Oh Christmas Tree

Quinn jerked awake to strong kicks to the back of the passenger seat and the sound of Clay's scolding voice. "Wolverine, how many times have I told you to hold still already?"

"I can't," the eight-year-old beamed, pointing at the thickening trees passing outside the car in a mixed blur of evergreen pines and leafless branches; "That's Harper Park, I know where we're going now."

"Sorry," Clay grimaced apologetically at Quinn; "How are you feeling, Sleeping Beauty? As you can tell, you didn't miss much, non-stop guessing game in progress here."

"You love it, you dork," she smiled knowingly, but folded her hands across her stomach and exhaled slowly. "Not feeling too great honestly, I hope Lil has her famous tea ready."

"I'm sure she will, just hang in there," he said encouragingly, but Logan took that as his cue to start bouncing up and down again.

"I knew it," he said triumphantly. "Best Christmas surprise ever!" He leaned forward and trailed his small fingers across Quinn's shoulder blades; "Dad sucks at dropping hints," he told her. "You missed all the fun, Mom."

"Oh, really?" Quinn smirked at Clay's frustrated pout. "There will be plenty of time for fun when we get home, alright? Right now, do you think you could stop squirming back there, please? I'd rather not throw up right here if that's alright with you," she laughed.

"Sure." Logan nodded quickly and looped his arms affectionately around her neck before leaning back calmly. "Sorry, Mom, love you."

"Hey, lovebirds, we're home," Clay cut in before Quinn could respond, and Logan raced out of the car. "Having fun mocking me, are we?" he asked Quinn teasingly as he helped her out of the vehicle.

"It beats vomiting in the car," she shot back honestly, and he pulled her instinctively closer. "There's no need to look at me like that, by the way. I made it this far in one piece, didn't I?"

"How am I looking at you, exactly? My girl is a total badass," he grinned affectionately and pressed a kiss to her forehead; "Something tells me it's going to be well worth the trip, look over there."

Logan had dashed down the stone path leading to Sam and Lil's front porch and was already standing in his grandmother's tight embrace. "You've grown so much," she exclaimed. "Oh, we've missed you, sweetheart."

"Grandma, you're squishing me," he giggled, peering over her shoulder curiously. "Where's Grandpa?"

"Upstairs probably, he'll be down soon," she promised. "When you get to our age, the old knees are a menace, you know."

"Old knees don't change your priorities clearly," Clay cut in fondly. "Where's my hug?"

"Jealous, are we?" Lil teased as she delivered the requested embrace. "Hi honey, there's a surprise better than a hug waiting for you inside. Guess who's making tea right now?"

"Mom needs your magic tea, she feels sick," Logan interrupted, and Lil grimaced sympathetically at Quinn.

"I remember that feeling, I'm sure you've heard how worth the misery it is," she commiserated. "Let's go inside and relax, alright?"

"Sounds like a plan," Quinn murmured weakly. "Sorry for being so pathetic," she sighed, allowing Clay to take her jacket as she wandered down the hall and collapsed shakily on the living room couch.

Lil shook her head firmly, but the next voice came from the direction of the kitchen down the hall. "Nonsense, as I recall Sara got violently sick the day I found out about my first grand-baby, you're doing very well." With that, Marie Evans emerged around the corner, carrying a tray of steaming teacups; "This should help settle the queasiness," she said, handing one to Quinn, who smiled at her in thanks.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" Clay grinned. He caught Lil's amused gaze over his mother's shoulder as she hugged him; "You were right about that extra surprise," he said appreciatively.

"I figured as much," she said fondly. "We told Marie she's welcome to stay here for the weekend; it'll be so much easier if we're all together." She crossed over to the staircase as she spoke: "Samuel Kay, what's keeping you up there?" she called in frustration. "I'll be right back, guys."

"Where's my grandson got to?" Marie asked, glancing around the room as Quinn leaned wearily against Clay's shoulder. She suppressed a smile at the sight and narrowed her eyes at her son; "I'm not very happy with you right now, kid," she informed him.

"What did I do?" Clay protested indignantly, the hand stroking Quinn's back, coming to an abrupt halt.

"I'll tell you what you don't do lately, pick up the phone," Marie sighed, making a face at him. "The whole point of going into business with your best friend was supposed to be that you don't have to work so hard. Nathan Scott saved you from rock bottom once, and I'm very grateful, but I wish you would slow down sometimes."

"Save your breath, Marie," Quinn mumbled with her eyes closed. "Even Nathan has told him that a million times, the hard work is too much of a habit now. And you," she added to Clay: "keep those fingers moving, the massage feels so good."

"You can't take sides with my mother and still expect the pampering, missy," Clay teased her, even as his fingers resumed their exploration of her shoulder blades.

"Sure I can," Quinn giggled. "You just can't help yourself, luckily for me."

"You are terrible," he groaned, glancing at his mother only to see her dark blue eyes, identical to his, twinkling in amusement. "Where is Logan anyway? I need reinforcements around you two!"

"I was wondering that myself," Marie said, turning at the sound of pounding footsteps on the staircase. "Scratch that, only one person in this house right now is capable of that much noise just taking the stairs."

"Where's the fire, Wolverine?" Clay joked as the eight-year-old charged around the bend of the spiral staircase. "Is something wrong?" The weight of Quinn's head lifted off his shoulder at the concerned tone, but Clay kept staring at his son, now standing on the bottom-most step, looking bitterly disappointed. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Grandma and Grandpa forgot to get a tree," Logan explained dejectedly, stroking the feathery wings of the Christmas angel he was carefully holding. The front of the figurine's flowing white gown had a square of fabric stitched to it, printed with the smiling faces of Sara and her older sister Isabel. "Mommy and Aunt Izzie belong at the top of a Christmas tree, and we don't have one," he ranted agitatedly.

"Calm down, bud, it's not the end of the world," Clay attempted to reason with the boy. "Your Mommy and Aunt Izzie will always be your angels, with or without a Christmas tree. Okay?"

"But it's almost Christmas," Logan retorted, appealing to Quinn in desperation now. "We have to have a tree! It's not that dark outside yet, please?"

She shifted out of Clay's protective grip and smiled apologetically at the little boy; "Don't look at me, sweetie," she sighed and nodded at her stomach. "The baby is tired." She glanced at Clay encouragingly at the same time as Logan shifted his pleading gaze; "You should go, Clay," she urged. "The kid has a point; it's not a real Christmas without a decent tree."

"Oh God, he's making those eyes," Marie laughed, as Logan jumped down from the bottom step and skipped over to her. "How can you resist this kid, Clay?"

"Please, Dad?" Logan pleaded, holding Marie's hand as he danced around her in energetic circles. "Nana understands me," he grinned.

"I don't know, bud," Clay sighed, glancing helplessly at Quinn, who merely raised her eyebrows at him with a teasing smirk.

"I find it offensive that you think I need a babysitter around the clock, dork," she laughed. "Nice try, you have to go!"

"But Quinn, you're…" he began in protest, but she put her finger to his lips in a shushing gesture, making Logan cheer appreciatively.

"I am pregnant, that is all," she said firmly. "I'm going to take this baby to the shower and then to bed, you are going to get us a nice tree. End of discussion!" She winked at Logan over Clay's shoulder; "How was that, Wolverine? Are you happy now?"

"Way to go, Mom," he beamed. "That was awesome! If it worked anyway," he said, staring hopefully at Clay once more.

"Always does," Clay sighed, admitting defeat at last. "Go grab your jacket, kiddo."

"Finally!" Logan shifted his hopeful gaze to his grandmother instead. "You're coming too, right, Nana?" he asked Marie, widening his eyes adorably again.

"Stop with the eyes, I'm in," she said affectionately, just as Sam and Lil came down the stairs.

"I swear that boy gets more energetic every day," Lil said fondly, but her gaze clouded with sadness when it landed on the Christmas angel Logan had abandoned on the coffee table in his excitement. "He's completely right; the tree is such a tradition in this house. I can't believe we forgot about it."

Sam's hand came down on her shoulder at the regretful tone, but Logan interrupted once more, pulling on his jacket as he re-entered the living room. "It's okay, Grandma," he said softly. "I'm very convincing, you know. I got Dad and Nana to say yes to the tree shopping already. This way, we get to find one together. Cool, right?"

"Very cool," she smiled, pulling him into another tight hug. "Is there room for one more in that plan? I need to make up for forgetting about it in the first place."

"The Jeep seats seven, there's plenty of room," Clay told her. "What about you, Sam?"

"I'll pass," the old man said in his typical gruff voice. "The old knee has been acting up, good excuse to keep Quinn company. You find us a good one, alright, buddy?"

"I will, Grandpa," the eight-year-old promised, his smile expanding as the tree hunting party grew. "Now can we go, please?"

"I ran you a bubble bath," Sam told Quinn as the rest of the group prepared to leave for the Christmas tree lot. "Couldn't help over-hearing and that shower talk is nonsense, might as well unwind properly."

"That's so sweet, thanks." Quinn smiled gratefully at Sara's father as Clay came back in for a kiss goodbye. "You hear that? The pampering continues just fine without you, now have fun," she demanded.

"Ouch, you wound me, babe," he laughed and kissed her firmly. "See you soon, Q; I love you."

"Right back at you," she smiled, propelling him towards the door. "Now go before it gets dark, or Logan abducts his grandmothers, just look at that."

Sure enough, Logan was already skipping down the garden path sandwiched between Lil and Marie. They had almost reached the Jeep when the eight-year-old finally glanced over his shoulder; "Hurry up, Dad," he urged impatiently, and Clay rolled his eyes affectionately as he finally let go of Quinn's hand.

"Go get your angels a great tree," Quinn called after the little boy, and he waved at her before climbing into the car. She leaned against the door frame as Clay hesitated on the porch and stared adoringly at her. "What now? Get going," she giggled, poking him teasingly. "I'll still be right here after you get the kid a tree, promise."

"You better be," he winked, pressing a final kiss to her cheek as the Jeep's horn blared, and they turned to see Logan leaning towards the steering wheel from the back seat, caught in the act. "Rascal," Clay said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Take it easy, Q, okay?"

"You worry too much, dork," she protested. "Baby and I will be squeaky clean by the time you get back, now go before Logan disturbs the whole neighborhood."

"Okay fine, I'm going," he sighed dramatically and headed for the car at last, just as Sam came up beside Quinn to watch the group depart.

"Such a knucklehead," Quinn said, shaking her head with a fond smile as the car disappeared from view.

"He's compensating," Sam pointed out wisely. "Between what happened to Sara and abandoning Logan for five years, you're lucky a little over-protectiveness is all you have to deal with."

"I know," she said thoughtfully. "I'm not complaining; I just hope that Clay can stop feeling guilty about it all one day."

"We all want that," Sam agreed. "Are you feeling alright? How about that bath now?"

"That sounds lovely," she said gratefully. "I think Clay took the bags upstairs earlier."

"Probably," he nodded, guiding her slowly up the stairs. When they reached the guest bedroom, he laid a hand on her shoulder as she made to enter the room. "I just wanted to say thank you, Quinn," he said softly.

"For what?" she asked curiously, surprised by the sudden emotion shining in his eyes.

"For respecting my little girl the way you do," he said thickly. "Sometimes I think Clay still worries I'm upset with him for leaving. The truth is I'm very grateful he was fortunate enough to meet you…and so was Logan."

"They mean the world to me," she said earnestly, touched by the confession. Quinn's hand drifted subconsciously to her stomach, and she smiled; "I will never forget that Sara is part of the reason this baby will have a wonderful big brother," she promised waveringly, swiping furiously at her eyes. "Now look, you're making me cry!"

"Don't," he said, drawing her into a firm hug. "This is your Christmas miracle, enjoy every minute of it. Blame a sappy old man if you must," he chuckled.

"Deal," she laughed and shoved the bedroom door open. "I'm gonna get cleaned up now, see you in a little while."

"Take your time, sweetheart," he said fondly and wandered away to give her privacy. Outside the window, gentle snowfall steadily hit the garden path and began to coat the lawn in white, promising at least visually a fairytale holiday season.