# Christmas Visit

Title: Christmas Visit
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Fang, Naser, Samantha, Ripley
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: F4L
Summary: Anon visits Fang over Christmas break.
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"Alright, kid, this is the place."
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This town really does have only one taxi driver. That, or all of them are clones of an ancient ur driver. The yellow raptor in the driver's seat looks back at me, his sly grin never faltering as he waits for me to fish out the bundle of glued together faux leather I call a wallet. Who would have thought an inanimate object could be so good at evading me. Understandably, it fears for its life, knowing little more than abuse and starvation, with my financial situation being what it is. Money never stopped being a problem, even with a generous scholarship. All the textbooks, university paperwork fees, and other miscellaneous bullshit popping up at the worst time left little to go around in the end. No wallet can escape its fate. It has no choice but to surrender its meager contents. I don't even bother counting the money before handing it to the driver. Covering the fare would already be a Christmas miracle. The driver doesn't immediately snatch up the proffered cash as is so customary of their kind.
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"Say, this address is kinda close to that girl's house you went to prom last year." His grin widens, somehow, "You planning a surprise visit?"
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For a moment, I wonder how the hell he ever remembers me, then I think back to how I looked after getting frisky with a bollard. I wouldn't forget me either.
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"So what if I am?"
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Judging by his genuine smile, he seems incredibly pleased with my response.
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"Hah! I knew you two had something special happening back there." He waves dismissively at the money being offered. "It's on the house, kid."
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If I knew I'd be getting a wish granted, I'd have asked for something grander. Denying the raptor a chance to change his mind, I grab my suitcase and dart out onto the brightly illuminated sidewalk.
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"Merry Christmas!"
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Before I know it, the taxi is already rounding the corner. The sound of its roaring engine and screeching tires quickly faded, leaving only silence. It must be a busy night for the guy. I picked this spot a couple of minutes from Fang's house to save what little money I had left and to give me the element of surprise. Oh, she does know I'm coming to visit for the holidays. I'd have loved to have kept it a complete secret, but the worry that she might do the same and fly over to visit me at the same time was a risk neither of us was willing to take. Unlike the movies, we want to spend what little free time we have together instead of chasing each other across the country. So, she does know I'm coming. The small detail that I'm coming today instead of tomorrow is what I hope will be enough to surprise her.
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Volcaldera Bluffs never really got that cold, thanks to its seaside location. Not the most festive, due to the lack of snow. A welcomed reprieve from the frozen hellhole that my university calls home all the same. Fang's neighborhood is just like I remember it, minus the occasional dino Santa decoration and palm tree covered in Christmas lights. The latter still feels deeply wrong. I was surprised she'd be spending the holidays at her parent's place instead of her apartment. The ptero didn't go any further into explaining her reasoning beyond not wanting to be around Naomi and her new "special friend" for a while. The copious amounts of dry heaving really helped drive her point across.
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Standing in front of the Aaron residence front door, I can't help but pause. I haven't seen my ptero gf in person in months, and there was only so much we could do over the phone. This should be the easiest part, yet here I am, standing and hesitating like an idiot with butterflies in my stomach. At least I don't have to debate whether to knock or text Fang to announce my presence. Texting her would have obviously ruined the surprise. Knocking on the door was also unnecessary, with Ripley so conveniently opening up the door for me. Surely a coincidence, but I can't shake the feeling the patriarch somehow sensed my presence. I just stand in front of him, frozen in place like a deer caught in headlights. A suppressed memory of Ripley talking about how he got those trophies resurfaced unbiddenly. It's like my subconscious is conspiring against me.
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"What's the matter, son? Cat got your tongue?"
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I shouldn't be sweating so much in this cold. It can't be good for me. Neither is clenching my sphincter so tight it might collapse into a black hole. The patriarch disapproves of my silence, his previously impassive face showing a hint of annoyance.
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"Well?"
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I have to say something. Hopefully, it won't be too stupid.
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"Not at all sir, I still have it."
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Shit.
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"W-what I meant to say was, uh, Merry Christmas."
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Once again, I've made a fool of myself. My consolation prize is that Ripley's slight annoyance was replaced with an ever-so-small smirk. It would have been preferable if it wasn't at my expense, but I'll count it as a win anyway. The old saying once again proves to be true. The way to your girlfriend's father's heart is by dropping a bowling ball on your foot and screaming for over seven minutes.
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"Merry Christmas to you too, boy."
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The gargantuan ptero slowly exhales, shaking his head as he does. Over time he has become somewhat accepting of me. Perhaps 'accepting' is too strong of a word. Tolerate being a much more appropriate choice. Whether it was by his own free will or just gradually being worn down by Fang and Samantha is anyone's guess. He calls out with a voice loud enough to carry his words across the entire house and a good part of the neighborhood.
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"Lucy! It's for you!"
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For a moment, nothing indicates Ripley was heard. The sound of fast-approaching stomping confirms Fang hasn't suddenly gone deaf. Judging by the sound of the approaching footsteps, she's still wearing combat boots. One wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of a kick delivered by those if at all possible.
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"Is it those fucking carolers again?! How many times do I have to tell them I'm busy this ye-"
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Angry is an understatement. Fang is still mostly the same as the last time I saw her. Wearing the same punk rock outfit as she did in high school, not that I'm complaining. The only change the ptero made to her appearance was replacing the tiny skull necklace with the amber pendant I got for her last Christmas. If the selfies she sent me over the last year are of any indication, she has rarely taken it off since last Christmas. Those carolers must have really gotten to her, or she's suddenly got really good at acting. Despite the murderous expression on her, she still looks absolutely adorable. You just have to ignore the fact that's she's one wrong word away from filleting someone with her claws. Even cuter is how she went from pissed off, to shocked, to confused, to nearly knocking me off my feet in a second. Once again, I'm swaddled in the soft feathery embrace that is Fang's wings. Feels good to be back.
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"AAAAAAAAA, YOU'RE A DAY EARLY. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE COMING TODAY?"
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Risking tinnitus is a small price to pay to see her this happy. I pull her closer to me, savoring the softness of her feathers underneath my fingers, the smell of shampoo on her gorgeous flowing hair as I rest my head on her shoulder. Feels like I've died and gone to heaven, and this time there's no Trish around to ruin the moment. Ripley clearing his throat reminds me to kick myself later for jinxing it.
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Here I am, hugging his daughter in front of him. At least I've managed to keep my hands on parts of Fang's body that are appropriate. Then again, I doubt any area is considered appropriate to him. Fang and I slowly separate, the cool winter air causing the monochromatic ptero to shiver.
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"Come on, let's go inside before I turn into a ptero popsicle."
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Taking my hand in hers, Fang beckons me to follow her inside where it's warm. As we pass Ripley, I can't help but slightly flinch as he raises one of his tree-trunk-sized arms. I was expecting him to perform one of his patented bone-crushing moves on my shoulder. As a reminder to not try anything foolish. Instead, all the man does is close the door behind us. It truly is a Christmas miracle. Or he's just waiting for me to give him an excuse before he uses my disemboweled body for a ritual sacrifice.
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A cacophony of sound emanates from the kitchen as we make our way inside. Samantha is busy working her magic to the tune of rattling pots, whistling kettles, and the rhythmic sound of a knife on a cutting board. From the looks of it, she's making enough food to feed an army.
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"Fang, are you expecting more guests?"
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"What? No, we're not. It's just us."
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I motion towards all the food that is in various stages of preparation.
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"But, how does your mom expect all of this to be eaten before going bad?"
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A shrug is all I get for my troubles. Samantha moves with grace, darting between the stove, the countertop, and the fridge, with speeds that seem supernatural at times. Simultaneously juggling several dishes doesn't prevent her from noticing a new arrival.
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"Hello, dear." The smile on her face makes me feel more welcomed than I ever was back home, "Dinner won't be ready for a few more hours."
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Before I can assure her I'm in no rush, she produces a stacked tray of treats, each looking more delectable than the last.
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"Help yourself to a snack while you wait."
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Fang doesn't wait to be asked and grabs a few morsels with her free hand, refusing to let go of mine, even at the expense of having a reduced snack carrying capacity. She's already finishing up her second while I'm still paralyzed by all the choices.
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"God, just pick something already, dweeb."
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I really don't perform well under pressure, they all look so good, and now I'm starting to look rude by not taking anything. In the end, Fang becomes tired of my indecisiveness and picks something for me. A roll with ground poppy seed filling.
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"Here, the good stuff." She blushes slightly, "And I'm not just saying that because I helped make it."
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Naser appears from around the corner, beckoned by the alluring aroma of fresh pastries. His usual garish jacket is replaced by a sweater that makes his standard outfits look subdued and in good taste.
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"Licking the spoon doesn't count as helping, sis."
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"Shut up, Hawkwing."
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With a shit-eating grin, Naser starts picking out his favorite goodies before noticing me, "Hey man, Merry Christmas."
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My mouth is too full of Fang's choice of snack to talk, leaving me with no other option but to nod back in reciprocation. It is undoubtedly delicious, and I immediately crave more. Although, the previously acquired information might have made my judgment ever so slightly biased. Samantha puts the tray away before we can pick it clean like a trio of vultures.
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"Pace yourselves. After dinner, you can eat all the snacks you can handle."
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The matriarch returns to the kitchen to continue working her magic, leaving the rest of us standing there dejected. A people denied their delicacies. The moping is short-lived, with Naser returning to the living room to resume whatever he was doing before the siren call of sweets clouded his mind. Fang lightly tugs at my hand, beckoning me onwards.
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"Come on, let's get you settled in."
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"Yeah, let's. Which room am I staying in, though."
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Naser immediately calls out from the living room, betraying he was eavesdropping.
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"Not mine. Sorry, bro."
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Fang starts acting unusually coy, playing with her hair while pretending she's just thought of the idea.
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"You can always stay in mine if you want."
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"He's staying in the guest room."
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Ripley sure likes putting the tactic of standing still to remain unnoticed to good use. I could have sworn he just appeared out of thin air. I'd assure Ripley that I have no intentions of trying anything inappropriate under his roof. As long as me staying over for the holidays also counts as inappropriate. Then we'd have a problem. The only issue is, he wouldn't believe me for a second. Hell, I don't believe me. Fang immediately drops her act and starts gearing up for an argument. No words exit her snout, whatever she was about to say dying on her lips. For a moment, I thought Fang was just unwilling to ruing the evening by starting a shouting match with her dad. But the look on her face reveals she'd just decided on getting what she wants through different, more clandestine means. The stealth approach to her much more preferred guns blazing approach, if you will. Fang claps her hands and puts on a fake cheery voice.
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"Alright. Alright, the guest room it is. Come on, Anon. Let me show you where it is."
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With the matter seemingly settled, she grabs my hand and beckons onwards up the stairs. Ripley knows he miscalculated somewhere, yet with Fang agreeing to his demands, he doesn't have a reason to argue any further. All he can do is watch our ascent up the staircase, knowing he made an error somewhere. Cresting the top, I can't help but prod Fang on revealing her plan.
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"Thought you were gonna start a fight with your dad, sweet tooth."
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The double whammy of questioning her willingness to argue and the pet name she loves to hate leaves Fang speechless and blushing for several seconds. It doesn't last long, with the ptero regaining her voice as we reach the front door of what I assume is the guest room.
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"First of, I thought I told you to not call me that." A quick elbow jab to the ribs makes it clear she's serious. The pointiness of those feathers always catches me off guard, no matter how many times I get poked by them.
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"Second, I promised myself I wouldn't be the one starting an argument for the holidays this year."
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She leans forward, her voice barely above that of a whisper, ensuring I'm the only one that can hear what she has to say.
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"Besides, the guest room is right across from mine." Fang makes a point by motioning towards her room with her beak, "If one were to get lost, especially someone not used to the layout of the house, and walked into the wrong room..."
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There is no need to elaborate further. Even my clueless ass managed to get the idea. Confident I've managed to comprehend the 'elaborate' plan, Fang pulls back and opens up the door we've been camping in front of. Through the doorway is a nice if plain-looking room. Guess if no one actually uses it, there's no point in decorations. Just leaves more things on which dust can gather. Exhausted from the flight and the taxi ride, I really don't feel like unpacking. The suitcase can stay next to the bed until I'm a bit more freshened up.
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"Oh, and Anon, one more thing."
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I turn around to see Fang standing right next to me. With eyes half-closed and a seductive smile on her lips, she places one hand on my shoulder and the other on the back of my head. Time slows down to a crawl as I stare into her beautiful amber eyes. I place my own hands around her slender waist and pull her closer to me. Close enough to feel her heartbeat next to mine. If the words brought forth by her angelic voice were the last thing I ever heard, I'd die a happy man.
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"Merry Christmas, Anon. I love you."