A/N: Sometimes I really feel my American blood curdle in bafflement while writing this. Why, do you ask? I was calculating a bunch of inter-UK distances while writing this and… well… the common stereotype applies. Fifty miles from Glasgow to Edinburgh is less than a daytrip for me wtf (and that specific distance is unrelated to the plot, but just saying).


Forty-Seven

As it turned out, Kate was correct and Nora Moore, the HR Head, was completely taken aback the following day when the Director came into her office and recanted one of the prior declinations for the Scientific Advisor position. They promised one another that they would keep the hire secret until after everything was in place for Dr. Shaw's return. The fewer who knew about the venture, the better, and it was more important to give William Osgood the send-off he deserved, not to mention his collective niece the recognition her new position required. Allowing rumor of an old legend's return would have only overshadowed both accomplishments, which was something neither Stewart nor Moore wanted to risk.

Time passed thusly. Winter soon arrived and another Christmas season where the Mainframe was on technical invasion watch despite their Brigadier-Director's insistence that she was going to take off for the holiday. Kate had more important things to do, she decided, as she was planning on hosting Christmas at her house for her in-laws and as many of the kids that could make it. With Marcia's flight grounded in Paris due to a storm sitting over the UK and Lex long having promised to make this the Christmas she visited with Euan's parents, the house was not entirely full that Christmas Eve afternoon, though full enough to make things interesting.

"Up you go," Kanda said, scooping up Conall as he scooted across the sitting room rug towards the brightly-lit Christmas tree. The baby pouted dramatically, wiggling in an attempt to be released so as to exercise his recently-found freedom of movement: the crawl. He had already escaped from his play cot and was determined to investigate the shininess of the decorations, despite the fact he should do nothing of the sort. Instead, Kanda held him tightly as she carried him over to the sleeping Malcolm on the couch, depositing Conall next to his dad. The boy cuddled in happily and the man unconsciously wrapped his arm around the child, holding him in place. "That's better. Now stay with your dad, okay? Make sure he behaves."

Conall made a noise in response and Kanda left the scene, only after snapping a picture on her mobile first, heading into the kitchen. Gordon was there helping Kate bake biscuits, which made it rather convenient for showing both of them the photo.

"…and to think he was so worried at first," Kanda said, showing off the image on her mobile. Gordon silently smirked, while Kate let out an audible laugh. "I see a lot of parents and kids who are very close at work, but this is one of the sweetest examples to-date."

"Don't talk so calmly like that; I can only imagine what he's going to be like when Conall starts school," Kate shivered.

"Probably will be dragged in every other day to the headmaster's office because his son's teaching the other students bad words," Gordon shrugged sarcastically. His mother elbowed him gently in the side. "What…? You know I'm right. You sure as hell aren't going to be the one to answer for it."

"Be nice, dear," Kanda insisted, kissing Gordon on the cheek. "The man can't even understand Star Wars, even though he's seen multiple movies and now works in an environment that is the closest we're going to get to that universe. He needs his vices if he's going to cope."

Flat-out cackling, Gordon stepped away from the biscuit batter and went outside, where even though it was raining, he could howl in laugher as long as he needed to. Kanda effortlessly took up his spot stirring, making certain the batter was completely incorporated before it was poured in the pan.

"That was rather mean, at least for you," Kate mentioned. "You don't really quip like Lex does."

"I have an old-school Asian mam—if I sassed my elders, then I was more likely than Lex to get a smacking, so I'm very used to not saying anything." She shrugged at that, not bothered. "It's just a cultural thing, I guess… or a my mam thing… either way, at least you know I understand sarcasm. A shockingly large amount of people don't. Even I have to be careful when talking to others at work."

"Your students…?"

"My coworkers—some of them act like they've never figured out they're British." It was then that Gordon came back in the house, wiping tears from his eyes as he did so, seemingly calmed down. He only looked nominally-affected by the storm outside, as though he had spent his entire laughing fit in his mother's car. "Gordy—isn't it true that my coworkers are a bunch of wet blankets?"

"I've met Americans with drier wit," he replied. "I don't know what it was about what you said, Kan, but I should not have laughed that hard." He then glanced at the clock, frowning. "Wait… shouldn't Fiona and Florence be back by now? They only went to go get more milk."

"Chances are the stores are either already closed or very busy and running low," Kate said. "I don't expect them back for a while yet."

"Yeah, they might need to find a shop that's not run by a Christian or someone who isn't culturally so," Kanda supposed. "My auntie's store makes a ton of money on Christmas and Easter because so many other shops are closed on holidays she doesn't celebrate."

"It's still my little sister and a madwoman out there, in a named storm, on Christmas Eve, in my car."

"It's not as bad as it could be," Kate mentioned. "We could operate out of Glasburgh, which is dealing with the possibility of flooding. Again."

This shut Gordon up, with him grumbling under his breath as he held his fiancée from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. He grouchily kept up the contact until a sleepy-looking Malcolm walked into the room, Conall giggling as he was carried under one arm like a sack of potatoes.

"Look who's finally awoken from his nap," he observed.

"No one ever told me having a baby was the same as having Jamie's hellspawn cat," Malcolm scowled. He secured Conall in the highchair and found the boy a biscuit to gnaw on. "Suddenly dreamt I was drowning and when I wake up, it's because this thing's sitting on me chest and smacking my collarbone."

"Is that what Mister MacDonald's cat did when you shared a flat?" Kanda wondered.

"Same nightmare and everything—damn thing wanted to be fed despite the fact there was food in its dish. Fucking hated that beast."

"You don't hate Conall though," Kate said.

"Yeah, but that's because there's no dish that's still full and he doesn't jump onto the table while I'm eating or shed in my food or scratch me on the legs for fun."

"Okay… I thought you had a cat before, back with She-Who-Shall-Not-Be -Named," Kanda said, confused.

"Yeah—one that was actually trained and didn't piss all over the house and thought it owned the fucking place," he replied. Malcolm finished putting some formula in Conall's bottle and handed the baby his drink. "Jamie's cat believed it was above being trained."

"You sure it wasn't just the cat acting like its owner?" Gordon deadpanned. Malcolm shrugged, unable to refute the claim. "At least watching you and Conall is good experience for when we start trying in September."

"Don't start trying for these time-and-resource-suckers on your wedding night—enjoy it being the two of you for a bit," Malcolm warned.

"How would you know?" Kate asked. "Conall is our son, but it's not like I had him."

"Didn't need to—our marriage came pre-loaded with a teenager."

It was then that Gordon's car pulled into the drive, the young man letting out a sigh of relief over that topic could finally be changed. "About damn time," he grumbled.

Exiting the car and quickly going into the house, Fiona and Florence both were sopping wet as they attempted to not bring the storm in with them. Conall whimpered from his highchair as wind rushed in, ruffling his fluff of hair and varying papers and wrappers in the kitchen.

"It's a bloody fucking mess out there," Florence snarled. She shivered as she pulled off her coat, still reeling from the weather. "Oh, there now m'boy, don't cry. Granny and Fiona both came back alright." She went to Conall's side and stroked his hair to soothe him. "Don't tell me you're raising a crybaby, Mael."

"Conall's a literal baby, of course he's going to fucking cry," Malcolm groaned. "He'd be a crybaby if he was fifteen and sobbing because a stuffed toy fell off the wardrobe."

"Let's hope it doesn't get to that." Florence plucked the boy from his chair—bottle, biscuit, and all—and took him with her to the sitting room. Fiona, meanwhile, placed the shopping bag on the counter, looking extremely exhausted.

"I'm never volunteering for something like that ever again," she claimed. "I'll risk going without milk in my tea if it means not going out in this weather."

"I told you we had enough milk," Gordon sniped.

"Hey, you could've gone instead of letting your little sister go."

"No one forced you, and I'm not stupid enough to go out in this for just milk. Which we already have plenty of in the fridge."

"I got crisps too! And jam!"

"Children," Kate warned, "behave."

"Ugh, Mum…"

"C'mon; let's get you back over to Granny," Malcolm said. He put a hand on his stepdaughter's upper back and gently moved her along towards the sitting room, where Florence was sipping a drink while watching Conall play on the rug with some soft blocks and chunky toy cars. The baby saw his sister and father and giggled happily—more people to give him attention.

"There you are, you eternal ray of sunshine and joy," Fiona grinned. She sat down crosslegged on the rug and picked up Conall's stuffed penguin, making monster noises to turn him into a rampaging beast stomping on the baby's block towers.

"I have to say, Mael: you really surprised me on this one," Florence said as her son sat next to her. They watched as the siblings interacted, the baby babbling angrily while the teen destroyed more stuffed block towers. "When you worked for the Party, you had no wife, no kids, and no want for either. Now you got a wife, two stepkids, an adopted bairn, you're actually home for a holiday or three…" She sipped at her drink—a Scotch whisky from the cupboard, which she had long been given clearance to partake in. "There's a softness I didn't think was in you… a gentleness I thought you gave up on long ago…"

"You'd be amazed at what being with the right person can do to someone," he replied. There was a long pause between them, in which both kept their eyes on Conall and Fiona. He weighed his options, then decided to say it—fuck it. "Been thinking lately, now that I'm getting plenty of time in with the wean here, and… well… I wish there had been someone like that for you."

"That's a fucking fallacy and you know it."

"The more I think about it, the more it didn't have to be."

"I would have rather raised you and your sister alone, knowing I had no one fucking you up while my back was turned, instead of wasting all that precious time and energy otherwise."

"It didn't have to be while we were growing up. You could've waited until we were older."

"Times were different then, Mael—a marriage meant a woman's freedom died."

"I think you're overreacting."

"You were never a woman, let alone a woman then."

"What I know is that I have a mam who is fucking difficult, who is a piece of fucking work, who should've had a husband or wife decades ago but was too damn proud to do anything about it," he sighed in exasperation.

"I'm not a fucking carpet chewer; if I were to get with someone it would be a someone with a hefty, rideable cock and a decent pair of balls."

"Then why didn't you?"

Florence took another sip of her drink and scowled. "I told you why—don't make me fucking repeat myself." She saw Conall throw a plush block at Fiona's face and furrowed her brow in thought. "Besides, I can't keep my mind off of this bairn you brought home."

"What about…?" Malcolm's heart skipped a beat—fucking fuck.

"There's something that's not right about him," she claimed. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck… "It's almost… unearthly… in a way…"

F-U-C-K

"What would make you say that?" Malcolm scoffed. "He's just a baby, like all of us were at one point."

"There's something about his eyes… what do you know about his birth parents?"

"Shagged too much and couldn't take on the responsibilities like they should or would like to—I imagine it's how a lot of kids are given up for adoption," he replied.

"Were they teens?" Florence wondered, "'cause I thought teens these days had better support systems if they were horny enough to shag while stupid."

"I don't know how old they were," Malcolm insisted. Okay, it was only half a lie—as he knew roughly how old the Doctor and Clara were despite no exact ages—though it was one he eagerly told his mother. "What I do know is that the nip has a more stable environment than he would've had before, and that's the important thing."

"Just stable…?"

"Stable, loving, supportive; for fuck's sake, Mam, what is your problem?"

"I don't have a fucking problem."

"Then why are you grilling me over the extra-bonus-grandkid? He's just a wean. A nip. A child."

"I'm just curious, is all. Lay the fuck off."

"You're the one who needs to lay the fuck off…"

Tired of listening to the arguing, Fiona picked up Conall underneath his arms and brought him over to the two adults, holding him between them. "The Tiniest Tucker says 'no fucking fighting or I'll poopy my nappy to bursting'."

"…Fiona…"

"…Dad…" Fiona paused to let Conall giggle and kick in the air, nearly as though he was jumping. "I keep trying to play Kaiju and the two of you are over here bickering—it's getting annoying."

"Finally admitting Malcolm's annoying?" Gordon said, walking into the sitting room. He and Kanda came in with a plate of biscuits each, which they both placed on a table out of Conall's reach.

"Only when he's fighting with Granny," Fiona admitted. She placed Conall down so that he could return to his toys and she could eat some biscuits. "It's most of what they've been doing the past two days."

"It's how they show each other they care," Gordon deadpanned.

"Whatever you've been listening to, I'm certain it was tame compared to what I've heard," Kanda mentioned. "I was there when Malcolm first announced he was moving to London—now that was a row for the ages."

"I still maintain that it was a fucking dreadful idea at the time," Florence said staunchly. Malcolm rolled his eyes and got off the couch, heading towards the kitchen. "You're only leaving because you know I'm right."

"I'm leaving to see if my wife, who I met thanks to moving to London, needs any help," he retorted. After flipping two fingers for good measure, Malcolm went into the kitchen and saw Kate closing the dishwasher—she was done cleaning up. "Oh good, you're free."

"Why's that?" she wondered. She made a pleased noise as her husband came up to her and wrapped his arms around her, unexpectedly grabbing at her rear as he pressed their bodies together.

"I want to have a shag loud enough that everyone in the house can hear it over the storm."

"…including the kids?"

"Naw; they get to sit outside in the car while Mam and Malcolm remind Granny what she's missing."

"Stop fighting with your mum," she groaned.

"We'll stop fighting when we're fucking dead."

"At least you can even have a conversation with your mother," she reminded him. "Mine can't even remember who I am."

"Yeah, I know," he admitted guiltily. Fuck—she had him there. "I just want her to leave everything the fuck alone. She's getting too nosy."

"She used to be a journalist; it's in her nature."

He kissed up her neck, from the crook to the back of her jaw, murmuring lowly in her ear, "She suspects there's something different about Conall."

"…shit," she realized.

"I tried to make it sound like I thought she was reading too much into things, but who knows how long that'll last." He continued kissing her neck, making it look like they were in the middle of foreplay should they be walked in on. "Be careful; she is more resourceful than anyone I've ever known."

"I shall."

Their conversation was then cut off by the mobile in Malcolm's pocket buzzing: it was Lex. He stepped away from Kate momentarily and swiped the call through, holding the device up to his ear. "Hey kiddo—how's Ayrshire treating you?"

Nothing.

"Lex…? You still there…?" He rolled his eyes and glanced towards Kate. "Must be Nature's passing wind fucking with the call."

"Uncle Malc…?"

Suddenly, all of Malcolm tensed as he heard his niece's voice through the mobile's earpiece. She sounded muffled and coarse, as though she was on the wrong end of a decent cry. Why the fuck was she crying, and why would she be fucking calling him, after sobbing her fucking eyes out, with the weather as bad as it was?

All he knew was there was a man who needed to have an extremely good excuse at the ready.

"Lex? Lex? What's going on?" All he heard was her attempting to speak, but couldn't make out a word through all the blubbering and presumed sinus blockage. "Alexandra, do you need me to come get you? What did that lad do to make you like this?" There was shuffling on the other end—the mobile being passed around.

"Nothing," Euan replied, now on the other end of the call. "We're coming back down to your place right now. We're currently stopped for some petrol and a kebab and saw that the signal was strong here."

"Right now…? It's Christmas Eve, it's fucking storming, and you promised your parents you'd spend the holidays with them."

"I am not going to repeat what they said, but my parents crossed several lines and I am not going to make Lex or myself sit through any more of it," Euan said. "I thought it'd pass, but they've gotten more xenophobic since I moved to London and are very unapologetic about it, to put things nicely. This has gone far beyond being overly-cautious and suspicious regarding strangers; I would not go out in this weather unless I thought it was absolutely necessary, and still I did not hesitate to pack the car."

Malcolm paused, allowing that to sink in. "Don't be shy when it comes to stopping more along the way, and be careful on the M6 while in Cumbria. Go around if possible. They're sitting through some fucking awful flooding if the news is anything to go by. Keep us updated best you can."

"Shall do."

"…and Euan?"

"Malcolm?"

"Thanks for looking after Lex. She chose wisely after all."

"Ha, she has better taste than you realize—see you soon. I'll try to have her text along the way."

At that the call cut and Malcolm was left staring at his mobile. He felt Kate's hand on his shoulder and he turned to look at her.

"What was the call about?" she wondered.

"They're headed here."

"What…?! Lex and Euan?! In this weather…?!"

"Sounds like Mister and Missus McCrae were being less than hospitable," he scowled. He then left the kitchen and poked his head into the sitting room, catching Fiona's attention. "Looks like we're going to need the last room after all—Lex and Euan are on their way."

"What…?!" Fiona, Kanda, and Gordon all marveled at once.

"They must be bananas!" Gordon said.

"How are they seriously planning on getting here?!" Fiona wondered.

"Can't they stay where they are only a day or two more? Why now?" Kanda asked.

"What did the lad's parents do?" Everyone's attention turned towards Florence, who was chewing a biscuit nonchalantly. "It's the only thing that makes sense—Alexandra and her lad are both hopeless academics, but that doesn't mean they're stupid enough to go out in this fucking shit if it wasn't necessary. That would make things very necessary."

"I don't know, but they did say something and Euan said he wasn't going to repeat it," Malcolm explained darkly. "Lex was too busy crying to say much; it must have been fucking vicious."

"Fuck… I'll get everything set," Fiona said. She stood and rushed out of the room, heading for the upstairs.

"Malcolm?" Kanda's voice was now quiet, worry very firmly taken over. "Is Lex alright? Where are they?"

"Didn't say where they stopped, but they're headed back on the road soon." Malcolm watched as Gordon put an arm around Kanda to comfort her, both leaning into one another. "Don't worry, I trust Euan'll get her here safely."

"Are you sure?"

"I know when someone sounds sincere and resolute over a mobile call," he said, "and that lad has more conviction in his decision to drive down here than most of Parliament has on any given day and situation."

"Good," Florence nodded. "If there is one hint of anything else off by the time they get here, I don't care if he is nearly twice my height, because I shall throttle that lad within an inch of his life."

"Something tells me that he's not the one who has to be worried," Malcolm scowled.

Kate glanced around the room and saw the pallor that had settled in, effectively squashing anything festive that had been in the air previous. "Alright everyone," she said, "it's a long way from Ayrshire, so let's get back on track with festivities. Lex and Euan would want us to not let their surprise return back get us down."

Conall babbled seriously from his spot on the floor, where he was scooting his toy car back and forth. He accidentally let go on one swing, sending it across the room to land at Kate's feet. The boy stared at it with his large eyes and began to shake—this was clearly unprecedented. She crouched down and rolled the car back, Conall clapping and giggling loudly as he grabbed for it again.

"I think someone's discovered himself a new game," she said as the toy made its way back to her. She saw as attention began to slowly shift towards Conall, signaling that he was, indeed, doing his job as Youngest Child and Literal Baby rather well. Let the boy be a distraction and everything would smooth over better than it would had he not been there… at least, she hoped.


Thus, they waited.

Dinner was about the same as originally-planned, though despite the text messages that slowly came in throughout the evening, there was still a sense of dread and worry that hung over the occupants of the house as they waited for Lex and Euan to arrive. Conall made it his duty to play with all the sad adults, his cherubic face and light giggles bringing smiles to their faces—however slight. He was still eventually put to bed, with Florence soon behind, then Fiona, then Gordon, and finally Kanda. Malcolm and Kate rode the entire wait out, however, making certain there would be someone to greet the couple upon their arrival.

It wasn't until after two in the morning before Lex's car came puttering down the drive. The rain was finally beginning to lighten, though much of the wind was still there. Lex exited the passenger side and ran into the house, directly into her waiting uncle's arms. She was still sniffling, with her face red and puffy and clearly showing she was breathing from her mouth.

"Fuck… have you been crying since Ayrshire?" Malcolm wondered.

"Pretty much," Euan replied for his girlfriend. He was now in the kitchen, their bags in-hand, having moved quick as possible into the safety of the house. "We were able to avoid the flooding fairly easily, and there wasn't many people on the road to cause much traffic."

"Well, you're here now, and that's what matters," Kate assured. "Have you talked to Marcia?"

"Her mobile's been doing funny things in France, so we didn't bother," Euan said. "We don't want one text to go through and not the other, let alone the call to drop mid-sentence."

"Fair enough." Kate looked at her husband and niece, seeing that his face was one that was reserved for only a special brand of ire. He was keeping Lex close, patting her with one hand while the other arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Malcolm?"

"Yes?"

"Show Lex and Euan to their room—they must be exhausted."

He paused for a moment before kissing the top of Lex's head. "Let's get you settled, yeah? You can vent all about it in time."

Lex nodded silently and allowed her uncle to help her and Euan to the room they were going to share. He gave Euan a nod on the way out and vice versa—they were now safe.

Heading back to his own room, Malcolm was just barely able to aim for the bed as he collapsed in exhaustion. All the worrying he'd done beat the everliving fuck out of him, and now he was ready to pass out and not exist for a while. He felt Kate get into bed as well, her weight on the mattress a comfort. Grabbing her around the middle, he snugged up along her back and settled further into sleep for the night.

"Malcolm…?"

"Yeah Kate…?"

"Don't get to comfortable."

"…and why the fuck not?" He was too achy and irritable for this—he was going to risk becoming a grand old tit if he stayed up only a few minutes longer.

"We forgot to put out the presents."

…shit.


Nearly the entire morning had passed before the Stewart-Tuckers all began to wake up, thoroughly exhausted from the day before. Everyone was glad to see Lex and Euan, even though the former had a massive headache and the latter was extremely grouchy and quiet. It did not matter that it was now Christmas proper—a sour sort of air hung about the house as they ate breakfast and gathered in the sitting room.

"Here we are, Conall," Fiona said gently as she sat down next to the tree with her baby brother. She set him down on the floor and pulled a brightly-wrapped present towards him. He watched with wide eyes as she tore a small hole in the wrapping to reveal something underneath. After placing his hand on the hole, she moved it so more of the paper tore, eliciting a surprised squeak out of him. Conall ripped off more of the paper, revealing a soft toy Silurian. The baby cooed and hugged the toy in excitement.

"At least someone's having a good time," Gordon noted. He was seated in one of the oversized chairs, with Kanda sitting on the arm, both of them looking not at Conall, but at Lex and Euan on the sofa. "How about you guys? Are you alright?"

"At your own pace," Kate insisted. She was standing by the tree, allowing her daughter and youngest son to continue opening presents while under supervision, while her husband and mother-in-law were across the room on the couch. "Don't talk unless you want to."

"They said I'm not good enough… that we're not good enough," Lex said quietly. She stared at Conall as he opened another present, this one a play lawnmower. "They said we're part of why things are supposedly going sour."

"What did they say so that I can make certain that the punishment matches the crime?" Florence demanded coolly. Lex shook her head and looked at her grandmother, refusing in her silence. "Alexandra, what happened?"

"My parents learned their prospective daughter-in-law and her family had roots from off the island, and they reacted poorly," Euan frowned. "They are normally the sort of people to clean up their act in such a situation, but instead they lashed out. We… had a row."

"It sounds like a lot more than a simple row to me," Malcolm scowled. "A row is what happens when you forget to take the turkey out and it's fucking frozen on Christmas Eve; this was much worse."

"What do you mean by 'clean up their act', lad?" Florence asked. "Do you have a habit of bringing home people they don't approve of?"

"No—if they don't like something or someone and we're in public or with company, they've normally gone and waited until later to complain or question me about it. Worst they've generally been was suspicious over who new neighbors were, or passing tourists, wondering if anyone would bring trouble with them. This time… they've made their stance clear."

"…and they threw you out in the middle of a storm," Kate surmised.

"No—they said I could stay until the storm passed," Lex said, "but Euan refused. If I wasn't welcome, then we weren't staying. He didn't want anything else to happen."

"We appreciate that more than we can say," Malcolm said.

"Wait… is this because of me…?" Kanda wondered cautiously. "You've gotten into fights for me before…"

"I wish that were just the case," Euan said, shaking his head. "If it was over one person, we could figure out a way to approach making them act more civil, but this is far worse."

"So then it's also me, and my sister, and Lex herself," Gordon said.

"It's everyone, in one way or the other," Lex added.

"I should have known something was wrong when we first got in: my mam said she hadn't talked with our one neighbor from down the road in months," Euan explained. "She came from Greece back in the Fifties as a child and was essentially the devoted neighborhood aunt; either my parents decided to cut ties or they said something that made her do so."

"So this came from nowhere?" Kate asked.

"Far as I know—I have been in London for a long time, so something could have happened between now and then, but what put them on this path… I cannot say." Euan looked at his hands and exhaled heavily. "You never expect something like this out of the ones who raised you, especially if they were so different before. They were never like this… no one we know is like this… I still don't know what to say…"

"I think your exit last night will give them enough to think about," Kate assured. "They won't want to lose their only child like that."

"We'll see," Euan replied. "Until then, I don't plan on going back, and if I want to visit old mates I'm staying at the pub."

"I think between Mam, Marcia, and us, we can find room for you at any Tucker gathering," Malcolm said.

"They better fucking hope they've made up with you before I meet their pathetic sacks of skin," Florence scowled. "No one treats one of my grandchildren like that and gets away with it without apologizing. Pro-fucking-fusely. This includes you now, lad."

"I thank you for being so welcoming and understanding, everyone," Euan said. "This... this is rough. I never really fought with my parents like this before, and now… I don't know how to go from here."

"When you're ready, you'll know," Kate said. "My father and I didn't talk for years—he completely missed Gordon being born and didn't know he existed until early Primary, but once he did… he was one of the most devoted granddads and we were stronger than ever."

"Really…?"

"Yeah," Gordon chimed in. "Don't worry. What will happen shall happen, and until then, we're all here for you."

"Thank you." Euan's eyes began to well with tears, interrupted by Conall abandoning his presents and crawling over, holding his arms up once he sat down in front of him. "Oh, you want to be held? Only if your nappy's clean, you naughty wean." He lifted the boy up to his lap and bounced him gently. Conall giggled happily, which only seemed to make Euan more melancholy. Seemingly sensing that the man was sad, the baby crawled down his lap and snuggled in close to his chest in a hug. He then bounced up and gave Euan a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the cheek, wobbling as he moved over towards Lex to do the same.

"Oh, such a good boy you are, making sure your cousins are feeling better," Lex chuckled half-heartedly. "Is he always this good at being able to tell when people need cheering up?"

"I'm not sure if it's a talent or if it's purely because he's a baby," Kate said. "I can't deny that he's the best at making people feel better."

"Fucking odd if you ask me," Florence mentioned. She watched as Lex placed Conall back on the floor and the baby scooted over towards a new present to open.

"Lay off it, Mam—he's a fucking baby," Malcolm groaned. "If anything he's odd because he's the next Tucker in line and the fact he has fucking empathy is confusing you."

"Yeah, and I thought you were hiding being a fucking poof for so long and now you go and do this to me—all this wholesome biscuit-tin shite almost makes me want to vomit."

"…and what would fucking stop me from getting remarried and gaining stepkids and adopting a bairn if I was a fucking poof and Kate was Al the Second? How is that family not wholesome?"

"I said biscuit-tin shite; open your fucking ears!"

"I don't even understand what the fuck you're trying to say!"

As Malcolm and Florence continued to loudly argue, Kate decided to take it upon herself to keep Christmas morning going and passed out some gifts. She brought Kanda and Gordon one each, then Fiona, and then bringing over some to Lex and Euan.

"I think I prefer this sort of row," Euan said as he accepted his present. He watched as the fight moved itself over to the other side of the room, then went towards the kitchen so that the rest of the house muffled the sounds of mother and son bickering. "At least we know Granny's just apt at putting things… oddly…"

"Get used to it—chances are I'll be like that one day," Lex teased.

"…like how? An ornery piece of shite?" Gordon teased. He laughed as he was flipped two fingers and reciprocated. Kate chuckled as well, glad to see that the family was now easing back towards something more akin to their normal now that everyone was together.

Now if only, she thought, she could stop the squabbling in the kitchen.


A/N: I would just like to take this opportunity to apologize to all of Darvel, which is where the McCraes are supposed to be from. It seems like a lovely wee rural town from the outside perspective, but even the loveliest of places can have their versions of Euan's parents. How nice it seems is part of why I chose it, along with the fact it used to be the nexus of a booming local industry (lace, then textiles in general) that is now all but completely dead. Being someone who is very proud of where they're from despite the waning local industry, I've seen varying shades of Euan's folks pop up in my own hometown in recent years, to my own horror and discomfort. It's rough, and I know that for a fact, so please know that I'm not here to start shit regarding such things.