Disclaimer: Still not mine... though one day Mr Wolf and I may come to some arrangement.
This is short and sweet but just something for the festive season...enjoy...
I SAW MOMMY KISSING SANTA CLAUS
I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus
Underneath the mistletoe last night.
She didn't see me creep
Down the stairs to have a peep;
She thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom
Then, I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus
Underneath his beard so snowy white;
Oh, what a laugh it would have been
If Daddy had only seen
Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night.
It was late on Christmas Eve when Elliot shrugged off his snow-dusted overcoat and hung it on the coat rack in the hallway of his new home. He kicked off his sodden boots before throwing his keys and cell onto the hall table. A quick glance at the clock told him Christmas Day was only minutes away and he grinned to himself, happy to be in before midnight.
Walking through the living room, Elliot tripped over a discarded toy in the dark. Usually he'd mutter some profanity but it was Christmas and he'd promised his wife he wouldn't swear … well, swear as much. Instead, he made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a whisky, needing the liquid to take the chill out of him – it succeeded.
As per the instructions he'd had explained to him numerous times by his wife and elder children, Elliot made his way to the study and pulled on the Santa outfit that had been laid out for him. After shoving in the pillow for girth and readjusting his beard several times, he checked out his appearance in the mirror and grinned. Christmas was always special to him, but more so when the kids still believed in good old St Nick.
Opening the closet he grabbed the bright red sack filled with presents for the two children sleeping upstairs and slung it over his shoulder. He groaned at the weight. It wasn't possible his youngest children could need anything, they were well and truly spoilt by their siblings and his colleagues, still it was Christmas and they deserved anything their hearts desired.
He climbed the stairs, making a little noise in the hope his kids would stir but not wake fully. He opened the first door and made his way to the bright pink Christmas sack and filled it quickly, humming Jingle Bells as he went.
"Santa?!" came a hushed exclamation from under the covers.
"Yes, it's Santa," he replied. "Shh, we don't want anyone to know I'm here," he added, leaving the last of the presents.
"There are a lot of presents," said the young girl, her eyes shining brightly.
"Well, you've been very good this year, haven't you?" Elliot asked.
"Oh yes, Santa, very good!" she agreed vigorously.
"Goodnight, sweetheart, sleep well," he said, heading towards the door.
"Goodnight, Santa," she called after him. "And thank you!"
Elliot couldn't help but smile, his youngest daughter was by far the sweetest of all.
He made his way to his son's room. "Ho, ho, ho!" he announced coming through the door. Being a Stabler man, he did as his father did and just mumbled before rolling over and falling back into a deep sleep. Elliot tried to get his attention but it was to no avail and he simply smiled and filled the blue Christmas sack which had been left on the floor.
Making his way back downstairs, Elliot turned on the lamp in the living room and started pulling out the last of the brightly wrapped packages. After he'd arranged them neatly under the tree, something which had impressed even himself, he stood back admiring his work. Suddenly, he was caught off guard by a hand snaking its way around his expanded stomach.
"Hello Santa!" Olivia cooed seductively. "What have you got for me?"
"Anything you want, baby," he replied, turning to her and wrapping her in a warm embrace. "Anything you want!"
"Well, I've been very good all year," she said almost shyly, "so I think I deserve everything in the sack."
"I can so arrange that…" he grinned, pulling her closer and kissing her thoroughly.
"Why, Santa!" Olivia exclaimed breathlessly when she pulled back. "Do you know what that does to me?"
"I have a fair idea," he growled, moving in to nibble on her lobe. She giggled as the bushy white beard scratched her face.
"Can't say I'm a fan of this," she said, tugging gently at the beard.
"I can take it off for you," he cooed, brushing her hair back from her face.
"Oh, in that case, I don't like this…this … this," she said, pointing to other items adorning his body. "And I definitely don't like those…" she said firmly, pointing to the bright red pants.
"Oh, believe me, they're coming off as soon as possible," he grinned.
Olivia moved to turn off the lamp when Elliot pulled her back to him.
"I think you'll find we have an audience," he whispered, nodding slightly towards the steps. Slyly, Olivia glanced over to find their six-year-old daughter, Emily, watching the scene below with great curiosity.
"Oops," she whispered. "I think we've been sprung."
"I think so too," he replied. "How do you want to deal with this?"
"Well, with any luck she'll be back asleep very soon and think this was all a dream," Olivia whispered.
"Hope so," Elliot said, squeezing her hand.
Olivia pulled away from him.
"Well, goodnight Santa," she said loudly. "Thank you for coming here. I'm off to bed now." She grinned as she heard little feet scurrying back along the landing.
"And I'm coming with you," he cooed, pulling her back for another long kiss.
"Wow!" she said, as they broke apart. "I'd say leave the suit on but if Em or Tom see you coming into our bedroom in it, I think we'll be in big trouble."
"True," he conceded. "You go up and I'll be there as soon as possible," he instructed as he gently pushed her to the stairwell.
When he ascended the stairs, he found Olivia standing outside Tom's bedroom, her head leaning on the slightly opened door and a smile he couldn't describe.
"Hey," he whispered. "What's going on?"
"Just listen," she replied, pulling him closer to her and running her hand up his back and under his opened shirt.
"I did see him, Tom, I did," Emily insisted, bouncing on her older brother's bed.
"Em, you were dreaming, go back to bed," he grumbled, trying to push her off.
"No, I wasn't. Santa came into my room and left my presents and then he was downstairs and mommy was kissing him … just like she kisses daddy," she pressed.
"Emily, mommy wouldn't kiss anyone like she kisses daddy …" he sighed. Even at eight he knew his parents had a special kind of love.
"But she did … and she was playing with his beard," Emily continued, trying to convince him, but it wasn't working.
"Em…I'm tired. Just go to sleep, would you?" he pleaded wearily.
"Only if you say I'm right…" she bargained. Elliot grinned; she was certainly her mother's daughter.
"Okay, you're right… mommy was kissing Santa Claus, now go to sleep," he sighed, snuggling deeper under the covers.
"Okay," Emily grinned, happy with her win. Instead of going back to her own room she climbed in with her brother.
"What are you doing?" he grumbled, only managing to open one eye.
"Sleeping here, your bed's warmer than mine," she sighed, snuggling deeper into the warmth.
"Fine," he conceded. "Just don't hog all the blankets." Elliot chuckled, definitely her mother's daughter.
After a few minutes, Elliot and Olivia moved quietly into the room and kissed them both good night before heading to their own room.
"I think you're in trouble, Liv," Elliot said stripping down to his boxers before slipping between the sheets.
"Is that a promise?" Olivia grinned, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, it is … but I meant in relation to our daughter …she's going to tell on you tomorrow," he said, pulling back the covers for her.
"I'm sure she is," she replied, knowing their daughter was going through a tattle-tale stage. "But we'll deal with that tomorrow… there are more pressing things right now."
Olivia climbed onto him and framed his face with her hands.
"As I was saying downstairs …" she began. "I've been very good all year …"
"Oh, you have … most definitely …" he agreed, his hands massaging her curves.
"And I think I deserve a present," she cooed as her lips trailed down his face to his neck.
"And what would you like?" he asked as he rolled her over on the bed.
"That," she whispered, thrusting up gently and into his growing interest in the situation.
"Merry Christmas, baby," he whispered as his lips claimed hers once more.
"Merry Christmas, El," she mumbled into his mouth.
It was a Merry Christmas indeed.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you and yours.