Holiday Fic Post #4
More to come later this weekend (I hope)! Keep checking this post!
For saucydiva, who wanted April, Ann, Andy, and Chris shenanigans.
Ann Perkins was walking on her way to the commissary (not for “food,” just coffee - the “food” was often frightening) when she heard an unusually loud wail come from Chris’ office.
Part of her thought she should pretend that she didn’t hear it. On the other hand, Chris had been rather emotional the past couple of weeks and maybe he was having another personal crisis.
Ann peeked in the door window. Chris was sitting at his desk, wearing his headphones. He had his head down and he was weeping. This did not look good.
“Hey, Chris! What’s up?” Ann tried to sound as casual as possible, but every word sounded stilted and highly calculated.
Chris looked at her, tears streaming down his face. “April sent me a link to a video; she said it featured puppies celebrating Christmas and I thought it would be highly enjoyable. Instead, the lovely Anne Hathaway sang the most beautiful, haunting lament that I have ever heard. I found it deeply moving and upsetting.”
Ann didn’t think that April would be a Les Mis fan, but April was a surprising person.
Chris was yowling. If he didn’t stop soon, he would never calm down.
Ann commandeered his keyboard, went to YouTube and typed in “Puppy Christmas.” Chris’ tears of sorrow turned to tears of unadulterated joy.
“There, problem solved! I bet April was watching the movie trailer and sent you the wrong link by mistake.” Ann hated to lie, but this was a desperate situation.
Chris hit the back button and started to watch the puppy video again.
Now that Chris was off the ledge, it was time to deal with April.
*****
On Christmas Day around noon, Ann showed up at the Ludgate-Dwyer residence, movie tickets in hand. She rang the doorbell; it was freezing. Hopefully, they would answer the door.
April opened the door. “Merry Christmas,” she said. There was no joy in her voice; it was completely flat. It was weird.
“Grab Andy and get your coats. We’re going to the movies,” Ann demanded. “I had to console Chris after he watched that trailer and now we’re all going to see Les Mis. He’s waiting in the car.”
“I don’t have to go. I’m Chris’ friend, well, sort of. I was just screwing with him.” April replied.
“Well, he didn’t know that; he was absolutely hysterical. You get the pleasure of calming him down after he has an emotional breakdown.”
“We’re not going anywhere.”
Ann pushed her way into the house. “Hey Andy, I’m taking you guys to the movies! My treat. Let’s go!”
“Free movie tickets?” Andy screamed. “Come on babe, let’s get going! I’ll grab the candy stash!” He slipped on a pile of wrapping paper debris on the floor, got up, and ran to the kitchen.
Ann smiled. She was going to win this round.
*****
The sight of Chris crying on April’s shoulder throughout the entire movie was quite gratifying. Andy watched intently; he later expressed a desire to write his own musical about dogs (“If cats have a musical, dogs should have one too because dogs are freakin’ awesome”).
April looked like she had been tortured. Her eyes glassed over. Her shirt was covered in tearstains. She looked slightly remorseful.
During the credits, Ann leaned over and whispered in April’s ear. “If you screw with people around the holidays, bad things happen to you. Merry Christmas.”
Ann enjoyed the movie, but April getting her comeuppance was the icing on the cake.
For stiffleaves, who requested "Jen Barkley whatever fic." So, I wrote a Jen Barkley Christmas Carol. Thanks to saucydiva for the beta.
On Christmas Eve, Jen Barkley sits in her posh corner office. She is reading poll data; she has a report due to a prospective candidate next week and she hasn’t had time to work on the data analysis. Normally, Jen would have her interns read the data but they have all gone home for Christmas. Stupid holidays getting in the way of productivity.
Jen’s eyes glass over as she reads the latest figures from Wyoming. It’s still a solid red state, clinging to its guns and religion. She blows a piece of hair out of her face. Why is she doing this? Does anyone who fucking matters live in Wyoming? No. God, she wishes an intern could get her a cup of coffee.
It’s at least 10 PM. The stars are twinkling and the city is dead. Giving into temptation, Jen moves to the couch in the break room, grabs a blanket, and drifts off to sleep.
*****
Jen wakes up to the sound of rattling chains. Maybe she could call security; wait, security probably isn’t around. Maybe she should go home. She’s just about to climb out of her makeshift bed when she sees a ghostly figure looming nearby.
“Jenny? It’s your Grandfather!” the ghost cries out.
Jen rubs her eyes. “What the hell? Grandpa Winston?”
“I’ve been watching you from the heavens and I’m concerned by your behavior. I don’t want you to turn into a workaholic, like I did.” The ghost tries to pat Jen on the shoulder, but his hand goes straight through her.
Jen screams.
“Shh! It’s all right. We’re just going on a little trip to look at your past, present, and future.”
“Tell me something that proves I’m not hallucinating,” Jen retorts.
“I’m your grandfather. You were a humongous baby and you used to slobber all over my silk shirts,” he remarks.
“That’s true; you held that against me for a long time.”
“Even in the afterlife, I cannot forgive that offense. I’ve got some stuff to show you, so get off your ass and let’s get moving.”
Jen stammers a bit.
“Look, if you are going to be hostile, two can play that game,” Grandpa Winston remarks.
Jen stands up and dusts off her blazer. “Okay, fine. It’s not like I’m doing anything else.”
*****
They zoom back in time to a mall, several decades ago. Eight-year-old Jenny Barkley is waiting in line to meet Santa Claus. She’s not alone; her mother and little brother, Aaron, are also present.
Grandpa Winston pulls out an ethereal remote. “For the sake of expediency, let’s fast forward to the good part.”
Jenny sits on Santa’s lap. “What do you want for Christmas, little girl?” Santa smiles at her; young Jenny is deadly serious.
“I want a flute.”
“Oh, do you like music?”
“Not really. I need to start practicing so I can round out my extracurricular for college applications. I’ve heard that musicians have a better chance at getting into the Ivy League.”
Santa looks befuddled. “Don’t you want something fun, like an Easy Bake Oven?”
“Like anyone wants a toy oven. Way to enforce gender roles, mall Santa,” Jen says to no one in particular.
Jenny huffs. “No! I want to start planning for my career.”
“I was a happy kid; you don’t have to frolic in the snow or bake crappy cakes to have fun. I don’t understand why we’re here,” Jen tells the ghost.
“Everything you do is related to work. I remember when you played the flute; you were fantastic. But did you have any fun doing it?”
“No. It was a means to an end.”
Grandpa Winston smiles at Jen. “That’s the problem.”
*****
They zoom to the next scene, outside of Chris Traeger’s condo in Pawnee, Indiana. “Ugh, I thought I would never have to go to Pawnee again. They don’t even have a decent dry cleaners,” Jen scoffs. It’s snowing and it would be pretty if Pawnee weren’t so ugly and dirty.
“Take a look in the window,” Grandpa Winston says.
Jen peers into the window, only to see Chris sitting alone in front of the television. He’s watching It’s A Wonderful Life and weeping profusely.
“Where is everyone? Why isn’t he in Wisconsin with his family?” Jen asks.
“Chris invited his family to visit him, but their flight got cancelled due to bad weather. And now he’s alone on Christmas Eve.”
“Well, that sucks. He’s a nice person. Real weirdo when it comes to food; he eats like a freakin’ squirrel.”
“He really cares about you. When you cut him out of your life, he ended up in a dark place. He ate a whole tin of Christmas cookies.”
As Chris sniffles into a tissue, Jen feels slightly remorseful. She knows Chris’s current situation is not her fault, but the end of their fling was kind of abrupt.
Jen yawns into her hand. “I’m super tired, let’s move on.”
*****
They jump a few years into the future and end up in front of a modest suburban colonial. Jen looks in the window and sees her brother, his wife, and two giddy children. They must be her nieces. Jen’s father proudly places a roast on the table; her mother leads the family in grace. It is the perfect holiday scene; it looks like an Andy Warhol painting.
“Isn’t that nice,” Grandpa Winston remarks. “A close knit family sharing a Christmas meal.”
“That’s all fine and dandy, but where am I?” Jen screeches.
“You’re at the office. Aaron called to invite you and you turned him down. One of your clients had a sex scandal and you went to go help with damage control.”
Jen can’t stop staring in the window. God, that roast looks delicious.
“Jen, even if you were in town, would you be there? Could you give up on work for just one day?”
“Those little girls who don’t exist yet are going to grow up without me,” Jen says.
Grandpa Winston beckons Jen away from the scene. “You’ve seen enough. Let’s go home.”
*****
They return to the break room and Jen flops down on the couch. “What can I do? I’ve fucked up big time. I need a drink.”
“It’s not too late to have a Christmas miracle. It’s never too late. Don’t be the jackass who works on Christmas Day.” Grandpa Winston fades into the ether. Great, now she’s alone.
Jen grabs her coat and purse and runs downstairs to hail a cab. The streets are deserted and it doesn’t take long to end up at her brother’s house in Arlington.
Her mother answers the door. “Jen! We weren’t expecting you. It’s the middle of the night!”
“I had a bit of a wake up call. I hope I’m not intruding,” Jen says sheepishly.
“You could never be an intruder; you’re family. Come on in, I’ll find out where Cecilia stores the sheets and we can set up the pull out couch. You must be exhausted.”
“You have no idea.”
*****
The next day, Jen receives a bunch of gifts, even though she doesn’t have any to give in return. Apparently, her family bought stuff just in case she decided to show up. The love in the room is palpable and it feels nice. It’s a little weird how much she likes being with her family on Christmas.
She fires off a quick text to Chris Traeger. She doesn’t know what will come of it, but she hopes that he will realize that he is not alone.
It takes some effort to not check her work email or read the news, but Christmas only comes once a year. The messages from her clients will be waiting for her tomorrow.
Today, she is going to gorge herself on eggnog and roast beef.
For saucydiva, who wanted April, Ann, Andy, and Chris shenanigans.
Ann Perkins was walking on her way to the commissary (not for “food,” just coffee - the “food” was often frightening) when she heard an unusually loud wail come from Chris’ office.
Part of her thought she should pretend that she didn’t hear it. On the other hand, Chris had been rather emotional the past couple of weeks and maybe he was having another personal crisis.
Ann peeked in the door window. Chris was sitting at his desk, wearing his headphones. He had his head down and he was weeping. This did not look good.
“Hey, Chris! What’s up?” Ann tried to sound as casual as possible, but every word sounded stilted and highly calculated.
Chris looked at her, tears streaming down his face. “April sent me a link to a video; she said it featured puppies celebrating Christmas and I thought it would be highly enjoyable. Instead, the lovely Anne Hathaway sang the most beautiful, haunting lament that I have ever heard. I found it deeply moving and upsetting.”
Ann didn’t think that April would be a Les Mis fan, but April was a surprising person.
Chris was yowling. If he didn’t stop soon, he would never calm down.
Ann commandeered his keyboard, went to YouTube and typed in “Puppy Christmas.” Chris’ tears of sorrow turned to tears of unadulterated joy.
“There, problem solved! I bet April was watching the movie trailer and sent you the wrong link by mistake.” Ann hated to lie, but this was a desperate situation.
Chris hit the back button and started to watch the puppy video again.
Now that Chris was off the ledge, it was time to deal with April.
*****
On Christmas Day around noon, Ann showed up at the Ludgate-Dwyer residence, movie tickets in hand. She rang the doorbell; it was freezing. Hopefully, they would answer the door.
April opened the door. “Merry Christmas,” she said. There was no joy in her voice; it was completely flat. It was weird.
“Grab Andy and get your coats. We’re going to the movies,” Ann demanded. “I had to console Chris after he watched that trailer and now we’re all going to see Les Mis. He’s waiting in the car.”
“I don’t have to go. I’m Chris’ friend, well, sort of. I was just screwing with him.” April replied.
“Well, he didn’t know that; he was absolutely hysterical. You get the pleasure of calming him down after he has an emotional breakdown.”
“We’re not going anywhere.”
Ann pushed her way into the house. “Hey Andy, I’m taking you guys to the movies! My treat. Let’s go!”
“Free movie tickets?” Andy screamed. “Come on babe, let’s get going! I’ll grab the candy stash!” He slipped on a pile of wrapping paper debris on the floor, got up, and ran to the kitchen.
Ann smiled. She was going to win this round.
*****
The sight of Chris crying on April’s shoulder throughout the entire movie was quite gratifying. Andy watched intently; he later expressed a desire to write his own musical about dogs (“If cats have a musical, dogs should have one too because dogs are freakin’ awesome”).
April looked like she had been tortured. Her eyes glassed over. Her shirt was covered in tearstains. She looked slightly remorseful.
During the credits, Ann leaned over and whispered in April’s ear. “If you screw with people around the holidays, bad things happen to you. Merry Christmas.”
Ann enjoyed the movie, but April getting her comeuppance was the icing on the cake.
For stiffleaves, who requested "Jen Barkley whatever fic." So, I wrote a Jen Barkley Christmas Carol. Thanks to saucydiva for the beta.
On Christmas Eve, Jen Barkley sits in her posh corner office. She is reading poll data; she has a report due to a prospective candidate next week and she hasn’t had time to work on the data analysis. Normally, Jen would have her interns read the data but they have all gone home for Christmas. Stupid holidays getting in the way of productivity.
Jen’s eyes glass over as she reads the latest figures from Wyoming. It’s still a solid red state, clinging to its guns and religion. She blows a piece of hair out of her face. Why is she doing this? Does anyone who fucking matters live in Wyoming? No. God, she wishes an intern could get her a cup of coffee.
It’s at least 10 PM. The stars are twinkling and the city is dead. Giving into temptation, Jen moves to the couch in the break room, grabs a blanket, and drifts off to sleep.
*****
Jen wakes up to the sound of rattling chains. Maybe she could call security; wait, security probably isn’t around. Maybe she should go home. She’s just about to climb out of her makeshift bed when she sees a ghostly figure looming nearby.
“Jenny? It’s your Grandfather!” the ghost cries out.
Jen rubs her eyes. “What the hell? Grandpa Winston?”
“I’ve been watching you from the heavens and I’m concerned by your behavior. I don’t want you to turn into a workaholic, like I did.” The ghost tries to pat Jen on the shoulder, but his hand goes straight through her.
Jen screams.
“Shh! It’s all right. We’re just going on a little trip to look at your past, present, and future.”
“Tell me something that proves I’m not hallucinating,” Jen retorts.
“I’m your grandfather. You were a humongous baby and you used to slobber all over my silk shirts,” he remarks.
“That’s true; you held that against me for a long time.”
“Even in the afterlife, I cannot forgive that offense. I’ve got some stuff to show you, so get off your ass and let’s get moving.”
Jen stammers a bit.
“Look, if you are going to be hostile, two can play that game,” Grandpa Winston remarks.
Jen stands up and dusts off her blazer. “Okay, fine. It’s not like I’m doing anything else.”
*****
They zoom back in time to a mall, several decades ago. Eight-year-old Jenny Barkley is waiting in line to meet Santa Claus. She’s not alone; her mother and little brother, Aaron, are also present.
Grandpa Winston pulls out an ethereal remote. “For the sake of expediency, let’s fast forward to the good part.”
Jenny sits on Santa’s lap. “What do you want for Christmas, little girl?” Santa smiles at her; young Jenny is deadly serious.
“I want a flute.”
“Oh, do you like music?”
“Not really. I need to start practicing so I can round out my extracurricular for college applications. I’ve heard that musicians have a better chance at getting into the Ivy League.”
Santa looks befuddled. “Don’t you want something fun, like an Easy Bake Oven?”
“Like anyone wants a toy oven. Way to enforce gender roles, mall Santa,” Jen says to no one in particular.
Jenny huffs. “No! I want to start planning for my career.”
“I was a happy kid; you don’t have to frolic in the snow or bake crappy cakes to have fun. I don’t understand why we’re here,” Jen tells the ghost.
“Everything you do is related to work. I remember when you played the flute; you were fantastic. But did you have any fun doing it?”
“No. It was a means to an end.”
Grandpa Winston smiles at Jen. “That’s the problem.”
*****
They zoom to the next scene, outside of Chris Traeger’s condo in Pawnee, Indiana. “Ugh, I thought I would never have to go to Pawnee again. They don’t even have a decent dry cleaners,” Jen scoffs. It’s snowing and it would be pretty if Pawnee weren’t so ugly and dirty.
“Take a look in the window,” Grandpa Winston says.
Jen peers into the window, only to see Chris sitting alone in front of the television. He’s watching It’s A Wonderful Life and weeping profusely.
“Where is everyone? Why isn’t he in Wisconsin with his family?” Jen asks.
“Chris invited his family to visit him, but their flight got cancelled due to bad weather. And now he’s alone on Christmas Eve.”
“Well, that sucks. He’s a nice person. Real weirdo when it comes to food; he eats like a freakin’ squirrel.”
“He really cares about you. When you cut him out of your life, he ended up in a dark place. He ate a whole tin of Christmas cookies.”
As Chris sniffles into a tissue, Jen feels slightly remorseful. She knows Chris’s current situation is not her fault, but the end of their fling was kind of abrupt.
Jen yawns into her hand. “I’m super tired, let’s move on.”
*****
They jump a few years into the future and end up in front of a modest suburban colonial. Jen looks in the window and sees her brother, his wife, and two giddy children. They must be her nieces. Jen’s father proudly places a roast on the table; her mother leads the family in grace. It is the perfect holiday scene; it looks like an Andy Warhol painting.
“Isn’t that nice,” Grandpa Winston remarks. “A close knit family sharing a Christmas meal.”
“That’s all fine and dandy, but where am I?” Jen screeches.
“You’re at the office. Aaron called to invite you and you turned him down. One of your clients had a sex scandal and you went to go help with damage control.”
Jen can’t stop staring in the window. God, that roast looks delicious.
“Jen, even if you were in town, would you be there? Could you give up on work for just one day?”
“Those little girls who don’t exist yet are going to grow up without me,” Jen says.
Grandpa Winston beckons Jen away from the scene. “You’ve seen enough. Let’s go home.”
*****
They return to the break room and Jen flops down on the couch. “What can I do? I’ve fucked up big time. I need a drink.”
“It’s not too late to have a Christmas miracle. It’s never too late. Don’t be the jackass who works on Christmas Day.” Grandpa Winston fades into the ether. Great, now she’s alone.
Jen grabs her coat and purse and runs downstairs to hail a cab. The streets are deserted and it doesn’t take long to end up at her brother’s house in Arlington.
Her mother answers the door. “Jen! We weren’t expecting you. It’s the middle of the night!”
“I had a bit of a wake up call. I hope I’m not intruding,” Jen says sheepishly.
“You could never be an intruder; you’re family. Come on in, I’ll find out where Cecilia stores the sheets and we can set up the pull out couch. You must be exhausted.”
“You have no idea.”
*****
The next day, Jen receives a bunch of gifts, even though she doesn’t have any to give in return. Apparently, her family bought stuff just in case she decided to show up. The love in the room is palpable and it feels nice. It’s a little weird how much she likes being with her family on Christmas.
She fires off a quick text to Chris Traeger. She doesn’t know what will come of it, but she hopes that he will realize that he is not alone.
It takes some effort to not check her work email or read the news, but Christmas only comes once a year. The messages from her clients will be waiting for her tomorrow.
Today, she is going to gorge herself on eggnog and roast beef.