A/N: This piece can be read like a companion piece or a 'missing scene' from Whispering Her Name but you don't need to have read that story for this to make sense. All you need to know is, it's December 1995, a week before Christmas, and Gene has informed Alex that all he wants for Christmas is a Buzz Lightyear doll. Rated T for language and possible body parts dropping to the floor with a wet thud as the riots grow worse…
~xXx~
"…These scenes will be familiar to parents up and down the country as chaos rules the high street. One week before Christmas and shops cannot cope with the demand for this year's must-have toy. This store sold out of Buzz Lightyear dolls ten minutes after they opened their doors this morning and will not be getting another delivery before January. There will be a lot of disappointed children throughout the UK this Christmas – and a lot of parents who have some explaining to do…"
Alex sighed and threw her hands to her head. She knew. Oh boy, she knew it all too well. She cursed the moment that Gene had sent his 'letter to Father Christmas', a crudely scribbled, sexually explicit note that he'd deposited down the back of her top a couple of days earlier. It had taken her several moments to work out what it said, seeing as how a rather pornographic diagram had taken up most of the space. Eventually she worked out that the note covered three main areas; number one, that Gene thought he'd been a good boy that year, number two that he wanted a Buzz Lightyear doll for Christmas, and number three that there would be various appendages appearing in her stocking as a thank-you for receiving said item.
"God, Gene, why can't you just ask for something normal?" she sighed as she stared at the riot scenes on the TV, "a life-time's supply of scotch? Car accessories? Edible underwear?"
No. It had to be a Buzz Lightyear doll.
Alex was going out with the most overgrown six year old in the world.
~xXx~
"What am I doing here?" she groaned. It was four in the morning and she'd had to sneak out of bed before Gene awoke. The buzz of the throng around her was making her feel quite unnerved. She was fine with crowds when she was dispersing them… being part of one was another matter.
"Hey! Oof!" she gasped as an elbow knocked the breath from her lungs.
Somewhere behind her a chant started up;
"What do we want? Buzz Lightyear! When do we want him? Now!"
She tried to ignore than chanting but it grew so loud and insistent that to her utter shame she found herself joining in without even realising it. She cursed herself for it. Bloody peer pressure, she thought.
What time was it now? She was losing all sense of time. In fact, life itself was losing meaning. Suddenly her job, her life, her relationship…. It was all a blur, like it belonged to some other person, some other time and she'd lost her whole identity. She was part of a gestalt entity now; a writhing beast that existed only to fulfil the desire to purchase a Buzz Lightyear doll. The beast would fade and die when the store's supply had been depleted, like an animal whose life was ebbing away. But for now it was all-powerful.
There was movement. Action. A commotion. She knew the time was coming closer.
This was like facing Layton's bullet all over again, except somewhat scarier. There was more at stake than her life this time. It was Gene's Christmas wish.
Her adrenaline was building and her palms were sweating. How many shops had she been to? How many parents had she begged to hand over their precious purchases? How many mothers had sympathised with her;
"Oh, I know how you feel… my son is desperate for one of those… it's going to be a very sad Christmas at home this year…"
She wanted to scream, "Yes, but you have the excuse that your child is SIX! You aren't being it for your slightly immature other-half who won't even leave a glass of his scotch out for Santa Claus because he believes he's a greedy bastard and shouldn't be drinking and driving."
Or flying, in this case.
There was a click and a roar. This was it, the doors were open and things were moving…
She was moving… moving without walking… dragged along by the beast of many legs. It was like being swept out to sea. Just as wet, too, as perspiration poured from the brow of every mother and father determined to make their child's Christmas one to remember.
I have to do this, Alex told herself, trying to get a grip on the floor again to push through the crowd, I need to get this toy. My relationship depends on this.
She wasn't going to spend Christmas with a sulking Gene.
Suddenly there it was; the wall of Buzz Lightyears, many stories high. People were climbing on top of each other's shoulders, feet were scrambling up backs and onto heads, there was screaming and crying and a certain amount of blood spilled. There was hair flying, bits of torn clothing floating down to earth and the occasional limb dropping to the floor with a wet thud.
At one point Alex was sure she heard someone cry, Eat my dust, you motherfucking toy rejects as someone accidentally got into a pile of Woodys by mistake.
And then it happened; like a gift from the gods, like manna from heaven, like it was meant to be. The box fell into her hands – the precious cargo that she never thought she would hold in her trembling arms.
The euphoric scream of 'yes!' that she let forth was a mistake. It alerted the crowd to her Buzz Lightyear status.
"Shit!" she cried. She had to move fast. Scrambling over the heads of angry mothers and fathers she fought her way furiously to the counter where terrified shop assistants in riot gear were ringing up the toys of the lucky few. She dived over the head of a random person, thrust her cash at the shop assistant and clambered out of the shop before anyone could stop her.
"Yes!" she cried triumphantly, "I did it! Gene, your Christmas is complete!"
"Ahhhhhh-ha-ha-ha-ha," a random child pointed and laughed in her direction, "she's got Woody!"
"Hahahahahahahaha!" a crowd of youths joined in the laughing and the pointing and Alex looked down to see that she wasn't holding the prize she thought she had acquired. There in her hands was the toy she did not want to be taking home with her.
"Oh, you stupid bastard!" she cried at the box, "You're no use!" she kicked the box far away, causing a small child to cry in distress.
"Mu-u-u-u-u-u-um, she killed woody!"
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a crowd of her uniformed colleagues gathering to attempt to calm the situation as the final Buzz Lightyear sold. Watching them force their way onto the dying beast of legs and bodies an idea came upon her. It was illegal, it was immoral and it was the kind of thing she would never have done in a million years.
Gene was going to be very proud of her.
The first smug-faced mother with a bag that passed through the doors found herself grabbed and handcuffed to Alex, the determined detective's warrant card flashed in her face.
"You're under arrest for –" she hesitated, "unlawful possession of a dangerous toy!"
The woman turned to her with wide eyes.
"What?" she cried, "dangerous?"
"These Buzz Lightyears fail every safety standard in the country!" Alex told her. OK., so it was a white lie, but she was sure several people had already lost their lives in the riot so that constituted a dangerous toy to her.
"- but I only bought the thing!" the woman protested, "I didn't make it!"
"Have you never heard that possession is nine tenths of the law?" Alex raised an eyebrow.
The woman's terror flashed through her eyes.
"Oh god," she cried, "but I was only trying to get my daughter the toy she wanted for Christmas!"
Alex shook her head with a sigh.
"If you knew how many times we've heard that…"
"B-but what should I do?" cried the woman, "I need to get home! I can't go to jail!"
Alex raised an eyebrow.
"Well," she said, "if you hand over the evidence then there'll be nothing to charge you with."
The woman looked at her with tearful eyes.
"B-but my daughter… it's all she wanted…"
"Do you want to see her mauled at the hands of a malfunctioning toy?" Alex asked.
"God, no," cried the woman.
"Do you want to eat your turkey in jail this year?"
The woman looked down.
"No," she whispered.
Alex held out her hand.
"Bag please," she said with a smile.
The woman swallowed and closed her eyes. She had no choice. She really had no choice.
"Fine," she whispered and the bag changed hands.
Alex could almost swear there were angels singing 'hallelujah!' in the sky. The moment she received the bag her whole body seemed to grin. It had been a long and traumatic battle but finally she had her prize; the must-have toy of the year. Buzz Lightyear was in her grasp and Gene would have the Christmas he'd always dreamed of.
Until next year, she thought to herself. Another must-have toy. Teletubbies. Surely Gene was too old for those? She stared at the doll in the bag and thought twice about it.
Time to put a Dipsy on pre-order, she thought, just to be on the safe side.
This was one trauma she wasn't intending to go through again, no matter what she was promised in her stocking.
~xXx~ The End! ~xXx~
Merry Christmas Everyone! x