TVU 304: Letter To A Metaphor (G)
Farscape fic, set towards the end of the ep Terra Firma. No other warnings needed.
One shot, straight to the board, in response to erinm_4600’s Livejournal TVU 304 Challenge ‘Letters To Santa.’
No money made, not mine etc
Letter To A Metaphor
Olivia Crichton cast her tired eyes around the ruins of her living room. Dawn was starting to illuminate the scene, casting a weird, ghoulish light over everything. Some of the local kids would already be up opening their Christmas presents - at least, those who hadn’t been kept awake by the violent events last night Chez Crichton would be.
Olivia sniffed back a tear and leant against the broken mantelpiece. Some Christmas morning she was having… That was when she noticed the slip of paper, tucked up inside the chimney. Frowning, she pulled it loose and opened it, to reveal a note written in a simple, almost child-like, but precise and neat hand.
Dear Santa,
My friend Olivia told me that it is traditional on this planet to write a note to you and hide it up the chimney. The note should ask for what you want most for Christmas. Then, if you have been good, it might come true. So I am told.
I have not been good. Although in my defence, I did not even know what ‘good’ was before I met John Crichton. Still, my unborn child has done no wrong, and for their sake I ask that you grant my wish. I want to know. No, I need to know where I stand with John. Is there any way I can repair our relationship? If so, show me how. If not, then I need to resolve things so that I can begin making a future without John for my baby and myself.
I feel silly writing this, knowing you are just a metaphor, but if it one of John’s traditions and it seems harmless. Besides, I do not know what else I can do to resolve this situation.
Yours in hope
Aeryn Sun
Olivia snuffled back another tear and found something to write with.
Dear Aeryn,
If you are reading this note then I believe your letter to Santa was answered, and answered in a way that would make all of our family happy.
I hope you like the ring - it belonged to John’s mother and now, I hope, it belongs to you. Humans call such things family heirlooms. One day you should pass it along to your child or to their partner. It is difficult to say when, but I am sure that you will know when that time is right. Before then, though, your good friend Olivia would like to see you, John and your children again. If you are wearing the ring, all the better. Those are her most sincere Christmas wishes.
Your good friend
The Metaphor
Olivia folded her note into a tiny square, wrote ‘To Aeryn’ clearly on the outside and tucked it inside the small jewellery box, beneath the platform supporting her mother’s ring.
The end
One shot, straight to the board, in response to erinm_4600’s Livejournal TVU 304 Challenge ‘Letters To Santa.’
No money made, not mine etc
Letter To A Metaphor
Olivia Crichton cast her tired eyes around the ruins of her living room. Dawn was starting to illuminate the scene, casting a weird, ghoulish light over everything. Some of the local kids would already be up opening their Christmas presents - at least, those who hadn’t been kept awake by the violent events last night Chez Crichton would be.
Olivia sniffed back a tear and leant against the broken mantelpiece. Some Christmas morning she was having… That was when she noticed the slip of paper, tucked up inside the chimney. Frowning, she pulled it loose and opened it, to reveal a note written in a simple, almost child-like, but precise and neat hand.
Dear Santa,
My friend Olivia told me that it is traditional on this planet to write a note to you and hide it up the chimney. The note should ask for what you want most for Christmas. Then, if you have been good, it might come true. So I am told.
I have not been good. Although in my defence, I did not even know what ‘good’ was before I met John Crichton. Still, my unborn child has done no wrong, and for their sake I ask that you grant my wish. I want to know. No, I need to know where I stand with John. Is there any way I can repair our relationship? If so, show me how. If not, then I need to resolve things so that I can begin making a future without John for my baby and myself.
I feel silly writing this, knowing you are just a metaphor, but if it one of John’s traditions and it seems harmless. Besides, I do not know what else I can do to resolve this situation.
Yours in hope
Aeryn Sun
Olivia snuffled back another tear and found something to write with.
Dear Aeryn,
If you are reading this note then I believe your letter to Santa was answered, and answered in a way that would make all of our family happy.
I hope you like the ring - it belonged to John’s mother and now, I hope, it belongs to you. Humans call such things family heirlooms. One day you should pass it along to your child or to their partner. It is difficult to say when, but I am sure that you will know when that time is right. Before then, though, your good friend Olivia would like to see you, John and your children again. If you are wearing the ring, all the better. Those are her most sincere Christmas wishes.
Your good friend
The Metaphor
Olivia folded her note into a tiny square, wrote ‘To Aeryn’ clearly on the outside and tucked it inside the small jewellery box, beneath the platform supporting her mother’s ring.
The end