A/N: Well, this was one of the more difficult stories for me to write. However, after much work, I have finished it. My person was, of course, Jeytonlover, and the prompt I chose was "Christmas, 10 years into the future." Enjoy!

Anyways, Merry (belated) holidays, and I hope that you all enjoy. Remember, leave a review; see endnotes for reason that you REALLY should review this one ;)

Emily

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters that you might recognize, nor do I own "The Heat is on in Saigon" from the wonderful musical Miss Saigon, or Black Beauty.

If he heard one more Christmas song, he was going to kill somebody. Preferably the smiling old man that sat at the end of the line he was currently standing in, though he would settle for the man in front of him who kept yelling at some poor sap named "Jimmy, you asshole."

No lie. That was the persons name.

Derek Venturi looked at his watch again. Ten minutes until the store closed. Ten more hellish minutes until he could honestly tell the kids that Santa was closed.

Oh, who in the hell was he kidding? Casey would murder him if they didn't get to sit on Santa's lap. As it was, she wasn't in the best of moods (Christmas tended to bring out the worst in her), and the fact that their four year old daughter had been doing the 'Chimney Sweep' dance, picked up from 'Daddy's friends' had not helped matters much. Apparently, it was okay when Haley was singing, "The heat is on in Saigon, the girls are hotter in Hell…" because that was 'cultured.' But, he staid quiet, knowing that he had to keep Casey happy, whatever it took, for God forbid there be a repeat of what he secretly called the 2012 massacre.

Okay, seriously, how long did it take to get through a line of kids? The story was closing very soon, and if his kids didn't get to see Santa, he was dead. Oh, he figured all the other kids in line would be heart broken, but really, that wasn't his problem. There'd be other Santa's. Besides, half the kids in the line looked too old to believe in Santa anyways. Better the kids learn soon that he didn't exist. .

As it was, he had already tried every trick imaginable to inch up in line, ranging from using his hockey prestige to promise tickets (the head elf turned out to be a fan of Derek's teams' biggest rivals), to flirting with the female elves (turns out the one he'd flirted with was the other elf's girlfriend). Sure, Casey would kill him if she learned about either of these attempts, but he was desperate at the time, and had figured that the girls would be so happy about Santa that they wouldn't tell mommy "how daddy got us to see Santa."

"Daddy, when will we see Santa?" demanded an impatient voice. Derek cringed slightly; he knew this tone. This was the "If I don't get what I want soon, there is going to be hell to pay" tone that his four-year-old daughter, Haley, often took up. As it was, he had already had to deal with handling a two and a half year old son for the past hour, which, when the kid was as curious as Josh, was a nightmare in and of itself. Add this to the fact that he had caught Haley repeatedly demonstrating the 'Chimney Sweep,' a dance that involved the thrusting of ones hips and several other suggestive moves, to another little girl, and he figured that if he lived through this, he was going to consider himself a hero.

Wait, was it, could it be…

"Due to popular demand, Santa will remain open for another half hour. Parents, don't forget that it costs just five dollars for a sitting, with a free picture thrown in! Thank you, and enjoy your Holidays. And remember…" Whatever the loudspeaker had left to say was lost amidst the flurry of voices that seemed to swell with the unexpected announcement. Derek let out a sigh of relief, one that seemed to join the multitude of others as parents relaxed a bit, and started to whip out cell phones to call their significant others and assure them that yes, they were going to get that damn picture with Santa.

Derek couldn't help but wonder what had made the store feel so kindly towards everyone as to keep Santa open. It was only later, when he was being charged for the picture, that he realized that they were no longer doing it for free.

"Da-ady!" Haley exclaimed, tugging hard on Derek's shirt. She looked up at him sternly, her arms crossed, her lips forming a pout. He could only imagine what she would be like when she was older. Already she was showing signs of being a miniature Casey Clone.

He couldn't quite decide whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.

He shifted Josh, who was thankfully asleep, in his arms. "Just a little longer, and then you'll see Santa."

"But I don't want to wait! I'm hungry," she pouted. Derek looked up, whispering a silent plea to whatever entity was up there to just help him make it through this.

It would seem that someone was listening, for suddenly, coming down the line, Derek saw another elf, holding in her arms a container of candy canes, and passing them out to the kids in the line.

If the girl had had alcohol, Derek would have fallen at his feet in worship. But candy canes were good enough. Haley loved them, and hopefully, that would keep her occupied just long enough for them to make it through this line.

"Merry Christmas, from all of us at Macy's!" the girl said, putting on a wide smile that Derek was sure was fake. But hey, who really cared if she was faking or not. She had candy canes, and Haley would be occupied for a few moments, and that was all that mattered.

When she finally reached them, her mouth dropped. "Oh, my god! Derek Venturi?"

Oh great. Just what he needed, a crazy fan. He put on a fake smile of his own, and nodded. The girl let out a squeal.

"Oh my god! It is! Do you remember me? We went to school together, and dated for a while," she exclaimed. Derek wondered where they managed to get this group of elves; if the actions of the elves he'd been seeing so far was an indication for how Santa would act, he was getting his kids out of there, picture or no picture.

But, still, he remembered his manners (Ha! he thought, see Casey, I can be nice!) "Of course I remember you. How could I forget?"

She giggled, evidently not realizing that he had purposely avoided saying her name. "So, what brings you down here? Nephew?" she asked, motioning to Josh.

It turned out that Derek didn't actually need to answer this, as Haley, who had been briefly occupied by a stand of shiny scarves, had realized suddenly that this elf was handing out candy canes, and she had not yet gotten one, something that she took great umbrage to. Impatiently, with a neon green scarf tied around her stomach, she stomped her feet and snorted, "Daddy!" Both Derek and the woman looked down at her. Pleased that she finally had their attention, she scraped her foot on the floor in an imitation of pawing, and falling back into character, snorted again.

"Daddy?" the girl repeated, her voice not so friendly anymore.

"Yup. This is Josh, and this is Haley," he said. While he certainly had no wish to start a conversation with this woman, he couldn't help but rub in the fact that he was a father and husband. He shifted Josh in his arms, making sure that the girl got a good look at his wedding ring.

Haley snorted loudly, and let out what was undoubtedly supposed to be a whinny. Derek shook his head. "I mean this is Ginger."

Haley bobbed her head, giving a softer "neigh" and trotting back over to the scarves.

The girl raised an eyebrow, looking at Derek in something akin to disgust. "Ginger?"

"My little sister let her watch Black Beauty. All she wants to do now is gallop around and pretend she's Ginger."

"Um, okay. Well, I have to finish this. It was nice seeing you Derek," she said quickly, evidently eager to get away from this whole situation.

"You too!" Derek called as she left. When she was gone, he snickered. "And that's why your Daddy is amazing," he said to Josh, smirking.

In his arms, Josh started to squirm. Well, it was nice while it lasted. He put his son down, praying that he wouldn't start a fit. He had had the foresight to get an extra candy cane, and he quickly handed it to Josh, whose face was in the process of growing somewhat red, a tell-tale sign of an impending tantrum.

So Josh would be sticky and gross when they got home, and Casey would probably murder him. Derek didn't really care at this point. All he really wanted to do was get out of this line.

Finally, after what Derek swore was a million years, they reached the front of the line. Derek sighed; they really had taken this politically correct thing too far, he thought as he watched a young (because it was just creepy for an older man to have kids on his lap), thin (because a fat man gave the wrong message to kids) Santa call out, "Ha-Ha-Ha" to a child (because 'Ho-Ho-Ho' was just plain wrong, and 'Lady of The Night, Lady of the Night' really didn't have the same ring to it.)

Oh well; Haley and Josh didn't know any better, as the change had taken place before they were born. They certainly seemed okay with it as they eagerly approached the man. Perhaps it was more accurate to say that Haley was okay with it; Josh was trailing behind, and look of apprehension upon his face.

"So, young lady, what would you like for Christmas?" the man asked as she settled herself on his lap, smiling widely.

"I want a pony, just like Aunt Marti."

Derek groaned; there she was with that damned pony thing again. He really was going to kill Marti. Marti, now seventeen, had taken up horseback riding when she was eight or nine. Sadly, it turned out that for her, riding was the equivalent of Derek's hockey, and she approached it with the same determination and love that her brother did his sport. Unfortunately, riding cost a lot more than hockey, something that George evidently did not think of when he signed Marti up for lessons. Now, nine years later, Marti was still riding, and Derek, being the fool he was, had made the mistake of allowing Marti to take Haley out to the barn to see her horse, Fabio. Marti had also allowed her niece to watch Black Beauty; Haley had been galloping around, alternating between being a horse and rider ever since.

Santa laughed at this, and pasted a big smile on his face as the camera flashed.

"Hey, sir, I need your twenty dollars," and elf said.

"Twenty dollars! Isn't this supposed to be free?" Derek exclaimed.

"Yeah, well, Santa's agreed to stay extra, and we have to pay for that. So, ten bucks per kid. Cough it up."

Well, these sure as hell weren't the jolly elves from Santa's workshop that he'd always heard about. But, nevertheless, he fished out his wallet, slapping twenty dollars in the mans hand. The elf, however, didn't move.

"What do you want now?" Derek asked, rather rudely. The elf raised his eyebrows, and Derek understood. He pulled out a quarter as a tip for the elf. The elf looked offended, but really, with the way he'd been so rude, he was lucky to be getting that much.

Haley had finally relinquished her spot on Santa's lap, and Derek picked up Josh, and placed him in the same place. Josh, however, was not so open to the idea of sitting on the lap of a stranger. He was silent, looking tearfully at his father.

"Come on, young man, don't you want something from Santa?"

The boy didn't budge. Santa shrugged. "All right, then. Say cheese!"

After Santa, Derek had to wait in line for fifteen minutes so that he could pay for the lime green scarf that Haley refused to take off. Finally, the kids were buckled in, and they were on their way home. Derek looked at the dashboard clock; he was nearly two hours later than he'd said. Casey was going to murder him.

"Where the hell have you been?" Casey demanded, her arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently on the carpeted floor. She must have been cooking, Derek thought, noticing the knife that she still held.

"Getting the kids' picture with Santa. You wouldn't believe the lines. Who knew there were that many kids who still believed? Really, you'd think most of them would've stopped by now." Casey's Look of Anger did not falter. Meekly, Derek produced a pair of photographs. "I've got the picture," he offered.

"Derek, I told you to be home an hour and a half ago, at the very latest. You still haven't gotten the village up, or gotten any of the lights out of the attic yet. Oh, don't even think about arguing about the lights; we are not paying someone to do it. It's a Christmas tradition to do it yourself."

Derek wisely chose to stay quiet and nod. The anger on Casey's face faded a bit, turning now to worry.

"I'm sorry to be a nag," she said, although both knew this wasn't true, "but I just want things to be perfect this Christmas. I mean, our family is going to be here, and I still have so much shopping to do, and cleaning and cooking…" she trailed off, sniffing a bit as she did so. Derek took this as his cue to go over and give her a comforting hug.

As he held her, his hand gradually inched towards the large knife that she was clutching. However, she kept it well out of his reach, although with Casey, one never could tell if it was on purpose or accidental.

Casey was not normally a violent person. Neurotic, sometimes irrational, and prone to blowing things out of proportion, yes. Even now, at twenty-six, Casey had retained some of her youthful aspects, and while Derek found some of these to be amusing, and even charming in an 'I've loved you long enough to actually kind of understand you' way, there were still those little quirks that scared him a bit.

The Massacre of 2012 came unwittingly to mind, and Derek felt the familiar rise of terror in his breast.

Yeah, definitely one of those things Casey did that he wasn't fond of.

Granted, 345 days of the year, he loved and adored his wife. With the exception of the occasional fight, which really, considering their past, couldn't be helped, life got on pretty well. Too well, really, for it to last all year round. Derek figured this was why for twenty days of the year, seven of those falling around Thanksgiving, and the rest around Christmas, life with Casey became unbearable.

"Derek, where are the kids?" she asked after a minute, lifting her face from his shirt.

Oh, shit.

"They're…"

"DADDY!" wailed a voice from the garage. This was immediately followed by a wail from another child. Casey backed away, looking at Derek with something akin to horror.

"You left them in the garage?" she exclaimed, hurrying towards the door that led out into their large garage.

"I didn't leave them," he protested as she opened the door, revealing a very indignant Haley and a sobbing Josh. Haley stomped in, neighing angrily at her father, the neon scarf still secured around her stomach. Casey was now holding a inconsolable Josh. Derek had the good sense to look ashamed. However, spending the afternoon in a crowded store waiting to see Santa had obviously impaired his judgment, for, instead of apologizing, or better yet, staying quiet, Derek said, "you practically ambushed me! I didn't have a chance to bring them in."

Now, at any other time of the year, Casey might have rolled her eyes, or maybe called him and idiot. However, as it was mere days before Christmas, she wasn't quite so forgiving.

"What did you say?" she asked slowly.

It was then that Derek realized that that had been a very, very stupid thing to say. Oh, why had he said that? Why hadn't he remembered rule number one of having a wife: when she's in a bad mood, never say anything that so much as hints that she might be the reason for something bad.

She glared at him, silently walking away, presumably to put Josh down somewhere so that she could kill Derek. She came back a few moments later, still holding the knife in her hand.

"Now what were you saying about this being my fault?"

"I didn't actually say that. I said…"

"I know damn well what you said. You implied that I was the reason you left our children in the garage."

Normally, Derek got pleasant chills when he heard her refer to 'our children.' Now, when it was said in Super Scary I'm Holding a Killer Knife voice, he found that the chills he got weren't so pleasant.

"Case, calm down, You're stressed out right now, and probably tired, as you haven's slept in like, a week. Just, calm down, and put down the knife."

"Derek, I have been working my ass off none stop this week, trying to get everything ready for when our family arrives in two days. Two days! Forty-eight hours! Do you know how much I have to get done in that short amount of time?"

"Casey," he said, choosing his words carefully, "don't you think what you've done is enough? It doesn't have to be perfect. They know us both too well too actually think that any Venturi Christmas can be perfect."

"Great, now you're doubting my abilities to make my home a happy place to be for the holidays."

"I wasn't…"

"Just go away, Derek. I can't handle this right now."

He nodded; this was the typical Christmas mood in their house. Usually, she'd forgive him in a few hours, although he had the feeling that this was going to be an all-nighter.

Damn. And he'd been so looking forward to finding some way to make them both relax that night. He thought about saying as much, but, as he was currently 0 for 0, he decided to just stay quiet, for lest she get madder and remember the knife that she was still holding.

It turned out that Derek was correct in his prediction: the next morning, Casey normal again, or at least as normal as she could be (Derek loved the woman, but she was far from normal at any given time of the year). She smiled at him that morning as he stumbled into the kitchen. Judging it to be safe once more, he stole her coffee mug, taking a sip.

"Der-ek!" she squealed in a voice reminiscent of their teenage years. He handed it back to her, kissing her on the cheek as he did so. They sat in companionable silence for a moment, each savoring the normalcy of the situation, for both knew that it wouldn't last past ten o'clock that morning.

"So," said Casey after a few minutes, "what did Haley and Josh ask for?"

"I thought we already got most of their gifts."

"We did. I'm just curious. They are my children too, you know."

He laughed; "yes, I think that was very clear yesterday when Haley kept giving me your exasperated look." He crossed his arms and stuck his lip out in an exaggerated pout. Casey smacked him lightly on the arm.

"I do not do that!"

"Yeah, you do. But I love you anyways."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, you better. Now, tell me what my children asked for."

"Well, Josh didn't ask for anything; he kind of just sat there. Think there's something wrong with him? He doesn't talk very much."

Casey rolled her eyes. "He's two, Derek."

"So? We're his parents."

She nodded at this, but then urged him to continue.

"So, Josh didn't really ask for anything, although he was awfully interested in Santa's outfit. Haley, however, asked for a pony, just like Aunt Marti's, except smaller."

"Not that again! Derek, she's been obsessed with horses for what, six months now. I thought she'd grow out of this phase by now." Casey shook her head in exasperation.

"I've already made myself a note to kill Marti for ever allowing our very impressionable young daughter to take a ride on that horse of hers."

"Maybe we should let her take lessons for a bit. Surely that would get it out of her system…"

"Casey, that's exactly how it started with Marti. Dad and Nora thought it would shut her up, and we all know how well that worked out. Did I tell you that Dad called me the other day, telling me that they were going to Florida for five or six weeks in February and March?"

Casey looked surprised. "Florida?"

"Big horse shows down in Florida, I guess. Point is, we do not want this happening with our daughter. I am perfectly happy with her just pretending to ride a horse. Or be a horse."

"I just wish she'd stop it. The other day, it was parents' day at her Tumble Gym class. Derek, she jumped around the whole time neighing. It was mortifying; all the other kids were doing what they were supposed to be doing, and then there was my daughter, galloping around."

Derek laughed, and Casey smacked him on the arm again, harder this time. "Der-ek! This isn't funny! I'm scared that there's something wrong. Maybe…"

"Casey, she is a four-year-old girl. Just because all the robots you hang out with have perfectly robotic children, we have a very expressive, very lively little girl. Be proud of it. Besides," he added, "you're her mother. She's bound to be quite adept at making a fool of herself."

Casey let out a noise of protest at this, and Derek snickered.

"Seriously, though, just relax, Case."

There was once again silence. As they sat there, Derek couldn't help but think that things were pretty damn good. Life was quiet, good, normal…"

"Oh, my gosh! Look at the time! Derek, according to my schedule we needed to start working ten minutes ago, and that was based off the assumption that you'd have the lights down by now! Get up! You have to get all the lights up. Oh, why wasn't I paying more attention…" she continued muttering to herself. From the living room, there was a crash. A minute later, a very sheepish looking Haley came into the kitchen. Derek and Casey looked at each other, Casey in dismay, Derek in amusement.

"Ginger had an accident," Haley said.

"Derek…"

"I'm going, I'm going."

All right, so not normal. But then again, when had they ever been normal?

"Derek!"

He hurried towards the broken vase; he had to be fast, for lest there be a repeat of the Massacre of 2012.

As he scooped up the pieces, Haley jumped up on his back.

"Daddy, I'm a rider!" she yelled, kicking his sides with her stubby legs. Well, he figured, a little lap around couldn't hurt. However, as he started to 'trot,' he happened to look up only to see his wife standing there, the porcelain figurines from her village in hand.

She looked positively murderous.

Derek put down Haley, who had enough knowledge of "Mommy's scary moods" to run away, and he gave her what he hoped was an innocent grin.

She glared.

He gulped.

"I was just, uh, going to go up to the attic and grab the lights," he said. She nodded, but didn't move; he took it as a sign to go towards said attic. "I love you," he called, in an attempt to make peace. She continued her unnerving glare, which spoke of a promise to slaughter him if he didn't move his ass quickly. And she meant it, too.

Well, 345 days of peace (or, rather, non-violent semi-peace, as it was) out of the year wasn't so bad.

Provided he survived the other twenty days.

A/N: First of all, first person to say that Fabio is a stupid name for a horse dies; Fabio is the name of my horse. I swore that I wouldn't revert back to writing about my own horsy life, but obviously, I failed miserable here. Oh well. Second, I don't know how small children talk. The only kid I've known recently who is under six, well, suffice to say she doesn't really give kids a good name. So, I tried desperately to write Haley like a regular four-year-old. I don't know how well I did; feel free to correct me on the character. Same goes for Josh.

Now, for the fun part (or, for all who are currently wincing in agony over the story, 'oh shit, there's more of this crap?) Yes…possibly another chapter, in which The Massacre of 2012 is explained out. But only if I get some requests, in reviews.

So, review!

Emily