discoveredinalj | Discovered in the Wrapping Paper - Day 20 - All I Want for Christmas by Jat Sapphire

Posting on behalf of

jat_sapphire who's having tablet nightmares...

Author's Note - Not a sequel, but same universe as "I'll Be Home for Christmas."

All I Want for Christmas
by Jat Sapphire

At a loss for how to begin, Ray looked up Bodie's birth record. CI5's photocopy showed someone's quite messy handwriting and very little new information. Bodie had weighed six pounds. His birthplace was Liverpool. His parents' names were both present, Laura Adeline Finster Bodie and Sean Declan Bodie.

Ray smiled, shaking his head. Mr I'm an Irish Boyo had died of heart failure in 1959, hopefully in his own bed. Mrs Bodie remarried in 1960 to a John MacAllister. Bodie had run away in 1961.

The story seemed clear enough. But where were the MacAllisters now?

Ray knew that he was no whiz in Records. But he knew who was. He went looking for Liz.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked.

"No," he answered frankly. "So I'll check it out and only tell Bodie if it looks good."

He got her a beaker of tea with milk and sugar, and by the time she had drunk it, she had the address. "MacAllister's dead, did you know?" she said. "1972, stomach cancer."

He made a stomach-cancer sort of face, then told her, "You're a wonder," and kissed the top of her head. She handed him a sheet of paper with the address on, and he waved it in the air. "I owe you, lady."

"You do."

He took the train to Liverpool. Gazing out the window, he reflected that of all the cities, villages and towns from the white cliffs of Dover to the Shetland Islands, Liverpool looked the shabbiest and sullenest. No lavender and roses here.

The house was a tiny semidetatched that needed new paint and some repairs. He and Bodie could do them in an afternoon, if this worked out. Ray rapped on the door.

"Mrs MacAllister? My name is Ray Doyle. I'm with CI5, and I work with your son Will Bodie."

She didn't let him get any farther. "Go away." The door slammed shut.

That seemed definitive enough. But Ray wasn't ready to give up yet.

What he needed was an expert in mothering.

So he went back to the station and went to Derby.

"I can't be sure this will work," said Mrs Doyle, waving the paper she had just finished writing.

"At least she can't slam the door on it." Ray read the letter:

Dear Mrs MacAllister,

My name is Margaret Doyle. Having recently re-established relations with my son Ray, and having become acquainted with your son Bodie, I would be very happy to make your acquaintance and to share Christmas dinner with you. Please RSVP by phone. If your answer is yes, the lads will bring you and take you home.

I hope to see you this Christmas Eve.

Sincerely,
Margaret Doyle

Ray shrugged. "We'll see, eh? Call me if she says yes, and I'll tell Bodie."

A day went by with no RSVP; then Ray got a call from his mum. " She says yes."

Ray waited until evening, when he held Bodie in his arms, on the settee. "You know Mum's doing Christmas dinner for us. She wrote and invited your mother as well. She says she'll come." All Bodie's muscles set hard. Ray kissed his ear and let him sit up and away.

Then he slid his arms back around Bodie's stiff body. "You don't need to see her! Just tell me. If you say no, we'll go to Derby on Christmas Day and eat leftovers. Mum knows she's cooking for you--there'll be plenty. If you change your mind on the day, call me on the R/T. If you don't mind seeing her but don't want to drive her, go on to Mum's and we'll meet there. All up to you, mate."

Then he waited. Gradually, Bodie relaxed and took a few deep breaths. "I might get angry. She might get angry."

"The chance we take." Ray shrugged. Bodie was the important one here; of that he had no doubt.

At last, Bodie said "I think... I want to tell you. I tried and tried to explain, but nobody listened."

Ray grabbed Bodie's hands and held them hard. "I'll listen. I'm listening, Bodie!"

But of course, Bodie couldn't just pop out the story. "I'll ride with you on Christmas Eve," he said at last. "I'll tell you then."

Those few days felt like a year. But when Ray was tempted to push, he remembered that dreadful facial expression and kissed Bodie instead. And Christmas Eve came at last.

They made an early start, at half eight. As usual at that hour, Bodie rolled himself in his rain jacket and kipped in the passenger seat. But by half eleven, he was awake and showing interest, though there wasn't much to see in the outskirts of Liverpool.

"My father wasn't dead a whole year when my mother married again." Bodie's voice was low. "We were reading Hamlet in class, a line for each student, you know, and one of mine was 'The funeral baked meats did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.' The girl reading Gertrude giggled. Everyone stared at me."

"I'm going to kiss the stuffing out of you the first chance I get," Ray said.

"There's a nice wide shoulder right here," Bodie said a little wistfully. So Ray pulled over. Bodie snuggled into his arms as if he were comforted for his past embarrassment.

"i love you," Ray said. "I wish I'd known you then."

But Bodie shook his head. "I wasn't ready to know you then."

"We've got to go on," Ray said reluctantly, starting the ignition. "Tell me more about then."

"MacAllister was a hard man. He had a daughter, Caroline. She was 16. A sexy little piece. Pert boobies, little round arse. She had a little pink teddy with matching pants that she wore to bed. Used to bounce into my bedroom in the morning to see if I had morning wood. Mostly I did. She touched me through the sheets. Teased me about how big it was. She'd shower in the morning, wore a little towel afterwards that barely covered her. Then she told my mother I'd tried to rape her."

Ray made a shocked sound. "I don't think she knew what it meant," Bodie said thoughtfully. "Somebody was porking her, I'm fairly certain. Just not me."

Ray said angrily, "You know I was in the Drug Squad, but we all had training in Vice. Never knew when we'd run across evidence. If I'd known your Caroline, I'd have had some hard questions for Mr John."

"Mum wouldn't have believed it. With me right there."

Ray pressed his lips shut. He changed gears fiercely, and the car leapt forward.

"So I ran away."

Of course he had. Ray tried to swallow his anger. In a few minutes, he'd be meeting the woman. Bodie wouldn't thank him for tearing her head off.

"Thank you," he grated out, "for telling me." His hand fell on Bodie's leg, above the knee, and gripped hard. The shabby streets of Liverpool slipped past.

There was the tiny semidetached. "Needs paint," Bodie remarked.

Ray got out and walked to the door again. Knocked again. "Mrs MacAllister? It's Ray Doyle, come to get you for Christmas dinner."

She stepped out. She wore a little black hat with a fascinator veil and a black rain coat. She carried a big black handbag and a black umbrella.

She was nervous, Ray realised. She looked like Bodie and moved the way he did when his nerves were bothering him. He moved to open the rear passenger door for her. She sat and fumbled with the seat belt. "All right?" he asked and she nodded.

He wanted to kiss Bodie, whose face mirrored the nerves on Mrs MacAllister's. "All right," he repeated instead, and started the engine.

There was a fair amount of traffic into Liverpool, but not much toward Derby. They'd make good time.

Ray's mind was still on Bodie's story, so it seemed quite normal to hear Bodie's voice say, "Whatever became of Caroline, then?" with a bit more Scouse than usual.

"She fell pregnant, didn't she? Almost a year after you ... took yourself off. Tried to say it was you, but it'd been eleven months by then. John sent her to her mother's family in Dublin, and they put her to one o' them Magdelene laundries."

Ray made a face. Those laundries were awful places, almost fit for the Carolines of this world. He brushed Bodie's leg again and concentrated on driving.

"She's an au pair now. Takes care of a pair of kids in the Netherlands."

Bodie made a sound that could be agreement. Ray changed lanes. Mrs MacAllister didn't have much more to say.

Ray's mind ran ahead, to the dinner they were on their way to. "Bodie, I know you'll eat anything, but I hope you like goose, Mrs MacAllister. Mum stuffs it with root veg, potatoes and yams, parsnips and carrots and beets and rutabaga. The next day for leftovers, she mashes them all up together. With herb butter and a gratin."

"Two years ago, you did that," Bodie said after they'd waited awkwardly for Mrs MacAllister.

"Everything I know about cooking, I learned from my mother," Ray said resignedly. "My secret's out."

"I'll eat it anyway," Bodie reassured him.

"Of course you will."

Mrs MacAllister spoke up unexpectedly. "I like goose."

"Good."

Ray rubbed Bodie's leg above the knee and got a brilliant smile in return. Caroline, he reflected, must have been painfully stupid, or too damaged by her own experience, to realise how susceptible Bodie was to physical affection. "Lucky for me," he muttered.

"What?" asked Bodie, but Ray shook his head and Bodie dropped it.

As they drove down Litchurch Street, Ray felt proud of how his mother's little house glittered: the silver Christmas tree in the window, last year's popcorn chains in the yard to feed the sparrows, and lights making the whole house shine. "Come in, come in!" Ray cried, setting the brake. Bodie opened his mother's door and helped her out. In lieu of kissing Bodie (which he dearly wanted to do) Ray put one hand on his back and gestured at the door knob, but the door flew open with a gust of good roast smell and a welcoming cry from Ray's mum.

She gave Bodie a big, long hug, too, as if she knew that his own mother had not touched him. She offered a simple handshake to Mrs MacAllister, hugged and kissed Ray, and showed them where to hang their coats. The dinner table was all set for the four of them, clear broth soup and a basket of rolls, so they sat right down to it. No grace. When Bodie picked up a third roll, Mrs Doyle said, "Come help me with the goose," and a moment later, he carried it in, barely not overflowing the platter, and she brought the root vegetables in a big bowl. They were glased golden with goose fat and smelled amazing.

Ray carved and served veg and soon all four of them were eating as if they'd been starving. Mrs Doyle prompted them to tell what they could about their recent ops, which included a bomb threat in Harrod's and a sniper whom Bodie picked off from a roof across the street. "He's the best shot with a rifle in CI5," Ray said proudly.

"And you're the best with a handgun." Bodie's eyes were bright and Ray wanted so badly to kiss him that he grabbed his hand and wove their fingers together.

They pulled Christmas crackers and swapped the paper crowns until the two mothers had red and yellow, Ray had green, and Bodie had blue, which brought out his eyes a right treat. Ray's mum didn't know that Bodie's favorite pud was chocolate Swiss Roll; so she'd made a traditional figgy pudding stuffed with figs, raisins and currants, drenched in brandy and with a sprig of mistletoe in the top, the whole thing aflame and hard sauce for everyone. They finished it down to the last bite, and then Ray's mum gave him the mistletoe. "Put this to good use," she said.

"Oh, I will," he said.

When they were getting ready to leave, Mrs Doyle took both Mrs MacAllister's hands. "Thank you for coming," she said. "Our sons love each other, so I think we should be friends. Please call me Margaret."

Mrs MacAllister stammered something, and then kissed Ray's mum shyly on the cheek.

The drive back to Liverpool was fairly quick. Mrs MacAllister slept most of the way. Ray made several plans for his mistletoe.

When she got out of the car, she stood looking in the passenger side window at Bodie. "You can come see me, if you like," she said at last.

"I will, then," he said.

She patted him few times on the shoulder, and then went up the path and vanished into the house. For a moment, neither man moved. "Do you want to drive?" Ray asked.

"Sure." Bodie got out of the car and stretched, then walked around to the driver's side. "Something else first," he said, smiling. He opened the car door and handed Ray out, then wrapped around him as if they'd been separated. "All I wanted for Christmas was you," he said. "But look! I got my mother saying I can see her! Your mum feeding me leftovers tomorrow! You listened to me! I'm going to take you home and kiss you everywhere. Everywhere."

"Fine by me," Ray said, and kissed the nearest parts of Bodie. Then, reluctantly, he walked around to the passenger side and got in. "Can I put my head in your lap?"

"If you don't try anything clever," Bodie warned.

"All cleverness postponed until we get home," Ray promised.

"Then, be as clever as you like."

"Oh yes. I've still got that mistletoe, too."

end

Title: All I Want for Christmas
Author: Jat Sapphire
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit:
Disclaimer: Pros doesn't belong to anyone who plays on this comm, we're doing just that - playing.
Notes: I first saw this stepsister trope in a story of which I don't remember the title or author. The author's note said that the plot was not resolved because the real life incident on which the trope was based was never resolved either. Real life is sadly bad at plot structure. I'm sorry, Author: if I remembered your name, I would have asked permission.
Link to story on AO3.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

jat-sapphire.livejournal.com

Thank you! Quite a lot of my tablet trouble turns out to be its charge cord, but the new LJ posting software is also nightmarish.

milomaus.livejournal.com

It is, isn´t it? Horrible.

good thing your story is so great, I love the reason Bodie left home.

Thank you! Glad you liked it!

macklingirl.livejournal.com

Thank you

jat_sapphire for this piece of Christmas. It was nice to read a little about Bodie's past and I could see them eating with their mothers and pulling Christmas crackers.