Title: Budmas Author: Maureen S. O'Brien E-mail: mobrien@dnaco.net Category: S Rating: G Distribution: anywhere you like. Spoilers: Wedding Bell Blues. Summary: Bud's ready for Christmas. Author's Note: This takes place before "JAGgle Bells". I don't think I've dedicated any stories to Kathleen Klatte, but then, she's already dedicated and she writes a zillion good stories of her own! Still, this one's for her. Thanks, Kath. Merry Christmas. Disclaimer, to the obvious tune: I hope you don't sue; I know this don't count, But JAG's owned by Don, Belisar'us, Paramount -- Fanfic writer going to town. I'm writing a tale; I'm spell-checking twice; If it still stinks, Tell me -- but be nice! Fanfic writer going to town. I know I should be sleeping, But JAG kept me awake. My checkbook won't do you much good, So don't sue, for goodness' sake! So give this a read And send me a line, And tell me what's good, What's bad and what's whine... Fanfic writer going to town. ----------------------------------------------------------- Budmas by Maureen S. O'Brien Christmas was coming. Bud turned off the light, got under the covers and cuddled up to Harriet, who had already fallen asleep. Then he saw a flicker of red, blue, and green -- the Christmas lights on the tree and around the apartment window. He'd forgotten to turn them off. He sighed for a moment, then slipped out from under the covers as carefully as possible. Despite all his care, the floor creaked a little as he stood up. Harriet stirred in her sleep and made a little complaining noise that might have been his name. His chest went tight for a moment and his eyes shone. She was so beautiful when she was sleeping -- or when she was awake. Or any other time, if those two didn't cover everything...never mind. Anyway, if he could travel back in time even a couple of years and tell himself "You're going to get married and have a baby," he would have told himself to quit teasing. But here he was, and she was -- and gosh, there the baby was, too! His feet were getting cold. He shook himself out of his reverie and padded out into the main room, careful to avoid the walls. He hadn't broken any of Harriet's precious Hummel figurines yet, and he wanted to keep it that way. Fortunately, she'd already put them safely out of range of most accidents, so they shouldn't have to change the whole arrangement around for the baby. Not until he or she became a toddler, anyway. It was easier to avoid the computer table; navigating around it was second nature. Not that he really spent _that_ much time on the Net -- not compared to the old days, anyway. The sad thing was that he spent most of his keyboard time writing papers and briefs for law classes. Ugh. He'd be glad when he was done with school for good. It wouldn't be much longer. This was his third year at George Mason, and pretty soon he'd be doing his best to pass the bar. By this time next year, with a seven-month-old under the tree -- heck, they might not even be here. Once he passed the bar, there was no telling where he'd get assigned, or whether they'd be able to fit in Harriet someplace close. He sighed. He'd better worry about whether he'd passed his exams first. The tree was prickly, but he didn't mind. They hadn't put any presents under it yet, so he just reached across the tree skirt (ignoring the brush of tinsel and the glass ornament that dangled in his face) and flipped off the power strip. All the lights went off. He extricated his hand and looked back at the interesting shadows on the wall. Bud liked interesting shadows, and the lights of the apartment complex plus the tree provided some good ones. Harriet had put up some of those strips of bunting in the window and crossed them so the window looked like a package tied up in ribbon. That night he'd moved them around so the shadow of the crossing fell directly over Harriet's insanely-valuable, display-cased for-your-protection Nativity set. Sort of a Christmas star in reverse. Harriet had freaked, in a very good way. Martha Stewart, eat your heart out. He stood up slowly and breathed in the smell of the pine and the slightly chilly air. Outside the window, greenery wreathed all the nearest apartments' windows, except for the one with the menorah banner and the one that was totally dark. He liked that, too. If everybody did the same thing, it would get pretty scary. There wouldn't be any room in a Stepford world for the likes of Bud Roberts. Or Harriet the tomboy (he smirked, still finding it hard to imagine except when she watched Xena). Or whatever it was the baby decided to be. The baby. Wow. He just couldn't get over that. A whole little person was starting life, and Harriet and he were going to be getting a front row seat. It was scary, though. He still hadn't told Harriet about what his dad had done to him and Mikey. What if the statistics were right? What if he ended up just like his dad, hitting and hurting his kids? He shook his head. He couldn't let that happen. No. He'd be better off dead than hurting his children. So he'd have to be extra careful, and never lay a hand on them. It all came back to one kid, after all. One baby. God going into direct contact with the denizens of planet Earth, with a little help from a woman who took on a hard duty and a man who stuck with her when asked. So of course their small lives got tangled up in the geopolitics of the Middle East, and the baby ended up getting born in some stable/cave, sworn allegiance to by blissed-out shepherds, sung to by alien lifeforms, and given symbolic gifts by Zoroastrian astrologer-priests from Iran before the family had to flee an oppressive puppet government. That was just the way things went in this crazy world. Not that he could complain. It had given him Harriet. He padded back into the bedroom, once again avoiding the computer desk, the living room furniture, and figurines that were the products of a nun with way too much fondness for drawing chubby-cheeked German kids, though he'd actually liked the non-kid drawings in that book about her that Harriet had. Collecting was a fannish thing, though, and he respected it. Especially since it gave him a little leverage when he saw something Trek he really wanted, like a computer game. They would have to watch their finances a little more carefully once the baby came. Harriet had her trust fund, but they were trying to save that for the baby's college education. He worried about the future, though. What happened if the stock market crashed instead of just going down? What happened if the US economy went into a bad recession, like Asia and a lot of the world already had? And then he saw Harriet sleeping peacefully, the light from the tiny bedroom window dimly washing over her face and belly. Peace swept over him. They would work out all the problems, as long as they stuck together. But that could wait until tomorrow. Tonight he would go to sleep with his whole little family beside him, safe and warm. "Thank you," he whispered to the One responsible. Then he got back in bed, trying not to wake Harriet up or touch her with his cold clammy feet. She woke up a little and snuggled into him, which was good because he was freezing and needed the heat. He closed his eyes, and soon his musings cut off mid- thought as his tiredness caught up with him and took him prisoner. Christmas was com.... -----------------------------------------------------------------