There was going to be something very special about the Christmas that was approaching in this particular household this year. No oft-repeated declarations that the little mistress of the house wanted a baby to play with, that much was certain, because the bigger mistress of the house was growing rounder by the day providing it. It was going to be their first Christmas as a proper family - husband, wife, and daughter, with their dog and feline, and the prospect of a baby brother in the new year sometime. And though Lyneth was always excitable about Christmas, she just didn't seem to be able to keep a lid on it this year.

Despite the damp fog that had settled over the city in the last couple of days, she was brimful of exuberance, and unfortunately, Des was the one responsible for corralling her today, while Piper was out. The little girl burst in from the garden, waving his umbrella around, shedding raindrops everywhere and singing at the top of her lungs. "Deck the halls with Daddy's brolly, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!"

Thankfully, Desmond adored Lyneth so much that he just couldn't bear to scold her, even when she probably needed scolding. There was little chance of her becoming spoiled though, as it was all in good fun, and even if she did manage to make a mess, it made Oisin happy to clean up after her (even if he did grumble about it). "Lynnie!" Des laughed as she burst into the kitchen. "You're not supposed to bring the rain in with you!" He made a grab for the umbrella before they were both soaking wet.

It wasn't so much the raindrops scattered from the umbrella that would have Oisin whooping in delight as the splatter of mud from the little girl's wellington boots all over the kitchen floor. She relinquished the umbrella with a cheeky giggle, spinning about to hug her Daddy tight about the hips. No more knee hugs from a toddler - with Lyneth grown up just a little bit more, it was far more comfortable to be hugged by her. "It's nearly Christmas!"

"You wouldn't know it from the weather," Des muttered. He'd been hoping for some snow for Christmas. It just didn't seem right that it was raining, but there was enough time left that they might still have a white Christmas. "Are you satisfied now that Pinea will be okay inside for a few weeks?" he asked, stretching out his arms to collapse the umbrella without showering her with water as she hugged his hips. There was something he wanted to talk to her about now that Piper wasn't there, but first things first.

The little half-Fae nodded excitedly, finally remembering to take her wellies off and leave them by the door. Oisin was on the ball today - he might have been barely visible, but the mud and water was already gone from the slate tiles that covered the kitchen floor. "Are we makin' gingerbread or cookies or somethin' sweet today, Daddy?"

"Hmm, you remember what happened last year when we tried to make gingerbread?" Des asked, as he set the umbrella near her boots to dry. He noticed that Oisin was really on his toes today, but he said nothing of it, having learned the hard way that the little brownie preferred it that way.

She cackled wickedly at the memory of the minor disaster that had been their first attempt at making gingerbread cookies to hang on the tree the year before. Somehow baking with Lyneth always seemed to end up with everyone wearing more flour than had gone into the bowl in the first place. "I was littler then," she pointed out, tipping back her head in a tumble of curls to grin up at her father. "Maybe it won't be so sticky this time."

Somehow, Des couldn't imagine the words Lyneth and sticky not being part of the same sentence when it came to baking in the kitchen, no matter how old she was. He swore she always ended up wearing more flour than what they put in the dough, but he couldn't deny that they always had a lot of fun. "Practice does make perfect, so they say," he admitted, a pushover really for just about anything Lyneth wanted. He bopped her gently on the nose. "Anyone lately tell you that you just keep getting cuter and cuter?"

"Jus' you," she told him with her familiar beaming smile firmly in place, her expression bright beneath those sparkling turquoise eyes. "And besides, Mummy's been out shopping and she'll be all tired when she comes home and we was going to make her something sweet for the baby."

"Okay, what did you have in mind?" he asked, all too willing to go along with her plan. He kind of missed picking her up in his arms and carrying her around on his hip, but she was still small enough that she wasn't afraid to climb up onto his lap or into their bed or ride on his back from time to time. She was growing up too fast for him, but that was only more reason to enjoy every second with her while she was still little.

"Choklit!" Some things never changed. No matter how big Lyneth got, that particular sweet treat was always going to be right at the top of her list of wonderful things she liked to have and to share. "Mummy said there's Nutty-lar in the fridge, and she said that we could make choklit tarts with them, and she left the ress-pee on the board." She pointed toward the whiteboard that hung on the wall, covered in various notes to remind the adults in the house what they were supposed to be doing. Stuck in the center was Piper's recipe for short crust pastry.

"Chocolate tarts?" Des echoed, doubtfully with a worried frown. That sounded almost as hard to make as gingerbread. He'd never been very good in the kitchen - at least, as far as baked goods went - until he met Piper and started playing around in the kitchen with Lyneth. He glanced at the whiteboard, knowing that if Piper had left a recipe there for them and told Lyneth where to find the ingredients, that was her way of telling them what she wanted them to make. "Okay," he said, reaching over to pluck the recipe off the board and read it over. "Let's see what it says."

Thankfully, it was one of the simplest recipes in Piper's formidable array of baked goods. All they needed was flour, butter, and a little salt and water, to make the pastry, and to spend a little time cutting out the round shapes before dolloping Nutella into each one. Even better, it was only twenty minutes in the oven. Piper knew her cheeky little miss very well, and appreciated that Des didn't always want to be dragged into making complicated treats when Lyneth was in the mood.

He skimmed over the recipe, deciding it shouldn't be too hard a task for them, and set out gathering the ingredients with Lyneth's help. "We're going to need flour and butter to make the dough. A big bowl for mixing it up in, a rolling pin, and Nutella." He glanced up from the recipe and over at Lyneth. "You get the butter and Nutella, and I'll get the rest," he instructed.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Daddy Man!" Cackling impishly, the little girl saluted, turning in a whirl of chestnut curls to head over to the fridge. She contemplated it for a moment, and turned back to find the step they'd had to find for her once it had become clear that she was bound and determined to "help" in the kitchen. Little fairy hands heaved at the handle on the fridge door to open it as she set her little step in place, only just getting it open before the little girl clocked her head on the edge as she straightened up. "Ow ....What does Nutty-lar look like?"

Gathering her two shivering little friends into her hands, Lyneth hugged them affectionately, letting the fairies tuck themselves close against her neck, under the heavy hang of her hair. Listening to them for a moment, she smiled warmly. "They fort they could get the door open from the inside, but they couldn't," she translated for Des. "They was tryin' to help."

"They're lucky we heard them in time," Des remarked, as he set the Nutella and butter on the counter and went about gathering the rest of the things they would need. "Are they okay?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at her and her fairy friends, with a look of concern on his face. They were part of the family, too, after all.

She nodded, pulling her little stool over to the table. "They're jus' cold," she assured her father, stumping up onto the stool to stand at the ready for helping, clumsy fingers rolling her sleeves up. Helping in the kitchen was one of Lyneth's favorite things to do, and though she was still too small to do much, there was always something she could be trusted with. Pastry was a doddle compared with some of the things Des had had to cook with her help over the last eighteen months or so.

He knelt down beside her to help her roll up her sleeves when she made her way over with her stool and thumped down beside him. "I have a very important question for you," he started, with an equally serious look on his face.

She looked up at him, trust filling the big eyes he knew so well these days. There could be no doubt that Des was utterly adored by the two women in his life, adult and child, each devoted to him in their own way. "Is it a scary question?"

"No, but it's a secret," he said, as he rolled up her sleeves, one little arm at a time. He didn't bother to ask if she could keep a secret when he already knew that she could. "It's about your Mum. I've been trying to figure out what to get her for Christmas, and I thought you might want to help."

"Oooh." Curious excitement rose on the little girl's face once again as she beamed up at him - anything to do with Christmas was guaranteed to delight her, and the prospect of being part of a special secret even more so. She still remembered how well her parents had kept the secret of their having bought Knip for her last year, and how sneaky they had been about revealing him on Christmas morning. "Are you gonna get her a monkey to help with my baby brother?"

He chuckled at her question. "No! I don't think that will be necessary. She managed just fine without a monkey to help her with you, didn't she?" he asked, tapping a finger against her nose with an adoring smile. "What do you think she would like?" he asked curiously.

Lyneth giggled, her nose crinkling under the tap he gave the little button that just didn't seem to want to grow with the rest of her. "Mummy likes pretty things, but she doesn't have much of them," she offered, giving the matter considerable thought. "She buys pretty things for me and for you, but she doesn't buy them for her, and she's pretty and she should have pretty things, shouldn't she?"

"She should," Desmond agreed. He'd been thinking along those lines already, but he wasn't quite sure what Piper would like. Diamonds" Pearls" Sapphires" Something different, but something that suited her. Something girly and pretty and completely impractical. "Some kind of jewelry maybe?" he asked as he straightened to start making the dough.

"I fink Mummy should have a pretty snowflake what sparkles," came the eventual words of wisdom from the little person at his side, offered up only when she was absolutely certain that she had measured out the exactly precise amount of flour that was necessary according to Mummy's recipe. It took a while - for some reason, she was squinting at the dial with only one eye.

"What kind of snowflake" Like a necklace or earrings?" he asked, thinking that was probably something he could manage to find for her easily enough. Thankfully, he was supervising the making of the dough, and even then, Oisin was likely to have quite the mess to clean up afterwards.

Lyneth nodded, tipping the flour into the mixing bowl without a second thought ....and momentarily disappearing in the cloud that rose because of it. Her giggles, however, pinpointed her as reaching for the butter, which no one in their right mind ever let her measure out on her own. "Like a pretty sparkly thing she can wear and get all blushy and then you have to go to bed for a while," she informed Des as the flour cloud descended, revealing a grin on her little face that really was far too knowing for comfort.

No one except Des, but he was keeping a watchful eye, even through the flour cloud. He waved a hand to try and clear the flour out of the air, coughing only once, but it was too late - they were both pretty much covered in the stuff already. He couldn't help but chuckle at Lyneth's description of how Piper might thank him for her sparkly, but didn't bother to ask what she thought went on in there. "Never you mind about that," he said, tweaking her flour-covered nose affectionately. "Measure the butter!" he reminded before she just plopped the whole stick in the mixture.

She pouted, sticking her tongue out at him with a low giggle at his admonition. But then, they did both remembered the gingerbread disaster from last year. Piper had almost wet herself laughing at the sheer disappointment on both their faces when the blackened lumps of inedible goo had come out of the oven. Under Des' watchful eye, Lyneth pulled the butter to pieces in her fingers, dumping each bit into the measuring bowl.

"So, a sparkly snowflake," he repeated. "Would you like to come shopping with me and help me pick something out?" he asked, as he helped her soften the butter and mix it up with the flour.

"Yus," she agreed vehemently. "'Cos you got to help me buy Mummy's present from me and big people won't sell it to me if I'm on my own, and if I'm with Mummy, she'll see it and it won't be a surprise, and Knip can't buy it 'cos he gets distracted by sparkly things and tries to hunt them, and he'll break something and I don't have that much pocket money." All this was offered up while she was up to her wrists in the bowl, little hands squidging the butter and flour into something approximating breadcrumbs.

Desmond couldn't help but laugh at that. It wasn't quite right, but it did rhyme, and sometimes that was all that mattered. "My point is you can't fool Santa, but if you're really lucky and really good, maybe he'll pay you a visit, so you can tell him your Christmas wish in person." He was just about done rolling out the dough. She only had to be patient for another few minutes, which was admittedly hard when one was as young as Lyneth.

"Should I paint a sign inna garding so he knows where I am?" she asked curiously, clearly seeking the input of the finest legal mind in the house to help her set up her plan, even if she wasn't giving away the salient details.

Most of the time, Des could translate Lyneth's way of speaking, but every now and then, she said something that completely stumped him. Now was one of those times. "I'm sorry. Paint a sign in the garden?" he asked, needing clarification. "You ready to start cutting?" he added, as an afterthought, patting the dough to make sure it wasn't too thick or too thin, though it was mostly a guess as he'd never made tarts before.

She nodded absently in answer to his query, letting out one of those peculiar little whistles as busy little hands seized the cookie cutter and started work. All Lyneth did was cut the shape - pretty soon the air was filled with helpful fairies lifting each rounded piece of pastry free to settle them into the indents in the tray snugly. They only managed to get eight done before Lyneth ran out of dough, though, expectant eyes turning to Des for the remaining dough to be reformed and rolled out again hopefully.

"Lynnie, Santa doesn't need a sign in the garden. Santa is magic. He knows where you are and what you're doing right this very minute!" he said, poking a finger at her nose as the fairies took care of the little round pieces of pastry. He smiled fondly down at her, hoping she wouldn't guess the truth behind Santa, before starting on rolling out the second batch of dough.

"So he knows I want to talk to him, then?" she asked, her brows rising high above her hopeful expression as she looked up at her Daddy. "So he might not need me to be all sleepy-byes?" Now there was a complex question for Des to attempt - on the one hand, they wanted Lyneth asleep fairly promptly on Christmas Eve; on the other hand, she might only put half of herself to sleep if she thought there was a chance of ambushing Jolly Old St. Nick.

"I think if you want to talk to Santa that badly, he'll find a way to come to you," he said, formulating a little plan in his head that might make Lyneth happy, though he'd have to check with Piper first. It wasn't long before the second batch of dough was rolled out and ready for cutting.

She beamed happily, hugging him - floury hair and buttery hands and all - before taking up her little cookie cutter again. Four more circles later, and there was just enough dough left to cut out the tiny stars they were going to put on top of the Nutella filling. "Does that mean I can stay up all night on Chris'mas Steve with you and Mummy?"

Des knew better than to make cookies in his good clothes. Baking with Lyneth always ended up with both of them needing a bath and a change of clothing. He chuckled at Lyneth's suggestion as he unscrewed the jar of Nutella. "No, it means you will go to bed like a good girl, but maybe if you're very lucky, Santa will visit before then."

"Will he come if I sing my song what I'm learning at school all about him?" she asked hopefully, watching as the precious jar of hazelnut spread was opened. This could either get very messy, or end quickly, depending on whether or not Des could get the cheeky little miss to actually put the Nutella into the pastry cases before inserting her entire hand into the jar to lick her fingers clean.

"What song is that?" he asked, grabbing a spoon, which was a far better and neater method of scooping Nutella than Lyneth's fingers. He hoped it wasn't that silly song about Mommy kissing Santa, though if his idea went according to plan, that could very well come to pass.

He knew his daughter a little too well. Given just the slightest hint he wanted to hear a song, she dove straight in, concentrating more on the words than on what she was doing, which gave Des a fighting chance when it came to filling the little pastry cases. "Jolly Old Saint Nicholas lean your ear this way; don't you tell a single soul what I'm goin' to say; Chris'mas Steve is comin' soon, now you dear old man; whisper what you'll bring to me, tell me if you can ..."

As she sang her song, he scooped a dollop of hazelnut spread into the center of each of the tarts, joining her halfway through the lyrics, changing the lyrics of the song just a teensy bit. "When the clock is striking twelve, when Lynnie's fast asleep, down the chimney broad and black, with your pack you'll creep..."

She giggled as he joined in, delighted that her Daddy knew the song she'd been so studiously learning over the past couple of weeks. "All the stockin's you will find hangin' in a row; mine is big and sparkly pink, and it has a bow ..." Not quite the lyrics she'd been taught, but Des had started it.

Des handed the spoon to Lyneth so she could finish dropping the filling into the middle of the tarts, letting her take over the singing, as he'd forgotten most of the words. He wondered if they should take her caroling. Did people even do that anymore, especially here on Rhy'Din?

"Johnny wants a ....hmm-mm-mm ....Susie wants a sled," the little girl crooned along through the last verse, dolloping filling haphazardly into the tarts, oblivious to the sound of the front door opening and closing. "Nellie wants a picture book, lellow, blue, and ...um ..." The singing faltered as Lyneth ran out of words, her shoulders sagging in disappointment with herself.

"Red!" Des prompted. Even if he had forgotten the words, red was the only color that rhymed with sled. He frowned as she trailed off, wondering what was the matter suddenly. "Sweetheart, I'm sure Santa knows your heart's desire and will bring you whatever you want," he assured her quietly, hearing the door and knowing Piper had arrived home. "Promise."

"I hope so," the little girl sighed softly, brightening up a little as Knip and Loki padded into the kitchen in search of them both, leaving muddy paw prints on the floor that Oisin was cleaning up almost as quickly as they were left. "But I can't 'member the words to his song."

Des frowned a little at Piper's suggestion, unsure what to say to Lyneth to make her feel better. He remembered when he'd first them, how Lyneth had charmed him, but it was Piper he'd fallen in love with. He hadn't realized at the time how hard this parenting thing could be, but he knew if he had the chance to do it all over again, he wouldn't change a thing. "I love you," he echoed, returning her kiss. He knew she wasn't just sending him upstairs for Lyneth's sake, but for his own.

Gentle finger stroked his cheek as his wife smiled at him. She really did know her little family far too well. "Besides, you are covered in flour," she pointed out in amusement. "I'm sure both of you will enjoy getting changed and covering the carpet in it for Oisin to clean up."

He looked down at himself, as if just noticing his flour-covered self for the first time. "I should probably take a quick shower," he admitted. "Can you keep an eye on the tarts" I set the timer."

Piper chuckled. "Of course I can," she promised. "Go and make a mess with little miss trouble. And if she asks, no, there are no peas in tonight's dinner." She winked at Des, kissing him once more just because she could, and drew away, patting his rear with warm affection.

He sighed as she shared one last kiss. "I really am the luckiest man in Rhy'Din," he told her, smiling finally when she patted his rear. No, it wasn't his brother, though Jon might make a good argument for the second luckiest man in Rhy'Din; it was definitely Desmond - Piper and Lyneth were proof of that. He started toward the stairs, leaving a trail of flour behind him.

Her laughter followed him, though dinner was likely to wait a few minutes while she stashed a few pertinent purchases where little fingers - and the willing accomplice in Daddy - were unlikely to find them. Knip was sitting at the top of the stairs, seemingly resigned to the fact that he had been hugged to within an inch of his life and now needed to groom the flour off his fur. He mewed encouragingly at Des as the man came within range, butting one paw against Des' foot affectionately before returning to his grooming.

Whatever Knip really was, he looked like a cat and acted like a cat, and so, as far as Des was concerned, he was a cat. He paused at the top of the stairs to lean down and scritch the fur between the Kneazle's ears before stepping around him to continue on his way. He stopped at Lyneth's room and rapped his knuckles against the door to announce his presence. "Can I come in?"

The Kneazle had learned to love his adoptive family for the sake of the little girl he had attached himself to so firmly, spoiled for affection when he chose to be adorably feline. He even purred these days, especially for head stritches. Intelligent eyes watched Des across the landing to Lyneth's door, which stood open, as always.

Inside, the little girl was in her vest and tights, inspecting the contents of her drawers as she considered what she was going to put on, having already decided against pajamas so soon. She looked up at Des with a grin. "Course you can come in, you're my daddy!"

"Yes, but one of these days, you're going to decide you want privacy, and you'll keep your door shut, and I'll have to knock to make sure it's okay to come inside," he pointed out, knowing that day was coming. Hopefully, not too soon though. She was already growing up too fast for him. He brushed as much flour off as he could before stepping inside, not wanting to make a mess of her room, too.

"Fliss doesn' keep her door shut," Lyneth pointed out, turning around to throw her arms about Des' waist and hug him tight. "Did you say hello to the baby' Is he hungry' What's for dinner" Is there peas?" Yes, Piper did know her daughter rather well.

"Mmm, yes, no, I don't know, and no," he replied, answering each of her questions in order of how they were asked. He was fairly confident there would come a time when even Fliss would want to close her bedroom door, but Des didn't remark on it. He crouched down so that they were nearly at eye level and pulled her into his arms to return her hug. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you, pumpkin?" he asked, his voice a little muffled by her hair.

She snuggled into him, smiling happily as her Daddy wrapped her up in a warm hug. His question, however, made that smile fade as she bit her lip, drawing back to look at him with worried eyes. "I don' want to make you mad or sad, or make Mummy cry again," she said quietly. For all the wonderful things that had happened over the past year, Lyneth would always put the people she loved ahead of herself - it was the perfect defense, even if she didn't know it.

"Sweetheart," Des started, pulling away just a little so that he could brush some hair from her face, which was really just an excuse to touch her. "Mummy and I love you more than anything in the whole world. There's nothing you can do or say that will ever change that, even if we do get mad or sad sometimes. That's just part of life. We are always going to be here for you, and there's nothing you can't tell us."

There was a long pause, and Des found himself in the unenviable position of watching the two parts of his daughter war with each other for dominance in her big, beautiful eyes. The elder Fae part that was wise and confident, certain of success ....and the young, human part who just wanted to love and be loved. The child won out, and in a hushed whisper, Lyneth confessed guiltily. "M'scared."

Des watched and waited patiently while the two sides of Lyneth struggled for dominance, relieved when the child won out. He wasn't too surprised at her admission, almost relieved at that, too. She needed to trust them enough to tell them when something was bothering her, not only for her own sake, but for theirs. "Okay, what are you scared of?" he asked, though he had a pretty good idea what she feared most.

The turquoise eyes he knew so well by now were ever so slightly wet, the little girl who loved him so deeply clinging onto her chosen father with clenched fists as he looked at her. "That I'm goin' to lose," she said in a tiny voice, still believing that she would have to fight the Fae that would come for her. She didn't know that the real fight was already won, that Des was the one who would have to fight for real when the time came, so very certain that she was going to make a mistake and hurt everyone she loved because of it.

"You're not silly," he said as she hugged him tight, his arms going around her tiny self to hold her close. "You and your mother are the best thing that ever happened to me, Lyneth. I want you to know that." There was more, but he wasn't quite sure how to put it all into words.

He couldn't possibly have known that his words were so easily echoed back to him. She just didn't know how to tell him that everything was better now he was her father. With the older part of her beginning to resume the easy mesh that made Lyneth so much fun to try and navigate - as well as so infuriating, at times - she cuddled closer. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Lynnie," he whispered back, deeply touched by her easy affection, both in words and actions. "What do you say we get cleaned up and go have dinner" Maybe if we're lucky, Mummy will let us try one of those tarts."

She drew back, sniffing just once more as she nodded. She looked down at her vest. "M'all wet," was her rather pragmatic complaint. "I don' wanna wear my jammies yet, an' Mummy'll make me if she sees m'all wet. Can I wear somefing else?"

"Yes, you can wear something else," he said, thinking it was a simple enough request and that Piper wouldn't make too much of a fuss, considering the talk they'd just had. He brushed any stray tears from her face and smoothed her hair with his fingers. "You know, the best Christmas present I ever had was meeting you and your Mum."

"An' nen you married Mummy the next Chris'mas," she pointed out cheerfully. Des was a pretty big reason why this season was her favorite - this was Lyneth's fourth Christmas, and Des had been a major player in two of the three that had come before. She squeezed him once more, and tottered over to the chest of drawers, producing a top and skirt that could not have been more mismatched if she had tried. "An' you're all dusty, too."

"And now, I'm your Daddy, and you're going to have a baby brother," he added, climbing to his feet and following her over to the dresser. "And you're going to be the best big sister ever. Know how I know?" he asked, a smile on his face, a little amused at the mismatched clothing she chose, but what did it matter" They weren't going anywhere, and it didn't hurt anything to indulge her now and then.

"'Cos I got the bestest Mummy an' Daddy," she informed him with a sage nod, holding her hands up for him to maneuver the top over her head. It wasn't that she couldn't do it herself, but he was handy. The tears were forgotten, reassured by his confident promises. Even if he didn't know it, Des had a little magic of his own.

"Well, there is that, but no," he said with a small chuckle as he helped her with her top. "It's because you're special, Lyneth. And because your little brother is going to adore you."

"What is we goin' to call him?" she asked, her voice a little muffled until she popped out of the neck of her top, hair in disarray but grinning like a small ninja with a few evil plans of her own.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "We haven't decided yet. Do you have any suggestions?" he asked, as he tugged the shirt down over her. He and Piper hadn't really gotten that far yet. There was one name that was definitely not on the list - that of his father.

"One-Ball-Reilly," she said promptly, and giggled like a particularly evil Christmas elf. Quite where she'd picked that one up was anyone's guess, but it wasn't beyond the bounds of reality that Lyneth might well insist on it if they didn't present her with a few alternatives before the time came to peg a name on her little brother.

"What?" he said, chuckling to himself, clearly surprised by her suggestion. "Where'd you come up with that one?" he wondered, hoping it wasn't something she'd picked up from school.

"I hearded it at school," she offered, dashing his hopes with one sentence. "The big boys in Flisseses class was singin' it, an' the teachers told them not to, an' they singed it all quiet inna playground." She grinned, holding up her arms once again for the skirt to be dropped down over her head this time.

He wondered if she had any idea what it meant - he thought the other part of her that was Fae must, though he knew she preferred to let the child have dominance. "I wouldn't repeat it in front of your mother," he warned, knowing Piper might not take it so easily as he did. Though Reilly wasn't a bad name, he was pretty sure Piper wouldn't be too keen on the prefix.

"What if she asks me?" the cheeky little miss asked, wriggling into her skirt as she grinned up at her father. "You look like a old man - you look like Hump'y!" She cackled, pointing at his floury hair as she bounced on her toes.

"Then you give her a serious answer, not a cheeky answer like the one you just gave me!" he replied, as he helped her with her skirt before leaning close to tweak the end of her little pug nose. "Oh?" he asked, straightening as she commented on his hair. He stood up straight, trying to keep a serious look on his face. "You don't think I look distinguished?"

"What's disting squished?" she asked, looking up at him quite seriously. "'Cos you jus' look old. An' the Nutty-lar will be all done by now, an' Mummy won't let you have dinner bein' all messy and stuff."

His smile warmed and widened. Though he loved every intricate facet of Lyneth, this was the child-like Lyneth he'd grown to know and love - the one she loved to play best, the one that made her the happiest. "Yes, dear," he said. "Thank you for the reminder." As if Piper would actually prevent him from eating just because he had some flour in his hair. "How about you go downstairs and give Knip his dinner while I take a shower?"

"'Kay!" A last enthusiastic hug was thrown about his waist at this suggestion, all hint of the frightened little girl gone from her as she scurried out of the room, calling to her beloved Kneazle. Des had averted disaster with just enough truth to keep the tears and fears from taking over, restoring her faith in a season that had given her so much joy over the last couple of years.

He returned her hug, wishing he could hold onto her a little bit longer, keep her young and innocent just a little bit longer. His smile faded a little as she tottered out of the room to do his bidding. While it was true, he had just managed to avert disaster, the real test was still coming. He just hoped that when the time came, she'd keep her promise and trust him enough to do what Rufus had been teaching him.

But those were dark thoughts for another time, and had no place in a merry little household preparing for Christmas. As Lyneth's cackling giggles filtered up to him from downstairs, filling the house with her childlike laughter, it was easy to forget the looming danger. It would soon be Christmas, with all the joy that came with it. Now if it would only snow in the next few days ....it might even be perfect.

((Well, that got away from us somewhat, didn't it' :grin: But it'll all come good, just you wait and see! Massively throbbing thankidoodles to my partner in crime!))