This short story was inspired by a challenge/prompt issued by Margaret (on the Babe and Plum Family Challenges group on Facebook):

One Shot Plum House vs Rangeman during the same day. Of course it's a BABE...could be a Holiday. What about Thanksgiving or Christmas Day? Just to show the differences in their lives...:)

I mentioned that for Latinos, we celebrate on the 24th, which is 'Noche Buena' (Christmas Eve), vs. celebrating on the actual day. Basically, all the good stuff happens on December 24th (lots of delicious food, friends and family gather, etc…), culminating with opening/exchanging gifts at midnight. The 25th is more of a day to recuperate (mostly from too much eating and drinking). So, with that mentioned MIBbabe suggested a collaboration: Christmas celebration Latino style and the Burg/Plum style.

Then I had an idea about how to make this a little more fun (*insert 'evil' laugh/muawahahahah*) and decided it was the perfect opportunity to use a little magic in the Plum world. It is Christmas after all… Since I wrote the first chapter with feedback from MIBbabe, I'm posting it under my pen name. Once we settle chapter two we'll figure out how to post so the story is all in one place.

Disclaimer: The Plum universe belongs to JE.

I was freezing by the time I reached my newest POS car. Fumbling for the keys with cold fingers was the least of my troubles. Keeping a steady grip on the steering wheel was the real problem. And to top it all off, every single station was playing Christmas music. Normally, I wouldn't mind. But today… today was a whole different situation.

In order to make some extra cash and be better equipped to afford the holidays, I accepted a job at Rangeman during the day two weeks ago. Since I was behind on rent and some other essential bills, in the evenings I've been doing the skip thing. I have been on my latest skip's trail, a Jared Marcone, for several days now. The early twenty something Newark native is better known as Gentleman Marconni. His name pretty much describes his profession. He was charged with indecent exposure when his Gentleman sausage was on display for a group of school girls when he decided to take a leak at a mall parking lot during the Black Friday craze. It's rumored that he's a stripper bordering on male escort. Marcone's worth a decent amount and I was very glad my footwork paid off earlier when I was able to locate his whereabouts for the night. Unfortunately for me, the Gentleman was providing his services to a group of very enthusiastic women. His salami was at full mast as he gyrated his pelvis in front of the older woman I assumed was the birthday girl. The other gals present seemed very enthusiastic about his goods, so I took a more detailed look just to verify. Sadly, he was nowhere near the ballpark of a certain man in black I know. Wedging myself between the cheering women was a mission. Undeterred, I eventually reached his oil slicked body and announced myself. Marcone ignored me, giving his undivided attention to the woman seated in front of him. Annoyed, I grabbed his biceps and yanked for him to follow me. Big mistake. The women roared, furious with my attempt to take away their entertainment. I have to give it to them for being such a unified front on very short notice. I can't be sure how long it took, but before I knew it I was covered in a slushy mix of lime margaritas, food and other assorted junk.

Taking my defeat, I dragged myself to my car and drove home. When Mariah Carey started signing the catchy Christmas tune, I punched the search button to change stations. I was in no mood to listen to holiday music. Unfortunately, Taylor Swift and her version of 'Last Christmas' wasn't any better. Giving up, I turned the radio off.

As always the only free parking spot was next to the dumpster, so I took it. Cold, exhausted and frustrated too I shuffled towards my building's entrance. I was drained, both physically and emotionally, to care about the fact that I was tracking the present the Gentleman's fans left me with. Making the mental note to buy Dillon a six pack for the trouble, I opened my door and entered my apartment.

"Fuck!" I grunted, realizing my apartment was colder than outside. Making the decision was tough considering the temperature, but I decided a little chill was better than having to clean the mess I would leave. Taking a deep breath, I shimmied out of my ruined clothes and dashed towards the bathroom.

After ten minutes of shivering uncontrollably, I gave up waiting for the water to get scalding hot and settled for warm. Despite my thorough cleansing, I could still detect a hint of tequila scent in my hair. I decided it was as good as it would get, so I shimmied into comfortable underwear, the thickest sweats and sweatshirt set I owned, and finished it off with fuzzy socks. At least now I was clean and somewhat warm.

After I gathered my dirty clothes from the foyer and shoved them in my trashcan, I went in search of food. My cupboards were empty and my fridge wasn't any better. But no problem. The Stephanie diet always has room for empty calories. Thankfully, I had one last Butterscotch Krimpet. A Tastykake and a new bottle of wine I was saving for New Year's will have to do. Keeping myself from starving and freezing to death was as good a thing to celebrate as the end of a year and the start of a new one.

The television was even more annoying than the radio tonight. Every channel I surfed was playing Christmas related programming. Looking at my wine bottle, I grinned. At least I had alcohol to make the start of Christmas Eve suck a little bit less. And it was warming me up too, which was an added bonus. Plus, the wine helped me mostly ignore the barely three foot tall tree just off to my left. It was so pathetic looking, lopsided and with just a handful of ornaments. Hell, yesterday it seemed decent. I don't know what I was thinking. Taking another swing of wine, I refocused my attention on the TV screen in front of me.

I must have dozed off at some point after the Grinch began, because I was jolted awake when I sensed a presence in the apartment. Heart racing, I blinked several times as I tried to adjust my vision. Maybe downing the entire bottle wasn't such a good idea.

Continued movement in the kitchen gave me something to focus on. Jumping off the couch, I tippy-toed to investigate.

A head of thick, unruly sandy blond hair popped up when its owner moved away from my fridge. He muttered something about lack of food, which elicited a growl from me. Why does everyone seem to be able to break into my apartment, yet if I forget my keys I'm locked out? Ridiculous!

"Hey!" The over six foot tall, undeniably gorgeous, hard-muscled and slightly tanned male redirected his attention towards me.

Narrowing my eyes, I crossed my arms under my breasts to show he wasn't welcomed to stay. He always ends up taking over my bed. "Don't you hey me."

"Uuu, grouchy around the holidays I see." Diesel tsk'ed me before he resorted to his best asset: a dangerous set of dimples. Rolling my eyes did not have the desired effect on him. Instead, it fueled his efforts. "It's a good thing I'm here then. I can help you up that Christmas spirit." Again, those dimples.

"No." I said firmly.

"What?" He gave me an innocent look, followed by a shrug. "Can't I stop by and wish you a Merry Christmas?"

"Whatever it is, nope!" I shook my head vigorously as I returned to the living room. I picked up the nearly empty bottle of wine and the wrinkled wrapper of my dinner. "You always show up and things get crazy weird." I shook my head again, just for emphasis. "My life is pretty crappy right now." I muttered as I dumped the little bit of wine left down the drain before tossing it into the mostly full trash bin.

"It could be a lot worse." His tone felt more like a jab at my personal life than a generalization.

Whirling around, I pierced him with my best Burg glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Woah!" The dimples came back, coupled with a wider grin. "Look, I was in some pretty hot water not too long ago and I promised that if I made it out I'd do something nice for someone who deserves it." It was his turn to pierce me with his glare, his deep-set brown eyes completely focused on mine.

Suddenly, I felt dizzy. Guess the wine was catching up with me. "Leaving me alone counts." I said as I tried to move past him. Diesel snaked an arm around my shoulders and crushed me against his side. With my nose pressed against his body I was able to get a good whiff of his usual scent: a mix of sex, fresh-baked cookies along with a hint of Christmas.

"Oh, come on. I can do better than that." Diesel gave me a squeeze as he steered me back to the couch.

"I don't get it." I confessed. "Isn't there someone more deserving of your 'good' deed?" I probably overdid it with the sarcasm, but I'm honestly already bracing myself for whatever he has in store for me.

"Look, I pulled a lot of strings and asked for a lot of favors in order to make this happen." For the first time since I've known him he sounded, well, very weird. And that's quite a stretch even for him.

"Do what for me?" Now I'm starting to feel very, very nervous for whatever he is about to throw my way.

"You will open your eyes." His grin and usual Dieselness was back. That can't be good.

Frowning, I asked him what that meant. The response was a spark in his gaze as he planted me one right on the lips.

S&R

The pounding in my head prompted me to wake up. Rolling over, I tightly squeezed my eyes even as the soft sheets felt like a caress on my bare skin. It felt heavenly, but The Cure would be better. I won't ever have another bottle of wine on a virtually empty stomach. It seems my body just can't handle it as gracefully anymore.

And then it hit me: bare skin, bottle of wine… Diesel! My eyes flew open and I practically jumped out of bed to make sure he wasn't in bed with me.

The good news? I was alone.

The bad? I was in Ranger's bedroom.

Confused was a major understatement. The last thing I remember was interacting with Diesel in my living room and after his quick peck on the lips… nothing.

One of Ranger's T-shirts was at the foot of the bed, so I grabbed it and threw it over my head. Barefoot, I headed out of the bedroom in search of my bag. I need to figure out what the hell was going on.

But a huge Christmas tree sidetracked me from my mission. It was gorgeous, standing tall in Ranger's pristine living room and decorated beautifully. It was full of presents underneath, unlike the lone tree in my apartment. Just before I wandered off, an ornament caught my attention. It was a picture of Ranger and myself, stuffed inside a clear sphere. He was smiling wide, arm draped over my shoulders. Ranger looked happy in the photograph and I wasn't far behind. It seemed like such a private moment that for a second I felt like it shouldn't be on display. I was actually a bit jealous of the Stephanie in the photo. She looked happy. Truly happy and worry free. She had everything she needed standing right by her side.

Furious wasn't even close to what I was feeling. I felt robbed, cheated even.

"Oh, Diesel! You little weasel!" I gritted my teeth as I willed him to appear unannounced like he usually does. "What the hell have you done?!"

As you might have already guessed, not taking the traditional route. It will be fun and a Babe, promise;)