A seasonal one shot inspired by a review by Willow Edmond, so Willow, this one's for you! Enjoy!
As he stood on the stepladder, he was acutely aware that one wrong move would break him, or the tree he was trying to dislodge from the attic, in half.
"C'mon...you stubbourn...piece of...crap...damnit!" he exclaimed as with a mighty pull the tree dislodged itself and fell past him, on to the floor. "For fucks sake." At least it didn't knock him from the ladder, he figured, getting back down. He caught a look at himself in the mirror, and scowled, re-adjusting his bandanna. If only Ceridwen could see the Mighty Undertaker now. Sweating his ass off fighting with Christmas trees just to make the house look right. He contemplated ringing her and telling her he'd break a deal with her, that they would pretend they were with each other for the season, and then when it was over they could go back to wanting to kill each other. Yeah right, and I'd have that over my head for years to come, he told himself. No, he was going to have to put up with the kid for the Christmas holidays, like it or not. He bent to pick up the tree, and the box of baubles and crap that he would have to hang on it, and groaned as the sound of broken plastic reached his ears. Opening the box of decorations, he saw everything but the angel for the tree was broken. The tree must have hit it in the fall, he reasoned. Hell, some of them were at least ten years old. With a groan, Undertaker realised he was definitely going out today, and he'd be heading to the mall to get some more Christmas decorations.
As the motorbike roared in to the car park, he was acutely aware that people would probably recognise him. Couldn't really be helped, he reasoned, he had to shop just like everyone else. As he got off the bike, he saw a young woman in leathers appreciatively eyeing up the bike as she sat on her own.
"Nice ride. Mind if I snap a picture?" she called as he got off, gesturing to the bike.
"Knock yourself out, sweetheart. Not so bad yourself." He replied, removing his helmet, and glancing at her bike also, and then her, with an appreciative eye.
"Thanks. She's my baby." The woman replied, running a hand over the petrol tank in a loving manner. She looked him in the eye and flashed him a smile. "Christmas shopping, Taker?"
"Yeah...you gonna fan girl out on me?" he asked, braving himself for the onslaught. He'd been recognised, now the fans would converge. To his surprise, the woman laughed.
"Me? Hah, you're a funny man Undertaker." She said, unzipping the top of her jacket. "Besides, I'm more of a Roman Reigns kinda girl." She added, gesturing to the top beneath the jacket, which was revealed to be a Roman Reigns t-shirt. "I'd hurry if I were you, they won't have many black or purple decs left." She added, before getting off her bike and walking off towards the mall. Did I seriously just get dissed by a hot chick for Roman fucking Reigns? He asked himself as he followed a little distance behind her. Yes, yes you did. Answered his mind, and he snorted at himself in disgust, before mentally comparing a list of everything he needed to everything he wanted. And the latter was mostly whiskey.
Oh my god, how much fucking tinsel do you need for a tree? And why is it sold in so many variations? I just want purple and silver! He wasn't enjoying himself what so ever. The whole left hand side of the aisle was covered in tinsel in various shades, the right was covered in every trinket you could possibly stick a bit of string in and hang. That, and the god awful Christmas music from Hell was ringing in his ears. All he wanted was to get the hell out of there, but knowing Ceridwen was coming, he couldn't forget decorate. He'd never hear the end of it. As he tried to figure out quite why the idea bothered him so much, he grabbed two lengths of the darkest shade of purple he could find, and two of silver, and shoved them in the basket. He then headed to look at the baubles, and stood amused as a husband and wife duo perused the selection. Or rather, the husband was looking enthusiastically at anything that sparkled, and the wife looked on in disgust.
"Seriously, can't we just have plain baubles? Do you know how much glitter stuck around last year?" she said.
"But it's Christmas, sweetheart, everything needs to sparkle and shine, everything is glittery at Christmas!" the man said, picking up a gingerbread house that was festooned with white glitter.
"I'll fucking glitter you in a minute, if you don't pick something asap so I can go back home. I was in the middle of an important mission, you know.." she grumbled, making Undertaker hold back laughter as he picked up some multi packs of baubles.
"Oh honey, Assassin's Creed will be waiting for you when you get back. Now how about these two?" said the man as Undertaker walked away. He got a short distance away and heard a yelp, and a few select curse words from the man, followed by a barely audible threat from the woman. Undertaker shook his head and carried on.
The tree decorations were now sorted. He'd even endured the wait at customer service, waiting as an old lady decided to be the human version of The Grinch, and berate the poor girl behind the desk because she had been waiting for two minutes too long. Damn it he hated people this time of year. All he wanted was to know if they stocked something in particular, and could it be ordered in? But no, Grinch Lady was being an absolute cow. It took everything he had not to tombstone her and send her to Kane. As she stomped away, the poor girl looked like she was going to burst in to tears, and a colleague took over for her. He had a brief moment where he wondered if this is what Ceridwen looked like after they argued and fought, with only The Sheild around to see it. His thoughts were scattered when the man now serving him asked if he could help, and so he ordered what he needed to.
Twenty minutes later, he had his bottle of whiskey, ready to join the others he'd collected. Should he get Ceridwen a present, he asked himself. What would she like? Why the hell am I even bothering to ask myself this? He thought as he passed two young girls wearing Feral hoodies. Why should i even be bothered? Surely the sooner this was over with, the better. He thought back to his conversation with Kane, and again bitterly wished Paul Bearer was still with him. He needed to think, and so headed to one of the coffee outlets on the third floor of the mall, hoping it would be much quieter there. He was right, it was practically empty, and he got his drink and found a seat with little problem. He'd been staring in to his cup for what seemed like forever, when a voice spoke to him.
"Fancy seeing you here." Undertaker looked up, and gave a half smile as the figure placed a packed bag on the seat next to him, and sat down also.
"Wasn't exactly expecting to see you either, Rattlesnake." He replied as the figure laughed and took a sip of his own drink.
"Doing your Christmas shopping before the girl comes over?" Undertaker looked up and fixed his friend with a glare that didn't quite meet his eyes.
"Heard about that huh Steve?" Steve nodded, stirring his drink with a stirring stick.
"Heard it, saw it, know exactly what's going on." Steve said. "You two are head over heels for each other, but you won't admit it cause you're a pair of stubborn bastards that refuse to give in." Undertaker gave Steve a look that clearly said if they were anywhere else, he'd get chokeslammed.
"You'll make me choke on my coffee in a minute, Austin." Undertaker replied, his eyebrow arched in a disbelieving manner. "All she wants is my approval. I've seen it myself."
"Approval is one thing. Getting behind that brick wall of yours is another. I know you, Taker, and I know how you work."
"If you say so, Steve, if you say so."
The tree was up. The angel sat haphazardly on the top, and Undertaker was about to start the task of hanging tinsel and baubles. He hummed a little to himself as he worked, singing his own versions of some Christmas carols.
"Deck the malls with boughs of Holly, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lah. Rode through Walmart on my Harley, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lah..." he sung, as he finished the tree, his third glass of whiskey, and began to wrap the present he'd gotten her. He hoped she liked it, he wasn't about to go get anything else this late in the Christmas season. The crowds would be horrendous. Satisfied with his work, he slid the present under the tree, and sat down to pour himself his fourth glass of whiskey. Next thing he knew, he had to have dozed off as a voice was calling out to him.
"Undertaker...my Undertaker..." it called shrilly and eerily familiar. He opened his eyes to see a familiar figure stood in front of him, and almost yelped in surprise. Paul Bearer was in his living room.
There was silence for a while, as undertaker tried to make sense of what was going on, and assumed he'd drunk too much and was still dreaming.
"Ooooh yes, My Undertaker, I'm here!" Paul said with glee.
"What are you now, the ghost of Christmas past?" asked Undertaker before he could stop himself.
"Well, he had a prior engagement. You're looking troubled of late, Taker. What is it? Ceridwen giving you problems?" he asked, with a smirk.
"She is the fucking problem." He replied as Paul sat down.
"Then tell me. Tell me everything, Undertaker." He said, and before he could stop himself, Undertaker launched in to the whole disaster. He told Paul every word said between them, every action, remark, the lot.
"I see the problem, Undertaker. I see it all too well."
"Then please tell me what it is, Paul, because I really can't see it right now." Undertaker asked, scowling.
"The pair of you are exactly alike. Which makes you perfect for each other. If you'd care to chance it. But, as neither of you will admit you like each other, you won't be able to get along for more than five minutes before you bite each other's head off." Paul explained.
"She hates me. I was her idol, and now she hates every inch of me." Undertaker replied.
"Yet, she still wants your approval!" Paul said with a smile. "You know it, everyone can see it. So stop being stubborn and do something about it already." Undertaker shook his head.
"It's not that simple, Paul. It's really not. I can't just...undo what I've done. I've been horrendous to her. And she's not exactly been nice towards me. She tried to smash my skull in, for fucks sake." He said, and before he could help himself, he smiled fondly at the memory.
"And yet, you cared enough to protect her career." Paul said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. Not that Undertaker knew where the second glass had come from.
"Well, yeah, because she's got talent, i can't just let her waste it." Undertaker replied, and got the look from Paul he'd seen so many times. The look that said he just didn't believe him one bit. "Don't give me that look Paul. I'm trying here, ok?"
"Trying to what, ignore how you feel? I've told you in the past with other Diva's to just ask her out already. Why are you so afraid to feel again?" Paul asked.
"Afraid? Fuck right off, I am not." He replied as Paul poured him another glass. He handed it to Undertaker.
"If you say so. Cheers." Paul said, raising his glass. Undertaker raised his own glass, and tipped it back. Barely had the last drop passed his lips than he passed out.
When his eyes forced themselves open, it was the following morning. He looked over to where Paul had been sat, but there was nothing to show a second person had been in the room. No extra glass, no marks on the table, nothing. He decided he had to have dreamt the whole thing, but yet, a nagging feeling in the back of his head said different. Then he caught sight of the tree.
"Oh damn...that's a fucking mess that is," he said to himself. As much as he hated Christmas, he wasn't going to make himself look stupid with a tree looking...well, there weren't words for it, he decided. He shook his head to clear the sleep fog that was swirling within, and wondered what the hell he was going to do. As he tried to marshal his thoughts, he got a text message. It was from Ceridwen, stating she had just boarded her flight. No pleasantries, just "On the plane, leaving airport at 12.30". Undertaker pulled himself together and decided the tree would have to wait. He needed a shower and change, and would have to pick her up. After last night, the tree could most definitely wait. Merry Christmas Undertaker, he told himself as he walked up the stairs to his bathroom. Merry fucking Christmas indeed.