Wishing You A...by QueenoftheCapes
Part OneDecember, 1993
All the Kents down in Smallville liked Christmas a lot; but Miss Lane, who lived quite far from Smallville, did not.
Or at least, that's how it seemed to Clark. While most of the Daily Planet staff bustled around the newsroom, stringing shiny garlands over railings, putting paper Santas on desks, and generally decking the bullpen with boughs of holly, his partner remained completely focused with typing on her computer. The only clue that she might not be utterly oblivious to the festive atmosphere was a glare on her features that deepened every time someone wished her a merry Christmas. Clark half expected her to reply with a “Bah, Humbug”.
The door to Perry's office swung open, and their editor stepped out, clutching a piece of paper. “Alright, everyone, listen up!”
Clark and his coworkers all froze, and even Lois tore her eyes away from the oh-so-riveting monitor.
“The Planet is going to be having its annual Christmas shindig soon, and we need a few extra hands. I'll be putting this up by the java station–” He waved the paper slightly. “–and anyone who cares to take on some of these tasks will have the eternal gratitude of your Editor in Chief.” The response from the crowd averaged out to a non-committal hum, and most began drifting back to their respective desks.
“Of course,” Perry continued, securing everyone’s attention once again, “If these Completely Voluntary positions don't get filled, then that would put a damper on the party, which would make the bigwigs upset. And if the bigwigs get upset, that makes me upset. Are we clear?”
The response this time had a bit more enthusiasm behind it, or at least something that passed for enthusiasm. Perry gave a satisfied nod and marched off to tack the list of openings behind the coffee maker. On his way back, he stopped by Lois' desk. “Lois…”
Lois put on an expression of consummate regret. “Oh, I'm sorry, Perry. I just can't.”
Perry gave a long-suffering sigh. “Darlin', I'm not asking you to cater the dang thing. Just maybe show up in a Santa hat or some antlers and wish the man who signs our paychecks a merry Christmas. Is that so much to ask?”
She squirmed. “Now don't get me wrong, Perry, I'd love to! Really! It's just…um…’’
“Just what?” Perry raised an eyebrow. “Another fish died, this year? You're coming down with Seasonal Affect Disorder again and don't want to be contagious? Your Great Aunt Matilda is visiting from out of town, somehow, despite having died when you were four?”
Lois winced at that last one. “No, of course not, Perry, I just…uh…I'm…Jewish!”
Perry's eyebrows raised. “You…what?”
“Uh, yes!” Lois regained her composure and looked their boss right in the eyes. “I never really had a reason to mention it before, but yes: completely Jewish. Orthodox, even! So, you see, going to a Christmas party would be completely against my religion.”
Perry blinked. “Uh…well. That…certainly changes things. I'll…uh…have a word with HR.” He headed towards the elevators, looking slightly perplexed.
“I didn't know you were Jewish,” said Clark.
“Well, there's a lot about me you don't know,” Lois replied. She cleared her throat and stood. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have important things to do. Have fun with your holiday…party…thing.” And then she practically bolted for the stairs.
Part TwoAt the coffee station, Cat sidled up to Jimmy as he was signing his name on the line for Secret Santa Organizer. “Ah, so you're the man I need to talk to!”
Jimmy's fingers fumbled as he tried to set the pen down, but he managed to catch it before it could fall into the coffee pot. “Uh, what?”
She grabbed the lapel of his jacket and spun him around to face her. His heart raced. “Clark Kent. I need to be his secret Santa. I've got a gift idea for him that'll definitely melt the ice and get him under my tree, if you get my drift.”. She grinned wickedly.
Jimmy stepped back, shrugging out of her grip, and brushed himself off. “Sorry, Cat, but there's already a rule that the gift assignments have to be random. I've got a new software program that would be just perfect for the job, but, y'know…” His smile dimmed. “Perry thinks we're better off with just slips of paper and a fish bowl.”
“A…fish bowl.” Cat frowned. “And you can't just…fudge things a little bit for little old me?” She pouted at him.
Jimmy shook his head. “Sorry, no. Boss’s orders. But, you know…” He leaned against the coffee station and gave her his suavest look. “You're always welcome under *my* Christmas tree, Cat…”
She made a noise that sounded like a snort and stomped off.
Jimmy sighed. “Maybe next year, then.”
Part ThreeThe next day, Lois had barely gotten settled at her desk when Perry suddenly burst out of his office and marched straight up to her. “Darlin’, I've got the whole thing straightened out,” he announced.
Lois felt flustered. “Oh, um….got what straightened out?”
“The whole Christmas party thing,” he explained, beaming. “HR agreed that it wasn't completely fair to employees of different faiths to only observe the one holiday, so we're going to include a little more variety in the festivities.”
Lois could feel a sense of panic building, but she tried not to show it. “Oh, that's, really nice of you…generous, even…Um…”
“And you're in charge of Hanukkah!” he announced with a broad grin.
Lois froze. “What?”
“When the boys in HR heard you were so passionate about not compromising your religion, it made sense that you should take point on making sure your culture is represented properly. I can't wait to learn more about your people's holiday! I understand potato pancakes are involved?”
A nervous laugh escaped her. Potato pancakes? Was…was he joking? Or was that a real thing? “Well, uh, there's…definitely food…”. That was a safe bet, right? Or…wait, didn't some religions do fasting? What if this was a fasting kind of holiday?
Perry seemed oblivious to her growing distress. “I'm looking forward to it!” he said, and smiled even bigger before disappearing into his office.
Once he was gone, Lois buried her face in her hands and groaned.
Part FourClark stepped out of the elevator and headed straight for the coffee station, whistling as he poured himself a cup. The sign-up sheet already looked nearly full, he noticed. Just as he started to prepare a coffee for his partner, Ralph appeared by his elbow.
“Hey, Kent! Have you heard? They're canceling the Christmas party and replacing it with some generic Holiday thing!”
“What?”
“Oh yeah,” Ralph responded cheerily. “Got it straight from the horse's mouth: Someone did a bunch of whining that Christmas wasn't inclusive enough, so HR decided to axe it. The red and green decorations are gonna be swapped for beige and taupe, and instead of a tree, we're going to have a ‘Winter Holiday Plant'. I heard it's going to be a fern or something…”
Clark shook his head in disbelief. “You got this directly from someone in HR?”
“Not in HR.” Ralph waved a hand dismissively. “Stephanie in Advertising. Her office is right down the hall from them.”
Clark frowned. “I thought Stephanie wasn't speaking to you.”
“No, but Rodney down in the presses is. Like I said: straight from the horse's mouth!” Ralph poured a little more coffee into his cup and grabbed a packet of sugar. “Well, we probably can't say the other thing anymore, so Happy Winter Holiday, Clark!”
“Uh…” Clark stared in disbelief at the man's retreating back. “...You too.”
Part FiveCat spotted Jimmy in the copier room, apparently waiting for a batch of papers to finish printing. Sure enough, he had a large fishbowl with him, half full of crumpled pieces of paper. She dove into the room, closing the door behind her. “Are those the names for the secret santa?”
Jimmy startled at her entrance. “Uh, yeah…”
Cat advanced. “Jimmy…I will give you ten dollars if you leave me alone with that fishbowl for a few minutes.”
“Never!” Jimmy tightened his grip on the fishbowl. “Mr. White would have my head!”
“Twenty dollars,” Cat offered.
The young gofer stood straighter. “Cat, I can't be bought! Mr. White gave me a job, and I'm going to do it right, and that's final!”
Cat sighed. “I know the phone number of a girl in Research who thinks you're cute.”
That made him pause. “Someone in Research thinks I'm cute?”
Cat nodded.
Jimmy stared down at the fishbowl for a bit. “Hey, Cat? I suddenly have to go to the bathroom for a few minutes. Could you watch this for me while I'm gone?”
Cat grinned. “With pleasure!”
As soon as the door closed behind him, she reached into the bowl. “Alright, Studville, where are you…”
Part SixLois went to the java station to refill her coffee. She took deep breaths, trying not to panic. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, she told herself. After all, if anyone in the Planet actually celebrated Hanukkah, they would have said something about the Christmas party before now, right? Right. And if nobody here celebrated it, then nobody would know that she was completely bluffing her way through this thing! Maybe all she'd need is a cake, some fancy-looking knicknacks, and a whole lot of Grade A Bull—
“Hey, Lois!”
Lois turned around to see Frank from sports walking up to her. Todd the theater critic was right behind him. “Uh…hi?”
The two men smiled at her. “Hi, yourself!” Frank said. “We heard you arranged for us to finally have some representation at the party.”
…Us?! Did he say ‘Us’?!
Todd reached past her for the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. “So, are you going to bring in donuts?”
Was that supposed to be an insult? 'Lois can't cook, so just bring in some donuts'? She kept her smile plastered onto her face. “The menu is going to be fantastic,” she promised. “Very…culturally appropriate and…traditional. Now, if you'll excuse me…”
Frank waved cheerfully as she scuttled back to her desk. “I'll bring my appetite, Lois!”
“Looking forward to it, Lois!” Todd called.
Lois closed her eyes and resisted the sudden urge to scream.
Part SevenWhen Jimmy returned to the copier room, he officially did not see Cat Grant sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by uncrumpled papers, the empty fishbowl in her lap.
“He's not in here!” She looked up at him. “Did you get everyone’s names?”
“Everyone,” Jimmy confirmed. “There were a few opt-outs, but CK definitely wasn't one of them. Maybe somebody picked him already.”
Cat looked startled. “Some names were picked already?”
“Well, yeah.” Jimmy reached down and took the fishbowl from her. “People have been picking names from it since this morning.”
“Unbelievable!” Cat sprang to her feet and raced out the door, grabbing a random piece of crumpled paper almost as an after-thought.
“Hey, wait! What about that phone-number?!” Jimmy called, but the door swung shut behind her.
Part EightBy the end of the day, Clark had started to worry about his partner. Lois had seemed to be more and more preoccupied all day, frequently ducking out of the office with the flimsiest excuses (were his own excuses that bad?!) and finally leaving early without so much as a word. So, as soon as Superman's daily patrol was over, he landed in an alley near Lois’ apartment and Clark Kent jogged up to her door.
He knocked. “Lois?”
There was a long pause before he finally heard the racket of her locks being undone. She pulled the door open. “Hi, Clark.”
As soon as he stepped inside, she closed the door behind him and locked it again. “Hey. Um, are you okay?”
With the last lock done and the chain in place, Lois rested her forehead against the door and sighed. “I…no, not really.”
Clark's concern grew. “What's wrong?”
Lois threw her hands in the air and whirled to face him. “Everything! I screwed up big time!”
“Is it your Hannukah thing?” Clark guessed. When she nodded, he took a step towards her. “Maybe I can help. If you just tell me what to do…”
Lois broke down in tears. “That’s just it: I don't know what to do!” she wailed. “I lied, Clark! I'm not Jewish, I don't know the first thing about Hanukkah, and now everyone at work thinks I am and people keep coming up to me to talk about brisket and own-eggs and some place called Shul! I'll probably have to convert now, just to save face! Can you even convert to Judaism if you're a woman? Don't they have to cut something off?!”
“Woah, hang on there.” Clark reached out to still her now-frantic pacing. “You're…not Jewish?”
Her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head.
Clark's forehead scrunched. “So then, why did you lie?”
Lois sighed. “Because…Christmas has always been complicated for me.” She trudged over to her sofa and sank down onto it. Clark followed, seating himself at the other end. “Look, my family…doesn't really have the best holiday memories. A lot of them were spent with my dad elsewhere and my mom passed out drunk. When they finally split, I tried to keep Christmas going for Lucy, but it just wasn't the same.” She turned to look at him. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to deal with a bunch of people shoving ‘Peace on Earth' and ‘Family Togetherness’ down your throat, when your own family is a trainwreck?! And trust me, just asking to be left alone isn't an option.” She sighed again. “You're either jolly, or you're the Grinch.”
Clark winced, remembering his own less-than-charitable assessment of Lois' Christmas spirit the other day.
“And now, I get to see a completely different holiday go down in flames,” Lois lamented.
Clark reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. “Let me help,” he offered.
She looked at him warily. “Are you a Hanukkah expert?”
“Not yet,” he said, “but give me a few days. Maybe I can't fix Christmas for you, but I promise: this will be the best Hannukah you ever had!”
Part NineBack at the Daily Planet, the newsroom was starting to empty, and Cat still hadn't found Clark's secret Santa. Finally, she spotted Eduardo Friaz still at his desk. She managed to reach him just as he rose to leave. “Eduardo! How are things going?” She beamed at him.
Eduardo Friaz looked her over, warily. “I'm married, Cat.”
“Oh, of course you are!” Cat waved a hand dismissively. “Give my love to Mrs. Friaz. But did you pick a name for the Secret Santa yet?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Yes, but I can't tell you who it is. Now, if you'll excuse me…” He hoisted his briefcase and started off towards the elevator.
Cat kept pace with him easily. “Look, I'll get to the point: are you Clark Kent's secret Santa?”
His slight hesitation was all she needed.
“You are!” she crowed. Finally, the day's labors had paid off! “Can we trade? Pretty please?”
“I already bought him his gift,” Eduardo replied, jabbing the button for the elevator.
“Well, so did I,” Cat replied. At his look, she continued, “Don't ask. Although…feel free to have your wife ask, if you want an extra happy new year!” She winked.
Eduardo began jabbing the elevator button repeatedly.
“Come on, Ed!” Cat pleaded. “I'm sure…” she looked down at the crumpled paper in her hands. “...Agnes in legal…will enjoy whatever you got just as much as Clark would. Company party gifts are always so bland and impersonal anyway…”
“Yours doesn't sound like either,” Eduardo muttered.
“Just trade!” she cajoled. “Please?”
Eduardo sighed. “Fine. Here.” He fished a crinkled slip of paper out of his pocket just as the elevator finally dinged.
Cat snatched it happily, leaving Agnes from legal in his capable hands. “And a very merry Christmas to you, Eduardo.”
He stepped onto the elevator. “Santa is going to need more coal this year,” he grumbled.
Part TenThe next day at the Planet, Clark located Frank and Todd talking with Jimmy by the water cooler. He reached them just as Jimmy slunk off, dejectedly. “Hey, guys. What's going on?”
Frank took a sip of his water. “Hi, Clark. Olsen was just asking us about the research staff. Apparently, he's got it into his head that one of the girls there is obsessed with him.”
“As if we follow the romantic goings-on of our coworkers like it's a daytime television drama!” Todd sniffed and adjusted his ascott. “Anyway, how are things going with you and Lois?”
“Pretty good,” Clark replied. He cleared his throat. “Actually, uh, I was wondering; you guys celebrate Hanukkah, right?” At their nod, he continued. “What are some of your traditions?”
Todd shrugged. “Well, my annual tradition is to take a bunch of junk food over to my Dad's place and watch the entire Murderblood series. Night one is always the Ultimate Carnivore Pizza from Jo's and the original 1979 Death at Murderblood Manor.”
“Ooh, is that the one with Rod Hardbody?” Frank asked.
“Yep,” said Todd. “Back when he was Rod Nobody.” He leaned an elbow against the cooler and looked at Frank. “How about you?”
Frank downed the last of his water and tossed the paper cup in the trash. “Eh, there's a lot of kids in our family. All their friends go on and on about trees and reindeer and all that stuff, so of course next thing you know you're trying on a blue Santa costume and practicing alternate versions of Ho Ho Ho.” He shook his head. “At least we still manage to get their focus back on the candles.”
“Candles?” Clark echoed, curious.
The two men both looked at him in surprise. “Well, of course,” said Todd. “Hasn't your partner filled you in?”
Clark gave them a very sheepish smile. “Lois hasn't really told me anything about what to expect,” he said. “You guys probably already know how tight-lipped she can be when she's working on something that's important to her.”
They nodded understandingly. Frank reached over and put a hand on Clark's shoulder. “Well, you and the rest of the Planet are in for a treat. You see…”
Part ElevenLois turned off her television in disgust and ejected “The Unicorn Princess and Friends Save Christmas” from the VCR, tossing it onto the growing pile of tapes on her coffee table. So far, out of nearly two dozen twee and insipid holiday specials, only three had contained “that one friend who celebrates Hanukkah” and only one had even a crumb of information, assuming that Hannukah did in fact involve an armadillo somehow.
The day of the party was almost here, and Lois was beginning to wonder if she should just run for the border. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Lois ran to the peephole. Clark stood on the other side, his arms full of shopping bags. She threw the locks open to let him in.
“What's all this?” she wondered.
Clark set the bags down on her kitchen counter. “Lois, I've got good news and bad news for you. The good news is that I've got everything we need for the Daily Planet's inaugural Hanukkah party.”
Lois sighed with relief. “Oh, Clark, that's great!” She frowned, worried. “What's the bad news?”
His face broke into a grin. “Well, I know you're Orthodox and all, but in order to make this work, we're going to have to break the rule against working on the day of Shabot.”
He dodged her thrown kitchen towel with a laugh.
“Very funny, Kent!” She watched in curiosity as he started pulling things out of the bag. “So, what is all this stuff?”
Clark smiled at her and lifted a squarish spinning top. “This is a dreidel. The Hebrew letters on its sides stand for the phrase ‘A Great Miracle Happened There'. And this one…” He held up another top just like it. “...is one that Superman picked up at a shop in Israel. You can see the one letter is different, because it means ‘A Great Miracle Happened Here’.”
“Superman got this?!” Lois picked up the second dreidel.
“Um, I asked him for a favor,” Clark replied.
She turned it over in her hands, then looked at Clark again. “You said he got it at a shop…do you know where he got the money?”
“I gave him a couple bucks for it,” Clark said quickly, reaching back into the bag. “And speaking of money, here's some chocolate coins!” He lifted out a baggie of chocolates in gold foil. “There’s a story behind it all. Apparently, the ancient Greeks once conquered Israel and forbade the people from practicing their own religion in their own country. The Jews would meet in secret to study their scriptures, but the cover story was that they were only gambling.” He set a stack of “coins” down on the counter, picked up the dreidel, and gave it a spin. When it landed, he looked at the squiggle on its side. “I think that one means you can take half of the coins. I have the rules written down somewhere.”
Lois nodded absently. This might not be so bad, if chocolate was involved.
“Anyway…” Clark reached into another bag. “This is the centerpiece.” He pulled out a candelabra with eight branches flanking the central candlestick. “It's called a Menorah, and it represents the lamp in their temple. The large one in the temple burned oil, and was supposed to stay lit forever before God.” He set it on the counter, beside the chocolates. “The story goes that when they finally drove the Greeks out and took back the temple, they only had enough oil to keep the menorah lit for a single day. Making more oil would take them about a week, but they still went ahead with what they had. Miraculously, it lasted for all eight days which is why…” He fished a bottle of canola oil out of another bag. “...foods fried in oil are a must!”
Lois’ good mood evaporated again. Of course there would be cooking.
Part TwelveIt was a little bit weird to be making potato pancakes with Clark for Hanukkah while Christmas songs played on the radio. The even weirder part was…Lois found herself not minding any of it. Clark seemed perfectly at ease in her kitchen, and the tasks he gave her to do were simple enough that even someone with her unique culinary skills wouldn't botch anything. She caught herself watching the way his muscles moved as he whisked batter while swaying to the Jingle Bell Rock… of course, if he ever looked her way, then she was suddenly completely engrossed in whatever concoction he had her stirring. The kitchen was beginning to smell heavenly, and Lois even started humming along to the music.
“Is this what Christmas is like for your family?” she wondered.
He grinned at her. “Making latkes?”
“No, no…I just mean…” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I don't know.” She handed him the last bowl of batter and watched him ladle some of it into the sizzling pan. “This is nice,” she admitted.
His eyes widened slightly, but then he gave her a soft smile. “Yeah. It is.”
The music changed to a jazzy rendition of “White Christmas”, just as snowflakes started to fall. Clark hummed along while flipping the latkes over. Lois couldn't decide which holiday spirit was worming its way into her heart, but for the first time in years, she felt at peace with the season. Maybe next year, she'd even get a tree.
Part 13In the lobby of the Daily Planet, Jimmy struggled not to drop any of the presents in his arms. Perhaps he should have gone the whole “Santa” route and just chucked them into a big sack. At least then, he reflected, he'd be able to see what was in front of him!
“Happy Winter Holiday, Olsen!” Ralph's voice came from somewhere nearby, and another box landed on top of the increasingly heavy pile.
“Uh, you too, Ralph,” Jimmy replied to the flash of beige in his peripheral vision.
A few seconds later, he heard Mr. Friaz give a cheery “Merry Christmas!” as a giftbag was added to his load.
Jimmy struggled to redistribute the weight without dislodging anything. “Merry Christmas!” Yes, he definitely should have gotten a large sack.
“Merry Christmas, Jimmy!” a chipper voice greeted him, and Jimmy barely saw the wave out of the corner of his eye as she passed by.
“Merry Christmas,” he replied automatically, then froze. Wasn't that Peggy from Research? Was she greeting him because she was the one who liked him?
There was a table a few feet away; Jimmy dropped all of the gifts onto it, then ran after her. “Hey, Peggy? Peggy! Wait up!”
It took a while, but he managed to catch up to her before she disappeared into the elevator. “Peggy!”
She turned and smiled sweetly at him. “Yes?”
“Uh…” Jimmy swallowed, his heart pounding even faster than it had been when he was running. “Hey, uh, I was wondering…would you maybe, I dunno, want to do something after the holidays?”
Her eyes widened slightly, but then she shook her head. “Sorry, Jimmy, I already have a boyfriend.”
“Oh.” He mentally kicked himself. “Uh, that's cool. No problem.”
“Merry Christmas, though!” She smiled again and stepped into the elevator.
Jimmy sighed. “Yeah,” he said to the closing elevator doors, “you too.”
He trudged back to his post in the lobby. Upon his arrival, he looked around at the suspiciously empty space, perplexed. He went up to Glinda the receptionist. “Hey, uh, what happened to all the stuff on that table?” he asked, pointing.
Glinda smiled at him. “Oh, everything got picked up already.”
Something cold ran down Jimmy's neck. “Picked up? What do you mean picked up”
“For the senior center,” she explained cheerfully. “That table is for the Planet's annual charity drive. Why? Is there something you still want to contribute?”
“No,” Jimmy replied, sweat suddenly beading on his forehead. “I think I already contributed enough…”
Part 14 The newsroom looked like an exploded Christmas ornament, with tinsel packed into every nook and holly in every cranny. A considerable swath, however, had been given over to blue and white streamers with six-pointed stars hung among the paper snowflakes. A couple of folding tables had already been laid out in expectation, and by the look of it, some of the staff members had brought in their own culinary contributions. Clark's eyebrows raised as he saw Rehalia's husband setting a covered dish among the small but growing cluster.
“Hey, Lois! Clark!” The man beamed at them while Rehalia slipped her hand through her spouse's now unoccupied arm. “Happy Hanukkah!”
“Um, thanks!” Lois replied, shifting one of the bags in her arms. “You too.”
“Do you need any help?” Rehalia offered in her lilting accent.
Lois seemed hesitant at first, but then she smiled. “Yeah, actually. Thanks.”
Together, the four of them managed to set up a holiday display that, at least in Clark's opinion, looked pretty decent. They were just about finished by the time Perry emerged from his office.
“Well, folks,” their editor boomed, “it's that time of year again! I just want to thank all of you for another year of making this newspaper the finest one on the face of the earth, and wish you all a Merry—” He glanced over at the small crowd gathering in the splotch of blue and white. “Happy Holidays!” he finished.
There was a round of applause.
“Now, in addition to the annual Secret Santa exchange, we also have a little something for everyone courtesy of the suits upstairs. Jimmy, if you could…”
Jimmy ran up to Perry and whispered frantically in the man's ear.
There was a long pause. “You what?”
Jimmy flinched.
Perry's face looked a little redder than usual, and he took a deep breath in through his nose. “Okay, ah…looks like we…won't…be starting with the presents today.”
Off in the corner, Cat, dressed in a shockingly short Santa dress, let out a frustrated groan.
“Instead,” Perry recovered, “why don't we hear a little more about our newest holiday tradition? Darlin?”
All eyes turned to Lois.
“What can you tell us all about Hanukkah?”
Clark could hear Lois’ heart pounding. He leaned towards her. “Don't worry,” he whispered. “It'll be fine. I'm right here if you need me.”
She swallowed, gave a sharp nod, and stepped forward. “Right. Hanukkah.” She cleared her throat. “On Hanukkah, there was a…um…”
Everyone waited.
Lois took a deep breath. “There was…a… slight mix-up. This is actually my first Hanukkah. I grew up celebrating Christmas. But, I've discovered that the two holidays have some things in common.”
She jutted out her chin and looked out over the crowd. “I think it's very important that both of these holidays are in the middle of winter, when everything is dark and cold and miserable. Because when things are terrible, and especially when they've been terrible for a while, it can be that much harder to believe that they'll ever get better again.” She took another deep breath. “Sometimes, the idea that things will get better seems as impossible as a fire burning for eight days straight on a one day supply of fuel, or a virgin having a baby. But sometimes…”
Lois turned to Clark and smiled. “Sometimes, one ray of light is enough to remind you that impossible things can still happen… That it's okay to believe in a better future, no matter what we're stuck with today.” She turned back to the crowd. “So, no matter what your faith is, if you even have one, I just want to wish you a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, and most of all: a Happy New Year.”
A smattering of applause broke out, and his partner looked over at the cluster of people near their tables. “Would, um, any of you like to say anything?”
Rehalia smiled at her husband and whispered something in rapid Spanish.
“Well, all right,” he said, and stepped forward. “About two thousand years ago…”
While Mr. Rosenbaum gave a brief summary of the holiday, Lois came back to whisper in Clark's ear. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome” he said softly, though something in her expression told him that this wasn't about the party.
“And so,” Mr. Rosenbaum concluded, “as my grandfather used to say on every holiday: They tried to kill us, we survived, now let's eat.”
The two reporters stepped aside as everyone came forward to sample the food. Frank from sports complimented their homemade jelly donuts, and Perry piled his plate high with latkes. A number of casseroles appeared from the contributions pile, as did a platter of crescent-shaped pastries. Lois tugged on Clark's sleeve. “Clark?”
“Huh?”
She pointed at a spot above him. He looked. Mistletoe.
Lois suddenly leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
Clark stared at her, thunderstruck.
“Merry Christmas, Clark.”
He smiled. “Happy Hanukkah, Lois!”
EpilogueIn the common room of the Golden Sunsets retirement home, elderly Ms. Brunswick was not feeling any sort of holiday cheer. A few paper snowmen and some scratchy carols on a tape player that wasn't long for this world did not, in her opinion, make up for nearly a century of having nothing to celebrate and nobody to celebrate with. The young whippersnappers in scrubs tried to spout some nonsense about “Christmas Spirit”, and they could stuff it.
One of the aforementioned whippersnappers rolled a cart of presents into the room, a stupid Santa hat perched on his head. “Ho, ho, ho, everyone! We've got some gifts for you all! Who's been good?”
The few seniors who heard him didn't much seem to care.
The youngster cheerfully carried on, regardless. “Okay, who wants…oh!” He stared at the small gift bag in his hands. “This is new. Some of these have names on them!” He looked out among the half-asleep retirees. “Is there an Agnes here?”
Ms. Brunswick sat up in her chair. “I'm Agnes…”
“Someone must have sent this for you, then,” he said, bringing her the item.
Agnes squinted at it suspiciously, trying to think of anyone she might know who was even alive. She reached into the bag and pulled apart the sheets of colorful tissue paper. Inside was a coffee mug, stamped with a picture of a Bassett hound and the phrase “Mondays Can Bite Me”.
She started crying.
“Ms. Brunswick?” The young man reached for the mug. “I'm so sorry! If this upsets you…”
“He looks just like Roscoe!” she said.
“Roscoe, Ma'am?”
Agnes traced the picture with her finger. “He was the best dog in the whole world,” she remembered. “He used to try to follow me to school everyday… Oh, I haven't thought about him in years! I…thank you, young man!”
The young man smiled at her. “Ms. Brunswick, would you like to have some hot cocoa with us? I can serve it in your new mug, if you like.”
“I would like that.” She squinted at the plastic square clipped to his scrubs. “David, right?”
“That's right, Ma'am.”
She smiled at him. “Merry Christmas, David.”
-The End-
Happy Holidays
-------------------------------
Prompts by JadedEvie
Want:
-Newsroom chaos with our favorite ensemble characters!
-A plan backfiring
-One perfect, magical, warm holiday moment for Lois and Clark
Don't want:
-Lois to get more than hints that Clark is Superman
-Romantic rivals (really Dan/Mayson)
-Mxyzptik
CommentsTOC2023 Fictathon Master List
