My thanks to GuardianAngel for reading through this and suggesting improvements - and again, my deepest thanks to my admin and fellow mods for offering encouragement to post when I was wallowing in frustration and self-pity. Alle, Lilly, Lucky, Phee and Red, hugs all around.
Usual disclaimers apply. I own nothing but my original characters.
LOOKING IN ON CHRISTMAS
December 25, 1954 - 2:16 a.m.
"Merry Christmas, darling."
Ruth St. John Peterson crawled out of bed, careful to keep the the iron-wrought headboard from squeaking or banging against the cheap wallpaper and rousing her sleeping husband. After sliding her arms into a thick quilted robe, she lifted the baby out of the cradle and cuddled him close as she carried him down the stairs and to a waiting bottle. Jimmy's days were long and tiring lately and she wanted him to get all the sleep he could, despite the newborn that shared their bedroom. Their dream of moving out of her parents' home and into their own was just around the corner and Jimmy worked every hour he could in order to make their dream come true faster.
Her steps were quiet and sure, experience making her miss the broken third step. Her smile was sad as she held the baby closer; her mother had admonished her father for years to fix that noisy step and Big Mike had promised for the same number of years to fix it 'when he got a minute free'. It was an affectionate game her parents had played, and she and her brother had grinned at each other every time Mama and Pop started the same conversation - they all knew Big Mike was never going to repair that step.
Since her brother had disappeared, the step wasn't the only broken thing in the St. John household that had never been repaired.
Her parents had tried without success to go on with their lives without the answers they so desperately wanted. All Ruth's policeman uncle could tell them was that from the looks of the hotel room the just-married St. Johns had rented, it was assumed that one or both of the newlyweds were dead. When a white-faced Jimmy had demanded when they could have Mick's body back so they could bury him, Uncle Frank rubbed a hand over weary eyes before pulling Jimmy aside.
We never found either of 'em - the sick bastard that killed 'em must have taken the bodies. My sister and your missus don't need to hear this, but you shoulda seen the blood, Jimmy. The bed was covered with it. There's no way someone can lose that much and survive.
A year later, Ruth had become pregnant, and her fervent prayers for a boy had been answered. The one shining light in the midst of all the St. John darkness was the two-month old baby she was carrying towards his two-o'clock feeding. Since Michael had been born, her father smiled a bit more and her mother cried less often.
She settled the fussy baby into the makeshift crib her mother kept in the kitchen for just such occasions and moved quickly to light the stove. She filled a pan halfway with water and set it on the burner, and grabbed a bottle out of the icebox. She frowned as she counted the bottles lining the top shelf - she and her mother would have to spend part of Christmas making more formula.
She set the bottle into water that had just begun to boil and opened the kitchen window above baby Michael's head. A warm breeze fluttered the filmy curtains, carrying the scents of the Los Angeles night into the cheerful kitchen. Ruth wrinkled her nose, her brows pulling together as a familiar scent tickled her nostrils.
Strange. That smells like the tobacco Mick used to smoke. He used to hide outside the kitchen door so Mama wouldn't catch him.
Her eyes filmed, and she dashed an impatient hand over them before the tears could fall. She shook her head as she pulled the bottle out of the water and turned off the stove. Screwing a nipple on the top, she tested the liquid on the inside of her wrist and scolded herself. Her brother was dead and no amount of nostalgia over cigarette smoke was going to bring him back.
Blinking back tears, she scooped the baby up and made herself comfortable in a kitchen chair. "There now, Mickey," she whispered as the baby worried the nipple in his mouth and waved a chubby fist. She kept her son's nickname to herself, since any mention of Mick's name sent her mother to hysterics. "Your first Christmas. How I wish your uncle Mick could be here to celebrate it with us and get to know you. He'd be so proud to know we gave you his name." Ruth rocked her son and began to hum a familiar Christmas song.
Silent Night.
It had always been Mick's favorite.
Outside the window, he wiped away a stray tear as he ground out his cigarette under his heel, and melted deeper into the shadows. He'd become a danger to the ones he loved when he became little more than an animal, but he'd lost the battle with himself to stay away from them any longer. The compulsion to see his family on Christmas was stronger than his resolve, and against Coraline's objections he'd come to his mother's house.
His control was so much better after two years. He hadn't killed while feeding in so long - he could be trusted around his family now. He'd just wait here until just before sunrise, then he'd slip into his mother's kitchen and be welcomed into the warmth of family he'd missed for so long. He could come back, love and be loved again...
The scent of the baby in his sister's arms wafted back to him. Mick was halfway to the kitchen door before he realized he'd moved, shocked when his tongue snaked around the fangs that relished the thought of such sweet, innocent blood. Horrified, he turned from the only home he'd known and stumbled into the night.
Coraline was right. He could never go back.
There was no Merry Christmas for a monster.
December 25, 1975, 3:24 p.m.
"Merry Christmas, Mom." Ruth hurried into her mother's room at Shady Acres Nursing home, purse and coat flying behind her. Pearl turned from staring out the window of her ground-floor room and gave her daughter a vague smile.
"Hello, Ruthie. Merry Christmas, sweetheart."
Ruth's shoulders sagged in relief. Jimmy was right behind her, bringing their four sons to celebrate Christmas with their grandmother, and Ruth had prayed the whole drive over that today would be one of her mother's good days. Her grip on reality had been tenuous at best after losing her son in 1952, but the death of Ruth's father three years ago had sent Pearl into her own world, one where her son was still alive and she waited patiently for her husband to come and bring her home.
When her mother had stopped taking care of herself after Big Mike had passed away, Ruth had persuaded Jimmy to move Pearl into Michael's old room, vacant since her oldest had gone off to college. Jimmy had had his misgivings.
You know I love your mother, Ruthie, but are you sure you can do this? Patrick's just in his junior year at high school, Ian's going to be busy with football, and Brian's too young to be of much help to you.
Don't worry, Jimmy. Mom won't be that much work, and the boys have agreed to help out whenever they could.
Unfortunately, it hadn't taken any of them long to realize Pearl needed more care than the people that loved her could provide. When Pearl began to wander away from the house at night, Ruth finally admitted defeat and began the torturous process of finding her mother a comfortable and affordable nursing home that could provide for her mother's needs. The day they moved Pearl into Shady Acres was the worst day of Ruth's life, third only to burying her father and losing Mick.
She remembered being so angry at Mick for being gone, for not being there to help her share the burden of losing their father to death and their mother to her own delusions.
"You're late, Ruth." Pearl rocked and stared out the window at the home's well-manicured grounds, interrupting her daughter's reverie.
"Late for what, Mom?" Ruth sat down opposite her mother and dropped her purse on the floor.
"Late to visit with Mick."
"Patrick was here? He never mentioned he was coming here alone." Surprise flitted across Ruth's face. Of all her sons, Patrick was the one that most resembled Mick, inheriting his uncle's hazel eyes and dimpled chin. Pearl often mistook the young man for her dead son, and Patrick would just smile, pat his grandma's hand and gently remind her that he wasn't his uncle.
"No, not Paddy. Mick. My son." Pearl's voice was impatient and petulant. "You just missed him. He stopped by to wish me Merry Christmas and bring me those beautiful yellow roses." Her smile became less vague, and for an instant Ruth was reminded of the strong, vibrant mother of her youth.
Ruth looked over at her mother's nightstand and sure enough, there was a big vase full of bright yellow roses. Her mother must have been confused - one of the staff must have brought them by and Pearl mistook them for Mick. "Mom, you know that's not possible," she said, her voice thick with tears. "Mick's gone, remember?"
"He looked so handsome, as handsome as the day he got married." Pearl continued as if Ruth had never spoken "You remember that day, Ruthie? You wore a blue dress, and Micky, he had on that new suit you helped him pick out. We were all so happy he'd found someone, after what happened with Lila."
"Mama--"
"I was so afraid that he'd never find someone else after Ray came home from the war." Pearl's mouth tightened in disapproval. "His hair is too long, though. He looks like one of those hippies that used to hang out on the street corners. I suppose his wife thinks he's good-looking with that long hair, but a man shouldn't wear his hair as long as a girl's. Why, in my day--"
"Mom." Ruth struggled to keep her voice even, but her frustration seeped through. When Pearl's lips quivered, Ruth moved across the room to kneel at her mother's feet and took one of Pearl's limp hands in her own. "Mama, listen to me - I miss Mick too, but he's been gone a long time. He couldn't have come to see you."
"He was here, Ruthie. I touched him, I hugged him. I talked to him." Pearl pulled her hand free of her daughter's and folded her arms across her chest, her jaw set in stubborn lines.
Ruth gave up. Keeping her mother lucid for her sons was more important that arguing with her about Ruth's dead brother. "What did he say, Mama?"
Pearl's brow furrowed with the effort of remembering. "He said...he said he was sorry."
I'm sorry, Ma...sorry for everything. I'm sorry I had to leave you and Pop and Ruth all those years ago. I didn't want to go, but it was too dangerous for all of us for me to stay. I tried to come back, but I couldn't risk harming any of you - I loved you all enough to give you up after I was...after what happened to me. Ma, I know you probably won't remember any of this, but I want you to know that I never stopped loving any of you. I never stopped missing you and I'm so sorry. I hate that I had to watch Ruthie's boys grow up from the shadows, and not being able to be there to bury Pop just about killed me. I wish I could tell Ruthie the same - that I hate she's had to do all this herself all these years and I'd do anything to change the way things turned out.
"Then he left, silent as a ghost. One second he was here, the next he was gone." Pearl waved a hand at the flowers on the nightstand, then rose to stand at the window. "He was here, Ruthie," she repeated in a whisper as tears slipped down her wrinkled cheeks. "I know I don't always get things right these days, but my boy was here."
Ruth moved to her mother's side and wrapped her arms around Pearl. "Ok, Mom...it's ok," she whispered as she laid her head on Pearl's shoulder. "Don't cry...it's all going to be ok."
Mother and daughter stared out the window, both lost in dreams and memories of a lost brother and son.
Hidden in the cool shade of a magnolia tree not far from his mother's room, Mick fumbled his sunglasses out of his coat pocket and slid them over wet eyes as he watched the two women at the window. He'd known better than to come here, but months of watching Pearl slip further and further from reality had given him a false sense of security. He had hoped she wouldn't remember his visit, but he hadn't counted on Ruth showing up as soon as she did. He'd barely gotten out of Pearl's room before his sister had come in. His heart had dropped to his booted toes when his mother had begun to tell Ruth about his visit, but he'd breathed a sigh of relief when Ruth's disbelief had come through loud and clear.
Thanks to Josef's help, Mick had made sure every female resident of his mother's home had received flowers for Christmas, so his gift wouldn't stand out as unusual if anyone's suspicious were aroused. The yellow roses had reminded him of the rose bushes Pearl had tended with so much love when he was a kid, and it was worth the risk of discovery to see his mother's face light up with joy when he'd carried them into her room.
Josef rarely involved himself in Mick and Coraline's affairs, but in this instance he had taken Coraline's side when she had all but forbidden Mick to make contact with his past.
It's too dangerous, my friend. At best, you'll upset the poor woman, at worst she'll remember you and give tongue like a hound in the field about her dead son coming back. As much as I hate to admit it, your wife is right this time. It's time to let the past be in the past.
Mick glanced down at his watch and chuckled grimly. Coraline was probably pacing the floors of her stylish home, wondering where the hell he was. They were expected at Josef's annual Christmas bash, an event Mick hated with a passion. Flash and feathers, diamonds and despair - lovely and perfect bodies frozen in time, animated on the outside, but cold and dead as a tomb on the inside. Coraline would dress him up and trot him out like a prized pet, pulling his strings, a puppetmaster with her own life-sized Pinnochio. He would get drunk and surly, she would pout, they would fight, and head home for a violent bout of make-up sex.
He turned up his collar and headed to the Mercedes to face the inevitable.
Merry fucking Christmas to me.
December 25, 1987 - 1:38 a.m.
"Merry Christmas, Mommy!"
Penni Turner raised her head and blinked at the clock, then at her six-year old daughter.
"Beth, honey...it's not Christmas yet. Go back to sleep. I bet Santa hasn't even been here." Santa was hoping she'd--HE'D get more sleep first.
"Santa hasn't come yet - I checked." Beth said with all the importance a six-year-old could muster. "But my guardian angel has."
Penni didn't even bother to sigh. Ever since Beth had been kidnapped, she had insisted an angel watched over her and visited her from time to time. Penni had never been particularly religious, but the belief in a guardian angel seemed to comfort her daughter, so she indulged a little girl's need to cling to something solid and safe in an unsafe world. She'd been sure Beth would outgrow the need for an imaginary friend, but the blue-eyed girl had clung to the fantasy with her usual stubbornness.
My angel comes to see me at night, Mommy. He doesn't have wings, but he has dark hair and his eyes change color when he gets mad...but he never gets mad at me. He seems really sad, so I try to make him smile at least once before he goes away again.
After two years, the trauma had moved further back into the little girl's subconscious, a fact for which Penni was grateful. The first few months had been a cycle of screaming night terrors and restless sleep in her mother's bed. Strangely, the nights not torn apart by nightmares were the ones Beth maintained her guardian angel came to see her. Other than her insistence a dark-haired angel visited her at night, Beth was otherwise well-adjusted, so Penni saw no harm in letting her baby girl be content in her belief.
Penni gave up and moved closer to the middle of the bed, holding the covers open so Beth could crawl in beside her.
"How do you know your guardian angel came to see you, baby?" Penni wondered how she would be able to sneak out of bed later to put Beth's presents under the tree without waking the little girl.
Beth's tiny mouth stretched in a yawn before cuddling against her mother. "He brought me a present. See?" She opened a clenched fist to show her mother. Penni frowned and leaned over her daughter to switch on the lamp on the nightstand, so she could take a closer look at what Beth held in her hand.
An angel, intricately carved from white marble, just big enough to rest comfortably in her daughter's small palm. Its face was serene, eyes closed and hands folded as if in prayer, wings tucked in close to its body. A halo sat atop its head.
"Baby, where did you get this?" Penni swallowed the dread in her throat and tried not to alarm the sleepy child. Ever since Beth had been taken, Penni saw monsters around every corner, was prepared for glowing eyes and clawed hands to snatch her precious daughter from her at any given moment. She had no way of knowing one of the monsters she feared had pledged himself to keeping Beth from harm no matter what it took.
"I told you, Mommy. My guardian angel gave it to me." Beth curled in closer to Penni and closed her fingers around the stone angel when her mother tried to take it from her.
"How? How did he give it to you?" A horrifying thought made Penni's stomach churn. "Beth, did you let a stranger into the house?"
"No. I can't reach the lock on the door. He gave it to me through my window. And he's not a stranger - he's my angel." Beth's lower lip quivered, big blue eyes blinking back tears. Her mother's voice was sharp, like it got when Beth was in trouble, and she struggled not to cry. "Did I do something bad?"
"Oh no...no, baby, you didn't do anything wrong." Penni hugged her girl and kissed the tousled blond curls. "Mommy just doesn't want you to get hurt."
"My guardian angel would never hurt me." Reassured she wasn't going to be scolded, Beth snuggled her head into the pillow. "He said that my present was so that I would remember he's always taking care of me, even if I can't see him all the time."
"That's good, baby." Penni tucked the covers around her daughter and kissed her cheek. "Go to sleep now...I love you."
"Love you too, Mommy." The words were slurred around the thumb Beth had popped into her mouth. Penni waited until the little body next to hers slackened with sleep, then slipped from the bed and went to the window. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, looking out at the twinkling lights on the neighboring houses and the sliver of moon that shone down on a California Christmas. Feeling foolish, Penni sent a thought into the night.
Whoever you are, whatever you are, thank you for making my Beth feel safe.
Mick waited until Beth's mother disappeared from the window before slipping out of the shadows and towards the waiting Mercedes. Between being a vampire and a P.I., no one would see him unless he wanted them to, but there was no harm in being careful. All he needed was to have one of the predators that roamed the night spot him, and report him to Josef. The older vampire might consider Mick a friend, but Josef wouldn't be happy with his friend's continuing to keep tabs on this human child and might feel obligated to take steps.
His steps were quick and sure, secure in the knowledge he was another day closer to redemption. Since a four-year-old girl had almost paid the price of Mick's decision to leave Coraline forever, he had spent every day since making sure he atoned for that sin. Josef had been amused, then irritated at Mick's decision to walk away from the endless parade of parties and freshies, and had been shocked outright when Mick announced he would no longer feed fresh. When his cajoling and arguing proved futile, Josef had shrugged an elegant shoulder and sent him to the morgue.
Very well. If you insist on drinking swill, allow me to make it a bit easier for you to acquire. He'd slipped Mick a business card. This is my contact at the Los Angeles County morgue - his name's Guillermo. Tell him I sent you - he'll treat you right, if he knows what's good for him.
He'd been free of Coraline for over two years, and had never felt so trapped. Guilt had twined silver chains around his soul and tightened with every painful thought of his sire and wife. Useless for him to tell himself there was no other way it could have ended - it didn't change the fact Coraline was dead and he was responsible. Every case he solved, every human he helped did little to assuage the overwhelming regret he carried every day.
The only time that regret eased was in the presence of a little blond girl who thought him her guardian angel. He should let her forget him, slip to the fringes of her life, but the thought of not seeing those blue eyes light up at the sight of him made his heart clutch. She was the reason he tried to be a better man, the reason he tried to rise above what he was. He wasn't ready to let her go.
Giving her a gift, a tangible reminder that he existed was dangerous and foolish, but Mick hadn't been able to resist. He'd been rewarded with a hug, Beth standing tiptoe on a chair so she could reach him. The angel paled in comparison to the gift she gave him in return - her acceptance, something Mick couldn't even give himself.
He cast one last glance at the darkened window where Beth slept as he slid behind the Mercedes' wheel. There would be time enough to ease himself out of the little girl's life.
He would enjoy this fleeting piece of her Christmas.
December 25, 2007 - 8:58 a.m.
"Merry Christmas, Dad." Bouquet of daisies on one hand, Beth knelt and brushed the leaves off her father's headstone with the other. "I'm sorry I haven't been by to visit for awhile. I've been really busy lately, and I can't stay long. Josh will be here soon to pick me up."
After she'd turned down his offer to accompany her, Josh had dropped her off at the cemetery's gates with promises to return in an half-hour. Normally, she would have enjoyed Josh's company, but today she needed to be alone with her father and her thoughts.
She ran her fingers over her father's name - Daniel Raymond Turner. The father she'd only met through old photographs and her mother's stories, but had always loved. She came often to this peaceful place when the burdens of her heart were too much to share with anyone else. The situation she found herself in recently was something she could hardly put into words, let alone tell to anyone else. Her mother, her boss and her friends might understand being torn between two men, but there was no way any of them would be able to comprehend one of those men being undead.
"Mom's doing well - she's really happy in Sacramento. I miss her a lot, but that job offer was once in a lifetime. She couldn't pass it up. She misses you still." She laid the daisies on the headstone and rested her hands in her lap.
"Remember me telling you about Josh, that I thought he was the one? Well...I'm not so sure anymore. I still love him, but..." Now one hand reached up and toyed with the strands of hair that had escaped her loose bun. "I ran into this P.I. at a crime scene a few months ago." Beth scrunched up her face. "I know what you're thinking, Dad - but I was careful. I always am. Back to the P.I. Don't laugh - but he's a vampire."
A rustle to her left brought her to her feet, her head whipping towards the sound. She saw nothing but trees and markers honoring the dead. "Getting paranoid in my old age," she muttered. Mick had warned her of the need to keep his existence a secret and meeting his scary friend Josef had only cemented that. The last thing she needed was for the cemetery's caretaker or another visitor finding out there really was such a thing as vampires.
"His name's Mick St. John. I can't figure him out. Sometimes I catch him watching me and I get the sense he wishes something bad would happen so he can save me from it. I have the oddest feeling about him, like he's always been there for me. The first time I saw him, it was like I'd always known him and I felt instantly safe with him. Since I was kidnapped, there's always been an empty space inside me and he fits it perfectly." Beth blushed and stammered over her next words.
"I...I kissed him, Dad. I know it was wrong and I shouldn't have done it, but...I couldn't help it. I liked it...a lot." Beth's cheeks burned hotter. "He liked it, too - at least I think he liked it and that's why I'm here." Beth sucked in a breath and rubbed absent fingers over the twin scars on her left arm, ignoring the heat that swept through her as she recalled the feel of Mick's lips against her skin as he took her blood. "Dad, I'm starting to care about Mick, and it scares me. I know how unfair this is to Josh and I hate that I'm hurting him. He's a good and decent man, and doesn't deserve this. But I can't deny this...connection I have with Mick. I've seen what he thinks is the worst of himself, and he thinks I should be afraid of him. Maybe I should be." She bowed her head and remembered Mick's shame at her discovering his secret, at her foolishness in bursting into the home of a wounded vampire. If Mick's control had been any less...
She shivered as a breeze stirred the leaves on the surrounding trees, and scanned the cemetery once more. She could have sworn she saw something blur to her left, but closer scrutiny revealed nothing. Shrugging, she turned her attention back to engraved granite at her feet. She was hopeful death made fathers more understanding of their daughters' bad choices, but she still wasn't about to tell her father about her adventures in seduction while high on a drug that contained vampire blood. "I guess I just don't know what to do, Dad. If Mick would talk to me, tell me what's going on inside his head, I could figure it out, but he's so evasive. I think he's trying to protect me, but I just want him to be honest with me. What could be worse than knowing he's a vampire?"
The purr of a car engine behind her had Beth sighing and kneeling once more before her father's grave. Maybe Daniel Turner couldn't answer her, but she believe in her heart he had heard every word - and had understood. "Josh is back. I have to go." She brushed away unbidden tears, bent and pressed a kiss to the headstone. "I love you, Dad."
From behind a mausoleum, Mick watched Beth get to her feet and make her way to Josh's waiting car, saw the assistant D.A. climb out of the driver's side and envelope the blond in a comforting hug. Fists clenched and unclenched at the flash of jealousy burning in his gut - he had no right.
Beth didn't belong to him, but it didn't make it any easier watching another man put his hands on her.
Josef had told Mick in no uncertain terms he should have stayed on the fringes of Beth's life, but Mick couldn't fight the compulsion to make himself known to Beth, to be more than a shadow she caught out of the corner of her eye. That night at the fountain, he'd let Beth see him, but not because he'd been careless, like Josef believed. Mick had let himself be seen because the need to let Beth know he existed had overwhelmed his common sense.
He hadn't, however, intended for Beth to see so much of him.
He grimaced at the memory of Beth seeing the vampire, but to his amazement she hadn't been afraid. She'd come back the next day, full of questions he didn't want to answer - but she had come back. She'd killed for him, given her blood to save him when he was dying.
Her strength humbled him.
Mick hadn't meant to eavesdrop on what turned out to be a very intimate conversation between Beth and her dead father, but when she'd mentioned his name, no power on heaven, earth or hell could have pulled him away. Beth was torn, conflicted - but she cared for him.
That knowledge warmed and thrilled him - and terrified him beyond belief.
Mick waited until Josh's car had pulled through the cemetery's gates before heading to his own. As he walked through the land of the dead, he did something he hadn't done on Christmas since he'd been Turned.
He smiled.
December 25, 2010 - 6:13 p.m.
"Merry Christmas, sleepyhead."
Mick's lids slid open at the light tapping on the top of his freezer. He yawned and returned Beth's smile as she beamed down at him through the frosty glass. She stepped back as he pushed the lid of the freezer open and sat up with a stretch. "What time is it?"
Beth leaned down and planted a kiss on his cold lips, then wiped her lipstick off his mouth with her thumb. "After six."
Mick let his gaze wander over Beth, a lop-sided grin spreading over his face. She was already dressed for Josef's party, red velvet dress clinging to her in all the right places, slender legs showcased by icepick heels. "You look good. Damn good."
"Sweet talker." Beth wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue. "You need to get up and get going. Josef said his driver would be here at seven, after he picks up Ruth."
"It won't take me long to shower and dress." Mick knocked the ice loose from his hair as Beth turned towards the mirror to check for smudges. She gave his lean nakedness an appreciative eye as he climbed out of the freezer, then blushed when his grin flashed in the mirror.
"How was your day?" he asked, wrapping a towel around his hips.
"It was good. I talked to Mom, dropped in on Ben's get-together for the staff at his place, then I went to see Dad and Josh." Sadness flitted over Beth's face. "I told Josh I missed him, but that I was happy now. I think he'd be glad to know that."
Mick nodded and pulled Beth into his arms. When she'd lost Josh, Mick had almost lost her and he was grateful every day she'd found it within her to forgive him. She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder.
"Life is so fleeting. One minute you're here, the next you're gone." She lifted her head, her face serious. "I don't want to be gone like that, Mick."
Mick stiffened. "I don't want to have this conversation today. It's Christmas, Beth. Let's enjoy what we have right now."
Bitter words bubbled to the surface, but Beth bit them back. She didn't want to fight with Mick today of all days, but her mortality pushed at her harder every day. She was going to be thirty soon, the same age Mick had been when he'd been Turned. She didn't consider herself a vain woman, but the thought of being aged and wrinkled next to Mick's youthful good looks galled her. Besides, she didn't want to leave him - ever. If he Turned her, they could have eternity together, but Mick was stubborn to the point of being irrational when it came to her humanity.
Life is precious because it ends, Beth. You shouldn't be so quick to want to throw it away.
Painting determined cheerfulness on her features, Beth gave Mick's terry-covered ass a squeeze before heading for the gray door. "Go shower," she called over her shoulder. "I'll wait downstairs for Josef's driver."
Mick made quick work of the shower, scraped a razor over his face and headed for the bedroom. As he fumbled in the top bureau drawer for socks, his fingers bumped against the small velvet box he'd placed there. He pulled out the black square and, sitting on the edge of the bed, flipped it open. The diamond solitaire nestled inside flashed as it caught the light. Josef's party forgotten for the moment, he stared at the box's contents.
He'd offered the ring to Beth twice, along with his promise to love her for the rest of her life. Twice, she'd turned him down. She wanted eternity with him, and he couldn't bring himself to Turn her.
Nothing would make me happier than to marry you, Mick...but until you can promise me forever, I can't do it. I don't want to watch myself grow old through your eyes and I can't bear the thought of death separating us someday. I love you more than my life, and I'd give it up in a heartbeat to be yours forever. If you can't give me that, I can't and won't marry you.
I told you once that being a vampire isn't all you are. Being human isn't all I am. When you love me enough to realize that, I'll accept your proposal.
As the ring cast its glitter over the room, Beth's word came back to haunt Mick.
I don't want to be gone like that, Mick.
He'd spent so many Christmases watching the ones he loved from the shadows, seeing them grow old and die. Beth had offered him the chance to never be alone again, to have an eternity of Christmases with someone who loved him enough to give up her life to make that happen.
Was she right? Had her humanity become more important than his love for her? And now that he'd finally woken up to that fact, was it too late to change things?
He had to try.
Snapping the box shut, he tossed it on the bed and dressed quickly, pulling on trousers and throwing on a dress shirt. Impatient to get downstairs to Beth, he looped his tie around his neck before shrugging into his suit jacket, stuffing the ring in the pocket while shoving his feet into loafers. He hit the stairs with a light heart, taking them two at a time as his fingers made quick work of his shirt buttons.
"That was quick," Beth remarked, then sighed at the strip of red silk hanging about his neck. She stepped forward and began to knot his tie until Mick reached up and stilled her hands.
"Beth." Mick's voice vibrated with emotion, and Beth's eyes snapped to his face. The fierce love she saw there took her breath away. Tears welled when he let go of her hands to reach in his pocket for the now-familiar black box. He dropped to one knee. "Marry me."
"Mick, we've talked about this. You know how I feel--"
"Let me finish." Mick plowed over Beth's objections as he plucked the ring from its velvet home. "I've spent more years than I care to count on the outside of love looking in. I can't go back to living that way." He slid the ring on her finger, and brushed his lips over the back of her hand. "I was so concerned with protecting your humanity that I didn't listen when you told me you were willing to lose it to be with me." He got to his feet and wiped away Beth's tears with his thumb. "I can't go back to Christmas in the shadows, and now I know I don't have to. Marry me, Beth. Join my world, be my wife, and I swear to you I'll be the best husband I can for as long as we're given."
Beth's arms stole around his neck as she pressed her lips to his. "If you're willing to give me forever, then I'll marry you, Mick St. John - and you'll never be alone again."
The vampire who had spent a wealth of his life skulking in the shadows embraced the one who had given him the best Christmas gift he'd ever received.
Her love for eternity.
). There's something about Christmas, and all the connotations for family and memory, that makes it so poignant for Mick and I love how you show us that through the years. I especially loved the early years as seen through Ruth's eyes. There's just so much normality there - and that, I think, is Mick's great loss. He lost all reference to what his life had been - and as a consequence, the future he had imagined for himself.
