Work Text:
Sorry it's not very long, mate.
Merry Christmas.
Title is a blink 182 reference.
The song Diego sings is a reference to the song 'Santa Hates Poor Kids'.
It was Christmas time again.
And yet again, Harriet Hook was expected to be nice to people she can't stand because it was the Auradon way.
The Auradon way. Ha.
Since when was Auradon nice to her people?
Since when was Auradon nice to the Isle kids?
Auradon even made sure that the isle kids wouldn't even have Santa Claus to make their lives a little better—no, instead another isle kid had to do that for them.
"Fuckin' Auradon." Harriet muttered grumpily as she plopped down in her armchair—grabbing her spiked eggnog and taking a nice long sip of it as she picked at her light blue sweater that Sammy had forced her to wear.
It had a snowman on it.
Harriet hated it.
It was a fucking ugly Snowman and an even uglier sweater that the pirate captain was going to burn the moment she was allowed to.
"Ah come on—stop being such a grinch, Capt'in." Sammy teased as he entered the room, sporting an ugly red sweater with the big man himself on it, a plate of Christmas cookies in one hand and a jug of moonshine eggnog in the other.
"Call me a grinch again and I'll cut your tongue out." Harriet threatened, but her words lacked their usual heat.
"Sure you will." Sammy rolled his eyes, smirking slightly as he set down the plate of cookies and the jug.
What an asshole.
He was the reason she had even agreed to this, didn't he know? Didn't he remember? He was the reason for her suffering.
He was the one who insisted the crew needed the morale boost.
What a joke.
"I will! I mean it!"
Sammy, the brave man he was, turned his back to her to turn on the radio to the Doomed isle Tune channel.
The Bad Apples were playing again.
When were they not?
"Santa Hates Poor Kids!
Santa Hates Poor Kids!
And if you ain't got money then he ain't comin'!"
Harriet wondered what the Auradon folk would think of Diego's music.
They'd probably hate it like they hated everything even remotely interesting—like they hated anything even remotely isle.
"I believe you."
Harriet scrunched up her nose in disgust. "Don't patrongize me, Samson."
"I'm not—I'm serious: I believe that you will definitely cut my tongue out if I sass you just as much I believed you the first sixty times you've threatened it. Eggnog?" He offered innocently, shooting her the same 'I won't scam you out of everything you own' smile he offered every one who dared to place a bet with him when croc wrestlin' season came around.
"Nothing under your tree tonight!"
Some one laughed drunkenly from the next room over.
Clay was cursing Rick out upstairs.
And somewhere further in the house, something shattered.
Sammy let out a long suffering sigh, grabbed a room from the corner, and started beating on the ceiling with it. "Hey! You break it you buy it you dirty animals!"
Harriet would be a liar if she said she didn't smile even the slightest little bit at that, snorting as she refilled her glass. Never one to turn down more alcohol, especially if Samson 'I am not going to enable your drinking problem' Smee was offering it.
God knows it'd be the only way for her to get through this night.