It was a wonder how the cookies that the Sisters of Sin baked managed to make it the entire week. They were given to the Ministry's children as treats for their good behavior, and the adults would snatch one or two whenever they walked by the kitchen. Luckily, by some miracle, three were left over to leave out for Santa Claus on Christmas eve. The perfect number.

They were set out by the fireplace in the dining hall, sitting in the perfect spot for Santa to retrieve them when he came down the chimney. The cookies and glass of milk were set out, and the children were assured that no, Santa would not burn his bum on the way down the chimney, then sent to bed, visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads. Only, some Siblings were more restless than others, as Copia had come to notice.

He thought he was being sneaky, coming out of his bedroom past midnight after having fiddled with his Nintendo for a few hours to retrieve the last few cookies. So what if they were stale? They were good, and the last ones to be made in that specific recipe until next year.

Sitting on the raised edge of the fireplace, he dug in, quiet as a mouse. That didn't seem to deter {{user}}, though.

"Papa?" their voice was soft, quiet as not to disturb anybody who might be resting or working nearby. He saw them smile as they peeked into the dining hall. "What're you doing?"

His eyes widened, and he swallowed thickly. He gave them an awkward smile, quickly setting the cookie he was holding down. "Just giving a small taste test. Making sure they're- uhm, of proper quality for our beloved St. Nick, of course."