Mr Rickman [Sequel to Mr Americano] - An ALAN RICKMAN fanfic

Chapter 21 - Family Tightrope

Hi! It's been a while since my new chapter because of circumstances mentioned in my previous one, but here I am with a new chapter for you to enjoy, and I hope you do! I actually had this one ready to go before anything happened in my personal life, but wanted to polish it up before posting. I hope you enjoy it! 

Where were we last? Rebecca and Alan were going to tell Ellie the news of her change in life style since Judy's no longer on the scene. This of course comes after the revelations of Ellie's father being non-existent in her life. 

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Christmas morning

The morning winter sun sends a beam of light across the bedroom teasing my eyes open at 8:30am. Beautiful and fresh is the snow outside our window blanketing the windowsill in the stillness of Christmas Day. Along our Kensington street, perhaps the chaos and joyousness has begun, but here, all is silent. "...Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse," as the old poem goes, not even Alan. His absence is felt before I come face to face with his pillow, but his scent remains lingering on Egyptian cotton. He appears a moment later with peppery ruffled morning hair, a white t-shirt and black bottoms looking effortlessly handsome, with two steaming cups of coffee. He's thoughtfully been downstairs to turn on the Christmas lights, and whilst we await Ellie's eagerness to open her presents, we sit in bed and enjoy the first sip of caffeinated goodness. Today is the day - the day we tell Ellie the news of her new home.

The pad of her little footsteps tots down the hall a moment or two later and straight into our bedroom after Alan answers the door.

"Someone slept well," he smiles, convinced by the mass of unruly morning curls atop her head. "Good morning my darling."

Ellie smiles up at him and he helps her to the bed with a boost. Our eyes fixate excitably.

Guess what today is Ellie?"

She bounces on her knees in her pink and white pyjamas, "Christmas!"

In a charismatic fashion, Alan joins in, bending down to her level. He speaks in a way that hangs onto every word, that causes Ellie to hold her breath.

"You know, for a big jolly red man, he isn't always easy to listen out for...But...I do believe I heard him last night."

Ellie gasps with her hands to her mouth, looks at me and back at Alan. She is too precious for words.

"You heard him? You heard Santa? Did you see him? Nobody is aloud to see the real Santa. He's magiiiic."

Alan's brows raise at the importance of her words. "Indeed he is, but I may have just heard the tinkling of bells on the roof," he points toward the ceiling. "I stayed very still, just to check he was stopping by and I would you believe it, he came straight...down...the chimney."

"Wowwww!"

Ellie is enthralled. At twenty-nine years of age, long since the excitement of Santa, Alan embodies magic in such a way that makes me a believer all over again, bubbling inside like a four year old little girl.

He takes a gift he had hidden away and presents it to Ellie from behind his back in a in a theatrical manner. She instantly recognises the gold wrap – it's the gift she received from Santa at Hamley's Toy Shop that she had refused to open until Christmas Day. Even now she seeks approval.

"Go ahead sweetheart."

Ellie tugs at the ribbon and tears off the paper. Her excitement is palpable as she reveals her gift and holds it up high with a beaming smile.