Hi, everyone. This is my Christmas present to you! A little one-shot; nothing more, nothing less. I originally posted it on the Captain Planet Club (CPC) on Christmas Eve 2006, but in the spirit of sharing, here it is.
Enjoy.
Luv Sarah
I do not own Captain Planet (nor is he even mentioned, for that matter!).
Monkeys and Mistletoe
"Why can't it be Christmas every day?" Gi asked, adjusting the tinsel lying over the branches of their modest Christmas tree. She attempted to straighten the base but her efforts proved futile, so she gave up and left it, standing lopsided in their small lounge room. "That'd be so awesome."
Kwame regarded her with an amused glance, watching her tinker with the branches. The African man chuckled, balancing his glass of Coke and sandwich in one hand and tossing several scatter cushions to the floor, before settling back into the comfortable lounge.
"You think so?" he said, changing the television station with his free hand, obviously unhappy with the Midday Christmas Eve selection.
"Hell, yeah!" she exclaimed, turning to face him with a devilish glint in her eye. "C'mon, Kwame. It's the one time of the year that everybody is nice to each other… well, mostly everyone."
He frowned, considering the statement thoroughly. "Traffic, long queues, screaming kids, overpriced food and gifts… you actually enjoy that?"
Gi scrunched up her nose at him, resuming her attempt to tidy the tree. "Scrooge…" she muttered under her breath. Kwame fixed her with a bemused stare. Gi was in an unusually hyperactive mood tonight.
"I heard that," he replied quietly.
"You were meant to. Who decorated the tree?" she asked, regarding the sparse ornaments with disdain as she hopped restlessly from one foot to the other.
"Ma-Ti… why?"
She scoffed, suddenly understanding why the decorations looked as if they had been hung by a blind ape with a distinct lack of fine-motor skills. "I should have known."
"I think your standards are too high, Gi." Kwame rolled his eyes, only half listening as the protestations begun. He yawned, stretching his free arm along the back of the couch. Changing the subject with lightning speed, he asked what Gi had planned for tomorrow.
Her face brightened instantly. "Actually, I was hoping you could drop me off on your way to Johannesburg. Mom and Dad are home!"
He grinned back, delighted for his friend. Gi's parents were marine biologists and were almost always on the road, traveling to far-flung places for research purposes. Christmas at home was a rare, but treasured occasion for Gi. "That's great! I'm leaving early though, so you'd better be ready."
She gave him the thumbs up, indicating that the time would be of no concern. "No problem. Are we dropping off anyone else? Ma-Ti?"
He shook his head, gesturing instead towards a solar-powered quad bike, visible through the open doorway and more specifically, the tattered sneakers peaking out from under the back wheels.
Gi raised her eyebrows, her lips forming a round 'O, mirroring the surprise she felt. "Are you serious? Is he really?"
Kwame nodded again. "Apparently…"
"Wow. He hasn't been home since …" She stopped, honestly unable to recall a time when the American had EVER spent his Christmas holidays with his family. "Wow," she repeated, peering out towards the red-head's shoes.
"Ma-Ti talked him into it," Kwame said, swilling the remnants of his Coke around the glass tumbler before placing it on the coffee table. "His father's sick, you know… liver failure. He only has a couple of years left apparently, so Ma-Ti talked him into making amends."
Gi's face paled somewhat, although her gaze never wavered from Wheeler's twitching foot, keeping in beat to the tune of his particular iPod selection. A strange look passed over her as she suddenly walked over and closed the door.
"What?" Kwame asked, somewhat alarmed at Gi's reaction.
"Oh, God. This isn't happening." Something had clicked within Gi's brain, an abrupt realization which left her stunned and bitterly disappointed.
Kwame sat upright and leaned forward, now unabashedly curious as she dropped heavily into the lounge beside him and buried her head in her hands. "Would you tell me what's going on?"
Gi's hazel eyes peered out at him through her outstretched fingers. She groaned, more in frustration than fear or pain. "You're not going to believe this," she muttered, shaking her head and leaning back into the seat. "Well, you've noticed how he and Lin have getting on a lot better, lately?"
Kwame nodded, aware that the fighting and bickering of the past had now been reduced to the odd minor disagreement. Linka seemed to be relaxing around the American, to the point of actually enjoying his company. It had taken six years and stubborn persistence, but Wheeler seemed to be cracking the Russian's stony wall of self preservation… or rather, her "deflector shield", as Wheeler so eloquently described it after one particularly nasty rebuff a few years ago.
Kwame smiled in spite of himself, remembering Linka's reaction to the 'deflector shield' comment. The angry shrieking and cursing had left a ringing sensation in the African's ears for days.
Thankfully, things were a great deal quieter these days, and it was hard to ignore the growing attraction between them, only this time, it was reciprocated by both parties. Linka's impenetrable persona had given way now to shy apprehension. Still, Kwame was no closer to understanding the source of Gi's frustration. He sat expectantly, waiting for Gi to continue.
The girl sighed. "Okay. I mentioned to Linka last week that the Yankee would be alone here over Christmas again, and I jokingly suggested that she should hang around and keep him company."
Kwame frowned again, raising his hands in a blatant "so what" gesture.
"She agreed!"
Kwame's head whipped around at this uncharacteristic news. "Are you kidding?"
Gi shook her head vehemently, her eyes scanning the area suspiciously, as if half expecting Wheeler to be eavesdropping from the window. Her voice lowered, a mere whisper as Kwame leaned forward, struggling to hear her.
"No, I'm NOT kidding," she said bitterly. "Everything was planned. Linka is visiting her Grandmother and Mishka tonight for dinner instead of tomorrow. She's returning in the morning with the Geo-Cruiser. Do you know how long I've been waiting for an opportunity like this?"
Kwame rolled his eyes. Gi's matchmaking prowess was legendary within certain circles, although Linka and Wheeler had been her only failure… thus far.
"What if Ma-Ti is staying behind? Do you even know what his plans are?"
"No," she admitted, "but I was ready to drag him away by the ears, if needed."
Kwame didn't doubt her. "I don't see what the problem is, Gi. Why don't you just ring Linka and explain the situation? I'm sure she can reschedule her visit."
"No. She'll end up chickening out completely. She's already freaking out about this. Besides, I can't disturb her. She's already out for lunch with Alr…" Gi trailed off, blushing furiously. "Aah… never mind."
Kwame blinked twice; sure that he had misheard what Gi had said. "What did you say?" he asked suspiciously, aware that Gi was now fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable about the latter revelation.
Gi looked away, muttering a string of unintelligible words.
"What. Did. You. Say?"
She met his eyes, a fierce blush creeping into her cheeks. "Do you remember that guy from the Sanding Institute? You know, the one who was considering donating some money towards the research project into the bowhead whale population?"
Kwame narrowed his eyes, trying to recall the young philanthropist they had met at a London Christmas party last week. "Yessss..," he said slowly. The image of Linka suddenly flashed within his brain, looking very pretty in her black cocktail dress and trying desperately to avoid Alrick's numerous advances. "Let me get this right… you forced Linka to go on a date with some rich guy she has no interest in, and now with Wheeler going home, she's going to be alone here for Christmas day?"
"Oh, God. What have I done?"
"You meddled, Gi. You always meddle," he said, a dangerous note to his voice.
Gi opened her mouth to reply, but he stopped her with the palm of his hand. His expression had changed dramatically, from somber disbelief to furious disapproval. "I cannot believe that you would do that to her, Gi."
Gi looked away again, shame evident on her face. "Why do you think my parents are home for Christmas this year, Kwame?" she said softly, her shoulder-length bob falling across her face and hiding the stray tear that she wiped away with the back of her hands. "They won't have to struggle for money next year. Alrick's donation will keep them going for several more!"
"At what cost? You've manipulated some poor Swedish guy AND your best friend into this charade." Kwame struggled to keep his voice level.
"She was just meeting him for a drink… half an hour, max," she whimpered, pushing her hair behind her ears in misery.
"Who's doing what, now?
Gi whipped around guiltily; unaware that Wheeler had walked in through the back door and was currently pouring himself a drink from the fridge. He set the glass down on the bench and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the surface of the marble counter-top. A dark smudge of grease stretched along his forehead, although somehow, the American was still able to maintain his effortless sense of 'cool'.
"Oh, nothing!" Gi exclaimed in a high-pitched, wavering voice. She giggled nervously, hopping off the couch and heading for the door. With impressive reflexes, Kwame blocked her escape by grabbing her wrist and pulling her back into the seat, fixing her with a dark glare.
"Fair enough," Wheeler said, eying them warily. "Uh… I'll be surfing if you need me." With a suspicious look over his shoulder, the American grabbed his drink and headed back outside, a blue towel tossed over his broad shoulders.
Gi sighed, the relief evident on her face, although Kwame was far from finished with her. He let go of her wrist and stood up, turning to glare down at her with something that resembled cold fury.
"You're going to fix this."
"But…"
Kwame held out his hand again, demonstrating the quiet authority that had contributed to his role of leader of the Planeteers.
"You are going to tell Wheeler what you've done… or I will."
As the afternoon sun glared through the windows, Gi sighed, steeling herself against the inevitable. She stood and followed Wheeler's retreating figure towards the sandy beach, her eyes downcast, feeling embarrassment, shame, and unwavering guilt flooding through her system.
Linka sat politely, elbow resting on the dinner table and head resting in her left hand as she drowned out the sound of Dominika's incessant chatter. She sighed, repositioning her head and fixing the young woman with a doleful expression.
And I thought the Yankee was bad.
The Russian smiled, momentarily forgetting the events of the day which had gone from bad… to worse… to downright catastrophic.
Dominika looked at Linka expectantly, startling the Planeteer out of her day-dreaming. "Ah… I'm sorry?"
"I asked if you have your own place?"
Linka shook her head, "Nyet, I do not own a home."
"A woman of your age? Wow, Daddy bought me my first home when I was nineteen. He always gets me the best…."
Linka scowled, once again drowning out the incessant, whiny voice while shredding her paper napkin and glaring openly at Mishka's fiancé. Mishka, on the other hand, gazed adoringly at the dark-haired beauty with the fine, delicate features and top-end clothes. A hand gently clasped her own and squeezed gently. Linka looked up to see her Grandmother smiling at her, as if sensing her dangerous mood.
Could this day get any worse?
The sight of Mishka and Dominika locked at the lips soon prompted Linka into volunteering to clear up the numerous Christmas dinner dishes. She stood and smiled at Nona on her way past, carefully carrying her Grandmother's best china plates into the tiny kitchen.
Linka placed them on the bench and lent heavily against the counter, mortified to see that her brother was yet to disengage from Dominikaor 'The Princess', as the Planeteer had begun calling her. From a wealthy family, Dominika had turned her nose up at the modest house, cracked china and especially, Mishka's famous sister. Mishka's fiancé seemed intent on pointing out Linka's inadequacies at every opportunity and the temperamental blonde was growing weary of the onslaught.
She scraped the leftovers into the trash, piling the plates neatly beside the sink, as her thoughts turned to the 'lunch date' she was trying so hard to forget. It had been a disaster. Linka hadn't felt comfortable about going in the first place, but Gi had begged her for this favor, aware that Alrick had taken a shine to the stunning blond. Linka had finally relented.
Alrick was intelligent, well built and confident, which were usually characteristics she was attracted to. Unfortunately, the negatives far outweighed the positives. The Swedish entrepreneur was also supremely arrogant, smug and controlling, right down to choosing her wine and food. Too shocked to admit that she was allergic to the tray of shellfish he had ordered for them, Linka had picked at a breadstick for the hour, nodding her head occasionally as he proceeded to talk about himself and his businesses. The more time she spent with Alrick, the more she longed for the boisterous, kind-hearted American who, she now realized, had been taken for granted for far too long.
She had politely declined the offer of coffee at his apartment and had stood, frozen with shock, when he had kissed her goodbye outside of the café, full on the mouth. More startling was the admission that she wished it was someone else's warm lips on her own. She had warmed to that thought, standing in the lightly-falling snow as Alrick's BMW had screeched away.
"Linka?"
She turned, sensing that Nona had entered the kitchen and was standing in the doorway, shielding Linka's view of the lovebirds in the next room.
"Da?"
Nona approached her granddaughter, who appeared somewhat lost in thought. She joined Linka at the bench, hobbling slowly and painfully. Linka frowned at her Grandmother's obvious discomfort. "Are you taking your tablets?"
Nona waved an impatient hand, obviously not as concerned about the arthritis as Linka. "They don't do much good in this weather, dear."
Linka nodded, her eyes narrowing as they fell upon Mishka and Dominika, who had retired to the lounge, leaving the cleaning up to Linka. "Do you realize that is going to be my sister-in-law, Nona," she said blandly, filling the sink with soapy water and sighing deeply.
"I'm sure she will come around, Linka."
"How can she say those things to me? She doesn't even know me," Linka whispered, her voice betraying the conflict within.
Nona glanced at her granddaughter fondly, seeing the young woman struggle to contain her emotions. "Linka, she feels threatened by you!"
Linka laughed bitterly, wiping a tear away from her cheek with blind fury. "Threatened by what? I have nothing, apparently!"
Nona moved forwards and took Linka in her arms, much like she used to do when she was a child. "You are young, beautiful, successful and you have done it all on your own, Linka"
Linka sniffed, returning the hug, but her mood had not improved. She continued watching Mishka and Dominika solemnly, a far-away look on her face.
"I have to admit, though," Nona pressed on gently, careful to phrase her words appropriately, "that I do not believe Dominika is the only thing troubling you."
Linka opened her mouth to reply, but remained silent. She hung her head as Nona continued, refusing to meet her grandmother's deep-set eyes. "I am an old woman, but I still see things. Your mother and father are gone...God rest their souls, I will soon be joining them, and it gives me no pleasure to see you alone."
"Boszhe moy, Nona," Linka hissed sharply, not quite believing that this topic of conversation had even been brought up.
"Linka, you are alone because you choose to be," Nona continued quickly, as if expecting Linka to disagree. "Let me finish, child, because I wish this out in the open."
Wishing the floor would swallow her up, Linka looked away, scalding tears gathering in the corner of her eyes. "That is not fair," she muttered, but was cut off once again.
"Linka, my darling. You know I love you. You have brought me so much joy over the years and I am so very proud of you. But sometimes, "she said, grabbing Linka's small hand in her own, "I feel that you are missing out on… certain opportunities because you are frightened of letting people in."
Linka pulled away, but Nona's grip was relentless. "I think that seeing Mishka and Dominika in love, happy and openlyshowing their affection scares you more than you realize, because in truth, you do not want to be alone."
"I do not need someone to complete me," Linka said quietly, but her eyes told a different story. Nona sighed, throwing a dishcloth at the unprepared Planeteer. It caught her shoulder and tumbled to the floor in a wet heap. Linka gazed at it, detached and forlorn.
"Mishka and Domi' have the spare room, Linka. Shall I make up the couch?"
"Nyet, Nona," she said in an uneven voice. "It is okay. I will return home tonight, I think."
"Are you sure?" Nona was clearly worried now, fearing that she may have overstepped the boundary. Linka finished washing a few more plates and attempted to smile, although it closer resembled a grimace.
"Da. Thank you for dinner, Nona. It was lovely."
Nona smiled uncertainly, haunted by Linka's cold voice. "You're welcome, child."
It was well after midnight when she landed the geo-cruiser on the strip. The anger and resentment had faded to a dull, hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, which she did her best to ignore. Ma-Ti had beamed her several hours ago, inquiring about her plans for the night. He had seemed surprised when she said that she was on her way back to the island. Aware of her despondent mood, Ma-Ti had kept the contact brief, leaving Linka alone again with her muddled thoughts.
After shutting the system down, Linka pushed the vehicle door closed and trudged towards the common rooms, swinging her handbag idly in the cool breeze. The sliding door had been left open and she turned slightly, squeezing through and closing it behind her. The television was on, the sound at a low level as the images bounced and flickered off the walls. Something sharp grazed her arm and she recoiled, forgetting that the Christmas tree was so close.
"Chyort voz'mi!"
"That's enough profanity from you, young lady!"
Her mouth opened in surprise, searching the dark room for Wheeler's figure. Turning a lamp on, she spied a pair of bare feet hanging over the edge of the arm rest, the rest of his body hidden by the back of the sofa.
Walking over, she lent her forearms against the top of the sofa and peered down at the American, her bad mood beginning to evaporate, as it usually did these days in his presence.
"If you had the day I have had, you would be swearing too, Yankee," she chastised, too tired to put any real malice into the statement.
He stretched his arms above his head and sat up, leaning his chin on the backrest close to her arms. Clear blue eyes regarded her solemnly and her heartbeat quickened, just a little.
"I though you were staying at your Nona's tonight?"
She recoiled slightly. "Nyet."
"What happened, babe?"
My own Grandmother thinks I'll be an old, toothless spinster.
"Mishka is getting married," she sighed, picking at a loose thread embedded within the fabric.
"To that prickly ice queen?" he asked, grimacing at his only vague memory of Dominika, but Linka seemed preoccupied by something else and didn't confirm his suspicions.
"Do I shut people out?"
The question took Wheeler completely by surprise. He blinked as Linka rounded the couch and sat down heavily, not even giving the American time to move his legs. "Ow."
She raised herself slightly for a moment, allowing him to withdraw his limbs from underneath her. She was looking at him expectantly, still waiting for an answer to her question. To be honest, Wheeler was slightly unnerved.
"Uh…I think I'm gonna' plead the fifth amendment on that one, Lin," he said, knowing that nothing positive could come from a truthful answer.
Wheeler's refusal to answer all but confirmed Nona's harsh words. Linka nodded, leaning back and letting the knowledge wash over her.
"I don't mean to."
"What?"
She sighed, meeting his wary gaze. "Shut people out. I do not mean to."
"I know that."
Linka grinned shyly, reaching forward and squeezing his hand before returning it to her lap.
"More specifically, I do not mean to shut you out, either."
The American raised his eyebrows and smiled back at her, but said nothing, merely regarding her with fond curiosity.
The ensuing silence was companionable, broken only by the loud television infomercials playing between ad breaks.
"How was your date with whale-boy?" he asked innocently, the wry smile still evident on his face.
Linka's gasp was audible even over the TV static. She stared at him, willing a host of frenzied words of explanation to spring forth. Nothing came to mind.
"How did you…"
He chuckled and ruffled her hair affectionately, leaving his warm hand on the back of her neck.
Wait a minute… why is he not angry
"Gi told me everything..."
Linka shook her head, clearly confused by his calm, even amused reaction. "Gi had better enjoy Christmas with her parents this year, because the man was… a durak," she grumbled.
The American laughed. "That's nice to know, babe. I thought I had some competition, for a moment there."
Linka's cheeks reddened considerably. He squeezed her shoulder gently, before tangling his fingers within the soft hairline at the nape of her neck. She tilted her head forward, letting the wavy locks fall over her face, enjoying the contact immensely.
"Nyet. You have nothing to worry about, Yankee," she murmured drowsily as she contemplated Nona's words and Christmas Day on the island… alone, with the American. A thrill ran through her as numerous scenarios entered her mind. She felt unburdened, free of the self-imposed restraints which had effectively stripped her of the ability to trust. To love.
A soft screech startled them. Linka jumped slightly, leaning in to Wheeler as he searched for the source of the sound. Picking up one of the scatter cushions that Kwame had dropped earlier, he threw it towards the roaming monkey. Searching for leftover scraps, Sutchi shrieked as the well-aimed cushion made contact. The monkey muttered angrily in Wheeler's direction, rubbing it's behind before darting back in the direction of Ma-Ti's room.
"Damn fur-ball."
"That was cruel!"
"You try being nice when the little bastard eats one of your favorite shirts," Wheeler replied indignantly, removing his hand from Linka's neck and glaring in Sutchi's direction.
"Da, well… he would not eat so many of your things if you put them away, Wheeler," she added teasingly. "Maybe you should spend tomorrow cleaning your room."
"Ah…" he said, knowing that he had to tell her. "I'm actually going to Mom and Dad's tomorrow, Lin," he said, apprehension evident in his voice as he met her stunned gaze. "Dad's sick, Mom's been whining about me never visiting them, so…"
"I…ah…" Linka stammered, her face flaming once again. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat, attempting to sound as normal as possible. "That… that is wonderful, Wheeler. When was this organized?"
Dyer'mo.I am going to kill Gi
"Last week. It would have been nice to stay behind. I kinda' like having the place to myself at Christmas, but…" He studied her crestfallen expression, watched her rein-in the feelings of disappointment and humiliation threatening to pierce her thinly-veiled layer of control.
She seemed to win the battle. Looking over at him, she smiled, although the gesture didn't quite meet her eyes. Her voice was husky… pleasant but flat. "Well, say hello to them, Yankee. I'm sure they'll be pleased to see you."
He nodded, toying with the idea of telling her how much he really knew. After all, Gi had filled him in on everything. The poor girl had been hit with two verbal serves today. After Wheeler had finished berating her, Gi had returned to her room, dejected and very upset.
"Yeah…" he replied, watching as she stood and bade him goodnight. She vanished into the dark hall, just as a burst of inspiration hit him. Jumping up from the couch, he crept quietly along the hallway, catching up with Linka at her bedroom door. She turned, surprised to see him.
"Come with me!"
"What?"
He persisted, a massive grin lighting up his face. "Come with me, tomorrow!"
She paused, dumbstruck, her hand still clutching the door handle. "To your parent's house?"
"Yeah! C'mon, babe. It'll be fun! We can pretend you're a high-priced escort."
"Wheeler!" She hissed, her eyes widening at the last comment.
"Okay, scrap the last part," he said, his enthusiasm now utterly infectious. "Seriously, you think I wanna' go alone? Dad'll drink and pass out on the sofa within an hour and Mom will just nag me until I leave."
She frowned, considering the request. "I do not know… they may not want me there."
He snorted. "Are you kidding? My Dad thinks you're hot... apparently."
"Bozhe moy, I do not think I can handle two Sloane men…"
Wheeler wasn't willing to take no for an answer. Ignoring her protestations, he reached out and placed his hands on either side of her shoulders, effectively blocking an escape.
"Please?"
"You should be with your family, Wheeler," she pleaded, recognizing the mischievous glint in his eye.
Leaning in, the top of his head brushed something hanging from the top of the door way.
He looked up and saw the sprig of mistletoe dangling innocently above them, probably one of Gi's numerous efforts. Linka followed his gaze and groaned, the implied threat suddenly evident.
"Please?"
"Wheeler," she gasped warningly, grasping his forearms, "Don't you dare…" Her voice betrayed her though, his proximity causing a pleasant tingle.
He chuckled, clearly amused at her flustered state. She didn't push him away however; or yell, or hit, or recoil. She stood passively against the door, her head lowered and a small smile gracing her full lips.
"I'll only ask you once more, babe…"
She looked up at him, her nose grazing the tip of his own and for one hot, smoking moment, they locked eyes.
"Okay. Da, I will go."
"Damn," he muttered, standing back and shaking his head, clearly a little flustered himself.
She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand endearingly. "When are you leaving?"
"Uh…when someone drags me out of bed in the morning, I guess. G'night."
She waved, watching him amble towards his own room. She stood there against the door for a moment, feeling content and newly invigorated. Lost in thought, she didn't hear the footsteps fast approaching until it was too late. She looked up in surprise as a pair of hands gently grasped either side of her face, tilting her head up even further. Before she had the chance to speak, he bent down and pressed his lips against hers. A blinding jolt of heat coursed through her as he pressed his body against her own, effectively squishing her against the door. Linka felt herself relax within his embrace, returning his kisses with a hunger she had never experienced.
It was over as quickly as it had begun. Wheeler pulled away, pinching the tip of her nose with a content grin. He pointed towards the mistletoe above them, before turning and walking away once again towards his room, a definite spring in his step.
"It's bad luck if you don't, ya' know," he called over his shoulder, referring to the myth of Christmas mistletoe.
"Maybe in your culture!" she laughed, "Certainly not in mine!"
She stood, still slightly breathless from the brief contact and the effect it had caused on her heart rate and breathing. He waved and disappeared, leaving Linka alone and somewhat breathless with anticipation about what Christmas day would bring.