I'm a bit meh about this drabble, but I promised fluff, so fluff it is. I wrote this based on the prompt "It's six o'clock in the morning, babe, you're not having vodka" a few months ago, as somewhat of a sequel to the "Stay Awake" drabble. I apparently was in a Christmas mood in October (ironic, since I'm not in one on December 19).
I feel like I need a gif of Henry in a Santa hat for illustration.
"Coffee, please, for the love of God." Elizabeth stumbled blearily through the doorway, her ears ringing with her children's happy screeching at their Christmas presents.
"And turn that off!" she admonished Henry, who had followed her into the kitchen and flipped on the overhead light.
"Merry Christmas to you, too," Henry replied, as cheerfully as he could muster.
"We covered the 'merry' already," Elizabeth grumbled, fishing frantically through the pockets of her robe.
"That we did. Try to be more enthusiastic, would ya?." Henry tapped Elizabeth's glasses with his finger, sliding them from the top of her head down to her nose. He chuckled when she scrunched her face at him, blinking in surprise.
"I had plenty of enthusiasm, if you remember correctly. I'll have more once I get coffee." Focus renewed, Elizabeth padded to the corner cabinets, banging doors in her haste, all while muttering under her breath.
"For someone who's complaining about the noise, you're sure making a lot of it," Henry pointed out. When Elizabeth ignored him, he moved to the coffee machine, which he had wisely set up the night before, anticipating his wife's hangover- and hatred of mornings. "There's no coffee over there, you know."
He glanced back over his shoulder at Elizabeth's triumphant 'ah ha'.
"It's six o'clock in the morning, babe, you're not having vodka."
Elizabeth squinted down at the object in her hand. She read the label, pursed her lips, then shoved the bottle back in the cabinet and grabbed another.
"Yes, I am, but I was actually looking for the bourbon." At Henry's dubious look, she responded, "A little hair of the dog always worked in college."
"No, what worked in college was youth," Henry resolutely corrected her. "We're slowly losing that advantage."
Elizabeth glared him. "It's Christmas morning and you're being insulting?"
"Not an insult. Reality."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Henry hid his amusement, schooling his expression into his lecture face.
"Despite the loss of our youth, we're all the more wiser now and have three beautiful kids." He paused, as if waiting for the punchline. "All of which were your idea." Henry grinned, as the din from the living room increased in volume, and Elizabeth cringed in response.
"The third one's on you." She waved the green bottle in his direction. "Even more reason to try this again."
"No, no bourbon. Just coffee." Henry thrust a porcelain mug at his wife, trying to quickly distract her, then thought better about his actions. He grabbed her hand instead and gently pressed her fingers around the steaming mug. "Try this." He took the Jameson from her other hand, and put it away.
Elziabeth took a gulp, yelped as the heat burned her mouth, then took another huge swallow.
"Careful." Henry appraised his wife for a minute, shaking his head in resignation. "I'm not going to say I told you so."
"Good. You didn't last night, and look where it got you."
"Hmmm…." He leaned in closer, murmuring his approval. "That was quite the present. I never expected Mrs. Claus to be that naughty."
Suddenly, Jason barrelled into the kitchen. Henry managed to dodge flailing arms and churning legs, but their three year old tackled his mother at full speed. Elizabeth jolted, barely managing to stabilize herself before spilling coffee everywhere.
"MOMMY! We want to open presents!"
Henry peeled their son off Elizabeth's legs. "Ok, Jase, tell your sisters we're coming." He turned Jason around, nudging him back towards the living room. "Mommy needs to satisfy her caffeine addiction."
As Elizabeth snorted, he retorted playfully, "You're such a Scrooge."
"I am not. I'm just not a morning person."
"Well, technically last night was this morning, so I'd say you're very good at mornings...," he trailed off, wagging his eyebrows at her suggestively, exaggerating his wink.
"Nope. Doesn't count. Last night was definitely last night. We've slept since then." She grimaced. "Kinda." Now she surveyed him suspiciously. "How come you don't look as bad as I feel?"
"You look radiant, babe."
"Uh, huh. Liar." She narrowed her eyes at him over the rim of her mug.
"Because I didn't drink nearly two bottles of wine last night," he put the words in air quotes, "while wrapping presents," Henry reminded her, unapologetically. He lowered his voice. "For the record, the sex was totally worth the two hours of sleep."
"It was, wasn't it." Elizabeth grinned smugly into her coffee.
Henry stepped behind Elizabeth and massaged her upper arms, squeezing her biceps gently. "Come on, babe, you're just gonna have to suck it up."
She jerked away from him. "You didn't just say that."
"Yeah, I did." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"That's as bad as I told you so." As Henry's smile widened, she continued, "you're enjoying this way too much."
"Enjoying this, and you. And you'll enjoy every minute of Christmas morning." Henry cautiously wrapped his arms around his wife, drawing her back into his chest when she didn't protest. He nuzzled her neck, humming against her skin in contentment. "The kids will be blissfully happy for a few hours while you indulge in your love of cheesy Hallmark movies."
Elizabeth tilted her head to give him more access as Henry's lips trailed down to her collarbone. "Oohh, and then naptime." She perked up at the possibilities.
"Then naptime," Henry acknowledged, laughing at her predictability, "and maybe I'll enjoy you even more." He shuffled them both slowly toward their children's gleeful chatter and the glow of the Christmas tree. "Let's go, Mrs Claus."