Work Text:
Rosalind is sitting curled up in her armchair, enjoying a most splendid evening. While she doesn't share Robert’s passion for the holidays, she can put up with the christmas silliness for a month every year.
And her brother’s festive spirit sure doesn't disappoint. Most of the day they have spent wandering snowy streets and visiting peculiar shops, comparing decorations and trying to decide what should be at the top of their christmas tree. Robert suggested a star, but eventually admitted that her idea of a pair of angels was much more fitting.
Watching him now – pathetically tangled up in tinsel – is the perfect end to a perfect day.
She gets up from her seat only long enough to turn on their old gramophone, letting a delicious waltz fill the room. Leaning back she closes her eyes, humming along to the music that is interrupted by the occasional swear from Robert's direction – until he suddenly falls completely silent.
She opens her eyes only to find Robert standing mere inches from her, his eyes wild as he attempts to untangle the tinsel from his hair.
"Are you going to just sit there?"
She smiles at that, because it is a very silly question. "Yes. Is there anything else you expect of me?"
"A helping hand?" He gestures towards the tree, its branches mostly bare despite his hard work. She can't help but wonder what he has been up to during the past hour. Perhaps he's simply been putting on a show, hoping that she would decide to help out of the kindness of her heart.
Once again closing her eyes she leans back in her armchair, enjoying a world of nothing but music and darkness. "I think not."
Puppy eyes is one thing, but Robert has the most remarkable ability to actually sound like a whiny dog. She has been wondering for quite some time if it is a genetic trait, and whether or not it would be worth studying. "So you expect me to shoulder the burden?"
She waves a hand in the general direction of the tree, not even bothering to open her eyes. "Robert, decorating a tree is not a burden."
There's nothing but stubbornness in his voice as he replies. "Is."
"Is not." She sighs, trying to lose herself in the rhythm of the music, but he's got her slightly off balance.
"Is."
"Is not."
"Is."
At first it's simply meant as a calming breath, but she ends up rising to her feet, joining him and his beloved tree.
It's obvious that he's been doing this all wrong, and she sincerely hopes that it is on purpose, because it would be a tragedy if he was actually this daft.
"You are supposed to start with the lights, Robert."
He doesn't answer, but he does seem awfully smug as they work side by side, untangling the decorations while making sure that nothing breaks.
The lights are, in fact, candles, and Rosalind has always been of the opinion that it is important to start off with placing the candle holders on the tree – always with precise measurements of course; they should not be too far apart nor too close together.
Once she has made sure that the holders are neatly arranged she helps Robert with the tinsel, their fingers brushing as they circle the three, and it's almost like dancing. Almost like the wonderful waltz she’s been longing for all day.
When he leaves her side for a moment to get the angels she stops in her tracks, remembering the present she's been working on for the past couple of weeks.
"Robert, you won't need a ladder when placing those on top of the tree."
He turns to her, his expression awfully grim. “If this has anything to do with the contraption you’ve been working on I must admit – I have a bad feeling about this.”
She sighs, because christmas has a tendency of making Robert prone to nonsense. “It has everything to do with my contraption, and I will have you know that it is the only gift you’ll be getting this season.”
Not giving him the chance to reply she leaves the room.
The device looks unthreatening where it lies on their workbench, and she leaves their lab with a skip in her step. For once the holiday will be truly magical.
Robert still seems skeptical when she returns, but she pays him no mind. Instead she hands him the device, showing him how to hold it properly.
“This is the most fascinating thing – I’m sure you will agree – you see, all you have to do is make sure the values are correct, the most important one being room temperature, obviously. Once you’ve checked the meters all you need to do is press the button.”
He snorts at that. “There’s only one button?”
Shrugging she steps in closer to him, leaning against him slightly as she expectantly watches the displays on the device. “I thought a minimalistic design would be to your tastes.”
With his fingers wavering next to the button he takes a deep breath, turning his gaze to the christmas tree as if this is the last time he’ll lay eyes on it. “And what exactly is this supposed to do?”
“The angels should disappear, and then reappear on top of the tree.”
When shakes his head it’s with a warm laugh. “All of this to avoid using a ladder?”
“Precisely.”
And as he gives in to his curiosity the room is filled with rays of light. It’s not something that Rosalind expected; nor did she expect the shockwave. It is quite bothersome that the device is so unstable, even more so because she didn’t predict it.
Robert is coughing next to her – always the drama queen – as the smoke clears, only to reveal a tree that’s not entirely on their plane of existence anymore. Distorted and fluorescent it blinks in and out of existence, lighting up the room with an ethereal glimmer. The angels are nowhere to be seen.
“Is it supposed to be doing that?” He does not sound particularly surprised about the outcome, and she should probably feel insulted about that, however; she’s much too fascinated with the tree to bother with such things.
“I’m not quite sure; this device hasn’t exactly been tested.” They watch in silence for a while, and Robert is taking deep breaths next to her, probably trying not to get too mad about the situation.
“A theory: the tree is not supposed to be doing that.” The words aren’t even meant for him, being nothing but a faint mutter as she’s assessing the situation. He answers nonetheless.
“I would be keen to agree.”
For a moment they stay silent, observing the tree and how it dances and shimmers, as if it belonged between two worlds. When Robert once again speaks she’s deep in thought – watching how the tinsel now resembles aurora borealis more than anything else.
“Would you like some hot chocolate?”
And it’s such a wonderful idea. That the contraption works in mysterious ways matters little; they can still spend the evening in the living room, watching the results as they celebrate the holidays. She turns to him, reaching for his hand and offering a thin smile.
“Oh Robert, I thought you’d never ask.”