"Is this your idea of a joke then?"

Chris Keel gave his partner a look of sultry innocence.

"What?"

"Bunny slippers?"

"I thought they were you."

Sam Curtis gave him a scathing look. "If I believed for one second that you seriously thought of me and bunny slippers in the same breath Keel, I'd be straight into Malone asking to be assigned to a new partner. One who's not quite so deranged."

"Just think of slipping your feet into a nice comfy pair of slippers after a hard day chasing bad guys."

Sam just stared at him before his eyes narrowed dangerously. "This is because of what I got you for your birthday, isn't it."

Keel attempted to look wounded, failing miserably as he struggled to contain a laugh. "I have no idea what you mean, Sam."

"You're still sore about Tigger!"

Now it was Keel's turn to look dangerous, as his friend struggled to contain his mirth. "For the last time, Curtis, I do not *bounce*! I don't care what weird ideas you and Backup come up with when the pair of you are on stakeout!"

"I told you - it was one of those three o'clock in the morning conversations. We were just trying to match CI5 agents to cartoon characters, and you and Tigger... well, need I say more?"

Keel scowled. "I... do... not... bounce!"

When Sam had finally finished laughing, he gave Chris a considering look. "Tiggers don't just bounce you know."

"They don't?"

"No. As I recall, there's a fair bit of pouncing in there too."

"Really?"

Chris returned the considering look, before deciding what the hell, it was Christmas, and if you couldn't go Tigger at Christmas...

Some time later, two hot, sweaty and satisfied CI5 agents lay curled up together on the couch. "You going to open your other presents?" asked Keel sleepily.

"Not sure I dare," replied Curtis, pulling his partner closer.

"Hmm, maybe not just yet then..." murmured Keel, as his partner nibbled on his neck. "That's nice." He was drifting off to sleep before the the ripping of wrapping paper followed by a distinctly Christmassy musical sound dragged him back from the edge of unconsciousness.

"Socks," muttered Curtis in his ear, sounding rather disgusted. "Socks that play 'Jingle Bells." Keel muffled his snigger against his lover's chest. "Wrong tune though."

"What?" murmured Keel drowsily. "What tune should it be?"

"Why what else?" asked Curtis innocently. "The wonderful thing about Tiggers..."