Title: Flack's Night Before Christmas
By: A.S. Kessler
Pairing: Danny/Don
Rating: PG-13
Dedication: To Top41, for her excellent as usual Beta
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own it. Not making any money on it. Just for fun.
Summary: T'was the night before Christmas... with a twist. Flack's twist.

***

T'was the night before Christmas and all thru the 'hood,
Not a creature was stirring, not even Tanglewood.
The stockings were hung in the crime lab with care,
In the hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The CSI's were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of fingerprints danced in their heads.
And Stella in her nightgown and Mac asleep with his book,
Had just settled down; it was the first break they'd took.

Lindsay dreamt dreams of Montana's blue sky,
And Sheldon dreamt he'd caught his last perp in a lie.
Adam's list of tech toys reached clear to the floor,
And Sid the coroner closed the last morgue drawer.

I was at Danny's; crashed out at his pad,
The city seemed quiet, but I think we'd been had.
When out on the fire escape there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a grenade,
Tore open the curtains and threw up the shade.
The city lights shining on the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of midday to objects below.

When, what to my jaded eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it had to be St. Nick.

More rapid than Concord his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen!
On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the building, to the top of the wall,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"

And then in a twinkling, I heard overhead,
The banging and bumping of the neighbor's bed.
As I reached for my pistol and was turning around,
Thru the rear window St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur from his head to his feet,
And his clothes were all covered in salt from the street.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a street vendor opening his pack.

I'd given some thought to making the bust,
But behind me was the object of my lust.
I let Santa go from breaking the law,
After all was said, who'd believe what I saw?

He took not a thing but left us cool stuff,
By this time I thought I'd had quite enough.
"Psst, Santa," I said. "Be careful out there.
This city is full of crime and despair."

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
"I know that detective, being here is a treat.
You and your colleagues make this city complete.

I'm bringing you Kevlar to help you fight crime;
It's not an armored tank - maybe next time."
Then he laid a finger aside of his nose,
Gave me a nod, and left out the window he chose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And they all flew away like the down of a thistle.
As I watched him take off, his spirit alive,
I heard him vow to be back for season five.

(This poem was totally butchered from 'The Night Before Christmas' by Clement Clarke Moore. My apologies for the version but I couldn't resist.)

***