| Subject: Christmas Nigh; Adeste Fi! - Part 11/25 |
Author:
Teacup
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 07:02:11 07/11/07 Wed
In reply to:
Teacup (aka Ever-Xmas)
's message, "Christmas Nigh; Adeste Fi!" on 23:51:19 06/30/07 Sat
Christmas Nigh; Adeste Fi!
Part 11
Bud stood at the sink washing up some of the dishes from dinner.
Harriet entered the kitchen, declaring, “I finally got AJ in bed. He’s too wound up to sleep.”
“I can understand that,” said Bud. “There’s hardly a more exciting time for a little boy than Christmas Eve. The extra people in the house, the decorations all over, and of course, waiting for Santa and whatever surprises Christmas brings.”
Harriet leaned against the counter near her husband. “We certainly got our surprise this year, didn’t we? … Delivered by Mr. Claus, himself.” She still couldn’t believe that it was a doctor completely dressed up as Santa who gave them the good, but unexpected, news that they were having another baby.
“We sure did,” Bud agreed with a huge, goofy smile, emanating with pride. After a few seconds, he looked over at his wife with a meaningful gaze. “… I’m happy, Harriet. Really happy.”
“Me too,” said Harriet, placing her hand on Bud’s arm. They shared a moment, before Harriet’s stomach growled. “… And hungry,” she added. “Where’s that leftover pie that Colonel MacKenzie brought?”
“Uh, on the counter over there,” Bud pointed to the area on the other side of the room.
“Great. … The rest of those dishes can just soak for tonight, Bud,” she told him. “You want a slice?” she asked, now standing over the dessert.
“Sure,” he answered, “I’ll get the whipped cream.”
Harriet cut two slices of pie and put them each on the kitchen table. Bud meanwhile dried his hands, limped over to the refrigerator, and then walked back to the table shaking a can of whipped cream.
“I love this stuff,” he said, his eyes aglitter like a child. Bud sat down and proceeded to try to top off his pie. But the can just made a hissing noise and only spluttered out a few traces of white splats.
“That’s weird,” said Bud, shaking the can more. “It feels full.”
He pushed the nozzle again over the pie, but the cream still did not come out. He shook it a third time, and when it still did not spray, he leaned his head down to see if he could identify the problem with the nozzle. Suddenly, a burst of cream exploded out of the can, splurting its whiteness all over, but mostly hitting Bud in his face.
Harriet laughed. “Sometimes you’re as bad as little AJ,” she remarked with humor as she got up to get a towel.
Bud couldn’t help laughing too while he started wiping cream off of himself with his fingers and licking the sweet substance.
“You’re just spreading it,” Harriet lightly scolded. “Here,” she indicated that he should let her take over. She began using the wetted towel to clean the cream off of his shirt. Then she moved to clean his face, starting with the one spot that had hit just above his eye. Then she abruptly stopped before getting to the splotches and smears on his cheeks and chin.
“Actually, …” She paused to take a good look at him, and she quickly became inspired. She didn’t finish the sentence, but put the towel down, picked up the abandoned can, and sprayed some cream in the palm of her hand. Then, with two fingers of her other hand, she dabbed into the cream and began spreading it on Bud’s face … above his lip and on his chin.
“Harriet, what are you doing?” Bud asked with surprise, licking what was dripping from his upper lip.
“Seeing what you’d look like with a beard and moustache,” she replied, as she finished adding more to his cheeks and another layer above his lip to replace what Bud’s tongue had confiscated.
“There,” she declared as she finished her artistry. She backed up to admire her work. “It’s cute,” she said with a giggle.
“I must look like Santa Claus,” said Bud. He liked it when Harriet got a little silly.
“Well, it is Christmas,” she rationalized, wiping her hands on the towel.
“So it is,” Bud agreed, before quickly pulling his wife down on his lap.
“Bud!” exclaimed Harriet with delighted surprise. Then she repeated his name, but this time with concern about hurting his leg.
“It’s ok,” Bud assured her.
“You sure?”
“Of course.” Taking on a deep, fake Santa voice, Bud added, “Santa’s sure about everything.”
Harriet laughed at Bud’s impression.
He continued the act in the same low, gruff tone, “Now, tell Santa what you want for Christmas.”
Harriet thought for a moment, before answering. “I have everything I could want – a wonderful, loving husband who I am lucky enough to have with me today … and who I am so proud of.”
Bud knew she was referring to the fact that he had almost been killed by a landmine that year. Her pride for him was probably due to how he was overcoming the loss of his leg in that explosion.
Harriet continued, “We have little AJ, who’s healthy and happy and who amazes me more everyday. We have plenty of food and enough money, … or we will” she amended, “when the payment system gets straightened out.”
“We’ve got a very nice new house,” Bud added in his own voice, acknowledging that he was happy with their home despite the fact that Harriet bought it without telling him.
“Yes,” she agreed, appreciating his concession. “… And I have a new life growing inside of me, – one that you,” she paused and, pretending he was Santa again, rephrased, “my husband and I created with love.” She wiped up some of the cream running down his neck.
Bud was smiling broadly again. “He’s a pretty lucky guy, – your husband,” Bud said in the third person, but without the Santa voice.
“We’re lucky he’s still alive,” said Harriet very seriously.
Bud’s response, entirely as himself, was somewhat somber. “Even without a leg.”
“That doesn’t matter,” said Harriet sternly. “… Not to me … Not to who you are in this world,” she reassured.
Bud knew he was indeed one lucky man to have such a supportive woman as his wife. “I love you, Harriet.”
She smiled. “I love you too, … Santa.” As she added the new nickname she wiggled his nose between her thumb and finger.
Bud chuckled and a section of cream began sliding down his neck.
“Ooh, you’re dripping,” Harriet noticed and caught the substance with her hand. Licking it from her fingers, she said, “You’re right, this whipped cream is great stuff.”
She sprayed more out and began reapplying his snowy ‘beard.’ She suddenly got a glint in her eyes, and suggestively asked, “I wonder what kind of other fun we could have with this?”
“Harriet!” Bud was shocked that his wife was implying what he thought she was implying, as she slowly licked her fingers clean.
“What?” she asked with mock innocence.
“I …,” Bud recovered some, “… think you’re being naughty,” he teased.
“But, I bet it would be nice,” Harriet countered with a giggle.
More cream slid off Bud’s chin down his neck. “Oh,” Harriet laughed at the mess as she grabbed for a napkin on the table.
Bud had long since removed his tie for the night and opened his shirt collar, so the soft, white trail easily slid its way down the inside of his shirt. Harriet undid one more of his buttons to clean up the cream that had oozed down to his lower neck.
It was Bud’s turn to giggle. “That tickles!”
“What, this?” Harriet teased her husband by purposefully using the edge of the napkin to tickle him under his ‘beard.’
“Yes, that!” Bud laughed.
She stopped, and the couple smiled at each other for a moment until Harriet leaned in and kissed Bud on the mouth, not caring about the whipped cream that would get on her in the process.
“Eww, Mommy!” a voice from the hall protested.
Harriet quickly pulled away from Bud, both parents blushing with embarrassment.
“AJ!” exclaimed Harriet, as she quickly stood up and wiped off the cream that had transferred to her face from Bud’s. “What are you doing out of bed?”
Instead of answering, AJ cocked his head and took a good look at his father. Then he laughed. “Daddy, you look like Santa Claus,” the little boy declared.
Harriet, trying to recover from being caught by their son, explained, “Mommy and Daddy were just playing.”
“Can I play too?” asked AJ in earnest. “I wanna be Santa Claus.”
Bud was now using a clean napkin to wipe off his face, while Harriet told AJ, “You need to go to bed or the real Santa won’t come tonight.”
“But I want some cream,” AJ pouted.
“Not tonight,” Harriet sighed.
“But …”
“AJ, listen to your mom,” said Bud. “Santa won’t stop here if you’re still awake.”
AJ groaned, but relented. “Ok. … But you guys need to go to bed too,” he pointed out.
Harriet looked at her son. “Believe me, sweetheart, … Mommy and Daddy were just about to take each other to bed.” The look in her eye for the brief moment she glanced over at her husband let Bud know exactly how they were going to be celebrating tonight.
-----
TBC ...
---
A/N: Hey, Bud and Harriet deserve a little romance too! I’m hoping you all caught the big Christmas reference in this chapter. Anyway, the next part is back to Harm and Mac.
~ Teacup
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 