Festive

"Still peckish?" she asked him. "I am ... satisfied," he responded (in a tone that made all three wives look up). "You've done something noble," Wife the Second commented, observing the vaguest of upturns at the corner of the mouth. "Your eyes are sparkling," Wife the First added, her eyes narrowed to slits. "You've eaten a Christmas thief," Wife the Third said with a smile (that started small, but grew broad and bright). "Someone who's been doing it for a while ... someone who'd grown overly confident." Dracula grinned back, and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "It is a ... unique ... advantage - being able to track a delivery vehicle from above as well as anyone following closely behind it. The eventual "interruption" took no time at all, but I spent at least an hour returning the parcels to their intended destinations." "You're practically Santa," Wife the Second cooed. "Saint Drac!" Wife the First pronounced cheerily. "Probably a bit closer to Krampus, but I AM feeling rather festive," Dracula responded, fangs gleaming.