[Ficlet] O Christmas Tree
ooc: Takes place tomorrow.
For as long as Carter can remember, the Ghazikhanians have never had a real Christmas tree.
Christmases have always been fun, though, even when he was a really little kid and they didn't have too much money and Mom worried a lot, because they were together, and Mom would bake something and they'd hang out on the couch watching Charlie Brown and lots of other cartoons.
For the last few years, they've had an artificial tree, which folds up and gets stuck in a closet for the rest of the year. And it's okay, but at school they have a massive real tree, and just the smell is awesome, and so Carter had decided to ask Mom if, this year, maybe, they could get a real tree. He'd pretty much assumed she'd say no. After all, the Professor is a billionaire or something, and the artificial tree is still around somewhere, and...
Mom had smiled and said she'd ask Frank.
And that evening, Frank had tucked him up in bed, kissed his forehead, and said: "So you're coming with me to track down the biggest Christmas tree in the city on Saturday, right?"
Carter had grinned so much his jaw had hurt.
So, on Saturday afternoon, he and Frank put on their sweaters and coats and promise Mom they won't tire themselves out or be home too late. One of Frank's friends from work has come over with his pickup truck to help them out, because Frank's arm still hurts, and he still gets a bit woozy sometimes. Mom says that can happen after you've bled all over the place and been on really strong painkillers.
Anyway, it's kind of cool because Carter gets to sit up front between Frank and Mr. Jonas while they drive a few blocks to the nearest place selling trees.
"Dad, are we getting lights, too?" Carter asks on the way. He'd asked about decorations before, but he hadn't thought about lights...
Frank puts an arm around him. "Don't worry. I've got a list. We won't forget anything."
"He's calling you Dad now?" Mr. Jonas says, as if he finds it funny, but when Carter looks up at him he just clears his throat. "Um. Cute."
Frank musses his hair and grins, and Carter decides not to worry about it too much. Sammy had said sort of the same thing at school. Mom and Frank aren't married, and Frank isn't his bio-dad, and Mom and Frank haven't even been together that long... All of which are really good points. Except... Except Carter just knows that it's the right thing. His bio-dad is no kind of dad at all, and Frank's like some kind of dad he'd wish for for Christmas.
The image of Frank wrapped up in paper and tied with a bow under the tree almost makes him burst out in a fit of giggles, but then they're there, and Frank is getting out.
"Just give me a call when you're ready," Mr. Jonas says, as Frank gives Carter a hand down.
Carter holds onto Frank's hand tightly. There are a lot of people here, and it's much bigger than he'd expected. Ms. Grey has been really good at teaching him how to deal with keeping other people's thoughts out of his head, but it's not that... It's just really...
"It's busy," he says to Frank.
"I know. Don't worry. We'll still find a great tree."
Sometimes Carter wonders if other people just know Frank's with the FBI. He doesn't have a badge or a gun, and right now he doesn't even have a suit on, but somehow they still manage to move through the crowd like everyone moves aside just for them. And then Frank finds a store assistant who has a whole ring of people asking for her help, but she beams at them and helps them instead.
"Do they teach you to do mind tricks at the FBI?" Carter whispers as they follow her.
"Sort of," Frank whispers back. "But I think having a cute kid with me helps."
Carter has to think about that one for a bit.
By the time they call Mr. Jonas back, they're waiting at the entrance to the store with a tree and several bags of decorations, including a line of tinsel wrapped around Carter's neck like a scarf. The tree isn't quite as big as the one at the mansion, but Frank had pointed out that their ceiling at home isn't quite as high as the one at the mansion either. Anyway, it's still twice Carter's size, and green, and prickly, and it smells like one of those air fresheners, except real.
"What do you want for Christmas, Dad?" he asks, tangling his fingers with the ones on Frank's bandaged hand. "An' don't say a sweater."
"Nothing wrong with wanting a sweater."
"Or socks. Grandma always buys me socks."
"Socks are good. Your toes deserve a present too."
"Hmph."
They wait for a moment. There's no sign of the truck.
"Well, since you asked so nicely, Master Ghazikhanian, what I'd really love is one of those great drawings of yours. I'm spending so much time in the kitchen at the moment, and I noticed our fridge is looking pretty bare and boring..."
Carter grins. "I'll see what I can do, Agent Lundy."
Frank squeezes his fingers. "Merry Christmas, son."
"Merry Christmas, Dad."
For as long as Carter can remember, the Ghazikhanians have never had a real Christmas tree.
Christmases have always been fun, though, even when he was a really little kid and they didn't have too much money and Mom worried a lot, because they were together, and Mom would bake something and they'd hang out on the couch watching Charlie Brown and lots of other cartoons.
For the last few years, they've had an artificial tree, which folds up and gets stuck in a closet for the rest of the year. And it's okay, but at school they have a massive real tree, and just the smell is awesome, and so Carter had decided to ask Mom if, this year, maybe, they could get a real tree. He'd pretty much assumed she'd say no. After all, the Professor is a billionaire or something, and the artificial tree is still around somewhere, and...
Mom had smiled and said she'd ask Frank.
And that evening, Frank had tucked him up in bed, kissed his forehead, and said: "So you're coming with me to track down the biggest Christmas tree in the city on Saturday, right?"
Carter had grinned so much his jaw had hurt.
So, on Saturday afternoon, he and Frank put on their sweaters and coats and promise Mom they won't tire themselves out or be home too late. One of Frank's friends from work has come over with his pickup truck to help them out, because Frank's arm still hurts, and he still gets a bit woozy sometimes. Mom says that can happen after you've bled all over the place and been on really strong painkillers.
Anyway, it's kind of cool because Carter gets to sit up front between Frank and Mr. Jonas while they drive a few blocks to the nearest place selling trees.
"Dad, are we getting lights, too?" Carter asks on the way. He'd asked about decorations before, but he hadn't thought about lights...
Frank puts an arm around him. "Don't worry. I've got a list. We won't forget anything."
"He's calling you Dad now?" Mr. Jonas says, as if he finds it funny, but when Carter looks up at him he just clears his throat. "Um. Cute."
Frank musses his hair and grins, and Carter decides not to worry about it too much. Sammy had said sort of the same thing at school. Mom and Frank aren't married, and Frank isn't his bio-dad, and Mom and Frank haven't even been together that long... All of which are really good points. Except... Except Carter just knows that it's the right thing. His bio-dad is no kind of dad at all, and Frank's like some kind of dad he'd wish for for Christmas.
The image of Frank wrapped up in paper and tied with a bow under the tree almost makes him burst out in a fit of giggles, but then they're there, and Frank is getting out.
"Just give me a call when you're ready," Mr. Jonas says, as Frank gives Carter a hand down.
Carter holds onto Frank's hand tightly. There are a lot of people here, and it's much bigger than he'd expected. Ms. Grey has been really good at teaching him how to deal with keeping other people's thoughts out of his head, but it's not that... It's just really...
"It's busy," he says to Frank.
"I know. Don't worry. We'll still find a great tree."
Sometimes Carter wonders if other people just know Frank's with the FBI. He doesn't have a badge or a gun, and right now he doesn't even have a suit on, but somehow they still manage to move through the crowd like everyone moves aside just for them. And then Frank finds a store assistant who has a whole ring of people asking for her help, but she beams at them and helps them instead.
"Do they teach you to do mind tricks at the FBI?" Carter whispers as they follow her.
"Sort of," Frank whispers back. "But I think having a cute kid with me helps."
Carter has to think about that one for a bit.
By the time they call Mr. Jonas back, they're waiting at the entrance to the store with a tree and several bags of decorations, including a line of tinsel wrapped around Carter's neck like a scarf. The tree isn't quite as big as the one at the mansion, but Frank had pointed out that their ceiling at home isn't quite as high as the one at the mansion either. Anyway, it's still twice Carter's size, and green, and prickly, and it smells like one of those air fresheners, except real.
"What do you want for Christmas, Dad?" he asks, tangling his fingers with the ones on Frank's bandaged hand. "An' don't say a sweater."
"Nothing wrong with wanting a sweater."
"Or socks. Grandma always buys me socks."
"Socks are good. Your toes deserve a present too."
"Hmph."
They wait for a moment. There's no sign of the truck.
"Well, since you asked so nicely, Master Ghazikhanian, what I'd really love is one of those great drawings of yours. I'm spending so much time in the kitchen at the moment, and I noticed our fridge is looking pretty bare and boring..."
Carter grins. "I'll see what I can do, Agent Lundy."
Frank squeezes his fingers. "Merry Christmas, son."
"Merry Christmas, Dad."