Who said fate doesn't knock twice

Who said fate doesn't knock twice?

Summary: A very different abortion storyline.

Disclaimer: The negotiations are still in progress…so for now, no, I don't own the O.C. Blah!

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Once again thanks for waiting. Had a very stressful end of term and the hols aren't shaping up to be much the amount of work I have! However this is a pleasure to write and receive reviews for. I'm a bit worried about this chapter and the next…I've had to write them from scratch and with the ending already finished the pressure was on. I hope they're okay and you continue reading. On a happier note I'm rather inspired for my next fic!

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Christmas

Sandy hadn't brought up everything since that night, obviously thinking about the consequences of our latest fight and frightened of me turning to alcohol. I lulled him into a false sense of security, staying away from the vino and giving him what he wanted, if you know what I mean. It was easier than I expected and didn't hurt thankfully. I was on a new prescription of contraception, hopefully more effective than the last.

Things were quiet. Term had ended and Seth was home all day but the most noise he ever mad was cranking the stereo up past seven on the dial so the wailing and complaining was almost audible from the kitchen. He seemed happier now it was the holidays and I felt awful about what that meant. I resolved to give him a good Christmukkah, listening attentively to his not-so-subtle hints about potential gifts and agreeing to his ever increasing demands relating to decorations. I knew it wasn't enough, wasn't the right thing to do. But showering him with gifts was my go-to move. He didn't want the affection I'd smothered him with as a child and I couldn't give him friends or siblings of his own age. Sandy had promised playstation tournaments, visits to comic book stores in LA and sailing trips in the two weeks he was taking off. Seth didn't want to do any of those things with me. I'd be lucky to get him to come choose the tree next weekend. We might do some decorating together but he was easily bored and I knew I wasn't the best company lately. Plus, since my arm was in a sling I couldn't be climbing ladders or moving boxes and my son ran a mile at any sign of manual labour.

My wrist no longer hurt but it was still a pain. It made work more stressful than ever and the weekend spent decorating the house for Christmukkah was a welcome respite, despite the opportunity for thinking that simply hanging baubles gave me. The carols playing on the stereo and constant supply of mulled wine (that didn't really count as alcohol did it?) may have helped there. I managed to busy myself so successfully the next few days that I was shocked to realise, the weekend before Christmas, that I hadn't bought presents! Obviously, the Hanukkah gifts had been separate and thankfully I'd bought them early, but the day of many presents wouldn't live up to its name if I didn't act fast. I had a few stored away along with lists made throughout the year; I was nothing if not usually organised, but that was all. It panicked me a little, thinking how in previous years there would have been a cupboard of carefully chosen, beautifully wrapped presents long before now. Saturday I slipped into the office, frantically seeking internet outlets with 'guaranteed for Christmas' mailing options. Several electronic gadgety things were easily dispatched for the boys along with the traditional whiskey for my dad. Presents for colleagues and the Coopers were found at South Coast Plaza that afternoon but I still hadn't decided on anything much for Sandy and Seth's list remained long and confusing. That evening I convinced Sandy that a trip to LA was imperative. Seth easily agreed as it meant the Cohen boys could check out several comic book and anime stores and put certain items on hold so I wouldn't make mistakes later.

Sandy was all sorted on the gift front and ridiculously smug about it. I knew he'd chosen some replacement ropes for the Summer Breeze and several CDs, under Seth's strict guidance, for our son, so his grin had to mean he was pleased with his presents for me. That just put more pressure on. The normal things were easy enough; a few shirts from a tailor I knew he loved but would never buy from himself, insisting it was overpriced, more of his favourite aftershave, a voucher for the bagel store near his office. But the more special gift eluded me. Seth had mentioned getting something surf-related so that kind of thing was out. His golfing habits I had already exploited for his birthday gift. I picked up several quality sketch books for my artistic son and a set of beautiful pencils which I secretly knew I'd keep for myself despite not having the time to draw anything anymore. My father had very quickly weaned me off doodling in meetings. I had settled on an old-fashioned type shaving set, complete with wooden-handled, silver-bladed razors and a badger bristle brush and was about to brave the comic book stores when a jewellery boutique caught my eye. Shifting the bags up my good arm, I cursed my sprained wrist once again as the numerous handles dug in. Glancing in the window I just knew Sandy would have to have another present. Something else silver. I was in and out in five minutes, a black leather box safe in my handbag.

Thankfully the two stores where Seth had picked out certain comics, dvds and games weren't far and the boys met me outside a half-hour later. Relieved of my bags and thankful everything was gift-wrapped as they began peering inside, I sighed in relief and let them steer me towards a burger bar. I hadn't thought about things all day, I realised, quickly focussing on the menu. Maybe Christmukkah was just what I needed.

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Sandy picked me up from work on December the 23rd. It had been quiet all afternoon; most people having already started their holiday or left earlier on. He came up to my office simply to stop me trying to bring work home. I was allowed my briefcase, but he refused point blank to carry, or let me carry, anything else.

'Christmas is family time,' he told me firmly in a tone I'm more used to hearing from my own mouth.

'I know,' I said, 'that's why we have to go to my dad's party tonight.'

Predictably, Sandy groaned.

'It'll be fun,' I told him brightly, looking forward to getting lost in a crowd to hide the glass of champagne or chardonnay in my hand.

'It's not like your dad even wanted to invite me,' he began his complaint.

'But if you're not there he'll start making pointed comments…'

He couldn't care less about what my father thinks or says but he knew it would get to me. Ever the martyr to the cause, less than two hours later both he and Seth were in their suits and back in the Rover. Our son was scowling and my husband looked as though he was headed for the gallows but at least they were coming. Seth's frown melted the minute he saw Summer Roberts in the gaggle of guests in my father's backyard. I knew he'd have a satisfactory, if somewhat melancholy, evening lurking about pretending he wasn't watching her and trying to stage a meeting. Sandy was a little harder to appease. I knew he wouldn't be happy until he was back home, out of his suit and being 'rewarded' for his attendance. My father came over to greet us, well, me, and Sandy immediately put on his game face. I would have too except I hadn't taken it off in days, weeks even.

'Merry Christmas Kiki,' he bellowed. 'Everything finished up at the office?'

I wondered absently when we'd last had a conversation that wasn't about work. 'Yes dad. Merry Christmas.'

'Good, good,' was the response as he moved to welcome the guests behind us. A group of Newpsies immediately flocked towards me and Sandy hurriedly excused himself.

Game face, game face I reminded myself as I felt him squeeze my hand and disappear behind a potted plant, heading in the direction of the bar.

'Kiki!' Newport's finest descended on me, squawking with the latest gossip. I took a proffered champagne glass and downed it before picking up another from a passing tray.

'Needed that,' I said, winking at their surprised faces and they all laughed. 'Now, what's this about Diane Khan having more implants?'

Oh yes. I can Newpsie-it-up with the best of them when I try.

And so the evening wore on with more gossip, more vacuous conversations, more handshakes with various investors. More champagne, more wine, more concoctions that Taryn or Julie or someone insisted I try, probably waiting for me to fall over or something. Too bad the joke was on them; Kirsten Cohen can hold her liquor. One by one the Newpsies began to drift away; for water, to sit down, to the bathroom, or steered away, propped-up by their husbands/lovers (who can tell these days?). The evening drew to a close and there were only a few of us still by the pool. I knew I was a little drunk but something was keeping me reasonably clear-headed. Something. Huh.

I knew what it was. In the back of my mind I still knew perfectly well what I'd done and was trying to drink away. It kept me that little bit sober, which probably wasn't a bad thing, what with Sandy and the Newpsies watching. Sandy, thankfully, hadn't been watching tonight. My most recent cocktail glass was safely empty and on the table when he reappeared. I saw him coming towards me, bowtie undone and hair ruffled where he'd no doubt run his hands through it in frustration. He looked hot. Seth was trailing three steps behind him and their eyes told me they wanted to leave several hours ago.

'Well ladies,' I purred, standing up carefully. 'It's been a pleasure but I'm afraid I can't possibly discuss table linens with you any longer, not when my husband's just over there looking like that.'

I knew they'd been looking too and, being rather tipsy, I took delight in it. I smiled impishly and headed towards him, using edges of the Italian paving to keep me in a straight line.

'Hey stranger,' I murmured, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face. I knew the alcohol was spurring me on but it was the only way Sandy was gonna get laid at the moment. It was just too difficult to not think about things when I lying on my back sober.

'Tell me we're going home?'

'We better be.' It was a command, even in those honeyed, seductive tones and Sandy perked up immediately, weaving his head so my lips lost his earlobe and met his lips.

'Ugh do you have to?' Seth complained and stomped off towards the car.

I prolonged the kiss for the benefit of the women watching and, with a little wave at their guilty, jealous faces, we were on our way home.

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I woke the next morning regretting my game with the Newpsies. I might have won but the hangover that ensues from Newpsie-baiting makes me unsure it's worth it sometimes. Plus, most of them don't even realise they're playing.
My head was sore, my wrist was sore and those weren't the only things. Sandy knew he was gonna get lucky last night but perhaps not that lucky. I always get a little bit…well, he calls it wild, when I've one too many of more than one alcohol. I figured that must have let him in on the fact I had been drinking but either he was ignoring it or hadn't twigged. I was still in bed when he came back from surfing and seemed to think I must be ill, not hungover.

'You not feeling well?' he asked, sitting beside me and giving me a salty kiss.

'Mmph.'

'What's up?'

'Head…throat…wrist…'

He left for a minute, returning with pills and a glass of water.

'Thanks,' I croaked out as he lay down beside me, hugging me so my head was tucked under his chin.

'My poor baby, you seem to be doing badly getting sick at vacation time.'

I thought back to Thanksgiving. I wasn't ill that time either. Sandy had been sweet and caring and I'd pushed him away. It made me feel even worse. Here he was looking after me again when I wasn't even ill. I was hungover because I'd got drunk trying to pretend I hadn't aborted his baby. The reason I was 'sick' the last time. Fucking irony. Or whatever.
I stopped the thought, refocusing on Sandy who was still talking.

'So it just proves my theory doesn't it?'

'Huh?'

'You work too hard and the minute you stop for vacation everything catches up with you and you get ill.'

'I don't know,' I said, shutting my eyes.

'I'm gonna leave you to sleep some more.'

I couldn't decide if I was relieved or disappointed.

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By the evening I was feeling a lot better, telling myself I was having a glass of mulled wine because it was tradition and to stop Sandy being suspicious. Not just because I wanted one and I'd figured I may as well drink myself through the end of the hangover which seemed to be pushing all the thoughts I'd postponed with alcohol back into my head at record speed.

It is tradition that we all open a present at midnight. Something we began to do simply to save ourselves from Seth's hyperactivity and continued because well, he still probably wouldn't get any sleep. We gathered in the living room as usual, with just the tree lights on and watched the first of Sandy's selection of Christmukkah movies. Then we sat and chatted, had another glass of mulled wine, another of the store-bought mince pies that just aren't as good as my mother's and waited for the witching hour. Seth's watched beeped loudly, cutting off his ramble and he grinned. 'Merry Christmukkah guys.'

'Merry Christmukkah,' Sandy and I said in unison and Seth fetched the three chosen gifts. Seth had squeezed this present a lot in the last few days, the rest of his gifts being solid and harder to guess at, so the paper was looking a little worn. He ripped it off unceremoniously and shook out a t-shirt I'd seen him laugh at in the mall one day. It read 'Too Hot To Handel' with a picture of the musical maestro beneath. Both boys chuckled and I was a very happy woman for that moment. Sandy, meanwhile, opened the case containing the special shaving kit and immediately began to rave over it, impatient for his stubble to grow back so he could try it out. I was thrilled he liked it having worried he'd want to stick with his modern razor, considering the gift overly expensive and antiquated. My gift was in a bag I recognised as being from a select jewellery boutique and came in a fat leather box. Inside was a slim gold watch, beautiful, elegant and just my taste. I smiled at Sandy. 'It's perfect. Thank you.'

'Read the note,' he prompted and I picked up the slip of paper that had fallen out.

'All I want for Christmas is more time with you'

Some people might have seen it as a dig at my working habits but I knew it was Sandy being sweet…and telling me how he felt.

Seth head up to bed soon after that and Sandy and I slid from the sofa to the floor. It's probably my favourite moment of Christmas, sitting there in the semi-darkness with Sandy. We've done it every year we've been together for Christmas, even when we hadn't quite defined our relationship, haven't been exactly sure what we're celebrating, haven't had a tree. The lights and the candles from the menorah, which we light on Christmas Eve even if it isn't Hanukkah, give such an atmosphere and that night it felt even more poignant as I half-lay, half-sat on the floor in Sandy's arms. We lay there just talking, kissing, then in silence just enjoying each other's company. I'd felt a little tense earlier but the mulled wine had relaxed me and I felt like I was acting pretty normal. I didn't realise I was lost in thought until Sandy began to trace my face with his fingers.

'What you thinking?' he asked softly.

I shook my head, 'Nothing.' But I guess shadows must have been sculling across my face as he'd watched me because he didn't look convinced.

'Are you sure everything's okay?'

'Uhu.'

'Your eyes look sad,' he murmured and I swallowed. 'I feel like we've been so far apart these last few weeks.'

I felt the tears prickling.

'I miss you. I know you're busy with work but if there's anything else…if there's ever anything else…or if it's just that, you can tell me. You can always tell me… It's okay. I love you.'

'Sandy…' My voice was so small in the quiet of the house.

'You've just seemed…distant, unhappy, nervous around me… I'm sorry if it's nothing and I'm overreacting I just don't want you to be unhappy.'

This was my cue. I could tell him, free myself from this strangling secret, share the burden, relieve my guilt.

But it wasn't that simple. The words choked in my throat because I knew I could tell him but it wouldn't be okay. He wouldn't stop loving me but it would hurt him. And ruin Christmukkah. Everything was so nice right now. I felt warm and sleepy and loved. I didn't want to change that.

'It's okay, we're okay, I'm okay,' I told him, lifting a hand to stroke his face. 'I love you.'

'I love you too,' he told me again. I made out the words through my drowsiness and smiled as I fell asleep.

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Christmases were slightly more relaxed now Seth was a teenager. I'm not saying he doesn't get excited because, boy, he does. But at least he's up at eight rather than four. We were woken by a mix CD of Seth's favourite carols and Christmas tunes which he was obvious playing in the living room to rouse us. It's one of his rules that we aren't allowed to shower or dress before presents and breakfast so we simply had our robes to slip on. I was up first. I've never liked lounging in bed but those days, when everything rushed to greet me as I emerged from the cocoon of sleep, ready to ruin my day before it had even begun, I was especially anxious to get up and get busy. Sandy kissed me as I tied my robe and I smiled. I felt better once I was vertical.

'Merry Christmas-Christmukkah my love.'

'Merry Christmas-Christmukkah.'

'We better get in there…'

'We better or he'll start gnawing the cushions or something.'

Sandy chuckled.

'I thought you said I wasn't funny!'

'Well…' he teased as we headed towards an impatient Seth.

'MERRY CHRISTMUKKAH!' he screeched, hugging us both fiercely. At least he still knows how to be affectionate, even if it was only because there is a mound of presents under the tree.

'Stockings,' he instructed.

'Coffee,' Sandy insisted, heading to the kitchen.

'Daaad!'

'Your father's getting on,' I told him, loud enough for Sandy to hear. 'He'll get grouchy without his caffeine.'

'Oh my god Dad,' Seth hollered. 'Mom just made a joke.'

'Personally I think it wasn't funny,' he yelled back and I smiled at the banter.

'I think I'll bring some eggnog in,' I said to Seth who rolled his eyes. I was surprised he wasn't foaming at the mouth; nearly eight twenty-five and not a single present opened.

In the kitchen I chivvied Sandy to hurry up with the coffee and collected the eggnog from the fridge. Alcoholic, of course, but it was Christmas after all.

'So two attempts at jokes in ten minutes, you feeling okay?' he mocked as we set everything down back in the living room.

I stuck my tongue out and reached for the stockings hung from the mantelpiece.

'Seth.' The word had barely left my mouth before he had swooped down to take the stocking, dipping his arm inside even as he dropped to sit cross-legged on the floor, his position and the look on his face both childlike.

'Sandy.' My husband grinned at me, retrieving the stocking, stealing a kiss and sitting beside his son.

I took mine down and joined them on the floor wondering if Sandy or Seth filled mine this year. It proved to be the latter and I found several amusing, weird little gifts, a lot of chocolate and a clementine. Seth was grinning, already sampling a chocolate snowman, so it seemed like Sandy did a good job of his. I had Law themed Sandy's stocking gifts back in September when my brain was still functioning so most of them were things for the office; a jotter pad, paper weight, some nice pens, another photo frame, that kind of thing, plus of course the requisite chocolates and clementine.

Seth, momentarily sated, allowed Sandy to go schmear some bagels whilst he, as 'Christmukkah Gift Master' selected the first three gifts to be opened. Evidently it was a difficult choice as we began eating before he'd decided and approached us solemnly with a present each.

'I love Christmukkah,' he declared as he ripped, manically, into the first gift, revealing the record player he'd been wanting. The one present Sandy and I actually bought together.

'Yessss! Thank you!' He leapt up, obviously elated and hugged us both. I love that. I love him being happy, I love our family. I wondered if he would have been happy if this was his last Christmas as an only child. I imagined another child excitedly unwrapping presents…

'Kirsten?'

I realised I was still sat with the box on my lap whilst Sandy had opened his with about as much finesse as his son, a surfing photograph in a frame on his knee. I gave myself a little shake and started carefully tugging at the wrapping paper as Sandy reached to ruffle Seth's hair in thanks. I could feel them both getting impatient but I enjoy taking my time. It proved to be three animal-shaped stress balls! A monkey, a lion and a zebra but all spherical and therefore slightly disturbing. And so Seth. I laughed and kissed him. 'Are you trying to tell me something?'

First presents opened, the frenzy really began as everyone went at their own pace, interspersed with giving and receiving thanks and hugs. An hour later, a good while after Seth and Sandy, there was a pile beside me on the sofa including new perfume, a silk scarf, several novels from an author I'd just discovered, an extra-large coffee mug, a beautifully patterned concertina file for letters and suchlike, a book of love poems and a silver bookmark with a heart at the top. Sandy was lounging in a chair proudly wearing his new Grease logo tie over his pyjamas, a large tub of surf wax, luridly patterned board shorts, new sunglasses to replace the ones he'd sat on, a surfboard shaped stress ball, a bottle of whiskey, and a coffee mug to match mine, at his feet. My son had commandeered the space in front of the fireplace, spreading out his gifts and admiring his new posters, a bag of ropes and cleats for his boat, new sketchbooks, a stack of various comic books and video games, several records and the solar powered phone charger, which I'd also got for Sandy, sick of them using the 'my cell died' excuse.

I made my way over to the tree and then to my husband. 'I have something else for you…' I began, sitting on the arm of the chair.

'Oh really? Maybe we should wait till we're alone,' he said, wiggling his eyebrows. Seth didn't look up but made one of his disgusted sounds. I batted Sandy playfully on the arm. 'Don't worry Seth, it's not like that.' I held out the small box I had hidden in the tree branches. He opened that one carefully, sliding the cardboard casing from the leather box and gently easing it open. Inside, nestled on the deep purple lining were a pair of cufflinks shaped like playing cards. The ace of hearts to be exact. He looked from the cufflinks to the message inside; To my Ace of Hearts, Merry Christmukkah, love Kirsten x and then to me. His eyes were that deep, dark blue that makes me tremble inside. I love that man so much and he loves me for some strange reason.

'Thank you,' he said quietly. 'They're…I love you.'

I felt like crying. 'I love you too.'

'I um…actually have another gift for you too.'

'I have lovely presents already.'

'Oh well in that case…'

'Sandy!'

'Okay,' he relented, going to his study to fetch the mystery gift. He returned with a large, flat rectangle barely covered by the Christmas paper. I tugged it off gingerly, totally unprepared for what I saw.

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Reviews would be v much appreciated my dears!

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