A Late Christmas Gift 03

One of five egg timers dinged and Marjorie opened the oven to baste the bird, requiring Sugarbell to arch herself above the updraft of hot, deliciously turkey-y air. She closed her eyes to immerse herself in the scent, taking it apart in her mind so that she could surprise Rick at a later date with his own mother's spice mix.

"Cinnamon?" Sugarbell asked once Marjorie had a second of peace. "Smells wonderful. Experimental~ But Rick has nothing but praise for your cooking, so I'm sure it'll be great."

Marjorie raised a brow. "You caught that? I only add a teaspoon for the fragrance; that's the secret ingredient."

"I have a relative who uses cinnamon in anything and everything, and sometimes that turns out well. I like it on curry steak."

"Curry... steak?"

Sugarbell shrugged. "Fusion cuisine. Actually, he was trying to make pepper steak, but wanted to use that spice mix. We didn't make the connection until we tasted it. I know, I know that you're not supposed to use beef in Indian cooking, but there's the rub: it was an English curry." She poked her tongue from between her lips and giggled. "Then there's Honeybun, who can't seem to catch a break, but at least now we know that you can't leave a steak in honey for a week and expect the result to be edible."

"Honeybun? Your family sure does like its nicknames, doesn't it?"

"No, that's his given name."

"His?"

"His." Sugarbell nodded. There was no need to say that Honeybun looked nearly as feminine as she did... "The clan tends to go for sweets for naming ideas. At least, my branch of the family does, has for a long time." Nearly two-thousand years was 'a long time' by anyone's definition but God's.

"So then," Marjorie sat herself on a centrally-placed stool as commandant of the kitchen. "a large, Catholic family, I assume?"

"Pretty much." Did you count as Catholic when your family's belief was older than the institution in question? A point of contention between the Sidhe's belief in the older ancestral gods and a plainly-Christian profession... "But don't think that means I'm not alright with Rick being Protestant."

"Hm." Marjorie appeared to approve. "Not a conversation to be had on Christmas eve, I think. Religion and politics, eh?"

The conversation ground to a near halt as several dishes had to be finished off in quick succession, allowing only passing, meaningless platitudes. But at least Sugarbell saw Marjorie acclimate to her presence, and she could insert herself in small ways that didn't interrupt the woman's flow over time, mostly dishing up finished foodstuff and transferring them to the table without allowing the gravy to go more than a few seconds without being stirred. This was more like it had been at home a long, long time ago when Sugarbell had been learning the movements that everyone else already knew, and they'd gone out of their way to ensure the dance went as smoothly as ever around her stumbling. She'd been on the other side of that learning curve, with younger elfs, but those young elfs knew that it was happening and played around within it. With Marjorie, Sugarbell could feel the stress just sloughing off the woman's mind as she was enveloped in the warm rhythm of the kitchen.

Everything was done and still hot on the table when the other three arrived. Rick still looked hesitant to get back into the groove he'd left behind, but he was familiar with this space, leaning up against the chimney to be out of the way. Sugarbell had only stepped out of the kitchen when Dave, a towering, chubby presence, came and offered a meaty hand for the shaking, which she did excitedly with both hands.

"So you're the famous Dave!?" she said. "Rick's told me all about you~" Only recently, but he had.

"Infamous is more like it, then," he said, then much more quietly, "Well, sup's up, let's chow down before it goes cold and Marge gets mad at me for flappin' gums."

On cue, Marjorie clapped to gain the attention of the room. "Alright everyone, we've got sodas chilling in the cooler in the garage, or wine, I'll pour if you want it, and milk in the fridge. Go ahead and claim a seat and we'll pray."

Sugarbell sat between Katherine and Rick at the far end of the table with a glass of milk; she wanted to be entirely sober to soak in the atmosphere. Marjorie sat with Dave at the head of the table and everything slowed down as the five of them formed a chain with their hands and closed their eyes.

"Dear lord," Marjorie said, "thank you for allowing us all to be together today, for the food that we are about to enjoy and the bounty that made it possible. We thank you for letting us meet this fine, young woman, and ask that you bless her as you bless us all. We ask for the strength to overcome the year to come and to meet the trials that you have for us with open hearts. Amen."

Warmth spread from within Sugarbell's heart. She received an encouraging squeeze of the hand from both sides before she opened her eyes.

So then they ate turkey and corn casserole and green beans and rolls until it felt like nobody could cram another bite down their gullets. Rick and Dave retired first to the living room to spread out on the recliners in there and try to digest while the girls remained to make small talk long past the point that the menfolk would have been able to tolerate.

Then there was pie, three kinds, and ice cream to go along with it. And Katherine insisted on all of them watching a Christmas movie that she'd brought along for the occasion: an older one from the claymation days which was nonetheless appreciated and enjoyed by all of those present who hadn't fallen into too deep a food coma. Sugarbell put herself into Rick's arms and pretended to fall asleep so that she would be cuddled well into the third movie.

And Katherine eventually got bored and took Sugarbell with her to the guest room, leaving Rick on the couch with a comforter.

The house creaked a little as the sun went down. How hot could it have possibly gotten on such a cloudy day? Sugarbell fit into Katherine's arms neatly, head resting on the woman's soft breasts, heavenly warmth beneath the covers. And she felt Katherine's lips on her forehead.

"Did you know I used to dress him up in dresses, ribbons in his hair?" Katherine whispered. "I wanted a sister. We probably have the pictures sitting around here somewhere, he wasn't able to find all of the caches to burn them."

"I want 'em. All of them. Send copies," Sugarbell mumbled. "So adorable~" She could almost see his little face scrunched up in frustration. "You could dress me up as much as you like, you know. Promise I won't get tired of it."

Katherine petted Sugarbell's back. "Thank you..."

"For what?"

"For making him come back for once. But we can save the sappy stuff for later, can't we? The real question is: how long were you going to wait before going out to be with him?"

Sugarbell giggled. "I was going to at least wait for you to fall asleep, I promise."

"Well? Get on out of here. He's probably waiting for you now."

-o-

It wasn't the most comfortable couch in the world, but Rick knew the best angles to lay himself into and managed to nod off a while into the night. The creaks in this old house, built by his own grandfather, pulled him down and held him in a memory, a fugue of memories which amounted to a warm hug he wasn't able to appreciate while it was being given. He'd been such a pain in the ass, hadn't he?

Dinner hadn't been as quiet as he remembered past dinners. Dave was a joker.

"And I tell him," Dave had said, "they don't bury the survivors!"

Sugarbell snorted into her milk.

"Haven't heard that one before, hon? I've got a million of them; the kids love 'em. Gotta tell the old jokes to the new generation or they'll forget 'em. Like: a baby seal walks into a club."

He waited while Sugarbell shot a glare across the table.

"Animal lover? Sorry..."

"Huh? Was that a joke?" she said. "I prefer adult seal, feeds more. You kill the babies, there's fewer seals next year. It's just wasteful."

Rick set down his fork so that he could mediate before anyone else jumped in; thankfully the others were in the middle of a bite. "See, Sugarbell is from up North." So far North that it would take a scientific expedition to get her home if magic weren't an option, and far enough North that there probably weren't seals to hunt, not that Rick knew anything about that. "Dave, you're working with kids now?"

"Ah, yeah," Dave said, getting back his bearings after a few seconds of embarrassed floundering. "I'm at the high school now, the charter school, so they also use me for a few of the advanced middle school classes across campus. That's right, you were never in any of my classrooms, and I think that was a good idea, less distractions. We have fun."

"You're a math teacher, it can't be that fun," Rick said.

Katherine said, "Don't get him started, please, or he'll bust out one of his lesson plans. They actually trust him enough to write all of the story problems, and they're all topical: pop-culture. I don't know how his kids get through them without cringing to death."

Dave said, "That's what makes it endearing. If I knew anything about any of it, I'd just be a creepy old guy trying to be hip with the kids, so spouting off makes them think they're getting one over on me. I'm the butt of the joke, see?"

Sugarbell giggled. "You are pretty funny-"

"See? She gets it!"

"-looking~" Sugarbell finished, dimples flashing before hiding her face behind her sleeve and coming back up with more dignity. "I actually work with kids a lot, too, sir, but I don't get to talk to them much. There is a tour of the workshop once a year, but all of those jokes are canned and the job of guide is chosen by lottery, so I've only done it twice. But they love seeing how the toys are made, and then they get to sit on Santa's lap, and they go away happy. It's a fun day all around."

"That's nice," Dave said. "So your company hires one of those mall Santas every year? Kathy did say you worked at a toy factory, didn't she?"

Sugarbell smiled and Rick had to hide his own amusement in how easily she got away with telling the truth straight to their faces.

"Actually, the boss likes to dress like Santa." Of course he did, there wasn't any way for him not to dress like Santa. "He's very dedicated to the role." Because it's his life. "So he's been doing it since the company's founding." A millennia+ ago. "But I'll admit that it's pretty difficult to get in most days; it's a relatively isolated location." Relative to what? The Nemo point? "I can get you all tickets next year, if you don't mind travelling, and eating up your Christmas eve." Really? Supposing she didn't care too much about keeping her supernatural nature a secret; no good reason aside from accusations of insanity to avoid the fact...

Dave patted Marjorie's hand as if to say he would answer for them both. "I think we'll have to settle with pictures, so we don't cramp your style for the kids."

Marjorie asked, "Speaking of settling, are you two planning on settling down anytime soon?"

It had been an inopportune time to be drinking. Rick sputtered, but Sugarbell was ready to pounce on the question. "Oh, I think we'd all like an answer to that, buddy boy~" The light in her eyes as she teased him, she could be having the time of her life.

Katherine looked up from a glass of wine, her second. "How many babies do you want, Sug?"

"That's... personal." Sugarbell placed her hand on Rick's lap, dancing fingertips up and down his thigh.

Marjorie scolded Katherine, but went on to imply that she too was interested on how many grandchildren she could expect, and how soon. The conversation eventually turned such that Rick's mother had to be convinced that Sugarbell was already pregnant, in the first few months, and hadn't found a way to break the happy news. Hogwash; Rick had already told her that he'd support however big a family she wanted, that he'd move them somewhere that their children had space to play outside. She would have pounced on him with the news if she'd finally taken on. Anyway, Katherine was just pointing fingers away from herself so that mom wouldn't bring up the subject of boyfriends and the lack of them.

She'd swill more wine throughout the meal and folded herself over Sugarbell in her chair, a tipsy cuddlebug that Sugarbell gladly suffered cheek to cheek. They'd be such great sisters in law, Rick thought.

Mom made sure that Sugarbell got the largest piece of pie, the first slice that couldn't come out without a slump of filling from around it. Then a scoop of ice cream, then a piece of the chocolate pie, then pumpkin, all of which met Sugarbell's moaned satisfaction. By the time dessert was put away, she'd sprawled out on the second recliner, mirroring Dave in rubbing bellies.

It felt as though she'd been there all along and was merely slotting back into a space which had lain empty... Her ease helped Rick actually relax.

He felt a weight on his chest in the present and a thin stream of breath blown across his cheek to rouse him gently back into the waking world. It didn't take more than an moment to know who was there, who had wriggled underneath his blanket and pulled his arm around her slender waist, whose small, firm breasts pressed into his chest. And to tease her, he kept his eyes shut, but it was impossible to keep a grin off his face.

She whispered, her breath soft against his cheek, "Oh noes~ He went to sleep without waiting for me, whatever shall I do?" Her fingertips landed on his waist and prodded up underneath the hem of his shirt, warm hands held his belly. "Maybe I should tickle him awake?" She drew her tongue up the side of his neck and nibbled his earlobe, blew in another puff of air that made him jump underneath her. "No? What a bother, I'll just have to start pinching."

One hand ran around to Rick's butt and he shot up, Sugarbell straddling his lap, and she pinched him regardless.

"Did I actually wake you up?" she asked, placing a hand on his chest and guiding him back down on the couch. Her eyes glittered from the Christmas lights strung up on the eaves out the window; it was barely visible in the dimness the way her nipples tented her nightshirt until she bent down to lay her head in the crook of Rick's neck. "This is fun. We should sneak around together more often."

Rick grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her shoulders, stroked her back idly while she nuzzled deeper into their embrace. Like a pillow under his chin, her fluffy, blonde hair rubbing against his skin gave off the subtle scent of her peppermint shampoo. "And who are we going to sneak around, once we leave?" he said.

She shrugged. "There's always someone around. I haven't been to your work very often, but that stairwell looked like a cozy nook. Bet there's snogging down there every day."

"Nah, I'd be too tempted to show you off to everyone. I'm already getting comments all the time about the lunches you pack for me; one guy has been asking if you could make extra for him one day."

Sugarbell tittered happily. "I'd be glad to. Making food for two or three people is the same thing."

He squeezed her tightly. "No, he's not getting a taste. Mine."

"You know, happiness shared is happiness multiplied." She sighed, the mellow curves of her body melting into him, one leg twisting around his. "Whatever am I going to do about my selfish, greedy boy toy? Perhaps I'll make a lunch so large that he'll not be able to finish it all without help, and God help him if he comes home with leftovers." She was smiling, he could tell even though her face was buried in his neck. One kiss, one bite. "It's alright. One step at a time and we'll get there eventually; I know you don't love those people."

And didn't like talking about it. Who was the last friend he'd made? Sugarbell felt the air change and just snuggled, waiting patiently for him to come back to the conversation with his contribution when he was good and ready.

"What do you think of my family?" he said. "I know they aren't as rambunctious as yours, and not nearly as many of them. And I can't give you the kind of gift that would measure up to what you gave me last year..."

"You can't give me a girlfriend? I'd assumed as much, but I was hoping for a boyfriend anyway."

"You know what I meant."

"I know that you're being silly." Sugarbell reared up so they were nose to nose and her emerald eyes twinkled inches above his. Her lips met his, light and tender as falling flower petals for only a moment, an affirmation without lust, only love. "And I love your family. If you had only taken me here, that would have been a wonderful gift. But you know that gifts aren't measured like that, you know that. It's enough that you think of me."

"I don't think it is enough..." He reached down to the floor where he'd put his coat before going to sleep and dug a small box out of its pocket. "I was going to give you your present tomorrow, after everything, but this feels right to me."

Sugarbell straddled his waist and allowed him to place the tiny present into her palm. She opened it carefully, without a single tear in the paper, even though her breath hitched once she realized what she was holding; she went to the trouble of folding the wrapping paper and set it aside reverently. She was trembling with anticipation as she plucked the ring from its tiny black box.

"I know it hasn't been all that long," Rick said. "Or maybe it has been. I don't know how long you're supposed to wait before it's weird on one side or the other, but I wanted you to have this." He tried to sit up and enfold her in his arms again, but she put a hand on his chest, forbidding it while she turned the tiny, golden ring in the twinkling light. "Um, you don't have to give me your answer right now..."

"I love it." Sugarbell slipped the ring onto her finger and admired the small, inset stone. "Emerald, isn't it?"

"Like your eyes. It feels corny now that I'm saying it out loud."

She chuckled. "I like corny. Corny is wonderful." She lay atop him and kissed him more deeply, stealing his breath with her tongue. "Yes."

"Huh?"

"Yes, I'll marry you. Of course I will."

The stress that Rick had been carrying ever since that day in the jeweler's shop evaporated in an instant and left behind the warmth of their embrace.

"But..." she said.

"But what?"

She smiled. "But that isn't why I came out here, now, is it? Can you guess what I want?"

"Sugarbell, my mom is just down the hall..." There was a lump in his throat as he figured it out.

"I'll be quiet, so you should be quiet."

There wasn't enough time to make a counterpoint before her hand was down his pants and had hold of the pertinent object.

"He seems happy to see me, isn't he?" She waggled his hard dick; it had already been rubbing against her hip from within its cloth prison.

"I never said I didn't want to do it..." Rick said. He tried again to get up, play a more active role, but Sugarbell still wouldn't let him.

"Lie back, lover, my fiancee~" she cooed. "Let me take care of you."

She took the lead, throwing off the blanket as an obstruction and went to his feet to tug off his pants. Rick's cock was only exposed to the cold air for a moment as his pants were taken off his ankles, Sugarbell bent inward and rested its girth against her warm cheek, a pointed ear resting on his thigh. As if it were delicious, she ran her tongue up from the base and supped on the pearl of precum that had gathered on the tip with a tiny moan of pleasure.

"Salty~" she said, and went back to her task. Long, luxurious licks and delicate nibbles, her tongue ran up and down his shaft in a way that would never give him the release of orgasm; she wanted to take her time. One hand cradled his balls and massaged them, making it harder to stay quiet. Not only to keep their activities secret, he wanted to be silent so that he could hear Sugarbell's breath, her little moans, the smack of her lips. He set his hands on her head and gently petted her fluffy hair, encouraging her to savor the moment.