" Come on Pookie, don't be such a baby." Carol had managed to coax Daryl into a Santa costume, for the Woodbury kids, but now he wasn't going for it at all. She sighed, and tried again. " I'll give you intense head tonight?" He twitched, but didn't move from his spot in front of the mirror. " And tomorrow morning?" This brought a flicker of a smile to his lips, but no movement. " I'll give you head for a week!"

Finally, as if doing her a great service, he moved to her, wrapping his arms around her hips and pulling her in for a deep, loving kiss. " A'ight, a'ight, bu' i's gotta be the whole damn week, nah just a day. I'll even give ya a li'l some'in in return." He smirked at her, that little half a smile he saved just for her. It always gave her butterflies.

" Such a saint!" She said in an awed tone, covering her mouth as if in reverence. She wore her own Mrs. Clause costume, her tummy a bit thicker, breasts a bit larger. She wore a long gray wig and cookie perfume. Daryl had a pillow tucked into his shirt, so he gave off the fat, jolly appeal.

" This beard itches like a bitch." He whined, pulling it down to scratch at his face. " Worse cause it's rubbing on my real one." The hunter didn't seem to like this, as he adjusted the fake, itchy, swollen beard on his face. Carol rolled her eyes and just took his hand, leading him out into the main room.

Merle had an arm tight around Maggie, below her baby bump, and they were whispering together on the couch, her new puppy settled on her baby bump, happily licking her face.

Carol's puppy was sleeping in a basket in their room. They'd fed him with a bottle and he was now resting. It was just down the hall, Carol'd hear it if he cried, he was Carol's new best friend, and Daryl was pretty damn smug at the idea.

" Whatcha gonna name him?" Daryl asked, holding out the little runty pup, which was wiggling around for some attention. Carol paused, but took him from Daryl and hugged him to her chest, eyes wet around the edges.

" Tufts. Tufts McGee." She smiled, letting him lick her jaw and neck, nuzzling his furry head. " Did you bring me something I can feed him?" Carol hadn't taken her eyes from the little dog nestled in her arms.

" What the hell kind of a name is that?! Here." He murmured, handing her a bottle. He hoped puppies could deal with human formula. With a smile, she guided the nipple into Tufts's mouth and nudged it. After a few moment he began suckling, drinking eagerly.

" He already eats like his daddy." She chuckled at Daryl, the puppy already having gone through a fourth of the bottle.

" Fuck no, I ain't that runt's pa. First ya name him Tufts an now I'm his daddy. The fuck?" Daryl shook his head, but his voice was kind and gentle.

" Santa!" The word rang through out the room, voices full of wonder and joy. Daryl remembered why he was doing this now. Because these kids had been through Hell, they needed some good, something hopeful and innocent to hold onto.

" Ho Ho Ho!" ' ya little fuckers' He added mentally, settling himself onto the big, soft, thrown chair he and Merle had made the pain in the added trip for. It was worth it though and they hadn't had to go far, really.

" Come on kids, line up." Carol murmured in a falsetto voice, offering all the children warm smiles. " Santa is a very busy man and has lots of places to stop." The elder kids like Carl and Patrick stood in the corner, snickering to themselves at the sight of the smaller children. Though, they did enjoy the game.

" What's your name little one?" The line passed Daryl's lips so many times it became tedious and annoying. But he listened to each request and found the present with the proper kid's name on it. Carol was passing out cookies and milk, they used a lot of tedious resources for this holiday, but the adults felt the need to make it special.

Finally he was down to just a few presents, for the older children. He smirked at Carl from behind the beard and gave his lap a pat, intending to embarrass the fuck out of the little shit.

" Come sit on Santa's lap Carl, he's got ya a special present this year." He offered the teen the wrapped gift, but refused to let him have it until he sat in Daryl's lap. Carl was furious, but everyone else was laughing. " Here you go."

" Thanks Santa," He murmured, making sure to give Daryl a little nut tap with his elbow as he stood up. The elder man cursed, quietly. Carl chuckled, but opened the gift, his eyes widening. It was a very, very nice hunting knife. The handle was a dragon, clutching a diamond in it's jaws, the blade wickedly sharp and as long as his forearm. " Jesus, thank you." He tucked it back into the holster and clipped it to his belt.

" Sure thing Carl." Daryl finished handing out gifts to the elder kids and was standing up when a yell sounded out in the room.

" Wait! Wait!" A voice called, a young one. A girl of about twelve came running with a little boy, his head covered in a mop of brown hair. " You forgot Nico!"

" Nico?" Carl asked, looking confused himself. That was a relief. At least Daryl hadn't been the only one who had no idea who the little kid was.

" They found him the day before last, in a house about two miles from here, the walkers got daddy, momma wasn't there, he was near dead, the doc had to look in on him. Says he's okay now." The girl finally got close enough, holding the little boy out to Daryl. He had a pale, chubby face, slightly sunken in eyes and a sickly tone to his skin.

Shit. They didn't have any more presents. Rick hadn't gotten anymore on the trip into town. They didn't have time to get extra ones. Daryl swallowed, looking at the toddler. He had blue eyes startling like Carol's.

" Hey there little man, what do you want for Christmas?" Daryl's voice wavered and when he turned to Carol her eyes were huge and doey. Shit. He glanced to the little boy again. He didn't want to have to ruin the kid's Christmas. Hell, he'd go on a run into town to find the little boy something.

" Mommy and daddy." And with that the little boy was sobbing into Daryl's chest, his high, frail voice raising in pitch till he was absolutely wailing.

Daryl's face paled as he worked to rock the boy in his arms. He handed him off to Carol, feeling terrible. The poor kid, what would they do?