Characters/Pairing: Tracy Turnblad/Link Larkin + Edna/Wilbur Turnblad + Mr. Bradley Charles Larkin

A/N: This is a special holiday edition – so it'll be longer than my word limit. Happy Holidays!

Word Count: 3,191

-- Carol of the Bells --

Every Christmas had always been a wonderful memory for Tracy. There was joy and laughter, warm delicious food, and family all around. This Christmas was going to be different; and Tracy found that she couldn't wait.

On the other hand, for Link, every Christmas since his mother had died had been a struggle. Where there was once happy songs and festive food, there was the garbled radio broadcasting tired tunes and frozen dinners. Presents were opened, each trying to keep the mood light and cheery; but eventually the façade would drop and Mr. Larkin would need a drink. This Christmas was going to be different; and Link found that he was absolutely terrified.

This year, the Larkins would be joining the Turnblads for Christmas. His father had taken some convincing, but since Link had never introduced him to a girl before, and his son seemed so taken with her; he had conceded and agreed to join them. He had met Tracy earlier, and she seemed to be a darling little girl, so meeting with her family could be rather enjoyable.

--

In preparation of the grand event, Tracy and Link had been given the important task of finding the ideal Christmas tree. They walked, hand-in-hand, looking at all the trees available for their selection. There was a perfect one out there, Tracy had told him adamantly, and they just had to find it. He already knew the perfect one, though. It was one she kept walking them back to, sizing out of the corner of her eye, then continuing the journey around the lot only to circle back to that same tree.

It was time, he figured, to help her decide. On one of the many circling-around-the-tree excursions, he deftly placed an object on one of the branches, waiting for her to circle around again. He knew she had seen it when he heard a small gasp escape her petite frame, and she looked at him with questioning eyes.

He paused to examine the item, seeming to contemplate its existence as she gingerly walked up and placed mitten-clad fingers over it. Her hand traced over the white gold chain, following the dangling path down until it rested on a delicate harp charm that shown brilliantly among the green bristles of the tree. She felt warm arms wrap around her middle and smiled.

"I knew it," she whispered as she fingered the chain once more, "this is the perfect tree."

--

Wilbur and Link set about to straightening the tree in the Turnblad living room. Link held the base steady and Wilbur shifted the tree, trying to center it in the stand. Tracy watched from her place on the couch as she sorted through decorations; and smiled when her mother placed a bowl of warm water and fresh towels on the coffee table.

"When you boys have set it up, here's something to clean off all that tree sap," she said as she sat down next to Tracy, untangling some ribbon that they planned to use as garland. "There's also some hot chocolate in the kitchen."

"Thanks hun," Wilbur paused as the younger boy held the tree firmly, wiping sweat off his brow.

"Thanks Mrs. Turnblad," Link's voice drifted from somewhere below the tree, his face lost to the many branches that were shedding pine needles on his black sweater. The girls shared a smile before turning back to untangling the decorations, each working in peace as the boys finally got the tree in place.

Wilbur clapped loudly, smiling as he finally got a good look at the tree. He sized it silently as Link stood up off his knees, shaking some of the pine needles out of his hair.

"Looks good, kids! You did well!" Wilbur walked to the table and placed a towel in the bowl, wrung out some of the excess water, and handed it to Link. Link gave him a grateful smile before cleaning the sap off his hands, trying to remove the sticky substance before it started to collect dirt and debris.

A quiet giggle caught his attention and he looked at Tracy, who gave him a quirky grin before pointing to his head, "you have needles in your hair, and some sap on your face." His expression scrunched in distaste as he rubbed the towel over his face, hoping to remove the offending substance. Tracy stood and walked towards him, taking the towel from his hands. He watched as she walked back to the bowl, dipped and wrung it again, and then walked back to him to gently rub whatever blotches she could see off his face. Wilbur walked off to the kitchen to check on his hot chocolate and Edna smiled as she focused on a particularly difficult tangle in the ribbon.

"By the way Tracy," she began, distracted as she pulled a section free of the knot, "that's a lovely necklace you're wearing." Tracy smiled as her free hand reached up to palm the beautiful charm. Link watched her, grinning as she focused on gently cleaning his cheek while keeping the playful banter with her mother.

"You think so?" She replied, cleaning off the last of the sap on Link's face. She gave the cheek she had just cleaned a chaste kiss before turning to look at her mother, "I think so, too. Mr. Larkin gave it to me."

"Did he now?" Edna gave Link a small smile before turning to Tracy, appearing non-chalet. "It seems a bit small to me."

"Mother!" Tracy stared, surprised while Link laughed beside her.

"Mrs. Turnblad," he chuckled, "you ruined the surprise!" Her smile turned rather bashful but she giggled as she stood.

"I couldn't help it! Hurry and show her!" She urged as she shifted from one foot to the other.

"Show me what?" Tracy questioned, watching the two of them. Link pulled a small parcel of wrapped tissue paper out of his pocket, giving her a quick grin.

"One to keep with you, and one to be the beginning of the beautiful thing, doll." He handed her the gift and she quickly opened it, finding a much bigger and far more intricate harp resting in the paper. She smiled beautifully as she gave him a big hug.

"Oh, Link – it's beautiful; the perfect first ornament for the tree!" He returned the hug, careful not to get too enthusiastic since her mother was still watching them, but relishing the feel of her in his arms. Edna squealed and Wilbur walked into the living room from the kitchen, a tray with mugs full of hot chocolate balancing carefully in his hands.

"Now then, before we decorate the rest of the tree" he gave Link a meaningful glance as he sat down the tray and both he and Edna sat on the couch, "let's have some cocoa!" Link gave Tracy a final squeeze before he let her go and watched her gently place the ornament on the tree, smiling as it swung slowly before settling in its final position. They both walked towards the coffee table, joining her parents in sharing stories as they each drank from their mugs; the beautiful harp, placed lovingly on the branches of the perfect tree, shone warmly in the comfortable evening lights.

--

The month of December seemed to drag a bit longer than usual, Link felt. Perhaps that most of his distractions had been centered towards the beginning of the month, when he had assisted the Turnblad's with their Christmas tree and had gifted Tracy with a few early presents, had something to do with the slow feeling the rest of the month had taken. As it was Christmas Eve couldn't seem to get there any faster, and when the day finally arrived, Link felt that silent terror that had been steadily building up over the past few months intensify. He stood now in his bathroom mirror, fixing his hair for the umpteenth time.

It wasn't that he was worried about his father and the Turnblads mixing well, it was more the extreme change of routine for a day that had always been slightly melancholy. He wasn't sure if both he and his father would be able to remain in good spirits, and he knew he'd feel horrible if he had to see Tracy with a crestfallen expression during the time of year that seemed to be made for her.

But it was always so hard. On days when family should be together and smiles should be shared, there was always this emptiness he would feel.

He supposed the biggest reason was that he never got to say goodbye.

Even so, he and his father would be joining the Turnblads for dinner in less than an hour; and darn it – they were going to have a good time…

He gazed at his expression once more and swallowed thickly.

…right?

--

The drive to the Turnblad home started off relatively silent, each man in their own thoughts. Finally feeling uncomfortable, Link cleared his throat.

"Dad, I want to ask you something…" His voice drifted off, unsure if he really wanted to have this conversation when they were already on their way.

"Have at it," his father replied distractedly, eyes focused on the road. Link turned to study him, once black hair speckled with strands of gray and dark eyes calculating whatever thoughts that ran through his head.

"Is this okay? I mean, I know it's just dinner – but…" He shifted to look back outside the window, feeling uncomfortable again.

"It's not just dinner," his father replied quickly, "it's Christmas Eve dinner; with your lady and her family."

"Exactly," Link looked back to his father, "it's… different." He shifted in his seat, biting on his lower lip. The older man glanced at him, then sighed and turned off the road, parking the car in an empty spot.

"Link," his father began, turning to face him, "what are you really trying to say, here? Do you not want to go…?"

"No, no! I want to go! I want to eat with Tracy and her parents… I really like them; it's just… you…" He drifted again, watching his father's face for his reaction.

"Me? When have I ever given you the impression that I had a problem with this?" His voice was soft as he watched his son carefully, trying to decipher what it was that was really bothering him.

"It's not that, dad…" Link looked away again; the intensity in his father's gaze causing him to feel somewhat childish. "I know it's different… I mean, it's the first time we'll be doing something outside the norm since mom died…"

"This is bad?" The question was followed by a gentle hand resting on his shoulder, and Link laughed nervously.

"No! It's just, I'm not used to it, so…" He realized the slip as soon as he said it, and he felt his eyes grow wide as his own words seemed to slap him in the face.

"Ah," his father hummed, "so this is about you. You're not used to it, and you're afraid of the change." Link absently chewed on his lip. Well, he couldn't really deny it now…

"I'm not afraid…" he tried weakly, but looked up in surprise as his father chuckled warmly.

"Link, it's been a long time since mom died," his father started, giving him a warm smile. "All we've done for the following holiday's is eat a horrible dinner, and then I go off and drink. I hardly think that's a tradition to be proud of."

"It's not really that," he interjected, feeling a bit too exposed for his liking.

"Then is it your lovely lady?" The question was met by silence, and Link felt as if his thoughts were running a mile a minute.

"Dad, I know I really like her. I like being with her and seeing her happy," he felt a bit awkward having this conversation as he had never really brought up girls with his father before; but he supposed it was true what they said… Better late, than never…

"So…?" his father edged him on, waiting.

"Well," he swallowed again, "I don't know."

"Question," his father sat back into the chair, resting his head against the seat. "Does she know what the harp means? I'm guessing you remember the story mom used to tell you, since you chose that particular symbol…"

"Dad, it's not like I proposed or anything!" He saw his father roll his eyes, and quickly added, "And before you start – I'm not pouting."

"Of course not, and no – you didn't propose. But it's a symbol of love either way. And if I recall, you bought it after much thought; so surely you knew what you were doing." Link sighed, feeling out of character.

"I think you know me too well, dad." He turned to watch a couple hurry down the street, bags of food in their hands. "I feel like I can't act cool when I'm around you." He heard his father's deep, throaty laugh reverberate inside the car.

"I think all that celebrity has gone to your head," his father smiled, large hand reaching over to shuffle Link's hair.

"Dad," Link dodged quickly, watching his father with weary eyes, "are you crazy?! Do you know how long it took me to get it this way?" His father snorted in amusement, ignoring his son's dramatic display.

"Fine, fine – I won't touch your precious hair; but are you ready to continue? Or shall we sit and have more touching father-son bonding? As wonderful as it is, I am getting hungry…" Link sighed, hot breath puffing out onto the window. He remained silent for a moment longer, before rubbing a cold hand on the back of his neck.

"…I love her, dad…" he admitted quietly. His father smiled softly, even though Link wasn't watching.

"I got that impression," the older man replied, just as gently.

"...and it scares me. Because it's different, not what I'm used to… and…" Link felt himself become overwhelmed with that fear that had been troubling him, and swallowed thickly as he finally realized what it truly was.

"…and?" His father urged, trying to remain supportive for his son.

"…and I'm afraid she'll leave me – and I as much as I don't want that; I'm afraid that if she does – I won't get to say goodbye…" Having admitted it out loud, he felt incredibly immature and briefly wondered that if he jumped out the car and started running, he could get hit by something. Of course, instead of laughing or chiding him, his father just pulled him into a tight hug, surprising Link out of his demeaning thoughts.

"Lincoln," his deep voice rumbled in the younger man's ear, "I'm sorry that you never got to say goodbye to mom. I'm sorry that you were so little when she died, and that you have so few memories. I'm sorry that for all this time, you've been carrying around this fear; and I'm sorry that I failed you in that I never noticed. Tracy is a wonderful girl, and to have someone like that in your life is a great thing." He pulled away so he could watch his son fully. "I know that this kind of change is scary; before Tracy girls where just girls – and even though you had girlfriends, you didn't have the girlfriend. But you do now, and judging by the way she looked at you when I met her last, she doesn't have any plans on going anywhere."

"But-"

"Don't worry about what hasn't happened. You're both young and, dare I sound like a cheesy romance novel, in love. Don't let your fears stop you from giving her your all. Life is too short, son – and you may end up with too many things to regret." Link felt his heart thump soundly at his father's last words, and he nodded, understanding what they implied. He sat back in his seat, sighing as he did so and he heard his father shift back into his.

"Man, that was so un-cool," he whined half-heartedly, feeling better after the conversation. His father started the car, turning onto the road after checking if the coast was clear.

"She does know that you're really a nerd, right?" He heard his father joke, and turned to glare at him.

"Hey," he punched him lightly in the arm, "that's unfair! The one time I have a minor break-down in front of you; and I suddenly lose all my cool points?" His father snorted again.

"Kid, you never had them," he continued down the road, joking playfully with the other in the car for the rest of the drive. And as Link was mocked and teased, he noticed that the emptiness that had plagued his heart for so long felt a little less hollow, leaving him feeling a bit warmer during the cold winter night.

--

Dinner had gone well, the two families chatting merrily over ham and turkey as they shared funny stories and warm memories. After eating some of Mama Turnblad's special Christmas cake, the adults left to go talk in the living room as the two teens cleaned the table, chatting quietly amongst themselves.

"Thank you for coming, Link; I hope you and your dad had a good time…" Tracy spoke softly, a content glow lighting up her face. Link gave her a cheery grin.

"I'm glad we came, doll – you and your family are always great to spend time with." Now wasn't the time for her to know about his turmoil in the car, which could wait for another time… at a much later date. Tracy placed the last of the dishes in the sink, turning to walk up to him with a smile. She gave him a daring peck on the lips, quick in case one of the parents should walk in.

"I have your gift here, but I'd rather give it to you tomorrow… do you mind?" She watched him with large eyes, and he was almost tempted to kiss her again and hold her closer than what the parents next door would approve of.

"You didn't have to get me anything, but since you did – I suppose I can wait until tomorrow," he joked, adding his infamous wink. She smiled brightly at him, reaching out to grab his hand and give it a warm squeeze.

"I'm so excited; our first Christmas together!" He smiled and reached out to run his free hand through her hair.

"Yeah; and I'm sure it's not going to be our last," he told her, firm in his words. She grinned then, pressing another quick kiss against his lips.

"Oh, no Larkin; you're stuck with me, now." One hand reached up to caress the charm that dangled on her necklace, eyes locking with his playfully.

"Sounds good to me," he replied, intertwining their fingers. He decided that tomorrow, after he presented his gift; he would tell her he loved her.

And perhaps one day, when the time was right and they were both ready, he would tell her that he never wanted to say goodbye.

--

A/N: Man, were those bells ever ringing! Anyhow, Happy Holidays!