This is my part for the Banna Secret Santa Exchange- Merry Christmas lemacd123! Modern AU including a certain little Baby Bates. This idea had plagued me since I walked past my old junior school's reception children in their nativity costumes, and a little bit of me died inside with their cuteness. I hope you enjoy this.
"It just won't sit right!" Anna huffed, wiping her hand across her forehead before returning to the problem at hand, pinching and pinning the swathes of fabric that were currently swamping a bemused Esme.
"Anna, take a break, love. Dinner will get cold," John sighed from the doorway, arms folded, watching his beloved wife work herself into a flap. A safety pin was produced, material gathered and the model gently steered to turn around.
"But if I can just pin this section to the belt, I could-" Anna trailed off, frowning and trying once more to get Esme to turn, "Esme, sweetheart, be a love and turn for Mamma."
"Mamma, no more!" she pouted, pulling away, "no more costume!"
"Esme…" Anna warned, trying once more to get her daughter to twist round and allow her to put into place the final adjustment of the evening (or at least until John nodded off and she crept downstairs again). But the little model had had enough.
"No!" Esme shouted, shaking her head and sitting on the floor in a huff. That was the end of that, then (she was her mother's daughter, after all).
"You got told," John smirked from his place against the doorframe. Anna exhaled loudly and sat back on the sofa. There were certainly no more alterations happening tonight.
"It's not funny," she scolded, "We shouldn't let her have her way all the time. She's going to have to share us in a few months, you know." She smiled at the implication, her hand lightly ghosting her stomach, and her husband mirrored her smile.
"She's hardly getting her way. You've been trying to alter that costume for the best part of an hour. She's three, I'm sure 'her way' would have been a twirl around in it for five minutes and then go and play again." He moved over to join his wife on the sofa. Esme watched warily, before scampering to the other side of the room to be out of her mother's fashion clutches, glad for her father's distraction.
"And I'm sure she'll learn to share us just fine," he added, as she rested her head on his shoulder, tiredness suddenly taking over.
"I'm just excited for her first nativity," Anna reasoned.
"I know you are, as am I. But that room is going to be full of first nativities. I'm sure Esme's costume is only really important to us. And it's already perfect for me."
Anna glared at him playfully.
"Are you saying that no-one else is going to look at her on stage? That's hardly fair."
"Perish the thought, love," he chuckled, kissing the crown of her head, "our girl is going to be the star of the show. Not a soul shall forget the masterful single line and superb costume of the one and only Second Camel."
At that Anna groaned, her head flopping back on the sofa, and shielded her eyes.
"Please, don't remind me."
Anna (and indeed John) had been so very excited for Esme's first nativity, clamouring to make her costume where most other parents dreaded the task. Nothing like a bit of forced religion, as Anna had put it. She had talked of nothing but sparkly angel dresses. He had dreamt of their little girl with a tinsel headband and a star. There was always the unspoken wish of the pale blue dress and white scarf of Mary, but neither was brave enough to voice it.
The day Anna knew the nativity letter was coming home was the first time John had seen Anna happy to send Esme into nursery of a morning. He'd had to convince Anna that nursery was the next step to take with Esme in the first place. She was a bright young thing, talking in full sentences much faster than either of them had anticipated, aching to take in more of the world. An evening once a fortnight with George and even less frequently with Sybbie was not enough exposure to children of her own age.
They had quarreled.
Anna had argued that soon they'd have another child in the house.
(ah yes, Esme will pick up things from a newborn)
He had countered that it would therefore be easier when the baby came for there to sometimes be some quiet in the house.
(quiet with a newborn, of course John)
Anna had cried at that.
(did he really want to send their daughter away?)
John had comforted her.
(it was the very last thing he wanted) and they had both cried together on Esme's first morning.
The day of the 'nativity reveal', as Anna had taken to calling it, John returned home to find Anna sat at the kitchen table, shoulders hunched over and head in her hands, all hopes of sparkly dresses gone.
"So?" he asked eagerly, walking over to kiss the top of her head and sitting down next to her, "What did she get? A star? An angel?" Anna shook her head in response, her head still in her hands.
"Oh my goodness, she got Mary didn't she? I knew it! I never wanted to say it in case I jinxed anything but we were both thinking it weren't we? I can't believe that our daughter-"
"John!" Anna moaned, interrupting him, "No she didn't get Mary, or an angel, or a star."
John was stunned. What else was there, again? "Is she the innkeeper's wife? Or the innkeeper for that matter- it's the 21st century after all, and her nursery seems quite modern. In fact, she could just as easily be a Wise Man, or Joseph, I don't mind, it would still be-" he was cut off once more by his wife.
"Just stop it, John." She turned to look at him, her eyes sad and lips pursed.
"Well, then. What is she?"
"She's…well she's with her friend Lola and that's all that matters, the girls are becoming inseparable."
"That doesn't answer the question. What is Esme's role, love?" he questioned, wondering what could be so terrible as to have Anna so upset. He blanched, and ran a hand through his hair. Oh God, please don't let her be the donkey.
"Anna- she's not the donkey, is she?" Anna shook her head and buried it back into her hands, whispering a few muffled words.
"I didn't quite catch that." He said worriedly, as he began to stroke her hair. She pushed the letter towards him and so he read, sitting back in his chair in shock once he had finished.
"Second Camel?!" he couldn't help the sudden roll of laughter that escaped him. "Esme's the Second Camel? Not even the first?" he began to laugh again, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes, "I bet there wasn't even a camel in the stable. And they have at least two!"
Anna looked dismayed at his reaction.
"She was going to look so beautiful in an angel dress and now she's stuck with being a camel. A camel!" She really was taking this to heart, he noticed.
"Love, it's just a nursery nativity. She's three. We still have plenty more opportunities for her to be an angel."
"But it's her first nativity!"
"Well, we've had our first shot at a first nativity and we missed. She's still going to be beautiful up on stage because she's our little girl. And plus, we still have at least another first nativity to go," as if to make a point he leant over to cradle the slight swell of her abdomen gently. She smiled up at him, bright eyes sparkling and her small hand covering his, before her expression suddenly turned to one of horror and she threw her head back into her hands.
"I even bought some silver tinsel for a halo or headband!" At that John couldn't help but laugh again, and Anna's indignant frown soon disappeared as she took in her husband's mirth. Perhaps…well perhaps Second Camel wouldn't be so bad. Certainly a story for the grandchildren.
"Anna, you've got to laugh. She's Second Camel for crying out loud. Camel!" at that he dissolved back into laughter, and Anna felt the tug of smile. Second Camel indeed.
"I still don't understand why she couldn't be First Camel, you know," Anna remarked, turning into her husband's embrace.
"But then poor old Lola would have to be second, and we know that she doesn't take that well. We must do what Lola's parents have not, and teach our daughter to be good at being any camel," he chuckled.
Esme had been watching her parents on the sofa with little interest (for teddies are much more exciting, as many three year olds know), but at her mother's apparent anguish she skipped back over (ochre costume fluttering around her waist) to sit next to her.
"Don't be sad Mamma," she said anxiously, patting her mother's hand.
"Mamma isn't sad, don't worry little love," John reassured her, "she just wants your costume to be as perfect as it can be, even if that means altercations on a brown sack." Anna hit his chest lightly in response, turning to Esme and putting her arm around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Thank you, sweetheart. I promise you I'm not really sad. How can I be sad when I have you?"
"And the baby!" Esme added, tapping Anna's bump gently.
"And the baby," Anna nodded, John throwing her a smug look as if to say 'see? Sharing us won't be a problem.'
"You can do alter-altertatuns on my costume if you want Mamma," Esme began, both her parents smiling at her toddler trip-ups, but before Anna could get too eager Esme continued, "if I can have sparkly tinsel with the costume like you said."
John winced. Tinsel was a sore point.
Anna rolled her eyes. "Believe me, sweetheart, I wish you could have tinsel too."
I really struggled with the title, so I ended up naming it from a song we sang in my Year 1 nativity. Yes, I remember that sort of thing. There was a camel in our nativity, and we had to invent a sound for it.
"When Jesus was born out in Bethlehem there was a sheep, there was a donkey (ee-aw), there was a camel (bbrrrrhhh), there was a sheep… (baa)"
This ended up being a lot shorter than I intended, so I might post a part 2 at some point. Lemacd deserves it, and would have had much more if my brain wasn't being stubborn, especially after their wonderful fic yesterday (which you should all read because it's one of my favourites ever).