Wonderland [WWE] [Shawn Michaels] {Book 1}

Chapter 26: Yes

December 24th, 1996

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Kat's POV
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"I can't believe your birthday is three days before Christmas," Shawn told me. He and Paul taken me out for my first legal drinks. Which of course, just resulted in Paul and I carting Shawn home.

"My mom specifically made sure I would be here before Christmas," I explained, putting another bulb on the tree. "She didn't want me to be a Christmas baby."

"Why not?" He fumbled with a hook.

I took it from him, fixing it and putting it on the ornament. "You'd have to ask her for that one."

"Yeah, well, we didn't exactly get off on the right foot," he answered. He hung up the last ornament.

I didn't comment on that. Our relations with my family were the last thing I wanted to think or talk about. Especially since we were supposed to be having a good time.

"I think it's done," I said, stepping back to admire the tree. "It's beautiful."

Shawn wrapped his arms around my waist and laid his head on my shoulder. "So are you."

I giggled, shaking my head. "If you keep flattering me all the time, I'm going to start having an ego as big as yours."

He scoffed. "So I try to be nice, and you just attack me like that. Maybe you won't get your surprise," he teased.

I caved. "No, I want my surprise! I'm sorry."

"I think you owe me more than that."

I turned around in his arms and leaned into him, softly kissing his lips. "Now can I have my surprise?"

"Not yet," he answered. He was just pulling me along at this point. I pouted.

"Don't give me that face. You'll have your surprise soon enough," he told me.

He sat back on the couch. I made myself comfortable in his lap, gazing up at the tree.

"I love Christmas. I don't know what it is," I said.

"Well, it is a hell of a season."

"So," I sat up, turning my attention to him. "What do you want to do?"

"Whatever you want," he offered.

My eyes lit up as I came up with an idea. "We should go caroling!"

"Um, no. I don't sing."

"Come on!" I begged. "You sang your theme song."

"And I sound passable, at best. And that's after whatever magic they do to make it sound good. I am terrible," he argued.

"It doesn't matter. You don't have to be good, it's for fun. If it makes you feel any better, I can't carry a tune if my life depended on it."

"You're lying to make me feel better, but thank you," he replied.

I pushed against his chest. "I am not! I can't sing either."

He would not give in, no matter how much I argued. Finally I just gave up.

"Okay, no caroling. What do you want to do?"

"How about we go for a walk?" he asked. I could see that charming smile of his forming, meaning there was some sort of significance behind this walk. What kind of significance, I couldn't tell.

"A walk? It's late." It was evening, nearly dinner time. It was pitch black outside.

"Are you afraid of the dark?" he teased.