Summary: Your boss, Carr, hates Christmas. You’re determined to fix that.
Warnings/Notes: Lots of swearing, Carr being Carr. First Christmas fic!!
Word Count: 2398
The streets had been decorated during the night; garland adoring street lights, wreaths on either side with twinkling warm lights. Businesses had begun to put up lights on their own or other silly decorations to continue the Christmas cheer.
But this one remained empty.
You rushed through the glass doors, box tucked under your arm. The lobby had sparsely decorated for Christmas and a few workers were setting up a tree now. They cast you a sympathetic look as you popped into the elevator. This would probably be the last time they saw you, unless all went well.
Soon your desk came into view. The large doors beside them were shut, she was already here. You tucked the box under your desk, straightened your hair, and then went to grab the coffee.
Her office was right beside your desk behind the ominous closed doors. She hated when the janitors left them open at night to air out. No matter who she fired, it didn’t stop.
You nudged open the right one, coffee in one hand, files in the other.
The office was dark wood; modern but not minimalist. It was beautiful, and would be even more so with Christmas decorations but there wasn’t even an ornament in sight. That had been her one rule; no decorations. And as her assistant, every other living being in the office hoped you could change her mind. They were counting on it actually. Today.
“Bad morning?” You approached her desk and set the coffee down. She didn’t look up for a moment, studying something on her computer. Then she sighed.
“If good mornings exist, they’re rarer than lovable people in this city.” Carrington replied flatly. She took a sip of her bitter coffee. “Have you seen that thing they installed outside? I thought I’d have to mop up my melted eyeballs.”
“You mean the tree?”
“Yes.” Carr muttered. “What a waste of nature. Let’s chop down a tree, decorate its carcass and hold it hostage until it dies and turns naked. Seems like some sort of sex game.”
Muffling a chuckle, you peered out the window at the tree. “I’m pretty sure it’s an artificial tree.”
“Even better. Let’s clog our landfills with this plastic slop.” She rubbed her forehead. “It’s all bullshit. Holidays are a waste of time. Everybody shoves on a smile and trots around shouting about how happy they are and how you should be too.”
“Alright, Scrooge.” You teased playfully. You were probably the only one allowed to do that. She’d snap the head off of anyone else who dared to poke fun at her. “What does Amabel think of the holidays?”
Carr went quiet. “She keeps asking if Uncle Sebastian is gonna come and then we can get a Christmas tree. It’s been 3 years since we did that, you know. I celebrate what I can for her but she’s 12 now. Don’t you think she’s a little old for that stuff?”
“Not at all.”
“Shouldn’t have asked you, I bet you wear a Santa hat when I’m not looking.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are those Christmas lights on your necklace?”
“Yes…?”
“You’re killing me.”
“You’re making me sad.”
“Boohoo,” Carr closed her laptop. “Cry all you want, Christmas cunt, it’s not happening here.”
You sat on the edge of her desk. “What about in the lobby?”
Her expression darkened. “…what about the lobby?”
“They’ve been wanting to… decorate.” You replied hesitantly. “Just garlands and lights. Every other place is doing it and they felt left out.
Carrington stared blankly at you. “That sounds like a major waste of time.”
“It’s not like there's a lot going on down there. We’ve had clients comment on our lack of… holiday spirit.” Did that really happen? No. But it definitely could.
Her lips tightened into a frown. “You’re shitting me.”
“Not at all.”
The staring contest held until your eyes were watering and you couldn’t help but blink. It didn’t end for Carr, though, who continued to bore a hole through your soul with her cold chocolate eyes. Then she finally sighed and lowered her forehead into her palm.
“Fine,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “But that shit better not reach this floor, got it? I’ll strangle you with your lights if it does.”
“Got it.” You slunk back to your desk and tucked the decoration box under your coat.
The lobby was relieved, though. There was a little wrapped pastry with your name on it when you left, as there usually was when you stood up to big boss Carr.
The next few days remained without activity. A few other floors found the courage to decorate, though you didn’t dare, yet. You tried slipping candy canes into Carr’s bag and later poked yourself on something very sharp in your desk so you dropped that idea.
You were about to try and trick her into agreeing to let you run out and grab some hot chocolate packets when she dropped a paper on your desk.
“Amabel is trying to kill me.” She said flatly. “This is her Christmas list.”
You scanned the list full of average preteen wants and wishes; clothes, room decorations, some sort of best friend necklace for her and her nanny… and at the bottom of the list: A big (real) Christmas tree with twinkling lights.
Before you could even speak, Carr cut you off.
“This is bullshit. We haven’t had a real tree in years! I thought she was over that? Why now? I mean… do you know how hard it’ll be to get a real tree?”
“It isn’t that hard, is it?”
She glared at you. “If it isn’t so hard how about you go do it, Y/n.” She barked. “Because I sure as hell am not trekking out to the middle of nowhere to cut a tree down.”
“They have lots so you can pick a precut one.”
Carr was quiet for a moment. Then she flicked your shoulder. “Fine, elf, go find me one. Send pictures, front and back. If it has dead needles I’ll–”
“--fire me, I know.” You were up quickly, grabbing your coat. “Give me an hour.”
You drove to the nearest Christmas tree lot. There were slim pickings since it was after the weekend and everybody had already taken the good stuff. But eventually you managed to find two possible trees and sent pictures to Carr.
“They look like shit.”
“That's all they have left.”
After a few moments of silence where you genuinely feared for your job, a reply came through. “I’m going to come get you. We’re going to a tree farm.”
You knew better to respond.
Soon you were in the passenger seat of Carrington’s car, speeding as she drove to a tree farm a little ways out of the city. She was silent, practically seething. You had no idea what caused her direct aversion to Christmas. You were also too scared to ask.
But from what you gathered, she had always been that way. The people in the lobby practically cried when they realized you might be able to sway her, just a little. You were her longest running assistant and one of the few people she tolerated. If you could convince her to allow some decorations maybe you could pry the rest out of her.
“There’s a chainsaw in the back,” she said flatly as she began driving through the farm full of trees. “I’m not getting muddy.”
“I’ll do it.” You looked out the window. “Pull over here, these look good.”
They were in fact, not good. Not good enough for her. None of them were. You and Carr must’ve walked through half of the farm before you finally stopped.
“If you’re really that against a tree, we can just go back to the office and tell Amabel they didn’t have any.” You dug your boots into the mud. “But we’ve walked past a good 20 trees and I’m tired.”
“Stop whining. If you’re tired then leave.”
“I’m tired of you.”
“What?” She stiffened.
“You’re doing that ‘I hate everything and I’m going to push everyone away’ thing again.”
Carr’s face darkened. “No I’m not.”
For a minute you considered turning the chainsaw on. You just gestured it dramatically at her. “You are. I don’t know what vendetta you have against Christmas. I thought it was sad and maybe I could help you get over that but congratulations, you’ve done what you wanted. I’m sick and tired of trying to help you with something you clearly do not want help with.”
“I didn’t ask for your help in the first place.”
“You’re right. You didn’t.” You set the chainsaw down and threw your hands against your sides. “It doesn’t matter. I give up. I’ll walk back to the car and wait for you. I’ll go to the barn and call a taxi. I don’t care, but I’m not doing this anymore.”
As you turned to leave, she suddenly spoke.
“Christmas was when everything went wrong.” Carrington said. You turned to face her. Her arms were crossed, shoulders hunched and head turned away. “I mean… shit was already going wrong. But it just got worse.”
Working the story out of her was easier than you thought. You stood still and listened.
“Sebastian was still around. The three of us came out here and he cut down a tree. We’d been doing that for years. He used to put on a Santa costume and surprise Amabel back when she still believed in that shit.” Her voice grew softer and she pressed her thumb into her nose.
“The one Christmas… he tried to bring his husband over. This is the man that was actively selling coke, by the way. He was fine but I didn’t like him. We all maybe had a little too much to drink and some ornaments were broken.” Carr hesitated. “I wasn’t thinking and I threw things. I threw one that Ami made, that thing shattered like you’d never believe. She was asleep, thank god. I kicked the boys out and just cried.”
The tension had slowly run out of her body and she was just staring at the ground now. You took a few steps closer.
“I mean more shit went down after that with Seb and everyone… But it started then, I won’t bore you with the rest.” She bit her lip. “Christmas wasn’t the same without him around, though. There’s only so much a single mom who works as a lawyer can do to keep up that Christmas magic for her kid. Philomena runs most of it now but it isn’t how it used to be.”
“What happened with the ornament?”
Her breath hitched. “…I told Ami it must’ve gotten lost in the attic. I still have the pieces somewhere, fuck. Stupid, right?”
“No, not at all.” You reached out and squeezed her arm. “I’m sorry… I knew it was sensitive but—“
“No, the way I’m acting is stupid. I just, I don’t know, I’ve really shut down the past few years. I feel like the fucking grinch.”
That made you laugh, which in turn made her smile weakly.
“I think we should go back to the office,” you murmured. “And on the weekend, the three of us come here and pick out a tree.”
Carr’s eyes widened and she brushed your hand off her arm. “Seriously? Fuck you, I get all sensitive and emotional and you start joking…”
“I’m not.” You stepped in front of her, close. “I’m serious. I’ll cut down the tree, I don’t mind. But you and Ami deserve to have a nice Christmas, and I want to help.”
“…you really are a walking, talking elf..” Carr muttered, disgust badly shielding how touched she was. She inhaled sharply, rolled her shoulders, and then looked at you. “Fine. Saturday, though. Her winter concert is on Sunday. Amabel said you’re invited, if you’d like to continue crossing the professional relationship line.”
“I’d love to go.”
Carr hesitated as if waiting for you to take it back. But when you didn’t she just started walking back to the car.
The ride to the office was quiet. When she parked, she didn’t immediately get out.
“I saw your box.” She said, fingers hovering on the lock to the doors.
“My box?”
“Under the desk. The one labeled Christmas.”
“Oh, that… it’s—“ you trailed off. “…it’s what you think it is.”
Carr scoffed. “Thanks for confirming what a box of Christmas decorations is.” She replied flatly. “Next you’re gonna pull me aside and tell me in a soft voice that Santa isn’t real.”
“I’ll take them home.” You tried to open the door. She locked it.
“No, you won’t.” She said firmly. “You’ll put them up when we go inside.”
“I will?”
“Yes. You’re the shittiest elf ever, Jesus. No wonder why the North Pole didn’t want you.”
You grinned. “They thought I could warm Scrooge’s heart.”
“Scrooge has no problem locking you in the car and going inside.”
You shut up at that. But that big dopey grin was still on your face. Carr had to hide one of your own.
The second you reached your desk you started to decorate. You hung garland and lights the walls, then hung ornaments and candy canes from them. Afterwards you pulled out a little tree and set it on the edge of your desk.
You didn’t realize Carr was watching you until she cleared her throat. She was staring at your tree with distaste. Had you gone too far?
“That’s pathetic.” She tilted her nose up. “Do us all a favor and order a bigger one on the company account.”
“Will do.” You breathed a sigh of relief. When she turned to leave, you spoke up. “Wait.” You held an ornament out to her.
Carr narrowed her eyes and observed the shiny bulb in your hand. It was tiny, for the tiny tree. It was offensive and disgusting and appalling and she hung it silently, eyes disobeying her cold demeanor. She looked like a kid finally being allowed to hang the fancy ornaments.
She didn’t say a word, but her stare said enough. You handed her another bulb, and then grabbed one for yourself.
And when the mistletoe was pulled out of the box? Well, you fought over it, and then hung it above the door to Carr’s office.
Fic bind of @lovelyelbowleech 's novel War Crimes.
The cover itself is black fabric painted with red blood spatteres and gold borders and titles.
The pages themselves are painted gold with more spatterings of red.
This is honestly one of my favorite fic binds i've completed so far, i genuinlye feel awed everytime i look at it and remember that I made that.
The process was admittedly difficult. I lost access to the program i would usually use to format the text itself and had go through and add back in all the italics and bold by hand. Once the textblock itself was done it sat on my shelf for weeks as i agonized over the covers design. I wanted something that would truley encapsulate the gravity and magnificence of this fic. One night i was up late and decided to screw it and go at it with unfiltered artistic freedom. I could not be happier with the results.
I finished this bind a long time ago. Unfortunately i got very busy in my personal life and couldnt find time to properly show it off. Then i felt too self consious of my camera, as silly as that seems now, so i put it off. Im very excited to share it now though. There really is no substitute for having it in your hands and being able to flip through the pages, but i hope you all enjoy looking at the product of so much work.
Also go read War Crimes, and maybe also War Games. They are such incredibly good reads.
