To the best of friends: Jay and Emmy, co-conspirators in crime and the best internet friends a girl could ask for.
This is a sequel to "I Discovered You" and "Our Christmas".
The Next Christmas,
By Quaxo
***///***///***
Years of instincts have trained him to awaken instantly at the familiar buzz of a pager. His hand shoots out from underneath the comforter, fumbling on the nightstand for his pager --- cursing silently and praying that Jack hasn't dropped it in the toilet again.
"Sorry," JD whispers, kissing his temple before rolling out of bed. "Go back to sleep, I'll see you tonight."
He grunts, palm flattening against the nightstand as he remembers he doesn't have a pager anymore.
He pretends to sleep as he listens to JD pull on his scrubs, listening to the sighing as JD looks at the time (3:30 AM, he knows, peering through his eyelashes at the alarm clock that is positioned on his night side table), before shuffling out into the living room.
He waits several moments after JD closes the front door before pushing off the blanket and rolling out of bed.
There's no use in trying to sleep, not with the adrenaline pumping into his veins readying his body to rip the head off the intern that called him out for something as stupid as how much Tylenol to give a patient that's rapidly circling the drain right beside them. The instinct hasn't gone away, even all these months later.
He goes into the kitchen quietly, treading softly even though he knows that there's no one to wake up. Jack, Jenny and Sam are all staying with Jordan down the hall and JD is obviously gone. Still, habits of a lifetime…
He starts a pot of coffee, washing up the remaining dishes in the sink as he waits for the pot to fill, eyes catching on all the things he'll have to clean up before the party tonight. Children's toys are everywhere still despite the fact that Jordan's had them since yesterday morning.
Then there's the pile of paperwork that's been dominating the dining room table for the last few months. Stacks of application packets in various states of completion for other local hospitals (even some farther away, not that he was telling JD that yet…), locum tenens' companies, medical schools --- even loan paperwork and specs to open his own clinic (somewhere in a lower class neighborhoods that needed assistance; if he had to go private practice he wasn't going to become a sellout like Barbie).
All possibilities trapped in pen and ink... waiting for someone else to give approval. He hadn't been this nervous and dependent on some faceless unknown authority since he was waiting for his medical school applications to come back --- or waiting to be matched with an internship ---
He wasn't supposed to be this close to fifty and starting his career all over again. He was supposed to be---
He knew better, at one point in his life, than to be disappointed when things didn't turn out how they 'should have' .
The timer on the coffee pot dings, pulling him from his reverie. He pours himself a mug, deciding to take on the children's toys first.
***///***///***
Despite waking early his schedule is packed. Jordan is giving him Jack for the day while she goes to the salon with the twins, promising she'll help decorate later (which means she'll show up five minutes before the party, take a seat on the couch and declare the decoration complete with her presence, which is also his present).
They'd given up trying to find the rest of JD's Christmas decorations, and he's so-ho-ho-hoooo not looking forward to the madness of the local shopping center so he can buy the matching holiday themed Christmas plates and party favors because apparently their regular dishes just aren't good enough.
He's still got to vacuum the furniture and the curtains, polish the floor, deep vacuum the carpet, dust the furniture, set up the kids area and pick up the big surprise for all the kiddies (that thing better be ready and spotless too, they'd had months to prepare).
Then of course, he has to pick up JD's mother from the airport. He's feeling the slightest bit of something he might describe as sympathy for what JD must have gone through a few years back, picking up Paige from the airport.
Of course Paige wasn't nearly so scary; her devotion to Jesus prevented her from murdering JD and dumping his body in long term parking until they discovered it a month later. Perry wasn't sure he had any promises from Ms. Dorian-or-whatever-she-was-calling-herself-now. There surely had to be a reason JD hadn't brought her around before, and he didn't exactly have the greatest track record with in-laws. Jordan's mother still kept up that restraining order, ten years later…
Then of course he needs to get the food prepared for the guests. JD had pouted when he'd insisted on getting a caterer for some of it… but just because he can cook more than a can of Dinty Moore and pancakes doesn't mean he's capable of cooking a feast for twelve people on his own… especially in their small kitchen.
He checks the temperature on the stove again (absolutely nothing worse than a dry turkey, god Jordan's mother could never handle criticism well, no guesses needed for who Jordan got that from …), trying to decide whether to start cleaning now, or brave the chaos that is last minute holiday shopping early and hope that the madness is at a dull roar instead of full blast.
Of course, if the crowds were as bad as he thought they were going to be--- and they probably were ---
Sighing to himself he gets out the Armor-All and the vacuum, prepared to do battle against the crumbs in between the cushions of the couch. If he finds a single French fry he's going to kick JD's ass---
***///***///***
It's ten o'clock before Jordan manages to bring Jack by, and not before she's loaded him up on candy, judging from the bright pink smears around his mouth. He just got finished with the drapes too…
"I hate you…" He grumbles, placing Jack up on his hip to prevent his sticky fingers from getting on the carpet (when did he get so heavy?).
"Merry Christmas to you too," Jordan snorts, raising eyebrow as she peers about the mess of the apartment. "If you're still looking for work, I'll pay you ten bucks an hour to clean my apartment like this---"
"Naaawwwwt interested, I've seen how you treat the maid," He says, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. If he didn't find a job soon though, he's forced to admit, he just might take her up on it just to get out of the damned apartment.
"What do you think the five extra bucks were for? Besides, it wasn't like I was throwing phones at the woman…" She scoffs, looking up at him through her eyelashes in a way that is uncharacteristically earnest. "How is the job search going, by the way?"
He bites back a sigh at the question, the only question that anyone seems to want to ask him, never satisfied with his answer of 'I don't know' and always giving him some variation of a pitying look afterward.
"As well as to be expected in a shi---" He notices Jordan's eyes flick to Jack, who's staring up at him attentively, "As well as to be expected in a bad economy."
"Well, don't get too used to being Mr. Housewife, you'll never want to leave---" Jordan remarks, not unkindly, glancing at her watch. "The nanny has Jenny and Sam, I'll be at the salon until three---"
"Y'know, you'll never get a man at your age if you insist on being so high maintenance---"
Jordan swats his arm playfully, shooting him an evil look.
"You're one to talk, I know exactly where my curling iron went, and it wasn't the dumpster---" She brushes her cheek up against his in an unexpected gesture. "See you at the party tonight."
She turns, striding down the hallway towards the elevator, pulling her parka closer, although why she thought she needed it in 50 degree weather---
"Keep it up and everyone's going to know that you've got a heart underneath all that steel---"
The gesture Jordan uses in response has him covering Jack's eyes.
"Your mother is definitely on the naughty list."
Jack giggles, slapping his sticky hand against Perry's neck.
"She gonna get coal in her stocking?"
"You betcha. And she'll take that lump of coal, clench it in her iron fist and guess what?"
"What?"
"She'll turn it into a diamond."
"Nuh uh! That can't happen!"
"You have a lot to learn about geology… c'mon let's get you cleaned up before you ruin the couch."
***///***///***
As he predicted (god, why is he so brilliant?), the stores, as well as the parking lots and streets, are complete insanity… Insipid Christmas songs that sounded like they were sung by overly perky teenagers on methamphetamines were nearly blowing out the speakers in his car in an attempt to prevent Jack from learning a whole new set of words to his vocabulary.
He sticks to the outlying areas of the parking lot; it's closer to the freeway exit and there isn't the fight for parking spots like there is closer to the building. The walk would be good too ---
Jack isn't happy to be carried, ("'m not a BAY-BEE!") but he wasn't going to stay in this insane asylum any longer than he had to, and Jack's legs just weren't long enough to keep up yet. Soon he's going to be too heavy for me to carry for long… Promises of a stop off at McDonald's afterwards are the only thing that prevents him from going completely deaf in one ear before he gets into the store.
He wonders, sometimes, who Jack will take after physically. Jack's inherited his eyes and hair color, but his own recollection of what he looked like at Jack's age is fuzzy, and there aren't many pictures of him to compare to. He'll probably be tall --- Jordan, after all, wasn't exactly what you'd call a midget; it'd be a tossup between his own broader frame and the slighter one from the Sullivan side--- Tall and slender like Ben wouldn't be so bad.
He notices Jack looking up with solemn eyes, and forces his expression to brighten.
"You ready to face the mob, Jack?"
Inside the store the aisles are crammed with shoppers fighting over the last rolls of Christmas wrapping, complaining loudly that the cheapo video camera they absolutely had to have wasn't available the day before Christmas. There had to be at least twenty kids screaming their heads off within the store.
He's tempted to turn right back around and forget the plates and party favors, this place is worse than the ER on Halloween or the Fourth of July--- He can feel his shoulders stiffening at the sight of so many people wildly careening about the place like pinballs in a machine…
"Get the plates with the snowmen on them; you'll see what I mean when you get there."
Except JD would have an epic sulk over not having the right plates, and really, it's nothing he can't handle, a few people. It's probably not even as bad as he thinks it is…
He loads Jack into one of the last carts available, taking a deep breath as dives into the sea of last minute shoppers.
It's not like they don't know Christmas is coming--- it's on the same damn day every year! All it takes is a little bit of forethought --- but who am I kidding? People? Acting reasonably? Not in my lifetime---
He grits his teeth as he stands trapped in a gridlock of carts in aisles worse than the traffic on the highway to get here. People browsing --- browsing! --- at this late hour --- not that he wasn't guilty of the same thing just a little bit, waiting this long to buy the plates for dinner --- but at least he knew what he wanted!
He growls under his breath as something barely brushes his shoulder --- only to see a young woman turn her head to mouth 'Sorry' before continuing on a series nimble dodges, turns and twists around various shopping carts, one small package under her arm as quickly makes her way towards the checkout lines. He looks on with envy while the woman in front of him dawdles in front of an end cap crammed with discount perfumes--- picking up one box, before putting it down and taking another--- then putting it down and---
"Hey lady! Move it!"
It takes him a second, and the woman's evil glare, for him to realize that he hadn't just imagined saying that to her---
Jack, half turned around in his seat in the cart, mouth open to fire off yet another remark---
"Jack," He says firmly, watching as Jack whips around to look at him, face surprised. "You don't talk to adults like that."
"But---!"
"No buts. You're not old enough to talk to people like that yet," He raises an eyebrow at the woman, who looks mildly horrified by their conversation. "Not that the sentiments aren't valid."
The woman huffs, mutters something under her breath about "some people's kids" and moves on. He does his best not to smirk at Jack, because god knows the kid doesn't need encouraging-- Jack's a blend of both Jordan and himself --- they'll be doomed by the time Jack gets to his teenager years if they let him get away with back talking now.
"When do I get to talk like that?"
"In twenty years," He replies flatly, chuckling at the aggrieved look Jack gives him, lower lip jutting out.
"Not fair…,"Jack mumbles under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I know," He says in a rare moment of indulgence, ruffling Jack's hair.
Slowly they make their way back to the home goods section, and he finally sees for himself the plates that JD had decreed to be perfect for the occasion. He could hardly miss the eyesores with deep blue metallic paint like that on Christmas balls, decorated with raised snowmen throwing snow balls, snowflakes and Christmas trees on the rim.
He can see why JD loves it --- all the kitschy crap he adores crammed into one plate --- and Perry instantly hates the sight of them; even more so when he thinks of them in his house---
He spots a set of dark blue normal dishes, dishes that would be usable all year round instead of once a year --- dishes that didn't look they would give the whole dinner party lead poisoning even if the sticker on the back said that they were safe to eat off of.
He set the plain dishes in the cart, grumbling a little as he sees the price tag. All he has to do now is find some party favors---
"I thought Papi wanted the ones with the snowmens," Jack asks, eyebrow raised up in scrutiny and a glare that is completely his mother's.
He is faced with two options at this point: Tell the truth and have Jack rat him out to JD when he lies and says the store was out, or buy the damn plates, or --- Maybe if he just got a few that'd be enough to keep JD happy? A few he could tolerate, a dinnerware service for twelve? Never.
"You want to help me pick three out?"
After several minutes Jack finds three that meet his exacting standards of whatever he's determined that the plate should look like. He's not sure he can see much of a difference, but Jack seems pleased, and JD will be---
Fortunately the party favors are only a few aisles over and he manages to snatch a few things without his arm being ripped off by some juiced up soccer mom. He even manages to find a checker with their wits still about them that keeps the line moving at a fair pace.
He's headed out to the car, cursing himself for parking so far away as the cart wheels catch on every crack, rock, and dip in the pavement, when he gets the phone call.
***///***///***
He's at work when he gets the phone call--- Normally he'd ignore it, because he's in the middle of rounds with his interns, with a patient in fact--- A glance at the caller ID has him stepping out into the hall.
"Hey, mom! How was your flight?"
"The flight was great, darling! I had the most wonderful discussion with this doctor who does missionary work down in South Africa. You should go down there some time---"
"Mom, I've got three kids, I can hardly be going off to the middle of nowhere to practice some backwoods medicine, even if it does sound awesome---" I wonder if Perry would be okay with me changing my name to Livingstone just until I got back?
"Your boyfriend has three kids; surely he and his ex-wife can handle them for a little while."
He lets out a laugh as he pictures the scene that would unfold if he ever tried to leave them with all three kids. It'd be a tossup between who got to him first --- Perry would just lock him in the apartment, Jordan would probably strap him to the bed and use a sledge hammer to hobble him---
"I'll think about it, Mom. I'm glad you had a nice flight, but I got to get back to work--- If there's something you need, Perry can---"
"--- About that… what does Perry look like again?"
A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells him that his mother's plane landed over an hour ago--- Where the HELL was Perry?
"It's nothing, sweetheart, I'm sure he probably got caught in traffic somewhere, you know how California drivers are---"
It was cute, seeing that she had never been to California in her life, how she thought she knew the roads. Perry, however, had been living her for the last twenty-odd years and should know how to get to the airport, even on one of the busiest travel days of the year.
"Mom, go get a taxi---"
"Oh dear, that's too expensive, I'm sure Perry will---"
"Mom, go get a taxi and come to the hospital, I'll show you where I'm working."
"Well, if I won't be in the way---"
"No, Mom, I'm sure everyone would love to meet you; tell the driver to take you St. Vincent's, I'll see you in a bit."
"Alright, I see you in a bit. I love you," His mother coos and even the warmth that bubbles up inside of him at the sound is not enough to soothe his frustration with Perry.
He calls Perry's cell phone while all the horrible reasons Perry could be possibly be delayed run through his mind, car accident, heart attack, one of the kids is sick, a stampede at the mall, someone really tried to make a reindeer fly---
He scowls when the phone goes straight to voicemail, Perry's voice to leave a message. Hanging it up he decides that it's probably best to just text him ---
Where are you?
He changes his mind.
Don't worry about Mom.
***///***///***
It's nice to have his mother around, it gives him a chance to show off how well he's doing for himself, working as the residency director, having his devoted (and carefully chosen) students come up and pay him compliments. His mother beams as if they were paying homage to her, and in a way they are.
He doesn't get to do any really cool medical stuff like saving someone's life ---but that's probably a good thing considering how his mind really isn't here. He'd wanted Perry to be the one making a good impression on his mother --- forgetting to pick her up at the airport wasn't the best start to their relationship
He wrapped up the rounds as quickly as he could and then starts making calls. He hasn't received a phone call about an accident, so that makes it unlikely that anything catastrophic has happened (he tells himself firmly). Maybe they really are just stuck in traffic somewhere --- the car accident might not even have been theirs; Perry might just be stuck behind the wreck until the road clears.
A call to the nanny watching Jennifer and Samuel reveals that Perry dropped off Jack around noon, giving her an extra fifty dollars to watch him for the rest of the afternoon, and he apparently looked in a hurry.
Perhaps he needed to do some last minute gift shopping, or perhaps ---
Why is he even bothering trying to get into Perry's head. Obviously, whatever Perry absolutely had to do was so much more important than picking up JD's mother or spending time with Jack.
He's tried to be there for Perry, supporting him after the board let him go as Chief of Medicine after merging with Lady Providence (which, apparently, they'd been planning long before they even hired Perry). He'd hoped, perhaps selfishly, perhaps foolishly, that the whole situation would bring them closer together. That being pink-slipped from his dream job would be his opportunity to show Perry that he could lean on him, that he could trust him to care of business. That Perry didn't have to carry his burdens alone; that JD was more than capable and quite happy to do some heavy lifting in their relationship.
He liked being the "bread winner" in the family; he liked coming home to find Perry there on the couch, instead of waiting until Perry managed to drag himself home close to midnight, in a foul mood and wanting only to drink a beer and sullenly glare at the TV before heading to bed without a word.
It was better for the kids too, to have Perry around. Jack had certainly missed his father during Perry's term as Chief of Medicine.
He didn't like the person that Perry became as Chief of Medicine either. Perry's normally charmingly cantankerous personality became downright foul, leaving him seething at anyone who dare come by with an innocent question.
That sort of anger wasn't good for anyone, let alone Perry. While in excellent physical shape (which he would happily attest to), Perry was still closer to fifty than forty, and high stress, poor sleeping and dietary habits were a winning combination for an early heart attack. Sure Perry's last physical had shown only slightly elevated blood pressure, but how many men had he seen come rolling through the ICU never to leave it because of a stroke or a heart attack while the wife sits at his bedside saying "He's too young--- He's so healthy,"?
Why couldn't Perry see how much happier he was --- how happy everyone was when he wasn't working so hard?
Perry didn't even have to give up medicine completely – just scale back – join some boutique medicine group, who would undoubtedly be thrilled to have 2006's City's Best Doctor working for them. Even if Perry wouldn't go for that, there were consultancies and other places that wouldn't require him to sacrifice his family for his job.
Still, Perry kept pursuing Chief of Medicine positions and the only sign that he'd even been listening to the words coming out of JD's mouth at all was his dabbling with the idea of starting his own clinic – in one of the roughest parts of town where he'd have to see about sixty patients in a ten hour day just to cover the costs of all the patients on MediCal, Medicare and those just flat out unable to pay. Owning his own clinic would, quite possibly, be worse than being a Chief of Medicine somewhere.
If only Perry would talk with him about what he was thinking! He surely had to feel humiliated for getting sucker prize from the board. The desperation he must be feeling as each application he sends out is rejected. His impending age with only fifteen more good years left in medicine, a profession he loved, before he should start thinking of retirement.
He wishes he felt like he had an influence on what jobs Perry was pursuing --- a say on anything that Perry was doing with his life, really.
Perry was going to do what he was going to do, though, and everyone else had better just get on the train or get left behind. Perry doesn't trust him, doesn't trust anyone, and nothing he can do will ever change that for Perry.
Last Christmas he'd been close to leaving, but now he just felt resigned. He was too attached to Jack, and now Jenny and Sammy to possibly consider it now – and he still loved Perry, would probably forever, but he was growing to accept the fact that Perry would never be able to love him --- to trust him --- in the same way JD did it.
He hates it, but what else is he going to do?
***///***///***
This has to be the only time in history where sleeping with a student has paid off – for him at least that is. Not so much for Dr. Rogers and his student strumpet --- but it certainly was paying off for him.
He'd applied to and interviewed at University Hospital four months ago for their Chief's position, and unsurprisingly it had gone to someone else --- he expected a bit of that honestly, a lot of Chief's were pulled out of the already existing employee pool, with the advertisement in the journals a mere formality to tell everyone that the whole thing wasn't just incest.
Apparently they'd been impressed by his interview and kept his application on file – for good reasons, not as an example of the type of applicant they weren't looking for.
He barely has time to get Jack back to the nanny and change into his best suit before making his way to the University for a final interview. On the drive over he makes a frantic call to a taxi company to pick up JD's mother – giving them the name "Mrs. Dorian" because he never did catch what her last name was – hopefully she puts it together.
The school's facilities aren't bad, about on par with what Sacred Heart used to be – the people who interview him don't seem to be complete and utter tools. They are, in fact, refreshingly honest, about the situation: they have no internist to teach the second-year med students, and he's the candidate who lived the closest. If he can get the class through the semester and through their Step 1 exams, the job is pretty much his.
It's not an offer he takes lightly; he's got three weeks to assess the student's previous performance and structure a lesson plan to prepare them for their exams without teaching to the test. He's also got to adjust the students to his teaching style – apparently Dr. Rogers was one of those grandfatherly types (obviously the pervy grandfatherly type, seeing as he ran off with some girl forty years younger than him), and looking at Roger's curriculum he can tell he's coddled them a bit too –
He's going to have to bust his ass to get them into shape---
He accepts the job, and they schedule an appointment for the next week get him approved and set up in their system.
He hadn't realized how long he'd been in there until he steps outside and notes how far the sun has set. He turns on his phone, groaning as he sees the time ---
Shit! I hope JD's mother got in the taxi—
Then he sees the text message from JD and his stomach drops.
Cocksuckermotherfuckershit.
There isn't time now to worry about JD's hurt feelings now though – obviously he managed to get his mother to their home safely, and he's got to get to the store to pick up the Christmas surprise before it closes in twenty minutes.
***///***///***
JD manages to wrap up his shift early and get home just in time to relieve the nanny of her kids. Jack, Jenny and Sammy are all napping in preparation for the party tonight, and his mother decides that the idea of a lay down doesn't seem so bad either, going back to the guest room to lay down herself.
Unfortunately, this leaves him alone to stew in his thoughts in the peace and quiet.
The house is clean, not that Perry would even think of having anyone over if the place weren't spotless, and the turkey is in the oven. The caterer's have left a message on the answering machine saying to expect them at five-thirty. The tree is twinkling merrily. There's garlands strung with candy canes on the wall, a wreath on the door, and a sprig of mistletoe hangs over the entryway to the kitchen---
Everything's perfect, but he still feels miserable, and that makes him even more miserable because he should be so happy right now. He's got three wonderful kids, he's got his health, he's got his job, he's got his friends and family around him ---
For lack of anything else to do, he pulls out some flour, eggs and sugar and begins mixing together some sugar cookies, because he doesn't have anything else to do. Mixing the ingredients together patiently, rolling out the dough onto the counter top (Perry would kill him for not putting it on wax paper, but he's not particularly concerned with what Perry would do right now).
He's just put the first batch in the oven, and adding coloring to the icing when Perry comes through the door wearing what he recognizes as Perry's interview suit. His eyes are bright, even as his face is a careful construct of neutrality.
"So what was the emergency," He asks coldly, swirling the green dye into the white cake frosting, watching the dark dye streak through the white and grow brighter---
He's surprised when Perry comes up behind him, wrapping his strong arms around his waist and kissing his neck. He leans into that embrace, warm embers sparking in his stomach even if he wants to stay angry.
"So your mom got home all right," Perry whispers in his ear – and he remembers why he's angry again, and pulls away, mixing up another bowl of red frosting.
"I got her a taxi and gave her a tour of St. Vincent's," He replies, breaking from the embrace.
"I hired a taxi to pick her up---" Perry says (a likely story!) a hint of bewilderment in his voice.
"I guess she must have missed them."
Warm arms pull him in closer again, and the kisses pressing against the back of his neck suddenly feel possessive and demanding---
"I got a job!"
Perry sounds so excited, in his own way, and he wants to be excited with him.
Except everything makes sense now – things are going to go back to the way they were. He's going to have to accept that.
"That's nice," He mutters, stepping away from Perry to retrieve cookies from the oven.
***///***///***
Evidently, not personally picking up JD's mother at the airport and chauffeuring her back to the apartment was a major offense in whatever rule book JD operated by. He'd done his best to make sure she got a ride home, but it wasn't like he could tell the University to hold off until after Christmas --- could he?
JD was upset with him, and normally he'd love to hash the whole damn thing out and get to tell his side of the story, but the caterers were buzzing to be let in, the turkey needs to be checked, place settings needed to be set up, and this wasn't the time for a screaming row when their guests were going to arrive soon.
He wakes the children up in just enough time to make sure that they won't be grumpy when the guests arrive, distracting Jack with one cookie before dinner and starting the DVD of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas!" (The animated version with Boris Karloff, not that preening buffoon Jim Carrey), and setting the twins in their rocker chairs.
Jordan is the first to arrive, coming through the children's bedrooms that connect their apartments, a bright gold bow on her shoulder.
"Well, DJ, aren't you going to ask for your present," He hears Jordan call as he bastes the turkey one last time, removing the foil so that it can brown up the skin.
"What sort of stuffing are you using --- and don't you want to baste it a little more," A quiet voice asks from behind him.
Jordan and JD know better than to question him in the kitchen --- because between them they can only make pancakes, waffles, spaghetti, and anything out of a box, so as the most accomplished cook his word is law.
JD's mom is tall and lean, like her son, the beginnings of a dowager's hump curving her shoulders in. Her hair is the exact same shade of brown as JD's, now going salt and pepper gray. Hell, they even have the same long nose. No wonder JD's such a momma's boy…
"It's homemade stuffing, Mrs. Dorian---"
"You know, I saw one of those town car companies holding up a sign looking for Mrs. Dorian! It's been so long since I've been Mrs. Dorian that I just didn't think--- well, that was sweet of you," Oh god, bite your tongue, bite your tongue!
"What do you prefer to be called?"
"Oh dear, you can call me Joan --- I'm going to take a peek at the babies and see how my baby is doing – you should still baste that turkey one last time."
Mrs. D – Joan – drifts out to the living room.
He hates meeting the in-laws --- and he doesn't baste the turkey. How is the skin supposed to get crunchy otherwise?
***///***///***
His mother comes to join him on the couch, where he's feeding a fussy Sammy his sippy cup of juice. Sammy loves his bottle, unlike Jenny who was quite eager to move over to cups. The two of them seem so very different from one another, although technically they're fraternal twins so they really don't have to anything in common.
Sammy seems to have inherited most of Jordan's hair color while Jenny will be another strawberry blonde like her brother and daddy. Of course Jenny got her mother's brown eyes, while Sammy had gotten blue eyes from his Perry's side of the family. The only unexplained feature seemed to be Sammy's nose, but Jordan's mother seemed certain that it was a trait of Ben's, and Quinn's before him.
"So, these are the babies," his mother coos, reaching out to run her fingers through Sammy's thick mop of dark brown hair.
He resists the urge to roll his eyes – his mother always refers to them as 'the' children, or 'Perry's kids', and sure, he's not their genetic father but he serves a very important function in these kids lives. Without him around they'd have parents convinced they needed to wrap them in sterile bubble wrap before going outside.
She asked him when he told her about Jordan's pregnancy with the twins whether or not he thought that Perry would ever get back together with her. He told her no, absolutely not, because they wound up driving each other nuts; even if they did make beautiful children together. He mostly felt that was the truth, most of the time.
She wasn't doing it to be cruel to him, she was doing it because she didn't understand their relationship.
The doorbell rings and he passes Sammy over to his mother before going to the door. Maybe some bonding time with the kids would endear her more to them.
He's just ready for this party to be over, and it's not even started yet.
***///***///***
The party is in full swing, and Perry's going to go ahead and prematurely declare it a success. The turkey was perfect (another basting would've left the whole thing too soggy), and sure all the guests are all still here, and sure, the spiked eggnog only came out thirty minutes ago, but there's been no screaming meltdowns and everyone seems to be getting along.
Barbie and Dolphin-Fucker were still going strong, and are making an Oscar-winning bid for "Happiest Couple". Carla had Gandhi on a short leash and in a pair of diapers, making sure he wouldn't make too much of an embarrassment of himself. Speaking of children, the kids are happily gorging themselves on cookies if they're old enough to have teeth and for those without – well how would anyone know if they were bored or not? Mrs. Dor – Joan – was deep into her cups but, like her son, she seemed to be a cheerful drunk. Jordan was being well behaved and keeping her hands to herself. Hell, even Mahoney had shown up and was currently sitting in the corner looking misty eyed as White Christmas plays; he recognizes the look from family Christmas' past and passes her a glass of eggnog (with an extra shot) without making eye contact just like he used to for Uncle Red.
The only one who appeared unhappy was JD. Even he wasn't actively unhappy to most people, smiling and joking around, acting like his usual self – but he wasn't all there either. He wasn't the only one who had noticed either, judging from the dark looks Gandhi kept sending him.
He wants to blame JD's anger on the fact that he forgot his mother at the airport – she made it back just fine though, without meeting any of the interesting and sticky-fingered locals, and hell she didn't even seem to put out by it. Obviously the grudge holding came from JD's dad because he was quite honestly sure that Joan didn't harbor a spiteful bone in her body – unnatural as that was.
JD's angry because he's got a job, Perry's certain of it. Apparently, there is one – one masculine bone in his body; unfortunately it's one that's completely and utterly irreconcilable with Perry's own beliefs. He is not going to stay at home and play Suzie Housemaker for JD, because first off, he's got 206 masculine bones and that is just naaaaaaaawwwwwwwt an option for him, ever.
He's a great physician, better than that he is a gifted physician. He was freakishly talented at medicine, and he was lucky enough to find his niche in the world. If he believed in destiny and fate and "things happening for a reason" then he would grudgingly say that God put him on this earth to be a doctor. He had a civic duty to help others to the best of his abilities.
He wasn't going to lock himself away in the apartment tending to kids and making dinner and keeping house just to keep JD happy though.
The alarm on his cell phone goes off, and does a double check at the time…
"Sorry, new boss is already calling."
***///***///***
He fumes silently as he watches Perry, already yammering on his cell phone to the 'boss' as he slips into Jack's bedroom. He's already started abandoning his family and he hasn't even had his first day at work yet.
Fuming, he polishes off his third cup of eggnog, before following Perry into the bedroom, only to find it empty.
Maybe I've had too much eggnog, he thinks as his anger spirals higher.
He's mad enough that he crosses over into Jordan's apartment – normally they treat each other's apartments as sacred territory, but Perry broke the rule first, and he needed to say this.
The living room is empty too (Jordan had pawned the Christmas tree off on them this year), and confusion is beginning to filter in because where the hell did Perry go if he's not in Jack's bedroom and he's not in Jordan's living room, where exactly the hell is he? What could possibly be so important that he had to hide away –?
He hears a rustle from the bathroom and locks in.
"Perry!" He pounds his fist loudly on the bathroom door.
"JD," Perry responds after a long minute, a question in his voice.
"Perry, I get it, you don't trust me, and there's nothing I can do to change that. You're never going to talk to me about those feelings you 'don't have' even though I know you do, or your past, and I'm glad you've got a job now, since it obviously makes you happy," He sighs. "Just – just don't – just don't become a dick again, and be there for the kids. Don't ruin the holidays for them yet. I know you hate them, the holidays not the kids – of course you love the kids, but they think Christmas is special, and that Santa is real – and in happy relationships. Just don't ruin it."
He turns away before he can hear Perry's smart ass remark and heads back to the party, pausing a moment in Jack's bedroom to put on a happy face.
***///***///***
He sighs, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looks absolutely god damn ridiculous, red velvet pants stretched wide over his padded stomach, the fake beard half attached to his face, the spirit gum burning his skin (to prevent any tugging incidents).
He wants to go out there and grab JD, sit his ass down and explain – but what can he say? Especially since this is going to probably involve loud words and they've got guests. It's going to have to wait until after the party is over.
He finishes the beard, pulling on the coat and buttoning it up, carefully checking his reflection in the mirror to be sure that he looks the very image of Saint Nicholas. His skin itches at the additional weight of the beard and bushy eyebrows. He's hot, uncomfortable, and pissed off.
However, he's got commitment, so he adjusts his cap, pulls the hidden sack of toys out of the linen closet and steels his nerves. He likes these people; he likes these kids – this isn't going to be like Christmas of '81 back in New Jersey –
He steps outside and knocks on his own door.
The look on JD's face as he answers the door is priceless, and he hopes that JD will remember this moment later.
"SANTA!!!!!"
He has one second to brace for the blow as Gandhi slips form his leash and pounces. He staggers, but doesn't fall, but it's a near thing.
"I told you he was real! Baby, I told you!"
"Ho ho ho," He booms out, because he's got commitment, like he said, and he gives Gandhi an extra hard slap on the back to get him to back off – he doesn't of course, and he remains in a death grip.
Jack is immediately at his feet, pulling on his pant leg. Isabelle is close behind, squealing loudly.
"Hello little boy, what's your name?"
Jack stares up at him, gobsmacked, and Gandhi grips him tighter.
"Christopher! Oh Santa, I knew you were real!" He counts to five while Gandhi rocks him back and forth.
"Gee, I sure am tired from riding in my sleigh, maybe I could get a seat?"
Gandhi lets him go and he gasps for air while Gandhi hustles Carla, a very pregnant Carla, off the recliner. Carla shoots him an exasperated look as she hoists herself out of the chair, and he returns it with a one shouldered shrug. If JD weren't so pissed at him he'd probably be joining in with Gandhi.
He sets his sack of toys down (when the hell did toys get so big?) and takes a seat. Isabelle toddles up to him first, slapping his knee and squawking at him impatiently. With a loud theatrical chuckle he hoists her up onto his lap.
"And what's your name little girl?"
Isabelle tilts her head and lets out a string of baby garble and what may be Spanish, he can't tell quite.
"This is Isabelle, Santa," Carla replies, hand resting on Isabelle's back.
"And has she been a good girl?"
"She's been a very good girl, Santa."
"How about your mother, Isabelle, has she been a good girl?" Isabelle squeaks something at him and he gives Carla an alarmed look as she snaps a shot with her camera. "She did what? That is, so so naughty -- " Carla glares at him from behind her camera, and he obediently reaches over into his satchel, pulling out Isabelle's specially wrapped present.
"Say thank you to Santa, Izzy," Carla says, even though Isabelle is much more interested in drooling on the corner of her present.
Carla kisses the top of his head as she scoops up Isabelle.
"Santa," JD says softly, face thoughtful, and holding a terrified looking Jack's hand. "Someone here would like to talk to you."
"You never did tell me your name, little boy."
"…Jack…"
"That's a fine name, Jack," He pats his leg invitingly, and slowly Jack clambers into his lap.
"Have you been a good boy, Jack?"
Jack nods after a moment, still looking at him with wide eyes.
"Are you the real Santa?"
"I am so! Pull my beard if you don't believe me!"
Jack reaches out and grabs a hank of scruffy hair, and he crosses his fingers and hopes the gum holds – He yips as Jack pulls and Jack looks up at him possibly more stunned than before. Smiling, he scruffs Jack's hair and pulls out Jack's present – one of those hamsters that wasn't really a hamster that were apparently all the rage according to JD.
"…thank you, Santa…" Jack rasps, squirming on his lap as he stares at the wrapped box.
"Aren't you going to open it?"
"Nuh uh…" Jack shakes his head, clutching the present to his chest as he slides off his lap. "It's not Christmas yet…"
He's in a good enough mood after that that he even lets Gandhi sit on his lap, and that starts off a chain of them – Even Mahoney sits on his lap, promising that she's going to show it to everyone at Lady Sacred Heart and win the betting pool. He'd be concerned, but it's not like he works there anymore.
"Me next," Joan declares, pushing Mahoney aside and dropping into his lap. Her arm wraps around his neck, and he can smell the rum on her breath.
"Santa! Santa, I just wanted to say thank you!"
"For what, little girl?"
Joan titters loudly, dropping her forehead against his and kissing his cheek wetly. "For giving me a grandchild. Don't think I don't know where Sammy got his nose. That's the Dorian nose, through and through," She whispers in his ear, thankfully.
Before he's even got time to process what she's saying, she lays a great big wet, disgusting kiss right on his lips.
… It made sense. Oh god, Jordan was going to kill them.
"HOHOHO, you're welcome, Joan."
Joan stumbles off back to the bar, and he can tell the party is starting to wind down.
There's still one present left to give. Stretching, he gets out of the chair and snagging a present from under the tree and searching for JD.
He finds him in the kitchen, cleaning some dishes.
"You're a real piece of work, you know that," JD says sullenly as he scrubs at the dish. "You hate Christmas, and yet here you are – I'm sorry I yelled at you early, I guess I've had too much nog, I'm going to have such a nog-over in the morning."
It's the words he wants to hear, but it's not a victory when JD sounds so miserable, at least not this time.
"You shouldn't apologize for how you feel," Perry shrugs and pushes the present forward. "You should open that now, I think."
JD gives him a funny look, but dries off his hands and carefully unwraps the gift, revealing a short stack of papers.
"What are these?"
"Legal documents listing giving you power of attorney over me in case anything, I even had them drawn up by a real lawyer instead of Ted, because I wanted it to be bullet proof."
He sighs as JD looks at him with a deer in the headlights look.
"I do trust you, JD, I trust you with my life, I trust you with my kids' lives, and I trust you to know what I would want if something terrible happens to me. I don't like talking about my past because – because if I don't talk about it, I don't have to remember it, and if I don't remember it I'll eventually forget it and then it all will have happened to somebody else. I don't like talking about it with you because it's the past, and it's over, and I would rather focus on right now, and all it's going to do is make you look at me with pity. But if it's what you want, I'll try and -- "
He's cut off by JD's mouth sealing against his – oh god they both do the tongue thing –
"Santa! What about Mrs. Claus," Jack cries out, looking up at the two of them with horror.
He groans loudly as Jack races out of the living room.
"Thank you," JD whispers, hugging him close, which he allows for once. "Should I go get him?"
"Nah, he'll get over it… besides, we've got bigger problems; you'll never guess what your mother told me…"