So, here are some seasonal shorts. They don't fit into the canonical timeline of the stories, and are just meant as a bit of fun. They're following the characters from my urban fantasy stories, set in the magickal underworld (I haven't come up with a title for the series, yet) This one is the boys from my story 'Hunter', sitting up on Christmas eve to wait for Santa.

Late night on Christmas eve. I'd never really gotten into it, if I'm honest. My parents hadn't seen the point in telling me stories and fairytales about Santa Claus. It had never really bothered me, though. But waiting up 'for Santa' was one of the strangest things that had happened. It shouldn't have seemed to strange, given what I was training to do, but it was. It was actually quite nice, though. Even Lytton had gotten into the Christmas spirit, and had gone almost a week without picking a fight.

Sam was sat on his bed with his guitar, playing cheesy Christmas songs. Victor was sat with him, an arm draped around his neck. He was the only one who didn't seem to be that into Christmas, but even he'd been less snappy than usual. Luther came up after a bit, with a tray in each hand. Hot chocolate and mince pies, by the looks of it. He set the trays down on Victor's bed, which was empty, and told us to help ourselves. Lytton was off his bed almost before Luther had set the trays down. Sam reached across from where he was sat on his own bed to grab a mince pie. It was strange that Lytton didn't make a snide remark about Sam's weight. Nice, but strange.

I pulled the covers a bit further up. It was starting to get pretty cold, enough so that the Sarj had let us put the heating on. He'd been a bit tetchy about it, though, since it was going to run up the bills. And Victor had spent the past few days taking the piss, because apparently we must be wimps if we thought this was cold. He was now half asleep on Sam's shoulder, so Tom got up to go and poke him. "You cor go to sleep yet, Victor. It ay midnight yet." he said.

"I'm not going to sleep." Victor told him. "I'm just resting my head a little."

"Well ya look like ya gooin' to sleep." Tom argued.

"Well I'm not." snapped Victor.

Sam reached across and grabbed another mince pie, holding it up in front of Victor's face. Victor took a bite out of it and brought his hand up to take it off Sam. He pulled a face as he swallowed. "I don't like it." he said.

"Well nobody made you eat it." Sam told him.

"Yeah, I know." Victor snapped, sticking the half-eaten mince pie back on the tray. Luther was the only one who was able to not burst out laughing at that. "What? What's so funny?" Victor asked. "Guys, seriously, I don't get it. What are you all laughing at?"

"Don't worry about it, Victor." Sam said, before starting another song on his guitar.

There was a brief, awkward silence, as there always seemed to be at some point or another here. It was broken when Tom got up to go and get a hot chocolate and a mince pie. He brought me one of each over, too. "Thanks." I mumbled. Tom smiled sweetly at me and sat down on the end of my bed. "Did ya ever do this as a kid? Stay up all night, waitin' for Santa?" he asked.

"No." I replied. "In my family, the Argos delivery van brought us Christmas presents, not Santa."

"You know, that's actually kinda sad." Lytton cut in. "It seems like, well, like missing a part of your childhood."

"It never bothered me much. My Mum just didn't see the point in filling our head with fairytale when none of them were true. Not for us, anyway."

Tom actually looked a little upset at that. It had never bothered me at all, and I didn't really get why it was such a big deal. "I can see where she was coming from." said Victor. "Why fill childrens heads with fairy tales? All they do is give you false hopes and dreams that will never come true. It's better to just not believe. Easier. It hurts less."

"Is that really what you think, Victor?" asked Sam. Victor just smiled weakly and didn't answer. He turned to Luther and asked, "What time is it?"

"Five minutes to midnight. Why?" he replied.

Almost immediately Victor was up and pulling me to my feet. How he'd gotten across the room so quickly I didn't know. "Come on. I have something to show you." he said, dragging me from the room. I followed him up the stairs, to the floor where the Sarj and Doctor Stanton's rooms were. We never really went up to the top floor. Strangest of all was the fact that Victor then opened a window in the hallway, even though it was cold and snowing and he was just wearing his pyjamas, unlike the rest of us who each had four layers of clothing on.

And then he started climbing out of the window. I was used to Victor doing strange things, but that was by far one of the most insane. I must have been pretty insane, though, because when Victor hung down from wherever he was perched and offered me a hand, I followed him out. I had to be very careful not to slip and fall as I climbed out of the window and onto the roof, especially given that my fingers were already freezing and it was pretty slippy. Victor helped me up onto the roof next to him. "Who needs fairytales?" he asked, pointing out to the hills, "When you've got a view like that from your roof?"

I turned my head in the direction he was pointing. The hills were covered in snow, so all you could see was white, everywhere. It glittered where the moon shone on it. There weren't many clouds out, even though it was still snowing a fair bit, and the stars were out bright. They were giving just enough light to see by. There was no movement other than the snow falling softly, no noise other than me and Victor breathing. I sat for a moment taking in the view. Trying to take in the view, anyway. It was something no cheap christmas card would ever be able to recreate. The sort of thing artists and poets probably dream of. I wasn't sure if there was even a word appropriate for it.

After a moment staring at the landscape, I turned back to Victor and said, "Who needs fairytales, right?" He smiled and said nothing. After a few moments he breathed out, "красивое*."

"Excuse me?" I asked. I hadn't quite caught what he'd said, but it was clearly enough not something I'd understand. "It means beautiful." he explained.

"Doesn't quite seem to do it justice." I told him.

"I know." he replied.

We sat there for about a minute or so longer, just enjoying the view. And then Luther's head popped through the window and he shouted up at us, "Do you two want to freeze your bloody bollocks off? Get back in here. Tom wants to do a toast to Christmas cheer and all that, apparently." Victor and Luther both helped me clamber down from the roof and through the window back into the hallway, and I still slipped on my way through the window and ended up on my arse on the hall floor. I suppose it was lucky I'd landed inside and not outside, really. Victor climbed down after me, landing graceful and catlike on his feet. He turned and closed the window behind him before following me and Luther downstairs, where Tom was waiting with a speach about the Christmas spirit and friendship.

* Phonetically, krasivoe. I don't speak Russian, so I'm taking the internet's word for it here. If anyone has a better/more appropriate word for me to use, please do tell.