Everything Is Blue

by TrishaBeakens

Kimbra Wulfe was the head of the project department at EcoTech. She finally had gotten the chance to have her project approved. Sadly, her boss, Dr. Ainsley denied letting her choose her own sponsor. The scientist has to deal with a sponsor that Ainsley picks for her and get the project finished in the upcoming months, so she can leave St. Canard.

35. Chapter 35

The following morning, Adam sat up shortly after waking. He stretched out his arms with a loud yawn. Threw his legs over to the side of the bed.

"Time to get up, Bud, got a drive back to Brittlesburg to start."

Bud grumbled as Adam's voice seeped into his cozy blanket cocoon he'd wrapped himself in the night before. He was completely surrounded by warmth, and he wanted to go back to sleep as soon as he'd opened a droopy eye.

"Brittlebrhg…" he murmured as he began to drift off again, forgetting all about where they were.

There was only warmth. Pure, undiluted bliss. Him, the warm bed… and sleep.

Or so he thought.

Adam stood up from the bed, leaning over Bud's body. He poked the hound's face several times. "Are you ready to go? I'm sure Kimbra wants to see you."

He wasn't sure why, though.

Bud pulled the blankets over his face with a whine. "Stooooopphhh."

Adam smacked Bud on the back of the head with a pillow. "Get up, or I'm leaving you here."

Bud let out a low growl that seemed to rumble the bed, and he whined again. "Donh'hit me…" He began to drift off again, body physically not ready for him to be awake yet.

"Alright, guess you can stay here then." Adam moved back over to the bed, getting his stuff together.

"M– fine." Bud rolled over and groaned as his stomach cramped lightly. He stretched and sat up in his cocoon, chin scrunched into his neck and hair completely wild atop his half-lidded, red eyes.

"Oh good, you're up!" Adam smiled. "Sorry I woke you so early, I figured you wanted to get there by lunch."

Bud huffed as he rubbed at his eyes with a fist. "Guess so."

The Samoyed sat on the bed, patiently waiting for Bud.

Bud took another minute of staring at the wall in contemplative silence before he was ready to move. Once he was, the hound moved slowly. Yawned every few seconds as he dressed, and was clumsy with the laces on his boots.

Adam swung his feet as he watched the hound. "You can go back to sleep in the car or when I get you back to the cabin."

"Mh…" Bud rubbed his eyes again and let out a wide yawn that ended in a sharp yelp as he stretched. "I'll be fine. Just need to get up and moving and I'll wake up. Besides, who'd keep you company on the road if I did?"

"I mean, I'll probably just listen to the radio the entire time."

Anything was better than that prominent, low drawl the hound held in his rough voice, anyway.

"Country?" Bud's tail wagged as he looked up at Adam from grabbing his duffle bag.

Adam gagged as loud and long as he possibly could, taking great pleasure watching Bud's face go green.

"Oh, come on, Adam. It's good music."

"If you've been bitten by a possum and live in the backwoods, maybe."

"Okay, only one of those things is true."

Adam gave him a wide-eyed look. "Wait, what? What do you mean, only one of those things is true?"

"I mean what I said. Only one of those things is true." He smirked.

"I'm guessing it's the one about living in the backwoods, then."

"Bingo, Adam."

"Wait. You're not being serious, are you?"

The hound just pushed open the door and waited for Adam to do his room sweep, before following the Samoyed down the hall towards the elevators.

"No, no, no wait. Bud. I was joking. We're still joking, are we not?"

Bud looked over and stared at him before shrugging slowly. Yawned while pressing the down button. "You asked a question. I'm just answerin' it to you."

"Should I be in the same elevator as you right now?"

"Now, what's that supposed to mean?" Bud exclaimed with wide eyes.

"Means you're probably gonna start singing Cotton Eye Joe or something. If you bite me, I might get rabies, too."

"I don't have rabies, Adam." The hound rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the railing, looking up as the elevator slid to a smooth stop and chimed as the doors opened up.

"You probably do."

"I definitely don't."

"Doesn't having a country accent make you like… more susceptible to rabies or something? Kimbra told me that."

"Well, Kimbra is wrong." Bud looked around at the giant photographs of sweeping mountains and gorgeous snow clouds that lined the walls, and a pang of guilt shot through his chest at the fact that he might have been able to go see these things in person, if he'd only gone on that tour.

Oh, if Bud Flud had only gone on that tour.

Adam walked by the hound's side, looking towards the wooden check in desk before nodding to it. "It'll just take me a second to turn this card in, and then we can head out."

"Alright." Bud nodded and looked away from Adam, eyes catching sight of the little coffee maker he'd used yesterday. He grinned and walked off, deciding to take advantage of the free hot chocolate while he could. (And if Bud stuck a few packets in his coat pockets… well, who was there to accost him for it?)

Adam walked up to the front desk, chatting with the receptionist briefly before turning the card in. He walked off, looking behind him for Bud. He stopped, wondering where the man got off to. He couldn't have gotten far.

Bud came back with two cups, tail wagging as he grinned at the other man. "Here. Gotcha a little something for the road."

Adam took one of the cups. "Oh, thanks. I could have bought you a coffee, though."

The hound shook his head as he blew the steam curling out of the opening of the cup. "I know. It's not coffee, though."

Adam looked at the cup. "Ew… what is it, then?"

"Try it." He sipped at his with a content hum.

Adam winced as he started walking again. "It better be hot chocolate."

"Put some faith in me and just try it." Bud drawled as he got the door for Adam.

"I might have an allergy and I don't wanna drink this if I don't know what it is," Adam walked out the door and onto the sidewalk.

"Fine then. It's hot chocolate. The same as yesterday's."

"Oh thanks," Adam took a large sip as they headed to the car.

"Mhm." Bud's tail wagged slowly as they walked. He leaned his head back to take a deep breath of the crisp morning air with a grin.

"You really like the air here, huh?" Adam tilted his head as he watched the hound.

Bud took another deep breath and nodded.

"It's so much fresher than the air we have in St. Canard. We have so many factories and lights there it all just pollutes the air and at night you can barely see the stars in the city. The only other place I've been to with such fresh air is Louisiana. My uncle used to live down there in this little cabin in the woods and when we visited it was always really nice. New Orleans has to be second on my best air list. St. Canard being the last." He took another sip of his hot chocolate, steam condensing on his nose and making it twitch.

"Wow, okay. You didn't have to trauma dump about your life in the south. And you have a list?" Adam unlocked the car and got in quickly before locking the door before Bud could get in.

Bud stared at him with a disappointed frown as he jiggled the locked handle. Put a hand on his hip, and raised an unamused eyebrow.

"Alright, Bernard. Get in. Killjoy."

Bud once again pulled on the handle, and Adam snickered as he was glared at.

"Fine then. I'll just tell Kimbra all about little old me being so bullied, and we'll see what she has to say about it."

Adam unlocked the door. Watched as Bud slid into the car with a long-suffering sigh, and smirked.

"You're a bottom, aren't you?"

Unluckily for the Samoyed, Bud had been drinking his hot chocolate at the moment. Hot water spilled out of his nose as he choked and began to cough, and Adam let out a gag (causing Bud to gag), before just watching the hound.

"Do you have a napkin or something? So I don't get hot chocolate in your car? Gosh, that burns." He cupped a hand beneath his nose as Adam reached over him and got into the glove compartment, digging around for what seemed like (and actually was) an unnecessary amount of time. Shoved his elbow in the hound's face once or twice.

"Here you go, Bernard. A napkin for your disgusting nose." He tossed it at Bud, who rolled his eyes while wiping and blowing his nose. Shoved the tissue in his pocket, and reached into a deep pocket for a small bottle of sanitizer.

"Why do you just have that?" Adam stared at the hound with a look of wonder, as if he were some mole he'd just found.

"Because germs exist? And I don't want to have nasty hands all the way home." Bud rubbed in the sanitizer, and the sharp smell of peppermint wafted from his hands.

"That smells awful." Adam grimaced, wrinkling up his nose.

"You smell awful," Bud shot back, and the Samoyed rolled his eyes as he took the car out of park and looked through the rear-view to back out.

"Hardy har har har, Bernard. At least my name isn't one letter away from being the initials 'BBB.'"

Bud scoffed. "At least my middle name isn't Arthur."

Adam's hands froze on the steering wheel, and he slowly turned his head to look at the hound. "Who… told you that?"

The hound just shrugged as he inspected his nails. "I have my ways."

"No, no no . Who told you that?"

"I said I have my ways, Alcoholics Anonymous Wulfe."

"Alcoholics Anonymous Wulfe? Real clever, Bernard," was all the Samoyed scoffed.

"Thank you. I've been known for my brevity and wit before."

"Uhhuh. The only brevity you've got is the brevity of your mom."

"That doesn't even make sense." Bud looked out of the window as they changed lanes, the car crawling up a snowy ramp towards an interstate. Deep, fresh banks of snow lined the median to their left and the shoulder to the right, trees covered in clumps of the stuff. The sky was an early gray, a dull, yellow sun breaking through the misty clouds that covered her rays. The headlights of the car cut through fog settled on the highway, so visible that Bud thought if he rolled down his window and reached down he'd be able to feel it between his fingers.

In reality, he'd probably end up falling out of the car and would become a representative for the nearest hospital, instead of a water bottling company. Plus, it was far too cold to have the windows down anyway.

"It totally does. It makes more sense than anything you've ever said."

"You've only known me for a week!"

"That's plenty of time."

Bud squinted as he watched the Samoyed smirk. "Plenty of time for what?"

"Plenty of time to know that that's all there is to know about you."

"Beg your pardon?" Bud squinted harder.

"Then beg, I guess? Am I wrong? You sell water and stole my little sister away from our family, even with all… that going on." He waved a hand in Bud's general vicinity.

"All this? Ain't nothing wrong with all this." The hound began to drawl as annoyance seeped into his chest.

"Well, number one, you're southern. Number two, you're a capitalist-"

"I'm not a capitalist. I just like owning my own business and making money and a name for myself."

Adam twisted his upper body to stare Bud down for a good few seconds before turning to watch the road.

"Don't look at me like that."

"I'm actually not even looking at you."

"You just were."

"But now I'm not."

Bud paused. "Is this how every conversation goes with you?"

"I don't know. You tell me," Adam shrugged while swallowing back the smile threatening to cover his face.

"I think I'm just gonna take a nap, actually. How long is this drive again?"

"Four hours. You don't want to spend four hours talking to me?" He batted his eyelashes over at the hound.

"Ah, you know, I might nap. I could go for one of those."

"Fine then. Be that way. I can't believe we're having a lover's spat on Christmas, on all days."

That drew an actual snort out of the hound. Bud shook his head as he leaned the chair back, shuffling around to get comfortable before pulling his beanie down over his eyes.

"You sleep like a total dad," Adam remarked.

A few minutes later, Bud slid down in his seat and his head thunked against the middle console, and his right arm came to clasp around Adam's forearm as he curled up in his seat.

Adam let out a small sigh, not bothering to move Bud. He didn't think the man was very comfortable anyway and would eventually move. So he kept on driving, glancing over at Bud occasionally to make sure he wasn't dead.

Unbeknownst to Adam, this was probably one of the best naps Bud had ever had in a car in his life. His grip only tightened as he slept, and if they didn't stop the rest of the time, he was going to 100% sleep through the drive.

After a four-hour drive (what felt more like ten to Adam), the Samoyed pulled into the driveway of his father's cabin. He parked the car and tapped Bud on the nose.

"We're here, Flud, get out of my car." He said it jokingly.

Bud's nose twitched, and he roused slowly before grunting and burying his face back into Adam's arm.

"Okay, I'll let Kimbra know you want to stay with me another day then."

No response. He was sleepy.

"Okay, guess I'll take you back to my place then."

He still didn't respond as he slept.

Adam smacked him on the back of the head.

Bud growled lowly, the sound tapering off into a grumble as he drifted back to sleep.

"I'm texting Kimbra that you don't want to see her." Adam pulled his phone out of his pocket. Rolled his eyes as Bud growled again, and watched as the hound readjusted his head so that he could rest it on Adam's arm once more.

Bud growled for the third time as Adam moved, not wanting to wake up. He thought they were still driving. Why was Adam so noisy?

"Kimbra said she's coming out here to get you. Ohhhh, you're in troubleeeeee."

"Shuddup," Bud mumbled as he buried his snout into Adam's side.

That earned a slight smirk out of him. "We're literally at the cabin. She's coming down the steps right now."

Kimbra opened the door to Bud's side. She leaned in, placing a hand on Bud's shoulder. "Adam says you want to stay with him?"

"Hhm… nnno…" Bud furrowed his eyebrows as he continued to drift off and was suddenly shifted into a dream. It was his parents yelling at him to wake up, and Bud let out a little gasp as he jolted up and rubbed his eyes. "Oh, 'm wake. I'm awake."

"Come on, let's get you upstairs and I'll put you back to bed." Kimbra held on to his arm, trying to help him out of the car.

"Bed… okay. Bye Adam. Goodbye." He yawned as he slid out of the car and grabbed his hot chocolate from the cup holder to hold close to his chest.

"Bye Buddy, see you later."

Bud waved as he leaned against Kimbra before rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Kimbra helped Bud to the cabin with ease (as the hound was much taller than her, and Kimbra wasn't sure if she could catch him if he fell). "Did he wake you up too early?"

"What time is it now?"

"Almost eleven."

"Ughhh I guess." Bud squinted up at Kimbra to press a kiss to her cheek. "Beautiful," he smiled with a look full of nothing but love.

"You're only saying that, so I won't yell at you for ditching me for my brother."

"I'm not. You can yell at me if you'd like. I'm used to it. Just happy to see your face again," he yawned widely.

"Mhmm no, I'm not mad. Just disappointed."

That's always worse.

"I know. I hope you're feeling better, though."

"Not really, my head hurts pretty bad from last night."

"Let's nap together then. Do you want to take an aspirin or anything for it? I'll go and get you one."

"No, it's not that bad, but a nap does sound nice."

"So… did you eventually get to sleep in an actual bed?" The hound's voice twanged as it did when he was trying to hide frustration, and her grin dropped into a frown.

"I don't see why that matters now." Kimbra shrugged, and Bud slid a disappointed side eye at her as they started up the stairs.

"It matters because you'd be a lot less sore sleepin'… sleeping in an actual bed." He kept his voice soft, swallowing back the accent that threatened to slip.

Okay, okay, sleeping there may have been a poor choice on her part. Kimbra didn't know why he was acting fatherly all of a sudden.

"Who said I was sore?" She countered. "I'm not that old, Bud."

"But you are old enough to know that getting drunk in a hotel with a bunch of strangers is a terrible idea." The hound gave her a pointed look as he opened their bedroom door, and Kimbra huffed.

"Seriously? You really wanna have this discussion on Christmas, Buddy?" She tilted her head and gave her boyfriend puppy eyes. Hoping to get out of this.

"Yes, seriously. And I've had a lot worse conversations on Christmas," his voice softened.

Kimbra sighed as she plopped on the edge of the bed, glaring at Bud with her arms crossed as he shut the door behind them. As if she were a child preparing to be scolded by her parents.

Bud could feel her eyes boring into the back of his head as he hung his vest on a wooden hook hanging off the door. He was buying himself some time as he tried to think of the best way to go about this. Kimbra, on the other hand, was thinking of a way to get out of this conversation.

"Buddyyyyy~" She crooned. "That sweater looks so good on you. But I think it would look better on the floor~"

Bud blushed as he crossed his arms. "And then I'd be in a ratty, ugly tank top. It's pretty cold here, so I think I'll be leaving my sweater on, thank you very much."

Kimbra huffed. "Really, Bud? You really wanna do this today? On Christmas. What about our nap? What about wine and snacks in bed this afternoon?" Irritation dripped out of every word.

"I think you drank enough for the both of us yesterday, Kimbra." He sighed. The hound sat beside her, sighing again as he ran his hands through his curls.

"Your hair looks great natural." Kimbra tried in a meek voice.

Bud puffed out his cheeks and looked at her with a sad expression painted on his face. "Kimbra… we have to talk about this. You know we do."

Even if she doesn't want to.

"We don't, though. We really don't," she rushed. "It's not important, Bud. I just… did something stupid, and you had to deal with the consequences of my actions."

'No, Kimbra, your brother and your Pa did. Not me. I had to deal with the emotional strain, instead.' Is what he wanted to say. But as soon as the sentence flew in his mind, Bud winced. What kind of man would say that to his girlfriend?

He could think of one.

And Bud really wasn't looking to act like his father anytime soon.

He stood up to stretch for a moment. Thinking about what he should say.

Bud knew his words didn't have to be eloquent around her.

Heck, he could be as mad at her as he wanted to be. But that wasn't him.

The hound toed at a small tangle of white fur that stuck to the rug while thinking. "How about you start off? Let's both just… lay everything out, so we can see it better. Clear the air, okay?"

Kimbra took in a deep, nervous breath through her nose.

"I just…" She rubbed her arm, finding it hard to piece her words together. "I don't like talking about these sorts of things."

The bed depressed as Bud sat back down. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, thumbing over the soft fabric.

"I know." Was his quiet response. "But I find it nice, being able to talk to you about this kind of thing."

Kimbra gave the hound a confused look. "What? Me getting drunk?"

"No, no. I meant that it's nice to be able to talk to you about things other couples might just… yell about."

He was all too familiar with what that was like.

"Why don't you?"

Bud turned to look at her. "Why don't I… what?"

"Yell at me? Just get it over with. We don't have to actually talk about it."

His eyes softened, a frown covering his muzzle. "Kimbra… I'm not going to yell at you."

"Why?"

It was a simple word. Why.

But it hurt. It hurt to think about because asking 'why' implied that he was mad. That he should be mad. Should take it out on her, and that she deserved it.

Bud shook his head and sighed shakily.

"We don't have to yell during a disagreement," his words were quiet. "Listen, I… I know what that's like. Gets old, really, really quickly and it doesn't fix anything. Makes it worse, really." He looked down at the carpet beneath his feet. Traced a blue triangle inlaid with a faint but dainty golden design surrounding it.

"You should. You have every right to."

"I may have a right, but that doesn't mean I should exercise it," the hound tilted his head. Trying to catch her eyes with his own.

Kimbra looked away and down. Didn't say anything else.

The way her voice sounded on that call yesterday still haunted Bud. She sounded so hurt and unsure of herself. Unsure if Bud even liked her anymore.

The hound broke the heavy silence that surrounded them. His voice, like a heavy rock being thrown into still, quiet waters.

"Kimbra… I just… worry. A lot. I've heard what drinking can do to a family and-"

Her eyes focused back on the hound. "A family? Bud, you kind of sound like an A&A leader right now." She deadpanned, a sliver of a smile dancing in her otherwise clouded eyes.

"Goof," he rolled his eyes with a grin. "But I've heard of what it can do to a family, and… I don't want that happening to us."

Her eyes softened along with her tense demeanor. "Family? Wait… you really think of us like that?"

Bud scratched the back of his neck, fur ruffling as he looked away while puffing his cheeks out.

"Actually, yeah. But back to the topic at hand…"

"Me drinking," she sighed.

"You drinking," he nodded.

They lapsed into silence again. Neither speaking as they watched each other, each waiting for the other to talk first.

Kimbra finally let out a small sniffle as her eyes looked down at the floor. "Do you really love me?"

The question caught the businessman completely off guard.

She heard his ragged in drawn breath. "Kimbra, of course I love you. What kind of question is that?"

"It just… feels like you…" Her throat tightened, choking off the last of the sentence.

…that you probably shouldn't.

It wasn't his fault she was so insecure. So hypocritical. So messed up and most likely dying from a brain disease. It wasn't his fault she wasn't better.

"I do love you. I very much do." The hound interrupted as quickly as he could.

Bud pulled her into his arms and held her tight. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she eased into him. They sat momentarily in silence. Holding on to each other. Waiting for the other to finally say something. Anything.

"I worry about you," he whispered after a few seconds, his voice scratchy.

"Why? Because my entire life is a shithole? I'm completely messed up in the head? I'm a train wreck?" She paused for the right words. Didn't find them. A sigh left her mouth. "I probably shouldn't have brought you here. I didn't want you to see all of this. I'm sorry. It was dumb of me to think this would go well."

Hurt flashed in Bud's eyes, and he held his girlfriend even tighter. "Oh, love, no. No, no no. I worry because I love you. You're everything to me."

"You always have time to find another girl who means everything to you, Bud. You can leave me and no one would blame you."

"And you always have the time to find another boyfriend, Kimbra. No one would blame you. I'm a hot mess too, you know?"

Kimbra let out a long-drawn sigh. She wanted to close off on the hound, push him away because really to that she had nothing to say. 'But I don't want another boyfriend, Buddy, I want you,' she could say, and then he'd do that dorky thing where he grinned like he knew a secret she didn't and raise his eyebrows. A side poke, and a 'see?' would follow.

Bud pressed a soft kiss against Kimbra's cheek.

And he couldn't help but wonder what Colin was doing right now.

The laughter that filled the cabin should have filled him with joy, but the hound found anxiety and unease seeping into his body. He was uncomfortable in his own skin, knuckles white as he clutched his mug filled with steaming apple cider too tightly. Bud startled as someone touched his arm: it was Ace going off to find his son, who had probably run off with a gift or two to try and open them while no one was watching.

He could hear Loren scolding Adam for putting a ribbon on the urn, to which the Samoyed responded with, "Ma wants to be festive too! She can't wear her ugly old Christmas sweater, so this is the next best thing!"

Bud's blue, knit sweater felt too tight around the neckline and the way his sleeves twisted on his arms… it was all off. He adjusted them, swallowed, adjusted again.

That pulled a look from Adam. The Samoyed moseyed over and put a hand on Bud's shoulder. "Merry Christmas Buddy Boy. Seems you survived with us this far, you might make it in the family yet."

Bud grumbled. Unable to sort through his thoughts to give Adam a proper response, and feeling bad about it.

"What? Kimbra throat chop you earlier for ditching her?"

"No." He shook his head while taking another long drink of cider. "We actually had a good conversation and talked through what we needed to."

"Sooo what I'm hearing is that you two made out for an hour," Adam smirked, nudging Bud's shoulder. It elicited a flinch from the hound, and Adam snorted. "Dude. I'm not gonna hit you. Why are you acting like the whole family is out to get you or something?"

"I'm not, Adam." The words came out harsher than he intended for them to, and Bud winced as Adam balked at his tone.

"Wow. I see how it is, you old Scrooge."

"No, no Adam I'm not… I didn't mean for it to come out that way."

"Uh huh. Sure sounded like that's how you intended it."

"No, no, no no. It's just…" Bud waved a hand in the air before taking a long drink of his cider, words dying in his throat.

"Just?"

Bud swallowed, coughing around the hot liquid. "Just a bit…"

Adam waited for him to stop choking, not offering a pat on the back. Wanted to see if the old man would keel over, and they wouldn't have to deal with him anymore.

"You still alive or do I need Al to whack you on the back? Or would that throw it out?"

That total instigator.

Bud cleared his throat as he sorted through his thoughts. "I'm fine. I think it's just a bit… crowded for me right now."

Adam's expression went from a mischievous smirk to something softer, and a look of understanding crossed his face.

"Oh, is that all? Go get some air, man. No one will mind."

"Yeah?" Bud tugged on the collar of his sweater again.

"Yeah, of course. We get it. Not all elderly people like having so many people in a small place at once."

"I'm gonna tell your dad you're talking bad about him," Bud shot back with a teasing smile on his face, and Adam let out a barking laugh.

"Okay, I'll give you that one. That was funny. Now get out of here. Go take a breather. I'm sure someone will check on you in a bit."

Bud offered the Samoyed a smile as he started towards the front door. "Thanks, Adam."

He opened the door and took a deep breath of the crisp, clean air. Bud shut the door behind him and went to sit on the second step of the porch, snow melting on his jeans as he did so. The hound leaned against the back of the step, and looked up. The sky was overcast, snow lightly falling as Bud looked up at the clouds. He'd seen clouds before. Seen snow, and the sky, but here it was just… different. Everything was fresh, and clean. It felt like he had a new start here. He didn't have to worry about holding a status. Didn't have to worry about his hair, or his accent, or how he carried himself here. It was as if a weight had been lifted off his chest.

Bud didn't know how long he was out there by himself. Just sitting there. A million thoughts running through this mind. It would revolve around Colin. How he was doing. If their parents tormented him like they do every year and forced him to host his late show's holiday special. Or if uncle Rufus somehow snatched him for the day and gave him an actual Christmas.

Probably not. No way would Harrison and Julie allow that.

The hound startled as his coat was wrapped around his shoulders, and he looked up expecting to find Kimbra, but no.

"I saw you coming outside without a coat, and I'm pretty sure Kimbra would kill me if I let anything happen to you in my house." Loren grinned, groaning softly as he sat on the step next to Bud.

Bud pulled the coat tight around his shoulders, confusion flashing over his face as he watched Loren sit down.

"Do I…" Bud toyed with his hands. Why had Loren come to sit outside? Had he done something wrong? Was he in trouble?

He could see it now. Loren, patting his back and giving him a look of pity.

"You're not good enough for my daughter." He would say. "Maybe one day you'll find someone, but it's not Kimbra. You're not welcome here, Bud. You abandoned her on a tour. She got drunk and sad, all thanks to you. All alone in a hotel with a room full of strangers. How can I trust you when you let that happen?"

He swallowed against a tight throat. "Have I done something wrong?" It came out meek. Nervous. Like the hound was anxious to be around the older canine.

In response, Loren simply laughed. "No, no, of course not, son. I just saw how overwhelmed you were getting and wanted to come check on you. Frankly, you looked how I feel. I didn't know a big businessman like yourself could get nervous like that, though." He teased with a shoulder bump, to which Bud laughed nervously while looking away.

"Yeah…"

Loren winced. "I'm just teasing, son. I get anxious like that too, you know."

Bud looked back at him. Doubtful. "You? A world-famous author?"

"Me. A world-famous author." Loren nodded with a chuckle. "I know how tough it can be in crowded spaces, and if you need to be truly alone, I'll leave you be. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Bud's face froze. He stared at the Samoyed with blank eyes, the cogs clearly hard at work in his head.

"Check… huh? On me?"

"On you, yes." Loren nodded slowly. It was like the hound had never heard those words before.

He really hadn't. Other than his Uncle Rufus, the only time he'd heard those words were when he was in school, doing an assignment.

Bud didn't know what to make of it.

"Anyways," Loren looked back towards the cabin with a small smile, then turned to Bud. "I have to finish up a pie, will you be okay if I leave you out here alone? Won't run off or anything, will you now?" He added, elbowing him gently with a light chuckle.

"No, of course not. I'll be fine, thank you."

The Samoyed patted Bud's back before standing up. "Take your time, Bud. And stay warm."

Bud pulled on his coat, and zipped it up with a smile while watching Loren walk back inside. "I will, Loren. I will."

Cooking had just started and Loren was already being nagged. Grandma Carter had come into the kitchen, and instead of having a normal conversation with her son-in-law, she decided to judge him on his cutting skills. His posture. His hair. And his sweater. (The color suited him perfectly fine, she was just a little hater.)

"My baby Lucille should have married someone else," she would mumble every few seconds. He ignored her. And then she prodded at his back with her cane. "Straighten that back up. Even that boyfriend of yours has better posture than you, and he works hunched over in a lab all day, for goodness sake."

Christ, he hadn't even had his coffee yet.

The Samoyed squinted over at his mother-in-law. Opened his mouth to say something (mostly to protest that he does not have a boyfriend), but startled as a snowball hit the window. He sat down the knife in his hand, and leaned forward to peer out of the glass and into the dusky gray of the evening. There was no one there. Loren made a face as he went back to cutting up the remainder of a carrot, deciding to ignore… whatever that was. Probably a branch that had dropped snow onto the window, or something.

Moments later, Loren quit cutting, stopped to listen again. He swore he heard something (apart from his mother-in-law's constant degradation). Set down the knife and peeked out of the window.

He saw nothing. There was nothing, right? Maybe it was a tree branch hitting the window. Or a bird smacked into it (less of a possibility, but weirder things have happened).

He shrugged to himself and picked the knife back up, resuming his cutting and ignoring his mother-in-law.

A French Lop rabbit dropped his crutches in the snow and covered them with the cold powder before sneaking around to the front door. Crept up the porch and rang the doorbell, before diving off the side of the porch and into an embankment of snow (that was hard).

He let out a wheeze but kept hidden as he listened for the door.

The knock on the door made the Samoyed pause once again. Loren excused himself from Grandma Carter (who was currently criticizing his cutting skills and immediately took over once he had left the room) and headed towards the front door.

He opened it, and there was… nothing. Huh. Odd.

He stepped out onto the porch, wiping his hands off on an apron. Looked around. There wasn't anyone there. Probably one of the kids playing a prank on him as usual. No surprise there.

The rabbit swallowed down a snicker as he watched Loren walk back inside, and crept around to the back with a hand on the wall as he kept himself steady.

He jogged up the steps and knocked as loudly as he could before jumping the stairs and rolling beneath them with a giggle. From this perspective, he could see anyone who came out, but they wouldn't be able to see him. It was perfect.

Loren grumbled loudly, opening the door yet again. And guess what? There was nothing there.

He slammed the door closed, which earned a yelling from Grandma Carter. But he ignored her, not in the mood to bicker with someone who's old enough to have witnessed the Titanic sank.

Bud was looking at photos lining the walls as Loren came storming in. He took a step back with a flinch before smoothing himself out and cleared his throat. "Is everything alright?"

"Someone," he turned, gesturing at the front door. "Keeps knocking on the front door and running. I don't know who it is, but that and dealing with Carter is about to get on my everlasting nerve."

"Huh. Sorry about that… want me to take a look around outside? I'll get 'em with a snowball for it." Bud grinned.

"You know what? Yeah, I do, thank you." He patted the hound on the back as he made his way to the kitchen.

Bud's tail wagged as Loren patted him on the back. "Great. I'll let you know if anything turns up."

He walked outside and took a stuttering breath of the crisp air, shivering lightly as wind blew through his fur. Hugged himself as he peered around outside for the culprit, and squinted when he didn't see anyone.

Winnie pulled a face at the hound that stepped out onto the porch. That must be Bud, then. Definitely wasn't built for this weather. Definitely would die or something if he stayed out here like that for long.

Winnie crept out from the stairs and half-crawled to the side of the house, back to the kitchen window. Tapped on the very bottom three times, before hiding completely out of sight again.

Loren's mouth formed into an even bigger frown when he heard the window tap. He glanced out, and saw nothing once again. He chose to ignore it. Bud said he would handle whatever that was.

"Killjoy." Winnie muttered before running around to the other side of the house, where the hound still peered out at the snow. After checking that the snowball in his hands was indeed snow and not ice (he'd learned his lesson) he threw it directly at Bud's side.

Bud let out a yelp as snow burst on his pants and flew back into the house without even stopping to look at what it might be. Totally abandoning his promise to Loren about finding out what it was knocking on the house.

Way to prove your worth to the family, Flud. Can't even be brave enough to catch someone pulling a dumb prank on them.

"I'm regrouping and going back out." He muttered to himself with a low growl. Poked his head outside and grinned meanly.

"Hey Loren?" He called back loudly, a Southern twang infected his voice as he yelled.

"What?" He called out, hoping Bud had found out who the hell was being a bother.

"Y'all got a shotgun?" Head still turned to face the kitchen.

"Please. I've been meaning to go see Lu again," a voice huffed. "Finally."

Bud turned to see a rabbit standing two inches away from him, and screamed like a little girl as he slammed the door as hard as he could and stumbled back two or three steps. "NOW WHAT THE FUCK—" he yelled out before he could stop himself, and let out a gasp while clapping his hand over his mouth. Turned to look at the urn on the mantle. "I am so sorry."

The Samoyed stepped into the room when he heard Bud scream, wiping his hands off on the apron.

"What are you screaming about? It sounds like a little girl is in here."

"There was someone this close to the door! I kid you not! And the voice was all like, 'I've been meaning to go see Lu again.' Loren, y'all got intruders or something?"

Loren blinked a few times, until he realized who it was. Kept a straight face.

"Yeah, my wife had a stalker when she was alive. He comes around every year to bother us. I need you to go get the snow shovel and beat him over the head before he tries to kill me again."

"What? What do you mean, a stalker? You haven't bothered to get a restraining order against him?"

"Yeah, we tried, but nothing helps. So you gotta scare him off, Bud. Al did it last year. I think it's your turn."

"Where's the snow shovel? I'll do my best."

"It's by the door, thanks, Bud." Walked back into the kitchen with a smile.

Bud nodded and went to the front door, grabbed the shovel, and hoisted it onto his shoulder. Trudged through the snow feeling ten times more confident, and made it to the back, where a rabbit was practically dying of laughter on the steps of the back porch.

"HEY!" Bud yelled, and the Lop looked up. Wiped the tears from his eyes and stood.

"Hah! Got you good. Sorry for the scare though, I think I should introduce myself." He stuck out a hand, jumping when the spade of a snow shovel was shoved close to his face.

"Stalking ain't gonna get you nowhere in life. I suggest you run along before you get to have a trip to the hospital on Christmas." He drawled lowly.

The tawny, almost golden-eyed French lop snorted and pushed the shovel away from his face. "Come on. It wasn't that tasteless of a scare. And stalking? Who's being stalked?"

"You're stalking them! Now get off the property before I make you get off."

"Okay. Okay, Loren put you up to this, right? Told you I was some stalker?" He backed up a few steps towards the stairs, resting a hand on the railing as he swooned a bit. Normal for him, but the way it looked to Bud, he was reaching for a weapon.

So he swung.

The rabbit wheezed as the air was knocked out of him and crumpled to the ground, unmoving as he tried to process what just happened. Bud let out a low growl and pointed the shovel at the stunned man again.

"Stay there, or I'm gonna make it a whole lot worse on you."

Winnie couldn't do anything but wheeze.

Bud walked back inside and to the front door where he sat the shovel down, and moseyed his way into the kitchen. Popped his thumbs through his belt loop and gave them a pull. He felt pretty great about himself for doing a service to the family of Samoyeds.

"You can call the cops now. I got 'em with the shovel."

Loren looked at the hound for a few moments. Before dropping the knife in his hand. It hit the floor with a thud.

"Y-you, you actually hit him with the shovel? You hit Winnie with a shovel?"

"Yeah? You asked me to scare him off, and it looked like he was reaching for something… wait. Wait, who's Winnie?"

Loren dragged a hand down his face as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Winnie is an old friend of mine, Bud. I forget it's your first year here, and you aren't aware of the joking and such. God, I hope you didn't kill him. Rabbits are fragile. I'll probably have to bury him in the backyard now."

"What? You-" Bud's face dropped as he followed Loren. "Oh- oh, oh no. I-I had no idea, you seemed so serious… oh nooo I… I really did that."

Loren waved him off as he stepped out onto the porch. "Where is he? And letting you know firsthand that Kimbra had a massive crush on him when she was little, I don't think she'll appreciate you trying to off the first love of her life."

Bud winced as he pointed to where the rabbit still lay, curled up in the snow with ears lying cattywompus. "When she was little…"

Oh, he'd screwed up majorly.

Loren picked up a stick and began poking the rabbit with it. "I dunno, we can just bury him in the backyard and say we haven't seen him. Are you good at digging holes?"

"Wait no h-he's not actually dead, is he?" Bud's heart dropped as he peered down at the rabbit's face, which was shoved into the snow.

"Yeah he's dead. Don't worry, I won't rat you out or anything to the cops. Learned my lesson last time I did that."

"You…" he squinted. "You're joking, right? I don't think you'd be this unbothered if a long-time friend just…" looked back down at the unmoving rabbit. "Died."

He shrugged. "I'm pretty numb to this sort of thing by now. Not the first time one of Kimbra's boyfriends murdered someone I knew."

Bud gave him a horrified look. "I-I'll grab the shovel." It was all that he could whisper before slowly walking out of sight and back to the front of the house.

Loren stood there, and snorted as he looked back over at Winnie. "Sorry he knocked you with the shovel, didn't think the kid would take me seriously."

Winnie just gave him a crooked thumbs up with another wheeze. "Wanna get him back for it?" He mumbled from the snow hoarsely.

"How?"

"Seems pretty worked up about the whole me being dead thing. Let's milk it a bit."

Loren thought for a moment, and shrugged. "Sure, I guess. If it keeps you from talking for a while."

"Hurt, Loren." He shut up as he heard the soft footfalls of someone coming back.

Bud looked as if he'd been crying. He held up the shovel to show Loren. "I brought the shovel back." If it wasn't already obvious enough. "Shouldn't we like… at least call an ambulance ? Let someone know about this?"

"Nah, they don't care about this sort of thing around here. Thanks for the shovel." He squinted, and looked around the yard. "We can bury him by a tree or something. I don't think he'd really care where."

Bud let out a whimper as he looked towards the body. "I-I can dig the hole, but I can't… put him in. I think you're going to have to do that part." He gripped the shovel nervously. "I-I can't believe… I'm so sorry…"

"Oh yeah I can, no worries. I'll say a few words or whatever about him before we cover him up." He patted Bud on the back. "And it's fine, it's not like you actually meant to murder someone in cold blood, right?"

"R-right…" he walked over to a tree and started digging.

Winnie looked up at Loren after Bud had gone and smirked. "Is he really…?" He barely whispered.

Loren nodded, looking over his shoulder at the hound and back to Winnie. "I don't know why he's doing everything I tell him." He whispered back.

"Maybe he has father issues. I dunno. Where did Kimbra find him again?"

"Uhhh he was her sponsor for a project she was doing at work. The first few months, she'd call me, ranting about him because she loathed him. I don't know what the hell happened with that."

"Classic enemies to lovers trope." The rabbit winced before looking back over at Bud. "Got any ibuprofen inside? He hit me with the back of that stupid shovel of yours. Probably bruised my ribs or something."

"Nope, just ran out yesterday."

Winnie groaned. "Okay. I'll live. By the way, the Christmas presents and that pie I always make are in the car. We can get everything in a bit."

"Maybe you will. And really? Pie? You distrust my baking skills so much that you had to bring your own?"

"It's the one you asked me to make!" He whispered with a squint. "You're just bitter about that one Christmas, Lucille tried it first and not yours."

Loren kicked snow into Winnie's face without saying another word.

Winnie spluttered as he got snow up his nose. He grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it up the leg of Loren's pants before going back to his unmoving state as Bud trudged back over.

"I… I think it's finished, Loren."

Loren shook the snow out of his pants, not looking at Bud. "Yeah, uh… thanks Bud. I'll drag him over to it and drop him in. And you can shove the dirt back over him."

"Okay." The hound looked away from the body as a tear tracked its way down his cheek. Kimbra was never going to date him after this. He was going to be alone because he had killed her uncle. On Christmas.

And he'd never be accepted back here. Why didn't he know how to take a joke? Why couldn't he read other people's tones? The tears fell harder and he wiped his eyes. Trying to stop himself from absolutely bawling.

"Listen, I-I'll leave tonight. I'll get an Uber and go to the airport, you'll never see me again. Neither will Kimbra. She'll be better off without me. Better to lose me now than later, I suppose."

Loren looked up from where he was trying to drag Winnie across the yard and to the hole. He's so heavy, did he gain weight? "What? No, you don't have to leave. I like having you here. Kimbra seems to like you too."

"I-I killed your friend. I can't just… stay. It's more… messed up to add on to the pile. It just keeps growing… I-I can't stay here. It's not right."

A shrug. "Well, I was gonna do it eventually anyway."

"Huh?" Bud's voice pitched up in confusion as he took a step back.

"What?"

"Y-you were going to kill him yourself?"

"Yeah? If you'd like, you can go take the shovel and whack Grandma Carter with it. You'd be doing me a huge favor."

"What? N-no. I'm not going to kill your mother-in-law, Loren."

"Wait, dig another hole, and we'll bury her too then."

Bud gave Loren an uneasy look as he tapped the shovel on the ground; watching as the Samoyed continued to drag Winnie across the yard.

He shook his head slowly, then a bit faster, hair bobbing with a frigid wind that cut through his fur. "No, I'm… I'm not going to bury your mother-in-law, Loren. I'm gonna leave that one up to you… or maybe Adam. He seems like he would… help. With that. Kind of thing."

The hound took a step back, wobbling as he about fell into the hole he'd just dug and let out a yelp of surprise.

The sound of footsteps across the snow approached the trio. Adam made a face as he stepped over Winnie's frail little rabbit body.

"What are you three doing out here? Grandma Carter has been hollering for you for the last five minutes."

At that moment, Loren wished he was the one beaten with the shovel.

Bud turned from Loren and Winnie to stare at Adam, a dumbstruck look on his face as he slowly gestured towards Winnie. "Do you not see the dead body, Adam?"

Adam looked down at Winnie. Nudged him with his foot several times. Leaned down, face to face with the rabbit.

"He looks fine to me."

"He don't look fine," Bud drawled thickly. "I whacked him clear across the stomach with a shovel, and he done collapsed like a hunter in his own pit trap."

Adam didn't understand a word the salesman had just said.

"He's fine Bud, watch this." He leaned in closer. And kissed Winnie straight on the mouth.

Winnie didn't move.

Adam calmly stood up, walked over to a nearby tree. And he began to loudly gag.

Winnie, being The ever-so-worried uncle that he was, was drawn to the gagging. His ears stood up, eliciting a little scream out of Bud, who proceeded to: drop the shovel straight onto his foot, tripped over himself, and fell straight into the hole.

Winnie sat up, grabbed a handful of snow and scrubbed it all over his mouth and tongue.

"Adam…" He didn't really have to even add more than that. The one word was filled with enough disappointment and disdain to get his point across.

Loren ran over to the hole, leaning over to peer down into it. "Oh god, Bud, are you okay?"

Kimbra wouldn't be too happy with any of them if her new boyfriend had fallen down a hole and died. She'd be mad enough about the prank they pulled on him.

Adam was still loudly gagging. Practically on the verge of throwing up.

Bud let out a loud wheeze in response. He waved a hand up at the older man, trying to indicate that yes, he was fine.

"Adam, I think you're good on the gagging thing. You're the one who decided to kiss me in the first place. Quit being a baby about it," the French Lop rolled his eyes at his nephew's theatrics.

Adam turned his head and glared at the man. "Says the one who was faking being dead."

"Hey now," he frowned. "If your father and I want to haze Bud, we can haze Bud. Plus, he hit me with a shovel. I could've died for real, mhm. That would've meant no pie or presents. Or… knowing Loren, he would've gotten the pie out of the car and eaten it. Probably as they hauled me off."

"Bud is fragile, you could have killed him. What if he had a heart attack? And then Kimbra would blame me for it." He huffed and walked over to the hole. "We have to bury him now. He knows too much."

"Fragile as in Non-Native Fragile or fragile as in an Actual Heart Condition Fragile?" The rabbit asked, frowning as he peered over at Loren and Adam. "And fine, grab my crutches, and I'll help with getting the dirt over him."

"Y'all aren't gonna bury me." Bud protested with a frown. He stuck the shovel out of the hole and donked Adam in the shins with it as gently as he could. "Stay back, or this is goin' where the sun doesn't shine."

Adam kicked snow in Bud's face.

Bud hit him with the shovel harder as snow fell onto his face, and frowned as he heard Winnie snicker. "I see where you get It from, now," he snarked up at Adam.

Adam yelped and frowned at the hound. He began shoving dirt back into the hole without a word.

"NAW." Bud yelled, picking up handfuls of dirt and chucking it back at Adam as quickly as he could.

Winnie stood as quietly as he could and began to sneak away, apt on sending Loren's mother-in-law on all three of them. Partially because he was hungry. Partially because he wanted to see Loren get in trouble.

Adam shoved the dirt faster, grabbed a handful to fling at Bud's face. "STOP."

Bud's hands flew up to his face as Adam threw dirt at him, and he grabbed dirt and snow and packed it into a tight ball before sending it flying straight at the Samoyed's crotch. "YOU STOP FIRST!"

Adam leaned down, hands on his knees. Tears in his eyes. Didn't say a word as his manhood died. If he wasn't in so much pain, he'd make some dark joke that it died like his mom.

Bud huffed as Adam finally stopped. He crawled out of the hole, and had to sit on his butt for a second as he pathetically choked on dirt he'd accidentally gotten into his mouth while digging his way out.

Guess Adam would be reminiscing on two things that Christmas Day, then.

Loren sighed as he crossed his arms, disappointed. "Are you two finally done? We need to get back inside before—"

He glanced around once he had realized Winnie was gone.

"Great, he's probably gone off and either rearranged all my silverware by now or moved everything in my office over by five inches." The Samoyed grumbled aloud as he headed back to the cabin.

One more damn thing to deal with.

"Accusing me of such horrid crimes on Christmas, Loren? LuLu would be so disappointed to hear that's what you thought of me," Winnie sighed dramatically from the steps.

He'd intended on going up them, of course, and then he'd face planted into the bottom one after a dizzy spell. Busted up his nose a good bit and had it closed between his fingers.

"I wish Bud did kill me, so I wouldn't have to hear such accusations."

The author rolled his eyes. "I think she'd be more disappointed that you tried going up these by yourself. What did you do? Break your nose?"

"Nah, just bloody. I face-planted into the steps. My crutches are ssssoooomewhere…" he waved in the general vicinity of the front yard. "There."

"Adam will get them, I'll help you inside, and we'll get your nasty face cleaned up."

"Thank you, Loren. I'm glad the spirit of Christmas opened your heart this year to the goodness of helping others." He held out his hands, so the Samoyed could help him up.

Loren helped the poor rabbit up. "Uh huh, I guess that's just the type of guy I am."

Winnie squeezed his hands as he stood to steady himself, grinning at the Samoyed, and dipped his head in thanks for the help. "Guess so. Oh, by the way, I really do have pie and stuff in the car. I guess we can send your cretin and Bud out to get it if they've got nothing better to do."

"We both know they don't. Don't know why the hell Adam latched onto torturing the poor man. They've been at it ever since Bud arrived." He snorted as he helped Winnie inside.

"Guess he was tired of messing with his own brothers and the fresh face was a nice change of pace for him. Is this the first time Bud and Adam have met face-to-face?"

"Yeah, Kimbra just brought him with her and was like 'okay here's my boyfriend'."

"Nice." Came Winnie's one-worded response as they passed the living room. His eyes roamed the Christmas tree, settling on the clearly hand-made star at the top, a smile going sad as he stared at it. "You remember when Lucille made that with the kids? The kitchen was a complete mess after the Papier-mâché Disaster, but we certainly made a heck of a lot of memories that Christmas."

"Yes, I clearly remember having to clean it up myself."

"I… helped. Sort of."

And by helping he meant playing with a young Al and toddler Aspen, of course. At least it had kept them out of the kitchen while Loren cleaned, so it should have counted for something.

"Uh huh, sure you did." Loren let out a small huff. "You and the kids just made another mess."

"Actually." Winnie paused for dramatic effect. "No. You're wrong. We made snow globes, so sure the table got a little wet, but it wasn't like we went dumping whole bottles of glitter on the carpet or something."

"There is glitter in my carpet, and I know it's because of you!"

"I got that carpet professionally cleaned as an early Christmas gift, Loren. Any glitter that may be in it falls entirely on you because I, unlike some people, am very careful and so steady-handed. So there."

"No, no because I don't own any glitter. I don't use glitter."

"Not yet, you don't," Winnie corrected. Said nothing more as they reached the bathroom, and sat on the lid of the toilet while jotting a thumb towards the sink's cabinet. "Grab that first aid kit for me, will you please?"

Loren looked up at the cabinet, and back to Winnie. Looked at Winnie's legs. Then back to the cabinet. Then stopped at Winnie's face. "Do I really gotta do everything? I'm not your wife."

"Wow. I'm literally crippled and use crutches, and you're not helping me with this one thing." Winnie sniffed pathetically. Gave Loren a sorrowful look. "Out of the goodness of your heart, Loren. Please? Please spare a bandaid for my broken face?"

Loren rolled his eyes and opened up the cabinet. Grabbed the biggest, most impractical bandaid out of the kit and gave it to Winnie.

Winnie sighed, and once he was out of breath, sighed again. "I'm not taking our yearly Christmas photo with this over my face. You made me color coordinate for you already, can I have a smaller bandaid, please?"

Loren sighed back at him. And another sigh, just to mock him. "You're so picky. And no, I did not. I merely suggested colors you should wear. I don't want to be standing beside a clown in the photo." Gave him a much smaller bandaid.

"I'm not picky, it's the fact that if you gave me such a big bandaid I would've actually looked like a clown. And I… I guess you make a fair point. Or something." Winnie unwrapped the bandaid and slapped it on his face gently, nose twitching uncontrollably as he did so. "So, how's Jax been doing? Growing up pretty quick?"

The Samoyed crossed his arms and leaned against the sink. "You already look like a clown with those ears." He then shrugged. "He's been fine. But if he keeps growing at this rate, he'll be taller than you by next spring."

Winnie scoffed, ears standing straight up as he stuck out his tongue while looking at Loren. "You know what? I think you're insecure about your own clownish looks and that's why you keep bullying me, mhm. And on Christmas, too? For shame, Loren. For shame."

Loren winced a little at that, but let it pass. "Well, Lucille married me and not you, so." He muttered under his breath.

"Okay first of all, you're just jealous she liked my book better than yours," Winnie huffed. "Second of all. I could've married her. But out of the sheer love and goodness in my beautiful, overgrown heart… I didn't. I'm a great best friend."

He laughed. "No, no, no. She clearly chose me because I'm better looking and she found my personality charming. Besides, she only said she liked your book more to spare you of any hurt feelings."

"Oh, uh huh, sure. And I don't think you can really compare our looks seeing as you're a Samoyed, and I'm a French Lop, buuuut if you want to go that route, I have a Cooler Guy thing because I can do this." He proceeded to move his ears one at a time with a smug grin. "See? I'm a stud, Loren."

"That's more of a lame party trick, but whatever makes you feel better about yourself."

"Excuse me, your face looks like a lame party trick," Winnie sniffed.

"Just for that, I'm leaving you in here and putting your crutches on the top shelf in the hall closet."

"As if you can reach that high without your back being thrown out," Winnie retorted with a huff.

"I'm not that old!"

"Yeah, the popping of your hips when you were helping me up earlier says otherwise."

"My hips don't do that."

"Hips don't lie, Loren."

"I'm not Shakira."

"OOH BABY, WHEN YOU TALK LIKE THAT, YOU MAKE A WOMAN GO MAD." Winnie sang at the top of his lungs.

Loren left the rabbit in the bathroom.

"NO, WAIT, COME BACK-" Winnie huffed. He slapped his thighs, then stood up, and began to walk.

The French Lop made it into the kitchen and gave Grandma Carter a gentle rub on her back.

"Merry Christmas!" He singsonged to her, offering the Samoyed a wide, happy grin.

Grandma Carter looked over at him, wiping her hands off on the apron she wore. "Winnie, where's your crutches? And where's that dreadful son-in-law of mine? I sent Adam out to get you two. Dinner is almost ready."

"Oh. So, a funny story about the first two of those things, right? Loren is actually putting my crutches on the top shelf of the closet. But I came to help you in the kitchen, fair lady. I walked all the way in here, so I must not need them anymore, huh?" He did a little jig with a chuckle.

The aged Samoyed quietly scooted a chair in front of Winnie. Made him sit down on it. Took off her apron as she left the kitchen.

A few minutes later, the sound of her yelling at Loren carried through the cabin. Not long after, Loren stepped into the kitchen, handing over the crutches to Winnie.

He mouthed out the words, 'I hate you'.

Winnie blew Loren a kiss as he sat the crutches across his lap, then reached out with one to poke Loren in the side. "Fetch me a cup of coffee, peasant."

"I'm not your maid, Winifred." Waved him off as he moved around the rabbit to go set the table.

Winnie took a deep breath. "Hey, Grandma Carter?" He called out.

Loren mouth-yelled at him, waved an arm for Winnie to shut up. Trying to quickly fix him a cup of coffee.

Winnie smirked as he leaned back in the chair, watching the Samoyed make him a cup of coffee. "Don't forget the peppermint creamer that's in the fridge… just a dash, please."

Loren grumbled as he did so. Handed it to Winnie with the biggest frown.

"Would you like a kiss as a consolation gift for that extremely hard task?" Winnie teased him while taking the cup, before mouthing a genuine 'thank you' to the Samoyed.

Loren rolled his eyes. "People are going to start spreading rumors about us if you keep making remarks like that."

"What people, Loren?" Winnie looked up and around as if searching for a camera.

"Adam probably? He's always running in and out of the cabin. Michelle is still lurking around here too, I'm sure."

"Probably just around the corner, to make sure you aren't about to beat me up or something."

"I'm not going to, yet."

"YET?"

Adam walked into the kitchen, motioning with a thumb at the two older men. "See Bud? I told you they're secretly together. They even bicker like an old married couple. Make sure you announce yourself when you walk into a room. You might walk in on them doing something."

Winnie rolled his eyes exasperatedly towards Loren before standing and slid his arms back into his crutches. He walked over to the Samoyed and reached out an arm.

"Still being a menace to the older generation, I see?"

With a huge smile, Adam placed his hands together. Mocking those angel paintings you see in churches. "No, no, I'm not. I am a delight to the older generation. A blessing."

"A delight and a blessing. Did Grandma Carter spike the punch again?" Winnie pulled the younger man into a hug, messing up his hair with a grin.

"No, great Aunt Gertrude is the one who does that, and she's off in the tropics with another one of her man friends." He hugged the rabbit back, not bothering to fix his own hair. Not that he cared, anyway.

"The tropics, huh? That might've been a better Christmas vacation for our Buddy here, but I guess it's good we're getting the family hazing out of the way now, yeah?"

Adam snorted at Bud. "Yeah but he might get sunburned, he's very fragile, uncle Winnie. Don't know where Kim found this one."

"He could still get sunburned here too." Winnie looked at Bud, then back to Adam. Then back to Bud.

"So, Bud, what are your intentions with his daughter?" He nodded to Loren.

"I-w-well-" Bud took on the appearance of a deer caught in headlights. Winnie let out a laugh, and gently patted the hound on his shoulder.

"I'm kidding, son. I'm only Loren's brother. Kim's my niece, it's not my place to have that talk with you. Lorelai over there, on the other hand, will probably want to have that discussion sometime." He snorted, before moving over to the kitchen's door frame. "Okay, I'm going to go grab the gifts from the car. Anyone want to come help poor little old crippled me?" He batted his eyelashes at the room.

Adam spoke up. "I'll help you, my poor fragile dearly beloved uncle. I know I'm your absolute favorite anyway." The Samoyed made a few kissy noises at Bud before stepping out. Just to mess with him, per usual.

Loren watched the two step out, and then he crossed his arms. Raised an eyebrow at Bud. "What are your intentions with Kimbra, anyway? I'm actually asking this time."

Bud turned to the Samoyed with a blush covering his cheeks. "Well-sir, I… I love her. And I want to give her the best I can. Whether it be myself or giving her little acts of love through the small things…" he fidgeted with his hands. "And if she ends up not wanting me eventually, then I just hope that during our time together, she was treated the best she's ever been treated before."

He looked down at his mud-covered shoes while scratching his neck, before turning his head back up to Loren. "Something like that," he offered a nervous grin.

"Oh," Loren hadn't expected an actual, genuine answer this time. "Well, that's better than what Adam had said." Dropped his hands and shoved them into his pants pockets, wondering when the hell Adam and Winnie would return.

"What did Adam say?" Bud wondered curiously, his little heart bursting with curiosity for the knowledge of what the lovely Samoyed had said.

Loren raised his eyebrows. "He said you only wanted to get laid, and Kimbra was prone to pitying pathetic things."

"Prone to pity pathetic things, huh? Maybe that's why she's so close to him." Bud's eyes flew wide as the words left his mouth, and he clapped a hand over his muzzle as he stared at Loren, fear clear on his features.

Loren didn't say anything for a moment. And then he laughed. A clear, loud laugh.

"That was a good one, Bud. But fair warning, if you say that sort of thing to him, he might throw you in a snow pile."

Bud gave the older dog a grin, his tail wagging behind him at the compliment. His daddy issues were finally healing. "Thanks. And don't worry. My lips are sealed."

The younger Samoyed stepped into the cabin, carrying an assortment of gifts in his arms. He hoped no one knew he had fallen once already trying to get up the stairs.

"Move it Bernard."

Bud stared the Samoyed down for a good minute before taking a few gifts from him. "Let me help you, you poor fragile thing. Did you fall coming in?" He cooed, motioning to the wet patches covering Adam's knees.

Adam stared back at Bud. Kept a neutral expression. Said nothing.

And then he kicked Bud in the shin as hard as he could.

Bud let out a shrill yelp.

"You bit- OW!" He sat down the gifts to rub at his shin. "It ain't my fault you have such bad balance!"

"First off, I have excellent balance. Second, it's not my fault you have weak baby shins."

Bud looked back at Loren. Hoping to get some protection from the older Samoyed here.

"Just kick him back."

Adam frowned at the hound. "Don't you dare. I will kick your ass."

"Oh, sure, like you could." Bud egged him on.

Adam rolled up the sleeves of his coat. Took a step towards the salesman.

Bud let out a loud yelp and took a step back, bumping into Winnie, who in turn almost dropped one of the gifts he was carrying.

"Come on, Adam, you know the smackdown is scheduled for tomorrow night, not tonight, right?"

He waved his hand at Bud with a scoff. "Winnie, look at him. He's pathetic. He's too lanky and fragile. I'd probably break his arm if I bumped into him."

"If you break his arm, that would be a pretty sucky way to spend Christmas, kid. Your dad would make you drive him to the hospital, you know?"

"He most likely won't even be here again, I don't know why everyone is like 'Adam be nice to Bud'. He's just uhhhhhh… a fling or whatever. And no, I would not do that. He can ride the bus."

"I don't think Kimbra would bring a fling all the way to Alaska, if I'm being honest with you here."

"It might be a long fling. We don't know what goes on in her life, Winifred."

Winnie squinted at Adam. "You're taking after your dad a bit too much with that name, Adam. And true, true. I hadn't considered that, but thank you for helping me see the light…. Adamella."

"Don't insult me like that. I take strictly after my dear mother." Adam kicked Bud in the shin again, but not as hard this time. "Move outta the way, fling boy."

Bud didn't move.

Adam grabbed Bud by the ankles, dropping the hound to the ground, and dragged him out of the way with ease. And began to walk towards the living room without another word.

Bud narrowly avoided his head banging on the floor, and as Adam began walking into the living room, jutted out his leg for the Samoyed to trip over. "Bitch," he huffed under his breath.

Adam stopped (mostly due to almost tripping over Bud's leg and then hearing the cute name he was just called), turned around. And looked at Bud. Still said nothing as he glared at the hound.

"What? What do you need, Adam?"

"You called me a bitch. I want an apology."

"I don't think so."

With a deep sigh, Adam got down on the floor and roughly shoved Bud into a lying down position. And then sat on him. "I'll get off when you apologize to me."

Bud shrugged. "Fine. Stay like that."

Winnie cast Loren a look before sighing tiredly. "Wanna help me get the rest of these to the living room?" He asked while motioning to the gifts in his arms.

Adam leaned down and began trying to kiss Bud on the face.

The author rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yes please, I would rather occupy myself with something than watch those two all day."

"NAWWW YOU NASTY. HELP, HELP." Bud yelled in the most backwoods accent he could manage while pushing Adam's face away.

Winnie glanced once again at his friend. "Ohmygosh they're not even related by marriage yet and they're this. It's only going to get worse from here, Loren. So much worse."

"There's no way he's coming back next year," Loren sighed again. Took the rest of the gifts into the living room, as Winnie had so kindly asked.

"Thanks for the help." Winnie grinned as he sat everything down, before taking a small ornament from the tree and smiled sadly as he thumbed over the face of a Samoyed standing beside Loren. "She always loved Christmas so much. Had that great hot chocolate recipe we'd have every year while we watched a movie…"

"She stole the recipe from Pinterest, I told you this a million times." He glanced at the urn on the mantle, slightly afraid it would launch at him for telling such a lie about his dearly departed wife.

It did nothing. Just sat there, as it had been for the last several years.

"Mhm. You know she's going to come back to haunt you for telling that lie," Winnie chuckled nonchalantly. "Maybe."

"She wouldn't do that to me, I'm a sweetheart."

"Says you," the rabbit teased with a wiggle of his ears.

"Stop flirting with me. I'm married and I'm mostly straight."

"You were the one who invited me over for Christmas."

"That doesn't give you the right to make moves on me in front of my wife. Three's a crowd, Winnie."

"Me, making moves on you?" Winnie scoffed loudly. "In your dreams, Loren."

"I–" Loren paused to give the rabbit a pointed look. "What? Why did you say it like that? Are you calling me ugly?"

"What? N-no. No. You're very attractive. I was just-" Winnie's nose twitched as he stared off into space for a moment, his left foot beginning to thump rapidly on the floor. "You're very nice looking. I'll leave it at that."

"I didn't know you found me… attractive." Loren went silent for a moment, moved a little away from Winnie. Said nothing.

"I don't." Winnie huffed, his ears standing straight up on his head as he took a step back as well.

Loren merely mocked him.

"Stop that." Winnie reached a crutch out to tap him in the stomach.

"Just for that, you can't sit by me at the dinner table."

"Soooo you're an ableist now. I see how it is," he sighed pathetically.

"No?"

"Yeah? You said I can't sit by you at the dinner table for lightly tapping you with my crutch. Which helps me to walk, mind you. Therefore, ableism. You hate crutches."

"No, no." He pointed a finger at Winnie. "I only hate you."

Winnie took a deep breath. "GRAAAAAAANDMAAAA…"

Loren ran over and slapped a hand onto Winnie's mouth. Trying to silence the rabbit.

Winnie licked his hand.

Loren let out the loudest gag, wiping his hands on his pants. "Winnie, that is disgusting."

"Mhm your ableism is more disgusting."

"I'm not ableist, it was only a joke that I wasn't going to sit by you at the table for poking my organs out with that crutch of yours."

Not that Winnie was listening anyway. Loren knew that the rabbit didn't actually mean anything by the accusation. He still couldn't help but argue. It's how it always went between the two.

Winnie sniffed before heading into the living room, and propped himself up on the mantle next to Lucille's urn. He did a double take at the bow on it, and sighed.

"Adaaaam, you know she always looks better in blue, and you put her in beige?" He made a yuck sound before pulling out a fancy, blue ribbon from his pocket and replacing it with the nasty ratty one Adam had stuck on. "There. You'll be absolutely shining for our Christmas photos this year, Lulu."

"First of all, I like beige. It compliments the urn. Second, she did not consent to you touching her, so I'm going to have to throw you out in the snow now."

"Mmm actually she likes my ribbon better than yours and if you throw me out in the snow…" he paused for dramatic effect, "I'll tell Grandma on you."

"I'll tell her you were beating me with your crutch for no reason."

"She would never believe you."

"True."

Winnie looked very pleased with himself.

Adam didn't appreciate that in the slightest. So he ruffled his own hair, making it messy. Pulled half his coat off, threw himself onto the floor in front of Winnie. "OW UNCLE WINNIE! YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO BEAT ME WITH YOUR CRUTCHES! IT'S BECAUSE I HAVE ADHD, ISN'T IT?"

Bud had come into the living room to put something away, and upon seeing the two simply slowly backed out without a word. Probably the best decision on his part.

Winnie stared down at Adam. "I have ADHD too, Arthur. I don't think your Mama appreciates your lies, especially on Christmas like this."

"Ma appreciates me fully because I'm her favorite baby boy." He scrunched his nose up at the fact Grandma Carter was ignoring him. Sat up and fixed his coat and hair.

"Mhm. Favorite baby boy." Winnie half-rolled his eyes before chuckling as he looked over at the Christmas tree with a sad smile. "One year, when you were a baby, you tried to eat the tree and managed to snap off a piece while none of us were looking. Your Ma caught you in the act, and you hollered so bad when she took away your little branch that we had to give it back. You named it Branchy and slept with it for a week until we were ice skating, and you left it stuck up in the ground."

"It's because she didn't feed me enough. I almost starved to death." Adam stood up, brushing off himself. "Also, stop talking about Ma like that, I don't want to hear about your old man crush on her."

"Oh, old man crush, huh?" Winnie pulled him into a light chokehold while ruffling his hair into a mess. "And starved to death? You were always the first to get any type of treat in the house. Ask her," he nodded to the urn while pulling Adam into a side hug.

Adam muttered as he tried to fix his hair. "Yes, because I was Ma's favorite. Kimbra is Pa's. The other three are just sore losers they feel sorry for. So there."

Winnie messed his hair up again before stepping away to go rearrange all the ornaments by an inch (to aggravate Loren further). "So, kid, how's the lodge business treating you? Been having any more trouble with those dimwits trying to bug you about selling it?"

The Samoyed clenched his jaw so tight that it hurt. He didn't want to have to drop the news that business was going downhill. That the oil company, Russell Oil Co, was trying to buy him out. They were posting fake bad reviews on the lodge's website to drive business away.

No one wanted to go there anymore. Not that Adam could blame them anyway.

"It's fine." Blunt. Not true at all. But uncle Winnie had better things to worry about than some stupid ski resort.

Winnie noticed the clenching of his jaw. How the Samoyed's eyes went dark as he guarded himself.

"Alright," his face was soft, and voice softer. "But if you ever need anything, you know I'm here for you. I love you, kid."

He gave him an encouraging grin before turning back to rearranging the ornaments, knowing Adam wouldn't want to talk about this any longer.

"I need you to finally confess your feelings for Pa. We're tired of you two going around in circles."

Winnie scoffed. "Adam, your father and I do not have feelings for each other." He reached a crutch up to slowly tilt the star atop the tree, before he stood back to admire his work with a nod.

"You two are basically obsessed with each other. I'm scared to walk into a room sometimes because who knows if you two are going at it behind our backs. You are a rabbit, after all."

The rabbit's eyes went wide, and he furrowed his eyebrows while letting out a tut of disappointment. "Adam Arthur Wulfe! Shame on you. Your father and I would never."

"Well… you two did have to share that hotel room once on the family reunion trip. It only had one bed. I read fanfiction, uncle Winnie. I know what happens in those scenarios."

What Adam didn't know was Loren and Winnie had kicked each other the entire night to stay on their own sides of the bed. They'd bicker back and forth over it, making empty threats and vowing to beat the other with a pillow if they even set a toe on the opposite side.

The night had ended with Loren spooning Winnie in their sleep.

That morning, the two had agreed to never speak of it again.

Winnie grimaced and took two steps back. "You sound like you write fanfiction of us and hide it under your pillow or something, Adam. I think we need to block the archive of our owl from your phone for a bit."

Before Adam could protest, the sound of Grandma Carter yelling for everyone to come to the table, echoed through the cabin. Neither had noticed another car pulling into the driveway. Al and Aspen had ridden together, considering they live in the same apartment complex (and Aspen probably wanted to fix his hair on the way there).

Which Adam made note to pester him over.

Sitting down at a dining table with a large family was something else Bud hadn't been used to. Hell, half the time his parents didn't even sit at the table with him. One of the few times the entire family sat together was after grandpa Stanley passed. Harrison had been quiet the entire night, not looking anyone in the eyes. Like he wasn't sure how to feel.

And then there was the other time. The time that Bruce Culver and the rest of Amalthea passed away. They were one of the bands signed onto Harrison's record label (Arctic Records). The best one they ever had. Bud's cousin Renee (Morty's older sister) was married to Bruce, and it's why she isn't on speaking terms with Harrison.

He felt resentment tighten his throat.

Bud swallowed. Hard. He didn't want to think about all of that right now. He didn't want to be reminded about the bus tour crash. Or how his father walked in that night, and the way he looked at Bud and softly asked him to go to bed. Without another word.

He didn't want to remember how wrecked his family is.

Bud felt a harsh kick to his shin. He jumped, looking up to see Adam, of all people, glaring at him.

"What?"

"You stole my seat, Flud."

"Did I?"

"Yes! I always sit by Kimbra, every year. That's my seat. Not yours. Mine."

Bud shrugged. Gave the Samoyed a pitiful look. "Oh sorry, too bad."

Loren let out a sigh from the end of the table. "Adam, there's nothing wrong with where you're sitting. Don't start."

"Yes there is, I have to sit by Jax. That's cruel and usual punishment."

"Hey!" Jax turned to glare at his uncle.

Adam made a face at the kid. Scrunched up his nose. "It is, you smell terrible. Like a wet sock."

That just upset the small pup further. "No I don't!"

"You do."

"No! I think it's you."

"It's you. You're gonna have to sit outside all by yourself. You're upsetting everybody." Adam gestured at the entire table. No one was even listening to him.

"Daddy." Jax looked at Ace, tugging on his father's shirt sleeve. "Uncle Adam is being mean to me again."

Ace sighed as if this were a recurring thing (which it was). "Adam, stop harassing my kid. You're going to make him self-conscious."

Jax piped up, jerking his head to glare at Adam some more. "Yeah, I'm going to end up needing therapy."

Ace dropped his head in his hands. "Jax, why are you saying that?"

"It's what grandpa says when great Grandma Carter comes into the house."

Kimbra let out the loudest snort, quickly covering her mouth to quiet herself. Pressed her face against Bud's shoulder to stifle her laughter.

Grandma Carter, from the other end of the table, sharply looked up. Glared daggers into Loren's damned soul.

Loren only took a sip of water and avoided eye contact with the woman.

"Jax…" Ace looked exhausted the second he raised his head. "Sometimes, I think it's best we keep certain things to ourselves. Okay?"

The small Samoyed only yelled out an 'okay' , and reached forward to grab his glass of milk.

Bud couldn't help being amused. "Is your family always like this?" He asked Kimbra. Gave her a small smile.

A snort. "Yeah, pretty much." Gestured in Adam's general direction. "He, on the other hand, gets worse every year."

I mean, it's not surprising, honestly.

Adam scoffed, as if what Kimbra had said had been perfectly outlandish. "Says you. You get meaner every year you come back."

The scientist wrinkled her nose in distaste. Began to shoot something back at her older brother, but she was stopped by their father.

"Don't." Loren hushed the two before they could bicker. "We are not doing this today."

Adam gave his father the sweetest smile. "Do what, dear father of mine?"

"You know what I mean."

"I don't, actually. I've been nothing but an angel my entire life."

As if.

Al laughed loudly at that. Adam shot the older Samoyed a hateful glare. Loren had to scold them and make the two swear they wouldn't fight at the dinner table. Something about not wanting a repeat of last year.

Bud didn't have much trust in Adam's promise. The man thrived on aggravating others and causing problems.

With a clear of his throat, Aspen looked over to the water bottle salesman. "Bud, do you like to ice skate?" It came off polite, like an attempt to get to know Bud. Or that he noticed the hound was being too quiet.

Probably the latter.

He's trying to make small talk with you. Be normal and actually try to hold a conversation for once.

The question still caught Bud completely off guard. "I… I don't know how to skate."

And whose fault was that? No one had ever taken the time to teach him. Now that he was grown, he just never found the time to learn. He never saw the point in it.

A scoff. And then Aspen turned his nose up at his sister. "Kimbra, teach the man how to skate before he busts his ass on the ice."

Kimbra was right, he is a bit of a mean girl. A figure skater, right? The one that brags about all the medals he wins? Bud made note of that, just in case he needed to win the canine over.

Kimbra shook her head no. "Maybe next year. I think you all traumatized him enough already."

Bud couldn't help but jerk his head to look at Kimbra.

Next year? She wants you to come back next year? Does she think you'll still be together by then? You'll get to spend Christmas with a family again?

The thought made his heart pound.

She wants you to come back .

The voice in his head almost managed to sound convincing.

Kimbra gave Bud a pointed look when she noticed him staring. His gaze flicked bashfully away, but only for a second.

He should go. He should go. He didn't belong here. They seemed so… perfect. Like one of those families you see in magazines.

He should leave before he ruins things. As he always does.

And yet, he did not move from her side.

"Aspen, no one wants to know how to skate." Adam meant it as a gentle tease, but it came out bitter. He visually winced when Aspen narrowed his eyes at him.

"Well, no one wants to go down those dangerous slopes of yours. I saw a guy break his arm the other day."

"It's better than dancing around the ice and throwing glitter everywhere."

"I only use glitter when it's necessary." A huff from the figure skater. "Least I don't track snow in the house every time I come over."

Adam leaned forward, chin on his folded hands. A large smile formed on his face. "Least I'm not Canadian."

Aspen stood up, hands flat on the table. "I'm not Canadian!"

"You were born in Canada, that makes you Canadian."

"It does not!"

"It does. It's the law." Adam gestured towards the ceiling with a finger. As if the law were floating over their heads.

"You're a moron, it doesn't work that way."

"Well, actually…" Loren rubbed the back of his neck. "You're technically a Canadian citizen since you were born there. So… you kind of–"

Aspen let out a loud huff, and sat down. Crossed his arms. Said nothing else.

The poor Canadian.

Loren attempted to sway the topic to something (or someone else) to ease the tension in the room. "Jax, any plans on what you want to be when you grow up?"

"Yeah! I'm gonna be a hockey player!"

"Really? Just the other day, you said you wanted to be an astronaut."

"I changed my mind."

Kimbra chimed in. "Hey, last year, you told me you wanted to be a scientist."

The puppy thought hard for a minute. As if the world depended on his answer. "I'll be… a scientist hockey player who goes to space, sometimes."

Loren nearly choked on a swallow of coffee at the answer. Coughed a few times to cover up his laugh.

But Bud couldn't help but smile a little at Jax's enthusiasm. "Kid dreams big, doesn't he?" He laughed as he looked over at Ace from across the table.

Ace snorted. "Tell me about it. Just last night, he said he wanted to be the thing that you use to plow snow."

"It looks fun!" The puppy blew a raspberry, using his arms to slowly push his plate to the side. Trying to demonstrate that he would indeed be an excellent snow plow.

Ace made a small stress noise as he tried keeping Jax's plate and silverware from crashing into the floor.

The family fell into their own separate conversations. Jax rambled to Loren about school and what he and his father had been up to. Aspen typed away on his phone as he argued that he was not a Canadian, searching for evidence to back up his claim (Winnie insisted that he was, in fact, a Canadian citizen). Kimbra and Adam argued over… something. Bud had lost track of their words, especially after Adam accused Kimbra of leaving a carton of eggs under his car seat (deliberately) last year. Grandma Carter hounded Al about when he was getting married, and he did his best to dodge the uncomfortable topic.

At that moment, Bud Flud realized he did not belong here. He didn't fit into their fairy tale family image. They were so… perfect. Close. He never had that. He didn't know how to. They wouldn't want him back next year (if he didn't somehow ruin things with Kimbra).

He cleared his throat, trying to rid himself of the knot that formed.

This had been a mistake. Such a mistake.

The rest of the dinner went by in a fog for Bud.

Bud Bernard Flud remembered it like it happened yesterday. His younger sister, pulling him and Colin along towards the huge, faux white Christmas tree that stood proudly in the living room. The ornaments were uniform-red and white and a huge, glittery star that sat at the top, along with the stockings that would be more for looks than to fill with gifts. The gifts wrapped beneath the tree were also more for looks, the actual presents for the children shoved in the back, so they couldn't get to them. (And because the majority were from their Uncle Rufus, who'd used a conglomeration of cartoonish wrapping paper that Julie scoffed at, simply because it didn't match her white Christmas aesthetic.)

"Okay. Tonight is the night we're finally going to catch Santa Claus!" AJ had stated while plunking mixing bowls, adorned with titles proclaiming the three 'Santa Snatchers' taped onto the fronts.

"We're gonna use that net that's in front of the fireplace-" she pointed to a net she'd hung over the nails holding the stockings up, draped down and pooled on the floor, "and once we hear him coming I'll use the rope I hid beneath the tree to catch him!"

"What are-what are we gonna do with Sanna once we get him?!" Colin hopped up and down.

"Umm… we're gonna… gonna…"

"Ask for a THOUSAND dinosaur toys?!"

"A thousand and a HUNDRED dinosaur toys!" AJ laughed, before scooping Colin up. Buddy laughed at the two and rocked on his heels, tail wagging back and forth at the thought of so many little plastic dinosaur toys spread through the house.

"What about a MILLION dinosaur toys?!" Buddy giggled, reaching forward to tickle Colin, who let out a happy shriek.

"I think we should get whateeeever we want!" AJ smiled as she led her brother into the living room. "It's Christmas, after all! And we're kids! Isn't Christmas the happiest time of the year?"

"Nooo that's not how the song goes! It's the most wonderful time of the year!" Buddy sing-songed, and his siblings joined in. They laughed, falling over themselves and onto the plush, white rug. Buddy let out a 'whoops' as his hand connected with an ornament, and the red ball fell before shattering at the base of the tree.

"Bud? AJ? Colin?" He heard a deep voice call out, and the three little hounds went quiet.

"Bud?"

"Bud?" The gentle hand on his shoulder snapped him back to the present, and Bud turned with a grunt.

"Bud, I asked if you wanted another cinnamon roll. Papa's about to put them up. I'll get you another one if you want to sit down." Kimbra nodded to the couch.

"Oh. Ah, no," the hound shook his head, "I'm fine."

"Okay. I'm going to get another one before Adam stuffs his face with three on a dare like he did that one year." She rolled her eyes before pecking his cheek. "I'll be back."

"Sure. I'll save you a spot." He winked, and Kimbra snorted as she moved away and back to the kitchen.

Bud moved over to the couch slowly, easing down, and stared at the tree. It was green, the smell of pine wafting gently in the air, mingling with vanilla and a warm, cinnamon smell from the fresh, homemade rolls. Fire danced off the ornaments (he'd never seen so many beautiful ornaments before) and logs crackled in the fireplace. Bud's eyes roamed over the decorations in the room and on the tree, homemade, messy, store bought, shoved on wherever they would fit and not the least bit uniform. The hound could feel something bubbling up in his chest and made his throat tighten.

This was the type of Christmas he'd always yearned for. A warm, loud Christmas. One that he could have cocoa on the couch with. One that he was allowed to laugh at, and not have to wear itchy matching sweaters and khakis to stand in front of a fake tree with fake smiles to send off to Harrison and Julie's company and so-called 'friends.'

He pushed off of the couch and moved over to get a better look at the ornaments. Bud lifted one up with a gentle finger and chuckled at an old family photo, the entire Wulfe family standing in front of the cabin and a toddler Adam throwing snow into the air.

"Winnie took that one." A voice from behind him. "My Lucy was five months pregnant with Kimbra at the time."

Bud looked back with a smile. Loren was nursing a cup of steaming tea, and took a sip before speaking again. "She complained the entire day about her back hurting, threatened to castrate me if I ever mentioned having any more kids."

"She looks really happy."

"My Lucy was always happy. Never stopped smiling until she couldn't." The Samoyed's mouth tightened into a bittersweet smile. "She was my Sunshine. Lit up my day like no one else could."

Bud's eyes softened as he watched Loren take the ornament off its branch, rubbing his thumb over his Lucille's smiling face.

"I bet you made her happy. Really happy," the hound said, voice soft as he turned his head to look at the other ornaments.

"I did my best to," the Samoyed let go of the ornament.

The way that Loren talked about Lucille was foreign to Bud. How he talked about how much he loved–no, how much he still loves her.

The only marriage Bud Flud had ever been exposed to was his parents. Harrison and Julie didn't even like one another. Their parents arranged the marriage. They often argued, threatening to ruin the other's life when a minor inconvenience happened. Julie often spoke terribly of Harrison, especially to her own children.

Seeing someone speak so kind and soft about their wife was new to Bud. He pushed back against the cracking dam threatening to burst in his chest. Didn't want to become a complete mess in front of Kimbra's father. Wouldn't be a very good impression on him, now, would it?

Loren must have noticed the silence because he glanced at Bud. "You okay?"

The question registered, but Bud's brain was running slower than an HP laptop with more than 3 tabs open. It took him more than a few seconds to process.

"Y-yeah of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Bud finally replied after a bout of silence. As if it were the only sensible answer.

"You just grew quiet all of a sudden. Just wondering."

Bud didn't expect that to be a problem. Usually, his parents yelled at him for making any sort of noise. People often loathed him for speaking. This was all new to him.

"I…" Bud paused. Looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself.

What could he say? Blurt out all his daddy issues and confess that Loren, a man he barely knew, felt more like a father to Bud than his own father?

"I'm fine." Was all that he could say. All that he should say.

Thankfully, Kimbra dragging Adam by the arm into the room saved Bud from further embarrassment. He would have kissed her right then if he could. Decided against it as her father was standing nearby.

But the Samoyed, preoccupied with her older brother, stopped in front of the tree. "Adam, why did you pick the ugliest wrapping paper for my gift?" Kimbra pointed out a box, wrapped in a hideous green paper. Covered in bright blue dots.

The rest of the gifts had been wrapped in beautiful shades of red and green. Or actual pleasant to look at paper.

Adam pulled his arm away from her grasp with a snark. "Because I wanted it to match you."

Without a beat, Kimbra punched her brother on the arm as hard as she could. Bud didn't even know she could hit that hard.

The Samoyed let out a yelp before grabbing his throbbing arm. Jerked his head towards Loren. "Dad, your spawn over here is beating me for no reason. Make her apologize."

Loren sounded exhausted at this point. "Kimbra, apologize to your brother." Set his cup of tea on the mantle. Glanced at the urn as if his deceased wife would come back and handle things for him.

As it has for the last twenty-something years, it just sat there.

"No! He called me ugly."

"You are ugly. Hideous even." Adam said, unable to resist.

A pathetic whine left Kimbra's mouth. "Dad." Her expression was one of a hurt child. Bud couldn't tell if she was that good of an actor, or if Adam had actually hurt her feelings.

Loren's eyes bore into his son. "Adam, stop calling your sister ugly. It's rude and unnecessary."

Adam cocked his head, and pretended to consider the idea. "No, I like to be honest. Honesty is the best policy."

"I thought that the best policy was that the customer is always right?" In between the arguing, sweet little Jax snuck into the room. Sat under the Christmas tree, looking through the presents. "That's what the sign at the grocery store says." He patted a big box with his name on it, trying to figure out what was inside.

Kimbra crossed her arms with a snort. "Customers are usually morons."

"Like you?" Adam couldn't help himself at this point.

Kimbra hit him again.

"DAD!"

"Kimbra, stop hitting your brother."

Adam stuck his tongue out at her. Kimbra returned the gesture.

"Are we opening presents yet?" Jax asked, the sentence infused with impatience.

Loren tried (and failed) to fight off a smile. "If you help me sort through them first, sure. Gotta wait for everyone to get in here."

"I can do that!" Jax scrambled to stand, immediately sorting through all the boxes with his name on them, first. The adults watched as the child carefully made stacks of boxes. Separating them by name. Didn't even give his grandfather a chance to help (not that Loren minded).

A tug on Adam's pants, and he looked down to see Jax holding up a box to him. Before he could even say thank you, the pup scattered off to finish his job.

Adam read the label, noticing that his nephew handed it to the wrong person. "Oh, this one is to good ol' Buddy! From dear sweet Adam."

Bud cocked an eyebrow. "I'm afraid to ask what's in there."

A snake? Box full of spiders? Anything could be in there.

"You can shake it, but you aren't getting a new one if you break it." Adam grinned as he handed the gift to Bud. Took it hesitantly, and paused with an unsure look at the Samoyed.

Adam splayed out his hands. "What?"

"Well, I don't want to break it. I'll wait to open it."

Adam rolled his eyes and took the box, shaking it as hard as he possibly could. Laughed as Bud's eyes flew open wide, and shoved the box back into the hound's hands.

"It's not breakable, silly. Why do you look so scared?"

"Because I didn't want to open a broken gift?"

Or anger the swarm of bees that might be in there.

"Relax, Bernard. It's a scarf. Handmade, and- ow . Hey! What was that for?" He whined as a tall Samoyed, Al, popped him in the back of his head.

"Don't spoil it for him. You're not supposed to know what it is until you open it."

"Oh, yeah, says Mister Mommy Mommy guess what we got you a new sugar canister that's what's in the bag you're holding?"

"I was twelve!" Al shot back, and the two moved away from the Christmas tree while continuing to bicker.

Bud shook his head with an amused smile as he sat the gift back down. A new scarf? It was a blessing for the hound, who literally shook when the temperature was less than fifty degrees. He would end up wearing it the whole remainder of the trip.

The hound paused as something caught his eye.

Wait.

That was his name on that box. And that box with the red paper, that bag with the snowman tissue paper, that long… box? Thing? And the other box. And a bag, and another small, wrapped gift. That was five gifts. For him. Plus the one he had just sat down… six gifts?

"Counting up the spoils?" Loren joked as he adjusted an ornament on the tree. Bud looked over at him, and the Samoyed could have sworn there were tears in his glassy eyes.

"Oh, no, no, I was just…" Bud took in a shaky breath as he looked back at the presents. "I wasn't expecting… anything, really. It's my first Christmas here, so…"

"It may be your first Christmas here, but you're still family. You deserve presents just like the rest of us, Bud." Loren said gently as he tilted his head to the side. Besides, what kind of people would we be if we left you out of the festivities and fun?"

Yep. That would do it. Bud looked down at the ground, a muscle in his jaw clenching as he could feel heat pool behind his eyes. Something that always happened before he cried.

"Not… very good ones?" He answered too softly.

"Sorry, come again?"

"Not very good ones?" Bud asked again. Louder.

"I'd say not. Can't imagine who would be such a Scrooge on Christmas anyway."

Bud laughed uneasily. "You'd be surprised. I'm ah, going to the restroom. I'll be back."

"Don't take too long— now. Jax might get to those before we can all sit down and celebrate Christmas for all of us if you don't hurry." A smile was in his voice and face as Loren joked, and Bud just nodded before turning and walked to the bathroom.

Bud locked the door behind him. His face was in his hand, which covered his eyes filled with tears. Willing himself not to cry as he went to stand in front of the sink. Trying to collect himself. It wasn't working that well.

Was it too early to be so… so attached to this family? To look up to Loren as if the author were the father he never had?

You have Rufus, his mind scorned him.

He had forgotten why he tried not to get close. Maybe that was foolish of him. To get attached so early.

Christmas dinners at coworkers' houses. Being called a baby and fussed over by someone's mom who, while she didn't know him, was so full of life and love that it filled him with life and love that he didn't know he could feel. It made him yearn for something he thought he could never have.

But now… it was his.

Well, until he pissed off one of the brothers and his body was 'mysteriously lost' inside some lake somewhere in Alaska.

Bud cringed inwardly at the thought. Adam would probably be the one to do such a heinous crime. It seemed in character for the Samoyed.

But what if all this was gone by morning? What if it was all a dream? And he'd wake up in his room, alone once again. Like the previous years. He couldn't go back to that again. He couldn't be alone again.

He hadn't noticed the sudden tightness in his chest until it let go. The hound closed his eyes, hoping to mask the pain with a deep inhale. Then he ran a hand over his face and was unsurprised to find it warm.

How pathetic. A grown man, locking himself in the bathroom of his girlfriend's childhood home. All because he became overwhelmed with feelings.

Maybe Harrison was right after all about you. You're weak and pathetic.

After a few more minutes of calming himself down, Bud quietly sat down on the couch beside Kimbra. No one else noticed him step into the living room. Something he preferred.

"You okay?" Kimbra leaned over and whispered. Not drawing attention to him. Which he was grateful for.

The hound only nodded. There was so much more he could say at the moment, but if he spoke a word, he knew his heart was going to crumble into a million pieces. He didn't want to cry in front of her. Bud glanced around the room, but still, no one reacted to his sudden presence. No one made any snide remarks about his appearance or his posture. It wasn't like any Christmas he ever had.

Kimbra leaned over again, and Bud caught a whiff of her vanilla perfume. "Are you sure you're okay? If you need to step outside, you can."

"I'm fine." He whispered back. "Really, I am."

She didn't believe him, but didn't press the topic further. "You can open my gift first," she stood from the couch, walked across the room, and picked up a box from under the tree.

It was wrapped in white paper that had shiny golden stripes running across it. The wrapping job looked horrid. But Bud wasn't going to say anything about it.

Adam protested, pointing at the gift he had brought for Bud. "No, no, I want him to open mine."

"Adam, you already told Bud what you got him. There's no point in him opening yours first."

"He hasn't seen it!"

"No one wants to see your ugly ass scarf."

"It's not ugly. It is made of the finest material in all of Alaska."

"Bud, just open mine first." Kimbra set the thin square gift in Bud's lap, before Adam grabbed her by the waist and dragged her to the floor with him.

While the two continued to bicker (and Kimbra insisting on smacking Adam's face to force him to release her), Bud carefully tore the paper off the gift she had handed him.

Tearing off the paper revealed a record vinyl. An Elvis Presley one, to be specific. One he didn't have in his collection. Bud didn't think she was listening when he showed her his collection that one night. His eyes grew watery at the thought behind the gift. It meant she had listened to him. She cared about his interests.

He didn't know what to make of it.

Of course Adam, the menace, had to ruin the moment. "Is it a toupee? I bet it is because your hairline seems to be thinning."

Bud snorted, not bothering to dignify that with an answer.

And his hairline was perfectly fine.

"Oh, it's arecord? Lame."

"It's an Elvis record, Adam." Bud sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Did he have to explain everything to him? "It's not just a record. It's one I didn't have."

"Still lame."

Kimbra just almost hit him again, but caught a glimpse of Loren staring her down. So she didn't. Least not while the author was around.

Bud gently took her hands, pulling her attention away from that and onto him. "Thank you," he said, in a voice so soft that Kimbra had to lean down to catch the words.

"You're welcome," she smiled before pressing a small kiss against the hound's mouth. Something that clearly embarrassed him, considering they were in front of her family.

No one paid them any mind, except for Adam, who let out a small gag.

Bud actually found himself growing fond of the ski resort owner. He enjoyed himself on their little outing the other day. Of course, Bud would never tell Adam that. He had trouble even admitting it to himself.

He handed over his own gift to Kimbra before turning his attention to Adam. "Do you want yours?"

That caught Adam's attention. His arms remained crossed as he glanced at the hound. "Oh god, you actually got me something?"

"Of course, I brought everyone a gift. I wouldn't be a very good guest if I didn't, now would I?" The salesman grabbed a small box from beside the couch. He had wrapped it neatly in silver wrapping paper, covered in glittering snowflakes. Handed it over to Adam.

The Samoyed made a face of worry, but ripped off the paper anyway. Opened up the small box and pulled out a tin bar.

Stared at it for a moment. His eyes then met Bud's.

"What is it?"

"Sex wax." Bud replied. He found the name odd, considering it was for snowboards. But nevertheless, Kimbra insisted that Adam would like it.

"Sex wax? EWWW YOU PERV!" Adam yelled, dropping the bar onto the couch as if it were burning him. Al leaned over and smacked him upside the head again, and Adam flipped him off.

"Boys! What happened to the spirit of Christmas?" Loren chastised, and Adam stuck his tongue out at Al while rubbing his head.

"Yeah Al, what happened to the spirit of Christmas?"

"You're about to be a spirit of Christmas if you don't thank Bud for what he got you. Isn't that the brand you've been wanting for a while anyway?" He pointed out, and Adam rolled his eyes as he picked up the bar to examine it again.

"I am ever so grateful for this bar of sex wax. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart, Bernard." Adam batted his eyelashes as he popped the lid open and smelled it. His eyes went wide and he smelled it again. "Oh. This actually smells really good."

There was a soft thumpthumpthump as Bud's tail wagged on the couch behind him, and the hound smiled widely. Happy that he'd approved of the gift.

"Thanks. Kimbra helped me pick out the scent since I didn't know what you liked," he answered truthfully.

"Yeah, I'm surprised she would know anything about my likes and dislikes." Adam frowned at Jax, who was reaching for the bar to try to lick it. Pushed him away playfully, which sent the puppy into a giggling fit.

"What's that supposed to mean, Adam?" Kimbra shot back, eyes narrowing as she squinted at her brother.

"It means that you… have a tendency."

Loren looked at the ceiling. Once again, silently letting Lucille know he would be satisfied with an early death. As always, she never obliged, as seeing her poor husband suffer must have been entertaining enough.

"A tendency for what, huh, Adam?"

"Forgetting about your favorite brother constantly. You never text, never call…" he sniffed, looking away with a pout. Loren rolled his eyes as hard as he possibly could.

"I talk to you every day!" She pointed a finger at the older Samoyed. "Now shut up, you're ruining Christmas."

"You're the Christmas ruiner," he shot back. Picked up a pillow and chucked it at her. Kimbra caught it and raised it over her head, ready to beat him with it.

"Hey now, you two. You're scaring Bud." Winnie nodded to Bud with a frown. The hound was just sitting there, watching the interaction, half in a world of his own. He blinked over at the French Lop and gave him a confused, 'hmm?'

"He's always scared." Adam scoffed. Kimbra threw the pillow at his head before sitting back down.

"You've known me for, like, a week. Or something. I'm not always scared." Bud rolled his eyes half-heartedly as he ran his hands over the scarf as if he were petting a cat.

Adam threw the pillow back at his sister with a huff. "But I'm right, you're always scared. Like a baby deer."

"I am not a baby deer."

"Yeah you are."

"No I'm not."

Loren and Winnie exchanged a tired glance.

"You are." Adam threw another pillow at Bud, who batted it away. Jax lunged for it and caught it, dropping the new toy he was playing with in favor of gnawing at the pillow instead.

Loren looked pained.

Bud continued his argument. "If anything, I'm a baby possum or something."

That earned him a confused look from both Kimbra and Adam. "What?"

"What?" He shrugged.

"Looks like someone's had a bit too much spiced cider," Adam mumbled.

Winnie's ears (hitting Loren in the process, seriously, those ears were literally like four feet tall-) stood on end. He and Loren stared over at Grandma Carter, who looked away.

"Mrs. Carter…" Winnie chastised, and the old Samoyed splayed her hands at Loren's boyfriend.

"You and Loren have never once had my cider. My Lucy should have married into a family that liked cider. Someone like that hunk McClennan. He likes cider."

"Michelle!" Loren's eyes flew wide, and he gave her a look.

"What? It's true. I still don't know what she ever saw in you. You're puny. You can't even lift a chair without struggling."

"Michelle, please." Loren covered his face with a hand, wishing he was the one who had Huntington's instead of his late wife. He did his best to keep the elderly woman in line during family gatherings.

He was starting to see what a pointless exercise that was.

"It's alright, Michelle. That's what I'm here for. To lift chairs for Loren." Winnie cast his friend a mischievous smile while patting his back with a pitying expression.

"It's one of the few things you're good for. I'm sure your boyfriend appreciates the help," the older Carter nodded to him, and Adam proceeded to snort cider out of his nose.

"Michelle!" Both Loren and Winnie's voices mingled together as they stared her down, and the doddering old woman stared back while pointedly turning down her hearing aids.

"Love is love, is all I'm saying," she muttered. Took a drink from her mug before turning to Bud. "These two have been dating for years, and you'd never tell by the looks of them. I keep telling them to tie the knot, but Loren just can't seem to let go of his last name. I told them they could hyphenate it, but does Loren ever listen to me? Nooo. None of my advice is good advice." She sniffed.

Bud looked between the Samoyed and Lop with confusion on his face. "Oh. Congratulations?"

Kimbra began to correct him. "Buddy, she's ly-"

"Say, Jax," Grandma Carter interrupted. "Want to tell us about the Christmas song you've been working on?"

Jax dropped the pillow he was gnawing on and nodded furiously. The pup pulled a crumpled paper from his back pocket and rocked back and forth. "It's called 'One Hundred Presents' and I wrote it, so I could sing it to all of you! Can I sing it now?"

Loren forced a smile onto his face and opened his mouth, unable to deny the small pup of that simple Christmas joy. So he took a deep breath and nodded. "Of course, Jax. Go ahead."

"Ooooooooone hundred presents on the wall, one hundred presents! Take it down, pass it around, ninety-nine presents on the wall! Ninety-nine presents on the wall, ninety-nine presents. Take one down and pass it around…"

Loren turned his head slowly to squint hard at Adam. If looks could kill, his youngest son would have been spending Christmas with his Ma. "You," he mouthed clearly, and Adam gave him an innocent look. Shrugged.

"What?" He mouthed back.

The older Samoyed shook his head slowly and sat back, hoping he would dissociate through this song.

(Spoiler: he did not.)

Kimbra fixed Bud's beanie over his hair as he tied his new scarf over his neck.

"Okay. Long-johns, turtleneck and pants, two pairs of socks, beanie, scarf, gloves, coat, ear muffs just in case and hot hands. Do you think that'll be enough to keep you warm? It's supposed to get into the negatives tonight," she tilted her head, and Bud brought up a hand to cup her cheek. Smoothed down her creamy fur while nodding, a soft smile on his face.

"Yep. And remember, we've got blankets and I have a lovely girlfriend who's practically a personal heater," he winked, and she shook her head while grinning up at him.

"Okay. Because I don't want to run your company or anything if you freeze and die here, or something."

"You wouldn't want to run The Sparkling Crystal Pure Flud Water Company (trademarked, of course)?"

"Did I just hear you say the word trademarked out loud?"

"Well, yeah. How else would people know that it's my property?" He leaned forward to boop his nose with hers, and Kimbra let out a snort.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because it has your name in the title."

"You can never be too sure." Bud buried his nose into her neck, and Kimbra let out a giggle while scrunching up her neck.

"Yeah but we can be sure that you're a dork."

"I'm not a dork," He tickled her sides lightly, and Kimbra squirmed away from him while giggling, and he began to laugh as she did so.

"You're such a dork. It's one of the things I love about you, though. Embrace it, Buddy."

"I'd rather much embrace you, my Darlin' Sunshine Princess." There was that drawl again. He grabbed her waist and pulled her close, hugging the Samoyed from behind, and rested his head onto her shoulder. "Wise men say only fools rush in…"

She rolled her eyes lightly, a smile on her face all the same.

"But I can't help…"

Kimbra rested her head back on his with a sigh.

"Selling used cars for you! For a limited time only, come on down to Weller's Used Car Lot! Prices that beat out competitors harder than my father-"

"BUD!" Kimbra shoved his face as hers lit up, bright red. "You dork." She began to laugh, hard, as he let out a few snuffles against her hand and shoved his face against her palm, rubbing his cheek over it.

"But you said 'oh Buddy, you're such a dork I love that about you', am I wrong?"

"Well, yes… but my voice does not sound like that."

"It does."

"No, it doesn't."

"It most certainly does."

Kimbra couldn't help being amused. "Come on," she grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the bedroom and into the hall. "We need to get out there, or we'll miss the lights."

"Okay, okay. I'm right behind you. Don't yank my arm off." He managed to grab the blankets before she dragged him out.

"Darlin' I ain't gonna yank that pretty little arm of yours off." She mocked his accent with a tease as she led him out of the cabin.

"Now I don't sound like that!" A small huff left the hound's mouth as they stepped down the stairs.

On a nearby hill, Bud could see the rest of the family sitting on top of it. Adam and Jax were throwing handfuls of snow at one another, laughing. Loren flinched occasionally, afraid of being hit in the face with the white powder. Grandma Carter could be heard loudly complaining that it was too hot out (Bud disagreed) while Ace fanned her with a newspaper. Aspen and Al were chatting away beside her. They were the picture-perfect image of a family that Bud had always yearned for his whole life.

The one he and Colin should have had.

Kimbra headed up the hill first, the water salesman following closely behind her. As far as Bud could tell, the snow seemed to go on for miles around them. A flash in the starry night sky caught his attention, forcing him to look up as they made it to the top. Colored light beams weaved and twisted around one another in shades of green, red, and yellow. They danced across the sky, illuminating those below with their array of color.

Bud's smile never faltered.

Perhaps Alaska wasn't so bad after all.