As soon as the door was opened, Layla was bounding down the stairs and running straight for her Uncle Bickslow. He didn't even get a chance to even step into her house before his niece was hugging his middle. "Uncle Bicks! Uncle Bicks!"

Saskia rolled her eyes as she helped Lucy bring in their bags for their week long stay, only finding it just a little difficult to move since Bickslow was still right in the doorway. "Layla, you could have at least waited until he was actually inside."

"Don't worry 'bout it. This is fine," Bickslow chuckled. Really, he didn't mind being attacked by Layla as soon as he'd even gotten there. It was kind of great. Passing his bag to Lucy so she could take them upstairs with his sister, Bickslow managed to pry himself from the girl's arms just long enough so he was able to duck down to quickly pick her up. He only frowned a little when he adjusted his grip before he asked, "Did you get bigger? I swear you got bigger."

Layla nodded quickly and the ponytail on the side of her head bounced with her. "Yup!" She'd grown an entire inch taller!

"You know, at this rate you're gonna be taller than your mother. But then again, everyone is taller than your mother…" Well, apart from Lucy. Lucy wasn't taller than either of his sisters. But that was okay with Bickslow. He loved the fact that Lucy was short. As Layla only giggled, Bickslow closed the door behind them before he looked back to his niece with an infectious smile. "Now, how about we go find your Mama and Aunt Lucy?"

Layla nodded again and pointed for the stairs just ahead of them. "Aunt Lucy went upstairs with Mama."

"Well, upstairs it is then!"

They were staying at Saskia's house for the whole week they were there, not that they'd really had much say in the matter. As soon as Bickslow had told them they'd go up to Crocus to spend Christmas with them all, his sisters had already decided that they'd be staying at Saskia's and not a hotel, since Saskia had her spare room set up as a guest room. And really, Bickslow had just known better than to argue with his sisters.

The entire last week leading up to that morning where they'd left for Crocus, Bickslow had been far too excited. Between being able to spend Christmas with his family for the first time in nearly a decade (well, for him, anyway), and Lucy deciding she wanted to start working on their own family soon, Bickslow had plenty to be excited about. Lucy had already been told by Laxus to not give the Seith mage any more sugar, because even if Lucy found his constant good moods for the last couple of weeks enjoyable and adorable, the rest of the guild did not. There was a limit on how much Bickslow they could handle, and an incredibly happy and hyperactive Bickslow was just a little frightening.

But Bickslow was also excited about the house, too. He was still worried that Lucy would freak out and get really mad at him about it, but he was mostly optimistic. Bickslow just hadn't brought it up. Or even come close to bringing it up. Even if he was calling it a Christmas present, he'd never had any intentions of telling her about it or taking her there before Christmas. He could show her the house when they got back before New Year's Eve.

"Uncle Bickslow?"

He glanced to Layla again as he rounded the bend in the stairs. "Uh-huh?"

"Did you bring me presents?" she asked, her dark eyes filling with hope.

Bickslow only grimaced. "I knew there was something I forgot about…" he mumbled, and he only waited until Layla's face completely fell and she was heartbroken before he was kissing the top of her head and hugging her a little tighter. "Ah, I'm just playin'," Bickslow laughed quietly. Was he being a terrible person? Probably. But he couldn't help himself. "Of course I got you presents." And Bickslow had had a lot of fun getting Christmas presents for his niece and nephews. If anything, Christmas shopping for those three had been the easiest of it all.

When they reached the room they were staying in, Bickslow lowered Layla back down to the ground and only rolled his eyes when she instantly went other to her mother and proceeded to tell on him. "Mama," she whined, hugging Saskia's waist. "Uncle Bicks is a meany."

"Bickslow, don't terrorise your niece," Lucy sighed as she folded up her jacket and placed it over the bed – she could find somewhere else to put it later.

"I wasn't terrorising her, thank you very much."

Saskia shook her head as he looked down to her daughter. "What did Pixie do, huh?"

"Said he didn't get me any presents," the girl sniffled.

"But I did though!" Bickslow tried defending himself. Really, he'd gotten her lots of presents – well, a few. But he really couldn't let his sister believe that he didn't get his niece anything. He looked around the room for one of his bags before he spied it on the other side of the bed and quickly went over to it, just so he could pull out the few wrapped gifts he'd stowed in there. The larger ones they hadn't wanted to carry had been sent to the Spirit World temporarily. "See! I told you I got you presents. I was only kidding before, Layla. I promise."

Layla sniffled again. "Can I… Can I open one now?" she whispered.

"No, Layla," her mother broke in. "You have to wait until tomorrow morning to open your presents."

"But—"

"No buts. Now how about we go help Papa get lunch finished so Bicks and Lucy can start unpacking." And Layla didn't stay for long after that, only letting go of Saskia so she could run back out into the hall and down the stairs.

Saskia couldn't help roll her eyes as she gently took the presents from her brother's arms. Layla had always loved helping Xander – her father – in the kitchen and had always jumped at the chance to make a mess (and it was of course a mess Saskia always had to clean up, but she was used to it). "Lunch will be ready in about fifteen minutes," she sighed, balancing the presents in her arms as she turned for the hall before she pointed to the closed wardrobe behind Lucy. "You can hang your clothes up in there if you'd like, or put them in the dresser. Most of the drawers in here are empty, too, so you could use those. Oh, and, there should be some towels in the bottom drawer of the dresser, but I'll bring you some more if there's not."

Lucy nodded. "Alright," she said with a smile. Unpacking didn't seem like such a bad idea. They were there for a little while so at least it would save them from having to get their things out of their bags all the time, and they'd already been told that they should just make themselves at home since they were family.

Bickslow was already picking up one of his bags and dropping it on the bed as he thanked the twin, and then Saskia was only smiling back before turning to carry the presents downstairs to the tree.

As soon as Saskia was gone, Lucy was sighing and collapsing face down on the bed though, right on top of the clothes she'd been taking out and organising to hang up or stow away in a drawer. She was just so exhausted. How long it took to get to Crocus was the only bad part about it, and it was the part Lucy hated the most. She had tried sleeping on the train that morning, as well as in the carriage that had taken them from the last station that was closest to Crocus and into the city, but she had failed. And all Lucy wanted to do right then was sleep.

Bickslow was chuckling as he unpacked his bag and stacked them up on the bed in front of him. "You can't sleep yet, Lucy."

"But I'm so tired," she mumbled. Lucy peeked an eye open to the pile of Bickslow's clothes that were right in front of her and she dragged the two sweaters from the top of the pile and folded them under her head. His clothes always smelled so nice. "Just let me nap. Just for a little while."

He yanked the clothes out from under her and laughed quietly again when she lazily tried to pull them back from him. He won, of course. "Nope. No napping," he insisted, and he was swiping the rest of his clothes away from her before she could use those as pillows too. "We'll just have an early night tonight, okay? Because you know we're going to have to be up early tomorrow, anyway. No sleep ins on Christmas morning here." He already knew Sara's family would be getting there early the next morning, and considering all of his sisters' children were still young, they all still believed in Santa, which meant they were all super excited to be able to open the presents that would magically appear under the tree on Christmas morning that were from the fat guy in the red suit (or so they thought, anyway). At the very least though, Layla knew that not all the presents came from Santa. That was good.

Bickslow really didn't mind the fact he'd probably be getting woken up at the crack of dawn by either his sister or his niece. Oh no. He was strangely looking forward to it. And if anything, he was considering it practice for when his own children were old enough to come running into his room shouting about how Santa had come.

"But… Can't I just sleep until lunch is ready?" Lucy moaned. "Please?"

Bickslow sighed and rolled his eyes reluctantly. "Fine." He even handed her another one of his jumpers to sleep on for some strange reason. "Just fifteen minutes though, okay?"

Bickslow stared up at the ceiling in the dark room, completely mortified. It was tempting to grab the pillow and cover his face with it so he could suffocate himself. At least he'd be put out of his misery then.

Next to him, Lucy was just trying really hard not to laugh. She was struggling, of course, but she wasn't laughing. Her cheeks did, however, hurt from smiling too much, but that was fine, even if she felt horrible for finding the situation amusing. She really shouldn't.

Lucy bit her lip to keep a giggle from slipping past her lips as she slid her hand back up her fiancé's stomach and up to his chest and over his shirt. "So, uh… Does that happen now?" she whispered. "Or… not happen, I suppose…"

Bickslow grabbed the pillow from behind his head then and covered his face with it, and that was when Lucy couldn't keep herself quiet for even a second longer. It was like rubbing salt in the wound.

He shook his head into the pillow before Lucy was pulling it away. "Um, no. Definitely not," he mumbled. And the fact that Lucy had even found it necessary to ask him that was almost as horrible as the part where he was seemingly incapable of getting hard right then. Really. It was horrible. And had most definitely not happened before – at least not with Lucy, anyway.

It just… wasn't happening.

But the fact that their room there was right next to his sister's room – the one she did, of course, share with her husband – was most definitely not helping, either. Because apparently, Bickslow and Lucy weren't the only ones who had thought Christmas Eve night was a great time to get lucky, which meant every giggle or creak of the bed from the next room had Bickslow flinching, grimacing, and wishing they'd stayed at a hotel with thicker walls.

There were some things that were just better left unheard.

At the giggle and the quiet moan Bickslow was sure he unfortunately heard, Bickslow was quickly swinging his legs out of bed and pulling himself up. He couldn't handle it, and as quiet as they were, they weren't quiet enough, and Bickslow most definitely did not want to be there to hear either one of them climax. Oh no. He really would rather suffocate himself than hear that.

So Bickslow stormed as quietly as he possibly could out into the hall and past the bathroom and Layla's room and then down the stairs. He would go back and try to sleep when they were done.

Lucy had followed him down into the kitchen where he found himself warming up some milk on the stove for a hot chocolate, and she was giggling quietly again as she handed him the carton to heat more up – she wanted some too, thank you very much. "I'm really sorry," she giggled, wrapping her arms around the Seith mage's waist and forcing him to move his arm for her. "I shouldn't laugh."

"Damn right you shouldn't," Bickslow mumbled.

"I should probably just forget it even happened – or didn't happ—"

"Lucy."

"Okay, okay," she snickered. Really, she was being a terrible person right then. She knew it. But she could really only be a terrible person with Bickslow anyway. Still, she should stop teasing him about it. She should just remove it from her memory and forget it happened at all. "I'll stop teasing you about it now." Lucy stood up on her tiptoes in the kitchen and quickly kissed his cheek. "Promise."

By the time Bickslow was done with the hot chocolate, Lucy had already made herself comfortable on the lounge in front of the Christmas tree. He handed her the one that was full of mini marshmallows first before setting his own down on the coffee table and going around to the tree and pulling a candy cane from one of the branches, then with his candy cane and hot chocolate in his hands, Bickslow was getting comfortable on the lounge next to his fiancée and letting her drape her legs over his lap. Because really, there was nothing better than sitting up in the middle of the night drinking hot chocolate and watching the lights flicker on the Christmas tree.

"I think…" Lucy began, sipping from her drink and staring to the tree as Bickslow stirred his own drink with the peppermint candy. "We should get a really big Christmas tree when we're at home for Christmas next year."

"Yeah? How big?" he asked.

"Hmm. Maybe one that touches the ceiling," she mused. "Oh, but there'd have to be room at the top for the star."

"The star?"

Lucy nodded. "Yeah! You know, those toppers? I have this crystal one that we used to put on the tree every year when I was little," she smiled, sipping at the hot chocolate again. "Father would always let me sit on his shoulders so I could put it on the very top. I remember it fell one year because I couldn't reach properly, but then my mum caught it before it hit the ground so it didn't break. But then um… But then she died and I never got to put the star on the tree again because Father just…"

"I know," Bickslow said softly when Lucy trailed off. Her parents and her past were things he knew all about.

"But anyway," she continued, sipping from her drink again and getting a small bit of unmelted marshmallow that time. "I just want a super big tree. Maybe when we get a new place, you know, when we have kids, we can have a fireplace, too. Have the tree in the corner so it doesn't catch fire or anything, so then when it's cold we can sit up in front of the fire and drink hot chocolate like this."

Bickslow smiled as he tipped his head back into the top of the sofa cushions and closed his eyes. "Mm, that sounds lovely," he hummed.

"Are you picturing it?" Lucy whispered.

"Mm-hmm."

He was picturing it in the house that he hoped Lucy would really love too, of course. He was picturing the tree with the supposed crystal star tree topper on it right in the corner next to the windows at the front of the room, the fire lit just next to it, and Lucy tucked into the corner of a lounge with her hot chocolate and a book. It was a good thing the ceilings in the house were a little higher than normal because it meant Lucy would be able to have her super tall tree that touched the ceiling.

But still, that was only assuming Lucy liked the house and wanted to fix it up with him so they could make it better than it already was.

Sipping from her hot chocolate again, Lucy smiled into the mug as she heard the quiet, tiny little footsteps in the hall and felt someone lurking. "Bicks?" she murmured. "I think someone is out of bed."

"Yeah?" Bickslow didn't even glance over his shoulder to where he knew his niece was peeking around the wall as he added, "It's a good thing Santa has already been then, otherwise the little one who should be asleep would be in trouble."

Layla gasped quietly and finally stepped into the room. "Santa came?!"

Kids are so adorable. "Uh-huh. Come and see." Of course, it was really wasn't Santa, since Saskia and Xander had brought out the rest of the presents once Layla had gone to bed earlier. There'd only been a few under it before – some of the ones from himself and Lucy that were for everyone, as well as a few from Saskia and Xander for the twins or even Bickslow and Lucy themselves – but now, there were so many more! Saskia and Xander had even taken care of the milk and cookies that their daughter had left out, and, well… Bickslow had helped, of course. He really loved cookies.

So when Layla then quietly ran into the room and proceeded to sit on the floor next to the pile of presents under the tree and go through them, trying to see if her presents were all bigger than the ones for her cousins (because Santa knew to leave some of her cousins' presents at their house or some of Layla's at Aunty Sara's house, depending on the year), Bickslow could only watch in silent amusement and continue stirring his drink with the candy cane.

"You know you shouldn't be awake, Layla," Lucy said softly.

"I know, but I just really wanted to see Santa!" the girl said. She stopped shaking one of the smaller ones by her ear to look back to Bickslow. "Did you see him, Uncle Bicks?"

"Just missed him, I think."

"Oh…"

He got up from the lounge after Lucy tucked her legs back in against her chest and he knelt down in front of his niece. "But he most definitely came," Bickslow began softly, gently prying the gift from her hand to set it back on the pile. "None of these presents would be here otherwise. Santa's just real busy tonight. I'm sure he would've stayed and waited for you so you could meet him if he could have, but he's just got so many other houses to visit tonight, and he has to make sure he gets to all of the other good little boys and girls. And sometimes, Layla, that just means he can't stay for a little while longer to meet kids like you because he doesn't want any other children to wake up disappointed because he couldn't get to them on time."

"But…" Layla sank down onto the floor and crossed her legs under her. "Santa's magic," she pointed out.

"Every magic has its limit though."

And then Layla just pouted, because she'd really just wanted to meet Santa, before she nodded once and said just, "Okay." As disappointed as she was, because really, she still wanted Santa all to herself so she got all the presents, she didn't want her friends – or god forbid even her cousins – to be disappointed on Christmas morning because Santa had been running late, especially because of her.

She could sort of deal with not catching Santa that year if other kids got all of their presents, too. And besides, there was always next year. Maybe she would just sneak out of bed a little earlier then.

"Good. Now, how about you get back to bed before your parents find out you're up in the first place, huh?" And of course, Bickslow didn't actually give his niece a chance to respond before he was standing up and picking her up at the same time. "No, really," he continued, already stepping over another present and heading towards the stairs with a giggling six-year-old. "If your parents find out that you got up and that I didn't tell you to go straight back to bed, I'll be in trouble. You don't want me to get in trouble, do you?"

"Um…"

"Hey now…" Bickslow mumbled, and shook his head as Layla began to giggle into her hand. "You are an evil child."

"That's what Mama says sometimes."

"Oh, I don't doubt that. But do you wanna know a secret?"

Layla nodded as she climbed back into bed.

Bickslow waited until Layla was all tucked in again before he was leaning back down to whisper, "It's an Alderwood thing. We're all kind of evil, and your mother especially is." And it was a trait that Bickslow was sure that Layla had gotten from her grandfather, one that he had of course passed on to all three of his children. "But anyway. You, little miss Layla, need to go to bed now."

She yawned and nodded, even when she knew she was too excited about being able to open her presents in the morning to get any sleep anyway. But she'd try, just because she didn't want to get in trouble for being out of bed. "Goodnight, Uncle Bicksy."

"Goodnight, Layla," Bickslow said softly. "Merry Christmas."

And then Bickslow was pulling the door closed gently behind himself and quietly ducking down the stairs again, only to find Lucy still curled up on the lounge with her hot chocolate and with a smile she had no intentions of losing any time soon.

But it really was impossible not to smile. She loved watching Bickslow with his niece and nephews – especially with Layla – because he was just so wonderful with them. She couldn't wait to see Bickslow with their own children (well, she really could wait, just because she most definitely did not want a kid at that exact moment), just because Lucy knew she'd love seeing him with them. She was just a little convinced that Bickslow was so good with his niece and nephews just because he was still a bit of a kid at heart, but that was some Lucy loved way too much.

"You know," she began with a whisper as she laid her legs back out across his lap once he sat back down. "I think I chose the right guy."

He raised an eyebrow at the blonde next to him. "Are you only just realising this?" Bickslow chuckled.

"No…" No, Lucy had realised how perfect Bickslow was around that time two years earlier. "I just felt like saying it." She shrugged.

"Uh-huh. And, uh, why is that?"

Lucy shrugged again before sipping on her drink again. "No reason in particular," she giggled. Bickslow didn't exactly need to know that she'd just been daydreaming a little about what he'd be like with their kids.

"Right…" he mumbled. "But anyway, since I believe it's technically now Christmas, being after midnight and all…" Bickslow picked up the small wrapped box he'd collected from under the tree before sitting back down and handing it to Lucy. "Open this one now."

She passed her mug to the Seith mage to take the small box in her hands. "Why do you want me to open one of my presents now?"

"No reason in particular," he said, only to get gently shoved by Lucy for using her own words. "Okay, but really, there's no reason. You don't have to open it now if you really don't want to. But I just thought since we're both up you'd want to…"

"Well, I suppose that's fair enough."

So Lucy looked back down to the box in her hands. It was small, fitting easily in the palm of her hand, so she knew it was jewellery of some sort (and even if it hadn't been so small, she probably would've assumed it was jewellery anyway because Bickslow had yet to fail to give her some piece of jewellery for any event or holiday), which meant when she did pull off the wrapping paper, she wasn't the least bit surprised to find a black ring box under it. In it though, was just a simple ring with a small pear shaped amethyst set in the centre of the thin silver band.

"Bicks, it's so pretty. I love it so much," she whispered, quickly leaning forward to wrap an arm around his shoulders and softly press her lips to his. "But you really need to stop buying me jewellery, you know."

"I know… I just… I'm horrible at buying presents. And I didn't even mean to buy you that. I was looking for something else and then I just couldn't help myself 'cause I thought it was really nice, and I just had to get you that too."

She slipped the ring onto her right hand and smiled to herself when she found it fit perfectly; she was sure Bickslow had some kind of talent or something for it. "Well, thank you, because it really is lovely. But still, you spend way too much money on me."

"I won't deny it." But if she thought him buying her jewellery was too much, he was beginning to worry a whole lot more about how she'd react to the biggest of her Christmas presents for that year.

When Bickslow was woken up first thing the next morning by having a pillow thrown at his head, he wasn't quite sure whether he should be annoyed or telling himself that he should get used to it. Or maybe it was both.

He was just not a morning person in the slightest, and even if he probably should get used to it at some point since he was sure his own kids would be up at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning once they were old enough to be running in to wake him up, Bickslow really wasn't all that fond of being woken up at all. He was warm, and it had been closer to two by the time they'd gone back to bed, so all he wanted to do was sleep.

His nephews and nieces apparently thought otherwise.

And when he had yet another pillow thrown at him, followed by some childlike giggling, he only groaned and pulled the sheets up over his head. "Quit attacking me, you monsters," he mumbled. And where was Lucy to defend him, huh? The other side of the bed was unusually empty. It wouldn't surprise him if Lucy had told his niblings to go and wake him up.

"But you gotta get up," one of his nephews whined – Jasper, Bickslow assumed, since Jasper was the more talkative of the two.

"Soon."

"Mummy said," Damian insisted.

He felt a weight on the edge of the bed behind him and then two small hands shoving his shoulder. "Mama and Papa said no presents till everyone awake," Layla explained. Why her uncle needed to be awake so she could open her presents along with her cousins, she had no idea. But the silly adults had insisted that everyone had to be awake before anyone could open any of their presents, and everyone but Bickslow was awake and that just wasn't good enough. "Please, Uncle Bicks," she pleaded, shoving him again. "We wanna open presents."

Bickslow sighed into the pillow. How could he say no to that? It was probably a good thing he'd been hiding under the covers, because Bickslow was sure he would've caved had he seen the looks they were no doubt giving him. Four and six-year-olds were masters of the puppy face. That much he'd already learned.

"Fine, fine," he sighed, pushing the covers back down. "I'm getting up." Although why he needed to get up so they could open their presents, he had no idea. But he couldn't resist his precious niblings.

And to a chorus of excited cheers (because yay! Uncle Bickslow was awake and it was present time!), he pulled himself out of bed and followed the horrible, horrible children down the stairs and into the living room where everyone was apparently waiting for him.

"Look who decided to join the land of the living," Sara quipped from the edge of the lounge.

"Ha-ha. Very funny," Bickslow mumbled in reply. A peek at the clock sitting on one of the end tables only had him sighing as he went to sit down next to Lucy on the floor. Six freaking o'clock. Who the hell is up and about at six in the morning?! Bickslow only wondered what time the twins had woken Sara and Rory up for them to already be there, all dressed in their cringe-worthy matching Christmas sweaters. God, he hadn't missed those in the slightest. "Nice jumpers."

The husbands – his brothers-in-law, Bickslow supposed – merely shook their heads as their respective wives looked a little too gleeful for the time of morning. Saskia was especially happy, but it was really just because she was looking forward to seeing Bickslow's face when he opened the first of his presents. Saskia was proud of how the most recent sweaters she'd knitted had turned out. She hadn't taken it up until after she'd gotten married, surprisingly, and then when she'd had Layla, she had just wanted to bring back their old tradition of having matching Christmas sweaters, and she'd learned how to knit jumpers.

And now everyone had an ugly Christmas sweater.

"Why thank you, Pixie." Then, when she saw how restless the children were – Layla was unable to sit still at all, while the twins were mostly too busy hitting each other – Saskia rolled her eyes and sighed, "Okay, fine. You can open your presents now."

And before long, the living room floor was covered in torn wrapping paper and all of the presents were opened. Xander had gone to get breakfast started at some point, and it wasn't long before Rory had gone to help. Sara was getting told off by Damian and Jasper for helping them open one of their boxes so they could already get started building a tower of some description, and as Layla was too busy playing with her new dollhouse (courtesy of Bickslow. It even came with its own set of miniature totems because she'd supposedly complained that her cousins got some but she didn't), Saskia was wondering just where to begin with cleaning up the mess. Even Bickslow was already flicking through one of his own presents, a cookbook – Man Meets Stove – that Lucy hadn't been able to stop herself from buying.

But Lucy just sat there, mostly just watching and trying to ignore how itchy the green sweater with the white tree and a red 'A' in the centre of it actually was, because she didn't really know what she was to do with herself. It had been far too long since she'd had a proper family Christmas that she'd forgotten what it was really like. It wasn't the same as it was with the guild or her team – or even just Bickslow – and it wasn't like how it had been when she'd been younger and her mother had still been alive. It was better.

With Bickslow and his family, the one that she was already an honorary member of, it was better. It was nicer. And the sense of happiness and joy she got from being a part of that only had Lucy telling herself that she could really get used to all of it, because between the guild and the wonderful people in front of her, she really didn't think she needed anything else in the world to be happy.