Warm feelings are generally what poeple feel around this time of year. Christmas comes, they all get into the 'spirit' and decorate and spend copious amounts of money on things that will get shoved under the bed in a few months time.

Not that Ivan is bitter (no no that's Barnaby's job), he likes Christmas well enough. He likes the lights and the trees and the palpable happiness that surrounds everyone.

He just hates being alone. On a day that goes down in history as one to be spent with family and loved ones. Or any other day really. But that's just him being selfish as he trudges through his house, shuffling from room to room before he decides to call it a night, Dear Santa, no cookies this year, Merry Christmas, see you next year.

But the silence is broken by a knocking on his door, in the middle of the night and he bristles on instinct becasue it's passed 12, its technically Christmas and whothehellwouldbeknocing?

And then he's opening the door, cautiously at first, face pressed against it's edge as his eyes peer out into the darkness of his yard. All caution is thrown out the window, heart melting at the sight of a golden lab with a red nose and heart stopping at a hero dressed in a red suit. Ivan can't help himself, couldn't stop the way he throws himself at the other man, latching onto his shoulders ad burying his face in his fluffy coat.

And the sound of his laughter, choked with emotion as it is, is brighter than any decorative lights, holds more happiness than any stressed, last minute shoppers, and provides more than enough reminder of the happy holiday season.