A Home For The Holidays

A Home for the Holidays

By: DKM and prplerayne

Synopsis: Van and Billie end up spending the holiday season together and surprisingly don’t end up killing each other either.

Rating: nc-17

Authors’ Note: A little bit of Christmas cheer for y’all.

Disclaimer: You know the drill, don’t own, don’t get pissed, just having some fun here, wishing this show had a second season. Lyrics belong to Natalie MacMaster and Allison Krause.

*~*~*

“Merry Christmas everybody!” Deaq proclaimed as he walked into the Candy Store that Christmas Eve morning, holding gifts in his arms.

Billie looked up from her desk, unable to stop the grin that crawled across her lips. Even though she hated the holiday season, his mood was infectious. There were very few occasions where she ever became excited over something. One was her birthday while the other was Christmas, and only because she got presents. Billie didn’t have many good holiday memories. Something always seemed to overshadow the holiday spirit, be it a fight or a disagreement or something much worse… She decided not to dwell on the bad things that happened almost every Christmas. This year felt like it might be different.

Van, on the other hand, scowled at his partner. He hated the holiday season with a passion, and there was nothing anyone could do or say to make him happy today. Christmas to him always meant the family getting together and fighting because his father was either in prison or his mother was screwing someone new. It had never been a happy time for him. He couldn’t remember a single Christmas where there wasn’t a fight involved between his parents. Ever since then, he hadn’t been able to spend Christmas with anyone, fearing it would only equate to a fight.

“What’s the matter, partner? It’s Christmas! You know, peace on earth, good will to me, tidings of comfort and joy,” Deaq happily boasted.

“Shut the hell up,” Van grumbled, getting in a defensive position as he crossed his arms over his chest when his partner walked past him. He was sitting on the red couch in the lounge, his pissy mood keeping the other two from getting close. It was never a good thing when Van was in a pissy mood. He tended to be a total jackass when it came to even the slightest comment.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re a scrooge!” Deaq exclaimed as he plopped down on the other side of the couch. “Just like the movie says, Van, it’s a wonderful life!” he added, provoking Van into flipping him the bird.

“Fuck you,” Van snapped back, getting up and making his way towards Billie’s office. When he saw the smile on her face, he asked, “What the hell are you so happy about?”

Billie shrugged and innocently replied, “Nothing.” Yeah, right. She found his exchange with Deaq amusing.

“I don’t like Christmas. There I said it! I’m a scrooge, so sue me,” Van spat out, getting fed up with their good moods and smiling faces. It sickened him that they could be so happy right now while he felt miserable.

“What do you mean you don’t like Christmas? All children like Christmas,” Billie observed, trying to lighten his mood. But it didn’t seem to work. Van just shot her a death look and kept walking towards the bathroom.

“And all children like presents,” Deaq chimed in as he stood back up and waltzed up to Billie’s desk handing her a small box wrapped in sparkly red wrapping paper with a silver bow on top.

“Aw! Thank you, Deaq,” she replied, setting it on her desk as she turned towards Van’s retreating form and added, “At least someone appreciates me around here!”

Van stopped for a moment, biting back the harsh comment he was getting ready to throw back at her and kept walking. He didn’t want to be anywhere near them at the moment. He would rather sulk alone in his apartment than be here with those two shiny happy people. Van visibly shuddered at the thought. He entered the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Billie shrugged off Van’s response and began to pick at the nicely wrapped present. “Did you wrap this?” she asked, looking up at Deaq.

“Of course!” he replied, crossing his fingers behind his back. He wasn’t about to tell her he’d had his mom do it for him. That wouldn’t look to good on his part. Besides, it would only add more ammo to Billie’s already full bag of insults.

Deaq watched as she carefully unwrapped the gift, keeping the pretty paper and bow in tact until it dropped out of her hand when she revealed what the gift was. “Oh, my God!” she shrieked. “An iPod!”

Van came out of the bathroom a minute or so after the shriek. He couldn’t help himself. He had to see what it was. “Maybe a dead rat,” he mused as he approached her desk.

Before he even got to say anything Billie jumped up. “Look what Deaq got me, an iPod!” she said excitedly.

“Whoop-dee-fuckin-doo,” was all he said as he headed back to the couch, where he plopped himself back down and crossed his arms over his chest. He really wasn’t in the mood.

“All work and no Christmas spirit makes Van a pissy boy,” Deaq turned to Billie and said loud enough for him to hear. They watched as Van flipped him the bird again. But Deaq didn’t take it to heart. He had one more trick up his sleeve to hopefully get Van out of his funky mood. “I guess I’ll just have to return his present if he’s gonna keep acting like an infant.”

Van’s head shot up when Deaq mentioned the words “return his gift.” He hadn’t been counting on that. He thought he could have gotten away with the pissy mood and a gift, but apparently Deaq didn’t see it that way. It was time to give it up and let bygones be bygones. Who knows, maybe this Christmas it would be different. “No, you don’t have to return my gift,” Van finally said as he stood up once more and marched back to Billie’s office to receive his present. “I’ll be good. I won’t be scrooge anymore.”

Deaq turned to Billie with a big smile on his face. “See, ‘tis the season! Give the boy a present and he’s happy again!” he observed as Van walked up to them and sat down in one of the comfortable black chairs in front of the desk. Deaq was about to give him the medium sized box wrapped in blue and red, but pulled it back as Van reached out to grab it. “Not until you promise me you’ll stay in a good mood, at least until I leave.”

Van rolled his eyes, but replied, “I promise I won’t turn back into Scrooge until you leave.” Deaq finally give him the present, which, unlike Billie, he ripped open to reveal the new X-Box 360. Suddenly, his eyes lit up like a child locked in a toy store. “X-Box 360! Cool!” Van excitedly said.

“Sure, that’s what the box says, but is that what’s actually in the box?” Billie teased.

Van just scowled at her for a moment, then deciding that she had a point, opened the box, but with more care than he’d used removing the wrapping. “Oh, my God; it actually is! This is the best present ever! Thank you! Thank you!! Thank you!!!” he blubbered excitedly as he bounced around the office like a ping pong ball. He tried to throw his arms around Deaq for a hug, but his partner quickly backed away.

“Whoa, Sparky, contain your excitement, please,” he said, giving Van a weirded out look.

Hearing Deaq call him “Sparky” made Billie snicker. “That’s great! Fantastic!” she giggled.

“How do you figure that?” Van asked skeptically as he glared at her, his grey green eyes sparkling.

“Because ‘Sparky’ is a name they usually give a little hyper dog, and you are the most ADHD adult I’ve ever met,” she lightheartedly explained. “Not to mention you are certainly a dog, too; a horn dog,” Billie mentioned as almost an after thought.

“Oh, really?” Van asked as he quickly moved towards her and threw his arms around her neck in the hug Deaq sidestepped. He then proceeded to place a sloppy puppy-like kiss on her cheek.

“Oh, yuck!” Billie shrieked as Deaq burst out in fits of laughter. She pushed Van off her body with all her might, throwing him back as she wiped her cheek with her shirt sleeve. She couldn’t believe he had done such a disgusting thing. It almost made her sick. “You do that again and I’ll make sure you can never reproduce,” she warned as he snickered at her the way she’d snickered at him.

“Calm down, you two,” Deaq chimed in before punches were thrown. He looked down at his watch and realized he was running late. “I’d love to stay here and be referee, but I have a plane to catch,” he said before making his way out of Billie’s office and towards the door.

“What? Where are you going?” Van asked, not having known about this little development.

“Spending the holidays with the family in New York until after New Years,” Deaq happily answered as he turned towards them and smiled. “Something maybe you two should do.”

Van rolled his eyes as Billie looked away. He caught the frown that quickly appeared and disappeared from her face. There was something about Christmas and families that Billie wasn’t too happy about. He began to wonder what it was and decided to ask her about it later.

“Don’t go killing each other while I’m gone,” Deaq called over his shoulder as the door shut behind him.

“Great, I’m stuck here with you for a week,” Billie grumbled. It was her turn to get pissy after Deaq mentioned spending time with family.

Van stared at her for a moment realized they had just switched moods somehow. “Well, Scrooge, maybe we should do what the man says,” Van suggested.

“Who are you calling ‘Scrooge?’ Last I remember, you were the one in the bad mood,” Billie shot back, trying to regain her gleeful manor. It wasn’t working, though. To her, the words “Christmas” and “family” didn’t go together so well. It was a painful reminder of things that had happened in the past she tried to avoid talking about.

“Hey, if the show fits,” Van shrugged as he grinned widely at her.

“Hey, I’m not a scrooge, you are! I just happen to hate the whole idea of Christmas, that’s all,” she shot back, trying to justify herself.

“Same difference,” Van replied. He sat down at one of the chairs in front of her desk and watched her as she began to fiddle with the papers surrounding her computer.

“What do you want, Van?” Billie asked, sounding tired and defeated. “Do you want me to tell you all about my crappy childhood and make you feel better about your own?”

“Maybe,” he actually sounded serious. “What could be worse than finding your mother screwing another man in your bedroom on Christmas Eve?”

“Plenty,” she said under her breath even though he’d heard her.

“Really, you wanna bet on that? Because I bet my story is ten times worse than yours,” Van declared.

“Oh, you think so?” she sounded intrigued. From what she’d told him so far, he did have a good reason to hate Christmas, but not as good as hers.

“No, I know so,” came his cocky reply. Van looked almost determined as he stared at her with those intense grey green eyes.

“You wanna prove it?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

He took the bait. “Fine, I will,” he answered. “Dinner, tonight, my place, seven, don’t be late. I’ll prove to you that my Christmas’s suck way more than yours.”

“Hey, you wanna specify terms first before I even agree to this?” Billie pointed out as she folded her arms across her chest and stared back at him with the same intensity in her own sparkling blue eyes.

“Okay,” Van said, immediately coming up with the perfect idea. “How about the loser gets to be the other’s bitch for a week? Bitch meaning slave, lackey, doing whatever the other wants, so long as it’s not sexual, being at the others disposal for anything, related to work or personal; you know, what you do to me right now, just in a more prolific way. And this isn’t just a one hour a day thing, but the whole week, 24/7.” He was so sure of himself that he was willing to be anything at the moment.

A wide smile came across Billie’s face as she extended her hand and answered, “Deal.”

Van took it, giving her another cocky grin as he also replied, “Deal.”

‘Let the games begin,’ she thought, unable to wipe the smug smile off her face. Van was going down, and she was already plotting what he’d be doing for her for the next week. He stood up and started to make his way out of the office, Deaq’s gift under his arm.

“See you tonight,” Van called as he exited the Candy Store, realizing he had a lot of work to do before Billie came over that night. He still needed to buy and prepare the food and get the place in somewhat better shape than it was in. Not too happy about having to go food shopping on Christmas Eve, Van dragged himself to the grocery store anyway. It was jam packed, just as he’d expected, with last minute shoppers much like himself.

As he browsed through the aisles, Van realized how much he hated this place. The grocery store just wasn’t his turf. He was more suited to the mini-mart, buying Twinkies, chips, and beer, not real food. This place was making him feel awfully nervous with so many people around and the potential for chaos to erupt at any moment. He began to walk faster, grabbing whatever the small basket he held could fit, which was a lot he realized. He picked up some mixed vegetables, a box of mashed potato mix, a tube of sweet rolls, and a bottle of eggnog.

When it came to the ham, though, it was a different story. The meat aisle looked like a disaster area. There were so many people crowded around it that he could barely see any of the food displayed. But somehow managing to get to the throng of people, he spotted a small ham sitting at the end of the display. Van had his hand on it when another, smaller hand started to make a grab for it as well. He tightened his grip on the piece of meat before looking up to see it was a young woman in her teens. She wore all black and had a painted white face. Van wanted to laugh, remembering his own high school days and the “Goths” he had dealt with. She shot him a glare, her every intention to take the ham as her own. But there was no way he’d let that happen.

“It’s mine,” Van growled, having no intention of letting it go.

“It’s mine!” she practically shrieked, pulling on it.

“Oh, hell no!” Van shouted back, pulling it in his direction.

It soon became a tug of war between the teenager and the cop, both glaring at each other as they pulled the ham in either direction, waiting to see who’d let go first. Van wished he’d brought his badge with him. That would have given him some leverage. But no, it was locked in the Candy Store vault. They continued to struggle until Van finally put in the extra effort and pulled it away from the girl.

“HA!” he shouted in her face, making a run for it before she could even realize what had happened.

“Merry fucking Christmas!” Van heard the girl yell behind him as he found his way to the alcohol aisle. He grabbed several bottles of wine, his food shopping for the day finally done and over with. All he had to do now was wait in the massive checkout line and go home to prepare the food.

It would take him two hours to get through the line and back to his one bedroom Manhattan Beach apartment. It wasn’t so bad, considering he’d fixed up the place considerably. When he’d first moved in after leaving the hotel, the place was a total mess; none of the faucets worked, there was no warm water, floors were dirty, and the walls had several cracks in them. After several months of putting weekends into cleaning, fixing, and painting, it finally resembled a nice apartment. It now needed a bed instead of the mattress he slept on, a dresser, and some drapes. He’d already found a nice couch for the living room, a TV, a DVD player, a stereo, a small table and chairs for the dining room, and a few pots, pans, plates, silverware, and glasses for the kitchen.

What Van loved most about his new place was the view. He was right on the beach, his second home. Ever morning when he woke up, it was the first thing he heard and saw. Not having to drive all the way out here was another plus. He could also go surfing any time he wanted. That always put a smile on his face. Even now, as he carried the groceries into the apartment, he could hear the waves rolling onto the beach and smell the crisp scent of the ocean.

Van placed the groceries on the kitchen counter and began to take them out. A glance at the clock was a slap to the face when he realized it was nearing 5:30. He still needed to cook the food and put up decorations, which he’d dug out of storage for the first time in nearly three years. The box was already sitting on the floor in the living room, branches from a small plastic tree sticking out of its holes.

His dilemma was what to do first; the decorations or the food? Van decided that the decorations were a likely place to start so he opened the box and unpackaged the plastic tree. With that done, he stood back and looked at the many green pieces to be put together. “Okay, maybe I should start the food first,” he said to himself as he scratched his head and walked towards the kitchen.

Van began taking the groceries out of the bag. The first thing he did was set the wine in the fridge to cool he took out the pots and pans that needed to cook the meal. After a moment, he was ready to begin. ‘The ham first,’ he thought as he picked it up. He looked at the strange object and said to himself, “Okay, so how do I do this?” Van decided to start by taking it out of the wrapping. He remembered that his grandmother had always put the oven on 300 degrees. After that, he was clueless, so he just decided to rely on his nose to tell him when it was done.

“Well, that’s gonna take awhile, so maybe I should do the decorations,” Van said closing the oven door. He walked back into the living room and looked at the pile of green on the floor. He’d leave the tree for last since everything else seemed less confusing. The mistletoe was his first task, hanging one sprig in the doorway so that when Billie walked in, he’d greet her with a kiss, a thought he’d been pondering for a while now. Next, he moved on to the garland. He was surprised at how well it had held up, it being nearly ten years old. Taking up the green length with its holly berries and small robin figures, he wrapped it around the banister that separated the living room from the dining room then stood back to look at it. Pleased with his work, he found another sprig of holly and attached it to the chandelier above the table with a red ribbon. Van had to hand it to his grandmother; she had taste in all things holiday.

Walking back into the kitchen, he grabbed the vegetables, meticulously washing, peeling, and chopping each carrot, pearl onion, snow pea, and winter squash. This was the most time Van had ever spent on preparing a meal, but there was a good reason. He didn’t want Billie to suffer any more than she already had. He’d heard stories about her trouble past and wanted to make this Christmas somewhat special for her. He didn’t realize that he was also trying to steel himself for the memories he’d be revealing as well.

With the vegetables slowly cooking in the pan on the stove, Van turned his attention to the box of mashed potato mix he’d picked up. After reading the directions on the box, he knew this would be a cinch. Besides, it was hard to screw up mashed potatoes that came from a box. Van followed everything down to the tee, and soon, the potatoes were done. He plated them into a large white dish and set them aside as the vegetables began crisp up. The smell coming from the kitchen stove was delicious. He grabbed another dish from the cabinet above his head and spooned the vegetables into it, also setting them aside.

That done, he looked at the pieces of green tree in the living room and decided to save that for last, and get dressed instead. Billie would be there in an hour anyway; freshening up seemed logical. He went in the bedroom and rummaged through his closet, looking for the perfect outfit to wear that night. ‘I don’t know how women do it. I have all the clothes here I’ll ever need,’ he thought to himself as he pulled out a pair of stone washed blue jeans and a red corduroy shirt with subtle forest green plaid stripes. He hopped in the shower and washed off the grocery store smell. Within 15 minutes, he was showered, shaven, dressed and ready.

Van walked back into the living room, the tree still in pieces on the floor in front of the window where he’d left it. Just the thought of trying to put that thing together scared him. He didn’t even know what most of the pieces were, let alone where they went. After having stood there for nearly 15 minutes trying to figure it out, Van finally lost patience and walked back into the kitchen, the smell tickling his nose with anticipation.

The aroma of the food was incredible. Soon, dinner would be done, and with Billie slated to arrive in less than half an hour, he had plenty of time to check off the last of his food to do list; the rolls. Taking them out of the fridge, he also grabbed a pan. He took them out of the package and began to place them on it. Beginning to read the instructions on the package, it said 325 degrees for 12-15 minutes, unless at elevations over 5,000 feet. ‘Okay, well, what the hell elevation am I at?’ he thought to himself. Van had no clue how to tell, short of calling Billie and asking her. The woman was a walking atlas after all, or so it seemed. He wanted to impress her, of that he was sure, and calling her would only spoil it. Deciding that he must be over the 5,000 foot elevation, he put the rolls in at 350 degrees for an extra ten minutes.

Van felt like he was on top of the world when it came to the food, it was the tree that continued to be the thorn in his side. Before heading back to the living room and dealing with it, he grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and popped the cork. He didn’t care that he was getting the party started early. The tree was giving him a serious headache. Pouring himself a large glass of the Chable he’d picked up, Van returned to staring at all the green on the living room floor. He stayed there for a while, almost loosing track of time as he drank the wine.

It was the sound of the doorbell ringing that brought Van back to his senses. He nearly jumped when a knock followed, but quickly recovered as he walked towards the door, his guest of honor having finally arrived. Van opened it slowly, bracing himself for what was to come. “Right on time,” he said with a smile, seeing Billie standing there holding a small tin in her hands.

“Did you expect anything different from me?” she joked.

His eyes scanned her body as he replied, “Um, you look nice,” suddenly feeling nervous. She had on a white Kate Spade suite with a three button jacket and white leather boots that zipped up the side. To accentuate her outfit, Billie wore a simple silver chain necklace with an angel pendant and matching silver angel earrings.

“Thanks. You certainly look festive,” she said with a small laugh. Her eyes ran the length of his body, admiring how well his clothes fit. After having stood there for several long moments, she finally asked, “Are you gonna invite me in or did you just have me come over to hang out in the hallway?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot my manners. Please, come in,” Van said as he stepped aside for her to enter.

Walking into the apartment, Billie noticed the sparse decorations. “Aw, you decorated, how sweet,” she said with a smiled.

Van gazed around the apartment at what he’d done so far. “Yeah, sorry about the tree, though. I haven’t done one of those in a long time,” he answered, gesturing to the pile of green by the window.

“That’s okay. I have one. I’ll help you with it, if you like,” she offered.

“Yeah, that would be great,” Van replied. He suddenly remembered the mistletoe, realizing she was right under it, and added, “Uh, Billie?” looking up.

“What?” she asked, following his gaze. When she saw what he was looking at, she giggled. “You really went all out, didn’t you?”

“Yep, and you know what mistletoe means,” Van answered as he placed a quick peck on her cheek.

Billie blushed slightly as Van took her hand and led her into the living room. “Nice place,” she commented, glancing around the small apartment. It was half the size of hers, but she figured that guys really didn’t need all that much space anyway. They didn’t have as many clothes, or shoes for that matter.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” Van asked as he started to make his way back into the kitchen. His nose had picked up a funny scent coming from that end of the apartment, and he knew he needed to check on the food before it turned into a disaster.

“Yeah, I’d love one,” Billie called as she around in the direction he’d just gone. Her nose had also picked up the strange scent, and she knew almost immediately that something was burning in the kitchen. Billie shook her head before smiling. ‘Men,’ she thought.

Making her way to the kitchen, she stood at the entrance as Van pulled the oven door open with a bang, puffs of smoke coming from the inside. There was a look of frustration on his face as he swore under his breath. Billie resisted the urge to laugh. This was definitely turning into a better Christmas Eve than she expected. Van might have been frustrated, but he just looked so damn cute trying to rectify the situation as he grabbed an oven mitt and quickly took out the pan of burnt rolls. More swearing ensued as he threw them on the counter beside the sink. “Great, just fucking great,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” Billie said with a smiled as she walked up to him, placing the tin on the counter beside her. Van nearly jumped when he heard her voice behind his back and realized that she’d seen pretty much the whole thing. The most pathetic look of defeat came across his face as he turned away from her. “Hey, I said don’t worry,” Billie repeated, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You tried, and that’s all that really matters.”

Van turned around, plastering a fake smile on his face for her sake. He wasn’t about to tell her how stupid he felt. The fake smile quickly turned into a genuine one as he gazed into her sapphire blue eyes. They were full of warmth and understanding, something he hadn’t really seen before. “Well, I guess we can just scrape the burnt parts off,” he suggested.

Billie giggled, the sound of her laughter filling the apartment. Unable to help himself, Van joined in, not feeling as dumb as he had before. Their laughter echoed off the walls as they stood there at the counter, slowly quieting down as they stared at each other for a few moments, their eyes meeting in an intense gaze. They both looked away, feeling the awkwardness. “How about some wine?” Billie asked, remembering why Van had come into the kitchen in the first place.

He grabbed the wine out of the fridge along with a glass from the counter and poured her some, topping off his own glass just a little. “A toast,” Van started, “to the miracle of a happy Christmas.”

“To Christmas,” Billie replied with a very obvious fake smile as she tapped her glass to his.

“What’s that all about?” Van asked after taking a sip. He put his glass down at leaned against the counter beside her. Billie gazed down at the floor as she averted eye contact and tried to avoid the question. Van waited patiently.

Realizing that he actually cared about what was going on with her, Billie decided to partially explain her reaction. “I never really believed in Santa Clause or Christmas miracles. I never got what I wanted for Christmas since I was seven,” she softly said.

"You care to elaborate?" Van asked, getting the feeling that she didn't want to talk about it. Billie just looked away, refusing to answer the question. "Okay, I understand. When you're ready. No rush," he said, taking her hand and giving it a slight squeeze.

“Thanks,” Billie barely whispered, looking up at him, her blue eyes soft and glassy with fresh tears she refused to shed. It made Van seriously wish he hadn’t made that bet with her if this was the kind of pain she’d have to go through in order to prove herself. But he pushed those thoughts aside, thinking it be best to just avoid it for as long as possible. They needed something else to focus on now.

“Come on, I still need help with the tree,” Van said as he dragged her back into the living room with him.

Billie couldn’t help but smile, wiping the unshed tears from her eyes with her finger as she was being rushed back into the living room. The pile of green looked atrocious, but it wasn’t as bad as Van was probably thinking. A little organization and everything would make sense, or so she hoped. “Come on, Van, you can rebuild an engine, but green plastic baffles you? Are all men afraid of pipe cleaners?” Billie asked playfully as she picked up one green branch and began looking for any indication of where it should go on the plastic tree stump.

“So you can build a tree but I have to pump the gas in your car?” Van retorted, grabbing another branch and throwing at her.

“And you will be once I win this bet!” she shot back, along with another branch, hitting Van square in the back of the head. She burst out laughing and quickly made a run for it when he lunged at her. Van chased her around the room for several minutes as Billie shrieked with laughter, trying to avoid his attempts to catch her. Somehow, Van did get the upper hand, and ended up tackling her on the couch.

“Get off me!” Billie yelled, unable to stop laughing as Van began to tickle her. “Stop! Please! Stop! Oh, my God! I can’t take it anymore! STOP!” she continued screaming as his hands managed to find every ticklish spot on her body. “I… can’t… breathe!” Billie heaved, tears streaming down her face.

“Say uncle!” Van wouldn’t let up until she gave in.

“Uncle!” Billie quickly shouted.

Van was slightly dumbfounded that she had given up so quickly. Hmm… So that was her weakness. He filed it away for later reference, his hands resting against either side of her head as they found themselves staring at each other again in that awkward silence, their faces closer than they had been before. Van could see the tiny flecks of amber against the sapphire blue irises of her eyes. He couldn’t resist running his hand through her dark, wavy hair.

At that precise moment, Van’s cell phone, which was sitting on the kitchen counter, began to ring. He gave her a sheepish smile and got up to answer it. “Hello?” he asked, aggravated that someone had interrupted his reindeer games.

“Hello, sir, I am with Random House and we are having a spectacular Christmas special on…” the voice on the other end started.

“I’m illiterate. Maybe you should give it a try, jackass!” he hissed and clicked the off button, but not before slamming the phone against the counter a couple of times just to take out some anger. “Damn people think I have nothing better to do on Christmas Even than to buy a stupid magazine,” Van grumbled as he walked back into the living room and saw Billie sitting on the couch, snickering.

“Illiterate, huh? I take it that wasn’t Deaq,” she said with a smile.

“No, worse, some jerk off selling magazines,” Van griped.

“You should have bought me a subscription to Redbook,” she pouted playfully.

Van rolled his eyes and smiled as he headed back to the couch to finish what they had been doing before the interruption. “You gonna help me with this thing or what?” he asked Billie as he took a seat in front of the pile of green and started to pick up pieces, looking for where they might fit.

“Yeah,” Billie replied as she got off the couch and sat beside him. Within minutes, she was already in charge, sorting the many pieces into different piles according to their size. From larger to smaller she arranged them until they were in the proper order to be put on the plastic stump. “The bigger ones go on the bottom, getting progressively smaller as you go up,” she instructed, handing Van the first round of plastic branches. Together, they managed to put up the tree in half an hour.

The decorations came next. Judging by the way they had been delicately laid out on the floor some ways away from the tree, Billie could tell they had some sentimental value for Van. She smiled, gazing at the small collection of antique pieces. Gently taking one teardrop shaped bud in her hand, Billie gazed at its hand painted golden finish, which was slightly cracking but still in remarkable condition. It had a beautiful cutout in the center in the shape of a Santa Clause.

“Be very careful with those,” Van said as he looked over in her direction, making sure she didn’t accidentally drop one.

“I am, don’t worry,” Billie reassured him. “These are very beautiful. How did you get them?”

Van smiled, “They belonged to my grandmother from my mother’s side of the family. She brought them over on the Queen Mary when she came from England after WWII. They’ve survived over fifty years of family, kids, packing, and moving.” He loved talking about his grandmother. She was an amazing woman.

“How’d you end up with them?” Billie asked.

“By default… The privileges of being an only child,” he replied with a small smile, taking another ornament, this time more round in shape and silver in color, and looking for a spot to place it on the tree.

“Tell me more about your grandmother,” she urged, actually finding herself fascinated with his family history.

Van stared at her for a second in surprise. No one had ever been that interested in his family history or his life in general. He began by saying, “Well, my grandmother was born in April 1920. She was the oldest girl of seven children. She had two older brothers, two younger brothers, and two younger sister. When she was four, her mom had a boy, but he was sick when he was born, and died when he was just a baby. Grandma always said something was wrong with his legs bad back. What it was, I don’t know,” Van explained with a smile. “Her father was a raging alcoholic. He would spend a large chunk of his paycheck within hours of getting it on alcohol, leaving her, her siblings, and their mother to fend for themselves.”

“Wow, that’s rough,” Billie said, her gaze still on him. She could tell there was much more he wanted to tell her and let him continue.

“In 1940, she was forced to quit school and work in a bomb factory when World War II arrived in England. Somehow, she’d kept these ornaments safe through the bombings of Manchester, where she lived,” Van recounted the stories he’d been told as a child. Billie sat there in awe of his family history. Hers was so similar. “In 1943, she took a trip to London and ended up working in a hospital as a nurse. That’s how she met my grandpa. He was a soldier in the war and had been hospitalized for a nervous breakdown. They got married in November of 1944 and she came over on the Queen Mary in January of 1945.”

Van paused for a moment to catch his breath. There was still a lot he wanted to say, a lot he wanted to tell her. “The first of their nine children was born on November 17, 1946. That was their first anniversary. My grandma and my grandpa were married for 54 years. She died last Thanksgiving of stomach cancer,” he finished solemnly, averting her gaze as his eyes fell upon the floor.

Billie wanted to cry. Van spoke of his grandmother with such love and gentleness. She could feel the heartbreak when he spoke of her death. “You really loved her, didn’t you?” she questioned softly.

“Yeah,” Van replied, his head still hanging low. “At times she was more of a mother to me than my own mother, especially when Ray Ray was in prison one year and my mom dropped me off with Grandma so she could go to the story. I didn’t see her again for nine months.” He finally looked up and met Billie’s gaze. She could see the fresh tears shining in his grey green eyes. Van quickly wiped them away before they began to fall. There was no way in hell he wanted to cry right now. He’d had enough of that already.

“So, what about your family?” Van gently prodded. Billie looked at the floor in front of her, not wanting to answer. “I know you’ve got parents, but what about siblings or grandparents?” he asked.

“I’m an only child,” Billie answered, taking her time. She wasn’t going to go into detail about her parents just yet, but she could say a few things about her grandparents. “My grandparents came from Austria and Germany. My grandfather was from Enns, Austria and grandma was from Munich, Germany. He was born in 1918 and she was born in 1920. In 1938, they got married and moved to Frankfurt, Germany. Hitler was in full power by then and had started the execution of the Jewish. Shortly after they moved there, one of their close friends, a Jewish woman, got arrested and sent to Bergen Belsen. She was gassed there. Grandma and Grandpa were upset and protested against Hitler. They got arrested and held for more than a year by the Gestapo. After the war ended, they moved to Cleveland, Ohio where they started a deli and Grandma had five children; four boys and a girl: my mother.”

Billie was having some trouble bringing up her past, but she pushed the awful memories back and focused on the good ones, hoping they’d get her through this without having to reveal much more. “My mom grew up, became a teacher, got married to my dad and moved to Kansas City, Missouri where I was born four years into the marriage,” she continued with a sad smile at the thought of her parents. Van noticed, but decided not to press her about them. “When I was fifteen, my grandfather died of a stroke. Three months later, my grandma also passed. The coroner said she died of a heart attack, but I know it was a broken heart that killed her,” Billie finished with a sniffle as she wiped a tear from her eye before it slid down her cheek.

Van took her hand again, his fingers lacing with hers as he looked into her sapphire eyes and smiled. “They sounded like wonderful people,” he said gently, squeezing her fingers. “What about your parents?”

Billie didn’t want to look at him. She was afraid that if she did, she’d spill her guts at that moment. His grey green eyes just seemed to do that to her; make her reveal parts of herself that she didn’t want to. But she looked up anyway, giving Van one of her uber-fake smiles. Suddenly, her nose picked up the funny scent coming from the kitchen. “What’s that smell?” she asked, sniffing the air.

Van’s eyes went wide when he realized what it was. “The HAM!” he nearly shouted as he shot up and raced into the kitchen, throwing open the oven door and grabbing the oven mitts to pull out the large piece of meat.

Billie resisted the urge to giggle as she followed him into the kitchen and watched as his second cooking disaster unfolded in front of her eyes. Several curses flew out of his mouth as he placed the ham on the counter beside the burnt rolls and assessed the damage. “Ham flambé?” Billie snickered as she leaned against the entrance to the kitchen. Van looked at her and glared. “Well, at least the inside should still be edible, if not dry.” He grabbed the oven mitt and threw it at her. “Hey!” Billie shrieked, throwing it back at him.

“Okay, that’s it, you’re not getting any dinner tonight,” Van scowled, even though it came out more playful than he intended.

“Come on, I know you’re not serious. Most of that ham is still edible, and like you said, we can scrape the burnt parts off the rolls. What else did you manage to ‘cook?’” she asked, doing the Austin Power’s Dr. Evil fingers at the last word. Van threw the mitt back in her direction, glaring at her again. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

“Sleep with one eye open tonight, Chambers,” he warned, taking out a large serving platter for the ham and a smaller bread basket for the rolls. “The mashed potatoes and vegetables are over there,” Van said, pointing to the two other dishes on the counter.

“Okay, these look pretty good,” Billie commented as she picked them up along with the rolls and carried them to the table. Van followed with the ham, carefully setting it down on the bright red tablecloth beneath the chandelier. Having forgotten all her previous comments, Van pulled Billie’s chair out for her and waited until she sat down before taking a seat across from her. The table was already set with plates and clean wine glasses, and a bottle of Chablis sat chilling in a wine bucket beside Van’s silverware.

Van gestured to the empty glass in front of Billie. She held it up, allowing him to fill it as she replied, “Thank you.” After having filled his own, he began to carve the ham. Just as he suspected, it was crispy on the outside and sawdust on the inside. “That doesn’t look too bad,” Billie said with a slight laugh.

“Yeah, don’t choke on it,” Van snickered as he put a slice on her plate then one on his own. The rest of the food was passed around and plated then set aside. Van grabbed his glass and held it up. “A toast,” he declared with a smile.

“Not again,” Billie playfully groaned as she lifted her glass as well.

“To overwhelming patience,” he said, grinning widely.

“And to illiteracy,” she finished, smiling back.

“Yeah,” Van chuckled. His laughter died down and he was soon looking straight into her sapphire eyes again. “Merry Christmas, Billie,” he finally ended.

“Merry Christmas, Van,” Billie replied, taking a sip of her wine.

After dinner, the pair sat at the table, talking and laughing for a few minutes after most of the food had been picked clean. “I have an idea,” Van said, getting up and taking the empty plates into the kitchen. He’d get around to cleaning them later. Right now, there were more important matters that needed to be attended to. He grabbed the tin she’d set on the counter earlier and returned to the dining room. Over the course of dinner, he’d found out that it contained divinity fudge.

“And what would that be?” Billie asked from the table, waiting for him to return.

“Let’s finish the tree and start on dessert,” he replied, grabbing his wine glass and heading to the living room. Billie followed suit, setting her glass down on the coffee table once there and grabbing an antique ornament from the box. “I’ll be right back,” Van said, realizing he’d forgotten a few more important things in the kitchen.

“Okay,” she called over her shoulder, finding a place on the tree for the ornament she’d picked up.

In the kitchen, Van took a green serving platter out of a cabinet near the oven for the fudge. From the fridge he picked up a carton of egg nog, pouring it into a large pitcher which he’d fished out of another cabinet, sprinkling it with a bit of dark rum. He put the rest of the rum on the tray with the egg nog and glasses and carried it into the living room where Billie was still putting ornaments on the tree.

“Here we go,” Van said as he set the tray down on the coffee table beside Billie’s empty wine glass. He poured two cups of the egg nog, handing one to her. Adding another shot of run to his drink, Van stood beside her and took a sip from his glass, savoring the taste. “Not bad,” he added, looking at the tree.

Billie took a sip of her own glass and promptly grabbed the rum, dumping at least a couple more shots into the egg nog. She took another sip and replied, “Yeah, that’s good stuff.” The shocked look on Van’s face made her giggled. “What? Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a girl drink before,” she added with a smile.

“Not you,” Van playfully argued.

“There’s a first time for everything, Van,” Billie said, picking up a piece of the fudge straight from the already opened tin. She took a bit and smiled slightly.

“What?” Van asked, noticing her smile.

“Oh, I was just remembering where I learned this fudge recipe from,” Billie answered, her smile quickly fading.

“Where from?” Van continued interrogating as he picked up a piece, taking a large bite. “This is good,” he added.

“I got it from my mother, who got it from her mother, and so on. She made it every year, until she…” Billie trailed off. She really didn’t want to say why her mother had stopped making it. The story was just too painful, especially with Christmas being the anniversary of the last time she ever saw her parents.

“Until what?” Van gently asked, getting the hint that this is what she’d been holding back.

Billie played with several strands of her hair as she desperately tried to think of some way to answer that question. “Until she couldn’t do it anymore,” she finally said, her voice cracking. She knew it was a cop out, but how else could she hold off on telling him just how awful her life had been?

“Uh, oh, I smell a sucky Christmas memory ahead,” Van replied with a fake smile.

Billie glared at him. “Let’s just forget the bet. You’re the king of sucky Christmases, okay,” she seemed to plead, her voice rising almost an octave above its normal tone.

“No, I can’t boss you around for a week by concession. This is a bet, not a presidential election, Billie,” Van answered with a chuckle. He had her between a rock and a hard place; she had to say something now.

“You’re right,” Billie said, narrowing her eyes in determination. “And since you came up with this stupid bet and this is your place, it’s only fair that you go first,” she commanded with a sly smile, her mood brightening substantially.

‘Crap… Whatever she’s got to say must be bad if I have to go first,’ Van thought, his grin turning into a frown. “Okay,” he said aloud, “Let me just say, you might be right about me being the king of sucky Christmases, because I got plenty of stories that revolve around a crappy Christmas.”

“We’ll see about that,” Billie said under her breath as the look of contemplation came across Van’s face. He appeared to be in deep thought for a few moments, his eyes glazed over as memories of those awful Christmases assaulted his mind. Finally, he snapped out of his stupor and looked at her, ready.

“My crappy Christmases started when I was six. That’s when I caught my mom doing the deed with another man under the Christmas tree. When I was eight, I watched my father get arrested in the front lawn. My mom dumped me on some family friend and ran off to Maui with some guy when I was nine. I found out Ray Ray was sleeping with my teacher when I was ten. At eleven, I discovered my mom was an alcoholic. And then at thirteen, my parents split up on Christmas morning. I watched my dad just pack up and leave without so much as a goodbye,” Van explained, becoming spiteful almost instantly. When Billie tried to put a hand on his shoulder, he pulled away almost violently, not wanting the human contact just yet. The pain was evident on his face as he stared at the floor. His grey green eyes began to shine in the light of the room. Billie bit down on her lip, now wishing she really hadn’t made this bet either. It was bad enough she had to trudge up her own memories, but watching Van almost break down after bringing up his own was just as painful.

“That’s not even the half of it,” he suddenly mumbled, glancing in her direction for a moment before looking back down at the floor. “I thought I’d caught a break after almost eight years passed without there being any major problems on Christmas. Yeah, there were the usual family fights between my parents and the rest of the family, but that was nothing compared to what happened between my girlfriend and I when I was a junior in college.” Van paused for a moment, collecting him. He could feel that familiar feeling of helplessness washing over him as he tried to hold himself together for the big finale, but he was almost certain that he’d be needing more than just the rum to calm him down after this story. Standing up, he walked into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Jägermeister he kept in the freezer in case of emergencies. This was an emergency.

Returning to the living room, Van uncapped the bottle and drank straight from it as Billie sat on the couch watching him intently. “Her name was Stacey,” he finally continued. “She was twenty. We’d been together for almost a year, and I was really falling for her, you know? All those damn warm and fuzzy feelings, the butterflies… I thought she was the one. That Christmas I realized the whole ‘one’ thing was a load of crap.” Gulping down at least two more shots of the strong liquor, Van kept going, “She comes to my apartment that night, has me sit down, and tells me that she’s been sleeping with my best friend, Rich, for the last three months, and that she’s pregnant with his baby. She then proceeds to dump me, walks out, and I never hear from either one of them again.” Drinking almost half the bottle of Jägermeister, Van finally flopped down on the couch beside Billie and looked at her with the most painful look she’d ever seen. It was actually worse than the look she’s seen on his face the night Dre died.

Unable to figure out what to say, Billie went for the default, “I’m so sorry, Van.”

He sighed, running his fingers through his chestnut colored hair. “Now you know why I hate Christmas,” he replied. “You turn to tell me why you deserve to win this bet, because I don’t know how you’re going to top that.”

Billie gave him a half smile as she grabbed the Jägermeister out of his hand and took a swig herself. “I’ll be needing this,” she said, holding up the half empty bottle.

“It’s all yours,” Van answered, already feeling tipsy from the strong drink. He knew he was going to wake up with a monster hangover the next day, but he didn’t care. At least it helped numb the pain.

“You wanna know why my Christmases suck more than yours?” Billie asked, drinking a little more from the bottle.

“Why?” Van asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question.

Billie glared at him before she dove right in, “My parents died on Christmas.”

Van’s jaw went slack as he stared at her, unable to believe what she was telling him. At first he thought she was just messing with his head, but when he saw the tears welling in her sapphire eyes, Van knew she was telling the truth. “S… S… ‘Scuse me?” he questioned hesitantly.

Billie just looked at him, and they soon fell into a deafening silence that lasted for quite some time. She continued to consume large amounts of the Jägermeister, drinking another quarter of the bottle as she contemplated telling him exactly how it happened. There was a part of her that didn’t want to talk about it, but there was another part of her that needed to get it off her chest. The voices battled in her head for dominance until Van finally spoke up.

“Billie…?” his voice trailed off when her head shot up sharply to gaze at him, sapphire eyes already spilling tears down her apple shaped cheeks. Without thinking, Van raised his hand and wiped them away, his fingers lingering on her skin as several more fell. “You don’t have to…” he said, but she stopped him, pressing her index finger across his lips.

“I do,” Billie replied, swallowing hard as she pulled away from his hand.

How pale is the sky that brings forth the rain
As the changing of seasons prepares me again
For the long bitter nights and the wild winter's day
My heart has grown cold, my love stored away
My heart has grown cold, my love stored away

“I was seven,” she began, her eyes staring off into space as the memory of that Christmas day invaded her mind. “We got up on Christmas morning and opened our stockings and presents. That’s when I got this pendant,” she added, fingering the small silver angel around her neck. “Mom made breakfast for us and then got ready to start our dinner. She realized that she needed some dried cranberries for the salad, and Dad had no idea what they were, so they took me over to the neighbor’s house to play with their dog and left to go to the store.”

Billie took a double shot of the strong liquor before she continued. This was harder than she imagined, but with her pain being slowly numbed by the alcohol, she almost thought she could get through it. “Two hours later the still weren’t back. Nina, the neighbor, tried to keep me busy. She gave me some cookies and set up my doll house for me. We played with it for a long time. For how long, I don’t remember. All I remember was the knock at the door. She got up to answer it thinking it was my parents, but it was the police,” Billie said, taking in a shaky breath as a few more tears slid down her cheeks. What she was getting ready to say next would be hard, but she knew she had to do it. Another shot of Jägermeister, and she was ready.

I've been to the mountain left my tracks in the snow
Where souls have been lost and the walking wounded go
I've taken the pain no girl should endure
But faith can move mountains of that I am sure
Faith can move mountains of that I am sure

“The officer came in and told us that my parents had been in an accident and that they were dead,” Billie started to sob. Her head fell into her hands, muffling her cries.

“Oh, Billie,” Van barely whispered as he tentatively touched her shoulder in a silent gesture of support.

She cried for a couple more minutes before continuing, “They had been on their way back home. There was a semi on the road. The driver had fallen asleep apparently and his rig crossed the median, hitting my parents head on.”

Just get me through December
A promise I'll remember
Get me through December
So I can start again

Sobs took over Billie’s body as Van watched her finally crumble into tiny pieces just inches away from him. He didn’t know what to say or think. He was torn between wanting to apologize for making her go through this and wanting to cry with her. This was far worse than all of his Christmas experiences combined.

Van did the only thing he could think of; he wrapped his arms around her for an enveloping hug. It took a moment, but Billie finally collapsed against his chest and completely lost it. Van was taken aback by her behavior, having never seen her this upset before. Even Alexa’s death and the pain Billie suffered through it paled in comparison to this. Instinctively, he wrapped himself a little tighter around her body, hoping the little comfort he could offer her was enough to pull her through, and stroked her hair as she cried.

After having finally calmed down, Billie sat up, pushing Van away with little force and picking up the bottle of Jägermeister again. She downed the last of it and asked, “You got anymore?” Van shook his head, handing her the rum from the table.

‘Oh, God, what else?’ he thought, realizing she wasn’t done yet.

No divine purpose brings freedom from sin
And peace is a gift that must come from within
I've looked for the love that will bring me to rest
Feeding this hunger beating strong in my chest
Feeding this hunger beating strong in my chest

That distant look appeared on Billie’s face again as more memories drifted into her mind about her other Christmases. “Since I didn’t have any other family, I was placed in four different sets of foster homes, which is when the real problems started. The first set was okay, distant, but okay. They were the only ones that really ever cared about me. They might have been distant, but deep down I think the actually liked me. They remembered my birthday and always got me something for Christmas. I stayed with them for two years, then they divorced,” Billie described, gulping down at least three shots worth of rum before putting the bottle down.

Get me through December
A promise I'll remember
Get me through December
So I can start again

“When I was nine, I was moved to another home. These people weren’t so great. The foster mother accused me of seducing her husband from the start. The woman was an alcoholic and her husband killed himself when I was twelve. It happened just after New Year’s. After that, I was sent to a state center for teens,” Billie continued, her voice becoming almost monotone as her eyes glassed over. Another good shot of rum and she kept going. The alcohol seemed to be the only thing keeping her from going in sane at the moment. “In my first 24 hours there, I was beaten to a pulp. The older kids continued to pick on me up until I learned how to defend myself. That’s where I also picked up the smoking habit. I think I was there until I turned fourteen, and then it was off to foster parents number three.”

I've been to the mountain left my tracks in the snow
Where souls have been lost and the walking wounded go
I've taken the pain no girl should endure
Faith can move mountains of that I am sure
But faith can move mountains of that I am sure

Billie chuckled suddenly, the elating effects of the alcohol finally mixing in her system. “They were rich snobs,” she said, her words beginning to slur. “They had one kid, and the wife didn’t want another because she was afraid to lose her figure. Yeah, what figure?” Billie went off into another reverie before she refocused on her original story. “The husband was an orthodontist, working all the time. He had an affair with his dental assistant. The only reason I knew was because I watched him like a hawk. I’d see him sneaking out of the house late at night and meeting her on the other side of the street. Their kid hated me too, but not like I gave a rat’s ass. They didn’t think much of me, never got me presents for my birthday or Christmas. One year, they flew to Florida for the holidays and left me at a halfway house, which is where I got raped.”

Stopping to drink another inch off the rum bottle, the numbness finally caught up to Billie. The memories kept coming, but she barely felt a thing. Now all she was doing was just recounting the events that led her to believe Christmas was the worst holiday ever invented. “Those bastards finally gave up on me when I was sixteen and I was onto my last set of foster parents. The mother was a tramp and her husband was abusive as hell. He drank, gambled, and did drugs. He hit me on a routine basis, and no matter what I’d learned at that center, nothing I did could stop the bastard. He just got more pissed off if I fought him, so I stopped, and let the abuse run its course. When I was seventeen, he told me he had a special Christmas present for me. Yeah… the bastard raped me. I’d finally had enough and ran away,” Billie finished, the tears having stopped a long time ago. She emptied the bottle of rum, her head beginning to spin deliciously with all the alcohol in her system.

Get me through December
A promise I'll remember
Get me through December
So I can start again

Van was beyond speechless. He sat on the couch and just stared at her, his grey green eyes unable to fall away from the woman that had just bared her soul to him. It was much more than he’d expected, but now he knew why Billie was the way she was. His blood began to boil hearing about the last man that raped her. He wanted to track down the bastard and kill him. Jumping off the couch, he began to pace back and forth.

Van couldn’t believe what she had just told him. Billie had been through such a horrible trauma and to help her move on, that son of a bitch raped her! He was so angry. His fingers dug into his palms as his face flushed. Suddenly, Van stopped and looked at her. “How could he do that to you? How could anyone ever hurt your, for that matter?” he started asking, unable to wrap his mind around everything. He wanted nothing more than to understand.

“You’ve been through so much in your childhood. You have to be the most resilient woman I’ve ever met. How else could you go through all this and still be sane?” Van continued as he sat down on the couch beside her again. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry for all the things that happened to you,” he added, kissing the top of her head gently.

“I survived,” was the only thing Billie said as she wrapped her arms around him, desperately needing the warmth of another human’s touch. The gravity of it all had finally filtered through the alcohol and hit her, sending Billie into a spiral back down to earth as several tears fell from her eyes and landed on his shirt.

Van pulled away and looked at her, those bright sapphire eyes shining in the pale light of the room. “You certainly did,” he whispered. “You really are amazing, you know that?” he asked, putting his fingers under her chin and tilting her head up to look at him. His thumb traced down her cheek, wiping away the tears that had spilled from her eyes and smeared her makeup. Slowly, they began to lean towards each other until his lips were lightly touching hers. They played on hers for a couple of moments as his fingers combed through her dark hair. Her hands crept up to rest on his shoulders until Van pulled back and looked at her in shock. Billie didn’t say anything for several moments, then she smiled at him.

Thrown completely off by the smile, Van just stared at her, still shocked that she hadn’t hit him yet. This was so unlike either one of them, but somehow it just felt so right. When he realized that Billie wasn’t going to beat him to a pulp, Van ran his hand down her cheek again and whispered, “You’re so beautiful.” She blushed and looked away. Gently taking her face in his hands and making her look at him with those fiery sapphire eyes, he said, “You really are,” before descending on her lips again.

Their second kiss was just as sweet as the first. Billie leaned back until she was lying on the couch, Van’s body positioned on top of hers as his hands ran through her hair again. He leaned into her, his tongue darting over her lips, wordlessly asking for permission to enter her mouth. She granted it by parting her lips and letting him explore. Her soft moans told him everything he needed to know about what she liked and what she didn’t. It didn’t take him long to figure out what gave her the most pleasure, but before he could explore further, Van pulled away, his lungs burning for air.

Billie whimpered feeling short changed. She was really enjoying this new side of Van; protective, gentle and seductive. A few strands of music filtered through her ears as a song she’d once heard on the radio came to mind, “Turn the lights down low, take it off, let me show, my love for you, insatiable…” His lips quickly returned to hers, their bodies pressing even more tightly against one another. She could feel his hands fall over her shoulders, tugging at the fabric until he revealed soft, tanned flesh. His kisses moved down her cheek and along her neck until they reached the skin he’d just exposed. Van sucked and licked and nipped, eliciting moans of pleasure from the woman beneath him. Oh, how he loved those soft, almost inaudible sounds as he continued to kiss her warm flesh, gently pulling down the rest of the fabric until it was discarded on the floor beside the couch.

Van’s warm hands explored the rest of her body as his kisses returned to her mouth. Billie tugged at the shirt tucked in his pants, her fingers making contact with his heating skin, causing a bolt of electricity to shoot through his body. Van moaned against her lips as his hands roamed the length of her body; down her neck, over her shoulders, across her collarbone, and finally ending up at the soft mounds of her breasts where they lingered for a couple of moments, eliciting a sharp gasp from Billie. They traveled lower, reaching her stomach as her fingers moved to the front of his shirt and began to undo the buttons. Slowly, she helped him shrug out of the shirt, revealing beautifully tanned and well toned pecks, muscled arms and ripped abs. Billie couldn’t help herself as she ran her fingers over his chest and stomach, tickling a sensuous trail down to the waistband of his pants.

Van moaned her name as he felt the trail of her fingers over his warm flesh. His hand worked her white tube top up her chest until the fabric was over her breasts, pausing to hold the supple mounds in his palms. “Oh God, Van,” she whispered, seeing the smile on his face. In seconds, her shirt was discarded on the floor along with the other clothes. His hands returned to her breasts as he caught her lips in a kiss that was the opposite of the last one; full of need and passion, passion Billie didn’t know Van possessed. Right now, he was clearly in charge and it was quite a turn on.

Van’s hands continued to massage the supple mounds of her breasts, teasing the nipples as his lips trailed down her neck. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed against her skin as he nipped at the tanned flesh of her collarbone. His lips continued their southern trek as he gently made contact with one hardening nub. He took the nipple into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around it, arousing her even more.

Billie filtered her fingers through his dark hair as her head rolled back against the couch cushion, her back arching to give him more access. His hands continued their exploration of her body, roaming over her ribs and her stomach, his fingertips playing at her navel before running down the front of her leg. He stopped mid thigh and traveled back up, this time along the inner portion. When they reached her hip, he left his fingers brush lightly over the fabric covering her dampening sex. She bucked against his hand, softly moaning, “Oh, yes… Please Van, don’t stop,” as he kissed her again.

Van positioned himself so that he was hovering above her, his erection straining against his pants. He ground his hips against her, causing her to cry out in pleasure. His hands found their way to the closure on her pants and quickly undid it and the zipper. Sitting up, he helped pull them off her long, lean, tanned legs. “Much better,” he purred, kissing his way up her legs, only stopping to run his lips over the thin, damp fabric covering her pussy. Billie hissed with delight when his tongue made contact with her swollen clit. He lingered there for a couple of moments before kissing his way back up her body to her nipples. He took one hard nub into his mouth and began to suck as his hand reached down, replacing his lips on her hot sex.

Billie cried his name as his hand cupped her through the flimsy fabric of her lacy white underwear and he rubbed his palm against her clit. She was having a hard time trying to control herself, her mind swimming from the alcohol and the pleasure Van was giving her. After a moment, his lips left her breast and traveled down her well defined, perspiring torso. He lingered at her navel and dipped his tongue in. “Oh, Van,” she softly moaned as he continued his trek downward until he reached the elastic band of her panties. When he removed his hand from her wet sex, Billie whimpered, “Don’t stop… Please.”

Van smiled up at her, taking the waistband of her underwear in his teeth and pulling it off. Within moments, he had discarded the final offending garment of clothing standing between him and her goddess like body. He couldn’t help giving her an approving once over before kissing his way up her thighs, his lips falling over her slick mound and planting soft kisses there. His tongue gently snaked across her outer folds and flicked her clit, which was now peeking out from under its hood.

Billie gasped and grabbed fistfuls of his hair. She pulled him up to her face, her lips spilling kisses over his, her tongue running along the soft flesh before dipping in and exploring his mouth. She caressed the inside of his lips, inciting a moan from deep within him. She managed to get her hands on the button of his jeans and quickly undid it along with the zipper. In one swift motion, she pulled them and his boxers off his hips, letting his manhood spring forth like a soldier’s salute. Her eyebrows arched as she admired his impressive size.

Van positioned himself between her legs, giving her a cocky grin as if he knew what she was thinking. His gaze softened as he hovered above her, his grey green eyes searching her sapphire orbs, silently asking for permission. “Please Van… I need you… now,” she pleaded in a husky voice. In response, Van bent down and slowly kissed her as he pushed himself inside her entrance. He went extremely slow, making sure she felt every single inch of his throbbing cock slide into her.

Judging by her soft moans, Billie not only felt every inch, but enjoyed it as well. Van allowed her a moment to adjust to his size before he began to move in and out in a slow, shallow rhythm. As he thrust, he trailed kisses from her mouth down her neck and to her breasts. In ten minutes, their pace had slowly increased to the point where he was pounding his full length into her. Billie cried out, arching her back and grabbing his hair with every tingling sensation of pleasure he gave her. The old couch creaked in time to their love making.

Van was straining to draw it out; Billie could see it on his face. She desperately tried to find the release that was on the verge of exploding, but would make its appearance fully. He thrust fast and faster, pushing into her as her hips met his with a thrust of her own. “Oh, God, Billie! I’m coming!” Van shouted as he thrust into her one final time and released his seed deep into her core while she gripped his firm ass and pulled him as far into her as was physically possible.

“Van! Oh! Oh! OH GOD! This is IT! Uhhhhh!” Billie screamed as her own climax finally hit her with the force of an atomic bomb.

After what seemed like a never ending orgasm, Van moved over on the couch so that his full weight wasn’t on top of Billie. He stroked her sweat slicked hair and kissed her face as she came down from her own climax. “That was incredible,” he panted.

“It was,” she agreed, snuggling into him a bit more. With her head in the crook of his neck, she gently kissed his collarbone and sighed contently. “I don’t think I’ve ever had such a wonderful Christmas.” Billie glanced up, her sapphire eyes meeting the grey green of his. Her fingers gently stroked his cheek as she added, “Thank you.”

Van smiled down at her and lifted her chin so their lips met in a soft kiss. “You’re welcome,” he whispered, kissing her again. They remained on the couch for the rest of the night, content with each other’s presence, happy to spend the holiday with another human being instead of alone.

Feeling Billie shiver, Van wrapped his arms around her then realized she’d fallen asleep. The couch might have been somewhat comfortable, but he knew from experience that it only led to a morning fill with back pain and a headache. Carefully, he extricated himself out from beneath her and gently slipped his arms beneath her neck and knees, carrying her to his bedroom and the mattress on the floor. As delicately as possible, he laid her out on the black comforter then wrapped the other half over her naked body. Rummaging through the closet, Van found another blanket and wrapped himself in it as he lay down beside her. Taking Billie in his arms once again, he smiled and sighed. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring; whether Billie would be in a good mood or want to kill him for what had happened. Van would just have to wait and see until then.

*~*~*

The gentle sounds of waves crashing against the shore were the first things Billie heard that Christmas morning, followed by the scent of the sea as it filtered through the open window somewhere in the room. As soft sigh escaped her lips as she stretched out, feeling the sun’s rays warming the exposed flesh of her arms. Slowly, she opened her eyes, her head beginning to swim as the light hit them full force. This was definitely not the feeling she’s expected to have this morning. But then again, almost every Christmas felt this way. It was just part of the package she called her life.

Billie decided it was best to lay there for a while with her eyes closed, the hangover slowly filtering out of her system. How much did she have to drink the night before? What had she done to prompt the alcohol binge in the first place? Then it hit her; the bet. “Shit,” Billie mumbled, placing her hand over her eyes as she opened them again, this time shielded from the sunlight. What had she revealed last night?

Looking around to try and figure out her surroundings, Billie knew she wasn’t in her own bed. This one was too low. Besides, the room was sparsely decorated, with only a surfboard propped up against the wall to her left and a couple of posters plastered on the one to the right and in front of her. She rolled on her back, wondering how she’d gotten here.

Feeling the strange sensation of the fabric against her skin, Billie immediately lifted up the comforter to reveal her nakedness. She gasped before realizing exactly what had happened the night before. “Oh, my God!” she groaned, covering her face with her hand. But for some odd reason, there was no feeling of regret coursing through her veins like she expected there to be. What she’d done with Van had been amazing; there was no doubt in her mind of that. A smile crept over her lips as she remembered every little detail of what he had done to her, and how incredible it felt to be touched by another human being. It was so wrong, but felt oh so right. She whimpered, now faced with a whole new dilemma. What was Van going to think about this?

‘Speaking of the devil,’ Billie thought as he snuck back into the room wearing a pair of loose fitting navy blue track pants and nothing else.

Van glanced at the bed, finding his lover awake and staring back at him with those fiery sapphire eyes. A smile appeared on his lips as he softly said, “Good morning… I mean afternoon,” correcting himself as he looked down at his watch.

Billie didn’t say anything for a couple of moments, just stared at him with those intense eyes, wondering what was going on in his mind. Van knew what that look meant. He’d seen it on the faces of so many of the women he’d slept with. He was about to get one of those heart breaking lines that made him grow a little colder every time he heard one and made him wonder if there was such a thing as love. His face went slack as he started, “About last night…”

“Please don’t tell me you thought it was a mistake,” Billie interrupted, getting the same idea. She might have felt the need to tell him that it possibly was, but watching his heart break before she could even say one word for either case made her realize just how much of an impact last night had been on both of them.

Van couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For a moment, he thought he’d heard Billie wrong. This wasn’t a mistake? He asked himself. “Ah… Wa… No,” he finally mumbled, looking down at his bare feet as he raked his hand through his messy hair.

“I needed last night,” Billie confessed taking a sudden interest in a frayed edge of the comforter, her eyes unable to look in his direction. “I didn’t think I’d ever have another wonderful Christmas, but you proved me wrong.” She looked up at him, tears threatening to fall down those beautiful cheeks. “I’ve been alone for so long that even if you’d just asked me to spend Christmas with you, I would have come. There really was no need for the bet. I thought that was just going to be a perk. But now that everything’s been said and done, and you know all that I’ve been trying to hide, I can’t believe you’re still here talking to me. I thought you would have just kicked me out and told me to go home, but you didn’t. You did the exact opposite. You made love to me. You made me feel wanted again. You gave me the one present I’ve been waiting for all my life; someone who actually cared about me.” It was then that the tears began to fall from her eyes again. She wanted to hide beneath the comforter, but Van had crossed the room so quickly and wrapped his arms around her that she never got the chance.

“I’ve always cared about you,” he whispered into her ear as he stroked her hair. “Last night I just wanted to prove how much. All that you told me, it made me care about you even more. Ever since the first day we met, I knew you were something special, and last night proved it.” Van paused for a moment, trying to think of what else to say to make her believe his feelings towards her were genuine. “Billie, you’re one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met, and I’d be lying to you if I said I didn’t have feelings for you, because I do. Deep ones… I don’t know how deep just yet, but I was hoping to figure it out, because now that I have you, I don’t want to lose you.”

Billie looked up at him thinking her ears were deceiving her. “You… What?” She was having a hard time formulating sentences. “Could you say that… again?” she asked, wanting to make sure she’d heard him correctly.

“I have feelings for you, Billie,” Van said as he wiped her tears away with his fingertips. “I don’t know if its love, but I know that there’s something drawing me to you, and that I want to explore it, but only if you’ll let me.”

A smile crept onto Billie’s pale pink lips as her hand fell against the back of his neck and pulled him in for a simple, sweet kiss. “Should I take that as a yes?” he asked, somewhat surprised by the move.

Billie chuckled, “Yes.”

“Good,” Van replied, kissing her again. His hand snaked beneath the comforter, finding warm, naked flesh.

Billie smiled against his lips, quickly pulling away and shaking a finger at him. “Ah, ah!” she scolded, wrapping the comforter tightly against her body. Van gave her a puzzled look. “I think I won the bet,” Billie finally said as she gave him a sly grin.

“How did you win the bet?” he playfully whined.

“I’d think losing your parents on Christmas is much worse than having one arrested,” she replied.

“Point taken,” Van said as he sat back and glared at her.

“And my first order for you…” Billie paused, placing her well manicured finger to her chin as she pretended to think of what she wanted Van to do for her. “My first order is for you to take off those pants, get under the covers with me, and do what you did to me last night over and over again for the rest of the week.”

A cocky grin crept onto Van’s face as he answered, “Your wish is my command.”

Fin!