Note: None of these characters are mine. The cinnamon rolls, however, are completely mine.

Makeshift Elves

"It's three o'clock on Christmas Eve, Cos. I should be with my kid tonight, not chasing down another false lead halfway across the continent. This is our third dead end this month. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"Sorry, man. I know this blows. I really thought we had her this time. Can you catch a flight tonight? Make it home before the munchkin's bedtime?"

Sarah sighed and plopped onto the floor of the airport. "Two feet of snow here in the last 24 hours. No one is getting out of here anytime soon."

"That sucks, dude. That sucks. The kid is with your bro?"

"Yeah, Fee's got her. This would have been our first Christmas together in three years."

"Damn, girl. No one told you about the small print when you sign up for Clone Club, huh? Me neither, me neither."

Sarah dragged the door of the loft open at 4am on Christmas morning, head hung, dusted in snow, and bone-achingly exhausted.

"Oy, Sarah. Shut the door. There's a draft."

At her brother's words, she looked up. Confused, her eyes skittered around the apartment. Tucked in the corner was a small (slightly bedraggled) Christmas tree. Fee, with strands of yellow lights coiled around his torso and the tree, raised an eyebrow and winked. Sprawled on the floor was Cosima, happily wrapping packages amidst an explosion of wrapping paper, tape, and ribbon. She grinned up at Sarah. Delphine sat nearby sorting the wrapped bundles into piles ("The blue ones are from Santa, and the green ones are from us," she explained). Paul stood on a overturned milk crate hanging paper chains from the rafters. When Sarah caught his eye, he winked and began humming Jingle Bells.

"What…" Sarah stammered, lost for coherent words.

"Can't have my favorite niece missing out on Christmas," Fee said, by way of explanation.

"When you called, we were just sitting in the lab debating the scientific backing behind theistic religions and the merits of faith-based vs. secular holidays. This sounded like more fun, so we hopped a flight. It's a muddy Christmas in Minnesota this year anyway," Cosima rambled. "So, yeah, Christmas with the Clone Club instead."

Stepping off the crate, Paul shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood."

"Felix," a clipped call rang out from the other side of the loft. "Felix? Does this oven tend to run hot? These have been rising for hours- I'd rather not ruin them now."

Sarah whipped around to see Allison emerge from the small kitchen, a tray of cinnamon rolls in her oven-mitted hand. Sarah's jaw dropped and Allison cleared her throat, uncomfortably tugging on the neck of her sweater.

"I know our relationship hasn't been the same since, well, you know. But there was no way I was letting these four feed my niece cold cereal for Christmas breakfast." After an awkward moment of silence, Allison spun on her heel and headed back into the kitchen, muttering, "350 degrees should do it."

By 5:30, the tree was finished, stockings had been hung (Felix's woolen knee-highs to be exact), and the presents were stacked under the tree. The makeshift Christmas elves finally rested. Allison poured sugar glaze over the cinnamon rolls and Fee doled out coffee. Before sitting, Sarah dug a small wrapped package out of her purse and tucked it under the tree.

At six o'clock on the dot, the blankets on Fee's bed rustled. Kira sat up in bed, rubbing her face. Without hesitation, her eyes immediately landed on Sarah.

"Mummy!" She scrambled out of bed and down the steps, flinging herself into Sarah's arms.

"Good morning, Monkey. Merry Christmas," Sarah whispered into the little girl's hair.

"Merry Christmas, Mummy!"

Kira suddenly gasped and struggled out of Sarah's arms. She streaked around the room, with shouts of "Uncle Fee! Auntie Cos! Auntie Allison! Delphine!", tossing her arms around every warm body. She stopped just short of Paul and gave a timid wave. He offered her a cinnamon roll, which was gladly accepted and earned him a handshake.

As Kira and Fee began handing out presents (both of them with sticky fingers), Sarah sat down on the couch next to Cosima. She kissed her sister's forehead and then rested her head on Cos's shoulder. Catching Allison's eye from across the room, she mouthed a "Thank you."

They were still in danger. They were still divided. But for the first time, they were truly family, together on Christmas.

The end. Happy Holidays!