Love Is All About We

A/N: My weird-ass stomach bug threatened to sideline me, but the Carrison love kept me going! Here is the first long-ish drabble in my mini writing spree inspired by Carrie Fisher's latest book, The Princess Diarist.

The prompt for this one was "It's a Carrison Thanksgiving."

It's set in my plausible verse, where Carrie and Harrison slowly fall in love after his divorce from Melissa. This takes place in November 2002, their first Thanksgiving together (yes, that means it takes them a whole year to start dating—slow and steady wins the race!). Malcolm is 15, Georgia is 12, and Billie is 10.

The title for this comes from the Neil Diamond song "We," off his album "12 Songs."

Special thanks to hewouldve for her excellent beta work.

As always, I own nothing and I don't mean to offend anyone with this RPF.

Without further ado, on with the show!

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"Sweetheart, are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?"

Carrie glanced over at her—boyfriend? partner? She really had no idea how to classify their relationship, at least not now. Harrison leaned against the doorframe, eyeing her with his trademark cocked eyebrow and half smirk.

She shook her head. "I think I have everything under control here."

Harrison eyed the kitchen—pots full of vegetables rested on every burner on the stove, both sides of the double oven held a twenty-five pound turkey and roasted potatoes, and every inch of countertop was littered with dirty bowls and utensils. Carrie could tell he wasn't too pleased about the mess around the kitchen, but to his credit, he didn't say anything.

"You know," he rumbled. "Malcolm's been asking if he could help out."

Carrie nodded. "I know."

"It's hard to get any teenager to help in the kitchen, let alone a teenage boy," he continued.

She approached him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "That's true."

"Billie and Georgia want to help with dishes, too," Harrison added, pulling her to his broad chest.

"Mm hmm," she hummed.

He sighed. "Carrie, it's not a crime to have the kids help with Thanksgiving dinner—especially if they're begging for something to do."

"I know, I know," she murmured. "But I just ... want this to be perfect. It's our first Thanksgiving together, with the kids. I want to take care of you, let you relax."

He ran his hands up and down her back. "Honey, what if the kids and I just want to spend time with you?"

Carrie relaxed against his chest, letting his words settle over her for a moment. "I don't know how to do this," she confided quietly.

"What do you mean?" he replied, his voice soft.

"You know I never had a normal life," she began. "Thanksgiving was catered—this big fancy thing. My twenties were a mess, Paul never celebrated it, Billie and I just went to visit Bryan's family. Since then, we've just gone to Mother's soiree," she scoffed. "I just want to have a normal Thanksgiving with you and the kids, but I don't know how to do that."

Harrison kissed her temple. "Normal Thanksgivings aren't perfect."

Carrie murmured slightly, but didn't say anything.

"For me, growing up, all I remember is being with my family," he continued. "Spending time with my parents and brother, listening to my uncles make bad jokes, eating all the food ..."

She gave him a small smile.

"Sweetheart, it's already a perfect Thanksgiving because we're spending it together—you, me, the kids, your mother ..." he gently teased her.

Carrie giggled now, thinking of her mother joining them for dinner.

"No one expects you to do this all by yourself," he murmured. "We want to help you, spend time with you." Harrison squeezed her lightly. "It's our first Thanksgivingtogether."

She lifted her head and stood on her toes, kissing him softly. Before she could respond, their three youngest kids barrelled into the kitchen from their mini soccer game in the backyard.

"How's dinner, Mom?" Billie asked, dirt all over her face.

Carrie turned to her, clearing her throat. "Really well, baby," she cooed. "Do you and Georgia want to help me with the veggies?"

"Yeah!" Georgia exclaimed, taking Billie's hand and leading her to the stove.

Carrie winked at Harrison and followed her daughters. "Now the key to a good cooked vegetable is a lot of salt," she said, taking the salt shaker and adding some to the pots as Billie and Georgia looked on eagerly. Carrie handed them two stirring spoons. "Can you mix those for me?"

The two of them leaned over and stirred the veggies, making sure they didn't mess it up.

Harrison turned to Malcolm. "You want to tackle those dishes with me?" he asked.

He nodded. "Sure, Dad," he replied, heading for the sink.

"You wash, I dry?"

"Sounds good," Malcolm said, taking the sponge and scrubbing at a mixing bowl.

Carrie glanced at Harrison and Malcolm chatting, then at Georgia and Billie intently stirring their pots. She smiled to herself. She had no idea if this would be a new tradition for them, or if their blended family would even last. But moments like these made her want to work harder than she'd ever had to make this new normal work.