Title: A Shining Star
Rating: PG
Spoilers: You should know what's been going on during season 9. There are also some
references to "Hindsight," though definitely nothing major. Just be warned–this is pure sap.
Archive: Would love it.
Disclaimer: Yeah. They're mine. Sure. 'Tis the seasonal to be delusional.
Author's Notes: At the end.
He's only been gone for five days, I really shouldn't miss him this much.
I should find it sad that my happiness hinges on the presence of one man.
But I don't.
I think I've finally come to terms with the fact that I need Carter in my life. Not just want–need.
He's the only reason I'm actually kind of looking forward to Christmas this year. I really wasn't
expecting to be able to find any joy in the season this time around (ooh! Something new and
different for me). But this is our first Christmas together. That in itself is kind of exciting.
Susan and I talked about that the other day, actually. We both thought it was odd when she was
with Carter at Christmas last year, and when I was with Luka the year before, neither of us had
the thought that it was our first Christmas with the guy: We just happened to be a part of a couple
at Christmas. But this year is different. I feel like I have a future with John and that this year is
just the beginning.
So, I'm a little excited that he's coming home today. He was supposed to be back yesterday, but
the flight got cancelled, which must have sucked for a lot of people this time of year. But he has
a great travel agent, so he got a flight out today. I think I may have to send that woman a fruit
basket or something because she managed to get him a flight on Christmas Eve. And I probably
would have flipped out if we couldn't spend our first Christmas together. Or, I would've stolen
Carter's Jeep and driven to Boston.
He's not really expecting me to pick him up at the airport. I had planned on it yesterday, but told
him I wasn't sure I'd be able to work it out with my schedule today. He actually believed that.
Of course I was going to find some way to work it out. I mean, hello. He would do the same for
me. Actually, he's already done the same for me, basically. I'm not going to make him take a
cab home.
I finally hear that his flight has landed, and I stand at the edge of the crowd, hoping to surprise
him. A few minutes later, people start pouring out of the plane, Carter among them. I see him
look around for me, then see his face drop when he can't find me. He makes his way slowly
through the crowd, coming right at me. In fact, he almost walks into me before he realizes who it
is. And, I swear, his face lights up.
"Hey," I say.
"Hi," he answers, grinning. And then our arms are around each other, hugging like we haven't
seen one another in a year instead of a week. I barely even notice that he picks me up and that
my feet are dangling about a foot off the ground.
"I missed you," I whisper.
"Ditto," he mumbles into my neck, making me shiver a little.
He finally puts me down, but we only release each other fractionally, pulling apart just enough
for us to be able to see each other. I smile up at him and ask, "How was Boston? How was your
dad?"
He shakes his head a little and says, "First things first." Then he leans down and kisses me. I
think I hear the Hallelujah Chorus in the background. Since we started going out, I haven't gone
more than twenty-four hours without kissing him, and the only reason we go that long is because
of work–our shifts won't coincide, or even if we manage to catch each other work when our
shifts start twelve hours apart, something will somehow prevent us from taking a little smooch
break.
We pull apart from each other only because we're in a crowded terminal and there are people all
around us in a hurry and we're blocking their way. He takes my hand and we begin our journey
to baggage claim.
"I had to take care of that before I could deal with anything else," he explains. "Boston was fine.
Cold and crowded, filled with hostile Bostonians who wanted nothing more than to shove the
tourists into the street. Other than that, it's a nice place." I couldn't help but chuckle a
little–sounds like any major city during the holiday season. "Dad was okay. I think he was a
little weirded out about being alone for Christmas, but he seems to be holding up well. I think he
actually misses my mother, in his own way. Or at least he misses the constant company."
He tells me more about Boston and his father as we locate his bags then head out to the parking
lot. We load his stuff into the Jeep, then I take the driver's seat, not really even thinking about
it–I've gotten used to driving again the past few days.
He leans over and whispers in my ear, "You know, you're the only person I've ever trusted to
drive my car. It must be love."
I laugh softly. "You have a very strange attachment to your car, Dr. Carter."
I see him shrug out of the corner of my eye. "She was the only woman in my life before you. I
try to treat her well."
I turn my head to look at him. "I think she's a little bit bitter that she's not your only girl
anymore. She worked for me, but I could tell she didn't like it."
"She'll just have to get over it." He leans in and kisses me once more, and God does it feel good.
If I didn't know better, I would have sworn we were a couple of teenagers. We stopped just short
of fogging up the windows before I start the car and take us home.
He's quiet for most of the trip, so I keep glancing over at him just to make sure he's awake.
"Tired?" I finally ask.
"Not really. The plane trip wasn't that bad, and the time difference is nothing, really. I think I
may just be a little worn out from trying to entertain my father. I've never really had to do that
before."
I simply nod, and a few minutes later we pull up to my apartment. Lately, we've been going
back and forth between our places. I wanted to stay at my place when I was trying to find Eric,
so he'd know where I was if he wanted to find me, and now we just play it by ear. My place just
happened to be marginally closer to the airport than his. I help him drag his stuff up to the
apartment, and watch for his reaction as he enters the place.
It takes him a few moments to notice, then he says, "Wow. You've really spruced up the joint."
I shut the door and wrap my arms around him from behind. While he was away, I made the place
Christmasy. I bought a small tree and decorated it, put the gifts I've bought him under said tree
(he's a very hard man to shop for, but I managed), strung up some extra lights around the living
room and kitchen, and strategically placed some red and green candles. Hell, I even bought a
poinsettia and put up some mistletoe.
"It's our first Christmas together. I wanted it to be nice."
"It would have been nice no matter what," he tells me, covering my hands with his own.
"Okay then, I wanted it to look nice. I was feeling seasonal, so I decided to go with it."
"It looks great." He brings my hands up to his mouth and kisses them gently. I release him and
let him take off his jacket.
I strip off my own and say, "It gets better. I've even bought stuff so we can have an actual
Christmas dinner tomorrow before we go over to Susan's." I pause for a moment, wondering if it
sounds like I'm trying to control him or something–I mean, he never actually said he wanted to
go over there. I just figured he'd want to. "Unless you're not feeling up to going over to her
place. We can just stay here, if you want."
"Why wouldn't I want to go over to Susan's? Just as long as I get to spend plenty of quality time
with you first." He drags his stuff into the bedroom to unpack and calls back to me, "Just don't
forget we have to go and visit Gamma, too. I don't even want to imagine the hell I'd have to pay
if I didn't see her at Christmas."
"I haven't forgotten," I answer. "In fact, she called yesterday to remind us."
He comes out of the bedroom a few moments later and says, "So, you're actually going to cook
dinner?"
I give him a gentle shove. "Hey now. You know, I actually can cook. Just because I don't do it
often doesn't mean I don't have the ability. And, I was hoping that you'd help out a little." I bat
my eyes at him, hoping he'll get the hint.
He laughs at me. "You actually want me to cook? I hope you don't mind if the food's a
little...Cajun. Cooking is not one of my strong suits."
"We'll do it together and see what happens. It'll be an adventure."
"Adventure. Sure. That's a word for my cooking. Not one I'd use, but it's a word."
I give his ass a playful slap then sit down on the couch. "What do you want to do about dinner
tonight? Personally, I was thinking Chinese take-out. Maybe start a new tradition."
"What kind of tradition?" He comes over and sits down next to me, putting his feet in my lap.
"Chinese food, or take-out in general."
"Well, we can play with it until we find a nationality that suits us, but we can go with Chinese for
now."
"Works for me." He reaches over and grabs the take-out menu which has been oh-so-
conveniently placed on the coffee table. "The usual?" he asks, grabbing the phone and dialing.
I simply nod–he knows me well. I push his legs off me and go over to the tree and dig out a
small gift, then return to the couch, cuddling into his side. He finishes placing the order and
says, "They'll be here in about forty-five minutes." He gives the present in my lap a curious
look, then says, "What's that?"
I shrug. "Don't know. Susan gave it to me a couple of days ago and said it was for both of us,
and that we could open it on Christmas Eve, if we really wanted to. And since I can't fight the
temptation any longer, let's open it now."
I don't think he has any problem with that because he immediately grabs the other side of the
package and positions himself to open it. "Ready?"
I nod, and we tear into the paper and come to a box a moment later. He lifts the lid off of it, and
I pull open the tissue paper, and there lies an ornament. It's silver and shaped like a star with a
large circle in the middle for a picture. At the top edge of the circle, it says, "Our First
Christmas." At the bottom edge, it says, "John & Abby 2002." And right smack in the middle is
a picture of us taken the night of Susan's Christmas party. It was taken relatively early in the
evening; Carter was sitting in an arm chair, and I was sitting on his lap, not only because it was
comfortable, but because there were no other seats available.
"Oh, wow," I whisper. "This is..." My voice drifts off, unable to think of a word for it.
"Yeah," he answers, his voice just as soft. "Definitely."
"I can't believe she did this."
"That's Susan for you. Miss Sentimentality."
I grin and pick up the ornament by the string attached to the top point of the star and let it dangle.
"This is so unbelievably thoughtful," I say, awe evident in my voice, even to myself.
The star twists a little, and I see that there's something on the back. I turn it around, and find that
the same words have been engraved, but there's a different picture. This one is the two of us
kissing under the mistletoe. We'd only been there for about five minutes before we got stuck
under the mistletoe, and since there were only three or four people there at the time, Jing-Mei
being one of them, they talked us into a public display of affection, and Susan took a picture of
us in the act. I was a little irritated at the time, but it turned out really well.
"This is beautiful," Carter says, taking the ornament from my hands to look at it more closely.
"It almost seems like a waste to only take it out at Christmas time."
I nod in agreement, and pull out a folded piece of paper. I open it up and smile as I read it.
"What's it say?"
"It says, 'I figured you two wouldn't think to commemorate your first major holiday together, so
I did it for you. Merry Christmas! Love, Susan.'" I lean a little closer to Carter and wrap an arm
around his waist. "We have a great a friend. We must remember to keep her around for a
while."
I feel more than hear his chuckle, and we get up to hang the ornament–it goes at the top of the
tree (granted, the tree's not very high because I can reach it without stretching and that's saying
something), right in the center so we have a good view of it. Then we settle on the couch once
more and turn on the TV, coming across the movie Scrooged. The arrival of our food barely
phases us, and we manage to inhale the food without really noticing. Carter decides he needs to
take a shower to wash Boston off him, but by that point, I'm so engrossed in A Christmas Story
that I barely notice his absence until my side grows cold. Of course, by that point, he was done
bathing and returning to my side. Once that movie is over, we decide to call it an early night and
go to bed. We don't go directly to sleep, though.
We still have those fuzzy handcuffs to try out.
That actually turns out to be kind of fun. It was more fun when I slapped them on Carter than
when I was actually wearing them myself, but I guess you have to deal with being on the
receiving end of something like that if you want to be on the giving end.
I think we both passed out immediately after our trip to the kinky side of things. I couldn't have
been out very long before I felt him shaking my shoulder. "Abby. Aaaabbeeeee."
I bury my face in my pillow and practically bark, "What?"
"Come on; get up! It's Christmas morning."
I lift my head a little and look at him with one eye for a moment, then return to the pillow. "The
sun's not even out yet."
"Sure it is. It's 8am. There are just clouds in front of it."
"Okay, the sun's not out in California yet. Leave me alone."
"But Santa came to visit us last night." Carter plants a kiss on my shoulder. "Well, he visited
you, actually."
I moan a little. "Do I have to get up?"
"Yes."
I sigh, then rollover. I wouldn't have been able to get back to sleep at this point, anyway. He
sounded way too excited for me to ignore him. "Okay, okay, I'm up."
Immediately, he grabs a cup of coffee of the night stand and hands it to me. Smart man. I have
him trained well.
I take a few moments to let the coffee kick in, then say, "So, Santa came here, did he?"
"It looks that way. There's more stuff under the tree than there was last night. You should come
out and see." With that, he hops out of bed and holds my (his) bathrobe open for me, practically
bouncing with excitement. I feel myself starting to catch some of his joy, so I grin at him and
pull myself out of bed and let him dress me in the robe. I give him a kiss before going to brush
my teeth.
"Merry Christmas, Abby," I hear him call from the living room. My mouth's full of toothpaste,
so I can't really answer at this point. "Love you."
I can't help the grin that spreads over my face. For the first time in a while, I feel happy. Not
anything else, just happy. And it feels great.
I can't wait to spend every Christmas with this man for the rest of my life.
Author's Notes: Okay, so basically, I hate Christmas. Personal reasons. It's sad and depressing
and just generally not good. So, I decided that I needed to write something extraordinarily sappy
and sweet to counteract this feeling. Poor Carter and Abby need a little joy in their lives right
now. And I'd much rather write something happy and fluffy than angsty (trust me, I enjoy
angst–I just don't like writing it). This has actually been floating around in my head for a few
days, so I finally decided to get on it. I don't know if this was worth the wait to those of you who
may have been eager for my next fic, but I hope you enjoyed it!
Rating: PG
Spoilers: You should know what's been going on during season 9. There are also some
references to "Hindsight," though definitely nothing major. Just be warned–this is pure sap.
Archive: Would love it.
Disclaimer: Yeah. They're mine. Sure. 'Tis the seasonal to be delusional.
Author's Notes: At the end.
He's only been gone for five days, I really shouldn't miss him this much.
I should find it sad that my happiness hinges on the presence of one man.
But I don't.
I think I've finally come to terms with the fact that I need Carter in my life. Not just want–need.
He's the only reason I'm actually kind of looking forward to Christmas this year. I really wasn't
expecting to be able to find any joy in the season this time around (ooh! Something new and
different for me). But this is our first Christmas together. That in itself is kind of exciting.
Susan and I talked about that the other day, actually. We both thought it was odd when she was
with Carter at Christmas last year, and when I was with Luka the year before, neither of us had
the thought that it was our first Christmas with the guy: We just happened to be a part of a couple
at Christmas. But this year is different. I feel like I have a future with John and that this year is
just the beginning.
So, I'm a little excited that he's coming home today. He was supposed to be back yesterday, but
the flight got cancelled, which must have sucked for a lot of people this time of year. But he has
a great travel agent, so he got a flight out today. I think I may have to send that woman a fruit
basket or something because she managed to get him a flight on Christmas Eve. And I probably
would have flipped out if we couldn't spend our first Christmas together. Or, I would've stolen
Carter's Jeep and driven to Boston.
He's not really expecting me to pick him up at the airport. I had planned on it yesterday, but told
him I wasn't sure I'd be able to work it out with my schedule today. He actually believed that.
Of course I was going to find some way to work it out. I mean, hello. He would do the same for
me. Actually, he's already done the same for me, basically. I'm not going to make him take a
cab home.
I finally hear that his flight has landed, and I stand at the edge of the crowd, hoping to surprise
him. A few minutes later, people start pouring out of the plane, Carter among them. I see him
look around for me, then see his face drop when he can't find me. He makes his way slowly
through the crowd, coming right at me. In fact, he almost walks into me before he realizes who it
is. And, I swear, his face lights up.
"Hey," I say.
"Hi," he answers, grinning. And then our arms are around each other, hugging like we haven't
seen one another in a year instead of a week. I barely even notice that he picks me up and that
my feet are dangling about a foot off the ground.
"I missed you," I whisper.
"Ditto," he mumbles into my neck, making me shiver a little.
He finally puts me down, but we only release each other fractionally, pulling apart just enough
for us to be able to see each other. I smile up at him and ask, "How was Boston? How was your
dad?"
He shakes his head a little and says, "First things first." Then he leans down and kisses me. I
think I hear the Hallelujah Chorus in the background. Since we started going out, I haven't gone
more than twenty-four hours without kissing him, and the only reason we go that long is because
of work–our shifts won't coincide, or even if we manage to catch each other work when our
shifts start twelve hours apart, something will somehow prevent us from taking a little smooch
break.
We pull apart from each other only because we're in a crowded terminal and there are people all
around us in a hurry and we're blocking their way. He takes my hand and we begin our journey
to baggage claim.
"I had to take care of that before I could deal with anything else," he explains. "Boston was fine.
Cold and crowded, filled with hostile Bostonians who wanted nothing more than to shove the
tourists into the street. Other than that, it's a nice place." I couldn't help but chuckle a
little–sounds like any major city during the holiday season. "Dad was okay. I think he was a
little weirded out about being alone for Christmas, but he seems to be holding up well. I think he
actually misses my mother, in his own way. Or at least he misses the constant company."
He tells me more about Boston and his father as we locate his bags then head out to the parking
lot. We load his stuff into the Jeep, then I take the driver's seat, not really even thinking about
it–I've gotten used to driving again the past few days.
He leans over and whispers in my ear, "You know, you're the only person I've ever trusted to
drive my car. It must be love."
I laugh softly. "You have a very strange attachment to your car, Dr. Carter."
I see him shrug out of the corner of my eye. "She was the only woman in my life before you. I
try to treat her well."
I turn my head to look at him. "I think she's a little bit bitter that she's not your only girl
anymore. She worked for me, but I could tell she didn't like it."
"She'll just have to get over it." He leans in and kisses me once more, and God does it feel good.
If I didn't know better, I would have sworn we were a couple of teenagers. We stopped just short
of fogging up the windows before I start the car and take us home.
He's quiet for most of the trip, so I keep glancing over at him just to make sure he's awake.
"Tired?" I finally ask.
"Not really. The plane trip wasn't that bad, and the time difference is nothing, really. I think I
may just be a little worn out from trying to entertain my father. I've never really had to do that
before."
I simply nod, and a few minutes later we pull up to my apartment. Lately, we've been going
back and forth between our places. I wanted to stay at my place when I was trying to find Eric,
so he'd know where I was if he wanted to find me, and now we just play it by ear. My place just
happened to be marginally closer to the airport than his. I help him drag his stuff up to the
apartment, and watch for his reaction as he enters the place.
It takes him a few moments to notice, then he says, "Wow. You've really spruced up the joint."
I shut the door and wrap my arms around him from behind. While he was away, I made the place
Christmasy. I bought a small tree and decorated it, put the gifts I've bought him under said tree
(he's a very hard man to shop for, but I managed), strung up some extra lights around the living
room and kitchen, and strategically placed some red and green candles. Hell, I even bought a
poinsettia and put up some mistletoe.
"It's our first Christmas together. I wanted it to be nice."
"It would have been nice no matter what," he tells me, covering my hands with his own.
"Okay then, I wanted it to look nice. I was feeling seasonal, so I decided to go with it."
"It looks great." He brings my hands up to his mouth and kisses them gently. I release him and
let him take off his jacket.
I strip off my own and say, "It gets better. I've even bought stuff so we can have an actual
Christmas dinner tomorrow before we go over to Susan's." I pause for a moment, wondering if it
sounds like I'm trying to control him or something–I mean, he never actually said he wanted to
go over there. I just figured he'd want to. "Unless you're not feeling up to going over to her
place. We can just stay here, if you want."
"Why wouldn't I want to go over to Susan's? Just as long as I get to spend plenty of quality time
with you first." He drags his stuff into the bedroom to unpack and calls back to me, "Just don't
forget we have to go and visit Gamma, too. I don't even want to imagine the hell I'd have to pay
if I didn't see her at Christmas."
"I haven't forgotten," I answer. "In fact, she called yesterday to remind us."
He comes out of the bedroom a few moments later and says, "So, you're actually going to cook
dinner?"
I give him a gentle shove. "Hey now. You know, I actually can cook. Just because I don't do it
often doesn't mean I don't have the ability. And, I was hoping that you'd help out a little." I bat
my eyes at him, hoping he'll get the hint.
He laughs at me. "You actually want me to cook? I hope you don't mind if the food's a
little...Cajun. Cooking is not one of my strong suits."
"We'll do it together and see what happens. It'll be an adventure."
"Adventure. Sure. That's a word for my cooking. Not one I'd use, but it's a word."
I give his ass a playful slap then sit down on the couch. "What do you want to do about dinner
tonight? Personally, I was thinking Chinese take-out. Maybe start a new tradition."
"What kind of tradition?" He comes over and sits down next to me, putting his feet in my lap.
"Chinese food, or take-out in general."
"Well, we can play with it until we find a nationality that suits us, but we can go with Chinese for
now."
"Works for me." He reaches over and grabs the take-out menu which has been oh-so-
conveniently placed on the coffee table. "The usual?" he asks, grabbing the phone and dialing.
I simply nod–he knows me well. I push his legs off me and go over to the tree and dig out a
small gift, then return to the couch, cuddling into his side. He finishes placing the order and
says, "They'll be here in about forty-five minutes." He gives the present in my lap a curious
look, then says, "What's that?"
I shrug. "Don't know. Susan gave it to me a couple of days ago and said it was for both of us,
and that we could open it on Christmas Eve, if we really wanted to. And since I can't fight the
temptation any longer, let's open it now."
I don't think he has any problem with that because he immediately grabs the other side of the
package and positions himself to open it. "Ready?"
I nod, and we tear into the paper and come to a box a moment later. He lifts the lid off of it, and
I pull open the tissue paper, and there lies an ornament. It's silver and shaped like a star with a
large circle in the middle for a picture. At the top edge of the circle, it says, "Our First
Christmas." At the bottom edge, it says, "John & Abby 2002." And right smack in the middle is
a picture of us taken the night of Susan's Christmas party. It was taken relatively early in the
evening; Carter was sitting in an arm chair, and I was sitting on his lap, not only because it was
comfortable, but because there were no other seats available.
"Oh, wow," I whisper. "This is..." My voice drifts off, unable to think of a word for it.
"Yeah," he answers, his voice just as soft. "Definitely."
"I can't believe she did this."
"That's Susan for you. Miss Sentimentality."
I grin and pick up the ornament by the string attached to the top point of the star and let it dangle.
"This is so unbelievably thoughtful," I say, awe evident in my voice, even to myself.
The star twists a little, and I see that there's something on the back. I turn it around, and find that
the same words have been engraved, but there's a different picture. This one is the two of us
kissing under the mistletoe. We'd only been there for about five minutes before we got stuck
under the mistletoe, and since there were only three or four people there at the time, Jing-Mei
being one of them, they talked us into a public display of affection, and Susan took a picture of
us in the act. I was a little irritated at the time, but it turned out really well.
"This is beautiful," Carter says, taking the ornament from my hands to look at it more closely.
"It almost seems like a waste to only take it out at Christmas time."
I nod in agreement, and pull out a folded piece of paper. I open it up and smile as I read it.
"What's it say?"
"It says, 'I figured you two wouldn't think to commemorate your first major holiday together, so
I did it for you. Merry Christmas! Love, Susan.'" I lean a little closer to Carter and wrap an arm
around his waist. "We have a great a friend. We must remember to keep her around for a
while."
I feel more than hear his chuckle, and we get up to hang the ornament–it goes at the top of the
tree (granted, the tree's not very high because I can reach it without stretching and that's saying
something), right in the center so we have a good view of it. Then we settle on the couch once
more and turn on the TV, coming across the movie Scrooged. The arrival of our food barely
phases us, and we manage to inhale the food without really noticing. Carter decides he needs to
take a shower to wash Boston off him, but by that point, I'm so engrossed in A Christmas Story
that I barely notice his absence until my side grows cold. Of course, by that point, he was done
bathing and returning to my side. Once that movie is over, we decide to call it an early night and
go to bed. We don't go directly to sleep, though.
We still have those fuzzy handcuffs to try out.
That actually turns out to be kind of fun. It was more fun when I slapped them on Carter than
when I was actually wearing them myself, but I guess you have to deal with being on the
receiving end of something like that if you want to be on the giving end.
I think we both passed out immediately after our trip to the kinky side of things. I couldn't have
been out very long before I felt him shaking my shoulder. "Abby. Aaaabbeeeee."
I bury my face in my pillow and practically bark, "What?"
"Come on; get up! It's Christmas morning."
I lift my head a little and look at him with one eye for a moment, then return to the pillow. "The
sun's not even out yet."
"Sure it is. It's 8am. There are just clouds in front of it."
"Okay, the sun's not out in California yet. Leave me alone."
"But Santa came to visit us last night." Carter plants a kiss on my shoulder. "Well, he visited
you, actually."
I moan a little. "Do I have to get up?"
"Yes."
I sigh, then rollover. I wouldn't have been able to get back to sleep at this point, anyway. He
sounded way too excited for me to ignore him. "Okay, okay, I'm up."
Immediately, he grabs a cup of coffee of the night stand and hands it to me. Smart man. I have
him trained well.
I take a few moments to let the coffee kick in, then say, "So, Santa came here, did he?"
"It looks that way. There's more stuff under the tree than there was last night. You should come
out and see." With that, he hops out of bed and holds my (his) bathrobe open for me, practically
bouncing with excitement. I feel myself starting to catch some of his joy, so I grin at him and
pull myself out of bed and let him dress me in the robe. I give him a kiss before going to brush
my teeth.
"Merry Christmas, Abby," I hear him call from the living room. My mouth's full of toothpaste,
so I can't really answer at this point. "Love you."
I can't help the grin that spreads over my face. For the first time in a while, I feel happy. Not
anything else, just happy. And it feels great.
I can't wait to spend every Christmas with this man for the rest of my life.
Author's Notes: Okay, so basically, I hate Christmas. Personal reasons. It's sad and depressing
and just generally not good. So, I decided that I needed to write something extraordinarily sappy
and sweet to counteract this feeling. Poor Carter and Abby need a little joy in their lives right
now. And I'd much rather write something happy and fluffy than angsty (trust me, I enjoy
angst–I just don't like writing it). This has actually been floating around in my head for a few
days, so I finally decided to get on it. I don't know if this was worth the wait to those of you who
may have been eager for my next fic, but I hope you enjoyed it!