Disclaimer: I do not own Skinwalkers nor its characters. They belong to LGF, After Dark, and whoever else screwed the movie up.

Note: Requested Christmas fic.

Gift Exchange

"Would you like to open one of your presents early?"

He isn't sure what came over him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he wants to take them back. He knows which one she'll go for - "Why, Jonas, this is a rather small present," she teases - and his stomach is in knots. He'd been hoping it would get lost in the chaos of Christmas morning, just another present to add to the pile.

Then he had to go and say something; flirt with disappointment and heartache over such a silly thing.

Her eyes light up; she's barely more than a child, this young mother and widow. "I'm not too old?" she asks. She's half-joking, but Jonas can hear the slight tremble, every woman's instinctive worry.

He knows he should say yes. He knows he should say he was joking, that she's old enough to wait until the actual morning of Christmas day. But he stares into her hopeful, hazel eyes, and he can't stop this. He smiles, but there's a hidden tremble in his fisted hands. "Go on, it's Christmas eve."

She dives in with all the gusto her three year old son did just a few minutes earlier. She searches for the present she's wanted to open since she saw it - the one he so desperately hopes she can't find. There's an excited shout - eureka! She's found it!

Jonas braces himself.

Rachel stands back up, holding the tiny, neatly wrapped package in her fingers. Her eyes lift to look at Jonas briefly, a curious smile on her face. There's a quirk to one eyebrow, and she looks so young, so childlike - so innocent and carefree, and Jonas couldn't think of a greater present.

But the knot in his stomach tightens when her fingers begin ripping the paper. It doesn't take long for her to rip all of the paper off, just a few good tugs and the box is free.

It's the moment of truth, and it takes all of his willpower to resist the urge to grab the box from her. Thoughts run through his head, a million at a time; What if she doesn't like it? What if it insults her? What if it disappoints her? What if it hurts her? What if she gets angry? What if she cries?

The worst is, What if it ruins her Christmas?

Rachel glances up at him again briefly. That curious smile still on her face. "You got me jewelry, Jonas?" She doesn't give him the chance to answer, her fingers are already opening the velvet box.

Jonas wants to close his eyes and hide. He somehow stays still and keeps his eyes open. He'd been at a loss since September over what to get her. He always is. He's never been able to figure out what material objects she wants, but then her face lights up - the worry, the fear, the knot in his stomach all fade away.

He knows he's done something right.

Her fingers gently, delicately hold the open locket. Her thumb caresses the picture - taken only a few years back and yet so long ago - and the smile on her face is wide and bright. There's a shine to her eyes, and he almost feels the knot come back.

"Thank you, Jonas," she whispers. Her shining eyes meet his again and she takes the steps necessary to wrap her arms around him tightly; as if her very life depended on it. "Thank you so much. It's beautiful."

Jonas closes his eyes and breathes her in. His arms return the tight embrace; he was wrong seconds ago. He has gotten a greater present. And it doesn't even hurt, the knowledge that she's staring at a small picture of her wedding day to another man - my own brother, my own, damn brother - over his shoulder, in the tiny locket he himself bought her.