Chapter 1: Evergreen
Chapter Text
Never worry about the size of your Christmas tree. In the eyes of children, they are all 30 feet tall. ~Larry Wilde, “The Merry Book of Christmas”
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Kip looked up from the datapad he’d been working on as the soft chime sounded, announcing the presence of a visitor to his office. “Come in,” Kip called, before saving what he’d been working on in order to be able to properly greet whoever it was. He wasn’t expecting anyone that milicycle, but he would hardly turn away someone who felt the need to talk to him.
His polite expression burst into a broad smile, though, as his visitor entered, the familiar whiskery, white-haired face smiling right back at him. “User Gibbs!”, he greeted the older man cheerfully, standing up and coming around the desk to meet him. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”
It was then that he noticed the box the User was carrying; it was white, about ½ the width and ¾ the height of the User’s torso, and seemed to be made out of a thin, somewhat flexible material. And judging by the care with which the User carried it, the contents were likely valuable, fragile, or both. “What have you got there?”, Kip asked as Gibbs set the mysterious package on Kip’s desk.
“Something I’ve been wanting to show you for awhile, Kip,” Gibbs said, smiling cheerfully as he began to carefully undo the strips of translucent material holding the box shut. “But I had to wait until they came into season, so to speak. They’re difficult to find the rest of the year.”
Curiosity piqued, Kip moved up to stand right next to Gibbs, trying to discretely peek into the box before Gibbs removed its contents. Noticing his interest, Gibbs’ smile took on a hint of mischief as he deliberately opened the box flaps in such a way as to make peeking difficult. Kip gave him a brief look of mild, good natured annoyance at the delay, but the look vanished abruptly, an expression of quiet wonder replacing it as Gibbs unpacked the box’s contents and set it down in front of Kip on the desk.
The base was circular, fairly solid, and wrapped in a flimsy, crinkly substance colored metallic red and silver, but that wasn’t what caught Kip’s gaze. What made him stare, mouth hanging slightly open, was what extended upward from the base. A vaguely conical brush of green, minute bristles soft to the touch as he unconsciously reach out to stroke his fingertips over it. It gave slightly under his touch, supple and flexible, and he gradually became aware that it also gave off a faint, pleasant scent that he couldn’t identify.
“It’s a tree,” Gibbs said, his voice almost startling Kip. Somewhat reluctantly, Kip tore his eyes from the tree to give the User his attention. “An evergreen. Douglas fir, if I’m not mistaken. I’ll have to take it back to my own world when I leave, but I wanted you to see it, given how interested you are in them.”
“I-”, Kip started, before trailing off awkwardly, unable to properly classify or express all of what he was feeling at the moment. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and tried again. “This is just… Wow. Thank you, User Gibbs.” Gibbs just smiled broadly at Kip’s gratitude as the updater returned his gaze to the tree- the living, biological tree, not a jpg image or a description- that sat on his desk.
“Of course,” Gibbs continued, “this one is only a seedling; a very young tree. I’d like to be able to show you the fully grown variety someday, but for now, it had to be something portable.”
The only reply Kip made was a vague nod, and Gibbs wondered if Kip had even really heard him. He needed only to look at Kip’s face, transfixed by wonder as he stroked the seedling’s delicate needles with his fingertips, to be able to tell that the size of the tree didn’t disappoint the young program in the slightest. At this point, he only hoped that Kip would be willing to part with the tree when he had to take it back home. “Merry Christmas, Kip,” Gibbs said quietly, smiling gently as the young program gazed in awe at his first Christmas tree.
Chapter 2: Christmas Cookies
Notes:
This ficlet takes place in tehkittykat's "Bedtime Stories" fic-verse. Its canonicity in said verse is completely up to her, though.
Chapter Text
The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other. ~Burton Hillis
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Christmastime at the Baines-Bradley house was not what most would call ‘normal’. Though that was par for the course when one’s family and houseguests included not only some of Encom’s best and brightest programmers (most of whom darn well knew it), but also their programs. Inviting them to spend Christmas in the User world had been Kevin’s idea (one of his better ones, Lora thought), and while all involved seemed to be enjoying themselves, the logistics of having so many people in the house at such a busy time of year had proved to be an adventure.
Especially when half of them were unfamiliar with even the idea of Christmas, thus prompting seemingly endless questions and misunderstandings about nearly every aspect of the holiday. Tron had expressed his concerns about the potential security risks of an unknown User coming down the chimney in the middle of the night. Thankfully, Jet and Sam had managed to talk him out of camping out in front of the living room fireplace on the 24th, which was a mercy; neither of the boys had ever managed to stay awake long enough to see their parents setting out the gifts, but Tron was a whole other story. Lora was not ready to try and explain the fact that Sana Claus wasn’t real and the reason behind the mythos to both her biological son and her adopted digital one.
Then there was Clu, who’d spend half of his first day there fussing with the decorations, trying to get them just right and driving everyone else to distraction in the process, until Jalen had finally had enough and convinced him to sit down and watch “It’s A Wonderful Life”. Sam and Jet had consented to join the adults only after Flynn had promised that they’d watch the Grinch next. They’d enjoyed both, as it turned out, though the movies had prompted even more questions.
Even Ram had gotten into the act, insisting on helping them with their holiday budget. Which was all well and good up to a point, but having to explain to an actuarial program that a certain amount of reckless overspending in the name of good cheer was practically a Christmas tradition had proved more difficult than expected.
All of which was part of why Lora was glad to be able to escape into the relatively mundane act of cookie baking. It wasn’t something she did often, but it had always been a tradition in her family to have fresh baked cookies at Christmas, a tradition she had no intention of breaking. Thus, it wasn’t long before the smell of baking gingerbread was wafting through the house.
Sam and Jet had been expected guests, but a promise to let them help decorate the cookies once they’d cooled was enough to send them on their way while she pulled the corresponding batch of sugar cookie dough out of the fridge. The smell of baking cookies was apparently just as enticing to programs, though, as the next person to wander into the kitchen was Tron.
“Something smells good,” he commented by way of a greeting. Then, noticing the bowls, ingredients, and cooking utensils scattered about the kitchen counter, he asked, “Are you making something?”
“Mm-hmm,” Lora confirmed a bit distractedly as she rolled out the dough onto a large, flour dusted cutting board. “Christmas cookies.”
“Christmas cookies,” Tron repeated. “So they’re cookies… with Christmas in them?”, he asked uncertainly. That didn’t sound right, somehow, but he’d already learned that chocolate chip cookies were called such because they contained chocolate chips. Perhaps the same was true here.
Lora just chuckled, though. “No, they’re cookies made for Christmas,” she corrected him. “The ones that are baking right now are gingerbread. These will be sugar cookies. We roll out the dough, then cut Christmas shapes out of it with those.” She indicated several cookie cutters in the shapes of a star, a Christmas tree, a gingerbread man, a snowflake, a candy cane, and a wreath. “Then later, once they’re baked and have had time to cool, we decorate them.”
Tron picked up the gingerbread man cookie cutter and examined it curiously. After a moment of watching him, Lora asked, “Would you like to cut a few, Tron?” Tron glanced up at her with a faintly sheepish expression, as though he’d just been caught doing something he wasn’t really supposed to, but nodded. Lora showed him how to cut the shapes out of the dough and transfer them to the baking sheet without distorting the shapes. It took him a few tries, but soon the program’s natural dexterity asserted itself and he seemed to get the hang of it.
The oven timer went off, and Lora left him to cookie cutting for a moment while she pulled the gingerbread cookies out of the oven, setting the cookie sheet on a wire rack to cool. It was about then that Ram wandered in apparently also attracted by the smell of gingerbread. “Oh, hey, Christmas cookies!”, he said upon seeing both the cooling treats and the as yet unbaked ones that Tron was cutting. Tron gave him a look of friendly annoyance at his apparently superior knowledge, but Ram merely grinned cheekily. “Hey, if you spent less time hanging out with Clu and more time watching Christmas specials with me and Jet…”
“Unlike you, I still have responsibilities to the Grid while I’m here,” Tron replied a bit stiffly, though Lora caught the glint of amusement in his eyes. “And more important things to do than sit around watching video files with betas.”
“Oh, like cutting cookie shapes and setting up security precautions against Santa Claus?”, Ram replied with a smirk of amusement, causing Tron to give him a look of mock-annoyance in return. “Seriously, Tron, keeping up with your function is great and all, but this is supposed to be time off. Now are you gonna watch ‘The Year Without a Santa Claus’ tonight with us willingly, or do I have to make you?”
“Cheeky little calculator,” Tron grumped. “I’d like to see you try.” But both Lora and Ram saw the smile tugging at the corner of his lips and knew the point had been won.
Jalen appeared in the doorway a moment later carrying two empty mugs, pausing a moment at the unexpectedly busy kitchen. “You need something, Jalen?”, Lora asked politely.
“Ah, yes,” he said indicating the two mugs. “I was going to get Clu and myself some more hot chocolate, but I didn’t expect it to be so busy in here. Also, Tron,” the security program glanced up as his name was mentioned, “Clu wants to speak to you when you have a moment.”
“Actually,” Ram said, “I was just leaving. I’ll see you later, Tron.” With a slight wink at Tron to indicate when and where he’d better see him, Ram left, though not before nicking several cooling gingerbread cookies from the tray.
Lora laughed and threw a dishtowel at the actuarial program’s retreating back. “You could at least wait til they’re cool, you know!”, she called after him. The only response was a giggle that sounded as though it were muffled by a mouth full of cookie, and Lora shook her head as she moved to retrieve the dishtowel.
Before she could even turn around to help Jalen with the hot chocolate, though, - neither Clu nor Ram seemed to enjoy coffee at all, proving that their were some differences between User and program, but all of the programs seemed to have developed mild chocolate addictions during their brief stints in the User world- Flynn and Roy came through, clearly on their way out, judging by the jackets they wore. “Ah, great!”, Flynn said snagging a gingerbread man.
“Flynn!”, Lora exclaimed with fond exasperation. “What did I just say?”
Flynn smiled around a mouthful of gingerbread, but at least had the courtesy to wait til he’d swallowed before replying. “Sorry, Lora, no time,” he said. “Roy and I’ve got a few last things to finish up at Encom before the holiday.” With that he grinned and grabbed another cookie before ducking out of the way of Lora’s attempt to smack him with the towel with a laugh and heading for the door.
Lora shook her head in mock disgust before turning back to Roy, who at the very least was waiting patiently, though still smiling in amusement. “Well, go ahead,” she said with a sigh, torn between amusement and exasperation herself, and gestured to the half-cooled cookies. “You might as well.”
Roy grinned and snagged a few star shaped ones. “Thanks,” he said. “We shouldn’t be gone too long.”
“Just be sure you’re back before dinner,” Lora said. “It’ll be early, since the pizza places will all be closing sooner than normal for the holiday.” Roy gave a mock salute before vanishing out the door in Flynn’s wake.
The microwave dinged and Jalen carefully poured the now heated milk over the hot chocolate mix. “There enough there for a third cup?”, Tron asked, looking up from where he was placing the last candy cane cookie on the sheet.
“Should be,” Jalen commented, pulling a third mug out of the cupboard and an extra pack of hot cocoa mix out of the box.
Tron took a moment to wipe the flour off his hands before moving to fix his own hot chocolate. “Should probably see what Clu wants to talk about then,” he said, lips quirking into a small amused smirk. “Given that I seem to have an appointment later.”
“Oh?”, Jalen asked. “With who?”
“Ram, Sam, Jet, and a video file,” Tron replied as they headed out of the room. “Should be interesting.” Lora didn’t even attempt to stop them as they each snagged a cookie while walking by, just rolling her eyes slightly at their backs.
“There won’t be any left for Sam and Jet to decorate at this rate,” she sighed as she moved stick the sheet of sugar cookies in the oven. She then paused a moment, leaning against the counter to catch her breath.
“Never a dull moment, is there?”, a very familiar voice asked from the doorway. She smiled as Alan walked in, leaning in for a quick kiss.
“Nope,” she agreed with a little chuckle as they settled, leaning against the counter with his arm around her shoulder. “But you know what? Somehow, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Yeah,” Alan agreed.
Lora smiled and handed him a gingerbread man, taking a tree shaped cookie for herself. “Merry Christmas, Alan,” she said.
“Merry Christmas,” he replied. And they raised their cookies in a mock toast before taking a bite. No, Christmas at the Baines-Bradley household could hardly be called normal. But normal, they had found, was vastly overrated.
Chapter 3: From the Realm of the Invisible
Chapter Text
The message of Christmas is that the visible material world is bound to the invisible spiritual world. ~Author Unknown
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“What is all this?”, Aloo asked, looking at the collection of odd objects they’d been asked to digitize. No less than five colorful boxes of varying sizes and shapes sat on the receiving platform, along with a container of what looked like small, equally colorful crystals of some sort, formed into somewhat lumpy ovals.
“I don’t know,” Ari replied, gazing at the mysterious objects from the realm of the Users with the same fascination as her sisters. “And you’re sure there was no return tag attached to any of the files?”
“I’m sure,” Nira confirmed. “That’s why I told Yori about it in the first place. It struck me as odd. Nothing Lora_2 or Gibbs_W has ever asked us to digitize has lacked a return tag before.”
“But it wasn’t either one of them who sent the command,” Aloo said.
“It wasn’t?”, Ari asked surprised. “Then who did?”
“The User who sent the command was named K_Flynn,” Aloo relied. “Yori was very excited about it when I told her, and went off to get her mate as soon as the final task was complete.”
“Tron?”, Nira asked, and Aloo nodded. “Does she think these things pose some sort of security threat?” A murmur of wariness rippled through the gathered programs at the words ‘security threat’, their younger sisters- a few of them only a few cycles out of beta- whispering among themselves in binary as they discussed what their three eldest code-sisters were talking about.
“I don’t think so,” Ari said. “Why would a User send something that would threaten us? More likely, she just thinks Tron would want to see something from the User World. You know how he is, and the things we‘re asked to digitize so rarely stay here long enough to show off.”
The three of them smiled fondly at the mention of their sister’s mate, exchanging amused glances. A few giggles and amused pings were heard from their gathered sisters as well. Tron was so serious sometimes, but when it came to the Users, especially his own User, the short time he’d been out of beta clearly showed.
“And speaking of…”, Nira said, as they all simultaneously received the ping from Yori, the small crowd of programs parting to allow Yori and the tall security program access to the platform. Tron nodded and sent a polite ping of greeting to Yori’s code-sisters before turning his attention to the platform.
“Here they are, Tron,” Yori said, gesturing to the odd collection of objects that sat there. “Just like I said.”
“And you’re sure they’re from Flynn?”, Tron asked, crouching down to examine them more closely.
“Positive,” Yori said. “The User who sent the command was K_Flynn; it had to be him.”
“What are you two talking about?”, Aloo asked.
“It’s… a long story,” Tron replied. And rather unbelievable; he‘d have doubted it himself, if he hadn‘t been there. “Yori can give you the details later, but Flynn was one of the Users who helped us take down the MCP.”
Carefully, Tron picked up the nearest box, turning it this way and that, and examining it before he noticed a small flag on one corner. He looked more closely at the tiny data bit, and blinked in surprise. “It’s tagged with your name, Yori,” he said.
“My name?”, Yori echoed and she crouched down beside him. Tron nodded and handed over the box. “Why would it be tagged with my name?”
“I don’t know…”, Tron said picking up the next box to examine it. When he did so, however, a tiny text fill that had been attached to the back of the box, out of view, fell off and fluttered to the floor. “What’s this?” Tron set the box back down and retrieved the file, opening it. Yori and her sisters leaned in close, trying to get a look at it themselves.
“'Hey there, Tron, Yori, and everyone,'” Tron read aloud. For their benefit. “'Sorry for the unconventional method of contact, but I had to sneak down here during the office Christmas party to do this without Lora asking too many questions. Anyway, you probably don’t know much about it, but in my world right now we’re celebrating a holiday where you give gifts to your friends. So I figured, why not share the love with my friends on the inside? There’s a present there for you, Tron, plus ones for Yori, Ram -I know Roy recompiled him recently-, and Dumont, and one for both you and Yori together. The candy you can divey up however you like. Merry Christmas, guys! Hope you’re all doing great. I’ll be in touch. Signed, Flynn'”
“So they’re gifts for us?”, Yori said, examining the one tagged to her, unable to help being slightly awed at what she held. “From the User world?” That sent a ripple of excited and awed murmurs and pings through the group of Yori’s sisters.
“Apparently so,” Tron said. “I’m not certain what exactly he meant by ‘Merry Christmas’, but if it’s something that Users believe is worth celebrating, who are we to judge? We’ll make sure Ram and Dumont get theirs later, but for now,” he smiled, locating the box tagged with his own name, “it seems you and I have some gifts to open.”
Chapter 4: Baked to Perfection
Summary:
Sequel of sorts to the title ficlet. Clu attempts to build a gingerbread house after eating an entire tube of frosting. Hilarity ensues. Maybe.
Notes:
This also takes place in tehkittykat's "Bedtime Stories" verse, but once again, its canonicity in said verse is entirely up to her.
Chapter Text
The perfect Christmas tree? All Christmas trees are perfect! ~Charles N. Barnard
It had started as a way to creatively use up the left-over gingerbread dough. Lora didn’t want to just make another batch of cookies, and thus had instead decided to try something she hadn’t done before and make a gingerbread house. She’d thought it would be a fun Christmas Eve activity for the whole family to participate in, with the added bonus of creating both a centerpiece and desert for Christmas dinner the next day.
She hadn’t counted on accidentally dozing off half way through “The Year Without a Santa Claus”, and not waking up for a good hour and a half. She mentally cursed as she saw the clock on the wall. They were going to have to hustle now, if they wanted to get things done before Sam and Flynn had to go home, as it was only Roy and the programs who were staying over. The Baines-Bradley house was big, but it wasn’t that big, and besides, Sam had refused to be absent from his own house when Santa came, lest Santa not be able to find him and deliver his presents.
But just as she was about to start hustling everyone to the kitchen, she noticed that someone was apparently already in there, given that the light was on and she could see someone moving around. Taking a mental inventory of the people whose locations she knew off the top of her head, she narrowed it down to Flynn and Clu. Alan and Roy were sitting on the couch, looking over what, at a glance looked like some code printouts. Sam, Jett, Tron, and Ram were seated on various cushions and beanbag chairs, now watching “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” for what had to be the fourth time that season, Sam and Jet pointing out relevant details to Tron as the movie progressed. Jalen was sitting on one of the recliners, half watching the movie, half reading a book. And she herself was in the other recliner.
Getting up and stretching a bit, she headed for the kitchen, intent on seeing who was in there. What she saw when she got there, however, froze her stock-still in the kitchen doorway for a moment. The table was a mess of scattered candies, frosting tubs and tubes, several butter knives, gingerbread crumbs, and half-completed gingerbread house. And working on it was a slightly manic-looking Clu who was using a ruler to measure a still unattached gingerbread panel, muttering calculations to himself as he worked. He frown in dissatisfaction at the gingerbread panel, looking between the partially completed gingerbread house and the diagram image she’d hunted up, before taking one of the butter knives and carefully shaving a bit of gingerbread off one edge of the panel then measuring it again. He didn’t even seem to realize that Lora was there.
“Clu?” she asked, stepping into the kitchen proper. He jumped slightly in surprise, but only glanced her way before returning to work. “What are you doing?”
“Making a gingerbread house,” Clu replied without looking up. “The diagram is rather imprecise, but I believe I’ve calculated how to achieve the desired result detailed in the final image. The provided materials need adjusting, though…” And with that he went back to muttering to himself, measuring another edge of the gingerbread panel.
Lora raised an eyebrow, though a bit of concern was creeping into her expression as well. Clu was looking far too much like Flynn sometimes did after 30+ hour coding sessions when he was running on little more than caffeine and stubbornness, though she knew for a fact that Clu hadn’t been awake that long. The reason for his seemingly manic state was revealed, however, when she took a closer look at the collection of frosting tubes and tubs on the table. She’d gotten several different tubes of colorful decorators frosting for the cookie making today, as well as both white and chocolate. The chocolate tube, not needed for the gingerbread house, was squeezed nearly flat, and a few of the tubs were open and had greater amounts than she could account for missing. Ah, that could explain it…
“Clu, honey,” she said, speaking gently, and as thought she was talking to Sam or Jet, “how much frosting did you eat?”
"There was...the tube was...mostly… full?” Clu said, glancing up from his work again to frown in confusion at her question. “Correct to three decimal places, not allowing floating points."
Lora almost chuckled, but refrained, because Clu was quite serious. “I think you should sit down for a moment, Clu,” she said. Having inherited Flynn’s ability to focus laser-sharp on a task when needed was a double edged sword when combined with Clu’s directive towards perfection, and Lora felt that it was probably a good idea to try and break him out of this obsessive state before he got too deeply into it.
“But I’m not even close to finished yet,” Clu said. “I’m going to need to make a lot more adjustments if the finished product is going to match the diagram exactly. First the panels need sized and fitted, the precise amount of frosting cement must be applied, then once the frame is complete, the gumdrops need shaped and cut to size, the chocolate wafers need their edges smoothed, the-“
“Clu,” Lora interrupted gently, “you don’t have to do all that. We’re all going to build the gingerbread house together, as a family. Though you have gotten it off to a good start.”
“I…. But…” Clu said, looking at the ruler and butter knife in his hands, then back up to Lora, looking slightly lost. “It needs to be perfect. And that takes precision and care and…”
“Clu,” Lora said again, this time a bit more firmly, though she gently reached around to take the knife and ruler from his hands. He didn’t resist. “It will be perfect. Even if it doesn’t match the diagram exactly.”
“I’m… not sure I follow,” Clu said. Lora was somewhat relieved that his focus seemed to have resettled on her for the time being. “If it doesn’t precisely match the given example how can it be called perfect?”
“It’ll be perfect,” Lora said, setting the knife and ruler down on the counter, “because we all made it together. Corny as it might sound, it’s true. Whether or not it comes out precisely according to plan doesn’t matter; whether we all did our best and made a good memory together is. And that memory will certainly outlast the gingerbread house, no matter how well constructed it might be.” She smiled a bit. “Especially given that we’re going to be eating it tomorrow.”
“What?” Clu asked, somewhat incredulous. “Why go to all this trouble, if we’re just going to break it apart and consume it?”
“Well, the only other option is to keep it around til it got moldy or stale, then throw it away,” Lora said with a shrug. “Besides, as I said, it’s not so much the physical result that matters; it’s the memory and the fun we all have doing it. That’s what’ll last.”
“So,” Clu said, after processing that for a few moments, ”…it’s a bonding activity, rather than construction project?”
Lora nodded, smiling a bit. “Exactly.”
She was about to continue, when another familiar voice was heard in the doorway. “Lora? Clu?”, Flynn asked, looking between them and the various edible construction materials strewn across the table. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Lora said. “Except discovering that Clu shouldn’t be left unsupervised around chocolate frosting.” Flynn just looked confused, and Lora chuckled. “Never mind. Just go get everyone else so we can get started on the gingerbread house. I’ll explain later.”
“You better,” Flynn said, smirking in amusement. He turned and headed back to the living room without further protest, though they heard him muttering to himself just before heading out of earshot. “Figures… Get up to go to the bathroom, come back and things have gotten weird. Well, weirder than usual, anyway…”
Lora just smirked herself and marshalled Clu to help tidy up the candies and gingerbread panels a bit before the others came in. Just another Christmas memory in the Baines-Bradley household.

Allronix on Chapter 2 Sat 28 Sep 2013 01:02PM UTC
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Pirateweasel on Chapter 4 Mon 23 Dec 2013 05:39AM UTC
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