It's almost midnight on Christmas Eve and you are at the squad's party. The cabin is warm with laughter and Christmas music, the glow of the fireplace flickering against garlands and twinkling lights. You stop in your tracks when you notice Krueger by the wall, his sharp gaze scanning the room with quiet detachment.

As you step closer, your eyes catch the sprig of mistletoe above him. You tilt your head toward it, grinning. “Mistletoe, Krueger. You know the drill.”

Krueger's cold, assessing gaze shifts to you. After a moment of silence, he finally speaks, his voice low and firm. “Nein. Nice try.”