A Collection of Odds & Ends

UnHappy Holiday (Ubbe - Vikings)

"Can I take a picture of you, so I can show Santa exactly what I want for Christmas?" You drunkenly laugh at Ivar's request. He rarely speaks to you, yet here he is with a camera aimed at you - ready to snap a photo of you in all of your festive glory.

"Go for it, Iv." You encourage, striking your best pose. Making sure to show off your ugly Christmas sweater, a request by Hvitserk of course.

Posing for one or two more photos, all of which Ivar will probably use as blackmail one day when you least expect it, you fail to notice the man in the corner watching with the pout.

Sunk back in the arm chair, Ubbe nurses his rum and egg nog, watching as his unusually happy baby brother interacts with you. Ivar never speaks to you, whatever he is up to Ubbe is unsure, but he doesn't like it.

Ubbe watches as you sway to the cheesy Christmas music, humming along with not a care in the world. He isn't drunk enough to join you, not yet. Tipping back the rest of his 'nog, Ubbe licks his lips and stands to retrieve another. Once he finishes this glass, he will cut you off and engage you in a dance or other festive activities. None of which include Ivar.

Topped up, more rum than egg nog thanks to Sigurd's expert bar tending skills, Ubbe returns to the living room to find you've vanished. Taking a drink, wiping his beard to assure there is no frothy white left behind, he sighs heavily and scours the room.

Relieved when he sees Ivar sat chatting with some random friends, Ubbe reclaims his mission to find you. Wherever you've gone, you can't be far. Somewhere between Hvitserk's three Christmas trees, giant snow man display - who has that in their house anyway? - and a few dozen bodies dressed in the fugliest Christmas sweaters that he has ever witnessed, Ubbe finds his prize.

"Well, Hello Mr. Ragnarsson." You giggle, tipping your chocolate milk and spiced rum toward him.

"Hello," Ubbe sits on the floor next to you, back against the wall. "Why are you down here?" More than likely you tripped and didn't bother to stand back up.

"Watching." You replied with a smile. "Have you ever noticed that this time of year brings out the oddest behaviour?" You raise your brow, your eyes wide as you take a drink.

"How so?" Ubbe's curiosity got the better of him.

Licking your lips, you can't help a shrug. "Ivar for example," You point in the direction of the man hobbling around the house with his camera. "He is never this happy, but at Christmas, he is a kitten. He is a little boy all over again."

Ubbe wouldn't bother to point out that Ivar was never a happy child.

"He gets into it." Ubbe agreed. Christmas was the only time of year his baby brother wasn't an outright asshole to everyone.

"Or Bjorn," You squint, the eldest Ragnarsson is here, but not visible from where you are sitting. "He gets grumpy, he doesn't care, and just wants it all to be over."

Bjorn had hated the holidays for as long as Ubbe could remember. Once Thanksgiving came, his older brother was a real Grinch. Something that likely came from being a child of divorce.

"Then we have Hvitserk and Sigurd," You giggle at the thought of the party animal and the stoner. "They love any excuse to party, naturally. But even they change a little. Hvitty is even more wound up, I'm shocked we don't have to anchor him down." You tip your glass, Ubbe following your actions. "And Sig, well...you know he gave me the socks that you gave him last year?"

Sigurd doesn't have to buy for you, none of them do, but he always gives you the worst re-gifted presents. What did he think you'd do with a beard trimmer? Whatever, the thought counted.

"And then we have you," You poke him in the shoulder with a huff.

"Me?" Ubbe points to himself, smirking like the cat that ate the cream. He could only imagine what you were going to say about him.

Ubbe always gave you the best presents. Ubbe had included you in every holiday tradition his family had. Ubbe had even got you a special stocking, to match each one of the family's, to hang on Christmas eve.

You were his best friend and for the last month, his girlfriend, and he was proud of that.

"Mmm." You hum, "You, love, are a magnificent man. But, you're jealous and act like a spoiled little boy."

Ubbe's chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. "Do I?"

He would hold off on pointing out your holiday flaws, as much as he wanted to remind you that in no way are you perfect, Ubbe knew how to avoid a fight.

"You pout and sulk, whenever I talk to someone else. You and Bjorn practically got into a fight last night, when we hosted dinner." You shake your head, trying to put that entire disaster out of your mind.

"He insulted you."

"He asked where the turkey was. Not exactly a crime, when it comes to holiday dinners." You have a burst of laughter. Ubbe rolled his eyes, you were to never speak of that again! "We invited them for turkey dinner, Ubbe."

And a turkey you would have served, but you had other plans and stupidly Ubbe had gone alone with it. Plans which were far more enjoyable than tending to a turkey in the oven.

"Okay, so other than that..." He tried to find an example.

"Tonight," You answer straight forward. "When Ivar was teasing me, don't think that I didn't see you. Pouting, because Ivar was talking and laughing with me."

"He was flirting." Ubbe protested.

"He was not," You smack him in the arm, rolling your eyes at him. "He was teasing me and taking some photos." You lean into Ubbe, "Even if he was, do you think I care?"

Who doesn't love a little flirting? Of course you like it, Ubbe wasn't foolish.

"Babe," Ubbe began, rubbing his hand across his beard.

"No, Ubbe, just listen." You state firmly. "I don't care if Ivar or Prince Harry comes in here and flirts with me, asking to take my photo. It makes no difference to me, do you know why?"

"Why?" Ubbe wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know.

He had worked hard to get you, not as hard as he would like to think, but he had waited a fair amount of years. The last thing Ubbe wanted was someone else to take your attention away.

"Because I love you, Ubbe Ragnarsson. Not Ivar or anyone else, you." You firmly poke him in the chest. "I love you and everything about you."

"Even if you do get us into trouble, from time to time, I love you too." Ubbe smirks, leaning in for a kiss. "I'm sorry."

"I know," You pat his knee. "Come on, let's go home. I want to get you our of that fucking sweater." You pull a disgusted face, laughing.