Chapter 20

Christmas passed quickly — too quickly — with presents and dinners and long, quiet walks and general dating fun. They ate out, went bowling, hung out with Lotty and her friends, hung out on their own and caught up with a few old friends — Shawna's friends mainly — from school.

He gave her the ear-rings he'd bought her for Christmas, thankful that he'd taken the time to pack them before he left. She tried — futilely — to convince him she'd bought him his present before they'd left; he knew from experience that she never bought presents until the three days before Christmas, loving to rush through the packed streets.

They spent Christmas morning with their separate families, then met up for the afternoon, spending the remainder of the day down by the stream, lying close, kissing and touching, and generally being together.

Shawna's horniness was slowly cranking up. She'd watched him set off for his run that morning, from her bedroom as he went passed, and saw him come back hot and sweaty a half-hour later looking wonderful. His hair had grown longer, slightly unkempt especially after he'd been sweating his way around the town, and she dressed and trekked round to his house. She had to invite him to a New Year's Eve party — which she knew he'd be reluctant about — and thought she'd start early.

When she arrived, though, he was in the yard, working through his martial-arts regime. She knew he did it in the mornings, but it was the first time she'd been up early enough to watch, and she was mesmerised.

Ally came out with a cup of tea for her, and he carried on oblivious, spinning and dancing through the sequences like an acrobat. He jumped, kicked, punched, weaved and flitted through the lot, and she couldn't believe anything human could look so good.

"He's incredible..." she whispered, and Ally nodded.

"He is good. Better than Nick."

"Nick does this?"

"Something similar... to hear Nick tell it, this style isn't for him, he's the wrong shape? Whatever that means."

"It means," Marcus interjected, slowing to a halt, settling into his stance with a comfortable familiarity, "that Nick's heavier-set than I am, and my centre of gravity's too high to concentrate on the throws and ground-work he likes."

"And I don't have the agility to jump like that, either..." Nick put in, with a smile, from the porch.

"Oh, right, that... yeah..." Shawna nodded, feigning understanding. "Of course."

"Which is better?" Ally asked.

"Depends on the man." Marcus replied, instantly.

"Which in this case means him." Nick admitted, the pride evident on his face. "I'm too slow, and too out of shape, and even when I wasn't, it didn't come as naturally to me as it does him."

"Come on," Ally chivvied them inside. "Breakfast's nearly ready. You staying, Shawna?"

"If that's OK?"

"Sure."

"I need a shower first." Marcus put in.

"You can sit down hot and sweaty by me, if you like?" Shawna offered, forcing a swallow out of Marcus as he almost tripped up the steps.

"You're shameless." Ally nudged her shoulder, as they entered, and Marcus fled up the stairs.

"You're a bit full on..." Nick agreed, a little more cautiously, as he sat at the table, trying to strike the balance between lecturing and not being overbearing.

"Oh shut up, Nick." Ally flung her arms around him, squeezing his shoulders. "You thought I was a bit full on at first... I soon loosened you up."

"I know, but..."

"Marcus isn't made of china, either... he'll survive." Ally unwrapped herself, and winked at Shawna. "Probably." She couldn't help but laugh, and Nick smiled too.

"I worry, I'm sorry."

"I'm going to try my level best not to hurt him, Nick." She assured him, sitting next to him. "Really... I know you don't think much of me, which is my fault, but... I like him. I really like him, in a way I haven't really felt for anyone else."

"That's the first time you've admitted that, isn't it?" Ally asked, putting the plates down, cutting across Nick as he was about to speak. "And you," she looked up at Nick, "I know what you're thinking, and you need to be very, very careful how you phrase it."

"I know..." he nodded, looking back at the stairs as the sound of the shower started up. "Shawna... I don't think badly of you, really I don't. I think you've made some unwise choices, sure... ones that you should probably have seen coming. I... it hurts me that you've overlooked Marcus for so long, too... What worries me most of all, though, is that every day you're here you tell us all the things that are your fault, all the things you've done wrong, all the bad things about you, like you're trying to convince us to step in and stop this."

"You do..." Ally confirmed, stirring the eggs, not looking back. "And you're doing much, much better than I expected, honey. Extra bacon for you..." He smiled, shook his head gently as the seriousness of the conversation just drained away.

"Marcus likes you — maybe even loves you as much as he thinks he does — and he's a good judge of character when he actually goes out on a limb and makes a judgement. If you were that unworthy, he'd see it, and he doesn't. So if he doesn't, and we don't... why do you?" She didn't have an answer, and before she could find one — it seemed like seconds but obviously wasn't — Marcus was back and settled down to breakfast apparently oblivious.

Once they'd finished, outside the house and watching the shadows on the lawn in the last morning of the year, nestled together on the swinging seat in the garden, she asked him what he thought.

"Of you?"

"Yeah, what do you think about me?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean?"

"Neither am I?" she confessed, cuddling in.

"Did Ally speak to you this morning?"

"And Nick, why?"

"Ah."

"What?"

"They were talking about it last night — I don't think they thought I could hear."

"What were they saying?"

"Well... Ally thinks you have 'self-esteem issues', she's been talking to one of her friends who's a counsellor, looking for advice on how to help you... us? Nick things you're basically too good a person for the situations you've found yourself in. Personally, I'm with Nick."

"I don't get it." She squeezed him for the compliment anyway.

"Well... the psychologists and psychiatrists and psychotherapists — all the psycho's, really — they all want to classify me as a syndrome and say that I'm something wrong. It's... my personality doesn't fit their world-view, so I must be an aberration — I don't have much time for that way of thinking, obviously."

"That's why you're with Nick's point of view? Because you don't like psychology?"

"No, not just that. Look... Nick taught me the difference between good people and bad people a long time ago. Bad people have a tendency to blame situations on other things, regardless of whether it's their fault or not, because they're looking out for themselves first and foremost, and they don't want the guilt. Good people have a tendency to take the blame for bad things, regardless of whether it's their fault or not, because they feel guilty that they didn't stop it happening.

You feel like all the bad things that happen around you are your fault — whether they happen to you or to someone else, whether you had a hand in them or not — because you don't like to see people get hurt.

When... On the hill, with Connor. Part of you stepped in because you didn't want him to get hurt any more for what you thought was your fault. I hated you for that, right then, standing up for him, but... but it's a big part of you, and it's a part that I like, most of the time. Just because it doesn't agree with me every single time doesn't mean I shouldn't accept it. That was wrong of me."

"I'm not sorry you hit him, you know." She confirmed, remembering the way he'd been that evening, and pressing her legs together at the thought.

"Me neither. It was all I could do not to punch him every time I saw him before that... I just... he gave me an excuse, when he took a swing, and it all came out."

"You're going to have to keep it in check when we get back. I don't know if you'll have driven him off or not, but there's still the courts to worry about... you don't need any more trouble."

"I know... I'll manage."

"So... what are you up to tonight?"

"Tonight? Not much, why?"

"It's New Year's Eve, you must have been invited to a party somewhere."

"Nope. Never happened before, why should it happen now."

"Because, party-virgin, you're my boyfriend now."

"I like the sound of that." He mumbled, nuzzling her neck, and she giggled, squirming away, even as she pressed her legs tighter together. If they didn't move soon she was going to start dripping.

"So, we need to go shopping."

"We do? Why?"

"The party."

"You need another dress?"

"No!... Well, yes... but... you need something, to."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Chantelle invited us to her house for their bash, and she said I could bring my boyfriend, when I asked."

"Chantelle Cripps?"

"Yeah."

"She's not in your usual crowd..."

"I don't have a usual crowd round here, any more."

"Alright, but she wasn't, either."

"No, but..."

"But she's more likely to be amenable to having me around than any of the people that were in your crowd."

"I know we hung with different crowds at school — you wouldn't have been comfortable with Amy and Helen and Jimmy and their bonfire down on the beach."

"I didn't have a crowd at school... You brushed them off, didn't you?"

"Amy... yeah."

"Did you tell them why?"

"Sort of..."

"Sort of?"

"I was going to say yes, but... they didn't want you there. They knew why I said no."

"Oh."

"I wasn't going to tell you..."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want to guilt trip you into coming to Chantelle's..."

"You know I probably won't feel very comfortable there, either."

"Maybe... maybe we can loosen you up a little."

"I'll... I'll try."

"You will!" She squealed, jumping off the seat so quickly he almost fell off the back as it swung. "I thought it'd take me all day to convince you."

"For you... I'll try it."

"Let me go tell Ally — she owes me a tenner for this, by the way — and then we can head into town to get some stuff."

"Ally owes you ten pounds?"

"She said there was no way I'd get a yes before lunch."

"Oh."

"Nick owes me fifty — he said there was no way I'd get you to say yes at all." She danced up the path, and he watched her with his usual smile, scared to death on the inside at the very prospect.

Shopping was a curious mixture of heaven and nightmare. He hated the press of the mall, especially at this time of year, with the sales on, and the wilted memorials of Christmas still barely clinging to festivity in the middle of it all.

Clothes shopping wasn't like this. You went in, found your size on the rack, bought three of what you needed, and left. Simple... until Shawna joined in.

They checked out the first shop, and found three things she liked — and a handful of things he'd quite happily have bought and then gone home with — but she put them all back and headed into the next shop.

"I thought you liked the black one."

"I did. Did you?"

"Yeah, I thought it was nice."

"Nice?"

"Um... good? It looked good on you. Everything looks good on you."

"Right..."

"It does."

"I believe you — you aren't impartial, but I believe you."

"So... why are we going to the next place?"

"They might have something better."

"Why not just get the nice dress and be done?"

"Because that's not how you shop."

"Yes it is."

"Alright then, it's not how I shop... now hold this while I go try on these shoes." Six shops later and he'd already passed by more t-shirts than he'd bought in his life, and had to turn down lilac shirt after lilac shirt pressed up against him, complete with frills, stripes, patterns and all sorts.

"Pink, again? Why is it all pink or purple?"

"It's lilac," she corrected, "and it goes well with your eyes."

"So does black." He pointed out. "T-shirts."

"Are you going to turn this into our first official fight, or are you going to trust me?"

"Princess, I love you... but... purple? Please... I can tolerate black, really I can."

"Alright... we'll look for black. But with a collar..." He grumbled, but conceded, wondering what was happening to him. Nick was going to have kittens — him in a collar.

"Alright, hold these." So far she had a pair of shoes to show for their troubles, and she disappeared into the changing room in an attempt to add to that. He stood around, feeling more than a little uncomfortable stuck in the no-man's land between frilly underwear and ladies shoes, but kept his head down and kept breathing until she suddenly returned, unchanged.

"Didn't fit?" he asked.

"Fitted perfectly." She confirmed.

"You aren't going to show?"

"You'll see it tonight, when it's done properly."

"If you were going to do that... Why did you show me all the others if you knew you weren't going to get them?"

"I showed you others, Marcus, to find out what you liked — I'd see what you were looking at, and then look for more dresses with those bits. You liked bits and pieces from most of the shops... so I leave it to your imagination what it's like..." She smiled, pecked his cheek, and strolled off towards the counter, her bum waving invitingly in her tight jeans as she went. "Are you coming?"

"Oh..." he managed, and followed. It was still another four shops before she found something she liked well enough - that he could tolerate - for him to wear.

"Looking sharp." Nick observed as he reached the bottom of the stairs, which earned him a sour look.

"Don't be nasty." Ally flung the tea-towel at him, and turned to lean on the counter. "Did you actually bother bringing the comb anywhere near your hair?"

"And I was being nasty?" Nick chuckled, moving to the wet dishes.

"Come here." Ally beckoned him, grasping the brush from the mantelpiece. "Let me see what I can do with this... you need a haircut." She tugged the brush through it, struggling. "What the hell have you got in this?"

"I don't know... some gloopy stuff Shawna made me get this afternoon." Nick and Ally shared a look at that — 'gloopy' was one of Marcus' words for textures he didn't like to have near him.

"And you put gloopy stuff in your hair for her..." Ally observed, with a smile. "It's that serious."

"Yeah... yeah it is." He scowled, not sure they weren't just poking fun at him.

"Well, first off, don't be so caught up in it being that serious that you forget to have fun." She reminded him, with a reassuring smile. "And second, go and scrape all the gloopy stuff back out of your hair, and bring the rest down here so I can do it properly."

"The rest?"

"You used it all?"

"Well I wasn't going to use it again..." Nick almost dropped the plate he was drying, and put the cloth down. "I'll go get some of mine..." he chuckled, as Marcus took over dragging the brush through his own hair, sending dried flakes into the air in clouds as he did.

Ten minutes later, with a bit of good-natured ribbing from the pair of them, they had his hair presentable, and Ally dragged him back to the full-length mirror in the hallway.

"There, what do you see?"

"Me."

"Right... And?"

"Alright, me in a stupid bloody shirt, with gloop in my hair." Ally laid a calming hand on his shoulder, peering at him from alongside his arm.

"You look good in that shirt. It shows off your physique — you keep forgetting that you have one — at least you don't slouch so much any more. The gel lets you do something with your hair other than hiding behind in... the trousers show off your shape, too — they accentuate your broad shoulders and narrow hips."

"Ally!"

"I'm a woman, Marcus, we know these things. Trust me, you look good."

"Do I look good, too?" He turned away from the mirror at Shawna's voice, and stopped stunned in the hallway.

Her hair shone, tucked up behind her head in a big winding spiral except for two winding tendrils just before her ears. Her eyes were huge, sparkling, twinkling green behind even bigger eyelashes, and the ear-rings he'd gotten her for Christmas swung just clear of her bare shoulders.

The dress was pink, wrapped around the upper part of her arms and sat tightly around her bust, cupping her breasts and drawing attention to the deep-green amulet on the necklace that settled into her cleavage. Slit high up one side, it didn't go far down the other, showing off her long, trim legs, and as she spun he saw that it clung to each and every curve like a second skin.

"Oh, Princess... wow..." he breathed, and she squealed.

"I'll take that as a yes." She giggled, and spun for them again, clutching tightly at the matching purse in her hand.

"Hell yes." He finally managed, any reservations he felt just drained away at the sight of her.

"Well, you kids have a good time." Ally told them, as Nick piled along the hallway to see them off.

"Go, have fun. We'll still be up when you get back, so don't be afraid to make some noise."

"Thanks. Later..." he called to them, and they set off down the hall. "You're going to freeze in that." He pointed out, and she clutched at his arm.

"I have a coat, and if it gets too chilly I'll just wrap myself around you, you never get cold."

It wasn't far, so they were walking, and Marcus slipped into place beside her slipping his hand into hers.

"Hang on," she said, dipping into her purse and pulling out a hip-flask. "Want some?"

"No!" he stopped, a little shocked.

"What? It's a party... loosen up."

"I don't want to be that loose... do you?"

"It makes things easier."

"Do you need it?"

"Need? No, of course not."

"Then don't."

"Why?"

"Because I think I'd be insulted if I felt you found it easier to make it through an evening with me by drinking."

"Is that what you think?"

"You've been to parties before."

"I usually drink at them, too."

"Does everyone?"

"I doubt it."

"If you don't enjoy the parties, why go?"

"I do enjoy them."

"But you need to drink first?"

"No, not need... it... it helps. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Don't be like that..."

"Like what?"

"Defensive. I'm not trying to force you. I'm asking you... please?"

"OK." She screwed the top back on, shoving it into her purse a little hesitantly.

"I'm sorry... I just... I'm going to need you tonight."