A Holiday

It was baby Toretto's first Christmas, and Mia seemed to think it was incredibly important even though the kid was too young to ever remember it later in life or to fully appreciate the massive fucking pile of gifts under the tree. Letty said that the best gift was the fact that she was finally sleeping through the night and Dom was apt to agree.

Still, they'd all been willingly dragged along when the younger Toretto sibling had wanted to drive up to the mountains to pick out a tree and cut it down. And it had been amusing to watch Dom and Brian haul the damn thing to the car, little Vince trailing after them cheerfully.

They'd dug the old decorations and ornaments out of the attic and Mia had sighed fondly over every other item she unwrapped, sharing memories from her childhood until Letty claimed that motherhood had turned her into a giant sap and made a gagging face at her. Maybe Christmas music hadn't been piping out of the stereo, but there had been laughter in the house, and love.

Vincent had counted every gift that appeared under the tree, finding particular glee every time he spotted his name on one of the tags. At four years old he was certainly the most excited member of the family on Christmas morning.

A fact that became even clearer when he woke up his parents by bodily jumping on them at 5 am, his excitement overwhelming the irritation of little feet to the ribs. Mia stumbled downstairs to start coffee while he ran across the hallway to wake up his Aunt and Uncle.

"Unca Dom Unca Dom wake up!" he shouted, reaching up to pat his Uncle's face with a little hand. Mommy had said it wasn't polite to get into other people's beds first thing in the morning, though truthfully that had more to do with her worrying that her son might be scarred for life after catching them in some state of undress.

He was excited and almost forgot, leaning against the bed and bouncing against the mattress as his Uncle groaned and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Unca Dom get up!"

"Yeah… I'm awake buddy. Why don't you head downstairs… we'll be right down."

Vince turned and ran from the room and Letty rolled over, blowing her dark hair out of her face. "I'm almost wishing for the days when they're teenagers and don't think 5 am exists unless they've been up all night."

Dom groaned again. "Don't say that. I am happy with 5 am wake ups because I don't have to worry about boyfriends and bad behavior."

She laughed, sliding out of bed with a yawn and heading for the bathroom.

"I'll get the baby and meet you downstairs," he said, sitting up. "I can already smell Mia's cooking."

"Mmm..." she agreed, splashing water into her face. "Christmas morning French toast."

A few minutes later when she walked into the kitchen the others were all gathered around the table. Mia was setting the syrup down next to a plate of bacon and offered her a smile. She wore green pajama pants with little elves all over them and Letty eyed them for a long moment before laughing.

"Sexy sleepwear there, Mi."

"Sorry that my style doesn't tend to garage casual and men's clothing like you," Mia snarked back with a smirk, sticking her tongue out at her sister in law.

"Girls," Dom interrupted, settling his daughter in her high chair. "I thought you were supposed to be adults now."

"Mami," the baby babbled kicking her little feet gleefully.

"That's right, mija," Letty said, ruffling her daughter's curls fondly. "You hungry?"

The toddler grinned up at her from her chair, chubby hands reaching for the cup Dom set on the tray. "Toas! Toas!"

"Aunt Mia's getting your toast," Dom assured her, moving to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"She's such a little talker," Mia said as she cut up a half a piece of French toast into little bites and put it onto a little plate with some peaches. "Vince didn't say as many words at this age."

"Every kid is different," Brian input.

"It's just funny because neither Letty nor Dom are that big of talkers. They'd rather sit there and just listen. And god forbid trying to get them to talk about anything when you bring up the dreaded F-word." She smirked at their looks. "Feelings."

She placed the plate before her niece with a smile. "Here you go, Sweetheart."

"Mi-a! Mi-a!" the child sing-songed, reaching for her food before shoving a piece of toast in her mouth. "Toas. Ma-mi…. "She wiggled in her chair, kicking out her little feet. Her dark eyes watched curiously as Vincent rolled a little blue hotwheels across the kitchen table, forking his own piece of toast into his mouth.

She scooped up a peach and pointed with a messy hand. "Caw. Cawwo…. Papi?"

Vince glanced at her with the slightly suffering gaze of a "big boy" and crunched a piece of bacon. "Can we open pwesents now?"

"You haven't even finished your breakfast," Brian said with a laugh. "We'll open them after everyone is done."

The little boy sighed then shoveled his food into his mouth as fast as possible, ignoring his mother's scolding. He dumped his plate into the sink with the declaration of "I'm done!" and ran into the living room to inspect and shake every gift there.

"You remember every being that excited to open gifts on Christmas morning?" Letty asked, staring after her nephew.

"Yeah," Mia said with a laugh. "I loved Christmas as a kid."

"Not me," Letty replied, chewing idly on a piece of bacon. "After my Dad died they all sucked. Till I started practically living here."

A silence fell around the table and Dom wrapped his arm around his wife, drawing her against him.

"Down! Papi down!" the toddler broke the silence and all heads turned towards her as she kicked in her high chair. They laughed.

"I guess we're done," Dom said, standing up to release his daughter from the chair. He wiped her face and hands with a towel and carried her into the living room where Vince was counting how many gifts were his.

After piling the rest of the dishes in the sink, for later – it was Christmas morning after all, the others joined them in gift giving.

There was more laughter, plenty of practical jokes between the adults, a lot more fond memories, and Mia with her camera practically glued to her hand. And though Mia had taunted that her niece's favorite gift of the night would probably be an empty box, the remote control car came up as the winner.

Just barely.