A little more for y'all. Enjoy! Happy New Year from DKM and prplerayne.
Van took her hand again, his fingers lacing with hers as he looked into her sapphire eyes and smiled. "They sounded like wonderful people," he said gently, squeezing her fingers. "What about your parents?"
Billie didn't want to look at him. She was afraid that if she did, she'd spill her guts at that moment. His grey green eyes just seemed to do that to her; make her reveal parts of herself that she didn't want to. But she looked up anyway, giving Van one of her uber-fake smiles. Suddenly, her nose picked up the funny scent coming from the kitchen. "What's that smell?" she asked, sniffing the air.
Van's eyes went wide when he realized what it was. "The HAM!" he nearly shouted as he shot up and raced into the kitchen, throwing open the oven door and grabbing the oven mitts to pull out the large piece of meat.
Billie resisted the urge to giggle as she followed him into the kitchen and watched as his second cooking disaster unfolded in front of her eyes. Several curses flew out of his mouth as he placed the ham on the counter beside the burnt rolls and assessed the damage. "Ham flambé?" Billie snickered as she leaned against the entrance to the kitchen. Van looked at her and glared. "Well, at least the inside should still be edible, if not dry." He grabbed the oven mitt and threw it at her. "Hey!" Billie shrieked, throwing it back at him.
"Okay, that's it, you're not getting any dinner tonight," Van scowled, even though it came out more playful than he intended.
"Come on, I know you're not serious. Most of that ham is still edible, and like you said, we can scrape the burnt parts off the rolls. What else did you manage to 'cook?'" she asked, doing the Austin Power's Dr. Evil fingers at the last word. Van threw the mitt back in her direction, glaring at her again. "Sorry, I couldn't help it."
"Sleep with one eye open tonight, Chambers," he warned, taking out a large serving platter for the ham and a smaller bread basket for the rolls. "The mashed potatoes and vegetables are over there," Van said, pointing to the two other dishes on the counter.
"Okay, these look pretty good," Billie commented as she picked them up along with the rolls and carried them to the table. Van followed with the ham, carefully setting it down on the bright red tablecloth beneath the chandelier. Having forgotten all her previous comments, Van pulled Billie's chair out for her and waited until she sat down before taking a seat across from her. The table was already set with plates and clean wine glasses, and a bottle of Chablis sat chilling in a wine bucket beside Van's silverware.
Van gestured to the empty glass in front of Billie. She held it up, allowing him to fill it as she replied, "Thank you." After having filled his own, he began to carve the ham. Just as he suspected, it was crispy on the outside and sawdust on the inside. "That doesn't look too bad," Billie said with a slight laugh.
"Yeah, don't choke on it," Van snickered as he put a slice on her plate then one on his own. The rest of the food was passed around and plated then set aside. Van grabbed his glass and held it up. "A toast," he declared with a smile.
"Not again," Billie playfully groaned as she lifted her glass as well.
"To overwhelming patience," he said, grinning widely.
"And to illiteracy," she finished, smiling back.
"Yeah," Van chuckled. His laughter died down and he was soon looking straight into her sapphire eyes again. "Merry Christmas, Billie," he finally ended.
"Merry Christmas, Van," Billie replied, taking a sip of her wine.
After dinner, the pair sat at the table, talking and laughing for a few minutes after most of the food had been picked clean. "I have an idea," Van said, getting up and taking the empty plates into the kitchen. He'd get around to cleaning them later. Right now, there were more important matters that needed to be attended to. He grabbed the tin she'd set on the counter earlier and returned to the dining room. Over the course of dinner, he'd found out that it contained divinity fudge.
"And what would that be?" Billie asked from the table, waiting for him to return.
"Let's finish the tree and start on dessert," he replied, grabbing his wine glass and heading to the living room. Billie followed suit, setting her glass down on the coffee table once there and grabbing an antique ornament from the box. "I'll be right back," Van said, realizing he'd forgotten a few more important things in the kitchen.
"Okay," she called over her shoulder, finding a place on the tree for the ornament she'd picked up.
In the kitchen, Van took a green serving platter out of a cabinet near the oven for the fudge. From the fridge he picked up a carton of egg nog, pouring it into a large pitcher which he'd fished out of another cabinet, sprinkling it with a bit of dark rum. He put the rest of the rum on the tray with the egg nog and glasses and carried it into the living room where Billie was still putting ornaments on the tree.
"Here we go," Van said as he set the tray down on the coffee table beside Billie's empty wine glass. He poured two cups of the egg nog, handing one to her. Adding another shot of run to his drink, Van stood beside her and took a sip from his glass, savoring the taste. "Not bad," he added, looking at the tree.
Billie took a sip of her own glass and promptly grabbed the rum, dumping at least a couple more shots into the egg nog. She took another sip and replied, "Yeah, that's good stuff." The shocked look on Van's face made her giggled. "What? Don't tell me you've never seen a girl drink before," she added with a smile.
"Not you," Van playfully argued.
"There's a first time for everything, Van," Billie said, picking up a piece of the fudge straight from the already opened tin. She took a bit and smiled slightly.
"What?" Van asked, noticing her smile.
"Oh, I was just remembering where I learned this fudge recipe from," Billie answered, her smile quickly fading.
"Where from?" Van continued interrogating as he picked up a piece, taking a large bite. "This is good," he added.
"I got it from my mother, who got it from her mother, and so on. She made it every year, until she…" Billie trailed off. She really didn't want to say why her mother had stopped making it. The story was just too painful, especially with Christmas being the anniversary of the last time she ever saw her parents.
"Until what?" Van gently asked, getting the hint that this is what she'd been holding back.
Billie played with several strands of her hair as she desperately tried to think of some way to answer that question. "Until she couldn't do it anymore," she finally said, her voice cracking. She knew it was a cop out, but how else could she hold off on telling him just how awful her life had been?
"Uh, oh, I smell a sucky Christmas memory ahead," Van replied with a fake smile.
Billie glared at him. "Let's just forget the bet. You're the king of sucky Christmases, okay," she seemed to plead, her voice rising almost an octave above its normal tone.
"No, I can't boss you around for a week by concession. This is a bet, not a presidential election, Billie," Van answered with a chuckle. He had her between a rock and a hard place; she had to say something now.
"You're right," Billie said, narrowing her eyes in determination. "And since you came up with this stupid bet and this is your place, it's only fair that you go first," she commanded with a sly smile, her mood brightening substantially.
'Crap… Whatever she's got to say must be bad if I have to go first,' Van thought, his grin turning into a frown. "Okay," he said aloud, "Let me just say, you might be right about me being the king of sucky Christmases, because I got plenty of stories that revolve around a crappy Christmas."
"We'll see about that," Billie said under her breath as the look of contemplation came across Van's face. He appeared to be in deep thought for a few moments, his eyes glazed over as memories of those awful Christmases assaulted his mind. Finally, he snapped out of his stupor and looked at her, ready.
"My crappy Christmases started when I was six. That's when I caught my mom doing the deed with another man under the Christmas tree. When I was eight, I watched my father get arrested in the front lawn. My mom dumped me on some family friend and ran off to Maui with some guy when I was nine. I found out Ray Ray was sleeping with my teacher when I was ten. At eleven, I discovered my mom was an alcoholic. And then at thirteen, my parents split up on Christmas morning. I watched my dad just pack up and leave without so much as a goodbye," Van explained, becoming spiteful almost instantly. When Billie tried to put a hand on his shoulder, he pulled away almost violently, not wanting the human contact just yet. The pain was evident on his face as he stared at the floor. His grey green eyes began to shine in the light of the room. Billie bit down on her lip, now wishing she really hadn't made this bet either. It was bad enough she had to trudge up her own memories, but watching Van almost break down after bringing up his own was just as painful.
"That's not even the half of it," he suddenly mumbled, glancing in her direction for a moment before looking back down at the floor. "I thought I'd caught a break after almost eight years passed without there being any major problems on Christmas. Yeah, there were the usual family fights between my parents and the rest of the family, but that was nothing compared to what happened between my girlfriend and I when I was a junior in college." Van paused for a moment, collecting him. He could feel that familiar feeling of helplessness washing over him as he tried to hold himself together for the big finale, but he was almost certain that he'd be needing more than just the rum to calm him down after this story. Standing up, he walked into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Jägermeister he kept in the freezer in case of emergencies. This was an emergency.
Returning to the living room, Van uncapped the bottle and drank straight from it as Billie sat on the couch watching him intently. "Her name was Stacey," he finally continued. "She was twenty. We'd been together for almost a year, and I was really falling for her, you know? All those damn warm and fuzzy feelings, the butterflies… I thought she was the one. That Christmas I realized the whole 'one' thing was a load of crap." Gulping down at least two more shots of the strong liquor, Van kept going, "She comes to my apartment that night, has me sit down, and tells me that she's been sleeping with my best friend, Rich, for the last three months, and that she's pregnant with his baby. She then proceeds to dump me, walks out, and I never hear from either one of them again." Drinking almost half the bottle of Jägermeister, Van finally flopped down on the couch beside Billie and looked at her with the most painful look she'd ever seen. It was actually worse than the look she's seen on his face the night Dre died.
Unable to figure out what to say, Billie went for the default, "I'm so sorry, Van."
He sighed, running his fingers through his chestnut colored hair. "Now you know why I hate Christmas," he replied. "You turn to tell me why you deserve to win this bet, because I don't know how you're going to top that."
Billie gave him a half smile as she grabbed the Jägermeister out of his hand and took a swig herself. "I'll be needing this," she said, holding up the half empty bottle.
"It's all yours," Van answered, already feeling tipsy from the strong drink. He knew he was going to wake up with a monster hangover the next day, but he didn't care. At least it helped numb the pain.
"You wanna know why my Christmases suck more than yours?" Billie asked, drinking a little more from the bottle.
"Why?" Van asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question.
Billie glared at him before she dove right in, "My parents died on Christmas."
Van's jaw went slack as he stared at her, unable to believe what she was telling him. At first he thought she was just messing with his head, but when he saw the tears welling in her sapphire eyes, Van knew she was telling the truth. "S… S… 'Scuse me?" he questioned hesitantly.
Billie just looked at him, and they soon fell into a deafening silence that lasted for quite some time. She continued to consume large amounts of the Jägermeister, drinking another quarter of the bottle as she contemplated telling him exactly how it happened. There was a part of her that didn't want to talk about it, but there was another part of her that needed to get it off her chest. The voices battled in her head for dominance until Van finally spoke up.
"Billie…?" his voice trailed off when her head shot up sharply to gaze at him, sapphire eyes already spilling tears down her apple shaped cheeks. Without thinking, Van raised his hand and wiped them away, his fingers lingering on her skin as several more fell. "You don't have to…" he said, but she stopped him, pressing her index finger across his lips.
"I do," Billie replied, swallowing hard as she pulled away from his hand.
How pale is the sky that brings forth the rain
As the changing of seasons prepares me again
For the long bitter nights and the wild winter's day
My heart has grown cold, my love stored away
My heart has grown cold, my love stored away
"I was seven," she began, her eyes staring off into space as the memory of that Christmas day invaded her mind. "We got up on Christmas morning and opened our stockings and presents. That's when I got this pendant," she added, fingering the small silver angel around her neck. "Mom made breakfast for us and then got ready to start our dinner. She realized that she needed some dried cranberries for the salad, and Dad had no idea what they were, so they took me over to the neighbor's house to play with their dog and left to go to the store."
Billie took a double shot of the strong liquor before she continued. This was harder than she imagined, but with her pain being slowly numbed by the alcohol, she almost thought she could get through it. "Two hours later the still weren't back. Nina, the neighbor, tried to keep me busy. She gave me some cookies and set up my doll house for me. We played with it for a long time. For how long, I don't remember. All I remember was the knock at the door. She got up to answer it thinking it was my parents, but it was the police," Billie said, taking in a shaky breath as a few more tears slid down her cheeks. What she was getting ready to say next would be hard, but she knew she had to do it. Another shot of Jägermeister, and she was ready.
I've been to the mountain left my tracks in the snow
Where souls have been lost and the walking wounded go
I've taken the pain no girl should endure
But faith can move mountains of that I am sure
Faith can move mountains of that I am sure
"The officer came in and told us that my parents had been in an accident and that they were dead," Billie started to sob. Her head fell into her hands, muffling her cries.
"Oh, Billie," Van barely whispered as he tentatively touched her shoulder in a silent gesture of support.
She cried for a couple more minutes before continuing, "They had been on their way back home. There was a semi on the road. The driver had fallen asleep apparently and his rig crossed the median, hitting my parents head on."
Just get me through December
A promise I'll remember
Get me through December
So I can start again
Sobs took over Billie's body as Van watched her finally crumble into tiny pieces just inches away from him. He didn't know what to say or think. He was torn between wanting to apologize for making her go through this and wanting to cry with her. This was far worse than all of his Christmas experiences combined.
Van did the only thing he could think of; he wrapped his arms around her for an enveloping hug. It took a moment, but Billie finally collapsed against his chest and completely lost it. Van was taken aback by her behavior, having never seen her this upset before. Even Alexa's death and the pain Billie suffered through it paled in comparison to this. Instinctively, he wrapped himself a little tighter around her body, hoping the little comfort he could offer her was enough to pull her through, and stroked her hair as she cried.
After having finally calmed down, Billie sat up, pushing Van away with little force and picking up the bottle of Jägermeister again. She downed the last of it and asked, "You got anymore?" Van shook his head, handing her the rum from the table.
'Oh, God, what else?' he thought, realizing she wasn't done yet.
No divine purpose brings freedom from sin
And peace is a gift that must come from within
I've looked for the love that will bring me to rest
Feeding this hunger beating strong in my chest
Feeding this hunger beating strong in my chest
That distant look appeared on Billie's face again as more memories drifted into her mind about her other Christmases. "Since I didn't have any other family, I was placed in four different sets of foster homes, which is when the real problems started. The first set was okay, distant, but okay. They were the only ones that really ever cared about me. They might have been distant, but deep down I think the actually liked me. They remembered my birthday and always got me something for Christmas. I stayed with them for two years, then they divorced," Billie described, gulping down at least three shots worth of rum before putting the bottle down.
Get me through December
A promise I'll remember
Get me through December
So I can start again
"When I was nine, I was moved to another home. These people weren't so great. The foster mother accused me of seducing her husband from the start. The woman was an alcoholic and her husband killed himself when I was twelve. It happened just after New Year's. After that, I was sent to a state center for teens," Billie continued, her voice becoming almost monotone as her eyes glassed over. Another good shot of rum and she kept going. The alcohol seemed to be the only thing keeping her from going in sane at the moment. "In my first 24 hours there, I was beaten to a pulp. The older kids continued to pick on me up until I learned how to defend myself. That's where I also picked up the smoking habit. I think I was there until I turned fourteen, and then it was off to foster parents number three."
I've been to the mountain left my tracks in the snow
Where souls have been lost and the walking wounded go
I've taken the pain no girl should endure
Faith can move mountains of that I am sure
But faith can move mountains of that I am sure
Billie chuckled suddenly, the elating effects of the alcohol finally mixing in her system. "They were rich snobs," she said, her words beginning to slur. "They had one kid, and the wife didn't want another because she was afraid to lose her figure. Yeah, what figure?" Billie went off into another reverie before she refocused on her original story. "The husband was an orthodontist, working all the time. He had an affair with his dental assistant. The only reason I knew was because I watched him like a hawk. I'd see him sneaking out of the house late at night and meeting her on the other side of the street. Their kid hated me too, but not like I gave a rat's ass. They didn't think much of me, never got me presents for my birthday or Christmas. One year, they flew to Florida for the holidays and left me at a halfway house, which is where I got raped."
Stopping to drink another inch off the rum bottle, the numbness finally caught up to Billie. The memories kept coming, but she barely felt a thing. Now all she was doing was just recounting the events that led her to believe Christmas was the worst holiday ever invented. "Those bastards finally gave up on me when I was sixteen and I was onto my last set of foster parents. The mother was a tramp and her husband was abusive as hell. He drank, gambled, and did drugs. He hit me on a routine basis, and no matter what I'd learned at that center, nothing I did could stop the bastard. He just got more pissed off if I fought him, so I stopped, and let the abuse run its course. When I was seventeen, he told me he had a special Christmas present for me. Yeah… the bastard raped me. I'd finally had enough and ran away," Billie finished, the tears having stopped a long time ago. She emptied the bottle of rum, her head beginning to spin deliciously with all the alcohol in her system.
Get me through December
A promise I'll remember
Get me through December
So I can start again
Van was beyond speechless. He sat on the couch and just stared at her, his grey green eyes unable to fall away from the woman that had just bared her soul to him. It was much more than he'd expected, but now he knew why Billie was the way she was. His blood began to boil hearing about the last man that raped her. He wanted to track down the bastard and kill him. Jumping off the couch, he began to pace back and forth.
Van couldn't believe what she had just told him. Billie had been through such a horrible trauma and to help her move on, that son of a bitch raped her! He was so angry. His fingers dug into his palms as his face flushed. Suddenly, Van stopped and looked at her. "How could he do that to you? How could anyone ever hurt your, for that matter?" he started asking, unable to wrap his mind around everything. He wanted nothing more than to understand.
"You've been through so much in your childhood. You have to be the most resilient woman I've ever met. How else could you go through all this and still be sane?" Van continued as he sat down on the couch beside her again. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry for all the things that happened to you," he added, kissing the top of her head gently.
"I survived," was the only thing Billie said as she wrapped her arms around him, desperately needing the warmth of another human's touch. The gravity of it all had finally filtered through the alcohol and hit her, sending Billie into a spiral back down to earth as several tears fell from her eyes and landed on his shirt.
Van pulled away and looked at her, those bright sapphire eyes shining in the pale light of the room. "You certainly did," he whispered. "You really are amazing, you know that?" he asked, putting his fingers under her chin and tilting her head up to look at him. His thumb traced down her cheek, wiping away the tears that had spilled from her eyes and smeared her makeup. Slowly, they began to lean towards each other until his lips were lightly touching hers. They played on hers for a couple of moments as his fingers combed through her dark hair. Her hands crept up to rest on his shoulders until Van pulled back and looked at her in shock. Billie didn't say anything for several moments, then she smiled at him.
Thrown completely off by the smile, Van just stared at her, still shocked that she hadn't hit him yet. This was so unlike either one of them, but somehow it just felt so right. When he realized that Billie wasn't going to beat him to a pulp, Van ran his hand down her cheek again and whispered, "You're so beautiful." She blushed and looked away. Gently taking her face in his hands and making her look at him with those fiery sapphire eyes, he said, "You really are," before descending on her lips again.
Their second kiss was just as sweet as the first. Billie leaned back until she was lying on the couch, Van's body positioned on top of hers as his hands ran through her hair again. He leaned into her, his tongue darting over her lips, wordlessly asking for permission to enter her mouth. She granted it by parting her lips and letting him explore. Her soft moans told him everything he needed to know about what she liked and what she didn't. It didn't take him long to figure out what gave her the most pleasure, but before he could explore further, Van pulled away, his lungs burning for air.
Billie whimpered feeling short changed. She was really enjoying this new side of Van; protective, gentle and seductive. A few strands of music filtered through her ears as a song she'd once heard on the radio came to mind, "Turn the lights down low, take it off, let me show, my love for you, insatiable…" His lips quickly returned to hers, their bodies pressing even more tightly against one another. She could feel his hands fall over her shoulders, tugging at the fabric until he revealed soft, tanned flesh. His kisses moved down her cheek and along her neck until they reached the skin he'd just exposed. Van sucked and licked and nipped, eliciting moans of pleasure from the woman beneath him. Oh, how he loved those soft, almost inaudible sounds as he continued to kiss her warm flesh, gently pulling down the rest of the fabric until it was discarded on the floor beside the couch.
It didn't take very long for one thing to lead to another. The pair tumbled and fought for dominance on that old couch, but in the end, both ended up satisfied. After hours of pure bliss, Van moved over on the couch so that his full weight wasn't on top of Billie. He stroked her sweat slicked hair and kissed her face. "That was incredible," he panted.
"It was," she agreed, snuggling into him a bit more. With her head in the crook of his neck, she gently kissed his collarbone and sighed contently. "I don't think I've ever had such a wonderful Christmas." Billie glanced up, her sapphire eyes meeting the grey green of his. Her fingers gently stroked his cheek as she added, "Thank you."
Van smiled down at her and lifted her chin so their lips met in a soft kiss. "You're welcome," he whispered, kissing her again. They remained on the couch for the rest of the night, content with each other's presence, happy to spend the holiday with another human being instead of alone.
Feeling Billie shiver, Van wrapped his arms around her then realized she'd fallen asleep. The couch might have been somewhat comfortable, but he knew from experience that it only led to a morning fill with back pain and a headache. Carefully, he extricated himself out from beneath her and gently slipped his arms beneath her neck and knees, carrying her to his bedroom and the mattress on the floor. As delicately as possible, he laid her out on the black comforter then wrapped the other half over her naked body. Rummaging through the closet, Van found another blanket and wrapped himself in it as he lay down beside her. Taking Billie in his arms once again, he smiled and sighed. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring; whether Billie would be in a good mood or want to kill him for what had happened. Van would just have to wait and see until then.
Song: "Get Me Through December" by Natalie MacMaster and Allison Krause
There's one more part of this story left. Thank you all for your wonderful reviews. We really appreciate them.
More story coming soon!