Forever

Red and Green

I'm leaving the storyline for a Christmas chapter, a memory from Henry's extremely long past!

---

Abe would not go to sleep.

LotThis was not noticed by Henry, who at first sat reading the newspaper he'd forgotten to read that Sunday morning. Small feet pattered past once, twice, and the third time he looked up into Abigail's eyes. She was standing over him, an exasperated look on her face, but he could see the merry light of excitement behind the grudge.

"Henry Morgan, have you stopped once to realize that your errant son is clearly having trouble falling asleep?"

"I-no? Where is he?" He scanned the room, only brought back when she sighed heavily.

"Under our bed, refusing to come out unless Santa comes early."

"But Santa doesn't-"

"He's six, Henry. Let him keep the magic." Abigail said, tugging his hand along to their room. The room was dark, and quiet, broken by a sudden giggle. Henry smiled and threw himself on the floor, looking under the bed. Nothing but darkness. Hhmm. Oh, well.

He peered back up at his wife, who was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips.

"See?"

"Abe? Come out of there now."

"Make Santa come!" Came the high-pitched reply. Henry was about to say that he didn't exist, never would, when he realized he could quite possibly ruin his son's childhood.

"He can't come, Abraham. He's still in the North Pole. We can make gingerbread houses while we wait, though."

At this, Abigail cast him a sharp look, and he motioned for her to go find some in the house. 'Gingerbread!' He mouthed, and watched her go. Abe's voice Wafter out from the depths of the bed.

"But, Daddy, I can't wait any longer. I wanna see my presents!"

"He can't bring them. Why, yours are the last one he's going to wrap."

"But that means they won't come as fast!"

"Abe, no, that means he sees you as more selfless."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you are willing to sacrifice for others." His son didn't know the meaning of that word? He would really have to work on literary skills, then. But later, he decided.

"So, my friends will get their gifts first?"

"That's right."

"But what about me?"

"They'll get here. Even if I have to march through the North Pole, they'll get here." Henry verified, turning at the sound of footsteps. Abigail stood in the doorway, with three little gingerbread men and small candies.

"What say we go and have cookies?" Henry whispered under the bed. Abe's voice whispered back.

"What kind?"

"Whatever you want."

"With candy?"

"Definitely."

"There's a catch." Henry flicked his gaze back at Abigail, grinning. He was learning, in the least.

"Oh?"

"What's the catch?"

"Go to sleep after, and maybe I can arrange something with Santa."

"Really?" A tiny face peeked out from under the bed, doubtful. "Are you sure?"

Henry shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm not gaining anything from it, and neither are you."

"What'd you ask for, Daddy?" Abe asked, crawling out from under the bed. Henry flashed a triumphant look at Abigail, teeth flashing in the darkness. She gave him a fake condescending look and moved on down the hallway.

"Your father asked Santa Claus for a puppy."

Uh-oh. Abe turned to his dad with excited eyes. "A puppy? When's it gonna get here?!"

"Let's go get some cookies." He muttered, thinking up something to frame his wife for. "Your mother asked for a pony."

The poor boy was overwhelmed. "Oooh! When is Santa bringing them?"

They were in the kitchen now, and Abigail was glaring at him. Henry sighed. This wasn't good.The creative/friendly/visious fight was on.

"Your dad asked for medical supplies."

"Medical supplies? What a lame present."

"Your mother asked for wooden clogs."

"What are those?"

"Shoes you put on your feet, but they're made of wood, see? And you have to dance in them." Henry added wryly, watching his wife think to frame him for a boring present. Abe happily covered his entire cookie with candy while he tried to do his with surgical precision. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn't notice a mint come flying through the air until it bounced off his forehead, and he startled to much his cookie crashed to the floor. Abe peered over the table and looked crushed.

"Oh, Daddy! You killed it!"

"No, no, Abe.... Your mother did." He smiled at Abigail, the kind that conveyed 'have fun'.

"Mommy, can we fix it?"

"Off the floor?..... Yes...." She looked at Henry with a look of smugness. "But we need some medical tape. Tell you what, Abe, you're red. Henry, you're green. Whoever finds the tape first gets some candy."

Abe was off in an instant.

Henry looked around the kitchen. "You dared."

"Yes, I did."

"Do you know what this means?"

"No, I do not."

"This means......." He pulled her in and kissed her, and then drew back so he could speak. "War."

"War?"

"Indeed, m'lady. War so horrific it can not be imagined by the mind of even the most crazed madman."

"Really? Hmm, yes, good luck, monsiour." She held up a mint and tossed it at him. It hit the floor somewhere behind him, and at the noise Abe came rushing in, holding up the tape.

"I found the....... Mommy? Daddy? What are you doing?"

Henry did not think French kissing in front of their son was in any way helpful, so he drew back immediately and turned his back, flushed.

"Uh- Abe! You found the tape!"

"Umm..... y-yeah..... I did....." He looked like he could barely stop laughing. Abigail brushed past Henry, depositing several pieces of candy in his hair, and while he raked them out fixed his cookie.

"Well..... Abe?" She looked around, and so did Henry. Their son was nowhere to be seen.

"Abe?"

They searched the house, and found him asleep in their bed, peacefully and quietly. Henry stared at him, not sure whether to be filled with love for his son, or disappointment over the fact that he and Abigail were not in any way done with the kissing in the kitchen. She looked at him and shrugged, grinning from ear to ear.

"I think," she began slowly as they climbed into bed with their son, " That this Christmas Eve was a great success."

Henry believed so, too.