I'm dreamin' tonight of a place I love
Even more then I usually do
And although I know it's a long road back
I promise you
I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents under the tree
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light beams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams
            I'll Be Home For Christmas - Michael Bublé 

December 21, 2004 08:08:32
An Undisclosed Military Base, Roswell, New Mexico

She lay on the floor in the interrogation room on her back, legs stretched straight up the wall, crossed at the ankles as she monotonously tossed a tennis ball against the same wall right where it met the ceiling.  It bounced hard, each time making a dull whapping sound before it shot back to her, and she took a perverse pleasure in the gray smudges it made on the stark white wall with each hit.

Whap.  Catch.  Whap.  Catch.

She caught the ball each time with her left hand.  Her right lay relaxed on her stomach, unconsciously cupping the spark of life growing there.

Whap.  Catch.  Whap.  Catch.

She'd been there three days. Three days in which she'd seen no one but Summers.  Both days he escorted her to interrogation, led her inside the cold sterile room, then left her there to sit in one of the two metal chairs pulled up against a single table facing a long two way window on the opposite wall.  For hours she stayed there, while Summers stood outside the door.  So she sat.  By herself.  For the better part of three days. 

Whap.  Catch.  Whap.  Catch.

Isolation.  Sleep depravation. Hunger.  Thirst.  Cold.  Standard interrogation tactics, designed to break down a prisoner.  She knew that.  But she was neither starved nor cold.  She had access to water at all times, her own latrine attached to her quarters, and her cot was damn near comfy.  Even her fatigues fit and were clean.  Summers brought her meals - all of them - and collected her laundry each day.  Except for the constantly locked door to her quarters and the isolation, they weren't exactly treating her like a prisoner.  Then again, they weren't treating her like one of their own either. 

Summers had told her in New Orleans that he wanted to speak to her.  The he being the Old Man.  Not their unit chief.  That rat-bastard got away, and he'd better hope to God she never laid eyes on him again.  Her lip curled at the thought of him, and she pushed it aside.  Then she shivered.  If he ever got his hands on her though….

The Old Man…Colonel Decker.  She'd not seen him once since she arrived.  She couldn't help but wonder what he wanted to know so badly that he was keeping her locked up to get it.  What wouldn't she voluntarily tell him if he but asked?  Not a damn thing.  He had her ultimate loyalty.  He was the kind of man she'd follow barefoot through Hell itself just to take a bullet for him.  He could ask her to fall on her knife and she wouldn't even consider hesitating.

Well, she wouldn't have before…before she got pregnant.  Her curled fingers clenched a little tighter on her abdomen.  She threw the ball again.

Whap.  Catch.  Whap.  Catch.

Three days since she left Kong sleeping in their honeymoon suite, and gone with Summers to reclaim her life.  Correction, her old life.  One she wasn't even sure anymore that she really wanted.

Whap.  Catch.  Whap.  Catch.

She shook herself in a full body shudder.  Didn't matter what she wanted.  The Army owned her, body and soul.  Nothing she could do about that.  She sighed. 

She was really getting sick of the interrogation room walls.  From sun up to sun down she was locked in here.  Took all of her meals here, seeing only Summers when he brought them, and then again when he escorted her back to her quarters, only to lock her in at night. 

He never spoke.  Even when she spoke to him, he held his silence.  He had to be acting on regs, she told herself.  Stoic, he may have always been, but mute he definitely wasn't.  Only orders from the Old Man would shut him up. 

But this morning he'd broken protocol.  With barely mouthed words - only four - he'd passed her a knife that she quickly palmed and slid down her leg into a hidden sheath in her fatigues.  Whatever was going down, it was going down today.  And she needed to be ready…thus the reason for the deceptively relaxed sprawl on the floor.

Whap.  Catch.  Whap.  Catch.

She glanced at the clock on the wall near where the tennis ball repeatedly struck.  Almost time for Summers to show up with breakfast.

Whap.  Catch.  Whap.  Catch.

Only when the door opened, it wasn't Summers.

Genie rotated her head on the floor to see someone she never thought she'd see again.  Average height, athletic build, brown military brush cut, deep brown eyes under heavy brows, he looked just the same.  The only new thing was a thick brown Magnum PI style mustache.  It made him look too much like her father.   She fought a sudden rush of bile as the tennis ball fell forgotten from her fingers.

In a move worthy of a Hollywood action flick, she pushed her boots against the wall, and vaulted herself backward and up into an impressive springboard back flip, landing deftly on her toes.  She kept her head low, her whole body tense and crouched ready to spring.  Her upper lip curled back into a snarl and her right fist came up partially into a defensive posture.  It was a meaningless stance, since she couldn't actually take a swing.  But he didn't know that and it left her uninjured left arm, dangling loosely at her thigh where she'd hidden the knife Summers had given her.

"What?"  He smirked at her.  "No loving words of greeting?  No Oh thank god you're all right?  No heartfelt embraces?"  He puckered his lips at her in a mockery of a kiss.  "I think my feelings are hurt."

"What the hell are you doing here?" She bit the question out through clenched teeth, now realizing her lock-up had probably been on his orders and not the Old Man's.  She hoped to hell that Decker knew she was even here.  Or she'd never see anyone alive ever again.  But then she remembered the low words Summers had mouthed at her as he passed her the knife. 

He knows.  Trust me. 

An eerily cold calm spread through her limbs as she knew what was coming.  She needed to buy some time.  Arguing was one of her stronger attributes.  She decided to use it now.  "How the hell did you find me?"

He shook his head, grinning.  "Wasn't easy."  Crossing the room, he dropped a folder onto the table, hefted his thigh up onto the edge, and settled there, fingers interlaced and braced on his leg.  He nodded his head at the still vacant chair.  "Sit."

"Fuck you."

"That's an order, Captain."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she snarled.  "Fuck you, sir."

Chuckling, he ran a finger over his mustache, bringing a fresh wave of nausea to her stomach.  It was the same gesture her father used to use before he did something that either left her in tears or screaming.  Odd that Kong's mustache didn't bother her at all.  She kind of even liked the rough burn it gave her.  The thought gave her pause.

But then all traces of humor vanished from his face, leaving her staring at the monster beneath the man she once thought had everything she'd ever wanted in a mate.  She'd never been so wrong in her life, and it gagged her to think of just how wrong she'd been. 

"Sit down, Bass.  Or I'll seat you."

Genie weighed her options quickly.  Under normal circumstances she could take him down in a split second and they both knew it.  But these weren't normal circumstances.  She was injured.  And he was still a superior officer, whether he deserved to be or not. 

She sat.

Major Thomas Hoern nodded at her, a small smile tilting up the corner of his mouth and he nodded.  "See?  We get along just fine.  When you follow orders," he added in an icy tone.

Blue-black eyes flashing, she glared at him.  "I always followed orders, sir."

"Oh really?" he asked, reaching over to flip open the file he'd tossed onto the table.  He flipped through three or four pages, then stopped, and tapped a page.  "So that's why your report from that night clearly states you acted against orders and left the barracks."

Genie thinned her lips and said nothing.

Hoern sighed.  "Bass, the night you were injured, five of our finest died.  Yet you lived.  Because you acted against orders.  Now why is that?"

"Why do you think I left."

"You're more comfortable asking the question than answering them, I take it?"

She rolled her shoulder.  "I guess I'm not used to being interrogated like a suspect."

Hoern frowned at her.  "Suspect?  Who said you were a suspect?  Has anyone read you your Article 31 Rights?"

She glared at him.  "You know they haven't, which means someone's playing a very risky game, sir.  But when did GHoST ever bother with protocols?  Isn't that the definition of GHoST?  We operate outside of conventional regulations, remember?

He chuckled again.  "I wonder how the Colonel would feel about one of his top officers not cooperating in the investigation of the deaths of five men under his command?"

She grinned, the pure malice in her smile giving him pause.  "Why don't we call him and find out, sir."

"I'm sure you wish I would do that, don't you Captain Bass?"

"Nash."

His brows knitted.  "What?"

"It's Nash.  Not Bass."

"Yeah.  You.  Married.  That was amusing to find out."  Hoern laughed.  "Tell, me Captain.  Does your new husband know how you served your country?  How many lives ended because of you?  How many people have you killed, Bass?  I'm sorry…Nash.  How many official confirmed kills are on your record?"

Genie pursed her lips and kept silent with a bare shake of her head. 

He chuckled, then changed his wording.  "All right.  We'll play it your way for now.  How many acquired targets then."

She bit back a curse, but answered.  "I've officially completed twenty-two successful missions, sir."

"And unofficially?"

"Unknown," she growled.

"But you know," he prodded.  "Tell me."

"At last count, it was close to sixty."

He gave a low whistle.  "Sixty-seven, to be precise, Captain.  Sixty-seven people have died at your hands."

Sixty-eight, she corrected him silently, thinking that he wasn't counting about her first kill.  The one that took place before she'd joined up.  But only two other people in the whole world knew about that one.  And they'd all go to their graves before they breathed a word to anyone over it.

"It's an impressive number," he went on.  "Not as high as Hathcock or Mawhinney, but still impressive."

She shook her head.  "Not even comparable."

"And why do you say that?"

"They were Marine snipers.  I'm not," Genie retorted. 

"No, you're definitely no sniper," he nodded.  "You know your military history.  Another impressive thing about you.  But then again, you always were the best I'd ever had."  Hoern flashed a knowing smirk. 

She wanted to wipe it off for him.  With the underside of his scrotum.  And she would if he gave her just one single second...

"You know, Bass, I don't like how things ended between us in Iraq.  It wasn't supposed to end that way."  He leaned over and curled his fingers around her injured shoulder and squeezed.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she snarled.  "And how were they supposed to end, sir?  What did you think I'd do when I found out what you'd done?  What you'd try to set up our whole team to have done?"

"I didn't think you would betray me!"  He slammed his hand down on the table top with such force and speed, she was sure she heard the wood crack.  "Loyalty!  That's what I prized most in you!  And you tried to turn me in!" 

"Tried?  I did turn you in, Hoern."

He ran a hand over his hair.  "Yeah. you did.  And that was really hard to get past, let me tell you.  But tell me one thing, Nash.  Why did you care so much about them?  Why them and not me, Captain?  If I remember correctly, you told me I meant almost everything to you once."

Fighting nausea at the memory his words provoked, she shook her head.  "The key word there was almost."

"They were nothing.  Nothing."

"Wrong.  They were people!"  She yelled at him, finally losing the tenuous grip on her temper.  "Women and children!  And we were there to protect them.  Not sell them to the highest bidder!"

He shrugged unconcernedly.  "It's a lucrative business, and has been for centuries."

"Go to Hell."

He grinned again leaning in just close enough that she could almost bite him.  Almost.  "Careful there, Bass."

"It's Nash, you sick fuck."

"You're getting dangerously close to insubordination, Captain."

She flashed an evil smile.  "And you're closer to castration than you realize." 

It took a moment for her threat to register, but he went completely still when it did, sparing only the slightest movement to glance down and see the glint of her blade scant millimeters away from his groin.  It would only take one slip of her hand and...

"Stand up.  Slowly," she hissed, rising with him as he did, keeping the tip of her blade pressed very lightly at the apex of his thighs. 

He snarled at her, his eyes alight with a demented joy at her challenge.  "The worst mistake you made was when you turned me in, but then left me alive."

"It won't be repeated."

"I'm going to make you scream in ways you only dream about in nightmares, Captain.  And then, once I'm tired of it, I'll kill you.  Slowly."  Swallowing in anticipation, Hoern's dark eyes flashed with hate and lust.  "You won't get away from me this time."

Genie allowed herself another small smirk.  "I already have."

"I think that's all we need." A voice sounded from the doorway.  "I'll take it from here, Captain."

They both turned, startled, to see Colonel Marcus Decker standing there, flanked by two MPs.  With a barely there tilt of his head, he motioned them forward.  "Marshall, Weston," he spoke to the two MPs.  "Take Major Hoern into custody."

"Colonel…I…she…"

Decker shook his head, a cold blank mask as he stared down his officer.  "Shut up, Hoern.  Summers, escort the Major to Interrogation Thirteen."

Hoern's face blanched as Lieutenant Summers stepped into the room with a positively evil grin on his handsome face.  "Surprise."

"You…you're supposed to be dead."

"Yeah, I get that a lot lately."  Summers' evil grin broadened as the MPs wrestled Hoern to the floor, snapping shackles and chains around his wrists that lead to his ankles, effectively hobbling the other man.

The MPs hustled their prisoner out of the door, and Summers stopped to look back at Genie, his smile gentling into something more pleasant.  "Captain," he said with a salute, and then was gone. 

~*~*~

Summers and Hoern walked silently down an empty corridor towards a closed steel door at the other end, their boots making almost no noise on the gleaming white tile floor.  The two MPs followed them, always at the ready, but staying a pace or two behind.

"She'll turn on you too, you know." Hoern muttered, never slowing in his stride.

"Shut up."

"You know I'm right," Hoern continued on, pausing at the end of the corridor to allow the younger man to open the door.  He expected the lieutenant to follow him through then close the door behind them.

But he didn't close the door.  Instead the two MPs pushed Hoern into a pitch black room, where he stumbled before leaning heavily up against a wall.  His whole body went stiff when a muscled arm curled around Hoern's neck from behind.  Summers anchored the older man against the wall with his own body. 

The soft snick of a blade extending galvanized the Hoern into action.  He immediately began to struggle, bucking backwards trying to get the lieutenant away from him.  With his hands shackled in front of him, and chained to his ankles, he couldn't get the leverage he needed.  But he struggled anyway.  The tip of the blade pressing at the base of his skull froze all movement.

"Wait!"  Hoern panted, his brain scrambling desperately for a way out.  "You can't let him do this," he called to the MPs.

"I don't see nothin'," the bigger of the two rumbled.  "Do you, Weston?"

"Nope.  Not a damn thing, Marshall."

Panic stricken, Hoern turned a cajoling tone back on Summers.  "You don't have to do this.  I've…I've got money…lots of it…it's yours..."

"Not interested."

"I'll give you anything!"  He bargained furiously.  "Anything.  Anything you want, you've got it!  What do you want?"

There was long tense moment of silence before Summers answered, "For you to tell Satan hello.  In person."

Panic gave way to anger and he lashed out verbally.  "What the hell did she ever give you for you to be so fucking lap-dog loyal, huh?"

"My life," Summers replied as the blade of his knife slid home, silencing Hoern's mutterings. 

Permanently.

~*~*~

Still standing at attention, Genie stared fixedly at a spot on the far wall.  And waited.

"At ease, Captain."  Once she relaxed, Decker stooped down to retrieve the wayward tennis ball.  He waived a hand at the chair she'd recently vacated.  Genie blinked then slowly sat back down.

Colonel Decker sat down opposite her and tapped the table.  "We're not done."

"Sir?"

"How do we finish this, Nash?  Up to you."

She looked around, then up at the ceiling, then finally back down to level her gaze on his.  Ice-blue eyes, filled with concern, met hers.  "I fucked up, Sir."

Decker shook his head.  "No.  You did the right thing.  You did your job."

"My job."  She snorted and looked down, her cheeks warming a bit.  "I let hormones blind me to what Hoern was doing.  I didn't want to see it.  And when I finally couldn't look the other way any more, it was too late.  Twenty-nine women and children, over the span of two years, he sold them like cattle to the slaughter and pocketed the cash.  And when he thought I was on to him, he blew up the barracks, making it look like an insurgent did it.  He killed them.  All of them.  Reid, Caillen, McGee, and Booth, all dead.  My whole team.  Gone."  

The Colonel made a rumbling noise in his throat.  "Summers is alive because of you.  You went back into the barracks after the first explosion and dragged him out, tripping another mine as you went.  It ruined your shoulder and almost your career.  But he lived.  Because of you."

"I should have died with them.  If I'd done something sooner, they'd all be alive today." 

"You don't know that," Decker spoke gently.

"Don't I?  It's my fault they're dead.  And my fault that all of those women and children now live every minute of every day in a hell I can't even begin to fathom."  She lifted agonized eyes.  "How do I live with that, sir?   

A determined look met hers.  "By making sure it never happens again."

Her chin wobbled precariously.  "How?"

"I've got a proposition for you."  Decker leaned back in his chair and grinned at her.  "If you're interested." 

-x-

I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you
            All I Want For Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey 

December 21, 2:23 p.m.
I40 & I85 West Headed Towards Moccasin Gap, NC 

He was at his wits end.  And damn near positive he'd all but scalped himself with the constant tugging at his hair, running his fingers through it in frustration.  No one had seen her.  Correction, no one had seen where she'd gone.

The doorman had seen her leave with a man who fit the description of the guy he'd thought he'd seen talking to her outside the Café DuMonde the night before.  Kevin's teeth clenched into a fierce scowl.  He didn't know who that asshole was, but when he got his hands on him…

He wouldn't do a damn thing.  He sighed. Face it, Nash, he chided himself silently.  You're so tied up in knots over your wife that if that guy showed up right now, you'd beg him to tell you where she was. 

He'd love to say it was only about the baby she carried that he cared about.  But he knew better.  He loved the woman.  Had since he first met her, he figured. Back in '94, when he'd given her that horrible nickname that she'd punched him stupid for.  But he couldn't help it.  Squirrel seemed to fit her somehow.  And not for the reasons he'd told her at the time. 

Granted, it had taken talking with Nan about her, and those wonderful days they'd spent in New Orleans, to know that not only was he hooked, but that he was also reeled in, stuffed, and mounted on her wall.  Yeah, they'd only been together those few days.  But that didn't change the fact that he was in love with Genie Bass. 

Nash, he corrected himself.  He liked the sound of that.  But the grin faded.  Now he just had to convince the woman in question that they had a future together.  But he had to find her first.  He hated to admit it, but it looked like she didn't want to be found.

Suddenly his cell chirped.  He looked at the caller ID, and damn near dropped the thing into the super-sized cup of coffee next to it in the console.  The number on the screen was her grandmother's.

"Nash," he spoke tersely, tense with anticipation.  Please let it be her.

It wasn't.  "Hey there Big Sexy!"

"Hey, Miss Millie," he answered dejectedly. 

"Now that's no way to sound this close to Christmas," she scolded gently.  "What's got you so down, youngun?"

And that seemed to be all it took.  Just having her ask, and he spilled his guts.  He told her all about their spur of the moment trip to New Orleans, their even more unplanned wedding.  How well they'd gotten along.  And even her disappearance.  Everything. 

"Don't you worry, son."  Millie spoke gently, but with a hint of steel in her words when he'd finished.  "My granddaughter can more than take care of herself.  She'll turn back up when she's damn good and ready, and not a minute sooner.  In the mean time, you come on home and spend Christmas with your family.  'Cuz we are ya know."

"I know," he murmured.  "Thanks."

"No thanks needed.  That's what family's about.  So when do I look for you?"

Kevin chuckled.  "I'm actually on my way there now.  I'd decided to try there, hoping she'd show up and I could talk some sense into her.  Or maybe you could, Miss Mille."

The old lady snorted at that.  "Humph.  Ain't none but Ndúchu - that's how you say Lyon in Apache, by the way - ever been able to talk sense into that gal when she got an idea in her head.  Well him and Sally of course.  And stop with the Miss Millie stuff.  Call me Shiwóyé."

"Shiwóyé," Kevin repeated slowly, rolling the odd syllables around on his tongue.  "What's it mean?"

"Grandmother.  And I for one can't wait for Game and Sally to hear you call me that," she cackled.  "Come home, Bachύ.  Your Doolé will show up when it's time."

"And those words mean?"

"Doolé means butterfly.  Genie was named that at birth.  Her mother, my beautiful Dutlíshǐ Ǎt, Blue Mist, may she rest in peace, named her that after having a dream of a black and blue butterfly and a silver wolf chasing each other until they tired out then settled to rest in the shade of Father Mountain together.  She told Genie that story over and over again, to make sure that Genie knew that she was that butterfly.  And she's always looked for her wolf.  But she's too damn dense to realize she found him many years ago, but let him get away," Millie explained.

Kevin felt like he'd been doused in cold water.  He'd had that same dream.  At least twice since meeting Genie again in Cleveland.  And damn if that didn't explain that odd conversation they'd had about her being a butterfly. 

Nodding like she could see him, he asked, "And Bachύ?"

A split second of silence met his ears, until she muttered a curse under her breath.  "God I worry about that baby with parents as stupid as you two.  Bachύ  means wolf, Kevin.  You're the wolf she's been looking for all her life.  And the one she let get away." 

-x-

Do you remember me?
I sat upon your knee
I wrote to you with childhood fantasies
Well I'm all grown-up now
And still need help somehow
I'm not a child
But my heart still can dream
            Grown Up Christmas List - Amy Grant 

December 21, 2004 5:03 p.m.
Garage, Moccasin Gap, NC  

"Mrs. Helmsley," Kim Lee spoke in her normal low, emotionless tones, but with a hint of a smile this time.  "Aren't you going to go inside?"

"Inside.  Yeah.  Sure."  Nan answered absently.  Then she looked over at her bodyguard catching her eyes, seeing a sparkling light in their dark depths.  "Not a word.  Not one."

"I wouldn't dream of it."  The smile that had been merely hinted at when the two of them had left so abruptly an hour ago, now bloomed fully on the other woman's face.  "Mrs. Helmsley, do you need a minute?"

"Would you mind?"

Kim shook her head.  "Not at all.  I'll wait until you get inside before I make my rounds and head back to the gatehouse."

Nan nodded, barely even paying attention as the bodyguard got out of the vehicle and then simply faded  from view in that unsettling way she had.

The day had started out so boringly busy, Nan thought.  Breakfast with her husband and children - the mere thought curled her lips in a beatific smile - and then massive grocery shopping with Lilly.  There had been so much to get, and so much to do, that she felt like she'd hit the ground running and was still two lengths behind.

Christmas was a time for family and  this being their first back in North Carolina, Nan and Hunter had volunteered for the Elliott family gathering to be at their house, rather than Brun's or Angela's, as was the custom of most years past.  Lord knew they had the room.  But for some reason, Christmas around Nan's family never had been confined exclusively to family.  Friends in abundance would be coming and going for the next few days as well.

They'd have a house - and guest house - full.  Tina had already informed them that she was staying in the boathouse studio apartment, since she really didn't feel like leaving Moccasin Gap now that she was already there for the wedding.  She just moved in right after Stacy and John had left that night.  Of course, Nan smirked silently, she would almost place bets that the young beauty hadn't been there by herself while she and Hunter been on their honeymoon.  She shrugged.  Tina was an adult and knew what she was doing.  And if she didn't, it was high time she started.  Even so, Dave wasn't there now, but rather in San Francisco with his mother for the holidays. 

Robbie and Katie had gone back to Wilmington after the wedding, and promised to be back for Christmas Eve services at church.  Christmas seemed to be the great equalizer though for family grudges.  Brun had relented this time, unlike he did at the wedding, saying Robbie and Katie could stay with them for the holidays.

Nan smiled, that still left her house practically bursting at the seams.  Lyon was already living in the Carriage house until the WWE went back on the road after New Year's, and Miss Millie hadn't left for Arizona yet. 

Jinx had moved in to the apartment over Miss Millie's florist shop that he'd bought shortly after his arrival in Moccasin Gap.  But he still would be at Lyon's Cove for the festivities, having fallen completely in love with Hannah and Jack upon first glimpse.  Matter of fact, she thought, that'd been his car that they'd passed coming up the driveway.  He was on his way out, and she felt a niggle of curiosity over what had brought him over today, then quickly dismissed it, knowing it was either the kids or Lilly.  She couldn't help but wonder, though, when Lilly was going to put the poor man out of his misery and admit they were more than just former co-workers and friends.

Speaking of Lilly, Nan's erratic train of though jumped the tracks again.  The older lady was still staying upstairs, as well as were Jack and Hannah in their own rooms.  Rosie and Chris would claim another bedroom.  That left only two bedrooms upstairs unclaimed for any strays that might show up unannounced.  And she really hoped one would be claimed by her missing friend.

She gave a heavy sigh, hoping that Genie would come home for Christmas, regardless of wherever she'd disappeared to.  It was beginning to worry her.  It wasn't like Genie to be gone this long without checking in with her grandmother.  Nan knew - in spite of the reassurances that she'd been given by both Miss Millie and Lyon, that Genie was most likely with Kevin and therefore was in good hands, that her grandmother and brother were starting to get concerned as well.

"Damn it, Genie, where'd you go?" But no answer was forthcoming.  She'd even tried Deez's cell but it kept going straight to voicemail.

Now she sat in the driver's seat of her black Mustang, her fingers clenched tightly on the steering wheel.  So many changes had happened in the past few days that her mind was still spinning to keep up with it all.  Marriage.  Honeymoon.  The kids.  Coming home.  Genie's disappearance after the reception.  Poli's house burning down.  Bo and Poli's seeming reconciliation.  Lyon deciding little Sam was far too interesting to ignore anymore.  Getting the house ready for the Elliott Family Christmas.

And that lead her spiraling thoughts back to her abrupt departure from putting away the groceries.  Nan knew Lilly had to think she was either ill or crazy, given how she'd raced from the house without so much more than a hastily yelled I'll be back later.

She still couldn't believe it.  Not really.  But she'd known.  Deep down inside, she'd just known.  And she couldn't really discount it.  She had dropped the same can of cat food three times.  That was too blatantly a sign in her family to be ignored.  After all, it was how it had started the last time.  That and the haywire blood sugar problems she'd been having.  Not to mention Shawn's constant pressing of candy into her hands just as she had the overwhelming desire for some when he'd been here for the wedding. 

How could she have missed it?

Nan gave herself a firm shake.  Rosie and Chris had obviously gotten there earlier than planned, if the black Trans-Am she'd parked behind was any indication.  But she didn't recognize the light blue Crown Victoria parked in front of the Carriage House beside Genie's tricked out truck. 

Then she saw the Florida plates.  Rental car.  She doubted very seriously that Lyon had rented a car, because she knew he was using Miss Millie's car or Genie's truck while he was there.  Deez?  She gave a choked laugh at the thought and shook her head.  She'd find out soon enough, she supposed.

She looked again at the Trans-Am.  Definitely Ro's car, knowing how much her sister-in-law loved the "Kit-car" as she called it.  Chris and Rosie were supposed to go to Pebbles Mall to take the kids to see Santa for the very first time ever.  And now she had this latest wrinkle to contend with…

She nodded, glad they'd come early.  She could use the moral support, even if she didn't say anything just yet.  "Well, Christmas is a time for miracles," she murmured softly.

She glanced down at her wedding and engagement rings, and felt the stinging rush of tears hit her eyes.  Blinking furiously, she pulled the keys from the ignition and got out of the car.  She locked it and with quick, but careful steps, she sprinted from the driveway, grinning at the Trans-Am beside Hunter's red Humvee, and loped up the steps leading towards the porch and the front door.

Now all she had to do was figure out how to tell her husband.  She fought a burst of hysterical laughter, smothering it behind her hand suddenly pressed tightly up against her lips. 

Hunter was gonna flip.   

-x- 

In this room where shadows live
And ghosts that failed learn time forgives
Welcome, friends, please stay awhile
Our story starts with one small child
Who spends this night in attics dark
Where dreams are stored like sleeping hearts
And so it's here that they must wait
Till someone wishes them awake
For somewhere on this night of nights
She's looking to believe
Here among the ghosts on Christmas Eve
            The Ghosts of Christmas Eve - Trans-Siberian Orchestra 

December 22, 2004  10:39 a.m. EST
2^nd Floor Hallway, Lyon's Cove, Moccasin Gap, NC 

"So why's he here then?" Rosie asked Nan as they climbed the stairs up to the second floor bedrooms, and made their way down the balustrade to the closed attic door at the far end.  "Not that I mind, of course.  Just curious."

Nan shook her head, her long ponytail swishing across her shoulder blades, making an interesting contrast to the bright green Christmas Vacation sweatshirt she wore.  Rosie couldn't help but grin, thinking her sister-in-law looked a bit like a Christmas tree with the brown corduroy jeans, green shirt and, coppery red hair.  And she herself favored a teenage groupie, she grimaced, glancing down at her faded blue jeans and Icehouse concert T-shirt. 

"No idea really.  All I know is that he and Genie left our reception together and headed for New Orleans.  Now he's here and no one seems to know where Genie is."

"Will he be joining us for the festivities," she asked, referring to the three days of Christmas insanity her brother and sister-in-law had described to them when they'd arrived the previous day.

"Of course.  Whether he wants to or not." she flashed an evil grin at her.  "He wouldn't dare say no to the kids, and I'm going to have Jack ask him."

As Nan dug around in her pocket for the key to unlock the attic door, Rosie murmured thoughtfully, "Might need to go shopping again.  Can't have Big Sexy not getting a pressie on Christmas."

Nan chuckled.  "I'm sure he'd like that.  But to tell the truth, something tells me all he wants for Christmas is for Genie to come home.  I tell you, Ro," she commented with a frown as she struggled with the stubborn lock on the attic door.  "If I didn't know Genie better, or Deez either, I'd be very worried about my friend right now."

Rosie agreed silently.  "You see this sort of set up all the time on those real life crime-drama shows.   Usually when they find the woman, she's been carved into little bloody bits."

"Only in this case, I'd be more worried about Deez, if I didn't know he was over at Miss Millie's safe and sound," Nan responded, steadily working at the skeleton key in the overly stubborn lock.

"Fair Dinkum?"

"Yes really," The redhead responded with a nod, grinning at her sister-in-law's use of Aussie slang.  "I've known Genie practically all my life.  No one knows what she's really capable of better than me."

Her sister-in-law gave a slightly disbelieving chuckle.  "Well, yeah, but she'd not be capable of torture and murder, surely."

"Torture's a form of art for some people.  Some of us are just better at it than others."  Nan grunted as she twisted the doorknob sharply, then kicked the corner of the door in frustration.  "And we're all capable of murder under the right circumstances.  She's capable.  More than."

Rosie grimaced as the door opened with a pop, and they both of them shivered as cold air washed over them from the dark attic stairs now looming before them.  She wasn't normally a superstitious person, but something about that attic just felt wrong to her, like the darkness had eyes.  She rubbed her arms against the sudden chill. 

Nan flipped the switch to the lights and Rosie jumped with a little yelp, her heart in her throat as she spied the dresser's dummy standing to the right of the head of the now-lit stairs. 

Laughing, she pressed a hand to her stomach, and the other to her forehead.  At Nan's questioning quirked brow, she waved a hand at the dummy and answered, "I thought it was a person standing there.  Buggar, but how stupid am I?"

Grinning, her sister-in-law motioned her forward and they started up the stairs.  "Hey, no worries.  When I get really tired, you should see some of the shit my demented psyche decides to torture me with.  I see people where there aren't any, animals running along in my periphery….very trippy stuff."

"I can imagine."

"Remind me to check the vents to see if they're blocked before we go back down.  The attic is heated.  It shouldn't be this cold up here," Nan murmured as the two of them reached the head of the stairs.

Rosie gave the offending dummy a glare then pointedly ignored it and turned to survey the attic.  Immediately, all thoughts of the feeling of being watched disappeared.  Her face lit up as she smiled.  "Wow, Nan…this looks like something out of a movie set!"

"It's something all right, isn't it?"

"I'll say," Rosie nodded, mouth slightly agape.

Grinning widely, her chocolate eyes sparkling, Nan placed both hands on her hips.  "Our junk is up here.  But most of it is Miss Millie's family's stuff.  She decided to leave it here rather than cart it off, letting me, Lyon, and Genie go through it for whatever we want later.  Promises to be fun."

Sure enough, the cavernous attic was littered with boxes, bags, chests, trunks, suitcases and all other sorts of storage containers.  Rosie even spotted sheet covered furniture, and pictures or paintings.  Treasures of the ages all ripe for the discovery, lay as far as the eye could see.  It'd be a wonderland for kids.

"You're not actually related to Miss Millie, are you?"

Nan shook her head.  "Not by blood, or marriage, no.  But as long as I've been friends with Genie, the whole family sort of adopted me.  That, and I almost married one of theirs.  The whole family is great."  A frown marred her features. "Except for Genie's father.  Evil bastard," she spat.

The Aussie brunette felt another chill at her sister-in-law's pronouncement, almost like a cold hand gripped her shoulder.  She looked behind her, fully expecting to see someone standing there.  Instead, all she found was a picture of a young couple and two children.

The woman, so very obviously Native American, had horribly sad dark eyes.  But the smile on her face detracted from the pain her dark eyes showed.  She held a black haired little boy, who couldn't have been more than three.   He had a laughing blue-black eyes and contagious smile, directed at the teenage girl standing on the other side of the woman. 

The teen wore a scowl that she recognized easily.  Genie.  She couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen in the picture, and already looked so much like the caustic woman that she'd grown into that it made Rosie almost unbearably sad, for some reason.  Whatever had made Genie like that, although she liked the woman very much, had already happened by the time that picture had been taken.  Then she noticed the man.

Rosie fought a whole body shiver as the absolute malevolence rolled over her from the cold hatred caught so plainly on his face.    He was tall.  Heavily muscled, but not quite like the wrestlers they spent so much time with.  More like a former football player, now slowly going to seed.  He had dark brown hair, and a thick brown mustache, utterly dwarfing his upper lip, which was set so sternly in a frightening frown that his mouth disappeared almost entirely under it.  Deep blue eyes radiated an intensity that for a moment, had Rosie feeling like the man in the picture could see her.  Like he was watching her, and knew what she was thinking.

Impossible, she told herself.  But she couldn't shake the feeling.  She did notice, however, that Genie's mother had positioned Lyon so that he was sandwiched between herself and his sister, putting the girl as far away from the man as possible.  Rosie's feeling of sadness returned.  She put herself in the way between her husband and her children.  Out of protection.  No wonder she looks so sad.

She tapped Nan on the shoulder and pointed at the picture when the redhead turned.  "That him?"

Nan turned, and her eyes widened and her breath left her in a frightened gasp.  Rosie  cast a curious glance at her sister-in-law, wondering why a picture could make her sound like she'd just seen a ghost.  She was about to ask when the look on Nan's face changed so quickly she had to wonder if she'd imagined the gasp and look of fright. 

"Yeah," Nan growled glaring fiery daggers at the man in the picture.  "Genie, Lyon, her mom, God bless her soul."

"She passed?"

"Mmmm.  When Genie was sixteen," she answered, pulling a sheet off a piece of a table, and moving towards the picture.

Nan didn't elaborate, giving her sister-in-law the distinct feeling that she really shouldn't ask.  But curiosity was eating her alive, so she tried a different line of questioning.  Rosie's brow wrinkled.  "Where's he?"

"In Hell, roasting on the end of a pitchfork, if there's any justice.  He died."  The redhead's face had grown dark with a distinct look of loathing giving her an almost violent look. 

Stunned at the venom in her sister-in-law's voice, Rosie only watched as she covered the picture with the sheet.

Turning, Nan fixed a forced smile on her face and pointed across to the far wall.  "Christmas junk is over there."

Moving further into the attic, she headed for a set of shelves that Rosie estimated would be right above the room she shared with Chris.  She reached for a box clearly marked Christmas Decorations, and pulled it down off the shelf.

"That's not too heavy is it?"

"Nah, they're pretty light. But if we find anything too heavy we'll send one of the guys up here to fetch it," Nan replied as she slid open a panel in the wall to reveal a large dumbwaiter. 

The base of the compartment started just below her waist and was almost the same height as she.  It was easily four feet deep and three feet wide.  To Rosie, it looked more like an industrial lift, like you'd find in restaurants, than any other dumbwaiter she'd ever seen. 

"A wee bit on the big side, isn't it?"

Nan smiled.  "Oh yeah.  But considering when this house was built, that the kitchens and laundry were in the basement, and all the food, clothing, and any supplies had to be transported up four flights of stairs, I don't really blame Doctor Lyon for putting it in when he designed the place."

She put the box she held into the compartment, and reached for another, Rosie now doing the same and repeating the process until it was full.  Then Rosie watched as she closed the panel, flipped a lever, and pushed a button, causing the attic to be filled with the sound of a humming motor.

"Electric?"  Rosie grinned.  "Definitely not original."

The redhead laughed.  "No," she answered as she  wiped a hand across her brow.  "I think electricity was added to it around the 1920s.  But we upgraded it for safety. And there's a manual override too, just in case."

Rosie laid a hand against a dusty but exquisitely cut Victorian lamp, trailing a pattern in the dust, revealing beautiful cranberry colored glass.  "In case?"

"Kids."  Nan answered succinctly as she gazed at the floor, eyes searching out the vents.  "Kids love dumbwaiters.  Genie, Drey, and I used to play in this one all the time when we were a little older than Jack is now.  I don't want the power to go out unexpectedly without any way to get one up from between floors if they happened to be inside it at the time."

"Sounds like you speak from personal experience."

"Not me," Nan answered.  "Genie.  She got stuck in that one between the floor below us and the attic for several hours during a bad storm."

Rosie made a distressed sound.  "Oh how awful.  Scared her a bit, did it?"

"That'd be putting it mildly.  She freaked.  And not in the typical shrieking and screaming kind of kid freaking either."  Nan snorted.  "All we heard from her after her first few cries for help was whimpering and almost silent crying.  I have no idea what went on while she was in there, but it did a serious number on her.  She came out white faced and quiet, and very different.  I mean, she was still the same kid that I'd been best friends with since kindergarten, but her eyes were older.  Like she'd grown up too fast, or seen something she shouldn't, you know?"

The brunette nodded, wondering what on earth could have scared the tough ex-Army Captain she'd met so badly that it affected her permanently.  She shook her head, not really wanting to know.  Too many bad possibilities ran through her mind, and if she were honest, she really didn't want to think too long on it. 

Rosie noticed Nan was staring at the floor and tracked her sister-in-law's gaze as they moved from vent to vent along the floor and walls.  Nan's brow was puckered, but she didn't say anything, making only a perplexed humph noise when they both saw that none of the vents were blocked. 

"I just don't understand it.  It's not supposed to be that cold up here," Nan murmured.

"Maybe it's haunted and the cold is from the ghosties," Rosie grinned.

The redhead shrugged.  "Genie says it is.  Given the history of the house, the number of soldiers that died here during it's occupancy as a Union hospital during the War of Northern Aggression, it wouldn't surprise me in the least.  And Miss Millie has been talking to the 'spirits' who live here all of my life.  But I always figured it was more a habit of an old woman living alone for too long."

"War of Northern Aggression?" Rosie queried, one brow arched, not really surprised to find Nan believed in ghosts.  She herself believed in things other people sneered at, so she made a concerted effort not to do that to anyone else.

"Yankees call it the Civil War."

Her lips twitched in amusement.  "A Yankee like my brother."

"Damn Yankee if you listen to Daddy."

Laughing she replied, "Your dad is a right funny bloke."  Rosie looked around the treasure trove again, feeling a wistful smile curve her mouth.  "Ghosties and beasties that go bump in the night aside, this would be a great place to play in."

Nodding at her, Nan answered, "I agree.  That's why we decided not to take the stuff Miss Millie left out of here.  That and because I really couldn't part with it.  But we are gonna clear out a section to make a big playroom up here for the kids."

"I could easily see Chris and Cathy Dollanganger living up here," Rosie commented absently, mentioning the incestuous twins, the main characters of the infamous VC Andrews' Flowers In The Attic book series.

Without skipping a beat, Nan replied, "Then again, maybe we'll leave it as storage." 

-x-

Haul out the holly;
Put up the tree before my spirit falls again.
Fill up the stocking,
I may be rushing things, but deck the halls again now.
For we need a little Christmas
Right this very minute,
Candles in the window,
Carols at the spinet.
Yes, we need a little Christmas
Right this very minute.
            We Need A Little Christmas - Lucille Ball "Mame" 

December 22, 2004 1:04 p.m. EST
Living Room, Lyon's Cove, Moccasin Gap, NC

"A little to the right...no…no...too far...just a cat's hair back...STOP!  Perfect!"

"Thank God," Hunter muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead with a bandana. 

"How in the hell did she get to be the one in charge of the decorations, anyway?"  Chris groused, wiping sap down the front of his jeans.

Hunter sighed, stuffing the sopping bandana into the back pocket of his black track pants and shrugged.  "She's got a knack for it."

"Although, it might look better over there," Millie murmured thoughtfully, pointing at an empty spot near the fireplace rather than in front of the huge double windows.  All the way across the room from where the tree now stood.

"No!"  Hunter and Chris yelled together.

Millie threw her hands into the air, her eyes going comically wide.  "Okay, okay.  No need to get all flustered, boys."  She puckered up and blew them a kiss. 

Chris actually ducked out of the way, and Lyon grinned as Millie began to hover around the boxes that Nan    and Rosie had sent down from of the attic earlier, before they took the kids and left the house on yet another massive grocery run, which all the extra mouths dictated as necessary.  All four of them began opening the cartons and sorted through them for various items to decorate the living room.

Chris scooped up a long spool of silver garland.  "Where's this go, man?"

Lyon looked up, with three immense wreathes lined up on one arm that he also passed over to Chris.  "Across the tops of the windows."  He shrugged his shoulders.  "Don't look at me.  Nan's idea.  Not mine."

"It'll look good up there, once the lights are threaded through it.  I'll make sure it loops over each window.  You know…cascading."  Chris offered, nodding.  He frowned at the disbelieving look his almost-brother-in-law gave him, his hands full of multicolored lights.  "Hey, Millie's not the only one with a sense of décor!"

Hunter grinned, covering a chuckle with a lame cough.  "Whatever you say, Jerky."

"God, this one's pretty."  Lyon breathed reverently, holding up a spun glass unicorn with a wreath around its neck.

"And old.  So don't break it.  She'll be serving you up as 'figgy pudding' if anything happens to that one."  Tina announced as she loped down the stairs. 

Lyon looked up and favored her with a charming smile.  "How'd you get out of the grocery run, Valley-Girl?"

"Because food shopping makes me nuts and Nettie knows it," she retorted pithily.   "All those people milling about in the wrong direction, blocking the isles inconsiderately, acting like their purchase of one loaf of rye bread is the most important thing in the universe.  Makes me wanna choke a bitch.  Besides someone's gotta keep an eye on you guys to make sure you don't blow the house to hell."  She headed over to where Hunter crouched in the hall way currently unraveling string after string of multicolored lights.  She dropped another pile at his feet.  "Here you go, Uncle Hunter.  More fun."

"Don't break those bulbs, Squirt!"  He yelled with a glare.  He looked back down at the tangled mess.  "What, we have no extension cords?!?"

With a snort, Tina left him to his project and walked to stand in the center of the room, ticking off boxes on the clipboard clasped in her hand.  "Tree.  Check.  Stockings.  Check.  Lights.  Check.  Wreathes.  Check."

"No checks!  Cash or credit cards only!"  Chris laughed playfully as he began to loop silver garland over the window valances, and hang wreathes at the apex of each loop.

"I cannot believe I'm almost related to you."  Hunter growled, working on an ugly snarled knot of lights.  Finally getting it untangled, he leaned over and plugged in the strands.

Chris grinned.  "By marriage only." 

Hunter glared up at Chris, his eyes narrowing as the silver garland in his hands started glittering.  He looked back down at lights, with a black scowl.  "Now why the hell are they blinking?!?!?"  He stomped off through the door leading to the kitchen.

"What?"  Lyon called out with a laugh, while winding even more silver garland around the Douglas fir as his grandmother continued to sort through the ornaments.

"Asshole," Kevin grinned as he came into the living room carrying what looked like to be a four foot tall statue of Santa Claus.

"No, that's Hunter."  Chris chortled.

"I heard that!"  Hunter yelled from the hallway as he came back into sight with what looked like a box of replacement bulbs.

"What the hell is that damn thing, Deez?"  Tina asked as she set the clipboard aside and began to hang the stockings over the mantle at the fireplace in one corner of the room. 

"Dancing Santa.  Check it out."  He set the statue on the stage floor, and switched it on.  Immediately the room was filled with the sounds of "Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree' while the Santa raised and lowered its arms, and swiveled its hips to the beat.

"Oh, now that's just the epitome of class."  Chris smirked, leaning on the ladder he was using his eyes fixated on the gyrating statue.

"You wouldn't know class if it bit you on the ass," Lyon laughed, looping garland around the tree.

"Sure I would," Chris grinned.  "She did it just last night."

"Jerky!  Stop talking sex stuff about my sister!"  Hunter yelled, and then snarled even louder.  "Sonofabitch!  One light goes out, they ALL go out!!!"

"What?"  Tina chortled, getting into the insanity of the occasion.

Millie laughed at the outburst from Hunter as she sat at the foot of the tree.  "Ooooh Big Sexy!  I need you!"

"Now that'll give you nightmares for the rest of your life," Kevin grumbled as he walked over to where Millie had an antique looking angel held in her hands.  "Whatcha need Shiwóyé?"

Lyon's head pivoted so fast that it was in danger of snapping off at the neck.  "What did you just say?"

"Shut it, kid."  Kevin growled at his brother-in-law.  "Mind your betters."

Miss Millie looked up at him expectantly and slapped him sharply on the ass.  "And you mind yours, Bachύ."

"Ow!"  He grunted, rubbing the abused posterior.  "What was that for?"

"For not paying attention.  Right up there on top, please."

She handed the angel to Kevin who took it gingerly.  He turned it over in his hands looking at it.  It wore a red velvet and gold brocade dress, and held a matching tassel.  On its back were small red rosebuds twined around to look like wings.

"Very nice."  Kevin commented thoughtfully as he stretched upward on his tiptoes to perch the angel on the very top.  And it was a stretch since the tree had to be at least nine feet tall. He settled back down and nodded.  "That's gonna look good."

But the lights suddenly went out, plunging the room into muted darkness.  And Hunter's snarl filled the air.  "Get a flashlight...I blew a fuse!!"

"What?"  Chris couldn't help himself.

Laughter erupted in the darkness at the comment.  The lights came back on as Tina tripped the breaker switch.  But Hunter was not amused. 

"Fine!  If you're so damn smart, you rig up the fuckin' lights!"

"Having fun, sweetheart?" Nan breathed from behind him, startling her husband badly enough that he jumped guiltily. 

He grinned a bit sheepishly, and reached to take Hannah from her arms when the little girl grunted and strained for him.  He leaned in to kiss his wife's cheek as he perched Hannah on his hip.  "Hey baby.  Have a good trip?"

She just smirked at him as she walked past him, leading Jack, Rosie, Lilly, and Jinx towards the kitchen, each of them laden down with grocery bags.  Lilly was too preoccupied with Jack, as she'd been since the little boy's arrival to take exception to Hunter's verbiage, and Jinx simply grinned.  But Rosie stopped and set a bag down on the floor while she rummaged around in it.

"Need help there, Peanut?"

She shook her head, pulling her fist out from the bag, an unseen object clenched tightly in it.  She held it out to her brother and dropped something cool and heavy into his palm.  Hunter looked down at his hand. 

A lump of coal.

Rosie's cackling echoed throughout the house as she followed the progression towards the kitchen. 

-x-

Greeting cards have all been sent
The Christmas rush is through
But I still have one wish to make
A special one for you
Merry Christmas darling
We're apart that's true
But I can dream and in my dreams
I'm Christmas-ing with you
            Merry Christmas Darling - Karen Carpenter 

December 23, 2004 3:25 p.m. PST
San Francisco, California 

"Is he okay with me here?"

A puzzled look met the question.  "You live here.  Where else would you be?"

"I could always go stay at a hotel or something…"

Helene gave her partner a loving smile.  "Liv, I've told you.  My son is very comfortable with who I am and who I choose to love.  Will you relax already?"

The younger blonde nervously twisted a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail around her fingers.  She made a fetching picture, one hand braced on the countertop beside the kitchen sink, a faded UCLA T-shirt cut off at mid-drift, ripped and faded blue jeans encased long legs crossed at the ankles, bare toes of one foot pressed onto the top of the other for balance.  It made her look much younger than she was, despite the substantial age difference between them.  Helene couldn't help but smile at her.  She and Olivia had been together for almost a year, but she'd only moved in a few weeks ago.  And she was still exceedingly nervous around Helene's grown children. 

Helene found it endearing, actually.  Her beautiful lover, a fierce defense attorney, one who sliced and diced some of the best legal minds in San Francisco as a daily occurrence, went all thumbs and tongue-tied around her professional wrestler son.

"I just don't want to cause problems between you two," Olivia explained.  "I mean, Diana already hates me.  I don't want to alienate both of your children."

"Hon, Diana's hang-ups are her own.  They've got nothing to do with you.  And as far as my son goes, you needn't worry about him either.  He likes you."

Olivia made a soft scoffing noise.  "He's hardly spoken two words to me since he got here a few days ago."

Helen laughed as she stood up from the table.  She crossed behind her partner to press up against her where she stood at the sink.  She wrapped both arms around the slightly shorter woman, pressing her lips gently to her neck in an affectionate kiss.  "I think he's just heartsick over that girl he's been seeing.  Apparently she's the niece of his best friend and one of his mentors in the business and the uncle isn't very pleased with David right now." 

"Ouch," Olivia murmured sympathetically.  "Yeah, that's bound to suck."

She chuckled at her partner's phrasing.  "That and I think it's bugging him just a little over how similar his and my tastes in women are.  You do sort of look a little like her."

Olivia spun in Helene's arms, her blue eyes wide.  "No I don't," she exclaimed aghast at that possibility.

"Mmm, yeah, actually you do." Helene smiled.  At Olivia's groan, she hugged her, and rubbed her back a little.  "Don't worry about David.  I'll go talk to him."

Nodding, Olivia released her, and went back to the vegetables she'd been previously washing to go with their dinner.  Helene walked into the living room where her son sat in the window of her apartment, one foot pulled up and braced on the window seat, his long muscular arms folded over his knee, his chin propped on his forearm. 

She shook her head.  No way had her scrawny, hyperactive little boy had morphed into this mammoth of man.  But, as if sensing her presence, he tilted his head to fix those impossibly expressive dark eyes on her, and she could see the little boy whose tears she'd dried after his father had left.

Helene came to stand beside her son, one hand placed on the riotous black curls he always threatened to shave off, but thus far had resisted doing so.  "What's eating at you, Davey-mine?"

He pasted a smile on his face for his mother's sake.  "Not a thing, Mom.  Everything's fine."

"David, don't you dare lie to your mother," Helene admonished with a frown.  "You've not been yourself since you got here.  More quiet than ever, and you've got Liv walking on eggshells.  She seems to think you don't want her here."

Confusion crawled across his face.  "Why would she think that?  She lives here.  Where else would she be?"

Helene laughed.  "That's what I said.  So tell me what's bothering you."  At his continued stubborn silence, she prodded a bit more.  "It's this girl you've been seeing.  Tina isn't it?"

Dave thought briefly about denying it, but really couldn't see the point.  "Yeah."

"Miss her a bit, do you?"

"Yeah," he agreed again.  "And I don't get that either.  It's not like we're joined at the hip or anything.  I just…"

"Can't stop thinking about her?"

"Yeah."

"Wonder what she's doing right now," his mother questioned.  He nodded somewhat morosely.  "Can't wait until you see her again?"

"Pretty much, yeah," he sighed.

"She love you?"

"I think so."

Helene frowned.  "What do you mean you think so?  Don't you know?"

He shook his head, his gaze straying back to the view of the San Francisco Bay.  It really was pretty in the setting sun.  He shrugged.  "We've not talked about it."

"And why not?"

He shrugged.  "'Cuz I'm an idiot who let seeing her ex hug her at the wedding turn him into a paranoid, jealous putz?"

"David, listen to your mother," Helene went into lecture-mode.  "You call the airport and make arrangements to go see that girl, take her somewhere where the two of you can be alone for a while and tell her you love her.  Stop making yourself nuts over this.  From what you've told me about her already, she's standing up to her whole family, whom she loves more than anything, to be with you.  Baby, there's no way a woman will do that unless she loves that paranoid, jealous putz.  Understand?"

"But I'm here with you for Christmas."

She patted his cheek.  "Honey, I've had you at Christmas for many wonderful years.  I think I can stand to spare you for one."

Dave gave it some thought.  "Her family's Christmas is the day after, she said.  And we don't have to be in Puerto Rico until January seventh.  I suppose I could get us down there early as a mini-vacation.  Just the two of us."

Helene grinned.  "Now you're talking."

"But what if she won't go?"

"She'll go." Helene assured him.

"How do you know," he questioned seriously.  "Family stuff is really important to her."

His mother shook her head, amazed at his thickness where his self-confidence was concerned at times.  That girl from his early wrestling days really did a number on him.  Just once she'd like to get her hands around that girl's throat.  "I just know, sweetie.  If she's willing to take on her family, she'll jump at the chance for a week in Puerto Rico with just you.  I promise."

He hummed a little, thinking about it.  "Maybe."

Chuckling, Helene stooped to embrace her son.  "David, you get yourself on that plane and go be with that girl and her family.  And then you bring her here to meet me as soon as you can."

Dave smiled, reaching up to cover his mother's hands with his own.  "You're gonna love her, Mom."

"I already do, Davey-mine.  She loves you.  And that's good enough for me." 

-x-

This night Christmas seems so far away
Somewhere are you missing me?
I'm wishing; I'm watching a star and I pray
To live in a world where we all can be free
I'd fly straight to your arms and never more roam
My spirit is aching; I wanna come home
To you…
So I pray to heaven sweet mother and child
That my only wish will come true
I'd give anything just to see you again
And to have this Christmas with you.
            Christmas With You - Rick Springfield 

December 24, 2004 2:16 p.m. EST
Living Room, Lyon's Cove, Moccasin Gap, NC 

"I'm not a dumbass, and I take exception to that, thank you very much!"

"I didn't say you were." Kevin laughed as everyone gathered in the living room, relaxing before they all headed for the Christmas Eve service at Brookshire Baptist Church.

"Oh yes you did!  You said people who believed in Santa Claus were dumbasses!" Tina pouted at him but with genuine hurt and anger in her glare.

He groaned, passing a big palm over his face.  How did I get myself into this one?  "I said adults who believed in Santa Claus…"

He trailed off at her knowing smirk, realizing that yeah, in a round about way he did indeed call her a dumbass since she clearly still believed in Santa.  At nineteen, almost twenty.  Whodathunkit?

"Wanna keep digging that hole, Diesel?"  Lyon smirked at him.

"Shut up, you," he answered with a glare at the younger man.  He turned back to Tina.  "Don't have anything against dumbass kids, Beauty.  Just the dumbass adults they grow up to be."

Tina wrinkled her nose at him, hurt still flaring in her eyes.  "If you've got nothing against Santa or kids, then why all the hostility about my believing in him?  What're you gonna tell yours?"

"What am I gonna tell my kids about Santa Claus?" he repeated.  At Tina's nod, he grinned.  "The same bunch of bullshit my parents told me.  Why should my kids get off easy, huh?  I want them to experience the same joy and cheer and happiness I felt as a little kid.  And then the crushing blow of disappointment and pain and anger that comes with getting older."

At her uncertain expression, Lyon spoke up, "Don't listen to him, Valley-Girl.  You go right ahead and believe what you want."

"Yeah," Hunter nodded.  "Everyone knows how full of crap Kevin is."

"Not in this case, Runt.  You're just jealous because I know that's what Christmas is really about," Kevin denied.

Nan walked into the room carrying a freshly scrubbed Hanna in a pretty red and white Christmas dress, complete with fluffy lace, with Jack following behind, looking quite dapper in his suit, both children ready for the formal pictures they were taking before the Christmas Eve service.  "Enlighten us oh, wizened one," she grinned as she put Hannah down on the floor beside Hunter's chair where she quickly crammed the ear of a stuffed toy wolf into her mouth.

"A pinch of joy, a pound of pain, a scoop of hatred and a dollop of rage.  Throw in a little booze and some relative you can't stand the sight of but you have to invite over anyways, and you've got yourself a Holiday recipe chock full of disaster.  And don't forget to take pictures.  You're gonna need 'em for the court case."  He lifted his water bottle in a sardonic toast.

Silence met his declaration.  Then the laughter started.  Low, husky, long and utterly feminine.  All eyes swiveled towards the doorway where they were all stunned to see Genie standing, in complete military dress.

She grinned at him.  "That's what I like about you, Kong.  Your deliciously twisted sense of humor."

A pregnant pause of expectation filled the room as everyone just stared at the woman, everyone waiting to see what Kevin was going to do.  His response didn't take long.

"Where the hell have you been?!"  His bellow split the air and immediately set Hannah into crying, starting violently at the anger in his voice. 

"Way to go, Kev," Hunter growled, reaching for the little girl, lifting her up off his foot to curl her into the crook of his arm as she sniffled, her indigo eye glassy with tears and huge in her face.  "Shh-shh, I've got you," he comforted the little girl, bouncing her gently against his side, the toy wolf sandwiched between them.  "It's okay, Muppet.  Uncle Kevin can't help being an asshole.  He was born that way and just grew bigger."

"You'd know all about it, Runt," Kevin murmured and shrugged, casting an apologetic look his way before turning his eyes on Nan.  "Sorry Shug."

He turned back to his wayward spouse.   But the sight of her standing there so calm and so…all right…and unaffected by what he'd been through, brought a rush of emotion to the surface.  Still angry, confused, hurt, and more scared than anything, he yelled again.  "Damn it Squirrel, answer me!"

Genie was used to being yelled at.  She had been all her life.  First by her father, and then by every commanding officer she'd ever had.  But not once by him.  And from him, she wouldn't take it.  Not one damn iota.  "Stop bellowing at me like an injured warthog from Hell and I just might, you damn gorilla!!"

"Bellowing?  Oh that ain't nothin', doll-face!"  Kevin sucked in a lungful of air, and let blast with a roar that shook the walls.  "THIS IS BELLOWING!!!! NOW WHERE IN THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!  Do you have ANY idea what you've put me through by sneaking off like that?  Jesus CHRIST woman!!"

"Will you two give it a rest already?!"  Hunter snarled, then tried to calm himself down as he realized he was only making Hannah's whimpers worse.  She had a choke-hold on the toy wolf she held tightly to her little chest, causing it to howl eerily in the sudden tense silence.

Genie's eyes zeroed in on the toy wolf and its lonely howl.  "Where'd she get that?"

"Get what, Regina," Lyon asked softly, his expression now one of concern.

"That."  She pointed as Hannah's frightened clutching of the toy made it howl again.  "That wolf.  Where'd she get it?"

When no one rushed to answer, Tina stammered, "It-it was a gift.  From Deez.  He gave it to Nan when she was in the hospital this past summer."

She turned those unfathomable blue-black eyes on him.  "Why'd you give her that?"

He looked at her like she'd lost her mind, forgetting everything that Miss Millie had told him on the telephone earlier that day.  "What?  It's just a toy.  Who cares?"

"Why, Kong?!"

Tina tried again.  "Deez, if you two would just calm down…"

But Kevin was too deep into the argument to hear his friend and at the end of his non-existent patience.  "Who gives a rats ASS why I gave her the wolf?!  What the hell does that have to do with us?"

"Just answer me!"  Genie snarled. 

"Because I'm Papa Wolf!  That's why!"  To punctuate his declaration, in a move usually only seen in the ring, and certainly not by him, he gripped the neckline of his green and blue plaid flannel shirt in his fists and ripped it open, sending buttons flying to the far corners of the room.  Revealed beneath was a well-known red muscle shirt.  On it was the black outline of a wolf stalking its prey, a snarl twisting its mouth in a silent growl, silver eyes glowing.

Genie stood stunned.  As still as she'd ever been before taking down a target.  Standing before her was the wolf that had chased her in her butterfly form through her dreams all her life.  And it was Kong.  Kong.  Her husband.  A brilliant smile split her face.

But it was wiped clean when another voice came over her shoulder.  "On your six, Major."

Kevin's burning gaze fell on the man standing behind his wife.  The same man he'd seen her talking to outside of the Café DuMonde that night.  The same man he'd been told she left with that next morning.  He pointed his finger at the newcomer.  "You.  You took her.  You got point five to tell me why."

Lt. Summers' eyebrow rose in challenge, his stoic features split into a handsome smile.  His gaze was fixed on Kevin, but his words were directed at Genie.  "Orders, Major?"

"Stand down, Lieutenant." Genie responded automatically.  "Kong -"

"Why goddamn it?!"

"Classified."  The lieutenant shrugged with a smirk.  He didn't like the Major's new husband and didn't care who knew it.  "Need to know only.  And you…don't."

But Kevin was past hearing reason.  "You took her!  You sonofabitch!  I'm gonna rip you in half!"

"STOP!"  Genie barked at her husband.  She growled low in her throat.  "Damn it, Summers.  You're dismissed."

His brows arched high.  "Major?"

"Dismissed, Lieutenant." She reaffirmed.  "Go wait in the car."

Setting his jaw belligerently, he gave a curt nod.  "Yes, ma'am."  With a snappy salute, which he waited just barely to see her return, he turned on his heel and left the house. 

The soft snick of the front door closing echoed loud in the tension filled silence that wrapped around everyone in the living room.   But it galvanized the still irrational newlyweds.

"I want answers, Squirrel and by God I want 'em right the fuck NOW!"

Nan's eyes dipped down to see Jack cowering by her chair, his little hands clasped over his ears and her heart twisted in her chest.  If he was going to live with them, he'd have to get used to loud yelling voices, but damn it, not today.  And not by these two.  And for damn sure not at Christmas. 

"Now you listen to me you -" Genie began, but was interrupted.

"Out!  Both of you!  Get out!" 

Nan raised her voice in a venomous hiss, but not quite to the point of yelling but it stopped their argument like she'd doused them both in ice water.  She stood up, rising from the chair like an avenging goddess of old. She pointed her finger at the door.  "It's Christmas!  And I will not have my children upset like this!  You two take this outside!   Now!!"

Pursing her lips, Genie glared at her friend, but then nodded.  "You're right."  She took a deep breath.  "Sorry Porthos."  Her eyes darted around the room and she acknowledged the rest of the witnesses to their fight, starting with Chris.  "Alfalfa.  Ro.  D'Artagnan. Game." 

"No apology for your poor put upon relatives?" Lyon called to his sister with an unholy gleam of mischief in his matching blue-black eyes.

"Yeah, what about us?"  Miss Millie grinned brilliantly at her granddaughter, laughter in her tone and amusement clear on her face.

"Stay out of this, Zachary.  You too Grandma.  This is between me…" the corner of Genie's mouth crooked up in a smirk as her whole demeanor changed.  "…and my husband."

"Husband?!"  The cry was made by more than one person, punctuated only by the shrill cackling of Miss Millie as she sat calmly in a wingback chair, looking like she was holding court over all the shenanigans, and appearing more than capable of handling it anything thrown her way.

Genie ignored them.  "Let's go, Kong."

Holding out her hand to him, she gentled the smirk into a smile that left Kevin with a pole-axed expression.  He found himself walking forward to clasp her fingers around hers before he it even registered that he was actually moving.  He looked down at their threaded fingers, then raised his gaze to her eyes.  His breath hitched in his chest as he saw the woman he'd spent three days with in New Orleans.

"Squirrel," he breathed softly, then frowned as he noticed her uniform for seemingly the first time. 

"I know, Kong."  She nodded before he could continue.  She tugged on his hand.  "C'mon.  Let's get out of here so we can be angry and obnoxious in private."

With another nod, Kevin and Genie walked side by side towards the door.

"Oh buggar me, but this went from wow to holy shit!" Rosie breathed with a stunned expression on her face. 

Hunter and Nan, with eyes wide, could only nod as they watched their friends leave the room.

Tina humphed noisily, crossing her arms over her chest.  "Well they'd better work it out in the next forty-five minutes."

Hunter turned curious eyes on his niece.  "Why by then Squirt?"

"Because we have to be at church by quarter of four or Grandma is gonna go into apoplectic spasms if we're late, and Deez hasn't showered or dressed yet."

Nan rolled at her while she helped Jack up into her lap, unable to figure out why Tina had been so cantankerous since her arrival.  Then again, she really didn't have the energy to deal with it either.  Too many other things going on to worry about it right now.  "I think Mom will just have to get over it, Squirt."

Jack reached over and tugged on Rosie's skirt.  "Aunt Ro?"

She looked down into those huge blue eyes with a smile.  "What is it, Jacky-Jack?"

He turned too serious eyes back towards where Genie and Kevin had disappeared, then his blue eyes darted over to Tina and back to Rosie.  "We're gonna need thome more coal." 

-x-

Let peace begin with me
Let this be the moment now.
With every step I take
Let this be my solemn vow.
To take each moment
And live each moment
With peace eternally.
Let there be peace on earth,
And let it begin with me.
            Let There Be Peace On Earth - Vince & Jenny Gill 

December 24, 2004 2:41 p.m. EST
Lake Shonacoge Shoreline, Lyon's Cove, Moccasin Gap, NC 

In an unspoken agreement, Kevin and Genie left through the front door, stopping in the drive only long enough for Genie to speak to Summers.  Kevin waited off to the side, far enough away from them that overhearing their conversation was unlikely, yet close enough that he could step in and stop her from getting into the car and leaving again.  Or so he had thought, as he watched the two of them. 

It was evident to anyone with even the slightest observational skills that she outranked him and he had to obey her orders.  He frowned.  She wasn't in the Army anymore, yet there she stood in full dress uniform and that Summers cat was taking orders from her and saluting her.  Had she re-upped while she'd been gone?  He didn't know and wasn't really sure if he was okay with that.  Or if he even had a say in the matter.   A small voice he didn't want to listen to said probably not.

He shifted his gaze back to Summers.  He watched the man and remembered how he was inside, quietly standing at her back, sheltering her from any unseen attack when they were facing the others.  And even now with them talking quietly, he still was on the alert to any potential danger that could be coming.  The guy was certainly protective of Genie.  Kevin couldn't fault him for that.  But the man went too far, in his opinion.  Genie was his to protect…yet, she didn't seem to need it.  His frown deepened, not really sure how he felt about that.

As he watched, Summers nodded at something she said, snapped to attention, saluted, then grinned wryly as Genie slugged him hard enough in the arm to make him list sideways into the frame of the non-descript black sedan waiting.  With a dark look in Kevin direction, Summers got behind the wheel of the car, and in seconds was headed back down the drive towards the road.

Genie watched him go, and finally turned to look at her husband.  Her blue-black eyes surveyed him openly, not bothering to hide the flashes of speculation, curiosity, and even attraction.  It was a bit disarming, Kevin found, to be the object of such scrutiny.  Mainly because he'd never seen her look at him like that.  Usually her eyes were narrowed with suspicion and wariness, like she was waiting for him to try and hurt her or something.  But not now.

Without a word, they walked around the front of the house to the back, then through the break in the cedar trees and down the sod stairs to the lake shore.  It took them a few minutes, but once there, Genie simply stared out at the water, not really looking at anything.   But Kevin knew she was aware of him.

Kevin used opportunity to stare at her.  A dark Army green wool jacket, with more badges and ribbons than he'd seen in a very long time covered her chest, and covered the very light green button down shirt and black tie underneath.  She wore a brass US insignia on each side of the collar just above the lapel.  He quickly spotted the Military Police insignia, of two crossed gold pistols, underneath the US insignia as well.  Slacks in the same dark US Army green wool, complete with the telltale black stripe on the outside of the trouser leg that marked her as a commissioned officer, cupped her rear in way that left his mouth watering.  She was military all the way down to the very highly shined black shoes.

She was a beautiful woman, no doubt, but seeing her in her dress uniform told him more about her than anything else had since he'd met her.  Genie had that easy comfort so obvious in someone born to serve.  Usually she looked irritated or annoyed with the clothing she wore, picking at it constantly like it offended her, to the point where he wondered if she was even aware that she did it.  But in her uniform, she showed no such compunction to fidget.  A serene, controlled confidence seeped from her every pore.  This was a woman who knew exactly who she was, what her place in the world was, and was completely at peace with both.

And God help him, but he found her even more attractive this way than he ever had before. 

Then his eyes lit on the rank on her shoulder epaulets on the jacket nearest the sleeves.  His gaze jumped up to the identical rank insignia on the black beret capping her head, her ebony hair pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. 

"I thought you were a Captain."

At his softly spoken question, Genie turned to face him.  "Was.  I was promoted two days ago."

He cocked a shoulder up then lowered it, stuffing his fingers into the pockets of his jeans.  "For that matter I thought you'd been discharged."

"Prematurely."  She offered him a small quirk of the lips that may have been an aborted attempt at a smile.  "Thought I'd been recalled to active duty, but turns out my discharge wasn't legit."

Kevin pursed his lips and thought for a moment, wondering why in the hell she was lying to him.  He was so tired of this.  "Bullshit."

Those delicately arched black brows snapped together in an instant, her eyes now narrowing the way he was used to.  "It wasn't."

"Bullshit," he repeated again. 

She was starting to get angry again.  "Damnit Kong would you just listen?!"

"You gonna stop lying to me any time soon?"

Her whole body flashed hot and cold and a sick feeling settled in her stomach.  She really didn't like the way this conversation was going.  "I'm not -"

"Squirrel, I served a two year Army stint in Germany before I became a wrestler," he interrupted.   "I know what the insignias you're wearing mean.  Except that one.  I've heard of it, but never seen one before," he pointed at the small silver ribbon behind the gold pistols that marked her as an MP. 

No way.  He couldn't possibly know.  Couldn't possibly recognize the badge that marked her as a GHoST operative.  Could he?  "Why didn't you tell me you served?"

"Didn't come up."  He shrugged again.  "Now you wanna tell me the real reason you walked out on me in New Orleans?"

Sticking with her original plan, she try to spin the story she'd originally come up with for him, reciting her personal mantra in her head.  Assist.  Protect.  Defend.  Protect.  "I am an MP, sort of.  My commanding officer is Colonel Marcus Decker.  He heads up a task force that - "

"Holy fuck, you're a Ghost," Kevin breathed out, his eyes wide.  That simple miniscule piece of information explained so much about her to him.  Then a cold spot filled his belly.  His wife was a member of GHoST.  A covert operative unit that was very hush-hush and never talked about.  Most people didn't even know it existed.  And those that did, never talked about it. 

Genie's eyes narrowed again, but she didn't bother to deny it.  "How -"

"My two years was spent in the 202^nd Military Police Company in Gießen, Germany."

She felt her own jaw drop at the news.  "What?!"

"Yep.  Two years.  Assigned to NATO."

"Rank," she rasped, barely believing what she was hearing.

"Specialist."

"You were CID?!"  She thought her eyes were going to rupture in their sockets with that lovely little bombshell.  He was CID, the Army's Criminal Investigative Command force.  The Army's equivalent to NCIS.  And being ex-CID was like being an ex-Marine…no such thing.  Once a Marie, always a Marine.  And once CID…"And you didn't tell me?!"

He snorted and shortened the distance between them another step.  "Like how you didn't tell me you were a Ghost?"

"I couldn't.  GHoST isn't something you talk about."

"Sorta like Fight Club," he smirked at her, then smoothed his face blank again.  "So what does that mean for us?  And the baby?"

Her mind was still reeling with the knowledge that she didn't have to lie to him.  A CID agent would know about GHoST.  And especially what those soldiers assigned to the Special Ops unit did for their country.  Well, at least on a cursory level.  She would bet her next incentive pay that he didn't ever get details.  But that was okay. 

Her husband was a former specialist in the C-Fucking-ID.  The ga'he certainly had perversely twisted methods when it suited them.  And picking this man, above all others, as hers topped the fucking charts.  And it certainly explained the small tattoo on the inside of his left forearm.  The one of a Roman helmet with the word Praetorian over it.  It was a CID thing.  She felt exceedingly stupid that she'd not recognized it before.

She still was trying to wrap her brain around it all.  Turning her face up to him, she gave him a blinding smile and a rough chuckle.  "I guess what happens now depends entirely on you, Kong."

"How do you figure?"

She sighed, feeling the excruciating band of tension that had clamped down on her chest from the minute she saw him again begin to lift.  She'd come here planning on offering him the option to divorce her.  No way in hell was she giving up that easily now.

"My discharge really was FUBAR.  My former Unit chief - Major Thomas Hoern - got busted for some serious shit that I still can't discuss right now…"

Kevin made an affirming noise.  "Classified.  I get it.  Just tell me what you can, Squirrel."

Genie nodded, but continued.  "He doctored my medicals and got me out to cover his own ass.  By the time Decker found it, I was already back in the states, pregnant, and married.  Summers found us in New Orleans and had orders to bring me back in."

"Yeah, I was kind of present for that part."

Her eyes searched his for understanding.  "I didn't have a choice, Kong.  His orders were to bring me back.  Under any circumstances.  Failure to do so would have had…messy…consequences.  He would have succeeded too.  I should know; I trained the sonofabitch.  I had to go with him."

Kevin may not have been a military genius, but even he knew what she wasn't saying.  She'd gone with Summers the way she did, without his knowing about it, to keep him safe.  Even alive maybe.  She'd protected him.  Every woman he'd ever known needed something from him.  His money.  His fame.  His protection.  His Johnson.  None had ever needed or wanted just him.  And certainly none of them had ever protected him, putting themselves in harm's way to do it.  Yet she did.  It was a very odd feeling. 

"I met with Decker; took care of some loose ends," she continued, and Kevin couldn't help but wonder if one of those loose ends was her former Unit Chief.  He knew better to ask though. 

"And now?" he inquired instead.

She hesitated a split second, then quickly forged ahead.  "I've got another five years on my tour.  Right before I was injured, I'd re-upped for a six year hitch."

He thought for a moment.  "But the number isn't important.  You've got no plans on ever leaving the Army, until you retire.  Or go down in combat."

She shook her head, knowing he was right, but it still didn't make it any easier with that look on his face.  "No, I've never wanted to be anything but career Army."

Kevin nodded again.  "Thought not.  But you're married.  And pregnant.  Both not good for a GHoST operative."

A mischievous smirk quirked those lips that repeatedly drove him to his knees not even a week ago.  "True.  But my medicals, while early, weren't entirely wrong.  Kong, my shoulder's shot to shit.  And I might not ever get full motion back in it now that I've got to wait until the cub is born to have the corrective surgery I need on it."

"Cub?" he laughed, but she ignored it.

"Decker promoted me, and made me an offer that I took immediately.  I'm going to be training new GHoST inductees.  Teaching them to be as good as we were."

He blinked, the implications of that racing through his brain.  Genie was a Ghost.  She killed people.  She was good enough at to make Major.  And now to teach other people how to do it.  He was married to, and expecting a baby with, a government endorsed assassin.  He let that sink in for a minute then grinned, amazed at just how okay with it he was.  Well, at least life with her would never be boring.

He took another few steps forward.  "Stateside?"

She nodded.  "Probably.  The shoulder's not bad enough to put me out permanently, but it's bad enough that they've had to rethink how they'll use me here on in.  Either way, I'll never go back on the line, most likely.  Although, special missions aren't totally out of the question.  If something comes up that I'm the most qualified soldier for, then I go.  End of arguments.  But yeah, for just about the rest of my career, I'll be stateside." 

"Where?"

"Fort Bell in Blackwater Sound, Florida."

His eyes warmed as he stared at her.  "That's less than thirty minutes from where I live."

"I know."

She cast a sidelong glance at him through her lashes.  On any other woman, Kevin would have thought she was coming on to him.  But on his wife - God but he was beginning to love that word - it looked more like she was unsure of what she was going to say.  Almost…shy.  A flash of heat shot straight through him, pooling low in his belly at the look.

"I'm gonna need someone to watch the cub while I'm away on those few times I have to go," she murmured softly.

He arched a brow and closed the gap between them, forcing her to tilt her head up just a bit to see his face.  "Just those times?"

"Well," she shrugged her good shoulder.  "Maybe for some daily stuff too.  Help would be nice."

"Hmmm," he crossed one arm over his chest, propped the opposite elbow on his forearm and tapped his chin in thought.  "Sounds like someone who'd have to be good with kids.  Maybe even know a few things about first aid.  Not to mention who's mean and strong enough to protect them.  Big job."

Genie's cheeks tinted at his use of the plural kids.  "Means a big man would be needed to fill the…position."

He pointed his finger at her.  "I might know of someone who'd want the job."

"Oh, really," she purred, leaning into his heat like a cat seeking to be petted.  He didn't disappoint her, and ran that finger across her cheek, slowing as it traced her lips.  "I'd be willing to talk to him, if you think he'd be interested."

A lazy, seductive smile appeared.  "Oh, he's more than interested, Squirrel."  He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her against him so she could tell just how interested he was. 

Genie gave a low groan as she laid her forehead against his chest, her fingers creeping up to trace the wolf snarling on the T-shirt.  "Aren't you cold?"

A bark of laugher echoed across the lake's surface.  "Squirrel, with you this close, I'm anything but cold."  He hugged her tighter, and gave a gruff chuckle.  "Jesus.  I'm married to a Ghost."

"Most military personnel don't even know what that means much less what being in GHoST really entails," she tipped her face up and gave him a full blown smile.  "Well, you know what that means, now."

He smiled.  "You told me, so now you gotta kill me?"

"No.  Never you, Kong."  Her smile dimmed a bit, but didn't fade.  Instead, a wicked light filled her eyes.  "But it does mean I outrank you.  And I get to keep you.  And just make you wish you were dead."

He cupped big hands over her cheeks and lowered his mouth to hers, stopping just long enough to breathe, "Sounds like any normal marriage."

Her eyes seared his with their intensity.  "You should know by now that I'm anything but normal."

"Thank God," he murmured before he kissed her, quickly drowning in the taste of her, luxuriating in the pressure of her lips against his. 

Genie melted against him.  She could hear him growl, and sighed into his mouth as she deepened the kiss, digging her fingers into his waist.  She was finally in the arms of her wolf.  He knew what she was and accepted her fully.  Together they'd raise their cub and build a life together.

She was finally home. 

-x- 

Hark! the Herald Angels sing,
Glory to the new-born King,
Peace on earth and mercy mild,
God and sinner reconcil'd.
Hark! the Herald Angels sing,
Glory to the new-born King.

Joyful all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies,
With the angelic host proclaim,
Christ is born in Bethlehem.
            Hark! The Herald Angels Sing - Hugh Jackman 

December 24, 4:05 p.m. EST
Brookshire Baptist Church, Moccasin Gap, NC 

Nan leaned over Kevin as he and Genie slid into the pew beside them and whispered, "Thought you weren't gonna make it."

Genie eyed her friend with sparkling eyes as she removed her beret and tucked it into the pocket of her uniform.  "Thought for a moment there we weren't either," she replied, her words heavy with double meaning. 

Kevin quirked a sideways smile at her as he brushed a big hand down his navy suit trousers, and made room for Jack to tuck himself happily between Nan and himself.  "Couldn't let Mama E down though, now could we?"

Smiling in return, the redhead leaned into the warmth of her husband's arm around her shoulders as her friend did the same.  They both turned to face the front of the church as the lights began to dim and a single spotlight shone bright on the child standing atop the makeshift stable.

"Fear not!"  The child cried out. 

Nan choked back a laugh as Hunter, and the rest of her extended family did the same.  The herald angel alerting the shepherds of the Christ child's birth was none other than her nephew, Pepito.

"For, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people!"

Hannah announced her joy to the congregation and let out an ear splitting shriek at the sight of her "cousin" at the front of the church.

"For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord!"

"The demon seed in with angel wings and a halo.  Hell just froze over," Hunter rumbled between muffled laughter, bouncing the little girl a bit on his knee where she continued to make gurgling almost-toddler noises at Pepito, her chubby arms straining towards him.

"And I thought the Herdmans existed only in a children's story," Genie snorted. 

"And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger!"

"Shush!  That's my grandson up there!"  Ellie admonished sternly, then turned wary eyes back on the boy.  "Please God, don't let him burn down the manger."

And the snickers and strangled laughter started all over again. 

-x-

The angel Gabriel from heaven came,
With wings as drifted snow, with eyes as flame:
"All hail to thee, O lowly maiden Mary,
Most highly favored lady." Gloria!

"For know a blessed mother thou shalt be,
All generations laud and honor thee;
Thy son shall be Emmanuel, by seers foretold,
Most highly favored lady." Gloria!
            The Angel Gabriel - Sting 

December 24, 2004 10:41 p.m. EST
2^nd Floor, Lyon's Cove, Moccasin Gap, NC           

"I appreciate the help, Chris," Nan smiled at her friend as the two of them made their way upstairs, she with a fussy, but almost asleep Hannah on her shoulder and Chris with a completely passed out Jack on his.

The blonde wrestler smiled as he rubbed a hand over Jack's back.  "No problem at all, Sweets."

Together they made quick work of putting the children to bed, Hannah taking just a little longer than Jack since the little boy had fallen asleep during their Christmas cartoon marathon some thirty minutes previous.  Hannah was proving to be a bit more difficult, not liking the fact that Hunter wasn't there to tuck her in.  But once she had her 'blanket', the ever-present Triple H T-shirt, tucked firmly under her chin, along with the stuffed wolf that earlier had been the cause of the earlier commotion, and her Raggedy Ann doll curled under each set of chubby fingers, it was only moments before she was snuffling sleepily in the glow of her nightlight.

Without a word, Nan and Chris tiptoed back downstairs, careful to avoid the creaking third step from the bottom.  Only when they were safely back in the living room did either of them speak, Nan going first.

She reached over and scooped up the whimpering English Bulldog puppy Chris had presented Hunter with earlier in the night, and cuddled it close under her chin.  "I can't believe Jinx kept this little baby for three days and never let on he was holding her for you.  That was a nice thing you did, Chris."

He slumped down into the comfort of the overstuffed couch and reached for his coffee cup, taking a great slug before replying with a shrug.  "Overdue.  Besides, I figure this was the only way to make either one of you ever forgive me."

"I forgave you a long time ago."

"Bullshit," he said with a grin.

She matched it as she settled next to him on the couch.  "Okay, forgot maybe."

"Bullshit part deux."  He retorted, but held up a hand before she could interject again.  "It's okay, Sweets.  We both know I lost my mind for a while there.  But what happened to Lucy really was an accident.  Either way, I've always felt like shit about it."  He reached over and rubbed the puppy's head.  "Hopefully Ethel here will make up for it."

"Hunter seems to think so."

"And that's all that matters, huh?"

Nan nodded.  "In this case, yeah."

They fell silent and Nan set Ethel back down in the little doggie bed next to the couch, watching with a practiced eye as Dixie ambled over and curled around the little crying pup.  She nudged the new addition to the household with her nose until Ethel settled down and snuffled into her side, slipping quickly into sleep.

Unexpectedly comfortable with the easy silence that had fallen between them, Chris reached for the remote to the television.  "Okay, so we've watched Rudolph, the Grinch, Frosty, and for my Rosebud, even Mickey's Christmas Carol.  We've got what?  An hour or so before Hunter and Rosie come back?"

"At least," she agreed, taking a sip of her sweet tea.  "Maybe two, if Father McKenzie gets a roll going."

"So what do we watch now?  More cartoons?"

Nan shook her head, tucking her feet up underneath her on the couch.  "Please no.  Something not animated, if you don't mind."

Nodding Chris flipped through the pay-per-view channels, stopping

"Ho ho ho!  Merry Christmas!" A deep voice called from the doorway, as Kevin stuck his head in.  A chorus of shushes met him.  "Sorry, sorry.  I take it the ankle-biters are already down for the night?"  He asked as he and Genie came into the living room.

They were holding hands, Nan noted with a smile.  "I certainly hope so.  It'll make the assembly later easier without trying to run interference."

Genie, now fully divested of her uniform, plopped down on the love seat, and threw her jean clad legs over the arm as she nestled against her husband's chest.  "So what're we doin', Aramis?"

"Watching a movie until Hunter, Rosie, Tina and Lyon get back."  Nan's smile grew wider when she saw the Papa Wolf T-shirt that had changed so much earlier, now worn loosely on Genie's frame, knotted at the hip.

Genie turned curious eyes on her friend.  "Where'd they go?"

"Hunter and Rosie went to Midnight Mass with Lilly and Jinx.  I've got no idea where Tina and Lyon disappeared to," Nan answered.

Genie's frown at that deepened, but she kept silent.

Kevin cast a critical eye at the television screen.  "What's on?"

With a wide grin and a theatrical flourish, Chris punched a few buttons on the remote.  "The most perfect holiday movie ever - Shaun of the Dead."

The Native American beauty turned an arched brow on him.  "That's not a holiday movie."

"And that would be the entire point," Chris nodded emphatically.

Among the approving noises made by Kevin and Nan, Genie fixed her blue-black eyes on Chris and snapped her fingers.  "Pregnant woman demands popcorn and chocolate milk, Alfafa.  Chop-chop."

Chris pointed at Kevin.  "Husband."  He pointed at himself.  "Not husband.  Friend."

Genie patted Kevin's thigh.  "Pillow for armed pregnant woman with homicidal tendencies."  She pointed back at Chris.  "Target practice."

Laughing Nan turned sympathetic eyes on her friend.  "That's a win for Genie, Chris." 

Kevin grinned at him as Chris groaned, stood, and headed for the kitchen, and yelled just before he slipped through the doors, "And some beer if ya got!"

-x-

Joy to the World , the Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare Him room,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing.

            Joy To The World - Tennessee Ernie Ford

December 24, 11:01 p.m. EST
St. Peter's Catholic Church, Moccasin Gap, NC

Standing with the rest of the congregation, Lilly Donovan gave a slight smile as she reached for the hymnal that Arthur held open for her.  As the music started she raised her clear soprano voice high, her eyes twinkling as Midnight Mass began.  She was happier than she'd been in years, and it showed plainly on her face.

She was back with her laddie buck now and his family.  Even though she and the lassie had started off on the wrong foot, in the past few weeks that she'd known the woman, she loved her as her very own.  The two children he'd brought home from his honeymoon were absolutely precious and she couldn't love them more had they been her own biological grandchildren.  She felt moisture prick the back of her eyes as she thought about Rosie and her young man, and how proud Miss Leah and Stuart would be if they could see her.

A slight commotion at the end of the isle pulled Lilly out of her thoughts and she looked up to see Hunter and Rosie sliding in past the people on the end of the pew.  The stinging in her eyes became full flooded tears of happiness as Hunter slid behind her to take up her left side, and Rosie wrapped an arm around her waist from the right.  Hunter leaned in to kiss her cheek before taking half of the hymnal in his hand and very softly began to sing.

A burst of laughter escaped Lilly's throat before she could squelch it, and it only intensified as a red blush crept across Hunter's cheeks.  "Singing never was your strong suit, laddie.  But I love you for trying," she whispered, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek in return. 

But then Rosie's clear alto rang out above the crowd as she hit the harmony of the chorus, her eyes skimming across the music she shared with Arthur.  She spared Lilly a glance and winked at her.  Lilly sighed.  She definitely had her grandmother's voice.  And Hunter, bless his poor tone-deaf heart, had his father's. 

Oh Stuart, if you could only be here to see them.  Then this Christmas would be perfect, she thought with a bittersweet pang.

Perfect. 

She'd never believed in perfection before.  But this, with Rosie on one side and Hunter on the other, with Arthur just beyond that, this was as close to perfect as she ever hoped to get.

For anything else would be too much.  Smiling broadly, she sang out even more joyously. 

Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat, repeat, the sounding joy.

-x-

Here comes Santa Claus,
Here comes Santa Claus,
Right down Santa Claus Lane,
Vixen and Blitzen and all his reindeer
Pullin' on the reins.
Bells are ringin', children singin',
All is merry and bright.
So hang your stockings and say your prayers,
'Cause Santa Claus comes tonight.
            Here Comes Santa Claus - The Chipmunks

December 25, 2004  12:15 a.m. EST
Living Room - Lyon's Cove, Moccasin Gap, NC  

"Gentlemen, the task before us isn't an easy one.  But wars never are.  Battle lines have been drawn.  The course set.  Our mission, if we are to be successful, absolutely must be accomplished in the next few hours, with stealth and above all else, a modicum amount of quiet."

Kevin's eyes rolled and he shared a look with Hunter and grumbled, "He's such a drama queen."

"You don't know the half of it," Hunter grunted in agreement.

"Get on with it, Jerky," Lyon grinned.

"Hey!" Chris protested violently.  "Not family!  And only family can call me that."

Hunter rolled his eyes.  "Does that mean I actually have to claim you to use that name?  If so, I relinquish it.  Here and now."

"Guys, guys!  Enough with the bickering.  We've got more important things ahead of us this evening.  The most important thing tonight of all nights," Kevin interrupted them.

All four men shared a look of devilish glee as they responded as one, "Toys!" 

~*~*~

Five minutes later…

"No!  No way!  I will not listen to that song ever again!"

Lyon's brow puckered thoughtfully.  "Which one?"

"The one about that damn kid whose mother is dying on Christmas Eve."

Chris nodded.  "The Christmas Shoes."

"That's it!"

"Oh, I love that song," Tina sighed almost blissfully.

"Why?  It's so maudlin," Rosie asked ignoring Chris where he made gagging noises behind her.

Tina stuck her tongue out at him.  "It's sweet!"

Kevin laughed.  "You're a sick woman, Beauty."

"I don't care.  I still like it." 

"You're not listening to me," Hunter's voice raised above all the others.  "I swear by the Ghost of Christmas Present that if you make me listen to that I will invoke the spirit of Ebenezer Scrooge and drive a stake of holly through your heart!"

"I agree.  Change it or I'm gonna shoot the fuckin' stereo," Genie replied quietly, almost icily calm in the promise. 

Nan shared a glance filled with meaning with Lyon, who looked equally uncomfortable, before she turned her gaze on her sister-in-law.  Her husband wasn't the only person in the room with mother issues.  "Change the song, please Ro," she asked softly.

"Changing."  Rosie fiddled with the track advance, then stopped and turned an evil grin on her brother.  "That better?"

Hunter sighed as the very nasal lyrics of Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer filled the room.  "Much."  Humming along happily, he went back to precisely applying the Diamond Princess stickers to the pink and purple plastic castle in front of him on the floor.

~*~*~

Ten minutes later…

"Why do you get to be Bowie?"

"Because she's prettier than you are, Jerky." Hunter snorted in laughter as his sister shoved him.

Nan rolled her eyes at her husband and sister-in-law, but grinned at Chris.  "His part is higher.  Shut up and sing already." 

~*~*~

Fifteen minutes later…

"Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring…" Genie recited solemnly.

"Except for my barmy brother who's currently sitting on your living room floor playing with Barbie dolls."  Rosie gave a choked laugh as she continued to rummage frantically through the small bag she'd left in the kitchen.  "Camera!  I've got to get my camera!"

Laughing more at her sister-in-law than the image of her husband's antics - she remembered all to well how men got when putting together Santa's gifts in the wee hours of Christmas morning - Nan asked, "He's not being perverted with them is he?"

"What, are you kidding?  Of course he is.  He and Alfalfa both, I'll bet."  Genie barked in laughter. 

"Bugger!  Where is it?!  I gotta get this on film!"

Reaching over her to the counter just beyond the bag she was scrounging in, Genie plucked the camera up and held it out to the Aussie.  "This what you're looking for, Ro?"

"Ah!"  With a happy smile she snatched it out of the other woman's hands and raced back through the double doors leading down the hallway.  Genie grinned as she watched her go.

"Haven't seen you smile this much in years, Porthos," Tina commented with a wry twist to her lips as she lifted the tray of hot chocolate they'd just finished preparing for everyone.

Genie's response was nonverbal and painful. 

Laughing, Nan cocked her head in the direction her sister-in-law had taken.  "C'mon, girlie.  Let's go back in there before the guys do something stupid -"

A loud shriek of feminine laughter interrupted her.  Genie smirked.  "Too late."

The sounds of male indignation echoed through the downstairs, making Nan glad, not for the first time that the children were fast asleep upstairs, doors shut against the raucous going on in the living room.  Of course, she grinned wryly, it didn't hurt that she'd given them both a dosage of Children's Benadryl, just as her sister had suggested at the Christmas Eve service earlier that night.  Angela had claimed it was the only way, short of bashing him over the head with a rock, that she could get Pepito to sleep on Christmas Eve. 

Bless her heart, Nan thought with happy warmth filling her middle.

Together they rounded the corner to see Lyon, Hunter, and Kevin all crowded around Jericho who was seated on the couch, with a very small football helmet jammed tightly down on his head. Nan, Tina and Genie stood in the doorway to the living room, with the later laughing so hysterically that she was holding her middle with both hands.  Rosie was no help whatsoever, her own laughter mingling with Genie's as she shakily filmed the events before them.  Nan's mouth hung open, as she watched the minor crisis unfold.

"Oh no," Tina groaned, moving to set the tray down on the table next to the tree.  "Tell me he didn't."

Lyon nodded at her.  "Oh he most definitely did, Valley-Girl.  And it wasn't even a dare or a bet either."

"Jesus, Jerky, but you've got a fat head. How stupid can you be, huh?"  Hunter grumbled as he shoved his fingers in the ear hoes and pulled.  But the helmet wouldn't budge.

"Off!  Off!  Get it off me!"

Lyon stood back next to Tina. "We're trying to.  Hold still, Jericho."

"I've got an idea."  Kevin locked a beefy arm around the helmet, planted one foot on the couch between Chris' knees and twisted. 

Jericho's response to this new method of torture was immediate.  And loud.  "Ow!  Ow!  Stop!"

"You're gonna break his neck like that," Lyon commented drolly. 

"So?" Kevin grunted.  "Serves him right for being so damn dumb."

"I've got a chainsaw out in the shed.  That'll solve it."

Rosie's laughter hit a higher pitch.  "No chainsaws, Hunt.  Too likely to damage the paint."

"ROSEBUD!" Chris yelled affronted.

"Peanut, I wasn't gonna aim for the helmet!" Hunter replied with a dark glare at his sister's boyfriend. 

"Hey!"  Chris responded indignantly as he could, considering he was sitting there with a child's football helmet stuck firmly on his head.

"Shut up, Jericho."  Kevin sharply thumped the helmet several times with his knuckles, having about the same effect as hitting a metal bucket with a baseball bat while it was on someone's head.  He could have sworn he saw Chris' eyes swivel in opposite directions for a minute there. 

Genie's laughter doubled when Hunter spied them standing there, and looked up to say, "Baby, do we have any lard?" 

~*~*~

An hour later…

Kevin surveyed the chaos with a critical eye from where he and Genie sat on the sofa.  He watched as his wife steadily worked her way through one of the numerous candy canes sitting in a glass bowl on the coffee table.  She was supposed to be stuffing Jack's stocking with the action figures and candies lying in front of them, but had stopped to enjoy the peppermints lying temptingly within reach. 

He fought a grin.  He may have his wife back, but they were still new enough with each other that he wasn't sure if teasing her about her eating habits was a good idea or not.  Deciding to err on the side of caution, he addressed the piles of toys, clothes and other Christmassy items littering the floor of the living room.  "Jesus Christ, Shug.  It looks like Santa's elves threw up in here."

"Not my fault.  Blame Daddy Warbucks over there for losing his mind at the mall a couple of days ago," Nan mumbled, without lifting her eyes from her task of putting together a race track. 

Tina nodded as she snapped together a miniature kitchen play set.  "You should have seen him, Deez.  It was all we could do to make him not buy everything in sight." 

Rosie laughed and shared a knowing grin with her sister-in-law, as she put the finishing touches on the reflectors on the spokes of Jack's new bike.  "Especially on Barbie Avenue."

Laughter flittered around the room, and Chris, his hair sticking up all over his head in greasy clumps, dropped the football he was holding.  "Got something you want to share with us there, Hunter?"

"Shaddap you," Hunter groused then grinned sheepishly.  "Okay, so maybe it's a little much.  I just wanted to make this a good Christmas for my kids."

A poignant silence descended on the group at Hunter's words, all of them a little more than touched at the softly spoken words from the fierce wrestler.  The gruffness of his voice spoke volumes over how deeply the two sleeping children upstairs had gouged their way into his heart.  Only the sounds of wrapping packages, or toys being assembled was heard for a few minutes. 

"When I was a kid you got one big toy at Christmas and if your parents did their job, it was usually something very dangerous," Kevin spoke up.

Genie nodded enthusiastically.  "Guns, knives, toys with tons of tiny parts that you and your brother could choke on.  Stuff that caught on fire – it was great!"

"You would be the one to point out all the dangerous weaponry."  Lyon chimed in gleefully. 

Chris laughed, continuing on with the theme.  "BB guns.  They don't want to give them to kids anymore, because too many kids get shot in the eye on Christmas morning.  The kids who lose an eye when you shoot BB's at 'em are stupid - too dumb to duck.  They don't deserve to have eyeballs."

"Electric football games," Kevin picked the rant back up.  "They don't make 'em anymore.  You turn it on and all these guys would vibrate and run around the field.   My cousin Myron swallowed a running back - I think it was Larry Zonka - and damn near choked to death one Christmas morning.  Funniest damn thing I've ever seen."

Hunter snorted loudly.  "You had a cousin named Myron?  Was he from the nerdy side of the family?"

"Shut up, Runt.  Not all of us could be born smart, athletically gifted, and stunningly magnificent, 'ey Squirrel?"

In response, Genie slung a wrapped candy cane at her brother with maliciously accurate aim.  "You're so dead, Zachary!"

Lyon reached out and snagged the sweet before it hit him, laughing at his sister's discomfort.  "Quit yer bitchin', Regina.  It all worked out in the end."

"Not the point," Genie grumbled as she leaned in to the comforting strong arm that had subtly slipped around her shoulders.  She swiveled her head to glare up at her husband as she unwrapped another candy cane and stuck it in her mouth.  "Don't go getting any ideas, Kong," she growled around the treat.

He grinned down at her, but left his arm in place.  "Wouldn't dream of it, Squirrel." On impulse Kevin plucked the minty treat from her lips and covered them with his own in a sweet, if not slightly sticky, kiss. 

Nan watched the whole exchange from her vantage point on the floor near the fireplace, smiling so wide her cheeks ached.  She ducked her head before they could see her staring.

"Nan?"  Hunter asked, his voice tinged with concern, as he leaned down over her.  "You okay?"

She turned a brilliant smile up on him.  "Of course.  I'm fine.  Why?"

He lifted a large hand and ran the pad of his thumb across her cheek.  "Cuz you're cryin', baby."

She wiped self-consciously at her face.  Sure enough, it was wet with tears.  Leaning up on her knees, she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face against his neck.  "Happy tears, sweetheart.  Happy tears." 

-x

I want a snowfall kind of love
The kind of love that keeps you in bed all day
Oh I want to walk through with you
And watch it all melt away
Won't you bury me in your quiet love
Oh bury me in your quiet love
Bury me in your quiet love
And we will blow away
            Snowfall - Ingrid Michaelson 

December 26, 2004  6:39 p.m. EST
Front Porch - Lyon's Cove, Moccasin Gap, NC  

Rosie stepped outside onto the huge wrap-around porch of the immense antebellum home.  The party inside was going full swing and the people were wall to wall.  Nan's whole immediate family was present.  As were Kevin, Genie, Miss Millie, and Lyon.  Bo Montgomery and his ex-wife Poli Elliott, along with Bo's brother JD and sister Sam joined them too.  Drey and Oz had come as well. 

She loved it.  Really.  But every now and again, she felt a bit overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people.  Like now.  Curling her arms around her to ward off the chill of the brisk air, she moved further into the darkness and sat down on the top step.    With a deep sigh she glanced up ward and gave a little squeal. 

"It's snowing!"

"Beautiful, isn't it?"  A voice came from slightly behind and to the left of her.

She wheeled around, her hand at her throat.  "Tina! You scared the beejesus out of me."

"Sorry," Tina murmured, sounding anything but apologetic as she stepped out from the shadows to sit beside the Aussie brunette.

Rosie bit back a slew of questions running through her brain.  It was no secret that Tina had been somewhat cool towards her since the night of the bachelorette party.  But for the life of her, she never had figured out why. 

And since her arrival at Lyon's Cove, she'd been surly, argumentative, and generally snippy with anyone and everyone.  Except Lyon, Rosie pondered thoughtfully, hoping against hope she was seeing problems were there weren't any.  She really wanted to talk to Tina, but unfortunately she could tell by the set of the younger woman's shoulders that she wouldn't make any headway tonight either.  So instead, she decided to just soak up the quiet and the cool, and simply enjoy the beautiful fat flakes drifting lazily down from the sky to cover her head and jeans. 

When the break in the silence came, it was Tina who spoke first.  "Crowd getting next to you?"

"A bit," Rosie agreed.  "I'm just not used to so many people."

Tina nodded.  "We can be overwhelming if you're not used to us."

Before Rosie could respond, the sound of a car coming up the drive caught there attention.  It wasn't long before headlights cut around the curve at the huge oak tree just before the circular drive in the front.  A car neither of them recognized parked behind all the others lined up in the circle. 

"Now who could that be?"  Rosie wondered aloud.

"No clue.  I thought everyone we knew was already here," Tina responded as she rose to her feet, Rosie doing the same.

Finally the door opened and someone got out.  A large someone.  A large someone now moving towards them.  Rosie strained to see through the darkness and snow.  "Is that…"

"Dave," Tina whispered as she recognized the snow dusted figure striding purposefully towards her. 

"And on that note, I'll take my leave," Rosie said with a grin up at the still falling flakes as she disappeared back into the house, laughter and warmth escaping from the open door as she went.

In two powerful strides up the steps, Dave was in front of her, just standing there staring at her.  She stared up at him, a concerned frown puckering her brow at his prolonged silence.  "Dave?  What's wrong?"

He was breathing heavily, his fingers curling into fist and opening again, only to repeat the sequence.  "I…couldn't stand it.  I…I don't care if Hunter guts me.  I couldn't stay away."

A smile broke through her worry as she watched the emotions play across his face.  She lifted a hand to rub at his biceps and shook her head.  "He won't do a thing.  It's Christmas.  And besides if he did, Nettie would gut him."

He opened and closed his mouth twice before giving up with a groan and wrapping both arms around her, pulling her tightly up against him, tucking her tightly into his larger frame.  Dipping his head to nestle his nose into her hair, he moaned quietly, "God Tina, I missed you."

"Me too," she murmured against his shoulder.

"Come with me."

She pulled back to look into his eyes.  "What? Where?  You mean now?  Dave, I can't.  My family's Christmas…"

He shook his head and put one finger over her lips as he pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket.  Inside the envelope were two tickets, which he fanned out in front of her.  "Say yes."

She read the destination easily in the gentle glow from the lights inside the house.  "Puerto Rico?  Dave, that departure date says tomorrow."

"I know."  He nodded, the beginnings of a grin forming on his lips.  "You.  Me.  Sand, sun, and a huge suite, for a two whole weeks before anyone else gets there for New Year's Revolution.  C'mon, Bunny.  Say yes."

Nodding violently she laughed, "Yes!"

Dave cupped her face in his hands and languidly caressed her lips with his own, rumbling deeply in his chest as she leaned further into his embrace, abandoning herself to his kiss.  Tina clung to him, reveling in the strength of his desire for her.

"Dave!"  Brun shouted as he flung open the door behind them, causing them to jump apart.  "Come on in, boy!  Have some nog!"  He thrust an old fashioned stein in Dave's general direction, but kept a tight grip on it, even if some of the highly spiked eggnog did slosh out the sides.

Laughing, Dave wrapped an arm around his girlfriend and together they walked past her uncle into the festivities inside.  "Your uncle ain't right."

"And you're just now figuring this out?"  Tina giggled as she squeezed his waist.

Brun, who was wobbling just a bit on his feet, peered outside into the darkness.  "Fuck me, it's snowing!  Fuckin' awesome man!" 

-x-

Carve the Turkey
Turn the ball game on
It's margaritas when the eggnog's gone
Send somebody to the Quick-Pak Store
We need some ice and an extension chord
A can of bean dip and some Diet Rites
A box of tampons, Marlboro Lights
Hallelujah, everybody say cheese
Merry Christmas from the family
            Merry Christmas From The Family - Robert Earl Keen 

December 26, 2004  7:45 p.m. EST
Front Porch - Lyon's Cove, Moccasin Gap, NC  

Nan sat happily, if not a bit self-consciously, across Hunter's lap in the huge wing-back chair next to the tree on one side, and the fireplace on the other.  The big picture window was behind them, and Brun had recently turned on the outside lights so everyone could see the snow falling lazily past the frosty pane.

Her family's Christmas party was in full swing, and they'd already had a few unexpected events, not including the one she had planned for later on.  It had definitely been an evening for surprise bombshells.  The first being the big reveal of Hunter's Christmas present to Nan.  The area he'd cordoned off down in the basement had been turned into a sauna, steam room, and huge Jacuzzi style hot tub.  Despite their promise to not give presents to each other, Nan had been thrilled with the additions.

The second surprise of the evening was Dave's sudden arrival.  Oh she was happy to have him, especially since Tina's lingering foul mood had miraculously disappeared with his appearance.  But she was concerned about Hunter's reaction.  She needn't have worried.  Much like Snoopy and the Red Barron, Hunter and Dave had come to an unspoken agreement to put their arguments aside in deference to the spirit of the holiday.  Although if she'd been asked, Nan couldn't have told you who was Snoopy and who was the Red Baron of the pair.

After that came Kevin and Genie's announcement that not only were they really married, and that they did so the day after Hunter and Nan tied the not, but that they were actually going to try to make it work.  The couple would be moving to Florida in just a few days since Genie started her new job at a military base down there.  That definitely seemed to thrill Miss Millie since she would be going on to Florida after a few weeks with her brother on the White Mountain Apache Reservation.

And the night was still young, she thought with a smile.

She had one hand dwarfed in Hunter's, their fingers threaded together, and the other around his neck, fingers idly playing with the long blonde hairs left unfettered as she liked it.  Hunter sprawled casually beneath her, one giant arm curled around her back, absently alternating between stroking the soft black velvet leggings and the silk garnet pirate blouse she wore over them.  His whiskey eyes were glued to where Jessie, Nan's youngest niece, and Sam Montgomery played with Dixie, the two cats Osiris and Isis, along with their newest addition, Ethel near the tree. 

Jack and Pepito were busy out in the hallway zooming the race cars around the track that Santa had brought yesterday morning, with Chris and Nan's nephew Justin, the laughter and catcalls growing louder with each pass of the toy cars.  Katie, Angela and Cindy Elliott were all standing near the buffet set up in the butler's pantry, it's double doors thrown open wide to make more room, swapping recipes and corresponding culinary horror stories.

A card table had been set up in another corner of the immense living room, and a high stakes game of hearts was currently in process.  Miss Millie Lauder was practically cackling at the absolute look of loathing Red was leveling on Kevin Nash, the latter having beautifully trumped his King of Hearts with the Ace, while Jinx calmly swept the cards up, shuffled, and began to deal the next round.

Lilly Donovan and Rosie were chatting quietly to Hunter's left, on the other side of the fireplace, with Lilly's face flooded with emotion as she watched the younger woman.  Every now and again, she'd reach out and touch Rosie as if she were making sure she was actually real. 

The giggles and ear-splitting shrieks that came every few minutes from one of the two couches in the room gave testament to where Hannah had ended up - happily perched on Ellie Elliott's lap.  Nan's mother was enchanted by the little girl, and had been since the moment she laid eyes on those cherubic cheeks.  Drey and Oz sat next to the Elliott matriarch, fondly sharing smiles with each other over the little girl's antics, and Nan couldn't help but grin as Oz reached over and took Drey's hand in his, then raised it up to kiss the back of it before lacing their fingers together and laying them back down on his thigh.

Brun and Robbie were camped out at the bar, apparently trying to see who could out obnoxious the other, good-naturedly of course, all family squabbles having been set outside the door, as their long since deceased grandmother used to say.  Christmas was not the time for arguments according to Ma-Ma Elliott, and her descendants strictly adhered to her decree.  For the most part.

Geoffrey Elliott, JD Montgomery, and Lyon Bass had cornered themselves near the door into the hallway and were in a heated debate over which movie was the goriest and thereby the best between Saw, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Evil Dead, and Hellraiser.  But Nan could see where Lyon's eyes kept darting over to where Tina sat with Dave on the loveseat, the two of them so engrossed in each other, that they almost forgot they weren't alone.  It was only Ramón Vega's constant teasing that kept them grounded in the present.

As she crossed the room back from the buffet, Genie passed a hand over her husband's shoulders, then continued on her way towards the picture window.  She also saw Lyon's wandering attention and it made her eyes narrow in thought, especially when she caught him every now and then watching Sam Montgomery with the same intensity.  Sam, while oblivious to the looks he was passing her,  was also was very aware of the way Lyon was watching Tina, and grew more depressed looking by the minute. 

Genie gave an inward sigh.  Only her Zachary would find two beautiful, yet equally unattainable, young women to be interested in.  She turned her gaze to Nan and darted them meaningfully over at the two girls and back at her brother. 

Nan caught the glance and let her eyes travel towards her cousin who sat beside her now not so estranged ex-husband on the couch to her right.  She looked back at Genie and nodded ever so slightly. 

She turned her head to look at her cousin.  "Trouble's brewing, Poli."

Poli looked up and followed her cousin's gaze to the not-so-subtle looks Lyon was shooting at Tina and Dave, and then spotted Sam darkening countenance.  "Ooh, that is so not good," she murmured. 

"What?" Bo asked, glancing up to see what was going on.  His face clouded over dramatically.  "I'm gonna kill him," he growled.

"Snake," Poli interrupted with a warning glance.  "Not here.  And for god sake don't say that  where Genie can hear you."

"Too late, Louie," Genie hissed between clenched teeth, turning snapping eyes on Bo.  "Keep talkin', Beauregard. You lay one finger on my brother and I'll bounce your balls so hard you'll bray like a government mule.  And then I'll shoot your ass, but you can bet your ass I won't miss."

Nan shook her head.  "Can't kill him anymore, Porthos.  He's family again."

Genie's eyes widened as she looked at him, and then Poli, and back again, seeing for perhaps the first time their close proximity to one another.  "Oh no.  No.  No. No.  No!"  She gave a loud groan, and all but yelled, "For the love of God why?!"

All conversation in the room stopped as everyone turned to see what Genie was yelling about.  Fixing her with an ugly glare, Bo got to his feet, grumbling, "Thanks a lot Bass."

"Fuck you too, Beauregard.  And it's Nash, you egomaniacal asshat.  Get it right," she growled back under her breath.

A highly amused smirk played around Poli's lips as she whispered to Nan, "Some things never change do they?"

"I certainly hope not," Nan responded.  At Poli's questioning look she continued.  "If those two ever get along, I owe you a thousand bucks and a trip to Rio, remember?"

Bo raised his voice to make sure everyone heard him.  "Now that Genie's so efficiently gotten everyone's attention, I've got an announcement to make.  It's no secret that Poli and I divorced years ago -"

"Was to me," Hunter murmured.

" - or that her house recently burned," Bo continued on as if he hadn't heard him.  "And while most of you know that she and Sam have been staying with me while the insurance people are deciding on whether or not it can be salvaged, what most of you - and that would include my little brother and baby sister," he acknowledged each one with a nod of the head, "don't know is that -"

Bo paused and held out a hand to Poli, who took it and stood up, wrapping one arm around his waist. "We've decided to give it another go."

A loud whoop of joy was heard from where Sam sat with Jessie.  The teenager in question jumped up, the red Christmas balls in her ears bouncing as she did, making the green-eyed skull wearing a Santa hat on her long-sleeved red shirt look like it was having a seizure.  She crossed the room quite nimbly despite the pleated black micro-mini and knee high black and silver four inch clunky platform Goth boots she wore, and literally threw herself at her brother and sister-in-law.  JD joined them soon after, hugging Poli gently, and pounding Bo on the back.

Shaking her head, Genie grouchily extended a hand to Bo, but leaned back to ask Poli, "You sure?"

"Yeah, Porthos.  I'm sure," the other woman grinned.

"Well, shit." 

Grinning Bo shook her hand.  "Gotta be nice to me now, Nash."

"Aramis said no killin'.  She didn't say anything about maiming.  Keep it in mind, Beauregard," she warned with a rumble.

Bo made a dismissive sound.  "You're all talk and you know it."

A harsh bark sounded from across the room.  "The hell she is," Kevin said as he stood and made his way over to her.  Wrapping both arms around her, he cupped her abdomen in his broad palms. 

Bo eyed the professional wrestler with a mischievous look.  "Isn't this the part where you tell me you're gonna pound me into a grease spot or something?"

"Nah," Kevin grinned evilly at him as he leaned down to press a chaste kiss on Genie's cheek.  "Squirrel doesn't need me to take you out.  She can do that all by herself whenever she's ready."

Enjoying the banter, Bo asked, "And you're gonna do what?  Hold her purse while she beats on me?"

Laughing, Kevin responded.  "Purse?  See that just shows how little you know her.  No, I won't hold her purse, because she doesn't carry one.  But I will hold her pack if she wants.  Especially since she lets me drive her tank."

Bo's eyes went wide and he turned to stare at the woman in question.  "You've got a tank?  Seriously?"

Genie flashed him a positively evil grin.  "Oh, you'd be surprised at what toys I've got at my disposal.  Shame you'll never get to see them.  They're only for big boys."

"Hah!  Yeah!"  JD snorted in mirth at the sour look on his brother's face.  "Top that one, Mud!"

"Uhm…excuse me?  He can't, but I think I can," Nan responded, calling all eyes to her.  Blushing furiously, she reached down and pulled an envelope from the corner of the window seat behind her, and turned to her husband.  "We said no presents.  And by the new rooms downstairs I can see how hard you tried to stick to the agreement.  So I expect you won't be mad since I didn't either."  She handed him the envelope.

Hunter took it, and glanced curiously at her.  "What is it, baby?"

"Open it and find out, Hunter."

He slid a big finger under the flap of the envelope lifting it up easily since she hadn't sealed it.  Inside was a home-printed Christmas card.  On the front was a solitary Christmas tree with writing on the front.  He looked up at her again.  And she smiled.

"What's it say, Runt?" Kevin asked.

Looking back down at the card he read aloud, "What do you get for a man who has everything, or could buy anything under the sun that he might want?  I thought and thought and then it hit me.  How about a new name?"

Hunter flipped open the card and read the single word inside in a whisper, "Daddy."

Silence reigned over the room waiting for a reaction.  Hunter repeated it. "Daddy."  Then he looked up at her, darting his eyes quickly at where Jack still played in the hallway and then where Hannah gurgled happily in Ellie's arms.

Nan slowly shook her head.  With gentle but trembling fingers, she reached for his hand, and placed it deliberately on her belly.

Hunter's face drained of color then flushed equally with red. "You're pregnant?"   At her hesitant nod, a beatific smile split his face.  "You're pregnant!"

The room erupted in shouts and laughter and hugs all around as Hunter stood up, carrying his wife with him and hugged her fiercely to him.  In his exuberance, he lifted her high above his head then lowered her back down and swung her around the room, stopping only when she laughingly begged for him to.

Then he turned a brilliant smile on his sister.  "Peanut, she's pregnant!"

Rosie cried and laughed at the same time, while running to embrace him.  He grabbed her up in one big arm and yelled, "Lilly!  Jinx! I'm gonna be a daddy!"

"We heard!"  Lilly laughed as she watched him release his sister to haul Nan up against him again.  Lilly and Jinx hugged each other, looking every bit the proud soon to be grand-parents.

"Dad?" A hesitant little voice called out. 

Without breaking stride, or letting go of Nan, Hunter scooped Jack up into the crook of his free arm and snuggled the little boy against his shoulder.  "How do you feel about having another brother or sister, Sport?"

Jack looked from him to Nan and back again.  "Another?"

Beaming, Hunter nodded.  "Momma's gonna have a baby.  And you will get to be a big brother again.  What do you think about that?"

The room quieted to see how the little boy would handle this news.  But Nan knew her Jack and wasn't worried.  He proved her right when he grinned at her, his gamine smile melting even the sternest of hearts.  "Can I have another thithter, Momma?"

Nan smiled brilliantly at her son, "I'll see what I can do, Punkin'."  She hugged his little body against her where he sat securely in the curl of Hunter's arm. 

Kevin smiled at them, and chuckled.  "Better pick up the phone, Runt.  The Boy Toy will pitch a fit if you don't tell him like a-sap."

"Shawn!  Holy Jesus, I've gotta call Shawn!"  Hunter exclaimed as the well wishes kept coming.  "Somebody hand me the phone."

"Congratulations, Nettie," a cheery voice said from behind her.  She turned to see Tina standing there, her brilliant blue eyes glassy.  "I know how much this means to you."

No, you don't, Nan wanted to say, but as always bit her tongue.

"And I want you to call on me for anything I can do to help, okay?"  Tina asked as she reached out to hug her.

Nan's smile faltered a bit as she accepted Tina's embrace, her eyes meeting Robbie's over the young woman's head.  "I will, Squirt.  I promise."

As Tina stepped away, Nan reached for her mother, who simply stood there, with Hannah on her hip.  Ellie looked too choked up to say anything, so she settled for hugging her daughter, and kissing her forehead, only to raise her fingers up to wipe at the smudge of lipstick she'd left behind.

"Baby girl," her father's voice caused her to turn, and the water works she'd managed to hold at bay finally flowed freely.  Red stepped up to her, leaning heavily on his cane, but wrapped her in a surprisingly strong embrace.  He whispered in her ear, "You're gonna be a wonderful mother.  To all of your children.  I'm proud of you baby girl.  More than you've ever known I was."  Then he stepped back and eyed her with a knowing look.  "But you will.  I promise you will."

Unable to speak from the emotion clogging her throat, Nan merely nodded.  Hunter's hand reached out for her, and she stepped back into the shelter of his arms.  One hand slid down to cradle her abdomen as he dialed the telephone he'd requested earlier. 

"Shawn!  Merry Christmas man!  I'm gonna be a daddy!  Yeah!  Yeah, she just told us," Hunter rattled off rapid fire into the phone at his best friend.

Wiping at the tears now trickling down her cheeks as Hunter palmed her stomach, a wide-eyed look of wonder on his face as he talked to Shawn on the phone, she felt a flood of warmth and contentment wash over her.

Yep.  As close to perfect as it would ever get, she told herself, hoping she'd never lose the feeling she was having at that very moment, filing it away deep in her heart for those times in the future when she knew she would need it most.

-x-

You're a rotter, Mister Grinch,
You're the king of sinful sots,
Your heart's a dead tomato
Splotched with moldy purple spots, Mister Grinch,
Your soul is an appalling dump heap
Overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment
Of rubbish imaginable,
Mangled up in tangled up knots!
            You're A Mean One Mister Grinch - Dr. Seuss

December 26, 2004  8:05 p.m. EST
6842 Honeysuckle Lane, Efland, NC 

Trenton Blakeney was a man who liked order.  Methodical detailed planning.  Control.  Domination.  Power.  The feeling of cold steel in his hand as it warmed under the steady flow of his preferred medium as he indulged in one of his favorite distractions. 

What he decidedly did not like was anything unexpected.  And having someone knock on his apartment door at this time of night without calling first was absolutely unacceptable. 

He picked up a precisely folded white towel and meticulously wiped off the steel in his hand.  Once it was reasonably clean, he refolded the towel and laid it and his instrument on the small table at his right. Breathing out a resigned sigh, he raised cold, reptilian eyes to his most recent canvas.

Cocking his head to one side, he studied his work with a critical eye.  After a moment, he made a tsking sound and shook his head.  "Not quite done yet, I'm afraid," he uttered absently, still thinking, seeing the patterns he wanted to create behind his eyes. 

The knock came again, more insistent this time. 

With a cold snarl that would have caused a sick knot of fear to unfurl in the belly of anyone who heard it, Trent turned and carefully left his studio, his bare feet slapping  eerily in the absolute silence that enveloped this part of his current residence.  He slowed when he reached the front door, and flipped on the porch light before looking through the peep-hole.

"Well I'll be damned," he breathed when he saw the face staring back at him through the thickly falling snow.  Making quick work of the deadbolt and chain lock, Trent opened the door.  With what couldn't only be described as a sinister smile, he crossed his bare arms over his black wife-beater and leaned against the doorjamb.  "Hello, Squeak."

"Hi," the man on the porch answered almost timidly, an demeanor no one, outside of the man before whom he stood, would ever think about him.

He glanced around nervously, like he expected someone to jump out of the bushes at him.  Trent's ice blue-green eyes catalogued every tick and twitch his former cellmate made.  The man looked haggard.  Wet.  Tired.  Hungry.  Scared.  And slightly unkempt.  Trent's nose wrinkled.  He loathed unkempt.

"Enough pleasantries.  Why are you here?  What have you done, Squeak?"

Carter Dunn gritted his teeth against the detested nickname this man had christened him with on his first encounter with the man in prison nearly twenty years ago.  Nineteen years old and pretty like he had been at the time didn't last long in prison without protection.  One night of nearly being gang raped in the showers taught him that. 

For reasons he never did figure out, Trent had broken it up before the other prisoners could accomplish their goal.  It didn't make any sense to Carter why the man had stopped them when he could have just joined in.  But he hadn't.  Instead, he'd offered him his protection.

It was only after he'd accepted did he find out what his cellmate got out of their deal.  And that he'd not really been saved from having to service other prisoners.  He only had to service one.  His cellmate.  Trenton Blakely.  The Demon of Deep River.  The man who'd plunged a small town in Connecticut into absolute terror in the early eighties as he sadistically tortured and permanently maimed seven women before he was caught.  Tortured and scarred, but not sexually assaulted.  No, turned out the Demon liked men for that. 

And he liked Carter Dunn.  A lot.  He could still hear Trent's voice in his head explaining the nickname.  I call you Squeak because that's the sound you make when I fuck you.  I like it.  And you will too.  Eventually.

He flashed a nervous smile.  "What makes you think I've done something?"

Trent frowned.  "You don't call.  You don't write.  And suddenly after all these years, you appear on my doorstep like some storm-tossed waif.  What else am I supposed to think, Squeak?  Be sure, very sure of your answer before you speak.  You know my only condition."

His one condition.  Permanence.  That's what Trent had promised him in prison.  If you're ever in trouble, and you come to me for help, be very sure you want my help.  Because if you ever come to me again, I'm never going to let you go.  You'll belong to me.  Permanently.  We understand each other, Squeak?

All the fight drained out of him.  His ex-cellmate was right.  He was in trouble.  And only the Trent could get him out of it.  "I'm in trouble, Demon.  And I need your help."

An evil smile curled up one corner of Trent's mouth.  "Now that wasn't so hard was it?"

Yes, he wanted to scream and run as far away from the sadist in front of him as he could get.  But he was out of options.  He shook his head, his bleak blue eyes darting towards the promised warmth just beyond the door.  "May I?"

"Of course."  Trent pushed the door open and stood up straight, allowing Carter to pass through. 

Carter crossed the threshold and felt a weight lift off his shoulders.  Accepting what he had to do to get the help he needed was almost a relief.  Almost comforting in its familiarity.  This he knew.  He could do this.  He might even get out of it alive.  If he did, he'd never escape Trent again.  This would be a permanent thing if he lived through it and they succeeded.  But if even they didn't, he knew with absolute clarity that Trent wouldn't let him go back to prison. 

He'd kill him first. 

He'd promised him he would.  Right or wrong, good or evil, the Demon of Deep River was a man of his word.  He never broke a promise.  Never.

Carter stood back, waiting for Trent to precede him.  Once the older man had passed, Carter studied him.  The years had been good to him.  He didn't look as close to forty-five as he really was.  Firmly muscled, well defined, and a deadly grace oozed from him.  Invisible tendrils of barely contained animalistic power floated in his wake.  Carter noticed his hair was longer than he remembered, shaggy, curling at the base of his neck.  And it looked like it had recently been dyed a lighter shade but was now turning back to its original warm chestnut brown.  The man had even grown Mephistophelian mustache and goatee. 

Over all, the man looked good.  He knew it and used it.  How else could he do what he did otherwise?

He followed Trent into the kitchen where he stood waiting as the older man reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of juice.  He slid it across the counter toward him along with a hand towel.  "Drink.  And dry your hair.  You look like a drowned rat."

"Sorry," he mumbled as he dried his hair with one hand and downed the juice at the same time.  "I've been on the road for days looking for you.  And the cops are up my ass for that bitch Shirl, and now Wendy, and -"

"Shh-shh," Trent silenced him with a single noise and one raised finger.  "We'll talk about your little problem later.  You're home now.  And for that, I think a small celebration is in order."

Swallowing hard, Carter forced a smile.  "What did you have in mind?" He asked, knowing full well what the answer would entail.

Still smiling, Trent crooked his finger.  Carter followed obediently as the other man made his way down a back hallway towards his studio.  He stopped at the door, his hand on the doorknob. "Normally, you will not be allowed in this room unless with my express permission or presence.  And those times you are, your opinions and thoughts on the contents are not permissible.  But I think tonight we can make an exception."

He opened the door and guided Carter through the doorway into the brightly lit room, closing the door behind them, and flipping the lock.  He stood with arms crossed over his chest, black jean clad legs spread apart, and smiled.  

"My latest endeavor.  What do you think?"

Carter stood very still, his brain struggling to process what he was seeing.  He'd known what kinds of atrocities Trent was capable of.  He'd heard all about his crimes in prison.  Had read the files.  Had helped him a bit with his numerous failed appeals.  He'd even seen the photographs.  Graphic photographs.  Very explicitly graphic photographs.  But nothing prepared him for….this….

"It's…it's…amazing…" he choked out finally.

Trent glanced over to see the fascinated, yet horrified look on Carter's face.  He smiled.  The younger man was so exquisite when he was afraid.  "You like my work, Squeak?"

Carter merely licked his suddenly dry lips, fighting his rising bile, managing a bare nod, his eyes never leaving the naked woman hanging from a hook by her shackled wrists over a crimson stained drain in the tiled floor. 

"Good," Trent smiled as he put a hand on Carter's shoulder, his fingers caressing the muscle beneath them idly.  "That will make things so much easier."

Everything and everyone could be bought.  Everything had a price.  Everything.

And it was time for Carter to pay up.

"Do not touch."  Trent's words, while softly spoken, had the same effect as a whip crack.  Carter dropped his hand immediately, not even realizing that he'd raised it.  He lowered his head.  With a firm touch, Trent caressed Carter's hair, running his fingers through the blonde locks.  "Very good, Squeak.  I'm pleased you've not forgotten.  It will make our renewed association so much more amenable.  Don't you think?"

The other man didn't answer, but instead nodded, keeping his eyes lowered.  The fingers running through his hair grew rough, curling into a fist and pulling backward so that Carter had to look up or risk his hair being pulled from his scalp.  Still he kept his eyes nearly closed. 

"Oh, very good.  You remember your lessons well."  Trent purred in a cold, yet silkily smooth voice.  "Down."

Immediately Carter dropped to his knees, head bowed, hands clasped behind his back, ankles crossed over one another.  Trent stepped closer until his belt was even with Carter's forehead.

"Proceed," he ordered.

Lifting his head, Carter raised his hands, and deftly unbuckled and opened Trent's belt, leaving it dangling from the loops.  He lowered the zip, and pushed the now open placket of his jeans open.  Then he clasped his hands behind his back and pressed his face into Trent's groin, nose first.

With nimble lips, he kissed, mouthed, and rooted around until he was able to work the half erect cock past his lips.  As Carter further opened his lips, Trent shoved his cock in Carter's mouth and began thrusting slowly. He was being gentle, allowing him to get used to it again so he could breathe.  But Carter knew that wouldn't last long. 

He was well aware his life depended on pleasing Trent, and pleasing him like he had never been pleased before. Carter suckled with all of his might, his tongue swirling over the head of his cock, probing at the slit, lapping up the pre-come beading on the tip. Trent started thrusting deeper into Carter's mouth, he was almost gagging, but he suckled even harder.

"Ah yes… very good…a little harder Squeak…" Trent sighed between his moans of pleasure. Bringing his hands up to clasp on either side of Carter's head, Trent began forcing his cock deep into Carter's throat, fucking his face in earnest.  He was gagging, but knew he had no other choice but to comply.  After a few minutes, Trent pulled out his glistening swollen cock out of Carter's mouth. Finally Carter got a chance to catch his breath, but not long.

"Undress."

Quickly Carter divested himself of his clothing and in moment was back on his knees completely naked.  He shivered in the cool air of the tiled room, his knees protesting the hard surface.  But he dare not move without permission.  He'd learned that long ago.  So he waited.

Trent calmly removed his jeans and wife-beater, then reached for something just out of Carter's line of sight.  "Turn around."

The younger man turned, fear now breaking him out into a sweat, his heart pounding in a rapid tempo. 

"You've forgotten who you belong to, Squeak.  If you hadn't, you never would have run from me when I got out.  You wouldn't have married that mouse of a woman.  You'd have been right there waiting for me where you were supposed to be." Carter could feel Trent's body heat as he crouched behind him.  "I promise you, after tonight, you'll never forget again.  And I never break my promises, do I, Squeak?"

Carter shook his head.

"Say it.  I want to hear it."

"You never break your promises, Demon."

"And?" He prompted, circling one muscular arm around his neck, locking him into a choke hold.

Carter swallowed hard, his voice a mere rasp from terror.  "After tonight, I'll never forget who I belong to again."

"Damn right you won't."

A searing pain lit up his entire back as he felt a blade slice across his shoulders. Carter jumped forward, trying to throw his body away from the pain, but the strong arm around his neck kept him in place.  Another lick of fire raced through him as the blade then ran down his spine, joining with the first to make a "T".  Carter let out an animalistic scream, and started begging.  Begging for mercy.  Swearing obedience. Promising anything if it would keep him from being sliced to ribbons.

"Quiet." That one softly issued word silenced all noise in the room, except for the heavy breathing from the one on his knees in front of him.

Immediately Trent grabbed Carter's hair and threw him down on the floor, head down, ass up.  It had been a long time.  But he could do this.  Or so he thought.

As Trent lowered himself onto Carter's bleeding back, it started burning.  He convulsed in pain, screaming from the bottom of his lungs as Carter's tortured back burned from Trent's salty sweat.

Trent chuckled and pushed Carter's buttocks apart. His engorged cock touched Carter's anus and he pushed forward in one hard thrust.  The force of his driving hips tore past the outer muscle and slid all the way in. Carter couldn't help it and began screaming in sheer agony between the pain in his ass and the burning of the cuts on his back. 

"Quiet Squeak," Trent admonished with a groan of ecstasy.  "Take your ass-fucking like I taught you, or I'll give you something to really scream about."

Immediately Carter clamped down on his lips to stifle his screams.  Because while this was bad, he knew from personal experience it could get much, much worse.  With each thrust in and out of his asshole, he let only a small whimper escape. 

"Ah, yes," Trent groaned, speeding up his thrusts and reaching around to stroke Carter's limp cock in a painful grip.  "That's the noise I like." 

Trent continued brutally fucking him, stroking his cock in time with his thrusts, squeezing painfully every time he even began to get hard, instantly killing the erection.  And nothing pleased Trent more than to fuck him to his hearts content without Carter ever achieving orgasm.  Only after he was done fucking him was Carter allowed an erection.   And even then it was demanded.  This wasn't for Carter's pleasure, it was for Trent's. 

Panting, Trent licked and suckled at Carter's neck, whispering, "Glad to have you back, Squeak.  I've missed you," right before he bit down fiercely, wrenching a pathetically raspy squeak from the other man's throat.

With a loud moan of lust and pleasure, Trent came hard, his fingers curling painfully into his hips as he held the younger man flush against him as he emptied himself into the bleeding, broken body beneath him.  He waited a moment then pulled out of him with a pop, and settled back on his haunches.

Knowing what came next, Trent waited until he felt the foot on his ass push him over.  "Go on."

Carter lay on his back, knees bent, feet flat on the floor, and legs spread, grimacing at the chill from the tiled floor leeching the heat from his body.  He reached down, took his abused and sore cock in hand, and began to stroke himself while Trent watched the blood and semen seep from his abused ass.  The younger man stroked himself furiously, but in complete silence, desperate to give Trent what he wanted.

Only sound of soft whimpers could be heard as the woman watched them in the multiple mirrors lining the walls.  She had no choice.  When he'd taken her and brought her to this place, the first thing he'd done was clamp open her eyelids so she couldn't shut out the sight of what he was doing to her. 

So she watched, crying silently, as the man who referred to himself as Demon watched the other man's pathetic attempt to masturbate.  He was too sore to accomplish it.  Then the beating began.  Demon's fist made dull, rhythmic thumping sounds as he drove it repeatedly into the other man's abdomen. The man called Squeak took the beating without a sound, curling over Demon's fist almost like he was enjoying each blow. 

She started sobbing in earnest, pulling futilely at her shackles.  She'd been in this Hell for three days, and he'd hurt her terribly.  Pain like she'd never known before.  But she honestly believed she'd live through it somehow.  But not anymore.  Not if the look in Squeak's eyes when he saw her, a combination of fear and want, was any indication.  She knew then that, despite what Demon had told her, she was going to die here. 

And no one would even miss her. 

-x-

So she trembled she did as he asked her
And out of the cage the bird flew
Soaring up into the rafters
On a wing that would feel good just new
And just as the midnight bells rang out
And the little bird started to sing
A song that no words could recapture
For its beauty was fit for a King
Now Maria felt blessed just to listen
To the cascade a note sweet and long
As her offering was lifted to heaven
By the very first Nightingale's song
            The Gift - Aselin Debison 

December 26, 2004  9:19 p.m. EST
Top of the Stairs - Lyon's Cove, Moccasin Gap, NC  

After putting the children to bed, Nan settled down on the top step of the massive staircase for a moment, just to enjoy the relative quiet.  She could still hear the party going on downstairs, but this far away, and this high up, it was muted to a dull rumbling.  She smiled to herself, thinking this was by far the best Christmas she'd ever had.  Almost everyone she loved was present and all were happy.

Happy.  Hunter was over the freaking moon.  She just knew he was going to be one of those husbands that the wife wanted to string up by his balls by the time the baby was born.  She smiled to herself.  It was going to be very different this time; she could feel it.  Different how, she wasn't sure yet.  But she was looking forward to it.

"You always did have a flair for the dramatic, I'll give you that.  Hell of a way to tell a man you're preggers."  Genie observed with a sardonic smirk firmly planted on her face, as she slowly climbed the stairs and easing down to sit beside her friend on the top step. 

"Not nearly as dramatic as the way you told Deez," Nan snorted.

"True.  Heh-heh," Genie chuckled then fell silent for a moment.  "You gonna be okay, Aramis?"

Nan turned a brilliant, if not tired, smile on her friend.  She slipped her arm through Genie's and leaned her head on the younger woman's uninjured shoulder.  "Of course, Porthos.  Why would you think otherwise?"

Genie nudged her, making the two of them sway in place a little bit.  "Scary prospect you having another baby."

Alarmed, Nan looked around quickly and nudged her friend back.  "Genie," she whispered furiously.  "Someone might hear you!"

"Honey, everyone present at this party knows you've had a baby before.  Well, with the exception of the one who really should know that is," the brunette pointed out. "And don't you think it's high time she knew too?"

"Yeah, but that's not my decision to make.  Had it been, it would have been common knowledge long ago."  Nan grumbled.  "And everyone at this party better not know," she replied, thinking of several people who didn't need to know about that at all.  At least, not until Tina did first.

"So, we're both knocked up and I'm moving to Florida in two days time."  Genie pursed her lips.  "Your timing really sucks, Aramis."

Nan turned wounded eyes on her friend, but another voice joined their conversation on the stairs before she could reply.  "And your delivery is still as caustic as ever, Porthos." 

The two women looked up to see Audrey climbing the stairs to seat herself on the other side of Nan, so that the redhead was sandwiched in the middle. 

"I never claimed to be the Southern Belle type, Athos."  Genie retorted, scowling at her other longtime friend. 

Audrey nodded.  "No one has ever asked you to be, either.  So how about giving those of us who love you and always have your back a break, okay?"

Genie opened and closed her mouth twice before a chagrined blush crept across her cheeks.  "Sorry.  Sometimes…sometimes I forget who my friends really are."

"Occupational hazard," Nan murmured, shaking off the hurt Genie's words inflicted.  She knew what her friend had meant, but Audrey was right.  Her delivery could often be too abrasive.

The native American beauty gave a sad sounding sigh.  "You have no idea."

"Yes we do," Nan answered fixing her friends, both of them, with a strong look. 

Audrey nodded.  "She's right.  We know, Genie.  We always have."

Genie bit the inside of her cheek and merely nodded.  "I'm such a bitch.  I don't mean to treat you guys badly."

"Don't worry about it.  It's a good part of the reason we take such great delight in knocking you on your metaphorical butt to remind you of who you are and who we are to you," Audrey replied. 

She slid her free hand through Nan's arm and lacing her fingers through the other woman's, effectively chaining the three together.  They sat that way for quite a while, each of them locked in their own thoughts. 

"Thanks, by the way," Audrey broke their thoughtful silence.  "For what you two did with Bo, I mean.  Granted, it was pretty cruel, if you think about it, but y'all were right.  I never would have gotten over it if things hadn't played out the way that they did."

Nan and Genie shared a guilty look.  "Drey, it wasn't exactly supposed to go down that way."

"I know," their friend replied.  "He was supposed to take me up on the offer and break my heart.  Thus, enter the cruel part I mentioned earlier.  But instead he did what we've all been waiting for him to do.  Grow up.  If he hadn't, then he and Poli wouldn't be down there together now."

Feeling absolutely horrible, Nan wiped at a tear that rolled down her cheek.  "Drey, we didn't mean -"

But she cut Nan off with a laugh and a quirky smile.  "It's okay, Nan.  Really.  It worked out.  If what went down between Bo, me, and Major Nash over there hadn't gone the way it did, I wouldn't be with Dennis now."

"Are you?  With him I mean," Genie asked.

Audrey rolled her eyes.  "Please don't start that again."

But the ebony haired woman shook her head.  "No, I just mean is it like official and stuff.  I'm not asking about your sex-life, I swear."

The brunette stared at her for a moment before turning wide, incredulous eyes on Nan.  "I think the baby hormones have gone to her brain.  She's not asking about my love-life?"

"Mmmm…I think it's the newlywed vibes," Nan teased.  "They really screw with your emotional equilibrium."

Audrey nodded sagely.  "Must be all that regular sex."

"Oh shut up.  The both of you."  Genie ducked her head, her hair falling into her face.  "I just…we've been through a hell of a lot, the three of us.  You're my best friends.  My only friends.  Y'all are all I've got, you know?"

Feeling a tug on her hair, she turned her head to see both women smiling at her.  "No, Porthos," Audrey began.  "We're not all you have.  You've got that gorgeous man you're married to."

"Don't forget about the cub," Nan grinned, her eyes glassy with unshed tears, using the nickname that Genie had christened her baby with.  "Not to mention Miss Millie."

"And Lyon," Audrey reminded her. 

Genie's eyes went glassy, and her chin wobbled a little as she bit down on her bottom lip.  "Who wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for you two.  I still owe you both for that."

"No you don't," Audrey shook her head.

Nan nodded in agreement.  "We did what we had to that night.  I'm just glad things worked out the way they did.  He's a good man."

"One of the best," Genie murmured softly.  She turned sad eyes up to Nan.  "We were supposed to do this together, you and me.  Smurfette here too, but she's always been a little short out of the gate."

"Don't start with me, Ba--Nash!" 

Genie grinned widely.  "Yeah, that's gonna take some getting used to, ain't it, Athos?"

The other two women chuckled as Audrey gave them both the finger. 

Nan squeezed Genie's hand.  "And we will do it together.  Just long distance.  You think for one minute I won't hop a plane and show up in Key Largo if you need me?  Try me."

"Goes both ways, you know.  For both of you," Genie reminded her. 

"'Course it does," Audrey smiled, freeing her hand from Nan's.  She extended it to the two of them, palm down, and waited.

"All for one," Nan whispered, placing her hand on Audrey's.  Genie's hand quickly joined them.

"And one for all," she finished as she wiped furiously at her eyes.  "Damn you both.  You know I hate crying."

"Get used to it," Nan laughed loudly, the sound of her amusement carrying easily down the stairs and into the hallway as she hugged her friend tightly.  "If I remember correctly, you're gonna do a lot of it," she finished in a whisper.

Audrey smiled and wrapped her arms around them both as well.  "And over Kodak commercials too."

"Oh that's just fuckin' peachy," Genie replied with a scowl, but ruined the effect when a watery giggle escaped. 

"Holy Mary Mother of God!"  Three pair of eyes swiveled to see Lyon standing at the base of the stairs with his mouth agape and his eyes wide.  Then he broke into a huge grin and yelled, "Did my sister just giggle?"

"Oh you are so busted," Nan mumbled softly.

"You did!  You giggled!"  Lyon crowed.

"You're a dead man!"  Genie yelled as she stood up and started down the stairs.

But Lyon wasn't so easily deterred. Her brother raced off towards the living room.  "Diesel!  Shiwóyé!  Call Guinness!  Regina just giggled!!"

Genie's shriek echoed through the house.  "Shut the hell up, Zachary!!" 

-x-

We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to now
And tried to reach beyond the emptiness
But neither one knew how.
We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
Reliving in our eloquence
Another 'auld lang syne'...
            Same Old Lang Syne - Dan Fogelberg 

January 1, 2005 6:54 a.m.
Michaels Residence, San Antonio, TX 

Shawn sat in his den, in the dark, vacant blue eyes directed towards the big floor to ceiling window against the far wall.  The Texan sky had just begun to show hints of pink, announcing the imminent arrival of the sun.  It promised to be a glorious sunrise.  But Shawn didn't see any of it.

Instead his eyes were locked into the past, his thoughts turned inward as they had been for a few days.   So much had gone so wrong so quickly back then.  But the one thing that stood out from his altercation with his cousin at the wedding was the man's continued belief that he'd been first.

Only he hadn't been.  And only Shawn and Nan knew the truth of that matter.  They'd let everyone believe Carter had taken Nan's virginity the night he'd raped her.  But the truth of the matter was that mere hours before, he and Nan had made love for the first time.  So she was still somewhat sore and uncomfortable when Carter attacked her.  Enough for the older man to think she was still untouched.

Together, he and Nan, once he'd gotten her to agree to press charges and testify against his cousin, had lied and denied that they'd ever been intimate.  And they didn't have DNA testing in 1984 to prove them to be lying about that either.  A brutally attacked and raped underage virgin, and a suspect known for violent outbursts juxtaposed with an arrogant recounting of consensual sex by the same suspect made a trial foregone conclusion.  They'd gotten a judge tough on rape cases, and a very sympathetic jury.  After that, it had been a slam dunk on Carter.    He just wished the bastard had gotten more than five years.

But to add insult to injury, Nan turned up pregnant.  Carter could have just as much as been the father as Shawn.  But Shawn, knowing Nan couldn't handle anything else at that point had immediately stepped up, vowing the baby was his, never really knowing or not if it were true.  Her parents believed it.  Probably because not to, was to entertain something so abhorrent that no one wanted to face it.  By then, they knew Nan would be giving the baby up for adoption.  So Shawn told Nan that he wanted to be listed as the father on the birth certificate.  And the rest was history. 

Three years later, DNA testing in rape cases began in the US.  From what Shawn knew, Carter had petitioned the courts to have his case reopened because of it.  However, due to the overwhelming influx of such cases, Carter had served his entire five year sentence before his case came up.  By then, he and Nan had broken up, the baby had been adopted safely out of state, and he let his cousin slip off his radar.

Shawn felt a serious pang of guilt as he thought back on his conversation with Nan the night before the wedding.  Although she had a few other boyfriends and later began a tumultuous relationship with Bobby Wallace, he and Nan had been anything but over.  Bobby and Nan had their ups and downs, and through every down, Shawn was the one Nan ran to.  Sometimes he and she picked up where they left off, and sometimes they didn't.

That time in New York shortly before she left to go back home to North Carolina was far from their last time together.  More than once, after a break-up she'd had with Bobby, Shawn would find Nan in his arms and later in his bed, only for her to go back to Bobby when Shawn had to leave to go on to the next town. 

That had all ended when he'd met and fallen for Becky.  Nan fell almost at the same time for Hunter.  He wondered more than once what would have happened if she'd come with him on the road rather than stayed behind.  But, he decided, it was for the best that she hadn't. 

He sighed.  He was seriously regretting not coming clean with Becky about Nan and his ongoing relationship dramas from day one.  He sincerely hoped she was as forgiving about his lying to her about it as she had been for his alcohol and drug addictions.  He really didn't deserve her.  This wasn't going to be pretty.  But it was the right thing to do.  That thought gave him very little comfort, though, thinking of the look of betrayal he knew he'd find in his wife's eyes when he told her the truth about his relationship with their friend.

Swallowing hard, he glanced back down at the certified envelope that lay next to a three day old newspaper on the coffee table.  The three documents inside the envelope changed his whole life in the blink of an eye.  The information on them wasn't surprising.  Not really.  It only made it official.

It hadn't cost as much monetarily as he though it would.  A strand of hair complete with follicle from her, a cheek swab from himself, some DNA testing, a certified copy of a birth certificate, a willing, if not somewhat morally ambiguous distant relative whose heart was in the right place who also happened to work in the San Antonio Clerk of Court's office, a large amount of cash, and the whole thing was done.  In five days.  Just that simple. 

Leaning forward, he picked up one of the three sheets of paper, and read it again.  Its mate, identical except for three words, lay benignly on the table.  Shawn spared it not so much as a glance as he gently slid the sheet of parchment into the cross-hatch paper shredder he'd moved over to the couch when he'd first come in.  He winced at the overly loud noise the machine made in the silence of the coming dawn.

Done.  Nothing would ever be the same now. 

His compatriot in all of this wouldn't say anything.  In a warped twist of fate, his accomplice had been killed in a car accident some two days after the letter had been mailed, a week after he'd requested the contents inside.  He was now the only living person who knew what the other document had said.  There were no other records.  Anywhere.  He'd paid a large enough sum by going to a private agency for them to ensure it.

As well there shouldn't be, for what it was going to cost him.  Not monetarily, but personally.  Then again, there was no cost too high to do what he'd set into motion.  This was the only way to protect everyone involved.  And God knew protection was needed.  For all of them.

His gaze strayed over to the three-day-old newspaper.  He'd been quiet and withdrawn ever since that article in the paper had come out.  Becky had to have noticed.  He knew it wouldn't be long before the questions started.

His eyes dipped downward and read the headline again, its print accusatory and screaming at him. Head read the article so many times that he had it memorized, and each word hit him like a blow to the chest. 

Woman Found Murdered At Local Realty Office
Killer Still At Large 

By Eryn P. Davis - Express-News

SAN ANTONIO - Bexar County law enforcement officials are looking for the killer of a woman found at a local realty office just after the Christmas holidays.

The victim has been identified as Ms. Shirlene Parker, 27, of the Canyon Gate area, and was discovered inside the locked offices of Dunn Realty, Inc., on North Cranes Mill Road, according to Detective Sergeant Darren Oliver. 

An employee of Dunn Realty found the body upon his return to the building, even though the offices were to be closed for the entire week after Christmas.  "I left my cell phone there," the witness, who wished to remain anonymous, informed this reporter.  "Had I not gone back for it, she wouldn't have been found until after the new year.  Just horrible.  Shirl was nice lady.  Such a sweetheart."

The body was found in an advanced stage of decomposition and it was estimated that she'd been dead for several days.  The body was transported by Sunset Funeral Home to the Bexar County Medical Examiner's Office for an autopsy.

Precinct 4 Justice of the Peace Simon Matthews said Friday the autopsy report revealed the cause of death to be from multiple gunshot wounds to the head and chest but that the deceased had been tied, raped, and beaten prior to her death.

Officials have determined that Ms. Parker died sometime between the 19^th and 21^st of December, and that the death, as well as the abuse prior, took place on scene.

"She was horribly beaten and raped repeatedly for hours prior to her death.  Death in this case looked like a blessing for her," Detective Oliver said.

Oliver said officials do not have any suspects in the case currently in custody, but that the owner of Dunn Realty, a Mr. Carter Alan Dunn is of particular interest to the police.  "At this point, we just want to question him," Oliver said. 

Chief Deputy Bernard Holt said officials were alerting other law enforcement departments of the details of the case. "We've got an all points teletype out to all departments to see if they've got any other murders or attacks of a similar nature.  And we're taking forensic evidence from the body.  The killer left DNA and other tangible evidence behind that we're currently trying to match to any known felon of record."

A special request will be made to the FBI for assistance in speeding up the DNA matching if necessary, Holt said.  "We will find this man.  It's only a matter of time." 

Shawn felt sick, just as he had the first time he read the article three days ago.  He'd known Shirlene.  Her older sister and he had gone to high school together.  He had no idea that she'd taken a job with his cousin though.  If he had, he'd have tried to stop her.

And he couldn't help but responsible to what had happened to her.  He was the one who beat the living hell out of his cousin.  And Carter had never taken that type of humiliation well.  Oh, sure, the police might not know who had done that to Shirl.  But he did.  Because he'd done it before.  To Nan.  Only he'd not killed Nan when he finished with her.

Then his mother had called him three days ago to tell him that Wendy, Carter's long-suffering wife, had gone missing.  No one could find her and her parents were terrified that Carter had done something to her once they'd found out about Shirlene.

Shawn had decided right then that he couldn't let this go.  He'd called the police that night, safely away from his wife's ears, and laid everything on the line about his cousin, his past, and the fight that Shawn was positive was an influencing factor in Shirlene's death.  He gave them Brun's information to corroborate the details of their fight and Carter's subsequent arrest. 

They had to catch him and put him away permanently this time, Shawn thought to himself.  This time it wasn't just Nan and himself at stake.  It was Hunter and Nan.  And Lilly.  And Jack, little Hannah, and Hunter's and Nan's new baby.  And Becky, Cam and the yet-to-make-an-appearance Cheyenne. 

But most importantly it was Tina.  Tina was the target this time, he knew.  He could feel it in his bones.  That beautiful, brilliant young woman was in danger.  Only she had no idea, solely because her idiot of an adoptive father refused to tell her the truth. 

With that fixed firmly in his mind, Shawn picked up the cordless handset, and punched in the number for Information.  He gave the computer generated voice the name and location he wanted, then hit the key for automatic connection.  Yes, it was early on the East Coast, but this was too important to wait. 

After a few rings, a surly voice answered the phone.  "This had better be good."

Shawn stared straight ahead at the now breaking sunrise.  "Hello Robbie." 

"Who is this?"

"Shawn."

There was a split second of silence before an icy response greeted him.  "What do you want, Michaels?"

Shawn almost grinned at the totally unnecessary question.  Almost.  "You know what I want, Robbie.  Tell her."

He snorted.  "You have no say so in the matter, Michaels.  Goodbye -"

"Carter Dunn was at the wedding."

Robbie fell into immediate silence, but he didn't hang up either.

Shawn continued.  "I stopped him from getting to Nan and Tina.  Ask Brun if you don't believe me.  But he's not going to be stopped for long.  He's already done to someone else what he did to Nan twenty years ago.  Only this time, he killed the woman.  And now his wife is missing." 

The older man maintained his uncharacteristic silence, but Shawn could hear his shallow breathing.  "You're sure?"

"Positive," Shawn affirmed.  "The police are looking for him now.  But he's in the wind.  Care to guess where he's probably headed?"

"He wouldn't dare."

It was Shawn's turn to give a derisive snort at the other man's naïveté.  "Why wouldn't he?  You want what happened to Nan and to Shirl to happen to your daughter?  We both know he has no reason not to come after her now that he knows where and who she is."

He could practically hear the older man's mind scrambling for a way out.  "She's always on the road with that damned company.  How am I supposed to protect her when she's not here?!"

"You protect her by telling her the truth, Robbie.  And trusting that her hulk of a boyfriend, Hunter, myself, and every other wrestler in the WWE will do everything in their power to keep that maniac away from her."

Robbie's voice was quiet, and somewhat small.  "She's going to hate me…"

"Maybe.  At first," Shawn agreed.  "But regardless of who I am, who Nan really is, who Hunter is, and who Carter Dunn is, you are her Daddy.  And you always will be, no matter how she decides that the rest of us fit into her life.  She'll be mad and probably not speak to you for a while.  Us either.  But she loves you.  She'll get over it.  And even if she doesn't, she'll still be alive.  Isn't that what's most important?"

"Yeah," Robbie agreed, sounding more broken than Shawn had ever heard him sound before.

That sound sickened him.  It was his own fault, Shawn decided.  "Tell her the truth, Robbie.  Now.  Or I promise, when I see her in a week?  I'll do it for you." 

More than done with the conversation, Shawn didn't allow the other man to respond.  He simply hung up.  The ball was in Robbie's court now.  Shawn didn't make promises lightly, but this one wasn't light.  It was written in blood. 

His blood.  He'd make damn sure Tina found out who her biological father was if Robbie didn't do it, all legal ramifications be damned.  If Robbie wanted to be stupid and file charges against him, or report it to the North Carolina government to do it for him, then so be it.  Having Tina know what was coming at her was more important than any fine or jail time he could be facing.

Either way, in seven days, Tina would know the truth about everything.  At Robbie's hands or his. 

He gave a humorless chuckle as he picked up the remaining two documents and read them again.  New Year's Revolution pay-per-view promised to be very interesting this year if the other man refused to take his advice.  Come hell or high water, the truth was coming out in seven days, no matter who liked it, and who didn't.  It had too. 

Everybody was a target now.  Everybody.  And it was his fault, for allowing this deception to go on as long as it had.

"Shawn?"  Rebecca padded in on shuffling feet, one hand on her distended abdomen, rubbing absently at the child growing there, the other pushing her hair out of her face.  "What are you doing up so early, honey?"

His gut churning, but heart and head filled with an icy calm, Shawn reached up without turning and covered his wife's fingers with his free hand, squeezing gently.  "Sit with me?"

Nodding, she moved around the couch to lower her very pregnant frame onto the cushion beside him.  She shifted a bit, taking a pillow and stuffing it down behind her back before turning her full attention to her husband.  She immediately frowned seeing the blank expression on his face.  She felt a constricting tightness around her chest when her eyes fell on the newspaper, the now-opened certified envelope on the coffee table, and the unfolded papers clenched between fingers so tight that his knuckles were white.

"Shawn?  What is it?  What's wrong?"  Her heart fluttered in her chest when he slowly turned bleak eyes on her and laid the documents in her lap.

"Becky, we have to talk."

~End~

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