Notes: The title comes from The Christmas Song. This link will take you to the Cherished Teddies site: http://www.enesco.com/cat_Brand_Cherished-Teddies_1793.html They do have the sweetest faces. The song Ms. DiNois sings at the Christmas party is Santa Baby. Wills is singing (I’m Gettin’) Nuttin’ For Christmas. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. J Thanks to Tim Mead and Wolfsbride for their suggestions. This is for Tim and Jake, for Athea, for Trackrat (who told me of trouser rock-age), and most especially for Gail, whose suggestion started me thinking.
This Simple Phrase
By Tinnean
I raised the razor to my face, then paused and stared at myself in the mirror.
Six months, twenty-three days, twelve hours, thirty-nine minutes and… I turned my wrist to look at my watch. And forty-five seconds.
That was how long I had been living with Theo Bascopolis. At the thought of the former rentboy who had given up the profession because I’d asked him, my cock twitched.
Soon we’d be spending our first Christmas together.
I smiled at my reflection. “You’re really lucky, you know that?”
**
“C’mon, Wills, we’re going to write out our Christmas cards.” Theo gestured to the boxes of cards he’d placed on the coffee table in the living room. Next to them he had a notebook with names and addresses. “Now pick what you want. I have religious, secular, serious, humorous, for family, friends, strangers, the works.”
“Geez, babe. We’ve got plenty of time.” It was the first weekend in December. I usually sent Christmas cards a week before. If I had to be out of town on a job, the WBIS had something set up where the secretarial pool would make sure cards were mailed out.
“If we get it done now, we’ll have more time for other things later.”
“What other things?” He had no idea the number of cards I’d need – my family could populate a small country – but he was starting to get me interested.
“Oh, you know. Decking the halls, fa-la-la-ing, fun stuff like that.” The way he waggled his eyebrows told me exactly what kind of fun stuff he had in mind.
“Okay, you talked me into it.” I counted up cards I’d need. My parents, the siblings, grandparents on both sides, aunts and uncles and cousins, friends…
For a moment I was sad, thinking of my friend, Michael. We’d drifted apart, but I’d always sent him a card, usually the more pious the better, since that drove him crazy. I smiled ruefully.
“Babe?”
“I was just thinking I’d have to find something for Michael’s parents that doesn’t go overboard on jolly and merry.”
He handed me one, a simple evergreen tree on a plain background. May the peace of this Holiday Season be with you now and throughout the coming year.
“Thanks.” I’d add some words of my own. They were nice people. I’d have to call Dad later and ask if he was going to send them one this year. And also to remind him not to mention how Michael had really died. If Michael, who’d been an adult, was so stupid as to scarf, I’d worried that my brother could be drawn into something like that as well, and so I’d felt the need to tell Dad the truth. “Hmm. Do you have something I can send to Mr. Vincent?”
“What do you usually send him?”
“Actually, this is the first year it’s germane.”
“Well, what did you send to previous superiors?”
Send one to Mr. Adams? My lips tightened. “I didn’t.”
Theo didn’t notice. His eyes were on the cards, and he just nodded. “How about if I send one from the both of us? Would you mind?”
“No, that’s fine. Thanks, Theo.”
I was about to sit on the floor and get comfortable when my lover asked, “What do you want to hear, babe?”
“Excuse me?”
“I always listen to Christmas music when I write out my cards. I’ve got Nat King Cole, Boyz II Men, Elvis, the WODS-FM Boston Ultimate Christmas Album...”
I glanced at the stack he was holding. “That looks like more than four CDs, Theo.”
He mumbled something.
“What was that?”
“I have all six of the Ultimate Christmas Albums. Er… I didn’t tell you about that?”
“Obviously not.”
“Oh, well, it was no biggie. Really.” He turned away to fuss with the CD player, but not before I saw how red his cheeks were.
“Theo?”
“I called your stepmom and asked what Christmas music you liked. She said when you lived in Cambridge you always listened to 103, and she offered to send me the CDs.”
“And?”
“I told her she didn’t have to go to all that trouble, and I went online to Amazon.com and ordered them.”
I took the CDs out of his hands and put them on the coffee table, wound my fingers into the soft sweater he was wearing, and pulled him close to me. “Theo,” I kissed him, “that was so,” I kissed him again, “sweet.”
By that time, his hands were in my hair, tightening on the strands, and he took control of the kiss. He rubbed his tongue over my teeth, against my tongue, against the roof of my mouth.
Abruptly he stilled, then pulled back.
“It’s not gonna work, smart guy. We’re doing the cards.”
“Well, it was worth a try.” Anything was worth having Theo kiss me. I started to step away, and he dragged me back to him and kissed me again. God, I could never get enough of his kisses!
“The cards now, babe, but if you get them done fast enough, we’ll have plenty of time for…” He waggled his eyebrows at me again.
“What are we waiting for, then? I’m halfway done!”
He grinned and loaded the CDs into the player, and the sweet tones of Nat King Cole singing about chestnuts roasting on an open fire filled the room.
“We ought to get a fireplace installed,” I said as I scribbled something in the card for JR, my younger brother.
“Why? We have plenty of heat.”
“Yeah.” But that wasn’t why... I addressed the envelope and pulled out another card, one covered in kitties wearing Santa hats that would be perfect for my little sister.
Theo chewed on the back of his pen. “Should I put anything in the card I’m sending my family?”
“Beyond ‘Love, Theo and Wills’?” I asked absently and shrugged. “How do…”
He had gotten very quiet, and I looked up to see he had a shocked look on his face.
Fuck. “I’m sorry, Theo, scratch that. Of course you don’t want to sign the card like that.”
I found myself flat on my back, with Theo sprawled on top of me. “You’d really be okay with me signing the card like that?”
“Theo, have you suddenly gone mental on me? Of course I’m okay with that. How do you think I signed the cards to my family?”
“You… you really did?” His eyes glinted with tears. “I thought… I thought…”
“Ah, babe, you think too much.” I cupped his cheek in my palm and rubbed my thumb over his cheekbone. “You know something, Theo? You really rock my trousers!”
He gave a watery chuckle and buried his face in my shoulder. “You’ve been talking to your brother again, haven’t you?” He knew I usually picked up the latest kids’ jargon from Jar. “Well, you cause serious trouser-rockage in mine too.”
“If we’re done writing cards, I could think of something more interesting to do.”
“We’re not done, but what the hell, we can finish this tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” I hid my smile. “‘After all, tomorrow is another day.’” He pinched my ass. “Ouch!”
“Smarty.” He went to work stripping off my clothes.
“Now, y’see?” I groused teasingly. “If we had a fireplace, we could be doing this on a faux fur rug, and you’d know my nipples were hard because of you, and not because it’s so freaking cold in here!”
He became very still, and then he grinned down into my eyes, and my cock got even harder. “We don’t really need a fireplace, do we, babe?” His fingertips circled my nipples, pressed down lightly, then traced my treasure trail down past my navel.
I could feel sweat break out at my hair line, under my arms, down my breastbone, all over me. “No,” I groaned. “No! Now fuck me!”
**
It had been the day from hell, which had been preceded by the week from hell.
Mr. Vincent had sent me out to the West Coast to deal with some loose ends that an FBI agent had left dangling. When I finished, I returned to DC and went straight from the airport to WBIS headquarters and got started on the paperwork.
In the Washington Bureau of Intelligence and Security, field agents didn’t work on the clock.
It was after midnight by the time I got home, and my tail was really dragging. I unlocked the door to the apartment I shared with my lover.
The scent of cinnamon and gingerbread mingled with pine, and something else. “Theo?” I dropped my carry-on case beside the door.
“I’m in the living room, Wills. I knew you’d be home today, and I thought I’d get started on the tree.”
The living room was dark, but not pitch dark. I could see the outline of the tree, lit by the fairy lights blinking red, blue, green, white.
“I’m sorry, babe. I really wanted to help you.” The colors swam together, and I blinked and shook my head.
Theo came into the hallway, and I almost swallowed my tongue. He was wearing jeans and a fisherman knit sweater. The sleeves were rolled up, leaving his forearms bare. On his feet were white sweat socks.
I thought about the couch in the living room. I thought about lying on it next to him. My cock twitched, but that was about all it was up for. “Damn, Theo. You don’t play fair.”
“Wasn’t my intention.” He laughed softly at my disbelieving expression. “Seriously, it wasn’t.” He came toward me, and then his arms were around me, and I inhaled his scent.
Along with a scent that wasn’t Theo. “Something burning?”
“That’s just a new candle I was trying out.”
“I like it.” There was something warm and cozy about it. It reminded me of cold winter nights in Cambridge, when we’d have a fire, and Dad would sit in his big chair, reading A Visit From St. Nicholas, while Jill played carols on the piano and Jar and Marti swore they weren’t tired, even though they could barely keep their eyes open.
“I’ll keep it then.”
He was keeping something? Oh, yeah, the candle. I smiled into his neck.
“Did you eat anything?”
“Ms. DiNois brought up a sandwich from the cafeteria… I’m pretty sure I ate it.” My brain was getting muzzy, and only then did I realize I was starting to list to starboard. “I must have. I don’t feel hungry.”
“Why don’t you take a shower and hit the sack? You can take a shower without drowning yourself, can’t you?”
“Yeah.” I was pretty sure, at any rate. “I’m sorry, Theo.”
“Don’t worry about it. Windburn?” He touched my cheeks and nose.
“Huh?” I almost corrected him, telling him it was sunburn, then remembered I was supposed to have been in Minnesota, not California. “Oh. Yeah. Windburn.”
“Come on, you’re falling asleep on your feet. Let me give you a hand with your coat.”
My lover eased it off my shoulders and hung it in the closet. I stood there swaying from accumulated fatigue. “Damn,” I repeated. “Fine partner I am.”
“Wills, you’re an excellent partner. You’re… it’s okay. Really.”
I sighed. “Yeah?”
He kissed my cheek. “Go on, babe. I’ll turn off the lights.”
I walked into our bedroom. Usually I was meticulous about hanging up my clothes, but this time I dropped my suit jacket on the floor. I’d been just about living in it, and I’d have to send it to the cleaners anyway.
I was careful with my gun, though. I removed the shoulder holster, wrapped the harness around my weapon, and put it in a lockbox on the shelf in the back of the closet.
Almost comatose, I stripped off the rest of my clothes and walked into the bathroom. The tile was cool against my shoulder as I leaned against it, waiting for the water to heat.
Steam was filling the room by the time I roused myself enough to step into the enclosure. I groaned as the hot water pelted down on me, warming me and easing some of the aches I’d picked up over the last eight days, although it didn’t do much for my fatigue.
“Here, let me help you.” Theo’s arm reached around me, and he took the bottle of shampoo from the shelf built into a corner wall of the shower. He worked up a lather, flexing his fingers in my hair. I closed my eyes and tipped my head back. The last person to wash my hair had been my Mom, and I had been five years old.
Theo seemed obsessed with my hair, and whenever he had the opportunity, he had his hands in it, finger-combing it, winding the strands around his fingers, tugging on them. He would knead my scalp, and I would be reduced to a quivering mass of Jell-O.
There was that spot behind my left ear that produced the same results. What was it with my head? It had never been an erogenous zone before. Or was it just my lover and his very educated fingers?
I came back to the present to find those fingers wrapped around my cock. “You really are tired, aren’t you, babe?”
“Oh, god! I’m dead.” That was the only reason I could come up with for not being aroused when my lover put his hands on me. “Why haven’t I been buried?” I glared at him – or at least tried to – as he threw back his head and laughed.
“Come on, baby. I’ll dry you off and put you to bed.”
“Sounds good to me. I’m sor…” I bit off the apology. There was nothing as tedious as an unwanted apology.
He got me into the bedroom, and I sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the alarm clock.
“I’ve already set it, Wills.”
“Thanks, Theo.” He had set it for 6, the normal time I got up. I changed it to 5. I could make do with an hour less of sleep, especially if it was for the opportunity of making love with him.
He tucked the covers around my shoulders and kissed the corner of my mouth. “‘Night, babe.”
**
The week since I’d returned from the West Coast had been hectic, my hours longer and more erratic than usual. As a result, I’d barely get home from work and have dinner before Theo would hustle me off to bed.
“Hey!” I protested as he pulled the plate out from under my fork.
“You look like you’re about to fall asleep in the spaghetti, babe.”
“I’m not that tired!”
“Oh, no? Good!” The look he gave me… My mouth went dry and I forgot all about dinner.
When I had a spare second to think about it, it occurred to me that there was something almost desperate about Theo’s lovemaking. We’d always had frequent sex, but this past week it was as if he wanted to imprint himself on my senses so I would never forget him – as if that was even a remote possibility. But Theo would tempt and tease me, and we’d usually wind up going straight to bed, if he didn’t take me over the dining room table or the kitchen island, not that I had any objection to that.
Although there had been the time when I’d surprised him while he was doing laundry, and I’d had him against the washing machine as it hummed and vibrated –
Maytag was missing out on an excellent aspect of advertising.
And then the reason behind his behavior hit me like a ton of bricks. He’d told me a little of the nightmare he’d had when I’d been out of town. That was it. He was still reacting to that nightmare.
Satisfied that all was right in my world, I lay back and let him do whatever he wanted to my body.
**
Christmas Eve had finally arrived, and I was on a shuttle to Massachusetts to pick up Theo’s present. I was a little sore, and I shifted in my seat, but I relished the tiny ache of his possession.
Once at Logan, I hailed a cab and had the driver take me to the big house in Cambridge. I told him to wait while I ran inside.
Jill, my stepmom, took the small packages I had brought with me. All of the presents had been mailed earlier in the month, but these were just a few things I thought the family would enjoy. Turquoise and silver earrings from Arizona for Jill, a sharks-tooth pendant from Florida for JR, a scale model of a Lamborghini Diablo from LA for Dad, and a 1959 Barbie in the original box for Marti. Theo and I had gone to Manhattan for a naughty weekend, and I’d come across it in a little shop in the Village.
And of course I hadn’t forgotten Alice. She collected Cherished Teddies, and I’d found one for her of a grandma Teddy cuddling her two grandcubs.
“I really wish you could have brought Theo up with you, Wills.” Jill gave me his present.
“It would have spoiled the surprise.”
“I suppose that’s true. When are you bringing him back, then?”
“You’re wonderful, Jill!” I hugged her fiercely, and she squeaked. “Sorry. The next free time I have, I promise! I’ll let you know after the holidays.”
“Well, keep Marti’s birthday in mind. She and Jar weren’t happy when they learned you were making one of your flying visits. If they could have gotten out of those commitments…”
Their Scout troops went caroling at various local hospitals every year, entertaining the patients and bringing some Yuletide cheer.
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry I missed them, and I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“With Theo.”
“With Theo. Jill, are you all right?” She’d been rubbing her abdomen.
“I’m fine, sweetie.” She grinned and waved it away. “Now, are you sure you have everything you’ll need?”
“Everything you had on the list.” I glanced at my watch. “Okay, then. I’d better go or I’ll miss my flight. Give everyone my love.” I kissed her hastily and ran out to the cab.
I got back to DC in time for the office Christmas party.
I put Theo’s present in my office and headed for the cafeteria, which was where the party was being held.
On the way I passed Mr. Vincent in the corridor. His mouth was in a grim line, and I wondered who had pissed him off now. Not a smart move at any time.
When he saw me, it became even grimmer. “Cute card you sent, Matheson.”
“Sir?”
“Santa’s sled dangling off an outhouse roof, the reindeer all tangled in their harnesses…”
“Excuse me?”
He went on as if I hadn’t interrupted him. “… telling off the fucking animals, ‘I said the Schmidt house, goddammit!’”
“Oh, shit.” Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to let Theo mail it without looking at it first.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, sir.”
His eyes narrowed in a glare that almost turned me to cinders. “Next time you send me a holiday card, Matheson, I expect it to be more appropriate.”
“Yes, sir. I’m very sorry sir, you can be sure it won’t happen again, sir…”
“Matheson, who really picked out that card?”
I swallowed hard. “I did, sir. It was my choice, a very poor choice. I promise you it won’t…”
“Do me a favor. Tell Theo if he sends me a card like that again, I’m going to show him what Santa really should have done to those incompetent reindeer.” He turned away, but not before I saw the small grin that curved his lips.
Mr. Vincent had a sense of humor? Fortunately, my jaw hadn’t dropped, because he paused and looked over his shoulder.
“If you’re going to the party, you’d better get a move on. It’s already underway.”
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Yes, sir. Um… merry Christmas, Mr. Vincent.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He disappeared into the stairwell, and the door swung shut behind him.
Christmas at the WBIS was an experience. Mr. Wallace would put in a brief appearance, have a drink with us, and then leave. Directors and deputy directors, senior and junior agents, trainees, and support staff would mingle for the only time during the year.
The cafeteria had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Silver icicles, artificial snow, branches of evergreen, boughs of holly, and the ever-popular mistletoe.
Dev Howard, an agent who had been recruited a few years before Michael and I, handed me a plastic cup filled with a cherry-colored liquid. I sniffed cautiously.
“Lighten up, Matheson. It’s just Hawaiian Punch.” He grinned and punched my shoulder.
I didn’t like Hawaiian Punch, it was too sweet, but I took a sip to be sociable. It was Christmas, after all.
I didn’t realize until later that while it may have started life as Hawaiian Punch, somewhere along the line, a little something had been added to make it more interesting. All I knew was that this punch tasted better than any Hawaiian Punch I’d ever had. I finished that cup and took another when someone offered it to me.
The line at the buffet table was long, and I decided I’d wait until it shortened a bit. Meanwhile, I accepted another drink.
I was in the corner, having an intense conversation with someone who was wearing an overcoat and a felt hat, which was kind of unusual, but I knew some people didn’t deal well with the cold DC winter we’d been having, not having the benefit of being raised in the Northeast, when Howard took the cup from my hand.
“Hey!” I protested mildly.
“Bad batch, Matheson. Here, have a cup of coffee instead.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you.”
“It’ll help sober you up.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Humor me, okay?”
“Y’know, my Dad always said having coffee after you’ve been drinking only makes you a wide awake drunk.” I smiled at him, and he blinked.
“Jesus, now you have to show me how human you can be?”
It was my turn to blink, but Howard stalked off. “He walks like he has a roll of quarters up his butt,” I confided to my companion.
There was a flash, and I blinked again, this time at the colored lights that were flickering in front of my eyes. Granger lowered the camera he held and winked at me.
He wasn’t trying to make a pass at me, was he? Although I’d never made a secret of the fact that I was living with a man I cared about very much, no one knew much about Granger’s private life.
He took pictures of the tree the support staff had set up, and the decorations, as well as some of the couples who were dancing to Christmas music coming from a CD player, and I remembered that he was the editor, publisher, and photographer for Spy and Spook.
Okay, so no pass. Relieved, I took another swallow of my coffee, and turned to watch as Howard confronted Alexander Bancroft.
Bancroft had worked for Mr. Davies, the Director of Public Relations, who I’d had a run-in with just this past spring. Since Mr. Davies was… taking a leave of absence, I grinned to myself, Bancroft, from what I’d learned, had been working under one director after another. None of them seemed to last very long, and I wondered how long it would be before Mr. Davies was called back. The man was an asshole, but he knew how to run his department.
Oh, well, at least I wasn’t the one who had to work for him. I turned my attention back to the entertainment I was certain Howard and Bancroft would provide.
“You spiked the punch, didn’t you? Didn’t you? Why? For the hell of it?”
Bancroft looked around nervously, but I was the only one aware of what was going on, and I had no intention of interfering. Howard had a nice command of invective, and it was always a pleasure to hear him swear.
“I want to talk to you!” He grabbed Bancroft by his tie and dragged him into a supply closet.
“Well, damn.” It looked as if the fun was over, but then, “Hey, look! Someone brought a karaoke machine!”
Arianne DiNois, my secretary, was holding the microphone and crooning into it. “Santa Cutie, just fill my stocking with a duplex and checks. Sign your X on the line Santa Baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight.”
There was a round of applause when she finished, complete with raucous wolf whistles. She handed me the mic. “Mr. Matheson. Isn’t that punch delic - delect - yummy? I think I’ll have another.” She smiled vaguely and started to wander off.
“I’ll see she doesn’t get into trouble, Mr. Matheson. Here.” Ms. Parker, Mr. Vincent’s secretary, handed me a plate piled with potato salad, cole slaw, salad, buffalo wings, and a wedge of the Italian hero. “This might do you more good than that coffee.”
“Oh, thanks, Ms. Parker.”
The crowd began chanting, “Sing. Sing. Sing.”
I looked at the mic in my other hand, brought it to my mouth, then paused as I considered what I should serenade my audience with. I remembered a song that always made my siblings giggle. I cleared my throat and started to sing.
“I’m gettin’ nuttin’ for Christmas. Mommy and Daddy are mad. I’m getting’ nuttin’ for Christmas, cause I ain’t been nuttin’ but bad.”
When I finished, to applause as appreciative as Ms. DiNois’, although less vocal, I bowed and tossed the mic to someone else who was panting to sing.
It had been fun. I didn’t get the opportunity to sing outside the shower.
I picked at the plate Ms. Parker had given me – where did the woman put it all? – then decided I’d had enough. Theo would probably have something for dinner, and I didn’t want to spoil my appetite. I took the plate to the nearest trash pail and tossed it.
It was time to leave; I wanted to surprise Theo with his present.
“I think I’ll go home now,” I informed no one in particular, and I went to the closet to get my overcoat.
I pulled open the door and, “Oops. Sorry, my mistake.” That punch had affected me more than I’d thought.
It was the supply closet Dev Howard had hustled Alexander Bancroft into.
The corner of Howard’s mouth curled up in a satisfied grin. He was holding a sprig of mistletoe. “No prob, Matheson.” He glanced over his shoulder at Bancroft, who was looking dazed and thoroughly kissed. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous.”
He strolled out of the closet, the grin now decidedly smug.
Bancroft followed him, and for a moment he looked lost. Until he realized I was watching him. He pulled himself together, curled his lip in a sneer that would have made his former boss proud, and left.
I felt sorry for him. And that was when I knew I was a little tipsy.
My overcoat was in my office, I remembered. I went back to get it, slid my arms into my coat, and retrieved Theo’s gift. Then I picked up the phone and called down to the garage.
“It’s Matheson. I need a ride home.”
The WBIS took care of its people.
**
The chill air helped sober me, and by the time I arrived home I had shrugged off most of the effects of the punch. I’d brush my teeth, take some aspirin, seduce Theo, take a shower, put on the black silk lounging pajamas he had given me for my birthday, give him his present, seduce him…
I let myself into our apartment and caught the scent of the candle I’d told him I liked. He was burning it for me. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on him. “Theo?”
There was no answer. He wasn’t there? “Well, shoot,” I groused to myself.
No, wait, that was a good thing. It would give me an opportunity to get another of his presents ready.
He had one of the spare bedrooms made over into an office for me, and he never went in there. I wouldn’t have minded, but he insisted I needed a room that was totally mine. So that was where I had hidden the litter pan, litter, scoop, cat food, food and water dishes, brushes, and a Christmas stocking for the kitten that I was giving him.
The little seal-lynx point Bobtail was starting to throw off the effects of the sedative Jill had administered just before I’d picked her up. I tickled the spot under her chin, and she gave a drowsy purr.
“I’ll be right back, precious.”
Without Theo around to distract me, I showered, brushed, and medicated in record time. It was warm in the apartment, so I left off the top of the pajamas, adjusted the pants so they hung low on my hips, then went to fetch the kitten.
I introduced her to the litter pan, which I’d found a corner for in the kitchen, gave her a little water, and put a big red bow around her neck and adjusted it until it was just right. “Okay, let’s go in the living room, put on the tree lights, and wait for Poppa.”
She made a chirruping sound, which I took for agreement. I rubbed my cheek against her fur.
“We definitely need to get a rug that feels like this, Miss Su, so Poppa and Daddy can roll around on…” I came to a dead stop.
Theo must have come home while I was in the kitchen; I hadn’t heard him. “I hope you don’t mind, Wills. I didn’t feel like cooking, so I picked up a couple of pizzas, one scallops and bacon in cream sauce, and the other bacon and pineapple.” Two boxes from the local pizzeria were on the dining room table, and he had set out some paper plates.
“I like the way you think, babe.” Suddenly I was nervous. The kitten hung placidly in my arms. I looked down at her, up at my lover, and thrust her at him. “Merry Christmas, Theo.”
His eyes widened, and his lips parted. “Wills! He’s mine?”
“She’s yours.”
“Oh, Wills!” He held out his arms, and I transferred the kitten to them. “She’s beautiful!”
“I… er… I saw how much you liked playing with them the last time we were up in Cambridge. Jill intended to give us one from the litter that Princess Kimba had last spring, but…”
It had broken my heart when I’d learned that a neighbor’s pit bull had somehow gotten into the yard and savaged the kitten. Princess Kimba and Jad bal Ja, her mate, had ripped into the dog, tearing off strips of flesh and fur, and it had run howling home, but it had been too late for the little tabby, who died en route to the vet’s office.
The worst of it were the effects on my brother and sister. Marti had seen the entire attack and had become hysterical. Jill had had to take her to the pediatrician, while Dad and JR had rushed Jasmine to the vet’s office.
JR blamed himself for not being outside – he was on the phone with one of his friends.
General Custer, the pit bull, got a reprieve, and his owner got a slap on the wrist.
Since neither the State of Massachusetts nor the City of Cambridge chose to do anything about it, I did.
Of course I made sure no one was aware.
Now I cleared my throat. “Princess Kimba surprised everyone with another litter in September, and I told Jill to make sure I had one to give you for Christmas.”
“What’s her name?”
“Marti’s been calling her Tiramisu, but you can change the name, babe.”
Theo laughed. “She does look like tiramisu with her coloring and all. Hello, Tiramisu.” He stroked her long fur, and nuzzled her. “Thank you, Wills.” He kissed me, but not as long as I would have liked. “Let’s eat. Then I’ll give you your present. Can she have some bacon?”
“No, Theo, not unless you want to spend the night sitting up with a kitty who has acid indigestion.”
I loved hearing him laugh. He held Miss Su in his lap while I put a slice of scallop/bacon/cream sauce pizza on his plate and put the bacon/pineapple one on mine, picking off the pineapple slices.
“Beer, babe?”
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
I brought two bottles from the kitchen and handed him his. He tapped it against mine. “Here’s to the first of many Christmases together.”
“And may we have a hundred of them.”
“Why limit ourselves?”
Why, indeed? “Then here’s to a forever of them.”
Theo looked as if I’d given him a present even better than Miss Su.
The kitten managed to get her front paws on the table and launched herself up onto the smooth surface. She sniffed inquisitively at the pizza.
“Next time we’ll have to get anchovies.”
“Theo, I love you, but not even for you will I eat anchovies.”
“They would be for Miss Suzie Q here.”
“I knew that.”
We both burst into laughter. Miss Su sat primly, her bobtail curved around her hindquarters, not quite reaching her hock, and watched with interest as we made inroads into the pizza.
“I think it should be okay to feed her now. The sedative seems to have worn off.” I rose from the table, picked her up, and took her into the kitchen. I set her down, and her ears cocked at the sound of the lid being popped off the can of Fancy Feast. I spooned the food into her bowl and put it on the floor. With an enthusiastic ‘rrrowl’ she buried her little nose in it, almost inhaling the chicken.
“Someone was hungry.” Theo came up beside me. He looked at me and smiled, leaned close, and licked the corner of my mouth. “You missed some sauce, babe.”
I ‘rrrowled’ and hauled him up against me. “I want to fuck you, Theo!”
“We don’t want to shock Miss Su.”
“We can shut her in the kitchen for the time being. We won’t be that long.”
“Wills, if we’re not that long, we’re not doing it right.” He ran his hand down my spine, and I leaned into him. His fingers slipped past the waistband of my lounging pants, and his eyes darkened when he realized I wore nothing under them. He rubbed my tailbone.
I swallowed, my reaction to his handling of me obvious in the way those pants were tented.
“Let me get the Sherpa bag Dad and Jill gave her for Christmas.”
“She gets Christmas presents too?” The idea seemed to startle Theo, and he knelt beside the kitten and gently stroked her head.
“Oh, yeah, babe.” I thought of the stocking filled with toys and treats. “And birthday presents, and any other occasion you can think of, Easter, Halloween, Valentine’s Day. It’s like having a baby.” His head jerked up, and I raised an eyebrow. “Babe?”
He shook his head and grinned sheepishly. “Poppa didn’t believe in spoiling pets.”
That was sad, I thought as I went to my office to retrieve the Sherpa bag. I’d liked Mr. Bascopolis, once I’d got over hating him for throwing Theo out when he was fifteen because he was gay, and when I’d realized he’d actually let Theo keep the kitten that had followed him how before his thirteenth birthday. We’d always had dogs in my family, and once Jill and Dad got married, there were the Bobtails, but even Uncle Pete, now that he and his partner Dave were retired and settled in North Carolina, had a three-legged dog they’d adopted from the Humane Society.
Miss Su was almost asleep when I returned. Theo put her in the bag, then rose and slid an arm around my waist. “Come on.”
“We’re not going in the bedroom?”
“Later.” We began walking through the dining room to the living room. He ran his palm over my chest and pinched a nipple. “You sure I can’t talk you into a nipple ring?”
“Nnnno.”
“Will you ever tell me why not?”
If I told him it was company policy, he might begin to ask questions I couldn’t give him answers to. I shrugged it off, pretending it wasn’t a big deal, and I was relieved when he didn’t push.
It must have been just an idle comment.
He stopped abruptly in the doorway to the living room, and licked his lips. He appeared to be as nervous as I had been earlier.
“Theo?”
“Merry Christmas, baby.”
I looked past him, and I realized why he’d found ways to keep me out of the living room; I realized why the apartment was so comfortably warm.
He’d had a fireplace installed for me. How he’d managed without me being aware…
“Do you… do you like it?”
“Are you kidding? C’mere, you!” I pulled him into my arms and showed him exactly how much I liked it.
**
Afterward, lying naked in front of the fire on the soft, plush rug that was also new, I held onto him tightly and stroked the warm muscles of his back while he nuzzled that spot under my left ear.
Oh, yeah. I sighed happily. I knew exactly how lucky I was.
~End~
