Mistletoe '04: Untitled

The presents had been opened; shards of thick brown paper had littered the main room, Chris slowly feeding them into the fire as they'd sat and admired the gifts, admired one another's company.

Then more drink, more food, more than any of them needed and much more than any of them usually had was shared liberally, gifts to them all, from them all.

In the small hours they'd bunked down together, hazy with warmth and comfort and their familial bond, the sweaty toil from the summer on Chris' cabin to expand its hospitality now making good for them all.

Vin lay, his own perfect gift hastily unwrapped and pulled close to be thoroughly, ardently admired. They'd laughed and tumbled into their bed - theirs in their small room, just off the kitchen. Then they'd kept laughing, finding themselves doing much more.

Eventually Buck had yelled at them for quiet.

Which they now were, sated and curled close in a warm knot, Ezra asleep, warm breath against his throat, strong fingers firm around his arm, a gentle snow sure not to outlast tomorrow's breaking dawn drifting slowly to the ground.

End