Fic: I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus
Title: I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Elizabeth, Peter; Neal/Clint established relationship
Spoilers: None
Content Notice: Kid!fic (apologies in advance)
Word Count: 900
Summary: Hannah sees something she ought not to have.
A/N: Future!fic in my Neal/Jones “Undeniable Chemistry” ‘verse. For Day 5 of The Twelve Days of Ficmas.
----
“Hey, Hannah Bear, whatcha doing up here?” Elizabeth said, her voice taking on the sing-song cadence she reserved for dogs and children.
Hannah Caffrey-Jones looked up from the doll she was dressing, her eyes large and bright. “Playing dolls,” she said and looked back down at the one she held in her lap.
“Well, can I play too? It looks like a lot of fun.” Hannah nodded and El took a seat next to her goddaughter on the floor, leaning back against the Dora the Explorer comforter. The child handed El a baby doll, which she took and held awkwardly by its neck.
“Not like that, Lizabeff, like this!” Hannah cradled the doll in her arms and lovingly rocked it, then jammed it into El’s hands roughly. El cuddled the thing as bidden.
“How come you’re up here all alone? We miss you downstairs,” El asked.
The five-year old sighed as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders and shrugged. “I’m sad, Auntie Lizabeff. “
“What? Why?” Hannah merely shook her head, but when she closed her eyes, a tear fell down her cheeks. “Oh, sweetie, come here,” El said and took the child into her arms. She sniffled and hid her face in El’s neck, her bony little knees digging into El’s stomach. At length, Hannah twisted around in El’s arms and leaned her head on her chest, El cradling her as she had been doing to the doll. “You want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“I - I -“ Hannah shook her head and closed her eyes, hiding her face in El’s sweater.
El pushed the thought that the child was rubbing her snotty nose all over her new cashmere sweater aside and focused on the crisis at hand. “You can tell me anything, Hannah Bear.”
“I saw Papa kissing Santa Claus,” Hannah whispered against El’s neck and promptly began crying again.
“What? Oh!” El exclaimed and held her closer, comprehension dawning. Neal had taken to dressing up as Santa for the local community center’s annual toy drive, and that party had been two days earlier. Hannah must have seen her fathers kissing that night, only one of them was not who he seemed to be. “You sure it was your Papa?” El hedged.
Hannah nodded. “He had on the antlers.” El had found a set of joke felt deer antlers, and Clint was a good enough sport to wear them the entire night.
“Oh, well, um, maybe they were just hugging? Your Papa and Santa go way back, you know.”
Hannah pulled back slightly and regarded El seriously. “I know what a kiss looks like, Auntie Lizabeff.”
“Hmm, well…” El wracked her brain.
“Does this mean my daddies are getting a divorce?”
“What?”
“Sammi Cohen’s mommy saw her daddy kissing his secatary, and then they got a divorce! I don’t want a divorce, Lizabeff! They are bad!” Hannah’s tiny chin began to quiver.
“Hannah, that is not going to happen,” El said emphatically. “Your daddies love each other and they are not divorcing.”
“But they was kissing!” Hannah had gone suddenly from upset to angry, and El knew she’d have to shut this down soon to avoid a meltdown.
“I know you saw that, honey, but were they under the mistletoe?”
Hannah looked at her suspiciously. “What’s that?”
“It’s a plant, and people hang it up at Christmas time. And if two people are standing underneath it, they have to kiss each other. Was there mistletoe over Santa and Papa’s heads?”
Hannah’s blue eyes drifted to the right as she sifted through her memories. “What’s it look like?”
“It’s green, with white berries. I’ll bet there was some right there.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, there had to be. And you know, your Papa would have to kiss Santa, because it’s a tradition.”
Hannah’s eyes narrowed as she studied El’s face for signs of deception. Keeping her gaze steady under that scrutiny was one of the hardest things Elizabeth had ever had to do.
“Grandma Myra is always talking about tradition.”
“See? You don’t think Papa would ignore a tradition, do you?”
Hannah sighed, and El could see the thoughts processing behind her eyes. “No, he wouldn’t. But Santa should stay away from mistletoads around people’s Papas.”
“Amen to that!” El leaned forward and kissed Hannah on her neck, making her laugh. “There, feel better?” Hannah nodded. “Then let’s go downstairs and see if we can talk Daddy into singing some Christmas carols.”
“OK!” El got to her feet and Hannah took her by the hand, leading her down the stairs and skipping through the house towards the kitchen, where everyone was gathered.
El felt a tug on her hand and looked down at Hannah. “Yes, sweetie?”
“Auntie Lizabeff - Uncle Peter is under the mistletoad!” El looked over and saw that Hannah’s observation was accurate. But he was not alone.
“And so is Uncle Mozzie!” Hannah said excitedly, jumping up and down. “Kiss him, Uncle Peter, kiss him!”
“What?!” Peter exclaimed, shocked. Moz was merely speechless.
“Do it,” El said, her tone steely, and the two were forced to comply, Peter leaning down and bussing Moz chastely on his cheek.
“Well, that’s next year’s holiday card,” Neal snarked, snapping a picture. “Who needs more nog?”
----
Thank you for your time.
And for your viewing pleasure (pic courtesy of my pal elrhiarhodan, who also provided excellent beta services on this fic):
Next Chapter: Do Me the Honor...
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Elizabeth, Peter; Neal/Clint established relationship
Spoilers: None
Content Notice: Kid!fic (apologies in advance)
Word Count: 900
Summary: Hannah sees something she ought not to have.
A/N: Future!fic in my Neal/Jones “Undeniable Chemistry” ‘verse. For Day 5 of The Twelve Days of Ficmas.
----
“Hey, Hannah Bear, whatcha doing up here?” Elizabeth said, her voice taking on the sing-song cadence she reserved for dogs and children.
Hannah Caffrey-Jones looked up from the doll she was dressing, her eyes large and bright. “Playing dolls,” she said and looked back down at the one she held in her lap.
“Well, can I play too? It looks like a lot of fun.” Hannah nodded and El took a seat next to her goddaughter on the floor, leaning back against the Dora the Explorer comforter. The child handed El a baby doll, which she took and held awkwardly by its neck.
“Not like that, Lizabeff, like this!” Hannah cradled the doll in her arms and lovingly rocked it, then jammed it into El’s hands roughly. El cuddled the thing as bidden.
“How come you’re up here all alone? We miss you downstairs,” El asked.
The five-year old sighed as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders and shrugged. “I’m sad, Auntie Lizabeff. “
“What? Why?” Hannah merely shook her head, but when she closed her eyes, a tear fell down her cheeks. “Oh, sweetie, come here,” El said and took the child into her arms. She sniffled and hid her face in El’s neck, her bony little knees digging into El’s stomach. At length, Hannah twisted around in El’s arms and leaned her head on her chest, El cradling her as she had been doing to the doll. “You want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“I - I -“ Hannah shook her head and closed her eyes, hiding her face in El’s sweater.
El pushed the thought that the child was rubbing her snotty nose all over her new cashmere sweater aside and focused on the crisis at hand. “You can tell me anything, Hannah Bear.”
“I saw Papa kissing Santa Claus,” Hannah whispered against El’s neck and promptly began crying again.
“What? Oh!” El exclaimed and held her closer, comprehension dawning. Neal had taken to dressing up as Santa for the local community center’s annual toy drive, and that party had been two days earlier. Hannah must have seen her fathers kissing that night, only one of them was not who he seemed to be. “You sure it was your Papa?” El hedged.
Hannah nodded. “He had on the antlers.” El had found a set of joke felt deer antlers, and Clint was a good enough sport to wear them the entire night.
“Oh, well, um, maybe they were just hugging? Your Papa and Santa go way back, you know.”
Hannah pulled back slightly and regarded El seriously. “I know what a kiss looks like, Auntie Lizabeff.”
“Hmm, well…” El wracked her brain.
“Does this mean my daddies are getting a divorce?”
“What?”
“Sammi Cohen’s mommy saw her daddy kissing his secatary, and then they got a divorce! I don’t want a divorce, Lizabeff! They are bad!” Hannah’s tiny chin began to quiver.
“Hannah, that is not going to happen,” El said emphatically. “Your daddies love each other and they are not divorcing.”
“But they was kissing!” Hannah had gone suddenly from upset to angry, and El knew she’d have to shut this down soon to avoid a meltdown.
“I know you saw that, honey, but were they under the mistletoe?”
Hannah looked at her suspiciously. “What’s that?”
“It’s a plant, and people hang it up at Christmas time. And if two people are standing underneath it, they have to kiss each other. Was there mistletoe over Santa and Papa’s heads?”
Hannah’s blue eyes drifted to the right as she sifted through her memories. “What’s it look like?”
“It’s green, with white berries. I’ll bet there was some right there.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, there had to be. And you know, your Papa would have to kiss Santa, because it’s a tradition.”
Hannah’s eyes narrowed as she studied El’s face for signs of deception. Keeping her gaze steady under that scrutiny was one of the hardest things Elizabeth had ever had to do.
“Grandma Myra is always talking about tradition.”
“See? You don’t think Papa would ignore a tradition, do you?”
Hannah sighed, and El could see the thoughts processing behind her eyes. “No, he wouldn’t. But Santa should stay away from mistletoads around people’s Papas.”
“Amen to that!” El leaned forward and kissed Hannah on her neck, making her laugh. “There, feel better?” Hannah nodded. “Then let’s go downstairs and see if we can talk Daddy into singing some Christmas carols.”
“OK!” El got to her feet and Hannah took her by the hand, leading her down the stairs and skipping through the house towards the kitchen, where everyone was gathered.
El felt a tug on her hand and looked down at Hannah. “Yes, sweetie?”
“Auntie Lizabeff - Uncle Peter is under the mistletoad!” El looked over and saw that Hannah’s observation was accurate. But he was not alone.
“And so is Uncle Mozzie!” Hannah said excitedly, jumping up and down. “Kiss him, Uncle Peter, kiss him!”
“What?!” Peter exclaimed, shocked. Moz was merely speechless.
“Do it,” El said, her tone steely, and the two were forced to comply, Peter leaning down and bussing Moz chastely on his cheek.
“Well, that’s next year’s holiday card,” Neal snarked, snapping a picture. “Who needs more nog?”
----
Thank you for your time.
And for your viewing pleasure (pic courtesy of my pal elrhiarhodan, who also provided excellent beta services on this fic):
Next Chapter: Do Me the Honor...