Chapter Text
Grace and Charlie both sat at the kitchen counter, each writing a letter to Santa, well, Charlie was just scribbling with his crayon, but Grace wrote on a piece of cream-colored stationery, trimmed in little holly berries, with the help of his mother.
He would like to say that it was a tradition, since his whole family was always big on tradition and, in a way, it was, but mostly it was a huge help in making sure that he had gotten his baby something she really had wanted off her Christmas wish list.
For as long as he could remember, he and his siblings would write letters and then get three special gifts from Santa under the tree, just like the baby Jesus had gotten three special gifts from the Wise Men on that very first Christmas.
As far as traditions go, this one now seemed more practical, but as a child he felt very special indeed and so, even though Grace and now Charlie would be showered with gifts from Stan and Rachel and her side of the family, and also get a gift from his folks and siblings, his kids would get just three special gifts from him and Steve in the name of Santa.
Which reminded him that he still had some things to wrap and needed to ask his ma where she had stashed the wrapping paper, as she had already wrapped some of the gifts he had shipped before they had arrived and his ma always, always had a separate paper for each person so that she could tell which gift went to who without having to use name tags that would tend to come off and cause pandemonium on Christmas morning with five excited children, and now in-laws and grandbabies waiting to open their gifts.
Also, his mom and Grace had gone shopping earlier in the day and he had promised to help Grace wrap the gifts she had bought, all except his, that was…she had informed him that Uncle Steve would help her with that.
He was done shopping, or at least mostly done and he had a good idea of what the kids wanted this year anyway, but he did have a few last-minute things to pick up and he wanted to be sure he had what he needed now as opposed to waiting until Christmas Eve, like a lot of people, seemed to do.
And let’s not forget that Steve had tagged along on the girls shopping adventure and Danny was curious about that too. They had agreed that the trip would be their gift to each other and that they would buy each other one inexpensive present to open on Christmas morning, but even though he would never admit it, he really did like being surprised from time to time.
Charlie babbled away as his little monkey neatly folded her letter and put it into the envelope addressed to Santa at the North Pole.
Danny sipped his coffee and watched as she took Charlie’s paper from him, giving him another before his little lip could quiver and tucked it into the envelope too, declaring, “I am sure Santa can read Charlie's list too!”
“I’m sure he can, Monkey,” Danny agreed.
“Can we take it to the mailbox now, Danno?” she slid down from the stool and came around the island to stand next to the sofa where he was sitting.
His ma grabbed up Charlie and called, “let me get a stamp, Grace,” and went down the hall with his little boy snuggled close, to his Pop’s office to search through the desk for a stamp, so Danny stood and put his empty mug into the sink, saying, “let’s get on your coat and we can put it in the box now.”
She bounced in place, little legs unable to stay still as he went to get her coat from the closet and Steve and his Pop came in the front door, Steve shucking his coat, sprinkled with fresh snowflakes, that had been only coming down for the last thirty minutes or so.
“Uncle Steve,” Grace called, running to meet the men in the hallway, “Poppy…did you find them?”
His dad grabbed her up, still in his coat and Danny could feel the cold air coming from him and knew that Grace could feel it too, but she hadn’t complained, no doubt loving the snow just as much as Danny had.
Steve pulled him into a quick embrace, telling them, “I think we got the last set, but they are already staked down and standing watch with their gifts over the Nativity.”
“That’s good news,” his ma confirmed, giving his dad a quick peck on the cheek and handing him Charlie before sticking the stamp onto the envelope Grace held in her hand.
“What’s that,” Steve asked.
“It’s my letter to Santa, Uncle Steve, …well, me and Charlie’s, but I don’t know if he will be able to understand Charlie’s since he can’t write yet.”
Steve scooped up his baby girl from his pop and told her, “I bet he already knows, Grace…Santa is magic, so he already knows what every little girl and boy want, but I bet he appreciates you taking the time to write him.”
She seemed to be thinking about it, but finally nodded her head and Danny was just so grateful that his little girl still believed. It had been hard answering her questions this year about whether Santa was real, telling him that some of her classmates no longer believed in the man in the red suit, and it saddened him that his baby had lost just a little bit more of her innocence, but he knew he had been lucky that she had believed up until now and took this year as the gift it was…next year may be a different story, but he would tell her the same thing that his folks had told them when they each got to the age of not believing, and that was that Santa was a real person and that he lives on and uses those that believe in him to spread the joy of Christmas.
“Can we mail it now, Danno?” she asked, reaching for him, so he took her, careful of his ostomy, because really, she was getting too big to pick up, but since he wasn’t about to tell her that and Steve had handed her over and he hadn’t needed to pick up her weight, he enjoyed the big hug and walked her to the door to look outside at the gentle falling snow and mailbox at the end of the gated front yard and said, “how about we let Poppy run it out since he still has on his coat?”
She shivered in his arms and nodded her head, saying, “yes…can you Poppy?”
“Of course,” his dad told her, plucking the letter from her hand and handing Charlie to Steve and went out the door.
They all watched him go, leaving his boot prints in the freshly falling snow, opening the box and pulling up the flag so that the mail person would know they had an important letter to send.
His mom said, “thanks for helping Pop, Steve. I have no idea what happened to our Wise Men, they should have been in the garage rafters with the rest of the decorations, but the Nativity wouldn’t be the same without them.”
Steve put Charlie down and took Grace from him, sitting her feet on the floor and let the kids run back into the family room, telling his mother, “it’s no problem at all. We found a set at the third store and Jimmy said they were the same as the ones that went missing, so I guess we lucked out.”
“A real Christmas miracle,” she agreed with a smile, taking his dad’s coat as he stepped back into the house, letting him toe off his boots before grabbing up both men’s gear and taking them to the mudroom at the back of the house so that they would dry, calling, “lasagna is in the oven and I have hot chocolate cooling in a pan on the stove…Ruthie and Becca will be here with their families around six, so there is time for a nap for anyone who may need one.”
His dad patted him on the shoulder on the way by, telling them, “I think she means me…” and then disappeared down the hall.
He asked Steve, “how about it…a little nap might do us both good and I can put Charlie down too…Grace can watch a movie with Ma…”
They both headed down the hall, and he noticed that his Pop and Charlie were not in sight, but his mom and daughter sat on the sofa, rewatching Elf.
She told them, “you two go ahead…I’ve got her…”
“The presents,” Grace piped in. “Don’t forget to wrap the presents, Danno…Mom Mom said she will help me with yours and Uncle Steve’s.”
“Okay, baby,” he agreed, grabbing down two mugs and pouring in some real hot chocolate, tossing in a few mini marshmallows from the open bag sitting on the counter, filling Steve’s cup to the brim.
“I laid out the bags on your bed, babe,” his mother told him as he passed Steve his mug. “They are in separate bags with the paper to use and I left the scissors and tape on your desk.”
“Thanks, ma…Monkey, I will get those wrapped and under the tree for you today.”
Steve grabbed his hand and pulled, moving him toward the steps, so he went, sipping his hot chocolate on the way up, but he only took a few drinks, not wanting to overindulge and end up feeling sick.
He had already overindulged with all the cookies and treats laying around and his mother’s cooking, which he would never complain about, but there was lasagna in the oven and he really wanted to be able to eat it, so he put his mug down when they got to his room, eyeing the scattered bags on his bed and Steve as he moved toward them, wondering again what Steve may have been shopping for earlier in the day.
“What?” Steve asked, but Danny just shook his head, moving to the bed, deciding not to nose around.
Grace had told Steve about how three gifts were special, so maybe Steve just wanted to pick up something else for his parents, as they had already gotten them tickets to see a Broadway show and Grace and Charlie would be presenting them with handmade cards and a gift certificate to 5 Napkin Burgers, so his folks could enjoy a night out at one of their favorite spots in the city.
“So,” Steve said, picking up a roll of red and green plaid wrapping paper dotted with Santa’s riding in his sleigh.
“That’s Charlie’s paper,” he explained and pulled out a Little People’s fire truck that Grace had picked out for her brother.
Steve sat on the bed, grabbing the toy and turning it over in his hands, accidentally hitting the button that made the sirens go off, slapping at the fire engine to get it to stop.
“Nice,” Danny laughed, grabbing the scissors and tape, taking the toy and measuring out enough paper to cover the gift.
He set about folding and taping the sides, making crisp seams at each end and taping them down too. “So,” he asked, putting the wrapped gift aside, making a mental note to ask his ma for the ribbon to make a bow before putting the gift under the tree. “I don’t think I’ve asked you about your family holiday traditions…is there something you want to include…”
When he looked over to Steve, his partner had stopped playing with a scrap of paper and looked up at him and said, “I ah…well…”
Danny rolled his eyes, then plopped down by Steve, moving the last few bags down to the floor, telling him, “It’s your Christmas too, babe…I want to incorporate any special traditions you may have.”
Steve smiled and leaned in for a soft kiss, hugging Danny closer and told him, “most of my Christmas’ weren’t so special Danno…when I was younger my mom tried her best, but dad was working a lot and then once she died…or at least we thought she had, dad sent us away, so…”
Danny held on, waiting, but when Steve hadn’t said more, he pushed back a bit and kissed him again and then told him, “well, then think of one or two special things that you do remember and we’ll do them, okay…we’ll do them and we’ll make some new traditions too…we’ll make some new memories for our little family.”
Steve nodded, leaning in for another kiss and then another and before he knew it, he was laying on the bed with Steve astride him, and then he felt his big, warm hand on his bare belly, rubbing under his shirt while more kisses rained down over his face, his nose and eyelids and then finally his mouth again.
When he finally came up for breath, Steve had rested his head on Danny’s shoulder and moved his fingertips round and around on his belly in soft little circles and breathed a sigh against Danny’s neck, bringing goose flesh along his collar bone.
“This is nice,” Steve told him, snuggling closer. “I like the quiet of the house and the cold weather and the sweaters and the falling snow…let's make this our new tradition…let’s spend our Christmas’ here in Jersey with family every year.”
Danny’s heart melted at the sentiment and he nodded his head because that would be a dream come true, but he had to mention, “it’s quiet now, babe, but just wait…you may change your mind when the house is full of Williams and you have nowhere to go…”
“Where would I want to go, baby,” Steve whispered against his chest, his breath evening out and his eyes drifting closed. “This…is the…only…”
He nodded then, watched Steve’s profile as he slept against his chest and then agreed, “Yeah, babe…me too…with you…the only place I ever want to be,” and then he closed his eyes too and fell into sweet dreams of wise men and Santa and wrapped gifts and his kids and Steve…traditions old and new and theirs…
H50H50H50
