Page 61 of Saving Little Clark

Soon enough, we had all devolved into a puddle of mush, cuddling our respective Daddies and babbling incoherently about what thoughtful, wonderful, secretly magical Daddies we had.

Eventually, with a regretful sigh, Lance checked his watch and shot Oliver a look. "Alright, my little Christmas elves. What do you say we let the Daddies relax for a bit, hmm? Maybe put on a festive flick while you play quietly, give us a chance to recharge before supper?"

Elijah and I nodded agreeably, still blissed out on Daddy snuggles. But Alex, never one to go gently into downtime, hadother ideas. A worryingly familiar gleam sparked in his eye, mouth curling up at the corners in a way that never boded well.

"Well, actually. I had another idea. Something to show our appreciation, for all our Daddies' hard work."

Not ten minutes later, we were lined up in front of our bemused Daddies, an odd assortment of blankets serving as improvised costumes.

Alex had cast himself as the narrator, never one to miss an opportunity to hold court. He'd fashioned a long cloak and fake beard out of a flannel throw, the gravitas of his tone severely undermined by the fluffy wool tickling his nose.

Elijah got to be his faithful sidekick, swathed in so many layers of fleece I feared he might overheat. He beamed at his daddies as he solemnly accepted his duties as The Exposition Fairy.

I, apparently, had been designated the villain of our little drama. The dreaded Grinch figure, hell bent on thwarting the Littles' quest for Christmas cheer.

I had a sneaking suspicion this was payback for winning a game of Mario Kart earlier, but protesting would've been futile.The role of a lifetime, Alex called it. My big breakout moment, a chance to prove my theatrical chops once and for all.

So there I stood, draped in an emerald green sheet and doing my best to look menacing. Alex paced in front of us, one hand raised as if presenting to an imaginary audience.

"It was the night before Christmas," he intoned. "And all through the house, not a creature was stirring."

"Actually, I was a little stirring. Just a skosh of stirring, really, nothing to write home about. I needed a wee midnight snack, you see."

Elijah's stage whisper cut through the dramatic tension like a knife through butter, high and breathy with nerves. His cheeks pinked up as every eye swiveled his way, hands twisting in hisrobe.

Alex sighed, long and put-upon. "Yes, fine, a little light stirring was underway. The point, dear Daddies, is that it was a quiet, peaceful night."

What followed was a convoluted series of events that I'm honestly not sure I fully followed. At one point Elijah got tangled up in his robes and nearly faceplanted, only to pop up and declare it a cunning ploy to distract me with hisadorable clumsiness. Alex ran with it, weaving it into the narrative with barely a pause.

By the time we reached our dramatic final confrontation, I was nearly in tears from holding in my laughter. Alex and Elijah had devolved into clumsy stage combat, brandishing wooden spoons and flailing at each other with wild abandon.

When Elijah accidentally smacked himself in the face and let out a startled "oof!", I couldn't take it anymore. I broke character with an unseemly snort, doubling over and wheezing. That set the other two off, of course. Soon we were all rolling on the floor, cackling. Our discarded props and bits of costume went flying, no rhyme or reason to any of it.

Behind us, I heard our Daddies start to chuckle too. Low and rueful at first, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of composure. But as the giggle fit showed no sign of abating, growing more boisterous by the second, they eventually lost the battle.

"Oh my god," Uncle Will gasped, clutching his stomach between laughs. "I don't even have words."

"Utterly batshit?" Oliver suggested, wiping tears from his eyes. "Completely unhinged? The daftest thing you've ever witnessed, bar none?"

Lance smacked him on the arm, grinning ear to ear. "Hush, you. They worked hard on that. Poured their sweet little hearts and souls into... whatever the flying fuckthatwas."

"Okay, fine. It was absolute rubbish and you know it. But you can't tell me you didn't have fun."

I snickered, scooting over to poke him in the ribs. "Oh, I had a ball. Watching you make an utter fool of yourself is my favorite holiday pastime. I'm thinking of making commemorative t-shirts for next year's performance."

Alex swatted at me halfheartedly. Elijah crawled between us before I could formulate a suitably scathing retort, interrupting our bickering with an exaggerated yawn.

"I'm sleepy," he declared, rubbing at his eyes with a tiny fist. "Thwarting evil really takes it out of you."

Daddy, ever attuned to my needs, swooped in and scooped me up like I weighed nothing. I went boneless against his chest, humming contentedly as he cradled me close.

"Alright, my little Christmas warriors. I think it's time we got you all tucked up snug for a quick nap.”

There were token grumbles of protest, but no real heat behind them. We were all fading fast, eyes drooping and words slurring as the Daddies carried us off to the bedroom.

As I burrowed deeper into the comfort of Daddy's embrace, I felt myself start to drift. The warmth of his body, the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the soothing rumble of his voice. It all conspired to pull me under, soft and slow.

I barely registered being lowered onto cool sheets, gentle hands tucking blankets around my chin. A tender kiss pressed to my forehead, a whispered endearment. And then, nothing but the dark of dreamless sleep, deep and blissfully undisturbed.

---