Summary: A poem written by Agent K on Christmas Eve.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters I only own the changes made to the classic poem.

A/N: I wrote a poem about how I feel on Christmas Eve every year and it inspired me to tweak it and expand it to fit K. The pain and sadness depicted in this poem is exactly how I've felt every Christmas Eve since I was eleven. I don't remember exactly what happened that made me feel this way every year, but my subconscious must be associating Christmas Eve with something bad and I have yet to figure out what that something is. But anyway, on with the poem!

'Twas the night before Christmas

And under the sky

Not a creature was stirring

Except for this spy

My name is Karen Daring

I live in Pleasant Hills

But I cannot sleep

For I have tears to spill

But worry not

To my life, I'm not a threat

It's just that every Christmas Eve

My pillow gets wet

It's become a tradition

Soaking my pillow in tears

It's been this way for a while

For many, many years

I look to my right

Where my husband is sleeping

My husband, Dick Daring,

Cannot hear me weeping

It's really not fun

Lying awake in bed

So I decide to get up

I need to clear my head

I check on my daughter

Riley is her name

She's sleeping soundly

Showing no signs of pain

Next, I open Todd's door

I peek in on my son

He's asleep too

Probably dreaming of fun

I go out to the garage

And with tears in my eyes

I look at the C.A.R

That made me the envy of the other spies

Even though he wonders

Why I'm Dick Daring's wife

Whenever I need him

He always comes to life

Tonight is not different

As I sit in his front seat

He tries to soothe the depression

That he swears I can beat

C.A.R speaks calming words

But the pain doesn't leave

This happens to me

Every Christmas Eve

After about an hour

I go back to my room

I get back in bed

It'll be morning soon

My husband wakes and sees me crying

And looks at me with concern

This is something about me

I never wanted him to learn

He puts his arms around me

And lets me cry it out

He knows it's something

I don't want to talk about

I always cry on Christmas Eve

But even as Dick's shirt gets wetter

I know in my heart

That tomorrow will be better

A/N: I didn't mean for it to run that long, but oh well. It gets the story across. And it actually made me feel a little better, I should write when I'm depressed more often. Anyway, Merry Christmas everybody!