The early hours were always the hardest to wake up in.  And the first Christmas the Boys spent in Arana’s vicinity was the worst.

Five AM, there was a loud thumping on their door, and Svorak actually fell out of bed, while Christoph groaned and covered his face with Svorak’s abandoned pillow.  Outside the door, Arana was beaming widely.  “Wake up, lads!  It’s Christmas!”

“Uhg,” Svorak said eloquently from the floor.

“Go back to bed,” Christoph said, voice muffled.

There was a pause.  “Alright!  I’ll go start breakfast!”

The brief memory of the last hotel they’d stayed in drifted over both of them.  Eventually, the fire department had managed to put out the flames.  And now Arana was audibly padding away from the door.

“No!” Svorak yelped, scrambling up.  However, his legs were somewhat tangled in the sheets (which had fallen off the bed with him) and he almost fell flat on his face.  Almost.  There was something to be said for mercenary reflexes.  Mercs didn’t fall on their faces.

Christoph was already up and scrambling into clothing when Svorak managed to untangle himself and get up.  Ergo, the blond ran from the room first.  He tripped into the kitchen and paused.  Eyes landed on the small table, then moved to the woman fussing with the coffee pot.  Then focused on Drai, whom was sipping from a Dunkin Donuts cup.  Then back to the table, where two large boxes of donuts rested.

Honey eyes narrowed at the woman when she gave him a knowing smirk.  “That is playing dirty, Lady,” he said, pouting.

“Christmas,” she retorted.

“Holy crap,” came from somewhere behind him.  “Chris-  Arana, where’d you get all this?!”

The blond blinked and meandered back into the living room (which he had previously rushed through blindly).  There was the tiny tree Arana had talked Svorak into getting last week, and then the empty stockings she’d bullied Christoph into buying.  And the candy canes tucked into them that Drai had bought before she could ask.

And, beneath the tree, scattered over the coffee table, under it and around it, were dozens of presents.  Most - that he could see - were addressed to Drai, Christoph and Svorak.

When had she gotten all of this?  And where?

“Donuts?”  Drai peeked into the living room, holding one of the boxes and smiling.

The darker male shook his head, staring at the mound with something almost like awe.  “Geez, I haven’t had nearly this many presents since I was a kid,” he muttered.  “And not even then.  Lady, where are you?”

“Kitchen,” came her voice, sounding very amused.

“No donuts then.  Oh well, more for me,” Drai said, then pouted when Svorak stole the box on his way in.  “Damn.”

The blond wandered over to the presents, sitting down on the couch.  He leaned forward and lifted one addressed to him.  It was small, wrapped in metallic green paper, with a big bow on top.  And enough tape to keep a mummy together.  He grinned fondly.  Apparently cooking wasn’t the only thing their woman was bad at.

“No opening presents yet!” Arana yelped, rushing over to snatch it away and glare at him.  “Not till after breakfast!  Go get cleaned up.  Go on, get up and go wash your face.  You look like you just had a bitch fight with the sandman.”

The blond blinked, gave her an amused smile and obliged.  “Yes, yes, of course, mother,” he drawled teasingly.

“No lip from you!” she yelled after him, but there was laughter in her voice.

When he returned from the bathroom, he noted with amusement that Svorak had managed to escape the same treatment and was smirking at an irritated Arana.  Drai was sparkling almost, thus the lack of Arana-sized wrath upon his head.

“You should take a picture, it lasts longer,” Svorak drawled after a beat.

Arana shook her fist at him before snatching the donuts out of his hands.  He let her.  Huffing, she set it back on the table and forced everyone to drink some orange juice before leading the procession into the living room.

She stole the comfortable chair.  “Alright, you can open ‘em now,” she said, sipping her cup of coffee.

“Shall we take turns, mother?” Drai asked sweetly.

The glare she leveled at him didn’t appear to affect him very much.  Christoph chuckled and picked up the present she’d stolen from him earlier.  The other two quickly followed his example, and soon enough the men were poking through the pile, making a mess with the paper, and cursing over the stupid amount of tape.  (Svorak eventually gave up and got out his pocket knife)

Half an hour passed in no time.  Drai pulled a stunt with one of his presents, sniffing it, feeling it and shaking it, and declared it socks.  It was.  After that, it became a game, with all of them trying to guess what the presents were before opening them, and in no time, Arana was laughing so hard she had to put down her coffee.

“It’s a bird!  It’s a plane!  No!  It’s a... sweatshirt.  Yay!”

Finally, Svorak stopped.  “Hm.  Things seem to be a bit uneven here...”

His lover perked up, smiling widely.  “You’re right!  I should go get those...”  He got up, beaming, and left.

Blinking as she watched him go, the brunette was wondering what was up.  She turned to give her other boy a look.  He just grinned and got up too.  “You got any, Drai?”

“Mmhm.”  The third male practically jogged from the room.

Minutes passed, and when they returned, they were holding a handful of presents, which they dropped in Arana’s lap.  Her eyes widened slightly, then lifted.  Svorak shrugged.  “Didn’t think you were the only one being sneaky, did you?  Now hurry up.  We have ice skating in twenty minutes.”

The smile on her face made all the trouble worth it.