Del had ten minutes between shifts to make magic happen. She hustled back to her compartment, only slowing for the passing patrols so they didn't stop her on suspicion. She had done some serious trading for this, both for the gift and the wrapping 'paper', but it would be worth it to see the look and Nic's face.

It had been five years since they managed any proper sort of Christmas, when the bio zone hit crisis levels of supply shortages. Everything was strictly rationed, food, water, air, living space. Nothing superfluous, nothing without purpose. Christmas was a celebratory luxury they couldn't afford, but it wasn't like Del could forget it. She remembered the extravagance of her childhood, or what felt like an extravagance at the time, her mother putting up the tree, baking 2 dollar sugar cookie mix while Del and her brother decorated the tree. Cheap plastic ornaments, a fake tree they used every year. Her mother would scrimp and save from her job at the grocer's to buy them a couple nice gifts a piece and she wrapped them with care.

That was in the Before, before the eruptions and choking cloud cover. Before her mother left for work one day and never came back. Del pushed the thoughts aside. It was her and Nic now, and they were going to have Christmas dammit. She'd traded three rations a week for this, and the missed meals were worth it.

She made it to the compartment without incident with eight minutes to spare, prying up the loose metal plate to retrieve her little secrets. She worked quickly, wrapping the gift in the faded newspaper she'd traded one of her hand knit pieces for. Who would have guessed knitting would be considered such a useful skill at the end of the world. But it was, just like so many of the 'leisure' hobbies of the Before, gardening, crafting, these were now the skills they needed. Her brother used to keep an herb garden for his kitchen, which paved his way as one of the greenhouse wardens. Skills meant you were useful for the bio-zone, kept your name out of the culling lotteries. Del could knit, crochet, and sew. Nic could coax wilted plants back to life until the artificial UV lights. That usefulness meant they were awarded the occasional break, enough for Del to take advantage of the bio-zone's thriving black market.

She sat back on her heels and admired her handiwork with a small smile. It was impossible to get her hands on something like scotch tape, but she'd found gum stuck under the stairs, left by some careless idiot in the Before. She'd chipped it free and taken it home, working it to useable consistency to glue the paper wrapping down. Waste not, want not, it was the motto for survival in the bio-zone.

Still smiling, she tucked the little package back under the panel, sliding it in place as she hustled back to her shift. She had at least three more commissions for winter blankets to tackle today. They were predicting an even harsher winter than last year, and with fuel rations tighter than ever, they needed all the extra layers she and her team could manage.

Del worked until her fingers were sore and cramped, squinting in the low light to finish two more rows of stitch work.

"Come on, Del, you'll work yourself right through the rationing," coaxed Jan, a fellow knitter a few years older than Del. The older woman lost both children and her husband before she made it to the bio-zone but managed to keep her warmth and strength intact.

Del didn't know what she'd do without Nic. She did set down her project. She needed rations today, too many missed meals left her feeling a bit dizzy as she stood and followed the others to the line. It didn't take her long to notice who was missing.

"Where's Nic?"

"That fool boy probably got lost in the pruning again," muttered Jan. Del bit her lip, it wasn't like Nic could afford to miss a meal either and he worked harder than anyone she knew.

She worried her lip bloody watching the door for him, but he didn't appear by the time she reached the counter. Del leaned in through the window.

"Is there anyway I could get another meal for my brother?"

The older man behind the counter looked at her, exhaustion etched in every line of his face. "You know the rules, Del," he said, sliding her tray across the counter. "Return your tray to the designated facility in the morning."

She wanted to argue that it was Christmas eve, but that was a moot point. Rules were rules, and she didn't want to get the old man into trouble. She would just split her portion with Nic, that's all. Del glanced down at the tray and smiled. The old fellow had slipped a couple extra samosas her tray.

Del stopped by their compartment on her way to the greenhouse, retrieving her gift. It wasn't quite Christmas yet, but close enough. Besides, she needed to see some true happiness today, her thoughts heavy with memory.

She found him kneeling in the potatoes. Nic had a knack for root vegetables, and they were one of the easier crops to coax out of the greenhouse. He didn't glance up as she entered, digging and sifting. She could probably grow a half dozen plants from the constant dirt under his fingernails.

"I've brought you dinner," she said, setting the present in one of the empty compartment of the tray. She eased on a nearby bench, nonchalantly nibbling a bread roll as she waited for her brother to finish up. She'd nearly finished her roll when Nic sat back on his heels with a sigh, leaving a smudge of dirt across his brow as he wiped the sweat away.

He gave her a tired smile. "What's for dinner?"

"Why don't you go see?" She winked at him, popping the last of the roll into her mouth.

Nic half crawled to the bench. She tried to ignore the way his hands shook from exhaustion or how dreadfully thin he was. This was life, such as it was. He snagged one of the cold samosas, biting into it before he noticed the package.

"What's this?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full. Open it after you eat."

He handed her the other one. "You eat too, Delilah," he ordered her. She pushed it back to him.

"I already ate one," she lied. "Besides, you skip too many meals."

He frowned at her, but he must have been too hungry to argue, a thought that made her heart ache.

"There's something I want to show you," he said, glancing around the room as he finished his second samosa. "But you can't tell anyone."

She raised a brow. "Who would I even tell? Aren't you going to open your gift first?"

"Nope, you must bow to my whims," said Nic, grinning as he rose and beckoned her to follow. She pursed her lips and snagged the gift, wondering what foolery her brother was up to now. He lead her through the lows green rows of growing things, the steamy air thick with the scents of dirt and plant decay, until they reached one of the old storage rooms at the back of the greenhouse. Nic retrieved a key from around his neck, unlocking the door. He kept the lights off as he led her inside, shutting and locking the door behind them. She listened to him fumbling around in the dark, frowning at how much cooler the room was than the rest of the greenhouse. The unmistakable sound of a match being struck and the biting whiff of sulfur were chased by the soft warm glow of the camping lantern hanging from the ceiling.

The store room was surprisingly clean, there were even a couple frayed blankets spread over worn wooden pallets. She wondered if this was Nic's personal hideaway, where he crashed on the nights he didn't come home.

Then she noticed the tree.

"Oh my god," she murmured, sinking to her knees in front of the terracotta pot. With reverence, she reached for the branches, running her fingers along the stiff waxy needles. "How did you...how could you...oh Nic, you could get in so much trouble for this."

She wanted to sob and laugh, caught between the urge to hug him and hit him. She wasn't kidding when she said he could get in trouble for this. The council would consider it a waste of resources. The tree had no other purpose than being a tree and there were already a strictly sanctioned number of trees in the bio-zone. It barely topped three feet, if that, and she wondered when he'd found the time to grow it, let alone the seeds, but as she stroked the needles her mind swam with memories of Christmas cookies and carefully wrapped presents.

"You should open your gift," she said, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat. She didn't look away from the tree at the sounds of tearing paper, too enraptured by the sight of it. She smiled at Nic's intake of breath.

"I might ask the same questions of you," he said. "Where did you find such a treasure?"

"One of the scavengers found it on a routine combing," she said. Another lie, but a little one, one that didn't matter as Nic stood beside her and placed the little plastic angel ornament on the tree. The paint was chipped. The tree was too small, branches bending from such a slight weight.

"Merry Christmas," said Nic, hugging her shoulders.

"Merry Christmas, brother." Del thought it was perfect.