Author's Note: I don't own Discworld as you all know. Also I know that it's past Christmas but I really wanted to write this. It's not so far past Christmas that this is out of season is it? There's still some Christmas lights up around my neighborhood. Oh and don't take this fic seriously. For real, don't. It's just a funny little idea I had.

Sam trailed behind his granny and sisters. He sucked his thumb quietly while his sisters chattered excitedly. He wrapped his threadbare scarf tighter around his neck and ears. It wasn't that cold but the sound of all his sisters talking at once created a very painful frequency. It was worse when they talked about boys. They reached the toy shop where his mam was working as a real helper elf. His sisters disappeared into the crowd as they entered the store. He didn't quite understand it but for some reason his sisters were embarrassed about his mam's job. Didn't they see that they had connections now? It was great. He might actually get that fort this year. He and his granny got into the queue just behind a group of rich kids.

Lord Ramkin adjusted his grip on the shopping bags. So that was most of the presents for the family, Forsythe was doing the grocery shopping for the feast, all that was left was to buy Sybil's presents. Oh and finish decorating the house, and send the last minute Hogswatch cards from the people that weren't on his Hogswatch list but still sent a card and probably a dozen other things that he could remember just now. Bloody bloody lots. He had to draw the short straw to take the children to see the Hogfather, didn't he? He looked over his charges. That little Vetinari boy had his hands clasped behind his back with an eerily calm expression on his face. Lord Ramkin had learned what that meant. "Downey! (1) Give Havelock back his book!" Downey rolled his eyes but handed Vetinari back his book. He heard his daughter say, "Quit it!" Lord Ramkin groaned. He didn't even have to look. "Ronnie, stop pulling Sybil's hair! Good grief, lad. You're eleven, you're too old to be pulling girls' hair!" Ronnie let go of the handful of Sybil's ringlets and saluted.

"Sir, yes, sir." Lord Ramkin rolled his eyes. "All right you lot, I still have some gifts to buy. Can I trust…" He stopped. Of course he couldn't trust them to behave themselves. Well, he could trust Sybil to behave because she really really really wanted a swamp dragon and she figured only the Hogfather would bring it for her since her father had already said she was too young to have a pet. And he was pretty sure he could trust Vetinari to behave. He was always just sitting or standing quietly either watching everything that was going on around him or reading but Lord Ramkin sometimes wondered if the kid wasn't one of those mad sort that went insane and kicked and bit if the bullies bothered him. "You lot better behave yourselves. Havelock, you're in charge until I get back."

This didn't sit well with Downey or Ronnie. "What?" They both asked. "Why?" Lord Ramkin covered his eyes. Bloody kids, I should have stopped at one, he thought. Oh wait, I did. That was worse really. If Ronnie or Downey were his sons they each would have had a clout alongside the ear already. While Lord Ramkin was trying to fight off the incoming headache, Ronnie and Downey were already bickering about which one of them should really be in charge. "I should, I'm older!" Ronnie insisted. Downey snorted. "You still wet the bed!" Ronnie puffed up his chest. "I do nothing of the kind! Where did you hear such slander?" Downey laughed. "Charlie Selachii said you wet the bed at military school and you cried for your mummy the whole first day." Lord Ramkin sighed. He looked helplessly at Vetinari.

Vetinari looked calmly and almost sympathetically back at him. He gave him a little nod. Lord Ramkin left without the other boys noticing. They continued bickering as the little group moved forward in the queue. Sybil held her dragon doll (2) tightly. "What are you going to ask the Hogfather for, Havelock?" He shrugged. "Perhaps a notebook. I seem to go through them very quickly." Sybil nodded. Then she had a thought. "You know what, you should ask for some puppets. You always like playing with the ones at my house." Vetinari considered this for a moment. "Dog-botherer plays with dollies! Nyah nyah!" Sybil stuck her tongue out at Downey. "You don't really believe in the Hogfather, do you Vetinari?" Ronnie asked with amusement. "I thought you were so bloody clever."

Vetinari smiled very slightly and very briefly. "I don't believe in him. I just know he exists." Ronnie stared at him but he still hadn't honed that ability to only see and hear what he wanted that would in adulthood serve him so well. "Isn't that the same thing?" Vetinari shook his head. "Of course not. I know you exist and I know Downey exists but I don't believe in either of you." Sybil giggled. Ronnie rolled his eyes. "He's not real. He's just something grown ups made up to make kids behave. Like the Scissors Man." Vetinari stared at Ronnie for a long time then said, "What's your point?" Ronnie groaned. There was no talking with Vetinari. He turned his attention to an easier target. Sybil was always good for a laugh.

"What about you Sybil? You don't really think he's real?" Sybil squeezed her dragon. "Uh huh." Ronnie patted her shoulder. "You are so naïve. How could a jolly old fat man can climb down all the chimneys in the whole world and bring everyone presents in one night?" Sybil thought about this. "Magic?" Ronnie and Downey laughed. Sybil pouted at them. She was trying for a glare but it doesn't really work on a five year old girl's face. "I'll just ask him when it's my turn then. I mean he's right there." She pointed to the grotto. There were only about half a dozen children ahead of them now. "That's not the real Hogfather." Ronnie scoffed. "I'll prove it."

Technically, only Downey, Sybil and Vetinari had been in the queue. Ronnie considered himself too old to on the Hogfather's lap and tell him what he wanted. He tried to squeeze into the line and then Vetinari Looked at him. "No cuts, Ronnie." He didn't even sound threatening. It had just been a quiet reminder. Ronnie was about to push into the queue anyway but behind Vetinari there was a long queue of children and they were already glaring at Ronnie. Especially one skinny little boy standing just behind Vetinari. It was damn ridiculous. That kid was much smaller than him. He was short and skinny and his clothes were old and ratty. He was sucking his thumb without an ounce of shame but that didn't take away from his glare.

It was a warning, Ronnie could tell deep in his bones. It said there are Rules and if you break the Rules, you'll be screaming for your mum by the time I'm done with you. He was probably one those crazy little sods that would bite and scratch. Ronnie shrugged. There were Rules. No tattling, no take backs, no cuts in the queue. He walked over to Downey making it a point not to look at the little urchin behind Vetinari. "Hey Downey, I dare you to pull the Hogfather's beard off." Without a thought, Downey said, "No." Ronnie's jaw dropped. "Why not?" He whined. Downey looked at Ronnie. "I'm not going to yank his beard off for nothing. What've you got?" Ronnie sighed. He rummaged through his pockets. "Three pence and some toffees." Downey considered the service and payment. "Ok, hand them over." Ronnie reluctantly did so. He walked back next to Vetinari. He gave him a smug smile.

(1) Lord Ramkin didn't know the boy's first name. No one did except presumably, his parents and himself. It was probably something dreadful like Gaylord or Dwayne.

(2) Named Fritzwilliam III, Viscount of Pseudopolis

The grotto was closed for ten minutes while the Hogfather and his helper elf were on break. Sergeant Dickins tried to adjust his cushion. It had been starting to slide out and he didn't dare fix it with the kiddies watching. He scratched his chin carefully so as not to disturb the false beard. Mrs. Vimes tugged at her bright green tights, they itched like mad. She hated them. "You look like a bloody fool, Sergeant Dickins. Who ever heard of a Hogfather with a white beard and a black mustache? You should have shaved it or at least let me bleach it for you." Sergeant Dickins' mustache bristled. "You watch your language, missus. And I won't hear you speaking ill of my mustache again either." Mrs. Vimes crossed her arms and let out a loud and frustrated sigh giving up for now. "I thought they didn't celebrate Hogswatch in your religion, sergeant."

"Dai, please." He said with a nervous smile. Sergeant Dickins was rather impressed. The woman had a blank look that could rival any sergeants'. "Well, it's a solar festival, ain't it? But it ain't like this back home. And I ain't exactly celebrating Hogswatch, am I? This here is a part time job I'm doing while on leave." Mrs. Vimes tapped her foot, the little bell at the end of her shoe jingled. She gave him a look that said that she damned well knew that he was getting into the Hogswatch spirit. Dickins gave her a look that said nothing. Mrs. Vimes turned away from him and reloaded her apron pockets with candy canes. Sergeant Dickins rocked back and forth on his heels. "How are your little ones taking your husband's—" Mrs. Vimes turned back to Sergeant Dickins and gave him a fierce glare. "Passing?" He said quietly.

Mrs. Vimes relaxed and took a little bottle of peppermint schnapps out of another apron pocket. She took a little gulp then said, "I think the girls don't wanna believe it. They don't think this sort of thing should happen around Hogswatch." Dickins nodded. "And how about your boy? Must be hard for a little lad to lose his dad all of the sudden." Mrs. Vimes sighed and took another sip of schnapps. "He keeps asking me and his gran a bunch of questions. I wish he would just leave it alone." She put the bottle back in her apron and laughed mirthlessly. "You know the other day he asked me, 'when's dad's funeral then?' What kind of kid asks something like that?" A kid that's going to grow up to be a copper or a political prisoner, Dickins thought. "What did you tell him?" Mrs. Vimes sighed. "Nothing. I was getting ready for work at the time."

Dickins nodded. "That was lucky." Mrs. Vimes snorted. "Hardly. I'm only ever home so I can change out of one stupid uniform into another." She took a deep breath. Her usual scowl melted away and then she smiled with all the cheer and warmth that her occupation demanded. When she turned to him he knew he had finally gotten the rosy cheeks right. Mrs. Vimes was not a beautiful woman. Most women don't stay beautiful after having several children and always working at least two jobs in any case. She was striking, possibly handsome in the right light. But she had a glow or spark or something flammable about her anyway. As far as Dai Dickins was concerned, Thomas Vimes must have died because he couldn't think of any other reason a man would leave a woman like her. "Ready to face the hellions, I mean, children, Hogfather?"

Dickins blinked. "Wha? Oh! Oh yes." He offered Mrs. Vimes his arm. She sighed and took it anyway. They walked back out to the grotto. Dickins sat down and Mrs. Vimes aka Snowflake the elf, stood next to him. Sybil was at the head of the line. She walked slowly up to the Hogfather and the elf picked her up and set her on his lap. "Hello, Hogfather. How are you this evening?" She asked politely. Dickins laughed the jolly ho ho ho, he'd learned on his first day working as the Hogfather. "Oh I'm doing just fine, little girl. And you?" Sybil smiled brightly. "I'm fine, Hogfather. But I wanted to ask you a question." Oh dear, Dickins and Mrs. Vimes thought. Actually, only Dickins thought 'oh dear'. Mrs. Vimes actually thought, 'oh sh-sugar'. Dickins ho ho ho'd again. "What's that, dear?"

"How do you have time to visit all the houses in the whole world in one night?" Snowflake the elf reached into one of her apron pockets for that bottle of schnapps but stopped herself. Dickins tried to think. "Well, there are a number of factors involved. The whole world isn't actually part of my jurisdiction. There are some countries like in Klatch and such that I don't actually visit and of course a child doesn't live in every single house and there's also time differences to consider. Do you understand?" Sybil nodded. "I thought it was something like that." The Hogfather and Snowflake the elf both let out a relieved breath. "Now what did you want for Hogswatch, dear?" Sybil sat up straighter. "I want a swamp dragon, Hogfather." Dickins nodded. "Oh I see. And have you been a good girl all year?" Sybil nodded emphatically. "Yes, Hogfather."

Dickins ho ho ho'd agin. "Well, I see what I can do." Sybil hopped off the Hogfather's lap and ran back to the queue. She stood next to Ronnie. "Well?" Ronnie asked. "He doesn't actually go to all the houses in the whole world, 'cause there aren't kids in all of them and there's some countries he doesn't actually visit. And there like… time differences." She answered with definite satisfaction. Vetinari nodded. "I thought it was something like that." He said mostly to himself. He stepped up to the Hogfather and was put on his lap. Vetinari watched the Hogfather for a long time and then said, "It is not my intention to be rude, Hogfather. But may I suggest, if you're going to dye your mustache, you really ought to do the beard too."

Snowflake the elf snickered until the Hogfather glared at her. Then she looked straight ahead with a wooden expression. "I'll have to remember that, lad. Now… how you been a good boy all year?" He asked suspiciously. Dickins thought this one looked a bit of a troublemaker. Maybe he didn't throw tantrums but he definitely looked the type to convince his younger siblings that the whole world only existed in their heads and everyone disappeared when they left the room. "It really depends on your definition of 'good', Hogfather." Ah ha, Dickins had thought so. "If you define 'good' as a child who is respectful of his elders, keeps his room tidy, eats everything on his plate, including the vegetables, is quiet in class, completes all school assignments on time and doesn't throw temper tantrums when he doesn't get exactly what he asks, then yes. I have been a good boy all year."

Dickins gave Vetinari a scrutinizing look. He tried to think if he'd missed anything. Well he was being a bit on the cheeky side. "Very well. Now young man, what did you want for Hogswatch?" Probably an ant farm or something flammable, if Dickins had to guess. This one was probably going to grow up to be a wizard. Vetinari took a moment to think. "Books are always welcome, Hogfather." Dickins nodded. "Or maybe some string puppets." Vetinari said with a little smile. "I like playing with puppets." I bet you do, Dickins thought. "I'll see what I can do. And you keep being good." Vetinari nodded slightly. "Yes, Hogfather." He hopped off his lap. "And don't be so darned cheeky, neither." Dickins said firmly. "Of course not, Hogfather."

He walked over to Sybil and Ronnie. Now it was Downey's turn. He walked up to the Hogfather and climbed onto his lap. "And what do you want for Hogswatch, little boy?" Downey glanced at Ronnie and the other children. Then he said, "Oh nothing. I can just buy what I want." Then he yanked the beard off Dickins' face. At this point, several things happened. Snowflake the elf pulled Downey off Dickins' lap. Several other children in the queue gasped. Some of them started crying. Downey tossed Ronnie the Hogfather's beard as he was dragged away. Ronnie hooked the beard on and grinned at Vetinari and Sybil. "How do I look?" Vetinari shook his head but didn't say anything.

Sybil was still staring at the de-bearded Hogfather, her mouth hanging open. Ronnie poked her in the shoulder. "Told you he wasn't real." Sybil turned to Ronnie. Her bottom lip was sticking out and quivering. She sniffled and then turned away from him. Ronnie shrugged. What was she so upset about anyway? Dickins stomped over to Ronnie. "All right you, give me back my beard." Ronnie rolled his eyes at Dickins and turned quickly. He started running. Dickins tried to follow but children were swarming around him. Sam got out of the queue and chased after the larger boy. It didn't occur to him just yet that Ronnie was taller and older and could probably beat him silly. The big jerk had taken the beard and run away. Sam would catch him.

Mrs. Vimes was pulling Downey along by the ear. Downey almost had to run to keep his ear from being pulled off completely. "Let go! I'll tell my father about this and you'll lose your job, you horrible old witch!" Mrs. Vimes was fuming. At the moment, she didn't even care if she lost this crummy job. It was only for two weeks in any case and there were plenty of other crummy jobs out there. "Good, don't forget to tell him about the bit where you yanked the Hogfather's beard off and caused a bloody great riot in the grotto!" Vetinari and Sybil were trailing slowly after them. Eventually they found Lord Ramkin. He took one look at Downey, Mrs. Vimes' face, her ridiculous costume and Sybil's look of despair then he glared at Downey. "What did you do?"

"The little sod tore the Hogfather's beard off in front of all the other kids!" She pointed at the chaos that used to be the queue to see the Hogfather. "Now I got a bloody great riot to deal with and several parents are going to have a lot of explaining to do!" Lord Ramkin stared in disbelief as this woman told him off. She put him in mind of a pixie. Short, brightly colored and belligerent. "Do you really think it was all right to leave these kids unsupervised? It ain't my job to watch people's kids you know!" Downey interrupted at this point. "Do you even know who you're talking to, woman? This is Lord Ramkin you're yelling at!" Mrs. Vimes looked worried for a second then she looked down at Downey. "Do I look like I care? He could be the bloody Queen of Hersheba, he still has to watch his kids like everyone else and don't you take that tone with another adult ever again!"

Downey shrunk back. He got behind Lord Ramkin and tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Lord Ramkin gave Mrs. Vimes an embarrassed smile. "I'm terrible sorry. But if it's any help, this one isn't actually mine…" Mrs. Vimes snorted. "They always say that when they gotta take responsibility." Then she turned around and strode away. Her dramatic exit was rendered somewhat less dramatic since several little bells tinkled with every movement she made. Lord Ramkin finally breathed. What an angry woman, he thought. He looked down at Downey. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" Downey was definitely more relaxed now that Mrs. Vimes was out of sight. He grinned mischievously. "I think I should have gotten some biscuits for this one too."

Lord Ramkin groaned. "Let's just go…" He looked over at Vetinari and Sybil then said, "Where's Ronnie?" On cue, Ronnie, still wearing the Hogfather's beard, came running towards them with Sam right behind him. Ronnie ran between Vetinari and Sybil, knocking Sybil down in his wake. Sam sped up and jumped onto Ronnie's back. Ronnie stumbled and knelt down. "Get off me!" He reached up to pull Sam down and sure enough, Sam bit his hand. Both boys started flaying, each one struggling to get an advantage. Vetinari looked up at Lord Ramkin. "Aren't you going to do something, sir?" Lord Ramkin gave Vetinari a little grin. "In a minute." He said dismissively. Sam managed to get the beard off of Ronnie and was proceeding to smack him. "You don't push girls!" He shouted and emphasized every syllable with a kick or a punch.

"Excuse me, but I can speak for myself." Sybil said haughtily. Sam paused and stared at Sybil. "Oh… er… sorry." He took a step back as Sybil moved forward. Then she kicked Ronnie in the shin. "Carry on." She said and gave him a little wink. Sam coughed and went back to hitting Ronnie. "Samuel!" The sound of Mrs. Vimes' voice made everyone freeze. Man and boys were gripped with terror. The tinkling of tiny bells preceded her arrival. She grabbed Sam's arm and yanked the beard out of Sam's hand. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?" Sam stared up in bladder emptying fear at his mother. "Er…" He sought refuge in sucking his thumb. "Take your thumb out of your mouth! Where's your grandmother?" The thumb withdrew from his mouth with a pop. "Er…" Mrs. Vimes sighed. Sure he asks all kinds of clever questions but he can turn on the simple when he wants to.

She looked over at Ronnie and then she realized that Lord Ramkin was standing there. She covered her eyes and groaned. "Bloody hell." He smiled sheepishly. "If it makes you feel any better, that one isn't mine either." He pointed at Ronnie. She looked at Ronnie, then the other children. "Are any of them yours?" She smirked at him. Lord Ramkin coughed. "I'm quite confident that the girl is mine." All the children groaned. Here was a grown up trying to be witty. Ick. Mrs. Vimes laughed. It wasn't much of a laugh. It was little more than a smirk with a noise. Sam scowled at Lord Ramkin. He squirmed out of his mother's grip. Mrs. Vimes looked down at Sam and remembered herself.

She turned back to Lord Ramkin and said, "Well… er… I have to get back to work… Sorry about… all this. Sam, say you're sorry to the lad." Sam wondered if his mother was kidding but then gave up. He tried not to look at Ronnie. "S'rry." He said quietly. Lord Ramkin nudged Ronnie a little. "Ronnie, you apologize too." Ronnie snorted. "Why should I? He's the one that bit me!" Lord Ramkin gritted his teeth. "Ronald." Ronnie shrank a little. He made a point to not look at Sam. "S'rry." He mumbled. Mrs. Vimes and Lord Ramkin shrugged. It was probably the best they were going to get. Sam and his mum walked back to the grotto slowly. Lord Ramkin sighed. "I think we've done enough shopping for today."

Ronnie, Downey and Vetinari were all dropped off at their homes and Lord Ramkin and his daughter didn't speak until they got home to Pseudopolis Yard. Vetinari went to bed of his own accord and spent some time considering the chaos the de-bearding of the Hogfather had caused. Downey and his father had spent some time discussing that while it was fine that he should receive payment before de-bearding the Hogfather, it was also important to consider the effects such an act would have on the general populace. Ronnie was sent to bed without his supper for not showing that little urchin that bit him what's what. Lord Ramkin tucked Sybil in shortly after dinner.

"Daddy?" She said quietly. "Yes?" After taking a minute to arrange the words best in her mind, she said. "Havelock said that the Hogfather couldn't make all the public appearances he's supposed to so that's why there are people that dress up like him in the shops but Ronnie said that the Hogfather's just something grown ups made up." Lord Ramkin nodded slightly. "So is he real or isn't he?" She asked. Lord Ramkin sighed. Maybe he should just tell her. It would probably save time in the future, yes? But he saw a hint of a plea in her eyes. Admitting there was no Hogfather would just be the beginning of the end. He just didn't want to have to lie. "Just go to sleep and we'll discuss it in the morning." He kissed Sybil's forehead and left her room.

The next morning, Sybil walked down to the Nauseatingly Green Drawing Room not really expecting anything but… well, it couldn't hurt to check just in case. She opened the door and there was a swamp dragon cobb eating the sparkly garland on the Hogswatch tree. Sybil gasped and ran over to it. She picked him up with some trouble and hugged him tightly. Lord Ramkin walked into the drawing room. Sybil ran over to her father and was beaming with joy. "Daddy! Daddy! He brought me a dragon like I asked for!" Lord Ramkin nodded. "Yes, I can see that. You do know that a pet is a big responsibility. You're going to have to take very good care of him." Sybil nodded. "I will daddy, I promise."

She tottered over to the rest of her presents. One of them was a bag of coal. She tore it open and fed a handful of them to her dragon. "I guess Ronnie was wrong, huh daddy?" Lord Ramkin considered saying 'Of course he was. He's a Rust. Rusts are wrong by nature.' Instead he said, "Well, he's only eleven dear. He doesn't know everything." He sat down in a leather arm chair and watched Sybil play with her dragon a while. "Have you thought of a name for him?" Sybil fed him another lump of coal. The dragon bumped and left a scorch mark on the wall and singed some of Sybil's hair. She didn't seem to mind. "I was thinking Samuel, Duke of Sto Kerrig." Lord Ramkin nodded and wondered where the hell she got it into her head to name her belongings things like that. "Why Samuel?"

Sybil let go of Samuel, Duke of Sto Kerrig. He wandered over to the fireplace and started eating the ash. "That was the name of that boy that bit Ronnie yesterday. He was cute." Lord Ramkin smiled a little and then when she looked back to Samuel, he groaned. He'd sent Forsythe out in the middle of the night to buy a swamp dragon from the Cavern club and apparently they'd given him quite a lot of grief for even thinking of buying a swamp dragon as a Hogswatch gift. They wouldn't even hand the thing over to Forsythe. One of the ladies that worked there came down to the house and talked to Lord Ramkin at length about how to properly care for a swamp dragon and then asked him a number of questions to decide if he qualified as a responsible owner.

Clearly having a small child not only wasn't indicative of dependability but was in fact was counted against him. But eventually the woman begrudgingly handed the little swamp dragon over. After Lord Ramkin swore that he would not put the thing in a sack and toss it into the river when it had an accident on the carpet. All this was done in an effort to preserve Sybil's childhood innocence, to prevent her from growing up too fast. But despite all the resources of both time and money spent, she still noticed a boy. And as luck would have it, he was a totally deranged little terror that didn't say much and bit and kicked when he encountered a bully. What did boys like that grow up to be anyway? Couldn't be just another thug. Maybe he'll be a lunatic that sees himself as a hunter and the whole human race as prey. On the bright side, he wasn't a Rust.