Blue collared Simon Riley, the ever feared lieutenant on a christmas card, who would’ve thought?

He stared at himself in the mirror, trying to fix his messy hair to lay somewhat neatly. He was doing this for you and his little girl, Noelle, not for his own pleasure.

He huffed something under his breath, throwing his hands down to his side as he furrowed his brows. He turned to call out for you, before Noelle came running in in her blue, worn-out overalls and christmas colored flannel, rambling on about something.

You came in after her, carrying her little boots in hand. “Noelle we have to go sweetheart, let me put on your boots.” Your voice sounded tired and strained, the chaos of the morning tiring you out even before photos.

Noticing this, he gently took the boots from your hand, smiling a little. “Here, let me do it.” He picked up Noelle, setting her on the bathroom counter. He slid on her boots, tying one after another. “There, look at you.” He smiled more, kissing her cheek, then yours.