You don't need to have read OSAS or Avenging Heaven to understand this, but it may give you a clearer aspect of what Gene is talking about near the end. This is set December 23, 1983, 20 days after the trial.

Gene stared angrily at the man across the table from him.

"So, Saint Nick, you decide to steal from the children as well as give to them, huh?"

"No...No Mr. 'unt, it's not like that!"

"Well then, what's it like? Cause from where I'm looking in, you look bloody GUILTY!"

"Well, see, my brother, 'e, 'e came up wif the idea. 'e said that no one would miss a present or two. An' then we could sell those and give me mum a great Christmas."

"By stealing presents from children."

"No one missed 'em! We only took one or two each time! All the kiddies still 'ad presents!"

"Doesn't matter, dickhead. You're still nicked."

"No! You can't! I've gotta go to the hospital tonight! I've gotta hand out presents there!"

"Shut it."

Once the Santa impersonator was safely in the cells, Gene went back to his desk for a scotch before calling the foundation. How was he supposed to tell them that one of their employees was robbing them blind? Not only them, but the poor children? And so close to Christmas.

Gene looked at the calendar. Only two days left. He had no idea still what to get Alex, and it was looking like an IOU was on the cards for this year. If none of the Ryan Burns catastrophe had happened, he knew what he could get her, but he didn't know this Alex anymore. The only jewellery she wore was the silver chain around her neck. She refused to wear perfume, and she didn't eat, not even candies. Maybe just some flowers would work. She didn't have any aversions to flowers that he knew of.

Mind made up, Gene dialled the number to the Foundation.

~(*)~

Three hours later, Gene was not exactly sure how he ended up in a Santa suit, giving presents to the children in hospital. For some reason, when the person on the other end lamented about how difficult it would be to find someone to replace the Santa at this time, he had volunteered without thinking. It had to have been something about those kiddos. He had phoned Alex to tell her that he would be late, and went straight to the hospital after work, making sure he was well inside before he changed into his Santa costume that the Foundation had sent over earlier, causing an uproar in CID.

He had always hated hospitals, but having to visit Alex everyday while she was recovering had made him somewhat numb to the discomfort he felt at seeing the sick and dying. Steeling himself and scratching at the itchy white beard on his face, Gene walked into the children's ward.

"HO! HO! HO!" he called, trying to sound merry and twist his face into a smile. He saw faces twist his way, and resisted the urge to scowl and leave the room. He had to do this for the children. The bastard in the cells certainly wouldn't have done it.

Gene walked over to the first child, a little girl. Her bright blue eyes stared up at him uncertainly.

"Hello love," he said kindly. "What's your name?"

"Cassandra," she said shyly.

"I've got something for you," Gene said, rummaging in the red sack full of presents that had come along with the suit. He had been told that the boys were wrapped in red and blue and the girls were purple and green. Gene pulled out a green present and handed it to the little girl whose face instantly lit up. She ripped the package open and squealed in delight as a pony toy was revealed.

"Thank you, Santa!" the girl said, hugging him.

For the next hour, Gene passed around presents, all of the children having varying reactions, but all along the same lines of Cassandra.

He approached the last child in the ward, who had not joined in the riotous affair. She had instead stayed with her back to him, head on her knees, staring out the window. Gene sat next to her on her cot, but she didn't bother to look at who was sitting next to her.

"What's your name?" Gene asked.

The girl hardly acknowledged him, her long brown hair hiding her face. Finally, when Gene was just about ready to drop off her present and leave, she answered.

"Annie," she said softly. In those two syllables, Gene could hear the brokenness of her voice, the exact same thing he heard whenever Alex spoke.

"I've got a friend named Annie," Gene said. "She works for the police, putting all the naughty men and women away. "

"Then why didn't she get my daddy?"

"What do you mean?" Gene asked.

"Daddy...he nearly killed me. He beat mummy to death. And then he ran away. They still can't find him." The little girl turned to him, her hazel eyes pleading.

Gene's breath was knocked out of him. This girl was a carbon copy of Bolly, except she was about twenty-five years younger. The look in her eyes was the same, the quiet desperation of her voice a perfect match.

And just like with Alex, he couldn't answer her question. He sat next to her, unsure of what to do when she suddenly snuggled up against him.

"I don't need your presents. You can't give me anything I want. Because the only thing I want is mummy back."

Gene pulled the little girl up on his lap, looking her straight in the eyes. "No," he said. "I can't bring her back. But wouldn't you like something to do besides stare out the window all day? Something else to think about?"

Annie thought about it for a moment before nodding shyly. Gene leant over, pulling the last present out of his bag.

The little girl carefully tore away the purple paper to reveal a colouring book and a bundle of crayons. She broke into a small smile that barely reached her eyes. "Thanks Santa," she said.

"You're welcome Annie."

"Santa? Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah," Gene said, caught off guard.

"What's your real name?"

"Eh?"

"Daddy made sure I knew that Santa didn't exist. That there was no such thing as a nice gift giving old man who snuck into your chimneys at night. So, what's your real name?"

"I'm Gene," he said quietly.

"Thank you Gene. You made this Christmas slightly more bearable. "

"Annie, what was your father's name? I'm a copper. I can try and help."

She smiled, but the grin this time did not reach her eyes. "I don't know what good it'll do, but his name is Anthony Bryan. Tony for short. I was named after him."

Gene's jaw dropped. "Tony Bryan?" he asked. "Short brown hair, grey eyes?"

"Yeah. How do you know him?"

"You won't believe this, but I arrested him this afternoon. He was the one who was supposed to be coming here."

The little girl looked up at him in disbelief. "You got him arrested?"

Gene nodded, and the little girl broke into a huge smile, hugging him.

"Thank you, Gene. You've made my Christmas."

He patted her on the head. "Just doing my job," he said before getting off the bed and starting out of the ward.

As he got past the bed, the nurses apprehended him.

"What did you do?" one of them asked. "We've been trying to get Annie to smile for days, but she wouldn't."

"I gave her the only news she wanted to hear. Her dad's in jail." The nurses broke out into huge grins.

Smirking to himself, Gene got into the Quattro, forgetting he was still wearing the Santa outfit.

~(*)~

He heard the television as he entered his house. That was a good sign. Alex should be up. He could give her the present he had gotten on the way home.

Gene went downstairs, where both Annie and Alex were sitting on the sofa, watching some useless program.

Alex heard his entrance, her senses heightened ever since her captivity, and turned to look at him. To his delight, he saw a grin tugging its way across her face.

"Merry Christmas Bolly," he said, making Annie jump. She hadn't noticed him entering the room. "And you too Annie."

"Are you drunk or in the middle of a bet?" Annie asked.

"Neither, thank you very much, Little Miss Judgemental. I had to fill in for a Santa I nicked this afternoon. I had to deliver presents to the children's ward at the hospital."

He saw Alex flinch at the word hospital. He didn't blame her.

"I've got some presents for you two," Gene said. "Let me get them out of my bag."

To Annie, he presented a record of Herb Albert, someone he knew she would appreciate. For Alex, out of the bag, he pulled a bouquet of azaleas. He knew they were her favourite flower and hoped that she would like them.

Her face split into a huge grin at the sight of them. "Thank you, Gene," she said quietly. He grinned back at her, thinking of the little Annie he had met at the hospital today. He had made that little girl's Christmas. Maybe, just by being there, he could make Alex's. It was certainly worth a try.

Merry Christmas.

Rant