“Oh my goodness! Oh, Papa! Thank you thank you thank you so much! Tis the most beautiful thing ever in the history of the whole wide world! How did you know I wanted a dress just like this one? Oh my goodness! I will wear it every day of my life! I swear! Eeeee!”

“I am so glad you like it, my darling!” Kurt cried, clasping his hands beneath his chin.

“Like it!?” Beth gasped, as if Kurt’s choice of words had been utterly absurd. “Why, it is now the most glorious thing I own! Thank you! Thank you ever so much!!”

Kurt opened his arms to accept the little girl the second she threw herself into his embrace. It was one of about a hundred such hugs he had been gifted that morning, each accompanied by an identical high-pitched squeal of delight. But Kurt did not mind, not one little bit, for he could not get enough. Beth’s joy was one of the greatest pleasures of his life. He would cherish every hug he received that morning in his heart for the rest of his days.

“I do not believe she has drawn breath once since she woke this morning,” Blaine muttered as Beth twirled away with yet another treasure clutched to her chest.

“I must agree with you, husband.” Kurt laughed, watching Beth launch herself into the dwindling pile of presents. “But so long as she’s happy, I can hardly mind.”

“Obviously, since you seem to be the one receiving the lion’s share of the credit,” Blaine teased, a mischievous twist to his lips as he brought Kurt’s hand to his mouth for a kiss.

“You have also seen a hug or two, husband,” Kurt pointed out. “Do not be ungrateful.”

“I would never,” Blaine assured him, wincing surreptitiously when another high-pitched wail of excitement hit the air. “Why, you wound me by even suggesting it.”

“I don’t mean to, my love. I simply---oof!” Kurt was interrupted, flying backward into his chair back when Beth leapt in to hug him, clutching another wonderful present in her arms.

Many might have accused Kurt of spoiling the girl with the mountain of presents he’d given her, and the tree he had chosen, which reached the ceiling of Blaine’s London manor, if not a little higher, requiring that it be trimmed in order to fit the living room properly with the star placed atop it. Instead of having the cut portion tossed into the fireplace, Kurt ordered the remainder set up in Beth’s room and decorated in the manner of the tree downstairs. That way, should she open her eyes from a nightmare in the middle of the night, she would see it, and a heart filled with fear might instead be filled with happiness.

As such, those blasphemers who might scold Kurt for his overindulgence of his daughter were nowhere to be seen, for this was Beth’s first Christmas with him and Blaine – her first real Christmas since birth, she had confided - and Kurt was intent on making up for each and every one missed.

Beth had been so excited by the prospects of a Christmas with her two new fathers, partaking in every happy chore from decorating the manor to baking cookies with unbridled enthusiasm. It had broken Kurt’s heart when Sebastian told him that young Beth thought there would be nothing under the tree for her. So Kurt, who had already planned a magnificent revelry, made dresses galore for both her and her beloved doll, bought her books, sheet music, ribbons for her hair, brand new shoes, and a collection of gold and silver buckles. She received a leather bag for carrying her things, and several new bonnets all the way from Paris. She was given a new saddle for her pony, leather riding boots to match, and slippers in every color. But the most revered gift of all by far was the one Kurt and Blaine had devised for her together – a gold chain and locket. And inside the locket, a hand-painted miniature of her mother, rendered by Kurt with Blaine’s help. It was truly a magnificent likeness, for Kurt possessed such skill to make it so. And Blaine recalled her looks so fondly, that the image inside wasn’t just of her beautiful face, but of her beautiful soul.

It had brought a tear to Beth’s eyes just as it did to Blaine’s when he first laid eyes upon it.

“You’ve … you’ve given me my mother for Christmas?” Beth had said when she saw it, captivated by its accuracy and Kurt’s attention to detail.

“Oh my darling!” Kurt exclaimed when he saw tears collect in her eyes. “I hope I have not made you upset! I so wanted today to be a happy one for you!”

“Upset!?” she gasped. “I have two fathers, a grandfather, three uncles, and an aunt. And some of the best friends in the world. And now you have given me my mother! How should I ever be upset? I will never be upset again! Not once, not for as long as I live!”

And that joy continued as she released Kurt from her bear hug and scurried off to find the present she had made for Marley, since Kurt’s maid had just then re-entered the room with a tray of hot chocolate.

“At least she is not stingy with her praise,” Blaine remarked.

“That she is not,” Kurt agreed, straightening his coat with a smile on his face so effervescent, it sparkled brighter than the freshly fallen snow on the ground outside. “Oh, I do hope you are not too upset over the ordeal I have turned Christmas into this year, my lord.”

Blaine turned to his husband with an odd look on his face. “Why on earth should I be upset, my love?”

“I don’t know.” Kurt looked into Blaine’s eyes as they held his. “You seemed so dour as everything came together, I thought that, maybe, I had done something wrong. Overstepped my bounds. We had not discussed how the holiday should be handled. I only assumed.”

“And rightly so, my love, for this is the way Christmas should be spent - with love, so much so that it fills house and home from wall to wall and floor to floor.” Blaine took Kurt’s hand in his and kissed it in the way that he always did when he was about to relate a difficult - and often heartbreaking - tale. Feeling his husband’s skin against his lips gave Blaine comfort … and courage. “Christmas does not hold the greatest memories for me, my love. Like most things in life that should be celebrated and enjoyed, it has been sullied for me. My father did not like Christmas. He thought it foolish folly, a waste of time and money. He used to say that Christmas was for the young, and when we were older, he would not celebrate it in the manor. Though, I’ve been told, his opinion on the matter was much different before my mother had me.”

“Oh, my beloved husband,” Kurt said, bringing his free hand to his husband’s cheek. “I am so sorry.”

“Do not be,” Blaine said quickly, planting soft kisses to Kurt’s palm and knuckles. “None of that matters, and never will again as long as I have you and dear, sweet Beth.”

Kurt nodded, watching his husband close his eyes and nuzzle into his cupped hand.

“Do you believe that, my lord?” Kurt asked, wondering if any little piece of his father’s opinion had poisoned his mind. “That Christmas is for the young?”

“Christmas is about love,” Blaine replied. “And love knows no age. Why should it be only for the young?” He chuckled, wry in part. “They get all of the good things in life as it is already – health, freedom, stamina …”

“Now, now, now,” Kurt cut in, “there I must respectfully disagree.”

“On what, husband?”

“I believe that you, my love, have stamina enough to put most of the good men in London half your age to shame.”

Blaine smirked, quirking an eyebrow at his husband’s compliment. “Is that so, husband?”

“Tis so, my lord.”

“That sounds like a challenge. Should we put it to a test?”

“Oh, yes,” Kurt said, sliding forward in his seat to whisper his intentions in his husband’s ear. “Absolutely. I believe that we should---ooof!” Kurt flew backward so suddenly, he nearly toppled off his chair, cut short in the middle of his flirting when Beth flung herself, once again, into his arms, leaving Blaine to laugh out loud …

… until Kurt and Beth returned the favor by tackling Lord Anderson to the floor.