Sunglasses at Night by deltacephei (PG-13)

[unadrift.livejournal.com]

Title: Sunglasses at Night
Author: deltacephei
Rating: PG-13
Character(s): Allison-centric, plus everyone, really
Spoilers: Minor ones for 1-900-Lucky
Word Count: ~5400
Notes: This was written for girlie_girl_23 in the yuletide 2008 challenge. I never posted it anywhere else, although I can, which finally occurred to me now.

"You were smiling," Joe said. "That must have been quite the dream."
"Yes, it was. And no, you weren't in it," Allison grumbled and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

---

"Hey there."

Joe's voice was soft, filling the air all around and the blue sky above her, and it was warm, like the sun on her face. The wind billowed Allison's light summer dress around her knees, tousled her hair, brushed her uncovered skin, the purest sensation all over. Grass tickled the soles of her bare feet as she walked.

No, not grass--

"Joe," she mumbled, awake now, and jerked her foot away from his hands. "Don't do that. You know I hate it when you do that."

"You were smiling," Joe said, stopped the tickling and pulled back her blanket instead. "That must have been quite the dream."

"Yes, it was. And no, you weren't in it," Allison grumbled and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

For once, she would gladly have stayed there. She would gladly have gone back to sleep – dream and not be woken again for another couple of hours. It was a rare enough occasion that she actually felt annoyed at her state of wakefulness.

Careful not to snap at Joe – because in no way was it his fault that she had to get up in the morning, and that her dream timing just sucked – she wordlessly padded past him into the bathroom.

"Okay," Joe said, in a tone that was only a little bewildered. He'd had years of practice in the everyday dealings with a medium, after all. "I'm going to wake the girls."

By the time Allison was dressed, the annoyance had been washed away, gone down the drain along with the water in the shower. The content feeling, the peace and warmth from the dream, that stayed.

When Allison entered the kitchen, she smiled at her children, even though Bridgette and Ariel were fighting loudly over the last of the cornflakes while Marie emptied her glass of orange juice on the floor with a look of intense concentration on her face.

And Allison kissed Joe good morning, even though he had apparently forgotten to start the coffee machine. Then she got some towels to clean up the mess.

"A good morning to you, too," Joe said, surprised. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Ariel let go of the cornflakes package, which Bridgette immediately hugged to her chest. "Talk about what?" Ariel asked. "Is something wrong?"

Bridgette looked up at Allison, too. "Yes, Mom, is something wrong?" she echoed, which earned her an exasperated look from Ariel.

"No, everything is fine. Very fine, to be exact," Allison said. "I just had a very good dream last night. I was a little sorry that I had to wake up."

"But that happens to me all the time," Bridgette said. "And I never make a fuss about it."

"Yes, you do," Ariel reminded her. "Remember last week, when you talked about your great time with Winnie Pooh in Disneyland? At breakfast and all the way to school you went on about it."

"It was such a cool dream!"

"Not from where I was standing," Ariel said, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sure it was a wonderful dream," Joe cut in and ruffled Bridgette's hair as he walked by behind her.

"I'd like to meet Winnie Pooh in one of my dreams, too," Allison added. Bridgette seemed reassured and sent a 'See? Told you so' glare to her sister. Allison bit back a smile.

That day, Allison wasn't scheduled to go in to the district attorney's office or into court. She wasn't called in on short notice either and was not at all disappointed about it.

She drove the girls to school, and didn't drop Marie off at daycare but took her to the park instead, and watched her on the playground for almost two hours.

There weren't many people around, so the park was mostly quiet. Even though the sun wasn't shining, and there was no breeze in the air, the whole scenery matched the feeling in Allison's chest. It would have been a shame to taint this sense of peace and contentment with tangible proof of the gruesome facets of human nature.

Thankfully, there were no crime scenes, no bodies, and no murders for Allison that day. Instead they swung by the dry cleaner's and went to get some groceries before Allison took Marie home.

Next to the canned vegetables in the supermarket, a can of beans in hand, Allison caught a flash of bright yellow from the corner of her eye. It was probably just someone with a bad taste in shirts passing by in a hurry, but she was instantly thrown back into the dream, almost able to feel the sun on her face, right there underneath the neon lights.

Yellow. What was it about the color that triggered her memory? It left her vaguely uneasy, with that familiar feeling that she was missing something. Maybe she really had woken up too early that morning.

---

This time it was Allison who woke first. She laid still for a while, quietly smiling up at the ceiling.

The alarm clock went off, and Joe stirred next to her. He blinked his eyes open. "Oh, wow," he said, looking at her. "Two nights in a row?"

"Yep." Allison turned on her side to face him, grinning. "It's a new record."

"Are you gonna to tell me all about your beautiful dream today?"

"Sunflowers," she said, smile growing wider. "Grass under my feet, a clear blue sky, and sunflowers as far as the eye could see. It was wonderful. So peaceful."

"That sounds like something I'd enjoy," Joe said, blinking sleepily.

"I'd take you there if I could." Allison traced a finger down his cheek. "When did you get home yesterday?"

He sighed. "It must have been past midnight. When this project is done, I'm going to take at least two weeks of vacation time. Whether they want to give it to me or not."

Allison leaned over to give him a close-mouthed kiss and was met halfway. She pushed him back down into the pillow. "Sleep. Go in a little later. I've got everything covered."

"I suppose it would be okay if-- Just an hour--" and Joe was out like a light again. The fact that he hadn't protested at all said a lot about how beat he actually was.


* * *

With Joe off to work, the girls at daycare and at school, and again no appointments with the DA's office, Allison busied herself around the house in the morning. The thankless task of house cleaning had been on Allison's to-do list for a while, since she hadn't gotten around to washing drapes and cleaning windows lately. It had a certain meditative quality to it, a means to unfocus her mind, to preserve the surprisingly clear image of sunflower seeds between blades of grass, the sound of the wind rustling in an entire field of flowers.

Allison was almost sorry when Lee called to let her know that he would pick her up in half an hour.

"You're in a good mood," Lee observed, a couple of minutes into the drive. "I'm sorry I'm gonna ruin it."

"You can try," she said, watching the houses pass by outside, holding on to the warmth inside her.

Lee hadn't been kidding. Though it was worse for reasons he couldn't have known.

The contrast of the dark motel room against the almost-memory of a wide open sky, the smell of blood mixing with the not-quite-there smell of grass, it was almost enough to make her sick.

"Yeah," Lee said, taking in her expression. "Sorry."

"No," Allison said. "No, I've seen worse. I'm okay. Go ahead." It was true, she had seen worse. But she had never been less inclined to familiarize herself with a crime scene.

Lee looked doubtful, but got down to business. "Norene Kingston, thirty-two years old, worked at a local bookstore, died last night around three-thirty from a gunshot wound to the chest. My best guess would be a robbery gone wrong, if it weren't for the two hundred fifty bucks in her purse. It doesn't look like she was sexually assaulted either. She was fully dressed, no signs of--"

Lee walked Allison through the scene, through the evidence they had found – or, in fact, not found – so far, and through the information they had gathered on the victim, which wasn't much.

"Sorry," Allison finally said, staring at the outline on the dingy carpeted floor, where Norene had died. There was a pool of dried blood extending from the center of it. "I've got nothing. A whole lot of nothing."

As long as she didn't count the recurring image of sunflower fields.

"Hey, I've been working with you long enough to know that there's no forcing these things." Lee led her out of the room, down a flight of stairs. "But I gotta tell you, I've got this--" He gestured vaguely.

"Feeling? Hunch?" Allison supplied, and Lee made a face.

"Yeah, you could say that," he said. "A hunch that this one's gonna be hard to crack. There's nothing much to go on so far."

"I'll keep my ears and eyes open," Allison promised. She didn't mention her own hunch that she wasn't going to be of much use in this investigation.

"That's all I can ask," Lee said. "You want a ride home?"

---

On the third night of walking among sunflowers under blue skies, dream-wise, it was starting to irritate her.

Allison awoke with a frown on her face, still filled with all sorts of warm feelings, despite the irritation. She wasn't even fully awake before Joe started to kiss the frown away.

---

"I must be missing something," were Allison's first words after night number four, spent in bright imaginary sunlight.

Joe was frowning, too, this time. "This is really unsettling you."

"Yes," she said and wriggled closer to him to slide an arm around his waist. "I've had dry spells before, with no dreams at all. But this isn't anything like that. It's like someone misplaced the remote, and I'm forced to watch the same program every night. There are no changes. Not a single detail has changed so far."

It felt like someone had given her all the clues and now watched expectantly to see if she would be able figure it out. It was like she was being taunted. At least in daylight, it felt that way. When Allison was there, in the dream, all that just faded away. She didn't have a care in the world, she didn't need to think, didn't have to worry about anything, just needed to feel.

"But it's still nice," Joe said. "The program, I mean."

Allison breathed in deeply and closed her eyes for another moment. "Yes, it is."

"Good," Joe said. "Because it would be patently unfair for you to be tormented on your birthday."

"My birthday isn't until tomorrow. So there's plenty of time for me to get tormented some more," Allison said dryly and checked the alarm clock. "Joe, we're late! I'll go wake the girls, you get the shower first."

They really had to hurry, and they had to make the girls hurry up, too. Joe still found the time during breakfast to announce, "Your mom and I are going to go out for a birthday dinner tomorrow night."

Allison looked up from her bowl of cornflakes. "What, no surprising me this year? I'm hurt."

Joe shrugged. "I've learned that, with a mind reader, it's just no use. But I'm not telling you exactly where we're going for dinner. You can try and figure that out."

"Hey!" Allison said, pointing her spoon at him. "It's not like I've been trying. It just happens."

"So, I'll be watching my sisters tomorrow night?" Ariel concluded.

"You're reading my mind," Joe said. "That is exactly what you will do."

"Why can't I watch her?" Bridgette complained and shoved the plate with her half-finished toast away.

"Because it's mom's birthday and you'd just make a mess of everything," Ariel said. "Also, you're far too young to be in charge."

"I'm not! I'm just--"

"Bridgette," Allison interrupted and cut off Ariel's response with a look. "We've had this discussion before."

"Several times, actually," Joe added. "And you know how it always ends, don't you, Bridgette?"

"You tell me that I'm supposed to listen to what Ariel says," Bridgette muttered. "Because she's the oldest person in the house."

"Exactly," Allison said. "Will you do that for me tomorrow?"

Bridgette thought for a moment. "For you, because it's your birthday."

Ariel rolled her eyes. "You'd have to, anyway.

"Thank you, Bridgette," Allison said pointedly, before Bridgette could even think of being offended by her sister's comment.


* * *

Allison went into the DA's office that morning. A pile of files of possible jury candidates was waiting for review, and she found herself a quiet corner to work on them. After two hours, which she spent trying to alternately concentrate harder or deliberately relax and unfocus, she gave up and went to Devalos's office. She put the files down on his desk.

"You're done already?" Devalos said. "That was fast, even for you."

"I wish." Allison sighed and sat down in a visitor's chair. "I'm sorry. I can't be of much help at the moment. There's no--" She gestured. "It's just--"

"Not your day?" Devalos guessed.

"Try not my week." She smiled weakly.

Devalos sat back and studied her. "You look tired. Go home, Allison. The jury selections are still two weeks away. And also, we--"

"--managed to handle these things on your own before, when I wasn't around?" Allison finished.

"Exactly."

"I'm suddenly feeling underappreciated," she said jokingly.

"Oh, but that's all in your head," Devalos retorted, equally lightly.

Allison smiled back, but, wow, that statement rang true on so many levels.

Her cell phone chimed when Allison had just gotten in the car. It was the school secretary, calling to ask her to come see Bridgette's math teacher. Bridgette was fine, she was reassured, if Allison could just stop by that day when school was over, that would be appreciated.

Allison did and told the girls to wait for her in the car.

Mrs Ueberschaer looked exactly like she had the last time Allison had met her, at Ariel's Shakespeare school play a month ago, and the time before that, at Bridgette's teacher/parent meeting at the beginning of the grade. It made her wonder whether the teacher really only owned the one outfit she was wearing, or whether she saved it especially for school and school-related events. Mrs Ueberschaer stood to shake Allison's hand, then got right down to business.

"I'm afraid to have to tell you that this--," she handed Allison a sheet of paper, "--seems to be your daughter's idea of a joke."

The sheet was filled with Bridgette's handwriting, but instead of numbers and equations, there was only one word, written over and over again. Ruby. Ruby, Ruby, Ruby.

"She claims not to remember having written this. She says she must have fallen asleep." Mrs Ueberschaer glanced at Allison disapprovingly, as if she had seen proof that Allison regularly sent her children to work the night shift at McDonald's. "I asked Bridgette if she knows someone by that name, a boy perhaps. She denied."

"A boy named Ruby?" Allison asked, because-- just no. And anyway, Bridgette was still far too young for this kind of thing. Okay, so she was writing Valentine's cards already, but that was more a game for her than anything else.

"It is peculiar, the names parents come up with these days," Mrs Ueberschaer said stiffly.

Well, she wouldn't hear Allison arguing that fact, but Allison felt reluctant to agree out loud with the woman on anything.

"Bridgette has failed this test, obviously," Mrs Ueberschaer added.

Convincing her otherwise took some effort. It wasn't like Allison could explain that Bridgette had very probably received a message from the great beyond – whatever that message was supposed to mean. Also, Mrs Ueberschaer still seemed to have that chip on her shoulder from the time when Bridgette had accused her of smashing the window of Joe's car. Which had turned out to be true in the end, but apparently that fact didn't carry much weight with Mrs Ueberschaer.

Bridgette was allowed to repeat the test, after all, if Allison provided an attestation by a doctor as to why fatigue could have led to Bridgette falling asleep during a math test.

"I have to take the test again?" was Bridgette's whiny reaction.

"Would you rather get an F?" Allison said and started the car.

Even through the rearview mirror, Allison could see Bridgette consider announcing that she didn't care either way, as long as it didn't involve another math test.

Much to Allison's surprise, Ariel didn't comment on the incident at all. She was quiet for the entire drive. This was probably less Ariel cutting back on the sisterly quarreling, and more Ariel understanding at least vaguely what her sister had gone through during that math lesson.

Allison wished she fully understood.

'Ruby' obviously didn't mean anything to Bridgette, and it didn't mean anything to Allison either. But the more she thought about it, the more Allison was convinced that the message had been meant for her. It made sense. Because she was busy wandering sunflower fields in her dreams every damn night, someone else had to receive the message instead.


* * *

Joe had barely closed the front door behind him when he got home from work that night – early for once – when the phone rang.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Lee said when Allison picked up. "But I'd appreciate your help with something. Unfortunately, it can't wait until tomorrow."

"What is it?"

"The Kingston case. Woman shot in the chest?"

"I remember." A pool of dried blood spreading from the outline of a body had always been kind of hard to forget for Allison.

"We've got an eyewitness who saw a silver Toyota leave the motel parking lot at speed, and we've got a traffic camera shot from two blocks down of a car that fits the description. The time fits, the car fits, problem is, we haven't found a connection between the driver and the victim."

"No motive, no arrest?" she guessed.

"You've got it. We took the guy in for questioning, but it won't hold for long. He's one tough son of a bitch. He's not gonna talk."

"And you want me to sit in on the interview?"

"Or watch from the observation room, whatever works best for you."

"Give me half an hour," Allison said and mouthed 'Sorry' in Joe's direction.

"You want me to pick you up?" Lee offered.

"No," Allison said. "I'll drive in myself."

She said goodbye, hung up, and went to get her coat, just as Joe was hanging up his.

"You're not going to have to work tomorrow, are you?" Joe asked. He tried to keep the dismay from his voice, but wasn't entirely successful. After working overtime for two weeks straight, he wasn't exactly in a position to complain, and he was obviously aware of the fact.

"Tomorrow, I'm going to be all yours," she said, ignoring his undertone. "Or you're going to be all mine. That depends on how you look at it."

"Okay," he said. "I'm fine with that."

"Don't give the girls junk food," Allison said, kissed him, and went to say goodnight to her daughters.


* * *


When Lee stepped back into the observation room after the interrogation, Allison didn't turn around to face him immediately.

"So, did you get anything?" he asked after a moment.

Allison rubbed her temple and studied the man at the table on the other side of the window again. His whole demeanor seemed fueled by the belief in his own importance. His clothes, sunglasses, and watch were, if not actually expensive, made to look like they were. Even after hours at the station, he still displayed a cocky, self-assured attitude, broadcasting arrogance and an air of 'untouchable'.

Allison would really like to give Lee something.

"Sorry," she said, turning to meet Lee's eyes. "I can't tell you anything despite my personal observation that this man seems awfully at ease in an interrogation room. Even if he's innocent, he's surprisingly unconcerned."

"That's what irked me, too. That's why I called you in. I'm sure he's our guy."

"Another hunch?" Allison asked, raising her eyebrows. "I'd really like to give you more, Lee. But all I ever get these days are sunflowers." She sighed. She could almost smell them even now.

"Say again?" he said and leaned sideways against the wall, arms crossed.

Allison shook her head. "Forget it. It's just-- I haven't had a useful dream in almost a week."

"Instead you get sunflowers?" He sounded amused.

"Yes. Entire fields of them. And a clear blue sky, a light breeze, grass under my feet, and sunshine on my face. Every night. It's exactly the same every night."

"Sounds nice to me," Lee said and managed to make it sound like a question: How can it not be nice for you?

"For the first two nights, it was nice. Actually," she said, frowning, "it still is. When I'm dreaming. When I'm awake, not so much. After four nights, it's starting to drive me crazy. I think that I'm missing something. Something big."

"But you've got no idea what that might be?"

"No." Allison knew she sounded as frustrated as she felt.

There was a moment of silence during which they both stared at the man in the interrogation room, who kept drawing lazy circles on the table with his finger.

"Let's go look at some crime photos," Lee finally suggested.

"You sure know how to stage a nice distraction," Allison dead-panned.

"That's my special gift," Lee said, flashing her a quick smile.


* * *


"I'm getting really tired of saying this, but I've got nothing."

Allison went through the stack of photos again: Norene on the floor with her blood-soaked beige sweater and jeans, eyes open and lifeless. A close-up of the dried blood on the floor. The bullet hole in the wall. The blood spatter on the wall. Close-ups of Norene's body: hands, feet, head, face. Her personal effects, which had been photographed in the crime lab after they'd been taken from the body: scarf, watch, her jewelry in detail. Her jewelry--

Allison gripped the photo she had been studying tighter. It showed a gold ring in an extravagant design. A stone was embedded in the metal. "Is that a ruby?" she asked.

"Wait a second." Lee shuffled some papers on his desk until he found the one he was looking for. "Yes, it's a ruby. Gold ring with ruby. Why?"

"This is it," Allison said and shoved the picture at him. "Check this. It looks like the ring might be unique, a piece of art rather than off-the-rack jewelry. He bought it for her." Allison knew this with a certainty as if she had gotten the message, and not Bridgette. "Norene probably picked it out herself. The jeweler might be able to identify your suspect as the man who bought the ring for her."

"Or better yet, he might have a security camera," Lee said, scribbling in his notebook, then he started to hack commands into the keyboard. "Let's hope that she didn't get this thing years ago."

"She didn't," Allison said, sounding as certain as she felt.

Lee looked up from the computer screen. "Hey," he said. "You're back."

Allison smiled faintly. "Not quite."

If Lee hadn't already been developing a strategy in his head to follow this lead, he might have asked what she meant by that remark. As it was, he was otherwise occupied. Allison wished him a good night, got a distracted wave in return, and went home.


* * *


"This has got to stop," Allison said after she had closed the bedroom door behind her.

"What?" Joe asked from the bed, sounding confused. He lifted himself up on his elbows.

Oh. He had been asleep already.

"Sorry," Allison said, just standing there by the door, motionless. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright," Joe said, voice a little raspy. "If you tell me what's going on. Is this about the dream re-runs?"

"Yes. It's-- They're--" Allison shook her head. She started shedding her clothes and putting them away on autopilot. "It's hard to describe. The images, they never leave me. And not only the images. Smells and sounds, even the feeling of wind brushing my skin. It just doesn't go away completely."

Joe considered this. "At least it's not a nightmare. It's a good dream, right? You said it was peaceful."

"It is. Was. But it's blocking me. I get nothing else. It's like I've got my own personal supernatural firewall. And because my line is busy, my calls get re-directed," she said over her shoulder as she went into the bathroom.

"From a technical point of view the metaphor leaves something to be desired," Joe said, when Allison got into bed next to him five minutes later, still wound up and frustrated. "Also, what does that even mean?"

Allison told him about Bridgette's math test. His reaction wasn't quite what she had expected.

"The girls have had these kind of experiences before," Joe said. "As much as we might hate it, but Ariel and Bridgette have both seen awful things in their dreams. This is almost nothing compared to that."

"But if this-- this thing keeps going, if Bridgette or Ariel are forced to dream my dreams, the images will only get worse," she said, sitting up on the bed, staring down at him. "You know the kinds of dreams I get. You know the girls wouldn't be able to deal with them. I have to solve this, I have to understand the message that those sunflower fields are trying to tell me, and then this will stop."

Joe put a soothing hand on her forearm and stroked his thumb over her skin, looking at her thoughtfully. "Did you ever stop to consider that there might be nothing here to understand?"

"What? What do you mean?" He couldn't be serious. Allison could tell ordinary dreams from the special ones. She'd had years and years of practice.

"What if this is someone's idea of giving you some time off from your supernatural job?" Joe said. "Free dream time in a place where you can relax and enjoy yourself without worrying about things like blood, violence, murderers, or whatever else you're usually bombarded with? You said it yourself, the dream never changed, nothing really happened, you just had to be."

Allison let herself be pulled down next to him. Joe put an arm around her.

"No," she said. "I didn't consider that."

Viewed from a the-glass-is-half-full angle, the theory made a surprising amount of sense.

Allison fell asleep with her head on Joe's shoulder, feeling vaguely hopeful.

---

"Happy birthday," Joe whispered into her ear. "Go to sleep again."

And Allison walked on over the green grass, smiling to herself, hands brushing the soft fabric of her dress, her entire field of vision an ocean of yellow.


* * *


"We have to make a stop at the ATM," Joe said, ten minutes into the drive to their secret dinner location. He slowed down at the roadside next to the bank.

"Oh, that's smooth," Allison teased him. "Do all your dates start with you running errands?"

"Just the very special ones," Joe retorted and climbed out of the car.

Allison seized the opportunity to admire the view. Joe was wearing his dark brown suit and the tie she had bought him last Christmas. He looked great.

"We did tell the girls to lock up behind us, right?" Allison asked when Joe got back into the car.

"Yes, we did. We also told them to go to bed at nine, not to play with the microwave, and to leave the thermostat alone. Stop worrying," he said and started the car.

It didn't take Allison long to figure out where they were going. She bit down on her tongue, so she wouldn't burst out with, 'But we eat out at La Casa with your colleagues every few weeks!'

Well, this was surprisingly uncreative on Joe's part. Allison told herself that she wasn't disappointed. She tried hard not to let the disappointment she didn't feel show on her face.

But in the end, the waiter didn't show them to a secluded table like Allison had expected. They were led through the warmly lit restaurant, past the occupied tables, and down a short corridor in the back.

The first person Allison could see through the half open door at the end of the corridor was Lynn DiNovi. Allison barely had time to recognize the man she was talking to as one of Joe's colleagues, because suddenly she was standing in a room full of people shouting "Surprise!"

It actually was. It really, really was.

Allison was shocked to the point of speechlessness. She hadn't seen this coming. She was used to always seeing this coming.

It was a little overwhelming. Her eyes were prickling as she took in the familiar faces around her. There were her girls, Ariel and Bridgette both grinning. Marie was on Ariel's arm. There were Manuel Devalos and his wife, Lee and Lynn, even Allison's mother-in-law who, in a rather disturbing move, winked at her.

But Allison didn't actually start crying until she spotted Michael, giving her the thumbs-up sign, with a stupid grin on his face. She couldn't have kept herself from flying into his arms if she'd tried.

"Mikey! What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like? Celebrating your birthday, sis. It's good to see you," he said into her hair, squeezing her tight. She squeezed right back before letting go.

"You!" Allison said accusingly, pointing at Joe. He was looking decidedly pleased with himself.

She walked closer until her finger poked him in the chest. "You surprised me! You really surprised me!"

"Good," Joe said. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. "Happy birthday, Al."

"Mom," Bridgette yelled. She ran over and attached herself to Allison's waist. "Did you see the banner? I made it myself!"

"Bridgette," Joe said in a warning tone.

"Okay," Bridgette amended. "Ariel helped. But only with the words."

In a rare occurence, Ariel just smiled indulgently at her sister. She hugged Allison one-armed. Allison took the opportunity to press a quick kiss to Marie's forehead.

The banner was on the wall opposite to the door, above the food table. It read 'Happy Birthday, Mom'. The 'r' had been squeezed in after the fact.

On either side of the words Bridgette had painted-- sunflowers. Big, yellow sunflowers.

Allison just stared for a long moment, then she let out a laugh – open, relieved, and just as joyful as she felt.

"It's beautiful. It's so beautiful," she said, laughing, and crying, and hugged the girls again. "Thank you both."

"Just wait until you've seen your new ashtray," Bridgette said, voice muffled by Allison's blouse.

"You're not supposed to tell her what she's going to get for her birthday," Ariel chided, rolling her eyes.

"You know what?" Allison said. "I've already got everything I want."


* * *


"I think I might have had some help keeping your secret birthday party a secret," Joe said, later that night, lying in bed next to Allison.

She snuggled closer to him. "I think you're right."

"Because I didn't tell the girls about the sunflowers," Joe said. "Bridgette said they were Ariel's idea."

Allison froze. "Ariel?"

As these things almost always went, Allison didn't manage to connect all the dots until after everything was over. She shouldn't be annoyed, or even surprised, about that fact anymore.

Ariel had always liked sunflowers. Ariel had also possessed a summer dress once that had been very much like the one in Allison's dreams. Ariel had loved that dress to pieces, almost literally, until it was too threadbare to wear anymore, not to mention that Ariel had grown out of it.

"Yes, Ariel," Joe confirmed. "Why? Is there something wrong?"

"No," Allison said and pulled her arm tighter around his waist. "Everything's fine. Better than fine."

And it was.


- end -

Comments

[weber_dubois22]

Wow, this was a really lovely story. You got the characters and their mannerisms down to a Capital "T".

[unadrift.livejournal.com]

A little belatedly: Thank you! This was my first big project in a new fandom (I used to be all SGA), and it was my first yuletide, too. So this means a lot!