O Tannenbaum (Merry Christmas from the FF boys)
O Tannenbaum
by Lokei
PG, not mine, yadda yadda, Happy Holidays!
“So how exactly were you planning to get this thing back to the Baxter, Reed?”
Reed thought there was an unfair amount of amusement in Johnny’s voice. “You didn’t have to come along, you know,” he grumbled, looking at the fourteen foot blue spruce now propped up against the brushed silver of what the media insisted on calling the ‘Fantasticar.’
“I was counting on Sue being here to hold it steady with a force field,” he added.
Johnny grinned and bounced a little on his toes, cheerfully unaffected by the biting upstate-New-York cold in a leather jacket and jeans while Reed was bundled into what felt like seventy five layers of wool and polypropelene. “Such a pity she wanted to go Christmas shopping instead.” Johnny didn’t look like he thought it was a pity at all.
“You know, man, if we can’t get this thing back, Sue’s gonna give us that really annoying ‘I told you so’ look. She wanted to get a tree from the lot down the street.”
Reed flipped a dismissive hand. “They were already losing needles, better to get one fresh,” he said automatically, lost already in the logistics of too little rope, too much tree, and no roof rack.
Johnny snorted. “Well, I can’t carry it back, unless you want a scorched pine tree in the lab.”
“Actually, spruces-which this is, not pine- and most other evergreens are relatively flame-retardant when kept well-watered,” Reed countered, eyes flicking between Johnny, the car, and the tree. He bit his lip and frowned.
“Got it,” he said.
Johnny waited. And waited. “Uh, Reed? Gonna fill the rest of us in on this epiphany? And I don’t mean the one with the three wise men.”
Reed snorted, which Johnny took as a sign that the scientist had actually been hanging around the pilot too long. “Words of four syllables and a Biblical reference, Johnny? Pity Ben’s not here for you to shock.”
Johnny heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Can’t fool you anymore, huh?” He gestured again. “So how are we getting this thing home in our super silver sleigh?”
Reed looked at him expressively. “Just get in the driver’s seat, Johnny.”
“Sure thing, Santa-wait, huh?” The grin on the younger man’s face could be held solely responsible for global warming. “You’re letting me drive?”
Reed sighed without the slightest exaggeration-every ounce of breath was heartfelt. “No offensive flying, please, Johnny. I’m going to be wrapped around the tree to keep it in the backseat and I’d rather not fall off somewhere over the Hudson.”
Johnny’s eyes sparked. “If I fly nice now, will you let me fly it again?”
Reed frowned. “That depends entirely on how many spruce needles I have stuck in uncomfortable places by the time we get home. And if you call me Santa one more time, then no, never.”
Johnny clapped a hand on Reed’s shoulders, noticeably warm even through layers of clothing. “Joys of the Christmas season, Reed,” he chuckled. “Besides, I’m driving, so that makes me Santa and you the elf.”
by Lokei
PG, not mine, yadda yadda, Happy Holidays!
“So how exactly were you planning to get this thing back to the Baxter, Reed?”
Reed thought there was an unfair amount of amusement in Johnny’s voice. “You didn’t have to come along, you know,” he grumbled, looking at the fourteen foot blue spruce now propped up against the brushed silver of what the media insisted on calling the ‘Fantasticar.’
“I was counting on Sue being here to hold it steady with a force field,” he added.
Johnny grinned and bounced a little on his toes, cheerfully unaffected by the biting upstate-New-York cold in a leather jacket and jeans while Reed was bundled into what felt like seventy five layers of wool and polypropelene. “Such a pity she wanted to go Christmas shopping instead.” Johnny didn’t look like he thought it was a pity at all.
“You know, man, if we can’t get this thing back, Sue’s gonna give us that really annoying ‘I told you so’ look. She wanted to get a tree from the lot down the street.”
Reed flipped a dismissive hand. “They were already losing needles, better to get one fresh,” he said automatically, lost already in the logistics of too little rope, too much tree, and no roof rack.
Johnny snorted. “Well, I can’t carry it back, unless you want a scorched pine tree in the lab.”
“Actually, spruces-which this is, not pine- and most other evergreens are relatively flame-retardant when kept well-watered,” Reed countered, eyes flicking between Johnny, the car, and the tree. He bit his lip and frowned.
“Got it,” he said.
Johnny waited. And waited. “Uh, Reed? Gonna fill the rest of us in on this epiphany? And I don’t mean the one with the three wise men.”
Reed snorted, which Johnny took as a sign that the scientist had actually been hanging around the pilot too long. “Words of four syllables and a Biblical reference, Johnny? Pity Ben’s not here for you to shock.”
Johnny heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Can’t fool you anymore, huh?” He gestured again. “So how are we getting this thing home in our super silver sleigh?”
Reed looked at him expressively. “Just get in the driver’s seat, Johnny.”
“Sure thing, Santa-wait, huh?” The grin on the younger man’s face could be held solely responsible for global warming. “You’re letting me drive?”
Reed sighed without the slightest exaggeration-every ounce of breath was heartfelt. “No offensive flying, please, Johnny. I’m going to be wrapped around the tree to keep it in the backseat and I’d rather not fall off somewhere over the Hudson.”
Johnny’s eyes sparked. “If I fly nice now, will you let me fly it again?”
Reed frowned. “That depends entirely on how many spruce needles I have stuck in uncomfortable places by the time we get home. And if you call me Santa one more time, then no, never.”
Johnny clapped a hand on Reed’s shoulders, noticeably warm even through layers of clothing. “Joys of the Christmas season, Reed,” he chuckled. “Besides, I’m driving, so that makes me Santa and you the elf.”