A Very Kerry Christmas

Part 4: The First Noel

Charlie began pulling his uncle's hand. "Come see! He was here! There's a bike and it's RED!"

Fiona willed herself awake and tried to stall for time. "Have ya gone to the toilet yet?" The boy stopped tugging on Michael for a fraction of a second as he shook his head. "Well, off with ya then while we get ourselves sorted." The boy scampered away, Fiona shouting another directive. "And don't forget to wash your hands!" That should buy them another minute.

She turned toward her partner. "Now I understand why me mother was always so knackered on Christmas Day." She tried to smooth down her hair, make it somewhat presentable.

"You look beautiful." Michael reassured her, lifting her spirits immediately. He rose from the bed. "Tea?"

"Considerin' how the day's started, something stronger might be in order." She threw back the duvet, ready to face the morning.

Michael grinned. "Whiskey milk?"

Fiona was soon at his side. "I was thinking more in terms of coffee... strong coffee... black." The sound of flushing announced the end of their respite, Charlie emerging soon after. His eyes lit up as he saw the pair upright. He rushed to them, grabbed each by the hand, and led them toward the bounty of packages that awaited.

There was the bike, shiny and red, a small two-wheeler outfitted with training wheels, a helmet hanging from the handlebars. Charlie squealed as he mounted his prize. He took a few pedals around the parlour as Fiona scrambled to remove her precious snow globe from his path. Michael guided the bicyclist through the front door letting him take a quick spin, promising a longer ride when they were all suitably dressed for the weather. The boy begrudgingly complied but cheered immediately when he was reminded that there might be other surprises for him under the tree.

Michael put the kettle on, then put the coffee into the press as Charlie headed toward his stocking. It was filled with nuts, an orange, a few small cars, and the wished for candy canes. Michael whispered to the woman beside him. "What did you do with the others?" The batch they had made last night was plentiful.

"Put them in a safe place. We have enough to give him one every year until he's thirty!" The former spy grimaced at the thought of a decades old piece of candy being placed in a future stocking.

Charlie zoomed his new cars around the room giving the couple a chance to enjoy their coffee. Somewhat revitalised, they took their steaming mugs and settled near the tree ready to see what else 'Santa' brought.

"Aren't you goin' to open the others?" Fiona asked, as there were still several gifts with Charlie's name on them.

"In a minute. I'm still playing." He scooted his car through the legs of a chair.

Fiona sighed. "This could take all morning. When I was his age I tore through the presents as quickly as I could."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Michael would have predicted as much. He thought back to his own boyhood. Nate rushed through opening whatever might be left under the tree for him. His Christmas was over within minutes. Michael had a more patient, methodical approach. He opened one gift at a time, playing with it for a while before opening another. He got the full measure of the gifts that way, extending the few festive moments the Westen household enjoyed throughout the year. He remembered his mom soaking up the joy, holding it in reserve for when things turned ugly once more, which they always did. He watched his nephew and understood his methodology.

Finally, Charlie was ready to move on. There were three packages left: two from Santa and one from MaFi and Michael. He opened the first one from Santa, an immediate slump of his shoulders proceeded. The adults glanced at each other, wondering what caused the sour reaction.

"Charlie?" Michael moved closer and peeked inside the box. "Trains. I thought you asked Santa for trains."

"I did." He folded his arms across his chest. "But these are girl trains!" Michael picked up the engines: a forest green one named 'Emily' and a lavender 'Rosie'. He recognised the problem instantly.

Fiona's hackles were raised. "And what's wrong with girl trains?"

"They're not strong like the boy trains. They can't help Thomas." Charlie scowled.

"Excuse me... " Fiona was ready to argue the point but Michael interceded. He had this covered.

"You know, Charlie, you're wrong about the girl thing. In my experience, the women in my life were the strongest and bravest people I ever met. Your grandma and Fiona helped me ALL the time. In fact, they saved my life." His eyes moved toward Fiona, her eyes growing moist. "Trust me. Thomas is one lucky engine to have these two by his side." Charlie's face brightened. He took the trains back, anxious to get them out of the packaging now. Then, he rushed out of the room to get Thomas so he could introduce the tank engine to his new 'friends'.

Michael re-joined Fiona who rested her head on his shoulder, his words a Christmas gift for her heart. Soon, the boy returned, introductions made. The former spy encouraged his nephew to open the other gift from Father Christmas. This time, Charlie's reaction was joyful from the start. Three more trains to add to his collection- and all of these engines were male. Charlie quickly linked all of the cars together. They chugged around the carpet, the boy bellowing, "Toot, toot!"

"There's still one more package for you, Charlie. Don't you want to open it?" Fiona asked as trains circled around their feet.

"Later! I wanna open it last." Charlie stopped and looked at the couple. "Did Santa leave any breakfast?"

"Not so much as a bun." She winked at the boy. "But he ate the yoghurt that ya left." The boy's eyes darted to the table. The yoghurt container lay on its side emptied of its contents. The carrot was half gone and the pint of Guinness was drained. "But I think we can manage to find ya somethin'."

A simple breakfast of granola and fruit, with yoghurt, of course, quickly appeared and was devoured with gusto, Charlie needing to fill his belly without wasting too much time. Before long he was off once again, diving toward the tree and packages beneath it. Michael and Fiona followed suit. The boy's enthusiasm was infectious and even Michael was succumbing to the Christmas spirit.

"Open mine!" Charlie scooted on his belly to get Fiona's present. A box wrapped in paper adorned with Ninja Turtles wearing Santa hats was placed in her hands.

She glanced at Michael, a sly smile on her face. "Is the wrapping a clue that a Italian Renaissance masterpiece lies within? Or perhaps a trip to Florence?" Michael frowned, completely lost about her meaning. "Never mind. You really have to start watching the telly with him a bit more."

"I picked it out!" Charlie crouched on his knees, his face alight with excitement.

"Then, I will love it to be sure." She beckoned him closer and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. She tore off the paper quickly and opened the box. Inside rested her gift, chosen with love and care. Her eyes popped in amazement as she slowly lifted the garment: a pair of bright pink flannel pyjamas emblazoned with cakes, cookies, and pastries of all sorts. It was possibly the most heinous thing she had ever seen! She was rendered speechless for a moment before she regained her composure. Charlie's smile had vanished as he watched her reaction but soon returned as she announced, "This is the best gift I have ever received!" And it truly was, a gift from the heart filled with love. She just needed to figure out how she could avoid ever putting it on her body. He jumped into her lap and rubbed the soft fabric.

Tears began to form as she listened to the youngster explain his choice. "The lady helped me."

"Did she now?" Fiona wondered if she could discover her identity and possibly plant a little surprise for her- under her car.

"It's an extra, extra small." The boy reported the essential information.

"It will fit perfectly then." She placed a hand on his shoulder.

Michael broke in seeing Fiona was a bit overcome by emotion. "Charlie came up with the idea all on his own. " The boy nodded in agreement. "Seems he was worried about you being cold at night." Fiona's brow furrowed. "Apparently, when he comes into our room, he noticed you aren't wearing any pyjamas." Fiona swallowed hard.

"Now you don't have to be naked anymore." Charlie smiled.

"And Michael helped ya with this, did he?" The boy nodded once again and shared a conspiratorial smile with his uncle. "That's grand. There's no need for me ever to be naked again." Her smile vanished as she delivered her message to her lover. Michael's smile also disappeared at this pronouncement.

Charlie jumped up. "Put them on! Put them on!"

"Yes, Fi, put them on. I think we would both enjoy seeing you model them for us." It was time for a little payback for her comment.

Fiona looked at Charlie's face, filled with excitement about his gift. She smiled at Charlie, glared at Michael, and left the room to change. The youngster whispered to his uncle. "I think she likes them." Ah, the innocence of youth, mused Michael.

Moments later, she returned. A pink flannel blob. Charlie blurted out the second she emerged. "You look butiful!" Fiona vowed to remove every mirror in the house until spring but the joy in Charlie's face was some consolation.

Michael had the biggest grin that she had ever seen on his face. "Yes, she does, but she always looks beautiful." Her expression softened as he drew closer. "Reminds me of that bunny suit the kid gets in that Christmas movie."

"You are enjoying this way too much." She pulled away, her eyes flashing a bit of anger.

Michael nodded. "Do you blame me? Seeing you this way, well let's just say it makes the whole Christmas thing worthwhile, Fi - the Santa trip, the tree, the assembly projects... "

He began to laugh at their new reality. Just a few weeks ago, he had hit rock bottom in his life. He had lost everything that he held dear; he had even lost himself along the way. Now, the love of his life stood before him, dressed in a way that he would never have imagined, the joy in his nephew's face unmistakable. He was a lucky man he was! Charlie had no idea why his uncle was so amused but the laugh was contagious and both he and Fiona joined in, ultimately ending with a group hug.

Soon, Charlie broke away. "Now open Michael's."

"A present from Michael?" Fiona queried. "I hope it's a deadbolt for the bedroom door."

"Not exactly, though it's a good idea." They all settled back down as Charlie passed her a box. This gift was wrapped by the shop, shiny red paper topped with silver ribbon. "Maybe Fi should open that one later." Michael was a bit hesitant for her to open this particular gift in front of Charlie. But Charlie would not be denied. He pushed the box closer, his expression somewhat insistent.

Fiona once again tore into the wrapping. She removed the lid, pulled apart the tissue paper, and spotted her surprise. She smiled shyly at her partner, clearly pleased with the contents. Charlie poked his head into the box. "I wanna see." He lifted the garment - a diaphanous fabric with lacy embellishments. Charlie's nose wrinkled in dismay.

"See, I got you pyjamas, too." Michael noted.

"They won't keep you very warm." Charlie examined the sleepwear, shaking his head at his uncle's foolishness.

"I don't know, I think I could be quite hot in them." Fiona eyed her partner as she made the comment.

Michael reddened slightly, and then explained their possible use. "They're for summer, you know, when it's warmer." That seemed to satisfy the youngster.

Now it was Michael's turn to be the recipient of presents. Two packages were placed before him. "Open mine first!" Charlie handed him a box. Michael carefully removed the wrapping and looked into the box. A black wool flat cap rested inside. He slowly removed it, a grin on his face.

"Charlie was concerned that ya didn't have a hat. Afraid ya'd catch a chill since I insist that he wear one when he mucks about." She paused watching the man stare at the cap. "Seems he had a theme goin'. Wantin' to keep us warm. He choose that one to make ya look more Irish." Charlie nodded in agreement.

Michael placed the cap on his head. "How does it look?" He directed the comment to his nephew who gave him a thumbs up sign.

Then he faced Fiona who stifled a giggle. "I wanted to mock you but I rather like it. Now, open mine."

Michael took the package and handled it gingerly. Gifts from Fiona tended to have blades or detonators so it was best to take care. Her face remained impassive as he opened it hesitantly.

The former spy was puzzled by the contents of the package. It contained a pair of toy guns.

"Wow!" Charlie ran his fingers over the faux weapons.

"Don't even think about it, young man. These are for ages eight and up. You'll have to wait a few more years before ya can properly handle them." She spoke semi-sternly as she delivered her warning before addressing Michael. "It's a Clear Shot Blaster with targeting scope. It holds four rounds and there's spare ammo. Foam, unfortunately." Michael thought he should understand the purpose of this particular gift, but it completely escaped him. If Charlie was prohibited from using the blasters, what exactly was the purpose? Fiona sighed, now regretting her choice. She began to explain. "When Madeline decided to stop smoking, she got one of those patches, you know, to help. I thought these might wean us from our own addiction." They had recently discussed that although they did not miss the life they left behind, they did miss the feel of a trigger on their fingers. Fiona thought that perhaps these would suffice. "It was a stupid idea..."

Michael smiled. It was a perfect gift. His mother had been right. He had picked the right girl. "It's perfect." They looked into one another's eyes, momentarily forgetting their young charge.

Charlie giggled. "Stupid." Fiona's smile faded immediately. She focused on the boy, then rolled her eyes. Tomorrow, she would add that one to her banned household word list. But for now she turned her attention back to Michael.

"I assume since there are two of them, they'll be some 'competition' involved." He questioned his partner, knowing how her mind worked. Of course, he usually didn't mind these games of hers. There was usually a mutually beneficial prize for the victor.

She shook her head. "Won't be much of a competition. I'll kick your... " Fiona stopped and noticed that she had captured the youngster's attention. Charlie stared at the pair, wondering what MaFi was going to kick. "...Zombie blaster away if you use the weapon irresponsibly."

"Nice save." Michael noted her quick thinking.

One lone present remained; the one Charlie had been saving for last. He moved toward it, both adults watching his movements. He took his time opening the gift. A gasp of surprise followed.

"Twain twack!" It was a set of track with a tunnel, a bridge, and even a station. Charlie's eyes widened in delight at he tore the box opened. Track was soon scattered all along the floor.

Before long, Michael and Charlie had constructed a route that circled the coffee table and wound under the chair. When they ran out of actual track, they lay down imaginary rails. They crawled around the carpet as Charlie explained what each engine had to do to help Thomas on his adventure. This time, Michael was able to choose his engine. He steered away from Charlie's favourites, as well as, the dreaded James. Under Fiona's watchful eye, he chose 'Emily', not really his first choice, but one that would garner him favours from his paramour. A pleased look appeared on her face and he knew it would reap rewards at a later time.

Charlie pressed 'Rosie' into Fiona's hand, urging her to join the game. She looked at the engine regretting choosing a purple train. She wished she had put a bit more thought into her selections. She had a dreadful feeling that she was destined to be this purple train in all future games. Next time in Tralee, she would make a point in revisiting the toyshop and select an engine more suited to her style and personality. But for today, she pushed 'Rosie' about the floor, making sure she outpaced all the other engines.

The play continued for some time, Charlie filled with energy. The adults began to run out of enthusiasm for the game. "Why are you stopping?" Charlie questioned his uncle who settled against the chair.

"Emily is out of gas. She's at the station to fill up." Michael explained.

Charlie scrunched up his face. "She's a steam engine. She doesn't need gas."

Michael nodded slowly. "I meant she was out of water. I'm gonna see where Fi is. Maybe she needs some help." Fiona had disappeared a while ago insisting that she had to change lest she damage her new pyjamas. Charlie nodded and continued playing independently, his imagination driving the game.

He found her huddled in the kitchen, clad in more Fiona-like garments, savouring a few minutes of quiet while sipping tea. "Hiding out?" He took the cup from her hand, taking a sip of the comforting liquid.

"My knees were giving out. Apparently, I need to find a new exercise regime if we are going to play trains continuously." She grabbed the mug back encircling her fingers around it.

Michael stretched, his lower back strained from the activity. Fiona noticed his slight grimace. "I think this is why me mam told me to have babbies in my twenties." Michael just smiled thinking about the pair in their twenties, each causing mayhem in their own fashion, neither thinking about raising a small boy. Yet here there were- new parents in their forties, trying to navigate the world they found themselves in, normal to most people, but completely outside their realm of expertise.

Charlie bounded into the kitchen. "I'm done playing trains. I wanna ride my new bike. Can I? Can I, please?"

"It's 'May I?' Not in your jammies. Get dressed. Michael will help ya, he will, while I start on Christmas tea. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to cook?" She turned to her partner. He saw by her expression it was a somewhat rhetorical question as she had no intention of leaving the warmth and peace of the kitchen to run down the lane after Charlie riding his new bike. The boy had already disappeared, eager to dress, and try out his new wheels. Michael sighed; at least he would be standing upright. He put on his coat slowly as his nephew whipped passed, plunging outdoors ready for the next activity.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Fiona's kitchen duties were minimal. She placed the turkey crown in the oven, set the praties on to boil, and prepped the vegetables for roasting. Then, she headed toward the window, peering out to spy on the males of the household. She watched as Charlie pedalled furiously, Michael running alongside. The bicycle had training wheels for stability but the uneven ground could easily topple the inexperienced rider. Charlie's face was alight with excitement, his cheeks rosy from the cold. But it was Michael's expression that took her by surprise! She had not seen him look so happy, so content in years. His self-absorption during the Burn Notice years seemed to have drained away, his thoughts now totally concentrated on this new life, this new family. He smiled as he guarded his charge, lending a balancing hand whenever necessary. He spotted her at the window, causing his smile to widen even more. She soon joined them, Charlie shouting once he spotted her. "Look at me! Look at me!" Laughter pierced the quiet of the woodland as both adults ran up and down the lane, chasing their wee one, gentle flakes of snow falling about, a Christmas Day to remember.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The last morsel of mince pie was consumed and Charlie dashed off to play with his new trains. Michael and Fiona began the task of washing up. They worked several minutes in contented silence, one washing, the other drying, working together in perfect unison. Finally, Fiona spoke. "I was thinking that next year, perhaps, we'd try to pull together a more traditional meal. You know, roast a turkey, dressing, that sort of thing."

"A turkey?" Michael frowned. "For three of us? We'll be eating turkey for weeks."

Fiona paused. "Yeah, you're right. Well, I suppose we could invite someone over."

Michael sensed a set up. "Someone over?" He did not like where this conversation was headed.

"Me mam, perhaps." Fiona continued washing without looking at her partner's reaction but she could sense him tense. "Maybe, Sean and his family?"

The of thought sitting down to dinner with Norah Glenanne was akin to sitting down with Andrew Strong. Both people he knew were still alive but hoped to never see again. Michael was reluctant to bring this to Fiona's attention. He had a few brief conversations with Fi's mother in their later Miami years, but the woman's tone was always icy. There was no mistaking her enmity toward him. Michael was wise enough to stay clear of insulting Fiona's mother so he chose the easier target.

"Sean?" Michael frowned. "And what would Sean and I possibly talk about these days?"

Fiona stopped and faced him, leaning her hands on the counter. "I don't know. Maybe ya could compare scars and bullet wounds. That sort of thing. Or maybe ya could just watch the wee ones play while ya had a Bailey's in honour of the season. His youngest is only a couple of years older than Charlie. It might be nice to introduce him to his quasi-cousins. Give him a sense of family."

"Cousins?" His brow furrowed.

"Yes, Michael, cousins. Or would ya prefer he have a brother or two?" Fiona hoped that particular option would put away any qualms about seeing her brothers' children in the future.

"Cousin, definitely cousin." Michael turned pensive as he recalled a conversation with Nate years ago. His brother had just revealed the truth that Michael already knew: that Nate was about to become a father. His brother quipped that it might be nice if his future child might one day have a cousin. And now, Fiona was presenting him with that exact scenario. A cousin. It was just what Nate wanted. Michael flashed a sad smile with a slight nod of his head. "Maybe."

Fiona was slightly encouraged by the fact the man was willing to entertain the possibility of including some of her family in future holiday celebrations. She returned to the washing up, her spirits lifted.

Michael saw the tension leave Fi's body. There was no point in arguing about next Christmas. He had 365 days to prevent a family reunion. He was bound to think of something.

He placed the final plate in the cabinet, the two ready to re-join Charlie. They left the kitchen together and spotted Charlie immediately. He was fast asleep under the tree, his face resting on some train track, his hands still clutching a pair of engines. Fiona's shoulders slumped. Once more they had failed at putting the boy to bed like normal people. "We are so not good at this."

"I don't know, Fi. Charlie had a great day. We all did - even me." Fiona was taken aback. It was quite an admission coming from the man. He pulled her closer. "Merry Christmas, Fi."

"Happy Christmas, Michael." She muttered back. Their lips and hearts met as the day drew to a close. "Why don't ya put him to bed and I'll go try on my Christmas gift from ya. Ya know, see if it fits." Michael thought that was an especially good idea. She slipped from his arms, whispering as she went. "Later we can plan what we want to do tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Michael was much more interested with what was going to happen in about fifteen minutes once Charlie was nestled in his own room.

"St. Stephen's Day." She called over her shoulder as she made her way to their bedroom.

St. Stephen's Day? What the hell was that? He wondered.

Her voice drifted away as she disappeared from sight. "I was thinking... maybe we could go to Dingle... join in the festivities..."

Michael released a large breath. It was going to be a very long year!

-An Deireadh-

A/N: Hope your holidays were as joyous for you and your family as it was for the O'Donovans! Athbhliain faoi Mhaise Daoibh! Wishing you the best for 2015!