Merry Christmas, Bru!! Ily sosososoosoooo much. It's not the drabble I'd originally written but it's something because you deserve it! Kinda silly and sucky because eeuew I think we've established I can't do fluff worth my life but I tried. Anyways, thank you for the feels and the friend you've become! Merry Christmas<3<3
Love Always, Your Klausybooe
He has to do a double take when he first sees it. Firstly because he's half asleep due to a cranky infant uncharacteristically waking him at an ungodly hour he'd rather not divulge (or even acknowledge) and the light of the refrigerator blinding him whilst trying to find the bottle to warm and stick in his daughter's mouth before she wakes the neighborhood.
(Yes, yes, even the Original hybrid falls prey to the horror of bright lights upon waking.)
And, secondly, it's odd. Immensely so. Never in his life has he seen such a thing, this collage of pictures they'd recently taken at Rebekah's insistence with the words 'Merry Christmas' and their names printed on it. And hanging from the refrigerator of all things. Klaus has seen plenty of things in his life but he decides nothing is weirder than this.
Deciding Rebekah is the culprit since the family photo shoot had been her idea in the first place, he scoffs, rolls his eyes, slams the door shut a bit more forcefully than need be before turning on his heel and heading back to Andrea's room before Hayley can start yelling for him.
***
A few days later the picture is still there and Hayley catches him studying it with a creased brow as she attempts to feed Andie some miserable-looking mush she insists is a rice cereal.
"Never seen a picture of your ugly mug before?" she asks.
Klaus rolls his eyes. "I was around when photography was invented. Needless to say I've seen more than my fair share of myself in photographs."
"It's called a Christmas card," she explains after a few moments, no doubt having looked back over to see the hybrid's still staring at the picture.
"A Christmas card?"
"Mhmm," she says cheerfully, smiling at Andrea in an attempt to get the stubborn child to open her mouth so she can stick a spoonful of cereal in it. "Lots of families do them this time of year. The Marshall's did one every year. Sent it out to friends, family, business partners. I don't know."
"Bit of an odd practice," he comments, finally walking away from the appliance with a glass of water in hand and joins Hayley at the table. He takes a sip and leans back in his chair, contemplating it. "And I suppose this was sent out? To whom?"
The she-wolf shrugs and, having decided Andie's done, places the bowl of food down and leans back in her chair. "Couldn't tell ya. I know she made a few versions-- one of her and wolf-boy, one of the whole fam-damily. She knows we don't want Andie advertised everywhere and she knows better than to risk your ire so I doubt it."
Klaus smirks but doesn't say anything else. At least until Hayley snatches his glass and downs half of it. "You'll be refilling that," he tells her with a poached brow as she wipes the excess on her sleeve.
"You have legs. Refill it yourself."
"Something you clearly didn't think through when commandeering my drink for yourself when you just as easily could have gotten your own." He smirks. "You have legs."
Hayley rolls her eyes and turns her attention to their daughter where she's sitting, happily babbling away in her high chair. "Your daddy's full of it, baby girl."
The hybrid feigns a hurt look and leans forward, stealing Andrea's attention from Hayley when he picks the spoon up and offers her the utensil after shaking cereal off it, earning a bright smile in return. "Don't listen to her, little love. She's just as full of it, if not more, as I am."
He earns an elbow in the side in response.
***
In the end, Klaus decides he likes the Christmas card as weird and foreign as the idea behind it is.
So much so that one night after he's watched Hayley put Andie to bed, listening to her sing 'O Little Town of Bethlehem' ever so softly rather than the the she-wolf's lullaby of choice, Klaus pushes himself off the door frame, walks down the stairs and plucks the photograph from the refrigerator door only to tuck it into the drawer of his bedside table.
He doesn't say anything about it though questions are asked.
Better for them to believe he's still the Christmas Grinch everyone expects him to be.
