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Title: Greenwich Mean Time
Author: prettyhorrible 
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A Christmas surprise for Kristen.
Disclaimer: I don't own nothing. I hear nothing. I see nothing. I know nothing. 
Author's Note: lyrics "Crazy Love" by Van Morrison.




22 December 2009 9:35 AM PST

It was folded in thirds on her bedside table.

Kristen,

I didn’t want to wake you, I didn’t want to say goodbye. You know how completely inadequate my goodbyes are. I can still feel your fingers on my neck, and I know I’ll be okay. I will call you when I land.

x R


Kristen bit her lip and shook her head. “Bastard,” she whispered to no one as she stretched her hand over to her lover’s side of the bed. It was cold. She sighed and grabbed his pillow, pressing her face into it and letting her eyes flutter shut again.

The door swung open suddenly, her mother stomping through and drawing up the shades.

“Come on, love, don’t mope around. You promised you’d help me get the trees up today.”

Kristen groaned. “Mom, trees?”

“Hush, we have to have one for the front porch and the back porch, too.”

“... in case Santa forgets we are here?”

“Okay, smart ass, get up. He’s left something for you,” her mom replied, pulling the duvet off Kristen’s long, long legs.

“Christmas isn’t for another few days--”

“--not Santa... Robert. It’s in the living room.”

Kristen’s heart jumped. “But we’re not exchanging gifts this year --”

“Oh, shut up, Kris- put some pants on and come out here,” her mom spat, closing the door behind her as she left.

She quickly pulled her pants on, grumbling as she went. “Stupid pretty English boy, he knows I am not coherent before 10AM, what the hell is he thinking with this crap, freaking Christmas pulling this crap on me without me knowing and I didn’t even get him anything proper.”

She walked the short distance to the living room and gasped as she saw the small curio cabinet standing next to the tree.

Well that certainly wasn’t there yesterday.

Kristen walked closer to the cabinet and opened the glass doors carefully, noting the contents of what was inside.

She ran her fingers over each figurine, pint glass, tacky Christmas ornament, and other knick knack placed delicately within. She smirked.

Her mother sighed. “I had no idea what he was up to this morning, but I just chalked it up to him being my slightly-off-the-wall son-in-law,” she mused, her eyes scanning over the random items placed on the shelves of the cabinet.

Kristen smiled. “He remembered. I told him-- when we were filming Twilight in Portland-- how when we were younger and traveling, we would always pick out the tackiest thing we could find and bring it home to LA.”

Jules Stewart laughed. “I think my favorite was the gigantic snow globe from Niagara Falls with the man in the barrel going over the side.”

“Yes, that was a good one!” Kristen picked up a large ceramic bull with ‘Viva Madrid!” painted in bright yellow on the side. She scanned the items carefully. “He’s given me one thing from every single place we’ve been together.”

“Where’s the turtle from?” her mom reached over and grabbed a small turtle figurine on the bottom shelf.

Kristen raised her eyebrow. “Not sure... does it say something?”

Her mom took a closer look and shook her head. “Nope, I don’t think so.”

“Hmm,” Kristen replied. “I will have to ask him about that when he gets home. He promised to call when he lands at Heathrow.”

Jules put her hand to her forehead. “Wait,” she said in mock surprise. “Maybe this has something to do with it? He gave this to me before he left this morning. He said to make sure you saw it.” Kristen took the large manila envelope from her mother’s hand and took its contents from inside. 

She gasped as her eyes scanned the colorful brochure.

“Turtle Island, Fiji.” she said. “Is he serious?”

“I think there’s something in the back there, too, he would want you to see that as well,” she helped her daughter flip to the last page of the catalog.

Her fingers came across two plane tickets, one for Robert Thomas Pattinson and one for Kristen Jaymes Stewart. They were dated two weeks from that day, originating from London.

“Mom, he’s taking me to Fiji. Jesus Christ,” her hand went to her mouth, agape.

Jules smiled. “Yes. He rented the entire island for a week in January.”

“How long have you known about this?” she exclaimed.

“He’s been planning it for a couple of months, now. He says you both need the solitude that only a small tropical island can provide.”

Kristen’s eyes filled with tears. “Mom, I just can’t--”

Jules hugged her tightly. “Don’t be silly, now. Be thankful, sweet girl. Be happy. You have found your one person, and he just happens to be one of the most thoughtful guys you’ve ever met. There are worse things in life, believe me.”

“I wish he were here right now. I wish he weren’t on a plane so I could scream at him for getting me a gift.”

“Kristen Jaymes, you will do nothing of the sort. You will get on that plane to London next week and be the sweet daughter-in-law I raised you to be, one that accepts gifts graciously,” she smiled.

Kristen hugged her mom, leaning her head onto her chest. “Sometimes I don’t think this is real. I’ll wake up and he’ll be gone.”

Jules placed her hand on Kristen’s head. “Nope, my sweet girl. I think my future grandchildren are destined for a great deal of transatlantic flights.”

* * * *

25 December 2009 00:05 GMT

“More pecans, Mom,” Kristen directed from across the kitchen. “Then, add the sugar.”

“I’m using Splenda,” her mom replied. “Too many calories--”

“You’re kidding me, right, Mom? This is my recipe -- use sugar, okay?” she replied.

Her mother sighed. “All right,” she reached for the glass container of sugar on the counter.

The whirring of the Kitchenaid mixer nearly overcame the sound of Kristen’s Blackberry ringing on the table.

Private Number.Hullo, my love--” the words were slurred, but she knew it was Rob.

“Hi. You are in trouble.”

“Wha? What did I do? I’m like five time zones away, I swear it wasn’t me,” he laughed.

“You know what you did. The turtle?” She heard the plucking of guitar strings.

“Mmm,” he sighed. “I can’t wait to have you naked on the beach.”

She chuckled. “I hope the all-inclusive package includes SPF 75. For both of us.”

“Naturally. It’s Christmas, baby.”

“That it is. Merry Christmas. You get anything good?” she asked, sinking into the living room couch. Her finger went to the hair across her face and twirled lazily.

“Nah, nothing important. My real present arrives December 27th on a flight from California.”

“Shut up,” she said quietly. “I’m no prize.”

“Oh really? Then how come I can’t stop playing this song for you?”

She closed her eyes as he began to sing. Far away, her mother was asking for more ingredients and Tom was calling for shots. Her father was in the backyard with Taylor, Cameron was bursting through the front door with a bag of dinner rolls.

A slow smile spread across her face as he played the opening chords for her.

“I can hear her heart beat for a thousand miles
And the heavens open every time she smiles
And when I come to her that's where I belong
Yet I'm running to her like a river's song

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love
She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She's got a fine sense of humor when I'm feeling low down
And when I come to her when the sun goes down
Take away my trouble, take away my grief
Take away my heartache, in the night like a thief

Yes I need her in the daytime
Yes I need her in the night
Yes I want to throw my arms around her
Kiss her hug her kiss her hug her tight

And when I'm returning from so far away
She gives me some sweet lovin' brighten up my day
Yes it makes me righteous, yes it makes me feel whole
Yes it makes me mellow down in to my soul...”


Rob chuckled at the last line. Kristen wiped the tears from her eyes.

She sniffed. “That’s not fair. You are so getting laid when I get to Heathrow. Probably in the car.”

He laughed. “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

luv 2 luv ya



so after 5 years of journal entries and a good 8 months away, I am trying this again.

this will be mostly public stuff (maybe some things friends only), as of right now I'm only maintaining a journal to keep up with all my fandom-related srs biz. it may be fleshed out more later if I'm feeling more creative.

but as far as this being a dumping ground for my problems, that's old meme. I have an excellent therapist.

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prettyhorrible
they see me lurkin', they hatin'

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