Work Text:
With Sam still at Trini’s with the superhero squad, it’s quiet when they arrive back at Bucky’s place. Peter and Braeden seem to take Sam’s absence as permission to snoop in the public areas, because they disappear into the formal living room when they step inside. Stiles hears Bucky chuckle as they loudly discuss the uncomfortable furniture and wall art.
“Forgive them,” Stiles says, shaking his head. “They’re just very opinionated. They also don’t realize that not everyone wants to hear their thoughts on furniture.”
“Doc, I’ve only really spent time with Lydia and Peter, but I’d be willing to say that all of your pack is probably opinionated,” Bucky says. “If they aren’t, they’d never get to say a word. This is actually subdued, with good reason.”
“He isn’t wrong, brother dear,” Lydia points out. “I think your dad and Derek are probably the only members who lean towards silent thought instead of thinking out loud.”
“Derek’s sassy; he just hides it behind his resting bitch face and glowering,” Stiles reminds her. “My dad can be a wiseass—you know I get that from my
Pops—but he isn’t loud or demanding unless he has to be. Parrish is laidback and quiet, so he’s probably one of the few who isn’t some kind of sasshole.”
“Did you really just make up a word to describe the majority of our pack?” Lydia asks, giving him an indulgent look. “I’m not complaining, it is scarily accurate, but I don’t know if I approve of being lumped in with others who wield that particular weapon much better than I do.”
“Did Princess actually just admit that someone does something better than her?” Braeden asks, wandering into the hall with a smirk on her face. “Also, I never got a tour because of Hydra bullshit, so can I do a self tour now?”
“A self tour?” Stiles asks, arching a brow as he leans against Bucky’s side, feeling safe and secure with his left arm around his shoulders. “What do you say first?”
She studies him a moment, obviously trying to figure out what he means, before she grins. “I promise not to break into any locked rooms,” she says dutifully, holding three fingers up. “Scout’s honor.”
“When, exactly, were a Boy Scout, Brae?” he asks dryly before he frowns. “But, hey, if you actually were and now you’d need to join the Girl Scouts, I totally support and accept that.”
“I’m glad to know that I chose such an inclusive and respectful alpha,” Braeden says smugly, “but I was actually in the Girl Scouts, so I used that sign. You were just making assumptions because men and boys always seem to be the default thought for people, even for someone as open minded as you.”
“Burn,” Lydia says, lightly punching his arm. “And I think he meant that you might want to ask James before you go snooping through his house. His floor is one thing, but he and Sam share the first, third, and fourth, so some areas might be off limits even if they aren’t locked.”
“Yes, that,” Stiles says. “This isn’t our house, so asking me for permission doesn’t count. You have to ask Buck since it’s his place. He can decide if he wants to indulge you in the whole self-tour or not.”
“You’ll have to forgive your alpha,” Bucky says, gently squeezing his shoulder. “He’s tired and therefore a little cranky. Don’t give me that look, Doc. I’m not judging at all. It’s been a rough day for all of us, but especially for you.”
“Oh, this I do want to hear,” Peter says, leaning against the doorframe. “Please continue, James. You were calling Stiles cranky when we left off.”
“You’re a menace, Peter,” Bucky mutters, which makes Stiles duck his head so he doesn’t realize he made him smile. He’s trying to be solemn over the whole tired and cranky comment, after all. “Doc, I’m just saying that I’m part of your pack and also your boyfriend. What’s mine is yours, you know? So I’m going to back up whatever decision you make about her snooping around. Just leave the second floor alone since that’s Sam’s personal space.”
“Nice save, James,” Peter says, nodding his approval. “You won’t be sleeping on the sofa this evening, at least. Bringing up your place in our pack and in his life was a stroke of genius because, really, how can he dispute that? He can’t, which means he’ll be smitten by your earnest desire to be a good packmate and boyfriend.”
“Are you finished now or do you want to keep going?” Stiles asks, giving Peter a look. “I don’t think that Bucky needs you to provide him with commentary on everything he says. But you’re right about one thing—I am smitten. Isn’t he wonderful? Brand new to the supernatural world yet ready to embrace pack life and just roll with it.”
“Oh stop. You’re going to make me blush,” Bucky says demurely. “No, but seriously, you can say more.” He laughs when Stiles smacks a wet kiss against his cheek. “For the record, Peter can blab all he wants. I got used to focusing on what I needed to hear and ignoring the rest during the war. He’s nothing compared to Dum Dum. That man could talk your ear off.”
“Okay, so, James is my new favorite,” Braeden announces. “Comparing Peter Hale to someone named Dum Dum has earned him that coveted honor. Don’t sulk, Peter. It’ll just give you wrinkles, and we know how horrible that would be. Now, we should get upstairs so we can order food before things close, considering it’s Christmas Eve, and I’ll go exploring later”
“Food sounds amazing,” Stiles says, his stomach growling as he thinks about it. “The only thing I’ve had today was a slice of toast when I was looking at Kaminsky’s porn collection earlier. Oh, hey, that reminds me. I found something just before Lydia called to let me know about the kidnapping.”
“Is it something that needs to be dealt with immediately? We’re talking life or death. If not? It can wait for Thursday,” Bucky tells him, kissing the corner of his mouth. “We aren’t working tonight, and tomorrow is Christmas, which means we aren’t dealing with anything Hydra related for the next thirty-six hours or so. Got it, Doc?”
“Yes, sir, sergeant, sir,” he says, saluting Bucky haphazardly. Bucky groans, and Stiles can’t resist smirking at him. “Hey, it’s not my fault you slipped into the sexy bossy commander voice. The people the information involves are dead, so I guess that means it can wait.”
“Pack Rule: no telling Mom that he’s sexy when we’re around,” Lydia says in a matter-of-fact tone that makes Stiles almost miss the reference to Bucky as Mom. When he catches it, he snickers, which earns him a wink from Lydia. “Now, I’m not walking up four flights of stairs, so I’ll be taking the elevator. I also need something to put on my wrists so people don’t assume that I’m into BDSM without appropriate safety measures.”
“Why don’t you take Lydia and Braeden upstairs in the elevator?” Bucky suggests. “I already know that Peter prefers taking the stairs.” He leans in and quietly asks Stiles, “What does BDSM mean? That term isn’t familiar to me.”
“Why don’t I explain it on the walk upstairs?” Peter asks, an actual evil grin on his lips that makes Stiles narrow his eyes. Noticing Stiles’ reaction, he changes his expression to something less outwardly evil. Stiles isn’t fooled, though. “Don’t worry, alpha. I’ll be gentle with him.”
“Why do I get the feeling that I’m going to regret asking that?” Bucky mutters, eyeing Peter suspiciously. “I also really need to adjust to the super hearing thing that werewolves have or I’ll never have a private conversation again.”
“As soon as one of them overhears something incredibly private, you just get to a point where you have no shame left,” Stiles says, speaking from experience. There are only so many times that Scott interrupted Private Stiles Time before he just stopped caring what they overhear or smell. “It’s easier to just stop caring than it is to try to constantly be on alert. Besides, certain werewolves are creepy creepers who deliberately try to overhear things like the weirdo voyeurs they are.”
“Now, sweetheart, why did you look my way when you said that?” Peter asks, not able to pull off the innocent tone at all. He seems to realize that he failed at it because he quickly changes the subject. “You really do need to tend to Lydia’s wrists. Run along now. James and I will meet you upstairs.”
Braeden gently shoves Stiles in the direction that Lydia’s walking. “James isn’t a prude, so he’s going to be fine,” she says. “Besides, Peter is probably going to go into educational mode when he realizes that James isn’t the blushing type.”
“You can already tell that?” Stiles asks, arching a brow. “You’re right, though. He’s way more sexually liberal than you’d expect from someone who became an adult in the thirties. I did a deep dive once and ended up reading about sexuality in Germany pre-World War II, so I know that some places were very progressive before the war fucked up all that progress and set society back into puritan times. Just like politicians around the world have been trying to do again for the past few years.”
“History has a bad habit of repeating itself,” Lydia says, leaning against the elevator wall. “Too few people ever learn from it, so we’re destined to continue making the same mistakes or variations of them.”
“Okay,” Braeden says, nodding slowly. “I’m glad I didn’t go with my first instinct, which was to say that James is a big boy, if you know what I mean.” She laughs and shakes her head. “You two are far too mature and intellectual for my crass humor.”
“He really is,” Stiles says casually. “I’ve never asked if the super soldier serum made him grow all over or if he’s always had a big dick. I figure he hasn’t asked me about mine, so I’m not going to question his good fortune, either. It’s not like I’m complaining.”
“No, you’re gloating, which is especially annoying when we’re both single,” Lydia says, motioning at her and Braeden. “For what it’s worth, Stiles is never too mature for crass humor, Braeden. He’s got a perpetual thirteen year old boy sense of humor when it comes to some things, unfortunately.”
“Don’t listen to Lydia,” he says, stepping out of the elevator when the doors open. He looks around and doesn’t see Bucky or Peter, which means they actually are talking. Otherwise, they’d have been here waiting just to show off how fast they can make it up the stairs. “I’m going to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable for vegging out. Do either of you want to borrow something to wear?”
“Yes, please,” Lydia says. “I was dressed for holiday shopping in crowds, not lazing around watching Christmas movies. Actually, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a shower first and put some first aid cream on my wrists where the skin is rubbed off. I’ve got ‘kidnapped and held at a skanky warehouse’ grime all over me.”
“You know where the guest bathroom is, babe,” he says, motioning to that side of the floor. “Actually, I think you’ve got some clothes in your room, don’t you? I know you left some stuff here after Thanksgiving. I’ll get you the first aid stuff.”
“Oh, that’s right,” she says, watching him open a drawer in the kitchen where Bucky keeps basic first aid supplies. “Braeden, I think I do have some things here if you’d like to see if anything fits you. Otherwise, I know that Stiles has sweats and t-shirts here since that’s his usual outfit choice when he isn’t working.”
“I’m actually pretty comfy,” Braeden says, grinning when they both look at her. “What? I only wear things that give me freedom of movement in case I have to kick ass, so it isn’t like I’m uncomfortable. I can always change later if I get tired of the denim.”
“You’ll definitely want to borrow a shirt to sleep in,” Stiles says, not understanding how anyone could find tight blue jeans comfortable. At least, she’s wearing a normal tank top instead of one of the leather ones. “That one might be too cold for tonight.”
“I run hot, so who knows,” Braeden says, shrugging. “I’m glad to be able to get my coat off, though. I
was getting sweaty for a short time there. Oh, Stiles, your notes are still out. You’d better get your laptop and stuff put away before James gets up here. You heard him say no work tonight. Well, you heard him unless you were too distracted by how sexy he sounded.”
“Yeah, no. We aren’t doing a whole ‘gang up on Stiles and tease him when he’s too exhausted to retaliate’ thing. You and Lydia need to stop,” he says, bringing out his pouty face. It usually works on Lydia or she pretends it does.
“Why’d I get pulled into this?” Lydia asks, taking the tube of cream from him “I’m already well aware of how ridiculous you are over James. It isn’t fun to tease you when you’re lovesick and pathetic; it makes me feel like I’m back in freshman year bullying someone for wearing awful shoes. They can’t help their lack of taste in footwear, and you can’t help the fact that you’re head over heels for James.”
“Okay, see, that whole thing was teasing,” he points out, reaching over the back of the sofa to get a pillow that he throws at her. “And don’t talk so loud. He doesn’t have werewolf hearing, but he can hear much better than normal people.”
Lydia catches the pillow and smirks. “Like he doesn’t already know that you’re head over heels, baby brother. If he was stupid and unobservant, you wouldn’t be dating him.”
“Besides all of that, he looks at you like you’re puking rainbows and shitting unicorns,” Braeden says bluntly. “Oh, come on. Don’t look at me like that. I’m a decade older than you two, so you know what I mean. He’s got it just as bad, if not worse, is all I’m saying.”
“On that note, I'm going to get my research to an appropriate stopping point so I can pick it back up on Thursday,” Stiles says, shaking his head at Braeden even as he has to bite back his grin. “I was interrupted mid-movie when the whole kidnapping plot started. Jesus, our lives sound like a cheesy action movie now instead of a too spicy for network TV romance.”
“No, babe. Your life, not ours,” Lydia says, ruffling his hair as she walks past him. “I’m merely the beautiful scene stealing support who unwittingly gets pulled into your ridiculous shenanigans. I’m going to shower. If you order food before I return, you know what I eat.”
“You alright, Stiles?” Braeden asks, her teasing tone gone as she reaches over to touch his shoulder. “You look confused, which isn’t necessarily a good thing when we’re dealing with Nazis, minions, and betrayal.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. She just made me realize something that I hadn’t really noticed,” he admits, looking at Braeden. “I’ve always been the sidekick and supporting player in someone else’s life, you know? But I actually am sort of the lead right now, and that’s an odd feeling. I’m kinda ready to let someone else take the spotlight if it comes with all this death and betrayal.”
“I don’t think real life is like the movies,” she points out. “I mean, aren’t we always the star of our lives? Sure, there are times when we work on something with other people and have to take a more supporting role, but we’re still the main thing that matters overall in our own lives. You might have seen yourself as a sidekick, but wasn’t it more like co-starring in shared adventures than anything else?”
“Maybe so,” he says, shrugging. “It’s been years since I’ve had anything other than work happening in my life, so I guess it just seems more like being a lead when I’m dealing with Hydra and Nergal and Enki.” He stops and frowns. “Actually, I haven’t heard anything from Enki since the Bumble clue.”
Walking over to the table, he sits down and opens his phone. Scrolling down, he finally finds the thread with the unknown Enki. He types a comment and hits send, wondering if Enki might be someone they’ve killed or captured.
The boss of Nergal has been dealt with. The local cell is being dismantled. The men who set the fire at Meadowlark East were found and killed during another arson attempt. Are you still out there or were you part of the group that’s been captured?
Really, they’ve found a lot of answers and tied up many of the threads. There are still some things to figure out, mostly because he doesn’t like having loose threads that might be important lingering unanswered, but the case is definitely edging towards an end. He’s looking forward to it being over because he’s definitely missing the days when figuring out where to eat dinner before work was the toughest thing he had to do.
Unlocking the laptop, he sees the paused image of Carrie’s face and looks at it for a moment. Now isn’t the time, but he’ll get back to this on Thursday. He wants to figure out how a young woman who was going to nursing school and living a seemingly quiet life got mixed up with someone like Kaminsky and how that connects to Mata. Hearing the door open, he quickly clicks the button to minimize the screen.
The only reason he unlocked the laptop was to make sure he saved his spot, so he makes a note of the important video with Carrie before locking it again. He shuts the lid and turns his chair just as he sees Bucky entering with a smug smile on his handsome face. Peter walks in behind him, looking slightly shell-shocked.
“Good talk?” Stiles asks casually, like he hasn’t been sending a text or looking at files. “We thought you might have gotten lost. Lydia’s taking a shower and changing into comfy clothes, but I know what she wants to eat if we want to go ahead and place an order for dinner.”
“Yeah, it was a good talk,” Bucky says. “Peter realized that his generation didn’t invent sex, and I got to hear new labels for things that I’ve always known as something else.” He looks at Stiles and narrows his eyes. “Why are you acting guilty, Doc? What were you doing when we came in?”
“Me? Guilty? You’re imagining things, Buck,” he says smoothly. “I’m just patiently waiting for you guys to get here so we can order food. Once that’s done, I’m going to change into comfy clothes myself. You okay, Peter? You look less smirky than usual.”
“I’m fine,” Peter says, rolling his eyes. “James just had many questions, some of which I surprisingly wasn’t able to answer. He is nearly as inquisitive as you, sweetheart.”
“I’m not imagining you sitting by your computer with your case notes right there,” Bucky says pointedly. “You didn’t have time to research, but you were tempted, weren’t you? What am I gonna do with you, Doc?”
“I’ve got some ideas,” Stiles says sweetly, tilting his head back for a kiss. Bucky walks over and pins him in by putting his hands on either side of the chair before leaning down to kiss him. It’s a quick kiss, just a press of lips against his mouth, so he reaches up to grip Bucky’s neck and pull him back in for a real kiss. Stiles takes control of it, pressing more firmly, licking at Bucky’s lips until they part, letting him deepen the kiss.
“If you’re going to have sex on the table, you want to move your laptop so it doesn’t get knocked off and break,” Braeden says helpfully. Stiles groans into the kiss before pulling back and looking at her. “You don’t have to stop on my account. I was enjoying the show.”
Bucky drops his head to Stiles’ shoulder, his shoulders shaking slightly as he laughs against his neck. “You said something about changing clothes, didn’t you? Maybe we should go do that.”
“You’re not going together, James,” Peter says firmly. “I have no interest in overhearing my alpha and his mate having sex, which is highly likely to happen if you two disappear together. No, you’ll go change separately, and Stiles can go first. Alpha privilege, if you will.”
“Never took you for a prude, Creeper wolf,” Stiles says, standing up and pushing the chair out of the way. “However, Bucky and I have discussed it previously, and we know that neither one of us are into exhibitionism, so I’ll go change first. Look to see what’s open and delivering around here, Buck. The later it gets, the less variety of options we’ll likely have.”
“You know, I kinda understand the whole ‘bossy is sexy’ thing when you do it,” Bucky says, winking at him. “I’ll see what restaurants are delivering, Doc. We’d better have our order placed before Lydia comes back or she’ll give us that disappointed yet judgmental look.”
Stiles smacks a kiss against his jaw before walking to the bedroom. Looking down at himself, he realizes that he could use a shower, too. He’s got blood on his clothes from the warehouse, but he managed not to get any on himself. Stripping down, he wanders into the bathroom and steps into the shower, turning the water to hot after the initial spray of cold startles him.
It’s a quick shower. He uses Bucky’s body wash, sudsing up and rinsing off before washing his hair. He doesn’t linger after he’s finished, turning off the water and stepping onto the rug. He grabs a towel, drying off and then deliberately dropping it on the floor. That’ll irritate Bucky because he’s anal about that kind of thing, which means he’ll get feisty tonight when they go to bed.
With that thought in mind, he walks into the closet to get dressed. He doesn’t bother with socks, knowing the floors will be warm enough without them. The Christmas t-shirt he wears every year is tucked into one of the drawers that Bucky gave him weeks ago. Pulling it out, he slips it over his head, the cotton soft from years of washing.
The sweatpants he grabs are also old but much more well worn. He starts to leave the closet before turning and going back inside. Shoving his sweatpants down, he grabs underwear from the drawer and pulls them on before putting his pants back on. While he usually doesn’t bother wearing underwear when it’s just him and Bucky lounging around, he needs to wear them today.
He walks back into the living room to find Braeden sitting on the sofa with her feet on the table, and Peter flipping through a book. Bucky’s on his phone, a thoughtful look on his face. He glances up when Stiles enters the room, snorting as he reads his t-shirt— Jingle my bells and I’ll guarantee a white Christmas .
“Classy shirt, sweetheart,” Peter says drolly. “However, I doubt that’s the sort of Christmas slogan that’s considered appropriate for a family gathering. What must your lovely stepmother think of you wearing that to your holiday dinner?”
“Mom thinks it’s hilarious actually,” Lydia says, entering the room. Her hair is wrapped up in a towel, and she’s wearing silk pajamas with fuzzy pink socks. “Personally, I can’t believe you haven’t bought something new by now. What have we ordered for dinner?”
“Nothing yet,” Bucky admits, getting to his feet and tossing his phone to Stiles. “You can order, Doc. Chinese or Thai both sound good, but I couldn’t decide which would be better. I’m going to shower and change, but I don’t have a crude holiday shirt to wear, so it’ll have to be a simple t-shirt instead.”
“You could always go without one at all, Buck,” Stiles suggests sweetly. He laughs when Bucky rolls his eyes and shakes his head in response. “Just saying. Stop looking like you’ve swallowed a lemon, Peter. He isn’t actually going to go around without clothes on. More's the pity. Alright, time to order food. I’m choosing Chinese because it’s faster. What does everyone want?”
While he places the order, Bucky goes to shower and change. He knows what to order for Bucky, so he’s soon got the order placed with an estimated arrival time of thirty minutes. Exiting the app, he smiles when he sees Bucky’s phone background is a candid photo of him.
“Food’s ordered,” he says, locking Bucky’s phone before looking at them. He walks over and sits on the sofa beside Braeden. “I’m really glad that you’re all here. I trust Bucky and his team, but it’s different knowing that my pack has my back.”
“I’m just relieved that you’re finally willing to acknowledge our pack bonds and step into the alpha role,” Peter says, oddly sincere for once. “I was going to give you another year before I took more drastic action.”
“He isn’t exaggerating,” Lydia says, sitting beside him. She leans against his shoulder, her towel turban hitting his face. He nudges her, and she shifts slightly. “I have a meeting on my calendar for next July that he sent to me several years ago with the topic ‘Pack Discussion’, so he’s serious about the ten year limit.”
“Ah, so meeting Lydia is the drastic action then,” Braeden says solemnly. “I’m here because Peter said you needed help. I’m always ready to kick ass, but I figured it would be good to see you and find out how this whole pack thing works.”
“Well, when you find out, let me know,” Stiles says, moving his arm around Lydia’s shoulder so they’re in a better position. She sits forward and pulls the towel off her head, rubbing her hair with it before leaning back against his arm. “Settled now, babe?”
“You kept elbowing me because of my hair, so now you can stop being annoying,” she says before kissing his cheek. “Being pack seems to be a lot like being a family. Supportive and unconditional albeit occasionally dysfunctional. I don’t think there’s much to how it works beyond committing to it and being there for one another.”
“You aren’t wrong,” Peter says. “Even for non-familial packs, the bond and connection can seem that way. There’s much more to it, of course, but it’s not the time to discuss all of that. You’ve both had a trying day, and I believe there was mention of watching cartoons, wasn’t there? I must admit, I haven’t really celebrated the holidays since the fire, so I’m rather looking forward to this.”
“I’m pretty sure that Prime has Charlie Brown and the Grinch for streaming,” Stiles says, sending Peter warmth through the bond to see if it works. Peter blinks and looks surprised then pleased, which means he must have done it right.
“Why go for old animated shows instead of any number of Christmas movies?” Braeden asks. “I bet that James hasn’t ever seen Die Hard.”
“Die Hard is not a Christmas movie, Braeden,” Lydia says. “Just because it’s set during a holiday party doesn’t mean it falls into that genre. Besides that, I think we could use a break from action and gunfire considering how we spent the morning.”
“Point. Maybe tomorrow,” Braeden says, standing up and walking over to sit in the chair. She arches a brow. “Your boy toy is out of the shower, and I’m sure he’ll want to cuddle up close with you.”
“You do know he’s over a hundred years old, don’t you? I think ‘boy toy’ might not be the best name for him,” Stiles says. “Even if all of the years he was kept in stasis don’t count, he’s still, like, twenty-eight or twenty-nine.”
Lydia jumps into a whole scientific discussion that would normally interest him but just doesn’t keep his attention today. There are things he’s trying not to think about, though, so he listens to her voice as he searches for Christmas cartoons. Their food arrives as she’s still in her lecture mode, so Peter offers to go downstairs to get it, likely jumping at the chance to escape for a moment.
Bucky comes in from the bedroom just as Peter’s getting back with their food. He looks around before walking to the kitchen. “We have water, Coke, and this fancy craft beer that Stiles doesn’t hate drinking. What does everyone want?”
“I’ll take a beer, Buck,” he says, leaning forward to take the bag of food from Peter. “Can you grab extra napkins on your way back? The egg rolls are greasy today, which means they’ll be juicy and delicious but messy.”
“I’ve got beer for you and Braeden, water for Peter and Lydia, and napkins. Anything else, Doc?” Bucky asks getting a bottle of beer for himself. Stiles wonders how he’s going to carry it all, but he trusts that he’ll manage,
“Nope, just you. It looks like we have everything else we need in the bag,” Stiles says, handing out cartons to the others. Bucky comes over and sits down beside him in the spot Braeden just left, passing around drinks.
“For a quickly thrown together plan, this is surprisingly nice, brother husband,” Lydia says, taking a tiny bite from her egg roll. “I’m glad you planned ahead when ordering and got extra. I’m hungrier than I realized.”
“Kidnapping can take a lot out of you. I’m just glad they didn’t torture you. The bruise on your face will heal alright,” Bucky says, stealing a piece of chicken from his carton. Stiles elbows him in warning, which just makes him smirk. “I’ve got abs of steel, Doc. It’ll take more than that to keep me away.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve got your own, Buck. You’re also incredibly lucky because I don’t want to keep you away from me—just my food.” Once they’re all settled down and comfortable, Stiles pushes play on the remote. He leans against Bucky’s side, accepting half of his egg roll as a peace offering. It’s sort of become their routine when they order Chinese. He feels a lot better than he expected to after everything with Trini, and he knows it’s because he’s got his pack and Bucky with him. “Get ready to meet Charlie Brown and Snoopy, Buck. We’ll introduce you to the Grinch next.”