Title: Tradition

Fandom: The O.C.

Rating: PG

Characters: Ryan, Seth, Kirsten, Sandy, others may make cameo appearances

Archive: Ask first please, I'll say yes, I just want to know where it's going

Spoilers: Nothing specific but all of season 1, just be safe

Part: 1/5

Summary: It was Sandy's tradition, it was nothing more than a the sharing of simple stories and memories, a chance for everybody to share their favorite moments of their lives together

A/N: My sister, Gabby, thinks my fic is too sad, this is the first part of one of two fics I'm currently for her, it is pretty much pure fluff

I don't own The O.C. sad as that fact is, Josh Schwartz et.al do.

Sandy smiles as he sits on the floor a glass of eggnog in his hand, Kirsten is sits beside him, leaning her head against his shoulder, an exhausted, happy smile spreading across her face as her two sons, their two sons, hers and Sandy's enter the room, Ryan carrying a bottle of coke and Seth a huge bowl of popcorn, they flopped down on to the over-stuffed white sofa.

The lights on the Christmas tree were casting a faint, dancing luminescence over the room, there were four stockings thrown down on the floor nest to the unlit fireplace, there was no need to light it, it was still 60 degrees outside.

"So," Sandy began excitedly, "You know what time it is?"

"Bedtime?" Kirsten mumbled into his shoulder.

"Yes, we all know what time it is dad." Seth groaned.

Ryan just smiled; this was his favorite part of Chrismukah as simple as it was, it didn't involve the giving of extravagant gifts or a huge feast, it was nothing more than a the sharing of simple stories and memories, a chance for everybody, but especially Kirsten, who has never been particularly good at expressing her love for her boys, to share their favorite moments of their lives together. It was Sandy's tradition and he cherished it deeply, he watched as Sandy wrote all their names on small pieces of paper then place them into a bowl.

"Ryan, why don't you do the draw this year?" Sandy asked smiling as he handed the bowl to Ryan, Ryan cheeks flushed as he accepted the bowl. This was his second Chrismukah with the Cohen's and it was still a little surprising to him that they were so willing to include him in their traditions.

Ryan placed his hand into the bowl and picked out a meticulously folded piece of paper, laughing slightly as he unfolded it.

"That piece of paper has my name on it, doesn't it?" Seth yelped blushing a deep shade of red.

"Yep." Ryan replied.

"Dad, I always get drawn first." Seth whined.

Sandy shrugged his shoulders "That's the way it goes."

"Not fair." Seth pouted.

"Kirsten, now because you are sitting directly to the left of Seth, you get to tell your story first." Sandy announced even though they were all well aware of the rules of the tradition.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking." Kirsten said in mock exasperation. Sandy places a gentle kiss on his wife forehead, well aware of how difficult it is for her to verbalize her feelings; the Nichol's were for the most part an unaffectionate family especially since Kirsten's mother had died.

Sandy laughed at Seth who was pretending to have a panic attack over what may come out of his mother's mouth but Sandy knew that Seth would, like every year, cherish her, cherish all of their stories.

Kirsten moved her head from Sandy's shoulder, kissing him passionately before crawling across the floor to sit along side Seth, unconsciously running her hand through his tangled mess of curls as she started to speak.

Her voice was faltering and unsure and just as he had last year Ryan placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Sandy feeling decidedly lonely on his side of the room crawled over to Kirsten's feet and stared massaging them.

All three of her boys could feel her relax as she continued her story.