What Are You Doing
New Year’s Eve?
Part Two
Jixemitri CWP #4
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Much later that afternoon… With great difficulty,
Jim and Trixie managed to prepare some sandwiches and heat up some chili for
lunch. After lunch, they settled on the loveseat in the living room to watch
a movie. Trixie flipped
through the channels on the television. “There’s nothing on,” she complained. “Whoa!” Jim
yelled in excitement. “Go back to HBO! ‘Hot Babes in Cold Places’ was on!” Trixie snorted.
“I’m not watching that. Besides,
didn’t you already watch that Christmas night?” Jim glared at
Trixie. “We tried to watch it;
however, the ending was interrupted.” “Really?” she asked
innocently. “Don’t play innocent with me, Trixie
Belden! You know darn well that you changed the channel on us.” “We did not!” she insisted. “We have no idea
what happened to your stupid movie. We were already in bed by then. Just ask
Miss Trask.” Jim began fidgeting and looked away. Trixie grinned in
satisfaction. “Something tells me you already did ask Miss Trask.” Jim shuffled his feet and tried to avoid
answering the question. “Tell me, Jim, did
you ask Miss Trask?” Jim muttered something under his breath. “What was that? I didn’t hear you.” “We asked Miss Trask!” he bellowed. “She
said when she checked on you at “A-ha!” Trixie exclaimed triumphantly. “I told you it wasn’t us!” Jim sulked. “Well, if it wasn’t you, I’d
like to know who did it.” “Maybe it was that slob who broke his TV
after you messed with his channels,” she suggested with a giggle. Jim continued
to pout, determined not to say another word about it. However, a few minutes later,
Trixie was still laughing. “What?” he asked in exasperation. “Nothing!”
Trixie gasped, trying to control her laughter. It was no use. She finally
collapsed in the floor in a giggling mess, her left arm in the air, anchored
to Jim. Unable to help
himself, Jim began chuckling, too. “What is it, Trix?” “We might have a little info about what happened to
your movie,” Trixie whispered. “I knew you
changed the channel!” Jim exploded. “We did not!”
she yelled. However, soon she was overcome in another fit of giggles. “But we
were going to,” she added impulsively. Jim began
tickling her. “You’d better talk, Belden, or I’m gonna
tickle the pee out of you!” “Stop! Stop!”
Trixie gasped. “May I remind you that I’m chained to you, so you’ll have to
smell my uriney pajamas all day?” Jim
momentarily stopped his torture, and helped Trixie back onto the loveseat.
“We were going to sneak to the Farm to switch your channels,” she admitted. “But
Regan heard us outside, and made us go home.” “Then who---”
Jim scratched his chin. Suddenly, it all became crystal clear. “Regan did
it?! That no good so and so!” Trixie wasn’t sure, but she thought that maybe
she saw steam pouring out of Jim’s ears. “What’s wrong?”
she nervously asked. “Didn’t you
hear what happened?” Jim practically screamed. “No.” Jim took a deep
breath. “After our channel switched, we assumed it was you girls. We put our
shoes and coats on and ran outside. We were gonna
catch you and dump you in the deepest snow banks we could find. But, as we
were running up to the Manor House, Regan caught us. He yelled at us for
waking up the neighborhood, and made us muck out the stalls for the next
three days!” As hard as she
tried, Trixie could not contain her giggles. She almost fell in the floor
again, but Jim flexed his arm muscle firm, so she just dangled precariously
above the ground. Suddenly, he dropped his arm and Trixie crashed to the
floor. “Hey, what did
you do that for?” she asked. “We didn’t know Regan did that, honest!” She
looked up at Jim, who had a desperate expression on his face. “Jim, what’s wro---” Trixie stopped mid-sentence when a horrid odor
practically suffocated her. “Omigosh! What’s that
smell?” From the floor, she used her free hand to pull the neck of her pajama
tee over her nose. “Do you smell
something?” Jim questioned innocently. “I don’t smell anything.” “It smells like
Mart after he comes back from Taco Bell!” Trixie moaned. “It smells like… JIM!
YOU DIDN’T!!!” “I couldn’t
help it!” he pleaded. “Your mom’s chili is potent!” “You could have
at least warned me!” Trixie yelled with tears in her eyes. “With those
‘silent but deadly killers’, you’re entitled to give an emergency bulletin or
something!” “Sorry,” Jim
apologized. “I couldn’t help it.” “Brian and
Mart, I can understand!” she gasped. “But you’re supposed to be a gentleman!”
Jim shrugged.
“Even gentlemen have to let one loose every now and again. Usually, I go to
the bathroom when I’m around you and the other girls, but with rule number
three and all…” Trixie
uncovered her nose to test the atmosphere, but quickly covered it again. “Why
do guys do that? That’s so gross!” “Same reason girls
use cotton balls,” Jim retorted with a smirk. “Ugh… That’s
almost as bad as the time Mart and Brian locked themselves in their rooms
after Moms made pinto beans for dinner, and had a contest to see who could
rip off the smelliest flatulent,” Trixie said in disgust. Jim chuckled.
“I suppose Mart won.” Trixie shook
her head and grinned. “Actually, it ended in a tie. Moms made them quit. She
was worried they would get carbon monoxide poisoning. When they opened their
bedroom door… Whoo-eee! Smelled worse than the
stables.” Trixie and Jim
were still laughing when they heard the back door slam shut. Minutes later,
Mart and Dan plopped down on the couch. “Why don’t you
sit over here with us men, Jim?” Dan asked with a devilish grin. “Methinks your
repose may be more advantageous if you could perchance lounge on this
colossal sectional,” Mart added with a twinkle in his blue eyes. Jim stared
daggers through Dan and Mart. “I assume you saw Bobby in the kitchen.” Mart scratched
his chin thoughtfully. “Robert Belden? About this tall? Blond curls? Blue
eyes with a perpetual mischievous glint?” Trixie sighed
in exasperation. “Was he still looking for the key?” “Actually, he
was playing with his Legos under the kitchen table,”
Dan replied with a grin. Trixie
attempted to jump up, but in her rage, she forgot her bonds. She abruptly
landed ker-splat on the floor. “Ooh! He’s in
trouble now!” she fumed, rubbing her tender backside. “He’s supposed to be
looking for that key so we can get loose.” “And in your
current situation, you’re going to catch him how?” Dan asked with overly-curious expression. “Want me to tell
him to get busy?” Mart questioned solicitously. “Please,” Jim
replied calmly. “Yeah, and tell
him to hurry up!” Trixie hollered. “We have to be at Tad’s house in a couple
hours! I haven’t even showered or anything today!” Mart grimaced
and held his nose as he walked past his sister into the kitchen. Thankfully
for him, she didn’t see him. “Find it yet, Bobby?” Mart inquired. Bobby hurriedly
tried to cram all his Legos under the rug that lay
beneath the kitchen table. “Not yet!” “It might help
if you quit playing, and started searching,” Mart chided. Bobby sighed
unhappily. “I’m boreda lookin’,
Mart! I can’t find it no place! It’s losted for good.” Suddenly, the boys heard the familiar sound
of the Belden station wagon pulling into the driveway. “Uh-oh! Moms is home,” Mart said, ominously. “You’re gonna get it now.” Right on cue,
the tears began the oft-traveled path down Bobby’s chubby cheeks. “Well, I’m tellin’ Moms that it was yer idea!” “Go ahead,”
Mart dared him. “But then I’m
telling Moms that you broke her Hummel figurine while throwing a ball in the
house, and then stuffed the pieces behind the couch.” Bobby shook his
curly head. “I didn’t breaked Moms’ figgereen and stuff it behind the couch. You did.” “Well, you know that, and I know that, and since Brian was the
one who missed the pass, he knows
that, but Moms doesn’t know that.” Bobby pouted
and stomped his little foot for the millionth time that day. It really stunk
being the youngest. Mart, seeing
his mother approaching the back door, gallantly opened it for her. “Afternoon
salutations, dear maternal caregiver.” “Hello, Mart,”
Helen replied wearily, handing him her shopping bags. “Did you help watch
your brother today?” “Nay, my fair
matriarch. Daniel and I journeyed to the abode of Mrs. Vanderpoel
where we assisted young Theodore Webster in his New Year’s Eve party
adornments. I do believe our young ward here spent this lovely day with our
female counterpart.” He began peeking in her shopping bags. “Perchance did
you purchase any victuals, my most charming forebear?” Helen smiled as
she flipped through the mail. “Are you ever not hungry?” “Nope,” Mart
grinned. However, that grin was effectively wiped off his face when he saw
his mother’s receipt. “Moms! Did you return the nightshirt I got you for
Christmas?” Helen looked up
nervously. “What nightshirt?” “The one with
the picture of a cheesecake on it!” Mart exhaled loudly in exasperation. Helen batted
her blue eyes in confusion. “Remember, it had the caption ‘Sex on a Plate’ written on
it,” he continued impatiently. “Oh, that nightshirt,” Helen answered
innocently. “It was too big, sweetie.” “It was one
size fits all!” Mart cried despondently. “I can’t believe you took it back.” Helen sighed.
“If it means that much to you, son, I’ll go back and exchange something for
it.” “No, no,” Mart
said shortly. “I’m sure it will be gone by then. Some other lucky lady will
scarf it up.” “Fat chance,”
Helen muttered under her breath, still rifling through the mail. “Bill, bill,
bill, advertisement, credit card offer, bill, dating solicitation? ‘Are you single and looking for that special
someone? Look no further. Date Match can help.’ Don’t you have to be over 18
to get these?” Mart cleared
his throat. “I can explain, Moms.” Helen stared at
him suspiciously. “This isn’t for you. This says Robert Belden on it.” She
glanced up at her youngest son. Bobby
innocently shrugged his shoulders. Helen pitched
the solicitation in the nearby trashcan. “I seriously doubt Robert Belden is
ready for the dating world.” “And the dating world is not ready for Robert Belden,” Mart commented with a
snicker. “You’d better keep that, Moms. With his rep, Bobby’ll
probably need that in a few years.” Helen put down
the mail and hugged her youngest child. “How was your day, sweetie?” “Uh… okay,”
Bobby replied. “Do you still have the ‘corrections’ for my handcuffs?” “You mean the
‘directions’?” Helen amended, smiling. Bobby bobbed
his head up and down. “Yeah. Do ya got ‘em?” “I think we
threw those away, Bobby. Why do you need them?” The silence was almost
deafening. “What did you do, Robert Belden?” Possessing that almost-psychic maternal
instinct, Helen hurried into the living room to see what was amiss. In the living
room, Trixie and Jim were sitting on the loveseat. Trixie was still in her
pajamas and had several stains all over the front of her shirt. Jim was
dressed, but his flannel shirt was covered with beige powder. Dan knelt in
front of them, sticking something in the handcuffs… HANDCUFFS??!! “What
happened?” Helen asked frantically. “When did this happen?” “A half hour
after you left,” Mart replied helpfully. “You’ve been
like this all day?” Helen questioned. “Where’s the key?” “Well, Moms, if
we knew that, do you think we’d be sitting here handcuffed together?” Trixie
asked sarcastically. “Bobby ‘losted’ it.” “Bobby!” Helen screamed. A second later,
Bobby appeared, a frightened look on his cherubic
face. “Is somethin’ wrong, Moms?” “Bobby, where’s
the key for your handcuffs?” “I dunno. I lookded for it all
day. It’s losted real good, Moms,” Bobby answered. “I assume
you’ve tried everything possible to unlock them,” Helen commented wearily. Trixie and Jim
nodded glumly. “We’ve tried my handcuff key, and it doesn’t work,” Trixie
replied. “A saw won’t
work, either,” Jim added. Dan threw down
the tiny screwdriver he had found in an eyeglass repair kit. “It’s pickproof,
too.” “I suppose
we’ll have to contact the company that made the cuffs,” Helen said. “Maybe
they can send a replacement key.” “And that will
take how long?” Jim questioned, his eyes
wide. “Hope your elasti-bladder can hold out that
long, Belden.” Helen’s eyes
widened in horror. “You haven’t gone to the bathroom all day? That’s not healthy. You’ll get uremic
poisoning.” Trixie rolled
her eyes. “What’re we supposed to do, Moms?” “I don’t know,
but we’ll have to think of something. If you don’t go to the bathroom, you
could die,” Helen warned. Mart snickered.
“It takes longer than one day to get uremic
poisoning, Moms. But if Trix does kick the bucket, can I have her room?” Jim glared
sternly at Mart. “We’ll be fine, Mrs. Belden. According to Trixie, she can
hold it for a long time.” “That’s not
good for guys, you know,” Dan replied helpfully. “It can cause impotence.”
Jim paled just thinking of such a travesty, Mart hooted with laughter, Trixie
blushed, and the look on Helen’s face said that maybe that wasn’t a bad
thing. “You worry too
much, Moms,” Trixie finally said in exasperation. “In ‘Mystery on the “That’s
fiction, dear,” Helen scolded. “This
is real life. Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.” She sighed in despair.
“Why on earth did you get Bobby those handcuffs for Christmas, Trixie? I knew
they would cause trouble.” “Because I’m stupid!” Trixie moaned. She
buried her face in her free hand. “Wait a minute.
Let me get Ty Scott’s tape recorder,” Mart teased.
“Before I finally remember to return it, I want to record that admission for
posterity’s sake.” Trixie shot a dirty
look to her almost-twin, but chose not to grace his comment with a response
of her own. “After Bobby helped capture Molinson---” “Holped?” Bobby
repeated indignantly. Trixie rolled
her eyes. “After Bobby captured Molinson, he showed an interest in law enforcement. I
thought his own set of handcuffs would encourage him to end up on the right
side of the law. You know how you’ve always worried about him ending up in
jail, Moms.” Mart snickered.
“Maybe next year, you can get him a nightstick, Trix. Or maybe a pistol.” He
barely missed the throw pillow that Trixie flung at him. “Calm down,” Helen
soothed. “I’m sure we’ll think of a solution.” “Well, I hate
to miss the excitement, but I need to go home and get ready for Tad’s party,”
Dan announced. “Sorry I couldn’t pick the lock for you, guys. Now, if you
needed something hot-wired…” “Need a ride
tonight?” Mart asked. “Nah, I’m
borrowing Mr. Maypenny’s rattletrap,” Dan said with a grin. The gamekeeper
had finally broken down and purchased an old Jeep. “Mr. Hartman’s
granddaughter is visiting from “Is she
pretty?” Mart inquired. “Aren’t all the
ladies I date pretty?” Dan flashed his most handsome smile. “And she’s an Orlando Bloom fan.” “You know, in
some sort of alternate universe, I
could be an Orlando Bloom fan,” Trixie mused thoughtfully. “His character in
‘A Perplexing Existence’ was so… so sullen. But I could never desert my dear Ewan. He’s just so… so… supple.” Mart snorted.
“Sullen, supple… Who comes up with these terms?” “You’re just
jealous because you don’t have a
following,” Trixie commented with a sniff of indignation. Mart jumped
back in mock horror. “For your information, Beatrix, there are several
beauteous creatures in this vast cosmos who prefer a
good sense of humor to an outward physique which shall eventually languish.” Dan chuckled.
“As enriching as this conversation has been, I gotta
go. I’m picking up Sirene in an hour-and-a-half.
See ya later!” With a merry wave, Dan was on his
way. “Oh, Moms!”
Trixie cried. “What are we going to do?” “Brian should
be home any minute,” Mart consoled. “Maybe Moms could sterilize her butcher
knife, and Brian could remove your hands at the wrists.” “Mart!” Trixie
exclaimed. “What? I’m sure
it wouldn’t be that hard. We can
get a bottle of Mr. Maypenny’s moonshine to use as anesthesia. Brian would be
thrilled to get to practice on real live people. Or maybe Jim could do it
using his penknife. I’m sure a supple woodsman like him has one.” “Mart.” Helen’s tone
implied serious implications if he did not cease and desist immediately. She
shot him a warning glance then went into the kitchen. As if on cue, they heard Brian open the
back door. “Is Jim here?” he asked when he entered the living room. His
chocolate brown eyes searched the room and landed on Jim and Trixie. “Are you
still handcuffed?” He plopped down on the couch beside Mart. “Pssst,” Mart
whispered in his oldest brother’s ear. “Have you learned about amputations in
medical school, yet?” “So, have you been obeying all the rules,
Jim?” Brian asked, ignoring Mart’s question. Trixie rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have a
party to get ready for? I’m sure you stink after all that wood-chopping.” “Don’t you want the bathroom fir--- Hey,
how are you going to get ready for the party?” “Does it look like I can go to the New
Year’s Eve party?” Trixie cried. “I’m in my pajamas! If that wasn’t bad
enough, I have dried chili stuck to my pajama top! My hair’s a mess, and Jim
has threatened my life if I get any more make-up on him! I can’t go like
this!” Brian stifled a chuckled and attempted a
nonchalant shrug. “What? You… look… uh… great.” Mart snorted. “Actually, you don’t look
much different than how you normally do.” He gasped as Brian elbowed him in
the gut. “You gotta come, Trix. Tad was really
looking forward to seeing you there. He told me to ask you to save him a
dance or two.” He smirked and studied Jim for a response. The jealous redhead did not disappoint
him. Jim’s green eyes blazed, his ears turned red, his jaw was set, and his
fists were clenched. “Well, you know… it might be best if we stayed here,
Trix,” he stammered. I never have
trusted that Tad Webster, he thought. “Aw, come on,” Brian urged. “You were really
looking forward to this party.” “And Jim, with you being handcuffed to
Trixie, just think how easy it would be to cut in on her and Tad,” Mart
teased. “I’m not going,”
Trixie declared, her chin lifted stubbornly. “Not only do I
look gross, I don’t want to hear a bunch of S&M jokes. You guys go
ahead.” “All right,” Brian reluctantly conceded.
“I’m getting in the shower. Mart, you keep an eye on Jim.” Sevenish… Brian grabbed
his jacket from the living room closet. “Are you sure you’ll be okay here,
guys?” Trixie glumly
nodded, but Jim smiled. “We’ll be fine. Have fun.” “I assume you
remember all the rules? If you want I can go over them again,” Brian offered
helpfully, fighting a grin. Jim rolled his
eyes. “I think it’s safe to say that all rules will be obeyed.” Trixie snorted.
“What do you think is going to happen, Brian? The minute you walk out the
door, Jim is going to rip off all our clothes and hop in the shower?” An ever-so-slightly suggestive smile
tugged at the corners of Jim’s mouth. “Like Dad would let that happen!” Trixie
continued. Jim’s smile immediately vanished, as he
remembered that Mr. Belden was home and talking to his wife in the kitchen. “You ready, Mart?” Brian yelled up the
stairs. Seconds later, Mart thumped down the
steps, wildly flinging his letterman’s jacket. “Ready,” he answered. “Let’s
get going. The fair Diana awaits, and I don’t want that skulker,
Nick Roberts, claiming the first dance.”
Peter and Helen walked into the living
room to say good-bye to their oldest sons. “Remember to be home by Brian nodded. “We will, Dad.” “I am aghast at the insinuation that my trustworthy
kinsman and I could possibly be dilatory,” Mart said, shaking his head. “Have
we ever failed you, most noble patriarch?” “As a matter of fact, you have,” Peter
said with a grin. “Last time, you were almost an hour late. Next time that
happens, you’re grounded.” Brian turned to Mart. “Got your watch?”
Mart held up his wrist in verification. Neither noticed the devilish grin on
Bobby’s face. “You boys have a good time,” Helen told
them, kissing their cheeks. “Be sure to thank Mrs. Vanderpoel
for letting Tad have his party there.” “We will,” Brian promised, heading for the
door. Before he left, however, he turned to Jim and mouthed a silent, “Don’t forget the rules!” After they left, Trixie sighed deeply. Jim
placed his handcuffed hand on top of hers. “Sorry your evening got ruined,
Trix.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not your
fault, Jim. I guess we’ll have to make the most of it.” “I have an idea,” Helen said brightly.
“You and Jim could have your own party here. I have some old holiday albums
that you could listen to, and I could whip up some snacks and maybe even some
punch.” Trixie smiled. “That sounds great, Moms.
Well, all except for the punch. I think I’ll pass on the liquids. As much fun
as it was to pee with not only Jim, but also you and Dad, in the same room, I
think I’ll skip the beverages.” Helen, a constant worrier, had begun
obsessing about uremic poisoning. Even though Brian
had tried to put her at ease, Helen had insisted that both Jim and Trixie
empty their bladders, much to their horror. She and Peter had held up a
thick, wooly blanket between them. Trixie had refused until Jim put in
earplugs, so he couldn’t hear anything. However, no amount of thick blankets
and earplugs could make the situation any less humiliating. Jim, who had been worrying about
impotence, decided that maybe going to the bathroom wasn’t that bad an idea.
Of course, it wasn’t an act he wanted to repeat. “I think I’ll pass on
liquids, too, Mrs. Belden,” Jim added grimly. “All right! You two wait in the kitchen
while Bobby and I get everything ready!” Helen told them excitedly. An hour later, Helen led them into the
living room. The room was lit by the Christmas tree lights, as well as
several candles lit around the room. A warm fire danced gaily in the
fireplace. Soft music played on the stereo, and several old records were
sitting nearby. Helen had used her artistic talents, and made a colorful
banner that said Happy New Year and
hung it over the fireplace. The coffee table was lined with all sorts of
goodies, like fudge and cookies. “Oh Moms!” Trixie exclaimed happily. “It
looks perfectly perfect!” She hugged her mother with her free hand. “It looks great, Mrs. Belden,” Jim agreed.
“It sure was nice of you to do this for us.” “No problem at all, Jim,” she said. “Now,
your father and I are going to take Bobby upstairs and watch a movie in our
bedroom.” “But Helen,” Peter protested. “We usually
ring in the New Year together. Alone.” Helen smiled knowingly. “I know, sweetheart,
but I thought just this once we’d
let Bobby join our party.” She leaned over to her husband and whispered,
“I’ll make it up to you later.” “Come on,
Bobby,” Peter conceded. “But the Before he went
upstairs, Peter looked back at Jim and Trixie. “Think it’s safe to leave
them?” Helen played
swatted her husband’s backside. “Jim is much too honorable to try anything.” “Well, I was
honorable, and that didn’t stop me from trying to round second base,” Peter
muttered. “They are handcuffed to each other,” Helen
reminded him. Peter scratched
his chin thoughtfully. “Do you still have those heart handcuffs I got you for
Valentine’s Day?” Helen giggled as her husband chased her up the stairs. Once they were alone in the living room,
Jim and Trixie sat in awkward silence. “Sorry Bobby got you into this mess,
Jim,” Trixie said finally. “I told you it was okay, Trix,” Jim
replied. “I’m the one who’s sorry. If you weren’t stuck to me, you’d be
dancing with Tad at his New Year’s party.” Trixie shrugged her shoulders, afraid to
tell Jim that she would much rather
dance with him. Jim nervously chewed on his lip,
desperately trying to think of something clever to say. He peeked at Trixie.
Shadows from the firelight highlighted her sandy curls. The warmth made her
cheeks slightly rosy. That one curl, his
curl, lay on her forehead, just begging, pleading,
to be tugged. Entranced by the lovely sight before him,
Jim reached out and tugged that curl. “There was a little girl, who had a
little curl, right in the middle of her forehead; when she was good, she was very,
very good…” “And when she was bad, she was horrid!” Trixie finished with a
giggle. “Is that nursery rhyme the reason you’re always pulling on my curls?”
Jim’s lopsided grin made her heart skip a beat. “My dad used to tease my mom about that
nursery rhyme,” Jim admitted softly. “But I tug your curls because I like
them so much.” Trixie’s cheeks flushed. “Right now, they
need a good combing…” “No, they don’t,” he murmured. “They’re
perfect the way they are.” He was rewarded by one of Trixie’s special
blushes. Jim nervously swallowed. “Do you want to dance?” “You don’t want to dance with me,” she
muttered. “I’m in my pajamas, and they aren’t even clean.” “Come on,” Jim urged. “I’m a sucker for a
girl in chili-crusted snowman PJ’s.” Trixie giggled
and nodded her consent. At almost The time passed
quickly for Trixie and Jim. The old grandfather clock chimed a quarter to
midnight as Jim, with his free hand, awkwardly placed another old record on
to play. “Johnny Mathis,” he murmured, studying the album cover. “My mom
liked to listen to him.” “I’ve never
heard of him,” Trixie commented. “Hey! This has
a song about New Year’s Eve.” He put the record on, and soon, the velvet
crooning of Johnny Mathis filled the room. “Maybe it’s much
too early in the game “One last dance, Trix?” Jim asked,
his heart pounding furiously. Trixie merely
nodded her consent. Her breath caught as Jim’s cuffed right hand clasped her
left one. With his left hand, he pulled her closer in a tight embrace. “Wonder whose arms
will hold you good and tight “Me too, Jim.” “There’s nobody
I’d rather spend New Year’s with,” he admitted. “Me either,
Jim.” “Maybe I’m crazy
to suppose Jim quickly
turned his head to catch a glimpse of the star. Trixie was looking up at him.
As if fate decided to take over, their lips accidentally brushed. “Ah, but in case I
stand one little chance The split second seemed to pass in slow
motion. When Jim could finally catch his breath, he looked at Trixie to make
sure she wasn’t angry. “Sorry,” he gasped. Trixie smiled
dreamily and ever-so-softly sighed. “Don’t be. I enjoyed it. Besides, isn’t
that a tradition at Jim grinned.
“Well, it isn’t “Wonder whose arms
will hold you good and tight When the clock struck Trixie smiled and nodded in agreement.
Their hearts pounded as they inched closer. Finally, their lips met, and the
Hallelujah Chorus could be heard in the heavens. The kiss started out gentle, but overcome
with emotion, Jim deepened the kiss. His free hand lovingly caressed Trixie’s
cheek, then moved to those enticing curls. For ages
he had longed to see what that tempting mass felt like. And he was not
disappointed. Soon, he buried his hand in Trixie’s silky ringlets and reveled
in their softness. Jim’s heart beat furiously at the
intensity of their first kiss. The room began spinning, his entire body
tingled and he was positive Bobby was upstairs setting off fireworks.
Abruptly, Trixie pulled away. Jim’s green eyes sought her blue ones. Did he do something wrong? “Why, Mr. Frayne, aren’t you forgetting
rule number two?” she asked, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a
bewitching smile on her face. Jim grinned, remembering the rules Brian
had ever-so carefully laid out for them and how he had tried so hard to
follow them to the letter. “What rule number two?” Jim murmured, the lopsided grin that was distinctly his making
Trixie’s pulse skip a beat. “Happy New Year, Trix.” “Happy New Year, Jim,” she whispered,
lifting her lips in anticipation of another kiss. She was not disappointed. “What are you
doing New Year’s Eve?” Precisely a
minute after Too excited to
sleep, he sat up and watched out his window to see if, by some chance, Mart
and Brian would actually make their curfew. He perched by his window facing
the driveway, his trustworthy “nocklers” in hand
and focused on At Bobby quietly
removed his clothing so he could put on his pajamas. His plan would be ruined
if Dad saw he hadn’t changed. The last item of clothing he removed was his
socks. Moms insisted that he wear footed-pajamas, although Bobby detested
them. He pulled off the left sock, then the right. A tiny ping sounded out on the wooden floor. Bobby bent down
to investigate. The key! It had
been in his sock the entire time. He almost whooped out loud from his joy. He
was sure Trixie had already devised a plan to dismember him in the most
painful way possible. Maybe this would grant him a pardon. Bobby quickly
hopped into his pajamas, zipped them up and quietly padded down the hall. He
stopped to listen outside his parents’ door. All quiet, he thought. Those
funny noises stoppded. He crept silently down the
staircase. He knew precisely which stairs creaked and where to step to make
the least amount of noise. Once down the stairs, he tiptoed in the living
room to give Trixie the key. Bobby saw his
sister and Jim sitting on the couch. Jim was leaning in one corner of the
sofa, with Trixie cuddled against him. Her right hand rested on his chest.
They were both asleep, contented smiles on their faces. A thousand
mischievous plans danced in Bobby’s brain. Should I sneak up behind them and yell real loud? Or maybe stick
Trixie’s hand in warm water and make her pee? Bobby had to cover his
mouth to stifle a giggle. But as he crept
closer to the sleeping pair, Bobby’s heart softened. His sister looked so
peaceful, so happy, so pretty… When did
Trixie get so bootiful? And for the first time Bobby could
remember, Jim actually looked relaxed. He didn’t look like was itching to
build something or climb something. He looked like he didn’t have a care in
the world. And he looks pretty strong,
Bobby thought. He might cream me if I
do somethin’ mean to Trixie… Bobby crept
silently to the trunk by the wall, and quietly opened it and pulled out a
warm blanket. He gently laid it over his sister and Jim, making sure they
were all covered. After one last sweet look at the two, he tiptoed into the
kitchen to place the key on the table. After he placed
the key on the kitchen table, Bobby giggled as he saw headlights. He waited
by the door, anticipating the fun. Minutes later,
the back door slowly creaked open. Mart and Brian had already taken off their
shoes and placed them by the door. They tiptoed inside. “Yer late,” Bobby said in a loud stage whisper. Both Mart and
Brian jumped in surprise. “We are not, Mudflap,”
Brian whispered. “It’s only 12:28.” “And if you
were as perspicacious as your elder kinsmen, you would fathom that we are not
in abeyance. Indeed, we are one hundred and twenty seconds premature,” Mart
elaborated. Bobby merely
grinned and pointed to the digital clock on the stove, which read Horror filled the older boys’
faces. Brian yanked Mart’s arm up to his face, read “No!” Mart
sputtered. “I just got it for Christmas! Did I forget the time change?” “This is New
Year’s Day, not Daylight Savings Time, you moron!” Brian hissed. “Your stupid
watch stopped!” “I just checked
it this morning,” Mart sputtered, “and it was fine!” He held the watch up to
his ear, and sure enough, he heard the soft tick, tick. “It didn’t stop. It’s just an hour behind. But how
could that…” Bobby’s giggling drew all eyes to him. “You changed the time,
didn’t you, small fry?” Bobby grinned
at them impishly. “Well, you know
that, and I know that, and Brian knows that, but Moms and Dad don’t
know that.” With that, he yawned and left the room to climb the stairs
leading to his cozy bed. Mart and Brian
looked at each other helplessly. If they told on Bobby, they would have to
tell where he got the idea for such blackmail. Before going
upstairs to their room, Brian peeked into the living room and saw Trixie and
Jim cuddled on the couch. He tiptoed over to them, picked up his sister’s
hand from Jim’s chest, and laid it by her side. “What are you doing?”
Mart whispered. “Come on, before Dad wakes up.” Brian held up
his index finger telling Mart to wait. Knowing his sister was a sound
sleeper, he gently tried to move her away from Jim, but it was no use. She
seemed to be anchored firm. Determined to put a little space between his
sister and his best friend, Brian gave a final tug. However, that only seemed
to make Trixie snuggle closer to Jim. Her free hand once again rested on
Jim’s chest. Deciding he had better not press his luck, Brian shrugged and
followed Mart to the staircase. The two boys
tiptoed up the stairs, successfully navigating the creaky steps. They crept
down the hallway and, ever so quietly, opened their bedroom door. Behind their
bedroom door stood Peter Belden. He was looking at his watch and tapping it
as if to check to time. He looked up at the boys and waited for a lame
explanation, which he would immediately disregard. Brian was
silent, but Mart had never mastered the fine art of keeping one’s mouth shut.
He threw up his hands and in a jubilant voice, decreed, “Happy New Year,
Dad!” “Happy New Year,” their father replied, a stern expression on his handsome face. Down the hall,
in his cozy bed, Bobby Belden grinned in satisfaction. Snuggling under the
warm comforter, he murmured, “Happy New Year, indeed!”
Jixemitri
Cwp #4 required elements: Must be a
kiss by mistake- Trixie and Jim Song: Love
in an Elevator- Mart taped the music video of it over the Beldens’ wedding video Someone
must receive an “Are you single?” dating solicitation- Bobby got one Cheesecake
referred to as “sex on a plate”- Written on the nightshirt Mart got Moms for
Christmas that she subsequently returned. Someone
chopping wood, other than Dan- Brian Single
sock, placement optional- Mart’s smelly one which at one time, had been
placed in Bobby’s mouth. J People
putting up decorations- lady at Crimpers Shooting
star- what provoked the accidental kiss Cameo
appearance by a created character- Bernadette’s lovely Sirene
from her Bob-White Magic site. Thank you, Bernadette! {{HUGS!!}} Carry over
item- (a make-up mirror and the mention or presence of a pet from #1, a hula
hoop and Viagra from #2, someone losing keys from #3) Author’s notes: Be sure to check out the Blooper Reel at The Cameo. There
was an affectionate tip of the hat to some of the talented writers in Jixland! A big humongous thank you to my editors,
Kaye and Kathy, for working on this. I didn’t give you very much time, and
I’m so grateful to you for getting it finished in plenty of time! Big hugs to
you both! Let me just say, I had a little
brother just like Bobby, so I know how their fowl little minds think. If my
brother would have had a set of handcuffs like these, I can only imagine the
chaos that would have ensued. *G* I know in the books, it doesn’t say
if Jim is left-handed, but he was in Cathy P’s universe, and that’s good
enough for me. J Besides, it made things a little easier for
Jim and Trixie to have the usage of their dominant hand. See how kind I was
to them. BTW, I had lots of fun
experimenting to see if such things were possible while handcuffed. Some
things may be exaggerated, but hey, this is fanfic.
J According to my lovely editor,
Kaye, I’m the only person in this vast universe who would call Mart ‘Poor
Mart’ in this story. Am I crazy? Yeah, crazy for Mart. J Making up a slew of rules just
seemed like the Brian thing to do. One of my editors suggested handcuffing
him to Honey, as recompense. *VEG*. Trixie holding her liquids for an
extremely long period of time is possible. My daughter is veeery
picky about where she goes to the bathroom. She will hold it the entire 9+
hour trip to I know Trixie wouldn’t normally be
so adamant about putting on make-up, but I thought it would be fun to have
this scene included. One of the things that bugs my
dh most is for me to squirt hair spray or perfume in his presence. And after
I wrote the powder part, I asked him if he would mind if make-up powder was
spilled on him. His reaction was just like Jim’s, so I knew I hit the nail on
the head. And the cotton ball sequence was inspired by one of Seinfeld’s
monologues. Also, there was a
reference to the infamous ‘Hot Babes in Cold Places’ is a
creation of my own, going back to ‘All I Want for Christmas’, and I gave
myself permission to use it. I can only imagine the torture I
would endure if I was handcuffed to my dh after he ate anything containing
beans. He gives a whole new meaning to the silent but deadly killers. *G* |