Disclaimer: So, I own West Side Story. Yeah. I also invented Christmas, am secretly Santa Claus, and single-handedly caused the world to adopt the phrase "that's what she said" as its own. Yep. Ooh! And also, Bernice is the creation of LCV Productions. :)

Note: Ugh, so it's been longer since my last update than I wanted, but I do have an excuse: I was visiting my sister, and she managed to kill my laptop. Cue much panicking for a week. Fortunately, though, my parents agreed to get me a new MacBook Pro ahead of schedule, and the Apple Store people were able to retrieve all of my files from the dead laptop. Yay for Santa Apple! So yeah, that is my mea culpa. I am sorry. -_- Will try and update again tomorrow, but I think it's safe to say that I definitely won't be finishing by Christmas, hahaha, though I'm still happy because with this chapter, merry christmas with love is officially half done! As always, any dates mentioned are based on the movie occurring in June of 1957. Further notes at the end!

For: HedgehogQuill, and Megfly, for virtually holding my hand throughout the long and terrible week I was unable to write. Thanks, you lovelies. :) Also, Merry Christmas to the whole WSS fandom! Yep, all four of you. -_-;

—viennacantabile

merry christmas with love

five : angels we have heard on high

…in which Gee-Tar sounds decidedly un-angelic.

.

Angels we have heard on high
Sweetly singing o'er the plains
And the mountains in reply
Echoing their joyous strains

Gloria in excelsis Deo
Gloria in excelsis Deo

.

Christmas, 1955

.

Bernice sighed. There was just no getting around it: it was Christmas, she was at home alone, and she was utterly bored.

It was just that there was nothing to do, thought Bernice as she rolled over to stare at the ceiling above her bed, and no one around to amuse her. Her parents were over at Aunt Betta's, but Bernice had turned up her nose and begged off, claiming a headache. The food was great and the cousins fun, sure, but Bernice somehow didn't feel like more family togetherness after she'd been subjected to two unbelievably long Christmas Eve masses the night before.

But now that she was sitting in her room with just two beds and a window for company, Bernice was starting to regret that decision the tiniest bit. Even her prude of a sister would have been company that night, but no, Clarice was out—probably with that tall, hunky, blond of a Jet she kept toting around, thought Bernice sourly. She ran down the list of options in her head. Graziella was probably off with Riff; Minnie had mentioned something about baking cookies with some boy she definitely had a crush on, which meant that option was definitely out; and Pauline—Bernice scowled. She wasn't that desperate yet.

So all the girls were accounted for, and while Bernice certainly loved spending time with the guys, she didn't really feel like hunting them down right now. A-Rab was had to be up to his usual mischief, and the Boyer twins were probably stuck in their apartment. And even though both Tiger and Mouthpiece were decent-looking, Bernice somehow wasn't up to the task of tolerating them long enough for things to get…well, fun. And Gee-Tar was probably off stalking her sister. Which left Action, Ice, and Tony. She grimaced. Action had made his feelings about Christmas togetherness pretty clear already, so that was a no. And while Bernice would have been more than happy to spend the day (and night) with Ice, the Jet third-in-command was a source of endless frustration for her. Ice never talked to, never even glanced at girls, even though Bernice had thrown him her most come-hither looks and suggestive innuendos. So that was most likely out, as well, she admitted regretfully.

And Tony, well, thought Bernice with a sigh, Tony never looked at her anymore. Not since last year, and the night she kept trying to convince herself hadn't meant anything at all. That was true for at least one of them, anyway. Even if it wasn't her.

She couldn't help it, though. Even though she'd always hated the idea of being stuck with one person, Bernice had to admit that with Tony, she'd felt a little different. Tony had big plans, dreams. Tony was going places, even if no one knew where. And just for a little while, he'd made her feel like she could be going places, too. He'd made her feel like she could do anything and everything, just like him.

But all that was gone now, she knew. He'd turned out to be just another boy; an ordinary, entirely non-magical guy who took what he wanted and left when he got it. Nowadays, every time Bernice tried to say something to him, Tony just nodded and smiled and didn't see her at all. He never told her to go take a hike, sure, but it was probably just because he didn't even think about her enough to be annoyed. Every hint she dropped about going out (or even staying in) just bounced off him like a quarter.

Bernice scowled. He certainly hadn't been too picky about going home with Pauline. But then, Pauline was a tart, thought Bernice disdainfully, and she had to take the direct approach when it came to getting guys. Bernice, on the other hand, hadn't sunk that low yet, and she hoped she never would.

But that high-minded attitude didn't exactly help tonight. She was still stuck at home, alone in her bedroom. What a way to spend Christmas, Bernice thought with another sigh. She never would have admitted it to anyone else, but the truth was that she was lonely. And even if Tony hadn't turned out to be the boy for her, he was still the one she thought about, more than anyone else in the world. Pathetic, she knew, but she couldn't help it.

"Anyone home?"

Bernice sat up straight, surprised and not a little pleased. "Clarice?"

Sure enough, the other Gambini twin came through the door after a few minutes, stretching and yawning. "Oh, hi, Bernice."

Bernice brightened. Clarice was uptight and annoying, sure, but she was still her sister, and therefore counted as company. "Hey, prude," she said casually, taking care not to let her twin realize how glad she was to see her. "Done the deed yet?"

Clarice gave her a withering look. "Merry Christmas to you, too." She sat primly on her bed. "I an' Frankie were just havin' hot chocolate at Doc's."

"Oh, so that's what the kids call it these days," parried Bernice, unable to resist. "Can I have some hot chocolate, too?"

Clarice rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up. He gave me this," she said, waving a huge box in the air.

"What's that?" asked Bernice with interest. Then she smirked. "Or is it somethin' I shouldn't be seein'?"

"Very funny," said Clarice, giving her twin a withering stare. Walking over, she raised the top of the box and shook it so Bernice could see its contents. "He gave me chocolate. Very nice chocolate."

Bernice reached out and snatched a particularly tempting piece. "Yeah, it ain't bad," she agreed thickly.

Clarice glared indignantly at her. "Bernice!"

"What?" wondered Bernice innocently, chewing happily away. "Don't I gotta make sure he ain't tryin' to poison ya or somethin'?"

Clarice just huffed and sank back down onto her bed with a sigh. "I hope that goes straight to your hips," she announced.

Bernice shrugged in attempted nonchalance as she swallowed the chocolate that now seemed to be sticking in her throat. "Prob'ly will."

Clarice straightened up and glanced narrowly at her. "You feelin' okay?"

Bernice stiffened, hoping that her sister's annoyingly accurate twin-sense wasn't up to speed today. "Yeah, why?"

Clarice frowned. "You seem kinda…off."

"I am just fine," said Bernice in a high-pitched voice. "Since when do you care, anyway?"

Clarice pursed her lips, but didn't reply. After a minute, though, she got up and walked back over to sit uncomfortably close to Bernice, who eyed her warily. "You sure?"

"I hate it when ya do that," grumbled Bernice crossly, scooting away.

Clarice raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Give me the sob-story sympathy voice!" expostulated Bernice huffily. "Like if I just tell ya my troubles, I'll feel loads better!"

"Well, maybe ya will," reasoned Clarice with a shrug. "Ya won't know until ya try."

Bernice hesitated. Clarice was probably talking out of her ass; there was no way Bernice would feel better about anything, least of all boys who had fun and dropped you right after, if she had to talk about it. But still…. Bernice sighed. Maybe her sister had a point.

"Come on," Clarice urged softly, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder. "You know you can tell me anythin'."

Bernice glanced at her twin. Making up her mind, she opened her mouth—

"Angels we have heard on high! Sweetly singin' o'er the plains!"

Bernice froze. "What the hell—?"

"And the mountains in reply! Echoin' their joyous strains!"

Clarice paled. "There's only one idiot annoyin' enough to come out here an' do that—"

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis Deo!"

"Yep," agreed Bernice, rolling her eyes as she recognized that prepubescent whine, "it's Gee-Tar."

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis Deo!"

Clarice groaned "An' it was such a good day, too."

"Shepherds, why this jubilee? Why your joyous strains prolong?"

"Well, it's only fair," offered Bernice wickedly. "Riff said they both gotta share, right? Well, Big Deal's already had his turn today, I guess it's Gee-Tar's now."

"What the gladsome tidin's be? Which inspire your heav'nly song?"

"How generous of ya," snipped Clarice, flopping back on her own bed with a muffled shriek.

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis Deo!"

"Thanks. Y'know, he's got an awful voice," observed Bernice complacently. "Really bad."

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis Deo!"

Clarice shot a look at her. "Yeah. I know."

"Come to Bethlehem an' see! Christ Whose birth the angels sing!"

"Wow," mused Bernice, awed in spite of herself. "He actually knows the third verse. Wonder if he'll sing the fourth?"

"Come adore on bended knee! Christ the Lord, the newborn King!"

Clarice turned pale. "There's a fourth?"

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis Deo!"

"Yup," nodded Bernice helpfully. "But don' worry, he prob'ly won't know it."

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis Deo!"

"Maybe he'll just go away," Clarice wished faintly.

"See him in a manger laid! Whom the choirs of angels praise!"

"Maybe," agreed Bernice cheerfully, feeling her spirits lift unaccountably as Gee-Tar proved that he did, in fact, know the fourth stanza, "an' maybe Ice'll let me jingle his, uh, bells sometime."

"Mary, Joseph, lend your aid! While our hearts in love we raise!"

Clarice shot her a withering glare. "Classy."

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis Deo!"

Bernice smirked. "Ain't I, though?"

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis De-e-ooo!"

Clarice perked up. "That's the end of the song, right?" she hazarded. "No more verses left."

Silence.

"Yeah, I think he's done," said a slightly disappointed Bernice, who rather liked seeing her prim-and-proper sister reduced to howls of frustration.

Clarice breathed a sigh of relief. Then:

"Angels we have heard on high! Sweetly singin' o'er the plains!"

Apparently, thought Bernice, her lips twitching, Gee-Tar only knew one Christmas carol.

"Mon Dieu," groaned Clarice, grabbing Bernice's pillow and pressing it over her ears. "Will he never shut up?"

"And the mountains in reply! Echoin' their joyous strains!"

Bernice smirked, taking a perverse pleasure in seeing her sister so harassed. "Aww, I think it's sweet. He likes ya."

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis Deo!"

"Then he oughta serenade you, if ya think it's so cute," retorted Clarice through gritted teeth.

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis Deo!"

Bernice cackled. "No, thanks, sister dear."

"Shepherds, why this jubilee? Why your joyous strains prolong?"

Clarice sat up abruptly. "I can't take this anymore," she announced. "I'm goin' back to Frankie's."

"What the gladsome tidin's be? Which inspire your heav'nly song?"

Bernice perked up. "Can I come, too?"

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis Deo!"

Clarice glared at her. "No."

And with that, she grabbed her purse and hurried out of the room.

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis Deo!"

Bernice sat back, disappointed. She'd just been starting to feel the teensiest bit better, and now she was alone again. Boy, she thought grumpily, she sure had the abiiity to clear a room.

"GLOOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOO-O-O-O-O-OOORIA! In excelsis Deo!"

Bernice rolled her eyes. This was getting old. Grabbing her shoes, and, after some thought, Clarice's abandoned box of chocolates, she wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and headed for the window.

As she crawled out, a snow-covered Gee-Tar looked up hopefully. His face fell as he saw the other Gambini twin appear. "Oh. Hi, Bernice," he said morosely. "Clarice in there?"

Bernice scoffed down at him. "Hell, no, she lit outta there when she heard ya wailin'."

Gee-Tar's shoulders sagged. "I guess she don' like that song," he muttered. "D'ya know where she went?"

"No clue," said Bernice delicately. She did, of course, know exactly where Clarice had gone (and if Gee-Tar hadn't been so stupid, he'd have figured it out by now, too), but the code of sisterhood and the Jet girls dictated that she cover for her missing twin. Even if that meant putting up with idiots like Gee-Tar.

"Oh," he sighed. "Well, any chance she'll be comin' back soon?" he asked hopefully.

Bernice shrugged expansively. "She didn' say."

"Oh. Well, I guess I'll wait, then," reflected Gee-Tar seriously.

Bernice stifled a groan. "Ya ain't gonna sing again, are ya?"

Gee-Tar reddened. "I ain't that bad."

Bernice stared. "Yeah. Ya kinda are." She moved to the railing of the fire escape and swept the snow off the wire mesh floor and first step and onto the ground below. She had to stifle a snort when she heard Gee-Tar's muttered curses; her aim was definitely better than his singing. But still, bad company was better than no company at all… "Tell ya what," she proposed, plopping down onto the now-exposed fire escape, her feet on the step, "if ya promise not to sing again, I might stay out here an' keep ya company."

Gee-Tar cocked his head. "Why would ya do that?"

Bernice stiffened. "I—y'know, no one's around, an' it's kinda borin' without Clarice there bein', well—borin'," she stumbled, caught off guard. She hesitated, knowing that she was going to regret saying this, but went ahead, anyway. "An', well—it's Christmas, I guess. Ain't we s'posed to be nice right now?"

Gee-Tar looked curiously up at her. "Yeah," he said after a pause. "I guess we are." He sighed. "Wish Clarice was here, too, then we'd all be havin' fun, y'know?"

Bernice eyed him, feeling a twinge of pity. She didn't know the Jet very well, other than what she'd seen and heard of his puppyish fascination with her twin, and she couldn't help but feel a little bad for him. Clarice was never, ever going to like him—Bernice couldn't blame her, either—and the boy just had no idea. Bernice sighed; then, making sure she had his attention, held out a corner of her blanket.

Gee-Tar furrowed his brow up at her. "Huh?"

"Oh, just c'mere," snapped Bernice, embarrassed. "It's cold."

Gee-Tar shrugged, and, making his way to the stair, clambered clumsily up the fire escape and settled down on the step next to Bernice, awkwardly taking the blanket half she offered him.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

Bernice looked skyward, just as ill at ease as he was, and shrugged. "Yeah."

"So, uh, Merry Christmas," said Gee-Tar uncomfortably.

"Merry Christmas," returned Bernice, equally volubly.

Gee-Tar scratched his head. "So…you an' Clarice share a room?" he offered, in an attempt at conversation.

Bernice raised an eyebrow. She could only imagine how that bit of information was going to figure into his strategy for seducing her twin. "Yep."

Gee-Tar exhaled. "Oh."

Bernice smirked. Yeah, she thought smugly, she'd definitely rained on his parade more than a little bit. "Spoil your plans?"

Gee-Tar's head whipped around and he stared, wide-eyed at her. "Uh—no?"

Bernice snorted. "Yeah, right."

Gee-Tar sighed. "Well, you try bein' romantic with everyone an' his ma around," he muttered darkly. "Look, Bernice, ya gotta help me out, here. I'm doin' everythin' I can think of, an' I know she ain't the kinda girl to let on that she likes me that much, or tell Big Deal to shove off, but it's hard, y'know? Not bein' able to call her my girl."

Bernice chewed on her lip. She hated to admit it, but she was actually feeling a little sorry for the guy. He was just so…clueless. And Clarice couldn't care less. She glanced over at him. "Why're ya so stuck on her, anyway?"

"Well, she's real pretty," began Gee-Tar, "an' real nice, an'—well, she's just a classy dame, y'know?" He shrugged. "Can't really explain it, but y'know how it is when ya meet someone, an' then ya just—like 'em. Just 'cause."

Bernice stared at him, repulsed. Gee-Tar, she decided, was more girl than she was. "You're pathetic."

"Yeah, well," Gee-Tar mumbled, his ears turning red. "You're a chick, right? Don't ya know how it feels when ya just can't get your mind off someone? Even if it's stupid an' it don' make sense?"

Bernice bit her lip. Gee-Tar's words were hitting a little too close to home. "I don't know. Maybe," she hedged, hoping he would talk about something, anything else. Like Clarice's cute little ears or something.

"That, an' her ears're real cute," admitted Gee-Tar, his own ears red.

Bernice gaped open-mouthed at him. When she could talk again, she whacked him severely over the head. "Gee-Tar. Shut up."

"Yes, ma'am," muttered Gee-Tar, before subsiding into a pensive silence.

Bernice fidgeted, popping a cherry-flavored chocolate in her mouth. There he was again, doing that thing again, where he made her feel sorry for him. It was even more annoying than Clarice's all-too-understanding psychiatrist voice, because whereas Clarice was at least family, Gee-Tar was most decidedly not and never would be. At this thought, she shuddered and gulped the chocolate down, shaking her head vigorously. If Clarice ever gave Gee-Tar the time of day, Bernice decided, she would happily kill her sister. Even if she was family.

Gee-Tar looked askance at her. "You okay?"

Bernice glanced at him. "Huh? Oh, yeah," she nodded, looking around for a distraction. "Chocolate?" she offered, holding out one of the ones that looked like it didn't have any filling in it—she was definitely saving those for herself.

"Okay," shrugged Gee-Tar, taking the chocolate. He stuck it in his mouth and chewed experimentally. "'S pretty good, where'd ya get it?"

Bernice shut her mouth with a snap. "Um. I—don't remember. A—guy, I guess," she fumbled.

"Oh," said Gee-Tar wisely. "Well, he must be a good guy. An' I bet he likes ya a lot. Otherwise he wouldn' try so hard."

The corner of Bernice's mouth twitched. Gee-Tar was ridiculously close to the truth—just not in the way he thought. "Ya think so?"

Gee-Tar nodded seriously. "I mean, ya might not know this, but us guys'll do a lot for chicks we like," he said, looking faintly embarrassed. "Even if they ain't as encouragin' as we'd like."

Bernice considered this. "An' if ya don' like her?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Gee-Tar tilted his head. "What? Gee, I don' know," he shrugged uncomfortably. "I guess we just don' talk to her all that much."

"Yeah," sighed Bernice discontentedly, remembering the way Tony's eyes had just slid past her for the past year. "That's what I thought."

Gee-Tar finally seemed to grasp her mood. "Hey," he said, glancing at her again. "You okay?"

"What? Yeah," said Bernice impatiently, shaking her head. "God, what is it with people askin' that today?"

"Uh," stumbled Gee-Tar, his face slightly red, "I don' know, maybe ya look…I don' know, like somethin' ain't okay."

"Well, it is," snapped Bernice. "Okay, I mean. Whatever 'it' is."

Gee-Tar held up his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I was just askin'."

Bernice sighed and propped her chin on her hands. "Why would ya do that?" she asked lowly. "It's my sister ya like, not me."

Gee-Tar shifted his weight. "See," he said slowly, "it's Christmas. An' someone tol' me we're s'posed to be nice on Christmas."

Bernice turned her head and gazed at him. "Well, that person was an idiot," she said defiantly. "Wishful thinkin'. The world ain't ever gonna be like that, least of all on West Side."

"I don' know," Gee-Tar disagreed slowly. "I kinda think that person ain't so dumb." He twisted to look at her. Gee-Tar was so close that Bernice could see the pale eyelashes around his blue eyes.

"Yeah, well, you're an idiot, too," she sighed, still watching him.

Gee-Tar winced. "Gee, thanks. Still. At least you've got company, then, huh?"

Bernice stared at him. He was actually right, she thought, amazed. She wasn't alone, at least not literally. And with Gee-Tar there, she didn't have to be. Bernice pursed her lips. Really, she thought grudgingly as the Jet stared awkwardly off into space, the guy wasn't nearly as awful as Clarice made him out to be…

And then, before she knew what she was doing, Bernice leaned forward and found his mouth with hers.

She didn't see stars, but then, she only ever had once, anyway. Gee-Tar stiffened at first, but as Bernice pressed her lips into his, he relaxed, slid his hand around her neck. He tasted like iced tea and mint, a far cry from the cigarettes and chewing gum of his friends, and Bernice, pushing away her loneliness through the boy beside her, let her hands creep forward around his back.

Gee-Tar broke away first, awkwardly lurching backwards to stare at her. He swallowed convulsively. "So."

"So," returned Bernice. They were still so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body inside the cocoon of the blanket.

Gee-Tar swallowed. "Bernice, I—"

"I ain't my sister," she interrupted evenly, eyes tracing the angular planes of his face.

Gee-Tar shrugged uneasily. "An' I ain't whoever it is you're thinkin' of."

Bernice's eyebrows shot up. Whatever else she thought of him, Gee-Tar was apparently at least a little smarter than she gave him credit for. "Yeah, well, maybe it don' matter right now," she said carefully, hating that she was actually hoping he wouldn't disagree, that he'd stay and let her feel just the least bit—well, not loved, exactly, but—not alone.

Gee-Tar gazed at her for a long moment, not moving. Then, just as Bernice began cursing her own stupidity again, he nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said. "I guess not." Gee-Tar glanced upward at the sky, which was beginning to darken. "So what now?"

The question hung in the air. Bernice blinked. She didn't know how to answer. The next step was both obvious and not obvious; it was whether or not they chose to take it that was the problem.

Did she want to? Gee-Tar wasn't bad to look at, thought Bernice, and as long as he kept his mouth shut about Clarice, she wasn't averse to letting him make her feel wanted. Which was really all she wanted, when it came down to it. And it was plain that Gee-Tar did want her, even if it wasn't in the same way that he wanted her sister.

He certainly wasn't Tony, thought Bernice with a sigh, but maybe, just for tonight, she could lose herself in her fantasies and pretend he was.

Bernice made up her mind. Getting to her feet, she gathered the blanket around herself, took the three steps to her window, and held out her hand to a wary Gee-Tar.

"C'mon in already," she said, the corner of her mouth quirking up into a rueful half-smile. "It's cold."

And Gee-Tar glanced at her, shrugged, and took her hand. "Okay."

.

.end.

Music: Well, this was a no-brainer: Josh Groban and Brian McKnight's version of "Angels We Have Heard on High," which is quite possibly the best recording of this song in the history of ever. I kid you not. Also, I listened to Philippe Rombi's gorgeous score for Joyeux Noel for a bit while writing last night. :)

Hint: Midge and Mouthpiece. Expect a theatre of the absurd. :)

love, viennacantabile