#the dreidel song has been stuck in my head for years

[gunpowderdtim]

perks of my mom working in a majority jewish area: they sent her home with work with challah bread. i have never had that before today. it's so fucking good. i love bread so much. i hope so much this isn't offensive or anything but you jewish people have really good bread. 10/10. i love bread.

[meangirlsx]

Beetlejuice Hanukkah Headcanons

NOTE: I tried to base characters being Jewish off of the actors while still making it my own story and exploring both perspectives. I wanted to clarify that, so you understand why I’m writing some characters as Jewish when there hasn’t been anything necessarily established in canon or fanon (as far as I know).

Additionally, I did my best to try to make it generic, specific, and universal all at the same time. There are a lot of Orthodox Jews in my extended family who we celebrate with most years, but my immediate family isn’t very religious, so I did what I could from my own experience and experiences of friends. If you come across anything that seems glaringly wrong or accidentally offensive, please feel free to let me know. That was definitely not my intent.

Finally, to go with this, here is a drawing by the wonderful @alotofbooksalittletime​ of Beetlejuice and Lydia at the menorah!

She heard the call for Beetlejuice Hanukkah content and very kindly answered and also DELIVERED. Here is the original post of her drawing on its own, if you would like to help me spread it.

Happy Hanukkah, friends!!!

——

As the holidays approach, the group realizes they haven’t discussed how or what they’re going to celebrate

It starts with Charles, Delia, and Lydia starting to talk about it in the living room

And pretty soon, everyone else has joined in

Beetlejuice is Jewish

Barbara is Christian and Adam is Jewish, and they’ve done their best to celebrate both sets of holidays since they got together

Charles was raised in a Jewish household but he grew less religious as he got older

Emily wasn’t Jewish, but she hadn’t been very religious, either

So they celebrated major holidays with each side of the family

And they kept that going when Lydia was born, but they hadn’t really raised her in any religious practice

Delia also grew up in a Jewish family but wanted to learn about and try to experience other religions once she moved out

She especially liked Hinduism, but nothing stuck for a variety of reasons

She reconnected with Judaism after learning so many of her new family members were Jewish, and now she loves it and feels like it’s another place she belongs besides the family

So the group agrees to celebrate both Christmas and Hanukkah

They’re all really excited

Hanukkah is up first, but the holidays crossover this year, so they decorate the house in a mix of decorations

The tree set up in the living room has Christmas ornaments as well as Hanukkah ones they found when they went shopping

The fireplace mantel holds a menorah, a few individual candles, a stocking for each member of the family, gold tinsel wrapped around the menorah and candles, and a garland draped above the stockings

They have a lot of fun buying and cooking food

Barbara and Adam tell the group about a local bakery that they think makes the best challah bread

And Charles gets his mother’s potato latke recipe that Lydia loved as a kid

On the first night, they start by gathering around the menorah

They agreed that it was probably best to not give everyone their own menorah

Adam lights the shamash candle, then the one candle on the far right side of the menorah using the shamash, and leads everyone in the blessings

Charles and Delia find themselves reciting the words as if they’d never really forgotten

Lydia doesn’t know the blessings, but she thinks they sound beautiful

Barbara and Adam translate and explain the blessings as they sit down for dinner

Over dinner, Barbara and Adam also explain why Hanukkah is celebrated

Beetlejuice even chimes in, he’s so excited

Charles knows the story, but not well, anymore

Delia has recently relearned it, but she loves hearing it told again

And Lydia doesn’t remember much of it from when she was younger

They all enjoy hearing the story retold with so much animation

Lydia really takes to the story of the Maccabees

She finds herself connecting to the concept of a group of underdogs fighting for what they believe in even when the odds are against them

She tries not to get emotional over it, but she does, just a little bit

Naturally, as soon as the others notice, they get emotional, too

The idea of the oil in the menorah in the temple lasting eight days instead of its estimated one also seems to bring them all hope and inspiration

After dinner, they prepare to play dreidel

Before they start the game, they all have a lot of fun just spinning their dreidels

Barbara and Adam see how long they can keep theirs spinning

Beetlejuice definitely uses his powers to keep his spinning longer than possible and even spins it on his finger like a basketball at one point

Charles and Delia haven’t played with a dreidel in a long time, but they get back in the swing very quickly

Lydia has never played with one before, so it takes her a minute to get the hang of spinning her dreidel

Once she does, she and Beetlejuice try to spin their dreidels to knock each other’s over

Eventually, they go over the rules of the game and pass out dried pinto beans to use in place of money

They end up playing for a long time

Beetlejuice and Lydia suggest continuing to play with real money

The adults insist on sticking with the beans

Barbara says that while she doesn’t really enjoy making pottery, she kind of wants to try making a dreidel

(By the following week, she’ll have made one for every single one of them)

This of course prompts Adam to start singing the dreidel song

Barbara joins him, and so does Beetlejuice

Delia ends up joining and encouraging Charles to, as well

Lydia finds it very amusing

Charles doesn’t say it, but he hasn’t sung the song since he was a boy, and singing it with this new-found family makes him emotional all over again

After a few phrases, everyone is ready to stop, except for Beetlejuice and Adam

Barbara breaks out the chocolate gelt to shut them up

But of course the song is stuck in everyone’s heads for the rest of the night

And much of the next day

They had all agreed beforehand that they would exchange most of their presents at Christmas

But they exchange one gift each

When everyone has opened their presents, Beetlejuice says he has a present for everyone and disappears into the kitchen

He returns a moment later, holding a guitar

He begins to strum the guitar relatively aggressively

And he breaks out in “The Hanukkah Song” by Adam Sandler

He doesn’t get very far before everyone stops him

They can’t help cracking up, though

He’ll never admit it, but he never actually intended to sing the whole song

He just wanted to see their reactions and end the night in laughter

——

Tag list: @mars-bars-stars​, @reader-ships​, @anxiousankylosaurus​, @msmith74​, @broadwaymusicaltrash​, @you-thinks-wrong-romeo​, @theatricalwriter​, @be-more-heidi-hansen​, @peachy-jolly​, @g1ngersp1ce​, @trumancheerleadermaui​, @dancewyou​, @percabeth15​, @coral-cat-iris​, @madameboxhead​, @elaineygrace​, @theolwebshooter​, @dontgotothenetherworld​, @ohsomightykeyboard​, @vampireamango​

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[hopefulqueer]

This is late again, but I’ve been busy. Contains: a bit of steelatom and fidget spinner references.

Nate was slumped despondently at the kitchen table, his cheek resting on his hand as he pouted. He would sigh dramatically as anyone walked past him, which earned him a smack on the arm from Amaya and a pen chucked at his head courtesy of Mick. Finally, Ray came over and sat down across from him.

“You know, it's your own fault that you dropped your fidget spinner into the volcano,” Ray reminded him. “You were leaning too far over the edge.”

“I just wanted a cool picture!”

“We're not dropping everything to go to 2017 to get you a new one.”

Nate pouted harder. “Time would survive.”

“We've got too much going on with Darkh being alive again, and Kuasa…” Ray shook his head. “Believe me, I want to take a bit of a break, too. I'd like to visit some people, maybe have an actual Hannukah this year. But we just can't, bro. We're too busy.”

“Yeah,” Nate agreed reluctantly. “It’s okay. I just…” He sighed dramatically. “I’m bored.”

Sara happened to be passing by when she caught the last sentence. “Nathaniel, you live on a time-travelling spaceship. If you’re bored, it’s your own god-damn fault.” She flicked his ear. “Also, we’re heading to 2017 briefly. It’s only a level one Anachronism, but it makes a good excuse to visit family for the holidays.”

Nate perked up. “Sweet!”

“We’ve got two days before we have to take off. We’re all going to do whatever we want after we pick up the gadget-thing from 2078 that landed in a dumpster in Ohio. Come to the control room and strap yourselves in.” Sara left as quickly as she came.

“Well, watch me eat my words,” Ray remarked. “Guess we’re going to 2017 after all.”

Three days later, Nate was once again sitting at the kitchen table and pouting. The level one Anachronism had jumped to a level six, and they’d ended up fighting a small swarm of robots. Nothing they couldn’t handle, but Nate had gotten knocked out and hadn’t been able to buy himself a new fidget spinner before the Waverider had taken off again. He was very disappointed.

Wearing an oversized knitted sweater with a large blue menorah on it, Ray came into the kitchen. He was holding something behind his back. “Hey, Nate,” he said cautiously.

Nate looked up with a heavy sigh. “Yes?”

“I got something for you. I think it might cheer you up.” Ray revealed that he had a small box in his hand, wrapped in plain blue paper.

“It’s not Christmas yet.”

Ray gestured down at himself. “Do I look like I’m someone who gives Christmas gifts, babe?”

“Fair enough. Is it Channkah already?”

“Fifth day, actually. At least, I think so. Hard to keep track of dates when you live on a time machine, but it was day four when we left 2017 yesterday, so I’m going with it. Here, open it!”

Nate took the box. It was about four inches square and an inch deep, fairly heavy, and didn’t make much noise when he shook it. “What is it?”

“You could just open it and find out,” Ray pointed out.

“Don’t I have to wait for sunset, or...something like that?”

Doing his best not to seem exasperated, Ray repeated, “Open it.”

Nate tore the paper open. His face went from confused to delighted and then back to confused. “Oh, it's...it's a fidget spinner? But there's four arms. With weird symbols on them.”

“It's a dreidel!” Ray explained delightedly. “See, that's a hei. That's a nun.”

“What's a nun?”

“The letter, it's a nun.” Ray frowned. “Have you never played dreidel before?”

Nate shook his head.

“Oh. Well, the game is usually played with a four-sided spinning top called a dreidel.”

“Yeah, I mean, I know what a dreidel is. I know the song, oh dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, I made you out of clay?” Nate sang half-heartedly, stopping when he saw Ray’s amused face. “But, um, this? Is not a top.”

“No, but you can still play with it. Whichever arm the arrow in the middle is pointing to, is like what side of the top lands up.”

“And what do the symbols mean?” Nate asked.

“Okay, so…” Ray sat down and began to show Nate which letter meant what. “So, want to play?”

“I just learned, wouldn't you have an unfair advantage?” Nate said.

Ray waved his hand dismissively. “It's complete chance. Nobody has any advantage. So what do you say? How much are we betting?”

“Wait, real money? Don't you play with chocolate, or something like that?”

“I don't have any chocolate gelt on me, do you?” Ray said, grinning.

Nate shrugged. “I'm in.”

“Let's start with coins,” Ray suggested. “See where it goes.”

“You're on.”

Sara was intending to get a cup of coffee when she heard a loud exclamation from the kitchen. A little concerned, she stuck her head into the room. “Everything alright in here?”

“Everything is great!” Ray said happily. He was gathering up a pile of coins, paper money, and a few candy bars. “All mine now.”

Nate pulled a couple of pennies out of his pocket. “This is literally all I have on me now.”

Sara narrowed her eyes. “Are you two gambling?”

“We're playing dreidel,” Ray said. He held up a four-armed fidget spinner with a Hebrew letter on each arm. “See?”

“My god,” Sara said flatly. “I expected better from you, Raymond.” She snatched the spinner from his hand.

“Hey!” Nate yelped. “That's mine.”

Placing the spinner down on the table, Sara flicked one of the arms and set it spinning. She hid a smile at the boys’  confused faces. The spinner slowed, then stopped. “Look at that. A gimel,” Sara stated. “It's all mine now.” She swept all the money and the candy into her pockets, then picked up the spinner and added it to her winnings. “Game over.” She walked out of the room, ignoring the boys’ offended sputtering and letting a smile spread across her face.

She went to Jax’s room and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” he called.

“Hey, Jax. Wanna go on a shopping trip with me?” Sara offered.

Jax put down the little handheld video game device he was playing on. “Where are we going?”

“Taking the jumpship to 2017. No need to tell the others.” Sara offered him her hand. “C’mon.”

“Why the secrecy?” Jax wanted to know.

“I’ll explain on the way.”

Later that night, all the Legends were dragged into the kitchen by an enthusiastic Jax.

“There'd better be a good reason for this,” Mick mumbled.

“I'm sure there is!” Ray said. He was holding Nate’s hand to pull him along, though Nate wasn't thrilled.

“Why are you so happy?” he muttered.

“Haircut’s always happy,” Mick replied. “That's what makes him annoying.”

“Just this once, I agree with Mick,” said Nate.

Ray pouted. But the pout disappeared as soon as he walked into the kitchen. “Oh, my--”

Sara was standing there. The lights were partially dim, there were blue and white fairy lights strung up around the whole room, and a large, tasteful golden menorah sat on the table along with a heaping pile of latkes and a plate of doughnuts. But the biggest surprise was that Martin was standing right next to her.

“We're having Channukah and a reunion,” Sara announced. “And I have gifts for everyone.”

Beaming, Jax went up and put his arm around Martin’s shoulders. “Surprise!”

Ray was practically squealing with joy as he ran around to look at the decorations. “It's wonderful! Oh, thank you, Sara!”

“It's not just for you,” Sara said dryly. “I haven't been able to celebrate Chanukah for years, either. I used to do it with Laurel, but…”

“I'm sorry, Sara,” Ray said.

She brushed it off. “Don't worry about it. Let's all just sit down and eat latkes and light candles.”

They had an excellent dinner. Zari made Martin explain Judaism to her, saying, “I knew a Jewish person in 2042, but she was afraid to tell me too much about it.”

Amaya rested her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder and slapped Mick’s hand away when he tried to take a latke off the pile she had taken. “Hey! Those are mine!”

“I'm hungry.”

“There are still dozens on the other plate!”

After all of the food was gone, Sara grabbed a bag from under her chair. She stood up and walked around the table, placing a pouch of gold-foil covered chocolate coins. “These are your gifts. Earlier, I saw Nathaniel and Raymond using this--” She held up the dreidel spinner to show them. “--to play dreidel.”

Nate gasped and reached out for the spinner.

Sara dropped it back into the bag without letting him touch it. “Using the money I won from them--”

“She cheated!” Ray made sure they knew.

“--I decided we were going to play with real dreidels. And to avoid any unpleasantness, we're going to use chocolate coins.”

“I don't know, I get more passionate about chocolate than real money,” Zari remarked, making Amaya laugh.

Sara pulled a wooden dreidel out of the bag and placed it in front of Martin. “I think I can trust you to explain the rules and start the game, professor?”

“Absolutely, my dear.”

They all ended up with at least a few chocolate coins. Somehow, though she didn't even eat milk chocolate, Amaya had won most of them. She let Zari slip them into her pockets. Mick stole several from everyone else's pile, but Martin had quite a few as well. Ray had lost most of his.

Once they had lit the candles for the night, the Legends started heading off to bed. Nate approached Sara. “Hey, so...can I have…”

“No,” she replied. “I don't know why Ray bought you that awful thing. But here.” She handed him a plain red fidget spinner. “The same model you dropped off the volcano.”

“Aww. I'm touched.”

“Don't be. I'm just tired of your complaining.” Sara patted him on the shoulder. “Night, Nate.”

“Night, Sara. Happy Chanukah.”

Ray came up to Nate once they were the only ones left in the kitchen. “So...did you have fun?”

“Yeah. It's nice that you guys are sharing your holidays with us,” Nate said.

“Well, we love you guys.”

“And I love you.”

Ray rolled his eyes and blushed a little. “Right back at you.”

“Well, c’mon, dreidel. Let's go to bed.”

“Did…” Ray frowned. “Did you just call me dreidel?”

Nate was trying desperately to keep a straight face. “Uh...yep.”

“Can...I ask….why….?”

Holding direct eye contact with his boyfriend, Nate responded, “Because. You're a Jewish top.”

It took a full three seconds for Ray to get it. When he did, his legs stopped working and he fell backwards, barely catching himself on the table while Nate practically died laughing. “Oh--that was good,” Ray managed. “You got me with that one.”

Wiping his eyes with mirth, Nate shoved his new spinner in his pocket and offered Ray his hand. “C’mon. Time for bed.”

“I can't believe you said that.”

“Well, you still love me.”

“Yeah...I do. Not sure why when you do things like that, but I do.”

I’m not sure if this was really any good, and I didn’t have much time to edit, but it was fun to write. Hope ya liked it! <3 ~Clare

[sroloc--elbisivni]

RvB: A Red Team Celebration

@redvsbluesecretsanta

Merry Christmas, @mercuryblacksleg! Hope you like your Secret Santa gift!

Summary: Red Team doesn’t exactly do holidays traditionally, or tastefully, but they never fail in their enthusiasm. Featuring Lopez the Christmas tree, lights on a Warthog, and a thirty-foot menorah made out of flamethrowers. Gen fluff. Light Grimmons, light sarge/grey.

“Uh. Excuse me, but what the fuck.”

Donut looked up from where he was stringing popcorn onto a needle to see Grif and Simmons staring from the doorway.

“What?” Donut said serenely, threading another piece of popcorn before holding up the string to eyeball it. “It’s traditional. Here, Lopez, hold this for me?”

”No.”

Donut sighed, sticking the end to Lopez’s head with a piece of tape instead, just below the star. “Hmm. Now I know size doesn’t matter, but this could really use a few more inches.”

Grif was still staring, but now his hand was creeping towards the popcorn bowl, so Donut had to smack him away. “Honestly, Grif, I know you love choking it down, but you can walk to the kitchen. I’m using that.”

Simmons, his head poking through the door from behind Grif, blinked. “Is—what happens when he walks away?”

��He won’t. After Sarge got done with him, it turns out he won’t be able to walk for days!”

Lopez rotated his head, disturbing the tinsel around his neck and sending a few pieces scattering on the floor. The ornaments Donut had taped on a few minutes ago jingled, but didn’t fall off. ”Help me. Please.”

“Oh, Lopez, don’t be ridiculous. We can’t add the lights yet. Sarge hasn’t finished painting them all red!”

Grif came back from the kitchen, holding popcorn. “Okay. I’m probably going to regret this, but one question: why.”

“I told you. It’s traditional.”

Simmons made a face. “No, trees are traditional. This—I don’t know what this is, I think it might be cruelty to robots.”

”Thank you.”

“Not that it really matters, since Lopez doesn’t care.”

“I will pour motor oil on the things you love.”

“Do you see any trees around here?” Donut waved one hand to indicate the room, as well as the general idea of ‘island in the middle of nowhere.’ “And aw, Lopez, that’s sweet!”

“What is?”

“He said he loves us.”

Simmons pulled off a dubious expression very well. Half of his face being metal really helped.

“Huh.” Grif stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth, looking thoughtful. “Got any more of those lights?” He moved the bowl out of Simmons’ reach before he could grab some.

“Sarge took all of ours, but I think Blue Team still has some from that whole Caboose debacle.”

“Cool. See you later.” Grif took the bowl of popcorn with him.

Donut went back to stringing on popcorn, humming Christmas music. That didn’t mean he missed Simmons’ hand sneaking towards the bowl.

“Ow! Donut!”

“Oh, stop whining. It wasn’t even anywhere tender.”

Carolina hadn’t really stopped for the holidays in a long time, before Chorus. There was always somewhere to be, things to do, people to hunt down, information to find, training. Always something.

And then she had stumbled into a corner of Armonia where someone had carefully framed a computer chip on the wall, a piece of masking tape stuck onto it reading “ תוֹרָה.” On the table beneath it had been a single lamp, powered by a jury-rigged battery.

Carolina remembered standing at the doorway of that little room for a long, long time.

Now she was standing at the doorway of the base, and had been for a long time, but for a very different reason.

“Sarge,” she said, finally. “That...I appreciate the offer, but I don’t--it doesn’t need to be that much fire.”

Sarge looked up from where he was using a sledgehammer and stakes to make sure the last flamethrower was secured completely to the welded-together scrap metal. Carolina could barely see him in the gathering dark. “What?”

Carolina sighed, and took a deep breath to raise her voice. “It doesn’t need that much fire!”

“WHAT?”

Carolina cupped her hands around her mouth. “IT--DOESN’T--NEED--” She stopped shouting and looked again.

Sarge was working on the last of nine upright, oversized flamethrowers he and Simmons had spent most of the day modifying after she had asked--naïvely--if the base had any candles laying around, because she wanted to put together a menorah. The answer had been no. Or, more accurately, the answer had been no, and then Sarge getting a very worrying glint in his eye.

And now there was a giant menorah of scrap metal and flamethrowers put together on the lawn in front of Red Base. She could just barely see where Simmons was hanging onto the far left one, hitting it with a wrench.

It was ridiculous. It was probably going to blow up in a few hours.

And it was...actually kind of sweet.

“YOU KNOW WHAT? NEVER MIND.”

Grif came up behind her, munching on something. “Has anything blown up yet?”

“Surprisingly, no.” Carolina tipped her head to the side, watching as Simmons almost fell off. He and Sarge shouted at each other for a few more minutes before Sarge climbed down.

“HEY!” Simmons squawked. “I’M STILL--NO NONONONONON--”

Simmons did fall off this time, as Sarge started cackling maniacally, and ended up rolling onto the ground. Carolina could admit that at least all the Reds and Blues knew how to fall properly.

“I’m okay!”

“Nerd,” Grif mumbled, around a mouthful of something. “Oh, hey. Here.”

Carolina looked down to see him offering an unopened bag of potato chips. “What’s this for?”

“Simmons said you eat fried potato things. Right?” He sounded a little bit uncertain.

Carolina took the bag of chips, trying not to laugh. “Thank, Grif. It means a lot.”

“HEY! ARE WE GONNA LIGHT THIS THING OR WHAT?”

“Wait! I’m getting the cookies!” Donut rushed past with a dish of cookies that Carolina was reasonably sure--when she squinted--were frosted dreidels.

Well then.

Grif gestured with his own bag of chips. “After you.”

The remote starter Sarge had put together worked perfectly, so after Carolina had stumbled her way through the songs she could just barely remember, the buttons were pushed so first the center, then the far left spout went up in flames.

Donut clapped excitedly. Grif swiped a cookie. Sarge cackled.

“Wait,” Carolina said, as realization hit her. “Where’s Lopez?”

“I hate all of you.”

Dr. Grey made a thoughtful sound as she examined the setup. “Is that…comfortable?”

“No. This entire situation is despicable. If I had a nervous system, I would be ready to rip it out just to end the suffering.”

“Lopez says he’s snug as a bug in a rug, Dr. Grey!”

“If you’re sure,” she said, already moving on. “Ooh, Donut, those look lovely.”

“My aunt Agatha’s own recipe,” he replied, cheerfully. “And let me say again just how glad we are to have you here for the holidays, Dr. Grey.”

“Oh, just call me Emily. After all, I’m not here to patch you up!”

“Well I’d be happy to take a checkup from you anytime.”

Grif had already absconded with a plate of cookies to sit by the TV, where Simmons was arguing holiday movie selections with Caboose. No one was sure why Caboose was there. No one really knew how to get rid of him.

“No—Caboose, we’re not going to watch Love Actually. It doesn’t even count as a Christmas movie.”

“Yes it does. It is snowing. So it is Christmas.”

Carolina, from where she was watching the whole thing, snorted into her cocoa.

“It’s not—Grif, back me up here.”

“Hey, I said we should watch Die Hard.”

Simmons sputtered. “That’s even less of a Christmas movie.”

“Ooh! Stranger Things!”

“No!” Simmons put his head in his hands. “Look. Can’t we all agree on one terrible stop-motion animation Christmas special?”

“That shit is nightmare fuel,” Grif complained.

“We’ve almost died like, ten times in the past year, and that’s what you’re calling nightmare fuel?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I do not want the little elf to pull my teeth,” Caboose said seriously.

“I hate all of you,” Simmons said, flatly. “I mean it this time. I really do.”

Grif shrugged and ate another cookie.

The door to the base slammed open, heralding Sarge’s entrance. “Treason! Disaster! Subterfuge!”

The room looked up at him.

“Those filthy blues have covered our warthog—the great and mighty transportation of the Red Army—in lights! Of the worst color—blue!”

Grif quietly collected the plate of cookies and tried to sneak towards the door.

“Private Grif! What kind of desertion are you trying to pull?”

“Desertion?” Grif said, tone innocent as he could manage. “No desertion. Just going to investigate. Sir.”

“Hmph.” Sarge looked like he wanted to argue, but Grif figured the combined opportunity to get rid of him, plus the idea of figuring out what was going on, was too good to pass up. “Well. I suppose even you have to be useful sometimes, Private Grif. On accident. Barely.”

Grif rolled his eyes and grabbed another couple of cookies off of Donut’s tray before vanishing out the door.

It was quiet and dark out—aside from the five lit flamethrowers on the menorah. Carolina had pointed out that they only needed to burn for half an hour, but when they had all stared at her, she had added, “…but they can always go for longer, I guess.”

Grif took his cookies well away from the giant columns of fire, heading for the Warthog covered in Christmas lights.  

He hadn’t been the one who changed them all to blue. He would have done it, if he’d thought of it, but he hadn’t. So sue him.

Point was, Grif hadn’t done it. And the only one who’d been out here since they’d gone inside after lighting up the menorah had been Sarge. So either it was the Blues pulling a prank—which, Tucker and Wash were alone in their base with Caboose gone, so Grif would bet they were busy—or someone else.

Grif was betting on the someone else.

He put the plate of cookies on part of the frame while he climbed up into the back, legs dangling off the edge. His heels kicked, almost absent-mindedly, and Grif pulled a gingerbread cookie off the plate to bite the limbs off while he watched the dark.

It was almost easier watching for this without a helmet. Seeing the world through a visor, you got used to distortion, little ripples flickering around everything. It was harder to pick out what didn’t belong.

Bare-eyed, he could see the soft flicker of camouflaged armor moving towards the Warthog.

There were a few loud creaks, and the Warthog shifted as weight pressed on one side of its frame, but the air next to Grif still looked pretty empty.

“Dude,” Grif said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t care what kind of superpowers you’ve got. If you want one of these, you’re gonna have to take the helmet off.”

There was a long pause, and then Locus’ familiar armor shimmered into view, and his hands reached up to pull off his helmet.

You look like shit, Grif kind of wanted to say, but he didn’t, because he knew that feeling. So instead, he grabbed another couple of cookies and shoved the plate over.

Locus took one, hesitantly, and turned it over to examine the sprinkles.

“Blue?” Grif asked, just to fill in the silence. “Really?”

“Green seemed…too obvious.” He glanced back at the Warthog in all its twinkling glory. “Your handiwork?”

“What, you’re gonna pretend you weren’t watching?”

The silence spoke for itself. Grif snorted.

“Yeah,” he said, running one hand over the lights. “It’s something…back home. It was this whole thing, when I was a kid. People would put lights all over their cars, and on Christmas day there’d be this big parade. One giant party on the beach.” It felt weird, admitting that, even though he knew he’d said more embarrassing shit when Locus was helping him recue the guys.

Locus didn’t say anything, just chewing on the cookie.

“Look,” Grif said, finally, after the silence had gone on way too long. “Do you want to come inside? We’re gonna argue about stop motion for probably ten more minutes and then put on the Muppets Christmas Carol. There’s popcorn and shit. It’ll be fine.”

“That seems…unwise.”

Grif shrugged. He hadn’t been sure it was going to work. “Suit yourself.”

But he didn’t make any move to go anywhere for another few long minutes.

When there was a faint scream from inside the base, though, he sighed and rolled forward, landing on his feet. “Anyway. I better go back in. Offer’s open if you get cold. And keep the cookies, Donut’s been baking like a nutcase.”

Locus looked up from the single cookie with a bite out he was still playing with, and nodded.

Grif made it five steps away before he heard his name called out, and turned back around to see Locus watching him, almost sheepish.

“I…thank you.”

Grif shrugged. “No problem, dude. Merry Christmas.”

When he made it back inside, the alien and the rat puppets were already up on screen, yammering about something or other, so it seemed things were right on schedule. Lopez was in the corner, muttering death threats, so whenever Sarge reactivated his leg servos Grif was going to go on a long walkabout. Donut had settled on the couch with Caboose, Sarge and Dr. Grey were cuddled up together in a chair (ew ew ew ew ew) and Carolina was resting her feet on an old engine and working her way through another cup of cocoa.

Simmons was on the far end of the couch, so Grif detoured to grab some cookies and a blanket before flopping down at his feet, leaning back against the couch and making Simmons jump.

“Dude, chill.”

“You chill,” Simmons muttered, darkly, but didn’t flinch away again.

Cookies. Cheesy movies. Giant flamethrowers and lurking reformed bad guy outside. Blanket and Simmons to lean against.

Not a bad setup, all things considered.

Grif gave it ten minutes before asking, “So, Die Hard?”

Simmons’ hand, where it had been creeping into Grif’s hair, yanked away to bring a pillow thumping down on his head.