"Take out the papers and the trash,
Or you don't get no spendin' cash,
If you don't scrub that kitchen floor,
You ain't gonna rock and roll no more!"

‒ Yakkety Yak
The Coasters

"They've been awful without him, Barb."

For an entire week, Lydia had dealt with the terrible two and their destructive fussiness at the abrupt change in rhythm. Daddy was gone and there was nothing Lydia could do to ease their pain. They cried long hours into the night, until their little throats were sore and red and she had to spoon them honey to calm that ache.

Ginger came one day, her father another. Both guests' visits were helpful and uneventful. Barbara was there to help out today. Mealtime was where she had the most difficulty. She was still breastfeeding, but not as much with the growth of their fangs. Little Ivy at least would heal her after each meal politely, but only one teat at a time.

They shrieked and threw their solid food at the walls. Holly poofed random candies and sweets in place of the dinner her mother served her, banishing hard work and expensive china to places unknown. Today, she had Barbara's help handling them for lunch, which made it somewhat more bearable. They loved grandma. Her stern tone never failed to silence a fit.

"It's been like this since he left. They cry all night, they fuss and throw things all day. I broke down and let them sleep in the bed with me last night."

She and Barbara had already ran through the gist of why Betelgeuse was gone and the ambiguity of when he might return.

"I can barely take it. I know I can… I will… but it's hard. I know you're not his biggest fan, but I miss him. I love him, Barb."

Lydia hadn't taken a moment to sit down since Barbara showed up, too busy running around and fixing messes leftover from the twins and their explosive temper tantrums. Right now, they were sitting down in front of the television with a bottle of milk each and a Disney movie, miraculously quiet. Their mother was doing her best to stay hushed in hopes they would fall asleep and nap. Maybe then she could as well.

Betelgeuse hated being away from his family. Like any father, he kept photos of his girls with him and looked at them often as he sat with Claire in the waiting room. Still damaged in death, she fussed and cried, and he found himself soothing her while they waited to be seen.

In the end, he struck a deal. A massive stack of paperwork that needed to be taken care of appeared in his old cubicle before he even got to think about coming home and Claire was returned to mental stability, though still had the mindset of a sixteen-year-old girl. At least she was self-sufficient.

His job done, he was eager to get home, but... he wasn't sure what would greet him. Was Lydia still angry? Were the babies picking up on it? How long had he been away? His watches said a week, but he didn't know if they could be trusted.

He appeared on the edge of the property, Tilly appearing out of a shadow at his right hand, whining and squirming with delight that her master was home. He patted her gently, keeping a hand buried in her soft fur as they walked toward the house together. Holly was the first to pick up on the change of energy, her tiny ears wiggling as her eyes snapped to the window.

"Fuck! Dada!"

"I'm sure he'll be back as soon as he can, sweetheart. He loves you too, and those girls. As much as any father or husband could."

"You're right."

Lydia finally took a breath, joining Barbara at the kitchen table to slump over herself. It was sometime past noon and she was still nursing at a perpetually refilled cup of coffee. The nightgown she wore was slept in and rumpled, long hair hanging in a mussed single braid over her shoulder.

Holly Ivy both began hollering at once, shocking Lydia from her rare lull. They were crawling for the front door at a record pace and their mother rushed to catch them before they could escape. She succeeded, making them screech and turn red in the face as she scooped them up just before they hit the welcome mat.

In that same second, the door flew open, revealing bold black and white stripes all three of his girls had been longing to see all week. So happy to see him, she was brought to tears, just like the babes in her arms.

"Beej?"

If she wasn't holding two fussing piles of toddler, she would have thrown her arms around him.

Betel was surprised to find his whole family on the welcome mat, but he couldn't pretend it was an unpleasant surprise. He grinned and wrapped all three girls up in his arms.

"Babes! Bug. Buggy. Ya look a mess, all o'ya. Ya been givin' Momma a hard time?" The babies tried to dive for their father and he happily took them in his arms, kissing chubby cheeks and bouncing them gently.

"Now what has my girls so sad? Ya miss me that much, babies?"

The girls were babbling at him, Holly patting his cheeks just hard enough to make a sound and Ivy rocking herself back and forth in his hold. He looked to his wife with a chuckle.

"Guess they're gonna catch me up. Come kiss me, beautiful. I missed ya somethin' fierce. Then, yer gettin' in a hot bath and goin' to take a nap. I see that exhausted look on your face."

He finally kicked the door closed behind him and took a deep, pleaded breath.

"Damn, it's good to be home."

True to fashion, his youngest repeated after him, a very serious expression on her face. "Damn."

Rendered speechless, Lydia tucked herself in between his full arms as he took their daughters, wrapping around his neck and planting a solid kiss to his mouth.

"I'll just... be leaving now." Barbara scooted by, genuinely relieved to see her son-in-law for once. "It was lovely seeing you, Lydia. Betel. Ivy-girl and Holly-bean! Grandma loves you! Goodnight, everyone!"

Lydia broke apart from her husband long enough to hug Barbara and thank her for helping out, before returning attention to her husband who was tending to their furiously babbling babes. They were definitely telling him off.

"Are you sure you don't need me to do something?" Lydia faltered, still in work mode. Relaxation was a faraway, unobtainable concept with how hard the girls had worked their mortal mother.

"Are you hungry, baby? I just made lunch a little while ago, I can heat something up. Or do you want a beer? Let me get you a beer."

She was already turning toward the kitchen.

He thanked Barbara as she walked past, but didn't turn away from the scolding he was getting from his daughters. They were as tired as their mother, Ivy already tucked into his chest and nodding off between what passed as words. When Lydia started to fuss over him he chuckled softly.

"Kitten. Yer not listenin'." A third arm sprouted from his ribs and pinched her ass before pulling her back to him.

"Bath. Now. I'mma put the girls down for a nap n' then I'll come rub yer feet. I can get my own beer." He kissed her forehead and shoved her toward the stairs.

"Tilly, make momma go upstairs." The big dog jumped to the task, urging her with nuzzles and soft woofs. Betel grinned and waved before the extra appendage disappeared.

"Love ya, Lyds. Take some momma time for a minute. I got this."

"But— but—"

There was no arguing with Tilly. Daddy was home and what he says goes. With the snowy hellhound posting guard to make sure she didn't stray from the path to the master bath, Lydia started running water into the tub, slow and hot. First, she took the time to sit, undo her braid, and brush her hair before undressing and submerging. It was due for a wash.

The girls were asleep and Betelgeuse was joining her in the bathroom by the time she was done shampooing. She was sitting on the edge of the tub when he came in, thighs spread and everything on display while combing a sweet-scented white cream through her hair.

"I missed you," she admitted without any preamble, wishing to abandon her bath and wrap up in his arms. "We all missed you. Kept me up all night crying for you. Did everything go okay?"

The sight that greeted him upon entering the bathroom was unexpected but thrilling. He chuckled as she continued brushing her hair, settling in his usual chair and banishing his suit jacket and tie.

"Everything went great. Claire back as she was before the damage. Juno and I worked a deal." He slipped the chair closer to the edge of the tub, pulling her leg into his lap and beginning the promise massage. His actions were slow and methodical, working up one leg to the knee before starting on the other.

"I missed you too, baby. Real bad. I'm sorry the girls gave ya a hard time. I didn't think they would... tell me what I can do for ya tonight, princess. Anythin' you want."

Once her hair was thoroughly saturated with conditioner and piled atop her head, Lydia dipped back into the tub to properly enjoy her husband's pampering.

"A glass of wine and a joint."

She knew exactly what she wanted. Without hesitating after he offered, she made her simple, polite demands.

"And sex... and a cigarette. In that order. Please."

Only a week without him and she was reduced to a bundle of stress, pushed and prodded further along by their daughters. Lydia loved them more than anything, but without Daddy around, everyone was miserable.

"Did they go down okay? I had to let them sleep in the bed with me last night to calm them down. They missed you bad."

"You got it, kitten. Sounds like a good night to me." The wine and weed appeared before she even finished asking, his thumbs pressing into the arch of her foot firmly. He frowned when she explained that the twins didn't want to sleep without him there.

"They went down just fine. Wanted me to stay over the crib where they could see me, but they always do that with me. I'm sorry they were so bad for ya, Lyds... I tried to get home as fast as I could but..." He scowled at her toes, not willing to make eye contact.

"But I couldn't help feelin' like...if that were my little girl... if somethin' happened to Holly or Ivy I could never just leave 'em in a bed to get sores like the Brewsters did. They call next o' kin. When ya die. If ya have any... N' they wouldn't even come sit with her." He grunted, shaking his head.

"I had to be with her. She was scared n' confused. Couldn't tell anyone what she needed."

His description of how Claire's family let her waste away in a comparative light with their daughters made her cringe into her wine.

"I can't even think about them like that."

While he rubbed her down, Lydia leveled him with a thoughtful frown. Was he showing empathy? Recognizing that there were consequences for his actions and expressing remorse? It was out of character, but maybe it was real.

"Thank you for getting her out of there. It was the right thing to do."

"Stop remindin' me. I know it was. Did it for you more'n anythin'. I hate seein' ya upset like you were..." He scowled, a realization hitting him.

"Shit, it's Christmas Eve! God, I'm the worst dad ever." He pulled her ankle up to kiss it gently. "I'll take care o' everythin'. Once we get you good n' fucked out n' in bed, I'll go get the tree and make sure the presents are wrapped. Damn, I had plans!" He grumbled to himself softly.

"S'fine. We can do 'em tomorrow. The twins might have memories from this Christmas so I wanna make it perfect." He traded legs, starting in on the other with a soft smile.

"I'm sorry I missed Christmas Eve. Well... half o' Christmas Eve. We can put up the ornaments tonight, maybe. After everyone has a nap."

It was Christmas Eve? Puzzled, Lydia counted the days back on her fingers, only to whiten with realization when they added up against her favor.

"Oh God, it is Christmas Eve. I completely forgot! There's nothing up, no decorations, no tree, no stockings. Oh, shit. Barb must think I'm crazy! I didn't say Merry Christmas or anything, just prattled on about the girls and missing you and... Ugh. Fuck."

Now was a good time to hit the joint, which helped some to quell her incoming headache.

"Don't be sorry, baby. You didn't miss anything other than me being a terrible mother. I couldn't get them to calm down for anything. And these aren't normal baby tantrums. These are magic baby tantrums. You were only gone a week and I had Ginger, my Dad, and Barb all come over to help. I should be able to handle them better than that on my own… can't believe I forgot Christmas..."

He shushed her, putting her foot down and bending over the tub to kiss her gently.

"I'm gonna fix it. You just relax, kitten."

His massage worked further up her thighs, questioning if she was ready for the next part of their Plan To Relax Lydia. His fingers found the soft junction of her hip and thigh, just before the place he really wanted to be.

"Let Daddy take good care of his girl. I got a whole week to make up for." He squeezed her gently. "You asked me to... I'm gonna do it for ya."

With a glass of wine in one hand, a joint in the other, and her husband's hand talented hand between her legs, Lydia's night was looking up.

"Mm…" She sucked in a greedy hit, sinking back in the hot water and spreading her thighs to give him better access.

"Just keep… doing what you're doing… so good... I missed you so bad, Beej..."

Calloused digits dug into the tender muscle high up her inner thigh, just before her sensitive, untouched core and she moaned. Only half her glass of sweet, dark wine was left and she tossed it back easily, freeing up one arm to float along while he did his excellent work.

"Stop teasing me, Daddy… You know I'm ready for you."

"Who's teasin?" He pinched her gently and slid his hand higher, his fingers pressing into her slowly.

"God damn… a week away and ya tighten up on me again." He moved them in her steadily, twisting and curling them against the places he knew she loved. He growled softly and leaned down to nip at her neck, now hovering over her fully.

"Come on, baby... cum for me n' then we'll do somethin' really fun."

He grinned lecherously, his eyes fixed on the heaving of her chest. He could tell she was approaching her end and increased his efforts, trying to bring her over her first edge quickly.

"Oh… fuck…"

He was playing her effectively, rutting his knuckles against her core tenderly but hard enough to make the water slosh against porcelain. The cardboard tip of the joint was clenched between his wife's teeth, her hands gripping the edge of the tub. She used that purchase to fuck back against his hand, riding his thick fingers eagerly to push herself to the orgasm as he demanded.

Trembling, she sucked in smoke while keeping up with the smooth, pleasurable rhythm he set. It made her head and body feel heavier, more sensitive, and helped the wine in lowering her inhibitions. A rough thumb plied gently over her clit and she froze up with orgasm, a choked sound crawling up her throat. After passing the joint to her levitating husband, she pulled down on his tie, urging him into a heated kiss.

He hummed happily around the joint as she came apart, trembling beneath him. He had missed that, in only a week apart. The way she shook and moaned through her climax as though being raptured. When she was seemingly finished, he pulled his hands away and climbed into the tub, standing over her. He undid his fly and dropped the joint into the water, grinning at her for a moment.

"Tit for tat baby?"

He then pulled his head free of his shoulders and dropped it into her lap, grinning up at her from his place nestled against her stomach.

"Tilt me down a little, kitten, I'm gonna eat ya out."

Lydia recoiled when he stepped right into the bath water, grimy boots and all, then again when he dropped his head down into her lap. Pulling his slimy mug up from the bathwater, she brought him in for a kiss, one that had her nibbling at his bottom lip.

"You… are a deviant."

His headless body was pawing blindly at her cranium, forcing her to move his head out of the way.

"Woah!"

Once his digits found purchase in the back of her conditioner-slicked bun, he pulled her forward, dragging her cheek along his straining zipper. The cock she was so very familiar with was just as cold and thick as usual underneath.

"Hey, big boy… I missed you, too…"

While his zombie-like body humped against her face, Lydia carefully lowered her very dead husband's decapitated head to her nether regions for him to work his magic.

He grinned into the gentle kiss, happy to savor it a moment before his body interrupted.

"Mmm. You're a deviant too. Least we're deviants together."

He growled as his body pulled at her head, blindly seeking pleasure without his brain to control the aroused impulses. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, eager to get at her as much as his body wanted her on him. As she lowered him into the water he grumbled complaints into the water. What was he thinking? He was gonna be nearly clean by the time he finished! Oh well, anything to get his mouth on his beautiful bride.

He ran his tongue teasingly over her, her pussy still twitching from her previous orgasm, then growled and pressed forward, sliding the wet appendage into her just once before pulling back and twisting it over her clit. His body meanwhile had managed to tangle his hands in her hair and pull, rocking his cock against her cheek eagerly.

"Oh— Beej!— Hold on a minute!"

His body was roughish, pulling her against him by the hair and cheek while she tried to steady his head between her legs. With eager abandon, he anchored himself quickly with a curling tongue, making it easy to hold him aloft and in place with a fist at the ragged nape of his ripped off head.

"I've got you…"

Cheeks pinkened from the heated water and her husband's devouring, she set to trying to calm his lust-driven body, dragging a wet palm over the bulging tent in his trousers.

"Give me a second…" Licking her lips, salivating in preparation, she managed to tug his fly down with his calmed thrusting. "… and I'll make you feel good, Daddy…"

He chuckled as he felt her palm over him, groaning softly against her as he really settled in. The hand at the back of his neck kept his head from floating up and away from her, and he was happy to set to work with all the tricks he knew made her squirm.

He sucked at her clit firmly, mouthing over her lips as she finally got his fly open and her hand around his cock. His hips jerked forward again, his mindless body seeking the heat of her mouth. His hands were rubbing lovingly over her head and face now, his fingers tracing over her features like a blind man. Even without his head on his shoulders, he was reverent with her.

"Good…" she purred directly to his cock once it was brushing her lips, her husband's rough hands gentle on her face. "That's better…"

He really was brainless. Once she put her mouth around him, Lydia had no doubt all bets were off. This sweetness would only last so long. Nevertheless, his thumbs ran along her cheekbones worshipfully at the same time his tongue curled against sensitive nerves and she gasped, letting his cock into her mouth like a good wife.

For a time, he was happy to rock shallowly, gripping the sides of her head softly but firmly so that she could free up a hand to squeeze and stroke what didn't fit in her tiny mouth at this angle. With every moan choked around his thrusting girth, she could feel just a bit more of his patience tearing away.

His patience was paper-thin to begin with after a week apart. Her soft, warm mouth sliding over him was almost more than he could bear. His head redoubled his efforts as his body started to thrust toward her eagerly. He moaned against her, nipping and sucking at her playfully.

His body tightened his hand in her hair above him, pulling at her as he pushed forward into her mouth. He wasn't going to last, but with one orgasm under her belt already, he hoped she was in the same boat.

His long tongue wiggled back inside of her, fucking into her like his cock would, sure to press firmly against the spot at the roof of her that made her squeal and whine for him. He loved it when she did that.

Both above and below the water, he was ravenous, not allowing her a moment to breathe or readjust. His body was perfectly content to hold her in place and use her as a fuck toy while his head devoured her. The way she had learned to, the way he taught her to, she soon went malleable to his body's rough, mindless taking of her mouth, her stubborn grip at the base of his cock the only purchase or control she had here.

Meanwhile, his mouth was working every bit as hard as his body at ravaging her despite not having any limbs. His long tongue slithered through the water and up into her like a hunting sea snake, pulling desperate cries from her throat only to be choked and muffled wetly onto the other snake trying to squeeze himself a home there.

He was due a good, rough romp with his wife. Milky thighs squeezed around his disembodied head as he dragged her toward to orgasm with impatient lashes of his tongue, the hand in his hair fisting to pull him closer. Then, all at once, she tensed up, clenched his head hard between her thighs, and moaned her pleasure around his cock, sucking him down deep as she could while giving herself over to her peak.

As she clenched her smooth thighs around his ears, he groaned into her core, his body still jumping away at her face. He managed to tilt himself up enough to be able to speak.

"Enough! Pick me up, numbnuts." His body begrudgingly pulled away from her and lifted him out of the water, snapping his head back on and spinning it like a top. He reached up to still it as soon as he regained control of his limbs and groaned.

"Damn. Headrush." He was still hard as a rock, and reached down to pull her up into his arms, kissing her roughly.

"Shower. Now." He helped her safely out of the tub before shedding his clothes and pushing her toward the shower stall.

Lydia watched with parted lips, dark and puffy from abuse, as he reattached his head like a bottle top. She was still recovering from her orgasm as he tugged her up for a hungry kiss and urged her from the tub with pinches and swats. Giggling, she scampered for the large, walk-in shower stall as he stripped behind her, rushing to follow.

"You don't have to be so bossy," she teased, bending over to start the stream rushing, letting her mussed, conditioner-slicked bun down as she went.

"I'm not going anywhere…"

Betel grinned as he watched her bend over, a low whistle coming from him as he pressed up against her, his hard cock sliding between her thighs, his hips rocking against her firmly.

"God damn, you are so sexy..." He brought his hand down on her ass, not as hard as it could have been with his skin starting to get slippery from the humidity.

"You like it when I'm bossy, you little shit. And you'd better not be goin' anywhere..." He leaned over to kiss down her spine a moment before he was suddenly sliding into her, a brutal pace set without so much as a beat.

"And so fuckin' tight... shit, baby girl..."

"Oh!"

Lydia was barely given any warning before he dug his hands into her hips, lined up properly, and used his cock to start back where his tongue left off. Wet hands slapping against the tile for stability, she shouted out in surprise at the sudden attack on sensitive flesh and scrambled not to slip.

The shower head was angled to beat down from the top of her head, over her back, and onto his belly that was repeatedly smacked against her with each deep lunge of his hips. She had to keep her back arched low and head tilted high to keep from getting water in her mouth or eyes, but the angle left his girth stretching into deliciously, making the strain worth it.

Whenever they fucked around in this position, Lydia had to perch on her tiptoes so they lined up properly. This gave her brutish husband greater control over her weight distribution, allowing him to buck and bounce her off of his hips then pull her back rapidly. The punishing rhythm was too intense to allow for any kind of speaking that wasn't done in shrieks or grunts, so that's what they stuck to for a while, the animalistic sounds echoing throughout the tiled chamber.

Betel lived‒ kinda‒ for moments like this, his beautiful wife straining beneath him to keep their positions, her back arched and body shaking as he pounded into her. As much as he loved it, he knew she wouldd be sore if he kept it up, so he put a hand under her chest and pulled her up to press her into the wall roughly, his pace never so much as pausing.

In this position, he had ample access to her neck and shoulders, and he abused that privilege quite thoroughly, biting and sucking at her flesh until deep purple marks bloomed on her snowy flesh.

"Goddamn, yer so good for me, kitten... come on... give Daddy one more n' we can go decorate for Christmas. What a night, huh?"

With a grunt and a twist, he had her shoved up against misted jade tile, teeth sinking into her neck while his hips continued to ram against her with quick, hard thrusts. Any sweat produced from their rutting was swept down the drain with the searing stream before it could settle and form a scent.

Trusting him not to let her fall with the way he had her sandwiched against the wall, Lydia stopped worrying about holding position and let loose her tension, inadvertently allowing his violating cock to sink just that much deeper on each lunge.

"Just a little… more…" She panted, wet cheek pressed to tile, lips parted wide. The air was thick with steam, hindering her oxygen intake, but compared to the choking games they sometimes played, this was nothing.

"Almost… there… yes… yes! Daddy!"

He could hear her breath catch in the familiar way it did when she was about to fall to pieces, his thrusts becoming all that much deeper as she went lax in his arms.

Almost...there... yes... yes! Daddy!

"I gotcha, kitten... shit..."

He fell over the edge at the same moment she did, pressing as deep into her as he could manage, his nails digging into her hips to the point of bringing pricks of blood to the surface. He panted into her neck as he thrust through the aftershocks, groaning into the soft flesh.

"Love ya, baby... love ya so fuckin' much. Missed ya..."

In the aftermath, once he peeled her off the wall and back against him, they stood silent and at peace in direct line of the stream, her back to his belly, his arms gently heavy around her waist. Languidly, she pulled her exorbitant length of hair forward over her shoulder, making sure all the conditioner was washed out before they called it quits. After a coupling like that, Betelgeuse wasn't going to be leaving the stall without her no matter how much he allegedly disliked it.

"I'm tired," she admitted, knowing he already knew. "But I still want to help. I can't believe I forgot Christmas… that's worse than forgetting your own birthday…"

"Haven't ya done that too?" He teased, wrapping her in a fluffy towel and kissing her forehead.

"Come downstairs with me. We can have some cocoa and put on one o' those cheesy movies ya like." He ran his hand through her soft hair and smiled. "Tilly n' I are gonna go get a tree. You get dressed n' start the cocoa, huh? We'll only be a minute."

A snap of his fingers had brand new pajamas for her and the girls laid out on their bed. Before long he was dressed and harnessing a sled onto the very excited Tilly. A massive Christmas tree was acquired at the edge of their property, Tilly doing the heavy lifting to pull it back to the house. From there, a little magic had it lit with white Christmas lights and standing in the living room, ready to be dressed.

Lydia happily donned the pajamas he conjured for her, a pant and button-up combo made of red fleece with a shiny golden trim. The twins were still asleep, so she left Bubby to watch over them and set their festive matching onesies out to dress them in whenever they woke up. If Betelgeuse wanted to wake them from their nap early, that was his prerogative. For now, Lydia was still frazzled from a week alone with them and content to let them slumber undisturbed.

After slipping on her favorite oversized fuzzy cat slippers, she crept downstairs just in time to catch her husband heading out to chop down a tree, gifting him with a sweet kiss before letting him go. By the time he returned and erected the monumental pine, she had a sizeable vat of hot cocoa simmering on the stove. It was the good homemade kind, with cream and real chocolate and a splash of vanilla extract, no preservatives or powders. Lydia took pride in her hot chocolate.

Lighting up at the sight of the tree, she brought them both out mugs topped with large marshmallows— both of which were spiked with Kahlua— and nestled under his arm to admire it.

"I love Christmas," she sighed dreamily, gaze roving over the twinkling lights. "I know you're not happy with him, but Dad was really good with the girls when you were gone. He stayed here and watched them for a couple hours so I could get some sleep. Changed diapers and everything. I was impressed. I didn't know he even knew how to change a diaper."

"Yer right." He glanced at her, temporarily making a stocking fall to the floor when his focus was taken off hanging it.

"I don't like him. Glad he did his job though." He pulled her closer and kissed her cheek, taking a drink of his cocoa.

"Mm. Chocolate. Dunno if I like it yet."

It had been a brand new commodity when he was alive. He kissed her cheek, then her neck, then turned his focus back to the garlands and stockings that were hanging themselves around the house.

"So. Anything I should be runnin' out to get ya last minute?"

Lydia couldn't think of a damn thing. Anything she so much as glanced at for too long was already within her possession. It was the same for their girls. They had everything. Whatever was opened under that tree tomorrow morning would just be gravy on top of their spoiled, kept existences.

Still, she humored him and actually put some thought into it, wrapped up in his arms with cocoa, watching the decorations fly glittering through the air to hang themselves.

"Hmmm… well," she began with a faux thoughtful hum, licking sticky cocoa foam from her upper lip, "I think Barb will have me covered on new socks. Do you think… maybe… we could invite my Dad for dinner?"

She cringed just asking, anticipating what his response would sound like.

"He said he was going to an office party and those were his only plans. I didn't want to invite him without talking to you first."

Betelgause and her father had yet to speak so much as a single word to each other in her presence, and her father avoided the subject of her husband like the plague he lived through. Having no idea what transpired between them aside from her own speculation, Lydia could only imagine how they both felt.

"Just dinner. He wouldn't even show up until after Adam and Barb, so you would have them as a buffer."

"Baby…" he sighed, "I was kinda hoping it could be just us. I know Adam and Barbara plan to come over, but... I haven't seen my family in a week. We didn't really get to do our Christmas Eve traditions and I'd just as soon... not have him here."

"How about New Years?" He rubbed her thigh gently. "We can have him then. I'm thinkin' we should stay home this year anyway."

He sneered at the thought. It would be a full year since their grandfather had tried to steal the girls. Turning to her, he kissed her forehead gently.

"Now. Finish yer cocoa, watch yer movie, n' get ready for that fat bastard t'show up."

"I understand…" she acquiesced easily without even pouting. A pout would get her what she wanted, but what she wanted just so happened to also include her husband's happiness.

"I just don't like thinking about him alone on Christmas. Did you know he's trying to win Delia back? It's gross. Maybe he'll hook up with a coworker or something and cut it out."

This was mostly posturing. She would be happy for them if they reconciled but was extremely content with the knowledge that Delia was no longer her legal stepmother.

"I'm fine staying cooped up for the Holidays. I know you're not planning on it, but Beej," she settled on the couch as per his direction. The Nightmare Before Christmas was playing, but Lydia had seen it so many times that it was just background noise.

"You're not allowed to leave me ever. Ever. I'm not cut out for single motherhood. I don't know how my Mom did it..."

A melancholic frown pulled her face down into her mug.

"I guess she didn't."

"Don't matter." The mention of her mother made him pull her closer.

"Yer never gonna have t'do that. Yer gonna have t'put up with yer neurotic husband forever." He sighed as the last of the decorations went up, then nuzzled into his wife, kissing her gently.

"Now. You gonna nap or am I gonna go wake those twins up so we can decorate the tree?" He grinned and nibbled at her ear gently. "I really can't wait for the girls to see the tree... they're a whole year old now. Think they understand better, ya know?"

"Oh, I'm napping alright," she insisted hurriedly at the threat, very much looking forward to the impending snooze. "If you want to wake up the monsters, that's all on you, buddy. You have fun with that "

With that, she pulled the plush throw from over the back of the couch across herself and cuddled up into a snug ball in the corner of the cushions.

"Don't wake me up unless Santa's here or it's time to open presents."