Merry Christmas, Baby.

I waited for Billy to come home. It was the last Monday before the Holidays and Elmore had told me there was no point in hanging out at the Corner since it was dead there. He had managed to talk Jade into going with him to a movie. He knew Ryan almost too well, and he was convinced that it was time for Jade to do something other than wait for him to show up. That and the fact that Bill had told him to make himself scarce for the evening had served to convince him to find something to do with himself, and to take Jade with him if she would agree to go along. So they had gone to a second run theatre to see 'Something About Mary'. Jade had been rolling her eyes even before they got out the door. I'd called Chez Suzette and ordered a meal, gone to pick it up and was busy getting it ready when Bill got in.

Billy:  Hey, baby.

He caught me in the kitchen, slipped a rock-solid arm around my waist
and pulled me up into a wet, warm kiss.  I was left breathless when he
released me, as suddenly as he had grabbed me up.  I sagged against the
counter and he swatted me lightly across the bottom.

Deb:  My word...holy...what's my word.  Go on, sit down...I've got your
supper here.

He smirked at me when he caught me fanning myself, then went in and sat
down at the table.

Billy:  What the hell, candles?  You don't want me to know what you're 
feedin' me?

I made a mock grumbling noise.

Deb:  You did it for Beth once.  You can do it for me.

Billy was still grinning, making growling and barking sounds at me.  I
laughed out loud, grinned back.  His good humor was infectious.

Billy:  C'mon, I'll eat in the dark.  

I brought him the salad - they'd sent appetizers as well, but Elmore
had found them before he left.  Billy cast a jaundiced eye on the table
setting, then seized the correct fork and went to work.  For a minute I
pictured him, seated at a formal banquet, wearing dress whites, officer
material in every fibre.  But I decided to stop at the mental image.  He
wouldn't thank me for bringing it up.

Billy:  Not bad...where'd ya get this shit?

I pinched my eyes shut and surpressed a guffaw.  Only Billy would ask
about the food with that particular combination of terms and see nothing
out of line.  It was one of the many reasons I worshiped the ground he
walked on, the almost unconscious slaughter of the King's English.  There
was nothing sacred to Billy, not even his mode of expression.

Deb:  Chez Suzette got it ready for me.  I just went and picked it up.

Billy:  Hmmm...was there one time.

Deb:  Have a roll.

I tossed a hard roll down the table at him and he deftly caught it.

Billy:  You don't forget a damn thing, do ya?

Deb:  Nope.

He bounced the roll off my head, I wasn't nearly as quick or graceful as
he was.

Deb:  You done with that?

Billy:  Never had much time for mulch, sure, take it away.

I took the remains of the salads to the kitchen and dumped them.  The
prime rib was waiting, the bearnaise sauce warm.  The sous chef had tried to
explain to me how to display the food attractively on the plate, and how to
drizzle the bearnaise onto the meat in a pleasing pattern but he was dealing
with someone only marginally more concerned than Billy with the appearance
of food on a plate, and Billy cared about as much about that as a fish
might for a bicycle.  I was always reminded of the scene in that abominable
film, Tommy carving off great hunks of rare beef and flinging them across
the room at his compadres.  That wasn't too far from the truth.

Billy:  More like it.

I'd added a few of the potatoes they'd supplied, those miniature things
that barely looked big enough to qualify as spuds and some of the steamed
asparagus with shallots.  Asparagus and goofy onions?  This was going to
be interesting, I told myself.  Billy waited until I served myself before
going to work.

Billy:  Dessert?  Need somethin' sweet.

God, what a wonderful excuse!  I trundled the asparagus off to the
kitchen without so much as touching it.  I noticed that Billy had inhaled
his portion.  He must have been hungry.  I got the miniscule slices of 
cheesecake things with some sort of Grand Marnier stuff to dribble on
them out of the fridge and brought them to the dining room.  I finally
remembered the champagne and made a second trip with that.

Billy made short shrift of the cheesecake thingy, licked his fork once to
get the last of the expensive syrup off of it, and pushed the plate away.
He cracked the wine open with a practiced flip of the wrist and poured a
glass.

Billy:  What'n hell ya bring me a glass for?

Deb:  'Cause once in a while I see you usin' one.

One eyebrow shot toward the hairline and he grinned again.  What
did the boy have up his sleeve...?  He sloshed champagne into the second
glass, then carried the first one down to my end of the table.

Billy:  Drink with me, baby?

Deb:  Wanna twist your arm through mine?

Billy:  Sure.  Then I'll dump this expensive grape juice down the front of
your shirt...'n then I'll have t'go...shit, I don't know...lick it off.

Deb:  Apparently you want me to dump it on myself.

Billy:  Won't argue with that, baby. 

He clicked the leading edge of his glass against mine.

Billy:  T'livin' the way we wanna.

The smile...the dark eyes glittering with fun and something else...I was
completely lost.  I'd been planning on making some kind of wiseass remark
in keeping with what I had been anticipating, but I was unable to think of
a single thing to say.

Deb:  To years...as many as we can manage.

Billy drank deeply, I was only able to manage a sip.  It felt like my
throat had closed up.

Billy:  You ready to go do this?

This?...Oh...

Deb:  Any time...just let me get the dishes cleaned up.

Mr. Spit and Polish Barracks Resident had no problem with that action,
so he took the expensive grape juice to the living room while I loaded up
the wheezing old dishwasher and started it up.  I was going to have to 
replace the thing soon, it was on its last legs...thankfully both Billy
and Elmore insisted I pay myself well out of the Corner's operating fund.
I would be able to do the dirty deed without asking Billy for money.  When
I joined him, he had fished three tiny packages out from under the tree.
One sat on his knee, and two were on the coffeetable next to my glass.  Two
packages...uh-oh.  My chintzy-meter went off.  I sat down, eyeing the two
little packages as though expecting them to explode momentarily.

Billy:  You wanna go first, or should I?

I shrugged, my throat closed again.  My eyes felt unnaturally huge in 
my face, and I had a feeling of impending emotional overload.

Billy:  Okay, okay...I'll go first.

He shook his head as he tore the wrapping paper off the little box and
sent the lid flying.  He lifted the white gold chain slowly until he
eventually revealed the key.  The jeweler I'd bought the chain from had
polished the key...but it was still a .98 key hanging from a solid gold
chain.  Suddenly I felt unbelievably stupid.  He studied it for a minute,
then laughed softly.

Billy:  It's my damn basement key.

Deb:  Yeah, the basement key.  Your basement key.

The stupidity quotient was rising like a Tomahawk missile.  I grinned
bashfully down at my hands to cover up the feelings of inadequacy.  He
saw my sudden shyness, the man never missed a thing, and smiled gently.

Billy:  Oh, you don't think I can put two and two together.  This is my
basement key that you stole that got the Dawg on my case...and
you in my life.

Deb:  I never stole it!  It fell out of your jacket one of those times you
came up to hassel me about those goofy interviews.  I just thought...

I stopped, reached out with a hand that was thankfully steady, batted the
key hanging on the end of the chain...

Billy:  Just thought what?

His voice had dropped a notch, down into that dangerous register that I
had no resistance whatever against.  He slipped the chain over his head,
picked up the key, and dropped it inside his shirt.  He reached out with a
big hand, took one of mine.  His simple acceptance moved me to more feats
of incomprehensibility.

Deb:  I just...just wanted you to have something...to remind you...

Billy:  Don't need t'be reminded...can't forget.It's cold.  Maybe you 
better warm it up.

The voice was still down there.  He grinned, slipped my hand up under
his shirt and pressed it against his warm skin, with the key between his
chest and my palm.  I moved my fingers, minute caresses, and had to drop
my eyes again.  There was something in Billy's face that he rarely allowed
himself to show and never talked about.  Better not to look it in the eye -
the sight of it was liable to be overwhelming.

Billy:  Your turn, baby.  This one first.

He chose one of the two little packages and laid it on my knee.  I
stared stupidly at it.

Billy:  G'wan...

He reached across the couch, poked me in the shoulder.  I was looking
down at the package because it was a way to keep from looking at him.  He
dropped his head down, trying to move into my line of sight and smiling in
an utterly disarming fashion.  Then he reached across and grabbed the back
of my neck with teasing fingers.

Billy:  Come on, come on, come on...

Finally I undid the paper and opened the box.  A tiny silver horse
depended from a delicate chain.

Deb:  Billy...it's lovely.

Billy:  Bend y'head, baby.

I did as instructed, feeling his big fingers under my hair, working the
clasp of the chain and fastening it beside the chain that held the ring
I'd not taken off since he slipped it back around my neck the second time.
He tossed the second box at me, grinned mischieviously and leaned into the
couch with his arms stretched across the back, watching me.  My fumbling
efforts revealed a key.  I stared at him, quizzically.

Deb:  What...?

He leaned toward me and laid an arm across my shoulders, bringing those
dark eyes to within inches of mine.  I was caught up in them.

Billy:  It's the key to your house, baby.  Your new house.

Deb:  My...my what?  My house?  I'm confused...why would I need a new house,
this one is fine.

Billy smiled rather gently and kissed me on the head.

Billy:  You're always tellin' me this place is too small an' lately I hafta
agree...besides...it seems more like my house.  This'll be our
house.

He gestured at the key in my hand.  My voice caught in my throat, which
was doing its closing trick again.

Deb:  Our...?  Oh, Billy...I...excuse me...

I jumped up, away from those beautiful eyes, and ran to the bathroom.  I
would be better able to fight back the tears he hated in privacy.  I leaned
against the counter, breathing deeply, staring at the key battling with the
urge to dissolve.

Billy:  Place was a horse ranch.

I looked up to find him standing in the bathroom door, leaning against
the doorframe with unconcscious grace.  I clutched the key tightly.

Deb:  But why...why...?

Billy stepped into the bathroom, decided to brave the impending squall.
He slipped his comforting arms around my waist and pulled me in.

Billy:  Couplea reasons.  The rancher.  I know 'im, we served together in
'Nam.  Bank was foreclosin' on him and' he was tryin' t'get out from under
the whole thing.  So I...pulled together some money and bought 'im out.
And besides...

He put his finger under my chin, raised my head to look at him.

Billy:  ...it was time.

Time?  What did he mean, time?  I thought about it, but decided that it
could wait. I was already a mess.

Deb:  That's one reason...

I fingered the little silver horse.

Billy:  That's two reasons, goof.  The previous owner...and you.

I was definitely going to stay clear of that one until I was under
better control.  I laid my head on his shoulder and caressed his back.

Deb:  That's very sweet of you to help an old friend, Billy.  But me?  I
didn't need a new place.  I'd live in a refrigerator box, if you wanted me
to.  Not that I don't appreciate it...you never fail to surprise me...

He squeezed my waist hard enough to make me gasp.

Billy:  You better rest.  You got a lotta movin' t'do.

My breathing steadied.  Just as I could always count on Billy to do 
something spectacular...a new house for Christmas, stealing a battleship...
I could also count on him to make sure I didn't go overboard.

Deb:  No rest for the wicked, I suppose.  When you gonna show me Rancho
Strannix?  This what you've been cookin' up with Beth?  I'll bet Sam just
loves it all...clean on the other end of town...

I tugged his head down to mine, and he accepted the invitation for a 
lengthy kiss.  Finally I had to pull away for air.

Billy:  Yeah, the pipsqueak knew about it.  Been callin' her on her cell,
runnin' this idea by her.  Knew she'd be straight with me if she thought
it was stupid.  Guess we can run out there tomorrow sometime...

Deb:  No hurry...did you have any other festivities in mind for the evening?

I rubbed his chest lightly, feeling the key, feeling the steady beat of
his heart.  He grinned down at me, goofy humor instantly restored.

Billy:  You  know I love t'do this...

He bent, reached, and scooped me up in his arms.

Billy:  Say goodnight, Gracie.

Deb:  Goodnight, Gracie.

He headed for the bedroom and I laid my head against his neck...allowing
a few unspecified somethings to wet his shirt along the way.

TO BE CONTINUED....