#the four of them are SO FUN to write together oh my gooooooood

[queen-scribbles]

Tradition

I blame @storyknitter and @greyias for this but didn’t really take much convincing. And bonus, it’s done for Theron Thursday!

---

The sweater was, beyond any doubt, one of the most ridiculous things Briyoni had ever seen. Bright red background, tinsel woven into the green collar and cuffs, the chest emblazoned with a massive kybuck wearing a red drooping hat and heart shaped sunglasses made of sequins.

In short, it was amazing.

She was so caught up in grinning at this marvel of Life Day fashion, her focus on the surroundings slipped until a voice murmured in her ear, “Little off course, aren’t we, Colonel?”

Bry flinched, her elbow starting to jerk back before the familiarity of the voice--and the cologne its owner was wearing--hit her. “One of these days, Jonas, I’m gonna actually break your ribs when you do that, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

Jonas laughed. “Only in my reflexes completely fail me.” He didn’t move, the heat of him close enough to feel against her back. “As I was saying, aren’t you a little far from where you need to be?”

“Yeah, but enjoying Life Day kitsch is more fun than shopping for food,” she grinned, leaning back against his chest as she held up her find.

He snorted. “Are you seriously gonna buy that?”

“Hell, yeah. For Vica.” Bry shifted  to see his expression on the pause and it was exactly as good as she expected. “Whaddya think, babe, would she wear it, or just thank me politely and stick it in her closet, never to see the light of day?”

“I think you have a better chance of getting her to wear it than anyone else,” Jonas said with a smirk, scanning the other sweater designs. “You realize if you give her that, I’m morally obligated to give Shan this one.” He pulled one free and held it up-- mirrored white tauntaun silhouettes forming “snowflakes” on a dark blue background. “What would you call this? Taun-flakes?”

She shook her head, not even trying to fight her smile. “Not his colors, he won’t wear th-”

“Oh, sure, that’s why,” Jonas snarked.

Bry rolled her eyes at his interruption. “It’s not ugly enough anyway. You gotta commit on somethin’ like this, Jo. Here.” She shoved the kybuck sweater into his hands and started digging through the rack. “Ah, here we go-” She teetered when she started to straighten.

“Careful, gorgeous,” Jonas chuckled, catching her arm. The chuckle turned to a full blown laugh when he saw what she’d found.

The sweater was a darker red than the one for her sister, with black collar, hem, and cuffs. Snow-capped mountains and volcanic steam vents alternated in a pattern around the sleeves and waist, the upper portion of the chest dominated by a wampa with arms raised and a giant white pompom nose. The words ‘Hoth Stuff’ were embroidered over the steam vents to the right and left of the beast.

“Oh. My-” His shoulders shook trying to hold back the full force of warranted laughter. He only partially succeeded. “Briyoni, you know there’s no way in hell he’ll wear that, right? I don’t have that much blackmail material on him.”

“Vic batting her eyes and saying please might work,” Bry drawled.

Jonas snorted a laugh. “The look on his face might be worth the price of admission, though.” Dug for the tag. “...Fifty credits... yeah, that’ll pay off.”

“Found one for you, too, handsome,” Bry teased, rocking the hanger on her fingers. “You both think you’re funny.” She grinned innocently as Jonas looked over the sweater, grey and patterned with gift boxes.

“‘Ugly Life Day Sweater’,” he read off in a drawl before shooting her a flat look. “Cute. But no. I’ll be taking the taun-flakes if I’m getting one and my tastes don’t pass muster for Theron.”

“I told you, babe, it’s not ugly enough. You have to go all in on gifts like this.” She gestured dramatically at their growing collection of sweaters.

“In that case I can’t wait to see what you picked out for yourself.”

Her grin widened. She’d been waiting for him to ask. “First, bold of you to assume anything will look ugly on me-”

“No arguments here.”

“-Second...” She presented the sweater with a flourish. Green and gold patterned with repeating Republic capital ship outlines, jinglers on the cuffs, and faux-ribbon crisscrossing to a bow dead center on the chest.

Jonas shot her an amused look. “Bry. Darling. That’s three sizes too big for you.”

“It’s the only size they have left. All the better to lounge around in”--she winked--”without pants.”

He grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her close. “In that case, do I get to joke about unwrapping my Life Day present when you wear it?” he murmured in her ear.

Bry let out a giggle-snort. “Once. And not in front of my sister and her husband.”

“Aw, you’re no fun.” The glint in his eye gave lie to the words. “Once per day you wear it.”

“Deal.” The complaint might be a little more believable if they weren’t staring down the barrel of their seventh anniversary. He found her plenty fun and she knew it. “Now, I guess we should go be responsible adults and see how much of our budget is left for food.”

“Guess we should...” He stole a kiss. “If we want to be responsible.”

“More like if we wanna eat this week,” Bry retorted. “Dunno if you noticed, Balkar, but the kitchen’s pretty empty an’ we aren’t heading to Odessen for another four or five days. How do you survive when I’m not here?”

“Moping and takeaway, mostly,” Jonas deadpanned. “And you say that like you were any better when you were based here.”

“Oh, hush, you,” she grumbled around a grin, then linked her hand with his to head for the food sections. The weight of the sweaters they carried triggered an anticipatory giggle.

Can’t wait to see Vica’s face. 

---

Briyoni was up to something. Even with the brief time they’d been reunited, Vica could tell that much, and she didn’t even need to Force to do it. And if the grins they kept exchanging were any sort of clue, her husband was in on it. Which was unsurprising, and had Theron’s suspicions raised as well--higher than Vica’s own.

She should know to trust his instincts by now. But believing the best of people was her fatal flaw, and it extended to even less life or death matters. Like sibling  plots. 

“So, Vic, we have somethin’ for you,” Briyoni said, with the too-bright smile of troublemakers the galaxy over.

“It’s not Life Day yet,” Vica pointed out warily. “And the Alliance party isn’t until tomorrow.”

“All the more reason to give it to you now.” Her sister’s smile had gone more sly, and Vica could practically feel Theron’s eyes narrowing without looking at him.  Bry held up two gift boxes. “Pink’s for you, silver’s for your spy boy.” She shot Theron a grin, which was matched by Jonas as he draped an arm around Bry’s shoulders.

“You shouldn’t have,” Theron deadpanned, handling the box as if it were a bomb when Vica passed it to him.

“Oh, yes, we should.” The words came from Briyoni and Jonas in unison, as if they’d guessed his response and practiced.  "Only the best for the man with my sister’s best interest at heart,” Briyoni’s smile was just a tad sharp and Jonas hid a laugh--badly--in a cough.

Vica settled her gift in her lap, tore the paper just enough to get it open, and couldn’t bite back a reactionary giggle at the sunglass-wearing kybuck that greeted her. “Really, Briyoni?”

Her sister grinned. “Really, Vica. Don’t tell me the Jedi never participate in the long and glorious tradition of ugly sweaters for Life Day.”

Vica opened her mouth, several responses vying for prominence. Starting with Jedi having their own holiday traditions, this was a ridiculous sweater, and ending with a reminder Odessen was temperate and they didn’t need to dress so warmly, but she didn’t get to say any of them because Theron got his box open.

“No,” he said flatly, shooting a dirty look at the matched smirks on the couch opposite. “Absolutely not.”

Briyoni and Jonas both burst into laughter, I told you escaping from him as the two struggled to rein themselves in.

“How bad...?” Vica asked, turning to Theron. He tipped the box so she could see the wampa sweater. She covered her mouth with one hand to hide the smile.  “Oh, my. Mine’s not quite so... detailed.” She pulled the kybuck sweater out of the box to show him. It was surprisingly soft for such a ridiculous garment.

“Cute,” Theron drawled, then glowered at Briyoni and Jonas again. “I’m not wearing this.”

Vica, however, pulled her on as they needled him about his obstinacy. Mostly curious if it was soft as it seemed. But a little because there was a smug note to Briyoni’s sense that doubted her straight-laced sister would wear something so silly and Vica wanted to prove her wrong.

Jonas tossed her an approving grin, then looked back at Theron. “Not even to keep your wife and Commander from sticking out like a sore thumb?”

“You say that like the two of you aren’t planning to wear similar abominations,” Theron retorted dryly.

“Guilty,” Jonas shrugged. “But that shouldn’t get in the way of you showing solidarity.”

Theron’s scowl at his friend deepened, but Vica sensed the moment of wavering before he shook his head. “I have stuff to do. That’s actually helpful.” He pushed to his feet and left the room. 

“I think you could talk him around,” Briyoni said cheerfully, grinning at Vica.  “Gotta say, sis, wasn’t sure you’d actually wear that.”

“It’s comfortable,” Vica said, straight-faced but feeling a smile tug her lips. She brushed her fingers over the sequins. “And it would be rude to refuse a gift.”

“They are fun to unwrap,” Jonas commented blithely, then snickered when Briyoni dug her elbow into his ribs.

Vica didn’t figure out why until the following day.

---

The box with the wampa sweater sat on their bed, studiously ignored by Theron as he slouched on the sofa, datapad in hand. 

Vica smiled at the sight; the box sitting out in the open rather than crammed in a drawer spoke to her suspicion being correct.

“Can you believe them? Giving that as a gift?” Theron asked when he heard her enter, not looking up from whatever report he was reading.

“Knowing my sister and her husband even a little, yes.” Vica keyed the door closed and joined him. “I’m more surprised that you’re surprised, honestly.”

He grunted noncommittally.

Vica twisted a loose bit of hair around her finger. “They think I could talk you into wearing it.”

Now the datapad lowered, and Theron met her gaze with a sheepish half-smile. “In all honesty, there’s good odds you could.” I have trouble telling you no.

“But I won’t.” She laced her fingers between his and squeezed his hand. “Not if it’s something you genuinely don’t want to do.”

He stared at their hands a moment, then raised them to kiss her fingers. “That’s something I’ve always loved about you, y’know.”

“What?”

“You let people make their own choices.” He settled their hands back in his lap. “There’s prob’ly, what, half a dozen ways at least you could make people agree with you, do what you want, but you don’t. You let them make their own calls. Good or bad.”

Vica shrugged. “Freedom is important.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Theron spoke again. “That sweater really is ridiculous....” 

She traced her finger idly around his knuckles and waited.

“...but I guess that’s the point of holiday parties, isn’t it? Being a little ridiculous?”

“It’s up to you,” she said mildly.

“They’re gonna get holos.” He raked his fingers through his hair.

“So we make good memories to go with them.” Vica leaned in to kiss his temple. “If you want.”

She could sense his internal conflict--and which side was winning.

“...Guess I’ll stand out more if I’m not wearing one....” Theron sighed. “I’ll wear the blasted thing.” 

“Yeah?” Vica let the smile she’d been burying spread across her face. It would be good for him to do something fun. And she’d think he was cute regardless.

“Yeah.” He tugged on her hand and Vica obliged by straddling his lap, his arms settling around her waist. “Someone has to distract people from that monstrosity you’re wearing, might as well be me.”

She laughed quietly and ran her fingers through his hair. “Your commander appreciates the heroic sacrifice, Agent Shan.”

Theron arched a brow at the kybuck’s pink sequin sunglasses, then tilted his head back. “Looking at that sweater makes it real hard to take you seriously,” he murmured.

“Then stop looking at my sweater,” Vica returned, one hand cupping the back of his neck.

He laughed a Sure thing, Commander and kissed her just as deep as she’d been hoping.

---

Bry had to admit, the look on Vica’s face upon registering her sweater’s gift-box design in conjunction with Jonas’ comment from the day before was almost worth him breaking the terms of their deal.

“So, going by that smirk, am I forgiven?” Jonas teased. He handed her a cup of punch, then choked on a drink of his own when he caught where she was looking. “Sweet spires of Taris, I don’t believe it.”

She laughed. “I’d think you were uniquely qualified to know the persuasive powers of a Nerai woman.”

“Touché,” he grinned.  “ Help me wrangle them for a group holo?”

“Obviously. We need evidence this happened in case they try to deny it,” she grinned back, and they headed toward Vica and Theron, snagging Vette along the way to do the honors.(Jonas didn’t help matters greeting Theron with “Hey Hoth Stuff” and a shit-eating grin)

It took some cajoling, and a few tries to get right--not that the outtakes weren’t golden. The finished product, however--her and Jonas with arms around each others’ shoulders and Vica smiling brighter than the holo-tree behind them as Theron kissed the top of her head--had Bry thinking maybe this needed to become a new Life Day tradition.

Now she just had to convince her sister.