A/N:Ah, my first finished fanfic. (fidgits nervously) I wrote this on Christmas morning out of boredom, but just got around to submitting it. It's a bit late for Christmas stories, I know, but oh well. It takes place shortly after the defeat of the Combine and, for the sake of holiday cheer, assumes a happy ending for all remaining characters. Oh, and before I forget-
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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"And so I said, 'That's no zombie – that's my wife!'" The table erupted in a fit of drunken laughter.
Gordon rolled his eyes. The joke telling had been going on for hours now, each more pathetic than the last, but the red-faced rebels at the table next to them only laughed harder with each drink they took.
Seeing the look of irritation on his friend's face, Barney snorted into his raised glass.
"C'mon Gordon, lighten up – it's a party! You look like you're about to break out that damn crowbar of yours."
"Hey, if that's what it takes to shut them up." Gordon couldn't help but smile slightly at the idea, and Barney chuckled softly.
"Speaking of peace and good will, did you hear Magnusson actually tried to get this party canceled? Said it was a waste of time that 'could be better spent on the reconstruction.' Who the hell is he actually expecting to work in the middle of a snowstorm on Christmas night?"
Gordon shrugged. "He's probably just sore because nobody got him anything."
"Yeah, well, I'll bet anything he's skulking around here somewhere sipping eggnog and praying no one notices him." As he listened, Gordon raised his glass to take a large swig only to find (much to his irritation) that there was no drink left to be had. He stared at the empty glass for a moment, his brow furrowed slightly in frustration.
"Hey, Barney," he didn't look up as he spoke, "would you go get me another one?" Now it was his companion's turn to roll his eyes.
"Jeez, Gordon, I said I'd buy you a beer, not deliver them all night. Besides, I only offered to get you one. How many have you had anyway?"
Gordon raised an eyebrow at his friend, but decided to ignore the question out of fear that he couldn't answer. "That was twenty years and a war ago; I should think that beer has earned some interest by now." Barney, either unwilling or unable to argue with the somewhat befuddled physicist, rose from his chair unsteadily and wandered off towards the makeshift bar.
Gordon leaned back in his chair with a sigh and pulled his sweater tighter around his skin. The dozen or so fires scattered throughout the former warehouse could only do so much to combat the cold. Still, no one complained. They had all scavenged and saved for weeks to come up with food, decorations, and presents for the celebration; they weren't about to let a little thing like nature stop them now.
Gordon rubbed his eyes sleepily. Maybe Barney had a point; Gordon had had quite a lot to drink. Before Black Mesa, he would have never even considered behaving the way he was tonight. But after everything humanity had been through – after everything he had been through - he thought he deserved a night of relaxation and self-destructive fun. So what if he had a hangover in the morning? He could always get into the HEV suit's morphine tanks if it got too bad, he mused.
"Hey, Gordon, look who I found!" Barney's voice jarred Gordon out of his trance quite suddenly. His head jerked up to see the cause of Barney's excitement, and, as his eyes fell on Alyx, he couldn't suppress a grin.
"What?" She quirked an eyebrow at him in mock annoyance. She was standing across the table from him in her standard blue jeans, a heavy red coat, and (of all things) a rather sorry looking Santa hat, the ball of which was swaying gently in front of her nose.
Gordon had learned during the course of events that some questions were better left unanswered, but this was something he simply couldn't let go. "Where on Earth did you get that?"
"Merry Christmas to you, too." She quipped as she brushed the dangling part of the hat out of her face. "I made it out of some old clothes I found a couple of days ago. Don't tell Magnuson though; he'd kill me if he knew I'd been 'wasting resources.' Do you like it?"
Barney, who was thankfully standing behind her and thus out of her view, looked as though he was about to choke on his own muffled laughter. Gordon, however, merely smiled wider and said, "It looks… fantastic."
"Thank you. I 'm glad someone appreciates it." She shot a dark look at Barney, proving she wasn't quite as oblivious as the two men had hoped. She turned back to Gordon, "Well, I'd better get going. Dr. Kleiner is bound to be looking for me by now. See ya' later!" Then, with a wave, she turned and walked off into the crowd. Gordon watched her as she left, his eyes lingering momentarily on her backside.
Unfortunately for Gordon, this did not go unnoticed by Barney, who grinned at his friend mischievously. "So, you two got any plans for the holidays?" Gordon looked at Barney quizzically, and the ex-security guard continued, although he hardly felt the question needed explanation. "Well, it's a time of celebration, and there's lots of alcohol flowing, and, you know, the human population is dangerously low…" Gordon nearly choked on his drink.
"I'm sorry?"
Barney's grin broadened. He had hit home and he knew it. "Hey, don't forget, we all have to 'do our part.' Besides, you did have Eli's blessing, if I recall." Gordon could feel his cheeks turning scarlet from more than just inebriation. He decided it was high time for a change of subject.
"What about you? I've heard that you have a Christmas date this year."About time, he added under his breath.
Barney rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort, well aware that the tables had been turned on him. "Yeah, Allison. Real sweet girl. You've met her before; we helped her escape the City."
Gordon's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, you don't mean the twitchy girl from the train station do you? The one in the toboggan?"
"Yeah, that's her, though I can't say I appreciate your description very much." Gordon simply stared at his friend, who sighed resignedly. Being friends with Gordon meant learning to read minds, and Barney knew he had already lost this argument. "For the last time, she saw the pulse rifle and thought you were a Combine! Besides, it's not like the shot hit you."
"Yeah, because I ducked. Look, do whatever you want. But if there's a wedding, I'm wearing my hazard suit."
Barney merely laughed and downed the rest of his drink.