I wrote this for darkblueyank as part of the MM secret Santa, organised by the wonderful Patsan.

Merry Christmas

She heard their voices in the darkness and with her eyes still closed, she smiled softly. Mary had woken as soon as her husband's warm body moved from her own to turn and greet their 4 year old son as he climbed up onto their bed. Now, she lay still, listening to their hushed and excited voices.

"Papa, did I remember? Is it Christmas now?" George rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes, sitting astride his father's stomach.

Matthew smiled tenderly, reaching forward to push his son's hair away from his forehead, "Yes, George. You remembered well. Merry Christmas."

"Shhh!" George reached forward and placed 3 fingers over his father's mouth, "Mama is sleeping".

Matthew gently removed George's hand from his face. "Maybe we should wake her, so that we can go down and see what gifts have been left under the tree for you." Matthew's voice was low, following his son's instruction to be quiet.

George's small features creased into a frown. "But the baby makes her extra, extra tired."

"Still," Matthew nodded, with a proud smile, "I think we had better wake her. She'd be terribly upset if she missed out on the excitement."

George turned his head briefly, looking across the bed towards Mary, who had her back facing the pair. He then turned back, looking down at Matthew with one eyebrow perfectly raised. Matthew couldn't help but laugh. George had perfected the expression, that reminded him so much of his wife, at the age of 2. Nether-the-less, it never failed to amuse him; especially when performed so incredibly in context. "You don't think she'll be excited?"

"Will she? Mama doesn't really get excited."

Matthew was about to reply to his son, when Mary answered for him "your Mama certainly does get excited."

George's eyes widened quickly and he looked across at his mother and then back at his father "she's awake!"

"I'm awake" Mary turned and shuffled closer to them. Matthew wrapped an arm around her and she rested her head upon his shoulder. "Matthew, please tell your son that his Mama is not a complete bore."

Matthew chuckled, dropping an affectionate kiss into her hair. "George, your Mama gets excited, just as we do. She's just much better at hiding it."

George shuffled closer on Matthew's stomach, gently touching his mother's arm "have you had enough sleep Mama?"

"Oh, my sweet Darling" Mary sighed. It was times like these she wondered how on earth a son that belonged to her (even one who was half Matthew), could be so kind and thoughtful. "I'm feeling quite wonderful after waking up to my two boys. Now, do you have a Christmas kiss for your Mama?"

George nodded eagerly before reaching down and gently pecking his mother's lips. Mary lifted a hand and smoothed down his blonde hair affectionally. "Merry Christmas, George."

George smiled "Merry Christmas, Mama." He placed his small hand on her rounded stomach, "Merry Christmas, baby" he patted her stomach lightly before sitting up straight and looking down at his father with excitement, "please may we go down now?"

"I don't see why not." Matthew lifted George off of his stomach, helping him down onto the floor, while Mary slipped out of bed to put on her robe.

George could barely stand still; hopping from one foot to the other, unable to contain his excitement. This year, his Papa had helped him to write a letter to say what he would like for Christmas; George instructed Matthew what to write down and then Matthew taught his young son how to form his name correctly. George could hardly wait to see if the items on his list were waiting for him under the tree. His excitement grew when he saw his father tie his dressing gown and push his feet into his slippers.

"Now, wait just one moment" Mary instructed, holding her hand up to halt the pair of them. "Don't you think we are forgetting something?"

George looked up first at his Papa, then his Mama, before shrugging his shoulders.

"Or rather, someone" Mary clarified. "Was your sister still sleeping when you left the nursery?"

George nodded, "I made sure I was quiet."

"Maybe we should let her sleep, Mary." Matthew suggested, "She won't know much of what's going on anyway."

"That may be the case, but she is 19 months; not much younger than George was the year you started this little tradition of going down before the rest of the family. Besides you're only scared of waking Nanny if we go in to get her."

Matthew visibly cringed and Mary laughed. It was no secret that Matthew was more than a little scared when it came to Nanny's strict rules with regards to the children's routine.

"Nanny is asleep too" George offered, hoping that his parents would allow him downstairs soon.

Matthew simply looked at Mary; his eyes a little wider than normal. Mary laughed again. "I'll fetch sleeping beauty and meet you by the tree." George clapped his hands, jumping up and down a few times. "But no peeking at the presents!" She pointed her finger at each of them, in turn, to emphasis her point.

The halls were still quite dark as Mary quietly walked towards the nursery. George had left the door half open and she gently pushed it open a little more; careful not to make a noise and wake Nanny. While she wasn't scared of her, like Matthew, she would rather not enter a debate about the way in which her young family would create their own traditions on Christmas morning; no matter what is considered proper.

Luckily, Nanny was still sleeping in her bed in the corner of the room. Mary took a few moments to watch her daughter sleeping. Last Christmas, she was so young and had been quite unwell; which had kept Mary away from her husband and son for most of Christmas Day in order to look after her. Mary had sobbed into the little girl's hair as she sat with her, curled against her, in bed. Cora had cautiously entered a little after breakfast and encouraged her to leave the baby in Nanny's care, but Mary refused. While it pained her to miss seeing George's face as he opened his presents and enjoy the festivities, she couldn't bring herself to leave her; especially on Christmas, especially when she was ill. Isobel had knocked on the bedroom door a little while later and offered to care for her granddaughter while Mary spent some time with the rest of her family. At the time, the little rosy cheeked girl was asleep, and because of this, she agreed. However, once Anna had helped her into her clothes and she'd joined the family, it wasn't long before Isobel appeared in the doorway with a distressed 7 month old, needing her mother.

Mary sighed, reaching down into her daughter's cot and carefully lifting her into her arms. Florence didn't like to be woken suddenly and Mary was careful not to do so; knowing that if she did, Nanny would surely be woken by pitiful cries. With Florence curled against her, Mary quickly grabbed dressing gowns for both of her children from the hook behind the door and quietly pulled the door closed behind her.

In her mother's arms, Florence slowly started to wake. She nuzzled her face into Mary's neck and stretched out her legs a little. "Good morning my darling" Mary cooed gently into Florence's ear. "Merry Christmas".

"Mama" Florence's voice was laced with sleep. The little girl pushed her fingers into Mary's long hair and began to twirl it through her fingers. She lifted her head from her mother's shoulder and smiled a beautiful, sweet smile.

Mary bent at the knees, placing the little girl on the floor to put her arms through the dressing gown and tie it around her. She hooked George's over her arm and ran her fingers gently through her daughter's wild mass of sandy blonde curls. "Would you like to see the pretty tree?"

Florence nodded and repeated "tree".

Mary dropped a quick kiss on her daughter's forehead before picking her up and making her way towards the stairs. "Papa and George are waiting for us by the tree. I can't wait for you to open your gifts." As she descended the stairs, Florence lay her head back onto her shoulder and Mary, yet again, felt the familiar tug of a small hand in her hair.

"Mama!" George called, as they approached.

Matthew, who was sat on the floor by the tree, smiled up at his wife and daughter. "Someone was getting a little impatient."

Mary smiled back, "I can quite believe it."

George pulled on his Mama's hand, tugging her to where he and Papa had been sat. "Look!" He pointed at all the beautifully wrapped gifts under the tree, that seemed to have appeared overnight.

Florence wriggled to get down and toddled towards her Papa once she was released. "Tree" she pointed.

"Yes, Christmas tree" Matthew praised.

Florence inspected the tree a little more closely, reaching out to touch a branch. After a few seconds, she smiled, "kiss-mas tree".

George laughed, escaping his Mama's grasp after she finally finished helping him into his dressing gown, "it's a Christmas tree, Flory. Not a kissing tree!"

"George, you know she's still learning" Matthew reminded him gently, lifting Florence onto his lap and placing a kiss on her plump cheek.

"Kiss-mas tree is funny!" George giggled.

Mary slowly lowered herself onto the floor beside her husband and daughter and Matthew looked on with concern, "are you ok on the floor? I can bring a chair over."

Mary touched his hand gently, grateful for his ever present concern for her and their unborn child. "I'm fine" and truthfully, she was. She was only in her fourth month of the pregnancy and this was her favourite time. The nausea was almost forgotten and she was still able to do most things.

Matthew asked George if he could find any presents that had his name on, and when George selected a gift with his name written on the tag, Matthew praised him for recognising his name. Florence climbed onto her mother's lap and watched curiously as her big brother ripped open the paper. "Book!" She pointed once the gift was revealed and George enthusiastically passed the book to his father.

"Can I read it?" he asked.

"I can help you" Matthew nodded.

"George, there's quite a large present over there" she pointed to the other side of the tree, "I think it might have your name on it". She grinned as her son rushed around the side of the tree, trying to tug the present back to his parents for inspection.

Matthew quickly stood, "hold on there. You might pull it over. Try ripping the paper off first to see what it is." Matthew turned to look back at his smiling wife and gave her a wink.

Mary watched George rip the paper away quickly, her smile growing wider as she noticed the exciting realisation of what the gift might be appear on the young boy's face; the item on the top of his wish list.

"A bicycle!" George exclaimed. "With a bell!" He rang the bell twice.

"Do you like it?" Mary asked from her position on the floor.

"I like it this much!" He held his arms out as far as they would reach.

Mary laughed lightly, "your Papa and I will take you out later so you can ride it."

"I found a large present for Florence too" Matthew announced, reaching his hand out towards his daughter. Mary lifted the little girl so that she would stand and walk towards him. She watched Matthew with their children; she watched him help Florence tear the paper away from the wooden rocking horse; she watched him lift her onto it and share a smile as the toddler began to rock; she watched him praise their son, yet again, for recognising his name on a gift tag; she watched as George tore through the paper eagerly and was thankful for each and every present he received, and her heart felt completely full.

This Christmas morning tradition of theirs started only two Christmases ago. Their first Christmas as a family hardly felt like Christmas at all. George had only been 3 months old at the time, and because Mary had controversially chosen to nurse him herself, much of their time was spent in the nursery, as it was most days, during those first few months. Mary and Matthew had exchanged gifts with the rest of the family at luncheon, but Mary soon made her excuses to check on their son; not content in leaving him with the Nanny for long periods of time.

Their second christmas as a family was much more traditional. In fact, they followed every rule ever taught to Mary. Mary had taken her breakfast in bed and George had spent most of his hours in the nursery with Nanny. It was mid-morning when Mary and Matthew watched little George being carried away for his nap, after only an hour with him, that Matthew murmured "I hate this" into her ear. Mary had sighed a large sigh of relief and took his hand in hers, "me too" she had replied. That night, in bed, they agreed that from then on, they would decide their own rules as to how much George's routine could be disturbed on special days, such as Christmases and birthdays.

On their third Christmas as a family, Mary was pregnant with Florence and it was Matthew who rose early, remembering their promise from the year before. He returned to their bedroom, carrying a 2 year old George and gently coaxed Mary awake. That morning, the 3 of them cuddled in bed for a while, before creeping down the stairs; hoping that no others were awake. They managed to help George open his gifts before Nanny came looking for her charge, along with Cora who had been informed that the 3 of them had already begun Christmas. That morning, it was Matthew who stood up and insisted that he and Mary would decide how George would be raised and that they were more than entitled to make their own decisions on how they want to spend Christmas as a family. In the end, it was Mary who raised her voice when Nanny and her Mother insisted they follow the usual routine and it was Mary who allowed George to sit on her knee at the breakfast table, completely ignoring the raised eyebrows from her father.

In the afternoon of their third Christmas, the three of them took a walk in the snow until Robert, obviously sent by Cora, summoned them inside. Mary had opened her mouth to argue back, until she felt Matthew's hand on her elbow, informing Robert that the three of them would be inside shortly; after all, it was dreadfully cold and neither of them wanted George to become ill.

It was their fourth christmas that Mary had spent miserable; torn between sharing the special day with her boys and caring for a poorly Florence. She'd started the morning angry at Matthew when he'd taken George to open his presents without her. In Matthew's defence, he could see how exhausted she was and knew there was no way that she would leave their daughter, who had spend most of the night in their bed, in the nursery alone with the nanny when she was poorly; on Christmas of all days.

And now; on the morning of their fifth family Christmas, Mary felt as though they'd finally perfected their own tradition. She continued to watch her family, as her hand settled on her stomach and their third baby. She grinned a silly blissful grin as Matthew tried to convince Florence to get off the rocking horse and open the rest of her presents. He looked over at his wife with an exasperated sigh and she laughed happily. "Should have left the rocking horse until last. Honestly, Mathew, sometimes you're just a big child yourself."

Matthew returned her smile and made his way across the sea of discarded paper to sit beside Mary. He wrapped an arm around her and they shared a lingering kiss before she leant against him and together, they watched their children enjoy the perfect Christmas morning.

It was almost an hour later when the remaining family members began to make their way down; fully dressed and ready for breakfast. None of them said a word about the couple who sat by the Christmas tree, still dressed in their nightwear, watching their children play; they knew better than that.