milliways_bar | (no subject)

There's off-key humming coming from one of the booths; a humming that might sound something like "Deck the Halls" in its more tuneful moments. The sound isn't coming from the seats, but from the end of the booth, as Jack's standing next to the booth's table, the table covered in Christmasy items--snarled balls of lights, molting tinsel garlands, and layers of tissue paper with ornaments laid neatly on top.

He's sorting through the Christmas things he'd got from his apartment yesterday, looking for a couple items in particular, and there wasn't any space to do so in his apartment. At least unless you count the floor or the bed, neither of which was much of an option with a rather bouncy chihuahua running around.

"A-ha!" he says, pulling out a small, lidded box, from the very bottom of the larger box. Inside are two ornaments, nestled in cotton batting. Their paint is chipped but they're stil recogniseable as a small, blonde-haired angel and a small star.

He carefully puts the lid back on the box, then pokes through the tissue paper, looking through four generations' worth of Bauer Christmas memories.

[ooc: Must flee for bed, but feel free to tag if you want to slowtime!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I know you were, sweetheart. Still, you'd think someone would have bumped into them or dropped them or something. It's a good thing we've had luck in that case so far," he says, smiling wistfully.

Angie laughs. "Well, Mom always stressed the importance of not playing with the ornaments--just looking at them."

Kim's first instinct is to deny Angie's statement, and then she remembers that...it could very well be true.

"I hope I wasn't too strict."

It's getting a little less weird to say that, especially now that she knows she and Chase are going to be married.

Angie looks at her mother. "No, not much. But I did know enough not to play with them."

She smiles at Angie, "It's more fun to play with the other ornaments, anyway."

"Especially the noisy ones," Jack says, picking up a small brass horn. He blows through it to make a honking noise. "I remember someone waking their mother and I with this one on Christmas morning."

She remembers that sound. "You used to almost jump," she giggles. "But mom would usually let you sleep a little while longer."

Angela just laughs. She's not heard some of these things before.

"It was one of the few days I was almost guaranteed the chance to sleep in, sweetheart."

"I know, mom used to remind me of that too, but when there are presents...well, it was hard to remember sometimes."

He smiles. "Trust me, I know. I was a kid once too, believe it or not."

"I'm sure Grampa always followed the rules and was a good boy," Angela says, a little teasingly.

Jack just snickers loudly at that. Really, there's not much he can say.