"It would probably also help if you stopped chewing the walls."
"It's for architectural reasons Chief."
Azazel remained seated. Calm and still on the front Porch of Charlie Swans home. It was how you say...
Fucking awkward.
She could sense the Chief hovering by his own front door and obviously debating whether or not he should address her. Finally as he came to a decision Swan stepped out, his smile bright under his mustache... a smile that dimmed when he noticed the girl didn't even turn his way.
He cleared his throat and stepped further out onto the porch.
She didn't want to talk to him.
Instead she focused on the white snow falling all around them... and on the cold she couldn't even feel with how warm her own body was. She had never seen snowfall before... at least not like this. Growing up in California and spending her holidays in Southern California meant the closest they got to snowfall were those rare hailstorms.
The Chief cleared his throat again.
"Get a glass of water." Azazel snapped.
"What?"
"You keep clearing your throat so get a fucking glass of water." Azazel finally turned to look at the Chief.
His eyes were wide and he seemed confused on what the proper reaction would be until he seemed to settle on the words. "That's not a very nice word there."
"Didn't realize I was talking to a fucking child."
A low deep exhale came and he slowly sat down on the bench next to her. She scooted as far back away from him as she possibly could. "Why don't you come inside? I bought a gingerbread house and there's cocoa?"
"I'm not a child either Chief." She spat out crossing her arms turning away once more. "Leave me alone." There was a low snort, and a mumble that caused her to grit her teeth together to avoid saying anything else.
Azazel was determined to keep her rigid posture and determination to avoid looking at the Chief, but soon it hurt more to remain rigid for so long. An hour passed, then two with him still sitting there , not giving her the damn space she desired. With an annoyed growl she turned to look at the Chief before her annoyance filtered to confusion.
The Chief was shivering and his nose and tips of his ears had turned a bright red, not to mention how tightly he was hugging himself as he looked out at the snow.
Why on Earth wasn't he going inside? The man was wearing a thin plaid flannel shirt and jeans, and had also decided to forego shoes.
"Leave me alone!"
"Then I'll be alone with you."
"Just so you know. You suck." Azazel drawled standing up and opening the door. "Hurry up, your toes are gonna fall off."
There was a smug grin beneath that shitty mustache and Azazel knew what the old man was thinking. He was thinking he won and for fucks sake, he was unfortunately right. Now inside of the Swan household, Azazel eyed the pistol hanging off the belt on the coat rack, but even more concerning to her was the Chief's nonchalance.
He entered the kitchen pulled out two mugs and poured two glasses of hot cocoa. Finally after the brief moment of silence, he looked up and caught what she was looking at.
"When Bells was little, I'd have to hide the gun. I was so scared she'd try to play with it and accidentally shoot herself. I believe you're old enough to keep from shooting yourself accidentally."
"That's your only concern?"
The Chief grinned handing her the cup of cocoa with a grin. "Who's gonna shoot the guy who got them cocoa?" Azazel can't help but roll her eyes but nonetheless she finds her shoulders relaxing. "See? A nice cup of hot cocoa."
Azazel accepts the cup looking at the belt with pistol still inside. She understood the concern... better than he knew. She was that little girl growing up in a police officer's house.
Slowly she takes a sip of the cocoa before gagging. "Fuck. This tastes like shit. How did you screw up a powder based cocoa?"
~~~~~~
When the two finished suffering through their cups of cocoa, Azazel noticed something hanging over the chimney. "Did... did you make stockings?" She stood and walked over to notice four stockings hanging over the Chimney.
Three of the stockings had Atrocious handwriting that could only belong to a child, and looked as though some sort of glitter monster threw up all over it. They were labeled Daddy, Mommy and Isabella.
And there placed next in between Isabella and Daddy was a bright red stocking, looking brand new compared to the others weathered through their own years of celebration.
A stocking with the name Azazel written.
"It's a tradition for every member of the house to have a stocking so..." the Chief spoke awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "I know it's not as flashy as the others but I didn't have any glitter on me... but we can probably swing by some sort of craft store to-"
"You mentioned something about a gingerbread house?" Azazel interrupted ripping her gaze away from the stockings.
"Oh... yeah. They're over here."
~~~~~
"What the fuck?"
Charlie Swan bit back a life when Azazel's Gingerbread house kept falling apart. "Try using more frosting to-"
"I know what I'm fucking doing Swan." Azazel snapped holding up a hand before returning her focus back to the Gingerbread house who's walls would just not stay up. "I'm adding the fucking frosting."
"It would probably also help if you stopped chewing the walls."
"It's for architectural reasons Chief. Not like yours is any better." Azazel growled before turning to look at Charlie Swan's gingerbread house and was both annoyed and impressed at the cute house he had constructed. "Okay that's not fair."
"I offered to help you!"
With an annoyed hand Azazel knocked over the rest of the walls, snatched red gumdrops, threw them haphazardly onto the small construction sight and squeezed as much frosting out of the bottle as possible. "There's a dessert. Who needs it to look pretty?" She grumbled munching on the roof.
They continued through mundane activities that in Azazel's own way caused each activity to be filled with cuss words and Charlie was left doing his best to keep from bursting into snickers. Even now as they sat watching Frosty the Snowman.
"Where are all the adults during this bullshit?"
Charlie Swan smiled and despite the girls language and obvious attitude, he was actually having a good time. Normally he spent these Christmases alone.
Too heartbroken to be among others when it seemed to remind him of his ex wife and child who had chosen anything but him.
The thought of them caused a tidal wave to wash over him. Would... would they feel he was betraying him by enjoying the holidays with another?
Azazel seemed to have picked up on his mood within seconds before she gestured over to the stockings. "Where are they?"
"Who?"
"Ya know. Your ex-wife and daughter."
"In Arizona. Bells used to come down for the Holidays but it's been a while."
"I'm guessing a really long while since we're watching fucking children's movies." Azazel snorted rolling her eyes again. "Don't you have any friends to celebrate Christmas with?"
"Don't you?" Charlie retorted before pausing.
Azazel remained silent before shaking her head. Charlie's face morphed into one of apology immediately before Azazel spoke her tone considerably lighter.
"I did have a friend I guess. She was nice... and was very clean and neat." She drawled silently, "Someone I felt like I could trust without trying to. I liked the way she did art."
"Did you two hang out a lot?"
"Looking back now.... I wish we did."
After the heart to heart Azazel grew silent during the rest of the movies with little else to say.
~~~~~~~~~
Not knowing how to handle the interaction from there, Charlie left Azazel to her own devices which meant going and sitting on the porch again.
She wouldn't lie. It had been nice...
Yet as nice as Christmas Eve with Charlie is she couldn't help but remember how nice Christmas was with her family.
Her mom would be cranky about the cold yet wouldn't need a jacket because then it made her too hot. Her father would be shivering with a bright red nose and still insisting on having a snowball fight which Ajax couldn't wait for.
She could see her little brother now, vibrating in excitement and telling his big sister to "Hurry the hell up!" Which would elicit a smack in the back of his head by their mother.
They'd separate into teams.
Azazel and her father were always on the same team... the same team that lost for ten years in a row.
Losing never bothered their father, especially since he knew the reason why they lost. He couldn't bear to throw a snowball at his wife and child and Azazel couldn't bear to throw a snowball at her mother and brother.
Neither wife nor son ever noticed.
They merely presumed that their opponents had horrible aim.
She wondered what they'd be doing if they were still alive ...
"Azazel." She looked up to see Samuel Uley.
"Samuel. What are you doing here?" She bit out turning to face the snow, forcing her fists to relax. When had her body turned so tense?
"I think the better question is... why are you crying on Christmas Day?"
Oh...
"Fuck off."
For a brief moment there was silence then the sound of foot steps. Thank fuck. If Sam had pulled a Charlie, something tells her he wouldn't have stayed quiet for two hour-
WHAM!
Azazel's head was hit and cold snow fell into her lap.
She turned to see the source and found Samuel tossing a snowball up and down in the air, a teasing grin upon his features. "Oh yes I did."
~~~~~~~~
From inside the house Charlie Swan watched something in Azazel change.
A stubborn determination to act like she wanted to rip off Sam's head as she stomped down the steps and scooped up a handful of snow and threw it square in Sam's chest.
Not wanting to be one upped, Sam grabbed a snowball next and aimed, and soon the two were playing like children.
Charlie knew he made the right call in asking Sam to come over.
And a warmth spread through Charlie's chest when he noticed the small unwilling smile tugging on the girls lips.
That was enough of a present for the man this year.
"Merry Christmas Azazel."