note: So far we have a Jeep that won't start, a lost engagement ring that Phoebe believes is worth more than her, a busted left hand, a burned right hand, a burned face, an allergic reaction, and a broken nose. How can things get worse? Here's part two.

Don't own MSB.

Enjoy!

the worst chrismukkah ever
by the ultimateSora

PART TWO

Saturday, December 24, 2011
Chrismukkah Day Four. Christmas Eve.

Ralphie took the train in to New York to get Arnold and Phoebe back to Walkerville. Phoebe took the back seat, Arnold the front, while Ralphie drove the Porsche home.

"My God, you two look like shit," Ralphie said. "I didn't want to say it in front of your grandparents, man, but damn."

"We're aware," Arnold said. He had his head tilted back just in case the gauze decided to leak some blood. "Pretty sure the people at the ER thought Phoebe and I beat each other up."

Ralphie laughed. "You two can barely beat a pillow up, let alone each other. Speaking of, Pheebs, how did you hurt your hand?"

"I- slipped on ice."

"Bullshit."

"It's- it's true."

"You think after thirteen years of being step-siblings I wouldn't know when you're lying?" he asked. "What did you do?"

"Can we not talk about this now?"

"That's what she tells me," Arnold said. "Better to just drop it."

The rest of the ride back to Walkerville was quiet. Ralphie dropped Phoebe off at home, and she wished so much she could take a relaxing bubble bath. With her hands being hard to use and not being able to get her face bandages wet, she decided to plop on the couch and just watch TV.

She heard her phone ding, and she saw she had a mass-text from Keesha: the wanda-keesha xmas spectacular tonight at the house. bring booze

The last thing Phoebe wanted to do was go to a party, but maybe it would get her mind off how shitty the week had been so far. She texted back: Can't speak for Arnold, but I'll be there.

Keesha: p without a? HA!

What's that supposed to mean?

you co-dependent gingers can't even fart without the other one right there holding their hand, let alone go to parties without each other

That's not true.

right, and i'm not black and wanda isn't stupid as hell and d.a. has small tits

Shut up.

your girlfriend has big tits. that's just fact

I meant shut up about me and Arnold.

oh. well, i stand by the tits thing

Fair enough.

see you tonight. BRING BOOZE

Phoebe tossed her phone on the coffee table and decided to nap. She realized she drifted off when a sudden pain woke her. She had turned on her left side, putting pressure on her face and hand. She had been asleep for a good two hours, and she got up to change her face bandage.

Her left hand was still swollen and bruised, but the burn on her right hand was feeling better. She took that wrap off, moving her fingers to get the blood flow going, and she noticed the blisters had become smaller. Progress, at least. She went to the bathroom and got the things she needed to change her bandage and clean the area.

When the air hit the burn, she winced and wished Arnold was there to help her- no! That was exactly what Keesha meant. She really couldn't do much without Arnold (or Dorothy Ann) around. She didn't want to be that girl...the kind who was co-dependent and needed her boyfriend (or best friend/roommate) at all times. Though, the kind of crap she went through usually didn't happen when Dorothy Ann was around. Arnold, yes, obviously, but not D.A.

Maybe being dependent on D.A. wasn't a bad thing.

Ralphie was Arnold and Phoebe's ride to the party. Ralphie and Phoebe were wearing the tacky Christmas sweaters they bought the year the Terese-Tennellis decided to do a fun Christmas family photo, all four wearing tacky sweaters or, in Dr. T's case, a turtleneck with a tacky vest. Ralphie's sweater, which had Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer on it, even lit up.

Arnold would never wear something like that, Phoebe, knew, so he was wearing a dark red cardigan over a dark green button-down shirt with his brown slacks. The Wanda-Keesha X-mas Spectacular had one dress code rule: Must wear tacky Christmas attire, but they made exception for Arnold, who was "too prissy for such fun" (Keesha's words)/"too hot for tackiness" (Wanda's words).

"Wanda is going to flip a shit when she sees that plum you call your nose," Ralphie said.

"Maybe she'll stop comparing me to that stupid sparklepire she's obsessed with," Arnold said.

"To be fair, man, she made some good points about you looking like that douche."

"It wasn't my fault Janet spilled that glitter all over me!" He winced. "Shit, yelling makes my face hurt."

His nose has swelled even more since that morning, and both of his eyes were very black. It would be a while before he could wear his glasses, and Phoebe knew he wouldn't wear contacts, as they hurt his eyes.

"No Arnold-yelling?" Ralphie smirked. "Damn, what're we going to do without you going all angry on us? Carlos is going to go insane without Mommy Arnold keeping us in line!"

Ralphie managed to find parking in the street not too far from Keesha and Wanda's house. There were already a lot of cars there, and Phoebe could hear the music when they got out of the Xterra. Ralphie and Arnold carried the bags of beer and liquor, since Phoebe's hands were still healing. To be safe, she went ahead and re-bandaged her right hand so the blisters wouldn't pop.

The house was almost packed when they walked in, and the three beelined to the kitchen where Wanda was making margaritas.

"So the bitches-" She turned and screamed when she saw Arnold. "Oh. My. God! What happened?" She cupped his face. "A beautiful work of art, damaged! This is horrible!" She took the bags from him, putting them on the counter, and she pulled him away with her, screaming about his face.

Phoebe sighed. "Well, leave it to Wanda to take my fiancé away with her, crying about his 'beautiful work of art' face when I'm standing right here."

"Well, you should have been firm with her in the beginning about Arnold being your man," Ralphie said.

Keesha walked over to them. "Psh, even if Phoebe peed on his leg, Wanda would still try to hump him."

Phoebe took one of the beers, holding it out to Ralphie for him to open. "I'm going to go- well, I don't know where I'm going. Outside maybe."

She walked out of the kitchen and decided not to try and find Arnold. She didn't trust Wanda, but she trusted him. She went out to the backyard, a few partygoers out there having a smoke. She took a drink of her beer, the cold bottle feeling nice against her bandaged hand. Hopefully the alcohol would help relax her and keep her mind off of her throbbing eye.

"You sneaky little bitch!"

Phoebe didn't have to turn around to know that was Janet Perlstein's voice screeching through the air. Unfortunately, she was the receiving end of that screech. Janet roughly grabbed her, the beer falling from Phoebe's hand. Phoebe was too weak to fight off Janet, her damaged hands not being able to do much, so there was no way she was going to keep from having her head dunked in the hot tub.

Since it was December, Keesha and Wanda had the pool covered, but the attached hot tub was not. It was on and bubbling away. Phoebe tried to remain relaxed and not let any of the water into her lungs. Janet's knee dug in her back, and her hold was too strong for Phoebe to try and push her head up.

The hot water made the bandage come off, and it burned her healing skin. That was enough to make her want to scream, but she knew that would be a bad idea. Fortunately, Janet was off of her, and she felt someone pull her out of the water.

"What the hell, Janet?" Dorothy Ann demanded.

Phoebe didn't care about the how or why D.A. was there. She just cared she was there. She grabbed D.A. in a tight hold and bent down to press her face against her neck.

"She kissed Tim!" Janet said. "She cheats on my cousin with the only guy I ever truly wanted!"

D.A. wrapped her arms around Phoebe, who was shivering now. "That's no excuse to drown her! Look at her! She's beat up enough as it is!"

Phoebe knew everyone was watching and listening, which made her press her face harder against D.A.'s skin. "Can we go inside?" she asked, her voice low.

"Sure."

Just as Dorothy Ann was about to escort her in, Janet moved in their way. "No! Not until I get answers!"

"What's going on?"

Great. Now Arnold was out here.

"Your skeevy little girlfriend kissed Tim!" Janet said. Her tone changed when she added, "What the hell happened to your nose?"

"Not now. What's this about Phoebe kissing Tim?"

Phoebe knew she had to come clean. She pulled away from D.A. and walked over to Arnold. "Not here. Let's go inside."

Ten minutes later, Arnold had Tim's head in the hot tub.

Sunday, December 25, 2011
Chrismukkah Day Five. Christmas Day.

On the bright side, Dorothy Ann had come home early after hearing about Phoebe's injuries. On the crap side, Arnold was beyond livid that Phoebe hadn't come clean about what happened to her ring sooner, so he wasn't speaking to her just yet. He was also upset she didn't tell him Tim pushed himself on her, hence how she hurt her hand, but that anger was more directed at Tim. Phoebe knew it was best to give Arnold a couple of days to cool off, as his anger was all over the place.

"You should have told him."

Phoebe was resting her head on D.A.'s lap as they relaxed on the couch that morning. It was Christmas Day, but it didn't feel like it.

"I know, but I was waiting for the right time. Between injuries and all that, no time was right."

D.A. started to gently scratch Phoebe's head. "Until Janet screamed it to the world."

"Right."

"You know Arnold isn't mad at you for what Tim did. He's just upset you didn't tell him."

"I know."

"He'll call you when he's calm."

"I know."

D.A. reached for the remote and turned on the TV. "Well, Twenty-Four Hours of A Christmas Story is on, so I say we watch."

Phoebe sat up. "Don't know if I'm in the mood."

"How can you not be? I mean, after all, your left eye looks like what would happen if one were to shoot their eye out."

Phoebe smiled. "I'm so glad you're home. Though, I am surprised your family let you go so early."

"They understood- well, my parents did." She got up. "I'll start on breakfast, and then we'll open what presents we have before you and Ralphie go to your parents' for Christmas dinner."

"Are you coming?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Please? Arnold isn't, so you'll have to be both me and Ralphie's 'date.'"

D.A. laughed as she went to the kitchen. "I knew someday I'd be dating both of you."

"So no Arnold?" Suzette Tennelli-Terese asked as Ralphie, Phoebe, and Dorothy Ann walked in the house.

They came in to the kitchen from the side door, and Phoebe felt her stomach rumble at the smell of her step-mother's cooking.

"Not this year," Ralphie said, taking off his coat. "Best to leave it at that."

"They didn't break up, did they?"

"No, Ma, they didn't break up."

Mark Terese walked in the kitchen. "Am I going to have to hunt that boy down for any reason?"

Ralphie held his hands up. "It's all good and fine, so Mark, there will be no hunting, and Ma, there will still be a wedding...eventually."

Phoebe had to admit she loved it when Ralphie would speak for her in these kind of situations. Since he was two months older, he would jokingly say it was his job as "the older brother."

When the food was ready, the four Ternellis and Dorothy Ann sat down after serving themselves in the kitchen. Ralphie and D.A. managed to keep the conversations off of Phoebe's injuries, why Arnold wasn't there, or anything concerning Arnold or Phoebe.

After dinner, Ralphie drove Phoebe and D.A. home, and with Arnold not around, Phoebe was happy D.A. was there to help her change her face bandage after she helped her wash her hair.

"I'm so glad you're home," Phoebe said as D.A. brushed out her damp hair. They were in the living room watching TV, Phoebe on the floor and D.A. on the couch.

D.A. smiled. "You've said that."

"I know, but it's true."

"So I assume Chrismukkah has ended early this year."

"Looks that way. Probably for the best. Every day has been one disaster after another."

D.A. reached forward and knocked on the wooden coffee table. "So far so good today, though."

"Well, Chrismukkah's been cancelled, so..."

"Point taken."

"And you're home, so extra luck has been added."

When D.A. was done, Phoebe got up and joined her on the couch. Snow began falling outside as they watched It's a Wonderful Life, and Phoebe hadn't realized she fell asleep until...

Monday, December 26, 2011
Chrismukkah Day Six(?)

...bright sunlight hit her eyes. Phoebe was on the couch, Dorothy Ann's Minnesota Vikings fleece blanket covering her. She realized that D.A.'s pillow with her faded Minnesota Twins pillow case covering it was under her head. She should have realized that as it smelled strong of D.A.'s perfume. Phoebe sat up, seeing the clock on the cable box reading "8:42."

"Want some breakfast?"

She turned at the sound of D.A.'s voice as she came out of the bathroom. "Breakfast sounds good."

D.A. walked towards her room. "Pancakes, bacon for me, and soy sausage for you. All of it nut-free. First, I shall change out of my robe and into some lazy-clothes."

While she changed, Phoebe got up to brush her teeth and check on her burns. Her hand looked all right to leave bare, but her face still needed a bandage. After she cleaned up for the day, she went to her room to change from her pajamas to a clean pair of sweat pants and a hoodie sweater.

Dorothy Ann was starting on breakfast when Phoebe walked out to the living room. Not only was D.A. Little Miss Fix-It, but she was also the cook of the two. Phoebe knew how to cook, but considering D.A. was better at it and knew more recipes, Phoebe was mainly the bug catcher and trash-taker-outer.

After breakfast, the two decided to spend the day at home, just watching movies all day. Phoebe heard her phone buzz during their third screening of A Christmas Story, and she saw she had a text.

It was from Arnold: Want to talk. Come by around five?

Are you still mad at me?

I was never *mad* at you...irritated, yes, because you didn't just come clean right away, but you and I both know I can't stay away for long :)

My sappy pretty preppy nerd boy :')

So five?

Absolutely

Phoebe put her phone down and patted D.A.'s arm. "Can I borrow your car tonight?"

"Why?"

"Arnold wants me to come over."

D.A. grinned. "I might need my car tomorrow. I'll drop you off."

Arnold had given Ralphie and Carlos enough bar-money to keep them busy for the evening and night. Though, he figured Ralphie would ditch Carlos at some point and make his way to D.A. and Phoebe's, since D.A. would have the house to herself. Tim hadn't come back to the townhouse since the night of the party, but Arnold didn't care. He was still pissed at him. Carlos had said he was crashing at Keesha and Wanda's, but again, Arnold didn't care.

The only light in the living room/kitchen/dining area of the townhouse was from the Christmas tree, the menorah on the mantle place, and the candles on the dining table. Arnold was wearing the same suit he wore when he had proposed to Phoebe, and he had their dinner ordered from the country club restaurant, checking both meals for any trace of tree-nuts and peanuts.

It was ten-til-five, and he felt his heart pound. It was like he was proposing all over again. He had a replacement ring in his pocket, all ready to go. She would be there at any moment. A good sign, he felt, was that his nose pain and swelling had gone down. His nose was almost normal sized, but it was still too puffy for him to wear his glasses. Still, he didn't feel like he'd puke from the pain.

"Whatever you plan to do, don't!" Wanda came running in.

"Dammit, Wanda! Go home!"

She ran to him and grabbed his arms. "Don't propose to her! I still want you!"

"I've already proposed to her!" He took the ring box from his pocket. "This is the replacement ring!"

Wanda grabbed it. "Yoink!" And she took off running out the front door.

"Dammit, Wanda!"

Arnold ran after her, out into the cold, snowy evening. How far could she possibly get in heeled boots and a skirt? Then again, this was Wanda. He hated to think what the snow and salt on the sidewalk would do to his suit and dress shoes, both of which were designer and tailored for him.

"Wanda, come back!"

She ran for her black Range Rover parked across the street. She opened the driver's side door and got in. Arnold almost expected her to take off, but she didn't even start the engine. He ran to the door and pounded on the window.

"Give me the ring!" he shouted.

"No! Not until you promise to give me- us!- a second chance!"

"No! You cheated on me!"

"Two times! Big deal!"

He hit the window with his palm. "Give me the ring!"

"Take me back!"

"Give me the goddamn ring!"

"Dump her!"

Before he started to kick and punch the door, Dorothy Ann's car pulled up. Both she and Phoebe got out and ran over to Arnold.

"What's going on?" Phoebe asked.

Wanda held up the ring box. "It's mine now, loser!" She took the ring out and tried putting it on. "Damn, Terese! How does someone so bony have such sausage fingers?"

"I have large knuckles- hey! That's my ring!" Phoebe looked at Arnold with wide eyes. "How-?"

"I had your ring insured, of course," he said. "I got a replacement, free of charge, but now, I'm trying to get it back from a short lunatic."

Dorothy Ann went to the driver's side door. "Wanda, pop the hood. I see smoke coming from under it."

Wanda's jaw dropped. "What?"

She popped the hood, and D.A. went to the front of the vehicle. Moments later, she came back with the spark plugs. "She's not going anywhere."

Arnold smiled. "Clever."

His smile was soon gone as he and Phoebe turned towards Wanda and shouted at the same time, "Give me the ring!"

"Outwitted by brainy tits," Wanda sighed.

Arnold, D.A., and Phoebe all tried to stifle laughter as they imagined what Keesha would have said. Wanda got out, and just as she was about to give Phoebe the ring, she turned, as if to throw it. Seeing D.A. standing behind her, she refrained from throwing, turned back around, and sighed as she gave Phoebe the ring. Phoebe quickly pocketed it.

"Fine. But this isn't over!"

D.A. put the spark plugs back. "Go home, Wanda."

"Nah. I'm going to the bars. A seven-and-seven should help me forget-" She gestured towards Arnold and Phoebe. "-this."

She got in the Range Rover and took off. D.A. took that as her leave, going to her car, and Arnold escorted Phoebe back in the townhouse. He made sure the door was locked, as if to keep any more interruptions from happening.

"Lucky D.A. was here," Phoebe said.

"Things have gotten better since she got back," Arnold said.

"She really is our luck charm, huh?"

Arnold wrapped his arms around her and gave her a kiss. "As much as I hate to admit it, yeah. Yeah, she is."

Phoebe ran her hands down his suit jacket. "Why didn't you tell me to dress up? Now I feel so underdressed in my sweats."

He smiled. "I don't know...I think it's kind of us. Me, dapper, and you, in sweats."

She moved her arms so she was holding him around his waist, and she laughed. "That is sadly true."

Arnold pulled back enough to reach for a glass of wine sitting on the table. "Here's to the worst Chrismukkah ever. It was so bad, we had to end it early."

"May we never have a worst one."

"Which means Dorothy Ann is not allowed to go out of town without us."

Phoebe didn't know how to end it, so she said, "Uhm, amen."

note: Well, hope you enjoyed this little fic. May your Chrismukkahs never be as bad as Arnold and Phoebe's was in this story.