All I Want For Christmas Is You - a Magnus/Alec fanfiction

Chapter 18 - December 18th - Magnus

December 18th - Magnus

The three of us stand around the felled tree laid on our living room floor. In hindsight, it was probably a bad idea to leave it there overnight. The pine needles are littered everywhere; on the floor, through the hall where we dragged it in, and - worryingly - I even found a few on the duvet this morning. I groan, put my face in my hands and shake my head. Then I glance up and steel myself for battle. Well, battle with a tall, spindly, awful tree at least.

"Okay, right." I say. "Let's do this."

We haul the tree upright, and its tip scrapes the ceiling with a noise that makes my skin crawl. It bends to the right a little, and it looks truly horrendous, but never mind. The point wasn't really to make it look amazing. It slides suddenly to one side and Alec - with light speed reflexes - darts forward to push it back up. Or try to, at least. It takes me shoving it from the top as well to right it once again. Alec and I exchange a glance, as he wipes tree sap off on his jeans. Toby turns to us, looking more impressed by the tree than the two of us put together. He doesn't seem to care that the top of the tree is flopped to one side, pressed against the ceiling. He just looks vaguely impressed with Alec and I that we've managed to get it across New York, into the apartment, and stood up.

"Can we decorate it?" Toby asks, looking at us.

"Sure," I grin. "I'll see if I can find some decorations."

"Oh, it's...urm...interesting." Simon says hesitantly.

He, Clary, Jace and Isabelle are stood in the living room, all staring in horror at the monstrosity that is our Christmas tree, all looking like they hope to heaven that they won't be asked their opinion on it.

To be truthful, it's a fair reaction. The trees threadbare boughs are weighed down with tinsel, tree lights, baubles, and an assortment of mismatched ornaments that I've accumulated over the many, many years. The positives of being immortal are extensive, and that list of perks includes that you manage to collect a lot of trinkets. Among the chaos, I seek out pure white candles with wicks burned down from a box, an old traditional decoration. My eyes scan the assortment of clear beads, paper roses and tiny glass cherubs. Lengths of lace and beads wrap around the tree. The lights flash garishly at irregular intervals, making me feel like we need a warning on a door that there's strobe lighting. Combinations of decorations of new and old, cheap and expensive, and from all over the world adorn the tree. It looks like Christmas threw up all over it, albeit a very diverse and abundant festive throw up.

"It's very... tall." Isabelle offers.

"And thin, it's ever so thin." Clary adds.

"And... sparkly?" Jace points out.

"It's like Magnus as a tree." Simon grins, and I laugh.

"I'm frankly insulted." I say, sitting down.

"You should be." Alec says, coming and sitting beside me. "That tree is awful."

The others go home in the early evening. Toby, we discover, thinks Simon is wonderful. For hours, Simon sits beside him and talks about comic books, movies, books, video games. Toby nods along and replies animatedly, the mutual rapport quick and humorous. When Simon leaves, fist bumping Toby lightly, he grins to Alec and I.

"You've got a cool kid." He says and I laugh.

"He's not-" I begin, then shake my head. "We know. Thanks."

Our day seems to have been filled with nothingness in a wonderful way. However, I could do with some spontaneity. What I need is a party. What we do is make a Christmas cake.

"Okay; this looks...I mean, it looks like it'll be edible." Alec says uncertainly.

"It'll be fine, it'll be fine." I assure him, mixing determinedly.

Toby is sat on the counter, steadily diminishing our supply of glacé cherries and dried fruit for the cake. This causes Alec to repeatedly top the bowl back up, only for Toby to continue eating; and so the cycle continues like a perpetual motion machine.

"Stop eating the ingredients!" Alec laughs, once again filling up the bowl of dried fruit.

Toby grins. "It's not my fault! You're taking forever! I'm starving! The recipe says," he points to the cookery book opened on the countertop beside him. "'Preparation time: 30 minutes' and we've been at this for over an hour."

"Patience, Grasshopper." I say, flicking flour at him. He ducks out of the way, laughing. "Patience is bitter," I tell him, and eat a piece of candied peel as I stir the fruit in. "But it's fruit is sweet."

Then Alec reappears then with a bottle of brandy, and two shot glasses.

"One for the cake," he says, pouring some in. "And one for us." He adds, filling the glasses and passing one to me.

We clink our glasses and swallow it straight, the warm liquid numbing me from the inside out.

"Cheers." I grin, and put my empty glass down on the counter with a clink. Then I pass the bowl of cake batter to Toby. His nose is smudged with white where I flicked flour at him. I smile.

"Stir, and make a wish." I tell him, and pass him the wooden spoon. He runs a finger around the bowl thoughtfully.

"Hey, that's got alcohol in!" Alec protests, but he doesn't pursue it.

Toby closes his eyes and slowly stirs the mixture, then after a minute he opens his eyes again. He gives a small smile, but he looks a little upset. His brows are knitted and he eyes us sadly.

"What's wrong?" I ask, concerned. "What's up?"

"Wishes don't really come true." He says, dropping his eyes. "You don't believe it's true, do you?"

I bend down before him where he sits on the counter and take his hands in mine, comfortingly.

"I do, absolutely." I tell him. "Of course wishes come true."

I get the feeling that this really isn't about whether or not wishes really come true. I'm pretty sure I can guess Toby's wish, and I'm pretty sure it involves his parents. I go to glance up at Alec to find him knelt down beside me before Toby.

Alec nods up to him. "Of course, Toby. Don't you worry, it'll all be okay. I promise."

Toby nods, looking up and we stand. Toby reaches beside him and hands the bowl to Alec who smiles, stirring the batter and then passing me the spoon. I close my eyes and wish, then open them again. I run a finger around the edge of the bowl and grin at Alec.

"So, what was your wish?"

"I can't tell you, or it won't come true." He replies, teasing.

He opens the oven, sliding the cake in in its tin, whilst I pour two more brandies.

"Here," I say, passing it over.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" He says, taking a sip, and laughs.

After a couple more though, I already feel vaguely warm and happy with the alcohol.

"Toby, you should probably go to bed. It's late."

"It's only, like, ten." He protests.

"So are you!" I laugh and he grins and obediently goes.

Alec smiles, and I start a fire to combat the cold. Between the fire and the brandy it doesn't take long to warm up. Alec and I sit on the sofa, by the fire, the warmth and alcohol taking effect.

"What about you?" He asks sleepily. "What was your wish?"

"It wouldn't come true if I told you." I reply. "Isn't that right?"

He nods, smiling. "Mmm." He mumbles tiredly, and slumps against my shoulder.

He falls asleep within half an hour, half laid across me and with my arm around his waist. He curls in his sleep, his arm circling my shoulder. Within ten minutes, I drift off too; half laid, half sat on the couch with Alec's head on my chest, the smell of baking filling the room with the festive fragrance of cinnamon and orange. The last thing I hear is Alec mumbling gently in his sleep and the quiet whir of the oven.