Anyone looking through the windows of the large Kensington townhouse would probably have first noticed the decorations. There were a lot of them. But rather than the usual overload of lights and tinsel and flashing reindeer, these were somewhat more tasteful. The kind of thing one might find in a Christmas Catalogue from one of the better department stores. A seven foot tall tree decorated with elegant glass spirals and delicate silver snowflakes and subtle tartan bows adding colour here and there. There were candles lit everywhere, their flickering dances glinting off of glass and polished surfaces and reflecting in the windows, drawing the eye of anyone passing. There was a fire roaring in the grate, a stained glass screen in front of it protecting the rug from the pops and crackles of the logs and the pine cones as they burned.

The same anyone would have probably noticed the small boy tearing excitedly at the wrappings of his gifts. The boy was surrounded on all sides by colourfully wrapped parcels, some of the paper with its comic snowmen and skiing Santas somewhat at odds with the tasteful decor of the room. If anyone were to think about it, the boy's dressing gown, fluffy with Daleks all over it and the word "Exterminate" plastered in bright red across the shoulders was also some kind of anachronism. The room might be stamped with the indelible seal of Christmas past, but this boy was definitely embracing the present with both hands.

Anyone might have been forgiven for thinking this child was spoiled, surrounded as he was by gifts. And there were rather a large number of gifts for one child. But he was an only child. And one that was so treasured by his parents that if he had asked for the moon and stars his father would have found a way to give him them. On closer inspection the gifts, though numerous were not merely the momentary whims of the average child. There was a chemistry set, and a microscope. Several books. Several items of Giraffe patterned clothing. And a rather advanced set of technical Lego. All the while the boy was thoughtfully going through his presents he seemed to be explaining everything to a floppy toy Giraffe seated just by his knee.

No one looking through the window would have noticed the rather tall man standing by the mantelpiece. He was elegantly dressed in a patterned silk dressing gown that somebody had obviously matched to his eyes. The firelight was glinting off of the copper red in his hair, the same colour as the boy's. He was joined by another man, shorter with a battered face and a broad smile. The shorter man handed the taller a glass of champagne and slipped his arms around his waist, laughing.

And no one, not even the broken man with his limp and his scars noticed the tears running through the smile on the tall man's face.