Green Eggs and Ham
Part IV
Author: Robbie (curlygurly87@hotmail.com)
Spoilers: Not really, General up through what we've seen of Season 9
Archive: Ask and you shall receive.
Disclaimer: While I'd love to be able to lay claim to every character in the story, not a one really belongs to me. They are the property of the big shots at NBC, Warner Brothers, Amblin Productions etc …
Authors Notes: See Parts I & II
Thanks for beta-ing, Sara.
Summary: Carter and Abby's first Christmas as a couple. Enjoy …
-------------------
I eagerly push past Carter and into the warm apartment. "Jesus, it's freezing outside."
"Do you want something hot?" Carter wonders aloud, shedding his layers of clothing and hanging them on the coat rack.
"I'm exhausted, I just want to get into some comfy sweats and curl up under the covers."
"What about dinner?"
"Forget it. I'm going to bed … you coming?"
"You're not hungry?" He presses. His eyes twinkle in the dim light.
Good god. Only a man; hungry 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It's like the one thing they can't live without … that and sex.
"What are you up to, John?"
"When I was little, my brother and my cousin and I used to have the same dinner every Christmas Eve."
"It's not Christmas Eve anymore," I point out.
He continues, obviously ignoring my comments. "It was a tradition. We'd help the cook make up a big batch of fresh chocolate chip cookies and then we'd eat them for dinner with milk. After we were finished, we'd set out whatever was left for Santa."
"Cookies for dinner, huh?"
He walks into the kitchen and opens the cabinet, turning to me with his hand outstretched.
"You coming?"
I sigh and walk towards him, grinning in spite of myself. "I'll get the milk."
----------------
"Mmmm … that hit the spot," he murmurs, rubbing his stomach and looking pointedly in my direction.
I lean across the table and brush some cookie crumb from his chin. I feign seriousness. "Promise me something."
He tilts hit chin and presses a kiss to my lips. I murmur in satisfaction. "Anything for you."
"Don't ever grow a beard. You're a messy enough eater as it is." I jab him playfully in the chest.
"Hey, no fair … I made you cookies." He crosses his arms over his chest, a mock pout on his face.
"Do you know you're like a petulant little child when you don't get what you want?"
His eyes twinkle.
"You have to admit it … that was good."
I grin back.
"I wouldn't want you to make it a habit with our children."
Damn it. I need to learn to hold my tongue. Trust me to go and take a perfectly happy moment and kill it with something serious that I'm too afraid to discuss with him. The grin falls off my face as he's silent.
He looks at me earnestly.
"You want to have my children?"
"Not now, John … let's not do this now."
"Answer me."
I stand up and carry my plate and cup to the sink, carefully setting them beside the stack of dirty dishes we have yet to wash. He comes up behind me reaching around my waist to set his own dishes in the sink. But instead of withdrawing his arms and walking away, he settles them around my middle, resting his chin on my shoulder.
"I've been pregnant before," I mumble.
I turn myself around in his arms so that I'm facing him. His tight, comforting grip never wavers, nor does the intense look he feeds me. My heart begins to pound.
"I had an abortion. I couldn't handle the thought …"
I crumble in his arms, holding him tightly. "It wouldn't be like that," he murmurs.
He rubs my back.
"I know. That's what scares me most."
-------------
It's almost five A.M., outside, the dark sky is sprinkled with bright stars that are just beginning to give way to daylight. Glinting Christmas lights sparkle against the snow white palette of Chicago. We're long finished with "dinner" as I stand in captivated silence beside the window and watch the picturesque world below me.
"Come to bed, Abby," a groggy voice demands. I thought he fell asleep twenty minutes ago.
"I thought you were asleep."
I turn to look at him; he's but a dark shadow in the night, a figment of my dreams - his body, but a silhouette against the white sheet. Shards of light that enter through the window as a car passes below on the street dance across his face.
"I was."
I nod. "But you're not now."
"No, I'm not"
"What are you doing?"
"I'm watching you."
"You're watching me?"
I almost grin, when did this become a game of call and answer?
"You're beautiful," He whispers, so low, I almost miss it. I blush.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm watching for Santa." My voice is dry and sarcastic.
"I think we missed him, it's getting light outside, close the curtain." He wrinkles his nose at me and yawns.
A rush of adrenaline spurts through my body and I turn and smile brightly at him. "We forgot presents!"
He groans, "Come back to bed."
"Come on, you Grinch …" Carter turns over and pretends to go back to sleep, pulling the pillow over his head. "John!"
-------------------
I settle myself across from him on the bed so that we are facing each other and cross my legs.
"Here."
I impulsively thrust a wrapped package in his direction. It's wrapped in red and green plaid paper, finished off with a gold bow. "I hope you like it; you're not exactly the easiest person to shop for."
He shakes the box for a couple of minutes, grinning at me. "Open it already, John."
He chuckles. "This is our first Christmas, you know."
I nod. "I know."
Suddenly, he seizes the box and tears it viciously open. "A box."
"Yes. You do have to open it, you know." He rolls his eyes and grins playfully.
He finishes with the package and holds it up for me to see, a grin spreading across his face. "A frying pan."
"I thought I'd let you try making me eggs, one more time."
"I love it, Abby. It's very thoughtful." I lean in to kiss him.
"I love you," I murmur, as our lips meet. My heart stops. Did I actually say that out loud … did he hear me?
He freezes, pulling away. "What did you just say?"
"It's true … I love you. Merry Christmas." I can't keep the smile off my face.
"I love you too," he kisses me again.
"I changed my mind," I mumble against his mouth, as the kiss becomes passionate.
"Hmm …"
"That's the best Christmas present I'm going to get … you can give me your other one later."
He chuckles, the sound emanating from deep in his throat, and with his spare arm, he knocks everything on the bed to the floor so we can finish what we've just started.
"Merry Christmas …"
"Merry Christmas."
----------------
Any feedback? Then by all means, review. ;)
Epilogue pending …