Winter Advent 2011 - Day 17
adventchallenge Day: 17
Title: Santa Claus {and other lies}
Fandom: none
Pairing: Archie/Wren
Rated: PG-13 Words: 1643
Warning/s: occasional swearing
Summary: Wren wants to perpetuate the innocent lie of Santa Claus so their daughter can enjoy Christmas like other children. Archie begs to differ, believing none of the lies they tell Jewel are ‘innocent’
Archie paced the room with his six-month old daughter safely cradled in the crook of one arm. “No god, Santa, Easter bunny, tooth fairy, great pumpkin or any of that shit,” he insisted.
“Don’t swear,” his wife said with frustration.
Steph watched and waited, hoping it wouldn’t escalate like so many of their arguments. Her god-daughter was at the heart of this dispute.
“Jewel’s asleep,” Archie admitted, tenderly touching the baby’s chin with the tip of his pinkie finger.
“So put her in the cot while you talk about this,” Steph suggested.
“No.” Who knew when he’d get to hold her again? It seemed Jewel spent most of her time on the tit or asleep when Archie wasn’t at work. He hoped it was coincidence, but secretly believed Wren somehow timed it that way. His wife had been happy to let him cuddle Jewel for hours soon after she was born. Within three weeks something changed, as though Wren suddenly remembered he was a selfish prick with daddy-issues while completely forgetting how much effort he was putting into providing a secure home for her and Jewel. Archie lifted the sleeping treasure and bent his head to kiss Jewel’s cheek without waking her. He watched her face crinkle like a walnut as she farted in her sleep. “Charming Princess, thanks.” He wrinkled his nose at the stench wafting from her backside but kissed her again before lowering his arm.
Steph smiled proudly at him. Her twin girls were eight and Archie had doted on them when they were bubs, still did. When they became friends in high school he’d craved fatherhood and Steph often wished Luna and Star had a father like him. Wren needed to forget what she’d lost when Cheng died and recognise what she’d gained by marrying Archie, lucky cow. He was determined to prove he could do this, partially to spite his horrific upbringing, mostly to make what he’d lost worth it. He was doing alright at this daddy gig so far. Steph wanted both her friends to succeed as parents and be happy, but she felt Archie deserved it more.
“We already lie to her too much, Wren. We don’t need to borrow any from popular culture.” Archie stopped pacing and rocked side to side to the rhythm of his heartbeat like his mother taught him the first time Steph brought her babies to visit. He still remembered how it felt that first time Luna snuggled against him. That a life so innocent trusted him to keep her safe made his sixteen-year old self wish he was someone decent instead of walking, breathing excrement. “It’s devastating to hear Santa isn’t real,” he admitted quietly. So much of his life was shit. Jewel deserved better than that, right off the bat.
“The way you found out might have something to do with that,” Wren suggested sympathetically. Cheng and Archie had been best friends since they were ten. Wren and Cheng began dating at sixteen and she knew more about her husband’s past than he thought she did.
“That’s irrelevant,” Archie insisted. “Children don’t like finding out Santa’s bollocks. How ticked will Jewel be when she learns ‘Daddy’ isn’t real, either?”
“You’re not worried that Jewel will be upset, only that she’ll be disappointed in you!” Wren continued in an increasingly bitter mumble that the others couldn’t hear.
Archie could see where this was headed and decided to put Jewel in her cot before shit flew. The cot was in his room when he wasn’t working nights to give Wren a break from night feeds and nappy changes. The married couple only shared a room when Wren’s family visited since Jewel was born. “I’m not going to be here long enough for you to need to know the truth about anything, am I Princess?” he asked sadly as he placed Jewel on her side. He took his time tucking small foam wedges in front and behind to stop her rolling onto her front or back and asphyxiating, suffocating, whatever the fuck Wren’s women’s magazines thought caused Sudden Infant Death Syndrome this week. “Mummy and Daddy might be playing pretend at being married, but we’re not pretending to love you.” Archie carefully arranged the sheet and blankets around Jewel then kissed her face again.
Steph observed from his bedroom door while Wren made herself a pot of blended herbal tea. “A kiss on the cheek or occasional cuddle would help Wren cope with her baby blues,” Steph suggested.
Archie pulled a face. “Getting my partner back would help me with mine.”
“Rhett dealt with a lot of crap to be with you. You expected too much of him…”
“I didn’t expect him to assume Wren’s baby was mine! He’s smarter than that, Steph. I’m the poof. Rhett knew I hated leaving him behind when the band went on tour in case he found a woman to set him straight…!” Archie stopped talking. Rhett left him three-hundred and sixty nine days ago - on December 13, 1982 - and it didn’t hurt any less. It may as well have happened an hour ago. Archie hit rock bottom the night he married Wren and couldn’t afford to fall again.
“None of us were smart enough to realise Wren was pregnant when Cheng died,” Steph pointed out mildly. Bub’s birthdate made her suspect, but until now she had no direct proof and so kept her mouth shut. Archie and his bloody misplaced loyalties! “Keeping that secret from your friends is a mistake you both continue to make, but telling Jewel everything won’t necessarily atone for that. It could be a bigger one.”
Archie’s finger stroked Jewel’s soft cheek. “She already has every reason to hate me, Steph. I know I don’t deserve this…”
“Oi, that’s one of my best friends you’re insulting. Yes you’re a dumbarse, who isn’t? My girls think I’m their big sister, remember? You love that little girl, Archie. Even a tit like me can see that. Wren knows it and sometimes I guess it makes her hate you for not being Cheng. Personally, if either you or Jonathon offered to fake marry me years ago and pretend to be Luna and Star’s father? I’d be an incredibly happy camper. But I’ve got Joel now, so you both miss out.”
Archie grinned at Steph and she couldn’t help thinking that in many ways he’s still a little boy hoping someone will keep him safe from the evil cock-cheese man. She wished he’d trusted Rhett with the truth about Wren and that Rhett had trusted Archie’s love for him. Archie believed in things like hope and Christmas while they were together, and Rhett would know what to say.
“Most of us say we won’t perpetuate the Santa-type myths with our children, until we become parents, and then we do. They give us excuses to demonstrate our love for them after telling them off for not flushing the toilet, or for wiping boogers on the wall. Don’t forget Archie, your mother tried to bring those fun childhood fantasies to life for you despite your father’s ...”
Steph stuffed up there because Archie frowned and turned away from her.
“Guilt-the prevalent Christmas emotion,” he scoffed.
Steph made a rude noise and poked her tongue out when he looked up. “We say ‘be good so I can tell Santa how proud I am of you and he’ll bring you something special’ and they want to be good because they want us to brag about our love for them. They don’t care who to. So be Santa, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy and-what was that other one you made up?”
“The Great Pumpkin, from that comic strip with Snoopy in it. Don’t look at me like that.” Archie hated that shrewdly saucy expression Steph got when she figured out where various nicknames he and Rhett used for each other came from. They only referred to each other as Snoopy and Woodstock during sex so Steph shouldn’t know about those.
“Fair enough, Woodstock.”
“Cow.”
“Moo.”
“Typical bloody woman. Get to the point Steph and go home.”
“Jewel will see the effort you put in and the love behind these fantasy characters. Then she’ll believe Daddy is real.”
“Am I, though?” Archie hated the weakness apparent in his voice and body language. Knowing Steph didn’t see his uncertainty as pathetic stopped him from hiding it. She wouldn’t bullshit about something as important as this.
“Sperm makes a baby, not a parent. You are a real parent, Pinocchio - and if Rhett called you that during sex then I never want to know about it.”
“Not even…?” Archie teased.
“Bah!” Steph put a finger in each ear and said “la-la-la, I can’t hear you” all the way to the kitchen.
Wren looked exhausted, emotionally too. Archie felt guilty. “Sorry for being a grumpy tit,” he said sincerely.
Wren shrugged.
Archie suggested taking Wren and Jewel into the CBD on his day off. “If you want photos of Jewel with Santa for her first Christmas while we’re there…” he added.
“Yes, please.” Wren’s smile was small, yet grateful and Archie apologised again. Jewel was her baby, not his. It wasn’t fair to let his prejudices stop Wren doing fun things with and for Jewel. The residual anger left Wren’s posture and she began planning the day with enthusiasm-starting with Jewel’s outfit. “We’d better keep three extra outfits in the car in case of vomit, poop, or other dramas…”
Archie let her crap on about clothes, presents, decorations and other stuff he thought was pointless until she finally yawned and happily kissed her sleeping baby goodnight before going to bed.
“This Christmas bollocks stops once Jewel figures out the truth, yeah?” Archie asked Steph in a low voice.
Steph patted his cheek with a smirk then went home. Her work here was done.
Title: Santa Claus {and other lies}
Fandom: none
Pairing: Archie/Wren
Rated: PG-13 Words: 1643
Warning/s: occasional swearing
Summary: Wren wants to perpetuate the innocent lie of Santa Claus so their daughter can enjoy Christmas like other children. Archie begs to differ, believing none of the lies they tell Jewel are ‘innocent’
Archie paced the room with his six-month old daughter safely cradled in the crook of one arm. “No god, Santa, Easter bunny, tooth fairy, great pumpkin or any of that shit,” he insisted.
“Don’t swear,” his wife said with frustration.
Steph watched and waited, hoping it wouldn’t escalate like so many of their arguments. Her god-daughter was at the heart of this dispute.
“Jewel’s asleep,” Archie admitted, tenderly touching the baby’s chin with the tip of his pinkie finger.
“So put her in the cot while you talk about this,” Steph suggested.
“No.” Who knew when he’d get to hold her again? It seemed Jewel spent most of her time on the tit or asleep when Archie wasn’t at work. He hoped it was coincidence, but secretly believed Wren somehow timed it that way. His wife had been happy to let him cuddle Jewel for hours soon after she was born. Within three weeks something changed, as though Wren suddenly remembered he was a selfish prick with daddy-issues while completely forgetting how much effort he was putting into providing a secure home for her and Jewel. Archie lifted the sleeping treasure and bent his head to kiss Jewel’s cheek without waking her. He watched her face crinkle like a walnut as she farted in her sleep. “Charming Princess, thanks.” He wrinkled his nose at the stench wafting from her backside but kissed her again before lowering his arm.
Steph smiled proudly at him. Her twin girls were eight and Archie had doted on them when they were bubs, still did. When they became friends in high school he’d craved fatherhood and Steph often wished Luna and Star had a father like him. Wren needed to forget what she’d lost when Cheng died and recognise what she’d gained by marrying Archie, lucky cow. He was determined to prove he could do this, partially to spite his horrific upbringing, mostly to make what he’d lost worth it. He was doing alright at this daddy gig so far. Steph wanted both her friends to succeed as parents and be happy, but she felt Archie deserved it more.
“We already lie to her too much, Wren. We don’t need to borrow any from popular culture.” Archie stopped pacing and rocked side to side to the rhythm of his heartbeat like his mother taught him the first time Steph brought her babies to visit. He still remembered how it felt that first time Luna snuggled against him. That a life so innocent trusted him to keep her safe made his sixteen-year old self wish he was someone decent instead of walking, breathing excrement. “It’s devastating to hear Santa isn’t real,” he admitted quietly. So much of his life was shit. Jewel deserved better than that, right off the bat.
“The way you found out might have something to do with that,” Wren suggested sympathetically. Cheng and Archie had been best friends since they were ten. Wren and Cheng began dating at sixteen and she knew more about her husband’s past than he thought she did.
“That’s irrelevant,” Archie insisted. “Children don’t like finding out Santa’s bollocks. How ticked will Jewel be when she learns ‘Daddy’ isn’t real, either?”
“You’re not worried that Jewel will be upset, only that she’ll be disappointed in you!” Wren continued in an increasingly bitter mumble that the others couldn’t hear.
Archie could see where this was headed and decided to put Jewel in her cot before shit flew. The cot was in his room when he wasn’t working nights to give Wren a break from night feeds and nappy changes. The married couple only shared a room when Wren’s family visited since Jewel was born. “I’m not going to be here long enough for you to need to know the truth about anything, am I Princess?” he asked sadly as he placed Jewel on her side. He took his time tucking small foam wedges in front and behind to stop her rolling onto her front or back and asphyxiating, suffocating, whatever the fuck Wren’s women’s magazines thought caused Sudden Infant Death Syndrome this week. “Mummy and Daddy might be playing pretend at being married, but we’re not pretending to love you.” Archie carefully arranged the sheet and blankets around Jewel then kissed her face again.
Steph observed from his bedroom door while Wren made herself a pot of blended herbal tea. “A kiss on the cheek or occasional cuddle would help Wren cope with her baby blues,” Steph suggested.
Archie pulled a face. “Getting my partner back would help me with mine.”
“Rhett dealt with a lot of crap to be with you. You expected too much of him…”
“I didn’t expect him to assume Wren’s baby was mine! He’s smarter than that, Steph. I’m the poof. Rhett knew I hated leaving him behind when the band went on tour in case he found a woman to set him straight…!” Archie stopped talking. Rhett left him three-hundred and sixty nine days ago - on December 13, 1982 - and it didn’t hurt any less. It may as well have happened an hour ago. Archie hit rock bottom the night he married Wren and couldn’t afford to fall again.
“None of us were smart enough to realise Wren was pregnant when Cheng died,” Steph pointed out mildly. Bub’s birthdate made her suspect, but until now she had no direct proof and so kept her mouth shut. Archie and his bloody misplaced loyalties! “Keeping that secret from your friends is a mistake you both continue to make, but telling Jewel everything won’t necessarily atone for that. It could be a bigger one.”
Archie’s finger stroked Jewel’s soft cheek. “She already has every reason to hate me, Steph. I know I don’t deserve this…”
“Oi, that’s one of my best friends you’re insulting. Yes you’re a dumbarse, who isn’t? My girls think I’m their big sister, remember? You love that little girl, Archie. Even a tit like me can see that. Wren knows it and sometimes I guess it makes her hate you for not being Cheng. Personally, if either you or Jonathon offered to fake marry me years ago and pretend to be Luna and Star’s father? I’d be an incredibly happy camper. But I’ve got Joel now, so you both miss out.”
Archie grinned at Steph and she couldn’t help thinking that in many ways he’s still a little boy hoping someone will keep him safe from the evil cock-cheese man. She wished he’d trusted Rhett with the truth about Wren and that Rhett had trusted Archie’s love for him. Archie believed in things like hope and Christmas while they were together, and Rhett would know what to say.
“Most of us say we won’t perpetuate the Santa-type myths with our children, until we become parents, and then we do. They give us excuses to demonstrate our love for them after telling them off for not flushing the toilet, or for wiping boogers on the wall. Don’t forget Archie, your mother tried to bring those fun childhood fantasies to life for you despite your father’s ...”
Steph stuffed up there because Archie frowned and turned away from her.
“Guilt-the prevalent Christmas emotion,” he scoffed.
Steph made a rude noise and poked her tongue out when he looked up. “We say ‘be good so I can tell Santa how proud I am of you and he’ll bring you something special’ and they want to be good because they want us to brag about our love for them. They don’t care who to. So be Santa, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy and-what was that other one you made up?”
“The Great Pumpkin, from that comic strip with Snoopy in it. Don’t look at me like that.” Archie hated that shrewdly saucy expression Steph got when she figured out where various nicknames he and Rhett used for each other came from. They only referred to each other as Snoopy and Woodstock during sex so Steph shouldn’t know about those.
“Fair enough, Woodstock.”
“Cow.”
“Moo.”
“Typical bloody woman. Get to the point Steph and go home.”
“Jewel will see the effort you put in and the love behind these fantasy characters. Then she’ll believe Daddy is real.”
“Am I, though?” Archie hated the weakness apparent in his voice and body language. Knowing Steph didn’t see his uncertainty as pathetic stopped him from hiding it. She wouldn’t bullshit about something as important as this.
“Sperm makes a baby, not a parent. You are a real parent, Pinocchio - and if Rhett called you that during sex then I never want to know about it.”
“Not even…?” Archie teased.
“Bah!” Steph put a finger in each ear and said “la-la-la, I can’t hear you” all the way to the kitchen.
Wren looked exhausted, emotionally too. Archie felt guilty. “Sorry for being a grumpy tit,” he said sincerely.
Wren shrugged.
Archie suggested taking Wren and Jewel into the CBD on his day off. “If you want photos of Jewel with Santa for her first Christmas while we’re there…” he added.
“Yes, please.” Wren’s smile was small, yet grateful and Archie apologised again. Jewel was her baby, not his. It wasn’t fair to let his prejudices stop Wren doing fun things with and for Jewel. The residual anger left Wren’s posture and she began planning the day with enthusiasm-starting with Jewel’s outfit. “We’d better keep three extra outfits in the car in case of vomit, poop, or other dramas…”
Archie let her crap on about clothes, presents, decorations and other stuff he thought was pointless until she finally yawned and happily kissed her sleeping baby goodnight before going to bed.
“This Christmas bollocks stops once Jewel figures out the truth, yeah?” Archie asked Steph in a low voice.
Steph patted his cheek with a smirk then went home. Her work here was done.