Disclaimer: Constant C.yadda, yadda, yadda.Warner Brothers.blah, blah, blah.whatever

How the Carters Stole Christmas

"It's Beginning to seem a lot like Christmas."

Lucy hummed happily as she made her way down the snowy Chicago street. Snowflakes fell lightly from the sky and landed on her blonde head, melting and leaving nothing but a pinch of water in their wake. She didn't mind the cold; it was barely noticeable in her Christmas merriment, which was even merrier when she thought about how John would be waiting for her when she finally got back to her apartment. The bag of bagels at her side peaked open, and she took this opportunity to take a sniff. The sweet aroma filled her nose as she inhaled deeply. Mmmm. Giggles floated through the air as a snowball whizzed by her head, nearly hitting it's target, missing only by a few inches. She looked up, and the children ducked behind a parked car. Lucy simply smiled. The usually busy street was deprived of commotion, almost desolate compared to any other day when it didn't snow five feet overnight. She enjoyed the quiet, enjoyed the peacefulness of the scene. Nothing could have broken her spirits today. She planned to spend all day with the person she loved, just hanging out, no distractions, no pesky ER to bother them. The way it should be on the holiday.

She reached the door of her apartment and stopped, for the first time taking into consideration the fact that she hadn't an extra hand, one held the coffee, the other, the bagels. She placed one on the ground next to her foot, balancing the other as she turned the knob and pushed open the door. Then, accomplishing an even more amazing feat, she held the door with he back, balanced the bagels and scooped up the to warm cups of coffee, without spilling a single drop. "How's that for a clumsy resident." She took her time going up the stairs, hoping to keep her spilling record clean, along with the floor. She arrived at the next door, the last door, and took a deep breath. She had to open it herself; she didn't want to wake John up, considering he had been on all last night. Going through the previous motions, she successfully opened this door also. "I'm on a roll!"

Lucy placed breakfast on the kitchen table, all to thankful to be finally rid of the delicious inconveniences. She stripped away her outer layers: the bulky winter coat, long knitted scarf, hat, and boots, leaving them strewn across the floor. Carter wouldn't think to highly of that, being the neat freak that he was. Unlike Lucy, who wasn't quite a slob, just a little more careless than him.

She immediately ran over to the heater, the hot air warming her cold fingers and toes. "Ahhh." She hadn't realized the effect the air temperature had taken on her body until she was near heat. As her body warmed, her attention turned to the mini Christmas tree, easily compared to the one in the Charlie Brown classic. It had an imperfection, it was lacking something, and she just couldn't put her finger on it. She looked the tree up and down and up again, when she realized the top was missing, there was nothing to put on the top of the sad little tree, and neither Lucy nor John had realized it until now. She decided it would become her mission, and she added a mental note: find tree topper.

Feeling she had accomplished another thing today, she removed herself from the warmth of the heater. Crossing the living room she made her way back to the kitchen and grabbed breakfast, deciding it was time to wake lazy boy over there. She tiptoed quietly as she nudged the bedroom door open with her shoulder. There John lay in peaceful slumber with the covers drawn up to his chin, his face an image of pure happiness, an image that he usually got when he was in deep sleep. The scene brought a smile to her lips, and she was almost reluctant to wake him. Almost.

She put the food on her nightstand and crept on to the bed. "John," Lucy whispered in a loving voice. "It's time to get up." He grunted and turned over in response. She giggled and continued her failing efforts. "C'mon, John. Rise and shine." A louder groan was again the only thing she got from him. She sighed. "Carter! Double victim MVA ETA two minutes!"

"I'm up, I'm up."

'Works like a charm.' She leaned back on her feet and watched John push himself up, a giant yawn escaping his mouth. His half closed eyes tried to focus as he looked at her, and she smiled as she said "Merry Christmas" and leaned over to kiss him.

"Merry Christmas." He replied groggily, his voice thick from lack of use.

"I got us breakfast." She motioned over to the nightstand where the bag of food waited patiently to be eaten. He snatched the bag, reached inside and grabbed a bagel, taking a big bite, stopping its silent pleas.

"Good." He handed her one, placing the bag back and this time reaching for the coffee. For a second they ate in comfortable silence, he too drowsy to talk and her waiting for him to become more awake. He was usually a little cranky after waking up, and almost anything could be taken the wrong way. He was not a morning person. "What time is it?" He asked finally.

"Ummm.last time I looked it was around five, and that was about a half hour ago." He nodded his head at first, but the nodding stopped and a look of dread crept over face.

"Five thirty?" He sounded as if he was on the break of some horrible realization.

"Yeah. John, what's up?"

"Lucy, we're suppose to have dinner with my family at six." He tried to be as calm as possible, which was not very possible when dealing with a family like the Carters.

"What?"

"We're suppose to have dinner with my family at six!" He got out of bed and began pacing the length of the room, running his hand through his hair, a nervous habit. He was definitely awake now.

"You never told me." He stopped pacing for a moment, and looked at her in complete disbelief.

"Yes I did."

"No, actually you didn't because I think I would've remembered."

"What is that suppose to mean?" She rolled her eyes in reaction to his defensive response.

"Oh come on, John. You complain about them like every five minutes."

Lucy had never met any of the Carters, but from the stories John told her, she thought she should be thankful for that. There was his grandfather who he described as 'a demanding, controlling man, who claims he does things for his family, but really only does them for himself', his grandmother, or 'Gamma' as he likes to call her, who really isn't all that bad, his parents, who he claims he hasn't seen them in so long he forgot what they were like, and of course there's more that she just couldn't think of.

" That doesn't matter, they're my family."

"Why don't we just get ready instead of argue about it, okay?"

"Good idea." And he turned around quickly making his way to the bathroom, leaving Lucy to just sit in shock of how her perfect little Christmas had become a perfect little nightmare. She heard a crash and it caught her attention. She got up to go investigate when she realized the condition she had left the kitchen and living room in, her clothes in a trail on the floor.

"Ow, ow ow!" She found John at the end of the trail, sitting on the floor, gripping his head in pain.

"What happened?" He looked up at her in annoyance.

"I tripped over your boots and whacked my head on the radiator."

"I'm so sorry." But her tone displayed anything but sorrow.

"This isn't funny."

She disappeared for a moment, returning with a facecloth soaked in cold water. He lifted his hand away from the cut, and she began to clean it gingerly, trying not to cause more pain than he was already in. "It's pretty deep," She paused for a second and took a closer look. "I think it needs sutures."

"Merry Christmas."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

" Chestnuts roasting on an open fi-"

Carter turned the radio off with one fluid motion of his wrist and sat back in the seat. Lucy just continued driving, the beat of the windshield wipers as they brushed the snow from her view breaking the unsettling quiet. Neither had said a word since leaving the apartment, and perhaps that was a good thing, considering John's irritability and head injury. "You should keep pressure on that." She commented, telling him something he already knew, but had absentmindedly forgot judging by the fact that his hand had left his head.

"Thanks doctor, I've never heard that before." She knew opening her mouth was a bad idea, and she resisted the urge to challenge that snide remark. She glanced over at him instead, seeing he had put his hand back and the advice had taken its desired effect. She brought her focus back to driving and nearly missed Cook County General Hospital as it came up on her right. She took a sharp turn into the parking lot, causing screeching tires and slamming brakes as she made it safely inside. Lucy was once again reminded why John always drove.

So, a half an hour later he was in the driver's seat instead of her, his head fixed up nicely courtesy of Dr. Greene, and once again, there was silence. Lucy watched the snowfall outside her window for lack of a more interesting thing to do. If John was expecting some sort of apology from her for whatever reason, he was not going to get it. It wasn't her fault he didn't look before he walked, or he forgot to mention dinner. If anyone, he should apologize. But that was merely her opinion. He parked the jeep in front of the apartment building and killed the engine, pausing a moment before going outside, and Lucy almost thought he would apologize. "Remind me to get a top for the tree after dinner." And he stepped outside, slamming the door shut behind him, taking away what was left of her feeling of accomplishment. "At least breakfast was good." She mumbled to herself as she followed him outside.

It took a lot of rummaging through her closet, but she had found it. Her red velvet dress, that to her, seemed to scream elegance. It had an air of snobbishness, and she thought it would mesh quite well with the air at the Carters'. "C'mon Lucy. We need to get going." She heard Carter call from the living room for the millionth time. His impatience only managed to annoy her, not give her the incentive to move any quicker.

"That's not making me go any faster you know." She searched under her bed for an elusive pair of high-heeled shoes, not finding them in the closet with the rest. Spotting them in the corner, she stretched her arm to its maximum length and retrieved them. She slipped them on her feet and her toes were instantly in complaint, reminding her why they were not with the others in the first place. She shrugged figuring she'd just have to suffer for the rest of the night, which she would probably already be doing. Donning the painful heels and the snobby dress, she walked outside into the living room.

"Finally." John stood up and headed for the door.

"Yeah, you look great too." Lucy grabbed her coat and pondered Carter's stupidity.

"What?"

"Nothing." She turned off the lights and hoped she would make it through the night without killing anyone, which would be quite a challenge. She could barely handle one Carter tonight, never mind a whole clan of them. She locked the door behind her; sensing she should be afraid, very afraid.

They were on the road again, on their way. No turning back now, Lucy thought wryly. It had finally stopped snowing for the first time since yesterday, and the clouds disappeared quickly leaving the moon and stars to fill the night sky. John sat beside her, at the wheel of course, totally focused on driving, or pretending to be totally focused on driving. The speedometer read seventy, which was well above the speed limit. "Don't you think you should slow down?"

"We're already almost an hour late, my grandfather is going to kill me, and I'm the driver and I say this speed is fine."

"Well, the law seems to disagree and you're a grown man, John. Your grandfather isn't going to kill you."

"You don't know my grandfather."

"Whatever." Lucy continued to stare out the window, now knowing conversation with John was hopeless. Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, the sounds of sirens came to her ears and she looked in the rearview mirror just in time to see flashing red and blue lights.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"John?"

"It's the police, isn't it."

Carter cursed under his breath and pulled over to the side of the broad highway, the police car right behind him. She sighed, not fearing any real punishment from the officer, only a ticket and wasted time to add to John's already sour mood. The chubby male officer came up to Carter's window, and Lucy half expected to see a donut hanging from his hand.

"What's the problem, officer?"

"You were speeding."

"Oh?"

"May I see your ID?" Carter obediently reached into his coat pocket and retrieved his wallet, handing to the policeman. The officer inspected it carefully, looking at it then at John, and Lucy waited half anxious half impatient for the man to finish. "Sorry to do this to you on Christmas, sir, but I'm afraid I'm gonna have to give you a ticket." John, saving any visual reaction till after the officer had gone, just looked up grimly as he handed him his wallet and the ticket. "Merry Christmas, sir, ma'm. Drive safely." And he was gone, off to stop evildoers and spread false Christmas cheer.

A half an hour later, the car was still silent, and Lucy, out of boredom, had been reduced to playing license plate games with her self. Neither of them wanted to go to dinner, and she just didn't see the point, when he knew as well as she did that the only good thing coming from this would be his family would be happy and might leave him alone for a while. That was a big might, far to big to waste their Christmas on. But of course, he had to go, had to be there, like he owed it to them. And it made him miserable, which made her miserable. "Are we almost there?"

"Another forty five minutes." Great. Lucy thought. Just great. Not only would she have to spend another forty-five minutes sitting in the destitute car pondering the mysteries of John Carter's heart, it would still be another forty-five minutes before she could get this ordeal started and finished. Maybe she was overreacting, maybe they wouldn't be all that bad, maybe she might actually enjoy her self and be able to salvage what was left of this holiday. Yeah, and maybe money would start growing on trees.

"Listen, Luce." Carter spoke suddenly, interrupting her wandering thoughts. He sounded as if he had calmed down considerably, judging by the tone in his voice and the use of her nickname. "I'm sorry Christmas didn't turn out the way you planned it." She looked up in surprise; an apology was the last thing she expected from him. He always managed to keep her guessing. Sometimes she'd get so mad at him, question what she ever saw in him, and then he'd come up and say something or do something that made her fall in love with him all over again. Corny, she knew, but true.

"Who'd you say was coming?" John stole a quick glance at her, and they shared a smile.

"My grandparents, of course, my mother and father just flew in from France, my sister, Barbara, a few aunts and uncles, and ummm . . . my cousin Chase." The pause between aunts and uncles and cousin Chase told her something wasn't right, that he wasn't telling her something.

"John?"

"Hmmm?"

"What is it?" He took a deep breath and spoke, his voice layered with sadness and regret.

"I never told you about what happened to Chase, did I?" The question rolled around in her head, her memory banks searching Chase. Chase.

"No." He kept his eyes locked on the road, not just for the sake of driving. The thought of his cousin brought up so much emotion he couldn't even look at her. She wondered what could have happened to make that possible. "John?" She spoke softly, gently edging him forward.

"He came into the hospital, overdosed on cocaine. He survived, of course, but had a substantial amount of brain damage." He sighed, closed his eyes as if the image of his cousin, laying on a gurney still haunted him. "He had come to me before . . . asking me for help. He wanted to get clean but he wouldn't go to rehab, so I detoxed him myself. He begged me not to tell anyone . . . I just keep thinking that if I had . . ." He let the sentence trail off into the air, and Lucy just tried to absorb the sudden sadness that had overtaken the jeep. His confession made her realize how much she truly didn't know about him, made her realize how much she truly wanted to learn.

"I don't know what to say . . ." And she didn't. She was at a loss for words.

"It's okay," He said after a moment. "It was a long time ago." But she could tell it was still taking its effect on him, a wound that hadn't healed. She tried thinking of something to say, something comforting that would make the guilt go away. But nothing she could say, be it the most poetic paragraph ever spoken, could do that.

She didn't have time to delve too deep into her thoughts; a noise caught her ears' attention. "What was that?" She watched as John's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I don't know." Then, as if in an answer to her question, smoke began rising from the front of the jeep in synch with the sudden lighting of the check engine sign.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carter lifted the hood of the jeep and was greeted with a large amount of smoke. He coughed in response and Lucy stood beside him, her arms wrapped around her waist as she watched the scene before her. He waved a hand, trying to clear it, but decided the best option was to close the hood, cutting off the source of the smoke. "The engine overheated." She looked at him, hoping that they could do something about it and she wouldn't have to get her feet amputated from frostbite.

"Well, can't you unoverheat it?"

"No."

"So we're stuck here."

"Pretty much." He seemed to refuse to give her a straight answer.

"So what do we do?" He was surprisingly calm, a little too calm for her liking. He looked around, glancing up at the sky, then forward, straight a head down the highway.

"I suggest we start walking."

"Walking." She said in disbelief.

"Unless you have a better idea."

"Walking." And he did just that, his footsteps marking his path. She looked down at her feet, now extremely regretting her choice of footwear. Knowing she would have to walk God only knows how far in the snow would have affected her decision a great deal. "Walking." She uttered again to her feet and followed John's feet prints in the snow. She caught up with him after only a few hurried steps and he didn't stop, didn't recognize her new place beside him. Lucy was about to ask him where they were going but stopped herself, seeing the blatantly obvious sign right in front of her reading Exit 21, food lodging. Lucy wondered how dimwitted she could be and still be a competent doctor.

A smile came to her lips as she realized a way to break his calm rational façade that didn't involve yelling and screaming. It could end like that, but she shrugged it off and lagged behind again. She scooped up a handful of cold, wet snow and packed it into a firm ball, wishing she wore gloves or something to protect her hands from the icy chill. John walked in front of her, totally oblivious to the fact that he had been entered into the dangerous game of snowball fighting.

And the game began as Lucy let the snowball escape from her fingers, launching it full force into the air. With one swift motion, it hit its intended target with a resonating thud, followed by a crunch as the snowball broke a part and fell to the ground. He turned around slowly, and she waited anxiously to see if this had been a big mistake or a stroke of genius.

Her question was answered as a cold ball of snow hit her in the shoulder. She smiled, a warm, happy smile and returned the favor. And before she knew it, they were running, and diving and dodging and laughing. Laughing. The beautiful sound of laughter rang clear through the night; filled every corner of the sky. And then they stopped, but she could still hear it.

"I'm freezing." They stood by the side of the road with their fancy clothes and done up hair, soaking wet, suddenly realizing how ridiculous they actually were.

"Me too." But they ignored it. She scurried to catch up with him again, and this time, once at his side, he grabbed her hand and laced his fingers with hers.

A tavern snuck up behind a bend in the road, and Lucy resisted the urge to cry out in delight. She didn't know how much longer she could've lasted, with the wet clothes and the temperatures that felt sub-arctic, but most likely weren't. Knowing John was in better spirits was well worth it, and sometimes she felt like she'd do anything to make him happy. "Look." She pointed right out at it; sure he already knew it was there, but too excited to do nothing. "There's a tavern up there or something."

"I can see, Luce."

"I know . . . it's just well there's heat there, and a phone, and no snow, and heat . . ." He chuckled softly.

"I think I get the picture." He looked down at the ground and sighed. She leaned closer to him, titled her head down.

"What's wrong? I thought we just agreed this was a good thing." He paused for a moment, and it looked as if he was debating with himself, trying to figure out the best thing to say.

"I have to call them."

"Oh." She stood back but kept her gaze on him. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I know. But it's better to argue about it now than let all the bad things pile up and argue about it later."

"You sound like we're not even going now." She was too concerned to even care about what that actually meant. And for a second, she was almost disappointed. After all, no matter how horrible, they were his family, the people who raised him, who had taken care of him for eighteen years. And anyone who raised a man like John Carter had to have good in them.

"I don't know."

They walked onward, around the bend until the building stood right in front of them. Music from the jukebox floated through the frosty air and row after row of pickup trucks filled the dirt parking lot. It looked like a dusty old place, with a wooden sign perched on the rooftop reading 'Joe's Tavern'. And as Lucy got closer, she heard the song more clearly. Boot Scoot Boogie. Oh no, she thought with a roll of her eyes. "Of all the places we could have came across, it had to be a country and western bar." She commented to herself.

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

They stepped up the cement steps and on to the wooden porch, making it creak as they stepped over the threshold of the bar. The music got instantly louder, and the overpowering stench of alcohol filled their noses, but the one thing that made everything else go away was as evident as all the rest: "Heat!" She cried in delight.

"I'm gonna go get this over with and call a cab." He slipped away to the corner of the bar where the pay phone was hung as she walked over to a stool and sat down. She took off her coat and sat awkwardly for a moment, knowing what she wanted to do, but not sure if she should do it. Lucy glanced around the small tavern, seeing people laughing obnoxiously loud, dancing, and yelling. They didn't seem to care, she reasoned, so why should she? And with that decision made she wrenched her feet out of the awful shoes. She wiggled her toes, making sure they could still move as a bartender approached her.

"Would you like anything m'mam?" He said with a slow, southern drawl and a polite smile on his face.

'Umm . . . no thank you." She returned his smile.

"Suit yourself. You alone? Doesn't seem right for a pretty lady like you to be here all by yourself." His tone was hinting, and his gaze was too. Was he hitting on her? A grin spread across his face as she stared at him, not knowing what to say. Oh God. He was hitting on her. Lucy resisted the urge to laugh, not wanting to break his 'achy, brakey, heart'. The comparison made her want to laugh all over again. She gave him a quick once over: handsome, with intense blue eyes, but too much of a cowboy for her taste. Plus, she had John.

"No, actually. He's over there." She motioned to the phone area where John stood, obviously in a heated argument.

"He seems a little uptight, don't ya think?" Lucy sighed and looked up at him.

"It's been a long day."

"Wanna tell me about it?" He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. "By the way, the name's Steve."

"Lucy and no, not particularly."

"Ya sure, darlin'? I'm a great listener."

"No thanks. Excuse me." She quickly got up from the stool, grabbing her shoes, and headed over to John only to make a turn around as she heard his voice above the music. Yelling about something with his grandfather, his face twisted into a range of expressions. Instead of trying to talk to him, interrupt his conversation only to have him yell at her, she turned around once again. The small dance floor had only a couple of dancers and a jukebox. Lucy ran back to the bar and picked up her purse. She dug through it, sticking her hands in blindly feeling for a cool piece of metal. To her luck, she found one and made it through the small crowd of cowboys and girls surrounding the jukebox. She stuck the quarter in the slot and found a song that seemed familiar, and seemed like a good song to dance to, punching in it's number. She cleared a pathway to the floor, and stood there as the song began to play.

Like two sparrows in a hurricane . . .

Tryin' to find their way,

With ahead full of dreams and faith that could move anything.

She watched the look on John's face as he hung up the phone, his eyes never leaving her. He walked over to where she stood with a smirk on his face. She outstretched her hand and he took it as they began to dance.

They've heard it's all uphill,

But all they know is how they feel.

He wrapped his arms around her, and she enjoyed the comfort of the embrace. They let the song put them in another place where only each other existed. Where there were no arguing families, no inconvenient hospital shifts, no ungrateful patients.

The world says they'll never make it,

But love says they will.

But it was inevitable that reality would seep into their consciousness, and it did. "We should get going." She whispered.

"Why?" She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked into his soft brown eyes.

"Your family's waiting."

"Forget about them."

"But John-"

"Luce, all I want to do is go home." She saw a weariness in his eyes, and he was winning her over. This is what she had wanted since the beginning, she thought. So why does it feel like they're surrendering a battle? This is what John really wanted. And she knew, when he looked at her the way he was looking at her now, nothing else seemed to matter.

"Let's go."

She reached across the long spread of square shaped boxes and directed her hand to the one containing the egg rolls. She grabbed one, hot and greasy and threw it down on her plate. The living room T.V. blared sounds of Christmas merriment as Robbie stripped the Christmas wrapping paper off his beloved Red Rider BB Gun. The heat was on full blast, and Lucy glanced outside the window just in time to see the first snowflake of the new bunch fall lightly to the ground. She looked across dinner to John, happily slithering up a Chinese noodle. This wasn't exactly Christmas ham with all the fixings and fancy silver wear with three different forks on the place setting, but it was comfortable, it was more them. It was home.

"Could you pass the rice?" She handed it over to him and he smiled. "Now," he said, "Is this what you had in mind for Christmas?" She pondered this for a moment, a brief moment, which was all she needed.

"Yes." She found herself looking around the room again, and her gaze fell on that sorry little tree again, and felt a pang of guilt when she realized its top was still bare. "But I would have to change a couple things."

"Oh?"

"The tree would have a top." She watched as he quickly scanned the area for a makeshift tree topper. Finally he stopped, got up and emptied the box of fried chicken on to his plate, taking it to the tree, where he placed it triumphantly on top. He sat down in his spot across from her.

"Next." She smiled a devious little smile as she voiced her next wish.

"You'd be sitting a lot closer to me."

"My pleasure." And he moved himself over to her, wrapping his arms around her.

"Perfect." He kissed her forehead, his lips wet on her skin.

"Merry Christmas, Lucy."

"Merry Christmas, John."

THE END