The next morning, he was gone. He'd woken Moira briefly to say goodbye, giving each of the kids a kiss and disappearing. She wanted to latch onto him so he didn't have to go, but there was nothing she could do would make him stay. When he set his mind to something, that was it.

Kurt woke to wonder where Daddy was, and Moira was left to explain he'd be gone for a bit. He didn't quite understand and was upset, but Jimaine did well to distract him. She tried to distract herself as well, tending to the baby and readying for Christmas in the coming week. They'd bought a few small things for both children, but Moira wanted to get something a little extra, especially since their father would be gone. Over the next day she planted the seed that Kurt might want to write directly to Santa, and Moira offered to help. However, he was sure he could do it himself and, like his father, wouldn't change his mind.

She found him one morning, determined look on his face, crayon in hand, sitting at the kitchen table.

"What're you up to sweetheart?" Moira placed her mug on the table, sitting beside him.

"Busy, Mommy," he slid his eye to her then put crayon back to paper.

"Doing what?" she pried, smiling at his audacity.

"Writing to Santa," he replied in an irritated manner.

"What're you writing?"

"Just how are you and have a good day and my Christmas list," he told her.

"Ahh," she said. She watched him for a moment. "Are you excited for Santa to come?" Kurt nodded wordlessly, continuing to draw. "What are you asking for?"

"It's secret," he responded. "Only Santa can know."

That didn't help her. "I see." Moira took a sip from her mug. "You know, maybe you can help your sister write her list to Santa."

"No," he said. "Santa's not coming for her."

"He's not?" Moira furrowed her brow.

"No," Kurt repeated. "She's a bad baby. Santa doesn't like bad babies."

It seemed Kurt was on the outs with his sister again. He was so hot and cold with her, it worried Moira. She and Azazel both made a point to spend time with him to keep the jealousy at bay, but it didn't always work. There were days he loved her and days he didn't want anything to do with her. Moira dreamed of her children having the relationship she never had with her sisters and these developments made her sad.

"Why is she a bad baby?" she asked him.

"She is, she cries a lot and she doesn't sleep at night and she doesn't listen," he said.

"Babies are supposed to cry," she told him. "She loves you a whole lot, you know. Don't you love your sister?"

"She's not my sister," Kurt said.

Moira paused, looking to him. "Of course she is."

"No," he replied.

This was taking a turn she had dreaded since the day she found him. "Why do you say that?"

"Cause I don't want a sister," he said matter of factly. "I want a brother. That's what I told Santa, that I want a brother."

She let out a breath. "Well, angel, I don't know if Santa can bring that."

"Daddy said maybe one day," Kurt told her, and Moira silently cursed her husband. He was clear on his intentions for their family to grow, she just wished he'd slow down. "But I want Santa to know so he can work on it."

"Well, what else are you asking Santa for?" she asked him.

"It's secret," he gave her an annoyed look. "I said that."

Moira nodded. "I know. I just want to make sure Santa knows."

He looked up. "I want a truck like the one Stefan has. And a puppy. And an airplane. Also I want Santa to take Christine and leave a brother."

Moira sighed and stood. "Christine is staying. But we'll see about the others."

~&Q~

She'd had time to go out and get a few more small things, but their money was so tight she couldn't get everything Kurt was asking for. He'd finally opened up and given her the entire list, and while some were impossibilities – she'd had to let him down easy about the brontosaurus with a saddle – some were just out of their price range. Her daughter was too young to know the difference, but she wanted to really make this holiday special for her son. She didn't want him to lose the magic that was Santa.

It was Christmas Eve, and the children were in bed. Moira was up late with Margali, wrapping some last minute gifts. As she finished the bow on the last one and placed it below the tree, she sighed at how sparse it seemed.

"What is it?" Margali asked as she curled a ribbon.

"I just wish I could have gotten them more," she told the other woman. "I wish Alek was here. I wish we didn't have to hide." She looked down sadly. "I feel like so much has happened in the past few weeks. I wish everything would just be normal."

Margali laughed. "There's no such thing as normal." She reached over and took Moira's hand. "You did good for them. No need to feel bad."

Moira shrugged, arranging the gifts again. "I need to start weaning Christine. I need to get a job. I don't want Alek to do this anymore."

"He'll do it no matter what," Margali told her. "He enjoys it. It pays very well. He'll take care of you for the rest of your life with this."

"I don't want to be taken care of," Moira responded.

Margali shrugged. "He's headstrong, you know this. He can also be rather traditional. Trust me when I say, he knows you can take care of yourself and the children. He wants to contribute in his way." She placed her own gifts under the tree. "Come, lets get to bed. The kids will be up early."

~&Q~

"MOMMY!" Kurt jumped onto the bed, shoving against her. "Wake up Mommy, wake up! He came!"

Moira turned over with a yawn, still in the process of waking. "Who came?"

"Santa! He came and left a whole lot of presents!" he told her, rolling off the bed and running into the next room. Moira pulled herself out of bed and collected Christine before following her boy. At least the few things she was able to get for them seemed to excite him.

"Merry Christmas, beauty," she gave her daughter a little kiss on the head and turned the corner to the other room, stopping as she took in the tree.

"See all the presents?" Kurt was kneeling beside an enormous amount of gifts, far more than had been left by herself and Margali the night before. "This one's for me, this one's for me," he went through and started claiming each one.

Moira placed the little girl down in her carrier and sat beside Kurt. "We have to pick out the ones with your name," she found a few. "Here, see? What does that say?" she pointed to the tag.

"Ummm," he put a finger to his mouth. "Kurt!"

"That's right," she smiled at him. He took the package and tore through it. Moira noted it was one of the toys he'd asked for but she'd been unable to afford for him. He went about identifying another gift for him and tore through that as well.

Stefan and Jimaine had woken at this point and joined them, Margali setting off to make coffee. Kurt pulled on a rather large box in the back of the tree. "Mommy this one's for me!"

Moira went to help him and noticed the tag. She smiled warmly. "This one is from Christine, sweetie."

He quirked a brow. "From Christine?" he ripped open the package and his eyes went wide. "My truck!" He hopped over to his sister. "Thank you thank you thank you Christine!"

She watched as he kissed the baby on the head, silently thanking for Azazel's forethought. Kurt had been so negative about his sister lately, this would be something to help build the relationship back up. Moira turned again to the stacks and stacks of gifts, wondering when Azazel had had time for this, and where he was now.

~&Q~

The children had collapsed early. Just after dinner, each had gone into a food induced coma, clutching their favorite item from the day. Christine sat in her new walker, still a bit young to be able to use it, but enthralled with the colorful wooden balls attached to it. Moira sat beside her, showing her how they slid back and forth, the baby kicking excitedly as they did.

There were toys strewn everywhere, paper and boxes among them, and at the moment Moira had no interest in cleaning up. Margali had ushered her two to bed about an hour ago and Kurt was asleep under the tree. Moira loved being able to have this quiet time on Christmas with her family, yet was sad that someone was missing.

Christine began to rub her eyes, which Moira recognized as the evening fight against sleep. She pulled the girl into her arms, cradling her gently. "It was a good day, wasn't it beauty?"

The tail which so usually wrapped around her arm now found it's way into it's owners hand, the infant staring at it. She put it into her mouth and bit down lightly, jumping at the pain. The startle made her cry, and Moira bounced her a bit to sooth her. "Oh my love, that's part of you. Did that hurt?"

She barely felt as arms encircled her shoulders, but when she did she stiffened. "Shhh, is just me."

Moira turned to face her husband. "What're you-" He shushed her with a kiss, then turned to place a kiss to his daughter's head.

"Merry Christmas," he said to her, holding up a long box.

He took their daughter from her as she accepted the box. "You were supposed to be working."

"Finish early," he told her, holding the girl close. Christine cuddled into him comfortably.

"I can't believe," she started. "You did all this?" Moira indicated the boxes and wrapping around them.

"Nyet," he told her. "Santa."

Moira quirked a brow at him. He shrugged toward the box. "Open."

She turned her attention back to the box, gasping as she opened it. The most exquisite necklace was within, silver with, "Are these diamonds?"

"Of course," he told her, shifting the sleepy baby in his lap. "Only best for my wife."

"We can't afford this, Alek," she told him.

"Da, we can," he said. He moved their daughter to her carrier and took the necklace in his hands, clasping it around her neck. "Looks beautiful."

"Alek," she began worriedly, fingering the stones.

"Don't," he told her. "We can afford. We can have anything. I tell you this, Moira. Years ago. I tell you, we can have anything, do anything, go anywhere." His hand moved her hair off her shoulder, then went to cup her cheek. "You will never want for anything. Our children too."

She sighed, knowing better than to argue. Playing with the necklace again, she looked down. "I don't have anything for you."

"I have my family," he told her. "What else I need?"

Moira smiled and leaned forward to capture his lips. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," he smiled, then pulled her to him again.