#decfanfic

After the war, one that Steve still didn’t know he survived (all he remembered was the last seconds on the plane and then waking up in the middle of a random field to Diana’s relieved face), he and Diana stayed in London. He had thought she would go back to Themyscira, a fear that hadn’t completely left him, but she chose to remain.

“I want to see what people do when they are not at war,” she told him, taking his hand.

And how could he refuse that kind of offer?

Their first year together passed by quickly, with them adjusting to post war life, grasping whatever normalcy one could after having been through what they had. Of course, Diana wanted to assist in the post-war efforts and Steve was never far behind her (as long as he lived, he knew he would always follow her wherever she went).

Of course, he also did his best to fulfill the promises, making breakfast together, enjoying their nights in bed (and sometimes days), just doing things two people in a relationship would do. Or so Steve assumed. it was always a relief not having to rush to leave the next morning, worried about bombings and Ares.

When the first snow blanketed the city, Diana was still as enthralled as she was the first time. She was particularly delighted with the little children out and about, playing with snow, and her curiosity at what they were doing led to him explaining to her what a snowman was.

“A snowman?” she asked, eyebrows furrowing. “Only a man can be made of snow?”

“Or I guess, it could be a snow woman,” he said quickly. “Or whatever. We can make one, if you would like.”

Turned out she did, and they proceeded to do just that; watching her glowing, her dark eyes sparkling with delight as she gave her snow woman a scarf made Steve grin from ear to ear, completely besotted and unable to believe he had ever lived his life without her in it..

“What are they doing?” Diana wanted to know, pointing to the group throwing snowballs at one another.

“Well,” he started, beginning to make a snowball. “I think it would be easier to demonstrate.” She turned around faster than he had planned and the snowball he threw at her hit her directly in the face, causing her to sputter.

“Steve!” she exclaimed.

“Whoops?” he said sheepishly. “That was meant to hit your back.”

Raising an eyebrow, she slowly began to gather snow. “You do, of course, realize that was an act of war? I am in my right to retaliate at will.”

“Well, I was never one to run away from war,” Steve joked, and before he could make a second snowball, her perfect aim had him nailed in the face, the same spot he had her for her.

“Oh, now it’s definitely war,” Steve declared, shaking the snow off, running to make more snowballs.

From there, the game was on, the two of them chasing after each other, snow flying everywhere. A small part of Steve’s mind was aware they probably looked ridiculous, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Finally, he slipped and she tackled him right into the snow, falling right on top of him.

“I got you,” she said proudly, leaning to kiss him. Right as their lips were about to meet, she pulled a snowball from behind her back, dropping it under his shirt, causing him to sputter as the cold hit him.

“Diana!” he protested, shivering a little.

“I win,” she replied smugly.

“Now what will you do?” he asked, amused.

“Now I shall claim my prize,” she declared.

He couldn’t help laughing at her expression, but welcomed her kiss as always, wrapping his arms around her back to pull her closer.

When Clark was six years old, he learned how to make hot chocolate from his dad. His mom had been looking tired for the last day or so, and even he had noticed.

“How about we cheer mommy up?” his dad suggested, after he had sent her off to get some much needed rest.

“Yeah!” Clark said enthusiastically, and accompanied his dad into the kitchen.

“What do you say we make some hot chocolate?” Jonathan said, and Clark’s blue-green eyes grew wide, nodding quickly.

“I like hot chocolate!” he declared. He frowned a little as he watched Jonathan take out ingredients that seemed different from what his mom used, including a chocolate bar. “That’s not how mommy makes it.”

“You like mommy’s hot chocolate?” Jonathan asked.

“Yeah, it’s the best,” Clark confirmed happily.

“Mommy does everything the best, doesn’t she?” Jonathan replied, fondly, letting out a chuckle at Clark’s very serious nod. “Well, we’re going to try something a little different.”

“Okay,” he said, a little reluctantly.

“This is a secret family recipe,” Jonathan explained. “My dad taught me how to make it and now I will teach it to you.”

“Is it hard?’ Clark wanted to know.

“No,” Jonathan replied. “This takes a little longer, so you can save it for special occasions, but let me tell you something, son: when you love someone, it won’t seem like work at all.”

Clark took that all in. “How do we make it? Can I help?”

“You sure can,” Jonathan agreed, as he chopped the chocolate into small pieces. “Do you know where the marshmallows are?”

“I do!” Clark ran off, only slowing down at Jonathan’s reminder, and retrieved it from the cabinet where he remembered his mom putting it the last time. Bringing the bag to him, he saw that Jonathan was distracted, so he opened it and popped one in his mouth. And then another. After that, a third. Definitely good.

“I hope you’re saving some for the cocoa,” Jonathan remarked, and Clark’s eyes widened. How did he know?

Swallowing, he grinned. “Yeah, I did.”

Jonathan looked over and smiled. “All right, now let’s get you up here.” He lifted up Clark and placed him on a free spot on the counter. “Now, this is the trick. First you have to microwave the chocolate, so that we don’t get any lumps. Cocoa powder is fine but nothing beats a good chocolate bar. You have to chop it up and melt it slowly though, so it doesn’t burn-”

From there, Jonathan went on to explain the recipe and how to make it. Clark watched, mostly quietly, though he did throw out a question here and there, which Jonathan was more than happy to answer.

When they were finished, he separated it into three mugs, mixing in a few more ingredients, what Clark would later learn was half and half, vanilla, and for the adults, bourbon. He let Clark add the marshmallows, before topping it off with whip cream, and sprinkles for Clark.

“What did you add in for you and mommy?” Clark asked curiously.

“That, I will tell you when you’re older,” Jonathan said, lifting him up to set him down once more. “I think you’ll like the sprinkles more.”

“I like sprinkles,” Clark said, still wanting answers, but willing to let it go, because he wanted his drink more. “Do we drink it now?”

“It will be hot,” Jonathan responded, setting the cups on a tray. “How about we take these to mommy?”

Clark readily followed him out of the kitchen into the living room, where it turned out Martha now was, sitting on the couch with a magazine.

“I thought you were going to lie down,” Jonathan said, eyebrows furrowing, as they approached her.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Martha explained. “What do you have there?”

“Hot chocolate!” Clark was eager to say. “Daddy made it. I helped!”

“I’m sure you did a great job, sweetie,” Martha said, smiling warmly, as she accepted the cup Jonathan gave her. Clark got his own cup as well, and eagerly took a sip, wrinkling his nose as he got whipped cream on it, causing his parents to laugh.

“What do you think?” Jonathan asked.

“It’s good, daddy,” Clark confirmed, wiping his nose. Different than his mommy’s, but it tasted yummy and Clark did like it.

“It’s very good,” Martha agreed. “Just what I needed.”

“Looks like we did a good job,” Jonathan said, offering his hand for a high five. “We make quite the team, buddy.”

“Yeah!” Clark said, meeting his hand, with his own. “The best team!” Seeing his mommy smile again made his chest feel all warm and happy.

It was a feeling and a memory Clark would always look back on fondly in the years to come, though it happened less and less as he got older. After his dad’s death, it was bittersweet to think about it at all.

Only when he was in his own apartment, one he shared with Lois, and perusing through the old cookbooks trying to figure out dinner, did he find that old scrap of paper, and in his dad’s familiar scrawl, he saw a hot chocolate recipe, and it brought him straight back to his childhood. All he could feel now was happiness as well as gratitude to have had those memories and such a loving family, because he knew that it all could’ve been much different.

Hearing a door slam, he set the book down, and headed towards the sound, immediately greeted by his annoyed looking wife.

“Ugh, what a day,” Lois said, visibly exasperated as she kicked off her heels. “You are lucky you got out of there earlier. If I hear one more ‘no we can’t’ or get a story canned because some asshole has enough money to cover up evidence, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

“Please don’t do anything to get arrested,” Clark requested, amusement evident in his tone and expression.

“No promises,” Lois replied. “Will you come help me escape if I do?”

“Always,” Clark told her, as he leaned forward to kiss her quickly. “Why don’t you take it easy?” I will go order some takeout. Chinese?”

“Please,” Lois said, taking a seat. “I need some kung pao chicken in my life stat.”

“I will get some extra dumplings too,” Clark promised, enjoying the way Lois’s face lit up.

“I knew I kept you around for a reason,” Lois proclaimed.

“I do my best,” Clark responded, amused, and went back to the kitchen, reaching for his phone and a menu to Lois’s favorite Chinese restaurant. Once the order was placed, his eyes drifted back toward the book thoughtfully, as he suddenly had an idea.

“Just going to step out for a second, Lois,” he called out. “I think I heard something.” When he heard her acknowledge it, he quickly left, using the excuse to go out the side window, and making sure to return as quickly as possible, bag full of necessary ingredients.

Consulting the recipe and what he had of the memory, he worked to make the hot chocolate. His dad has made it a few times over the years, but Clark had never tried on his own or had made it for anyone else.

It wasn’t very hard after all, but even if it was a slow process, he had definitely found someone who was worth it anyway. Hopefully, she would like it. Adding the bourbon and the toppings, Clark tried to make it look as appealing as possible.

“Something smells good in there, Smallville,” Lois called out, and he hid a smile. Taking the two cups, he made his way to her, handing her one when they were face to face.

“What is that?” Lois asked, accepting the mug.

“Hot chocolate,” he replied.

“Looks great,” Lois said, and once she took a sip, she made a noise of appreciation. “Tastes better. Where did you learn to make this?”

“My dad taught me,” he said, sitting next to her, with his own cup. “He used to make it for my mom when she was feeling down.”

Her expression softened, holding a touch of wistfulness at the mention of his dad. She had always gotten along with his parents, and he knew that Lois probably missed Jonathan as well. Sometimes, he wondered what his dad would’ve thought of the two of them ending up together; more often than that, he wished Jonathan would’ve been there to see it. He would’ve loved to have Lois as a daughter in law.

“And my whining inspired you to make it?” Lois teased, returning him to the present. She “mmm’d” as she continued to drink from her mug, and Clark felt pleased at her obvious enjoyment.

“Something like that,” Clark chuckled.

“What’s your secret?” Lois wanted to know. “I always get lumps with the cocoa powder.”

“No cocoa powder in it,” he replied. “I can show you, if you want.”

“It’s not some secret family recipe?” Lois joked.

“Actually, it is,” Clark admitted. “But you’re family, so I think it’s allowed.”

Her eyes went bright. “Yeah, that is true.” She paused for a moment. “Then again, if I don’t know how to make it, I can have you continue to do it for me.”

“As if I wouldn’t do that already,” Clark countered, grinning as she let out a laugh in agreement.

“And you can also be responsible for passing on the recipe when we have kids,” Lois added, snuggling closer and resting her head on his shoulder once she had finished.

His heart skipped a beat at the ease Lois talked about potential children; it wouldn’t be the first time, but the certainty always made him feel good.

“That I can do,” he agreed, setting aside his own cup once he was done as well. “Do you feel better?”

“Yup,” Lois said, closing her eyes. “You always make me feel better.”

“I’m glad,” Clark commented, pressing a kiss on top of her head.

“Thanks for the hot chocolate,” Lois murmured.

“Any time, Lois,” he replied softly. “Any time.”

To make her happy, it was the least he would do.

“Daddy! I can’t move!”

Clark raised an eyebrow, stopping his task of lacing up his daughter’s boots. Once she realized she had his attention, she tried to wiggle her arms, which were currently covered in a puffy jacket to protect her from the cold that would engulf her small body when they stepped outside their apartment, in emphasis of her point.

“See?” Ella said, pouting. “I need to make a snowman. And a snow angel!”

“I’m sure you will be able to make many of them,” Clark assured her, grinning. “But you won’t be able to make any if you turn into a little Ella-icicle.”

She wrinkled her nose and giggled. “Daddy, people can’t turn into icicles! That was just in the movie!”

He shook his head at her ‘Frozen’ reference (they had been going through a Disney movie phase), but before he could respond, they were joined by a new voice.

“Gone a little overboard there, Smallville? It’s not even snowing anymore.”

Clark glanced over as his wife came down the hallway, joining them in the living room.

“It’s going to be cold, and even more so in Smallville!” he protested, as he finished up with Ella’s boots, before she had the chance to run off. “I don’t want her to get sick.”

“Of course you don’t,” Lois responded fondly. “All right, you heard him, sweetie. Jacket stays on.”

His daughter sighed dramatically, something Clark was convinced she got from her mother, though Lois would probably say otherwise.

“Fine,” Ella said finally. “Can we get hot chocolate before we go to grandma’s?”

There was a stand about a block away from their apartment that Ella loved and the lady running it had a soft spot for his daughter, so she always got extra marshmallows and sometimes a cookie. Clark made sure to tip well.

“We will see,” Clark said, his lips twitching into a smile. Lois smirked next to him, because they both knew he would definitely cave and go.

“Okay,” Ella replied, accepting it easily. After a pause, she said slowly, “Daddy?”

“Yes, Ella?” he said automatically.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she informed him, and he dropped his head, as Lois let out a laugh.

“Of course you do,” he said wryly. “All right, let’s get all this off.” Within a couple of minutes, he helped her get out of her boots and two layers. There goes the last ten minutes. She was off, running down the hallway, once she was free, and he got to his feet, looking at Lois.

“Not a word,” he warned.

“I didn’t say anything,” Lois said, faux innocently.

“She is definitely your child,” Clark pointed out, and Lois just looked even more smug. Taking a glance over at her, he realized she was still in her leggings and one of his old flannel shirts. “I thought you were going to go get ready.”

“I have time,” Lois told him. Gesturing to the discarded layers, she added, “And suddenly, I have much more time, considering you have to get all that back on again.”

“I appreciate your support,” Clark retorted dryly, but he couldn’t actually bring himself to be upset.

“That’s what I’m here for,” Lois said, wrapping her arms around his neck and he settled his own hands on her waist. “It’s okay, Smallville, we all know Ella had you wrapped around her little finger since day 1.”

“Earlier probably,” Clark admitted. “Something that she definitely got from her mother.”

“Who, me?” Lois teased. “Are you complaining?”

“Definitely not,” Clark replied, meeting her lips in a quick kiss. “If she turns out exactly like you, nothing could make me happier.”

“That goes both ways,” Lois told him, one hand caressing his cheek. “For Ella and all our other future children.”

“Future children?” he repeated. “Are you trying to tell me something?” When he saw her raised eyebrow, his eyes widened in realization. “Wait, really?”

“Turns out that stomach bug wasn’t exactly a bug,” Lois confessed. “Looks like the family is getting a bit bigger.”

Clark was dazed and he could only stare at Lois with awe. “You’re … we’re … this is great!” He hugged Lois tightly. “I’m so happy.”

“You are?” Lois asked, into his shoulder.

“Of course,” he said instantly. “I love you. I love Ella, and I will love any other kids we have.”

Her whole face softened. “I love you too.”

Their lips met in another kiss, and as they pulled away, they were interrupted by a yell.

“Daddy! I can’t find my bunny!”

“Looks like duty calls,” Lois said. “The first born demands attention.”

“She will be happy,” Clark noted. “She has been asking for a sibling for a while. Though we might have to wait to tell her, because she will want it immediately.”

“That she might get from me,” Lois admitted, drawing a laugh from Clark.”All right, go attend to your daughter.”

The two of them headed back down the hallway, Lois leaving to get changed to go, and Clark going to help Ella, truly feeling like he was floating on air.

They did end up leaving later than planned, but Ella got her hot chocolate and Lois didn’t even make too many jokes when it ended up being slightly warmer than expected and they had to ditch a layer in the car.

As Clark looked over at his (growing) family, he couldn’t ask for anything else.

He was definitely the luckiest man ever.

Oliver groaned, as he fell for what felt like the millionth time in the last ten minute (it was actually three).

“Are you okay?” Clark asked, skating over toward him, with an ease that had Ollie slightly jealous.

“Ask me tomorrow,” Oliver grumbled. He was definitely going to be feeling it then. “How is this so hard?”

“Well,” Lois chirped, as she literally skated circles around the two of them. “There is a reason that they say it’s like riding a bike, and nothing about ice skating.”

“I regret this already,” Oliver claimed, accepting Clark’s hand and assistance to get back on his feet. He took one step, and stumbled into Clark, who caught him and held on. The embrace did feel nice, and he wasn’t going to complain about a sudden cuddle with his boyfriend.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Clark said, not letting go.

“That’s debatable,” Oliver remarked, but he wasn’t truly upset. He was actually enjoying spending some rare free time with the two people he loved the most, and the rink was actually completely empty so no one else was there to witness his humiliation.

“Ollie just doesn’t like being perfect at something immediately,” Lois said smugly.

“Yes, because you’ve always been a pro at accepting failure,” Oliver shot back, continuing to stick with Clark for the moment, as Lois just smirked.

“He usually does have better balance than this,” Clark commented. “I’ve seen you walk on some pretty thin ledges.”

“You’ll find it’s easier with leather boots than ice skates,” Oliver told him dryly.

Feeling slightly more stable, he pushed off Clark, but his knees immediately felt wobbly. As if sensing it, Clark immediately grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers.

“Maybe we should just stick together,” Clark suggested.

“If you wanted to hold my hand, you could’ve just said so,” Oliver teased, squeezing it lightly.

“Can’t say that’s not a side benefit,” Clark joked.

“Aww, now this is a nice view,” Lois said, from behind them, causing Oliver to chuckle. She came up to quickly kiss each of them, before darting off once more.

“She’s just showing off now,” Oliver pointed out. “I mean, she’s literally skating backward.”

“That’s Lois for you,” Clark laughed. The sound of Clark’s laughter was one he never got tired of and it immediately filled Oliver’s chest with warmth.

“If she starts to do flips, I’m leaving,” Oliver warned, and Clark’s grin widened in response. He felt more comfortable, skating by Clark’s side, the two of them gliding around slowly.

“You know, if you want to speed up, I think I should be okay on my own,” Oliver offered, but Clark just shook his head.

“I’m good here,” Clark promised, and Oliver couldn’t resist leaning over to kiss him. As he pulled away, Lois popped on his other side, taking his other hand.

“Tired of the fast life, Nancy Kerrigan?” Oliver asked, nudging her playfully.

“Yeah, well, I figured it was unfair to make Smallville do all the heavy lifting,” Lois retorted, her lips curving into a smile.

“What would we do without you?” Clark asked, amused.

“Luckily for you two, you’ll never have to find out,” Lois assured them.

“Good,” Oliver said firmly, as they all exchanged smiles. The three of them then continued to skate around peacefully.

“I have to say, this is nice,” Oliver said, after a few moments.

“Not the worst thing ever then?” Clark asked, amused.

“No, not the worst thing ever,” Oliver repeated, glancing between Clark and Lois. “But if I complain tomorrow morning, you can’t judge.”

“Oh, when you have to ice your ass, I’m making all the jokes,” Lois assured him.

“Really, I should expect nothing less,” Oliver accepted.

“It’s why you love me,” Lois insisted, and Oliver couldn’t deny it.

Looking over at Clark, whose blue-green eyes was shining with mirth at Lois’s antics, Oliver let out another laugh, shaking his head.

Yeah, he definitely loved them both, and he wouldn’t trade this moment for the world.

“Next year, we’re going plastic.”

“Oh, come on, Lois, how can plastic ever compare to a real tree? It just doesn’t have the same smell,” Lana protested.

“We’ll buy an air freshener and call it a day,” Lois grumbled, wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. “At least this stupid tree fits in the apartment.”

“Now we just have to find the perfect place,” Lana said eagerly, and Lois tried not to scowl. After dragging it up three flights of stairs, because of course the elevator had to be broken that particular day, she was willing to leave it exactly where it was, inconvenience be damned.

However, looking at her girlfriend’s face, which was glowing, cheeks red due to the cold temperatures and her obvious happiness at the situation, still absolutely gorgeous despite being slightly disheveled (or maybe because of it?), Lois couldn’t stay mad. Of course, she liked it even more when she could be the cause of that look, but she was willing to just appreciate the view for now.

Besides, it was their first Christmas together and the idea of having someone to share the holidays with was pretty exciting in general. Which is how she ended up spending almost two hours looking for a tree and bringing it home in the first place the previous day, only to have to drive over to the Kent farm, because it needed a spot to “soak overnight”. Lois had finally understood why the General had never bothered. Yet one thing she was certain of was that Lana was worth the effort.

It had been a long time since Lois had any of this and she was hoping it would keep going in the years to come. And she knew it had been a while for Lana as well, so she wanted to make the holiday extra special. You’ve gone soft, Lane, she mentally chided herself, but couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

It was clear the work was far from over though. Buckle up, soldier.

“All right,” she said finally, as she looked around the spacious living room. “Where were you thinking it could go? Either by the window or that far corner looks good. Unless, of course, you were in the mood to do some temporary furniture rearrangement.”

“I was thinking by the window too,” Lana agreed.

“The further away from the fireplace, the better,” Lois acknowledged, nodding. “Should we move it there now?”

“Hold on, let me get my stand,” Lana said quickly, disappearing and returning minutes later with a fancy looking tree stand, that was gold and resembled actual tree roots.

“I’m a little afraid to ask how much you spent for that,” Lois remarked, secretly impressed.

“It’s an investment,” Lana explained. “It will last us years.”

“Years, huh?” Lois asked, heart skipping a beat at the idea that she wasn’t the only one with future in mind for the two of them.

“That’s the plan,” Lana replied, closing the distance between them and capturing her willing lips in a gentle kiss. “I hope you know that I’m keeping you.”

“Well, your plans have never led us astray so far,” Lois said; her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. That was something she didn’t think could actually happen.

And she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face completely, even as they lugged the tree over to its temporary home. Fortunately, the rest of the set up was easy, and since they were already there, they decided to decorate as well.

After they had gathered ornaments and decorations, most still new in the box, they began to decorate, making easy conversation as they worked.

“Hey, that’s cute,” Lois said, pointing to a homemade looking ornament in Lana’s hand in the shape of a star; it was covered in macaroni with a snowman in the middle and was in surprisingly good shape, considering it looked like it had been around for a while.

Lana looked up from where she had been staring at said ornament. “Yeah, I made it when I was a kid. Aunt Nell sent over some of my stuff a few weeks ago and I hadn’t really looked into it until now. I didn’t realize she had held on to it all these years.”

“I guess it was important to her,” Lois replied.

“I guess it was,” Lana said, a trace of wistfulness in her voice. “I should give her a call. I felt really bad for missing her wedding a few years ago … I just wasn’t in the right state of mind to go.”

“I’m sure she understood,” Lois assured her. Hesitating for a second, she added, “I know we have plans for Christmas, but maybe we can try to go see them sometime during these holidays.”

She knew she had said the right thing when Lana’s whole face brightened. “I would like that.”

“Great,” Lois replied, matching her smile. As they went back to the tree, making sure to find a nice prominent spot for Lana’s homemade ornament, a thought lingered in Lois’s mind. “Hey, so what are your thoughts about weddings now?”

“As in having one or attending?” Lana asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Either, both,” Lois answered, as nonchalantly as possible.

Lana looked thoughtful, as she briefly stopped hanging candy canes. “I think it would be nice to attend a wedding where chaos doesn’t happen. As for me, well, I don’t need to get married to be happy, but I wouldn’t say no, if it was right. Not being miserable on your wedding day would be a nice change of events. Again, it isn’t a deal breaker though.”

Lois took in her words. “Duly noted,” she said, trying not to give anything away.

She thought of her mom’s engagement ring sitting in the back of her side of the closet, sent to her by her dad when she made sure he knew how serious she was about her relationship, with a note that said ‘she would want you to have it’ and it shocked even her how easily she could picture it on Lana’s hand.

In years past, Lois hadn’t been sure she would get married and now, well, to say she didn’t mind one was a bit of an understatement. Maybe by next Christmas, her mom’s ring could also find a new home and that particular fantasy could be a reality.

Lana looked slightly curious, but didn’t pursue, seeming once to be oblivious to Lois’s thought process, or willing, for the moment at least, to let her have her privacy.

“I think we’re almost done here,” Lois declared, hoping to draw the attention back to the tree, and Lana thankfully went along with it.

“Just need the star,” Lana pointed out, quickly retrieving the sparkling gold tree topper they had purchased together along with the rest of the decorations. “Want to put it up together?”

“I would like that,” Lois confirmed, as the two of them did just that, their fingers brushing as they adjusted the star to fit perfectly.

Stepping back, they admired their handiwork. Lois couldn’t deny that the tree looked beautiful, with its mish mash of ornaments, candy canes, and lights, and of course the star literally topped it off just right. When they turned the lights on, it would be even better. Most of all, it felt right for them.

Lana stood next to her, and Lois wrapped her arm around her, drawing her close. In response, Lana rested her head on Lois’s shoulder, and she could feel her smile.

“What do you think?” Lois asked, her cheek on the top of Lana’s head. “Is it everything you dreamed of?”

“It’s perfect,” Lana said softly, clearly unable to take her eyes off it.

Lois looked between the tree and Lana, a smile tugging at her lips.

“This looks domestic.”

Fortunately, Clark had heard Oliver come in, so he wasn’t startled or distracted from his current task and just smiled.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Clark teased.

Oliver shrugged, making his way to Clark’s side, leaning in for a quick kiss, before replying. “Never said that,” he protested. Smiling cheekily, he added, “I was just wondering if you were going to mend my socks next.”

Clark rolled his eyes. “Like you let anything that is even a little bit torn touch your body.”

“What can I say?” Oliver replied, looking completely unapologetic. “I like nice things. Which extends to my relationships. My boyfriend is literally one of a kind.”

“I’ll tell Kara you said that,” Clark shot back, causing Oliver to pout. “Also you make me sound like an exotic species. Not sure how to feel about that.”

“With that face, I would’ve dated you no matter where you’re from,” Oliver promised, patting his cheek.

“Didn’t you say that I was photogenic, only if no one saw my face?” Clark quoted at him, his eyes lit up with amusement at the memory.

“Well, I couldn’t exactly say what was actually on my mind,” Oliver pointed out. “Though the view from the back is pretty impressive too.” And Oliver laughed when Clark’s cheeks promptly reddened in response.

“Are you here to just be a distraction?” Clark wondered aloud.

“Yes, I’m bored and you are supposed to entertain me,” Oliver answered. “Speaking of which, what are you doing anyway?” Oliver gestured to the sewing machine that was in front of Clark, open curiosity in both his expression and tone.

Clark shrugged. “I was sewing something.” Seeing Oliver’s ‘duh’ expression, he chuckled and went on, “I know, I know. That part is obvious. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I didn’t realize you were on your way till it was too late, and I was almost done anyway.”

“If you want, I can leave and come back later?” Oliver offered.

Immediately, Clark shook his head, and Oliver’s lips curved into a smile. “No, I like you here.”

“I like being here,” Oliver replied warmly.

Glancing down, Clark continued to work as he spoke. “It means a lot, you know, that you are willing to have Christmas at the farm. I know it’s not exactly the most exciting destination …”

“But it’s your home,” Oliver finished.

“My home is wherever you are,” Clark said firmly, and had to pause as Oliver’s eyes widened in surprise. “But yeah, this place will always be special to me, especially during the holidays.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a chance to consistently celebrate Christmas with a family, with people I love,” Oliver explained. “I would rather be here than all the parties or any beach in the world.”

And what could Clark do but kiss him again, easily losing himself in Oliver’s willing embrace, as he had so many times in the past. They probably would’ve moved upstairs and forgotten about everything else, which would’ve been fine with Clark, if not for Oliver pulling away reluctantly.

“You’re very good at distractions, but I do still want answers,” Oliver said, not leaving his arms just yet.

“I thought you were bored and wanted entertainment,” Clark reminded him, brushing his nose against Oliver’s gently.

“Yeah, I want answers first,” Oliver countered. “Then we can proceed with the … entertainment portion of the evening. So … you were telling me how wonderful I was ...”

“Yes, you’re the greatest,” Clark said, bemused.

“It’s true,” Oliver preened, and Clark let out another laugh.

“And I want you to feel at home here,” Clark said, sobering. “So I was thinking we could hang up some stockings later on.”

“For a reporter, you do seem to be going on some tangents here,” Oliver remarked and shrugged when he caught Clark’s pointed look. “What? I want the cliff notes version so we can get back to what we were just doing.”

“It will come together,” Clark said dryly. Making his way back to the sewing machine, he made sure his project was done, and picked up the completed green stocking that was adorned with a decorated tree and snowflakes and a solid white border that had Oliver’s name stitched out in dark green letters.

“Everyone in the family, and well, extended family, has their own stocking,” Clark explained. “Mom made most of them. A few days ago, I realized that you didn’t have one, and Mom wanted to do yours too, but I forgot to tell her earlier and she just didn’t have the time. I’m sure she’ll make a nicer one next year, but for now, I wanted you to have this.”

He handed it to Oliver, who accepted it, having gone silent during Clark’s explanation. His expression was filled with wonder as he took a look at the stocking, fingers brushing over the lettering. There was silence for over a minute, and just as Clark was starting to worry that Oliver didn’t like it, Oliver set the stocking on the table, and threw himself into Clark’s arms, hugging him tightly.

Clark hugged him back, relieved. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, cupping Oliver’s face.

His boyfriend’s eyes were bright and filled with various emotions. “Better than,” Oliver assured him. “I just … no one has ever done anything like this for me before. I, I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Clark said, as their lips met in a long, comforting kiss. “Want to put the stockings up now?”

Oliver nodded; in a rare turn of events, he didn’t seem to have a sarcastic comment or quippy remark at the tip of his tongue, clearly moved by the moment they were sharing. They made their way to the fireplace, Clark quickly going to retrieve his own stocking, before returning to Oliver’s side, as they chose their spots for their stockings, which ended up being side by side.

“Fitting,” Oliver noted. “I don’t remember the last time I even had a stocking. What do you usually put in it these days?”

“We usually have candy in ours,” Clark remembered. “An orange. Fun little trinkets.”

“No coal?” Oliver joked, nudging him lightly.

“I’ll have you know I’ve never been on the naughty list,” Clark shot back.

“Yeah, I can’t say the same,” Oliver conceded, not looking the least bit regretful. “Worth it though. Mostly.”

“Maybe we can work on keeping you on the nice list this year,” Clark suggested.

“Not too nice, I hope,” Oliver responded slyly, arms wrapping around Clark’s waist to turn him back so they were face to face once more. “I would hate to be seen as boring.”

“I’m sure we can find some balance,” Clark said, leaning forward with clear intent.

“That’s what I was counting on,” Oliver murmured, as their lips met once more.

And Clark was too happy to reignite what they had started earlier, allowing Oliver to lead him to the couch, lowering him against the cushion.

“And I’m definitely keeping the stocking,” Oliver murmured against his lips.

“Good,” Clark said, his heart swelling with love, as Oliver silenced him once more with his mouth.

“Okay, let’s go over the list one more time.”

Rory looked amused at her girlfriend. “I think we got it all. Pretty sure we’re good.”

“But is it perfect?” Paris wanted to know, eyebrows furrowing, “Maybe I should call the caterers again.”

“Paris, if you call the caterers one more time, I’m afraid of what they’re going to put in our food,” Rory warned. As it is, she was pretty sure Paris had scared off at least one employee. When she had called to check in the day before, she could hear the relief in their voices that it was her, not Paris, who was calling.

“If they can’t handle a little yelling and a few threats, then they are definitely in the wrong business,” Paris insisted.

Rory couldn’t even bring herself to be anything but amused, too used to Paris’s neuroses at this point and she loved her too much to ever want her to change. Besides, she also got that underneath the outward blustering, the need for perfection really stemmed from anxiety, especially about this party in particular.

They were hosting their first “non denominational holiday party”, as Paris referred to it, since they were doing Hanukkah together with just them and the children and then Christmas in Stars Hollow so the party was timed to fall right in between those two.

The whole family, and then some, were making their way to her and Paris’s new home in Manhattan, which thankfully was a little more reasonable than Paris’s last place. At least no elevators were required and no one had to walk up multiple floors to get anywhere. It was spacious and homey at the same time, and Rory loved every single square foot. Of course, that was true for any space Paris occupied.

“Are you just going to keep smiling there, or do I have to check the list myself?” Paris demanded, drawing Rory’s attention.

“All right, if it will make you happy, I will check the list,” Rory conceded. “Decorations?”

“Check,” Paris confirmed. “The decorators are set to come in to handle the bigger stuff and I have reconfirmed the time thrice already.”

Choosing not to comment on that, Rory went on. “Well, we got the food. Gift bags?”

“Wrapped and under the tree, already packed separately with name tags for the guests,” Paris answered. “Speaking of gifts, I know you’re hiding mine in Stars Hollow, and I do not appreciate it.”

“I won’t have you guessing what I got you again,” Rory retorted. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Surprises are overrated,” Paris said, shaking her head. Hearing a giggle, she turned toward the playpen, where Rory’s daughter sat with her toys. “See? Emily jr agrees with me.”

“I don’t think that’s agreement,” Rory replied, but her features softened as her daughter waved her little arms for Paris to pick her up when she saw she got her attention, and Paris, who was definitely tough on the outside, but soft around her children and now Rory’s, obliged immediately.

Emily Lorelai Gilmore, nicknamed “Ella” by Paris’s daughter, Gabriela, smiled, her tiny fits reaching for Paris’s short blond hair, and Paris spun her around, causing her to giggle once more.

Rory had briefly wondered if people would get confused and think her full name was Isabella, with the nickname, but Timóteo was very quick to counter, in a tone that was scarily similar to his mother, “Well, that is just their problem. We cannot control their stupidity and assumptions.”

And therefore the nickname stuck. Rory grew to love it quickly. Watching Ella with Paris caused her heart to skip a beat and made her feel warm inside.

Ella adored Paris from the start, and her first smile had been directed at her, much to everyone’s surprise, including Paris. And Paris had been so good to both of them. The sight of the two of them, filled Rory with joy, and she rested her hand on her cheek, elbow on her knee, content to observe them.

“Rory, I didn’t tell you to stop talking,” Paris said, staring at her. “You Gilmores- so bent upon distracting me.”

“Oh, like you’re complaining,” Rory teased. “You know you love us.”

Bouncing Ella in her arms, Paris didn’t argue, instead choosing to take a seat next to her. “Yes, like mother, like daughter, you have both somehow worked your way under my skin.”

Rory leaned forward to steal a kiss, and Paris responded, but as she pulled away, took Rory’s list with her, visibly pleased with her success.

Shaking her head, Rory could only let out a chuckle. “Everything is a competition with you.”

“Of course,” Paris confirmed. “Now, let’s get back to this list. Your grandmother is coming from Nantucket, and I don’t want her to be able to find a single flaw.”

Ella wiggled a little so Paris handed her off to Rory, who set her down on her lap.

“I know, Paris is a little much, but we love her anyway,” Rory mock whispered to her daughter, causing Paris to raise an eyebrow. “And you know my grandma will just be happy with Ella. She has softened a bit over the years.”

“Emily Gilmore the original is not ‘just’ happy with anything,” Paris argued. “Nor should she be. Perfection is not the ideal; it is the standard.”

“How do you put up with me then?” Rory wondered, only half kidding, unable to help the small insecurities she had developed over the years from popping up.

Paris paused and looked over at her seriously. “Well,” she said, suddenly looking a little self conscious. “You are perfect … for me.”

Rory’s face split into a wide grin, and carefully balancing her daughter, grasped at Paris’s silk top, pulling her into a long, lingering kiss.

As they parted, Rory couldn’t stop smiling.

“You know what? You’re perfect for me too.”

“Hooligan!”

“Mom!”

Jess, the ‘hooligan’ in question, smirked from where he was at that moment, which was Rory’s childhood bedroom, changing her six month old daughter, one Lorelai Emily Gilmore, already nicknamed Leia, who was giggling and babbling nonsensically, oblivious to what was going on right outside the door.

Truth be told, he didn’t mind the nickname, especially since Lorelai rarely used it and it was mostly done in good fun. Rory, on the other hand, wasn’t as accepting, and from the silence that had followed, he was assuming Lorelai was getting the full glare (or possibly the ‘withering stare’, he remembered fondly).

He heard a loud sigh, indicating Rory won this round. “Fine,” Lorelai exclaimed. “Will the artist formerly known as the hooligan please hurry it up and get out here so we can start? And bring my grandchild as well.”

“Looks like we’re being summoned,” Jess remarked, picking her up with ease. Leia laughed and reached for Jess’s hair, managing to get her tiny fist around a few strands and pulling, forcing him to gently escape her grasp. “Is that your way of saying I need a haircut? Join the club.”

As they made their way outside and to the living room, Luke showed up with a platter of what looked like cut up vegetables and fruits.

“Luke! Those better be chocolate flavored,” Lorelai said dramatically.

“Definitely not,” Luke replied. “It won’t hurt to have something that provides actual nutrition with all the junk that is out here.”

“You don’t know that,” Lorelai retorted. “It may hurt me a lot. I have worked very hard to make sure there is nothing but pure sugar and caffeine running through these veins. It will be a shock to my system!”

“Oh, jeez, how have you made it this far in life?” Luke asked.

“You married this, buddy,” Lorelai reminded him. “Till death do us part, and all that fun stuff. I should’ve made you add, ‘will not make me eat vegetables’ in those vows.”

Jess let out a small laugh, drawing their attention, and Luke’s ire.

“Well, Jess will eat it,” Luke defended. “And maybe Rory too.”

Before Lorelai could oppose that idea, Rory shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Did you bring some ranch?”

Lorelai gasped. “My own spawn! Betrayed by my own spawn!”

“I’m still a new mother, mom,” Rory reminded her. “The baby needs nutrients.”

“Oh, woe is me, all alone in a cruel, unforgiving household,” Lorelai went on, putting her hand to her heart. “Jess, bring me my spawn’s spawn, before she has the chance to forego me as her mother has done.”

Biting his lower lip, Jess handed over Leia to Lorelai, as Rory and Luke shook their head in the background.

“You’re all I have now, Leia,” Lorelai cooed. “You won’t leave me and eat vegetables, will you?”

“Pretty sure she already is,” Luke said, unbothered by Lorelai’s pout. “If you keep going, you know you are going to miss the start of the Charlie Brown Christmas Special.”

“Not that!” Lorelai declared. “Quick, places, everyone!” Leia was put down in her playpen, as Jess settled into the armchair, the other three making themselves comfortable on the couch.

Watching holiday specials was apparently a tradition, one he had been dragged into since he and Rory had started dating again. Not that he had needed much convincing, if he was being honest.

Even if that involved watching Charlie Brown, and whatever else Lorelai had in mind. It was fun though and got better when Rory ditched the couch fifteen minutes later, to make her way next to Jess.

“Got room for one more?” she asked, sitting on the edge of his chair.

“I think I can make space,” he told her solemnly, scooting over slightly so she could sit down. She still ended mostly in his lap, something he definitely didn’t mind.

Rory wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning down to steal a kiss, one he happily returned.

“Are you two going to be gross and sappy?” Lorelai demanded. “First the vegetables, and now you leave your mommy here to go makeout with your boyfriend?” But she couldn’t be too bothered, because once Rory had moved, she had also shifted, so she could put her feet on Luke’s lap.

Luke, for all his outward grumpiness, was watching Lorelai fondly as she rambled on. Jess secretly hoped he could have something like that, and if it was with the woman he was with her right now, that would be perfect.

“What’s it to you?” Rory questioned, with a touch of cheekiness.

“Well, I just want to say that Leia is not even a year old, and may not quite be ready for a sibling,” Lorelai countered, ignoring Luke’s “oh jeez”.

“Does mommy need a reminder how babies are made?” Rory shot back.

“Jess would like to be removed from this conversation,” he chipped in.

Fortunately, Lorelai got distracted again by the movie. “Ooh, this is my favorite part!” Lorelai said. “Linus is about to give his big speech.”

The conversation was tabled, and Jess was able to freely cuddle with Rory, while they continued to watch. From there, they went on to watch ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ and then “A Christmas Carol”. Jess had to admit that he was truly having a good time. He had gotten used to not being alone for the holidays by now, but this was different.

He could get used to this.

Before Scrooge could have his own change of heart, he looked around to notice that everyone but Lorelai had fallen asleep, including Rory in his arms and Leia, still in her playpen. Lorelai raised an eyebrow as she caught him watching, as she too realized the situation. Reaching for the remote, she shut off the TV.

“Looks it’s bedtime,” she said, standing up, the movement causing Luke to awaken. “Come on, old man, let’s go.”

Luke grumbled a little, but wished Jess goodnight, and headed for the stairs.

Lorelai, however, lingered. “Do you need any help?”

Jess shook his head. “I got them.”

“Yeah, you do,” Lorelai agreed, her lips twitching into a warm smile. “Good night, Jess.”

“Night, Lorelai,” he said quietly, as he watched her leave. Carefully, he first took Rory to bed, before heading back quickly to carry a sleeping Leia to her crib, relieved that he was able to do so without waking her up again.

By the time he returned to Rory, she had woken up, smiling sleepily at him.

“Hey,” he said, making himself as comfortable as he could in the small bed. She snuggled back into him, and he put his arm around her.

“I missed the ending of A Christmas Carol,” Rory murmured.

“Spoiler alert: Scrooge has a heart, and Tiny Tim lives,” Jess replied. “But we can watch it later.”

“Maybe, tomorrow we are watching Hallmark movies,” Rory told him, yawning.

“Really?” Jess asked incredulously.

“We make fun of them,” Rory explained, rubbing her eyes. “We make bets with candy on who can guess what will happen and whoever gets the most right wins the jackpot.”

“Sounds thrilling,” Jess remarked, hiding a smile.

“Luke will complain, but he’ll be there,” Rory said. “His complaining has become one of the fun parts. You’ll join in too?”

“Yeah, I’ll join in too,” Jess agreed, without hesitating.

“Good,” Rory said, eyes drifting shut. “I like you here.”

“I like me here too,” Jess said softly, but Rory was already fast asleep. “I love you.”

She definitely didn’t hear that, but he would say it again in the morning.

There would be no more running away.