Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Miss Piggy, why do you look so upset?”

“It’s nothing Maureen, I was simply hoping that this would be a nice romantic getaway where Kermie and I would be able to share a nice romantic bedroom together. But here you and I are in a laundry room while he is off elsewhere, and I…”

“I understand. It’s a little heartbreaking, being away from your love, huh?"

"Oh, it is. It absolutely is."

"But you know what?"

"What?"

"Sharing an air mattress with you is like a dream come true for me.”

“Really?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die!”

“Well, I am a pretty good bedmate.”

“You are. Miss Piggy! You are!”

“Well then, I'm glad to be spending the night in such adoring company! Good night, Maureen.”

"Good night, Miss Piggy. And sweet dreams!"

"You too, Maureen. You too."

Chapter Text

It was nothing new for the Electric Mayhem to end up sleeping together.

They’d shared all manners of accommodation before. Beds, busses, cars, couches, church pews, snuggled under a large table in hopes that no-one would peek under the tablecloth… so really, having a whole room to themselves was pretty nice, even if that room was technically the hallway leading from the living room to the kitchen.

As a bonus, though, they were being joined by a weird… whatever, who seemed to like sleeping on hangers just as much as Animal did!

So all in all, this was going to be a rocking Christmas night spent all together!

Chapter Text

“So have you ever slept on a hanger before?”

“Every night! Every night!”

“You have huh? Neat! This is my first time, but it makes so much sense. The way it stretches you out… it’s just so relaxing, isn’t it?”

“Feel safe! Happy tired! Aaaaah!”

“You know, I completely agree. The only thing better would be sleeping with Camilla, but she’s with family, so I can’t begrudge her that.”

“Family! Family!”

“Anyway, which one do you want?”

“Hanger! Hanger!”

“Sounds good! You know, I’m so glad to be sleeping with a hanger aficionado. Maybe we can trade tomorrow night?”

“Trade! Trade!!!!”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll look forward to it.”

“Yaaah!!! Night night!”

Chapter Text

“Uncle Kermit?”

“Yes, Robin?”

“Do you know how Fraggles sleep?”

“You know, I can honestly say that I have no idea.”

“Do you think that maybe tomorrow, after we all exchange presents and sing carols and eat the Christmas dinner, we could go down there and ask them? We could even bring them some of the leftovers, so they could see what Christmas food is like! And maybe I can find a present to give Boober to thank him for the pebble he gave me!”

“You know, I think that would be a lovely idea.”

“Me too. Good night, Uncle Kermit.”

“Good night, Robin.”

Chapter Text

“Hey Bert?”

“Yeah, Ernie?”

“Are you sure you’re okay with me being in the top bunk, and you down below?”

“Yes, Ernie, I’m sure.”

“Because I could throw my hand over the side, just like this, and then you’d have a hand right beside you all night.”

“It’s fine, Ernie.”

“Or I could throw my foot over the side, just like this, and then you’d have a foot right beside you all night.”

“Really, Ernie…”

“And then the rest of me could follow, and you could watch me fall past you—”

“Please don’t, Ernie.”

“I won’t, Bert. That would hurt! You wouldn’t want your old buddy Ernie to be hurt, now, would you, Bert?”

“Of course not, Ernie!”

“Oh good. I was worried for a moment.”

“Are you okay up there, Ernie?”

“Yeah, Bert. It’s nice, being on top, I think. It means I’m that much closer to the moon, and the stars, and even have a better vantage point to hear if Santa lands on the rooftop!”

“Isn’t there a whole floor between us and the roof, Ernie?”

“Maybe, but you never know. We might be able to hear him anyway, if we listen really closely.”

“Maybe.”

“Do you think he might actually sound like the two-headed monster?”

“I doubt it, Ernie.”

“Me neither. But it would be fun if he did.”

“If you say so, Ernie.”

“Hey Bert?”

“Yeah, Ernie?”

“Know what’s so good about the bottom bunk, though?”

“What, Ernie?”

“You don’t have to climb down any stairs if you need to get anything. Like if you need to go to the bathroom. Or if you need to stretch your legs. Or if your good buddy Ernie gets thirsty and needs a glass of water.”

“You don’t say.”

“That reminds me, Bert. Could you get me a glass of water?”

“…somehow, I saw that coming.”

“Please, Bert? Ol’ buddy, ol’ pal?”

“Fine, Ernie, I will get you a glass of water.”

“Oh thank you, Bert.”

“You’re welcome, Ernie.”

“Oh and Bert?”

“Yeah, Ernie?”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Ernie.”

Chapter Text

Rizzo had been a little bummed about being kicked out of the kitchen. After all, he and his siblings and cousins had run a perfectly fine establishment in New York City of all places. Compared to a New York diner during evening rush, what was one measly Christmas Dinner? Even if said Christmas Dinner was for… well, he’d lost track of exactly how many people were there now. The house had been filling up even before the Sesame Street gang arrived, and now… well, he wouldn’t be surprised if the cow ended up joining the menagerie in this bedroom by the end of the night.

On the other hand, any night on which he could just put his feet up was a good night, and he had a feeling that most of his siblings and cousins felt the same way. So maybe letting the Swedish Chef take care of all the cooking wasn’t such a bad thing to have to do. A night off was a night off, after all, and he had to assume that the Swedish Chef earned the chef part of his moniker through a lot of hard work in the kitchen. So maybe they’d even pick up an idea or two to bring back with them, even if they’d probably have learned more by actually being in the room where it happened.

And hey, Camilla was there too, with her siblings and cousins, meaning that there would be plenty of gossip shared as the night wore on. Maybe he’d even catch wind of something that Gonzo didn’t know about, that he could hang over his head and tease about for a while. Boy, that would be fun.

So hey, maybe hanging out in the bedroom wasn’t so bad after all. Sure, it still wasn’t the kitchen, but the more he thought about it, the more he was sure it was the next best thing. And he even had a date in a trash can later on. Maybe it wouldn’t be as full-on crazy as being in the kitchen, but it sure was gonna be an interesting night.

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Oscar had never had a lot of interest in sharing his trash can before.

Sure, there was Slimey, but that was different. Pets weren’t guests—more like housemates and companions that you lived with and cared for despite anything that anyone else might say.

But a rat? Well, a rat just made sense.

Rats were fellow outcasts, after all. Grubby little trash-lovers who were often seen as bad guys, whether or not they really were. He wasn’t sure how many of them were as grouchy as a grouch—or if anyone ever could be, for that matter—but the image was right. The feeling was right. And the house was pretty short on bed space either way, so he could be helping in his own little grouchy way while seeing exactly what it was like to have a house guest in his trash can. A win-win, if ever there was one!

He wasn’t sure about having all the rats in his trash can—and there sure were a lot of them at this Christmas Eve party. But one rat, he could manage.

And hey! If he thought a whole infestation might be even nicer? He could always extend his invitation to even more of them on Christmas night.

Chapter Text

“Grrroff!”

“Yeah! Woof woof!”

“Arf rowf grrrrrarf rarf.”

“Uh-huh? Bark bark woof!”

“Groof woof woooooo!”

“Awoo to you too!”

Man, Rowlf had to admit, his Dog was rustier than it should’ve been. But that’s what he got for being friends with such a wide range of creatures, he supposed. There was nothing wrong with it, it just meant that it was extra special to spend time with someone more fluent in his heritage language than he was. It was nice practicing it, and would be nicer still spending a bit of time with a fellow canine for a change.

Sure, there was lots that he loved about everyone else, and in general, to be honest, he preferred the feeling in the Muppet Theatre to any sort of Kennel Club that he’d ever been invited to; performer or otherwise. But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy the chance to bond with someone new, or make a new friend, especially at this time that was supposed to be about family and kinship and all that good stuff.

And hey, there was only one kennel, after all, so they were going to be in close quarters one way or another. They might be going in acquaintances, but there was no doubt whatsoever in Rowlf’s mind that they’d be coming out as good friends.

Chapter Text

All that Doc had wanted was a nice, quiet Christmas in the country with his dog, Sprocket.

That was all. Not much to ask for.

No presents, no decorations, just Christmas songs on the radio and a nice cup of hot cocoa, and the simple Christmas dinner that he’d brought in a cooler.

Of course, that plan lasted for all of the time it took for him to get halfway up the stairs to the front door. Or maybe it hadn’t even lasted that long—after all, he’d never expected that the E. Bear that he was renting from was a real, bona fide bear.

But not two minutes later, Mrs. Bear’s son had arrived, along with that entire truck full of his weird and wacky friends. (He should have known that there would be trouble when a truck jammed full of strange creatures kept following him once they’d gotten off of the freeway.) And suddenly, Mrs. Bear was staying to have Christmas with everyone, and Doc was down a master suite. And then another wave of people arrived—apparently from television—and then came a pair of gentlemen who apparently were Mrs. Bear’s old friends, and a chef and a turkey, and Fraggles, and a snowman of all things, and then he’d been sent on a mission to rescue a pig, who was quite possibly in a long-term committed relationship with a frog! (He still hadn't worked out the exact details on that one; there seemed to be some conflicting reports.)

All in all, it was the exact opposite of the quiet Christmas that he’d imagined.

But what was more surprising than finding himself surrounded by all sorts of frogs and rats and chickens and things was the fact that he liked it.

He liked the ridiculousness of all of Emily Bear’s son’s friends.

He liked the childlike giant bird and the very worried and decently polite frog.

He liked the singing and the bustle and the way that everyone seemed intent on making merry even in the tight quarters.

So no, it wasn’t the nice, quiet Christmas that he’d bargained for.

And in fact, he wasn’t sure what exactly it was anymore.

But as he laid down on an air mattress back in the master suite (which had become the resident Seniors’ Room of sorts), he had to admit: whatever it was, it was even better than he ever could have imagined.