|
|
Post by Evangeline Irvine on Sept 18, 2010 23:54:06 GMT -5
--Earth--
24th December, 2459
There was a knock at the door, and almost instantly Ciara materialized next to it, jerking it open and throwing her arms around the man's neck. "Happy Christmas, Mark!" she crowed, pulling back to beam at him. Marcus laughed at her exuberance, slinging one arm around her waist to return the hug before grabbing his bag and stepping inside out of the cold.
"So did you bring them?" she demanded, practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. Jerk that he was, he deliberately took his time about removing his boots, parka, scarf, gloves and hat, but finally he turned to her. He was clearly trying to keep a straight face, but her puppy-dog pout prevailed and almost instantly he grinned at her.
"'Course I brought 'em, Cici. They're in my bag."
With a joyful squeal, Ciara snatched up his bag and raced into the living-room, where her thirteen-year-old sister, Lily, and her father, Ryan, were busy putting the last few presents under the tree. She smirked a little when her father and Mark exchanged respectful nods, pushing the latter's arm playfully when he came to stand next to her before ripping the his bag's zipper open and reaching in. Seconds later she was grinning broadly at what she had unearthed.
For almost fifteen years now, she and Marcus had had a Christmas tradition--each year after they'd finished eating Christmas Dinner with their own family, they'd go to one or the other of their houses to sleep over (although as they spent most of the night watching movies, there was little actual sleep involved).
Then, whichever of them woke up first would wake the other, and they'd go and open their presents. And for the rest of the day, they'd wear red sweaters and Santa hats. This year, it had been his turn to supply them, and he hadn't disappointed. "Oh, Mark, you're the best!" she giggled, throwing her arms around him again.
He chortled, taking his own sweater and hat from her, shoving them back into his bag. "So where am I sleeping?" he asked politely, though he already knew the answer.
"My room, silly! Come on, I have your bed set up and everything!"
Snatching his wrist, she then turned and raced out to the stairs, thundering up them and down the hall toward her bedroom. On the floor next to her bed, she'd laid out the futon, covering it in multiple blankets and pillows. "You really didn't hold back, did you?" Mark laughed, kicking the fluorescent pink blanket and purple pillow cases.
"It was the best I could find," Ciara said laxly, shrugging and she wandered over to her closet to pull out some pyjamas. "It's this or that ratty old indigo blanket that you brought over after your dog attacked it."
"You still have that thing?" he asked, sound mildly surprised as he rooted through his bag for his own PJs.
"My mom says if nothing else she wants to salvage some of the fabric a a memoir."
His chuckling faded away as he went into her bathroom to change. She hastily did so herself and began searching for her dressing-gown. She'd just found it hiding under her desk when Mark re-emerged, tossing his bag onto the futon and smiling at her. "What are we going to watch?" he asked, waiting by the door as she pulled her slippers out from under her bed.
"I was thinking a classic," she admitted, coming over and following him out into the hall, back downstairs, "Like, a classic, classic. You know, like, A Christmas Carol, or A White Christmas. Or maybe It's a Wonderful Life."
"I could go for A White Christmas," Mark said after a moment's consideration, "Haven't seen that in a while."
Ciara clapped and grinned again, skipping passed him and down the stairs. "A White Christmas it is, then! I love that one. The sister's act always makes me laugh. Especially when Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye did it." Her father and Lily must have followed them upstairs, because they were no longer in the living-room when they arrived.
Her mother, Alice, had set out two mugs of hot-chocolate for them, along with a platter of snacks and Ciara grabbed a ginger-bread cookie as she passed on her way to the movie shelf. A White Christmas wasn't too hard to find, and she quickly put it in their player before going to huddle up next to Mark on the sofa.
She only lasted about half-way through the movie before she'd passed out on his shoulder.
---
When Ciara's eyes reopened she was curled up on her bed with her comforter furrowing up around her neck. Mark must've carried her up to bed after she'd fallen asleep. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she found it was six forty-seven AM, and with that in mind she peered down at Mark, sprawled out across the futon under the bright pink quilt.
Smirking deviously, she shifted into position, shimmying a little before launching herself down on top of him. He started awake, puffing out an involuntary "oof" as she knocked the air out of him. Only just managing to keep her voice down, she giggled and pulled him into a sitting position. "Come on, sleepy-head, lets go and see what's under the wrapping-paper that has been torturing us for the last month!"
Rolling off of him, she clambered to her feet and sprinted out into the hall without waiting to see if he was keeping up. Her parent's bedroom door was open, which meant that the two of them were up already. That left her to deal with her little sister, Sleeping Beauty. Tiptoeing over to Lily's door, she pushed it open a crack before poking her head inside.
Out of nowhere Lily's face appeared before her, and with a muffled scream, Ciara stumbled backward and ended up falling flat on her butt. Her sister broke into a fit of laughter, making her scowl playfully. "All right, Bogeyman! Don'tcha wanna go and see what Santa brought us?" Lily nodded groggily, and by then Marcus had joined them in the hall.
Together the three of them made their way down the stairs, though only Ciara looked truly awake. "Mum? Dad?" she called, knowing they were probably in the kitchen, "Come on, it's present time!" Before long all the presents had been opened, and Marcus and Ciara had pulled their sweaters on over their pyjamas and their Santa hats had been crammed on over their tangled bed-head.
She was stretched out contently on the living-room floor next to where Mark sat cross-legged, playing with the comm device he'd gotten from his parents. When her family had gone to the Christmas sermon at their church--or, in her father's case, gone to deliver it--Mark pulled another wrapped bundle out of his pocket.
"I didn't want to give you this in front of your parents, in case it got you in trouble," he admitted, piquing her curiosity. She sat up and took the package from him, tearing the wrapping paper off to find herself staring at a ticket to New York. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes grew to the size of saucers.
It had been over three months ago that she'd mentioned in passing that she eventually wanted to go to North America, to study at the government-funded alien-language institutes there. She honestly hadn't thought he'd remember. "You... bought me a ticket to North America?" she asked, stunned.
"Yeah. You know, I figured, seeing as you're so good with languages, why shouldn't you pursue it as a career path? So... I bought you a ticket."
Ciara's throat felt tight, and she didn't know what to say. In the end, she simply flung her arms around him and hugged him until she thought she might break his ribs. "Thank you soooo much, Marcus! You have no idea how much this means to me! You're the best friend anyone could ever ask for!" He laughed and pulled her hat further down her forehead, his eyes sparkling.
"Just don't forget about me when you become some big-shot, government linguist on a fancy star-ship out circling Delta Prime," he joked.
Ciara stretched up and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, hugging him again even tighter than before, completely ignoring the tears that sprung to her eyes at the thought of leaving him behind. "I could never forget you, Mark. I love you."
"I love you too, Cici." |
|
