Just a short Christmas fic for Black Sails. Merry Christmas, to all my followers who celebrate, and happy holidays to everyone! Chapter 14 of To the Upper Air will be posted soon (just not tonight because it’s oh gods why aren’t you asleep o’clock and I need to get some amount of rest in).

Silver and Gold Decorations (Shall Be Hung on James In Lieu of a Tree)

When he had first met James, he had dared to dream.

It had been a bright, summer day in July when he had first looked at James, his hair shining in the sun as he and Miranda laughed together at something or other, and thought what their first Christmas together might be like. They had been young, and in love, and Thomas had allowed himself to imagine the most wonderful things possible. A Christmas spent at home, just the three of them and the servants. James, wearing something other than his uniform for a change, and Miranda and Thomas being silly until he unbent and allowed himself to relax. Snow outside the windows, and the fire crackling in the hearth to warm them all, and no sign of Alfred anywhere to be found. A real Christmas, for the first time in Thomas’ memory.

He had not, he thought ruefully, imagined anything like this. The setting, for one, was entirely different, with no snow and, he thought with a short, thankful prayer, no cold seeping in from anywhere. He was warm – entirely, wonderfully warm. The tropical Bahamas sun came streaming in through the windows of the small house they now shared, and Thomas wiped sweat from his brow, still not used to the heat of the island after the cold of first England and then Bedlam. The sounds of foreign insects and even more foreign birds filled the air, and the smell of the sea washed over him, brought in by the warm breeze. It had been one hell of an adjustment, and the difference was never more obvious than it was now, on Christmas day, the horns and rattles of the Junkanoo celebration still fading into the distance, and the few ornaments they had hung suspended not from a pine tree but from –

“No, I am not wearing that for an earring!” James’ arms were crossed, but the look on his face belied the indignation in his tone as he looked at Miranda, who was sitting on the chaise, one eyebrow raised, and a smile firmly planted on her face, looking at him with fondness, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“You were the one that decided to pierce your ear,” she pointed out. “You can hardly look surprised when I decide to use you for a Christmas tree!”

“Thomas is the tall one!” James pointed out, pulling his ear away from Miranda’s hand once again. “Hang it on him!”

“James, are you implying that I’m a tree?” Thomas asked.

“You see? He admits it,” James argued, and Miranda laughed.

“I have thought about piercing mine to match, you know,” Thomas said companionably. He sat down on the chaise next to James, who raised an eyebrow.

“You hate pain,” he pointed out.

“No – I hate pain that is inflicted for no particular reason. This would be romantic. Matching earrings,” Thomas pointed out, and James snorted.

“Tell me that again when you’re not half-soused on egg-nog, and maybe I’ll agree – Miranda!”

Miranda giggled, and James rolled his eyes, the ornament that Miranda had just hung from the hole in his earlobe dangling festively.

“You two are absolutely ridiculous,” he pronounced.

“You love us for it,” Miranda teased, and James’ gaze softened.

“You’re right,” he acknowledged, “I do.” He leaned forward to kiss her – and Thomas attempted not to snort out loud as James removed the ornament from his ear to hang it carefully from Miranda’s hair. He pulled back, eyes dancing with mirth, and Miranda’s eyes widened, a confused expression crossing her face. She swung her head back and forth – and then James was off the chaise, escaping as she comprehended what he had done.

“James! Do you know how long I had to spend on my hair to -” she started, and then collapsed, laughing helplessly.

“Oh, I can’t even be angry at you, you great overgrown boy,” she giggled, and James grinned.

“I know.”

Thomas simply sat back, watching them banter. It was not, he thought, what he had first imagined, but it was perfect all the same. The climate may have been less than ideal, and their circumstances far from the lavish, decadent Christmas he had planned to properly welcome James to family holidays, but still – they were here, they were together, and best of all, they were happy. 

“You look quite fetching,” he promised his wife as she attempted to fish the ornament out of her hair. “Next time, we’ll -”

James’ eyes narrowed as Thomas began to whisper a fresh strategy for decorating their lover in her ear.