Written for Babecakesrus' December Prize Winning Challenge on the theme of Peace, Hope, and Love and originally posted December 2011.
Edited by the lovely Stayce.
Peace, Hope, and Joy
Part Four: And The Greatest of These
"I'm starting to think there's something to this Monsieur Eggnog guy," I said in a whisper to Connie. Glancing over my shoulder, I made sure that Lula wasn't about to walk through the door. The very last thing I needed was for Lula to know that I was starting to buy in to her crazy spiritual leader's advice.
Connie raised a bushy eyebrow and replaced the cap on her nail polish. Apparently this conversation was good enough to postpone her white snowflakes on a navy background concept. I glanced down at my short, jagged nails and grimaced. Hauling in skips was murder on a manicure.
"Sit," Connie instructed, and pulled out the big guns. Clippers, files, base coats, top coats, and bottles that I couldn't figure out what was in them. With skill born of practice, she set to work, and I watched in awe as my nails turned into something pretty.
"Tell me why you think this Monsieur Eggnog might not be a complete load of crap," she instructed, biting her bottom lip as she contemplated colours. I watched as she chose a deep red.
"I'll put snowflakes on top," she told me. "Otherwise it'll be too dark for you."
I shrugged and let her go to work. Put a bottle of nail polish in her hand, and Connie turns into an artist. "Well," I said, thinking back on the past week. "Lula wanted to make peace between Grandma Mazur and Grandma Bella. Somehow, Grandma Bella got invited over for supper, and she's been..." I paused. Nice wasn't a word one normally thought of in conjunction with Grandma Bella. "Not nasty," I finally said. "She even gave Joe an idea for my Christmas present!"
Connie snorted. "And it wasn't a one way ticket to Siberia?"
"Nope." I didn't bother explaining what she had recommended. Connie would probably think that the hockey stick was intended to be used as a weapon. "And then there's Jackie," I continued. "Lula wanted to spread hope on Stark Street. That didn't exactly go as planned, but Jackie's off the streets and working a real job. If that's not hope, I'm not sure what is."
Connie nodded and switched to my other hand. "I went to Shorty's the other day. Jackie looks good. Little edgy, but everyone there was ordering her desserts. She's doing okay."
"And then Lula decided that Joe deserved some joy." I smiled widely. "She thought I would provide it for him, but it worked out way better than that. He's practically ecstatic now that he doesn't have to worry about me finding out about him and Terry." I paused. "Of course, he still has to worry about Big Blue accidentally taking a bite out of his ass." I grinned even wider. "I won't, but he doesn't know that."
"Always good to keep a man on his toes," Connie agreed, nodding. She pulled out white polish and set to work creating miniature works of art on each nail. "You sure you're not upset about Joe stepping out on you?"
I waved my hand dismissively, earning myself a smack and a glare.
"Hold still!" she snapped. "Unless you want your nails look like candy canes."
"No, I'm not mad at Joe. I'm glad he's finally moved on. We were in a holding pattern, and him dating Terry ensures that I won't be getting back together with him, even if they don't work out. It actually feels pretty good to know that that door's closed."
"Any other doors open?" she asked slyly, but before I could answer, the door to Vinnie's office opened, and Ranger emerged. Connie almost dropped the nail polish brush, telling me that she hadn't realized he was in the building.
"Ladies," Ranger said. He stood directly behind me, inspecting Connie's handiwork. "Pretty," he said, and I had to repress a shiver from the combination of his words and nearness. Reaching inside his jacket, he withdrew two square envelopes and placed them on the desk. "Invitations to Rangeman's Christmas party," he explained. "I hope you'll both come."
I nodded. Hot Merry Men in suits? You bet I'd be there!
"Babe," Ranger said, his eyes crinkling.
"What?" I asked. Surely he hadn't read my mind...
"You still have an obligation to fulfill," he told me, tapping the envelope.
I groaned, remembering the stakes of the pick-up street hockey game. "But the whole team lost! Why do I have to pay up?"
"Hazard of playing with the big boys. You had leeway during the game. Now you pay."
"You're a sore winner," I told him.
"No, I'm just plain sore. It wasn't easy playing with you on my back," he retorted.
"Well, how else were we going to make it fair?" I demanded. "It's not as if I could body check any of you! Letting me piggy back on someone from the other team evened it out a little."
"Babe. You put Lester in bed for three days."
"That's because he tried to grope me every time I jumped him! Wait. That didn't come out right," I sputtered, watching Ranger's eyes darken.
The inner office door flew open and Vinnie stood in the doorway. "You doing Santos now?" he asked, his beady little eyes glimmering with interest, and what I hoped wasn't desire.
"No!" I exclaimed.
Vinnie turned back to his office in disappointment.
"The rest of the guys on your team are paying up, too. They had to double the physical donations to the children's charity we chose."
Well, that was okay, then. It wasn't like I could afford to donate a whole lot. Lula's peace, hope, and joy might have worked, but it certainly hadn't yielded a material bonus for me.
"So, what do I have to do?" I asked, sighing. Knowing Ranger, I'd probably somehow managed to agree to mandatory gun training for the next six months.
"Oh, it's definitely better as a surprise," he said, his predatory grin causing my stomach to plummet. "Don't worry. I'll provide the uniform."
Uniform? This couldn't be good... Before I could squeeze more details out of him (hey! It could happen!) Lula swept into the office, the door banging shut behind her.
"It's damn cold," she complained, rubbing her hands on her bare thighs. I thought about telling her that she might stay warmer if she actually wore clothes that covered more than traditional underwear zones, but I knew there was no point.
She squealed when Ranger handed her a creamy, heavy-weight envelope just like the one's he'd given Connie and I. "Is that an invitation for the Rangeman Christmas party?" she asked, ripping it open. "Hey! It don't say "and guest" on here." She looked at Ranger expectantly.
"You want to bring a date?" he asked in amusement. Only Lula would want to bring a date to a Christmas party filled with hot, eligible men.
"Not a date, exactly," she said. "I just figured it would be fun to bring Monsieur Eggnog. You know, because of all the holiday shit."
"Monsieur Eggnog," Ranger repeated, not quite as amused.
"He's the one who had the bright idea of getting peace between Grandma Bella and Grandma Mazur," she said.
Ranger raised a brow.
"And he helped me think up my Stark Street plan," she continued.
I grimaced.
"Not to mention the plan to get Joe some happy."
Ranger growled.
"Well, that last one didn't turn out exactly the way I intended," she admitted. "Actually, none of them did, but I think they ended up okay."
"Wait," I said. "I thought those were all your ideas."
"Well, yeah, mostly," she said, but it was said in the tone of voice she uses when she's trying to convince Connie that she'd finished all the filing.
"Bring him," Ranger said, and I had the sneaking suspicious that he hadn't said yes just to appease Lula. Somebody wasn't happy about Monsieur Eggnog sticking his nose in my life.
Lula nodded and poured herself back into her feather-trimmed felt coat. "I'll finish the filing tomorrow," she told Connie. "I got party dress shopping to do."
"Finish the filing? How about starting the filing?" Connie protested. "These papers don't just grow legs and put themselves in the right files, you know!"
But Lula was already gone, the door slamming shut behind her.
I arrived at the Rangeman Christmas party fashionably late. Okay, maybe I wasn't late on purpose. Maybe I was late because I'd eaten a few too many shortbread cookies at mom's the other day, and I was scared to put on the little dress I'd picked out. And maybe my hair had decided to emulate the Wild Men of Borneo. At any rate, the party was in full swing by the time I pulled in to the underground garage. The elevator was waiting for me, and whisked me straight to the fifth floor. The door opened, and I was engulfed in Christmas cheer, Merry Man style.
"Beautiful!"
Lester swept me up, causing my flirty little skirt to skirt dangerous territories. I laughed as he spun me around the room—he was the consummate ladies man, but he always knew how to make me feel good. By the time he released me, Hal was waiting to hand me a drink.
"I can't wait for the gift exchange," he said shyly, and I'm pretty sure he was blushing.
"Oh?" I asked, and he blushed harder.
"Never mind," he mumbled, after Lester gave him a hard look. Hal wandered off again, joining the throng of happy employees.
"What was that about?" I asked, poking Lester in the ribs. "Don't think I didn't notice that look. What's up with the gift exchange?"
I thought about the black ceramic travel mug I'd bought for Binky, and hoped that I hadn't managed to mess up somehow. This was the first year I'd participated in the exchange. Was there some sort of tradition I didn't know about?
"Babe," I heard, and Lester blew out a sigh of relief. Coward!
"Ranger," I replied, hoping to match his calm tone. Oh, who am I kidding? The man looked like perfection in a suit! I think my eyes may have glazed over a little as I drank in his drool-worthiness.
"It's almost time," he said, and I'm pretty sure I licked my lips. Time for what didn't matter. If it was with Ranger, I was game!
"For the gift exchange," he said, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.
Damn ESP.
"I have your uniform up on seven," he continued.
"So, are you actually going to tell me what I have to do, or is this some sort of test?" I wondered. "Cause if it is, I have to tell you that I'm probably not going to pass."
"Oh, I'm pretty sure the uniform will clear everything up," he said, and I felt a shudder of dread. This couldn't be good. "Do you want help changing?" he asked. "I'm good with uniforms."
"No!" I said. However bad the uniform was, changing into it with Ranger's help would be infinitely worse. The thought of him seeing me in a state of undress gave me a hot flash of desire. If he offered to help with a zipper, I'd probably throw myself at him!
I reluctantly headed up to Ranger's apartment, waving at the security camera to whichever poor schmuck was stuck on monitor duty. When I opened the door to Ranger's apartment, the first thing I noticed was a garment bag draped over the kitchen bar. Okay. Chances were good this was my uniform. Taking a deep breath, I lowered the zipper, and promptly had a coronary. Little spots danced before my eyes as I extended a shaking hand to withdraw the white and red "outfit". When I took a closer look at it, my breathing evened out. It was not, as I had first suspected, the Mrs. Claus outfit that I'd left behind in Victoria's secret. Thank God! It was, however, of the same variety. It just involved a little more cloth. That wasn't see-through.
I carried the outfit to Ranger's bedroom, had mild heart palpitations at the thought of undressing in his room, and pulled out my phone.
"You cannot be serious," I said when Ranger picked up.
"Babe."
"I can't wear this! I'll look ridiculous! And Lester will be permanently attached to me!"
"Lester will be in traction."
Well, that helped. Still, it seemed to be on the wrong side of prudent to don a skimpy Mrs. Claus outfit in a building filled almost entirely by testosterone overloaded men.
"I won't leave your side," Ranger promised. "And the outfit really isn't that bad. Put it on. If you really don't feel comfortable, you don't have to wear it."
I narrowed my eyes. I was helpless in the face of reason, dammit!
"Fine," I muttered. "I'll put it on." I hung up without saying good-bye. Take that, Mr. Uniform!
By the time I put the finishing touches on the outfit, I could kind of see Ranger's point. Sure, it was a little revealing, but it wasn't actually that much worse than the dress I'd worn to the party. As long as I didn't bend over or sit down, I would probably be okay. I picked up the phone again and warned Ranger that I was on my way down.
He met me at the elevator, and I had to do a startled double take. Ricardo Carlos Manoso, man of mystery, was wearing a Santa hat. I clapped a hand over my mouth, but it didn't stop the hysterical bout of giggles I could feel welling up.
"You won't be laughing for long," Ranger murmured, shielding me from the sight of the other party goers. He tugged me into the room, placing me in front of him, his hands firmly on my hips.
"Merry Christmas to me!" Lester exclaimed, tossing his food filled plate on the table. "Beautiful! You make that outfit look goooood!"
I rolled my eyes and smiled at his deliberately lust-filled gaze. Whatever else he was, Lester Santos was good for a girl's ego.
"Just keep your hands to yourself," Ranger warned. "There will be absolutely no man-handling of Mrs. Claus," he continued in a louder voice. "Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir!" most of the men called, and I again had to resist the urge to giggle. Even at a Christmas party, the men were in military mode.
"You might want to take your own hands off her, then," Tank recommended in a low voice, joining us.
Ranger appeared to consider it. "No," he finally said. "I won't be doing that." Tank only smirked, as if he'd expected that answer.
Well, okay then.
"We better get this over with before the men go wild," Ranger said, leading me to a big wing chair that had been pulled from the sitting area on the main level.
"What are we doing?" I asked, though I had a pretty fair idea from my uniform.
"We're handing out the Secret Santa gifts," Ranger said. "Do you think I'd wear this hat for any other reason?"
"I thought it was to match me," I said, batting my eyelashes.
I yelped as Ranger settled himself into the chair, pulling me down with him so that I sat on his lap. My earlier fears about sitting down in the Mrs. Claus outfit turned out to be well-founded.
"Ranger!" I hissed, looking pointedly at my bared thighs.
The bastard grinned. I struggled to get up, but he held me firmly. After a little manoeuvring on his part, my Mrs. Claus skirt did cover more of my legs, but my backside had taken up the slack. With only a thin layer of underwear between my girly parts and Ranger's suit-clad leg, I squirmed, and wondered how I was possibly going to make it through the evening.
"You're covered," Ranger assured me, tugging on my skirt one last time. I gulped when he left his hands on my thighs. Geez Louis! I'd be lucky if I made it another ten minutes without spontaneously combusting!
"First up is Woody," Ranger called, and the tall Texan came forward. Tank, also wearing a Santa hat, rooted through the presents under the tree until he found the one addressed to Woody, and then he handed it to me.
"Merry Christmas, Woody," I said, getting into the spirit of the thing. When he reached down so I could hand him the gift, I pulled him in for a quick kiss on the cheek. The room erupted in cat calls and whistles, and Ranger grasped my thighs tighter, short circuiting my brain.
"It's Christmas," I reminded him, and I could swear I heard him sigh in defeat.
When Woody finished blushing, he opened his present, revealing a lava lamp and a subscription to Playboy. He waved the lava lamp. "Okay," he called. "Who's bright idea was this?"
"It's to improve your game with the ladies," someone from the back of the room shouted.
"And the magazine subscription is for when she leaves you high and dry," Lester continued.
"That's cold, man," Woody protested, his tone injured.
"It's okay," I told him, patting his cheek. "Lester speaks from experience."
"Burn!" Cal crowed, elbowing Lester.
"Next up is Binky," Tank said, interrupting the burgeoning dispute. We handed out gifts for the next half hour, with me giving each Merry Man a kiss on the cheek. Ranger's grip on my thighs became increasingly more possessive, and there were a few times when I suspected he was moving his hands around just a little more than necessary. I squirmed on his lap, and found evidence that he, too, was affected by our seating arrangement. I fidgeted a little more, trying to alleviate some of my tension and pay him back for putting me in this position.
"Playing with fire, Babe," he said, whispering in my ear and letting his fingers graze up the inside of my thigh and come dangerously close to my ruined panties.
A strangled moan escaped me, and Tank glared at Ranger. "Keep it G-rated," he ordered. "Not all of us have someone to go home to."
Ranger lowered his hand about an inch while I blushed. I didn't even bother trying to tug the skirt down—it was an exercise in futility. Probably I should never agree to a bet with Ranger again. But it was hard to be too upset when Ranger was making me feel like the most important person in the room. And I was pretty sure that he would have done that even without the short skirt.
My embarrassment was put on hold when Lula entered the room, dragging someone familiar with her.
"Diesel?" I exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
He grinned, and I got a bad feeling. Ranger muttered something about a headache.
"Tell me you're not Monsieur Eggnog," I gasped.
He grinned wider.
"You miserable little—" I exclaimed, attempting to hoist myself off Ranger's lap and claw his eyes out. Hey—I'd been taking notes during the cat fight on Stark Street. Eye-clawing may not be a recognized fair fighting technique, but it's damn effective.
Ranger placed his hands on my hips and held me down. "He's not worth it," he told me. "Besides, you can't get up right now."
"Why can't I—" I cut my question short when Ranger glanced to his lap and the portion of his anatomy that I was currently hiding from view of his men.
"Right," I said, trying to ignore the hot flush that swept through me.
Diesel and Lula came closer, and one of Ranger's hands abandoned my leg in favour of rubbing his temple.
"You're scum!" I told the tall, blond Unmentionable. "Scum! What were you thinking?!"
"Aw, don't be like that," Diesel said, leaning forward to tweak my nose and glance at my breasts while Ranger made low growling noises and Tank poised for action.
"If you take off my bra, so help me," I warned him.
He backed off, holding both hands high. "I just came to see how Christmas was treating you," he said. Glancing between Ranger and me, he surmised, "It's pretty good, huh? Full of peace, hope, and joy?"
"I'll peace, hope, and joy you!" I exclaimed. "Do you have any idea what I went through because of your crazy suggestions?" I was practically screeching, but I didn't care. He had it coming! Ranger abandoned his temple in favour of holding me in place so I didn't start a fight.
"Hey! They were good suggestions," he protested. "They worked, didn't they?"
Well, maybe. But I wasn't going to tell him that.
"And I can see that the fourth and best sentiment of the season is already covered," he said, sliding a sly look toward Ranger. I twisted just enough that I could see Ranger's angry glare.
"What fourth sentiment?" I demanded. "Lula? Do you know what he's talking about?"
But Lula was already at the buffet table, loading a plate with wings, chips, and sweets.
"Think about it," Diesel said, chucking me on the chin. "I gotta run," he said, and he turned away. "Merry Christmas, Stephanie!"
"Merry Christmas," I returned, shaking my head at his retreating back. "Do you have any idea what that was about?" I asked, turning to Ranger.
He shook his head. "No. But the gifts are all handed out, and I'm tired of playing Santa. Want to finish this party up on seven?"
Ignoring Tank's groan as my "uniform" shifted, I stood up, pulling Ranger with me. "I don't know. Do I get to take off the uniform?"
"Definitely."
"That's not what I—" I started to say, but Ranger was already whisking me to the elevator. Well, he tried. We were stopped by almost all of the Merry Men, who wanted to say thank you, or get one more kiss from Mrs. Claus.
"Show's over," Ranger finally said, tugging me into the elevator car. He pulled my back flush against his front as he leaned against the far wall, and I could swear he smirked at the men as the door whisked closed.
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Claus," he murmured, sliding a hand up my thigh, all the way to the good parts.
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Claus," I returned, gasping as he got serious about driving me to the edge. "Not in the elevator!" I whimpered, not wanting to give the guys on monitor duty more of a show than we already had.
"Babe. You had me hard as a rock in front of my men the entire evening. And I wore a Santa hat."
"Yeah," I said, plucking the hat off his head. "I really liked that part."
"The hat?" he questioned.
I raised my eyebrows. "That, too."
"Babe."
I laughed in delight, squirming in his embrace until I was tucked securely in his arms. He leaned down and touched his lips to mine, a gentle caress that was somehow even more intimate than what his talented fingers had just been doing between my legs.
"Thank you for what you did tonight," he said, keeping his face close to mine.
I pulled back far enough to give him a questioning look. "All I did was dress in a short skirt."
"You made Christmas special for the men," he said. "Most of them don't have girlfriends, and a lot of them don't have family. It meant a lot to have you here, spreading Christmas cheer."
"It was fun," I told him. "I like all your men."
He didn't look quite as happy.
"And I really liked the opportunity to sit on your lap all night," I continued. "Besides," I said, rubbing against the bulge in his pants, "It's not every day that a girl gets exactly what she wants from Santa."
Ranger chuckled, and I decided it I had never heard a sound I liked better. The elevator door opened and he drew me into his apartment. I still wasn't completely sure what the fourth sentiment was that Diesel had been mumbling about, but whatever it was, I liked it.
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