Archive of Our Own ^beta

Doug pushed his shopping cart through the suffocatingly dense crowds at the supermarket, as Christmas music blared through the speakers overhead. It was the 23rd of December, and most of the stores around would be closed tomorrow. He tried not to let all the merrymaking grate on him, but it always did.

He was slowly but surely regaining his memories, and with it came a distaste for all the Christmas celebrations. As much as he didn't want to drag the others down, every Christmas song just brought back memories of feeling like no one knew he even existed, much less cared.

“Hey, Hera, d’you think Renée would care if I got frozen tater tots? It’s not on the list, but they look good.” He was on a phone call with Hera, talking to her on his headphones as he walked through the store. He had become accustomed to talking with her at all hours, and the habit remained after they returned to Earth. 

“Mmmm…” she hummed for a moment, “I don't think she'd love it, with how often she complains about the way you eat, but it's for your birthday. I think she’d be fine with it.”

There was a glow in his stomach at her referring to it as his birthday. 

“You’re right. It is for my birthday.” He tossed the bag of tater tots into the shopping cart.

-

Dominik methodically taped down the wrapping paper on another gift. This one from Hera to Reneé. He had become the designated present wrapper for all those who couldn’t (or didn’t want to) wrap their own. Renée always said he was better at it than she was, so he wrapped all hers, and Hera was still working with technicians to design her own body, so he also wrapped all of hers. 

When Renée had asked to do a small Christmas celebration on Christmas Eve, and celebrate Doug’s birthday on the 25th instead, it had seemed out of character. She had always loved Christmas, and made a point to celebrate together despite them both having busy careers. When he probed her about it, sensing something beneath the desire to celebrate Doug, she explained to him, in the matter of fact tone she always took on when discussing the Hephaestus, that Hilbert’s betrayal happened on Christmas. He was more than happy to change the date of their celebration. 

He looked up at the clock. It was an hour until Renée was supposed to return from the airport with Isabel. He was supposed to have wrapped the gifts days ago, but work was always crazy and time had gotten away from him. He looked at the gifts he still had to wrap. Two from Hera to Doug, one for Christmas, one for his birthday. One from Renée to Doug, he had already wrapped the one for Doug’s birthday. One from him to Isabel.

“Hera, how far is Doug into his shopping trip?” he asked. She had been routed into the speakers in the living room, as well as into some cameras they set up in the space, so that she could take part in conversations. They had also jerry-rigged a system for her to drop in and out of the other rooms in the house. 

“He’s about halfway done if I had to guess. I’d guess he’s got a little less than 20 minutes left in the trip,” she responded.

“I should probably prioritize the ones for Doug then,” he said, and redoubled his wrapping efforts.

-

Isabel hefted her bag out of the overhead compartment in the crowded airplane. Behind her, she noticed an older man reaching up, looking uncertain. She looked towards the front of the cabin. No one was moving.

“Is that your bag?” she asked, pointing to the blue suitcase the man seemed to be reaching for.

“Yes, ma’am it is,” he said.

She grabbed it and gently set it down in front of him, “Happy Holidays.”

He smiled warmly, “Thank you miss, Happy Holidays.”

She looked back to the front of the cabin to see the line finally begin to move. 

She made her way through the airport quickly. She talked to the rest of the crew all the time, but didn't often see them in person since they had all returned to Earth.

The outside doors opened before her, and she scanned the waiting cars for the Koudelka-Minkowski black Lexus sedan. Her eyes alighted on a familiar face.

“Minkowski!” she called out with a smile, walking over, “It's good to see you.”

“Lovelace!” Minkowski hugged her tightly, and Isabel squeezed her back.

-

Hera tabbed through her files, cross referencing a list of movies she remembered Eiffel mentioning on the Hephaestus with five different review sites and several listicles. She was not reaching any easy conclusions.

She buzzed into Eiffel’s room.

“Come in,” he called.

“Hey, Doug.”

“Hey, Hera,” he said from on the bed, where he was messing with an acoustic guitar. Playing would be too strong of a word for what he was doing.

“Are you sure you want me to choose the movie we’re watching for your birthday? I feel like I don't have much of a frame of reference for what you're looking for.”

“I mean, Hera, I have less of a clue what I like than you do. I trust your judgment.”

“Right. Cool. Got it…” She continued to examine the listicles. “So what are you up to with that guitar?”

-

Renée stared through the oven door at the breaded chicken she had spent the better part of the morning slaving over, as Doug, Hera, and Lovelace argued with each other about the game of Uno they were playing in the living room. The chicken was for Doug’s birthday dinner that night and she wanted it to be perfect. Dominik had always been the better cook between the two of them, but she was no slouch on cooking either, and it felt important to make it herself.

From her left, she saw Dominik approach her. He slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’m sure it’ll be delicious, Renée,” he said, “Come sit down. You don't need to stand here the whole 15 minutes. It won't spontaneously combust if you look away.”

Eighties and nineties rock floated over from the speakers in the living room.

She leaned into his side before turning away from the oven. From the refrigerator, she grabbed some sparkling cider and distributed it into four glasses. They weren't always a house of tee-totalers, but today, they were all having non-alcoholic drinks.

“Help me carry these over, Dom,” she said, picking up two glasses.

-

“Oh man, Renée,” Doug said, patting his stomach, “That was delicious.” 

“It was no big deal,” she waved her hand dismissively, but she looked proud. “Dom, I’ll clean up after dinner, could you make popcorn.”

“No, I’ll take care of clean up,” Lovelace said, standing from her chair and collecting plates from around the table, “You cooked tonight, and Eiffel is the star of this whole shebang.”

“Thanks, Lovelace,” she said.

Doug walked over to the counter separating the living room from the kitchen and leaned on it from the living room side, as Lovelace began loading the dishwasher and Dominik added kernels to a pot.

“Have you picked our movie out yet, Hera?” he asked, looking up at one of the cameras stationed around the room. 

“I have, actually,” she said, turning on the TV.

“Great,” Renée said, walking over to stand by him. She leaned closer to him, knocking her shoulder against his. 

From his time knowing her, and the spotty memories he had of their time on the Hephaestus, he understood that she was a person who was somewhat uncomfortable with expressing physical affection. The only person that didn't seem to apply to was Dominik, which made sense. Doug was working on breaking her of that, but it was a slow process. 

They stood like that, leaning against one another, talking with Lovelace, Dominik, and Hera, as the former two bustled around the kitchen.

Lovelace finished loading the dishwasher and wiping counters quickly, and Dominik finished the popcorn not long after.

As the four of them settled into the living room, Doug, Renée, and Dominik on one couch, with Lovelace on the armchair, Doug asked “Alright, Hera, what’ve you for us?”

The TV swiftly cycled through menus to the black screen of the beginning of a movie.

“It’s a movie called Die Hard ,” she said.