"Get ready, Miss Horton, for the most romantic night of your life."
"What are you doing up there?"
". . .I don't know. But don't you find it romantic? Your basic balcony scene straight out of Cyrano, Romeo and Juliet?"
"Jack, that's a fire escape not a balcony."
"One does what one can in modern times. And so I quote the Bard. Act two. Scene Two. ' With love's light wings did I or'er perch these walls. For stony limits cannot hold love out. .. and what love can do. . .love can do. . ."
"What love dares attempt," Jennifer finished for him.
Jennifer heard a noise and came down the stairs from her bedroom holding a baseball bat. Suddenly a soot covered Santa fell out of the fireplace. She screamed.
"You can't shoot Santa!" Santa protested.
"Jack?! Is that you under there? You're insane!"
"Jack?" he asked. "As in Deveraux? Jack Deveraux would never wear a hat with a pompom on it-- He would wear fake fur, however.-- No, you can see with your own eyes, young lady that I'm Santa. Mr. Deveraux sent me here to give you a Christmas greeting and check on a special order gift.'
"Jack you gave me your present last night. And I don't have anything else to give you--"
"You don't give presents to Santa! Haughty reindeer, young lady, what are you talking about? Now see here, I've been checking my list and checking it twice trying to find out who's naughty---And. . . well, you're almost always nice." She smiled at him.
"And speaking of checking," he continued, "Mr. Deveraux wanted me to ask if you had an answer to the question he popped the other night." He opened his palm and the engagement ring lay in it. "I'm asking-- will you marry him?"
"Jack. . ."
"Wait! Wait a minute. Before you answer I have to make a presentation." He kneeled on the floor and unrolled a sheet of parchment. "Uh. .. Why she should marry Jack-- An immodest proposal by Jack Harcourt Deveraux. Reason one: he loves you. Reason two: you love him. Reason three: you kept asking--no, no, that can't be right. Oh! Here it is. You'd do just about anything for each other. But you already know that don't you. Now under normal circumstances, Santa wouldn't be here asking questions for Mr. Deveraux but. .. he . . . uh. . .he was in a cold sweat last night kind of worried that he might be losing you."
"Jack. . .?. . .!" "So," he rasped, "to sum up an offer of work, adventure, and simulated fur for as long as ye both shall live. . and I'll even throw in a promise to do everything in my power--HIS power to be worthy of someone like you. Will you marry me. No rush. You can think about it."
"I don't need to think, Jack. You already know how I feel. I love you."
"You mean you love Mr. Deveraux."
"I mean you. The real you. I love YOU, Jack, and I want to marry you.'
"Is that a yes?"
"That's a yes."
"Well. . .then. . . Could Santa steal a kiss?"
"Oh I don't know. Jack might not like it." She laughed at his crestfallen expression. "Well. ..may be a little kiss," she conceded.
"Great!" They shared a long lingering kiss. Then separated and he said softly, "Merry Christmas."