In the silence of the Christmas evening a clear, if a bit shaky voice echoed, filling the narrow space that held two people. Well, to be precise, one man and one inebriated kwami.

'Santa baby, hicc! slip a sable under the tree hicc! for me~'

Gabriel thought he had seen and heard everything in his long life, that had included the mysterious miraculouses, their occupants and the powers they granted. But this was the first time he'd hear a drunk kwami.

'Been an awful good girl~, hicc! Pffffft! A girl!' the sprite giggled. 'Imma a girl now, hicc!'

At first it was kind of adorable, especially when Nooroo had started on Christmas all time favorites (his version of "All I want for Christmas is Duusu" got a good laugh out of Gabriel), but it became annoying shortly after his hiccup kicked in.

'Santa baby, and hurry down the hicc! chimney tonight~'

Gabriel wished his kwami would have picked up a different song for this particular time. Literally any other than this one.

'Santa baby, a '54 convertible too convertible too, hicc! light blue. I'll wait up for you, dear~ Santa baby, hicc! so hurry down the chimney tonight~'

Because Gabriel was in fact hurrying down the chimney tonight, accompanied by his very merry kwami. Driven by his guilty conscience, still heavy even if long years had passed since he had given up his career as a villain and dedicated himself to make amends to his son and the wonderful daughter-in-law Adrien had somehow managed to woo. And the fact that those two were also the holders of the miraculous jewels he'd been trying to obtain only added to the pile of sins he had to atone for.

'Think of all the fun I've missed, hicc! Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed~'

A few weeks before Christmas, when the Revelion invitation from Adrien came, Emilie suggested it would be a good idea to "do something nice for the kiddies". An addition of a raised brow and mirthless smile meant he was the one to do the aforementioned "something". Thus Gabriel ordered the least gaudy Santa outfit he could find and asked Nathalie to provide him with blueprints of Adrien and Marinette's house. Then he spent a productive evening with Nooroo, planning his route and his Christmas night's gig.

'Owww!' Gabriel hissed, interrupting the kwami drunken song, as his hand got hold of something spiky. 'Son of a-'

'Are you sure this is hicc! a good idea, Master?' Nooroo's worried (if a bit unfocused) face hovered into his view. 'You're not as young and hicc! fit as you used to.'

'Po. Si. Ti. Ve,' Gabriel rasped, punctuating each syllable with a subtle groan.

The first difficulty was to fit into the chimney. Nooroo was right, when he said Gabriel wasn't as fit. He had to wriggle his way into the vent and now he was trying to climb down in the very narrow space without damaging his costume or losing the sack with gifts. He'd probably have given up already if it wasn't for Emma, Louis and Hugo. Somewhere down there his delightful grandchildren were waiting for Pere Noel and Gabriel swore to never disappoint another Agreste kid again. Downward he proceeded.

'Santa baby, hicc!' Nooroo picked up where he stopped, 'I want a yacht and really that's not hicc! a lot. Been an angel all year. Hicc! Santa baby~'

'Be a dear, Nooroo,' Gabriel grunted. 'And stop singing.'

'But-'

'Just stop, please. I need to focus,' the man sent him a stern look.

'Whatever you say, Gabey baby,' the sprite muttered and phased through Santa's hat to make himself comfortable in Gabriel's hair.

'That was the last time I let you have spiced wine, you drunkard,' Gabriel warned. He was replied with an indignant huff from under the hat.

He pursed his lips and returned to the task at hand. His skin exposed to the Santa costume (that was supposed to contain no polyester but it turned out you couldn't trust suppliers these days, even if you're a high end fashion mogul) was starting to itch. He just knew his hair under the fluffy hat was already a sweaty mess and Nooroo's presence didn't make it better. He just wanted this nightmare to end.

But you know what they say. Be careful what you wish for.

The surface of the shaft changed from brick to something much more slippery and suddenly the surplus of friction was no longer an issue. The more pressing problem presented itself as Gabriel started to slide down the chimney.

'Nooroo. Help,' he whispered to the sprite who was currently hiccuping in his Master's dishevelled hair under the hat.

Nooroo caught a fistful of hair in each paw and pulled but the action slowed Gabriel's descent far less than it hurt. And since it hurt like hell, Gabriel uttered a very unmanly screech.

'I can't catch you, Master,' the kwami exclaimed. On the plus side, his hiccup stopped.

The other end of the vent was coming into view much faster than Gabriel would like. He was positive now that at this speed he'd end up a smashed bloody puddle of broken bones on his grandchildren's carpet. Not the gift he intended for them.

And then old instincts kicked in and Gabriel reached for the same solution he had applied to his problems long time ago.

'Nooroo, dark wings rise!' he blurted closing his eyes and hoping the sprite would be quick enough to lend him some durability for the fall.

A purple light filled the chimney. Gabriel felt the magic rushing through his bones, lacing his body with that extra miraculous padding one appreciates when falling to their demise.

In a cloud of dust, with a quiet groan, Hawkmoth landed in a heap of miraculously unbroken bones and unmutilated limbs on a soft carpet. He was welcomed by a few giggles and fairly more gasps. He ignored them for the time being, waiting for the world to stop spinning behind his closed eyes and for his brain to catch up with the position his body had taken.

More giggles finally made him snap his eyes open. Three joyful looks of the youngest Agreste generation greeted him. Their parents stood above the kids, wearing matching grins of amusement. Emilie took position next to them, tapping her foot. On her lips exasperation fought with mirth. Hawkmoth said a little prayer to any deity willing to listen for the the latter to win. His wife's eyes drifted to his body and she barked out a laugh.

What was that about?

He inspected his suit. Maybe it was because of Nooroo's intoxication or just a strike of festive spirit, but his moth attire was different than usual. From the lavender fluffy embroidery on his sleeves, legs and collar, through the subtle snowflake pattern on the suit itself, to the shoes, actually more like boots, still black but sturdy, more appropriate for snowdrifts than runways. And his head felt warmer under the usual mask. A lavender pompon slipped into his vision. He puffed to move it out of the way.

'Daddy, daddy, look!' Emma cried excitedly at that. 'It's Santa Moth!'

Author's Note: Merry Christmas, Remasa! This is my little gift for you this year! I hope you have a wonderful holiday!

And Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it! If you enjoyed this drabble, please tell me! I appreciate your reviews greatly!