December 9, 2000
Standard Disclaimers and Warnings apply
Winter 214AC
The majority of decorations in the house were done professionally. The wreaths and bows, and the garlands and lights were all put up by a person who was paid to do so, and every year, the 'house' looked spectacular. Straight from a Home Journal.
But this room was different. This room was held apart from all the other rooms in the house.
This was the family room. The den. The one place in the entire house that was decorated according to the family's tastes and desires.
"Dad, there aren't enough lights over here."
"Where?" Trowa asked, his body engulfed in twinkling multi-colored Christmas lights.
"Over here," the nine-year-old boy pointed.
"Triton, can you hand me that box of ornaments over there?" Quatre asked, removing glittery construction paper snowflakes the twins had made two years before.
"Here, Dad. Are you really going ta put those up this year?" he asked, eyeing the multi-colored snowflakes.
"Of course! They're a part of our tree, aren't they?" Quatre replied, taking the box from him. "And you and Tristan made them. Why wouldn't we put them up?"
"'Cause they're old," Triton said, fingering one of the bent corners.
"That's just one of the reasons why they're so special," Quatre replied, smiling as he spread the tissue paper aside and pulled out more hand-made decorations. This one of a felt bell with ribbons and in the center, an oval-shaped cutout with a picture of the twins from the Christmas before. There was another one that the twins had made for their little sister. Quatre brushed his fingers over their chibi-faces lovingly.
"Daddy! Here are the pictures I colored for you today!" the four-year old bundle of cuteness sang, holding out a fist-full of purple, orange, red, green, and blue colored paper 'ornaments'.
"Oh, very pretty, Callie," Quatre cooed, taking the paper cutouts from the child and studying them.
"Okay, that's it for the lights," Trowa said, having effectively detangled himself from the strands of lights.
"Yeah! Let's get the decorations up now!" Tristan exclaimed, jumping from foot to foot with excitements
"Yea! Yea! Déck-kor-a-shuns!" Calista agreed, clapping her hands.
"Okay, okay," Quatre laughed. "Here, let's put these on first," he said, handing over the paper multi-colored ornaments. "Oh, and don't forget these." He handed over a bag full of threaded-silk covered balls.
Triton and Tristan reached for the balls; Trowa, with Calista in arms, took the paper ornaments.
"Where should this one go, baby?"
"Here!" the four-year-old answered, pointing.
"Triton, try moving that one up a little."
"Don't put that one there! It looks stupid."
"That's too far out."
"Do we have to use these? They're so old!"
"Yes."
"Okay, ready for the bows?"
"Dad, something needs to go right here, it's too bare!"
"Hey! Where's the tinsel?"
"Calista, the tinsel goes on the tree, love, not on your head."
"I'm a pretty princess!"
"Yes you are, now let's get this tinsel on the tree."
"Tristan, don't throw the tinsel like that! You're getting it every--Oh, I *know* you didn't just throw tinsel at me, young man. I kno--okay, that's it. Take *this*! And *this*! And--ack!"
It took two hours to finish decorating the tree, and another hour just to clean up... but the end result was worth it.
Later that night, when all the kiddies were tucked away in bed and *hopefully* asleep, Quatre and Trowa sat in their family room, studying their tree.
"It looks good," Quatre murmured, contentedly, his fingers played over Trowa's hands as he leaned back against the taller man.
"Hmmm... they did a good job," Trowa agreed softly. "We should take a picture."
"It's missing just one thing," Quatre smiled, disentangling himself from his love's arms.
"Oh?"
Quatre went over to the last box left in the room, opening it reverently. He smiled back towards his love, pulling the precious ornament free from its packaging.
"Here," he said, handing it over to Trowa.
Trowa looked down at the last ornament and smiled. Walking over to the tree, he carefully hung the ornament under the five-point star, stepping back to view the effect.
"Now it's perfect," Quatre whispered.
"Yes."
From under the twinkling star, a some-what large milky ball hung. Shining off its surface were five familiar faces. Scripted over them was: Our First Christmas, 197AC.
End of Part 4: Decorating the Tree
Andrea Readwolf
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