Ho Ho Hell

Patrick, Rated T for mild language and innuendo.

Patrick's take on holiday madness. Sequel to Black Kat Friday.

*******

Expectations

Everyone wants a piece of you. Hands are outstretched, bells are rung, and the point that people need stuff year round is lost on the red-cheeked matrons and loose limbed old guys who set up their pots everywhere. The day I see Walter Stratford ringing a bell and pointing, I almost spit my entire latte on his pile of crumpled dollar bills.

I turn my pockets inside out and only a dusty penny comes rolling into my palm. "Here you go," I say brightly, tossing it in with a merry clank. Ignoring his glare and muttering about my latte (free, made by one of my minions), I walk blithely into the market and I am rewarded by one last backward glance that catches him shaking a fist at me.

Ho, ho, hell.

I'm with Kat on this one. The holidays suck.

The only good thing that came out of Thanksgiving weekend was my entanglement with her. I don't dare call it a date, because dates mean I have to utter the C word out loud. Nope, no way, can't do it. But those heated moments remain fixed in my brain, and by the time a week has passed, I am ready to ride the crazy train.

The sex thing is no big deal to me, but I sense that her trusting me is a huge deal, and I don't take that lightly. So how do I tell her that, without stuffing my two left feet into my big mouth? Every time I try to find the words, she and the moment are long gone.

See, I've never had to please anyone but myself and Aunt Rachel, and no one else has mattered enough to work myself into a lather. But on those rare occasions when I'm less than shallow, I freely admit that this girl has gotten past my defenses.

Damn, how could I let this happen? I sit staring at the rain trickling down my window and let it mesmerize me for awhile, but all too soon I groan as the clock approaches 7.

Time for another day in paradise.

Bliss Bunnies

Bianca falls into step with me as I walk toward the school. "So, you and my sister…"

Her fishing expedition falls flat as I bite into my bagel and raise my eyebrow. "What of it?" My locker is fast approaching and I blot out her puppy dog eyes with my locker door.

She peeks around the door at me. "You two hooked up."

Christ, this is all I need. "Does she know you're here?"

Her blonde mane whips my cheek as she shakes her head. "She'd murder me."

I lean down and whisper, "Not if I get to you first."

Bianca rolls her eyes. "I'm not scared of you, Patrick."

My locker door slams with a little too much force. "Maybe you should be."

I try to slouch past her but her talons dig into my arm. "Not so fast. I need to know the score."

Kat approaches with Mandela in tow and so far she hasn't spotted us. "Why?" I duck behind the lurking members of the basketball team and nearly swear when she follows me.

"Because if I'm covering your tracks, I want to know why."

My escape window is closing, so I shove past the lanky forward and say, "Then ask your sister."

*****
I walk into the courtyard at lunch and am surrounded by elf hats and tinsel garlands draped everywhere. As I back away from this horror, I nearly collide with one of those fake aluminum trees. My size 13's trip over a rotating, four color light, and my sudden desire to stomp the crap out of it is checked by the arrival of a bevy of bliss bunnies, cooing and smiling as they make their way around the quad and hand out candy canes to everyone.

One of them is a fling from last year, and she runs her hands down my arm before sliding an extra piece of candy into my reluctant fingers. I see Bianca watching, and with a phony smile, I lob the candy at the nearest trash can and grin when it bounces off and beans one of the elves.

"Ten points." I give the crowd a wide berth and am almost home free when I am flagged down by Cameron the Lonely Giant.

"Girl trouble?" I guess as he follows me outside.

"How did you know?"

I tap my forehead. "I'm psychic. Want me to read your tea leaves?"

He smiles weakly. "She's dating Joey Donner."

Airheads deserve one another, but that's not helping Cameron. "Don't worry. Sooner or later, she'll get tired of him."

"It doesn't look that way to me."

"Trust me. When the shine is off, she'll see the real you." And let's hope I was far away when he exploded into orbit.

"You think so?"

"I know so." I pull out my Raymond Chandler book and when he lingers, I add, "Do you mind?"

He may have said a few other things, but my mind is already immersed in The Big Sleep and I barely notice when he shambles back inside.

Biting the Hand that Feeds

Rachel is big on giving back, and always signs me up for meal and plant delivery for the local Unitarian church. I don't mind, except it gets a bit difficult to balance poinsettias on the narrow seat of my bike. On the Sunday before Christmas, she tosses me her keys and informs me that I'm delivering two dozen ham dinners to some of the city's downtrodden (and downwind from the frothy mansions in Kat's neighborhood).

I return home and discover I have the place to myself, which is perfect for what I have planned. My cool cat Simon and I trot down cellar and stand side by side as we peruse shelf after shelf of vinyl. It's all alphabetically arranged, and I soon have a pristine copy of Yesterday and Today by the Fab Four. I highly doubt Rachel has touched this in a decade, and she'll never notice if I liberate it from her collection.

I take the stairs two at a time and have the record wrapped in a jiffy. It is soon hidden in the deep reaches of my closet, and I am thinking that maybe this Christmas will be a little better than the last one.

Baby, you're a star

The present sits on my desk for two days before I call in the troops. Rachel sits down on the end of my bed. "It's like this. I hooked up with this girl on Thanksgiving weekend."

She clutches my arm. "She's not pregnant, is she?"

"Naw, nothing like that."

"You have crabs," Rach announces with wide eyes.

I throw up my hands in frustration. "No STDs, it's just…it was her idea."

"Well that's good, right?"

I dig my fingers into my hair. "Maybe. It's just…I think it meant a lot to her."

"And not to you?"

The window in front of me gave me a moment to catch my breath. "I can't get her out of my mind."

"Then you have your answer. Go out and get her."

"It's not that simple. She's grounded, and I can't get near her."

"Sure you can. Take that album you snatched from me, and give it to her already."

Ah, crap, she's on to me. "You sure?"

Rachel snatches the present and hands it to me. "You're wasting time."

So that's how I find myself on Kat's doorstep on Christmas Eve, and no one is more surprised than she is.

Walter beats her to the door and we exchange pleasantries about how unwelcome I am there.

Kat offers up some platitudes about it being Christmas and Wally backs off, giving me a short window to present my case.

She pulls me to one side and demands, "What the hell are you doing here?"

I nudge her elbow. "Manners."

"Sorry. What the heck are you doing here?"

My body is at red alert when a smile creeps out onto her lips. I watch as she licks her lips and am almost close enough to catch her tongue with mine. With a husky murmur, I say, "Thought it was about time to wear the warden down."

She leans in and I can almost taste her arousal. "Anything else?"

The scrape of her nails through the crook of my arm nearly sends me over the edge as I am forcibly reminded of those same fingers digging into my back. Oh, yeah, there is a lot more I want from her. But for now, my present will have to do. "Yeah, this is for you."

Kat looks it over with a critical eye and her grin widens. "Thanks. You want to join in on the fun?"

Spending any amount of time with the keep it in your pants guy is not on my agenda, though I did just say I wanted to wear him down. "No, thanks. I should probably go."

She looks over her shoulder before turning back to me. "You sure?"

I am definitely sure that crashing their cozy family circle is not cool. We move toward the door and when Wally looks away, I try to kiss her but end up bussing her chin. With a smirk, we rearrange ourselves and this time, I mold my lips to hers and release weeks of pent up desire into it. The kiss deepens as I open her mouth under mine, and feel her surrender for only a few seconds. We break apart and I mutter, "Keep your window unlocked."

*****

Unwrapped

Hours pass and I return with the telescope (hand built), which I set up quickly and efficiently. The window is open and I slide through at the perfect moment. "Hands off," I say as she reaches for the vinyl.

Kat jumps back a little. "Thought it was a present."

I move in so close that we are nearly melded. Her eyes drop and her tongue is practically hanging out as she ogles my skintight tee. With a grin, I remind her, "To be opened on Christmas morning."

She checks the clock. "Which is right now."

I take up residence in her desk chair and pull her into my lap. It surprises her, but from the way she is inching even deeper into my embrace, my gesture is not unwelcome. "So what are you waiting for?"

I taste her neck and she throws back her head with a moan. Turning her in my arms, we resume the interrupted kiss from earlier, only now it's hot, sucking, and extremely wet. My hand creeps up her thigh and she stuns me by saying, "This."

"You sure?" I ask, letting my fingers trace the edge of her panties.

"Oh, yeah." Kat holds up her arms and my heart practically stops at her beauty. Her voluptuous curves threaten to spill out of her camisole, and I watch as she shimmies out of it slowly, her dark eyes never leaving my face as she stands before me. It's not my habit to gush, but God, she astounds me. Her hands catch mine and as we kiss, her flannel bottoms quickly join the growing pile on the floor.

Kat is all over me with her hands and mouth, and I nearly fall out of the chair when she moves against me with unmistakable intent. I let her rip off my shirt and she begins to devour my chest, lips gliding across my pecs before kissing her way to my waist. It is not long before my jeans and socks have parted ways with my body and we are going at it full bore, ravenous and greedy as we pound at each other.

We sleep for awhile, and then I show her the stars, letting my hands explore her constellations while she looks at deep sky objects. It is close to dawn when I get ready to leave, deciding to give her some food for thought. "I could fall for you," I say simply, knowing it's been the truth all along.

"Really?" Her head cocks as she smiles and she looks good enough to eat all over again.

I touch the side of her face. "Definitely."

We stop at the window and her hands are all over me, making it damned hard to leave her once again. "Thanks for making this the best Christmas ever."

I flash her favorite smile and quip, "And many more to come."

Religion

After I graduated from the Catholic grammar school Rachel forced on me, I skirted the C&E crowd and became an agnostic. At the very least, it let me stay out late on Saturday night and sleep in on Sunday morning.

Rachel makes small noises every year about attending late day Christmas Day services at the Unitarian church she frequents, but I always find reasons to stay away. This year should be no different, but she gets my attention when she says, "There's a new family that comes every week. The father delivers babies, and I think his two daughters are close to your age."

My book slips from my grasp. "Yeah? Are they cute?"

She swipes at my hair affectionately. "If I say yes, will you join me on Christmas?"

"Sure. Do I have to suit up?"

"Only if you want to impress those girls."

That was girl singular, and I will enjoy the look on her face when she sees me dressed to the nines.

Rituals

This late day service was invented for slugabeds and vampires. It gives me time to shower, drag a comb through my curls (pointless), and pair my deep red silk shirt with my black funeral suit. To impress my singular girl, I even spit shine my shoes to perfection. When all is said and done, my reflection reveals the same sloe-eyed dude with perpetual bedhead.

But hey, no one can fault the cut of my suit (expensive Italian wool, sent duty free by my cousin Lucia) or my uncomfortable dress shoes. I even scraped the auto grease from under my nails to impress Daddy Dearest. He can diss me all he wants, but he can't call me a grease monkey. OK, maybe he can, but his daughter sure digs watching me all oiled up and sweaty.

We drive to the church in Rachel's oversized junk buggy and pull up next to a Mercedes in a cloud of blue smoke. I am particularly cheered by the disgusted looks thrown at us by the snooty denizens of this place. They seem real offended by the Save the Earth bumper stickers plastered all over Rachel's Caddy. It becomes even more surreal when the Stratford trio drives into the spot next to us. Wally drives a wood-sided minivan from the Reagan era, and seems proud enough of his ride to wipe off some bird guano with his formerly pristine white handkerchief.

They don't see us right away, but as we squeeze through the narthex, my elbow jostles Bianca's accidentally. She looks over and when she puts it all together, her lips curve upward in merriment. I see her nudge Kat, who looks around her sister and stiffens at the sight of me. Her hair is up and she is wearing a deep, crimson dress that flatters her even more than the little black dress from the dance. As she takes me in (with an approving smile), Walter's florid face swims into view, and he is not pleased. Short of pointing his favorite finger in my face, there is nothing he can do about Cheech and Chong arriving at his church.

He nods a greeting at Rachel and then stares at me pointedly. There is no mistaking the family resemblance, and I grin at his apparent confusion. We find a seat behind them, and I am delighted to find myself directly behind Kat.

*****

This place is nothing like St. Luke's, where I spent my formative years. It is welcoming, and warm, but a bit too PC for my tastes. Not wanting to offend Rachel, I pretend to take part in the service, but nearly cringe at the off key version of Silent Night that is performed by a chorus of blonde midgets.

Parents coo and video cams come out by the dozens as a Christmas pageant is forced on us. I get distracted by Kat's shoulders shaking, and I smirk when she buries her face to hide her mirth. Bianca is less amused and bumps her sister's arm to silence her.

That only does the trick until the children's choir opens their maws and chirps out a rockabilly version of We Three Kings that seems destined for a future Dr. Demento collection. It is so horrid that I nearly bite my tongue off before I completely lose it.

Kat dares to look back at me and smiles widely at my expression. She points at her Dad and I catch a hint of tears trailing down his cheeks. I look over at Rachel and see that she too is enraptured. I can't blame the holy water, so it must be something in the rarified air.

The service finally draws to a close and the hordes gather for some mulled cider and eggnog in the lower hall. I admire Kat from a distance and Rachel catches me gawking as I slurp at some spiked (hell, yes) cider. "You could have told me," she chides gently.

"Would you have believed me?"

Rachel sighs as a stormy faced Walter comes sailing straight for us. "Keep a lid on it, Pat."

I slip away as they get caught up in an animated conversation and slowly make my way toward Kat. She is smiling politely at some overstuffed guy with a bow tie, but I see her eyes glazing over with boredom. I push my way to the snack table and grab the last brownie from under Bow Tie's nose. He frowns at my rudeness, but from Kat's standpoint, I seem to be the life of the party. I catch her gaze over his shoulder and incline my head toward the exit.

Five minutes pass before she joins me. "Could you be any more obvious?"

I hand her half the brownie. "You complaining, Stratford?"

Kat pops it into her mouth and enthralls me when she licks her lips. "Of course not. So what's your excuse for showing up here? You don't strike me as the spiritual type."

"Neither do you," I counter with a half smile, neatly sidelining her question with my comment.

She smiles tightly. "Dad's trying out different churches."

"Ah, so you're not cradle to grave Unitarians?"

"Nope, strictly Baptist. And you?"

"Nine years of boot camp at St. Luke's."

Kat nods. "That explains a lot."

I roll my eyes. "Sure it does. So when's Warden Wally letting you out of jail?"

Her face brightens. "I'm officially free."

"Early Christmas present?"

She shrugs and a slight flush colors her cheeks becomingly. "Maybe."

I lean in and whisper, "Good thing he didn't catch me unwrapping you."

Kat's soft skin invites my touch, and I can't resist running my fingers down the velvety slope of her shoulder. She shivers and her arousal is plain through the thin material of her bodice. "Not here," she finally manages to croak out, her breath catching when she sees the way my eyes are dipping down and memorizing her tantalizing curves.

A strand of her hair has fallen loose from her bun, and I tuck it behind her ear. "Then come out with me on New Year's Eve."

"Like a date?"

She could call it whatever she wanted, but I was desperately hoping it would end with us in my bed. "Sure. My aunt can cook for us, and we can hang out and watch bad movies."

Kat flashes a smile. "Sounds like a plan…for platonic friends."

I catch sight of Rachel and Wally and know I have to cut this short. "You didn't ask how the night would end."

Before she turns to join her father, she runs her finger across the top of my hand. "Should I bring a toothbrush?"

I trap her finger between two of mine. "Definitely."

*****

The Ending is the Beginning

The week between Christmas and New Year's drags on interminably. I am beset by work woes and swear at my damned trig homework at least twenty times a day. Fire is too good for my math textbook, and I decide that dropping it off a freeway bridge is more fitting. But since my sweet aunt is the one who'll end up paying for a replacement, I limit my revenge fantasies to my journal.

Kat and I text back and forth, and she makes me laugh with her pithy observations of life at chez Stratford. Those bits of type become a lifeline, and we chat far into the night about any and all subjects.

I keep my personal tragedies out of it, but she soon knows that I am way past remedial reading when I let it slip that James Joyce is way overhyped. That gets her rolling on a literary convo that clues me in on her feminist leanings and political stance (so far to the left that she is off the grid). I give nothing away during these exchanges, and decide to keep it waiting in the wings for her visit.

That day dawns bright with promise, and draws me and Jess down to the shore with boards in hand. We catch some big rollers from an incoming storm, and it's a wild ride for the rest of the morning. He drives off to pick up one of his college ladies and I drive home to get ready for my big night with Kat.

*****

Kat arrives just before 6 with an armful of grocery bags. "Grab this before I drop it," she orders, and I smirk at her imperious tone.

"Yes, your Majesty. Shall I lick your boots too?"

She snickers and removes a bagful of lettuce and a rainbow of vegetables. At my raised brows, she explains, "Even cavemen need their greens."

I cough the word Geico into my hand and her grin lingers. "Hmm, I don't see a toothbrush anywhere."

Kat stops washing off vegetables and turns to face me. "Yeah, about that…I came clean with my Dad."

All manner of horrifying thoughts parade through my head. "You did what?"

She touches my arm lightly. "Don't sweat it. I only said that we're dating."

"That's supposed to reassure me?"

"Try looking at it from my perspective, will you? I've been lying and sneaking around for over a month. I can't do it anymore."

I fold my arms and lean against the counter. "How did that work out for you?" I ask cynically, knowing no good could ever come of facing off with the warden.

Kat's shrug does not bode well. "He's giving it some thought."

"Which means you're back to playing James Bond," I point out helpfully, knowing she is painfully aware that I am far from boyfriend material.

"Pretty much."

"Cool, I always wanted to switch bodies with Mandella," I quip.

That earns me an eye roll. "So let me answer your phone if it rings."

"Sure. When does your furlough end?"

"I have to be back before the ball drops, or I'm toast."

******

The salad is chopped and ready to mix and match with the big batch of food Rachel left behind for us. "I hope you brought your appetite. Rachel's chili will strip the paint off the walls, and her pumpkin cheesecake is guaranteed to put hair on your chest."

Kat stares at me and I look down at the patch of fur spilling out of my tee. "I can see that," she says appreciatively.

I feel my face start to flame at her frank appraisal, which is something new for me. "Umm, it's not catching."

"Good to know." I can hear the smile behind her words and busy myself with setting out bowls and silverware for our impromptu feast.

I inhaled everything she put on my plate, including some tabouleh that had healthy stamped all over it.

"Wow, never thought I'd see the day," Kat exclaims when I ask for seconds.

I don't have the heart to reveal that Rachel is the queen of healthy food. The black bean chili and pumpkin cheesecake come straight from her Weight Watchers cook book.

As I wolf down my plate of seconds, Kat asks, "Anything else I should know?"

"All in good time, my pretty."

Her answering grin tells me she gets the Wizard of Oz reference. She gazes at our spread and comments, "You trying to fatten me up, Verona?"

My return compliment has a twist of Mark Darcy inside it. "Naw, I like you, just as you are."

*****

Kat dives right into my DVD collection and pulls out Rear Window and Roman Holiday. "Let's watch these two."

"Are you kidding?" I hold up Better Off Dead and Weekend at Bernie's. "These are choice."

"That's so last decade."

More like two, but who's counting? "So let's make out instead," I suggest with a smirk.

She hits my arm with a pillow. "Later, One Track."

"Ooh, is that a promise?"

Kat ducks her head with a smile. "How about Unfaithful?"

It's lying in plain sight on the coffee table, along with a pile of Hitchcock classics. "Sure. Have you seen it?" I ask casually.

"With that rating? Not likely."

"Let's fire it up." It was time to set Kat free from her cloistered existence.

I look over from time to time and she is starting to squirm at the content. When we get to the scene where Diane Lane is flying solo on the train, Kat's mouth is slightly open, but the steamy bit in the restaurant where the two lovers go at it in a stall has her riveted. "You're not playing fair." Her voice is strangled with want, and that by itself arouses me.

"Hey, it was your idea."

She moves closer and runs her hand down my arm. "So it was. Want to show me your etchings?"

My lips quirk at the question. "Thought you'd never ask."

*****

Kat and Simon immediately make friends and he curls around her feet as she looks at my rather extensive library. "Wow, you actually got through War and Peace?"

"And lived to tell the tale," I reply. "But I prefer lighter fare."

She smiles at the sight of Watership Down. "What, no Girl in a Swing?"

"It gives me nightmares."

That wasn't strictly true, but it makes her laugh. "Wimp."

"Sssh, if that gets out, I'm ruined." I give her space to roam around with Simon.

Kat peers into my cave of a closet. "Is this where you keep the bodies?"

"Naw, but if you check the fire pit, you might find some trace evidence."

"Let me guess, NCIS fan?"

"Only by proxy." As in, I watch whatever Rachel has on the screen.

"Then it must be Dexter all the way."

I roll my eyes. "Naw, I watch Vampire Diaries so I can brush up on my skills."

Her smile is reward enough, and I decide that banter might be my salvation. If talking is all we do, that's fine by me.

******

We sit side by side on the floor as we listen to Death Cab. Her hand steals into mine as she shifts closer. "You're lucky."

I lean my head back against my arm. "How do you figure?"

"No annoying kid sister, nobody censoring what you watch or read…shall I continue?"

It's time to let her in. "You're right, but I missed having a childhood. My parents died when I was 7, and it forced me and Leo to grow up too fast."

Kat touches my arm at this unexpected revelation. "Older brother, I take it?"

"Yeah." Leo was far too much like my father, whose favorite activity was drowning his sorrows.

"So where do all the rumors come from?"

"Leo served time for grand theft auto, and it grew from there."

"I still think you're lucky."

I screw up my brow. "Even after hearing that tale of woe?"

"Sure. Look who well you turned out, despite your circumstances."

Warmth flares through me at these words, which I never hear from anyone but Rachel. The school administration thinks I'm a screw-up, and I've started to believe they are right. "Thanks." I lean over and kiss her cheek.

Kat catches my face with the back of her hand. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, especially those mouth breathers at Padua."

The mixture of tenderness coupled with her fierce demeanor is a total turn on. "Noted. So, about those etchings…"

******

We cuddle for a long time under one of Rachel's afghans. Both of us are fully clothed, and I am the perfect gentleman. But having someone that smells as good as Kat fitting so perfectly against me is a losing battle.

I wrap a sprig of her hair around my fingers and rub it against my face. "I hope you grow it out again."

She taps my hand. "Thought you liked the new style."

"It's fine, but not as sexy as that hair hugging your waist." I'd entertained quite a few daydreams of her rising over me with that gorgeous mass of hair barely hiding her juicy bits.

Kat stretches and cocoons even further into me. "You really think so?"

Her arm is straight up and one of her luscious breasts threatens to overflow her tank top as she arches her back. My mouth goes dry as I hope and pray for this miracle, and when she stretches out her other arm, gravity steps in and answers my prayers. "Hell, yes."

"Oops." She suddenly notices and starts to stuff herself back in place.

"Don't." Kat lets her hands fall away and her breathing quickens when I lower her other strap and kiss my way from shoulder to elbow. She is half in and out of her top, and I add, "Let me help you with that."

I roll down her shirt and unfasten the remaining buttons. She shrugs it off and looks at me with a saucy smile. "Your turn."

I am perfectly happy to strip for her, and gratefully accept her helping hands that range all over my chest. "Urmm," I say in my throat as she writhes against me. "Slow down."

My plea is lost in the moment and it quickly escalates into something so primal that in the aftermath, I feel as winded as if I'd run a 100 yard dash at breakneck speed.

"Wow," is all Kat says as she rolls off me. "That was..."

I sling my arm around her waist and pull her close. "Amazing."

Comfortable silence envelops us for a long beat and I touch her hair to reassure myself that this is real. "Happy New Year, Patrick," she says as her fingers entwine with mine.

I know she has to go soon. We both get dressed and I follow her out to her car. The dew has set in and her car is ripe for drawing. I trace some words into her back window and she smiles at what I have set down.

The ending is the beginning.

Kat starts up her car and motions me over to her open window. "And many more to come," she says before flashing a killer smile and driving off into the night.

The End

Note: The ending here refers to the end of the year, and the beginning refers to the start of their relationship. Happy New Year everyone.