FIC: Smallville - First Christmas

[fajrdrako_fic]

Title: First Christmas
Author: fajrdrako
Fandom: Smallville
Characters: Little Kal-El, Martha Kent
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine, no claims, all property of the Warner/DC


First Christmas

What could an alien make of Christmas? Martha wondered.

She rocked Clark in the big downstairs rocker, with a fire in the fireplace and stockings hung - with care, of course - and she felt the joy and peace of Christmas. In her parents' home, Christmas had been a time of high stress - guests and visiting, with a high standard of proper behavior and clean hands. Her family was not religious, unless material success counted as a religion. There was no danger of material success here on the Kent farm, and that was just as she wanted it - she'd seen how that kind of ambition could warp and twist lives. Here in her own home, she made Christmas what she wanted it to be, a time of love and songs and the smell of ginger cookies. Most of Clark's Christmas presents were homemade, because that was all they could afford, and maybe, she had to admit, they had gone just a little bit overboard, but she and Jonathan loved the boy so much, they were overcome with excitement at the idea of giving him things on his first Christmas. It wasn't as if he already had many toys.

Did Clark feel the same joy of Christmas in the air? It was hard to tell. He was usually a joyful child, taking in new experiences with wide, smiling eyes. Not always happy - when Mr. McKay did his Donald Duck impression, it had made Clark cry, which upset poor old Mr. McKay more than anyone else - he'd just wanted to make Clark laugh. And in the end, Clark did, with all that boyish delight that spread to those around him.

Happiness: two months of it, almost three months now. How had she been so lucky?

She wondered if the people who sent him to earth had anything like Christmas to celebrate. She wondered if they too valued peace and love and smiles. They must, or how could they have created a boy so full of innocent joy as Clark? What was it, to them? A day to celebrate the return of the light of their own distant sun? A day of spiritual significance? A day of austerity?

Already Clark was learning English words, though he was not a talkative boy. His reactions always showed in his eyes.

He slept with utter peace. Jonathan came quietly with her as she took him up to his bed, tucked him in. His first Christmas. He didn't even understand about Christmas yet - he'd have a better idea tomorrow, with the stocking full of little packets of fudge and peanut brittle, when the presents were under the tree.

Santa had given Martha her best present ever. He'd given it in October.

As usually happened, Clark woke up first. Martha made sure he wore his slippers and bathrobe - it was a chilly morning - and took his hand, and they walked downstairs together to the tree. Jonathan lit the candles on the mantelpiece and went to do something delicious about pancakes. Clark stared at the mysterious, bright packages. Red ones; some wrapped in yellow and gold, with blue ribbons, others blue with gold and red trim.

"Those are for you," said Martha. "Santa Claus brought them overnight."

She couldn't tell how much he understood. A sleigh pulled by reindeer - what could that mean to him, so young? But he too had come out of the sky.

He looked thoughtfully at the packages, and then back at her.

"They're yours," said Martha. "They're presents. Merry Christmas, honey."

Clark looked up on the star at the top of the tree, which glittered. He looked down at the shapes below the branches of the tree. The hanging balls glittered in the candlelight. He let go of her hand and stepped a little closer to the packages, to look more closely. He touched a ribbon.

"It's okay," said Martha, kneeling down beside Clark and the tree. "Those are presents for you. You can touch them. You can open them. Pick the one you like best. Which do you want most? That big red package with the pictures of bells? This one?" She picked one up and shook it. "See, it rattles. Or this?" The package was fire-engine red, with a yellow bow. "Do you think it might be a - fire truck?"

Clark's mouth began to curve into a smile. He raised his hand to reach towards the packages, but then stopped, thoughtful.

"Tell me what you want most," said Martha.

The big Clark Kent smile erupted into full bloom. He threw his arms around her neck. "Mummy!" he said. "I want Mummy."

So it was Christmas, and she was crying, and Clark was laughing, and maybe she was laughing too, because it was the happiest Christmas she had ever known.

- end-


December 25, 2004