Title: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas
Rating: PG
Summary: Christmas Eve with Connie, Guy, and their friends and families. It's complete fluff, kids.
Feedback: Hit the review button. Go on, I dare ya.
Dedication: For Cimmy.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. I promise.
Special Thanks: to the Eden Hall RPG over at LJ. I didn't have to come up with everything myself. Thanks guys.
Story Notes: I know. It's June, nearly July. You wonder what the hell I am doing writing a Christmas fic? Well,this was Cimmy's Christmas gift. It's over six months late. It was on time, then I lost it in a computer crash three days before Christmas…it was weird. Anyway, I rewrote it. It's complete fluff, but I like to think of it as well-written fluff. Enjoy. (I have edited and re-uploaded this story for grammar on March 18, 2008. No content changes have been made.)
"Guy Germaine! Go wrap your friends' gifts, we have to leave in half an hour!" my mother hollered at me.
"Mom, they don't care if their gifts are wrapped or not," I said.
"Oh for goodness sake, it's Christmas, Guy, wrap their presents!" my mother commanded.
What can I say? I'm a lazy ass. But reluctantly, I started wrapping presents. Carefully cutting and folding the paper, tying ribbons and bows, I wrapped my friends' gifts for when we'd see them later tonight. I labeled each one as I finished with it. First Peter's box with the new leather jacket, then Charlie's box of chocolate with the gift certificate to Jan's store, then Jessie's new AC/DC and Black Sabbath CDs, and then the small, square velvet box with Connie's gift inside.
I'm not sure how we met exactly, but we shared a playpen when we were little, and our parents affectionately nicknamed us "The Diaper Squad." Charlie Conway, Peter Mark, Jesse Hall, Connie Moreau, and I have done everything together ever since, including Christmas and other holidays. Their families are my extended family. One big, happy, occasionally psychotic family.
The tradition is that we all get together at somebody's house for Christmas Eve and dinner. After dinner we sing carols and open gifts and participate in other traditions that take place on Christmas Eve. Our families usually take turns hosting it, and this year it's at Jesse's. Our whole families go, since all our parents are friends. Christmas Day is usually reserved for whatever family comes to visit, but a lot of the time we teenagers will end up somewhere other than our own homes, whether it be at somebody else's home, or just at the park.
The paper was on Connie's box and now just the little red bow…done. Just in time.
"Guy! Are you read to leave yet?" my mother abruptly yelled from the kitchen.
"Yes, Mom, I'm ready, chill out," I said as I walked into the kitchen with my friends' gifts in a shopping bag. "You should find out if Lauren is ready yet."
Lauren is my little sister. She's four years younger than I am. I'm seventeen, she's thirteen, and it takes her forever and a day to be ready for anything.
Well, my mother yelled up the stairs to see if Lauren was ready, and surprise, she was not. So we were fifteen minutes late by the time we got to Jesse's.
"It's cold this evening," my sister said as we stood waiting for someone to open the door.
"It's winter in Minnesota, what do you expect?" my dad asked her. Dad wasn't exactly in the Christmas spirit. Last night he had a tad too much spiked eggnog, and knocked over our Christmas tree, screwing up a number of the ornaments and the lights, and we'd been giving him grief about it all day. It wasn't so much that the particular ornaments that shattered on the floor were of great meaning, but more that it was hysterical to watch, even if we did have to pick up tons of broken glass afterwards.
John Hall, Jesse's father, opened the door before Dad and Lauren really got at each other's throats.
"Hi everybody," he smiled and let us inside. The Hall home wasn't that big, in fact, it was rather small, but somehow, it seemed to expand to the point where there was just enough room for everyone.
It's really a good thing that the house could magically expand, because there was quite the crowd this year, and they all seemed to be in the kitchen, living room, or dining room.
Jesse's family is here, of course. His parents are John and Cindy, and he's got an older sister Jackie and his younger brother Terry.
Peter's the only one from his family that ever comes, and he spends Christmas day with Jesse's family, too. Jesse's mother was always very kind to Peter. His family is about as dysfunctional as it gets. His parents are useless and his older brother's a son of a bitch. He's got a younger sister too, but I don't see her often and he doesn't really talk about her much. I think she's in boarding school.
Connie's family always comes. It's Connie, her dad, her older brother Taylor, and her younger brother Shawn. Her mother's a "recovering" junkie that her father divorced years ago. Connie doesn't see her much and doesn't really like her when she is around.
Charlie's here as well, with his mother and Coach Bombay. I don't know when his mother divorced his previous step-father, though I think it was a couple summers ago. Charlie never really liked him, and was extremely pleased when his mother started dating Coach Bombay again. I'm not sure exactly when that happened either. Some time between last Christmas and this one, though.
It's nice on Christmas Eve because there are so many people that everyone always has someone to talk to. Taylor spends time with Jackie because they're around the same age. Lauren and Terry are in the same classes and are good friends, and since both of them think of Shawn like a younger brother, they include him their festivities. Our parents talk and cook and drink together, which leaves the rest of us: Charlie, Jesse, Peter, Connie, and me. Just like always.
I said hello to all my friend's parents, and dropped my gifts in the big pile, except for the little box which held Connie's gift. I stuck that in my pocket, and then knocked on the door to Jesse's room, which opened nearly immediately. Jesse grinned at me from the doorway. "Well look what the cat dragged in. Hey Guy," he smiled and stepped to the side to let me in. Peter and a red-cheeked Charlie both waved and Connie stood up to come kiss me hello.
"Hi Guy," she smiled, standing on her tiptoes to reach my cheek.
"Hey gorgeous," I greeted. Connie's actually very pretty. 5'4, petite, with the same long brown hair she's had since she was a kid. She's also got very brown eyes and clear, porcelain skin. We've been going out again for a couple years without incident. I'm not really sure why we broke up in the first place. I think it was just the stress we were under that first year at Eden Hall. It's gotten much easier though, now that we're all on the Varsity team. Technically we're the Warriors, but at heart, we'll always be the Ducks.
"Awww, how cute, lovebirds," Peter teased us as I hugged her.
"Shut up, Peter," Connie and I said in unison as I threw my old, green hat at him and Connie went to sit down again.
Peter grinned and continued sipping his drink. Every Christmas Eve since the age of six, the five of us polished off at least a gallon of eggnog, though for the past two the eggnog has contained vodka, whiskey, and various other forms of alcohol because Jesse has a connection some place. He brings it. Glancing at Charlie, I realize that liquor explains Charlie's rosy cheeks. It's so easy to tell when he's been drinking.
"Want any, Guy?" Jesse asked, holding up a red plastic cup.
"Sure," I answered him, and walked across the room. "What are we trying this year?"
"Rum," Jesse said. "I tried to get…what's it called…from that Christmas song…"
I had no idea what he was talking about, but Charlie said, "Wassail?"
"Yeah! That's it, wassail!" Jesse said as he poured me a glass of eggnog, added some rum, and then handed me the glass, "I tried to get some of that…but I couldn't find any."
"Captain Morgan's it is, then," I said, holding up my cup. "Cheers, guys, Merry Christmas."
Jesse nodded, and held up his own glass. "Merry Christmas," he said and downed what was left in the cup. Connie, Charlie, and Pete followed suit.
"How do you like this year's eggnog?" Jesse asked me.
"It's pretty good, actually," I said. "At least compared to last year."
"Well, anything's better than last year's vodka," Charlie said, standing up. "Ugh, that was so bad."
"The fish made it worse. I couldn't deal with it," Connie said. "It was my year to try the fish, to see if it had improved any. It hadn't. The vodka didn't help."
"That brings up a good point," Jesse said. "Who's trying the fish this year?"
"Not me," Connie said quickly. "I had to do it last year."
For whatever reason, Christmas Eve usually involves a fish dinner. We've found that over the years, the fish isn't so much for eating as it is to show we have a sense of tradition. Nearly everyone in the house sticks to the chicken cutlets, meatballs, sausages, and the pasta with the squid-free sauce. The person who eats the fish is usually the person that cooked it, and they only eat it for the principle of the thing.
But every year, one of us takes a bite of the fish. It's our tradition to see if our parents' tradition improves from year to year. It never does. Nobody wants to try the fish, including me, but swallowing the last of my eggnog, I stood like Captain Morgan on the bottle of rum Jesse had on his dresser. "I've got a little captain in me," I said. "I'm feeling kind of bold. I'll try the fish this year."
Connie giggled a little and Charlie saluted me. "Aye, aye, Sir!" he laughed.
"Hey Jess, fill me up," Pete said, passing over his cup.
"Easy, Petey, we don't want a repeat of last Christmas Eve," Charlie grinned.
"Shut up. That was a one time thing," Pete said, as Jesse handed him his cup back.
"It was gross," I said, remembering Pete puking all over the bathroom. Christmas Eve was at my house last year. I had to clean up the bathroom. Sticky brown Pete barf is not one of my more precious Christmas memories.
"It was a one time thing, I promise," Pete said. "It was the vodka in the eggnog. It was a bad combination."
"I think it was you just downing what was left in the bottle, Petey" Jesse grinned.
"Hey, hey, when did it become Pick-on-Petey night?" Pete complained.
"Relax," Charlie said, slapping Pete's shoulder. "We're just playing with you, Pete."
"I know, I know. Abuse on Christmas Eve. How fitting," Pete stuck his tongue out at Charlie.
Before Charlie could come up with a smartass remark – probably about something Pete had done to him in the past – somebody banged on the door. "Jesse!"
"Yeah, Ma, what is it?" Jesse called.
"Dinner!"
"Okay, we'll be out in a minute!" Jesse called again. Then to the rest of us, he said, "Finish your drinks, hurry up. I'm not supposed to have this bottle of rum in my room!"
We drank the rest of our spiked eggnog and tossed the cups in the wastebasket as Jesse closed the rum bottle and hid it in one of his draws before he led us into the dining room.
"It's getting harder and harder to fit everyone in here," I heard Jesse's mom complaining under her breath.
This is actually quite true. None of our families have particularly spacious homes, and shoving sixteen or so people into one room at one table isn't easy.
But we survived dinner with few incidents. I tried the fish successfully without getting sick, though it wasn't any better than the last time I'd tried it…three years ago. Nobody dropped any valuable family heirlooms (like last year, when Charlie's mom dropped her grandmother's gravy boat). Peter didn't throw up in the bathroom…but then again, he hadn't downed a bottle of hard liquor either. Sure, we knocked over a few glasses of soda and spilled some wine, dropped a little food on the carpet, and nearly dropped the chicken cutlets all over the floor, but it wasn't a bad dinner. Not bad at all.
We continued running through our Christmas traditions after dinner, which included singing some carols along with Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole, and other holiday favorites, putting the star at the top of the Christmas tree, and opening presents over coffee and dessert.
Jesse and Terry were in charge of handing out presents while everyone else ate cake and drank coffee (Petey's was Irish coffee, but that's another story entirely) and they easily began flipping out presents from the big pile in the front.
"Okay," Terry began, "This one is for Mom, from Casey." He tossed the gift over to his mother.
"From Charlie to…Pete, heads up!" Jesse threw a box half way across the room and nearly knocked down one of his mother's glass angel statuettes.
"Jesse Michael and Terrence Robert, stop throwing the presents!" Cindy said in that voice mothers do so well. You know, that one where you know you're in trouble if you do it again.
"Don't call me Terrence!" Terry said angrily.
"Why not? It's your name!" said Cindy.
"Yeah, well, it's awful. I'm Terry!" he said. Jackie and Jesse were beside themselves with laughter. "Shut up! Just cause you two got normal names…"
"Relax, Terrence, relax…" Jesse said, grinning easily.
"Jesse, if there weren't this giant pile of presents between us, I'd hit you!" Terry exclaimed.
"Lucky there is then," Jesse smirked. "By the way, Terry," he said holding up a package and shaking it, "This one's for you."
"Who's it from?"
"Me!" my sister said emphatically before Jesse could answer, raising her hand.
"Oooh," I teased, "Terry and Lauren sitting in a tree –"
Lauren blushed, but Terry said, "Guy, I'll knock your teeth out."
"Merry Christmas to you too," I grinned as Jesse handed me a package.
I was pleased with my gifts. I always am. There's really not much to be upset about. We've all been friends for a long time; we know what the others want and what they like. I got a new pair of really nice headphones from Jesse, a new pair of hockey skates from Charlie, a new TI-83 Plus scientific calculator from Pete which I desperately needed for math class, and a bottle of my favorite cologne from Connie.
When I opened Connie's gift and looked over to grin at her I caught her looking at me sadly, and she quickly looked away.
"I'm going out for some air," I heard her say to her father before pulling her coat on and going out the front door to sit on the stoop.
I wondered what I'd done wrong until I remembered the little box in my pocket with the tiny red bow. I pulled it out, put on my own coat, and moved to open the door.
"Awww, lovebirds," Pete teased again.
"Shut up, or I'll knock you senseless when I come back," I said, stepping outside and then closing the door.
It was very cold, especially compared to the warm coziness of the house, and the air cut like a knife across my face in spite of the fact that the wind was gentle. I took a deep breath and released it, watching the wisp of fog disappear before sat down next to Connie on the front steps. "I've got something for ya," I whispered in her ear.
She looked at me and smiled, "I knew you couldn't have forgotten, I knew it!"
Handing her the small package, I watched as she opened it, undoing the little red bow and then delicately tearing off the paper with the twinkling Christmas decorations providing a soft glow that was warm with romanticism and Christmas spirit. I smiled on the inside when I thought of Jesse complaining to me about being the one to put them up; testing each string of lights, replacing broken bulbs, getting rid of old ones and hitting his own hands with the hammer instead of the nails he wrapped the lights around. All this thought in a matter of a few seconds – it seemed like a long time, because I just wanted to see Connie's expression when she saw what was inside the box.
The small velvet box contained a small, emerald and gold four-leaf clover pendent, with a gold chain. It cost me a fortune, even on sale – most of the savings I'd had from the past four months at my job, but it was worth it when her eyes lit up like stars in the clear night sky.
"Awww, Guy, it's so pretty," she smiled, holding it up to the lights so it gleamed.
"I'll help you put it on," I said, "Hold your hair up."
She lifted her hair and I hooked the clasp behind her neck. I straightened it out a little and she put her hair down.
"It's so pretty, Guy, thank you," she said, wrapping her arms around my neck and burying her face in my coat.
"You're welcome, Connie," I said, hugging her back tightly. "Merry Christmas."
"Yeah," she smiled, "Merry Christmas."
She kissed me gently then, and I felt a little warmer than I had just a second ago. I don't know if it was the fact she was close or just the general warmth I feel every time I realize I'm in love with her, but I was warm then, and felt better than I had all night.
When she pulled away from me, she buried her face in my coat again, and I looked over her head and in through the window, where Charlie was throwing Christmas cookies at Pete for some reason or another, and the look on Jesse's mom's face was priceless when Jesse made a gold glove catch of one of her statuettes that had been bumped off the coffee table by Connie's little brother Shawn. I laughed a little bit.
Connie looked up at me. "What?"
"Nothing, I was just watching everyone through the window. They're even funnier when you can't hear what they're saying," I grinned, still watching my extended family through the window.
Connie laughed and turned to look through the window too. After about a minute, she said, "Let's go back inside, it's cold out here."
"Yeah," I agreed, realizing I could no longer feel my nose.
"Thanks for my present, Guy. It's really beautiful. It must have cost you a lot," she said, with a tinge of guilt in her voice.
"Not really," I lied.
"You're a terrible liar," she smiled.
"I know. But it was worth it. Your face was priceless."
"That's why you buy me gifts? Shock value?" she grinned.
"Yeah, that's it," I chuckled. "My one goal in life."
"Great," Connie smiled again, and pulled my hand as she started walking toward the door. "Come on, let's go in."
"All right," I followed behind her.
At the door, she paused. "Pete's going to tease us mercilessly, you know," she said. "Because we love each other so much."
"Let him tease us. I can take him," I smiled.
"You mean we can take him," she said.
"Of course," I smiled, "We can take him."
"I do love you, Guy, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know it. I love you too, Connie."
"Always and forever?" she asked.
"Always and forever," I promised. She kissed me again for who knows how long before we finally broke apart.
"Good," she said. "That's just the way it should be."
"That's just the way it is," I assured her. "No need to ever worry about that."
We heard a crash from the other side of the door. "Ah," said Connie, "There's our one Christmas disaster. Here I was thinking we weren't going to have it. I wonder what broke this year."
"Hopefully nothing that was worth too much," I said.
We heard Jesse's mother yelling at Terry about being careless while walking with coffee pots. We both started to laugh, and I pushed open the door. Together, we walked back into the house.