Disclaimer: HM is not mine.

Note: Hello! This is my Secret Santa gift for sugarapplesweet. I hope you like it! I went a bit crazy with the fluff as I do every year, haha... XD

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone! :)

The Secret Santa Conspiracy

It all started at the beginning of December when Lillia received a phone call that made her squeal. Dutiful son Rick, mistaking this for a scream of pain, leapt down the stairs so enthusiastically that he tripped and snapped the bridge of his glasses. Once they had been sellotaped back together, and his wife, Karen, had stopped laughing, it emerged that Lillia had not developed some frightening new symptom. Her squeal was actually one of pre-Christmas joy.

"Popuri and Kai are coming home for Christmas!" she told them.

Karen yelped and hugged her, while Rick – still sheepish – merely smiled a little at the thought of seeing his sister and nephew (he didn't much care for Kai) so soon. Over lemon cake and mugs of cocoa – because there was cake for all occasions at Poultry Farm – the trio sat and discussed the exciting news.

"You'll need to get the biggest tree possible from Gotz, Rick," said Lillia. "That old plastic one won't do for this year."

Rick huffed. "But it'll get needles all over the floor. Not to mention stink the whole house out."

"Oh, where's your inner child?" Karen cut in, flicking a cake crumb at him.

"I don't get to have one," he said, sipping his cocoa. "Yours is unruly enough for the both of us."

"Please you two, be sensible" – even as she said this, Lillia couldn't help smiling – "all I want is for this Christmas to be perfect. Who knows? Perhaps they'll come for Christmas next year too, if we make this one really special." It went unsaid that Lillia counted each new Christmas she reached as a blessing.

After a long moment, Karen said, "So. Any theories as to why they're coming this year?"

"Poppy didn't say. Just a lucky whim, I suppose." Lillia smiled; the reason didn't matter to her.

Rick's theory was more cynical. "They probably won the ferry tickets or something."

Karen laughed. "That's ridiculous. No, I know what it is. She's pregnant again."

"What?" Rick spluttered into his cocoa and choked.

"Call it a hunch!" Karen shrugged. She stared at the delicate ribbons of steam swirling from her mug. "I just have a feeling, that's all."

The sky above Mineral Town had turned a dull, off-white that looked heavy with snow. Ann watched it anxiously from the Inn windows. She was preoccupied with cooking lunch and sweeping the floors and... everything, really, so she rushed upstairs to enlist Gray and Cliff in gritting the pavement outside with salt. What she didn't realise, however, was that they were having a conversation of utmost importance.

Cliff was sat on his bed gawping at the Blue Feather Gray had handed him. "Are you asking?" he chuckled.

Gray snatched it back. "You're hilarious," he deadpanned.

Neither of them noticed that the door was slightly ajar.

"Seriously, though..." Cliff shot a wary glance at the glittering feather, as if it was liable to explode. "Isn't it a bit of risky Christmas present? What if she says no? Then everyone's Christmas is ruined..."

At this point, Cliff faltered because Gray had folded his arms and a stormy look had entered his eyes. "She won't say no," he said, matter-of-factly – bordering on gruff. "Why would she?"

"I – uh - " Where had his voice gone? " – well, she won't – she probably won't. But you – you never know do you?"

Gray sat heavily on his own bed. "No, she'll say yes. The timing's perfect." He sounded utterly depressed about this, however, much to Cliff's confusion. "Or it was. The thing is, I meant to ask Mary to marry me ages ago. You wouldn't believe how long that feather's been waiting in my drawer. I was going to do it on Spring Thanksgiving, but then Ann took over and baked me that great big chocolate cake to give her. So I went along with that. I was a bit nervy about it, anyway, so I thought I'd do it at the Fireworks Festival instead. But then that storm blew in and the display was cancelled half-way through."

"I remember," Cliff murmured.

"So I put it off. I thought I'd do it on the Full Moon Festival and I really got her expectations up, saying it was going to be such a special night. But then what happened?"

"You got the flu!" Cliff said, suddenly remembering.

"Exactly," Gray huffed. "It's been one disaster to the next. And now it's kinda snowballed. I've built it up and then failed so many times that now it's just... too hard. It's got to be something amazing to live up to the expectations. Something so amazing... it's impossible."

And finally Cliff understood. "So you're just going to give her the feather for Christmas?"

"Yeah. It's gonna be a total surprise – no big hints this time. I might even put it in a huge box just to throw her off."

"Clever," Cliff agreed. Even Gray's stormy expression had melted into a small, slightly tentative smile.

"Clever?" somebody laughed. The door fell wide open, a cackling red-head tumbled into the room and Cliff and Gray each jumped a foot into the air.

In a whirl of panic Gray tried to pass the Blue Feather back to Cliff to hide, but Cliff fumbled it in nervous fingers and it slipped to the floor. There was a heavy silence.

"Give it up, boys," Ann said, at last. "I heard it all, anyway." Neither of them said anything to this. Cliff had turned pale and doubly wary. He looked like a startled rabbit ready to bolt. Gray, though, had gone an odd, mottled purple. His blue eyes fixed mutinously on Ann, he refused to take the feather when she bent down and picked it up for him.

Ann turned it over in her hands, abashed. "It's very pretty," she mumbled, in place of 'sorry'. "I've never seen one in real life before."

Gray grunted.

"You really shouldn't leave the door open when you're having important conversations, you know..."

"Ever heard of walking away?" Gray gritted out. He accepted the feather back, however, then sighed. "You're going to tell Mary, aren't you? Great. Great! You know maybe I'll wait 'til Spring Thanksgiving."

"Don't be silly, Gray," Ann said, in unison with Cliff. "I'm the most trustworthy eavesdropper you'll ever meet." She drew her finger across her lips, as though sealing them closed.

Gray simply rolled his eyes and Ann, taking this to mean he had forgiven her, rushed forward and grabbed his arm. She dragged him to his bed and sat him down excitedly, beckoning Cliff over too. "I've got a plan," she announced, her eyes shining in a way that terrified them both.

"No. No way." Gray tried to stand, but Ann's thin fingers tightened around his wrist. She was steely strong for such a small girl.

"It's a wonderful idea!"

"I bet it's awful. Yours always are."

"We'll do a Secret Santa," she explained.

"What? How will that help?" Gray gave up struggling for freedom; he simply stared at her, bemused. Even Cliff, who always always agreed with Ann – if only to stay on her good side – was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"Because I'll rig it, of course."

"I'm still not getting it, Ann."

"You two are useless, honestly!" Ann sighed. "Look. It's simple. We do a town wide Secret Santa, right? We'll do a draw and I'll fix it so you get Mary. I'll get everyone over here on Christmas Day – we can turn it into a bit of party; Rick said Kai and Popuri are coming back this year, so it'll be perfect. Mary won't even know the present's from you until she opens it and gets a Blue Feather – along with a romantic note with your proposal written on it."

Cliff laughed nervously. He'd never heard of a plan in which so many things could go so disastrously wrong. What if the presents got mixed up somehow and somebody else unwrapped Gray's Blue Feather?

But Gray either hadn't thought of this or didn't care because he was looking increasingly impressed. "Yeah... okay. Let's do it."

Ann clapped her hands delightedly. "Fabulous! I'll go and spread the word. You two had better grit the pavement before it starts to snow. Then, you can get started on the decorations."

They agreed to this with only minimal grumbling. In fact, it was only after they'd staggered outside clutching heavy bags of salt that Cliff sighed. "I forget, sometimes, that we're paying guests," he said as the first flecks of snow appeared in the winter air, "and not the hired help."

"Hired help?" Gray snorted. "Slave labour more like."

By the next morning, Mineral Town was buried under its annual thick blanket of snow. Most of the town was packed into the Inn, drawing names from a bucket Ann was carrying around. Gray felt a little on edge. Despite his enthusiasm the day before, he was quickly realising how badly Ann's plan could go wrong.

Ann loomed in front of him suddenly, shaking the bucket under his nose. Gray sent her a questioning look, but knew he couldn't say anything in front of everyone. Ann simply smiled unhelpfully, shook the bucket again and told him to take his turn.

Grimacing, he took a slip of folded paper. "Here you go, Elli," said Ann, moving on to the next person, abandoning him.

What now? How had she rigged it? Across the room, Mary caught his eye and the knots writhing in his stomach dissolved. They soon returned, however, when he unfolded his slip of paper and read the name written on it.

Jeff.

He was going to kill Ann, he decided. He was going to strangle her with those damn Christmas lights she'd insisted he and Cliff risk life and limb to put up outside yesterday during a very real blizzard. Unfestive it may be, but he didn't care.

There were many beautiful aspects of Christmas, Cliff thought.

And surely the most beautiful of all these was mistletoe. Jumping deftly from table to table in the empty Inn, he hung so much on the ceiling that it looked as though a small forest was growing up there. He'd been adding bits here and there over the last few days, until there were few mistletoe-free zones.

Gray called him 'a predator.'

He also pointed out that although an abundance of mistletoe increased his chances of a kiss with Ann, it increased his chances of a kiss with anyone. Perhaps someone he wouldn't want to kiss. Mistletoe was dangerous, Gray said. Imagine being cornered by Manna beneath it? You'd be there forever, while she analysed everything. She'd probably give you mark out of ten afterwards.

That said, Cliff was much more of optimist than Gray would ever be – especially lately. Gray had been a picture of Christmas misery ever since Ann's ill-fated Secret Santa draw. Her explanation was that she had to do the draw legitimately so as not arouse suspicion. Her plan was to find out who had drawn Mary and convince them to swap with Gray. But it was proving impossible; they simply could not work out who'd drawn Mary.

Christmas Day was now just three days away, and with time running out, Gray was facing up to the prospect of buying Jeff a Secret Santa gift.

The door banged open on a blast of Arctic wind and Gray, Ann and her father, Doug, stumbled over the threshold with brown paper shopping bags.

"...too far this year, Ann," Doug was saying. "Do we really need all this?"

"With the whole town coming over on Christmas Day? Yeah, probably, Dad." She dumped her bag on one of the tables, frowning when she noticed a footprint on it. "And where's all this extra mistletoe coming from?"

"It's a mystery, isn't it?" said Gray, smirking at Cliff who shifted awkwardly.

Ann didn't seem to notice. And if she did, she didn't say a word.

"Rick! Rick! The ferry is going to be here in an hour."

"I know, Mom, I know, but – " There was another resounding crash from downstairs, followed by the sound of Karen swearing. If Lillia was not mistaken, the tree had fallen over again. It was late on Christmas Eve and chaos had descended at Poultry Farm. "You carry on with the wrapping; me and Karen will sort this."

The farmhouse was covered in heaps of tinsel, bundles of tangled lights that didn't work and glitter that stuck to every surface. It was as if something very sparkly had exploded all over their living room. In the midst of the madness, stood a dishevelled and exhausted Rick and Karen.

Trouble began when the tree Rick brought home from Gotz was too big to fit through the front door. They cut it down to size in the yard, but that was no mean feat either with the light fading and snow whipping around them. Once they'd trimmed it, the tree fit through the door with perfect ease. However, in the improved lighting indoors it became obvious that they'd been perhaps too brutal in their trimming. The tree was – and there was just no disputing it – hopelessly lopsided. It fell over at fifteen minute intervals, sometimes more often. At least ten baubles had been smashed so far.

"Right," puffed Rick, as they hauled the bedraggled tree upright once again. "We'll have to lean it against something, I suppose..." His cheeks were bright red and his fringe was clinging to his forehead.

"Against the chimney stack? That's pretty big."

"No! Not unless we want to set the house on fire."

In the end, they wedged the tree into a spare corner behind the dining table. They held their breath – it didn't fall. "At last!" Karen laughed and hugged Rick in relief. "Now where's the Christmas cake?"

"Not yet! It still needs to be decorated."

'Decorated' was a loose term for flinging the remaining baubles, tinsel and the few lights that worked over the poor branches. Even then there was wine to be mulled, cookies to be baked and stockings to be hung. Once the oven was merrily blazing, Lillia made cocoa and handed out slices of Christmas cake. It was just like the day, early in December, when they first found out Kai and Popuri were coming home for Christmas. Except any moment now –

"They're here!" Karen shrieked as they heard a tap-tap on the door.

A little boy with candy-pink hair came tearing into the room. "Nana Lilly! Auntie Karen!"

"Mackenzie!"

They'd seen him at the end of summer of course, but there was something special about Christmas. Karen swung him into her arms with difficulty, so tightly bundled in scarves and mittens as he was. "It's snowing, Auntie Karen, Uncle Rick!"

"Is it really?"

"I love the tree," Popuri told her mother, looking at it with a soft nostalgia. Kai nodded; they were both very tanned.

"Oh, don't be silly," Lillia sighed. "It was a bit of a disaster, to be honest."

To her surprise, Kai and Popuri burst into giggles. "Well last year, Mom, we ended up decorating a cactus, didn't we Kai? Anything without spikes is a welcome improvement." She leant forward and hugged her mother. "Merry Christmas."

Christmas Day arrived and the people of Mineral Town once again packed themselves into the Inn. The festivities looked like an old Christmas card – everyone laughing and joking, surrounded by more food than they could possibly consume.

"I knew you'd bought too much, Ann," Doug grumbled.

Gray felt like the only one having a terrible time.

The Secret Santa plan had failed. The Blue Feather had been returned to its miserable home in his drawer. He had decided against Cliff's "hilarious" suggestion of giving it to Jeff instead. The only saving grace, he supposed, was that he was getting to spend Christmas with Mary nonetheless. She was sat beside him, her head on his shoulder and her silky black hair brushing against his bare neck.

"Are you okay, Gray?" she said, lifting a hand to his cheek – which he was certain had burst into flame. "Are you worried your Secret Santa recipient won't like their gift?"

"Nah. I know they'll love it." He had given Jeff a pair of socks. While it wasn't in the spirit of the season to think so, he couldn't care less what Jeff thought of the reindeer patterned monstrosities Ann had knitted for him.

"Aw, lovely." Mary smiled. "I'm not sure what mine'll think."

Ann, who was wearing a Santa hat and a tinsel necklace, started handing out the gifts from the large pile in the middle of the floor. "Enjoy, everyone!"

"Thanks for the socks, Gray!" Jeff called. He sounded genuinely enthusiastic.

"Here's yours, Gray." Ann flung a thin, red parcel at him.

It was with a sad ache in his chest that Gray tore open the wrapping paper. He couldn't believe he'd failed again. What was so difficult, really, about a few little words? In fact, scratch the festival ideas – he was just going to have to do it. No over planning from now on, he was going to be spontaneous. Just as he was thinking this, the parcel split open and a Blue Feather tumbled into his lap.

His fingers turned numb and tingly; he felt almost faint as he turned the feather over in his hands. One by one, the other villagers noticed Gray had unwrapped a Blue Feather and, one by one, they fell silent. There was a note:

Just a little something. I thought it was time to put you out of your misery.

-Mary

Gray stared at the words, until they wriggled about on the page and he could make no more sense of them.

"You always knew?" he croaked at Mary.

Her cheeks had turned slightly pink, but she met his eyes, unembarrassed. "Of course, I did. I thought I was due a turn, to be honest!"

Gray chuckled uneasily. He could feel every single eye in the room watching him. "So?" she said, with that same unshakeable coolness. "What do you think?"

"Y – yes. Yes. Of course." Forgetting the other people in the room, he wrapped his arms around her. There were a few cheers, but above all of them he heard Ann whooping.

"N'aaww!" she grinned, clapping her hands every bit as delightedly as when she had come up with the Secret Santa plan...

"Wait a minute!" Something was slowly dawning on Gray. "Mary, how did you manage to draw my name in the Secret Santa?"

She smiled slyly. "Well, Ann – "

"I knew Ann would have something to do with it." Gray jumped up and turned to a would-be innocent looking Ann. "You did rig the Secret Santa, didn't you?"

"Yes," she admitted, "for Mary. I gave her your name in the draw."

Gray was speechless. Judging by the bewildered look on Cliff's face, he had no idea they'd been double-crossed either. "Who was your Secret Santa then, Mary?" he asked.

"Me!" said Ann gleefully, grinning at him like a Cheshire cat. "I made sure I got her. Do you like the bookmark, Mary?"

"Yes, it's lovely. Thank you, Ann."

As unbelievable as it all was, somehow Gray didn't care how it'd happened. It was Christmas Day – his first Christmas engaged to the woman he loved. At last.

Later that afternoon, once they'd congratulated the happy couple, Rick cornered his sister and asked her a question that had been bothering him since the beginning of December.

"Pregnant?" Popuri eyes went wide with surprise. "Me? Goodness, no! Why did you think that?"

Rick sighed, a little disappointed if he was honest. He'd got used to the idea of another little niece or nephew. "Oh, nothing," he told her, taking a bite of another one of Ann's mince pies. "Karen said she had feeling about it, that's all."

"Strange..." Popuri mumbled. She lowered her voice below the rumble of voices at the Inn. "Maybe I shouldn't say anything, but... I heard Karen being sick this morning. Mom said she's been doing it the last few days actually."

There was a pause as Rick turned this over in his head. It was like a sudden explosion had taken place and his ears were ringing.

"You'd better ask, Karen," Popuri said hurriedly. "I'm probably wrong."

Rick nodded and told himself not to get carried away. But he couldn't help hoping. Perhaps there was something in the fact that Karen had said "now where's the Christmas cake?" not "where's the sherry?" like she would've done last year...

Unfortunately for Cliff, Gray's mistletoe predictions came all too true. By 4pm, he'd kissed Manna twice and was doing everything in his power to avoid a third. He slipped into the back room to escape her advances. Leaning against the dining table, he rubbed his eyes wearily and mentally prepared himself to re-enter the mistletoe wilderness.

Just then the door slammed.

He leapt a mile, but it was only Ann, still wearing her hat and glitzy necklace. "Oh! I'm glad it's you, Ann," he said, weak with relief.

"Nice to know someone's happy to see me," she answered. It was a joke, but she sounded strange – kind of soft and quiet.

"I thought it might be Manna," Cliff explained lamely. Ann was standing very very close all of a sudden. Why was she getting closer? He looked up, but no. He could feel her breath on his lips; the tinsel scratched his chin. "But Ann, this is a mistletoe-free zone."

She laughed breathlessly. "This has nothing to do with mistletoe."

She leaned in.