Originally posted 12/17/08Life's been hectic and I haven't had much time to write lately, but the muses came up with this piece of Christmas fun! Many thanks to Loco and Auna for a look and some feedback!
Rating: PG
Setting: About 4 cycles after PKW
Spoilers: None, really
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or this setting, and I'm really excited that Henson is doing something with them (i.e., the upcoming comics!
).... No money being made and no disrespect intended! Apologies to C. L. Moore, whose poem is surely in the public domain at this point!
Somehow things never go the way you expect when you go about sharing your childhood memories with your kids....
Happy Christmas to All
John Crichton stood in the center chamber with his hands on his hips and surveyed his handiwork. The "tree" in front of him suffered some in comparison to his memories of Christmases past by virtue of being merely a collection of odds and ends from Moya's storerooms, piled up in a cone-like shape. But the colored lights were festive, and the hand-made ornaments
almost made up for the lack of vegetation.
As if she could read his mind (and he often suspected she could), his wife said sternly, "Pilot was quite right to ban a live tree, after what happened last cycle!"
He bit back the retort that was on his tongue – that it hadn't been his fault that their choice of a Christmas tree had been infested with a parasite that had taken them nearly a sixth of a cycle to completely eradicate from Moya's systems – and turned his attention to their young son, standing beside him. Deke's eyes were shining as he, too, surveyed the scene.
At 4 cycles of age, Deke was really getting into the whole holiday thing. Last cycle he'd been excited about the presents, but still pretty bewildered about the holiday trappings, such as they were here in the UT's. This time around he'd helped make ornaments for the "tree," shopped gleefully for presents for his parents, and asked endless questions about the decorations and the holiday, causing John to rummage through vague childhood memories in search of details that had escaped him all those years ago. John had finally remembered that when they'd left Earth abruptly a few cycles ago in the wake of the Skreeth attack, among the items his sister Olivia had thrust at him was the family copy of C. L. Moore's poem best known as, "'Twas the Night Before Christmas." His father had read it to John and his sisters every Christmas Eve for years. Now it was time to read the story to his own young'un.
John gathered the book and his son, and settled down on a wide padded chair that Deke's Grandma Crichton would probably have called a love seat. He settled Deke on his lap and put the picture book in the boy's lap. Aeryn sat down in the chair across from them, and pulled her legs up onto the seat and crossed them under her. She leaned back to watch her menfolk with a soft smile on her face.
John leaned his head over Deke's shoulder, opened the book and showed him the first picture. He cleared his throat and began, "
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The—"Deke tugged on his arm and brought him to a halt. "Dad, what's a mouse?"
"Huh? Oh, it's a small earth creature. Kinda like a DRD. Only furry," he added under his breath, and moved on before Deke could question that.
"The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.""Who's St. Nicholas? I thought this po'm was about Santa!"
"That's another name for Santa, Deke. St. Nicholas, Santa Claus...."
"Okay."
John turned the page.
"The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads." Preemptively, he added, "Sugar-plums are sweets, like wamellan cake." He glanced at his son to see if the boy needed more clarification. That seemed to be enough, so he showed Deke the next page and continued, "
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap."Deke stuck his finger onto the accompanying picture. "What's that on his head, Dad? He looks funny!"
"That's a hat, to keep his head warm while he's sleeping. They didn't have a nice warm place like Moya to live, and it got really cold at night in the winter."
"What's winter?"
"It's the cold time of year on a planet. Do you want to hear this story or not?"
"Yes, Daddy! I do!"
"Okay. Let's see, where was I?" John turned the page to the next picture, showing the narrator leaping from bed. "
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash."Deke tugged on his arm again. "What's a window?"
"It's kinda like Moya's viewscreen. It lets light into a building, and lets you see out. But you can open it, so you can see out better, like the man in the poem just did so he can see what's making all the noise!"
"What did he see, Daddy?"
"Well, let's turn the page and find out, huh?" Deke nodded emphatically, and John continued for several pages as Santa and his reindeer came into the picture. John couldn't resist putting on his best Ho-Ho-Ho Santa voice as St. Nick called the reindeer by name:
"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!""Dash away!" Deke squealed, bouncing in John's lap. "Comet and Blix-en and Donder!"
"Look at those reindeer fly!" John said, pointing at the illustration. He expected Deke to protest that reindeer couldn't really fly, but when no such protest was forthcoming, it dawned on him with an odd sense of disappointment that his son knew nothing about earth animals, and had no reason to think this was unusual. He'd have to do something about the boy's education! But, that was for another time, and he turned the page and continued reading.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.At this dramatic moment, Deke demanded, "What's a chimery?"
Restraining his frustration, John pointed to the brick structure in the picture. "That's a fireplace, where people burn wood so they can be warm. A part of the fireplace goes up to the roof to let the smoke out, and that's called a chimney. Santa came down the chimney from the roof."
"Does the chimery have a ladder like Moya's tiers?"
"Nope, it's just a big ol' hole."
"Then why did Santa come down it? Couldn't he come in the door?"
"'Cos that's how Santa comes, Deke!" John said, his voice a little sharper than he intended. "Should I read the rest of the story or not?"
"Yes, Daddy," Deke said meekly, and John ruffled the boy's hair in apology.
The poem continued on, describing St. Nicholas/Santa Claus in all his chubby, bearded, chimney-dropping glory. Deke listened, wide-eyed. John wasn't sure how much of the description he understood, but he definitely got the next part:
"He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.""Presents...." Deke breathed. "Santa brought presents!"
"He sure did! That's what Santa does every Christmas Eve!"
Nearing the end of the poem, John rushed through the last lines as Santa put his finger aside of his nose and rose up the chimney again and then climbed into his sleigh.
"But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight ,'Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!'" he finished with a flourish.
Deke bounced on his lap. "Happy Christmas to all! Happy Christmas to all! Happy Christmas to all!" He bounced again and giggled, "Happy happy Christmas!"
John was just congratulating himself that the new catch phrase wasn't, "God bless us, every one," when Aeryn interrupted.
"I thought it was Merry Christmas."
She had a point. "Um...yeah, well, that is what we usually say where I come from. But I know they say 'Happy Christmas' in Britain and Australia and places like that."
"I thought it was an American poem?"
"Um...."
Deke interrupted before they could get too deep into a linguistic discussion. "Dad?"
"Yeah, sport."
"How can Santa bring me presents?"
"Santa goes everywhere, Son."
"But we don't have a chimery."
"Chimney," John corrected automatically, thinking frantically for an answer. What had they told Bobby when he asked the same question? "Old Santa's magic, Deke. He goes everywhere good little children are waiting for him. I bet he can come in through the docking bay just as easily as a chimney."
"Oh." That worked for about 50 microts, and then the boy asked anxiously, "How can Santa breathe if his sleigh is out in space?"
John stared at him, thinking. He'd almost forgotten Aeryn was in the room, and her voice startled him, as did her words.
"Santa has a spacesuit, D'Argo. Like Daddy and I wear when we have to go outside Moya."
Relief washed over Deke's face. "Oh," he breathed. "But what about the reindeer?" he asked a microt later, searching his mother's eyes.
Aeryn hated lying. The second lie came harder than the first, but she managed it. "The reindeer have spacesuits too," she assured him. John hoped to hezmana that Deke couldn't read her as well as he could....
"Oh," he breathed again. He was obviously having difficulty trying to picture eight tiny reindeer with helmets over their antlers, but the smile on his face was huge.
John decided it was time to cut this off before any more difficult questions arose. "Time for bed, Deke, so Santa can do his job!"
Aeryn stood up as Deke hopped off John's lap onto the floor. "Come on, then," she said, reaching a hand out. She waited briefly while Deke got a goodnight kiss from his old man, and then shepherded him down the corridor to his room.
While she was gone, John dug Deke's and Aeryn's presents out from their hiding places there in the center chamber, and arranged them under the make-shift tree. He was just finishing when Aeryn arrived back with another package or two, presumably for John, rather than their son. She added them to the pile and stood back and admired their work. The lights twinkled, and the brightly-colored packages were oh-so-tempting. The reflections from Moya's golden walls added a warm glow to the whole scene.
John stepped up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. "He's gonna love this in the morning. If he even sleeps tonight. I never could. I was always too excited about Santa coming."
"He takes after me, then. Best to be rested up for whatever happens next." She twisted her head to look at him. "He's sound asleep already."
"Which means he's going to be up bright and early." John abandoned the topic of their son and kissed Aeryn's neck. After trailing a few kisses across her shoulder, he murmured, "That was a real good thing you did there. The spacesuits," he clarified. That had been quick thinking on her part, though she probably could have gotten away with just saying reindeer could breathe in space.
Aeryn leaned back in his arms. "He wants to believe. You've said he'll outgrow it."
There was a whole lot of trust in those few words, and John felt it in every fiber of his body. The love was so strong, it took his breath away. He turned Aeryn around in his arms and kissed her. When they came up for air, he said softly, "Thank you."
"You owe me," she said with a soft snort.
He grinned and bent down and kissed her again, more deeply this time. Reveling in the feel and taste of the woman he loved, he felt heat stir in his body, and answering fire rolled off her. He pulled back for a microt and said, "I believe I have another present for you here."
"Is it big?" Aeryn asked, her voice husky with desire.
"Really big," John assured her with a smirk, and slipped his hand under her shirt.
"Here? What about Santa?"
"He can get his own girl."
Aeryn laughed, a deep, throaty laugh, and they began to peel off their clothes. More than one kind of Happy Christmas would be had on Moya tonight....
Author
