Little Boy Found

by Merry Amelie

Title: Little Boy Found
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Angst, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: PG
Summary: One party is better than two.
Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 91

I'm posting Arcadia and Q/O drabbles to TPM 100: http://community.livejournal.com/tpm100/

A chronological list of the series with the URLs can be found under the header 'Academic Arcadia' at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/master-apprentice/files/

My MA story page: http://www.masterapprentice.org/cgi-bin/qs.cgi?keyword=Merry+Amelie

Feedback: Is treasured at MerryAmelie@aol.com
Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.

For
My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol
Mali Wane for posting
My former betas: Alex and Ula

Quinn couldn't drink one more cup of eggnog. The party noise around him was shrill and cacophonous to his ears. This was the first Christmas Eve he'd spent without his parents, yet they haunted the party.

45 days now without a call from them. This was even harder than Thanksgiving, with happy memories of toys and treats to taunt him now.

Despite his melancholy, he brought his best diplomatic smile to the table for Ian and the others, and could only hope it was accepted at face value. He wanted his adoptive family to have a merry Christmas.

John couldn't drink one more cup of eggnog. The party noise around him was shrill and cacophonous to his ears. This was the first Christmas Eve he'd spent without Quinn, yet he haunted the party.

He was glad they were at Sean and Maureen's; he couldn't bear a Christmas Eve at home without Quinn there.

Last year, Quinn had sung The Little Drummer Boy with him off-key, while Ginny played the piano. Quinn had brought over his mocha rum coffee in a Thermos, and they'd shared it all night. He hadn't left until 10, grabbing Ginny and him in a bear hug worthy of Santa Claus himself.

He wouldn't be hugged like that this year. He hadn't called his son in 45 days. Quinn had tried to restore diplomatic relations since November, but outrage and a lingering sense of disgust had kept him from responding.

Now he wished he had. He loved Quinn as much as ever, yet his stubbornness left him sitting here without his boy. Instead, Sean was in the seat beside him, with his off-color jokes and plaid trousers.

Looking over at Ginny, he saw that she was a million miles away, or perhaps only 50, at Alder Run. He didn't even know whether Quinn was there or in Padua.

Taking out his cell phone, he called Quinn before he had a chance to think better of it. No answer. They must be in Padua, then. Celebrating with his new family, John sneered. He was still furious that Quinn had confided in the Prentices, and not his own parents.

One awkward call from Jo had told him all he needed to know -- she'd talked obliquely about forgiveness and holiday spirit, and all he'd felt was jealousy at her closeness to her son and his own.

How could she and Keith take their place so easily? A voice he didn't want to hear answered, "They didn't take it -- we gave it away."

He sat impatiently through the carols, closing his eyes when Sean and his son sang The Little Drummer Boy. He had the phone out again before the second chorus. Ian. He hung up quickly, no words coming to his rescue.

They were at home after all. Somehow, the fact that he could reach his son now decided him. Catching Ginny's eye, he rose with her and they said their goodbyes to the family.

When they got to the car, Ginny said, "We're not going home, are we?"

"How do you feel about Alder Run instead?" He had never seen such a look of relief on her face, even after 16 hours of labor.

"Let's go," she said, with more enthusiasm than he'd heard in months.

The streets were almost empty at this hour on Christmas Eve.

"I've missed him," Ginny said, leaning back in her seat contentedly.

"Me, too."

She patted his thigh as if she could tell how hard it was for him to admit that.

As he rang the doorbell, he couldn't resist looking through the window that had shown him a picture he'd never wanted to see. This one was no better in its way. Quinn and Ian were on the couch, flanked by Jo and Keith. A young couple with a little girl sat on the floor, playing with newly opened toys.

A stranger couldn't have told which were the Prentices' sons by body language. He could, though, and willed Quinn to come to the door.

Ian did instead, with the biggest grin he'd ever seen. Until Quinn's eclipsed it. "Dad! Mom!" He was dimly aware of Ian shooing his family into the kitchen, but all he felt was Quinn's arms hugging him as if he'd never let him go. A look of wonder and joy was in Quinn's eyes that he'd drive through the night to see.

"Son."