Disclaimer: They aren't mine, but I love them like they are!
A/N: In the spirit of things, a little Christmas twin cuteness. Fred and George are about six, give or take.
"Fred. Fred. There's somebody downstairs."
"It's probably just Dad; he's supposed to get home late tonight, remember?"
"But Daddy already got home."
Fred rolled over to glare at his brother. "George, what do I have to do to get you to go to sleep? It's," Fred glanced at the nightstand, "almost midnight. We were supposed to be asleep hours ago."
"I know."
"And Santa won't come if we stay up all night."
"I know."
"If you know, why are you still up?"
"Because someone is downstairs!" the younger twin whispered, nervously picking at his blanket. "What if they're…not a good person?"
"A burglar?" supplied Fred. George nodded. Sighing quietly, Fred shifted to one side of his bed. "Come here." George slipped from his own warm nest and crawled in next to his brother. "See? Now you're safe. Nobody's gonna mess with me, so now they won't get you!"
"What about Mum and Dad, and the others?"
"Daddy's big enough to take care of all of us. That's why he's the dad!"
"Really?"
"Hey!" Fred glared at his brother. "Have I ever lied to you?" George shook his head silently. "Well then, there you go."
"Oh." A few moments passed, a comfortable silence encircling the young twins. Shifting slightly, George snuggled into his brother's chest. Fred smiled and hugged his brother gently.
"G'night Fred."
"'Night George."
fin
A/N: There ya go. For those who care, this worked out the way it did because, twins or not, I've always seen Fred as George's 'guardian angel' of sorts, the one who tries to keep the trouble as harmless as possible. Maybe it's because he's oldest by…what, two minutes? And yes, the guy downstairs was Santa. nn