WMC Fic: All I want for Christmas
Title: All I want for Christmas
Author: Libmix
Rating: PG
Pairing: Cindy/Lindsay
Beta: The fantabulous Miss widget007
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm just borrowing the characters for a little while.
Summary: Even the unexpected can happen at Christmas time.
AN: This is written for angelfire_08 who has been a great help to me this year. Thank you for listening and being there for me to bounce my WMC ideas off of. Oh and for also agreeing to beta outside of your fandom a couple of times *Hugs*
*****
When you thought about how you'd be spending Christmas day, the situation you currently find yourself in was admittedly way down on the list. Nate is telling yet another bad cracker joke whilst Derek places a bright yellow paper hat on your head. Jill smirks at you from her seat across the table and you barely hold back the urge to use your long legs to kick her. Claire would never forgive you for setting a bad example to the kids.
The phone rings and you pray to any and all deities listening as the boys' race from the room. Leaning forward you snatch Jill's phone from her hand fully intending to delete the picture you know she's taken. A message appears with the subject RE: Lindsay from a number you don't recognise and you realise you're too late.
Sighing in defeat, you throw the device back to the blonde. She smirks again as she reads the reply before suddenly bolting from the room. You lean forward just enough to see her all but snatching the phone from an irritated Claire and start talking excitedly into the receiver.
Curiosity piqued, you down the last of your drink and move towards the door. Jill makes eye contact and you raise an eyebrow in silent question. A slender finger is raised in your direction indicating for you to wait a moment and she turns her face more fully into the phone.
"Yeah she's here, do you wanna... Okay, I'll pass the message on... Bye."
As the words are spoken you know instantly who was on the other end. You suddenly feel like you're in a freefall of emotion, sadness and anger battling for control. Your eyes must have given something away. Jill tries to explain but all you hear is "something came up", transporting you instantly to another time where you were the one using that phrase.
You turn and head back to the lounge, slumping heavily into one of the chairs. A glass being placed in your hand stops you from travelling too far down the dark road you were heading. You look up to find Ed placing a bottle of scotch between the two of you. You smile gratefully before downing the liquid, savouring the burning sensation as it moves down your throat.
Tonight you will drink to forget.
**********
Light streaming through a gap in the curtains wakes you far too early. Momentarily, you forget where you are and panic driven, sit bolt upright. Your head and stomach protest at the sharpness of your movements as vague memories begin to take shape behind your tightly closed eyelids.
Claire's. You must still be at Claire's. Your eyelids co-operate just enough to take in your surroundings. Pictures of Ed and the boys adorn one shelf, people you assume are other family members another and on the nightstand a picture of "The Club". The four of you are smiling at the camera and it makes you remember just how much you miss seeing one particular smile.
The one smile that would cause your heart to race and leave you feeling weak. The one smile that would have you cracking lame jokes just to see it. The one smile that haunts your dreams. The one smile you're not sure you'll ever see again.
As if sensing the darkening mood, your phone suddenly vibrates loudly from its place on the nightstand. Your head once again screams in protest and you find yourself torn between throwing said phone across the room and reading the new message.
Slowly you lean forwards to retrieve the offending item. You flip it open and your heart stops before beating again in double time. The message contains only two words yet they have you yearning to hear them spoken.
If asked about it later, you'll say you must have still been drunk because what other reason could there be for you hitting the call button?
Her voice is as soft and smooth as you remember and for a moment you find yourself unable to speak. She states that she's going to hang up and in a panic you blurt out the first thing you can think of.
"Merry Christmas!"
You hear a gentle laugh in your ear and briefly wonder if it's your inner voice taunting you.
"Merry Christmas to you too, Lindsay."
You've always loved the way she says your name and smile in unconscious response.
"I'm sorry about yesterday." She starts but you cut her off before she can explain further. She's talking to you now and that's what counts.
"It's fine really." You hope she doesn't notice the shake in your voice. "How are you?"
The line goes quiet but you can hear her breathing softly at the other end. You can picture the look on her face as she tries to carefully choose her words.
"I'm... good. Thanks for asking." You notice the slight hesitation but you're still not fully alert and she takes advantage by continuing. "How about you? Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?"
The question blindsides you, a crystal clear image of the one thing you wanted but couldn't have forming clearly in your mind. No. No, you didn't get what you wanted. What you needed. Tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes and you feel yourself starting to break.
You've been quiet too long and the worried tone in which your name is called brings you back from the brink. You decide to allow yourself the freedom to be honest, just his once.
"I miss you."
It comes out in barely a whisper and the silence that follows finally triggers the tears that have been threatening.
So much more needs to be said but the moment is ruined by the sound of sirens. You're unsure whether they're at your end or hers until she shouts a hurried "I'm sorry, I have to go" and the line goes dead.
You phone slips from your fingers but you don't care. The tears are flowing freely now and you mentally berate yourself for allowing this to happen; for allowing yourself to say what you were truly feeling.
You should go home but the bed looks so much more inviting. Claire will look after you, she'll know what to do and say, she always does. You listen to the sounds of the house. Everyone seems to be up if the noise from downstairs is anything to go by. There's something else though, another sound getting louder and louder.
Sirens.
Maybe... No. It's just a coincidence and your drink-addled brain conspiring against you. The doorbell rings and though you're exhausted your curiosity wins through. Stepping up to the window you tentatively draw back the curtain, blinking rapidly at the blinding sunlight.
There on the road you spot a small red car and your heart stops beating once again. Could she really be here? Your question is answered as excited child like squeals of "Cindy, Cindy!" reach your ears.
Maybe you're still asleep and this is all a dream? Maybe the vestiges of alcohol still in your body playing tricks with you? You find yourself on the landing before you can question yourself further, your body seemingly having other ideas. You reach the bottom of the stairs and pause, allowing your still sore head to catch up. Slowly you turn towards the kitchen and are grateful you're still holding onto the banister as you feel your legs begin to give way.
Your focus narrows on red hair as long and fiery as you remembered. You close your eyes to regain some semblance of balance, only to be knocked back again when you open them to see brown eyes as deep as your own staring back at you. Time has no meaning as she moves towards you. It's as though nothing and no one else exists.
Slowly, just in case this is a dream, you raise your hand to cup her cheek. As she leans into the contact you allow your tears to fall again. She's here, she's really here. Her hands move to your waist and then close around you in a hug. You pull her close, her head fitting neatly just under your chin, and you breath in the scent of her shampoo and something else that is uniquely her.
Her grip tightens and you feel dampness slowly soaking through your shirt to your skin. God, you've missed her, and you tell her so again. She sniffles quietly and slowly loosens her grip, raising watery eyes to yours.
"I've missed you too." She whispers. "I just didn't know..."
You raise a finger to her lips, cutting off the explanation you know can wait.
"Earlier you asked me if I got everything I wanted for Christmas. Ask me again."
She crinkles her nose in confusion and you can't help but smile at how adorable she looks. Smiling, she releases her hold on you and takes a step back.
"So... did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?"
She smiles at you. The one smile that causes your heart to race and leaves you feeling weak. The one smile that has haunted your dreams since she left. The one smile you were sure you'd never see again.
Taking a slender hand in yours, you raise it to your lips and place a gentle kiss on pale fingers.
"All I want for Christmas... is you."
Author: Libmix
Rating: PG
Pairing: Cindy/Lindsay
Beta: The fantabulous Miss widget007
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm just borrowing the characters for a little while.
Summary: Even the unexpected can happen at Christmas time.
AN: This is written for angelfire_08 who has been a great help to me this year. Thank you for listening and being there for me to bounce my WMC ideas off of. Oh and for also agreeing to beta outside of your fandom a couple of times *Hugs*
*****
When you thought about how you'd be spending Christmas day, the situation you currently find yourself in was admittedly way down on the list. Nate is telling yet another bad cracker joke whilst Derek places a bright yellow paper hat on your head. Jill smirks at you from her seat across the table and you barely hold back the urge to use your long legs to kick her. Claire would never forgive you for setting a bad example to the kids.
The phone rings and you pray to any and all deities listening as the boys' race from the room. Leaning forward you snatch Jill's phone from her hand fully intending to delete the picture you know she's taken. A message appears with the subject RE: Lindsay from a number you don't recognise and you realise you're too late.
Sighing in defeat, you throw the device back to the blonde. She smirks again as she reads the reply before suddenly bolting from the room. You lean forward just enough to see her all but snatching the phone from an irritated Claire and start talking excitedly into the receiver.
Curiosity piqued, you down the last of your drink and move towards the door. Jill makes eye contact and you raise an eyebrow in silent question. A slender finger is raised in your direction indicating for you to wait a moment and she turns her face more fully into the phone.
"Yeah she's here, do you wanna... Okay, I'll pass the message on... Bye."
As the words are spoken you know instantly who was on the other end. You suddenly feel like you're in a freefall of emotion, sadness and anger battling for control. Your eyes must have given something away. Jill tries to explain but all you hear is "something came up", transporting you instantly to another time where you were the one using that phrase.
You turn and head back to the lounge, slumping heavily into one of the chairs. A glass being placed in your hand stops you from travelling too far down the dark road you were heading. You look up to find Ed placing a bottle of scotch between the two of you. You smile gratefully before downing the liquid, savouring the burning sensation as it moves down your throat.
Tonight you will drink to forget.
**********
Light streaming through a gap in the curtains wakes you far too early. Momentarily, you forget where you are and panic driven, sit bolt upright. Your head and stomach protest at the sharpness of your movements as vague memories begin to take shape behind your tightly closed eyelids.
Claire's. You must still be at Claire's. Your eyelids co-operate just enough to take in your surroundings. Pictures of Ed and the boys adorn one shelf, people you assume are other family members another and on the nightstand a picture of "The Club". The four of you are smiling at the camera and it makes you remember just how much you miss seeing one particular smile.
The one smile that would cause your heart to race and leave you feeling weak. The one smile that would have you cracking lame jokes just to see it. The one smile that haunts your dreams. The one smile you're not sure you'll ever see again.
As if sensing the darkening mood, your phone suddenly vibrates loudly from its place on the nightstand. Your head once again screams in protest and you find yourself torn between throwing said phone across the room and reading the new message.
Slowly you lean forwards to retrieve the offending item. You flip it open and your heart stops before beating again in double time. The message contains only two words yet they have you yearning to hear them spoken.
If asked about it later, you'll say you must have still been drunk because what other reason could there be for you hitting the call button?
Her voice is as soft and smooth as you remember and for a moment you find yourself unable to speak. She states that she's going to hang up and in a panic you blurt out the first thing you can think of.
"Merry Christmas!"
You hear a gentle laugh in your ear and briefly wonder if it's your inner voice taunting you.
"Merry Christmas to you too, Lindsay."
You've always loved the way she says your name and smile in unconscious response.
"I'm sorry about yesterday." She starts but you cut her off before she can explain further. She's talking to you now and that's what counts.
"It's fine really." You hope she doesn't notice the shake in your voice. "How are you?"
The line goes quiet but you can hear her breathing softly at the other end. You can picture the look on her face as she tries to carefully choose her words.
"I'm... good. Thanks for asking." You notice the slight hesitation but you're still not fully alert and she takes advantage by continuing. "How about you? Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?"
The question blindsides you, a crystal clear image of the one thing you wanted but couldn't have forming clearly in your mind. No. No, you didn't get what you wanted. What you needed. Tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes and you feel yourself starting to break.
You've been quiet too long and the worried tone in which your name is called brings you back from the brink. You decide to allow yourself the freedom to be honest, just his once.
"I miss you."
It comes out in barely a whisper and the silence that follows finally triggers the tears that have been threatening.
So much more needs to be said but the moment is ruined by the sound of sirens. You're unsure whether they're at your end or hers until she shouts a hurried "I'm sorry, I have to go" and the line goes dead.
You phone slips from your fingers but you don't care. The tears are flowing freely now and you mentally berate yourself for allowing this to happen; for allowing yourself to say what you were truly feeling.
You should go home but the bed looks so much more inviting. Claire will look after you, she'll know what to do and say, she always does. You listen to the sounds of the house. Everyone seems to be up if the noise from downstairs is anything to go by. There's something else though, another sound getting louder and louder.
Sirens.
Maybe... No. It's just a coincidence and your drink-addled brain conspiring against you. The doorbell rings and though you're exhausted your curiosity wins through. Stepping up to the window you tentatively draw back the curtain, blinking rapidly at the blinding sunlight.
There on the road you spot a small red car and your heart stops beating once again. Could she really be here? Your question is answered as excited child like squeals of "Cindy, Cindy!" reach your ears.
Maybe you're still asleep and this is all a dream? Maybe the vestiges of alcohol still in your body playing tricks with you? You find yourself on the landing before you can question yourself further, your body seemingly having other ideas. You reach the bottom of the stairs and pause, allowing your still sore head to catch up. Slowly you turn towards the kitchen and are grateful you're still holding onto the banister as you feel your legs begin to give way.
Your focus narrows on red hair as long and fiery as you remembered. You close your eyes to regain some semblance of balance, only to be knocked back again when you open them to see brown eyes as deep as your own staring back at you. Time has no meaning as she moves towards you. It's as though nothing and no one else exists.
Slowly, just in case this is a dream, you raise your hand to cup her cheek. As she leans into the contact you allow your tears to fall again. She's here, she's really here. Her hands move to your waist and then close around you in a hug. You pull her close, her head fitting neatly just under your chin, and you breath in the scent of her shampoo and something else that is uniquely her.
Her grip tightens and you feel dampness slowly soaking through your shirt to your skin. God, you've missed her, and you tell her so again. She sniffles quietly and slowly loosens her grip, raising watery eyes to yours.
"I've missed you too." She whispers. "I just didn't know..."
You raise a finger to her lips, cutting off the explanation you know can wait.
"Earlier you asked me if I got everything I wanted for Christmas. Ask me again."
She crinkles her nose in confusion and you can't help but smile at how adorable she looks. Smiling, she releases her hold on you and takes a step back.
"So... did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?"
She smiles at you. The one smile that causes your heart to race and leaves you feeling weak. The one smile that has haunted your dreams since she left. The one smile you were sure you'd never see again.
Taking a slender hand in yours, you raise it to your lips and place a gentle kiss on pale fingers.
"All I want for Christmas... is you."