The Christmas Gift

One of the oldest stories I ever conceived. Very little has changed from the original comic.

Book 1 Story 9 – Dana gains an unwelcome shadow – a cop

Link to all stories: Here

Comic version: Here

Light, fluffy tufts of snow were falling on the city streets. The best kind of snow. The one that made children rush outside to catch the flakes on their tongue. A snow that put a smile on people’s faces, knowing that by morning, Christmas morning, the world would be coated in magical white.

It was just past six o’clock in the evening, yet the streets were surprisingly busy. People scurried about, racing against time to get their last-minute gifts, or run their foolishly late errands.

Some of the shops were just closing, while others lingered, hesitant to close up with desperate shoppers still about. One had been clever enough to set up a table outside full of assorted sweets and trinkets. He’d written ‘stocking stuffers’ in black on a cardboard sign. He was doing well.

Dana observed it all from her shadow in the alley, disappointed by the lack of cheer.

Run run run, she thought to herself. Like mindless drones, flitting from one decaying bud to another in the hopes of finding one last morsel to bring back to the queen.

Two men were squabbling over a particularly good find. A gift set of bath luxuries, branded, at that, the perfect last-minute gift for a relative forgotten about, or a wife who’d almost certainly be furious at the lack of forethought.

She watched them with mild interest, wondering if it would come to blows, but the smaller man in the cheap jacket and faded jeans gave in. Maybe his female friend or relative would end up with a bottle of wine instead. 

Another was on the phone arguing, getting more and more flustered. Dana imagined that it was his angry partner on the other end, telling him off about the gift he was unable to find, as well as his idiocy at leaving it until the last minute. He seemed beaten, looking around in panic. What could he get to alleviate the receiver’s fury?

The two shoppers over by the bakery bumped into each other, exchanging a mixture of annoyed and distracted looks instead of the usual festive greetings. Another looked smug, carrying her bagged prize. She walked down the street long legged with a sure air of triumph, high heels clicking on the pavement, right past a beggar who’d been asking for change. No Christmas spirit here either.

The one thing the lot of them had in common was that no one was smiling.

Slowly, Dana’s lips parted into an ever widening, and unsettling toothy grin. Her excitement was growing in surges. 

They needed cheering up.

There wasn’t much the police could do. Two bottles of vodka and a bag of chips wasn’t much of a loss. Even the shop keeper hadn’t bothered to report it. It was this damned rookie that had turned things into a headache. 

It had been a trying day. Officer Daniels had been assigned many rookies over the course of his policing career. Few stood out as exceptional on their first day. This newest one, Officer Chris White, had further to go than most. He’d been at the bottom of his academy class being neither too bright, nor too diligent a student. It had taken some time for him to find a placement. 

It was not to say he didn’t have positive qualities. He had the bright-eyed optimism of youth and the pie-eyed dream of saving the world. What he lacked in experience, smarts or finesse, he made up for in simple sincerity.

Sincerity that was quickly losing its appeal as an irritated twitch ruffled Daniels’ thick bushy moustache. He was wishing he’d never stepped into this shop.

When the cashier spotted the fresh-faced trainee picking up a few end-of-shift snacks, he thought it was his lucky day. A shoplifter had passed through there only twenty minutes ago, taking the booze and snacks with him. A paltry haul, not even worth reporting. He didn’t even have a clear picture of the guy on the cameras. Chris, though, was so damned eager to please. Unfortunately, he didn’t know when to call it quits. After ten minutes of pointless questions and promises, Officer Daniels had to put his foot down. At least they’d gotten their light meals and drinks for free.

“For God’s sake Chris,” he said, walking out of the store with Officer White in tow. “You need to learn that we can’t help everyone.”

Chris looked over at him with disappointment in his eyes as he shoved a full quarter of his sandwich in his mouth. He really wanted to make his senior proud. That’s why he’d got caught up in the chance to do some good on his first day. Swallowing most of his bite whole, he offered a somewhat muffled response. “I really think the guy’s from this neighborhood. All I’m saying is we keep our eyes open.”

Daniels stopped just short of the cruiser and gave his partner a stern look. “I’m already late. I’ve got a wife and two wonderful children all nice and warm at home, wondering why Daddy’s not there. It’s Christmas Eve. I want to be with them, not out here hunting for dead ends! We’re going back to the station. Now.”

Wolfing down the rest of his mouthful, Chris gave him a sheepish grin. “Sawwy,” he sputtered, spitting a crumb as he did so.

“And don’t talk with your mou-“, Daniels started when they heard a commotion. A few cries of astonishment, and a near continuous high-pitched squeal of glee was headed in their direction. He headed to Chris’ side when the source of the issue became apparent.

A petite woman with wild shock-red hair came skidding out from behind a nearby corner, looking back in the direction she’d come. A crazed wide-open smile was splashed across her exuberant face. She stamped down her leading foot while flailing her arms about to keep her balance as she bolted in their direction. Aside from the long, light coat trailing behind her, she was completely naked. Suddenly noticing the two directly in front of her, she panicked, screeching to a halt, desperately bracing herself to keep from running right into them. Daniels looked at her dully; his only reaction being a lowering of his eyebrows to signal his lack of amusement. Chris, however, shocked and red-faced, looked promptly away, as if averting his eyes would somehow help her preserve her dignity.

Daniels groaned at the apparently none-too-surprising sight, slapping a hand to his face. “Why are you naked, Dana?”

Her eyes went wide and unfocused, all movement coming to a stop, like a wind-up toy at the end of its cycle. Seconds ticked by as Chris peeked in her direction, beginning to wonder if she was drunk, high or mentally ill. She whirred back to life, looking up at them both with a smile. “It’s Christmas,” she replied.

Chris looked over to his mentor for guidance. He obviously knew her, but his face wasn’t stern, or etched with concern. He looked pained, as if the hot dog he’d just eaten was clawing its way back up his throat.

“Sir?”

“Dana, go home,” Daniels sighed, sincerely hoping to erase this one from memory.

“I don’t want to!” she started, but the senior officer would have none of it.

“And do up your coat!” he barked.

She obeyed with hesitation, watching the younger officer find confidence to look her way again. His face was a hilarious mix of flushed cheeks, horrified eyes, and dumb gawking, provoking a short fit of giggles from her. She was tempted to tear open the coat again, just to watch him squirm.

Fed up with delays, Daniels grumbled and made a motion to shoo her away, much to her disappointment. “Dana, I’m going to pretend this didn’t happen. Go home and stay there!”

Chris looked at him in shock. “What? We can’t-“, he started, but his senior cut him off.

Daniels grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him aside. “Let it go! It’s not worth it!”

“But-”

“Believe me, she’s a pain in the ass, but she’s not dangerous!”

Chris looked over at her, wanting to trust his partner’s words, but she was jumping in place like she needed a toilet, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She looked like she was going to run. He broke away from Daniels’ grasp, approaching her with caution. Spotting his advance, she braced herself, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Hey there,” he said softly. “You’re going to do as he said, right?” 

She pierced his eyes with hers, searching him for intent, then broke out in a huge toothy grin. Tensing her legs, she shifted her weight to her left foot and launched herself away from him. Crying out, he leaped forward and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back before she could run. She snapped her head around, snarling and screamed, “Get off of me!”

Chris refused. “I can’t do that ma’am!” Having secured one arm, he was making an attempt to capture the second. Furious, she grabbed his flailing arm by the wrist, pulled it towards her and bit him as hard as she could. He cried out, trying to yank his forearm away from her. She hadn’t done any actual harm through the layers of his coat, but it had sure as hell surprised him.

“ENOUGH!” Daniels bellowed, his authority firm and clear. He cast the increasingly burdensome young officer aside and pulled both of Dana’s arms behind her with practiced ease. Chris fell back, eyes darting around him for potential witnesses. The last thing he needed was for this embarrassment to become a viral sensation. He looked back at his mentor, for guidance.

“We’re bringing her in?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice anymore!” he snapped, eyeing him with fury. Chris’ idiotic actions had just turned a harmless prank into an assault on an officer. 

Dana struggled against his grip, emitting a petulant moan.

“If I have to handcuff you I will!” Daniels snapped, looking her dead in the eye. She snarled a wordless response that made it clear he would, and she wasn’t going to make it easy.

****

Dana was gleefully kicking the cage behind Officer White’s seat trying to get a reaction. It didn’t take long.

“QUIT IT!” 

Chris clenched his teeth at the sight of her cheeky grin and gleeful eyes then whipped back to face the windshield, waiting for the pounding to continue. When it didn’t, he wondered why. He slowly turned to peek at her from the corner of his eyes. At the moment their eyes met, she delivered a powerful strike with both feet, followed by a manic laugh.

He whipped around, having lost his patience. “Look, you loonie!” 

“I DON’T LIKE YOU!’ she screamed, then kicked the cage again for good measure.

“You don’t like ME? Who the hell would like YOU? People must RUN like HELL when they see you! Your parents must have been thrilled with you! What’d they do? Lock you up!?”

Dana froze, mouth agape. The abrupt silence that followed seemed deafening. The car swerved violently to the side of the road and braked hard. Daniels turned to the new recruit, furious. “OUT, NOW!” he shouted.

Realizing he’d gone too far, Chris paled and sheepishly got out of the car. Daniels stepped out, slamming the door hard behind him. He walked around to the other side and grabbed the painfully inexperienced young man hard by the wrist, yanking him to a distance where they’d be less likely to be heard. 

“Didn’t they teach you to leave your feelings at home?!”

“I-‘ Chris stammered, his face reddening. 

“SHUT UP!” Daniels barked. He’d trained a lot of new academy graduates. Most had a lot to learn, but this one seemed especially reckless, if not stupid. While his optimism and save the world attitude were appreciated, he was ignorant, unprofessional and had an alarming lack of self-control. Outbursts like this could get him, or others killed. “That ‘loonie’ has had a rough life! People DON’T like her! Don’t want to be around her and her parents couldn’t STAND her! Kept her locked up to protect their precious image! They died when she was barely a teenager and she wound up as a punching bag for her aunt! I don’t know how she survived, but she did until she was smart enough to run off! So yeah, she’s a mental case! She hasn’t got anyone!”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Chris said with his head down.

“Everyone has a story. You need to learn the difference between the ones you can save, the ones you need to lock up, and the ones to walk away from. That one?” he nodded towards the car. “She’s not some violent criminal. I pick her up now and then on stupid things, like today. She pays the fine, she goes home. She doesn’t hurt anyone. She’s just lonely with a head full of nightmares.”

Chris looked over to the car where Dana had ceased her merriment and now stared vacantly out the window. He couldn’t quite tell from this distance, but she seemed to be crying softly to herself. His words had hurt her more than he had had the foresight to see. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, this time, heartfelt.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to! And for God’s sake, learn some restraint or you won’t last a week!”

Chris took one last look at the figure in the car, curled up against the door. The boundless energy and euphoria had blinked out like a whizzing pinwheel firework display exhausting its fuel. The spark was gone, leaving lifeless black ash to be scattered to the wind.

“She looks more like a danger to herself now,” he muttered, knowing he’d caused this. 

“She could very well be,” replied Daniels. She wasn’t just a public nuisance. He’d had to talk her down more than once from ending it all.

Chris swallowed any remnants of his ignorance. “Do we have to arrest her?”

Daniels’s face softened. “No. No, we don’t.”

For the rest of the drive, Chris was very quiet, periodically glancing at the woman in the back. She hadn’t moved at all or shown any sign of awareness. Her eyes were open but vacant. Her body was limp. Even when the car hit a bump, she seemed not to notice. Not even when her head bounced sharply against the window. 

Nothing had changed when they reached the station, nor when they exited the car. Chris prudently held back, letting his mentor handle her care. Maybe he could learn a few things about the proper handling of such situations by keeping quiet and just observing. Daniels was patient, vastly more experienced and seemed to have some sort of relationship with the erratic woman.

Chris watched him talk to her but couldn’t make out much of what he’d said. After a minute or two she stirred, turning her head to look at him. After a few minutes more, she started to move again, sliding across the seat to get out. Daniels placed his hand on her shoulder, they exchanged a few more words, then she started to walk away. Daniels watched her go, listlessly shuffling, until she’d exited the parking lot. Grim-faced, he turned back to his young ward and went to join him. 

“Is she going to be OK?” Chris asked.

The older officer grimaced. “She’ll be all right. She gets like this sometimes. I’m sure by tomorrow she’ll be back to her old energetic self.”

Chris wasn’t so certain.

***

While driving home, Chris couldn’t get the events of the night out of his head. He’d had his first encounter with someone doing something that warranted police intervention. It was wrong, indecent, it needed to be addressed. He’d been taught that situations were rarely black and white, but was unprepared for the reality. She wasn’t drunk, or high. They couldn’t throw her in a cell to sleep it off. She wasn’t crazy either, according to Daniels, but she did have a history that began to explain her behavior. In the end, he learned, she wasn’t evil or even bad. She was just tormented. How do you deal with a person such as that? She needed help, not a sentence. 

He was mulling over how he could have done things differently when he spotted her at the side of the road. She was walking, hunched over. Her arms were desperately wrapped around her as she shivered in the freezing temperatures. The snow was falling with more now, coating her fiery red hair in chilling white. He knew she was bare underneath the flimsy coat and became concerned for her physical health on top of her mental one. If she had much further to go, she could die of exposure. He pulled over next to her and rolled down the window.

“Hey,” he shouted. “Are you OK?” 

She looked at him with mistrust. His uniform had been replaced with a generic green parka, his cruiser for an old sedan. He was a civilian now, but she still saw an enemy. 

“Aren’t you cold?” he added, hopeful she’d respond. 

She was loath to admit it, but she was in fact freezing. In her manic euphoria, she’d felt only surges of invincibility. Now that it was gone, the long, but rather light coat was doing little to protect her body beneath. She withheld a reply, but he could see from her expression that he’d hit the mark. Still, she quickened her step.

“I’m sorry,” he called out.

She came to a stop, biting her lip.

She was listening, at least, but it was hard to express sincerity by shouting out a window. He put the car in park and undid his seatbelt. He stepped out into the cold, raising his hands as if declaring surrender. It needed to be clear that he meant her no harm. “I really am sorry,” he repeated with sincerity. “It was a horrible thing to say and I wish I could take it back.”

Dana winced a bit at the mention. His apology didn’t change the fact that what he had said was true. The last thing she wanted was to bring it up again. Sighing, she forced herself to drop her tensed shoulders. She was too tired and too cold to fight.

“Please, let me give you a ride.”

Dana brought her hands to her chest, clutching the jacket tightly. It was still a very long walk home. She doubted she could tolerate the freezing temperatures much longer. As much as she couldn’t stand the thought of being so near him, the car was warm, and the ride would be brief. She looked up at him and nodded.

****

Dana stormed into the house, annoyed at her new shadow. It had been an awkward ride. Every moment she had to spend so close to him was a reminder of his words. Worse still, it hadn’t been enough for him to drive her home, he had insisted on escorting her inside. 

Chris followed her in, deeply concerned. The woman was clearly unstable, and thanks to him, possibly suicidal. Wracked with guilt over the part he’d played in this, he felt an obligation to stay until he could be sure she wasn’t a danger to herself or others. His heart was in the right place, even if his sensibility wasn’t. He had no business being in her home, watching her, but it was Christmas Eve and she had no one. A half hour of his time, while little to him, might mean the world to her. Just caring, when no one else was there to, could be a meaningful gift. 

Dana spun around from a few feet ahead staring him down. He had such a stupid optimistic look on his face. That caring look she’d seen so many times before in people that ultimately disappointed her. He’d get bored soon enough. Resolved to ignore him, she resumed her irritated march, disappearing around the corner.

He waited in the foyer for some time, scanning his surroundings. It was dimly lit, the air a bit stale. Nothing had been kept in good condition. The mat by the door was tattered and filthy. The wallpaper was peeling in at least two places. There was a worrying crack on the ceiling, stains on the battered wooden floor, and a collection of webs that seemed to have been nurtured instead of removed. Dust had been cleared around them, but the contented little spiders had been spared. It reeked of neglect; years of it. Based on what he’d seen of her so far, Dana’s home was a glaring indication that she wasn’t well. 

He eyed the table next to him. It was a sturdy oak thing about waist height, a little too deep for the size of the hall. He wondered how many times she’d tripped over it in the dark. The only decoration upon it was a small handmade burlap doll, skewered through the heart with a knife. It looked pretty happy about the situation by its black stitched smile. 

He quietly pulled out the only drawer, hoping to find very normal things, a pen, some keys, maybe a few bus tokens. He did. He looked at the doll again with mistrust and slid the drawer back in place. He resumed his post, taking in what he could until he realized he hadn’t heard her in some time. Snapped to attention he listened, but there was nothing. “Dana?” he called out, but there was no response.

Dread filled him as he began to think she’d given him the slip. She could have easily exited a window, or a back door. Cursing at his own stupidity, he hurried down the hall, poking his head into the first door on the right. There she was, standing naked from the waist up with her back to him. She turned and screeched in alarm, grabbing a shirt to cover her chest.

Chris jumped away and turned, planting his back against the wall. “I’m sorry!” he yelled out, heart pounding in horror. This was not going well. She came out of the room a few minutes later dressed in an absurdly oversized long-sleeved shirt and a pair of battered capris, glowering at him pressed up against the wall.

“Having fun?” she snapped.

Red-faced, he tried to sputter an apology but only managed a “I-yuh…” It had not been a good night for him when it came to not pissing her off. She leaned in towards him and hissed loudly like an angry cat, before turning around and storming off towards the kitchen. Gathering his wits, he went after her. He needed to fix this. 

Once in the room, she selected a bottle of wine from a rack in the corner, brought it to the counter and opened it with practiced ease. She then fetched herself a glass and filled it to the brim before setting the bottle down. 

As she lifted it to her mouth he spoke with some concern. “Are you planning to drink that whole thing?”

She glowered at him before putting the glass back onto the counter. Reaching back into the cupboard, she pulled out a shot glass, making a dramatic show of pouring him a pitiful quantity. With a bitterly sarcastic glare she handed it to him saying, “There. Now I won’t be drinking the WHOLE thing.”

He reluctantly accepted the offering. It was hardly appropriate to be sharing a drink, but what harm could a bare mouthful do? She lifted her glass anew with an exaggerated open-mouthed smile, declaring, “Merry fucking Christmas!!” then downed the lot in one go.

He was hardly amused, now further worried about her state of mind. If he could establish some sort of rapport, maybe she wouldn’t feel so threatened. A mouthful of wine was hardly going to dull his senses, but it could mark the start of some better relations.

She was filling her glass once more when he extended his in a friendly gesture.

“Why don’t you stop pouring so we can make a proper toast?” he said in an even, calming voice. She paused, eyeing him suspiciously, and slowly set the bottle down. He gave her an encouraging nod. She held up her glass to his, awaiting his response. 

Feeling reassured, he indicated his approval and said, “To new friends.”

Dana raised an eyebrow. She had no interest in being his friend. He could, however, be better company than an empty house. “Merry Christmas,” she replied, this time with some sincerity. 

Chris was pleased to see her more restrained when she took only a sip this time. His efforts at peace clearly had an impact. Optimistic about the outlook, he drank his. His reaction was immediate and considerable. He pulled back his head in shock, eyes wide, considering the now empty vessel as if it had tried to betray him. Dana wondered if he was all right until he broke out into a wondrous smile. It was some sort of red wine, but unlike any he’d had before. The sheer range and depth of flavor was like nothing he’d experienced. It filled his senses with its tantalizing complexity, then danced away, beckoning him to chase after it. Stupefied by the elusive depths he exclaimed, “What is this?”

Dana regarded him with a scornful look and dryly responded, “Wine.”

Too thrilled by this new pleasure to notice the insult he held the glass up to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Seriously, where did you get this? It’s incredible!”

Her face clouded over. “It’s what’s left of my parent’s vineyard,” she replied.

The potential awkwardness of the reference completely passed him by as he held out the ridiculously undersized glass with excitement and an unabashed look of greed. “Can I…?” Her irritation turned to cautious amusement, pouring him another snifter. He tried to take his time to savor it, but the multitude of flavors was still just a tease. Sheepishly, he held out the glass again.

“Did you want a proper sized glass?” she asked, looking at him with new amusement. His face grew comically distorted with indecision, as if the devil had just offered him untold riches for the low, low price of his measly soul. He really hadn’t planned on staying, much less crossing a few lines by drinking, but he couldn’t help himself. It was just too damned good. Maybe a small piece of his soul would do. To borrow. 

“Just, just a little bit more.”

Dana sat cross-legged at one end of the couch howling with laughter.

‘’Give me a chance!” Chris cried from his perch two cushions away. 

“You’ve had four already!” 

“Lucky number five!” he proclaimed, taking another sip. 

His enthusiastic response to her precious stock had sparked life back into her eyes. He was eager to learn about this new, unexplored world of taste sensations and she was happy to teach him, but one type, from one year was just a drop in an ocean of possible flavor combinations. There were so many others to be discovered. After the first glass she opened another, for comparison. By the time they ended up in this game of guess-the-flavor they’d sampled a few. Partially emptied bottles littered the table, offering no clear answer as to how much either of them had actually drunk overall.

Chris squeezed his eyes shut, lips pressed together hard, holding a finger high above his head in an attempt to suggest the answer was at hand. “I know this, I know this!”

“You find it on a farm!” Dana led, fighting to keep herself from yelling out the answer.

“CHICKEN!” he screamed.

She spat out her mouthful, nearly choking. “CHICKEN!?” she screeched back before erupting in a fit of gut-wrenching laughter.

“Everything tastes like chicken!”

Holding her aching stomach with one hand, she nearly fell off the couch grabbing a cushion with the other. Righting herself with some difficulty, she threw it at him hard. 

“It’s straw you twit!”

“How should I know what straw tastes like? I’m not a cow!” he shouted back, dodging her missile. He overshot the movement, sending himself off-balance. In a frantic attempt not to fall over, he grabbed the back of the couch with a resounding thump and an astonished cry. 

It was too much for the already hysterical woman. Any more of his clumsy antics and she’d have to crawl out of the room to give her poor middle a rest. Chris looked at her doubled over with wonderment. He had no idea he could be so funny. No matter how stupid his jokes were, her reaction was always unrestrained hilarity. The more she cracked up, the more he wanted to find any way he could to keep her going. It hadn’t been difficult. She laughed at just about everything he said or did.

He’d written her off as a lunatic, but once given a chance, she was surprisingly enjoyable to be around. A little off the wall, maybe, but in a quirky way. With loneliness taken out of the equation, she was just so much fun!

She was kind of cute too. He hadn’t thought about it before, but it kept creeping into his mind now. She was a bit on the small side with a delicate build. That crazy red hair was so bright, it gave her pale skin a rosy glow, making her lively blue eyes and ever-present laughing smile seem even more noticeable. 

Her defenses had long been dismantled, leaving an exuberant, adorably silly, fun person in its wake. Every time she giggled, she would scrunch up her hands and toes and shake her shoulders, as if every part of her wanted to join in the fun. Her face contorted, overexpressed every nuance like a living cartoon. What once was sullen and simmering was now so full of life even her first appearance seemed dull in comparison. 

Sometimes she’d uncurl her legs, her feet creeping closer to where he sat. Close enough that if he shifted an inch or two she might make contact with his thigh. Just when the thought of it overcame his hampered thinking, they’d be whisked away again and returned beneath her in her cross-legged pose. If she were aware of the growing effect it was having on him, she didn’t show it. 

And that ridiculous shirt of hers, about five sizes too big, kept slipping off her shoulders. She’d eventually notice then pull it up again, only to start giggling anew and shake it back off. It had slipped even further this time when she leaned forward to try and hold herself together. The fact that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath hadn’t gone unnoticed. It was difficult to ignore, actually. That tantalizing curve of flesh beneath was teasing him just within arm’s reach.

“Hellllooooo!” she called, peering at his frozen face with amusement.

He blinked, startled. When had she stopped laughing? She was leaning forward, head tilted. She gave him a little wave and smiled, her giggles starting up again. The man’s attention was clearly elsewhere, squarely fixed on her hanging shirt and braless chest. She gathered the loose fabric to her skin, blushing. It hadn’t been the first time he’d seen those tonight, but was flattered, nonetheless. She gave him a playful swat yelling, “Hey!”

Snapped out of his trance, he looked up at her with a lopsided grin. He seemed a bit dazed when he answered, “What?”

“I think you’re drunk!” she giggled, to his delight. 

“So are you!” he replied pointing a finger at her flushed cheeks.

She curled up a hand and bit down on her thumbnail with a twinkle in her eye and a naughty little smile, eyeing the collection of half-empty bottles on the table. 

“I think we tried too many wines,” she mused, her shoulders shaking again.

Chris leaned back into the couch, looking spent.

“I gotta piss,” he announced.

She snorted out a shocked laughed, removing the fingernail from her mouth. He smiled back, steeling himself for the manoeuvre. With a swing of his arms, he tried to heave himself up, failing miserably. As soon as he was halfway upright, the world around him spun like a carnival ride, sending him right back down. He landed on the floor to the sound of Dana’s shocked cry, back against the couch, head flopping onto the cushion. Surprised by his own clumsiness, he sat there stunned, staring at the ceiling before breaking into a wide grin.

“Are you alright?” she laughed.

His face screwed up in tickled bewilderment, lifting a hand to point at something above. “Have you got mistletoe in EVERY room?” he asked, finding his own statement hilarious.

Dana followed his eyes upwards to the item in question. “How did you know about the others?”

He regarded her with a sloppy attempt to look smug. “I’m a cop. I notice everything.” 

It was hard to take him seriously, not speaking from the floor with his legs splayed out, like he was about to have a pelvic exam.

She fought to contain herself at the ridiculous sight, shrugging her shoulders unapologetically, “a girl can hope”.

He considered her for a moment as she swam in and out of soft focus. “What the hell!” he exclaimed. “It’s Christmas Eve!”

He heaved himself back up onto his seat, sliding his hand along the back of the couch. In an attempt to lean towards her, he slipped, turning his intended peck on the lips into a lingering kiss. She was warm and eager. He was quick to discover that he was too. Soon they were entwined in a passionate exchange of increasingly desperate hungers. 

When she ran her hand across his back and pulled him closer, he found himself unwilling to say no.

****

Chris awoke to the warmth of the morning sun on his face and the dull pounding of his head. Groaning, he turned his eyes from the light and shut them tighter. His hand brushed against a soft naked form beneath the blanket. Puzzled at first, he ventured a look, seeing a mess of fine red hair before him. All at once, the memories of their exploits came flooding back to him.

He froze with alarm, carefully removing his hand from her back, praying that she didn’t wake. How could he have been so stupid? He put his fingers to his throbbing temple. He knew exactly how he could’ve been so stupid. He felt a wave of nausea but couldn’t be certain if it was the hangover, or the sinking pit of dread his stomach had become. If anyone found out… He carefully shuffled backwards, keeping an eye on her sleeping form. He hoped to find his clothes and get out before she noticed.

As he moved, his eyes were drawn to something behind her. A large mirror above a dressing table, with a number of photographs taped to the wooden frame. One in particular drew his attention. It was of a man, clearly unhappy. His face was contorted with rage, one hand shooting out towards the camera, as if to grab it and throw it aside. Chris moved to the one next to it. A similar scene, but the eyes were now black holes, as if burnt out with a lit cigarette. A third had been torn to shreds, then reformed and crudely taped together. Others were unblemished. Most subjects seemed unaware they’d been photographed.

He reached back with a trembling hand, feeling for the edge of the bed, afraid to take his eyes off the pictures, or her. Finding it, he slowly and carefully swung his legs around to move to a sitting position. It was then that he caught sight of the bed’s frame where his feet had been, forgetting for a moment to take a breath. That was a lot of bondage paraphernalia. Ropes, ties, and more than one pair of handcuffs, all wrapped or otherwise attached to some part of the overloaded frame. At least he hoped they were for playful purposes. All bets were off on guessing their purpose at this point. Not that he really wanted to know. 

            Looking around the room he saw beyond the bed was yet another mirror, this one massive and precariously perched on an old wooden dresser. There were more photos, like the others, dozens in fact, decorating its borders. Some spilled out to the interior, others to the wall above. She’d taken red lipstick, or paint to some, cancelling their existence with angry red X’s. Three had suffered worse fates, stabbed with knives, skewered into place, high above the rest, as if serving as a warning to the others.

The dresser itself was crammed with an assortment of things. Some, like a hairbrush or empty cup were innocent, but others, like a bottle clearly labelled as ether or a powerful looking taser were not. 

Next to him, on the bedside table was another one of those strange dolls like he’d seen in the front hall, except this one had been pierced with a host of red-tipped pins. Looking around, he found more of them propped on, or stuffed into various places, some hanging from little nooses.

The urgency to leave screamed its alarm to every part of him. He was happy to oblige, rising to his feet. He scanned the floor, looking for his clothes, noting a discarded condom wrapper. He blew out a shuddering sigh of relief. Thank God for that. The sound of his loud exhalation had caused her to stir. Horrified he grabbed a pillow, covering his shame. 

She turned over to greet him, lazing in the comfort of the warm bed and the bright morning sun. ‘’Hey there,” she smiled, a look of contentment brightening her face. 

“You stay the hell away from me!” he shouted, trying to mask his fear with an assertive tone.

She furrowed her brow in puzzlement. “What’s gotten into you?’’

His eyes darted back to the display.

“Oh, that. That’s just my collection.”

“Of what??” he cried, much louder than intended. The last thing he wanted was to set her off. Stay calm, he repeated to himself. Don’t overact, don’t judge and for God’s sake, don’t sound threatening.

She looked over at the assortment of photos and curios and smiled with a touch of amusement.

“Did, did you hurt them?” he stammered. He needed her to say no, to give him a reason to walk away from this.

“Why would I hurt them?” she replied, rather confused.

“So this is…?”

“I just thought they were cute,” she said matter-of-factly, as if this was a perfectly normal pastime. Just a girly thing.

“And…” he said, pointing to the ones that’d been mangled.

“They weren’t cute anymore,” she said, a deadly rage briefly flashing in her eyes. 

“What… what did you do to them?”

Now she seemed genuinely baffled. “Nothing. I just took a picture.”

Chris looked at the pictures then back at her in disbelief. What she shrugged off as ‘normal’ looked like some sort of offense to him. What had she been doing to elicit the responses he saw? The ones that were unaware he might excuse, but what about the ones in wide-eyed terror? Or the few enraged, captured with fists in full swing. She’d driven them to violence, but by doing or saying what? She claimed they were just snapshots, and he wanted to believe it, but that’s not what he saw. What could he do? If he reported it, he’d have to admit to the severe lapse in judgement. It could get him fired, or worse. Was it worth it? Had she done something wrong enough to warrant him losing everything?

He shakily pointed at the items on the dresser. “Wh-What’s that taser for?” he asked hoping for an innocent answer.

She followed his indication and laughed. “Oh that! I don’t actually use that on anyone. It’s um, it’s for my own… uh, ever zapped yourself on a lower setting?” she giggled, as if referring to a naughty first-time purchase from an adult’s only shop.

He gave her an incredulous look. Was she really suggesting…?

She bit her bottom lip in an attempt at coy seductiveness. “I can show you if you like.” 

He recoiled in horror. He had absolutely no interest whatsoever in whatever the hell she actually did with that. Tearing his eyes from her evidently growing interest, he pointed his finger once again. “The ether?” he said, his voice breaking on the second word.

Her smile turned positively wicked. “Now that stuff’s just fun!”

His mind raced, desperately needing to believe her. “You’re telling me that not one thing in here is what it looks like? You didn’t hurt, or are planning to hurt anyone?” 

She grew quiet, her smile disappearing. “No,” she replied. “But some of them hurt me.”

Every instinct wanted to find a lie in her statement, but her eyes said she was telling the truth.

“I, I need to go,” he stammered, starting to back away.

Her smile returned as she settled back into the bed, wrapping the blankets around her. “I know.” 

He felt confused. Why wasn’t she stopping him? Trying to drag him back? Wailing in broken-hearted despair? She’d reacted far worse to much less in the past 12 hours or so.

“I, I can go?”

She propped herself up on one elbow looking at him strangely. “Is there some reason you can’t?”

He felt dumfounded, unsure how to respond. “Uh, my clothes.”

“I think they’re in the other room.”

He wanted dearly to get out of there but that meant turning his back. Experience suggested she couldn’t be trusted to keep a single mood for long. How soon would he find a knife between his shoulder blades?

She toyed with the blanket with hopeful eyes. “If you ever, you know, need some companionship.”

He gave her an incredulous look, at a complete loss for words. “Well, you know where I am.” He started backing out the door, waiting for her inevitable turn.

“Oh, and thank you,” she called good-naturedly.

“For what?” stopping briefly with hesitancy turning his head to face her.

Her smile was as bright as the morning sun. “For the best Christmas gift ever!” 

He could leave it at that. He could definitely leave it at that. With great, and immediate haste.