#anyone who hasn't fallen in love with this precious bean??

[highlynerdy]

Recently rescued, slightly traumatized, touch starved baby spy, who isn't quite sure how to interact with fellow humans, experiences a meet cute casual affection from lovable gremlins, feels many feels

[shares-a-vest]

Fruity Four Advent Calendar, Day 19: A Miracle

Prompt List

It will be a goddamn Christmas miracle if Steve and Eddie can get a full night's sleep with their daughter, Joanie, practically bouncing off the walls with excitement on Christmas Eve... Between calls from Robin, a late-night pop-in from Nancy with Christmas supplies, their menagerie of cats and Eddie trying to assemble Joanie's dollhouse, it's shaping up to be a long night of sleeplessness.

Word Count: 3200

Guys I've totally fallen off doing these prompts. Had crippling anxiety all last week bc I was going for Christmas lunch with my dad and I've been super down since. Shouts to anyone who has to deal with shitty parents this Christmas. Love you, you've got this 💖💖💖

'Operation Dollhouse'

Joanie tugs at the phone cord once again and, to save it from completely ripping out of the wall, Steve jumps up from the couch to follow the excited toddler around the living room. He really didn't want to have to move the couch on Christmas Eve to reach the socket. Joanie gestures wildly with her free hand, bobbing her head along with faint hums as she listens to Robin, presumably talking a mile a minute.

Robin's call was her fourth phone call of the day and the third interruption in Steve's attempt to get his three-year-old daughter into bed. She’s been practically bouncing off the walls since November when the first signs of Christmas started to appear (far too early displays at the grocery store and Christmas music on the radio the day after Thanksgiving) and now the energy is in overdrive.

"And Pa's coming in the morning!" she excitedly announces like Robin hasn't spent ten years' worth of celebrations in the same general vicinity as Wayne Munson. "And he promised to take me out in the snow."

She makes an attempt to climb up on her little pouffe by the window but Steve stops her, scooping her up with one arm.

"Nope, we are not climbing up to the window."

Joanie laughs, letting her hand holding the phone fall, slumping under Steve’s arm as he marches her back to the couch (and closer to the phone socket).

"Daddy just picked me up," she yells into the phone through giggles.

He plops her down on the couch and resumes his seat with a heavy sigh as Joanie straightens up, holding the phone to her ear once more.

"Alright, enough," Steve says, flailing to sound stern enough as he desperately tries to wind the conversation down. He sticks a hand out for the phone as Joanie stares him down with just as much seriousness.

"Bye, bye, Robbie. See you at Christmas," she says cheerily and hands over the phone at a glacial pace.

Disappointment fills her big, dark-brown eyes with the theatrics that only Eddie Munson's daughter could possibly possess. She cuddles into Steve's side, probably sulking, as he attempts to untangle the coiled phone cord.

"Ugh, Rob?" he starts, giving up and deciding to just talk with a limited cord length. "I gotta get her to bed."

"But my precious bean and I are having our girl talk!"

Joanie practically rolls off the couch and runs across the living room to the Christmas tree, stopping dead in front of it to look it over, glee twinkling in her eyes.

"You'll have all day tomorrow for that. I've been trying to get her to bed for two hours," Steve mumbles, still trying to convey his annoyance as covertly as possible.

"Where's Munson?"

He can't help but snort a laugh at the thought of Eddie in the garage, still, trying to assemble the dollhouse Joanie was getting from Santa.

"Still hard at work on the D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E?" Robin answers for him teasingly, rapid-fire spelling and cackling.

"Yes," he says, side-eyeing Joanie as she carefully examines the presents under the tree.

"Oh, I'll be teasing him tomorrow. Alrighty, Steve, love you. And don't you get up too early to start in the kitchen! Just chill the fuck out."

"Love you," he smiles and hangs up the phone, mustering any parental authority he has left from Christmas-time exhaustion.

"Joanie," he begins, cradling the phone in his lap. "It's bedtime. Go brush your teeth."

Surprisingly, she nods and heads for the bathroom. Despite the lack of protest, Steve doesn’t expect much. The same had happened before Robin called, panicking once more about exactly what she was bringing over for Christmas lunch. He busies himself with rearranging the couch cushions, always in a state of disarray after Joanie has been squirming around while talking on the phone.

He's about to head into the bathroom to check on the tooth brushing progress when Nancy comes fumbling in the front door, bags in hand and balancing a pie under her arm as she tries to unjangle the spare key from the front door lock.

"Help!" she says as she makes fleeting eye contact she with Steve.

He rushes to her, taking a bag and the pie, allowing her to yank the key from the sticking doorknob.

"Have you been at work?" he asks, incredulous as they enter the kitchen.

"The news never stops," she retorts with a tight-lipped smile as she sets her bags down on the cramped kitchen island and places her hands over them to explain. "Okay, I have my mother's pie recipe, the P-R-E-S-E-N-T-S. Well, some of them at least. Robbie is still wrapping hers. And wine."

She beams at that last part and Steve knows that his house is another stopover on Nancy and Robin’s busy, alcohol-fueled, seemingly never-ending December festivities as they party-hop all month long.

"I’m pre-preparing for Robin having a meltdown tomorrow, so I thought I’d just drop in my side of things to make it easier on myself," she continues, slipping the bag filled with presents down between the kitchen barstools, concealing them from curious not-so-little toddler eyes. "I’d really like us to have at least some relaxation in the morning over breakfast before the panic sets in."

Steve laughs, "She just called."

"Nancy!" Joanie gasps, standing at the line between the kitchen linoleum and the wood flooring.

"Are you still up?" Nancy teases, propping a hand on her hip and chancing a sly smirk at Steve.

"And we were just going to bed," he smiles sarcastically, making for the young girl. But she folds her arms in protest, the separation in flooring becoming, as it so often did, a battleground.

"Where is Daddy?"

"In the garage, honey."

She narrows her eyes, too much like Eddie for her own good. His absence had drawn suspicion all day, and there were only so many excuses Steve could concoct.

"He needs to read me a story," she insists.

"You already got a story. But I'll go get him to tuck you in."

She purses her lips, probably weighing up the bargain, eventually offering, "Can Nancy tuck me in?"

Before he can answer, Nancy picks her up.

"I can absolutely do that."

Steve mouths a, “thank you” as she passes him to move down the short hallway to Joanie's bedroom. He clamours for the radio on the kitchen counter, thinking, this is it. Joanie is finally going to sleep.

Dustin would probably give Steve and Eddie a lecture if he knew they used the emergency radios basically as a paging system between the apartment and their designated garage across the alleyway. Typically it was Eddie's studio but right now most of his music equipment was shoved to the side, making way for the dollhouse. The dollhouse that had taken him all week to assemble. And they still had to bring it upstairs and place the furniture in it.

"How's it going, Edward the Elf? Over."

"Fudge-off, Steve!"

"Eds, Nancy is helping Joanie into bed. And need I remind you, you have to say, ‘over’. Over."

"This is fucking bullshit, over."

"Can you come up and tuck Joanie in, she absolutely will not accept less than both of us."

"Fine. But, dude. I need your help."

Steve can feel his begging puppy eyes through the radio.

Nancy gets Joanie into bed without issue which, to Steve, is some combination of frustrating (considering he wrangles children for a living at preschool), a bruising to his super-parent ego and, ultimately, being thankful. Although, her persuasiveness is a continuing mark of her unwavering authority and Steve can’t argue with that. It has literally saved their lives time and again, after all. Eddie makes a flying appearance, hair frizzed in a messy bun and clearly half-stoned. He grumbles something about the garage being, "Santa’s fucking workshop" on his way out which leaves Nancy in hysterics.

Despite his clear grouchiness, Steve and Nancy can’t help but take a trip down to the apartment building’s garages to taunt him a little before Nancy heads off across the city.

"Why are you smoking?" he asks, immediately plucking the joint from between Eddie's lips and taking it for himself.

"Because I want to rip this stupid thing to pieces with my bare hands!" he says, voice deepening into his Dungeon Master voice as he shakes his fists.

Steve had bought the bare-bones dollhouse two months ago, deciding on a wooden one that they could customise to Joanie’s liking. Besides, they didn’t think whichever Dreamhouse Barbie had on offer this year would have unicorn-themed wallpaper in the bathroom or a bedroom for the plastic spiders Eddie had purchased as stand-ins for Joanie’s spider plushie collection. Steve still has no clue where Eddie and Robin had managed to find them. Like everything he did, Eddie went all out on decorating, subtly quizzing their daughter on interior design choices and then fashioning the house to her preferences.

Eddie turns around and grins.

"But I'm done now," he adds, turning back to the dollhouse with a miniature rocking chair and delicately placing it in the Christmas-themed living room.

"Eds," Steve chuckles. "How are we going to take this upstairs with the furniture already in it?"

Eddie's jaw drops and he hangs his head in his hands, groaning so loudly that Steve is happy their neighbours are just used to the Eddie-generated noise by now. Nancy bursts out laughing.

When she calms down enough to form words, she leans forward and gives Eddie a condescending pat on the shoulder.

"See you in the morning, Santa’s Little Helper."

She hops out of the garage, giggling and disappears into the night before Eddie can give an expletive-laden response.

He jumps up, boots stomping on the concrete floor.

"Shit," he says, rubbing his butt and grumbling. "Better help me, He-Man. This freaking dollhouse has stolen my youth! I need the help of your big, strong arms."

He makes grabby hands for Steve who quickly stubs out the joint in an overfilled ashtray. He kisses Eddie on the forehead.

"Operation Dollhouse enters its final stage."

"Praise Jesus!" Eddie mocks, adding a whining, "I wanna go to bed."

They make quick work of removing the furniture Eddie had already placed in the dollhouse, Eddie walking ahead as the chief door-opener and toddler scout, while Steve hoists the thing (surprisingly heavy) upstairs, hoping this was close to the last thing he would have to do this Christmas that will inevitably give him back problems in a week. He sets it down right in the middle of the living room and places a dining chair in the hallway so he can keep watch if Joanie walks out of her room. Meanwhile, Eddie fulfils his one last elvish task, perched on a cushion in the living room as he works on the furniture.

Steve's heart skips a beat as a shadow moves near Joanie's ajar bedroom door, but it's only his cat, Meatloaf. He watches as the little brown cat, with a slight wobble in his step, moves down the hallway and into their bedroom, a sign that Joanie is, in fact, asleep. Despite being a shy cat (and being the unfortunate target of some household cat bullying) Meatloaf was protective of Joanie, just quietly observing her and hurrying away to hide when he decided she was okay.

Eddie takes his time with the furniture, presumably relieved he’s on the home stretch. Once he’s done, they drape a crochet blanket over it for good measure, still uneasy at the possibility of Joanie snooping around if she awakens. They do a speed-run of their typical night routine, Eddie grumpily protesting Steve's last-minute lingering in the kitchen even though there really wasn't any more he could do in preparation for Christmas Day.

It feels like mere minutes have passed when Steve awakens to the feeling of someone slapping his shoulder. He blinks awake, realising it’s still dark out. All he can hear is a murmuring sound. He looks over to see the shape of Eddie, the likely source of muffled noise, turned away from him and waving his hand in the air. He reaches over to his nightstand for his hearing aid and jolts with a gasp at the sight of Joanie standing at his bedside, bright-eyed like it wasn’t the middle of the night. He can see her head moving about, likely talking. He fumbles for his hearing aid and places it in his left ear.

"You couldn’t hear me!" she complains with the innocent impatience of a toddler.

"M’sorry, Joanie, you have to wait for me to put my ears in," he says, sitting up and yawning. 

"Is Pa here yet?" she asks, clasping her hands together expectantly.

He can now hear Eddie groaning and grumbling, "Go to sleep, Joanie."

Steve looks at the clock radio on his nightstand. 2:17 am. He rolls his eyes, just knowing that bargaining isn’t going to work, especially considering Joanie's cat, Blondie, has just scuttled into the room and is circling her little legs.

"No, baby. He'll be here at breakfast," he says, relenting and leaning over to pick her up.

"Which is how long?" she beams, wide, curious eyes glinting with mischief.

"Many hours yet," he rationalises, knowing Wayne will arrive fairly early but not wanting to say so and adds "Plenty of time to get some sleep."

He settles her in between them and Blondie promptly follows, jumping on the foot of the bed and kneading at the covers right at Steve’s feet.

"Now the cats are here!" Eddie whines, rolling onto his back. He changes his tune when he spots Joanie staring at him adoringly, "Joanie Bologna!"

"Hi," she beams, all teeth.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow, "Are you going to go back to sleep?"

"Promise!"

She pulls the covers up to her neck and kicks around a ridiculous amount before squeezing her eyes shut.

"I’m sleeping!" she announces.

Steve settles back down, "Well I need to sleep, I have a lot of cooking to do."

"Yes, Martha Stewart needs his beauty sleep," Eddie agrees, a grin detectable in his voice.

Steve nods off, now feeling like hours have passed when he stirs at the feeling of Joanie kicking around and grumbling.

"Can I go back to bed?" she stage-whispers.

"Who’s taking you?" Eddie grumbles, turning on his back with a quick "ouch" as Joanie kicks him in the process of mobilising her legs like they are helicopter blades to get the covers off.

"Both," she orders sleepily, managing to boss them about with her eyes half-closed.

They look at each other and Eddie rolls his eyes.

"A miracle," he stage-whispers as he picks her up.

Steve slips out of bed as they both muster up a shred of energy with the silent promise that this is it. The movement startles Blondie, who promptly leaps off the bed, narrowly missing being tangled in Steve’s feet and runs into the hall.

"Night, Joanie bear," Steve coos, kissing her on the cheek when they get Joanie into her own bed.

"Mhmm," she hums with a disgruntled frown like they have the gall to be disturbing her sleep.

She turns over and hugs her favourite spider plushie (named Gregory, lord knows how she comes up with names). Blondie jumps up at the foot of her bed and settles in too.

As they move into the hall, Steve catches a glimpse of the Christmas tree, twinkling just enough from the streetlights outside that he can see it in the fuzzy darkness. And there it is. That inevitable thump Steve has gotten in his chest every Christmas since 1986, the last he had spent with his parents. Actually, it was the last time he had spent any significant time with them, even if it was just a miserable Christmas dinner in silence. For all Joanie knew, Claudia Henderson was Steve's mother. And he liked it that way.

He sniffles as his mind drifts to the last phone call he'd had with his father, eight years ago when he and Eddie first moved to Chicago.

Something drops to the floor and they both jump. 

"Shit!" Steve curses, covering a blubbering gasp as he reflexively shields Eddie with his arm and backs him up against the wall. They immediately look towards Joanie's room but she doesn't seem to stir. He squints in the darkness, unable to make out the moving thing on the hall stand.

"Oh it's just Gandalf," Eddie laughs, picking up the greyish form that must be his cat, aka, the most menacing terror of the bunch. "Go find Ozzy to fight with, you little hell demon."

He sets him down in the direction of the living room and promptly snakes his arms around Steve's middle to lead him.

"Okay, back to bed, mister. Don't want you stumbling around in the dark by yourself without your glasses," he adds, kissing the nape of his neck.

"Where’s Peanut?" is all Steve can think to say, tears prickling up.

Eddie kisses into his hair as he whispers, "Probably asleep in the bath."

Steve grips his arms tight and Eddie hugs him back, probably sensing how tense he is as they awkwardly waddle as one back to bed. He even throws back the covers, helping him in before climbing over to his own side.

"What's wrong?" Eddie asks when he settles back under the covers, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes glisten with worry.

Steve settles in, curling an arm around him and nuzzling into his neck, shielding himself as tears fall as he tries desperately to blink them away. Eddie's hand finds its way to his hair as he begins the soothing motion of combing his fingers through it.

"Just thinking about my folks," he mumbles, not moving from the safety of the crevice between their pillows and Eddie's neck. They hug each other tighter as Eddie gives the faintest, "oh" like he always did when Steve got like this.

"Steve," Eddie says, voice shaky. "You've got Joanie and me… And the silly cats."

"Where's Meatloaf?" he asks, voice cracking from the lump in his throat. He sniffles and shakes his head at the sheer silliness of prioritising locating the damn cats.

Eddie lolls his head to the side, speaking directly into Steve's ear, "If I can detach myself for a moment, I'll look under the bed."

He reluctantly nods and Eddie swiftly moves away to hang over the bed edge.

"Loafy," he coos and makes kissing noises.

"Here he is," Eddie smiles weakly, presenting the little furball. Meatloaf meows excitedly at the sight of Steve and quickly curls up, tucked in right under the arm he slings back over Eddie.

"Listen to me, sweetie," Eddie whispers, his hand combing through his hair with more purpose now. "Joanie is asleep and we'll wake up fresh as daisies in the morning. Wayne will get here for breakfast. Joanie will absolutely adore her dollhouse and then they'll go out in the snow while you get started on the food. Nance and Rob will be here and soon after so will Max, Lucas and Henderson. It will be a great day like it always is with our family. All of us together... Plus, I’ve got an extra-special present for you this year."

Sensing a teasing smile in his voice, Steve can’t help but laugh, "You say that every year."

"Well, yes. Of course, there’s your super-naughty present but I have something else too," Eddie says, not relenting on the teasing.

"Love you Eds," he says, shifting ever-so-slightly to wipe at his nose with his sweater sleeve.

"I love you, Steve," he replies, kissing his cheek as he begins to pry the hearing aid out of his ear. "Get some sleep, muffin."