"No way, Maya. No way." Only a few minutes into the description, Phoenix found himself seriously doubting the so-called traditions of the Fey clan once more. He looked over at Pearl, who was carefully avoiding meeting his eyes, and his wariness strengthened.

"Oh, come on, Nick!" Maya protested, pouting as she gazed up at the lawyer. Phoenix ignored her puppy-dog face. "Don't you believe me?"

Phoenix laughed. "Of course I don't, Maya! Or don't you remember my birthday?"

The spirit medium bit her lip guiltily, looking away. "C'mon... it was just a joke. No need to get your panties in a twist..."

Phoenix stared at her in disbelief. "You! I... b-but...!" He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long sigh. "You know what? I'm not even going to argue this." He turned to Pearl. "Pearls, tell me. Is there any Fey Christmas tradition that all men have to go skinny-dipping at midnight?"

The medium-in-training glanced at Maya briefly, looking guilty. "Sorry, Mystic Maya... I can't lie to Mr. Nick!" Sniffling, she turned back to Phoenix. "N-no, Mr. Nick, there isn't." Phoenix grinned triumphantly at Maya and Pearl added, "What is skinny-dipping, anyway?"

The two adults in the room exchanged embarrassed looks before answering in unison, "I'll tell you when you're older."

Christmas eve came upon the trio not long after, and it was that night that Phoenix found himself, for once, truly appreciative of the chaos around him. Between Pearl unsubtly hanging mistletoe in doorways and trying to coerce he and Maya to walk through together, and Maya's disturbing homespun lyrics to classic Christmas songs, the defense attorney found that for all the riches in the world, he wouldn't trade his friendship with the Feys. Though things had quieted down now that the day was winding to a close, Phoenix still felt giddy and wound up – most likely, he supposed, due to the fact that it wasn't long before Christmas. He was very much looking forward to seeing Maya and Pearl unwrap their gifts. He turned in his bed, willing himself to become more tired. It didn't work.

A soft knock at his door caught his attention, and Phoenix rolled out of bed to see who it was. Swinging open the door, he found himself looking down at Pearl, clad in a pink nightgown, looking rather distressed.

"Pearls? What is it?"

"I can't sleep," the girl confessed. "I'm too excited. But if I don't, Santa won't come! What should I do?"

Phoenix scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward. Much as he cared for the child, he had zero experience with children, and he wasn't sure at all that he'd know how to help. "Er... maybe Maya can help you?"

She bit her lip. "Mystic Maya's already sleep, though."

Phoenix inwardly despaired. "Okay, um... tell you what, Pearls. Why don't we go back to your room, and I'll tell you a story, okay? Maybe that'll help you sleep." He was answered with a bright smile. Phoenix returned the gesture halfheartedly, hoping that he'd actually be able to get the young girl to sleep.

"What kind of story are you going to tell?" Pearl asked as they arrived at her bedroom door.

Phoenix rubbed his chin in consideration as he followed her into her room. He hadn't thought that far... What's a good story for bedtime? He banished notions of the Steel Samurai as quickly as they arose in his head – no, an action-packed warrior wasn't going to put anyone to sleep. Let's see... it's Christmas eve, so maybe... "I've got it!" He snapped his fingers, wincing when Pearl glanced up, mildly alarmed. "That is... how would you like to hear a story about Christmas?"

"Oh! That sounds absolutely perfect, Mr. Nick!" The young medium-to-be hopped into her bed, and Phoenix smiled as she pulled the blankets up to her chin, sitting on the corner of the bed after she'd settled herself in.

"Okay, Pearls. It's called 'The Night Before Christmas'. I don't know if you've heard it before, but my mom always told it to me on Christmas eve so I could sleep." Pearl nodded attentively, and Phoenix, sucking in a deep breath, began the poem.

"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse."

Pearl gasped, looking terrified. "Oh, no! Are they..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Are they dead?"

Phoenix blinked, startled by the question. "What? N-no, of course not! They're just asleep, that's all." Pearl let out a sigh of relief, apparently mollified, and Phoenix warily continued.

"The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there."

Once again, Phoenix was interrupted. "Who's Saint Nicky-liss?"

The defense attorney inwardly groaned. How could she not know that? For what was far from the first time, Phoenix found himself in awe of how much Morgan Fey had seen fit not to teach her daughter. "Saint Nicholas is another name for Santa Claus. Actually, the name Santa Claus comes from the Dutch version of his name, Sinterklaas, and--"

"Mr. Nick..."

Phoenix cleared his throat. "Right," he said sheepishly. Anyway, I'll just continue..."

"The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads."

He paused for an interruption, as he assumed the child in front of him would ask what a sugar plum was. When she only cocked her head curiously, he continued, marveling that she had to ask who Saint Nicholas was but didn't even care about the sugar plums.

"And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap."

Phoenix was quite startled when a small hand struck his cheek, and he stared incredulously at Pearl Fey, who was now sitting up and glaring angrily at him. "What on earth was that for?" he demanded.

The girl huffed. "How dare you, Mr. Nick! Taking naps with strange women – why, Mystic Maya would be heartbroken! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

It was all Phoenix could do to keep from laughing. However, he managed to reign it in – thankfully so, as he suspected that otherwise he'd suffer another slap for it. When he finally felt he could safely talk, he replied, "Pearl... the story isn't about me. It's not even a real story... it's just made up. You know what that is, right?"

"Of course I do," Pearl responded. "Made up is like the stories Mystic Maya tells me, right? Like the Steel Samurai?"

"Exactly," Phoenix responded, letting out a sigh of relief. "So you don't need to worry about anything in the story, because none of it happened. It's just for fun." Pearl, apparently satisfied, nodded and pulled her blankets back up around her as she sank back into the bed. After a moment, the lawyer continued his recitation.

"When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I..."

He paused, frowning as he struggled to remember the verse.

"Ran?" Pearl suggested. He shook his head. "Walked?"

"No, it's... oh! Now I remember."

"Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below."

Pearl stared in horror. "Mr. Nick! How can you say things like that? If Mystic Maya heard you saying such naughty words..." Phoenix gulped as he thought back to the verse he'd just recited. Perhaps it might have been better to edit it slightly... he made a mental note to change any other seemingly questionable words in the poem that might come up.

"No, Pearls... they're not bad words, not like this. Sometimes a word might be bad to say in one way, but it's okay to say another time... do you know what I mean?"

"No."

He groaned, running a hand through his spiky hair. "What I mean is that... well, do you know how some words mean more than one thing?" Pearl nodded. "Well, sometimes, a word means more than one thing, and one of the things it means is bad. But the other one isn't, so as long as that's what you mean, it's okay to say it. Do you get it now?" Pearl looked uncertain, but nodded anyway, and Phoenix let out a relieved sigh before launching into the next verse.

"When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

"With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!"

Phoenix paused to look at Pearl and see how she was taking it. She stared at him in rapt fascination and he smiled, pleased that she was following along.

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

"What a lot of names," Pearl interjected, stifling a yawn. "How does he remember them all?"

Phoenix chuckled. "Santa has a very good memory. After all, he also remembers all the little boys and girls in the world who have been good or bad."

"Oh, that's right." Pearl considered the fact, and Phoenix took the opportunity to go on as she mulled over that point.

"As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St Nicholas too."

"A hurricane?" Pearl looked mildly worried.

"No, no, there wasn't a hurricane... he's just saying it's like a hurricane."

"He, who? I thought you were telling the story."

Phoenix sighed. "Never mind, Pearl. Don't worry about it." The young girl looked ready to protest, so Phoenix rushed on before she could speak.

"And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

"He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack."

Phoenix paused once again, and inwardly cheered as he noted that Pearl's eyelids were drooping. The young medium yawned, and Phoenix crossed his fingers as he dared to hope that she would drop off soon.

"His eyes - how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

"The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!"

Phoenix stopped as he realized that Pearl was softly snoring. That worked well. He briefly considered continuing the poem, but shook his head, deciding there was no point if she was already asleep. He stood and smiled at the sleeping figure, then stooped to brush a bit of hair from her face. "Merry Christmas to all," he murmured, turning to the door. "And to all a good night." Finding himself feeling rather sleepy, the defense attorney ambled back to his room and ducked under the covers. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.