That Time of Year…

     "I give it fifteen, and twenty."

     "No way in hell. It’ll be five and I’ll say fifty."

     "Five? Fuck, he can’t even get up the ladder in five. Fifteen, and I’ll make it a hundred."

     "He can get up the ladder in four, and it’ll only take one. Make it two hundred and you’re on."

     Kitty emerged from the closet, blowing dust off of her nose, and handed a heavy cardboard box to Thomas. The vampire smiled as he took it, peering past her to the neatly stacked Halloween decorations. "Did Nathan finally let you take that Gothic mirror down?"

     She snorted, picking up the bag of gold tinsel, and kicked the door to the storage closet shut. "Only after I showed him the gold one. Then I could take it down." Rolling her leaf-green eyes, Kitty retrieved a fallen piece of fake holly and lead the way back to the pack haven’s living room, where the fresh pine tree stood waiting, already in the heavy brass base Slate had brought all the way from his mortal home in Texas. Thomas thumped down the box of ornaments and looked at the neat coils of electric lights with trepidation.

     "It’s a good idea we had last year, coiling them up like that, but since Nathan’s the one who put the Christmas stuff away, I just know that there’s going to be a broken bulb in there somewhere."

     Kitty laughed as she opened the box, pulling out the styrofoam trays holding the ecletic collection of ornaments the pack had gathered over the years. "And it’ll be the one right at the end of the line, after we’ve checked all the others. Oh man, another one of the stars broke," she grumped, looking into one of the trays. A set of six delicate glass stars, two in pieces, were cradled in the foam, glinting silver and gold underneath the living room lights. Thomas sighed as he looked at the shattered glass, and drew one of the ornaments out, holding it up to the light carefully.

     "I don’t think it really matters anymore," he said, peering into the frosted surface. "That thing Brad did to them two years ago wore off."

     "Still," the blonde said, digging out a pile of small wooden trains, all brightly painted, and began untangling their hanging cords. "I wish we’d stop breaking ornaments. I know we’re going to lose at least fifteen of them this year."

     Thomas blanched as he broke the zip ties on the lights, looking at Kitty with nearly panicked eyes. "Slate didn’t get two of the PS3 consoles?!?"

     "Nope." Kitty shook her head, gold braids thumping on her shoulders. "He could only get the one. Kyle told him to go to hell if Slate thought he was giving up his pre-order just to save some blood on Christmas."

     "Oh maaaaaaaaan," Thomas groaned, flopping onto the carpet by Kitty’s knees. "Can’t we open presents in the shooting range then? I hate scrubbing blood out of the carpet!"

     "No go, but Slate said I could put a tarp down. If Nathan and Jack fight off of it, they get to suck the blood out of the rug themselves."

     He laughed, sitting up, and dug around in the box. "Are the football helmets still in here? I’m hiding them if they are."

     Kitty, busily separating out the pack stockings, grinned at Thomas. "Um…they had an ‘accident’ around March when I was getting the Easter stuff out. Whoops."

     Thomas laughed at her innocent expression, and drew out the heavy wooden box containing the tree’s angel. He opened it and peeked in, smiling when he saw the porcelain doll was intact. She was a beautiful piece of work, and possibly the only tasteful thing Jack had ever contributed to the tree. Hair of spun gold was delicately arranged in tiny curls around her pristine face. Her features were perfectly formed, and the soft color of her blue eyes always made everyone smile. The frothy white silk and satin of her robes had never been stained, not even when Slate had landed on broken glass ornaments in his boxers to catch her when Jack and Nathan had knocked the tree over four years ago. Her wings stretched over twelve inches, and were made of swan’s feathers. She held no harp, but her hands were outstretched as if she was reaching for the observer. Her name was Regina, and everyone in the pack loved her. She was a tradition, as much as the Christmas night fights, and it always made Thomas think fondly of when Jack had first taken her out of his tru-

     "What the hell was that?!" Thomas’s hands snapped the lid on the box as a loud crash sounded dimly through the ceiling of the haven. Considering they were underground, hearing something that happened outside of the church above meant it had been a drastic occurence. Kitty sat with huge eyes, blinking a

t Thomas as she tried to fumble the pieces to the ceramic gingerbread house she’d been holding back together.

     "I have no idea," she said, then turned when the haven door opened. Jack and Nathan stood in the entryway, stomping snow off of their boots. Jack looked royally pissed, and Nathan’s broad grin obviously wasn’t helping his mood any. Without a word, Jack yanked his wallet out of his back pocket, slapped bills into Nathan’s hand and stalked past Kitty and Thomas into the living room. Thomas groaned as he looked at Nathan, smacking his forehead with his palm.

     "Slate?"

     Nathan grinned all the more brightly. "Four minutes up the ladder, fifteen seconds with the lights, and thirty seconds of wind-milling on the ladder and trying to grab the sculpture, and fifteen seconds down." His steps positively bounced as he walked through the living room, stuffing the bills in his jacket pocket. "I love Christmas."