“Everybody pick a name,”

Mr. Miller stood at the center of the room holding a glass bowl full of folded up pieces of paper. He was wearing a festive Christmas sweater and a smile that seemed too big even for an event that involved getting presents.

Still, I couldn’t blame him, anything Christmas-related always improved my mood. The scent of the pine tree he had Andrei drag in the day before, the red and green tinsels decorating the windows - even the cheesy Christmas music playing softly in the background.

“Same rules as last year: each day for a week, give a gift to the co-worker whose name you drew, and on the last day we’ll all reveal ourselves. Keep the presents affordable though,”

He said, then narrowed his eyes at Jessica, who was leaning against the wall with a look of boredom on her face.

“And no telling your co-workers whose name you picked!”

She made a face like he just ran over her puppy. Nikita theatrically patted his shoulder, as if to say ‘feel free to cry on it’. He clearly didn’t expect her to play along though, because as she used his shirt to wipe away an imaginary tear, his face took on a subtle shade of pink.

“I’ll go first,” Mr Miller said when no one made a move.

His hand was midway to picking a name when William swept in through the front door, disrupting the warm, cozy atmosphere of the room. It was like he’d brought the chill of the outside with him. He looked at the bowl.

“We’re doing a secret Santa event? I love those things,” He said, and then turned to look at everyone else.

“To anyone who gets my name, I can’t eat gluten, I’m lactose intolerant and I prefer dried fruit to chocolate,”

I saw Mr. Miller discreetly pull out another slip of paper, scribble William’s name on it, fold it, and return it to the bowl. His eyes were laser focused on it as he picked a name on the opposite end.

He gave the bowl a good shake and put on a fake, pleasant smile just in time for William to excitedly make his way over.

“Oooh,” William said dramatically as he spread the piece of paper he’d picked in front of him.

There wouldn’t be much suspense come Monday when someone finds a festively-wrapped box of quinoa on their desk. I just prayed it wouldn’t be me.

Mr. Miller made his way around the room, waiting for all of us to pick a name.’Not Andrei. Not Andrei’ I repeated in my mind as I drew my slip of paper. I unfolded it.

‘Willam. Sorry.’ The words were accompanied by a scribble of a frowny face.

xxx

“What are you doing?” Nataly asked as she rounded the corner to find me tightening a bright red ribbon around a bottle of hair-loss supplements.

“We’re doing a secret Santa event at work,” I said.

She leaned down to read the label, but it was covered by the fabric.

“I think I need a bit more context than that,”

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I picked up the second bottle I bought and angled it her way. It read ‘For those with the occasional digestive hiccup. Includes herbs meant to aid digestion and keep things "moving smoothly."

“It’s for William.” I said, barely holding back laughter.

‘My god I’m immature. Am I being too petty?’ I thought to myself.

Then I remembered that he once asked me to move a title to the right by exactly four pixels, changed his mind, made me move it by another four, and then got frustrated and demanded to know why he was doing my job for me.

Nataly giggled. “Oh that’s good. Aren’t supplements expensive though?”

“I found a relatively affordable brand. It’s still more expensive than a bag of dried figs, but I think it’s worth it,”

“Why didn’t you get him the dried figs? It’s just as shitty a gift,”

I gave her a knowing smile, shaking my head. “Ah, my dear, sweet summer child,”

Nataly plopped down on the seat across from me and gave me a confused look.

“Don’t you know that psychopaths love dried fruit?”

She pretended to think about it, her brown eyes focused on our dusty, geriatric ceiling fan.

“There’s something to that…”

I unrolled more of the ribbon and cut it to size with a satisfying ‘snip’.

“Glad you didn’t get Andrei, huh?”

The words made me pause. My immediate thought was ‘Of course I’m glad!’, but the exclamation mark morphed into a question halfway through. I didn’t want to want to be his secret Santa, but I guess some part of me did. If only to give him a passive aggressive gift - I reasoned with myself.

“Yeah, what would I even get him anyways?”

Nataly rolled her eyes.

“I’m joking, I’m well aware you wanted to pick him. I know you guys are beefing over something and all, but that’s just how you show love, right?”

I scoffed. “What love? He’s not even single,”

My fingers slowed to a stop on the ribbon. What was wrong with me? Why did I even care?

“He’s dating someone new? Since when? Who is she?”

“Some unfairly hot blond he calls his ‘sun’”

Nataly gave me a sympathetic look. “Ouch. Want some hot cocoa? I can smother it with whipped cream,”

“Yes please,”

Xxx

Gavak was pretty sure that Sassa was sad.

There were some clues. Earlier today when they were on their way to their employer’s mansion, he noticed her staring longingly at the rain outside the carriage window. She kept asking tavern owners if they served something called ‘ice cream’, kicked random rocks - and he was pretty sure she was currently talking to a pet familiar she’d summoned. Either that or she was muttering a really lengthy incantation that had to involve the word ‘bastard’ a lot to work.

He slowly made his way over to where the furry creature sat, looking noticeably bored. He didn’t even know weasels could get bored.

The witch looked almost crazed. Her eyes were sporting dark circles, and her usually tidy braids were coming undone, errant strands sticking out like sparks.

“Sassa?” He asked, his voice almost a whisper. He didn’t want to startle her.

She stopped trying to engage the poor weasel in conversation, but didn’t turn to look at him.

“What do you want?”

Her voice was venomous. Still, it was an improvement from the time they fought over the chicken. He got distinct ‘turning him into a toad and feeding him to a giant spider’ vibes then.

He was quite familiar with these little nuances - lots of people spoke to him that way in the past, though he couldn’t fathom why. Maybe they were intimidated by his greatness. He couldn’t blame them.

“I’m sorry about the chicken, you can have my share of wings next time,”

His words seemed to have no effect, but he wasn’t one to give up easily.

“You look like you’re feeling out of shorts,” He said.

Sassa turned to stare at him.

“What?”

“You know - down in the bumps?”

Sudden realization flashed across her face, and she let out such a loud, visceral sneeze of a laugh that his hand flew up to cover his chest.

“It’s ‘down in the dumps’, you idiot,” She said when she caught her breath.

She was smiling. It was quite accidental, but it gave him an idea all the same.

“Well excuse me for trying! You looked like you were going through a rough batch and I wanted to be a good friend,”

The laughter renewed in full, and Gavak smiled to himself, watching the summoned weasel sneak away from the scene.

Xxx

I saw Jessica eyeing my desk as I dragged my sleepy ass inside the building Monday morning.

‘Crap, I bet William is my secret Santa. What did the bastard get me? A box of celery sticks?’

I followed her gaze, trying to think of a sneaky way to toss whatever it was in the garbage without anyone noticing. Only, it wasn’t a box of celery sticks.

It was a bucket of KFC and a small book. Curious, I picked it up.

The title read: ‘No Pun Intended - Prepare for a huge helping of witty wordplay & playful punchlines!’