some others that the Mission can use exclusively for fund-raising." He turned to Sam. "There’s just one catch."

‘Here it comes. His true nature is finally bubbling to the surface.’ "And that would be…?"

"That you, Sam, allow me to publish your book and then produce it for TV. The first year’s proceeds would go toward helping the Mission. What do you say?"

"So…let me get this straight." Sam’s voice had a dangerous tone. "You’ll give the photo rights to the Mission, produce my book, then give the entire first year’s profits to them? So, what’s in it for you? Salve for a guilty conscience?" There was nothing friendly in the smile that graced her lips. "Please forgive my cynicism, but this is just to good to be true."

Lance ran his hands through his hair, exasperated. "What do I have to do to make you trust me?

"Oh, I don’t know. Maybe be humiliated beyond belief, eat glass, and die, you prick."

"Alright, that is!" Mary had come back from talking to Andrew. Overhearing the last part of their conversation, she knew she had to intervene. "Both of you in my office. Now!"

After they were inside, Mary shut the door. "I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve had it. I want you two to resolve this now. Got it?"

"Yes, Ma’am," they answered in unison.

"You’re not leaving here until then. Do I make myself clear?" With that, Mary left them, locking the door as she did so.

Sam stood staring at the floor while Lance picked at the seam of his jeans. After what seemed like an eternity, the latter finally broke the silence. "Well, did you want to go first? Or should I?"

She looked up at him with eyes full of anger and hurt. "Why did you do that to me? I mean, we were never close friends, but I always thought you were different from the rest of the popular kids. You, of all people, were the last person I thought would do such a thing. Then two days ago, I find a package from you in a box of my Grandma’s stuff. None of this makes any sense whatsoever."

Sam was beginning to tear up, but she pressed on. "Do you know how long I’ve hated you for that night? How I couldn’t bring myself to listen to your music when you became famous? How much it hurt seeing you the other night at Stacy’s and then having you act like you had no clue? I just…." The tears she’d been holding back finally began to run down her face.

Lance didn’t say a word. He went to Sam and gently took her in his arms. She stiffened at first against his touch, then just let it out. She cried, sobbing and hitting his chest with her fists. Finally exhausted, she just laid her head on him and shuddered occasionally. He led her over to the sofa and sat her down. When they were seated, he took her chin and raised her face to look at him.

"Sam, after last night, I did some checking up on that night. I called up Jamie Lee and Andrew. Turns out they got married. Anyway, I asked about the ‘End of the Year Dance’. Said I had heard they might have played a prank. They laughed and told me the whole story. Sam, they were behind the whole thing; I never even went to the dance, because I got sick at school. If you don’t believe me, we can call my mom."

Sam looked deep into his eyes and saw the truth revealed there. "I’m so sorry. Please forgive me."

"There’s nothing to forgive." They sat there for several moments, holding each other. After a while, Lance broke the silence. "Can I ask you a favor? I’d love it if you could come home with me to Mississippi for a few days. That is, if you don’t have other plans."

"Why?"

"I have a confession to make. But it’s not really bad…unless, of course, you’re my Mom."

"What did you do?"

"I had a stupid argument with her, so I figured I’d punish her by not coming home for Christmas. She hasn’t been too fond of some of my public antics lately. Then, I read your column and called her to apologize. I’m waiting until tomorrow because I didn’t want to charter a plane and make someone else miss their family on Christmas. Also, I was hoping to get you to come with me."

"Why me? That makes no sense…"

"Ever since last night, you’re all I could think of. I met your ex-fiancée and had the overwhelming urge to punch him in the face."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, he has that effect on most people."

"Anyway, will you come home with me? My family would love to see you again.

"But I don’t have anything to bring. And I don’t want to impose. Then there’s the problem of Ninja…I can’t leave her alone. I’d have no house when I came back. And work - "

Lance laughed. "Sam, you can bring Ninja. And your work is anywhere your laptop is. Besides…the only gift I want for Christmas is you."

"What?" Sam shook her head. "This is creepy."

"How so?"

"Remember Mr. Hastings?"

"Yeah."

"Well, remember how he used to say there are no coincidences in the world? That everything happens for a reason?"

"Sure, vaguely. His class was always so boring."

"Well, the other night when I was having such a hard time writing my column, the song "The Only Gift" came on the radio. The next day, when I was grocery shopping, it played in the store. Then it was playing when I drove over here. I couldn’t get away from that song. And now you’ve showed up here."

"Actually, I asked Stacy for your phone number. But when I called this morning, all I got was the machine."

"You realize, don’t you, that you being at Stacy and Ted’s party was a set-up? She thought since we were both from Mississippi, we’d be perfect for each other."

"Yeah, I kind figured that. So, back to the original question. Will you come home with me?"

"Yes. I’ve been away too long. It’s time to face my past."

"I’m glad."

Just then, the door opened and Mary walked in. "I hope that everything has been resolved to everyone’s complete satisfaction, because we can’t wait any longer."

They both looked at her in confusion.

"The photographer is waiting for his photos, the kids want to show you their gifts, and they have a surprise for Sam. So let’s get a move on."

Mary turned and headed out the door, a big smile on her face. She had noted they were sitting on the sofa, holding hands. Although Sam looked like she had been crying, Mary had a good vibe about this. ‘Thank you, Lord.’

Lance and Sam got up and headed towards the door. As they walked into the playroom, the children grabbed Sam and sat her in the chair in the middle of the room. Then they told Lance to stand at the place on honor in the archway. Looking confused, he shrugged his shoulders and did as they asked.

After Sam was seated, they brought her over a big wrapped box and placed it on her lap. Standing around, they watched as she carefully unwrapped the gift. When she pulled back the tissue, she gasped. Inside was a scrapbook. Opening it, she saw that they had made pictures, written stories, poems, all sorts of creations. It was so beautiful and so heartfelt she started to cry.

"Please, don’t cry." Anisa, one of the girls held her hand. "We made this for you to be happy."

Sam drew her close. "These are happy tears."

Just then, Tamara grabbed her hands and Jake took the scrapbook as they pulled her to her feet. They dragged her over to where Lance was standing. Tamara laughed. "Now you have to kiss him."

"What?!"

"You have to kiss him, because he’s standing under the mistletoe. It’s a law." Tamara’s voice was serious.

Lance and Sam looked at each other, then glanced back at the room where everyone was waiting expectantly. Lance sighed. "Well, we can’t disappoint our public." He leaned over a gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Boo! Boo!" Some of the kids were clearly not impressed. "Give her a real kiss! That’s the kind of kiss our moms give us!"

Lance reached over and took Sam in his arms, drawing her to him. He lifted her chin with his hand and leaned forward. Closing her eyes, she felt his lips gently touch hers. The kiss was soft and sweet. She was starting to draw back when she heard more jeering. "C’mon! You guys can do better than that!"

She realized that the voice was Mary’s. Smiling, Sam took her arms and put them around his neck, deepening the kiss. It was indescribable.

"Alright! Woo-hoo!" Lance and Sam turned to see every body smiling and laughing.

Leaning forward, Sam whispered in his ear. "You realize, of course, that we’ve been set up again?"

"I know." Lance brushed her nose with his. "And I’m loving it."

Mary clapped to get everyone’s attention. "Okay, enough of this. We have other things to do."

Lance and Sam stood, watching scene before them. This Christmas was turning out to be the best they’d ever had.

As the children were getting out their gifts and starting to play, Lance pulled Sam back under the mistletoe. Before kissing her again, he whispered in her ear. "You know, it really is true; the only gift I want for Christmas is you."

The End - Fini