AN: Merry Christmas if you celebrate! If you don't celebrate, you'll probably identify with Brian a lot in this chapter about how Western society has a Christian-normative view on holidays. Also, I am American so if the under-celebration of Hanukkah (and other high holidays) by the masses isn't really a thing in England, I'm sorry. I'm just assuming that in a predominantly Christian country in the 1950s, this would be a problem.

Also, I'm really sorry about this chapter. It's short and not that good. I've been trying to do a million things - one of those things not being working on this chapter. I had a lot of plans for this, but I merely ran out of time. But it's alright because there will be many more holidays for them.

Anyways, happy holidays and a happy New Year!

December, 1955

"But why is Jesus a baby? Why do you make Jesus a baby?"

"Because Christmas is the day Jesus was born."

"But he didn't stay a baby, Mal!"

"It's part of the story, Brian!"

"What story?"

"Every story!"

Brian sighed in frustration. Lily shook her head at the two men as she walked into the living room. She handed Brian a cup of coffee and smiled.

"You'll pick up on it," she said. "All you'll really need is a tree and some presents."

"Why a tree?" Brian asked.

"No one knows," Mal said.

"We'll help you out," Lily said. "We'll help you and the boys find a tree and decorate."

"I'll have to bake, won't I?"

"Of course! The boys have to set out cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve."

"But you'll have to be the one who eats them," Mal said.

"I feel bad about this Santa ordeal," Brian said.

"Don't." Mal rolled his eyes. "They won't be ruined for it."

Brian sighed. "Should I be taking notes?"

"No," Lily said. "How about we go out right now and look for presents? That's one thing you can get out of the way."

"I don't know what -"

Lily raised her finger, silencing Brian. "I'm going to get my coat, and we'll leave in five minutes."

"Alright, I suppose."

Lily walked out of the room before he finished his sentence.

"You can't over think this," Mal said. "You buy them toys you think they'll love. You know them well by now. Christmas gifts are no different than regular gifts."

"Then what makes Christmas special?"

"It's the season, Brian. The boys are going to love Christmas regardless as long as they know it's a special day."

Brian nodded. "I understand."

"Good." Mal rose and began walking to the hat stand.

"I have one more question."

"Yeah?"

"When exactly is Christmas?"

Brian woke to giggling - which would normally be the best thing to wake up to, if it was not six o'clock in the morning.

"Boys?" he mumbled, not opening his eyes.

Suddenly, there was jumping. He bolted up when he felt two bodies clamber on his bed, one to cuddle and one to bounce.

"It's Christmas! Santa was here!" Ritchie said, curling up to his side.

They had been through the confusion of when Christmas was for weeks. When the boys began to see decorations, they immediately began to ask, everyday, if Christmas was tomorrow. Finally, Brian could say yes and wake up to the smiling faces of the boys.

He groaned. It was just so early.

"Let's sleep for a little bit longer," he said, grabbing the small, chubby bodies and laying them back down.

"But it's Christmas!" John said, squirming.

"Are Paul and George awake?"

"Yeah," Ritchie said.

At least they can't get out, Brian thought, followed by, I'm a terrible foster father.

Brian knew that if he would lay still for a few more minutes, he would be sound asleep again.

"B'yan," John whispered. "Are you sleeping?"

"Yes."

Ritchie giggled. "Then how are you talking?"

Brian just hummed.

"C'mon," John whined. "It's Christmas."

"Alright. Let's get George and Paul, and we can go downstairs."

Ritchie and John cheered in triumph.

George and Paul were curled around each other, wrapping paper and toys scattered around them. They slept peacefully, filled with sweets and milk, clothed in their favorite pajamas.

Ritchie and John made a small commotion with their new toys. Their ecstatic squeals and laughter somehow didn't disturb the sleeping boys or the adults around the kitchen table.

"Are they old enough to drink eggnog?" Mal asked.

Lily nodded. "Paul and George aren't, but Ritchie and John should be."

"What's in it?" Brian asked.

"Eggs," Mal said.

"I gathered."

"It's raw eggs," Lily explained. "It's fine."

"Why does anyone drink that?"

Lily laughed and stood to get the boys.

"It's not bad," Mal said.

He, too, rose, but walked to the fridge. He poured a glass of eggnog and set in front of Brian.

"Are you expecting me to drink this?"

"Yes."

Brian inspected it. He sloshed it around in the glass, unhappy by the thickness and brown dots floating in it.

"What does it taste like?" he asked.

"It tastes like eggnog."

Brian wasn't amused.

Lily walked back in the room with both boys on both sides of her. She helped them into their chairs and ruffled their hair.

Brian let the thick, off-white, liquid touch his lips, then the tip of his tongue. When he realized there was no imminent danger, he filled his mouth.

Ritchie and John laughed at his face. He frowned heavily and had to force himself to swallow, though he wasn't sure how it was supposed to go down.

"I can fix this," Mal said. "I know where you keep the key to the liquor cabinet."

Lily shook her head and placed two small glasses of eggnog in front of the boys. They smiled and immediately began drinking it.

"Do you like it?" Brian asked.

They nodded and only set down their glasses when Lily came with plates of cookies.

Brian smiled and reached out for Ritchie's hair. He stroked the sandy locks, noting how long it was, and pushing it behind his ear.

Mal poured a generous amount of cognac into Brian's glass.

"Thank you," Brian said.

"I've never met an adult who actually likes it virgin."

Brian rolled his eyes.

"And you hardly like anything virgin period," Mal added.

"Can't you two do this after the boys go to bed?" Lily asked.

Ritchie and John looked at the two men with curious-bright eyes.

"That's hours from now," Mal said.

Brian wiped crumbs from Ritchie's mouth.

"Are you boys having a nice Christmas?" he asked.

They nodded. Their little mouths were too full of toddler-designed Christmas trees and Santa hats to talk.

"You must have been very good this year," Lily said. "Santa gave you everything you wanted, didn't he?"

"Yeah!" John tried saying.

"John, don't talk with your mouth full," Brian said.

He nodded and took another bite of a hat.

Brian continued playing with Ritchie's hair.

"Why didn't Santa get you anything?" Ritchie asked.

"Because I don't need any presents. You boys are all I want," Brian said. "And I actually don't celebrate Christmas. This is my first Christmas."

"What?" John asked, scandalized.

"Why?" Ritchie asked.

"I have a different religion and culture than you boys. My people don't have Christmas. We do other things usually."

Ritchie accepted it. John looked skeptical. They most likely didn't understand what had just been explained to them or what religion and culture was.

"I enjoy Christmas, though," he said. "And I enjoy spending it with you boys."

"I enjoy it, too," Ritchie said.

"Me, too," John said.

Brian smiled. "How about we wake up George and Paul, and we can watch telly before dinner."

They climbed down from their chairs and walked to the sitting room in the rushed fashion they always traveled.

Brian could see them from the kitchen. They kneeled next to the slumbering boys and gently nudged them. Paul sat up, rubbing his eyes and red cheeks. George scooted over to John for a wake up cuddle - something he almost always requested after naps. John gladly allowed him to do so and returned the gesture.

"They are so precious," Lily said. "I know I say that all the time, but they are the most precious children I've seen."

"I know," Brian said. "I wish I had something to do with it."

"You've done plenty."

They admired the boys for a moment more.

"Remember when you asked me what made Christmas special?" Mal asked.

"Don't say anything sloshy," Brian warned.

Mal smirked. He didn't have to say anything else.