Dear Santa - a B/J plus Gus ficlet
Yep, you read right: I wrote fic! It's a Christmas miracle! *is in shock*
I was talking to my Partner in Crime, shinodabear, yesterday about the fact that I'm not really feeling the Christmas mood. Of course, it's been many years since I actually felt Christmas-y so I'm not that worried about it. The conversation with her, who was shocked because I didn't even decorate my house this year, combined with the fact that I was writing my Christmas Cards, sparked the bunny for this fic. I was sure it would die immediately, like all the others did recently, but this one was a persistent bunny and it actually kept me busy until the wee hours last night. I couldn't sleep so I wrote.
This ficlet is the third installment in my 2 1/2 men 'verse but, as usual, it can be read as a standalone.
I hope you will enjoy!
Title: Dear Santa
Author: aschicca
Fandom: Queer as Folk US
Pairing: OC, Gus, implied Brian/Justin, Melanie/Lindsay and Ben/Michael
Timeline: post-513
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1739
Warning: none (extreme sappiness maybe?)
Beta: My beloved Partner in Crime, shinodabear *loves*. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Summary: Gus’ letter to Santa Claus. Third in my '2 ½ Men' 'verse but, as usual, can be read as a standalone.
Disclaimer: Not mine. CowLip and Showtime own everything.
Blinkie by: lilmama_hippie at faded_graphics
Previously in this 'verse: Overheard and Thunderstorm.
Miss Sally Anderson took the cup of tea she just filled, and sat at her desk to read over her class’ latest assignment. She had asked her second graders to write a paper on 'how to write a formal letter to Santa Claus' on their last lesson before the holiday break. She wanted to get all the papers corrected and graded as soon as possible to be able to enjoy her own time off for Christmas.
The first paper on the pile was written by Gus Petersen Marcus Kinney. Miss Sally took a sip of her tea, and started reading.
Dear Santa,
First of all, I need to be honest with you. One of my moms is Jewish. And my dad… well, I heard him using the b-word when he spoke about you. Miss Sally said that you wouldn’t mind and that I could write to you if I wanted to, but I thought to make things clear. Let me know if it’s a problem for you. I’ll understand.
Miss Sally couldn’t help it; she laughed outright at Gus’ opening. The kid was really smart and Miss Sally truly appreciated his straightforwardness and his quick wit, even if she had to reprimand him more than once for it in class. Having met both Gus’ mothers and his fathers, Miss Sally knew perfectly well who Gus had taken after. Shaking her head, a smile still lingering on her lips, she resumed her reading.
Now, I’m not sure what I can ask for in this letter. I was going to ask you for the X-Box 360 but I caught Justin hiding it under his and dad’s bed the other day, so I guess that’s taken care of. Wait… was I supposed to let you know that I kinda realized already last year that it’s my family that buys all the presents for me at Christmas? Are you going to be offended now? JR still believes it’s you, if that’s going to make you feel better. I won’t tell her. She’s still little, and she’s a girl. Girls aren’t that bright, anyway.
Miss Sally marked Gus’ last statement with a green pen and commented with a stern, “This is really not a nice thing to say, Gus. It’s not fair on your sister and it’s not fair on women in general. Please, consider your words carefully from now on.” The mere fact that she was greatly amused by Gus’ prose couldn’t allow her to pass over that particular remark without chastising the kid. She also marked “kinda” in green.
I’m supposed to ask for a gift here, right? It can’t be the X-Box, of course, and I guess asking for a few of the games would be stupid since I’m pretty sure dad bought those, too. Also, Mommy and Mama probly already bought me the easel, canvasses and paint I wanted. Did I tell you? I want to be a painter, like Mommy and Justin! More like Justin, actually, because he’s better than Mommy but I’m not supposed to say that. You won’t tell, will you, Santa? I already know Miss Sally won’t because she knows already but she didn’t tell Mommy.
After she marked Gus’ “probly” in green and wrote the correct expression on the sides, Miss Sally’s mind went back to a conversation she had had with all of Gus’ parents a few weeks before:
(“Miss Anderson, really, you can tell me. I know my son and I know he’s hiding something. So, please, if you know… just tell me, okay?” Lindsay Petersen, one of Gus’ mothers, had told her.
“Mrs. Petersen, I can assure you…” Miss Sally had started to say but she had been interrupted by Brian Kinney, one of Gus’ fathers.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, okay?” he’d said, only to be interrupted by a chorus of three shouted, “Brian!”s. Miss Sally found it kind of funny that two of the yells had been exasperated, and one amused and fond, but she hadn’t had time to dwell on the thought because Mr. Kinney, ignoring the reprimands completely, continued, “Just tell us what Gus is hiding so we can all stop acting like drama queens.”
Miss Sally had promised Gus not to tell, but she couldn’t really keep silent when confronted with four concerned parents, so she blurted everything out. “Gus let it slip in art class that he thinks his father, Justin Taylor, is a better painter than you are, Mrs. Petersen. Then he bit his lip and asked me not to tell anyone what he’d confessed because, he said, ‘What Mommy doesn’t know, can’t hurt her.’”
Mr. Kinney had burst out laughing at that while Mrs. Marcus had glared at him and Mr. Taylor had swatted him on the arm - even if it had appeared obvious he was trying to stifle his own laugh. But the real surprise for Miss Sally had come from Mrs. Petersen. Miss Sally had thought she’d be disappointed and even hurt by her son’s words but she only appeared relieved.
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Petersen had said. “Thank you, Miss Anderson. Thank you very much!”
“Are you okay, Mrs. Petersen?” Miss Sally hadn’t been able to restrain herself from asking.
“What? Oh, yes! Yes, of course.” Mrs. Petersen had said. Then, maybe realizing Miss Sally had been more than a little puzzled by her reaction, she’d started to speak again but Mr. Kinney had beaten her to it.
“Can’t argue with the truth, can you? But, don’t worry, Linds. Your work doesn’t completely suck, anyway. Justin’s just a genius,” he’d said, tongue in cheek.
And with a sarcastic, “Thank you, Brian,” from Mrs. Petersen, another glare from Mrs. Marcus, and a snort from Mr. Taylor, the four of them had left Miss Sally’s office.)
Snapping out of the memory, Miss Sally resumed her reading.
Anyway, since I can’t ask you for “real” gifts, do you think I could ask for something else? I do have a few wishes that I wouldn’t mind coming true, if you know what I mean. D’you think you could help me with those? Tell you what, I’ll ask and you decide, ok?
First of all, Uncle Ben. He and Uncle Michael are JR’s dads and they’re really awesomest. Uncle Michael has a comic book store and I love to stay there. He knows everything about comic books! He even writes one with Justin! I’m not allowed to read that one, at least not yet. Not fair, if you ask me. Uncle Michael has hundreds of stories to tell about the time when he and my dad were younger and used to hide in Uncle Michael’s room and read comics. Uncle Michael is dad’s best friend since they were kids and, even if some days it looks like Uncle Ted is dad’s best friend, I know that Uncle Michael will always be important for my dad.
Now, Uncle Ben is sick. I mean, he’s kinda ok now but he’s been in the hospital for a month recently.
Stopping only to mark a few of Gus’ misspellings with her green pen, Miss Sally kept reading attentively.
It was hard for Uncle Michael, for Hunter and for JR, too. And I know it was hard for all my family. We all love Uncle Ben. I even caught Auntie Emmett crying one day. So, Santa, can you make Uncle Ben all better? Can you help him so that he’ll never have to be in a hospital again? I’d appreciate that.
Miss Sally sighed. Everyone, her included, always thought Gus older than his age; but requests like the one she’d just read reminded Miss Sally of the fact that, with all his sharpness, wit and tongue-in-cheek attitude, Gus was really just a seven year old kid.
My second request is for my dad. We were at the mall last week and we met a woman and her two sons. I had never seen those people before and I don’t think I want to see them again. Dad wasn’t happy to see them, either, and Justin kept glaring at one of them, a boy named John. The woman was called Claire, and I don’t remember the other boy’s name… Peter, maybe? I don’t know.
Do you want to know who they were, Santa? My dad’s sister and his nephews. I had never even known dad had a sister before that day! I asked him about her when we got back to Britin, but he said, “Later, Sonnyboy!” and shut himself in his studio. I asked Justin if dad was angry with me but he said no, and he hugged me.
Later that night, I was thirsty so I went down to the kitchen to drink and I heard dad talking with Justin. Justin was saying to dad that he shouldn’t let that woman get to him - actually, Justin used a bad word for that woman but I’m not supposed to say bad words. Justin also said that those three people were not dad’s family. That we were, Justin and I, and that dad didn’t need to even think about those people ever again.
I wanted to go to them and tell dad that Justin was right, but I thought they might get angry that I listened to them so I went back to my room.
Now, for my request: can you make sure those people stay away from my dad from now on, Santa? We don’t need them in our lives. I don’t want them to make my dad all upset again.
Oh, and… could you not tell dad I said he was upset, too?
Miss Sally didn’t know whether to be amused or moved by Gus’ words. One thing was sure: this kid completely loved his family. Miss Sally couldn’t fight the grin that blossomed on her face at the thought of Mr. Kinney reading this particular segment of the assignment.
I think that’s all, Santa. Thank you for listening, and thanks for taking my requests into consideration (I heard dad say that on the phone to one of his clients one day. It works, I think.)
Merry Christmas and Happy Hannukkah to you.
Gus Petersen Marcus Kinney Taylor.
Laughing, Miss Sally graded Gus’ letter with an ‘A’ and vowed to tell his parents what a wonderful work they were doing with their child.
Miss Sally took a sip of her tea, and started on the second letter to Santa from her pile.
I was talking to my Partner in Crime, shinodabear, yesterday about the fact that I'm not really feeling the Christmas mood. Of course, it's been many years since I actually felt Christmas-y so I'm not that worried about it. The conversation with her, who was shocked because I didn't even decorate my house this year, combined with the fact that I was writing my Christmas Cards, sparked the bunny for this fic. I was sure it would die immediately, like all the others did recently, but this one was a persistent bunny and it actually kept me busy until the wee hours last night. I couldn't sleep so I wrote.
This ficlet is the third installment in my 2 1/2 men 'verse but, as usual, it can be read as a standalone.
I hope you will enjoy!
Title: Dear Santa
Author: aschicca
Fandom: Queer as Folk US
Pairing: OC, Gus, implied Brian/Justin, Melanie/Lindsay and Ben/Michael
Timeline: post-513
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1739
Warning: none (extreme sappiness maybe?)
Beta: My beloved Partner in Crime, shinodabear *loves*. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Summary: Gus’ letter to Santa Claus. Third in my '2 ½ Men' 'verse but, as usual, can be read as a standalone.
Disclaimer: Not mine. CowLip and Showtime own everything.
Blinkie by: lilmama_hippie at faded_graphics
Previously in this 'verse: Overheard and Thunderstorm.
Miss Sally Anderson took the cup of tea she just filled, and sat at her desk to read over her class’ latest assignment. She had asked her second graders to write a paper on 'how to write a formal letter to Santa Claus' on their last lesson before the holiday break. She wanted to get all the papers corrected and graded as soon as possible to be able to enjoy her own time off for Christmas.
The first paper on the pile was written by Gus Petersen Marcus Kinney. Miss Sally took a sip of her tea, and started reading.
Dear Santa,
First of all, I need to be honest with you. One of my moms is Jewish. And my dad… well, I heard him using the b-word when he spoke about you. Miss Sally said that you wouldn’t mind and that I could write to you if I wanted to, but I thought to make things clear. Let me know if it’s a problem for you. I’ll understand.
Miss Sally couldn’t help it; she laughed outright at Gus’ opening. The kid was really smart and Miss Sally truly appreciated his straightforwardness and his quick wit, even if she had to reprimand him more than once for it in class. Having met both Gus’ mothers and his fathers, Miss Sally knew perfectly well who Gus had taken after. Shaking her head, a smile still lingering on her lips, she resumed her reading.
Now, I’m not sure what I can ask for in this letter. I was going to ask you for the X-Box 360 but I caught Justin hiding it under his and dad’s bed the other day, so I guess that’s taken care of. Wait… was I supposed to let you know that I kinda realized already last year that it’s my family that buys all the presents for me at Christmas? Are you going to be offended now? JR still believes it’s you, if that’s going to make you feel better. I won’t tell her. She’s still little, and she’s a girl. Girls aren’t that bright, anyway.
Miss Sally marked Gus’ last statement with a green pen and commented with a stern, “This is really not a nice thing to say, Gus. It’s not fair on your sister and it’s not fair on women in general. Please, consider your words carefully from now on.” The mere fact that she was greatly amused by Gus’ prose couldn’t allow her to pass over that particular remark without chastising the kid. She also marked “kinda” in green.
I’m supposed to ask for a gift here, right? It can’t be the X-Box, of course, and I guess asking for a few of the games would be stupid since I’m pretty sure dad bought those, too. Also, Mommy and Mama probly already bought me the easel, canvasses and paint I wanted. Did I tell you? I want to be a painter, like Mommy and Justin! More like Justin, actually, because he’s better than Mommy but I’m not supposed to say that. You won’t tell, will you, Santa? I already know Miss Sally won’t because she knows already but she didn’t tell Mommy.
After she marked Gus’ “probly” in green and wrote the correct expression on the sides, Miss Sally’s mind went back to a conversation she had had with all of Gus’ parents a few weeks before:
(“Miss Anderson, really, you can tell me. I know my son and I know he’s hiding something. So, please, if you know… just tell me, okay?” Lindsay Petersen, one of Gus’ mothers, had told her.
“Mrs. Petersen, I can assure you…” Miss Sally had started to say but she had been interrupted by Brian Kinney, one of Gus’ fathers.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, okay?” he’d said, only to be interrupted by a chorus of three shouted, “Brian!”s. Miss Sally found it kind of funny that two of the yells had been exasperated, and one amused and fond, but she hadn’t had time to dwell on the thought because Mr. Kinney, ignoring the reprimands completely, continued, “Just tell us what Gus is hiding so we can all stop acting like drama queens.”
Miss Sally had promised Gus not to tell, but she couldn’t really keep silent when confronted with four concerned parents, so she blurted everything out. “Gus let it slip in art class that he thinks his father, Justin Taylor, is a better painter than you are, Mrs. Petersen. Then he bit his lip and asked me not to tell anyone what he’d confessed because, he said, ‘What Mommy doesn’t know, can’t hurt her.’”
Mr. Kinney had burst out laughing at that while Mrs. Marcus had glared at him and Mr. Taylor had swatted him on the arm - even if it had appeared obvious he was trying to stifle his own laugh. But the real surprise for Miss Sally had come from Mrs. Petersen. Miss Sally had thought she’d be disappointed and even hurt by her son’s words but she only appeared relieved.
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Petersen had said. “Thank you, Miss Anderson. Thank you very much!”
“Are you okay, Mrs. Petersen?” Miss Sally hadn’t been able to restrain herself from asking.
“What? Oh, yes! Yes, of course.” Mrs. Petersen had said. Then, maybe realizing Miss Sally had been more than a little puzzled by her reaction, she’d started to speak again but Mr. Kinney had beaten her to it.
“Can’t argue with the truth, can you? But, don’t worry, Linds. Your work doesn’t completely suck, anyway. Justin’s just a genius,” he’d said, tongue in cheek.
And with a sarcastic, “Thank you, Brian,” from Mrs. Petersen, another glare from Mrs. Marcus, and a snort from Mr. Taylor, the four of them had left Miss Sally’s office.)
Snapping out of the memory, Miss Sally resumed her reading.
Anyway, since I can’t ask you for “real” gifts, do you think I could ask for something else? I do have a few wishes that I wouldn’t mind coming true, if you know what I mean. D’you think you could help me with those? Tell you what, I’ll ask and you decide, ok?
First of all, Uncle Ben. He and Uncle Michael are JR’s dads and they’re really awesomest. Uncle Michael has a comic book store and I love to stay there. He knows everything about comic books! He even writes one with Justin! I’m not allowed to read that one, at least not yet. Not fair, if you ask me. Uncle Michael has hundreds of stories to tell about the time when he and my dad were younger and used to hide in Uncle Michael’s room and read comics. Uncle Michael is dad’s best friend since they were kids and, even if some days it looks like Uncle Ted is dad’s best friend, I know that Uncle Michael will always be important for my dad.
Now, Uncle Ben is sick. I mean, he’s kinda ok now but he’s been in the hospital for a month recently.
Stopping only to mark a few of Gus’ misspellings with her green pen, Miss Sally kept reading attentively.
It was hard for Uncle Michael, for Hunter and for JR, too. And I know it was hard for all my family. We all love Uncle Ben. I even caught Auntie Emmett crying one day. So, Santa, can you make Uncle Ben all better? Can you help him so that he’ll never have to be in a hospital again? I’d appreciate that.
Miss Sally sighed. Everyone, her included, always thought Gus older than his age; but requests like the one she’d just read reminded Miss Sally of the fact that, with all his sharpness, wit and tongue-in-cheek attitude, Gus was really just a seven year old kid.
My second request is for my dad. We were at the mall last week and we met a woman and her two sons. I had never seen those people before and I don’t think I want to see them again. Dad wasn’t happy to see them, either, and Justin kept glaring at one of them, a boy named John. The woman was called Claire, and I don’t remember the other boy’s name… Peter, maybe? I don’t know.
Do you want to know who they were, Santa? My dad’s sister and his nephews. I had never even known dad had a sister before that day! I asked him about her when we got back to Britin, but he said, “Later, Sonnyboy!” and shut himself in his studio. I asked Justin if dad was angry with me but he said no, and he hugged me.
Later that night, I was thirsty so I went down to the kitchen to drink and I heard dad talking with Justin. Justin was saying to dad that he shouldn’t let that woman get to him - actually, Justin used a bad word for that woman but I’m not supposed to say bad words. Justin also said that those three people were not dad’s family. That we were, Justin and I, and that dad didn’t need to even think about those people ever again.
I wanted to go to them and tell dad that Justin was right, but I thought they might get angry that I listened to them so I went back to my room.
Now, for my request: can you make sure those people stay away from my dad from now on, Santa? We don’t need them in our lives. I don’t want them to make my dad all upset again.
Oh, and… could you not tell dad I said he was upset, too?
Miss Sally didn’t know whether to be amused or moved by Gus’ words. One thing was sure: this kid completely loved his family. Miss Sally couldn’t fight the grin that blossomed on her face at the thought of Mr. Kinney reading this particular segment of the assignment.
I think that’s all, Santa. Thank you for listening, and thanks for taking my requests into consideration (I heard dad say that on the phone to one of his clients one day. It works, I think.)
Merry Christmas and Happy Hannukkah to you.
Gus Petersen Marcus Kinney Taylor.
Laughing, Miss Sally graded Gus’ letter with an ‘A’ and vowed to tell his parents what a wonderful work they were doing with their child.
Miss Sally took a sip of her tea, and started on the second letter to Santa from her pile.