When Esmeralda rolled over the next morning, she found the bed empty beside her. Surprised, she sat up to see that Claude was already dressed and had combed his hair. Judging by the wetness of it, she guessed he'd had a bath as well.

"Claude!" she protested, "you should be resting!"

He regarded her with a twinkle in his ocean-colored eyes.

"I'll sit down when I've had enough," he said rebelliously, "and from the looks of it, you needed the rest. What time is it?"

He was teasing her. Again.

"I don't know," she admitted, for he was blocking the small clock's face.

"It's almost noon," he told her, "Jehan said not to wake you because you haven't had much sleep the last few days."

For someone who had once been a carefree drunkard, Jehan was turning out to be quite the mother hen. As if reading her thoughts, Claude chuckled.

"Do you know why he's doing this?"

She shook her head.

"Because we were the first ones to ever show him kindness," Claude said, crossing the room to stand in front of her.

"There's something else you aren't telling me," Esmeralda said accusingly.

He sighed, sitting down beside her. She could always tell when something was troubling him because his eyes gave it away every time. Though the rest of his face might change, his eyes always betrayed him. He had the most expressive eyes she'd ever seen.

"Very well," he muttered, "the bishop is visiting tomorrow, with it being Christmas. The others are going to tell him you've been here and it might be my last day. But you know what? I could care less. I've done plenty of things for Notre Dame. I want to be with you now."

Esmeralda's heart warmed.

"I would argue with you, you know," she replied, "but almost losing you was terrifying. I'm selfish for this, but I'm not letting go of you either. Things will work out…"

She suddenly thought of something that would mean more to Claude than any other present she could give him.

"Claude?"

"Hmmm?"

He had pulled her against him and was breathing in her smell.

"I want you to baptize me."

He froze for a moment, then turned her so that she was looking at him.

"Really?"

She nodded.

"So much has happened in the last several months…just when I thought I was done for, everything fell into place as if by magic…but it was His magic…there's no way I could not believe now."

He hugged her so tightly that she couldn't breathe good for a moment.

"Oh my…this is wonderful! Esmeralda…if nothing else went right this year, that alone would make it worth the trouble!"

He was quivering all over with joy and breathing so hard that she rubbed his back to calm him down.

"Easy, Claude, don't get overexcited," she warned him, not wanting him to have a relapse.

"I've never felt better in my life," he choked out, eyes filling with joyful tears. It was as though so much joy filled him that it spilled out of his heart and onto his cheeks. She kissed them away and relished the saltiness on her lips.

"On Christmas Day, too," he breathed, "it will inspire hope to all who see it!"

"Exactly."

"I've got to go tell Jacques!"

And away he dashed. Esmeralda smiled—it was as though the years were erased. He seemed feather-light and as energetic as a schoolboy. She giggled to herself when he ran through the cathedral shouting at the top of his lungs about her being saved. Jehan and Jacques couldn't get him to settle down. In the end, it was Quasimodo who bodily picked him up and sat him down by the fire.

"Sit down, Master," he said gently, "I will ring the bells to let all of Paris know!"

Claude was smiling more than anyone had ever seen him. Sensing that a distraction was needed so that he didn't take off running again, the children came tugging at his sleeves.

"Tell us The Story again," they begged. Though they were both growing fast and almost couldn't fit into Claude's narrow lap, he shifted around and accommodated both of them as best he could. It was a very tight fit and they both had to hold onto him or risk sliding off.

"All right," he gave in, "it all started when God saw that humans needed help learning how to love each other and love Him. Some of them felt very lonely and didn't understand that God was really with them all the time, they just thought He stayed up in Heaven all the time and never visited the earth. That's where Jesus comes in. Jesus always existed, but he was like a ray of sunshine or a cloud of smoke…no one really knows what he looked like before he was born except for God Himself. So, he chose a woman named Mary to give Jesus a body….that is, he would grow as a baby in her tummy and come out when he was ready…"

As Claude told them the story of the Nativity, Jacques and Jehan snuck off to wrap the presents for the children so that no one would get suspicious. The presents that were intended for Jacques and Jehan had already been wrapped by Esmeralda. Claude was relieved to know that Jacques and Esmeralda had already picked up gifts for the children that they would say were from him.

Lunchtime passed very quickly. The cathedral had been cleaned from ceiling to floor and no one dared track snow or mud in on the smooth stone floors or the soft rugs. The wooden pews had been polished to a bright gleam and the stained glass windows were bright in the dim light. The monks that were in the choir practiced singing in their tiered pews behind the stage with their snowy white robes without a single spot or wrinkle. The children paused to watch them for a moment. Tomorrow, they would be holding lit candles. Claude said it was fine to watch as long as they weren't disturbed.

He had special plans for this Christmas. After the sermon, he said, the offerings that people gave were going to be distributed to the poor.

"I really wish we could do it more than once a year," Claude confessed, "but people tend to forget about it the rest of the time."

The children went into the store room with him and collected dozens of baskets made from braided straw and woven reeds. They lined them with bits of cloth to make sure that none of the coins slipped out, then tied ribbons around the handles. Ginger decorated them even further by sticking sprigs of holly into the grooves of the handles.

"I don't know if we'll get the fullest baskets in Paris," she admitted, "but we'll have the prettiest ones."

"Yes we will." Claude placed a hand on her shoulder and wished everyone thought like children. The bright red and green decorated baskets might attract more attention than the plain ones. Quasimodo had kept his promise and was ringing the bells in a series of melodies. He knew exactly which ones made what sounds and they were going to the tune of a Christmas song.

"He sounds happy," Andrew commented on the lively tune that the bells were making.

"He must be," Claude laughed, "it takes a great deal of exercise to play a tune like that. Come on…we have a few other things to do."

There would be no lessons today or tomorrow since it was a holiday. After they had done all the chores that little hands were capable of, Claude sent them out to play. He wanted them to enjoy Christmas Eve and Christmas Day before they became adults and had to work all the time. He needed only to clear his throat when a stray snowball came sailing in through an open door.

"Let's not do it by the doors, please," he called as Esmeralda swept the snow back outside.

"Sorry!" Andrew called.

He stood there watching them for a moment.

"They're growing so fast," he commented, "I swear…Ginger was only up to here when I first saw her."

He held out a hand to show the height.

"Now she's to here. And Andrew is catching up with her."

Esmeralda paused in sweeping.

"They're not the only ones who have grown," she commented.

"Yes, I know," Claude said, still watching outside, "nothing makes one grow up faster than having children."

He turned to see Esmeralda pulling her own coat on.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

She grinned.

"Where do you think I'm going? Growing up is all fine and good, but I like being a child sometimes, too!"

And she bounded off into the snow.

Claude gave chase. The cold took his breath away. His chest and throat itched and for one dreadful moment, he thought he was going to start coughing again. When he didn't, he was relieved.

It didn't last for long.

SMACK!

A snowball hit him right in the face and exploded.

"Hey!" He protested.

"You didn't claim sanctuary," Ginger teased, "get him, Andrew!"

SMACK!

Claude had ducked and the snowball hit the wall behind him. Shaking his head, he bent and scooped up a handful of snow.

"Oh, no, you don't! I may be getting old, but I'm as fast as you are!"

Andrew shrieked with laughter when the snowball pelted him in the arm. Soon, the snowballs were flying thick. Suddenly, Claude was hit with several at once.

"What the…?"

It was then that he realized that some of the other clerics had joined the game. Claude didn't chastise them for leaving work and instead chased after them as well. Quasimodo got in on the game from above, casting clouds of powdery snow off the edge of the tower over them all. It didn't take long for Claude to get out of breath. He dropped onto a nearby bench, panting. He was very warm and knew he'd catch a chill if he started to sweat.

"Just a moment," he told them, "go get Jehan."

"Say it, quick!" Andrew warned, preparing to fling another snowball.

"Fine. Sanctuary. Now go on!"

They did. Claude chuckled to himself, wondering who had come up with the "sanctuary" idea.

The snow began to fall again and it promised to be a very chilly night. Everyone shook the snow out of their clothes and hair and helped to dust each other off. They stomped the snow off of their shoes before hanging their coats, cloaks, mittens, scarves, and hats in the entryway. At dinnertime, they were all ravenously hungry from the exercise and the laughter. Everyone's face glowed rosy with the cold and exercise. Somehow, despite the two or three hours of playing outside, all the preparations for tomorrow were in place and Claude did not have the slightest guilty conscience about going to bed early. He slept so heavily that he woke up a little cramped in the middle of the night and had to stretch his sore shoulder before going back to sleep.

BONG!

Claude jerked awake, sitting up.

"Quasimodo," he mumbled irritably before it occurred to him what the hunchback was doing.

BONG! Clang! Ding! Dong!

It was officially Christmas. Claude smiled once his heart stopped pounding and lay awake listening to the melody. No doubt that everyone in the cathedral was doing the same…

The next time Claude woke, the sky was still turning from royal blue to gray.

"Wake up, Father! It's Christmas!"

Both children were talking so fast he could hardly understand them. Still all ghostly white in their night clothes, they pounced on him and tugged at him until he sat up. Esmeralda was right behind them.

"Sorry," she apologized, "they run so fast…I turned my back once and they were gone."

"It only comes once a year," Claude commented, indicating all was forgiven.

"Come on!" Ginger gave a particularly hard tug and almost yanked him out of bed.

"Go get dressed," Claude told them, "and then come downstairs. You'll get a chill in your nightgowns!"

They sighed and ran upstairs.

"I'd better go help them," Esmeralda laughed, "or they'll end up with everything inside out and backwards!"

"In a moment."

He shook his covers out and straightened them. Then, he pulled her into his arms.

"Merry Christmas, Claude," she said sweetly.

"Merry Christmas," he replied before kissing her in a rather un-priestly way. She crushed herself against him, all warmth and womanly curves. Claude felt the flames ignite and spread all over. His hands ran down her sides, up and down and lit flames under her skin as well.

"We'd better stop," she whispered, "while we still can."

Reluctantly, he released her.

"If you insist on pressing against me like that, I won't be able to," he reminded her. She ran her fingertips over one of his flushed cheeks and smiled.

"I'd better go help the children."

He nodded, watching her go upstairs. She still wore her soft cotton nightgown and it clung to her warm skin. One sleeve had slipped down her shoulder a little and a sliver of golden back was visible. Her bare feet danced over the stones as she hurried back to the bell tower. He gave a sigh and began to get dressed. One of these days, he would be able to stop stealing little moments here and there like a thief and really claim her as his treasure.

The white and gold robes made him look very festive. Many of the other monks were also wearing brand-new robes with silver stitching in the trim, but none looked as nice as he did (though Claude himself would never ever make that assumption). That morning's service went quite smoothly and even the gypsies seemed to care about what was being said. There wasn't a single boo, hiss, or heckle from them at all and some even smiled at him. The children had yet to make an appearance, which worried him just a little, but he was sure they couldn't get into that much trouble.

Then, it was time for the baptism. Esmeralda had changed into a plain white robe that Jacques had given her. She approached the baptismal pool without hesitation and stepped into the water. Claude was a little concerned about her getting cold, but he saw a little bit of steam coming off of it and realized it had been heated.

Thank goodness…that was nice of the cook. I'll have to give her a day off sometime soon, Claude thought.

"This is Esmeralda," he said, introducing her to the congregation, "and on this most important day of the year, she has chosen to give her life to God."

His eyes suddenly met a very familiar pair in the crowd. The bishop was here. Claude swallowed nervously, but refused to let his nerves get the best of him. Willing himself to keep his voice steady and strong, Claude asked Esmeralda if she had truly accepted God as her ruler and savior. After she had said yes, he eased her back into the water and submerged her. There was a huge amount of clapping and cheering from the crowd.

Then, the children were there. They were also wearing white robes. Claude, stunned and surprised, began to tremble. He glanced over at Jacques who nodded. Apparently, they did understand what they were doing. Andrew was first, then Ginger. Some people were so moved that they began to get out of their pews and push past everybody. Claude lost count of how many people were saved on that wonderful Christmas morning.

Everyone was late getting to lunch due to the unexpected delays. Claude braced himself for the tongue-lashing he knew he was going to get. Esmeralda was careful to disappear into the crowd.

"Very moving, Dom Claude," the bishop said sternly, "but I think you know why I'm here."

"Yes, sir," Claude said, sounding like a child who had been scolded.

"Word was sent to me that you were very ill. Even now, you look very pale and thin."

Claude swallowed nervously and stared at the rings on the bishop's hands. He didn't dare look the bishop in the face.

"You love Esmeralda very much, don't you?"

"Yes, sir…"

Claude's voice sounded quiet and small. If the bishop hadn't seen his mouth move, he would have sworn that Claude hadn't spoken at all.

"I want to have a word with all of you tomorrow," the bishop said, "in your office. Do not be tardy."

"Yes, sir."

It was very hard to pretend as though everything was fine. It wasn't until the children reappeared again that Claude really smiled. Esmeralda had dressed them both very nicely and she was a vision in a scarlet-colored dress with gold trim. Slowly, the guests diffused after Christmas dinner and the small family gathered by the fireplace. They took turns reading Ginger's book out loud and he admired Andrew's drawing in the frame. He promised to hang it where everyone could see it. Esmeralda wrapped the beautiful scarf around her neck and shared Andrew's batch of tarts with everyone. There were a few more gifts exchanged and then the children took off to play with their new toys. In Claude's opinion, it was the best Christmas ever.

"He said something to you, didn't he?" Esmeralda asked Claude once everyone else had gone.

"Yes. But I don't care anymore," Claude said firmly, "he cannot make me stop feeling something regardless of whether I leave the cathedral or not."

"Don't worry," Esmeralda said, gently rubbing his shoulders, "I'll never leave you and neither will God and that's all that matters, right?"

He leaned back into her touch, eyes closing in contentment.

"Right."