Author's Note: Merry Christmas burnoutinsomniac (of tumblr)! I really hope you like your gift! From your Secret Santa, 70s-show-diary!
Author's Note (2): Season 5, Christmas time, sometime between episodes "Whole Lotta Love" (5.16) and "Bring it on Home" (5.19) before Jackie starts spending the nights with Hyde at the Forman's.
The moon dimly illuminates my room enough so that I can just barely make out Steven's silhouette as he closes my bedroom door. I keep my eyelids heavy; he doesn't know he woke me when he slipped out of my bed and pressed his lips to my forehead.
The moment after my bedroom door clicks closed, I crawl out from under my warm sheets, peel off my floral printed fleece pajama top and pull out the Led Zeppelin t-shirt Steven had given me for my birthday a few months ago and slide it over my head and arms. I feel the goosebumps rise across my skin when I look out the window and see through the layers of frost the snow, blindingly white against the moon.
I jump back into bed and pull the sheets up to my neck. The clock on my night stand reads 4:30 am. Red had been getting up extra early these days, Steven had told me last week when he started leaving at this time. Red wanted to shovel and sand the driveway before leaving for work so that Kitty, and Steven suspected Eric and the rest of the gang, wouldn't slip in the driveway. So in order to get back to the basement unseen, Steven had to sneak out before dawn every day for the last week and a half.
Of course this meant that I now have to fall back asleep without him, in my vast, empty house. Laying in my twin size bed alone made me feel cold, and it wasn't from the wintry sight outside my window. It was the lack of another body's warmth and love. It was the lack of Steven.
And even worse, all the shadows that didn't seem so important when Steven was lying next to me suddenly made my skin crawl in the indistinct light from the moon. When I was a kid I was always scared of the monsters under my bed, but now alone in this mini-mansion, I was all too aware of the world's real monsters that lurked around wealthy neighborhoods. We had never been robbed before, but that didn't stop the fear from crawling up and down my spine.
So instead I pray for the time to quickly pass. I pray for the sun to rise. I squeeze my eyes shut and pull the collar of Steven's Led Zeppelin t-shirt over my nose, breathing in his smell, and suddenly the fear subsides and I feel myself get lulled into sleep. Today was Christmas Eve and I would see Steven again soon.
o-o-o
Steven wasn't in the basement when I got to the Forman house later that afternoon, which was quite disappointing. Because it was Christmas Eve, I had to pretend that I spent the morning with my mother who was really still in Mexico. But really I spent the morning at the mall, searching for the perfect gift for Steven.
So imagine my disappointment when the only two in the basement, Eric and Donna, didn't bother giving my beautifully wrapped gift for Steven a second glance when I arrived later that afternoon.
"Where's Steven?" I demand when both their heads turn back to the television. I carefully arrange the gift under the tree over in the shower before taking up residence in the lawn chair. "Hello?"
"I think he went to work," Donna says vaguely.
"He doesn't have work today," I say pointedly.
There is another long pause in which Eric and Donna both avoid my gaze. Losing my patience, I pull myself out of the lawn chair and plant my feet in front of the TV. "Where. Is. Steven?" I repeat myself, this time making sure that my words come across clearly.
"He's in his room okay?" Eric whines, craning his neck to try and see the TV behind me.
"Eric!" Donna hisses, slapping his arm.
"Look, it'll get her to leave us alone," he mumbles back at Donna before looking at me. "He's taking a nap so he said that if you should show up, to keep you out of his room so he can get some rest," he shrugs. "But the way I see it, better you bug him than bug us. You're his girlfriend."
For the briefest of moments, I am hurt. Did Steven think I was annoying? But then I realize how ridiculous a story this was and send a smirk in Eric's direction. "Liar."
"I called it!" Donna stands, holding her hands above her head victoriously. "Pay up, Eric."
I watch silently as Eric pulls his wallet out of his pocket and hands Donna a wad of cash. Then, triumphant Donna turns to me.
"Hyde told us to tell you he was napping so you would leave him alone. But really he's wrapping your Christmas present and we all know how you are about presents. So Eric and I made a bet. He said you'd believe the story and break down into sobs. I said that there was no way you would be fooled, not for one second."
I roll my eyes at the two of them, not even bothered to dignify their little bet with a response. Instead I swing myself around the couch, grab Steven's present from under the tree and march towards his room. There I find him not wrapping a present, but instead sitting on his bed reading a MAD magazine.
"Guess what it is?" I hand him the large, heavy box and sit next to him.
"No idea," he says, putting his magazine down.
"Ah, you're no fun," I pout.
"Okay, fine." Steven can't help but grin. "Is it tickets to see Led Zeppelin?"
"No," I respond. "You're bad at this game. The box is big and heavy," I explain, as though he couldn't tell.
Steven says nothing and I turn my head to look at his face. His eyes are looking down at his present, but I can tell his mind is a million miles away. I take his hand. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Steven says immediately. Then he reaches on the table behind him and picks up two tiny presents. "These are for you. I know it's Christmas Eve, but I want you to open them now," he says. I see him swallow.
I take one of the tiny boxes. It's wrapped in sparkly green paper dotted with candy canes and a red ribbon is wrapped intricately around it. "Did you wrap this?" I ask playfully.
"Nope," he chuckles. "Mrs. Forman did it for me this morning."
I turn my attention back to the present. I carefully untie the ribbon and then pull at the corners of the paper where the tape is. When the paper is gone, all that I see is a small brown cardboard box. I use my nails to pry open the top and inside sits five tiny lightbulbs.
"Um…" I pause. I am more confused than when Steven gave me his Led Zeppelin t-shirt.
I feel Steven shift next to me. "Oh, whoops," he says. "I gave you the wrong one first. Here, open this one." He hands me the second box, identical in wrapping to the first.
Inside this one sits a small nightlight. It's the kind that plugs into the wall with a small shade covering the front of the light bulb. This one is covered with a small crescent moon surrounded by a bunch of tiny stars.
"Oh," I say, the word falling out of my mouth. It was just a small nightlight. The white plastic of the switch had turned yellow with age, indicating that it was something that had been used before, and yet is was one of the most deeply personal gifts I could ever imagine receiving.
Steven stands up and shuts his bedroom door. "Here," he says, taking the night light from me. He plugs it into an outlet by his door, then pulls the string to the lightbulb in his ceiling and the room goes dark.
Except it's not dark. The night light scatters rays of light, shaped like stars across the entire room. Steven comes and joins me again on the edge of his bed. There are stars dotted across my skin, and when I look at Steven, there are stars illuminating his face. On his ear I can see the bottom of the crescent moon.
"What do you think?" he asks. I suspect a hint of nervousness in his voice.
"How did you know?" I whisper. That I am scared of the dark? I think, but I don't have to say.
"This nightlight was mine," Steven says. "It was the only thing that got me through some nights after my mom left before I moved in here." A star light bounces off the corner of his sunglasses, and another reflects right in one of his eyes. "The extra lightbulbs are just replacements. So what do you think?" he asks again.
Another gift from Steven. Truly from Steven as the gifts he gave were a part of him and who he was. I had never realized before, before the t-shirt and before this nightlight, what it really felt like to receive a meaningful gift. Of course it wasn't about the dollars spent, but the thought and meaning behind them.
"I…" I stutter. "I wear your Led Zeppelin t-shirt every night after you leave," I admit.
"Okay," Steven says flatly after a long moment. But I know he understands. "Anyways, I was thinking you could use this nightlight on the nights that I can't stay with you or have to leave early." In the dark I can hear his voice start to turn sheepish. "But also maybe some nights you could bring the nightlight…and the t-shirt…here."
"What?" I ask softly, curious if he was asking what I thought he was asking.
"Like tonight, maybe," he says abruptly.
I know how hard this must be for Steven. He didn't like to make a big deal about things he wanted, especially personal things. I can tell he is uncomfortable, but I know he was doing this for me because no matter how much he would deny it, he loved me.
I reach my arms around his neck, deciding to end his misery. "I would love to spend the night before Christmas right here with you," I tilt my head.
"Whatever," he mumbles, dropping his head. But a star illuminates the sheepish grin on his face.
"Just kiss me," I laugh, leaning forward to meet his lips in the starlight.