To Christmas Yet to Come
A/N: I don't own One Special Night, though I actually don't know who does. I'm not making any money off of this, it was just for fun. Now that the technicalities are out the way…enjoy! And please drop me a note to let me know what you thought of it. Feedback is ALWAYS much appreciated.
Catherine awoke later that day, to find the cabin dark and chilly. She snuggled closer to the warm body beside her, and tried to remember what had happened. Bit by bit it all came back; Robert, meeting her at the hospital, taking her to the cabin, kissing her… She looked up at the sleeping man lying beside her. Dear, sweet Robert. She still couldn't believe that he had gone to the trouble of finding her necklace. When had she realized that she loved him? Catherine decided that it had been that day in the hospital, the first time she had seen him after Thanksgiving.
Pulling the blanket off the back of the couch, she covered them with it, then scooted up a little bit, to kiss him gently on the lips. He didn't wake up, but his arms circled her more tightly.
"Robert," she said softly, bringing her lips to his again, "Robert darling, wake up."
"Why?" he mumbled, barely opening his eyes.
"Because I can't sleep." She told him, smiling.
"Oh, just because you can't sleep, I shouldn't either?"
"Something like that," she laughed, and kissed him.
"Although I suppose there are certain advantages of staying awake with you," he grinned, then claimed her mouth in a passionate kiss.
"Oh, Robert," She said when they parted. "I never dreamed I could feel like this again."
"Cold and stiff?" he cracked.
She chuckled. "No darling. So…alive. So loved."
"You are, Catherine. So loved." Giving her another quick kiss, he sat up and pushed the blanket off. "I'll get that fire going again in no time."
"Good. It's freezing."
He was right. Within seconds it seemed the fire was blazing brightly, warming the cabin and filling it with a cozy glow. Robert returned to the sofa, sitting beside Catherine and gathering her close again, with a kiss on her cheek.
"I can't seem to stop kissing you," he told her, smiling.
"That's all right. You don't have to." She replied, snuggling closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I never realized how much I missed this," she said suddenly.
"Missed what?" he asked, staring into the fire.
"Being held like this. Having someone there to lean on and turn to."
"You can't do everything yourself, love." He told her in a quiet tone.
"I know. I can't. But if you repeat that to anyone I'll…" she trailed off.
"You'll what?" he teased.
"Never kiss you again!" she retorted, turning her head and avoiding the kiss he had leaned in for.
"I give you my word, that secret will never get out." He said solemnly.
"I'll bet you a thousand dollars that you can't keep that promise," she mumbled against his lips.
"oh, but I will." He replied, pulling her closer.
Catherine rested her head on his shoulder, holding him tightly, knowing that she could never let him go again. After losing Tom, she was aware that they had very little time together, and the thought of being alone again frightened her.
"What is it, love?" Robert asked, feeling her shiver.
"It's nothing." She told him, pressing her lips to his neck, then settling deeper into his arms.
"I was just thinking," Robert said, "That I don't want to be alone again. And that I don't ever want to let go of you for fear that you'll disappear." He looked down at her, and was astonished to find tears gleaming in her eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but she placed a finger over his lips.
"I was thinking that too. Don't let go, Robert. Don't ever let go, and when we go, we'll go together." She said in a whisper, but to him, the words resounded around the room.
He gave her a small smile, and stroked a finger down her cheek. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"
"If it's anywhere near as much as I love you, I do." She replied, as he lifted her up to kiss her.
Neither one knew how long they sat together on the sofa kissing. The fire was beginning to die down again when they pulled back, to look at each other.
"This is the best Christmas I've had in a long time." She said.
"Me too, although I have to tell you. I'm fairly hungry."
"Shall we attempt dinner? I don't think anyone will deliver to us, listen to that storm out there." Catherine chuckled.
"The fact that it is Christmas Day might be a bit of a problem as well. I don't think the pizza place stays open."
"Well, there's always peanut butter and jelly." Catherine said, following him into the kitchen area of the cabin.
"or macaroni and cheese," Robert quipped.
"Oh, Robert that was terrible. I honestly don't know who would eat that."
"well then, how about frozen pizza? I bought it special for the occasion." Robert said, grinning.
"Actually, that sounds rather good. Not exactly the traditional Christmas dinner though." Catherine said, turning the oven on as he pulled a pizza out of the freezer.
"Let's start a new tradition," Robert suggested, kissing her lightly as he passed her on his way to fetch a cookie sheet to put the pizza on.
Once the food was cooking, Catherine wandered over to the small stereo in the corner, and began looking through the music. At the bottom of the pile, she found a Frank Sinatra Christmas album, and smiling to herself, she put it in the CD player. Robert re-entered the room, just as the first song began to play, and laughed out loud.
"Trust you to find that one," he said, crossing the room, to stand in front of her.
"Dance with me?" she asked, hooking her arms around his neck.
"I'm not a very good dancer," he replied, at the same time his hands curled around her back, pulling her closer to him.
"That's all right, there's no one watching." She said softly, as they swayed to the music.
The oven beeped, signaling that their pizza was done, about twenty minutes later. With a small sound of disagreement, Catherine pulled away from Robert's embrace so he could tend to the food. Her mood was lifted again a moment later, when the song changed.
"Oh!" she cried, "This is my favorite Christmas song!" She began singing along softly with Frank.
Hark, the herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn king
Peace on Earth, and mercy mild
God and sinners, reconciled
Joyful, all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies
With angelic hosts proclaim
Christ is born, in Bethlehem,
Hark! The Herald Angels sing,
Glory to the newborn king
"What?" she asked, when she caught sight of Robert staring at her when the song was over.
"Nothing. You're just absolutely lovely, that's all."
"Flatterer," she said lightly, setting plates out on the table.
"Am not, it's true." He protested.
Catherine suddenly caught sight of the small Christmas tree that had been set up in the corner. "Robert!" she cried, making him turn so quickly that he nearly dropped the glasses of Coke that he had just poured.
"What's wrong?" he asked as he hurried over to her, setting the cups on the table and taking her hands.
"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just, I didn't get you anything for Christmas." She said apologetically, her gaze falling to the floor.
Robert grinned, and pulled her close to him. "Darling, as cheesy as this sounds, you are the best Christmas present I could ever ask for."
Catherine looked up at him. "That was pretty cheesy."
"Ah, but it's true, my love." He told her, emphasizing his statement with a tender kiss. "Now, I believe our lovely Christmas dinner is getting cold."
He released her, and they sat at the table. "It seems we should toast something," Catherine mused.
"I've got it!" Robert said, lifting his glass. "To Christmas yet to come,"
Catherine smiled. "I like that," she replied touching the rim of her glass to his.
After dinner, they washed dishes together at the kitchen sink. It amazed them both how such a simple task could be ten times better when shared with the person that you love. Laughing and reminiscing about their first night in the cabin, Robert and Catherine managed to get themselves completely soaked by the time they were done.
Catherine dropped more wood on the fire, and even turned up the electric heat a little. The wind blowing fiercely outside was making the cabin exceptionally cold. Robert had gone outside to fetch more wood to refill the cabinet before the pile was buried under the snow. Coming inside, with wood piled up in his arms, Robert couldn't quite get the door shut. Catherine hurried around to block out the cold breeze, then took a few pieces of wood from him so she could see his face.
"You could have made more than one trip, you know," she said, smiling.
"And deny myself the chance to prove my manhood?" he threw back at her, neatly stacking the wood in the small cabinet. Picking up a small pine bough he held it over her head and kissed her.
"That's no mistletoe!" she exclaimed. "And you don't need cheap tricks, anyway."
"Well, that's good to know. Catherine, you must be freezing. Why don't you go change out of those wet clothes," he told her, after noticing her shivering.
"But I don't have…"
"I believe you will find a fuzzy flannel bathrobe in there with your name on it," he cut her off, his eyes twinkling.
"You were really confident that I would stay with you, weren't you?" she asked Robert, when she emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, now snug and warm.
"Let's just say, I was hoping for a Christmas miracle," he replied, wrapping his arms around her.
"Did you get one?" she asked softly.
"I did." He replied, in an identical tone. "I'll have to leave out an extra cookie for Santa Claus tonight. I definitely owe him one for this."
"You're sweet," she replied, touching her lips to his. "However, you're soaking wet from all that snow. Go change, you're making me cold." She ordered.
"Yes, dear." He said, giving her a mock salute.
"Oh, charming," she muttered, sinking down onto the sofa to watch the fire. "And Robert?"
He turned to face her, framed in the bathroom doorway. "Yes, dear?"
"Santa Claus came last night."
"Well then I definitely owe him some cookies."
When they were both changed into dry, comfortable clothes, Robert poured them a glass of wine, and Catherine dug out the Scrabble board. After throwing more wood on the fire, they settled in for an intense game.
"You're not going to win, this time!" Robert told her.
"You've been practicing?" she teased him.
" That's right," he said, laughing.
"Oh but can you beat this?" Catherine asked, laying down her letters. "O-c-c-u-l-t. That's…11 points."
Robert grinned at her. "Z-a-p-a-t-o. That's…22 points! And the lead."
"That's not a word!" Catherine protested.
"Of course, it is! It means shoe in Spanish!"
"You can't use foreign languages in Scrabble! It's against the rules." She argued.
"Why not?"
"Because it isn't fair to the other players who maybe don't know the language. Who's to say that you're not making it up?"
"Humph. Do you have something against shoes, Catherine?" he teased her.
"As a matter of fact, I don't like shoes all that much. I much prefer not wearing them." She told him, smiling.
"Interesting. As long as we're sharing, I don't like socks." He said, and they laughed. "All right. I'll take back the word, if you help me come up with another one."
"Deal."
The game continued like that for quite some time until Catherine played the last of the letters. "Horse puckey!" Robert cried in dismay as she won again.
Catherine chuckled. "You'll never win."
Robert glanced at his watch. "Would you believe that it's almost midnight, and we haven't opened Christmas presents, yet? My girls always had us up at six o'clock."
"I believe that." She grinned, then added, "They're lovely girls, Robert."
"Thank you. I agree." He told her, getting up to fetch her present from under the tree.
"You were actually very hard to shop for, my dear." Robert told her, handing her a small box.
"Oh, really? Well I still feel guilty that I don't have anything for you, though I imagine that you'd be equally as hard to shop for." She smiled, taking the small package from him.
"Don't feel guilty. You didn't know you'd end up here." Robert told her. "Now, open it."
"All right! My goodness, you're just like a child." Catherine said, laughing as she gently pried the tape loose.
"You do know that wrapping paper was made to be ripped, right?" Robert asked her after a moment.
Laughing at his impatience, Catherine tore off the paper, to reveal the small box of perfume concealed inside. "Chanel," she said aloud, with tears gathering in her eyes, as she remembered their conversation that morning. "Thank you, darling." She leaned across to kiss him.
"Don't cry, it's Christmas. You're supposed to be happy on Christmas." He told her, pulling her into a warm hug.
"I am happy. Happier than I've been in a long time. And it's all because of you."
"All because of me? Well then, could you remember that happiness in the morning when I give you a snow shovel to help me dig us out of here?" he teased, trying to make her smile. His effort was rewarded, when she giggled and kissed him.
"What makes you think I want to leave?"