“Passengers on flight 423 to Los Angeles, we’d just like to let you know at this time that there will be a delay to this flight, we are anticipating departure at 5pm and will keep you updated on any changes.”

“Gotta be fuckin’ kidding me…” Justin muttered under his breath.

Once again he cursed the idiot CFO who had decided that right before Christmas was a good time to be available for a deposition. He then cursed him a second time for only deciding to be available several states away. Travel was never his favourite thing to begin with but in holiday season it was something else. Of course that was exactly what the guy had been counting on, hoping nobody would be able to go, so suffer Justin must to prove him wrong.

Never mind peace and good will to all mankind, it was enough to make you feel genocidal towards all mankind. Everybody was pushy, rude and would trip you up if it meant they could get your seat on a flight. When his connection had been cancelled it had taken an inordinate amount of pushing, shoving and finally money to make sure he managed to get onto an alternate flight. People took forever at the desk because they were too busy fruitlessly arguing and pointing out that it was Christmas like that was going to change the answer from ‘no’ to ‘yes.’ The attendants were all harassed and abrupt as a result. He was probably one of the last three or four in line who had managed to get a ticket, everybody else was stuck and emotional about it. It had not been pleasant.

It had also not been well timed. The new flight was cutting it extremely close to make his transfer, so he had pretty much sprinted across the airport. Finding out that he needn’t have bothered was not welcome news, although on the bright side it meant he could think about going to get a cup of coffee. He hadn’t managed to get a drink in about three hours.

Wearily he pulled out his phone and composed a brief text message to his wife. She’d received a lot of those from him today and every time they’d been to tell her things were going wrong. Through all of it he’d clung to hope that he could still make it to the dinner party as promised, but clearly that was never going to happen.

Sorry honey, flight delayed to 5, will definitely be late home now.

Predictably her answer was near immediate. It was like she lived with her phone in her hand (not that he complained about that while he was away, though when they were at home was another matter).

Are you having the journey from hell or what! What time will you get here?

He quickly tapped out his reply, simultaneously wondering when he was going to have any time to wrap presents before tomorrow. He should have listened to her when she warned him to do it before he left.

At least 10, probably later. Fuck my life.

With an audible huff he slumped into a free seat and started straightening himself back out. Since he’d had to needlessly run to the gate he was in disarray and his stuff was practically falling out of his pockets. The phone beeped at him again, but it was a minute before he could check it.

Poor baby. Want a sneak peek at your Xmas surprise to cheer you up?

Apparently it was a rhetorical question because she hadn’t waited for him to text back. His eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. If this had been a cartoon they’d be shooting in and out of his head in time to bursts of an alarm.

What are you trying to do to me B?!!

He was staring at a picture of her body (well, he assumed it was hers, her head was cut off) clad in an extremely tight red corset lined with Santa-style white fur. It was more boob than he’d seen in a week.

I’ll be waiting up xx

**

“Gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

Justin looked down at his speedometer and quickly realised that the universe was, once again, not kidding him. Glancing back up at his rear view mirror, he let out a string of expletives under his breath at the flashing blue lights and dutifully pulled the car over. Switching off the engine, he locked his fingers together behind his head and slumped back in the seat.

This day really could not get any worse, it was not possible. The flight had been even further delayed. Turbulence had been horrible and he’d been stuck directly in front of a young child who hadn’t seen fit to stop screaming at any point. Getting out of the airport had been a royal pain and traffic hadn’t been great even at that late hour on Christmas Eve. Now he was finally out of the worst and able to make some progress, now he had to get pulled over by a cop? It wasn’t fair. Somebody on high was clearly screwing with him. He really hadn’t intended to speed and hadn’t even noticed he was.

It was all her fault. He’d been racing to get home to her at some vaguely sensible hour since she had not quit with the provocative text messaging. It felt like the entire airport lounge must have known what he was looking at – his cheeks had felt so hot he was sure his face had to be bright red. And if he did say so himself, it took a lot to make a dirty bastard like him blush.

The inevitable knock came on the window and he rolled it down.

“Evening, officer.” He tried to sound polite and vaguely cheerful.

“License and registration.”

Oh great – clearly the guy was pissed to be working the holiday. From the tone and the sullen expression Justin guessed he was unlikely to be forgiving. Wordlessly he acquiesced. The man seemed to be taking far too long to scrutinise the items, and he had to force himself not to drum his hands on the wheel or otherwise fidget.

“Are you aware of how fast you were going?”

Hmm… to lie or not to lie?

“Not until you pulled me over, I’m really sorry. I’m just really late getting home and I didn’t notice my speed creeping up.”

“There’s a limit for a reason.” He was unmoved by Justin’s penitent tone. “Everybody wants to get home to their families but that’s no excuse for breaking the law.”

“I know, I’m really sorry.” Great – he needed a fine like he needed a hole in the head. He was trying to put every spare penny away for the house renovations.

“But it’s the holidays, it’s late, and I don’t want to have to fill out the paperwork when my shift is so nearly over. Consider yourself warned.”

What? That was it? It was a Christmas miracle.

“Thank you so much, sir, you’re good people. Merry Christmas. I hope your shift’s over as fast as possible.”

“You and me both.” The officer patted the roof of the car as a dismissal. “Merry Christmas.”

Justin took great pains to pull away in as exemplary a manner as possible. As he drove when his eye wasn’t trained on his speed it was on the look out for any more police cars. It was just a little further now, he was nearly home. If he was really lucky she might still be up.

In fact, he only had fifteen more minutes to go when he felt the tell tale clunking start.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

**

The house was predictably dark when he walked in, not a single light on anywhere. Flipping the switch, Justin dumped his bag by the door and his keys on the table. He couldn’t even be bothered to take the bag upstairs with him; he’d take it up tomorrow. A fierce scowl marred his face as he kicked off his shoes and studied his filthy hands. He’d also managed to get oil on his best white shirt, the expensive one she’d bought for his last birthday. If she didn’t kill him for failing to make it home at a decent hour she was going to kill him for ruining it.

After the day he’d had, it just figured he’d get a flat when the end was in sight. Thank God the spare had been ready to go or he’d have had to wait for roadside assistance on top of every other damn thing that had gone wrong today.

Stalking into the kitchen, he furiously scrubbed at his hands until the grease was gone. Surprisingly the kitchen was spotless, despite the number of people who had been there for the meal that night. The meal and the friends he’d missed. The sight of the fridge made his stomach rumble – he’d never managed to grab any dinner on top of everything else – but it was much too late to eat so he’d have to wait for their traditional Christmas Day breakfast in the morning. That was of course assuming that she wasn’t too mad at him to make it.

It took every last drop of energy he had to trudge upstairs. In the unlikely event that she was still waiting up for him he doubted he’d even be able to accept his much anticipated surprise gift. He felt like a zombie and it simply wasn’t fair. What had he done to deserve the way the universe had been shitting on him today?

Sure enough when he entered their bedroom and turned on the lamp he saw her fast asleep in the bed, in the over-sized Dodgers t-shirt she wore to bed. From her slow and even breathing he could tell she must have turned in a while ago, so there was no point waking her up. As if to taunt him, the Christmas lingerie she’d been keeping for the surprise was now laid neatly out on the chair next to the bed.

A childish pout marred his face as he tiptoed quietly into the bathroom, shedding his socks and his now ruined shirt as he went. Washing his face and brushing his teeth made him feel marginally more human, but not by much. Yanking off his pants and leaving them in a heap (she’d tell him off for that in the morning) he finished up and crept back into the bedroom, careful not to wake her.

It was only then that he noticed there was a piece of paper sitting on the chair with the outfit.

Well, I guess you’re not supposed to open presents before Christmas Day anyway. We’ll see what Santa brings you in the morning.

Love you, B xx

As tired as he was, he managed to muster up enough energy for a grin. He crawled into bed, threw his arm around her body and was asleep almost before his head touched the pillow.