~ Chapter Seventy Six ~

Becky sat crossed legged on the couch, her hand absently rubbing at the black crushed velvet material of her pants.  They didn't exactly go with her white tennis shoes, but this was Christmas Eve and what better time to wear Christmas Spirit shoes than on Christmas Eve?

She stared over at the Christmas tree in the corner.  Her father had spent an hour and a half winding the blinking strands of lights so that the tree would flash evenly.  Becky inspected the flashing lights critically.  As near as she could tell, they looked pretty even. 

Christmas had gone smoothly for Kevin this year.  Usually, Brian was there to generally wreak havoc, perhaps knock the tree over, wrap lights around his neck, drape tinsel on everything, including Kevin's head, but this year, things had gone quite smoothly. 

Becky had still climbed up on the couch and thrown tinsel on her father's head, and he had still chased her around the room, but it just hadn't been the same.  Chasing wasn't any fun unless her father was really mad. 

Right now, her parents were in the kitchen, arguing over alcohol.  It was something of a tradition in the Richardson household.  Becky had hot chocolate with a candy cane.  She left the adult drinks alone.  This year, it sounded like her mother was winning; no matter how many times Kevin stressed "that the recipe SAYS..." Elvis was singing Christmas Carols on the stereo, and Becky was watching the Christmas tree blink. 

Another Richardson family tradition was that Kevin would do at least one thing that completely shocked his family, usually while sober, although that rule was subject to change.  This year, he had invited Nick Carter over for Christmas Eve, and he had done it while sober.  Karen had almost been shocked speechless, but not quite.  Becky had been thrilled.  Nick was still one of her favorite people, especially since he had shown her what he was giving Stacy for Christmas.  It was a very good present, Becky thought, but she was excellent at keeping secrets and wasn't about to tell anyone what it was. 

The doorbell rang and Becky bolted for the entryway, her shoes jingling merrily. 

"Becky!"  Kevin yelled from the kitchen.  "Don't you dare answer that door!  For all you know, there could be a... Neanderthal standing there."  He finished, as he rounded the corner and saw the door already open and Becky jumping happily on Nick's feet. 

"Daddy, don't be silly!"  Becky giggled.  "Neanderthals don't stand at doors on Christmas Eve!"

"Oh, really?"  Kevin raised one eyebrow.  "Are there other holidays that they take off as well?" He smiled and started greeting Nick and Stacy while Becky stepped back.  Of course there were other holidays they took off - Christmas Day, Easter and the 4th of July.  Becky could have told him that, but she would have been interrupting, and her father had raised her not to interrupt.

"And how are you, Becky?"  Stacy asked, as she pulled her coat off.  "I like your shoes."

Becky held one foot up so both she and Stacy could see them better.  "They're Christmas Spirit shoes!  They jingle."  She added, just in case Stacy couldn't figure that out from the bells.  She probably could - Stacy was smart.  Kevin had said so. 

One of the more entertaining events of Christmas Eve was what had become known as "the present game".  It was a relay race of sorts, with two teams getting a certain amount of time to unwrap a large box-inside-a-box-inside-a-box present.  The catch - all unwrapping had to be done while wearing oven mitts.  Usually, by the time it was over, Becky had been trampled at least once, usually by her mother or Brian, Kevin and Brian would end up in a wrestling match on the floor - while still wearing the oven mitts, and Brian always won. 

This year, true to form, Kevin tackled Nick and wrestled him to the ground.  Nick, however,  was a considerably more aggressive fighter than Brian had been, even with oven mitts, and to Becky's great delight, it ended with Stacy and Karen dragging their respective men apart and lecturing them on acting their age. 

Becky won this year.  She unwrapped the smallest box, which of course, contained a Christmas ornament, this year a little glittery snowman.  Kevin always put an ornament in the smallest box. 

"Hey, Becky, c'mere."  Nick was sprawled across the couch, hair now frizzy on top, thanks to his bout on the carpet with Kevin. 

Becky narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Are you going to whap me on the head with that oven mitt?"

Nick's eyes widened.  "What?  No!  I have something for you."  He twisted and tucked the oven mitt until it formed some semblance of a ball, and tossed it at the back of Kevin's head, grinning when Kevin turned and gave him a perturbed glance. 

"A present!"  Becky squealed at the little package in red Santa wrapping paper. 

~*~

"Hey, Nick."  Kevin cornered Nick in the little walkway between the dining room and kitchen. 

"Yeah?"  This entire evening had confused Nick slightly.  Since when had Kevin lightened up this much?  He was practically giddy.  Maybe it was the alcohol creating Kevin's mood - or confusing Nick.  He didn't drink very often, but it sure knocked him out when he did.

"I, um, just wanted to thank you for what you did with Becky - giving her the angel."  Kevin folded his arms, looking slightly uncomfortable.  "Brian always gave her an angel."

"Yeah, I know."  Becky had told Nick that a few weeks back at the batting cage, that every Christmas Brian had given her an angel.  Gertrude had been last Christmas' gift.  A few days later, on an impulse, Nick had bought the little angel Becky was now clutching in her sticky hand. 

"Excuse me, guys."  Karen pushed her way through, bent over to carefully inspect the floor.

"What... are you doing?"  Kevin wondered.

Karen held one finger up for silence.  "Retracing my steps.  Somewhere along the way, I managed to lose one of the buttons off my shirt."  She pulled her shirt away from her chest and inspected the loose green threads.  "And since it's kind of the important button for holding things together there, I figured I should probably try to find it." 

Nick shrugged.  That made sense to him.  Kevin just looked confused.  Chances were, he had never lost a button from a shirt, and couldn't understand having to look for one.  Come to think of it, Nick couldn't remember ever losing a button off his shirt either, but he was quite sure that wasn't his point.  He wasn't too sure what his point was anymore.  Just standing in the same room as Kevin was confusing him.  It had to be the alcohol.  He was ready to go to bed.  Stacy would be driving home, Nick's brain had given up coherent thought for the night.

He followed Kevin back into the living room, collapsing next to Stacy on the couch and pulling her up against him.  She was making small talk with Kevin, something about what holidays were celebrated in India, Kevin intently paying attention, as if she was giving him life and death information. 

He could have been standing in the middle of one of those "find six things wrong with this picture" comics.  One, he was actually spending a Christmas Eve in what would be considered a traditional setting, rather than the carefully orchestrated parade of parties his parents went through every holiday season. 

Two, Kevin was being nice, no, Kevin was being downright friendly towards Nick, and had been ever since the World Series.  That was most definitely wrong. 

Three, Becky was lying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, staring up at the lights flashing on the ceiling, still holding the little angel Nick had given her earlier.  Brian should have given her the angel. 

Four, Brian wasn't there.  Five and six, Brian wasn't there. 

"Hey."  Becky appeared at his elbow, leaning on the arm of the couch.  "Want to watch The Toy That Saved Christmas with me?"

"What?"  Nick wrinkled his nose in confusion. 

"Veggie Tales."  Kevin had to throw in his two cents worth.  "Don't worry, Nick, they're right up your intellectual alley."

That was more like it.  Now there were only five things wrong with the picture.

~*~

"Well, good morning."  Stacy greeted Nick Christmas morning, as he stumbled into the kitchen, holding his head. 

"What time is... ow."  Nick collapsed at the table, and deciding that sitting was too much effort, sprawled across the top of the table. 

"Close to ten."  Stacy ran her hand through his hair, half of which was on end, the other half smashed flat from the pillow.  "Is someone hungover?"

Nick raised his head, squinting at her.  "Did Kevin try to get me drunk?"  He asked slowly.

"No... if I remember correctly, he gave a little speech about your age.  Karen, however, was quite determined to intoxicate you."

"I'm beginning to think I have a very low tolerance level."  Nick's head flopped back down on his arms.  "It's probably the same for drugs."

"Probably?"  Stacy raised one eyebrow.  Even she had gotten high once.  However, unlike the figure draped across the table, alcohol didn't seem to have much of an effect on her.  Nick had been out like a light by 9:30 that night, falling asleep with Becky in the family room in the middle of their third screening of the Veggie Tales video.  "You've never been high?"

"Nope."  Nick's voice was muffled.  "I always found overdosing to be a lot more fun."  He sat back up, pushing his hair back off his forehead.  "Do we have any painkiller?"

That couldn't have been intentional.  It was amazing enough that he'd make a crack about overdosing, but to follow it up like that - it had to be a lack of working brain cells.  "Okay..."  She said slowly.  "But I'm only giving you two."

Nick's face scrunched in confusion, before realization dawned.  "Oh!  I didn't... that wasn't on purpose."  He beamed a ditzy smile in her direction.  "I have a headache."  He explained. 

"You know..." She handed him his Advil and patted his cheek.  "It's a good thing you're cute, Nick, or you'd never survive."

~*~

"You're going to clean this up, right?"  Stacy sounded skeptical, observing the shredded wrapping paper on the floor of the living room. 

"Dude, ripping up the paper is the best part."  Nick protested mildly, not really paying attention.  Stacy was snuggled up against his shoulder, legs tucked up underneath her.  Her hair was still damp, giving off the scent of her shampoo.  As far as Nick was concerned, he wasn't moving anytime soon to pick up wrapping paper, and neither was she.  Besides, his head was still fuzzy, and he didn't feel like moving - they could stay on the couch like that all day, and he'd be perfectly happy. 

"So, I can open this one now?"  Stacy was waving the last one in front of his face. 

"Yeah, sure."  Nick tightened his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head.  Stacy didn't believe in ripping wrapping paper.  She slit the tape and took the paper off all in one piece.  Where was the fun in that?

"Oh... how beautiful."  Stacy said quietly, lifting the necklace out of the box and draping it across her hand.  It was a small silver angel, not quite half an inch tall, hanging on the end of a thin chain.  "You were on an angel kick while shopping?"  She added, half amused.

"No... I mean, yeah, well..."  Nick stopped, running his hand through his hair, his headache completely forgotten.  For once in his life, he was going to make the words come out in the right order.  This was ridiculous.  "Becky and I were talking about angels  few weeks ago at the batting cage, and she was talking about angels and how they help people and... they make everything okay, and while she was telling me all this, it kept reminding me of you." 

Stacy had pulled away, turning so she could face him as he tried to explain the reasoning behind the necklace, her gray eyes staring at him intently. 

He shrugged slightly when she didn't say anything.  "So..."  he finished softly.  "You're my angel."

She smiled shakily, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his neck. 

Nick's next words didn't catch in the back of his throat, like they usually did.  In fact, he said them without really thinking about it.  "I love you."