A Very Special Reaper Diaries Christmas: Epilogue
29 Dec 2015Michael Wolfe
We ended up staying for three more days. And it was perfect.
Rather than being shut-ins like we had on Christmas, we took full advantage of our time together. Kyndi was happy to fly us all over the planet, and even to a few off-world sites. We ate at fine restaurants, played tourists across the system, and even discovered a little community that still practiced Christmas in the old style. They even, for a modest fee, had honest-to-God sleigh rides. With real horses.
Kyndi was at first nervous around, and then became attached to the gentle beasts that pulled the sleigh. The driver had even given her a few carrots to feed them, advising Kyndi to keep her hand flat and just let the horses pick up the vegetable with their lips. She squealed with delight and petted the animal for as long as she could linger.
The best part of the entire experience had been feeling the cold air against my face as the sleigh moved through the snow, while Kyndi huddled against me in a self-warming thermal blanket. I had always found her beautiful, but watching her stare out at the snowy landscape, scarf around her neck and stars in her eyes, she was almost painfully so.
Saying goodbye had been difficult, if for no other reason than because of the unexpectedly good time we had all had. Now, we were back at Shajin Market, both napping in her Cobra’s bunk after the long journey back. The grey surroundings of a ship’s cabin were both a familiar and comparatively soulless thing to behold.
Kyndi was resting her head on my chest, me stroking her back. We hadn’t said anything in an hour, just enjoying the peace and quiet. The chinchilla fur blanket had been keeping us both warm, and I could feel the thick wool socks on Kyndi's feet. She stirred and put her arm around my stomach, squeezing me gently.
“You know, times like that are what makes commanders like us go soft.”
I chuckled, causing her arm to bounce slightly. “Ain’t that the truth. Good food, comfortable surroundings, real furniture- and you slept in later than I’ve ever seen you.”
Against my chest, I could feel a smile spread across her face. “Yeah, I noticed that, too. There was just something different about staying there- I mean, I grew up sleeping in a ship bunk, and I’ve never felt at home unless I was in something with a frameshift drive.”
She shifted position a little to look at me. “But staying there, I felt- I don’t know, like I was at home. Even though I wasn’t. Like it was the safest place in the world, and that as long as I was there, none of my problems mattered. So… I slept like a damn log.” She chuckled a little and looked down. “Crazy, huh?”
I smiled and brushed her black-purple hair back. “No, I know exactly what you mean. I used to feel the same way all the times I would come home on naval leave. Best sleep I ever got.”
Pulling her in for a kiss, I continued. “It’s the kind of home a parent is supposed to make for their children.”
Kyndi nodded, a sad look crossing here eyes. “I know, Matty. That’s what I had. Before, you know-“ She hesitated and looked down.
“I know, darling’.”
She looked back up, her eyes a little happier. “But that’s what I felt when I was there. Just… safe. Like I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.”
Sighing, she settled back down onto my chest. I pushed along the sides of her spine with my fingertips, causing happy little high-pitched hums to emanate from Kyndi’s throat. She did feel a lot less tense than normal. And it was all because my mother sent me a transmission to invite me over for Christmas. I looked down at Kyndi’s closed eyes. And what had Christmas done? Reunited a family separated by the vast expanse of humanity’s reach across the stars, and gave a spunky little smuggler chick a little peace of mind. I smiled.
Well, Dad, there’s your research paper. The reason that people celebrated Christmas: family, love, generosity, togetherness- all are alive and well in 3301. You don’t need Christmas to bring those things out in people, but damn if it doesn’t help.
That, and a little box of Onionhead.
