A/N: An answer to the Christmas Challenge that Kristen left…Which is hopefully not too much like hers! (I'm sorry, K, I started writing it before I saw that you'd posted yours. Please accept my apologies.)
Claire had come to the suddenly very clear realization that this was not a good idea. It was a simple Christmas party, she'd thought, so what would be the harm in inviting the breakfast club? They were, after all, her friends – possibly the ones she was closest to at the moment – and her mother had said she could invite anyone. Though it had been fairly clear when John had come to the door that by 'anyone' her mother had not been including the local delinquents.
"Oh, hello," her mother had said, plastering on her fakest smile yet and looking John over. "Are you-"
"I'm here for the party," John had replied, smiling and looking – though surely he wasn't capable of such a thing – a little nervous.
Claire had hurried down the stairs, only one earring in, and stopped her mother before anything horrific could come out of her mouth. "John's my guest, Mom," Claire said, smiling her own sickly sweet smile and grabbing John's arm. "For the Christmas party."
Her mother stared at her, and stared at John. John smirked, tipped his invisible hat and said cheerily, "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Standish!"
The second to arrive was Brian, who was, all in all, a far more respectable guest but still not the kind of young man Claire's mother expected her daughter to invite to their house. When Claire rushed to the door she found a very anxious Brian rambling at her mother.
"So, I, uh, wanted to say thanks for inviting me, and I have this wine to give you – not that I drink wine, or want to, or was intending to bring it for us – but my mother wouldn't let me leave the house without bringing something and wine seemed appropriate because, well, uh, people usually bring wine to parties? I'm not sure if there's a more appropriate Christmas drink or not – seeing as how I don't drink – and I don't actually know-"
"Mom, this is Brian," Claire said, taking the wine from Brian's sweaty palms and placing it in her mother's hands.
"Hello, Brian," her mother replied, once she'd taken a breath and her eyes had returned from their glazed over state. "Thank you for the wine as well. It looks like a good year."
"Well, like I said, I wouldn't know, but I hope…" He trailed off as Claire dragged him downstairs to the basement, where Bender was lying lazily on a couch. "Oh, wow, a pool table!"
"My goodness golly, it's the coolest thing you've ever seen, isn't it?" Bender asked, grinning at Brian. It was then that Claire started to think inviting the other four members of the breakfast club was a bad idea.
Bender made his way over to the pool table. "What do you say to a game of pool, Brian?" He had a sly look in his eyes, and Claire was vaguely aware that leaving him alone with Brian could very well end with Brian in tears, or at least in utter bewilderment.
"Oh, I don't know, I'm not sure I'm any good…" Brian trailed off, eyeing the pool table carefully.
"Naw, come on-" Bender passed a pool stick to Brian "- it'll be fun. We can make it into a challenge and everything."
Claire, still wary of the grin on John's face, was about to interfere when the doorbell rang. She had to choose – reaching the door before her mother could, or stopping John from, well, being John. "Don't be mean," she shot quickly to John, catching a ridiculously faux-innocent grin from him as she raced up the stairs.
Her mother must have decided, after the first incident with the delinquent child, that she should stand watch at the door for Claire's friends. This time, it was Allison, decked in complete black garb with a red ribbon in her hair and a bag at her feet. This time, Claire's mother was ready with another smile. "Why, hello there dear. Are you one of Claire's friends?"
Allison hesitated for a moment before nodding, slowly, and then seeing Claire behind her mother. A look of relief passed over her face as Claire joined them in the doorway.
"This is Allison, Mom," Claire said, already tugging Allison towards the basement.
"I love your ribbon," her mother called, and Allison smiled as if she was sharing a joke with herself.
When they reached the basement again John and Brian were in heated competition. Allison surveyed the board quickly.
"Don't pocket a ball, klepto," John said warningly, but Allison only shot him a silly grin and drummed her fingers on the edge of the pool table.
"He's beating you." Allison directed her comment at John, and Claire looked up quickly.
"Really?" She asked, joining Allison by the side of the table.
John scowled. "Only by a little."
"By a little he means a lot," Allison said to Claire.
Both girls glanced at Brian, who was lining up for a shot and biting his lip in concentration. He sunk his last ball and moved on to the eight ball, much to John's disgust and Claire's glee.
Brian turned to John. "We could, uh, play best out of three, maybe? To make it fair. That could have just been a fluke, really, and maybe if we played a bit more…." Brian regarded John with all the eagerness of a child at Christmas.
"It was a fluke," John replied. "For you."
Allison snorted softly, earning another glare from John. Brian busied himself setting up the game once again, and Claire rushed upstairs at the sound of the doorbell once again.
"Oh Andrew," her mother exclaimed, "How wonderful to see you!" She was gushing so loudly in part because of the copious amount of alcohol already in her system, and partly because Andy was clearly a welcome change from the delinquent, the brainiac, and the seemingly mute Allison.
"Hey, Mrs. Standish," Andy said, clearly used to dealing with gushing drunk mothers at Christmastime. "I brought a poinsettia."
"Oh, how wonderful!" She tipped her glass and spilled some champagne on the carpet, not that she noticed.
Claire ushered Andy to the basement. "Thanks Mom," she said, and her mother only laughed again, spilling more of her drink. She tucked the poinsettia behind her ear and set off to rejoin her party guests. Claire shook her head and followed Andy downstairs.
"He's beating you?" Andy exclaimed with obvious amusement.
"Again," Allison noted, and Andy chuckled.
"Shut up, Sporto," John growled, "I bet you aren't any good at pool."
"Yeah," Andy replied, "But at least I admit it."
Before John could do anything drastic in retaliation – like throw a pool cue at Andy – Claire jumped in. "When did you stop believing in Santa?"
"What kind of a question is that?" Andy asked.
"I was six, I think," Allison replied.
"I don't think I ever believed in Santa," Andy said with a begrudging sigh. "My father and my older brothers made sure of that."
"I'm with you on that one, Sporto," John agreed. "Too much crap going on in my house to believe in a big guy in red who brings presents. My father's track record with presents is pretty shitty."
"I wasn't, um, I think maybe I was ten?" Brian said tentatively.
"Ten?" Andy exclaimed.
"Yeah, well, I only have a younger sister, and my parents, they really wanted to, you know, shelter me. And I think they were, uh, worried, that I might tell my sister once I knew. But I didn't."
"How did you finally work it out?" Claire asked.
"Did they sit you down? Have a heart to heart over milk and cookies?" John had always been good at mocking Brian, but he was even better at it when he was losing at pool.
"No, I um, worked it out for myself, because, see, I walked downstairs on Christmas Eve, to um, check something, maybe I wanted to see if it was real, or maybe I was just walking downstairs for something else, I don't really remember, but the cookies and tea we left for Santa were gone but there were no presents. Plus my parents were still, um, in the TV room, and wouldn't they have heard Santa?" Brian easily sunk another shot.
"Probably," John said, the mocking tone still strong in his voice. "But maybe Santa is just really quiet, you ever think of that? Or maybe he left the presents in the sleigh."
John looked like he was going to continue, so Claire broke in quickly. "Did everyone bring presents?" The group murmured their assent, except for John, who was still fuming and who they weren't expecting Christmas presents from anyways. "We should head upstairs, I think – my mother will want to start gift-giving."
Leaving the game of pool for a few moments, the Breakfast Club trekked upstairs and into the living room.
"Oh look, here comes the cute couple now!" One of the women in the room, clearly a friend of Claire's mother, was suddenly the loudest in the room.
"Yes," Claire's mother gushed once again, "Don't Claire and Andrew make a wonderful couple?"
"What?" Came the tandem reply from Claire, Andy, John, and Allison.
"So sweet," someone said, and Claire felt herself being pushed next to Andy. He shot her an awkward glance.
"Mom, I don't think you understand-" Claire said, but was quickly interrupted.
"Ah, young love," came a wispy voice from another one of the adults.
"But we're not-" Andy tried.
"They are quite an adorable couple.
"All right," Claire's mother exclaimed gaily, ignoring Claire's protests. "It's time for gifts!"
"I don't see why we couldn't have done this downstairs," Andy grumbled, trying to distance himself from Claire.
"Because then it wouldn't be as fun," John shot back, before turning to Claire. "Claire, for Christmas I wanted to give you something memorable."
Claire was wary. "Okay…What is it?"
"This," John said, smirking, before swooping in and kissing her with more passion than any of the adults had seen in ten years.
Brian flushed a bright red, Allison looked faintly amused, and Andy just shook his head. There was a stunned silence from the rest of the room, and then quiet murmuring.
"While the attention's on them," Andy whispered, pulling Allison to the side and leaving Brian to fend for himself, "I wanted to give you this."
Allison was just as wary of Andy's gift as Claire had been of hers. She silently took the box from his hand and unwrapped it. Inside sat a simple black baby doll; the lace and silk told Allison that it was lingerie.
"Don't freak out," Andy said, and Allison did her best not to. "I just wanted you to have something pretty. I'm not trying to force you into anything, and I don't care if you never wear it – I just wanted you to have the option, in case you ever wanted to…Wear something sexy and pretty." He looked at the still silent Allison. "It's black." The hopefulness and desperation in his tone was evident.
"Thanks," Allison said softly. She looked up from the box and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Maybe I'll even let you see it some time," and with that, she slipped away to give Brian his present, leaving a very red and dumbfounded Andy in her wake.
After John and Claire had finally parted, and the adults had gotten over their shock, the Breakfast Club departed downstairs to continue their evening. Claire was, though incredibly embarrassed, quite happy; John had never really been one for public displays of affection. Besides, showing her mother that she was with John – as opposed to Andy, for instance – was easier than trying to tell her.
John had caused havoc, his favourite thing to do, especially at Christmastime and especially in the homes of the rich, and so he was content.
Allison was realizing that maybe feeling pretty wasn't so bad after all (as she fondled her new lingerie) and thinking that maybe become a tease wasn't too bad either.
Brian had a new physics book – University level – from Allison (though he daren't ask where she'd gotten it) and a couple games of pool against John Bender under his belt, and both those things made for a merrier Christmas.
Andy had decided that maybe he wasn't as bad at buying gifts as he'd thought, and well – details about his other thoughts aren't entirely appropriate for a Christmas story.
The Breakfast Club finished off the night with a little too much alcohol and Brian winning seven consecutive games of pool against John.
"Seven consecutive flukes are a little hard to come by," Andy pointed out, and then John through the pool cue at him.