“Nice doggie,” Nick soothed, trying to make his way back to the fireplace. “Good doggie. You wouldn’t bite an elf now, would you?”

“Ripley bites anyone who trespasses,” came an annoyed voice. It sounded like the guy had gargled sandpaper and swallowed it for breakfast, and sent a shiver straight down Nick’s spine. He looked up and saw a man in a suit holding a gun. It wasn’t one of those toy guns kids liked to play with, either. This one was real. Nick swallowed and backed up, and froze at an unfamiliar voice making a warning ‘tsk’.

Four men had surrounded him, all with weapons that were deadly.

“It seems we have an uninvited guest.” Nick looked at the man who had spoken. Unlike the four in suits, this man wore pajamas and a housecoat. He looked sleepily at Nick and sighed. “We go through this every year. When are you going to learn?”

Every year? “Um, if you don’t mind, I can just leave-”

“No,” the leader snapped. “Not this year. I’ve had enough. This is the year it stops.

“Dad?”

Nick glanced around the suited James Bond wannabes and saw a small child in red and green pajamas dragging a dinosaur blanket and rubbing at his eyes.

It only made sense that the weaponless man was the one who went to the child and picked him up, rocking the boy gently. “What are you doing up?” the - father? - cooed. “I thought you were going to sleep so Santa could visit?”

“I came to see my Santa present,” the kid yawned.

“You can open it in the morning,” the father said gently.

“Nuh-uh,” the kid protested. “I asked to see Daddy kissing Santa. Santa will be gone in the morning. It has to be tonight.”

“You… what?” Nick asked.

“I wanted to see Daddy kissing Santa. Like the song. I don’t have a mommy, so it has to be Daddy kissing Santa under mistletoe.”

The father laughed. “Is that why you made me listen to that song so many times?”

“Daddy,” the kid whined. “Santa’s magic. You have to kiss him.”

Nick was trying to back away, though the suits weren’t letting him get far. He had a bad feeling about this gift, like maybe Kris hadn’t told him everything about this delivery.

“If I give him a kiss, will you go to bed?” the father asked.

The kid gave a sleepy nod like he wasn’t blackmailing his own father to get tongue-tied with a stranger who had (it seemed) broken into their home. Was he really on the nice list?

The father gave a small smile and set the child down on the ground, kneeling to be on his level. “Remember now, you promised.” He stood and walked over to Nick.

The elf swallowed hard. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” Nick whispered. Kisses were important.

“I’ve caught one of you in my house every Christmas Eve for the past five years. At least this time they sent someone cute.”

Nick peered around the man to look at the little tyke. “Hi,” he said.

The kid grinned back at him. “Hi!” He waved from behind the legs of a suit-guard.

“Just checking, because this is important,” Nick said. “Very important. Wouldn’t you rather have your Daddy kiss a mommy than Santa’s helper?”

To his credit, the child did seem to think about it really hard. “I think I’d rather have Santa as my mommy,” the kid decided.

Nick hid his face in his hands. “That was not the way I expected that to go.”

“Well it did,” the father said, then pulled Nick’s hands away from his face and stole Nick’s first kiss.

“You forgot the mistletoe!” the child complained as Nick tried his best to catch his breath against the magic that filled him.

Lips smirked against his own, and Nick suddenly knew everything about this single father. Thomas, a very wealthy game maker who was expanding into making toys for his signature games. The live-in bodyguards were also nannies, and Ripley was the family pet who loved cuddles in the sun. And the guns - real guns - shot rubber bullets. Kris had been caught every year before by Ripley, and little Davie had learned the secret of the Santa elves.

When they pulled apart, Nick was panting. He leaned his head against Thomas’ shoulder because he couldn’t believe he’d just gotten married on Christmas Eve, at midnight, to someone he’d just met. The package had tumbled from his hands, bursting open on the floor, and he stared at it wide-eyed.

Mistletoe.

No wonder Kris hadn’t wanted to do this particular delivery.