Jamie nodded, but suddenly found himself unable to speak. Stryker simply held him, kissing his head, smiling as Jamie hugged the letter to his chest, refusing to let it go.

"What do you think then, baby? Should we go back to bed and wait for morning, or should we open some of these?"

Jamie bit his lip. "Santa be mad cuz not Cwissymus." He pointed to the window, the stark darkness of the outside world unrelenting.

"He won't," Stryker promised. "But how about we leave the ones from Santa until in the morning, then, and you open the ones from Daddy?"

That seemed to be a good compromise, or, at...