OF MISTLETOE AND CHRISTMAS CAROLS
Summary : Olivia has spent Christmas with the Bishops for as long as she can remember. She knows to expect spiked eggnog and pudding, sleepovers and breakfast. But this year, now that Peter's home and they're together, things might shape up a little differently. Fourth in the 'Eggnog' series.
Disclaimer : Okay, I've always wanted to do this one but never did for some reason, so here it goes – no copyright inFRINGEment intended. Ha! Get it? We're so punny, Fringies.
Of Mistletoe And Christmas Carols
One : Joy To The World
"Good morning."
Her eyelids slowly flutter open as Peter sets down a breakfast tray on the bed and shoots her a smile.
"Hey," She croaks, her voice just a little too dry. There's a pause as she waits to see if the nausea will hit her but nothing happens and so she smiles tiredly before lifting herself up into a sitting position. Peter tries to help but she has her back against the headboard before he can even let go of the tray. She's still trying to prove that pregnancy doesn't make her an invalid.
"What's with the room service?" She teases with an appreciative smile as he climbs in next to her and brushes a few stray strands of light hair behind her ear.
"I figure we could use some time off. Besides, it's Christmas Eve." She tries not to grimace; Peter is being very, very sweet and he is right to smile about Christmas Eve, but they both know that the real reason for this is the fact that they'd been called into a crime scene yesterday evening and Olivia had spent the entire night crouched by the toilet bowl afterwards.
"What time does Elizabeth want us over?" She asks casually instead of trying to reject this. Olivia is allowed to be independent and Peter is allowed to be sweet. It's a careful compromise full of assessing situations and actions and determining what's too much, but it's working for them.
"She said any time's good," He watches as she downs an entire glass of water and checks subtly for signs of dehydration. Finding none, he smiles and continues. "But she doesn't really need us over until seven."
"Okay," Olivia nods and begins to pick at her toast. Peter frowns at her blank stare, knowing just where her thoughts are.
"No, no, no." He shakes his head, drawing her attention. "You are not going in to work." He stresses with a serious look, trying to sound firm. He hasn't denied her anything in a long while or even given her direct orders but it's Christmas Eve, she's running on (barely) two hours of sleep and their baby seems hell-bent on making her mommy as sick as possible.
"Peter, it's only-"
"It's already eleven, sweetheart." He points out, knowing that she was just about to protest that it's still early and she'll be in and out with plenty of time to spare. Her eyes widen and she stares at him.
"What?"
He grins and shrugs nonchalantly. "You can check the time if you want to." She does, reaching over to glance at her alarm clock. The room is left in dumbfounded silence. He grins, knowing that she hasn't slept in this late for years. Even as a child, Olivia would always be the first one up. She was never the kind to ask for five more minutes or to sleep in during the summer. Peter would join her once a year, on Christmas morning, but other than that he'd grumbled and teased her about her sleeping habits constantly.
"Oh." Olivia finally states flatly. He's glad it's not an accusation for letting her sleep in, but they both know she needed it.
"The case will still be there after Christmas, Liv." He says gently, trying to coax her into slowing down. "You're allowed to take two full days off."
She shakes her head wordlessly, knowing that Peter's made up his mind. "So you want me to stay in bed all day?" She challenges him – he knows how she gets when she has nothing to do and nowhere to be.
"Just until six." He corrects with a triumphant smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Just catch up on sleep, 'Livia. You'll need it for tonight."
Olivia's lips curve into an amused smile. "You've already knocked me up, Bishop. I hardly think that's necessary."
He laughs and picks up the morning paper before turning to her. "Hardly what I was thinking about, sweetheart, but we'll see."
She doesn't have the heart to tell him that there's no way they'll be doing anything tonight because she's pretty sure Walter, eager matchmaker and excited grandfather-to-be, will have his ear pressed up against the door all night.
"Peter, have you seen my-"
"Other shoe?" Peter leans against the doorway, holding up the left side of her flats. She sighs gratefully and smiles.
"Do I even want to know where it was?" She questions lightly, crossing the room to pluck the shoe out of his hands.
"Somewhere," He shrugs. "I don't tend to keep track of where exactly your clothes land after I take them off." After almost a year of living with him, she's gotten pretty used to comments like these and hardly even blushes anymore, but memories of how she had basically attacked him the very second he had shut the front door behind them two nights ago cause blood to rush to her cheeks as she averts her gaze and focuses on slipping on her shoes.
Peter remains at the doorway, leaning against it casually as he watches her go about her usual routine until she announces that she's done, picking up a bag. He beats down the over-protective, extreme part of him that wants to ask if the bag is too heavy and offer to carry it, trying to apply some logic to the situation. Really, if this is how he's going to act now, he doesn't even want to imagine what the next few months will bring. And once the baby is here? Christ, he'll be on full-on crazy guy mode, hovering nervously around Olivia and their child at all times.
He shakes off these troubling thoughts and holds out a hand to Olivia, focusing instead on the way just holding hands with her can make him smile. It still feels like a dream sometimes, being here with her, being in love with her, starting a family with her. After ten years of telling himself that this would never happen, that he should be content with one day of Olivia every year, this is all just a little surreal. He's told her that before, shyly admitting that sometimes he's scared he'll wake up and find that they're still stuck with their previous arrangement, which had its perks but left a lot to be desired in the way of a proper relationship.
Olivia accepts his hand with a smile and they make their way out of the apartment and into the car where she wordlessly slips into the passenger seat, obviously trying to maintain their take-and-give compromise.
It's snowing lightly as he pulls out of their street and heads for their childhood home. Olivia looks out of the window, keeping an eye on vacant houses as she tends to do these days. He doesn't think she even realizes it most of the time. He doesn't really mind; after all, he'd been the one to bring up getting a home together in the first place and they are working on a deadline right now, so they've both agreed on a move. Now if only they could agree on a location…
"Is there anything near Walter and Elizabeth?" She asks suddenly, taking him by surprise. They've stopped at a light so he turns to look at her; she's still looking at houses and had apparently spoken absent-mindedly.
She turns around after a few seconds, having felt his eyes on her. "I think it would be nice," her lips curve into a shy smile. "To be close to them."
They're both aware of what she's doing and why. Walter had decided, prior to them even announcing Olivia's pregnancy, to have them move back in with him and Elizabeth. He wanted his entire family under one roof and had grown so excited over the idea until Peter's mother had pointed out the flaws in his plan, trying to keep him grounded to reality as usual. But this is Olivia applying their compromise to a different part of their lives, a bigger part. She's trying to make everyone happy and to keep their family together and God, he loves this woman.
He reaches out and laces their fingers together, holding her right hand in his securely. "Okay," He finally says with a warm smile. "We'll look."
She nods, just once, before turning to look out of the window once more. He replaces his hand on the steering wheel when the light turns green and they slip back into silence with smiles on their faces until he speaks up.
"Have I told you how amazing you are?"
"Peter!" Walter booms, wandering out of the kitchen with an apron around his waist and a dishcloth in hand. He pulls his only son into a warm embrace before doing the same with Olivia and leads them into the kitchen.
"Elizabeth, look who's here!" He beams, getting his wife's attention. She looks up from the tiny desserts she had been bent over and her eyes light up when she spots Peter and Olivia, moving to greet them in the same manner her husband had.
"Oh, I'm so glad you're here." She smiles warmly at Olivia, holding her close. "Peter told me you-"
"Hey, Mom, what are these?" Peter blurts, pointing randomly at a plate of appetizers. Elizabeth gets the message and quickly drops whatever it is she had been saying as Olivia's eyes narrow just the slightest bit. She can guess what Peter had told his mother. She sighs heavily; honestly, she's trying to be okay with all of this. She just doesn't want Peter getting all concerned, or Elizabeth, or Walter, who would probably have a full-on panic attack and come up with some weird experiment every single time he hears of her and the baby feeling less than perfectly fine. Not that his son has been any better recently; Peter's been acting so weird that she sometimes wonders if he's subjected himself to a few weird experiments of his own.
"Do you need any help?" She offers kindly as Elizabeth pulls out yet another tray of gingerbread men. She smiles fondly, thinking of childhood Decembers long past when these were all she looked forward to: gingerbread men and Elizabeth's hot chocolate, though Walter always made it better.
"Oh, no, darling. Why don't you go sit down in the front?" Elizabeth suggests kindly. "Guests will be arriving soon and you can let them in." Olivia puts on a smile and nods, making her way to the living room where she sits down and waits for the bell to ring. Elizabeth is just like her son, it would seem. She knows that in the kitchen, both older Bishops will be bustling around preparing food, and Peter will be single-handedly carrying all of the food out, making a least a dozen trips. She could've helped but of course they sent her out to sit down.
And when the first of the guests arrives and the bell chimes, Peter calls out that he'll get it in a minute, telling her to stay still. She scowls and shoots to her feet, almost childishly trying to beat Peter to the door. She does, and shoots him a triumphant grin as her fingers curl around the doorknob, opening the door to greet their oldest neighbor, Mrs. Grantham. The woman she'd spent summers talking to pulls her into a hug and Olivia gingerly returns it for two seconds, waiting for the woman to release her. She's been getting better about human contact these days, mostly thanks to the Bishops and Astrid, but it's still somewhat foreign to her after a decade of shying away from nearly everyone.
She ushers Mrs. Grantham into the living room and catches sight of Peter just before he slips back into the kitchen, shooting her a fond, resigned smile. She's on door duty, then.
Olivia – 1, overprotective Bishops – 0.
"Astrid!" She exclaims warmly, pulling the woman in from the cold. Her friend reaches out and hugs her for five brief seconds, well aware of her struggles with being held.
"Merry Christmas, Liv!" Astrid smiles brightly, setting down gifts on the table Walter had cleared for just this purpose. There are boxes and bundles neatly wrapped up sitting under the tree, but those are just for the family, Walter had explained.
"Where's your Prince Charming?" Astrid asks teasingly, taking in a sea of unfamiliar faces. It seems like Walter's invited more than his usual guest list this year and she can only hope that nothing bad will come from this.
"Peter," Olivia corrects firmly. "Is with Elizabeth in the kitchen. They're trying to figure out which batch of eggnog Walter spiked."
Astrid laughs and leads the way to the kitchen. "The fact that you can say that with a straight face and neither of us finds it weird anymore proves just how far we've come." She points out just as they run into Walter, who envelopes Astrid in a bear hug and calls her Absinthe.
"Astrid," Elizabeth smiles warmly when they finally make their way into the kitchen. "It's so nice to see you, dear." Astrid smiles and gives the Bishop matriarch a friendly hug before wishing her and Peter a merry Christmas.
"How's it going?" Olivia asks, pointing out the two trays of eggnog-filled glasses. Peter shrugs as Elizabeth looks amused.
"They both taste the same," He tells her before Elizabeth laughs lightly.
"Guess we'll have to go with trial and error then," She decides before picking up a tray and walking out of the kitchen. Peter follows her lead and the girls trail behind.
"This is not going to end well." Astrid predicts in a hushed whisper as both Peter and Elizabeth start handing out drinks.
"Ooh, eggnog!" Walter exclaims in delight, hurrying across the room for a glass of his own.
"No," Olivia agrees grimly. "No, it won't."
Walter quickly downs his drink and reaches for another.
"Dearly beloved," Walter calls out an hour later when Peter and Olivia are curled up on the couch and Peter groans.
"What now?"
Olivia laughs at him but feels the exact same way… only worse when Walter points them out.
"We have gathered here today because I have some wonderful news to share." He beams proudly. "My son, that's Peter right over there, and Olive, there, right next to him," Walter pauses for added anticipation even though he looks like he just can't keep the news in any longer.
"-are expecting!"
It takes the assembled crowd two seconds to respond with cheers and clapping, and Mrs. Grantham is the first to come up and pull both of them into a tight hug with repeated congratulations.
Peter and Olivia plaster on smiles and suffer through a long line of well-wishers until Walter clears his throat… sounding suspiciously loud.
That's when the couple looks up to find Walter standing by the old TV, microphone in hand.
"And to celebrate," He announces grandly, his voice booming.
"Let us sing!"
Christmas karaoke, anyone?
One chapter down, two more to go! I think. In the meantime, check out Celebration if you want some Etta and keep your eyes open for an untitled Walter special. Feedback is always welcome and did you know that reviews count as Christmas presents?
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Festivus!
E Salvatore,
December 2012.