Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The tree lights up at midnight, just in time for Christmas. The observation deck is littered with pieces of tinsel and a few stray ornaments. There’s a stack of fake presents under the tree, which Eiffel insists is “endearing.” Jacobi wasn’t so sure, but Hera backed Eiffel up, and eventually the presents ended up underneath the scraggly fake pine tree.

Eiffel is sitting over in the corner at the moment, surveying the scene. He catches Jacobi’s eye and quickly looks over to where Minkowski and Lovelace are (and then quickly looks away. Do they have to do that in public?) Hera and Maxwell seem to be engaged in an intense debate about something to do with the effectiveness of older technology in current times. Eiffel can only hear a little of Hera’s part of the conversation from where he is, and it’s impossible to understand. Kepler and Jacobi are... laughing? Eiffel thinks it’s laughing, and it’s strange to see that expression on Kepler’s face when it’s genuine, instead of his initial grin of malice and/or sadistic glee.

It’s not an unpleasant expression, all things considered.

Outside, Wolf 359 is still as blue and bright as ever. The continuous sight of the neverending void has been weighing on Eiffel lately, but right now the room is lit up with Christmas lights and everyone is talking and happy and drinking something akin to hot chocolate. (Hilbert’s unintentional posthumous contribution- who knew he had accidentally made some of his initial fake coffee prototypes taste like hot cocoa?) 

Minkowski had initially been reluctant to accept the idea when Eiffel brought her the box of Christmas decorations that he found in the storage room, “It’s not protocol,” she said, and “weren’t you supposed to be cleaning?”, but she relented when Lovelace said she wanted to do it (and that they could decorate together.)

So here they all are, with the observation deck a nice, warm, homey contrast to the cold metal and glass display it was before. There’s some generic (and probably bad) holiday music playing- probably Hera’s doing. She and Maxwell have been trying to outdo each other with Christmas music lately, and Eiffel doesn’t know what’s at stake, but the bet has quickly turned to finding the worst covers of typical wintery songs imaginable.

Jacobi comes over to where Eiffel is sitting, and Eiffel looks up at him (there’s a little wobbly feeling in his stomach- how long has that been there?) and Jacobi says, “Kepler is telling what I think is probably the world’s longest and most pointless story, and I need someone else to share the pain of having to listen to it.”

“What’s it about?” Eiffel asks, as he gets up and they walk back over to Kepler.

“Whales,” Kepler says, smirking, and without any further elaboration, he launches back into his story.

Jacobi was right, Eiffel thinks, this is the world’s most pointless story. And then, as he meets Jacobi’s eyes and sees him smiling at him, but maybe it’s not such bad company.

Chapter Text

A car splashes through the rain outside, causing the lights outside the window to blur for a moment as the wave of water hits them. Eiffel pities the poor person out driving so close to midnight; tonight's mix of intoxicated drivers, loud fireworks, and reckless partygoers won't make for good driving right now. 

As for him and the rest of the former crew gathered in Minkowski and Lovelace's house, they'll be staying overnight. Lovelace has put up little paper signs over the doors for each bedroom (Maxwell and Hera's appears to say something snarky in binary code. Jacobi, Kepler, and Eiffel's room just says "finally" followed by their names, which Eiffel thinks is a little dramatic, though perhaps not entirely uncalled for.)

The living room is slightly chaotic, everyone having different conversations with several people at once, and wrapping paper strewn across the floor and couches. Everyone had decided to have a gift exchange tonight instead of their typical Christmas party. It had quickly devolved into everyone choosing prank gifts for each other. Kepler had given everyone a "one free story" coupon, which Jacobi says was Maxwell's idea.

"Cutter once threatened to give everybody who didn't come to the office Christmas party a stocking full of teeth," Jacobi says, mouth full of cheese. Eiffel isn't sure whether he's more disturbed by the half chewed cheese or the idea of a stocking with teeth falling out.

Kepler comes back from the kitchen with the drinks (non-alcoholic, as everyone is helping Eiffel) just in time for the countdown on the TV to start. He hands everyone their drinks and sits down next to Eiffel. The ball drops just after Kepler puts an arm around his shoulders, but Eiffel isn't paying attention to the TV.

He's still a little surprised to see everyone so happy. There were times up in space when he thought they'd never get home, and even on the good days, he never expected this kind of contented joy. It's a strange, though not unwelcome feeling, to look around the room and see his friends all watching the TV, so excited for the new year and the symbolism of what it could bring. They've all fought so hard to get where they are, and Eiffel's just thankful to be here with them.

Jacobi smiles at him when he looks to his side and sees him watching the rest of the room, looking a little lost. He squeezes Eiffel's hand, and Eiffel smiles back. There's a chill in his chest, hidden at the very back of his heart, that likes to whisper things to him sometimes, when he's alone or upset, telling him that none of them will ever really escape what happened out there. It likes to convince him that he is still cold, and alone, and aimless like he was years ago. It's not a pleasant voice.

But right now, there's a warmth in Eiffel's chest that overshadows the chill. It's the feeling of two warm bodies on either side of him, and the smiles on Hera and Maxwell's faces, and the cheerful conversation Lovelace and Minkowski are having. It's uncertainty for the future, but not fear, just looking forward, and memories of several good years sandwiched between now and the more unpleasant times.

Next to him, Kepler's telling his whale story again. It’s still just as boring as the first seventy times Eiffel heard it, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Another car passes by outside, and several houses nearby are setting off fireworks. Eiffel leans back on the couch, takes a drink of his soda, and internally quotes the story along with Kepler.

It’s been a good year.

Chapter Text

Eiffel breathes a sigh of relief when the movie, after two and a half hours of terrible special effects, fake vampire blood, and disjointed dialogue, finally draws to a close. He had been excited to see this when it was first announced, but the escapades of Edgard Von Vampirhunt the 12th really didn’t live up to his escapades in the first five films. Eiffel’s already drafting a strongly-worded blog post of the shortcomings of this particular installment in the Vampirhunt series in his head while he’s waiting for the rest of the moviegoers to file out of the room.

Next to him, Jacobi is discussing the last plot twist with Hera and Maxwell. He turns to Eiffel, trying to get him on his side about whether or not the betrayal of Edgard the 12th’s best friend made sense or not. Maxwell and Hera are both trying very hard to get Eiffel to agree with them, and Kepler’s chuckling from Eiffel’s other side. Minkowski and Lovelace are just watching them, smirking.

Eventually, they all head out to the main part of the mall. It’s quickly getting dark outside, and all around them are couples holding various balloons and boxes of chocolates. Minkowski whispers something to Lovelace, and then Lovelace looks at the rest of the group.

“Did anyone remember to make a reservation at a restaurant before we got here?” she says, and Eiffel tries not to face palm. And fails.

“You forgot!” Jacobi says. “I knew you were going to forget! You said you’d take care of it!”

“I had to rewatch the other movies in the series before watching this one! I got distracted!” Eiffel replies, still facepalming.

Maxwell turns to Hera. “I didn’t,” Hera says. “I thought Eiffel was doing it.”

They all turn to Kepler. “Nope,” he says, popping the p.

Lovelace sighs. “Why did we give this very important, definitely extremely difficult task to Eiffel?”

“Hey!” Eiffel says, indignant. Then he deflates slightly. “Sorry, guys.”

After ten minutes calling various restaurants and getting no positive responses, Hera suggests a fast food place. “They’re not the best places for a triple date, but it’s something,” she says. Immediately, everyone starts suggesting different burger chains. Eiffel stands firmly with In N Out (obviously the best and only reasonable choice.) Lovelace suggests some place called Habit Burger. Hera rolls her eyes at all the suggestions and says that as long as they don’t go to Taco Bell, she’s okay with anything.

“Taco Bell does have good cinnabon bites,” Jacobi says, and is immediately silenced by groans from everyone else. “Alright, alright.” He looks resigned. “We could always eat here,” he gestures to the food court. “I mean, it’s not going to be great, but there are a couple tables we could push together and nobody would have to get into a fight over who makes the best burgers on the west coast.” 

Lovelace looks thoughtful for a moment. “Care to accompany me to the pretzel place, my lady?” she says, offering her arm to Minkowski, who tries to look unaffected but is clearly blushing.

The group disperses, and then joins back together at a couple tables a few minutes later. Looking around, no one seems too upset at the change of plans. Eiffel can’t complain, he’s just happy no one got very mad at him. He looks down at his plate of (very very bad) mall sushi, and up at the rest of the group, who are all smiling and laughing. He meets Jacobi’s eye, and smiles back, and then turns his attention to the group conversation, both happy and relieved. That changes quickly, however, when he realizes the actual topic of conversation.

Kepler’s telling his whale story. Again.