A/N: Christmas is almost over, so this is the last letter to Santa. I know many of you are not BANG fans, but I can't hide my love for BANG. OOC or not, Merry Christmas!
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Dear Santa,
Joe, the bartender, is asking everyone to write a letter to you. I reminded him that Christmas is nearly over and Santa is busy squeezing through real chimneys and trying not to land on the wrong place. Anyway, Joe seems to have heard from Cristina that I love to write, so I am both happy and obliged to scribble a few lines.
I have very fond memories of writing to you as a child. It's an excellent way to practice writing. According to my mama, my writing was already error-free by first grade. Although Cristina will mock at me for believing in Santa (which is, unfortunately, not true), I will certainly teach our children to write to you in the future.
Our children. If Cristina sees this, she will probably pout. Mr. Santa, I am not trying to tell on her—She's not the happiest child and she cried a couple of times this year, always because of me; but she has been very good. In fact, I believe you ought to reserve a special prize for her!
A few months ago, I thought we're over. There are details I don't want to bore you with. The fact that I've regained control over my fine motor skills and confidence in our budding relationship is the finest Christmas gift for us both.
Whenever I start writing, I have trouble learning when to stop. This time it's different. I need to take this sleepy head home. She won't be too thrilled to know that Derek and everyone else who came to Joe's Bar tonight saw her drunk and gripping the collar of my coat like a little girl hanging onto her teddy bear. See, pouting or grinning, the delicate features on Cristina's face always make me smile.
Take care, Santa. The children are all eagerly waiting for you.
Affectionately yours,
Preston Burke
p.s. If I must ask for one thing, it would be the chance to spend Christmas with Cristina hand in hand till we can't wiggle our fingers anymore.