Santa Claus Is Coming To Town




With his sexy elves:

colette_icon.gif delilah_icon.gif kaylee2_icon.gif

And in the crowd:

bolivar2_icon.gif raquelle_icon.gif

Featuring the Cambria Girls: Billie Jean and Diana

Scene Title Santa Claus Is Coming To Town
Synopsis Christmas Day arrives in Summer Meadows and so does Santa!!! Surprises, Mysteries and some tears. It's the perfect holiday really! (A Ferrymen Christmas Finale)
Date December 25th, 2009

Summer Meadows

The low brickwork walls flanking the entrance to this subdivision pronounce it to be 'S MMER ME DOWS', black metal letters pitted by age and each tilted slightly askew by decades of weather and neglect. The rest of the subdivision echoes this theme — pavement cracked, its lines worn and faded nearly into obscurity; small lawns littered with autumn leaves and dying grass, shrubbery poorly pruned or not trimmed back at all, such flowers as there are in most cases long since grown wild. The buildings are a mix of townhouses, duplexes, and quartered apartments, most of them with paint peeling at the edges, a few boarded over and sporting jagged holes where the windows weren't quite protected enough. Feral dogs slink at the back of the streets; their feline counterparts are less commonly seen, usually visible as no more than a streak of motion disappearing into the bushes or someone's cracked-open garage door. This isn't a neighborhood where people are seen lounging on their porches as the sun sinks low in the sky; to stay out as darkness gathers is to risk unwanted attention, and the consequences thereof.

As the sunrises over the roofs of the homes of Summer Meadows, it casts an orange tint over the blanket of snow covering the community and making it sparkle almost magically. The community is in the process of waking, smoke rising thickly in the cold out of some of the chimneys. Inside many of the houses, excited children rush to get their parents out of bed. "Time to get up!" They say.

"Santa is coming!"

The smell of bacon and other such foods associated with breakfast floats through the streets in an attempt to the rouse the community and leading them too the main staging area for the work effort. The makeshift kitchen, that the Ferrymen and volunteers have been using, has been over run by a local restaurant and is busy with making food for anyone hungry enough to eat. As residents move down the line they are told to be back this evening for a Christmas Dinner.

The mood in the air is cheerful and bright, something the residents probably don't feel too often as a whole. There is also a tension in the air cause the jolly man of the hour hasn't shown up yet. The porch of one of the houses has been decorated for the occasion. Lights and garland… a throne for Santa to sit on.

Kaylee uses two fingers to pushes aside the curtain before her enough to look at the growing crowd. The bright sunlight splashes warm light across her cheek, which actually seems to glitter slightly from the blush on her cheeks. As the curtain drops, Kaylee turns to the people in the room with a bright smile. The young telepath is dressed for the occasion. In fact, she's dressed up as Santa's helper, complete with green stockings.. not the green fishnets that Doyle probably suggested. A bell on her green hat jingles softly as it bounces behind her, as she moves away from the window. "Native are getting restless." Hands rub together, the excitement of the moment in her voice. "It's D-day.. Or would that be C-day.. I don't know.. but damn if this ain't what we've been working towards for weeks."

A binder decorated to keep the theme going, with wrapping paper and ribbons, is scooped up by the blonde. "This is going to be interesting and chaotic.. Hopefully no one will notice." She huffs slightly, flipping through pages of names and addresses, before snapping it shut. She eyes her volunteers, "We ready for this? Names and addresses on each present.. The hardest part is the puppies and that one fluffy white kitten. They do have tags.. unless they have chewed them up." The binder is waved. "I'll call out the names.. I can't imagine the kids won't be there.. They come up.. we'll have the present ready… Everything is organized…" She presses lips together and then offers a… "Questions?"

Eric is just a little bit late, for some reason, but he's here— honest! There's a gigantic, nearly person-sized white teddy bear that he brought with him for some reason, that's stashed off into a corner of the house that's been transformed into a showy production. As reticient as he was - especially after the feds wandered through earlier in the week - he's in his element here, showmanship.

He's also wearing a red suit with furry white trim, and he's currently attempting to get the beard to sit right on his face. "Where's the spirit gum," he mutters, going through the costuming supplies.

"Agh! No!— Wait!" The shriek comes moments before a tiny bolt of white fur comes darting out of a doorway from the kitchen, paws skittering across hardwood and then barreling towards another exit from the living room, skirting between Kaylee's legs as kittens are often wont to do. "Stop!" Scrambling on socked feet out of the kitchen, Colette Nichols looks something like a frantic cat herself, slippery socks failing ot find traction on the floor as she chases after the feline escapee.

Halfway through the living room, Colette comes skidding to a stop, thumping hard into one of the walls as her focus snaps to where the kitten is making a break for another room. "I said stop kitty!" One pale hand lashes out, tiny nimbuses of light swirling around her fingertips before the doorway is flooded with a colorful haze of pastel colors and swirling lights, completely abstract in form, but bright and garish enough to make the kitten come scrambling to a halt to avoid running headlong into Colette's technicolor curtain.

As the kitten click-ticks claws on the hardwood to try and get traction on the floor, Colette comes bounding over, dropping down to her knees on the floor to scoop the kitten up into her arms as it nearly gets away, white fur plastering to her black turtleneck sweater. "Ow! Claws! S— stop! Mmnh!"
Delilah is the second Santa's Helper- She's in the same red and green outfit and tights as Kaylee, all jingly bells and weird elf-y fringe. She has a two-tailed hat instead of the one tail and bell- perhaps that just means number two? There is a chain lead on her wrist as she adjusts the hat, clinking all the way over to where Samson is sitting, right beside the mound of Stuff that Doyle is going through. The big dog has a furry brown sweater on, and a pair of foam antlers on his head. His tongue is hanging out, and brown eyes watch Eric up until chaos comes running past; even when Colette and Kitten do make that ruckus, all Samson does is look to see what is going on. No barking, no tripping Santa- Is that a kitten? Can I taste him? Is the face he gives to Colette.

"Oh, oh, here, I've got it, I was putting on my ears." Delilah hops suddenly over to Eric, extending the small bottle of gum to him. Yeah, she has ears. And with the blush and sparkle and what not, she really does look like some sort of elfin thing. It's the freckles and the hair, probably.

They'd come over in a cop car, mostly for BJ's sake: she's had this thing about the enforcers of lawww ever since the incident with the crazy mutant kidnapper bitch and Emile Danko, whereabouts of the latter now conspicuously unknown. Bolivar had been steadfast about keeping the window rolled up against the siege of winter's cold, but there were no real safety concerns aside of that. Diana and her sister have been painfully docile in the past few months, at least compared to the hysterically squeaking things wearing underwear on their heads and sippy cups around their fists he'd met — going on eight months ago.

There's a small hope somewhere in the tiny halfbreed's heart that he'll be able to rejuvenate them with this whole expedition somehow. Eggs, basket. You know. But kids love Christmas; probably even that little glowy-eyed bastard he'd put a hole in in spring had loved Christmas, too, however dubious his other preoccupations, activities, and neighborhoods of preference had been. Back at the Cambria house, he'd helped pick up scraps of cloth and wash the dye down the drain.

Here, he comes around to open the white car door, a proper gentleman, his typical dishevelled suit jacket swapped out for a distinctly green sweater underneath his bulky brown coat. Nina Lou was, unfortunately, somewhat too large to fit in the vehicle with everybody else plus driver: only the spaniel is alighting here. Her round lacey-furred paws, too, are inexplicably green out of recognition for the holiday season.

"No fucking running," he cautions. A beat's pause; he tilts slightly on his feet, blocks Logan Rose's chest with the blunt of one shoe toe. "I mean you. You're allowed to run," he informs the girl inside the car, glancing at her father. "Just a little."

The Cambria Girls usually look good, that's still true. Despite BJ's current butch boxer girl phase and Diana's mute cheerleaderness…they are good girls. Raquelle couldn't and wouldn't deny that. The cop car thing though. That just gets the, "…I had a dream like this sweetcakes…" drawl and then soft chuckle…perfectly innocent this one!

The hairdresser slips out of the car in time for Bolivar to open the door for the girls and he's dressed in a pair of fitted dark jeans, red docs that match his dark red leather jacket to be festive with his fitted dark green turtleneck sweater under his jacket. His emo fringe has red and green streaks though as he smirks at Bolivar and arches a slender eyebrow. "…it's Christmas, they get one free run." He sticks out his tongue and then he rubs his forehead. Cooooooffeeeeeeee.

Kaylee's focus is on giving instructions to some of the volunteers there wearing Santa hats and holding large handbells. "Okay.. each of you take a street and spread the word Santa is here. See if we can get all the kids here.. otherwise.. if their too shy to see Santa, you all are in charge of delivering the gifts." Satisfied that each one gives a confirmed nod before moving to slip out of the house. Not long after she can hear handbells in the distances and an excited murmur outside builds with the antispation.

The streak of white past Kaylee's feet, followed by the teenager gets a grin. "I think that little fluff ball of fur is getting given away at the beginning." She shuffles across to room in her pointy shoes to try and help pry the tiny thing's claws from Colette's skin as she makes softly comforting noises to it, and scratches it affectionately. "What did you do?" She teases the teen with a smirk. "She was all loving and calm earlier."

Then the telepath's thoughts shift on to other matters even before Colette can answer. "Santa? You ready, yet?" She calls, not looking at the festively dressed puppeteer.

Outside the busy house, the crowd is slowly growing, a few reporters rove the scene asking bright questions to the various girls and boys.

"You excited?"

"What did you ask for?"

The is plenty of food, coffee and hot chocolate for all. There is even heated apple cider for those who'd like something fruity. The line for the buffet line moves at a steady pace, some kids whine about not wanting to miss Santa, others hide shyly behind parent's legs, all eyes are on that house.

"Oh, thanks, Dee," Doyle reaches out absently to accept the bottle, then pauses as the chaos of lights and claws comes whirling through the room, taking a moment to stare after it all for a moment before a chuckle stirs in his throat. One hand lifts in a vague gesture, fingers spread then curling in, and the kitten's claws promptly retract with a startled little mewl. Then he goes back to gumming the heavy white beard to his face.

"Just a second, just-a-second…" The santa hat's pulled on, the tassel swaying, and he turns to Delilah, hands spread, "How do I look?"

With the kitten bundles up in her arms, all teeth and claws and hissing fits, Colette gets up to her feet, holding the tiny little hellion out at the full extent of her reach. "Agh, he reminds me of Ingram." Which is to say it also reminds her of Felix, as both cat and owner seem to share very similar mannerisms. "He didn't like the ribbon at all." Colette answers Kaylee with a wrinkle of her nose.

Looking rather helpless with her hands full of kitten, Colette walks the little furball back into the kitchen, "I'm just gonna put him back in his box." Socked feet carry her across the living room and towards the doorway, mewling and purring coming in equal measure along with the swish-swishing of a fluffy white tail. "Honestly this animal…" She mumbles once out of sight.

Returning from the feline task, Colette pauses in the doorway, hands on her hips and brows furrowed, eyes focused up to the door. "Oh— sheesh we're almost ready aren't we?" Looking down at herself, Colette's nose wrinkles at the drab blacks and grays of her denim skirt, charcoal stockings and inky sweater. "Right."

Resting her hands at her shoulders, Colette quirks one brow and purses her lips, letting a wash of chromatic change swirl thorugh her clothing. Tights become green and red striped, the skirt a dark forest green, and the sweater a warm brick red. Her hands come up to her hair, toussling it with a touch of her fingers to become a powdery white.

"Does anyone have any extra ears?" She asks with a chirping quality to her voice, green eyes dancing over to Delilah with a white brow quirked when her eyes settle on Eric, followed by a giggle. "Eric you look festive!."

"Okay, Samson-" Delilah crouches down to the dog's collar while Eric puts on his face; she still has her gloves on, which could mean she is just practical- but- there's really something else. She hasn't been as touchy lately, that's for sure. She unhooks the chain from Samson, looking down at him and pointing at the floor. "You have to stay with me, okay?" Chances are that he does not understand, but he'll stick with Dee regardless. When the girl stands straight to put the dog chain nearby, Santa has his beard on.

"Hah! You look great!" Delilah laughs brightly and clasps her hands in front of her skirt, head tilting just past Eric to get a look at Colette, now various shades of Christmas. "Oh, ah- there are some in the stuff there. The gum works pretty good on them, thank goodness. I'm ready, Kay. We good now?" Santa beard, elf ears, reindeer at heels.

Given Bolivar needs one hand for dog leashes as it is, and is rather wee, he has to abort out of his initial plan to scoop up a Cambria girl and carry her over to the staging area.

He ushers the family of three into the building instead, motioning with one small, gloved hand, which winds up snagged with four scar-brindled fingers on Raquelle's coat lapel instead, tugging insistently over the skitter and thump of small green dog paws. So distracted is Bolivar, that he does not actually notice the first few subtle double-takes and googly-eyed stares that the fire-ravaged side of his face draws from volunteers carrying vats of something past, the scrappily-garbed locals.

By the time he does actually notice them, they're out of range for yelling anyway, how promptly he hustles. It isn't long before the mewling objections of kittens is drawing Logan Rose's cock-eared attention, Doyle's great shape is vaguely visible around plastic holly hangings, and the coffee looms up on its table. "Apparently being poor as fuck comes with free benefits," Bolivar observes, in what hopefully registers as an insignificant volume of voice.

BJ's hair has been pulled back in a french braid and she wears a pair of jeans and the Christmas sweater from grandma. Diana has her own sweater and a cute little skirt on naturally as she scrambles out of the car with her older sister, darting past Bolivar AND Daddy as they argue about whether or not there is actually a Santa. - Well BJ is arguing, Diana just nods or shakes her head or smacks the older girl in the head with her purse only to get shoved by BJ all while moving! This takes talent.

Raquelle laughs softly, pulling out a compact for a moment to check his eyeliner before snapping it shut and shoving it back into a pocket before wrapping an arm around Bolivar, blowing a kiss to people as they pass. His nose wrinkles though as he eyes the dog and tilts his head to the side, hearing kittens.

"Not the benefits that matter though…I'm scared however BJ's going to mug Santa if he upsets Diana. I'm also half sleep here honeybunchesofholidaybrilliance so if I start to fall over…" He makes a kissy face at Logan Rose before turning his attention between his girls who run ahead and Bolivar. "Be sure to catch me."

Shaking her head after the teen and cat, Kaylee gives a little sigh and takes the few steps over to Delilah's side to give Doyle her own look over. She taps an elbow against her fellow elf's side. "I told you he'd be perfect for the part, Dee. And you laughed." The blond gives Eric a wink, grinning ear to ear.

"It's show time Santa."

"Alright folks.. time to make these kids day." Kaylee states firmly, turning on one heel for the door. Each foot makes her jingle rather joyfully, but she pauses for a moment as she suddenly gets a bout of nerves. "Oh…. god…. okay.. I can do this." She murmurs to herself. "You dances on the bars at Old Lucy's, you can stand in front of a large.. crowd of… kids." Kids don't get distracted from the flaws of a performance by booze and bouncing cleavage either. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Okay…" She says again, before opening the door to the house.

The moment the door opens a hush falls over the crowd, kids through out the crowd seem to hold their breath as the blonde elf steps out onto the porch with a bright smile. Hands spread out before her she starts to speak loudly, her voice light and happy. "Hello ladies and gentlemen and especially all you boys and girls." She had a speech ready, but most of it seems to fail her as she looks out over the sea of faces… a bad time to get stage fright for sure. It takes her a moment to gather her thoughts back together, "Ah… Santa…. has gotten all those letters you wrote and he's been watching what's been going on here. So I hope all of you have been good." Her tone takes on a tone that says she hopes it's not the case. "So… today… here to show his appreciation for everything that has been happening her today…. and - as I know you are all waiting for- to pass out those gifts himself." She takes a few steps to the side and makes a show of motioning to the door. "May I introduce to you today.. The one and only…. Santa Claus!"

The blonde telepath can't help but grin brightly as the kids in the crowd break out into cheers and even some squeals, followed by clapping by the adults in the crowd.

At the compliments for his appearance, a grin curves to Eric Doyle's lips beneath the white fall of faux-whiskers, and he claps hands gloved in red satin together, rubbing them together in anticipation. "Alright, then, my pretty little elves, it's…" A gesture of his hands after Kaylee as she steps to the porch, "…showtime."

The little speech is heard through the door, and as his name's spoken, the portly puppeteer - tonight, taking the role of the jolly old elf that lingers in the north and makes children's dreams come true - steps out through it with a lumbering step, one hand raised up in a wave to the crowd.

"Ho, ho, ho," he bellows jovially, stepping over towards the chair, "Hello, children and parents! So many happy faces that I see out there today! I hope you've all been good girls and boys - of course, I know!"

Skidding on socked feet to the box Delilah had motioned to, Colette is quick to snatch up one of the pairs of fake, pointed ears. She scrambles with her back to the door, hooking them over her own ears, fussing with the placement and pressing them down to make sure they stay in place, then whips around the moment the door swings open, both of her hands motioning towards Santa, and with a snap of pale fingers, there's a flurry around the door, a sparkle of light — oh god wait too bright— okay there less like sparks— as snow begins falling down from above the entrance, and then as one of Colette's eyes narrow behind a lock of chalk white hair, it begins snowing inside the rest of the building.

Brow twitching, Colette comes to stand beside Santa's chair, one arm resting an elbow on the back, her focus rather intent on juggling all of the colors she's managing on herself and the figments fluttering down from the ceiling. Illusory snowflakes dance slow in the air, falling like something out of a storybook more so than anything grounded in reality. As they move and twirl in the air, the lack of solidity to them causes them to turn into tiny white sparkles of light when they 'break' on someone.

"Merry Christmas," Colette says with a raise of her brows, more to Doyle than anyone else. Everyone needs something uplifting for the holidays, even if it's proof-positive that you might just be a good person deep down inside.

Delilah follows Kaylee out the door to flank Santa's chair, same as the other elf. While the telepath makes her introduction, all that Dee has to do is stand there, smile, and clap along with the swamp of children. Santa comes out next, complete with visual effects. Dee pauses in her clapping for a second, eyeballing Colette as she join them just outside. Samson is last, apparently deciding that Santa either needs a reindeer or things are more interesting out there- he slumps into a sit beside Delilah, nose pressing against her knee.

Delilah resumes her smiling and clapping once Santa is done greeting the crowd, taking a look over it herself once she stops. She can recognize some of them by face now, having spent a bit of time at the Meadows helping the past month or so. Ohhh, I can't wait until they get their presents. This is gonna be awesome.

"I'll be crushed," the tiny Mexican is saying, arms around his boyfriend's waist. "I'll be killed." He doesn't add that it's very difficult for either of them to get coffee with both hands occupied and Raquelle firmly ensconced in his embrace, because it would seem that coffee is, at least, for the meantime, merely an excuse for hugging. The peripheral of his vision is carefully trained on the girls, two bright dwarven spots of color that al-most, don't-quite vanish into the massed array of other seated tots and pre-tweens.

And the next moment, it's snowing despite the clarity of the sky and forecast. Bolivar's eyes go big in his head; he twists his head on its stem, casting about for the likely source of the decorative incident— ironically, his attention snags on Colette's face completely independent of this thought, surprise evident on his features long before he makes the connection. Recent familiarity with Raquelle's various folicle-processing practices make Colette recognizable, despite the random interference of that snowy bleaach job. Automatically, the cop gloved left hand rises up to catch at one of the flakes, only to connect with wafting nothing, fingers closing, scissoring wide again.

Huh. Wonder where Judah is. And how much they're paying fat Santa for this. "I know that girl," he says, a little absently.

The girls skid to a stop, BJ wrapping her arms protectively around her mute sister and they both stare with big eyes. BJ finally blurting out loudly. "Oh my GOD he IS Obese!" Then she mutters to Diana. "Do you think Mrs Claus has heard of Atkins?" Diana sorta squeaks and just looks up and around with wide eyes, the white snow making her eyes just get wide as she clings to her sister and trembles a bit.

Raquelle is half sleep remember? His hands wander and he fakes a pout. "Are you calling me fat? After all I did for-" He too trails off at the starting to snow business, arm tightening a bit as he takes a deep breath and then…another deep breath, looking around for his girls reflexively. "…good knowing? Biblical knowing? Bad knowing…" It's just snow. It's just…snow. Inhale, Exhale.

While Doyle is addressing the crowd, Kaylee flips open her festive binder and looks at the first names on her list. Brows furrow slightly and she brings it closer to her face as if she needs to see it better. A glance goes to Dee and Colette and she motions them over. "Did you guys change my list?" She shows them the first page and the fact two names have been added in rather fancy and scripty ink handwriting at the top of the list. "That's not my handwriting. Colette.. I don't remember getting either of these gifts.. So can you check? I think I'd know if we got these, but I'm not remembering." She taps a finger on the page.

She then glances at Delilah. "Can you get the gift for…" Kaylee's finger slides down to her actual list. "..this girl? Should be a red and green striped box, big bow.. I think Peyton wrapped that one." Her tone amused.

Tasks given, Kaylee turns back to the crowd with her bright smile. "Alright… Santa." Kaylee turns to the jolly fat man as she sits in his chair. "Let's get to giving gifts cause we're on a schedule.. Only 365 days till next Christmas after all!" She turns to the crowd and peer ing, a hand lifting to shade her eyes. "First on my list here is Ashley Anderson… Where are you Ashley?"

Lifted up so that she can see above the crowd, little Ashley waves her hands excitedly, as she's carried through the crowds on what must be her father's shoulder. The little girl with bright red cloud of curls, wearing an over sized hand me down jacket, couldn't be more then six years old. "Here! I'm here Santa!" She squeals happily.

When they reach the porch, her daddy lowers her to the floor, her eyes are huge and she's suddenly shy. Little hands clutch on her daddy's coat. The telepath, bends down a little to give the girl as reassuring smile. "Hello Ashley.." She makes a show of checking her book. "Says here you were a very good girl this year." She then steps aside so that she can approach Eric. "I believe Santa would like to meet you."

"Hello there, Ashley…" A deep voice is affected by Doyle this evening, years of puppet shows making voicework fairly easy for him; settling into the big painted chair with fake foam candy canes along the sides, patting his heavy thighs with satin gloves as he waves for her to approach, "You have been a good girl this year, haven't you? Why don't you come tell Santa what it is you want this year…?"

"I wrote it down on my letter." The little tiny redhead explains and she climbs up to sit in Santa's lap. She gives him a look like he should remember. "But… I asked for a dollhouse.. it's the Disney one.. with the stuff that plays music.. and the princesses move around and stuff.. It was really cool." Curls bob a bit as she speaks giving Doyle a matter of fact look.

"B— Bolivar!" Colette chirps from beside Doyle's chair, bouncing up into the air, one hand waving back and forth as if she were not dressed in garish Christmas colors at the fore of the room and already glaringly obvious. "Bolivar!" A cheerful smile is spread from ear to ear of what Bolivar last recalls as a crying brunette who just wanted her dog back and also may have gotten undressed for reasons entirely not salacious in his apartment. "Hey!"

Thumping down on her heels, Colette offers a crooked smile and slouches to the side against Doyle's chair, noticing the rugrats scampering around with the short man, then up to Raquelle with a furrow of her brows and a squint of her eyes, one of those do I know you looks. With Santa's entrance having been made and enough of the snow falling on the porch having served its purpose — plus it's goddamned hard to concentrate on all those flakes — Colette dismisses it with an entirely theatric snap of her fingers.

It's only then she notices the look Kaylee's been trying to give her, that get over here damnit expression. Colette squeaks and bounds over on stocking-clad feet, coming to a stop with a back and forth rock on her heels. "I— I didn't touch the lists. I mean— " she leans in to eyebal it, one dark brow raising. "I… don't think… we…" The entry on it seems to baffle her too.

Straightening up, Colette's lips purse to the side, one hand at her chin as she gives a studious nod. "I'll go take a look inside," she jerks her thumb over her shoulder, "and be right back." A hesitate step away is taken, green eyes leveling on Bolivar, then Raquelle and his kids, then back up to Bolivar again with a raised brow. There's something teasing in her smile, even if it goes unsaid when she turns around and bounds up the stairs one stomping step after another before making her way inside.

Leaving Samson sitting like a fuzzy brown sentinel near the Santa Chair, Delilah scoots over to look down at the list that Kaylee has, she and the fellow elves visibly commiserating for a moment. "I didn't… oh, okay, I'll get it…" The redheaded elf tilts her head once more to read the binder's contents, keeping a thoughtful look as she slinks back to fetch Ashley's gift. She gives Doyle enough time to reiterate his 'magic' before nudging the door back open with the wrapped box obscuring her on her way out to Santa like any proper elf.

"Oh! Oh- Santa! It was the first one in your sack!" Delilah plays it well, with what she's been given. Not that she needs much to be a chirpy happy elf helper.

The process of deduction goes up for display on Bolivar's face and behind his eyes like the nonsense whirl of a slot machine, before the disparate mechanical parts of intellectual confusion, disgruntlement at PROBABLY UNREGISTERED AND THEREFORE ILLEGAL Evolved, 20/20 perception of Colette's mockery and residual annoyance at how far away the coffee is finally collide to a ringing halt. What! Colette's uncontrolled rainbow runoff has turned into artificial snow. Judah's nowhere to be seen; his inner-cop and protective co-worker and reluctant friend and defensive short-man-complex parts all clamor in opposite directions, finally manifest in a slow, crooked wave of a hand in Colette's direction.

Even as Colette changes directions, shouldering the responsibility of a dozen children's happiness on her willowy shoulders. "Don't even, Demsky," he calls after her. His wave grows marginally more threatening, but really: he's letting it go. He's letting it all go. A little primly, he finishes: "You wish you had my life.

"Co-workers' kid," he adds for Raquelle's sake, dropping his arm again. He pats his glamorous giant on the elbow, cranes his head in search of the coffee once again. There. Setting his shoulder against Raquelle's chest/ribs/ankle/whatever, the shorter man proceeds to steer him toward sustenance. "Beej, make sure Di stays with the fu— herd, okay? Get on Santa. They check these guys for pedo records, right?" The latter remark is a miracle of restraint, a whisper, really, albeit one delivered with a sincerely suspicions arch of brow. Bolivar sets Raquelle up with coffee.

The girls do stick together like glue. Diana quiet as can be in her little christmassy princess attire and BJ eyeing people who get in their way as she tries to get in a good position to see this Santa person!

Raquelle hmms thoughtfully as he looks between his vertically challenged-err…boyfriend and the woman who moved on and he just chuckles softly, and then perks a bit when he sees the coffee, reaching out like a glamorous zombie of some sort, groping for his coffee cup and working on getting coffee. "If Santa does something to my girls, I will let you rip out his spleen after BJ finishes gnawing on his small intestine…" He murmurs and rolls his eyes a bit. Mmm, Coffee. "…I have a confession to make. I'm cheating on you right now. With the cup of coffee." He raises his hand to wave too! Waving is fun! Mmm, coffee.

"Oh, that's right, you did tell me in your letter, didn't you…" A playful twinkle in Santa Doyle's eyes as he brings one hand up to tap against his chin thoughtfully, his other considerately resting on Ashley's shoulder to help her balance as she peers up at him through red curls.

Then Delilah sings out, and he looks over with a bright smile through the gentle fall of snowflakes of pure and wondrous light, "Well, look at that, Ashley! There's your present right there… and look how big it is!" Conspiratorially, he leans closer, "It just might be that dollhouse you wanted, if you've been a very good girl! Go on, I'm sure your parents will help you carry it!"

"Oh my gosh! Thank you Santa!" The little girl bounces happily trying to wrap those small arms around the box. She slide of Doyle's lap and holds the box to her daddy to take. "Look daddy! Look! Look! Carry it Daddy… I'm too little."

Kaylee watches the whole thing with amusement, a small smile on her face, but then it's back to business. As the little girl is escorted off with her big present by her daddy, the telepath glances up, head tilting a bit as if listening to something. That frown is back again as she looks at the book, a glance goes to Santa and then she shakes her head. Glancing behind her, Colette… bring them down.

"Dee.. I think Colette will need help with this next one." Kaylee motions over her shoulder at the open door. "I have no idea who tampered with the list.. but what was asked for was up there." She looks a bit disturbed by the idea of some one tampering with her stuff and not knowing.

Glancing at the list she steps up to the railing of the porch and looks over the crowd. "Next on my list… is a pair of girls. Sisters. Can Billy Jean and Diana Cambria come up please? Santa would like to speak to you." She turns to lean close to Doyle, whispering, tilting the open binder so that he can see the script like writing, but also to cover the conversation. "These two were not on the list.. Someone added them and the 'gifts' are upstairs." She leans in further and whispers something in his ear, but then she pulls back and adds, "By the way.. Good work Santa." She gives him a bright smile and straightens and moves aside so the girls can approach Santa.

Delilah smiles as the miniature redhead puts her arms on the box, and the elf helps the girl and her dad to corral the gift. Kaylee is quick to send her to help Colette- and for this one, Dee snaps her fingers for Samson to follow along. They both disappear for now to find Colette and the next two presents, leaving Doyle and Kaylee to field BJ and Diana on their own, good gracious. Good luck with that.

"Don't make me take that away from you," Bolivar rumbles companionably, setting small hands in deep pockets. He tips his head back against his coat collar, squints over around the ragged periphery of the crowd to see what's going on with the Cambria girls and the misappropriated pagan saint.

The girls look at each other before BJ takes Diana's hand and leads the way as she eyes the Santa warily. When close enough she moves to urge Diana to be the one to sit in his lap when it is time to do so. She does lean in to say, "If you scare her I will masticate you." Of course she means castrate, and she's not quite sure what that means but…she heard somebody at home threaten the mailman with it. Diana smiles sweetly and BJ takes a deep breath and matches the smile, batting her eyelashes then leans back in, smile fading as she gets down to business.

"Look you obese cookie eating tangible figment of our imaginations. I've been a very very very good girl but not as good as Daddy's boyfriend. I heard him say that the werewolf man was a very good boy before it was time for us to go to bed again and he is a good person I suppose. Diana has been a saint though. We don't ask for much and I know more people have a need for presents and so we aren't gonna ask you for anything like that…" She takes a breath. "So if you give us these things, I promise that my daddy will give you a kiss. People like that." Diana just smiles sweetly and kicks her feet a bit. Thankfully…Raquelle can't hear any of this.

"…but if you are really a bad revert in a costume planning something evil, the real Santa's gonna send you to a place where Baby Jesus will spank you." BJ leans against Santa's legs all friendly like.

Needless to say, the little girl's businesslike lecture and surprisingly deft mixture of threats and offerings takes Doyle offguard, and for a few nonplussed moments he just stares at the more talkative of the two children as the sweeter one settles on his lap.

Then he bursts out into belly laughing, shoulders shaking and belly doing the same beneath the tight sinch of the red and white satin suit, "Well aren't you a precious child. You know what, though, I don't even need anything. I'm Santa, and I do this just for the joy of kids like you two. I think that I know just what to have brought out to prove to you who I am, though, little Billy Jean, Diana…" A hand lifts, and he turns a bit to look towards the door.

"I— I got it!" Comes the familiar voice from inside of the building, walking backwards with her shoulders pushing the door open. Oh god don't pee on me please don't pee on me rattles around in her head like some sort of mantra. As the snow-white haired Colette comes sliding out of the door, she turns to reveal a gift that is better left not covered in wrapping paper. Cradled in her hands — and held out at full arms length — is the wrinkliest brown and white puppy, seemingly content to be held under his arms, dopey mouth open and large tongue hanging out the side. The dark-eyed pitbull puppy just wags his little finger of a tail back and forth contentedly, presuming this to be some sort of joyous ride.

As Colette comes bouncing down the steps with puppy in hand, it's clearer on her approach that not only is it a put bull, but a red ribbon has been loosely wound around his neck like a collar, a large bow spread out behind his back, and — much like Samson — a tiny pair of antlers are strung to his head. "I think this one has uh…" She lifts the puppy up, trying to check the tag dangling from his neck, nose wrinkled and lips pursed.

Coincidentally she is also holding the puppy aloft towards Santa with puppy-legs akimbo. It's just one bladder malfunction away from becoming a very bad christmas. "I can't read this tag!" Colette whines, bouncing up and down on her heels and dangling to puppy closer and closer to Doyle.

When Colette comes a-bouncing out with the puppy, Samson is bouncing out with her- he got a good sniff earlier but this is Important. Way more important. But Colette is dangling his little friend- and- oh! Mom! Samson zeroes in on Delilah as she follows back outside. And with her? A second puppy. A poodle, biting happily at her gloves and generally being a squirmy little puppy in a big ribbon bow and little antlers.

She allows Samson to re-sniff this one though, and he gives the poodle puppy a big lick, eyes going sidelong to look at Doyle Clause as he does so. "Diaaana Caaambria-" Delilah does a comical show of finding the big tag and reading it out very loudly as she returns to Santa's side with Colette.

Blonde brows lift high on her head and her binder is titled up slowly to rest against her lips to hide the smirk Kaylee has. Her eyes lift from the girls to look at Doyle, a brow arching a bit higher then the other as she gives him an amused look. Beautifully executed, Eric. I was worried for a second. As the binder is tilted up, a folded piece of red homemade paper slides out of the binder and flutters to rest on one of her feet.

The telepath crouches down to pick up the piece of paper, there is that confused look again as she reads the name on the outside. Curious she unfolds the letter slowly, eyes scanning over the content as she straightens. "What.. the…?" The words are whispered softly, she flips the sheet to look at the back of the letter as if there would be a clue some where. Finally, she folds the letter and holds onto it, her eyes studying the little girls as if seeing something new about them.

Kaylee glances towards the door, backing up against the wall of the house, so that the puppy wielding pair can deliver their bundles to the girls. Once the big puppy reveal is done, Kaylee offers the red letter to Billy Jean. "This little girl has your name on it…. but…." She holds it out of reach for a split second, "Don't read it till your back with your parents." She gives the girl a wink and offers it to her again. "It's a very important Santa message for you." Yeah, Doyle won't know anything about this little gem… She's pretty damn clueless too. "I'd listen to what it says.. It's very important."

New mothers probably have the look Bolivar's face does now, when they are shown that squalling blood-greased wrinkly blob for the first time after it's shot out into the world.

Certain elation is an unusual visitor to the man's face, medium-brown eyes gone big in his head underneath the blackish dishevelment of the morning's Christmas adventure preparation rituals. Diaaaana Caaaaambria. His hand closes on Raquelle's elbow, and there's an energetically herky-jerky tug like he's trying to get a bell gonging up there; he raises his other arm, points a gloved forefinger across the crowd at where the wrinkly mound of purebred is in the process of exchanging hands.


Below, Logan Rose's velvet ears shift upward a tick, their velvet flaps jiggling as she turns her head to and fro in the forest of legs. She can't see shit down here, but even from her disadadvantaged vantage point, she can tell that something's up. There's the smell of dog everywhere.

It is safe to say the girls kinda look like this: O_O. Diana just opens her mouth and…practically screams in a lisp that hasn't been heard for months. "THANK YOU BABYJESUS FOR TELLING SANTA!" While BJ gasps and stares at Santa and then at the puppies and then at Diana and then the puppies and then at Santa and then over towards where Bolivar and her father are and then the puppies and she takes the letter from Kaylee with wide eyes. Then she nods slowly and gives a tiny little jump, which encourages Diana to work on standing up on poor Santa's lap and jumping herself. "ISSA PUPPY!"

Raquelle's attention is caught by Bolivar's tugging and he doubletakes over towards his daughters, dropping his cup of coffee as his pretty baby blue eyes almost fall out of his head, protected only by the invisible forcefield put in place by cosmetic use of eyeliner.

"Sweet mother of /fuck/." There are PUPPIES and his daughter said something and Bolivar is in public and doesn't look like he wants to castrate anybody with his dwarf blade of righteousness and it has nothing to do with whispers or texts about doing /that thing that can't be talked about around children with the whipped cream and handcuffs with the shiny new adornments for certain things that have been pierced/.

"…sweet mother of fu-" Yeah, he's already said that as he sways a bit and looks like he's about to faint. Which he does. Fabulously.

Ohgodit'sgoingtopeeonhim. "I think that would be Billy Jean's puppy that you've got there, Colette-elf," Doyle points out, half amused by the entire situation and half terrified that he's about to become an impromptu fire hydrant for the canine, waving her towards the two men that must be their domestic-union parents. It's obvious, after all! One of them just fainted.

The outbursts from the girls bring another jovial laugh from him, up until Diana starts jumping up and down on his lap and one foot drives directly into his jingle bells. "Oof," mutters Santa, taking a moment to catch his breath - a flick of his hand very carefully guiding that foot to bouncing in a safer spot, both hands lifting then to catch the girl under her arms and set her down in the direction of Delilah, "Merry— nnh— Christmas, girls. Ho, ho, ho…"

A snorted laugh struggles to be kept in as Colette watches Doyle's predicament with marked amusement painted across her face. Biting down on her lower lip, she arches her brows at the explanation of which wrinkly dog goes where, and comes over to take a knee next to BJ and hand up the puppy towards her. "Careful, he's a squirmer," she says with a smile, "Merry Christmas." There's a nod of her head as she hands off the puppy, green eyes alighting to Bolivar with one brow raised in a testing look, but she keeps quiet and just rises almost entirely straight, but stays leaning over and reaches beside BJ's head.

"I think I left a little holiday cheer back there," Colette notes, flicking her finger against the back of BJs ear before straightening out and trailing a line of illusory snowflakes from her hand. They swirl around the girl, thin and ephemeral, then dance towards Diana and around her waggly-tailed poodle before dissipating into the air as Colette makes her way back to Doyle on his chair, leaning over the back and down to whisper into Santa's ear.

"I didn't know you were going to give an impromptu performance of the nutcracker, Eric." Colette wrinkles her nose, struggling with all her might not to break out into a fit of giggles.

There is fainting and squealing and oof- Delilah winces and makes a slight oof herself- oh poor Doyleclaus! Delilah makes sure to hold onto the poodle when she crouches to meet Diana, Samson peering awkwardly into the frame to make sure that this handoff is perfectly within legal dog boundaries. Or something like that. He does try to give the little girl a lick too, as apparently she is fitting- or just within kissing range.

"Merry Christmas!" Delilah is all smiles too, just about as excited as the girls are. "This one likes to chew, you better find him some really tough toys."

A hand slaps over Kaylee's mouth to stop the laugher over the whole damned thing, but shoulders shake with it, the bells attached to her clothing give softly little tingling sounds. It takes her a moment to compose herself, throat clearing and hand dropping away she state, with a strained voice, edged with suppressed laughter. "Oh god.. if even a fifth of the kids are this enthusiastic.. This whole thing will be totally worth it." She watches the two little girls with their wiggling bundles, before eyes drop back to her binder. "Merry Christmas, Billy Jean and Diana." She offers brightly even as she scans her list.

Finger tips wipe away a tear from the corner of her eyes, from her bout of badly contained laughter. "Okay… Whew…Okay.. I'm good now." Another giggle slips from between her lips, "Okay… Who is next? who is next….?" Kaylee's face sombers up a bit, smile fading at the edges. "Kyle.." She says the name softly, so it doesn't carry past the porch, her eyes moving to Eric. "Is that's the one kid….?" She trails off, eyes flickering to Colette, before she steps over to speaks softly to the group. "I don't have anything listed for him… Santa." Eyes refocusing on the big guy. "I thought he was a Lighthouse kid? We're doing those later after this stop."

Actually— and Bolivar already has some of this worked out— the good thing about having somebody in a household that hates the new dog is you can make them take it to the vet, for like when they chop its nuts off or has to have its injections, so in the end, everyone who likes the dog is liked in return and the dog will just hate Raquelle back!

It works out perfect. Is going to work out out perfect.

For now, Bolivar starts to beeline over to collect the expanded small person half of the family, but his boyfriend is fainting: he stops at the blur in his peripheral, turns back somewhat impatiently, almost doubletakes over his indecision of which urge to answer first, before— oh yeah— his domestic duty snaps itself back into perspective inside his head. He catches at Raquelle's arms, manages to stop the back of the man's head from connecting with the frosted pavement; hooks a shoulder underneath and peers alarmedly over the diva flip of his lover's emo fringe. Amid curses.

Ffffff. Colette's squinty speculation-from-afar is privvy to a gesture that means either 'is there a bench or anything I can take him to' or 'stabbing.' "Raquelle," he says, "come on, Kell, your girls are coming off the stage— they're coming back. Waaake up. You're sitting in fuckin' coffee and I know how you feel about stains. Come on, man," he pinches forefinger and thumb around Raquelle's chin, wriggles. "It was just a bad dream."

BJ has a freakin' PUPPY and a letter to read with the bigger people. Diana has a freakin' PUPPY and a big smile on her face. The Cambria Girls are happy, momentary freeze at the white stuff before quickly running off the stage, holding their little bundles and BJ yelling out her thank yous.

Raquelle groans and licks his lips with a flutter of lashes and his head lolling to the side as he mutters in Japanese. Fainting…so not fun. "JasBoliv-tell the mailman to shove it up their-"

He jerks back to reality though as it comes back into focus with the happy squealing of BJ. "DADDY! Loo-" A pause. "EWWWW, not in front of SANTA!" She squeezes her eyes shut. "Diana, close your eyes." Alas, she covers her new puppy's eyes too. Nothing's happening but you NEVER KNOW.

Raquelle just groans and nods slowly. "…last time I did acid all that happened was I impregnated somebody…dude…"

"You volunteering to kiss my roasted chestnuts better, snowflake?" A bit of a smirk twists across Eric's lips as he murmurs his (slightly pained) response back to Colette after her teasing comment down into his ear, one eye closing in a suggestive wink before he looks back over to Kaylee's quest, somber words. One brow made bushier through the magic of makeup lifts, and he observes mildly, "Sure we do. Dee, go get that bear I brought in?" The one that is, in fact, just about the size of an eight year old already. Possibly somewhat larger. He clears his throat, then, calling out in his booming stage voice, "Kyle Wilson? Come on up here, little boy…"

As it happens, Kyle would be a rather small, somber looking tow-headed child standing off with the crowd in a flannel jacket and a stocking cap a little too big for him, slipping down into his eyes now and then. Bereft of parents - as that letter to Santa said that saddened them all so, requesting nothing save his parents back - he's being watched over by one of the older teenagers from the Lighthouse, a spiky-haired punk of a girl leaning against the lamp post. As he's beckoned, he looks a little surprised, and his escort takes him by the hand with a bored little smile to lead him up towards the big man and his chair. Leaning forward, Doyle hefts up the kid and sets him into his lap.

Kyle. Only now does the name really register with Colette, and thankfully in time to distract her from the combination of lasers and amputating Doyle's injured areas for his own good. Green eyes are affixed on the child waiting by himself, at least until Colette recognizes one of Brian's wards standing not too far away. A sheepish smile is offered, then a cast of her eyes over to Doyle before Colette straightens up entirely. She's not so much stuff as she is just tense as Kyle makes his way over and sits down on Doyle's knee.

The white-haired girl watches Eric for a moment, then looks down at the child, and her expression is something bereft of the holiday cheer it had a moment ago; or perhaps it's still there, just tempered by something a bit more personal to the evening. She offers a smile, more honest than one might expect given the circumstances, then looks over to Delilah in that silence.

One hand goes to Samson to give him a gesture to stay where he is, and the dog plops himself down off to the side, lying on his stomach and half-rolling over. A paw bats at the antlers that sway into his vision. Delilah, meanwhile, knows the stories of which kids were very personal; she also knows about him from the Lighthouse. The redhead disappears into the back during that pregnant silence, only to soon return with that huuuuge stuffed bear, which looks rather like he is walking out himself instead of being carried outside. Samson perks up at the bear, suddenly unsure of if it actually could very possibly be a bear. "Oh my goodness gracious look at the size of this!"

"Really? Oh… well." The blonde elf murmurs with a blink of surprise. "I was wondering what you had planned to do with that thing. Him being out here is all your doing I suppose then." She gives him a knowing look, eyes narrowing a bit, but then the young boy is too close for the conversation to continue, so Kaylee is content to move so she can hold the door open for Delilah and that freakishly huge bear she's going to bring out. Hope you have a plan for this one, Puppet Master The words in his head soft with worry, since she had no idea he was going to do this.

Murmurs float through the crowd as someone notices the lack of parents near by. "Wonder where they are?" Is whispered softly, from one ear to the next and a sort of silence falls over the crowd, as everyone strains to hear.

Not in public. They aren't— Bolivar fires off a flurry of exasperated handwaves in the girls' direction, even as he braces himself at Raquelle's shoulder, ushering him properly into the sit-upright, one short arm wrapped gingerly around his neck. In case he bends it at the wrong angle and, you know, he gets himself further upset by physiological malfunctions and discomforts. It is, however, reassuring to Bolivar that he's at least speaking.

"Huuup," is the sound of Mexico helping the other, larger halfbreed up onto his feet, powering Raquelle into the upright. Logan Rose neatly sidesteps the clopping of Raquelle's fashionably mountainous boots, and lifts her nose to make an olfactory study of the younger dog held aloft and several feet above. "Come on Di, Beej, gotta stay quiet. Other kids doing their own shit, you know? Their moment. And I think Daddy's hallucinating. Shhhh."

"Hmm…okay Diana, open your eyes." BJ directs her younger sister, who is just rocking her puppy like a little baby, giggling and bending down a bit so she can show the poodle puppy to Logan, she's quiet again though. Diana's a happy princess. BJ goes quiet but not before offering, "That word is worth a dollar isn't it? The jar is almost full now." She looks oddly proud of this.

Raquelle nngs as he gets to his feet, blinking several times and looking between his daughters. Yep. Puppies. "Dee, BJ baby..c'mon, don't get loss in the crowd." He murmurs, leaning against Bolivar for a few before trying to steady himself. "Thank you…" He murmurs.

The eight year old looks up into 'Santa's bearded face with a hopeful look once he's ensconced in the big man's lap, but with reluctance Eric has to shake his head. "Some things," he says very quietly, "Not even Santa can bring, Kyle. I'm— sorry about that." A soft, inaudible sigh, and Kyle's gaze drops to his lap sadly, murmuring, "I know…"

One satin-gloved hand lifts to push the edge of the cotton cap back a little from the kid's eyes, drawing his attention back up as Doyle offers Kyle a gentle near-smile of his own."Not a lot of people know this," he whispers conspiratorially to the child, "But Santa was… left alone too, a little younger than you were." A surprised blink from the boy, who ventures uncertainly, "Really…?" After all, that wasn't ever in the stories! "Mmhm," affirms the current Claus, nodding a little, "I know it's hard… but your parents would want you to be strong, like mine did, Kyle. They might not be here where you can see them, but they're always with you, right here." His other hand touches his chest, then the boy's, "They'll always be watching over you. I… know it's lonely now, it was lonely for me for a long time, but— look— now I have a new family of all these wonderful elves…" A turn of his head, a smile curving a little stronger as he glances to the trio of 'Christmas Elves' gathered 'round on the stage, "…and you will too."

Kyle's attempting a small little smile, then, when Delilah comes out with the gargantuan teddy bear, and his eyes grow big as saucers. "Well, look at this," Doyle declares more brightly, "I think my little elf's found you something in the back! Maybe Mary here can carry it for you…" As the teenager steps over to accept the bear with an amused roll of her eyes, 'Santa' reaches into his coat and draws out an envelope, offering it over to her with the quiet word, "Give this to whoever's in charge over there - Fulk, I think?" Sure, it's not exactly a trust fund for the kid that he set up through a proxy, but it's most of what's left from the nest egg his future self transferred into his account. Enough to probably put Kyle through a few years of college once he's old enough. So long as he doesn't try to go Ivy League or anything.

Leaning on the back of Doyle's chair, Colette has to straighten up a little and cover her face with one hand as she listens to Doyle. One thumb wipes at each of her eyes, lips pressed tight and held fast by pressure from her teeth. She clears her throat, quietly and awkwardly, and watches the exchange between the Santa of Summer Meadows and young Kyle. Blinking her eyes to keep back what her thumb couldn't wipe away entirely, Colette stares down at her feet, a lock of white hair falling over one eye.

She reaches out a hand, resting it on Doyle's shoulder, squeezing once, and then walks around the chair, breathing in deep and offering a smile to Kaylee that's clearly one of restraint. She motions to the house, clearly indicating the need to just step inside for a minute and pull herself together.

There's plenty more kids who need their Christmas brightened, and it wouldn't do them any good to see one of Santa's elves crying. So up that short flight of stairs she goes, swallowing back the smile as the door opens, pausing only to glance back over her shoulder at Kyle on Doyle's lap, then steps into the house with a creak of the door.

Delilah , having been in the house getting the bear, misses pretty much all the sad stuff. Thank goodness. As a result she remains the smilingest of the elves; and the look on Kyle's face is priceless. "Merry Christmas, Kyle." The kid could probably sleep on the bear! Samson is disconcerted by the size of stuffed things, but Delilah crouches to let the boy in on something as the big bear begins to be intercepted. "He really loves hugs- be sure to give him at least two a day, okay?"

There is total silence from Kaylee, as she listens to her friend converse with the child. The smile Doyle gets in return is an affectionate one, full of pride. They live in the same house together and there is so much she doesn't know about the man. He had been so against her idea, but here he was embracing the very part he didn't want in the first place

Blue eyes flicker to Colette, they seem to have a touch of moisture at the edges as well, and she gives the teenage a small understanding nod of her head. There are sniffles heard around those closest to the porch as they hear what Santa Clause has to say, a few parents hugging their kids close. Life could be so much worse then it was. They could be this kid, who has nothing.

Glancing down at her binder, fingers start flipping through the pages, a small gentle smile touches Kaylee's lips. When she started this whole thing, she wasn't sure she should. It seemed almost too big, when the letters started rolling in, but as she hoped the Ferrymen and even people outside the organization had banded together to help keep her from drowning in the responsibility of the whole project.

That this moment, Kaylee can't help but wonder how she got so damn lucky with the friends she has ended up with.

Merry Christmas, Kyle.. indeed.

Merry Christmas….Everyone.

But wait! What of the mysterious red letter that Billy Jean received that day, you ask?

Well, when she opens it later with her family she recieves a shock when she finds out that Santa does indeed see all, whether you've been naughty or not and she realizes that he gave her the benefit of the doubt this time around!

Dear Billy Jean,

Good little girls shouldn't ask for people to be spanked.

Santa Claus

P.S. But don't worry Danko will be getting a very large lump of coal in his stocking.

That's right Boys and Girls…. there is a Santa Claus and he's watching you!


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