by
Aimee
(aimeed@earthlink.net)
"I've never seen so many presents in all my life!" exclaimed Grace.
C.C. sighed dreamily. "I know. It's just like being a kid again, only fun."
Her husband wrapped his arms around her from behind. "And I get to spend this Christmas showing my Grinch wife how humans do the holidays. Think you could eighty-six the diet and drink some eggnog if I promise I made it special for you?"
"Okay," C.C. replied, laughing.
"You look so gorgeous, C.C.," sighed Maggie. "I can't believe you lost all that weight so fast."
"I can," said Niles, bringing over a tray of the eggnog. "I don't think she's eaten a solid meal since Morgan was born. Without her around, I don't know who Ben & Jerry do for fun."
"Not me," said C.C.
"You know," said Brighton, looking up from his Nintendo Gameboy for the first time in several days, "That was a really creative idea to have two trees for the two families."
"Thanks," said C.C. "It was really clever of you to cut off the lower branches so we could fit more presents underneath." Finally, the eighteen-year-old boy and the Broadway producer of an undisclosed age had found a point of contact: making this Christmas the most present-heavy in Sheffield history.
It was a week before Christmas. Hanukkah had started days ago, but it barely made a dent in the pile of presents in the Sheffield living room and fully gift-wrapped department store.
C.C. turned to Niles. "Is Morgan still asleep?"
"No. When I last saw her, she was practicing the turn-a-boy-into-a-toad spell."
"I thought you had to be way more than a month old to learn that one," said Brighton.
"I want her to see the tree."
"So she can do what, C.C., pull off all the bows and stick her tongue into a light socket?" Niles shook his head.
"Shut up, Niles. Go shake your presents. Wait -- did I get you any presents?"
"I got mine last spring," he answered, kissing her neck.
Brighton tried to resist, but he couldn't help himself. "And every night since then, or at least it sounds like it from my room." C.C. and Niles glared. In point of fact, waiting for C.C. to recover from Morgan's birth was driving them both insane.
Fran burst in, loaded down with shopping bags. "Oy, you should see the crowds! And what is this, Hanukkah and Christmas with no snow? How are we supposed to get into the mood?"
"Well considering that both Hanukkah and Christmas got their start in a Middle Eastern desert, think of the heat as authentic," suggested C.C. The only fluffy white stuff she wanted to see was the whipped cream on her pumpkin pie at Christmas dinner, so a California Christmas suited her just fine.
"Gee, thank you, Mrs. Claus. Meanwhile, here we have the bipolar Christmas display." Fran surveyed C.C.'s tree, which was covered in twinkling white lights, pearls, white lace, and ivory velvet, and her own brightly colored creation, which looked tie-dyed and very Jewish in the choice of ornaments. "How long ago did the decorators leave?"
Niles glared at C.C. "I did it myself," she protested. "I swear. Gracie, you saw."
"It's true," said Gracie. "She even got up on the footstool and put the star up there."
"Yeah, the decorators just dropped off all the stuff," Brighton contributed.
"And took away your presents with them," C.C. retorted.
Niles was outraged. "You hired decorators to design our tree?"
"Yeah," his wife shot back. "So it wouldn't look like that!" She pointed at Fran's "Hanukkah tree" with its tie-dyed streamers and little gold Stars of David hanging all over it. "If this is the Bipolar Christmas display, that thing needs some serious tranquilizers."
Niles sighed. "Not ready for the holiday season are you. You have much still to learn, young Jedi."
C.C. sighed. "At least I figured out that the decorators weren't actually supposed to put the stuff on the tree."
"Did you at least play music?"
"Of course. I reviewed the program for our Christmas concert in L.A."
The kids looked at each other in disbelief.
C.C. sprawled out on the couch. Niles dropped down beside her. "I guess we're lucky she's not making it a traditional Babcock Christmas complete with drunken orgies and child sacrifice."
"Don't forget the butler-beating competition," she reminded him
"So what did your family do on Christmas?" Fran asked C.C.
"I just told you," said Niles and C.C. at the same time.
C.C. stuck her tongue out at him. "DD and I went to church with Daddy on Christmas Eve and opened our presents from him after church. Noel stayed with Mummy for her big Christmas Eve party. After Mummy's party was over, Daddy's driver took us home to Mummy for Christmas morning and took Noel to Daddy's."
"What did you get?" Brighton asked.
"The usual. Clothes, jewelry, toys, ponies. Daddy always got DD and I each a doll from FAO Schwartz. Mine are all upstairs in a box waiting for Morgan to be old enough for them. That is, the ones I didn't smash."
"There are more?" groaned Fran. There were already so many dolls and stuffed animals in the nursery that there was barely room for the three babies.
"I'm so glad we had Morgan before Christmas," C.C. continued. "It's the first time in years I've gotten a doll to play with, and I get a live one! It's so exciting."
Niles snorted. "That's because you don't do any of the dirty work."
"Nanny Fine and I wanted a part-time nanny, but you and Maxwell wouldn't let us. Don't come crying to me about diaper changing."
Niles looked imploringly at Fran. "Hey, I gotta side with Mommy Dearest over there," Fran told him. "We bore them for nine months. It's all over for us but the cuddling."
Just then, the sound of crying came from the baby monitor. Fran and C.C. nearly knocked each other over to get upstairs.
When they weren't back downstairs with the kids a few minutes later, Niles thought he'd better go check on them. He paused in the doorway when he heard C.C. say, "This isn't so bad. Okay, now which end is up?"
"I hope you're talking about the diaper and not the baby," he said.
"She's talking about the bottle of wet naps," Fran told him.
C.C. sat in the dark by the Christmas trees holding Morgan in her arms.
Niles entered silently, a cup of cocoa in each hand and a bottle sticking out of his jacket pocket.
The lights from the tree reflected off two golden heads when C.C. bent over her infant daughter. "See this pretty box? It's all for you. So's this one. And this, and this -- oops, that's for your daddy. He's such a worthless servant, but he does change you when you've got an icky diaper, so I got him a present or two, but I bought them on sale. Don't tell, but I only used him for his body so I could get a little Christmas doll baby to play with. I knew you were there, you reek of Tilex."
Niles laughed and sat down on the floor beside her. "You look like an angel," he murmured. "Of course, Satan was an angel at one time. Here, give me Morgan."
"No, let me feed her. You always get to because I'm in the office all day." C.C. took the bottle from him. "Niles, what's in here?"
"I put a little cocoa in her formula. Get her in the holiday mood."
"Mmm, and did you bring the mommy any?"
He handed her a mug. "When are you not in the mood?"
C.C. took a drink and then repositioned herself against the sofa so that she could feed Morgan more easily. "Every time I remember what it was like to be in labor. She's so little. You don't think I'll break her, do you?"
"Honey, if sacrificing her dear little soul to Satan the night of her birth didn't hurt her, dinner isn't going to."
"That's a relief. I was worried there for a second."
Niles put his arm around her. "C.C., I'm honestly surprised by what a good mother you've turned out to be. You're just amazing."
"Thanks. Now, about this Christmas thing. What am I missing?"
"Well, how do you feel right now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your feelings. You, me, Morgan, the tree, the cocoa, what's it all mean to you?"
C.C. thought a moment. "Well, it's like the culmination of the strangest year of my life. Last year on Christmas Eve, Max and Grace and I got stuck in that car, you know, and Grace told me then that I missed you, and I denied it, even when I thought I was going to die and all I could think about was never seeing you again. I almost blurted it out right then and there. Then that passed and in the cold light of day I couldn't face it. I started dating Colin, then he broke up with me, and you proposed, I tortured you, then, well, you know what happened next. Then we were all so wrapped up in Nanny Fine's pregnancy and then you proposed again and we got married because I was yakking my brains out, and then we got married again because we wanted the big wedding, and then Morgan was born and I thought I was going to die, and here we are."
"Mm-hmm. What's your tummy feel like?"
"Full, I ate too much."
"Not that, silly, I was speaking metaphorically."
"Oh." C.C. thought a moment. "Swirly."
"Swirly?"
"Yes, kind of warm and content. So happy it's sad."
Niles smiled. "That's Christmas, that feeling like it's so good you're not even sure you can stand it."
"Oh. I thought that was, well, something we shouldn't be talking about in front of Morgan."
Niles laughed. "How long did the doctor say it would be before we could, well, you know."
C.C. covered Morgan's ears. "How about tomorrow night? Then it'll be Max and Fran's turn to keep the baby monitor at night." She wrinkled her nose. "God, we've gotten so domesticated. Of course, in your profession that's a good thing.""
Niles took Morgan and laid her on the sofa. He put cushions around her so she couldn't roll off, then he took C.C. into his arms and kissed her deeply.
C.C. tilted her head back and gave a low, soft moan. She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him close. But when Niles' hand slid to the buttons on her sweater, she pushed his fingers away. "Not now, love, Morgan's here. We can't do that in front of her."
"Tomorrow," he promised her.
"Tomorrow," she agreed.
C.C. looked herself over in the mirror. She'd gone out and bought a new negligee for the occasion. It was bright red, nearly transparent, with thin straps and an empire waist. It had looked beautiful in the store, but now she was having second thoughts. Perhaps she should tell Niles the doctor had forbidden it, so she could have more time to lose weight.
C.C. turned a profile, sucked in her stomach, and placed her hand over it. She smiled to herself. Not perfect, but pretty damn good for a woman only a month out of childbirth. And hey, if Niles had seen what she looked like two years and about thirty pounds ago and still married her, five extra pounds wouldn't kill the passion. She was still twenty-five pounds on the good side.
Besides, if she didn't get some soon, she was going to have a nervous breakdown.
C.C. threw the matching red satin robe around her and knotted the belt. She sat down at her dressing table and touched a mascara wand lightly to her lashes. She added a little clear lips gloss. Not much, because it was bad for the complexion to wear makeup to bed, but just a little added insurance.
She had just taken up her silver pin box when she heard the door open.
"Here, let me," Niles said. He unpinned her hair from its severe French twist and let the silky strands spill out over his fingers. He dropped the pins into the velvet interior of the box and ran a silver brush through her hair in quick, strong strokes. "You know, the mascara and lip gloss weren't necessary. You've never been anything other than hideously old and ugly to me, especially during the full moon when you've got all that extra body hair."
C.C. was ready for him. "Shows what you know, Lurch. Tonight's the full moon and no werewolves in sight. See?" C.C. drew back her gown to show him her long, smooth, elegant legs.
Niles sounded slightly strangled. "I'm done brushing your hair. Want me to do your back next?"
C.C. rose and turned to face him. "That's not what I want you to do."
"What, then?" he whispered, putting his hand at her waist and drawing her close.
"Me." C.C. slid her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, and around his neck. She tunneled her fingers through his thick hair and then reached her left hand down to unbutton his jacket, all the while kissing him deeply. Familiar and yet always new, that warm, urgent feeling started to spread throughout her body.
Niles shrugged off his jacket and let it drop to the floor. C.C. went to work on his tie, which she then draped around her own neck. "Might need it later," she teased.
"If you're very naughty, please God," he answered.
C.C. moaned when she felt his lips on her throat. Her fingers fumbled as she tried unsuccessfully to unbutton his shirt.
Niles swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He set her down and straddled her and began to work at the knot holding her robe together. He tugged impatiently at it, and finally the robe dropped to the sides. He drew his breath in sharply.
The outline of her body could be seen through the transparent red gown. She'd remembered how much he loved her in red, although he loved her even better in nothing at all. Well, that was going to happen too.
"Merry Christmas, Niles," she said wickedly, loving the stunned, hungry look on his face.
"God, Babcock, you're the best present ever."
"Unwrap me," she suggested.
Niles unwrapped his present slowly and sensually and she unwrapped hers. Soon, she was gasping, unable to speak as she felt his hands and mouth everywhere and reciprocated eagerly.
"Niles," she whispered.
"Yes, wench?"
"Now . . . please . . . " C.C. pulled him close and wrapped her arms and legs around him as he went gladly into her embrace
Niles drifted off to sleep on a tide of contentment, only to wake a few minutes later when he heard a soft noise from his wife. He chuckled. The wench couldn't wait and had decided to go for round two herself, he thought drowsily, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
C.C. made a small, strangled sound and he realized she was really crying. He leaned over her and saw the tracks of tears coursing down her face.
"C.C., darling, what is it? Was it too soon? Are you okay?"
C.C. shook her head. "I'm okay, Niles. Go to sleep."
"Well, I can't, if you're crying. Tell me what's made you unhappy."
"It's not unhappy, it's happy. I just can't believe that I've got everything I've got, after all those years of nothing and no one."
"It's not true that you had nothing," he protested. "After all, you had twenty million dollars and the biggest vibrator collection in Manhattan."
C.C. burst out laughing. "And you had gossip, the Butler's Glee Club, and your feather duster."
"Especially the feather duster," he deadpanned.
C.C. wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. "That I didn't need to know."
"Come here," he said. She turned to face him and he gathered her into his arms. "I know how you feel. I'm afraid it'll all turn out to be a dream, too, that one day I'll wake up back in Manhattan alone with a long day of unrelieved dusting ahead of me, and with my luck, it would be a Sunday, so you wouldn't even come over to insult me."
C.C. hugged him. "I'm not going anywhere. If anyone tries to take this away, I'll kill them. Long, slow, torture, until they beg to die."
Niles chuckled at C.C.'s version of a declaration of love. "I'm not going anywhere either, after a threat like that."
"Good. Going is out, now coming, on the other hand," she murmured, "is something I suddenly can't get enough of. You man enough to handle me?"
Niles rolled over onto his back, dragging C.C. on top of him. "Try me, wench."
C.C. was more than happy to do so, and Niles passed the test with flying colors.
Late that night, or rather early that morning, the virile butler gathered a sweaty, satisfied blonde into his arms and she fell asleep on his chest with a naughty smile on her lovely face.
"Do you think we can go in to get them yet?" Max asked his wife impatiently at six o'clock on Christmas morning.
Fran glanced at the alarm clock on her bedside table. "Yeah. C.C. stopped screaming his name five minutes ago, which means they've passed the residual whimpering stage and are now well into the post-coital insults."
"Bitch." Niles licked her ear.
"Toilet duck." C.C. tilted her head back and kissed his neck. He wrapped his arms around her from behind as she relaxed back against his chest.
There came a knock on the door. C.C. reluctantly pulled away and drew the covers up to her neck. "Come in."
Fran and Maxwell poked their heads around the door. "Merry Christmas, you two," Fran said brightly. "Ready to open up presents?"
Niles peeked under the covers at his wife. "You mean there's more?" C.C. smirked. "I thought everybody else got the presents and I just got the old bag they came in"
"You are the present that came in the old bag, Niles," she retorted.
"Okay, leaving now," said Fran. "See you two downstairs."
"As soon as you two finish puberty and the hormones wear off," Max muttered.
C.C. started to swing her legs over the side of the bed, but Niles grabbed her and wrestled her back down, kissing her neck until she squirmed and giggled.
"Niles," she protested. "We need to get downstairs. Maybe Santa's been here."
"Who do you want more, Santa or me?"
"Umm, how long do I get to think about it?"
Niles held her wrists above her head and straddled her. "Time's up," he said, bending over to kiss her. "I love you."
Her blue eyes were luminous with desire. "I love you, too, Niles." He couldn't believe his ears. She almost never said "the words."
Niles eased off of her and got to his feet. C.C. gave a wail of outrage. "Niles, you tease!"
"Nympho."
They began to dress, each trying to admire the other without getting caught staring. It was a game they played often.
C.C. posed in a red wool sweater dress. "Niles, are you sure this dress isn't too short?"
"Honey, if it doesn't show your back hair, it's fine," he answered, but his admiring look told her a different story.
C.C. sat down at her dressing table to brush her hair. She liked it when he did it for her, but he was busy knotting his tie. She stopped mid-stroke when she saw what he was wearing. "Oh, God, Niles, please don't wear the musical 'Silent Night' tie. It's such a fashion don't."
"They didn't have one that played 'Silent Wife.'"
"Fine, I'll be silent next time we're having sex."
"Did I say silent? I meant witty, wonderful, with gorgeous legs."
"I guess you can wear the musical tie," she allowed grudgingly.
After he'd fastened his cufflinks and chosen a pair of shoes from his world famous collection of wingtips, and she'd put on enough makeup to be fully camera-ready, they left their suite together and walked downstairs with their arms around each other's waists.
C.C.'s eyes widened as she paused at the top of the staircase. The room was totally dark except for the lights on the trees and a few candles creating a soft ambient glow. Max was already starting to sort presents into piles as each of the children took a seat. Jonah and Eve were crawling around among the gifts while Morgan cooed and giggled from a high chair.
"Who did the food?" wondered Niles.
"That was our surprise to you," Grace called up. She gestured in the direction of a small buffet with orange juice, apple juice, coffee, tea, cinnamon rolls, scrambled eggs, and sausage. "I did the drinks, Michael did the rolls, Brighton did the eggs because it's the only thing he knows how to make, and Maggie did the sausages and they're gray because she put them in the microwave."
Niles descended the stairs to embrace Grace. "Mrs. Sheffield and I raised you well."
"Well, we figured you were being kept busy," Brighton said dryly.
"I'm married. I'm allowed."
C.C. already had Morgan in her arms. She was cooing soft words of love to the baby when she noticed that everyone had turned to look at her. "What?" she said defensively.
Max was the first to speak. "'Oh, Maxwell,'" he mimicked. "'I'm having horrible flashbacks to the auditions for Annie II.'"
"I remember that," said Grace. "That was when we were holding auditions for my school play at our house. You fended us off with a chair, Miss Babcock."
"Be glad she didn't have the whip," remarked Fran.
C.C. rolled her eyes. "But Morgan's -- well, she's just Morgan."
Brighton glanced at her suspiciously. "Miss Babcock, what's my name?"
"Brighton, damn it. Brighton, Maggie, Gracie, Jonah, Eve." C.C. pointed to each in turn.
"How'd she do that?" Brighton demanded as the rest of the room burst into spontaneous applause. He turned to Niles. "Have you been tutoring her?"
"No," answered C.C.. "My therapist in New York said it was a reaction formation. I hated children because my own maternal instincts were so completely wasted. Maybe now I have a baby of my own, I can handle other peoples'. Of course, I'm still not exactly Mother Goose. Am I, my darling?" she crooned to Morgan.
Niles came over to divest her of the baby. "Come on, Mother Love, cut the cord so we can eat and get with the presents."
No one ate very much because they were too eager to get to the present-opening stage of the proceedings.
First, they held a "teddy bear race" for the babies. Three massive teddy bears, waist high on most of the grown-ups, were set against one wall. The three babies were set on the floor to decide who got which one.
Jonah grabbed for the dark brown one with the blue bow tie right away. He knocked it over onto himself and had to be rescued by his laughing father.
Eve sat back and contemplated what to do. Instead of going for one of the bears, she began to pull bows off of presents. Fran hastily removed the packages from her grasp and turned her in the right direction.
Morgan appeared no less determined and decisive than C.C. would be. Though not yet coordinated enough to climb, she began to pat the fur of a tan-colored bear with a purple bow. "That's my girl," C.C. said proudly. "When you want something, just take it."
Niles rolled his eyes, then pointed and said, "She drooled on it. She's marked her territory."
"That makes the white one Eve's," said Fran. "Okay, let's get to the good part -- our presents! The rest of theirs can wait. It's not like they care."
Niles and Max had already seized the babies and confined them in a playpen.
"Oh -- were we supposed to wait? Never mind," Brighton said as he saw Fran's glare. "It was only socks, Fran."
For quite a while, the Sheffield living room became hedonism central as eight people lunged for presents and began to tear open paper.
Fran opened a gift that appeared to be a lump of black lace. She eyed it, then blushed, and said, "Oh, Max, in front of the children?" and shoved it back in the paper and set it aside.
C.C., on the other hand, received a pair of cow-print pajamas. She groaned. "I'll show you," she said, digging into the pile of unopened presents. "Open this one."
Niles tore aside the paper and held up a choke collar and a chain leash. He glared at C.C.
She eyed him and eyed the collar. "Just about the right size," she said happily.
"Kiss me," he said. She did.
Max rolled his eyes at Fran as he fastened his new Rolex on his wrist.
Grace had a huge pile of nearly identical packages. She tore open the first of them. "Totem and Taboo," she read. "Cool." She opened the next one. It said, "Civilization and its Discontents."
"Hey," she said. "Is this the collected works?"
"Everything Sigmund Freud ever wrote," her father promised. "I didn't even cut out the parts on sex."
Brighton's head came up from opening another pair of socks and he suddenly looked interested. "Hey, Grace, can I borrow those?"
C.C. and Niles hefted two identical packages. "What could these be?" she wondered innocently.
"I don't know," he replied blankly.
They tore open the packages. "A cell phone!" Niles exclaimed. "Hey, this baby plays video games!"
C.C. held up an identical one. "And has voice activated speed dial," she added. "Let's find out if they work." She flipped hers open. "Butler Boy," she said.
Niles' phone began to ring. "Hi, darling, thanks," he said.
"Thanks yourself. Call me back?"
"Okay." They hung up. "Caca," Niles told his phone.
C.C.'s phone began to ring.
"Merry Christmas, Caca," he greeted her.
"I love it when you call me Caca," she sighed. "Okay, I see a box that looks like jewelry. Got to go."
"Greedy wench," he said, and flipped his phone closed.
Brighton rolled his eyes. "Please, God, don't ever let me get it that bad," he pleaded.
"I'll be surprised if you ever get it at all," Maggie told him. "Ooh, Michael, they're just gorgeous!" she gasped, opening up a jewelry box to reveal Tiffany's dogwood earrings studded with diamonds. Michael hugged her.
Niles looked at Maggie. "How do you two get along without arguing?"
Michael grinned. "Do you really want that to happen?"
Niles looked at his wife, who sat enraptured by a set of sapphire-studded hairpins. "Not in a million years," he said. "If I lost her, I'd have to give back the Rolex."
C.C. and Fran, after hauling their "take" up to their rooms, came back down and watched the babies. Morgan had fallen asleep in the middle of the floor, Eve played in the paper, and Jonah was pulling tinsel off the tree.
"Somehow," said Fran, "I don't think they're impressed by this whole Christmas deal."
"At least yours do something. All mine does is fall asleep." C.C. scowled at her sacked-out daughter.
"She's a month old," Niles protested, coming up behind then with three snifters of brandy.
C.C. and Fran took theirs and sipped delicately at it. C.C. told him, "If my daughter turns out to be some damn commie who's not into material things, it'll be your fault, and I'm divorcing you."
"I'm into material things," he protested. "Rolex, cell phone, '57 Chevy, designer suits, I'm very material. I just didn't have the money before I married a fat pile of cash."
"No, you just swiped all of Maxwell's stuff," Fran said with a grin.
"Fat?" C.C. said dangerously.
"Fat pile of cash. Fat cash, not fat wife!" protested Niles. "C.C., honey, put down my new barbecue set. That toasting fork is not a toy. You could put somebody's eye out."
"Only if I miss drastically."
Niles gently took the toasting fork away. "I said you weren't fat!"
Maxwell and Fran looked at each other in disbelief. "Somebody's whipped," said Fran.
Niles wasn't about to let that one pass. "Of course I told her she isn't fat. I lied to keep my anatomy intact!" Suddenly he felt something brush his foot. His formerly sleeping daughter was pounding on his shoe. Granted a one-month-old baby didn't have a lot of eye-hand coordination, but the intent appeared clear.
"She's defending Mommy!" C.C. crowed in delight. She swept Morgan up in her arms. "That's Mummy's little hellion, you teach that man who's boss, that's my good little girl."
Niles looked helplessly at Maxwell. "Get used to it," Max advised.
Niles slid his arm around C.C.'s waist and stroked his daughter's cheek. She gurgled up at him and waved a plump fist and his heart was lost all over again. His two blonde hellions might drive him completely insane, but he'd be the happiest nut in the Sheffield nuthouse.
The End
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