(A/N-Special thanks to Lynn for beta reading this. And also thanks to all who read, review, follow and fav this story. You guys are amazing!)
Four had been sitting at his desk going over some reports Laurel brought in when his computer made the little noise it makes when he has a new email. Not intending to read it unless it looked like it was something of earth-shattering importance; he looked up at the screen. He was surprised to see the email was from Tris. He sat there for a few seconds wondering if he wanted to open it or not. Finally curiosity got the better of him and he did. She was wishing him a good day and telling him to ring bells. He had no idea why she wanted him to ring bells, so he asked her why. Several more seconds later he got another email that said,
"Every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings." Four completely forgot about the work in front of him and he stared at the screen. he still didn't get it. He decided to forget about it and re-focus on his work. That lasted less than five minutes before he was looking at the computer again. Finally, he cut and pasted the sentence into hie browser and came back with about a bazillion hits. It was a quote from a Christmas movie. The movie was called "It's a Wonderful Life" and it had been made in 1946. He stared at it for a minute and a vague memory came back to him. His mother...telling him a Christmas story. Making him believe in a Santa Claus, and miracles and such. His father...teaching him something different.
He shook his head to clear it from the memories. He'd decided long ago that if it wasn't helping, it was hindering. It was keeping him from moving on. He let it go and now this woman who he was completely infatuated with wants to put it back in front of him and make him re-live it. He was torn between being grateful to her for treating him like a human and easing his loneliness, and being angry that she wouldn't let this Christmas thing go. He had to wonder what she had in store for him on Saturday as her hired hand.
Four didn't finish up his work that night until after seven. He called James and told him he'd be down soon. He packed up his things and rode the quiet, lonely elevator down to the lobby from the tenth floor. When the doors opened he found himself thinking of Tris again and the first time he'd seen her in the elevator. He didn't know her name and they had never spoken a word, but even then he'd felt a connection. As he crossed the lobby he saw James waiting by the car. He stepped over and opened the door for him.
"Hello sir, how was your Monday?"
"Busy as well sir," he said. Four started to get in the car and suddenly he completely lost his mind. That's how he liked to think of it anyways. He saw one of those Salvation Army buckets outside the lobby window and currently unmanned. The bell they rang all day was sitting on top of it and without giving himself time to think about it he picked it up and rang it.
He sat it back down and stepping in front of a confused James, he slid past him and waited for him to close the door before he smiled.
The rest of the week passed quickly and every evening about the same time he found an email waiting in his inbox from Tris. They were short and simple, but they made him feel like someone was thinking about Four Eaton the man and not just the business guy or the boss or the paycheck. They were nice and it made him feel good to read them. She made him smile from six floors down.
Four received a text message from Tris on Saturday morning that told him to meet her in Grant Park near the coffee cart in front of the ice-skating pond and to dress casually. He put on a pair of jeans that were like brand new because he rarely got out of his suit long enough to wear them. He wore a long-sleeved t-shirt underneath a thick, gray sweater. He grabbed his jacket and his keys on the way out. Every step of the way he was wondering what she had in store for him and he traveled to their rendezvous spot with a mixture of dread and anticipation.
He walked about half a mile from where he'd parked his car before he saw her. She was standing near the coffee cart wearing blue jeans and a pink sweater. Even from where he stood, he could see how pretty she was. She had braided her long hair into two braids that hung down past her shoulders and she had on a pink knit beret that matched her sweater. She was sipping a cup of something hot; the steam was evident in the cool morning air. She was looking around, waiting for him and for the first time in probably a decade, he felt the flutter of nerves in his belly. He hated being out of his comfort zone and this was the first time in years that he'd allowed himself to leave it full-bore. He almost bailed, but Tris suddenly spotted him and waved. She was smiling, as usual, and her face was flushed with color from the cool morning air. God, she was beautiful. They walked towards each other until they met just along the fence around the little man-made ice-skating pond that was surrounded by little decorated Christmas trees and had a little house off to the side for when Santa visited.
"Hey there," she said, coming closer.
"Hey."
"Are you ready to do my bidding for a day?"
"What does your "bidding" entail?" Four asked her.
"We are going to spend the day doing all things Christmassy," she said. Four felt the trepidation in his stomach begin to spread across the excitement, swallowing it whole and leaving him only with the dread.
"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," he said.
"Why?" she asked. "You obviously already re-arranged your schedule so you could be here. Don't back out now, please."
He realized something new right then, when he looked into her eyes he could hardly remember the word, "No." He usually didn't do anyone else's bidding unless it was beneficial to him. This was not going to be beneficial but he still couldn't turn her down.
"Okay," Four said, "What's first?"
"Ice-skating," she said with what he'd only have to describe as an evil grin.
"Oh no… I don't think so." He said it steadily without a trace of the anxiety he was feeling coming through.
"Did I say no when you sent me an elf costume to wear? Did I balk at wearing it to the office even?"
He'd never been ice-skating in his life. He looked over towards the pond at the people sailing across the ice and a few of them making their way across like a newborn deer and he knew which one he was going to look like. This is why he hadn't felt anxiety in years. He didn't set himself to do things that would make him look like a fool… ever.
"I don't know how," Four said at last. He hadn't wanted to admit that, but maybe it would make her change her mind.
"I'll teach you," she said. Then as if that had settled it she asked him, "What size skates do you need?"
"Tris, really…"
"Come on Four, live a little. I'm not asking you to risk your life. I think you'll like it, but if you don't at least you tried it and you know for sure, right?"
"Eleven and a half," Four said. He supposed she was right. He might come off the ice with a bruised ego, but he'd live. He did always think it looked like fun. He reached for his wallet but Tris was having none of it.
"Huh uh, I'm the boss today, I'm buying."
That confused him more than the ice-skating. He always bought no matter where he went or who he was with.
"I really don't mind…"
"Listen, I don't care if you are one of the richest men in the world. This entire day is my treat, okay? Stop resisting everything, you'll never have any fun if you don't relax."
This was all so strange for him. For years now, when he took a woman out he made the plans and he paid for it all. He's never even had a woman offer to decide what they should do or where they should go, much less take out her wallet. Four knew he was defeated.
"I'll try." He intended to try, but he definitely couldn't make her any promises.
She grinned and said, "That's the spirit!" Everything she did was with such passion. He was realizing that it was hard not to get caught up in it, even for him. Her energy was all positive and it just drew him in. He watched her go and get their skates and pay for their passes. She smiled at every person she passed and they all smiled back. It would be impossible not to. Her smile was infectious. He was quickly discovering that her attitude was too.
She came back with the skates and they sat down on the bench next to the ice-rink. While he changed out of his shoes and into the skates he watched the people on the ice falling and laughing. He saw the couples holding hands and the parents chasing their children. Four knew Tris was right, he did things that made him comfortable and that mostly made hi happy, but he really didn't know how to do things that were purely for fun.
"Ready?" she asked with a smile.
"As I'll ever be, I suppose," Four told her. She giggled, like a schoolgirl and stood up. Then she reached out for him and his adventures on the ice began.
Tris, it turned out was a fabulous ice-skater. She turned around backwards, facing him and took both of his hands. As soon as she pulled him onto the ice he felt like the world was falling out from under him. He was concentrating hard, trying to pretend like he did this all the time when all he could think about was that if he fell; he was going to take her down with him. He pictured himself, crushing this delicate girl and being unable to get enough traction to get back up. The thought of it mortified him. He watched a couple skate by holding hands and looking happy. He wanted to trip them. He kept looking down at his feet, willing them to get some traction and begging them to keep him upright.
"Look at my face," she said. He glanced up and then back down. She laughed. It was hard for him to get used to being laughed at. People may want to laugh at him sometimes, but they don't. Everyone wants to be best friends with a billionaire so they agree with everything he does and says. As much as Tris' attitude towards him surprised him, he appreciated it, a lot.
"Don't watch your feet. It's like striking the keys on a keyboard. The more you watch them, the more they're going to mess up. Look at my face and look around at the beautifully decorated trees. Let your feet do the work. It's just like walking, one foot in front of the other. If you ignore them, they'll figure it out on their own."
Four glanced back up at her again and felt himself stumble. She moved her body slightly and said,
"See, it's okay, I've got you."
"Right," he said. "I outweigh you by at least a hundred pounds. What happens if I fall? You're going to go down with me. What if I crush you?"
She smiled and said, "If we fall, we get back up and hopefully we laugh about it. I know I will, and you should try it as well as opposed to that furrowed brow look you've got going on there. Besides, you're not going to crush me. You worry too much."
It took at least ten minutes, but they made it one whole round around the pond. He had to admit that he did feel a little tingle of accomplishment. It was nothing to brag about, but it was a start. He felt good right up until the point that Tris said, "Okay, I think you're ready."
"Ready for what?" Four asked, sheer terror gripping at his heart. Was she going to let go of him?
"I'm going to let go of one of your hands and turn around and skate next to you, okay?"
"Sure, I've made one round, I'm an expert now."
"Sarcasm," she said. "I love it." He loved the way her face was flushed from the cold and her blue eyes sparkled out from underneath the pink knit hat she wore.
She let go of his left hand and he watched her feet glide backwards until she was facing forward and right next to him. She made it look so easy. He couldn't really see himself, but he was sure he made it look ridiculous. He wondered if she was reading his mind somehow because right then she said, "Stop worrying about how you look and relax. Who cares what any of these people think? Chin up, chest out, head held high, and most importantly of all, smile. Have fun!" Easy for her to say, he thought, but he tried. Four forced himself to stop looking down at his feet. He stopped looking at the others as they gracefully passed by too. he looked straight ahead and gripped Tris' hand like a lifeline. Before he knew it, they'd gone another lap around. On the next lap, Tris began singing along with the Christmas song playing in the background. She knew every word and she had a beautiful voice. He was enjoying the serenade so much that he hardly even registered the next lap.
By the time they were on their fourth, or maybe their fifth she said, "Are you ready to solo?" His stomach did somersaults. It was something he hadn't felt since I was a kid. He wasn't ready, he was scared to death. Sometimes in business when he took a big gamble it was scary, but it was a good scary. This was bone-breaking scary. He couldn't admit that out loud though. He had his reputation. Instead, he did what he thought would please her.
"Sure, let's give it a shot," Four told her.
"That's the attitude I've been looking for. I knew it was in there somewhere," she said with a wink. Tris smiled and squeezed his hand and then let it go. Although they were both wearing gloves, the first thing he realized was how much colder he felt as soon as he was missing her touch. The next thing he recognized was that he hadn't realized how much she was actually supporting him. He started slipping and sliding and his hands automatically reached out for something to hold onto. He didn't realize it at that moment, but it was like over-correcting in a car when you went into a skid. He grabbed hold of Tris without considering the consequences. He heard her squeal as they both went down… hard. He landed on his backside and Tris was lying across the top of him. Four was glad at least that he didn't crush her. As much as this position would have been something he'd love in another setting, he was completely humiliated as people slid by so effortlessly while he sat on his ass on the cold ice. They seemed to all be smiling too.
Tris was squirming, trying to untangle them and it only seemed to tangle them up further. His left leg was twisted backwards at an odd angle and he was afraid he wasn't going to be able to stand back up. Tris finally got her legs free and he realized he was still gripping her arm. He let that go and she was sitting on her backside facing him, and she was laughing. She was laughing so hard that she had tears in her eyes.
At last she was able to stop and with an escaped tear rolling down her cheek, she said, "See there, that wasn't so bad now, was it?" Maybe not, but now he was on his ass on the ice and he had no idea how to stand up.
"I suppose the falling wasn't so bad, but now how do I get back up?" Four asked her.
"Watch," she said. She got up on her knees and put one skate underneath her. Using her hands she pushed herself up in what seemed to be one effortless motion. She did make it look easy, although he wasn't going to be fooled into believing it was going to be that easy for him, he felt a little better. "Now you try it," she said.
He got up on his knees… so far so good. Then he put his hands down on the ice and put one skate underneath him and then… he fell forward, flat on his face.
"Oh my gosh! Four! I'm sorry! Are you okay?" Tris was suddenly down on the ice next to him. He don't know what happened then. It must have been breathing in her enthusiasm all morning, but the thought of what he had to look like, splayed out on the ice suddenly struck him as funny. He started laughing and he couldn't stop. "Oh thank goodness, you're okay!" Tris said. He reached up and playfully pulled her down on top of him and once again they were both splayed out on the ice. She was laughing too now and it suddenly occurred to him that they were going to have to get back up and that made him want to laugh even more. It was like Tris had infected him with her magic and he had to admit that it felt really good.
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They spent over an hour on the ice, which is a lot for a first-timer. He was going to be sore in the morning, but she wasn't going to be the one to tell him that. He had actually started to have fun and Tris had a feeling it was just what he needed. She sang along with the Christmas music and he had even begun humming along with him. She had a feeling that was a big step for him. The longer they skated, the more crowded the rink became. Skaters of all ages slid around at different levels of skill and speed. Each time a wobbly looking one or a super-speedy teen got close to Four, she'd grip tightly to his arm. He laughed at one point and told her that she missed her calling; she should have been a caregiver. At first, he was letting his ankles buckle, but the longer they skated, the steadier he became. She could tell by the feel of the muscles in his arms when he finally started to relax and enjoy himself. When they came off the ice at last, his cheeks were flushed red from the cold and he was smiling from ear to ear. He'd been a really good sport about it all once he got going. She was proud of him.
"I'm starving, how about you?" Tris asked him as they took their skates off.
"Definitely," he said. "That ice-skating takes a lot out of a person. I know a great little restaurant not far from here."
"Uh-uh! My day, remember?"
"Oh, sorry. Well then, where will we be having lunch?"
Tris slipped on her boots and stood up. "We're going to the Christmas market. We can get some food from the vendors there." Four made a face. She doubted that he'd ever bought anything from a street vendor.
He finally got the skate he was struggling with off and then he said, "Are you sure? You're never sure what they put in things."
"Oh please, people eat vendor food all the time and live through it. You'll be amazed at how good it is."
He didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue any further. He slipped on his boots and stood up. Grabbing on to him he said, "Ouch, I may not be able to get out of bed tomorrow."
Tris laughed, "Yes, I thought of that too. But now that the initiation is over, you can skate more and your body will get used to it."
"Hmm, I'll have to give that some thought," he said it like he was going to give it no thought at all. That's okay; she wasn't looking to turn him into a professional ice-skater. She was just really hoping to help him learn how to have a little fun. "I have a meeting on Monday afternoon with some really important people coming all the way over from China. Hopefully I'll be there and not writhing in pain and agony in bed."
"I'm sure by Monday you'll be as good as new," Tris told him.
They turned in their skates and walked over to the area of the park where the fair was happening. There were more than 125 boutique-style shops in the park. The aisles were made from festively decorated trees and the shops carried everything that a person might need to complete their Christmas shopping and a lot of it was handmade, which she loved. Personally, she'd so much rather receive something hand-made than something designed and built in a factory. The sights and smells of Christmas were overwhelming. It all made her happy. She looked over at Four and realized it was having the opposite effect on him. His glow from the ice-skating seemed to be fading.
She saw a hot dog vendor and looked at Four.
"Hot dogs?" he said, grumpily.
"Are you too good for a hot dog?"
"Absolutely not," he said. "But, I did see a sign for steak sandwiches. Doesn't that sound better?"
"Oh, I see what you're doing. I said I'd buy and suddenly you want the steak. You're not a cheap date, are you?"
He threw his head back and laughed. That was encouraging. "I admit it, you have me. I have hot dogs every day. I was trying to get my hands on a steak on your dime."
"Well, as long as you're willing to be honest about it," Tris told him.
"I'd even be willing to pay for half," he said. "Please don't make me eat a hot dog." It was her turn to laugh. He sounded like an insolent child.
"Okay, steak sandwich it is. I'm paying for all of it though," Tris said. He opened his mouth and she said, "I won't accept any arguments." He opened his mouth again and she said, "Huh uh I don't want to hear it."
"But…"
He stopped walking and she said, "I'm buying, Four. That's final."
"That's fine," he said, pointing up. She looked up and saw the sign for the steak sandwich vendor. She'd walked right past it.
"I was just going to turn around," Tris told him. He laughed, but to his credit he didn't make fun of her. They ordered two sandwiches and two coffees. When they were ready, they carried them to one of the park benches and sat down to eat.
Four took a bite from his and said, "Oh my God."
"What? What's wrong?"
"This is the best steak sandwich I've ever tasted," he said. "I've had them in more than one country and in more than one gourmet restaurant too."
Tris smiled and said, "Told you so. You'll be an addict before long."
They finished their lunch and she had to agree with his assessment. The sandwich was delicious. He collected their trash and deposited it in a nearby can. Then turning to her he said, "What now, boss?"
"Shopping," Tris told him. He raised an eyebrow but he didn't argue or complain. She led him to a little jewelry stand they'd passed. The lady working the stand told Tris that her pieces were all hand-made by her and her husband. It was all lovely, sturdy jewelry made out of delicate silver and shaped or hand etched with unique designs.
"Are you looking for something in particular?" Four asked her.
"Nope, that's the beauty of shopping in a place like this. Whatever is here wouldn't be something you would have been looking for, because it's all handmade and original."
"So, how do you know what you want?"
"I look for things that match my people," Tris told him. "For instance, see this necklace? It looks just like my friend, Christina. She would love it." She looked at the price tag and sat it back down. "Unfortunately, I'm on a budget, maybe next year."
They left that booth and went to the next one. It was all decorations for Christmas. "So here, you're not looking for anything in particular either?" Four asked.
"Well here, I kind of am," she told him. "I collect Santa Claus ornaments for my tree. I buy one or two every year, but I have so many now I have to really look for unique ones."
"Hmm, Santa Claus, huh?"
"You're not a believer?" Tris asked.
He gave me a half smile and said, "Not since I was about eight."
"That's too bad," she told him. "What do you like to put on your tree?"
He shrugged. Then he said, "I haven't had a Christmas tree in my own home ever."
She thought that was so sad. "Why? You really dislike Christmas that much?"
"I really do," he said. She wondered what had happened to him. It had to be something traumatic to make him hate Christmas so badly that he left town because of it every year. She didn't want to ask him. She thought that he'd share it if he felt comfortable doing so.
"What about your family? Do they celebrate Christmas?" Tris asked.
As she watched his face change, she knew that question too had gone one step too far. His eyes seemed to cloud up; the light that had briefly come into them again while they were having lunch was gone.
"No," he said. "They don't."
Tris let it go at that and changed the subject back to her own tree. Picking up an old-fashioned looking Santa ornament she said, "What do you think of this one?"
He barely glanced at it before saying, "It's fine." She'd lost him again. She went ahead and bought the ornament and they moved on. Between that booth and the next one was another alley that stretched out lengthwise and was similar to a midway at the fair.
"Let's play a game," Tris said.
He pulled his brows together in the middle and said, "A game?"
"Yes, you can win me a stuffed animal," she said. "I'll pay for the game of course."
He didn't look thrilled, but he followed her. She sought out a game she remembered from last year where the prizes were all in the form of some sort of Santa Claus. Four would have to shoot a gun filled with water into a clown's mouth and make his balloon burst before the others. He looked at the three boys less than fourteen year's old sitting on the benches and then back at her.
"You want me to compete against three adolescents for a Santa Claus doll?"
"Sure, why not?" Tris said.
"I can buy you one if you want it that badly."
"No, I don't want a bought one," she told him. "It will mean more that you won it for me."
He shook his head and smiled, "What is your obsession with Santa Claus?" he asked her.
"I'm not obsessed," Tris told him.
"Okay, not obsessed but you seem pretty fond of him. What's the deal?"
"Tell you what, you sit down here and win me one of these fine Santa's and I'll tell you why I love him so much."
He raised an eyebrow and then with a sigh, he took one of the seats. He looked so cute sitting there in his designer jeans in between the boys with their faded and scuffed ones. She laid the two dollars down in front of him and the man running the game picked it up. The bell rang and Four took out his gun. His competitors had done this before; they already had theirs in hand. They all started shooting before Four got his ready to go. It took him several precious moments to line his water stream up with the clown's mouth.
She heard him curse and then say, "Yes! There we go," when he hit it. He seemed to be getting into it as she cheered him on. She hoped he wasn't looking to the sides of him and seeing how much more quickly the other balloons were filling up. He was having fun and that was all that mattered. They heard a loud pop and when they looked down where it came from they saw a jubilant red-haired boy with a Santa in front of him already.
The man running the game said, "Winner!" The boy picked up his small Santa and handed it to the man who traded it for a larger one.
"Oh well, you gave it your best shot," Tris told Four. He didn't answer her. He didn't look like he was satisfied with only taking a shot. Instead of getting up to go, he reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. After he lay another two dollars down in front of him, he picked up his gun and aimed it. He was a fast learner. She wasn't surprised. She couldn't help but smile at the determined look on his face. She wishes she had a picture of it to show him.
"Okay now, you've got this one," Tris told him. The other two boys had gotten up and wandered away leaving only Four and the red-haired boy down at the end.
"The heck he does!" the cocky little boy said, holding his gun in one hand and looking like he was ready for a shoot-out.
His attitude seemed to give Four an even more determined look. He set his shoulders and clamped down on the trigger of his water gun. When the bell rang, he came out shooting. His balloon was filling fast, but so was the boy's. "Come on Four! You've can do it!" Tris cheered him. Unfortunately, his balloon had different ideas. The little red-haired boy got a bigger Santa Claus that time and before the man turned back around, Four had laid down another two dollars. She put her hand on his shoulder and said, "It's okay; you don't have to keep trying." He glanced over at the little boy whose freckled face was drawn up into a huge smile.
"The heck I don't," he said, mimicking what the boy had said earlier. She laughed. She could suddenly see that competitive spirit that led him to becoming a billionaire. He wasn't willing to give up when he knew he had a chance. Kind of like the way she felt about him.
He played three more times before his balloon finally popped. When it did, you would have thought he'd won the lottery. He jumped up off his stool and wrapped Tris up in a tight hug. He swung her around and she squealed and giggled. The little boy was looking at them like they were crazy as he clutched onto his giant Santa Claus. The man running the game lay a tiny stuffed Santa Claus down in front of Four. He looked as proud of it as if it had been a lottery check.
He held it up for her to see and smiled broadly. "Congratulations," Tris told him.
"You're making fun of me," he said. "But that kid was tough. I'm thinking of offering him a job. He would make a great HR supervisor."
She laughed, "I'm not making fun of you. I think it's adorable." She held out her hand to take the Santa and he pulled it back. With a pout she said, "I thought you were winning it for me."
"I was, but I believe that you owe me something first," he said.
"What?"
"An explanation about the Santa fetish?"
Giggling, she said, "It's definitely not a fetish. That makes it sound so sordid."
"Okay, it's not an obsession or a fetish, but if you want this big guy, you're going to have to give me a story." Tris laughed again, this time because he was calling the tiny little thing in his hand a "big guy." What was it with men and size?
"Okay, here's the story," she said, as they resumed walking through the market. "When I was eight years old, some kids at school told me that there was no such thing as Santa Claus. I was devastated. I cried all the way home. When I got home, I told my mother what they'd said. I asked her point-blank if she and my daddy had lied to me. I wanted to know once and for all if he existed."
"So what did she say?" he asked.
"She didn't really say anything. When I think back on it now, I'm sure that she didn't know what to say. When you first tell your kids about Santa, it's a fun fantasy. But when they confront you about his existence later on in life, I'm sure it feels like a lie. My mother never lied to me. She suggested that we bake cookies and talk about it when my father got home from work. I also know now that she knew he would know just how to handle it. So we baked chocolate chip cookies; my mother's were the best… warm and gooey."
"Santa Claus?" he said, trying to re-direct her back to the subject at hand. She did have a tendency to get off track, especially with so much stimulus going on around her.
"I'm getting there," Tris told him. "Be patient." They were passing the booth to buy tickets for the carriage rides and she stopped and said, "Ooh! Let's go for a carriage ride."
"What about the story?" he said. She could tell right then that patience wasn't one of his virtues.
"I'll finish the story in the carriage. Come on, it doesn't feel like Christmas without at least one carriage ride through the park." Four was eyeing the horse and the cart suspiciously. He seemed to be checking the wheels on the cart to make sure they looked like they'd hold up. "It's safe, I promise. Have you never been for a carriage ride?"
"I've never seen the point," he said. "I have several cars and…"
Tris laughed, "There is no point. It's just fun. Don't you ever do anything spontaneously just for fun?"
He looked like he was thinking about that and then he said, "Rarely."