Voice of Christmas

NoV: This is part of my Christmas Hearts collection. This Christmas season, I'm going to be writing a Christmas fic for every show I've ever written about, and one that I haven't! Enjoy!

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She delicately hung every ornament on the towering evergreen. After placing the bright, glowing star at the very top, she stood back to admire her work. Every angle, every side brightened the room in red and green harmony. Her first Christmas tree in front of the frost-glazed window of her new home was the most beautiful sight (other than her father's convertible) she had ever seen.

Desirae was a quiet girl, but not by choice. She had been born mute, doomed never to lift her voice to the world or another person. But, rather than letting her disability be just that, she believed that music was her window to the world. She loved all kinds of music: new, old, disco, rap, jazz, pop, classical, techno. It didn't matter. She lived for the notes, the beats, and the flow of it.

Her only real obstruction had been her mother. Rachel was self-centered and very cold-hearted toward her daughter. So, wanting to get rid of the one thing keeping her "tied down" to her shoddy apartment, Rachel had dumped Desirae on her father, Ian Malcolm. The rest was history.

Desirae loved living with her dad. He had a roomy, contemporary apartment with all the basics that she needed. She did all the cooking, since Malcolm couldn't even make Pop-Tarts. She was even happy to do the laundry, so long as he kept her kitchen stocked with everything on her list.

She thought Malcolm was a good father and a good man. He wasn't home all the time, but he was home a lot more than Rachel had been. Now, having their first Christmas together seemed a perfect memory for her to treasure forever.

The sound of an egg timer going off rang through the hallway and into the living room where she was. Her first batch of cookies were done. All she had to do now was take those cookies out and stick the second batch in, and everything would be ready. She had a small chicken in the oven that had been slow-cooking all day. It should be done by seven o'clock when Ian came home.

Desirae smiled. He fiirst real Christmas with her dad would be epic.

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Seven-thirty. She had turned the oven off ten minutes ago, lest the chicken turn black. Her corn had boiled over at seven-fifteen, so she had had to take the boiler off of the stovetop. It too sat getting colder by the minute.

She probably should have expected it. Traffic was probably crazy, what with all of the people trying to get home to their families on Christmas Eve. His usual arrival time would be delayed. Especially with how icy the roads were becoming.

It would probably take him an extra hour just to take the interstate. Therefore, she shouldn't worry until at least eight-thirty.

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Nine o'clock. Desirae had long-since put away all the food she had struggled to prepare all day. The chicken, corn, and boiled potatoes sat in the refrigerator. Her tree and Santa-shaped cookies lay untouched in a large white china bowl, decorated with red and green streaks.

Her beloved Christmas tree still aglow, Desirae lay on the couch, covered with a pastel pink blanket, watching "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" on TV. She hardly paid it any attention. She couldn't help thinking about Malcolm. How he had blown off Christmas with her to be with his friends just like her mother had every year. No one could ever care for her. She knew that she had been born to learn to care for herself.

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He sneaked in the door five minutes 'til twelve, a festively-wrapped package under his arm. Malcolm laid his brown coat across a chair by the door. Not wishing to disturb Desirae, he slowly tiptoed through the apartment and into the living room. "It's a Wonderful Life" lit up the TV screen, and glowed across Desirae's sleeping face. She was draped up to the waist in a blanket. Her hair lay strewn across her shoulder and an embroidered pillow.

Malcolm felt a pang of guilt for staying out so late. But, maybe it would be worth it.

He knelt beside his daughter on the floor and gently shook her. "Desi?" he said softly. "Wake up."

She sleepily opened one eye, and then the other. She looked surprised for a moment, and then the events of the day quickly came back to her. Desirae forced herself to smile.

"I'm sorry I was so late," Malcolm tried to explain, "but I had to go to practically every store in town to get these," he showed her the box.

She looked at it skeptically, and gestured with her special sign for "What?"

Malcolm smiled. "You're going to have to wait until Christmas."

Desirae grabbed his wrist and turned it over to look at his watch. One minute 'til twelve.

She smiled. Malcolm out loud, and his daughter silently, they both counted down the seconds until they would have their first Christmas together.

All the clocks in the house stroke midnight at once. Desirae patted her cheek, which was the sign she used for laughter and happiness. She then opened her first Christmas present.

There were two cd's inside the box. One was a classical cd: Tchiakovski. The other was a popular rapper, one that Malcolm had never heard of.

Desirae, her eyes teary and elated, all but tackled her father in an attempt to give him a loving hug.

Malcolm laughed and slowly stood up, his excited daughter attached to his arm. "Merry Christmas, Desi," he said as she made her special sign for "I love you."