15

The house was dark when they exited the bedroom just before dawn.

Rhys led Andy into the kitchen. There was a low light on under one of the counters. Andy guessed that would be enough for a stranger like him to find the refrigerator in the night if he wanted to. The room smelled of pie spices and coffee.

Rhys whispered, "I skipped desert. Want some pie?"

Andy smiled helplessly. "Sure. Why not."

Rhys found the pumpkin pie under cover on the counter, and served them both healthy slices. He slid the silverware drawer open, slowly and silently, and passed Andy a fork. They both dug in happily. Andy mumbled around a big mouthful, "If your Mum ever wanted to open a bakery, she'd make a fortune on just this."

"Good, huh?"

"D'you think she baked those cinnamon cookies too, like she used to?"

"I think she baked everything that would fit in the oven, once she heard you were coming." Rhys paused, glanced at him, then took another big, deliberate bite.

"I guess." Andy finished his pie and set the plate in the dishwasher. The silverware clinked a little as he shut it, and he winced, listening. But there was no sound from above.

Rhys said softly, "Come on. Tree and kisses."

He led the way into the living room. Andy had loved this room from the first time Rhys had brought him home. It was open, with a vaulted ceiling, and yet the polished wood and the soft rugs and big overstuffed furniture made it feel warm. And of course there was the tree. Andy had had a love affair with Christmas trees ever since he was a boy.

They'd rarely had one, growing up. Dad said their rooms were usually too small and they moved too often to keep ornaments around and pines made him sneeze, well, so the story went. Andy had to get his tree fix elsewhere. He really loved this tree.

The ornaments glittered, blue and silver balls almost obscured by the wild and wonderful mismatched. If Andy squinted, they dissolved into starbursts of shimmer, coating the tree in light.

Rhys went over and touched things, a bell here, a wooden star painted gold there. Andy watched him, against the backdrop of his childhood, and felt a touch of envy. "Come on, let's sit down."

"Will it get me a kiss?" Rhys asked. They sat side by side on the big couch, looking at the tree.

"Yes." Andy sighed.

"Now?" Rhys asked, turning toward him. Andy leaned in and kissed him gently. The lights glinted in the glass of the pictures on the mantelpiece behind him. The scent of the balsam and the soft smoke of the fire, smoldering to embers, were familiar.

"Five years," he murmured against Rhys's mouth. "I'm so glad Anwen was crying about wanting a Papa under that Christmas tree."

"Me too." They kissed softly, then harder. Andy cupped the back of Rhys's head. Rhys turned to him, and knocked a book off the coffee table with a soft thud. For a second they froze, but there was no sound from upstairs.

Rhys chuckled and nipped at his lower lip.

And a deep voice from the stair said loudly, "What the hell?"

Andy jumped up in front of Rhys, turning to the voice. While Andy was deciding what to say, and Rhys was disentangling himself from the couch, Beryl came hurrying down the stairs, a robe wrapped around her.

"Rhys is there a problem? Oh!" She saw Andy and stopped short.

Andy sighed. "Merry Christmas, Beryl."

Rhys moved up beside Andy. "Hey, Mum, sorry if we woke you."

"I thought I heard Anwen shout."

"Sorry I woke you, ma'am, really. I didn't think anyone was going to hear us talking. I knew where you all were, and I hadn't heard anyone on the stairs and... um, it's a side effect of Heddlu duty. Noises I'm not expecting make me jumpy. I scared meself heading to the loo with the mirror in the hallway."

"Crap." Andy looked far more upset than that warranted. "Shit. I am so, so sorry."

"Hey, not your fault." She smiled. "Really, we're good now, right?"

"It totally sucks that you two thought you had to hide because of me. You know we all think you make a nice couple."

"It's not that big a deal." Andy shrugged.

"Yeah, it kind of is." Rhys took a deep breath. "I am divorcing her and…. Gonna be with Andy. Like… you know… together."

"Relax," Andy said. "We have plenty of time. We'll start Christmas morning over."

"I guess." Beryl sat on the edge of an armchair. "So. You two are serious together, right?"

"Yes Mum… yes. As serious as a heart attack!" Rhys said firmly "I… I love him."

Any grinned like a madman as he clung to him and agree that he did too.

"Papa?"

Andy turned to grin as the little girl standing the doorway half asleep… the one who had started this madness, placing a large rosette on his head "Tadahhhhhh!"

Anwen laughed as she ran to him, letting him lift her to his hip "Good morning sweetheart. Wanna open your gifts?"

She snatched the rosette off his head and said happily "I just did Papa."

And as Rhys leaned in to kiss him it all felt as right as rain.

Finally.

Father Christmas had granted her wish.

She had a Papa for Christmas.

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Thanks for reading you dirty dirty dogs you… sez the one who wrote this LOL