A/N: This will be a two-shot, with the second part (yet unwritten) posted closer to Christmas. Possibly on the day itself. It depends on when I write it.
"I know we had a big fight," she says, meeting his eyes defiantly as she sets the box of Christmas decorations down on the table in front of him, "but we still need to decorate the house for the holidays."
"Christine—" Raoul attempts, but she cuts him off with a glare.
"Not another word on the matter. I am going to perform, and that's that, and nothing you can say will change my mind on it. They've asked me, and it's a great honour, and I know you want me here that night, but it's for the best that I do it." Her piece said, she begins taking tinsel out of the box. The tree will have to go up before she can hang any of it on, but she needs to take it out and untangle it. The tinsel is always getting tangled and it's so—so frustrating to have to deal with it every year. Someone should just go and invent some way to keep it from getting like this, the red and green all a knotted mess with the gold and the silver and the blue. At least the baubles know how to behave themselves, but there is no way for baubles to get tangled, only smashed or broken. And smashed or broken baubles are simply a part of life but there is no use in tangled tinsel.
The lights will be another battle. But she might leave them to Raoul, as punishment for his attempts at intervention. Serves him right for trying to persuade her out of performing. But, darling, it's our first married Christmas together. But darling, we should spend the evening together. But darling there'll be next year to perform, and the year after. But darling but darling but darling over and over and she could not tell him that she will not be able to perform next year, or the year after. She could not tell him, because then she would have to tell him the reason why, and she is saving that as a surprise for Christmas Day itself.
He will be pleased with it. And excited. She can almost see the way his eyes will light up already…
"Okay, Christine." He sighs, drawing her back to the present, to the tinsel still knotted in her hands. "Okay. If you want to perform, then that's fine. I don't mind. I just thought it would be nice, but if this is what you want then I'll support you."
She leans over the box of decorations, and kisses him gently on the cheek. "It is what I want. Oh, it is."