Avery looked out at The Wreath. It had become a tradition — every year, she watched as he rowed across the lake on the first of December, and every year, after Christmas Day, they went their ‘separate’ ways — Krampus doing whatever he did during the year, while Avery managed the bakery. Every year, all kinds of holiday mischief and magic made life on The Wreath more than a little interesting, but some things stayed the same. The fact Avery and Krampus were just coworkers was one of those things.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” asked a voice.

Avery turned. Her holiday temp worker, Jezebel, had brought out a tray of treats — two lattes, some of the reject Christmas sugar cookies they had in the kitchen, and two peppermint candy canes.

“Come, take a seat,” said Avery. “You see that island over there?”

“Yeah. It’s the center of The Wreath,” said Jezebel. “What of it?”

“It’s actually a Christmas tree farm,” explained Avery.

“Really?” asked Jezebel, taking a mug and sipping. Avery took her cup and sipped too. After her first sip, she realized she’d made a bit of a mistake. The latte was an eggnog latte, and it was too early in the day for Avery to be having eggnog. In for a penny, out for a pound, thought Avery, taking a bigger sip of her drink.

“Every year, I get a Christmas tree from the man who runs it,” said Avery.

“What’s he like?” asked Jezebel.

“Well…” Avery started, her voice trailing off as she thought about how to describe Krampus. He was a frikkin’ demon — not just a Christmas demon, but the Christmas demon, but Jezebel wouldn’t understand what the heck that meant. He was a jerk. He was domineering. He was bossy. He was stubborn.

But he was also surprisingly kind, compassionate, and caring. He’d shown that side to her on occasion, and to her bakers and his lumberjacks.

“Oh, I see,” said Jezebel with a soft laugh.

“What?” asked Avery.

“He’s your boyfriend,” said Jezebel.

“N-no, he’s not,” said Avery. “We’re just friends, if that. He works for the same guy I work for. He’s my boss’s best friend.”

“So he’s off limits,” said Jezebel.

“Trust me — nothing is happening between us,” said Avery.

“Uh-huh,” said Jezebel.

“Ugh, whatever,” said Avery. “Anyway. If I know anything about Krampus…is that he’s not interested in me either. Definitely not.”

“If that’s true, why’s he about to row over here, wearing basically nothing at all?” teased Jezebel.

“He’s what?” asked Avery. She looked across the lake. She’d never missed Krampus teaching his bad boys how to row the frikkin’ boat across the lake — not in the last dozen years they’d spent on The Wreath together. A shirtless man had his back to her and was fiddling with something on the dock.

“That’s probably just his lumberjack of the year,” said Avery.

Then, the figure turned. There was no mistaking the man with black curly hair for anyone but Krampus. Avery swore she could see his emerald eyes flash from across the lake, but she knew it must’ve been a trick of the light.

What she could see was thick muscles, holding an old wooden rowboat in one frikkin’ arm, the other hand holding two splintery oars. Krampus threw the rowboat down from the dock onto the water and then, tied a bundle to his back that looked like a dead frikkin’ body wrapped in a trash bag. Then, Krampus leaped down onto the boat, and the water didn’t ripple even slightly. Krampus sat down in the boat and started rowing toward Bear Claw Bakery…by himself.

Avery felt like she needed a cold shower, but given she was in a pinch, the menthol cool spearmint candy cane would do. She put the candy cane in her mouth and swirled its sweet coldness around her tongue and cheeks absentmindedly.

“You practicing for later?” joked Jezebel.

Avery’s cheeks burned.

“I am not,” Avery said, mouth full of candy cane, before she bit down on it, crackling the candy into a thousand tiny splinters. “You know, I usually don’t use teeth for that.”

“Well, Krampus looks like the kinda guy that would love to get bitten,” said Jezebel, crossing her arms. “And you look like you want to eat him up.”

“I am your boss,” protested Avery lamely.

“And I’m a sassy bitch — tell me something I don’t know,” sassed Jezebel. “Now, are you gonna watch the show, or what?”

Avery sipped at her eggnog latte, smiled, and took Jezebel’s advice to heart. She’d never seen Krampus row across the lake before. After all, he was a frikkin’ demon. He could bend time and space, create portals using the magic chain around his neck, and he always had a lumberjack acting as his lumber-bitch, doing all his ‘bitch work’ every Christmas season.

But, for some reason, this year, Krampus was doin’ it human style — and that meant shirtless.

Avery took another sip of her eggnog. As Krampus drew nearer, she could see more and more of his body, in more exquisite detail, from the curves of his biceps to the sweat glistening on his abs.

“You know…I’ve heard of showboating,” commented Jezebel. “But, I never thought that one could one-up that by rowboating. He wants you. Or me. He wants curves. That’s for sure.”

“Girl, you have no idea what I want,” growled a voice, from the dock. Krampus leaped out of the boat, onto the dock, and quickly tied the boat up while staring at Avery.

Avery’s mouth opened as Krampus walked up the steps to the patio, abso-frikkin’-lutely shirtless and covered in a mix of sweat, lake water, and melted snowflakes.

Krampus walked right up to Avery, bundle strapped to his back, and pulled the candy cane right out of her mouth.

“Hey!” shouted Avery. “I was eating that!”

“I know — and I thought you quit those years ago,” said Krampus, tossing the candy cane to the ground. “You’ve been so good about staying off of them. You wouldn’t want to be bad and get on The Naughty List, now, would you?” Krampus crushed the peppermint confection beneath his heel.

“Now, little girl — shoo,” ordered Krampus. “Mommy and Daddy have some things to discuss, and you wouldn’t want to get on The Naughty List, now, would you?”

“No, sir,” said Jezebel, getting up and taking the tray away with a smirk.

“You can’t just order my temps around,” said Avery, pouting.

“I think I just did,” said Krampus. “Now…are you going to open your present or what?”

Avery looked down at Krampus’ pants.

“No, you pervert,” said Krampus, motioning to his back. “I can’t get this bow off by myself.”

“You absolutely can,” said Avery, crossing her arms.

“Do you want the tree or what?” asked Krampus.

“Wow, spoiler alert,” said Avery sarcastically, standing up to get behind Krampus. There was an ornately tied red velvet bow keeping the tree attached to Krampus.

“Sorry to spoil the surprise,” said Krampus equally sarcastically. “It’s not like, oh, I get you the same thing every year or anything.”

“Whatever,” said Avery, trying to untie the knot. “Ugh. This is really on here. I don’t think your demoncraft magic would be able to undo this knot!”

“Good thing I have your help,” said Krampus. “Speaking of which…”

“Let me guess — you have some bad boy lumberjack back at Camp Kringle, pouting about bad boy things, and you want my temp to go cheer him up?” asked Avery, raising an eyebrow even though Krampus couldn’t see her face.

“No,” said Krampus. “There’s no lumberjack this year.”

“There’s no bad boy to reform, no werebear to train and turn into a reindeer shifter to pull Santana’s sleigh?” asked Avery incredulously.

“Yeah, thanks for the exposition,” sassed Krampus. “Santana told me to get my own house in order this year.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” asked Avery with a chuckle.

“It means that he doesn’t think I’m qualified to help bad boys find their fated mates and get off of The Naughty List…if I don’t have a mate myself,” said Krampus. “The Jolly Fellow knows better than to try and make me get my own ass off of The Naughty List, so all he wants is for me to get a mate.”

“Just a mate? Not a fated mate?” asked Avery.

“Okay — he probably said ‘fated’ somewhere in there, but, come on,” said Krampus with a groan. “There’s no way Fate has a plan for demons. But anyway…that’s why I need your help.”

“You want me to set you up with my friends?” asked Avery.

“Ugh, no thanks,” said Krampus. “You’re the only Christmas elf I can half-stand. No. I, uh…need your feminine touch.”

“I’m not gonna give you a reach-around,” said Avery with a sigh. “Never took you for one of them sex demons, the what’re they called, the things, with the demoning and the sex…”

“Incubi, and I mean…I need your expertise,” said Krampus. “You know about love and mates and dating and shit. All that romantic junk. Sometimes, I swear you should’ve been a Valentine’s Day elf instead of a Christmas elf.”

“You mean cupids, and…let me get this straight,” said Avery, giving up on the bow and moving to give Krampus the once over. “You want me…to teach you…how to date women?”

“Women, demons, elementals, whatever,” said Krampus. “At this point, I would try an alien or a sentient boulder. I just need to learn what to do.”

“What’s your deadline?” asked Avery.

“Christmas Day,” said Krampus.

“That’s soon, but, I didn’t expect Santana to set a different deadline,” admitted Avery.

“He didn’t set it — I did,” said Krampus.

“Why?” asked Avery.

“I have my reasons,” said Krampus, avoiding the question. “Now, are you going to help me or what?”

“Well…it’s gonna be a heck of a lot harder than baking cranberry Danishes, but, what the heck,” said Avery. “No lumberjack bad boy means no drama this Christmas season. I’ll help you out — starting with a practice date.”

“A practice date?” asked Krampus, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure a single practice date is going to help me?”

“What do you suggest?” asked Avery.

“Three practice dates,” said Krampus. “Three’s a lucky number, isn’t it?”

“Fine, but we’ll start with just one practice date, and if I want, you’ll get two more practice dates. I know better than to make promises to a devil,” insisted Avery. “Just come over here tomorrow at eight. You have some ornament balls asking me for this favor, Krampus. After all – you still haven’t buffed the stain out of my floor, the one you left there when we first met! Every dang year, I have to cover it with a Christmas tree.”

“But what do I —” started Krampus.

“I want to see what you do naturally before we do some makeover montage,” said Avery. “It’s just a practice date.”

“Great,” said Krampus, waving his hand, causing the ribbons around his back to unfurl. “Now, where do you want this?”

“Krampus!” hissed Avery. “You could’ve undone the knot this whole frikkin’ time?”

“Of course,” said Krampus. “But, how else would I get to ask you this very odd, very embarrassing favor, alone, away from prying eyes and round human ears?”

“Krampus!” Avery hissed again.

“That still doesn’t answer the question of where you want this,” said Krampus with a wink.