It's the first Sunday in December and this year it means that we've just lit the first candle. At least if you're waiting for Christmas...
When I realized that advent was coming up, this little interlude jumped into my mind. It's not really a christmas story, but you can call it seasonal.
This is some kind of epilogue for
Sunday\'s Gain thus the title. You don't have to read it before this, though I can't deny that I'd never want to stop you from doing that.
All you need to know is, that Clark has a little girl called Becca, who is *almost* his daughter. The story is a rewrite of the Pilot. So the two of them have just encountered first season's Lois. Lois wasn't nice to Clark and concerning her daddy, the roles of Lion(ess) and kitten are reversed. Becca is **very** protective of Clark!!!
Thanks to LaraMoon, my wonderful beta-reader.
The characters of this story don't belong to me, I only borrow them to have a bit of fun.
Please enjoy!!!!
Sunday’s Late Conspiracies It’s Sunday night. Clark has just kissed Becca goodnight as soon as she pretended to be asleep. When he’s gone, she opens one eye and blinks. Her daddy is really gone. She breathes a little sigh of relief. It’s time for her plan.
Ever since Clark had left the house, earlier this Sunday, she had thought about the problem. Becca had known she would need help. But it had taken her an awfully long time to think of the right person. Neither her grandparents nor her powerful dad were the right people. Her daddy was usually good to solve any occurring problem, but this time he wouldn’t be able to do it. This realization had left Becca helpless at first. She didn’t know anyone apart from the three who would be able to help. Of course she could try and pray, but God was busy and moreover he was good so Becca thought that he might not like her idea.
Since the most powerful being was out of question as well, she had to think of someone else. It wasn’t before she and her grandparents went shopping that Becca had found the solution. She had seen him and, even though it wasn’t the real him, she knew whom to address now. The rest of the day, she had thought about how she could convince him. It wouldn’t be easy, so much was obvious. But she had to try, for her daddy’s sake!
Becca gets out of bed and is briefly shaking like a leaf. It’s cold outside her warm covers. And she is afraid. Will he say yes? Or no? She kneels down in front of her bed and joins her hands. Then she reminds herself that she isn’t praying. She is going to have a conversation. So she unfolds her hands again and rests them on the pillows. Unsure where to look, Becca decides that upwards will probably do it. Then she starts whispering. Dear Mr. Claus,
Is this right? It sounds odd. But daddy said I should call adults like that. I guess he’s right. Would you mind if I called you Santa? Well, maybe I’d better not do that, after all I have a huge plea. Can’t…can’t you make this witch disappear? I don’t like her. And I don’t think daddy does either. I mean, she says things to him… Dad would get angry with me if I behaved like that. But she’s an adult and so there’s not much he can do. It looks like maybe he likes her. Daddy acts as if she hadn’t said anything. He smiles at her and all. That’s not what he really thinks. He can’t like her. She’s really a witch!
Can you imagine? She made him get up early on Sunday. Daddy never gets up early on Sundays. I woke him up once; I hadn’t noticed it was Sunday then. He was…no he wasn’t really angry at me, but he wasn’t glad either. I mean, he didn’t even play our game. You know, daddy really likes the game.
He doesn’t like her and he can’t get rid of her himself. And I don’t think he would let me help him. Daddy is nice to everyone. Even to the witch. I bet that she has a wart. I didn’t see it yet, but she must have one. She doesn’t like children. She called me a crybaby! I mean, that’s all proof, don’t you think, Mr. Claus? Daddy said that I shouldn’t accuse anyone without proof.
You don’t need to bring me something for Christmas; this is all I want. I can do without presents for three years, if you can grant me this one. Will you? Please? I’ll be nice for the rest of the year. Really nice! I’ll clean daddy’s shoes. I’ll make breakfast every morning. I’ll even go to school without complaining. Really! Big promise! If you tell me that I’m not allowed to go ice-skating, that’s okay as well. I’ll do anything. Please help me!
Becca stops whispering. She listens to the silence of her room. Her daddy is downstairs and watches TV. The voices in a movie are the only thing she can hear. Becca keeps listening, carefully and afraid that she might miss the answer. She shivers, because her feet are getting cold as she kneels on the floor. She doesn’t dare to go back to bed again. What if she falls asleep when he sends her his answer? So Becca keeps kneeling in front of her bed, trying hard to stay awake. Minutes pass and nothing happens. Her eyelids are growing heavy.
Before he goes to bed, Clark checks on Becca. She is lying on the edge of her bed, her feet and legs outside, her upper body half way in. As he gently lifts her inside her bed again, she’s mumbling. Clark listens. “Please say yes.” He hears her drowsy voice say.
“Always,” he replies in a soft whisper and blows a kiss on her forehead. 
