"Wait…Mackenzie-kun? Why are the gypsies here?"

Mackenzie Fraser turned toward the stage door. It was the day before Christmas, his show about to go on in a few hours, and there, in the doorway, stood the mental street performer Psymon Stark, and the French Jean-Paul Arsenault, the local gypsy captain.

"What do you two want?" sighed Mac.

"Constructive criticism," said Psymon, giving a creepy grin as he pushed past Mac.

Mac let out a frustrated sigh, making the Japanese costume girl, Kaori Nishidake, to look at him in concern.

"JP?"

"Hm? Oh, Marisol needed my help with something."

"She's not here yet."

"Then I shall wait here."

The blond man sat down on a white box, smudging it due to the dirt on his patchwork pants.

"Get off of that!" commanded Mac, grabbing JP's red shirt and yanking hard.

JP was lighter than Mac expected, for easily came tumbling from the box, barreling into the younger man.

"OW! Sacre bleu!"

"HEY! Get off!"

With his short temper, the young composer started wrestling with the poor man readily. None of the other people around gave them a second look, since this was practically a weekly thing for them. Even though the shouts were loud and the props were getting knocked over, everyone kept about their business, kept rehearsing for the Christmas performance, knowing that Mac and JP would sort it out in a minute.

The fight ended with the gypsy man pinning the young composer to the floor, arms behind his back, face squashed against the floor, his legs pinned by JP's knee.

"I win, Fraser," he said, Mac hearing the smirk in the Frenchman's voice.

"Let me up," said Mac with difficulty.

The 25-year-old stood, letting go of Mac's hands only to take one of them again, helping his opponent up.

"Sorry, I've gotten your clothes dirty," said the usually haughty blond.

"Yes, yes, you did." Mac sighed. "It's fine, I've got more in one of the dressing rooms. You can have these; they're too big, anyhow."

JP's mouth turned up in a happy smile, his brown eyes twinkling with pleasure. For a moment, while Mac's back was to him, he debated with himself.

"'Ey, Mac?"

"Yes?"

"Uh…nothing…"

Silently, still debating, he followed Mac to the dressing room and waited outside it, listening to Psymon terrorizing the various workers and cast-members. He chuckled to himself and both his new decision and the scream Psymon had just elicited from Kaori.

"JP, here's those clothes. Merry Christmas."

"Merci."

The two walked in silence back to the door, where Psymon sat in a corner.

"AH-HAH! SHOWTIME!" he yelled, making JP and Mac stop in their tracks. "Mistletoe!"

Now surrounded by people, JP and Mac looked up.

"You guys SUCK," said Mac, moving away.

"Ah-ah-ahh, Mac! Rules!" said Psymon, pushing Mac back towards the gypsy.

Mac made a face and JP blushed.

"Psymon won't let us leave," stated JP. "Should we just…get it over with?"

Mac sighed loudly and nodded.

"LIPS!" yelled Psymon with a cackle.

Just because it lasted less than a second, it doesn't mean Kaori didn't squeal.