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'Tis the Season

By: SweetestThing



It was near 4 pm on December 24th when Kathleen Leary pulled her car into the parking lot of Harrison Hall, one of the larger dormitories on the campus of Burling College. It was easy finding a spot. Most of the students had already gone home for the holidays. So Kathleen pulled into the nearest open spot and exited the vehicle. It was a cold winter and the campus of the small college, idyllic though it might look, had gotten a bit of snow. The 44 year old woman jumped down from the driver's side. 

"Want me to come with?" This was the voice from the passenger seat. It was her husband Roy who, despite the offer, didn't look up from the Blackberry he was furiously typing into. Roy looked like he'd never really settled on whether he wanted to look like the record-store clerk he was when the two had met 22 years ago or the middle-aged divorce lawyer that he'd become. His greying hair was still somewhat unruly and he still had his black-rimmed glasses and Kathleen knew that there was probably some old, awful concert T-shirt underneath his suit. Kathleen smiled warmly at her goofy dork of a husband as she straightened her coat and checked her make-up in the side mirror. 

"No dear," Kathleen shivered as the cold ran through her. "Vanessa said she'd be waiting in the lobby ready to go so hopefully I'll be in and out."

"One of the Leary women on time to go when she says she will be?" Roy asked with a wry smile, despite not averting his attention from his messaging for a second. "You did pack emergency supplies in the glove box, right?"

"Such a shame," Kathleen said sweetly as she looked back into the car "That they make you men handsome or funny. Never both."

That remark did make Roy look up for a second.

"So, wait, am I not funny but I'm handsome or was that funny and I'm ugly?" 

"Something to think about while you wait, I suppose" Kathleen laughed as she closed the door on him, watching as snow fell from the door frame onto the paved lot. Kathleen bundled her coat to her as she quickly made her way into the large dormitory and, upon discovering that her daughter wasn't actually waiting for her, approached the reception desk. There was a young man behind the sparsely decorated counter, leafing through a comic book. 

"Hi, Kathleen Leary" She said to the shaggy looking receptionist.

"Sorry, we don't have a Kathleen Leary here. You could try Davis Hall, cross-campus" the young man put down his buck and smiled at her warmly. Kathleen could see that his eyes were quite red, and the unmistakable smell of freshly smoked pot hit her. Kathleen would have shook her head in disapproval but, well, she'd married someone vaguely like this young man. Still she wasn't entirely pleased that her daughter's safety was partly in the hands of a guy who would be working while high.

"No, I am Kathleen Leary. I'm here for Vanessa Leary. She's in 7C." Kathleen explained slowly to the stoned gentleman. He nodded his understanding and reached over to a nearby microphone. He pressed a button and Kathleen heard his voice come on over the intercom.

"Cool. Cool. I'm Jean-Sebastien Duchamps. Most people just call me French though. Cause of the name, I suspect. Or because my folks are French. Or a mix of both, maybe? Vanessa doesn't though, she's cool." The young man rambled for a while before realizing what he was doing. "Anyways. I'll call 'Nessa down for you though and you can wait for her in the lounge."

Kathleen removed her hat and coat as she walked from the desk, sighing as she realized she was going to be waiting for her Daughter after all. Not the time, exactly, so much as it meant that Roy had been right. Kathleen was a striking woman, though, so she didn't mind making Roy occasionally wait for her. She had long blonde hair and a figure that remained curved and toned in all of the places she wanted it to. Dressed in a fairly tight sweater and jeans, Kathleen took some delight in noticing a head or two turn among the handful of male students still milling about the lounge area.

She sat on a couch opposite two boys in jackets that indicated they played some sort of sport at the school and gave them a small smile. She reached into her purse for her own phone when the crackling of the intercom rang out

"Vanessa Leary in 7C" Came French's unmistakble drawl "I think, like, your sister is here to pick you up."

Kathleen smiled broadly to herself. Sister. He'd assumed she was Vanessa's sister. She knew she shouldn't care and that it was horribly vain and that she looked good for any age but...

"Fuck me, Vanessa Leary?" Exclaimed one of the young men sitting opposite her. Kathleen looked up.

"Dude, I know, she's so fucking smoking." The other one replied

"She's totally fucking cold though. Shot me down, like, a million times." 

Kathleen smiled a little at that news.

"Yeah, I think she's got someone back home. Shot down everyone as far as I know."

Kathleen smiled more

"Still, you have no idea how many times I've thought about grabbing two handfuls of those huge...."

"Guys!" Kathleen finally spoke up, not having any interest in hearing the end of that sentence. The two guys looked up and to her, one of them looking a little sheepish.

Kathleen leaned towards them.

"Here's the thing boys." Kathleen looked at them cold and hard, "That's my baby girl you're talking about."

Now they both looked embarrassed. 

"Jeez, sorry Ma'am." 

"Don't be sorry." Kathleen continued "Just know something simple. If either you ever, ever say anything or even think anything disrespectful about my daughter again, you should know that my father was a Marine sharpshooter. And I was a Daddy's girl. And I'm so good with his old M40A1 that I could take your little pricks off without you even hearing the shot."

Kathleen stood up and excused herself from the lounge and the two terrified boys but not before adding the cap to her threat.

"And I know where you both live."

Kathleen returned to the reception desk and waited, looking up at the bank of elevators in the hope that any of them were on 7 or descending. One was coming down from the 16th floor.

"Any idea when she'll be down?" the impatient Mother asked the receptionist

"Nope." French shrugged. "I could call her again if you like. Or if you're bored I'd totally make out with you for a bit."

Kathleen smiled. His come on was cute and clumsy, not sleazy. She just laughed and turned back to the elevators.

"Oh Frenchy, dear, I would eat you alive." Kathleen said to no one in particular as the descending elevator finally opened. A few students shuffled out before the familiar sight of her daughter also came out. Vanessa was, as the obnoxious jocks had so crudely said, a radiant beauty of a girl. Shoulder length brown hair framed a rounded, tanned face that was at once impressively, classically beautiful and yet invitingly warm and friendly that were highlight by two of the biggest, brightest green eyes anyone could remember seeing. Her lips often curled into a smile that seemed to be joyful, funny, sweet and a little mischievous. She was shorter than her mother but with even more dangerous curves, large, full breasts, narrow waist, flaring out to womanly hips. She was holding her coat and a large suitcase in her hands as she came from the elevator.

"Mom?" Vanessa smiled as she saw her mother leaning against the reception desk. 

"Hey baby girl" Kathleen smiled broadly at her daughter and embraced her warmly. The two hugged briefly before Kathleen broke the hug to look at her daughter.

"God, you're getting so skinny! Are you eating at all?" Kathleen said with disapproval. It was somewhat true. Vanessa had lost any last vestiges of baby-fat and looked far more adult than she had only a few months prior when she'd left. 

"I eat lots mom." Vanessa nodded

"Because I bagged a gorgeous 8 point white tail a couple weeks ago and the freezer is just full of game, so I am going to not stop feeding you for a month."

"Break's only two weeks, Mom" Vanessa laughed as she buttoned her coat up over her sweater and made her way over to the reception desk. She had a warm smile when she did. "Thanks for calling me down, Jean-Sebastien."

"No probs, Ness." French smiled. "Enjoy your break."

"C'mon Kiddo," Kathleen also fastened her coat. "We should go rescue your father from the car before he thinks of too many Star Wars references germane to being cold or being stuck somewhere. Bye Frenchy."

Kathleen gave the young man a playful wave and a smile. 

"Mrs. Leary, I don't know if you hear this enough but I don't think hearing it too much is possible; But you are just breathtakingly, achingly beautiful."

Kathleen gave a little giggle and could actually feel herself blush a little.

"God, " She said teasingly at her flatterer "Can I take you home and leave Vanessa here?"

Vanessa was now at the door, waiting on her Mother impatiently.

"I wonder what life is like for the people with normal parents?" She asked to nobody in particular

2.

"Took you two long enough. I feel like I'm frozen in Carbonite for the journey home." Roy muttered when Vanessa and Kathleen eventually got back to the car. 

"Hi daddy." Vanessa said, climbing into the back seat and leaning forward to give her father a kiss.

"Hi Pumpkin." Roy said with a smile before returning to his blackberry. "All ready to go?"

"I am." Vanessa said, pulling the seatbelt shut around her waist as her mother got back behind the wheel.

"Oh Roy you should have seen it. There was this tremendous stoned boy there. First he thought I was Vanessa's sister, then he called me beautiful. I swear I think he was halfway through making a mix-tape for me." Kathleen teasingly said as the engine roared to life.

"I bet it would have been awful." Roy said, nonplussed about the news and with only a hint of a smile at a shared pride in how beautiful his wife was. "Started it off with something obvious like Mrs. Robinson."

"Oh shush." Kathleen said as she pulled the car out of the lot, navigating through the snow and sleet. "I swear Vanessa, I wish you'd stayed home and gone to the University. We haven't had a bit of snow this year."

"And majored in football studies?" Vanessa joked "Burling's got the best music department for miles."

"It better for what it costs." Roy chimed in

"I could have gotten you the faculty discount, we could eat lunch together and you could even audit one or two my classes when you were bored." Kathleen continued, ignoring the two of them.

"And how is Cheerleader's Intro to Women's Studies this semester" Vanessa asked mockingly

" After a few tries they worked out that if you give them a G, O, T, E, A and M, it spells Go Team!" Roy added

"I knew I should have hit you more when you were younger." Kathleen exhaled before adding the kicker "You too Vanessa."

"I do admit, Pumpkin. It would be nicer to see you a little more." Roy said, squinting at the snow covered road in front of them "And a 3 hour drive back on Christmas Eve is not exactly fun."

"Well, it ain't my fault my last exam was on the 23rd." Vanessa shrugged before brightening her voice considerably "Besides, if a certain couple of parents would think about maybe, possibly purchasing their bright, talented, 4.0 GPA keeping daughter a car then...."

"Know any one with a daughter like that honey?" Kathleen turned to her husband

"Then they wouldn't have to drive me anywhere on Christmas Eve. I could drive myself."

"Tell you what, sweetie" Roy turned back to his Daughter with a cheery grin "You drop out of school and we can blow the 6 figures I'm going to be spending on your tuition on one hell of a car. Heck, a couple. We could even race 'em, whattya think?"

"I think I'm going to be investing in a bus pass next semester." Vanessa sighed as she slumped back in her seat, settling in for a long ride home.

3. 

The SUV pulled onto familiar Cherry Rd. in Vanessa's hometown at around 8:30. The family had stopped to eat at a favourite restaurant of theirs and were now on the last leg of what had been a very long drive home. Roy was asleep in the backseat now, Vanessa and Kathleen upfront.

"Any boys we should know about?" Kathleen asked, mining the bottom of the barrel for subjects she knew her daughter would be willing to discuss.

"Um, yeah, no." Vanessa shook her head to cut off the discussion, as opposed to answering.

"You should date that French boy. He was great."

"He's a sweetheart but, I mean, ewww. Why don't I just date Dad?" Vanessa laughed at the thought of dating someone that much like her father.

"Girls then? College can be an experimental time and you know I would have no objections if you started dating a...."

"Oh sweet lord, Mom, I'm now openly praying for you to swerve into oncoming traffic."

"Right, right. Your love life is not a topic of discussion. I forgot. Just saying you could talk about it if you wanted and we'd approve of whatever" 

Kathleen shook her head as she pulled into the short driveway in front of their quiet, college town 3 bedroom colonial. Roy was roused from his sleep and the family all made their way inside. Vanessa immediately felt good to be home. Away from her cramped little dorm-room and her crazy roommate. Her mom and dad had clearly gone out of their way to decorate. There was already a fully ornamented tree in the living room, next to the fireplace like it always was and there was tinsel and wreaths everywhere. Vanessa knew her parents were neither religious nor particularly crazy about the holidays but Vanessa was. She loved all of it and always had. All of the little traditions, all of the little rituals. It was even singing Christmas Carols that had made her discover her love of music and the talent of her voice. She loved the specials on TV and the giving presents and egg nog and, well, she loved the season. Loved the day. And being home brought that all back.

"God honey, I am just wiped out." Kathleen yawned as the family removed their heavy winter clothing in the foyer.

"Me too." Roy nodded at his wife before turning to his daughter "You ok to get yourself to bed, gorgeous?"

"Yup."

"I baked some absolutely phenomenal shortbread today, babe. They will change your perspective on the human experience." Her father continued. "They're in the jar in the kitchen if you want."

"I think I know my way around the place." Vanessa nodded with a smile as her parents smiled and kissed her and made their way up the stairs to their bed room. Vanessa bolted up to her room, eager to start on some of her own little Christmas rituals. She needed to watch The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, It's a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 42nd Street and various others. She went into the kitchen to grab a handful of the cookies and a glass of milk to make it complete. She knew it was silly, insisting on having the same Christmas over and over that she had when she was 7 but, well, Vanessa didn't care. Continuity, tradition, those things mattered to her.

When she returned to her room, Vanessa quickly discarded her heavy clothes, she peeled the tight knit sweater from her large, heavy breasts and removed her bra as well, finally getting to exhale after keeping her heavy boobs tightly confined for the day. A ratty old tank top was quickly pulled over them while her jeans were kicked to the corner of her room as well. Black boishort panties were on underneath and would remain in place. 

It was in bed, her movies playing on her TV, that Vanessa finally acknowledged something that had been driving her batty for months. She was eager. Horny. Climbing the walls with sexual frustration. However you wanted to describe it, Vanessa had it. School had been so overwhelming that she hadn't even thought about boys(or girls, although it was nice to know that was an acceptable option in her mother's eyes) and while ordinarily that would just mean she'd have broken out a vibrator she had a roommate. Vanessa would never in a million years have done it in front of the girl and found that when she was alone, her thought process kept being derailed by the thought of her roommate returning while she was in the midst of it. It killed the mood and her buzz. The showers were semi-private as well, making that just as mortifying for her. It had been months since she'd even given herself a good time. 

And so it was such that she felt her hands roaming down her chest, letting one of her breasts fill her hand and giving a gentle squeeze before travelling further downwards, over her smooth, flat stomach, into the waistband of her panties and....

"ROY! Do you want anything from the kitchen?" Her mother's voice boomed through the house, breaking Vanessa's thoughts of anything even vaguely sexual. Her father answered in the negative and her mother returned to their room. Vanessa exhaled loudly. Any thoughts of doing anything to herself would have to wait. The problem was now that Vanessa felt her frustration keeping her from sleep. Even after all of the movies ended, and usually she didn't make it past one, she found herself tossing and turning in her bed. The clock on her nightstand telling her it was near 2 in the morning was her sign to get up and try another approach. Some more cookies maybe. Warm milk.

And so it was that Vanessa got out of her bed, tied a little pink robe she'd had for years around her relative state of undress, and crept from her bedroom.

As soon as she got down the stairs, Vanessa heard something from the living room and,wrapping her robe tightly around her chest, took a few steps to investigate. It was a man, in a red wool suit with white trim, taking gifts from a heavy bag and putting them under the tree in the corner of the room. At first Vanessa was shocked but,only seeing the man from behind, she quickly assumed she'd simply stumbled onto some weird gag.

"Jeez Dad, I'm 19. Dressing up as Santa is a bit much, don't you think" She exclaimed with a bit of exasperation in her voice. Still, Vanessa couldn't help but smile a little. It was a nice gesture even if it was a age-inappropriate one. Not to mention that as much as they indulged her love of Christmas, her parents had never gone to these lengths.

"Good heavens!" Exclaimed the man who Vanessa instantly realized wasn't her father as he reacted to her voice. He was near a foot taller than Roy, barrel chested and heavy and with red cheeks and piercing blue eyes. To complete the image he did indeed have the thick white beard and the bi-focals. Vanessa shrieked and grabbed the nearest thing that could be used as a weapon, a nearby fireplace poker.

"Who the fuck are you!" Vanessa shouted, terrified at the thought of some lunatic in her house.

The man looked puzzled before bursting out with laughter

"Ho, ho, ho!" His laughter was loud and joyful "Why I'm Santa Claus of course!"

Vanessa looked at him skeptically. She knew it was crazy but there was something about him that had her doubting her doubt. His movements, despite his massive size were light and nimble and there was something about the way he looked, she couldn't define it, it was something magical. Like he looked brighter than someone ordinarily did. Still, she held onto her healthy skepticism outwardly

"Bullshit you are"

"Vanessa, look at you, all grown up" He straightened his glasses as he looked over her before returning to his present-leaving "But such language you're using."

"How do you know my name?" Vanessa inquired as she took a few more steps towards the man. She couldn't help but smiling. Ever since she'd walked into the room, Vanessa had felt....warmer? Happier? She didn't know how to explain it but it was wonderful. 

"How do I know your name? You used to write me every year!" He chuckled again before giving her a look that expressed some sorrow "I'm sorry about not getting you that pony by the way"


Tis the Season



"That's not fair au..er, Karen, I was supposed to give you the present!" I panted.

"You still can!" she winked as she lay back on the bed. I took my place between her legs, and emulated all that she had done to me. As usual, she had taught me things I hadn't known before, and I had her writhing in no time.

"You learn quickly!" she moaned, as she came over and over. We laid there, and made love for hours. We finally got up, and wandered out to the kitchen and I stayed for dinner.

"You know your welcome to come over anytime." she said as I gathered my things to leave.

"And you know I will, now!" I beamed as I reached the front door.

"Merry Christmas Jenny!"

"Merry Christmas...aunt Karen!" I laughed as I ran out the door. I headed home to rest and regroup.

As I lay soaking in the bubble bath, I picked up my list and crossed off the people I took care of today.

"Not bad." I said to myself, "looks like I'm about halfway done already." Checking out the rest of the list, I still had Professor Thomas from the college, Father O'reilly from church, a few of the guys on the football team, and my older brother, Mark.

    ...To be continued...maybe. 



Tis the Season



Jem put another pill in his mouth and swallowed it back with neat Scotch. He hated the drink but it had been Andy's favourite and somehow that seemed appropriate. It was not as though he was meant to enjoy this. A shaky hand picked up their wedding photograph. It showed a lithe blond, almost glowing with joy, smiling incandescently at the camera and at his side a taller brunette with a goatee wearing a similar smile. 

"We only had six months married, Angel," he slurred. "It should have been the happiest time of our lives next to the wedding. Livvy's baby will never know her uncle Andy. Or her uncle Jem," he added, popping another pill and taking another bitter mouthful. He stared tearfully at the ancient Angel that adorned the Christmas tree whose lights were as dull as Jem's eyes. She was part of his past. He could not remember a time when she did not take pride of place on the tree both as a child and as an adult. Although they had talked about needing to get her cleaned and tidied, somehow they never got round to it. Her face was as faded as her less-than-white dress and wings. "I was angry he went, Angel. We parted with harsh words. I hope he knew how much I loved him, really loved him. I hope he forgives me too, Angel, but I know I don't want to go on without him. He was the other half of my soul and I can't face life without him." 

Both bottles were now empty: sleeping pills and Scotch. Jem picked up the wedding picture. He would not leave a note. Andy's sister Livvy and her husband were their only living relatives and she would understand that Jem had chosen to join his husband rather than live without him. He gazed with blurred vision at the room. They had decorated it together, excited at the prospect of their first Christmas as a married couple and at the impending birth of Andy's first nephew or niece. The mantle was clothed in greenery and dotted around the house were bunches of holly and mistletoe. The tree had pride of place in the living room, to the side of the fireplace. All the gifts had been placed around it. They had intended to sit under it and open the presents sipping eggnog. Each and every dream had been shattered in the motorcycle crash that had claimed Andy's life on the evening of Christmas Eve. Although it had only been a day, Jem felt empty, bereft. He had lost his reason for living. 

He staggered slowly to the bedroom. Tears fell silently. Had it really been just over a day since he and Andy had made love in this room? He caught a glimpse of himself in the dresser mirror. He bore no resemblance to the blond in the picture he carried. His hair was unkempt and he had almost two day's stubble on his cheeks and chin. His eyes were bloodshot and shadowed. He looked every bit as bad as he felt. He rummaged in a drawer and found Andy's favourite sweatshirt and dropped onto the bed. He curled around the picture and shirt, glad he could still smell his lover's distinctive scent. He had no reason to resist the insidious pull of sleep. The faster he gave in, the faster this would all be over.

****

An insistent knocking had a bleary-eyed Jem awakening. He blinked, but the sound continued, seemingly echoing throughout the house. In a daze he staggered down the stairs and to the front door. Opening it, he stepped back with a gasp.

Andy stood there, his face showing a mixture of concern and confusion.

"Hey, babe," came the familiar greeting. "I must've forgot my keys, but I can't think what I was outside for. You look way tired. Were you asleep? Sorry I disturbed you. Man I feel like I could sleep for a week."

"Andy," Jem husked. He enveloped the bigger man in a tight embrace. He realised it must be a dream; a final fantasy by his dying brain, but he did not care. He pulled his husband up to their bedroom and together they stripped.

"What's with the photo and shirt, babe?" Andy asked as they got into bed.

"Doesn't matter, lover," Jem said, snuggling in the other man's embrace. "Hold me, Andy, don't let me go."

"I won't, babe. Man I am so tired. Sorry but I gotta sleep."

Jem did not care in the least. Believing himself in a dream, burrowed against the man he loved, Jem let the darkness claim him once more.

****

Jem groaned softly as he woke. His mouth tasted sour and for a moment he was disorientated. Then reality set in. He was awake. He was alive. But before he could think anything else, a bigger body was covering his and he was being soundly kissed.

"Morning, babe," Andy grinned at him.

"Andy?" Jem whispered.

"What's the matter, babe? You look like you've seen a ghost," Andy laughed.

Jem shook his head. What could he say? He *was* looking at a ghost ... wasn't he? He reached to touch Andy's beloved face. The other man felt warm and alive.

"You were in a crash," Jem husked. "You died. On Christmas Eve. I couldn't live without you. I took ... I took pills ..."

"Hey, hey, hey," Andy said, hugging his sobbing husband. "It was a dream, love. A really, really bad dream, but I'm here and alive."

"But it was so real," Jem croaked.

Andy waited until his lover was more composed and turned the tear-streaked face to his and kissed Jem tenderly, lovingly.

"I'm alive, babe. It's Christmas Eve today and we're going to have our first married Christmas. Let's get up and I can prove it was all just a bad dream."

Jem let himself be taken downstairs. He gaped at the living room. The tree with its Angel stood by the fire, lights twinkling merrily. Their wedding photo was still on their coffee table and there were no empty bottles.

"A dream?" he asked dazedly. "But you got a call to say Livvy had given birth to a baby girl. You insisted on going out on the cycle, even though the weather was bad. A driver jumped the lights."

"A nightmare, babe," Andy said, halting Jem. "A pretty realistic one, but a nightmare none-the-less. I'll prove just how alive and kicking I am," he added in the low husky rasp that never failed to have Jem igniting with desire.

Andy's mouth moved over his lover's, nibbling and licking in just the way he knew would drive Jem wild with desire. He manoeuvred their bodies towards the tree. There was a nice soft sheepskin rug with their names on it for just this kind of occasion. Slowly they knelt, still kissing, their hands stroking over slowly heating skin. Andy pressed Jem onto his back and straddled the beautiful blond. For a moment, warm sienna eyes locked with passionate turquoise and then Andy's mouth was on a small, pink nipple. He relished the way the furled flesh hardened, nipping gently to soft sounds of delight and encouragement. He treated its neglected twin to the same level of attention, smiling at his now writhing lover.

Jem watched as Andy laved open-mouthed kisses over his smooth chest, pausing occasionally to lick at his areolae or suck on his nipples. He moaned encouragingly as Andy moved lower, nibbling across his ribs and then lower again to tantalise his navel. Jem's hips had a life of their own, lifting and lowering, causing his arousal to roll back and forth over his toned abdomen. He saw Andy's eyes light up at the sight of the silvery trails just above his modest nest of blond curls. He made soft pleasured sounds as his mate licked away the pre-come and then lower to bathe his aching sac.

Andy purred his pleasure as he took one precious orb into his mouth and rolled it slowly. He did the same with the other before kissing his way up Jem's arousal to lick and suck slowly at the red, glistening head. As his mouth worked his lover's penis, he slid a hand to the lube hidden under the rug and liberally coated a couple of fingers. He was surprised at how dry and tight his lover was. They had made love only the night before and he expected Jem to still be slick. However, the thought quickly evaporated as he became immersed in loving his husband. He sucked eagerly, alternating between laving particular attention on the sensitive vein on the underside, just below the head and deep-throating the hot flesh and humming. He quickly had three fingers plunging in and out of Jem's body, caressing his hidden jewel repeatedly. Both actions got the desired effect .The blond cried out his pleasure over and over as Andy worked him expertly.

Jem teetered on the brink of climax time after time. Andy was enjoying himself immensely. Hands and mouth, fingers and tongue; he kept taking Jem to the edge of the abyss then stopping, just so he could start all over again. By the time he began the fourth round Jem was incoherent and writhing with need; reduced to chanting single syllables, body capable of nothing beyond his helpless responses to Andy's touches. Right where Andy wanted him; where he loved to see him. He licked at Jem's lips, thrust his tongue into his lover's mouth and then began to murmur hotly into his lover's ear while fingering the lightly-furred sac with its rock-hard orbs and the sweat-slick perineum. 

"Love you, babe. Love you so much." Andy moved to pull Jem's legs around his waist and pushed inside his lover, growling with appreciation at the way the silken sheath rippled erotically as it massaged the length of his long, hard shaft. He set up a rhythm of long slow thrusts. He was always enthralled by the way Jem shuddered beneath him, the way his lover's channel encircled his shaft in slick, hot satin; the way Jem's hands felt clutching his ass, fingers almost biting into his skin, especially so this time, as he was welcomed; encouraged, needed, wanted. Loved

"Love you, love you," Jem moaned. He surprised himself he was able to speak, but he needed Andy to know how much he was loved. He would never, ever again take it for granted Andy knew. He would make sure he always told him. 

His prostate was being hammered with each deep thrust of his lover. He clung tightly to Andy, afraid if he let him go he would vanish. Then coherent though vanished. Andy pounded hard and fast, a knowledgeable hand pulling on Jem's swollen flesh until with a simultaneous cry of each other's name, both men came. Jem relished the feel of hot come inside him, the warm wetness seeming to banish the last of the cold dread. Andy was here and alive and anything else was just a very bad dream. He smiled lovingly at the flush-faced brunette grinning smugly above him.

"I love you," Jem said again, his tone serious.

"I love you too, babe. Always." Andy tucked damp, wayward blond hair away from Jem's forehead and bent down to claim another kiss from red and swollen lips. "I love you, too."

****

The rest of the day passed in a flurry of activity. Jem cooked the turkey. Andy prepared vegetables. They laughed and joked, kissed and caressed. Occasionally Jem felt as though something said or done was familiar, but Andy shrugged it off as déjà vu. However, Jem found himself becoming tense as evening came round. He could not explain it, but the cold dread had returned. He just needed the time of the fateful call from his nightmare to pass and he knew he would be fine. The weather had deteriorated badly, just like in his dream. In addition to the snow and ice already on the roads, sleet was falling.

The glass he held in his hand fell from suddenly nerveless fingers to shatter on the kitchen floor as, on the dot of eight fifteen, the telephone rang. He stood staring, shaking, waiting for Andy to come through and insist on going to the hospital. Instead a stunned Andy came through. Jem raced into his husband's shaky embrace.

"When I picked up the phone, David said Livvy had given birth to a baby girl." he whispered. "It was a though I could hear myself having a conversation with David. I was taking no notice of him. He was saying Livvy was tired and that he would come and get us tomorrow. I insisted I could ride the cycle. I was saying the weather wasn't bad." Andy gave a shaky laugh. "Then I remembered your dream and suddenly David was laughing and asking if I was still there. I told him ... I told him ... we'd love for him to pick us up tomorrow. But I know that if it hadn't been for your dream, I would've insisted on going. It's like I've been given a second chance, babe."

"Make love to me," Jem begged huskily. "Right here, right now." 

He tugged Andy, unresistingly, to the tree and the rug beneath it. Slowly, reverently, treating each other as the precious gifts they were, the two men undressed each other. For a moment they stood, drinking in the sight of each other's naked bodies, their hands reached to caress; one carding gently through soft chest fur, the other stroking a smooth hairless torso. Lips followed hands, kisses bestowed lovingly as they slowly sank into the plush of the deep, chocolate brown sheepskin.

They manoeuvred each to take the other's erections into their mouths, neither man hurrying the pace. They licked and sucked, kissed and caressed taking pleasure in bestowing pleasure until they each knew it was time to take the next step. Andy slid a hand to retrieve the lube as his husband continued to lave at his shaft. Each touch of lips and tongue felt like a benediction. He took Jem back into his mouth and reached between the satiny globes to find the tiny entrance he sought. He pressed one finger inside and felt the soft hum of pleasure vibrate around his shaft. Soon he had three buried deep in his husband and Jem had finally had to release his prize.

Andy smiled at the soft whine of distress as the two men had to part, but the way Jem's eyes shone with love made Andy's eyes mist.

"I love you, babe," he whispered, bending to kiss his husband. "I love you so very much."

"Love you, Andy," the blond said, his voice thick with emotion. "Want you in me, please, Andy."

"Shh, it's ok, love," Andy promised. He continued to suck Jem slowly as his fingers delved deep into tight heat. He stroked over Jem's sweet spot to soft cries of delight and pleasure. As soon as he was certain Jem was thoroughly prepared, Andy encouraged his lover to wrap his legs around his waist and lined himself up with the prepared portal.

"Love you, Andy" Jem whispered as his husband pushed inside. He mewled softly as his husband filled his body to love him physically. The bigger man slid inside Jem's welcoming heat in long, smooth, deep strokes. Jem moved in concert with him, hitching his hips to match his lover.

"Love you," the older man groaned. He leant down, kissing and nipping lovingly at Jem's throat and collarbone. Their lips met and Andy's hand burrowed between their bodies to stroke Jem's eager flesh. It was too good to last long. Jem's hands clutched at Andy's back as he moved faster, harder, striking Jem's prostate unerringly to cry after cry of his name.

Both men climaxed simultaneously, Jem pulsing between their sweat-sheened bodies and Andy filling his husband with his seed. For long moments afterwards, they lay beneath the tree, kissing, touching and renewing their promises of love and devotion. Finally they rose and slowly, hand-in-hand, they went upstairs. 

The sounds from the bedroom soon became those of slumber and the house was still and quiet. At that moment, unseen by human eyes, the face of the Christmas Angel took on a beatific smile. A golden glow arose from her to enter the couple's bedroom and envelope the oblivious lovers who lay entwined together. As it did, unheard by mortal ears, was the single chime as from a pure, silver bell. Then light and sound vanished as unnoticed as they had come.

At the top of her tree, the Angel still smiled. Because sometimes, at Christmas, 'tis the season ... for a miracle. 



Tis The Season



During the holidays, Reed, Ace, and I will often frequent each other's families for the bi-annual "eat everything not locked away" celebrations. This past year, Reed's sister Tina hosted and invited us to attend. Tina was about 10 years older than Reed, so she was well settled with kids and quite the sizable home. 

When we arrived there was plenty to eat and even more to drink. Downstairs Tina had set up several activities in her basement. It was now decked out with a pool table, dance floor, and miniature arcade full of throwback classics like Pac-Man and Centipede. Needless to say, everyone quickly found something to occupy themselves, all the while keeping a cup in hand.

As one can imagine, Tina's guests were all of an older range, not leaving much for Reed, Ace, and I to flirt with. Nonetheless, we were having a good time shooting pool, drinking, and cracking jokes so this didn't matter too much. Being rather tall and built on an athletic frame, it takes me a little while to get a good buzz going. So around 10 o'clock I decide to speed up the process a bit. I had a jar of moonshine in my car that I had been dying to break out and now seemed like as good a time as any.

"Reed, these drinks are good and all but they are doing absolutely nothing for my state of mind right now. And per usual, I'm looking to make a bad decision or two."

Reed, ever enthusiastic and always on board reliably responds, "Man, who are you telling? What did you have in mind?"

"Well I have a jar of shine in my car if you all are trying to take that journey this evening."

Ace, a little more cautious than Reed finally speaks up, "Damn, moonshine? What are you trying to do? Rob a bank?!"

"Excuse me Ace, your pussy is showing. I'm going to need you to tuck that in and jump on board the party train because quite frankly, 'It's about to GO DOWN!'" I can't even contain my laughter as I give Ace and Reed my best Kevin Hart impersonation.

"You already know I'm game." Reed is still excited at the thought and trying his best to peer pressure Ace into joining the debauchery that is inbound. "Come on man, it's not like you have anything to do tomorrow. It's Friday, what's the worst that can happen? You don't wake up until 4 o'clock tomorrow, grab some Chipotle, then rinse and damn repeat!!"

We all laugh and Ace finally caves in and agrees to join us as we venture into drunkenness. I run out to my car, and yes, I'm actually running because it is freezing outside. I snag the bottle and hustle back to the kitchen where glasses have already been set up. Just as I'm about to begin pouring, in walks Sheila and three of her cousins. Things have quickly taken a turn for the better. If you have read any of my previous stories, you're already familiar with the dynamic between Sheila and I. Even when we both have significant others, there's an underlying sexual tension that always seems to resurface no matter the timing or setting.

Pleasantries and hugs are exchanged between the group already in the kitchen and the incoming party. "Well, you all are right on time. Do you want in on these shots?" I ask, seeing the potential for this evening.

"Oh em geeee. What is that?" Sheila asks with a puzzled look on her face. "Moonshine?! You all are crazy." she says, all the while reaching for the stack of cups.

When everyone is properly imbued with beverage we all raise our cups for a small toast, "To good friends, family, bad decisions, and fun memories." I make sure to give Sheila a slight smirk when I mention bad decisions and fun memories.

The younger crowd makes its way back downstairs as the night progresses. More drinks are shared and Sheila and I exchange the occasional flirtatious glance from time to time. By midnight I'm sufficiently emboldened with rum and too horny to control myself. I pull out my phone and send Sheila a text.

Travis: "Every time I look at you I'm thinking about how good your pussy tastes. Are you going to let me put my tongue in your pussy again tonight?"

I watch as Sheila's phone vibrates. She reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls it out. I see her eyes widen as she reads my abrupt text. But to my disappointment she simply shakes her head with a grin and puts her phone back into her pocket.

The rest of the night is pretty mellow after that and around three o'clock the guys are beginning to pack it in. I say my goodnights and goodbyes and head to my car still feeling a good buzz from drinking all night. I pull out my phone and decide to have another crack at Sheila. 

Travis: "So... no answer??"

Sheila: "You know, that was a really tempting text but you know I'm with Chuck now. We can't keep messing around."

Travis: "I hear you, no worries."

Sheila: "I have your shorts in my car though from the time Shelly and I came over your place after the club that night. Where are you? You can meet me and grab them right quick."

Travis: "Oh okay, I'm right downtown. Meet me at the garage on Trumbull Street."

I'm still holding onto hope that I might be able to pull something off in the garage. We've both been drinking and I know Sheila wants another go around, despite her best efforts to behave herself. I make sure to drive up a few levels to where no other cars are parked and far enough back where I can see another car coming up the ramp. Now, just to wait.

In a few minutes Sheila's BMW turns the corner slowly and cruises up next to mine. Sheila opens the door to hand me my shorts but doesn't get out.

I take the shorts from her with one hand and hold the back of her head with the other as I bend down and lean in for a kiss. Our lips meet and I can sense a little reluctance at first but it is instantaneously followed by relaxed lips that part and invite me in. Our tongues touch and we begin tracing circles around each other. Our lips press deeper together as the kiss intensifies. All of a sudden, Sheila pushes me back, "No Travis! No, I can't. Just go home."

Sheila is still smiling uncontrollably as she attempts to convince me that she is dead serious. I smile and say, "Okay, well if you change your mind, you know where I live. And I would definitely enjoy your company tonight. I don't think you would be sorry if you decided to come by either."

With that, Sheila closes her door, I hop back into my car and follow her down the ramp. We make one turn with the eastbound highway ramp headed to my town and the westbound ramp heading to Sheila's. She takes the westbound ramp...

Feeling defeated I jump on the highway and begin heading home when my phone buzzes. I look at it and to my surprise it's Sheila. I pull over to the shoulder hoping that she's asking me to turn around and meet her back in the garage.

Sheila: "That was nice but I hope you understand."

Travis: "It most certainly was! I wish I could have kissed your other set of lips too. I miss how your pussy tastes and how you feel squeezing my dick when it's buried deep inside of you."

Sheila: "Ugh, you don't even know how badly I want to come by your place right now."

Travis: "I think you should stop thinking about it so much and make it happen."

Sheila: "And I think you should keep driving home. I don't want to beat you there and have to wait outside."

Travis: "Wait... was that you that just passed me??"

I don't even wait for a response as I'm pretty sure I just saw Sheila speed past. I drop my phone and race home making sure to take every shortcut I know of in order to beat her back to my place. I arrive and she's not there yet, "Yes!" I clean up my bed, take a very quick shower, and unlock the front door. Five minutes later I get the text:

Sheila: "I'm outside."

Travis: "The door is open."

I hear footsteps coming upstairs then my bedroom door opens. 

"I don't have a lot of time at all, I was supposed to be home already."

I don't say a word as I pull Sheila in for another kiss. This time my hands are not on the back of her head but on her belt and jeans, unbuckling, unzipping, unsnapping, trying to do everything to get her pants off immediately! As I tug them down, I lay Sheila back onto the bed and remove her shoes quickly and her jeans and panties simultaneously even faster. Sheila leans back and her pussy is presented to me as if on a serving platter for one. Her thighs are soft and smooth to the touch and her neatly trimmed landing strip is directing me to my prize for persistence.

I take my time at first wanting to savor the first moment when my tongue hits the edge of her lips. I give her outer labia a subtle and gentle tap to let her know I'm going to take my time despite her time predicament. I want Sheila to relax, this isn't going to be a rush. I press in and leisurely drag my lips across her inner labia making sure to plant kisses periodically as I go.

With each kiss Sheila responds to my touch, "Oh. Mmm. Ah. Travis, don't tease me! Yes."

I respond muffled, "I'm just getting your warmed up girl."

I split Sheila's labia with my tongue and push my tongue into her. "OH YES! Mmmm!" Her response instantly motivates me and I'm no longer willing to hold back. I wiggle my tongue back and forth and follow it up with long strokes inside of her. Her pussy is delicious and I aim to let her know it. I take hold of her hips and begin to suck passionately on her clit, rolling it with my tongue as she provides me a steady flow of delicious juices mixed with my own saliva. "MMM! That feels amazing! Damn!" 

Unable to contain myself, I pull back and hop to my feet. I yank my pants down paying no attention to the belt that was holding them up. I step out of my jeans and begin to shed my shirt bringing it over my head. As I free myself from my shirt I am taken aback as Sheila's mouth has already made a direct line to my dick. She easily engulfs my still growing dick and hungrily sucks at it dragging her lips over my full length.

"Wow! Damn, you sure know how to get things going quickly don't you girl! Suck that dick. Shit that feels so fucking good." I throw my head back as a feel Sheila's tongue swirling around my cock. 

I can't help but think that this is a lucky moment and I need to preserve it. My desk is in arm's reach and I get hold of my phone. I quickly fumble with the password lock and find my camcorder app. The light must have alerted Sheila to what was going on as her eyes opened slightly. With my dick still in her mouth and she looks up and sees the situation at hand. She raises one hand cupping my balls as she continues massaging my dick with her mouth and uses the other hand in an attempt to block the camera.

"Move that hand girl. Just worry about sucking that dick. That feels so damn good. Just keep sucking my dick girl." Sheila is fixated on the staggering blowjob she is giving me and does as she is told. I don't even think she heard what I said but as I pushed her hand away it immediately found its way to the other side of my balls. Sheila uses both hands to caress my balls and has yet to stop her slow unrelenting assault on my cock which is at full mast now. Sheila is unable to fit my full nine inches into her throat but the four inches that she is taking, she is doing so masterfully!

I can't hold back and I know exactly what I want. I ditch my phone recklessly and declare, "I need that pussy girl. Lay back and open it up for me." Again, Sheila does what she's told as she spreads her legs and stares at my dick. The very thick head of my dick parts her slowly and Sheila lets out a combination of a grunt and moan that drives me wild. I slowly push my thick member deeper into her, every inch provoking groans as Sheila reaches down and frantically begins rubbing her clit. I continue penetrating her until I feel my balls resting on the under side of her ass. I can feel the mix of sweat and fluids squish between us as I press my balls against her butt diving into her cunt as deep as I can.

"Damn, I miss this pussy girl. Why do you make me... wait... so... long... between fucks?" I pause between each word drawing my dick out and sliding it back in. Sheila's mouth is wide open but I'm not expecting an answer. She is pulsing herself wrapped around my dick, that is enough of an answer for me.

I begin to pick up the pace, fucking her harder with each stroke. "Yes Travis! Ooooh, oooo right there!" is all Sheila can manage to communicate. Her moans are music to my ears as I begin to pound her deep.

"Turn over!" is all I say as I withdraw my dick from her and assist in flipping her onto all fours. I place a hand on her back between her shoulders as I push her forward to the bed while using the other hand to hold her ass up pointing at me. Properly situated, I grab hold of my cock and aim for her crack once again. I slide in effortlessly with how wet her pussy is and pick back up at the pace I left off.

"Fuck meee! Yes Travis! Yes! Fuck!" 

"Don't you ever try to keep this fantastic pussy from me girl!" I exclaim as my hand comes crashing down on her ass producing a very loud slap. I firmly grip Sheila's ass after the slap and steer her pussy up and down my cock. "Work that dick girl! Make me cum! Ride that dick and make me cum!"

Sheila has taken over and I am no longer guiding her ass. I look down and watch my cock repeatedly disappear as her butt bounces up and down. The repeated loud smacks when her ass hits my pelvis and my balls slap against her clit are driving me over the edge. "OH SHIT YES!! I'M GONNA CUM!! Where do you want it girl? Where do you want this cum?!"

Sheila screams abruptly, "ON MY ASS! Shoot it on my ass!"

I immediately withdraw my cock and aim it at her ass jacking it furiously. The first spurt trails the length of her back followed by another direct hit that finds her right ass cheek. The last two spurts trail off and hit her thighs. As she lay there bent over in front of me ass coated in my cum, I reach over and smack her on the left butt cheek and say, "Good game."



Tis The Season to Gibbs



Christmas Eve...

Debbie Radcliffe almost dropped the tray of homemade cookies and milk that she held as she stepped into the dimly lit living room. Only the hundreds of tiny multi-colored lights on the Christmas tree and the faint yellow glow from the street lamps filtering through the windows illuminated the sleeping pair, but the sight was enough to cause her heart to jump into her throat. Her nine year old daughter, Kelsey, was curled up on the lap of their new protector, Naval Criminal Investigation Service's Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. 

She fought back tears as she tip-toed into the room. She sat the tray of cookies and milk on the coffee table near the fireplace. She stopped once more to caress the photograph of the happy family that shown back at her from the plain wooden frame. She chuckled softly. Everyone on his team had made certain to tell her the story of Shannon and Kelly over the past three weeks. The man inspired loyalty that much she could give him. She supposed given her dark auburn hair and Kelsey's infectious personality she could understand their need to protect their leader from another heartache. 

Debbie only wished that someone felt that kind of care for her, or even Kelsey. She shook her head, wiped the moisture from the corner of her eyes and reminded herself that feeling sorry for one's self never helped. She had all that really mattered this Christmas, her daughter. And they were safe. For now anyway. Thanks to Special Agent Gibbs and his team.

Turning back towards the sleeping pair, she knelt and picked up the battered book of fairy tales from where it had landed on the floor at his feet. She had just closed it softly when she felt his eyes on her. Debbie frowned as she looked up into those blue-grey eyes that gazed intently at her. "I'll take her. Put her to bed," she whispered.

He shook his head, "No, ma'am. It'll be easier if I do."

Self-reliance had become so natural over the past six years since Kelsey's condition began to manifest itself that she was tempted to argue. Demand that he hand over her daughter. But Debbie did not want to disturb the little girl, not on this night especially. So she simply nodded and followed him down the hallway to the bedroom decorated in pink. She paused in the doorway as he carried her sleeping daughter to the single bed. The girl's presence seemed to linger in every doll and toy. And given her own situation, it was a painful reminder of how short life could be. 

She watched as the man bent and pulled back the covers, laying Kelsey in the bed just as he must have once done with his own daughter, Kelly. She saw him hesitate and wondered if perhaps he was caught in some time warp, if perhaps for a single moment he had forgotten that the child was not his dead Kelly. Debbie felt her lungs burn as she forgot for an instant to breath. She fought back the moisture that blurred her visions, making the whole scene take on some surreal quality. For a split second she could almost forget what brought them to this man's charge. The danger that dogged their every move. But only for a split second as the glint of gun metal shown from the holster at his back. 

Jason was dead. Their marriage had long since been over in any meaningful way, all that remained was an arrangement for the sake of his Naval career and her daughter's health. His usual long absences as leader of a SEAL team were no longer punctuated with happy reunions. When he was home, Jason was emotionally absent from her and their only child. 

Debbie brought her hands to her heart as she watched Agent Gibbs tuck the blanket tight about Kelsey. Why couldn't Jason have seen past the diagnosis to the loving and bright little girl that they had been blessed with? Why did that word...Asperger's...alienate the man that she thought she had loved from his own flesh and blood? And why the hell was she being tormented with the should-have-beens now? With this virtual stranger that saw her little girl not as damaged merchandise but as the gift she truly was? 

She was so lost in the her painful thoughts that she did not even notice him until he was right beside her. She jumped a bit at the closeness. Six years was a long time without the comforting touch of a man. Six years without passion. She smiled as she looked over at her sleeping child, but she would do it all again. A thousand times over. 

"You should get some sleep," he whispered so close that she could feel the heat of his breath on her cheek, could smell the coffee and the man.

She shook her head, "No, I need to," the list seemed endless, but she could not think of a single thing as she stared into his eyes, the soft map of lines at their corners only enhancing his handsome features. 'Fuck, why did the man have to look better than chocolate in your stocking on Christmas morning?' she thought. Grabbing onto the idea, she muttered, "I have to stuff Kelsey's stocking and..."

His calloused finger pressed against her lips to still her words. Debbie swallowed hard to keep from parting her lips and drawing that finger deep into her mouth, sucking softly on it. She felt the zing of the casual touch in the pit of her stomach...and lower. 

"I'll put her bicycle and that damned Barbie Dream House together. You stuff the stocking and dress the dolls," he gave that half smile that never seemed to reach his eyes as he pushed past her. 

His arm brushed against her breast in the tight confines of the doorway. Debbie held her breath and stared at the wood floor as she forced herself to ignore the lightening strikes of desire that coursed from her hard nipple to her addled brain. But she managed a weak smile, a nod and a mumbled, "Thank you."

***

Three weeks earlier...

"Leon, really, we'll be fine. I'm sure that the Homeland Security team are right, with Jason," Debbie stumbled over the word 'dead.' It still did not feel real. After almost twenty year and many more deployments than that, her husband was dead. Not on a battlefield or even in some training accident, but a fucking drive-by shooting in their upscale Ocean City subdivision where violence of any kind was unheard of. 

The Director of Naval Criminal Investigation Service frowned at her. She had known him and his wife Jackie for over a decade since Jason had transferred to Virginia from San Diego. When she became pregnant a few months later, their friendship had burgeoned under the shared bond of motherhood. And despite the different paths that their lives had taken over the past few years, Jackie Vance remained on of the few people that she counted as a friend. 

He shook his head, "No, Debbie, until we discover the Intel leak that caused this, I'm not trusting your lives to the Federal Marshalls. If Jason's security was compromised, if terrorists somehow learned of his role as leader of the team, then we can't be sure that you and Kelsey were not also targets."

She shook her head, "She's just a little girl. Who would want to harm a child?"

"It doesn't work that way to some people, Debbie. One of the reasons why Operational Security is always so high around the SEAL teams is that not only are the members in danger if their identities become known, but their whole families. I have already dispatched a team to the Radcliffe's," his smile bent up at the end, "But I doubt Michael Radcliffe will want or need our assistance. The man has a security team that is larger than the armies of some Third World countries."

Debbie laughed nervously at the mention of her famouss. If the relationship between her and her husband had become strained these past few years since their daughter was diagnosed with Asperger's, the relationship with her in-laws had broken down completely. It had in some ways been the most painful part of this arrangement for the woman that had grown up in a series of foster homes and orphanages. 

She had never been that close with her father, but then again not even his only son was. Though a bit stiff and formal, her mother-in-law had been the mother that she had dreamt of as a little girl. Clarisse Radcliffe though had neither the courage or the will to go against her husband and son, so both Debbie and Kelsey had been shuffled to the sidelines of their lives. A legal convenience, whose silence was bought and paid for. 

Debbie looked over her shoulder to where her nine year old daughter was sleeping in the back seat of their friend's car. Everything would be fine, she assured herself, just as she had so many times over the past few years since Kelsey's development began to take a different path than other children her age. One thing that made it harder was that like most children with high functioning Autism no one would guess at first glance that her daughter had the condition. 

In fact, Kelsey's was atypical in some ways. Rather than shun human contact as some children with the condition, she sought it out. Often inappropriately. How many times had Jason called her to get the child off of him? How did you explain to your special needs child that the affection she saw between her friends and their fathers was not appropriate with her own? 

But in this instance, that was probably a good thing. Debbie had just grabbed Kelsey from her father's lap once more when the hail fire of bullets began to shatter the glass windows of his den. She had pushed her daughter into the hallway and covered her body with her own. She had more than a few scratches and the paramedics had picked several larger pieces of glass from her back. 

As the car came to a stop, Debbie frowned. The quiet, middle-class residential neighborhood was not the seedy hotel that she had expected when the Director insisted upon placing them in protective custody. "Where are you taking us, Leon?" she asked.

The man turned in the seat next to her, his expression solemn. "Until this investigation is over, I'm placing you both in the care of my top man. His team will work with Homeland Security on the investigation, but Jethro will be tasked with personally protecting the two of you."

"Fine, but why here? This doesn't look like the most secure of locations. Hell, it isn't even gated the way our subdivision was."

He nodded, "I realize that but Jethro has protected more than one witness in his home. And I have no doubt that he will with the two of you. Besides my other concern is for Kelsey. She has been through enough. The more home like the safe house the better it will be on your daughter."

Debbie sighed. She could not argue with his logic on that. Routine was paramount in preventing any major outbursts with her sometimes volatile child. "What about her school, Leon?"

Her friend shook his head, "I'm afraid that is out of the question for the time being. I hope you understand? Our only priority is keeping the two of you safe while we close this security breech."

"But how do you even know there is one, Leon? Perhaps the shooting is unrelated to Jason's job? I don't know one of those random drive-bys or even a case of mistaken identity, maybe one of the neighbors is dealing drugs or something?" she tried to plead.

The Director gripped the steering wheel tightly. Silence hung like a stale odor in the car. "There was a phone call to the local media a few minutes after the shooting, Debra. The caller claimed responsibility, said that the infidels must leave their Holy Land or more of our warriors and their families would die."

She folded her hands on her lap, trying to stop them from trembling. She had spent half of her life as a good Navy wife. This was the eventuality that all SEAL wives were told about, but the one that none had faced. Until now. Until her and Kelsey. 

"Do you think they know?" she whispered. 

"I don't know. It's possible I suppose. That operation was more public than anything that we have ever done before. I was against going public for just this reason, but I was out voted."

Debbie nodded as these new facts about her husband's death filtered into her shattered mind. None of it seemed real. Jason was gone. She supposed he had been for some time, but his death was so much more final than the civil divorce that they had discussed and planned for. Another couple of years until he could have retired, until they could have put an end to the lie that had become their once loving marriage. She supposed she ought to feel something more than quiet sadness for the loss of another of this country's heroes, but she had long ago mourned the passing of the only man she had ever loved. This latest was just another acting job, pretending to be the grieving widow. 

"So how long, Leon? We can't stay here forever. Kelsey and I have lives to get on with. You know how much any disturbance of her routine upsets her." She shook her head, "Perhaps the guy from Homeland Security was right. Maybe it would be better if we started over fresh, if they gave us new identities."

His shoulders slumped as he stared at his hands. His voice was barely above a whisper, "I would agree, Debbie, if I thought that were possible. But we've known Kelsey since she was baby, we've seen how her condition effects her. Do you really think that your daughter could keep a secret like that? Hell, Deb, last Christmas she told us everything that you had brought for the kids. Before you had even gotten your coats off. Lying or even softening the truth doesn't come natural to her. We can't trust your lives on her learning now."

Debbie swallowed back the bile at his frank words, but she could not argue with his assessment of the situation, especially not when Kelsey's life was in danger. "All right, Leon. You win."

He shook his head, "No, Deb, no one wins in this situation." He got out of the car and went around to open her door. She bent to open the back door, but he waved her off and picked up the sleeping Kelsey. She whispered and rubbed her daughter's back until she settled back down. As they made their way to the door, she noticed that the house was well maintained. 

Leon knocked and Kelsey looked up once more. Debbie bit her lower lip and murmured quietly, hoping her daughter would drift back to sleep. She had been through so much today. The door opened and a distinguished man with greying hair and intense blue eyes stood holding a glass of amber liquid. Debbie hoped it was liquor and that he was a cordial enough host to offer her some. He studied them, his eyes lingering over her daughter with a frown. Great, their protector did not like children. 

"What can I do for you, Leon?" he asked as he stepped aside to allow them to enter. 

Leon nodded his head towards his sleeping package. "Where can I put her?"

"Down the hall, second door on the right," Leon frowned then turned to her. "It might be best if you put her down. In case she wakes up," he explained. Debbie nodded, thankful for a couple of moments alone with her daughter to process all that had happened.

Leon waited while Jethro led them down the hall, opening the door and letting the woman pass. He flipped the light switch on the wall and spoke something in a low voice. Then he closed the door and joined him in the living room.

"Why that room?" Leon pinned him with a stare. 

"Why my house, Leon?" he said crossing to the table and pouring more liquor into his glass. 

Leon rubbed his hand across his face. "Have you watched the eleven o'clock news?"

Jethro shook his head, "No, why?"

"There was a drive-by shooting tonight. A Naval Commander was killed in his home."

"And you want my team to investigate? But what does that have to do with the woman and child?"

"Debbie is his widow. She and Kelsey could have been killed as well. Should have been. Or that's what the caller to the television station said. You see Commander Jason Radcliffe was not just any Naval officer. He was Naval Special Warfare Command. Team Six."

Jethro nodded, "And the call? What else did the caller say?"

"Normal fanatical ramblings. Claiming the will of Allah had been done. That the infidel and his family got what the deserved."

"So they think that the woman and child were killed as well?"

Leon shook his head, "Not any more. Pictures of them in the back of the ambulance appeared on the same news program. So you see why I need your help?"

He nodded, "Do you have any idea how the Commander's identity was compromised?"

Leon shook his head, "No, but things have become hot since...well, since suddenly National Security took backseat to political expedience." He paced the room, "I tried to warn them about this, but no one listened. Now a SEAL Commander is dead. His family in danger. And god only knows how many others on his team are at risk."

"I take it they have all been notified."

"Of course. Too late for Jason and his family though." He turned and pinned Jethro with his gaze, "I answered your question. Now your turn. Why did you put Kelsey in Kelly's old room?"

Jethro raised his glass to his lips and drained half of it before answering. "Forgive me for trying to make things as easy as possible on the kid. I figured from the look in the woman's eyes and the fact that you were knocking on my door after midnight that something was up. I don't like it when kids get caught up in what we do. I never have. I figured waking up in a pink room, surrounded by dolls, might be as close to normal as the poor girl was going to get for a while."

Leon nodded, "All right. I appreciate that, but I want to warn you now Debbie has been Jackie's friend for almost a decade. So put your little thing for hot red heads aside, Jethro. That woman has been through hell and not just tonight." He stared down the hall before speaking again, "People don't notice it right off. It takes a while to get to know her before you realize that Kelsey is special. They call it Asperger's Syndrome, high functioning form of autism. Jackie was the first to notice. Helped Debbie find the right doctors, therapists and schools. But it has not been easy for her."

He sighed, "I don't have to tell you how hard it can be, choosing between family and country. Hell, we've both had our failings on that one. But we gave it our best shot." He shook his head, "Let's just say Jason didn't always."

"Is it something that might be relevant to our investigation?"

"If it weren't for the damned note, yeah, I'd be more than a bit interested in the convoluted family history of Commander Jason Radcliffe."

"Radcliffe?" Gibbs furrowed his brow, "Why is that name so familiar?"

"Senator Steven Radcliffe. Navy Pilot, shot down over Vietnam. One of the last prisoners of war released. Motivational speaker. United States Senator for the commonwealth of Virginia. And Jason's father."

He nodded his head, "Dealing with the big guns in more ways than one."

"Yeah, which is why I need my best man on this one. But I need you thinking straight, Jethro. I want your word now, hands off Debbie. Do you understand me?"

Jethro nodded and lifted his glass, "Perfectly clear, Director." 

The men grew silent as the door opened. The beautiful red head joined them in the living room. "She's down for now." Turning towards the man, she asked, "Do you mind telling me where I'll be staying? I'm rather tired."

"No problem. Room right across the hall will be fine, ma'am," he replied. 

She turned with a weak smile to her old friend, "Leon, thank you for everything."

The Director stepped forward and wrapped her in an embrace, "I'm so sorry, Debbie." He drew back and looked her in the eyes, "We might not always see eye to eye, but I trust Jethro with my life, with my family's lives. And now with yours and Kelsey's. He's a good man. The best for this job. So listen to what he says, understood?"

She nodded slowly then turn to him with another of those weak smiles, "If you will both excuse me." She retreated to the bedroom but tears were slow to come and sleep slower still. 




Tis The Season to Gibbs



***

She frowned at the pink stocking stuffed full of toys, fruit and chocolate. He cursed under his breath, "You know there are instructions," she chuckled.

He looked up from the pile of pink plastic that surrounded him on the floor. "Those might work well for bikes, but not for this," he said holding up two delicate looking pieces of the puzzle. "Damn thing is too fiddly."

"Want my help?" she smiled.

"Can't hurt," he shrugged. 

She shook her head as she took a seat on the floor next to him, picking up the instruction and reading them. 

"Suppose this isn't the way you planned to spend Christmas," he said as he pinched the end of his finger while trying to snap the pieces together. "Damn," he cursed again.

"Let me see," Debbie said putting the instructions aside. 

"It's nothing," he said as he picked up two similar pieces and repeated the action, careful this time to avoid the same mistake. "So think this will make up for her not getting what she really wanted for Christmas?"

Debbie blushed at the reminder of their disastrous visit to Santa Claus at the mall. 

***

"Gibbs, I need to talk to you about something," Debbie looked up at Abby as her daughter threw herself in her arms. 

"Mommy, Mommy, Abby said we can," chimed Kelsey.

"Can what?" she asked as she saw the young woman talking in whispers with her boss. 

The NCIS offices had become their other home over the past two and half weeks. Debbie had taken to writing at her laptop on a free desk, while Kelsey pestered Abby in her lab. Even with her knowledge of the Autistic Spectrum, Debbie had been surprised at how fixated the child had become on forensic procedures and how much she actually understood of them. But then again her daughter often related better to the adults in her life than to other children.

"DiNozzo, Ziva, McGee," he called out to his team as he stood up and took his gun out of his desk drawer. "Be ready in five minutes."

"Ready for what?" asked Tony.

His eyes speared her with a stare, "We're visiting Santa."

Debbie frowned down at her daughter. "Kelsey, we talked about this. We emailed your wish list to him at the North Pole already. We even gave him Agent Gibbs' address so he did not get confused and take your present to our old house. I told you we just can't go visit him this year. Not with Ultron out to get us."

The fictional villain had become the scape goat for the murder of her father. It had been a likely extension of the cover story that she and Jason had concocted long ago to explain his job and long absences. From the moment that Kelsey first saw an Avengers episode on television, the five year old had been fixated upon them. Her fixation was just another symptom of her condition, but this time it provided them with a convenient out for her father's career. Jason had become the fictional Bucky, Captain America's sidekick, ridding the world of evil. 

Her daughter looked up at her with those wide green eyes that reminded her so much of the Jason that she had fallen in love with so long ago. "But Abby says that Iron Man, the Black Widow, Ant Man and Captain America will go with us to keep us safe, Mommy."

She frowned at Abby, who had suddenly decided that her new boots were more interesting than the organized chaos that was happening all around her. Debbie was about question the young woman when she felt his hand on her elbow. She knew it was his hand, or her body did. Needs that she had thought she had buried long ago instantly sparked to life at the casual contact. 

She jumped as he leaned in and whispered, "The girl is right. It wouldn't be Christmas without sitting on Santa's lap."

Why did her mind have to betray her? Instantly filling with visions of her sitting upon his knee, or better yet bent over it. After all, she had been a very naughty girl lately. At least in her dreams. 

Debbie could not speak as she felt her nipples pucker into diamond points within the confines of her lacy bra. In the end, she just nodded mutely and reached for her coat on the back of the chair. She asked herself for the hundredth time in the past two weeks 'what was it about this man?' But that answer was simple, in addition to the honor, courage and intelligence that had always attracted her to Jason, this man had the one thing that had been her husband's Achilles' heel, he was amazing with her child.  

Half an hour later they had found themselves transported to a winter wonderland, complete with Santa's Grotto, giant Candy Canes and layers upon layers of white cotton masquerading as snow. For all the world, the three of them must have looked to everyone like the all-American family. Kelsey tugged at Gibbs' hand, chatting incessantly about fingerprint analysis and DNA testing while they waited their turn to speak with the new Santa that had just relieved the regular one. 

Beneath the layers of padding, wigs and fake beard, Debbie smiled as she recognized Special Agent DiNozzo. Tony must love having dozens of snot-nosed children plying him with their long wish lists, pulling at his beard and demanding a different color present from his goody bag.

On the balcony above she noticed that Special Agent McGee was looking up from the e-reader he held. He frowned as he said something into the ear piece that looked like any other blue-tooth technology, but that she knew was networked to the other team members. 

But by far the most interesting was Ziva, who was perusing the selection of nighties and underwear at the lingerie shop just in front of them. She held up a particularly stunning looking black leather corset and Debbie made a note to add one in the woman's size to her growing list of online shopping. 

Over the past couple of days, Debbie had spent a great deal of time shopping online for presents for the people that had become friends as well as protectors for her and her daughter. So far, she had bought Abby a stunning new leather vest studded with metal spikes in the form of a DNA helix. For Doctor Mallard, she had found an autographed first edition copy of his favorite Hercule Poirot novel. She had contacted an old college friend, who now designed video games and acquired a prototype of his upcoming release of Timothy's favorite game. 

Tony and Ziva had been more challenging. But looking at the way the beauty snuck side-ways glances at Santa, Debbie thought that perhaps the little leather number might kill two birds with one stone as the saying goes. She frowned, wondering if she wore her feelings for him on her face as much as the other woman's pining for her colleague. She certainly hoped not. What would be the point? Unlike Tony, who obviously returned Ziva's interest, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs did not know she existed, except as another duty to be fulfilled for his country. 

Of course, what to get him had presented the biggest challenge. The one thing that the man wanted was not in her power to give. Shannon and Kelly was all he had ever needed, but the one thing he would never have again. Debbie turned away from them for a moment, pretending to look at something in one of the shop windows as she rubbed her coat sleeve across her face, drying the moisture that always clouded her vision when she thought about that perfect family in the small wooden frame that sat hidden among the books on a shelf. She smiled that was it. The perfect present, she thought as they reached the front of the line. 

Kelsey skipped up the steps to Santa DiNozzo's throne. Debbie held her breath wondering if her brutally honest child would comment on his resemblance to their new friend, but Kelsey did not seem to notice, so enthralled as she was with her long list of Christmas wishes, the new Barbie and Ken, the pink princess bike and a half dozen lesser items. Santa had just reached for his bag of treats when the tug came once more on his beard. Debbie joined Tony in a conspiratorial wince as rubber cement warred with skin. 

"There's one more thing, Santa. This is the big one."

Tony furrowed his brow, giving his most serious look as her daughter barreled into the final item. "Well, my daddy was Bucky and he helped Captain America and all the other Avengers to battle Ultron and the other super villains. But Ultron shot my daddy and he died. So I need a new one now. I'd really like one that likes me this time please. Actually, the angel in my dreams says that Captain America wants to be my new daddy. So that's what I really want for Christmas, Captain America to be my new daddy."

Tony's eyes flew up and sought out hers. She stepped forward and held out her hand as Tony took a pink wrapped package from his bag of treats. Debbie plastered that indulgent smile that she had perfected on her face.

"Kelsey, Santa doesn't really handle those kind of wishes, sweetie. He brings us toys, not new daddies."

Her heart tightened as she saw the huge tears gathering in her daughter's eyes. For the millionth time since Kelsey began to fall behind developmentally, she wished that she could give her child the one she had never had, a father's love. But this wish hit her harder than anything had, even Jason's death. It reminded her of the dozens of similar wishes that the freckle-faced little girl with the ugly red curls had made to the scruffy Santas that came each year to the annual Christmas party that Social Services hosted for the children in its care. Debbie knew the futility of that kind of wish. She had never gotten her perfect parents and now she was powerless to give her daughter her Captain America daddy. 

***

Debbie stared at the pink plastic she held in her fingers. She choked back the same raw helplessness that she felt in the mall that day. The same raw helplessness she felt the day that she and Jason signed the agreement that would amicably define the perimeters of their fictitious marriage. 

"I'm sorry about that. I know things must seem a little strange to you, Agent Gibbs," she stuttered, trying to find a way to explain without seeming the cold-hearted bitch that the past six years of single parenthood had turned her into. 

He shrugged his shoulders, "I figured if it is relevant to my investigation you'll tell me, ma'am."

Debbie pondered his words. She did not see how their private family soap opera could be relevant to a terrorist investigation, but an explanation might help him to understand why her daughter clung to him like vines about a tree. 

"My marriage was over, Agent Gibbs. Well, in any meaningful way. Jason and I had agreed to wait for his retirement before filling for divorce. The military is still a rather conservative place and to some people it would seem like he was abandoning his family because of our daughter's condition. It would not look good for an officer of his caliber. I hope you understand how delicate this matter could be for his reputation," she pleaded.

"Oh, I understand, ma'am. The man did not want to be seen for the true coward and asshole that he was," he replied stiffly.

Debbie furrowed her brow and pinned him with a stare, "I guess Kelsey isn't the only one that has a problem with saying whatever comes into her mind."

Laughter echoed off the walls, "No, ma'am, she isn't. Why do you think I lov," he paused and stared at the pink base of the Barbie Dream House for a long moment before looking up. "It's a trait that has gotten me into trouble more than once. So, yeah, it is something that I like very much about your little girl."

Debbie nodded and sighed. "Yeah, well, it isn't one that she got from her Mom. I've been living a lie for so long that I don't even remember what the truth is anymore, Agent Gibbs. First, it was the carefully crafted fiction about my background that the Radcliffe's insisted upon when I married their son." 

She stared at the floor through the tears, unseeing anything as the rest poured out, "Truth is that I'm just some nameless orphan that was lucky enough not to get eaten up by the system. I met Jason when he was at the Academy and I was going to the University of Maryland. He and some of his friends came into the restaurant where I was working as a waitress to make ends meet. I fell hard for him. Or who I thought he was. To him, I think I was just another challenge to be conquered. Why wouldn't the poor little orphan throw herself at him like all the other girls did?"

A glass of amber colored liquid was pressed into her trembling fingers out of nowhere. Despite the fire burning in the fireplace less than five feet away or the man sitting so close that they practically touched, the man, whose voice alone was usually sufficient to ignite an unquenchable flame, she shivered as she lifted the glass. The liquid blazed a path down her throat and into the pit of her stomach. Her fingers still trembled as she reached over and sat the glass on the coffee table, but her vision seemed a bit clearer when she began again.

"Don't get me wrong, it wasn't all bad. When Jason made SEAL training and we moved to California, those ten years were great. Jason was gone on training and missions a lot of the time, but I had my painting. And of course, I learned my new role too, the perfect officer's wife. But overall, things weren't bad."

"But then we transferred here and I got pregnant with Kelsey. At first things were great. Jason was so excited about being a dad. If he was a little disappointed that we were having a girl and not the son he wanted that was understandable, but we could always have a boy next time." She looked into those clairvoyant eyes, pleading for his understanding, "I'll never forget his face when he came back from his deployment and I handed Kelsey to him. She wasn't even a month old. I have tried a thousand times to capture that smile on canvass for her, but I can never get it quite right."

Tears started to flow more quickly then, "By the time she turned three, I knew something was not right. Every time we went to the park, I would watch her play, watch the other children play, it just wasn't the same. But Jason had finally made Commander, it was his dream job and he was so caught up in that he just dismissed my concerns as an over-protective mother. He said we should just give her a little brother then I wouldn't have time to worry so much over her. But Jackie saw it too. She recommended I speak to a pediatrician she knew that specialized in autism. Within weeks, Kelsey was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome."

"Like I said Jason might have been able to get over having a girl, but everything that made him such a brilliant SEAL commander was working against him on this one. He was a perfectionist. He demanded nothing less of me, his men and especially himself. But his child was anything but perfect." She shook her head at the understanding it had taken her years of introspection to acquire, "He simply could not handle failure as a father."

She sighed and wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve, "It wasn't just Jason though. The Radcliffes too, simply could not manage Kelsey." She smile sardonically, "Lucky for all of them, that Jason's son showed up. His high school girlfriend had a baby that she never told him about. So all of them were happy. My step son finished the Academy last year, you know. Just like his father."

She looked down and fiddled with the rings on her fingers, the ones that had all been for show. "What I'm about to tell you will probably make me your top suspect. But things had changed. All the nice, civil divorce that our attorneys had negotiated was off. At Thanksgiving, Jason demanded a DNA test on Kelsey. Asked how he could even be sure she was his child? She is, but I had had enough. I was tired of making excuse to my daughter, to myself for his selfish behavior. I told him to screw himself and his money. I decided not to wait for him to retire, I was filing for divorce after the holidays. I don't think anyone knew, not even his parents, about the test or the divorce."

He gave that half smile and passed her another glass of bourbon, "Don't know about suspect, but about damned time if you ask me."

She smiled weakly and drained the glass, "I guess I should have told you all this sooner."

He shrugged and took the glass, "You should go to bed. I'll finish up here. I have an errand to run anyway."

She frowned at his anti-climatic reaction to her revelations, but nodded her head as she stood. Whether she did so too quickly or it was the two glasses of liquor in less than ten minutes, she did not know, but she found herself sprawled across his lap, clutching the front of his shirt and laughing hysterically. Laughing until the tears that would never come finally broke over the dam. Suddenly, those arms that she had longed to feel for the past couple of weeks were wrapped about her. She leaned into him, the clean, fresh smell of coffee and man enveloping her. 

"Deb," he whispered as his fingers laced through her long auburn hair. His eyes searched her face, but she was not certain what he was looking for. But she knew exactly what her body was saying, take him, taste him. And for once in her life, Debbie Radcliffe listened to that impetuous voice. Her hands wrapped about his neck, drawing him closer until she finally did taste him. 

But there was nothing polite or tentative about the kiss. It was wild and wanton as if something that they both kept tightly hidden had been released. And it threatened to consume them both. When they finally broke apart, she was breathless and trembling even more. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have," she knew that she was muttering but could not stop.

He shook his head, "You didn't. It was my fault. I'm the one that should be apologizing."

She shook her head, "Agent Gibbs, I mean Jethro," she stammered, looking for excuses. 

He just shook his head and stood, holding out his hand, he helped her slowly to her feet, "You really should go to bed. Alone."

She nodded and turned towards the hall, but she stopped, holding onto the wall, "I really am sorry."

He smiled and shrugged, "I'm not. So go to bed, Debbie. Before I do something even more stupid."

She bit her lip and considered for a moment taking him up on the unspoken invitation in his eyes. But as always her courage fled her and she followed it down the hall to the room she was staying in and dreams of what might have been. 

***

He stood in the living room and watched her retreat quickly. It was the wise thing, he knew that. But then why did his body scream for him to follow her down that hall. To take what she was unconsciously offering. He shook his head as he looked down at the half completed puzzle of the pink dollhouse. But the surprise seemed so inadequate for the little angel that had captured his heart. Another possession when what the little girl wanted most was something he could not give her. Because as inadequate as Commander Jason Radcliffe might have been as a father at least he had done the one thing that he could not...kept his wife and daughter safe. 

He shook his head at the toy and looked at the clock on the wall. Not quite midnight. Their annual Christmas party was legendary in these parts, so there was no doubt that they would still be up. A quick ride across town. It might not be the daddy that Kelsey asked Santa for, but perhaps her grandparents would do. 

Twenty minutes later, a jean clad Special Agent Jethro Gibbs stood in front of the massive dark wood double doors of the Radcliffe mansion. A wreath of holly and mistletoe was centered on each door. He chuckled when a butler opened the door. He asked to speak with Mister Radcliffe and flashed his badge for good measure. The man escorted him away from the crowd and into a book lined study. Waiting was not one of his favorite games, perhaps it was something else he had in common with the little girl. But he did not have long to wait. Another set of heavy double doors opened and an older man dressed in a tuxedo entered the room, followed by a young one wearing the winter uniform of a United States Naval officer. 




Tis The Season to Gibbs



"Special Agent Gibbs, you asked to see me? I take it there has been a break in my son's case."

Jethro shook his head, "Sorry, sir. We are still in the process of investigating your son's death. I came here tonight on something a bit more personal. Your daughter and granddaughter have been under protective custody since the shooting. Well, tomorrow being Christmas, we are planning a bit of a party for the child," he had not known exactly what to say when he made the decision to come here, but even to his ears, this was not going the way he had hoped. "I wanted to invite you and your wife to join us. For Kelsey's sake."

The man frowned and shook his head, "I don't know what my former daughter told you, Agent Gibbs, but my wife and I are not close to the child. Things are difficult as I can imagine you understand if you have spent any time with the child."

Jethro stepped forward, squaring off with the man. "The child as you say has a name. Kelsey is your granddaughter and she just lost her father. I don't think it would be too much to ask if you and her grandmother stopped by for a bit on Christmas Day."

The man stared back at him, "Even if she were our granddaughter, and I have not been certain of that in some time, Clarisse and I do not intend on mollycoddling the little urchin the way that woman has. If the child has problems, then do the decent thing and send it away to some school where the experts can give it the best chance for survival. That's what the woman should have done, years ago." 

His face became a twisted mask of hatred as he continued, "Please tell her that I know my son was in the process of re-writing his will. Did your investigation reveal that, Agent Gibbs?" he questioned maliciously. "Nevertheless I will bring all of my considerable resources to bear to make certain that she and her bastard receive exactly what's coming to them. Now if you will excuse me, I have guests waiting."

The young man stepped forward, "I'll show Agent Gibbs out, Grandfather."

"Thank you, Michael," the man smiled at him. "See that you do," turning back to Jethro, he added, "If you need anything else for your investigation, please contact my attorney. Good evening, Agent." The man walked deliberately from the room without another word.

The younger man stepped forward and smiled, "I'm sorry you had to see that, Agent Gibbs. I apologize for my grandfather. He might have seemed unsympathetic to Kelsey's cause, but please try to understand, that was simply how things were done in his day. Children with special needs were sent away, it was just a fact of life. My step-mother's refusal to do so has made him a bitter and vindictive man."

Jethro stared at the young officer as he took a small package wrapped in shiny, red paper and tied with a dark green ribbon from his pocket. "I didn't know how I would get this to her, but I hope you'll give this to my little sister. She hasn't had it easy in life. Between my grandparent's archaic ideas and our father's ridiculous demands for DNA tests. But if you will just let her know that her big brother is thinking about her, I'd appreciate it, sir," he smiled as he handed over the package. 

Jethro nodded and followed him out of the room. Something did not feel right. But then again, how could anything feel right when her only family turned away that precious child. Palming the package, he placed it in his coat pocket and headed home. He still had a Barbie Dream House to put together. He only hoped that the doll would be happier there than these people seemed to be in this dream house.

***

Debbie puttered about the kitchen putting the final touches on Christmas dinner. Everyone had arrived already. They were all in the living room, drinking egg nog, eating the leftovers of Santa's cookies and unwrapping presents. But after last night, she knew that the only thing she wanted was not to be found under that tree...although the thought did bring to mind some pretty vivid pictures of him tied in red ribbon and wearing nothing but silk boxers. She smiled at the thought.

"Hey, can I help?" asked the ever bubbly voice.

"No, Abby. I was just finishing up in here. How's it going out there?" Debbie noticed that the woman was wearing the leather jacket that she had gotten her. 

"All right. Timmy really liked your Christmas present," she said as she picked at the ham that was cooling on the counter top.

"I'm glad. I wanted to show all of you how much I appreciate all you have done for Kelsey these past few weeks."

"Speaking of which I put that thing you wanted in your room when I took my coat and bag there. I don't know why I never thought of it. It's perfect, you know. Just what he needs," Abby pronounced as she hugged Debbie.

For a moment, she relaxed into the embrace. Pretending for a moment that she belonged with these people, that she and Kelsey belonged anywhere. As she pulled out of the embrace she swiped at her eyes with the dish cloth in her hand, "So what did Tony think of Ziva's present?" But the answer was interrupted...

***

Gibbs watched the odd compilation of individuals as they milled about his home. It was odd, but in all their years as a team it had never occurred to him to invite them over for the holidays. Of course, holidays were things to be ignored, avoided if you could. But with the giant Christmas tree lighting the whole room, the smells drifting in from the kitchen and especially the smiling little angel laughing and hugging the people that were more like family than work colleagues, he was remembering just how special the holidays could be. 

He noticed that Ducky had his nose deep in the weathered book that he had read dozens if not hundreds of times. Tony sat at the other end of the couch, drinking egg nog and watching Ziva play with Kelsey. He knew he should do something about those two, but it seemed his unexpected guest had better ideas than his. How the woman had managed to pick the exact thing that Ziva had been looking at the mall, he did not know. Perhaps when this was all over, he should see if she wanted a job. With powers of observation like that, she would make a good NCIS agent. 

He raised the cup of egg nog to his lips. Quit thinking like that, he thought. The truth was he was looking for an excuse, any excuse to keep the woman around. The idea of this house going back to the quiet monument that it had been did not bear thinking about. Not today anyway. 

Looking at Ziva as she and Kelsey raised the elevator on the Barbie Dream House, he smiled. Watching Ziva with the doll, he wondered if it was the first time. Even as a child, he could more readily see toy guns in her hands than dolls. But the surprising way that she had taken to the child made him wonder if perhaps the consummate career woman was not re-considering her course. Perhaps she heard the ticking of her biological clock. From the scowl on Tony's face as he watched her play with Kelsey, she was not the only one getting broody.

Timmy was all smiles as he approached him, holding the card that had the IP address and code to access some prototype game that was all the rage. "Hey, boss, I know it is Christmas, but I thought I would let you know that I looked into that will and those tests like you asked."

"And, McGee?"

"Oh yeah, boss. Commander Radcliffe had contacted an attorney about re-writing his will, but nothing specific was set forth yet. He was awaiting the outcome of those DNA tests. The results were to be delivered directly to his attorney's office and he had an appointment two days after he was murdered."

"Two days, McGee? You said tests. What tests?" he asked as he watched Kelsey head back towards the tree.

"Yeah, boss, tests. Two of them. One for Kelsey and another on a Michael Thompson Radcliffe, his."

"His illegitimate son," Gibbs finished the thought for the man just as Kelsey reached the tree.

"Hey, look! There's another one way back here," she shouted as she stretched to reach for it.

Time seemed to slow like in a bad movie or in a game replay after the umpire made a bad call. He screamed, "No, Kelsey," as he threw the cup at Timothy. He knocked the couch over, sending both Ducky and Tony sprawling on the floor. Ziva froze by the doll house as he lunged for the child. He shoved her towards the woman, propelling them both backwards. And then it happened.

***

Debbie looked around the dimly lit hospital room. Kelsey lay across her lap. Her bandaged head rested in her mother's lap, her eyes closed in sleep. The doctors had wanted to admit the child overnight for observation, but Debbie had not wanted to be torn. Instead she had compromised, so periodically nurses stopped by and checked on her daughter. 

More accurately torn again. When the bomb went off, she and Abby had rushed from the kitchen. Her heart had stopped when she saw Kelsey lying unconscious next to Ziva. She had raced towards them only to trip over him in the clearing smoke. She had frozen, uncertain what to do, whom to care for first. But Ducky had pushed her aside and began to administer first aid to Jethro. She had gone to Kelsey and Ziva but even then she had kept looking over to where Ducky was working on him.

By the time the ambulances arrived Kelsey had come too. Ziva had a dislocated shoulder, the doctors had reluctantly released her too after they reset it. Tony had reassured them that he would make certain she followed their orders. He had managed to finally convince her to take one of the pain medications that the doctors had ordered. He and Ducky had only a couple of minor scratches, the upturned couch acted as a shield of sorts from the blast. 

Timmy, like she and Abby, was far enough away from the blast that he had escaped unharmed. His only injury was a minor burn from the slipped coffee when Jethro shoved the cup at him. With Director Vance, he was following up on the arrest of Ensign Michael Radcliffe for the murder of his father. While Abby paced the room nervously. Her normally bubbly personality dark and foreboding, but the energy was just as intense, like a summer storm building from the heat.

Someone pressed a paper cup into her trembling hand. Debbie smiled up at Ducky, who had finally given up the pretense of reading his book, even though he barely turned the page every half an hour. It was his own trembling fingers that insisted she take the cup of coffee, "Drink this." She nodded and took a single sip of the weak drink. 

"He'll be fine, you know. Jethro is tough. I remember the time," he began but his story was cut short as the doctor entered the drab waiting room. His scrubs were covered in blood and his face was unreadable. Her hold on Kelsey tightened as she waited for the man's words.

"We've done what we can for now. We removed shrapnel from his chest and re-inflated the collapsed lung. I'm sorry though we could not salvage his left hand. Of course, with the swelling in his brain that is the least of our worries. I really can't promise you anything, folks. The next couple of days are critical. But he is coming out of the anesthetic. He's asking for Shannon and Kelly?" 

A collective sigh went up as Ducky explained, "They are his dead wife and daughter."

The doctor nodded as he looked at Debbie and Kelsey, "I'm sorry. I just figured," he mumbled. "Yes, well, we can allow two people back at a time, but only for a couple of minutes each. 

***

Special Agent Jethro Gibbs looked around. How had he gotten into his backyard. The last thing he remembered was. What was the last thing? Oh yes, putting together a pink dollhouse for Kelly. The Christmas tree shimmering and sparkling as he and Shannon kissed beside the warmth of the fire. He loved the holidays. She always made them so special. 

So where were they now? He spotted a young woman conversing with a little girl under the tree. Her dark auburn hair fell about her face so that he could not make out the details, but he got the impression he knew her well. At first he had thought the child was Kelly. She was about the right age, but her hair was much to light to be his daughter. One of her friends, maybe? But then where was Kelly?

He turned to go back into the house to look for his wife and child, but a hand reached out and grasped his. He whirled around, a smile split his face when he recognized his wife. "Hey, Shannon, what's up?"

He did not like the look on her face. It was her 'we need to talk' face. He wondered what he had done wrong now. "Shannon?" he asked.

She nodded, "You have to let us go, Jethro. It's time. We brought you what you need now. But you can't move on and neither can Kelly and I. Not until you let us go. Please let us go," she pleaded to him through tears.

Let them go? Why should he let them go? They were his family. Then it all came crashing in on him again. Like it always did. They were gone. Dead. Murdered. And he could do nothing to stop it. Nothing to protect his family. 

Just like he had failed to protect the little girl. Kelsey. He recognized her talking with the young woman. He called out, "Kelsey." And everything went black.

"Clear!" the voice drifted through the haze. "I think we have him back." But back for what, he thought as he allowed his mind to drift off to sleep.

***

"Debs," he called from the living room couch. The fire was just embers as the sunlight drifted into the dark paneled room. He had been home a week now. If you could call it home. Home was something that he had not known for over twenty years. He worked and he existed. Except thanks to his injuries, he would not be working again for weeks, perhaps months. 

Rehabilitation to learn to use a prosthetic. After all his tours of duty, this was not how he expected to lose his hand. He looked down at the white bandage that covered the stump. Not that he would do a god damned thing differently. The little girl was safe. Kelsey would be all right. The threat to her and her mother eliminated. 

"Debbie," he called out once more.

The woman appeared in the door way. Her hands were on her hips. "What is it now? More coffee? You can't find the remote? You know, Leroy, you have to be the world's worst patient. Ever."

He loved how her cheeks flamed such a hot pink when she got mad at him. Hell, he might keep her angry just to see that color on them. All the time. Of course, he could do without the Leroy bit. She seemed to know it would irritate him. Rub him the wrong way. But he would much rather she rub him in an entirely different manner. 

If some part of him felt a tiny pang of guilt for playing up his injuries, for using her own guilt about losing his hand protecting Kelsey, well, it could go fuck itself. He would do whatever it took to keep them here as long as he could. No longer. Forever. He was not going back to living in a quiet mausoleum. He much preferred the loud laughter that accompanied Kelsey when she burst through the day after school each day. Yes, she reminded him of Kelly, and of Abby. But she was neither of them. She was Kelsey. And she needed him almost as much as he needed them. 

He noticed the streak of dark red paint on her cheek and ached to wipe it away. "Sorry if I interrupted your painting," he began.

She glared at him, "I seriously doubt that."

"I was just thinking that perhaps Kelsey would like to go down to the Naval Yard when she comes in from school," he smiled.

"You mean, you want to go. Check in on your team and whatever investigation they are doing now. Don't use my daughter as your excuse, Jethro," she said as she picked up the coffee cup from the table next to him. He reached out and grabbed her wrist with his good hand.

"Deb, you know that she misses Abby and the lab." 

Her auburn curls floated gently about her face as she shook her head. "What am I going to do with the two of you?"

'Love us,' was the answer on the tip of his tongue, but he and Kelsey had a lot more work to do before she was ready to here that one. "All right. I'll clean up my brushes. Call it a day with the painting and throw dinner on so it is ready when we get back."

He smiled, "Thanks. How is your painting coming anyway?"

"It is almost done actually. Just working on a few final touches," she replied.

"Are you always so mysterious about your work?" he asked.

She chuckled, "If you only knew."

But there was so many mysteries about this woman that he wanted to discover. What was under the canvas in his solarium took second place to what was under her clothes, that was for certain. But he would bide his time. His skills as a sniper would come in handy on this mission. He could wait. Patiently for hours, days, even weeks. But he had this woman in his sites and she was not getting away. The words from his dream came back to him...'brought you what you need now.' Debbie and Kelsey Radcliffe were most definitely what he needed now.

***

Debbie tucked her daughter into bed. She reached for the book on the nightstand next to her. "What story tonight, sweet pea?"

"Can Jethro read it to me, Mommy?" her daughter smiled. 

She sighed. Her child had latched onto the man from the moment that Director Vance had deposited them on his doorstep, but since the accident it had become even worse. One of the hardest things for parents with children on the Autistic Spectrum was managing their children's attachments. For some they were distant, seemingly uncaring of even those closest to them. But for many others they formed bonds too easily, latching onto virtual strangers like they were best friends. 

Kelsey had always been one of those types. Teachers, Scout leaders, family friends, the child trusted everyone. Despite the terrible betrayals she had experienced in her young life. Her father. Her grandparents. Even the young man that had pretended to be her big brother. Debbie bore the brunt of it all, making explanations, excuses and apologies to everyone for the inappropriate behaviors. 

But this was worse. After years of craving the attention and love of her father, Kelsey had found a man, who seemed to need the endless fountain of love she had to give almost as much as her child needed him. But it could never work. Kelsey was not Kelly. And she could never be the breath-taking Shannon. She had spent her whole life pretending to be what people needed her to be. Whatever foster parents she was with this month. Her husband ands. The other Navy wives. 

Only in her painting had Debbie been able to express who she was. She was lucky that whoever that person was, her work was becoming a sought after commodity. Her agent had usually managed to sale her latest painting before it was even finished. Just the rough sketches or a few photographs of the work in progress from the elusive artist De-Borah was enough to bring in what she considered ludicrous sums of money, more than some families made in a year. But her current work in progress was not for sale. Not at any price. It was to be a thank you and farewell present to the man, who saved her daughter's laugh. 

A man, who if she gave herself half a chance, could weave a web around her heart as surely as he already had her child's. But it would all be an illusion. Another lie. And she was finished with living lies. She might not know for certain who she was , but she knew who she was not...and a stand-in for the other woman was not it. And the sooner they all started to face that fact, the better.

"Kelsey, I'm sure that Mister Gibbs is too busy to read to you right now," she replied as she reached for the book, but his hand covered hers. 

"Never too busy for my girls," he smiled down at her daughter. The lump in her throat at the look in those grey-blue depths made it hard for her to breath. He was not helping here. She would have to talk to him, establish boundaries like she could not really with her daughter. He needed to pull back, not re-enforce the child's fantasies. But now was not the time for that conversation. Not in front of Kelsey. There would be plenty of time for that conversation tomorrow, when the girl was at school. Yes, tomorrow, she would have a long talk with Agent Gibbs. 




Tis The Season to Gibbs



But for now, she needed to escape the silver strands of the man's web. As quickly as she could, she needed to escape from Jethro. She bent and kissed Kelsey's brow. "All right then, I'll leave you two to read. I'm tired myself. Sleep well, angel."

Her daughter shook her head, "I'm no angel, Mommy. But I have one. She's so pretty and she comes to me in my dreams. She told me that she was going to bring me to the best Daddy in the whole wide world. And she did."

Debbie choked at her daughter's frank and honest words. Her eyes glazed over with tears as she mumbled good night once more and practically ran from the room. She barely made it behind the closed doors of the room she was staying in when they began to spill over in torrents. She threw herself across the bed and cried herself to sleep. The embarrassment she felt at Kelsey's innocent claim on the man was nothing compared to the heart ache of the pain that Debbie knew was to come. Some dreams just never came true.

***

Screams rent his sleep. He sat up straight in his bed, tossing back the covers. For a moment, he was not certain where he was. It was always like that when he woke from nightmares. Was it Iraq? Mexico? Or a thousand horrible other places he had been, the things he had seen? He took a deep breath and realized that this time it was not his screams that had woken him. He padded from his room, wearing nothing but the boxers that he had taken to wearing since they had moved into his house.

When he opened his door, he saw her sleepy little head poking from the doorway of Kelly's old room. But the screams could still be heard, it was obviously not Kelsey. The distraught look on the child's face brought out every protective instinct inside of him. He needed to make this right for her. He bent down in front of the child.

"Someone's hurting Mommy. Make them stop, Daddy," she pleaded. His heart stopped at the word that he had not heard in almost twenty years. 

"Shh, baby girl. Your Mommy's just having a bad dream," he tried to explain.

She pulled out of his arm and shook her head, "Dreams aren't bad. Dreams are good. They are where we go to visit our angels. You think my angel can go take care of Mommy?"

"Tell you what, Kelsey, you go back to bed. Go to sleep and ask your angel to do that. I'll go make sure that your Mommy is all right until then. We got a deal?"

The girl smiled widely as if certain that everything would be perfect now. She hugged him and whispered, "I know you'll take care of us, the angel said so." Then she turned and slipped back inside the room that was a living testament to how inadequate he really was at taking care of those he loved the most. 

He knelt in the hallway for a moment, trying to collect his courage. Maybe he should go back to his room, the screams were beginning to quiet a bit. The woman had made it more than obvious since Christmas night that she did not need or want his protection. It was only her guilt and sense of responsibility that he had manipulated that had kept her here at all. This was a bad idea, he thought as he turned the nob on the bedroom door. 

Bare limbs were tangled in the white sheets. Her tiny fists plummeted the mattress next to her. Those auburn curls that always made his cock rock hard were strewn across the pillow, a tangled mess. Her green eyes were staring at the ceiling, but he could tell they saw other things. 

"No," she screamed. He could tell that her voice was hoarse, she had cried so loudly that she barely had one left. What nightmare could be so horrid? The woman has seen so much in the past few weeks. Her husband gunned down in his study. The bombing that was meant to kill her and her daughter. It was no wonder she was having nightmares. Post Traumatic Stress, PTSD, why had he not thought of it sooner? Made her talk to someone? But it was too late now. Now he just needed to talk her down. Bring her out of that place slowly.

He walked slowly to the bed, knelt down next to it. His voice was low and calm as he called her name, "Debbie. Debbie, it's all right. It is just a dream. Kelsey is fine. She's asleep in the room across the hall. Your daughter is safe," he reassured her.

The creature that had overtaken her body shook more violently. Her voice was nothing more than a loud, breathless whisper, "Not Kelsey. Kelsey's going to be fine. Him," she cried.

Jethro felt the invisible knife to his heart. He knew that the woman still made excuses for her husband's heartless rejection of his child, but how could she possibly still love the man so much that his death brought on nightmares? Nightmares more so than even the accident that had been intended for her daughter? 

"He's hurt. I have to go to him," she cried still unseeing. 

He risked it and reached out, brushing her bare arm softly as he spoke, "Debbie, Kelsey needs you. You have to come back to her."

She nodded her head, "You're right. Kelsey needs me. Kelsey. Kelsey's hurt, but so is he. Oh god, who do I go to? How do I decide? Kelsey," she sobbed. He pulled her gently towards him, wrapping her in his arms slowly so as not to startle her. 

"Jethro," she cried out and for a moment he thought that she was coming out of it. Recognized his touch. But then she was pushing him away, fighting wildly to break free of his hold. "Jethro," she cried again. "Let me go. Have to get to him. He's hurt. Oh god," she cried. 

He could not breath as her words sunk into his thick skull. It was him. She was dreaming about the explosion. And it was him that she was fighting to get to. He was torn. He knew that he needed to bring her out of the dream slowly and safely. But god damn it to hell, his body was on fire. Holding her like this, her nightmare-induced words revealing truths he knew she would never willingly offer. It was the first shimmer of hope that he had had since that kiss by the tree on Christmas Eve and he wanted all that it elusively offered. 

First things first though, "Shh, Debs, I'm right here, sweetheart. I'm fine. Kelsey is fine. Everything is going to be all right." He ran his good hand up and down her bare arm as he held her, pressing kisses into the tangled mass that smelled like sunshine and honeysuckles. He moved her over in the bed slowly, lying next to her on top of the covers. He drew her into his arms and held her as the crying quieted. He was not sure how long they stayed like that until he heard the soft snores caress his bare chest. 

"Fuck," he spat into the chilly night air. He was hard as a rock. Holding her like this was doing things to his body that he could not honestly remember feeling in a very long time. 

Shannon. Jennie. And now Debbie. His track record at protecting the women he loved was not good. Yet that was the number one thing that a good Dom was supposed to do. Protect his sub. But he had failed Shannon. He had committed the cardinal sin of placing something above the safety of his wife and sub. He loved this country, but he had loved his family more. It was too late by the time he realized that. It was too late too by the time he realized how Jennie felt. 

But it did not have to be with Debbie. They had been given a second chance. He had done it this time. He had managed to save his daughter and the woman he loved. And that little girl had become his daughter. Even before those precious sleepy words in the hall, he had known that. Now he wanted her to repeat them over and over again. Thousands of times, tens of thousands, a million times over a lifetime. And he wanted this woman that he held to offer up her sweet admissions, not out of fear in her nightmares, but in passion in his arms, under his lips, as his body showed her how much he returned them. 

Drowsiness fogged his thinking. All he knew was how fucking right it felt to hold this woman in his arms as he fell asleep. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would formulate a battle strategy to make sure that this was just the first night of the rest of their lives. He kissed her forehead and drew her closer against his body. Damn, it was uncomfortable trying to fall asleep with a raging hard-on but it would be worth it in the end. He would make damned sure of that.

***

Debbie frowned as she curled closer to the warmth of the firm pillow. Her nipples hardened against the soft silk of her nightgown. It smelled just like him, she thought as wetness pooled between her thighs. Coffee and man, she held the thought as she buried her face in the slightly rough fur that covered her pillow. 

Fur? Pillow? She swallowed hard as the fuzz cleared from her addled brain. The dim light of pre-dawn filtered through the open curtains as she tentatively opened her eyes and took in the bare expanse of his chest. His chest hairs tickled her nose. The warmth of bare skin greeted her seeking fingers as they curled into his side. 

She tried to remember. How had he gotten into her bed? Oh god, what had happened? Had she finally found it impossible to deny her body what it wanted most? No, there was no doubt if she had it would be feeling much more satisfied than the needy traitor that ached and pleaded for her fingers to explore lower. 

So what had happened? She knew enough about the man to know he would never take advantage of their situation to simply climb into her bed. She racked her brain for an answer, but without the caffeine hit from a cup of steamy hot coffee, she came up empty handed. Except her hands weren't empty, they had exactly what they wanted. More so than even coffee this morning. 

She sighed as she tried to slip quietly out of his arms, but they only tightened about her waist. She worked up her courage and looked up into those blue-grey depths that were clouded with sleep. Or was it desire? She swallowed as she sought words, something to say, anything.

"Good morning," his voice was impossibly low as the words caressed her skin. 

Her nipples hardened into hard points against the thin layer of silk that separated them from his chest. Needy heat clinched at her womb as his lips covered hers. They were hard and demanding, his teeth nibbled at her lower lip until her fingernails sank deep into his flesh. Her lips parted in a soft moan and he took the opportunity to plunder the recesses of her mouth with his tongue until she was clinging and trembling beneath him. His lips left hers, trailing kisses and tiny bites down the side of her neck. She bit into her lower lip to hold back the moans, only to discover that it was ultra sensitive and sore from his ministrations. 

"Jethro, please," she pleaded. 

"Please what, Debs," he asked against the pounding pulse in her throat. His words caressing her skin caused it to pound even more erratically. 

"We have to stop," her words were negated by the greedy way that her fingers clenched his warm skin, drawing his body closer against her. Until she felt the hard length of his erection pressed at the juncture of her thighs. She did moan then.

His hand came up to cup her breast through the thin material, his fingers plucked and pulled at the tender flesh of her nipple. "No, Debbie. We don't and we aren't. You want me just as much as I need you," his hand trailed slowly down her side and around her hip. His fingers found her throbbing clitoris and she cried out as the rough pad of his thumb stroked the nub. 

She moaned as she arched into his caress, his teeth finding the sensitive spot where her shoulder and neck came together. "This changes nothing, Jethro," her words sounded hallow even to her own ears as she spread her legs, his fingers sinking inside her wet core as she arched into his touch. 

"Yes, it does. And you know it," he said as he curled his fingers inside of her, finding the magic spot that sent her body spiraling out of control. 

Her fingernails sank even deeper into his flesh. She knew that they would break the skin, leaving small crescents on his side. But she was beyond caring as she gave into the power of her orgasm. "Jethro," she cried out, burying her face into his shoulder to keep from screaming out and waking Kelsey. 

She felt him shift, move over her. "Debbie, my fucking boxers. Use those vicious nails of yours for something useful, baby. I need to be inside of you. Now," he commanded. 

Her mind argued with her body. This was insanity. Was she really about to have unprotected sex with this man? But it seemed her body had by-passed her conflicted mind as she realized her hands were moving, complying with his demands. But they were not just his, her body wanted this, needed this just as badly. Just like he had said.

Her head arched back against the pillow as he filled her. Her body that was still recovering from that first orgasm was suddenly flying out of control as another claimed her. And another as he moved deeper still. She clung to him as the roller coaster ride pushed her higher and higher, leaving her hanging, then plunging her down, faster and harder than anything she had ever felt. Ever imagined. 

"Jethro," she cried out as his lips claimed hers. Drinking in her screams. Swallowing each moaning plea as he drove her higher and harder. She did not think she could handle even one more staggering orgasm as she whimpered and clung to him. She pleaded with him, but she was not sure what it was she wanted. Or needed. "Jethro," she whispered reverently as she felt her body tightening and pulling at his hard shaft inside her. 

"Yes, baby. Yes, I'm right with you, sweetheart. Let go. God, let go, baby girl," he whispered against the side of her face and he lunged so deeply inside of her that she swore they would actually fuse together, entwined for all time, interlocked for eternity. The tsunami crested over her already satisfied and exhausted body, wiping away everything she thought she knew. Everything that was solid and secure in her world tilted and was torn away as she drifted back to this strange new world in his arms.

They were both still clothed. Her nightgown bunched about her thighs. His boxers pushed down just enough to free his cock. But never had she felt more naked. More vulnerable. As the enormity of their actions floated into her sex soaked mind. 

"Oh my god," she breathed.

"I prefer Master, but I'll take god as long as you look as satisfied as you do right now," he teased against her neck.

She pushed at him, trying to dislodged his weight that her own body found surprisingly reassuring. "Be serious. This is no time for teasing, Jethro."

He rose up above her, just enough to stare down into her eyes. She sucked in a deep breath as the movement caused his still hard cock to press even deeper inside of her. His own eyes clouded over as the after tremors betrayed her words. 

"I'm dead serious, Debs."

Anger welled up inside of her at the confidence he wore like a second skin. How could he be so fucking calm about everything when her mind was reeling with the ramifications of what had just happened between them? She used that burst of anger, transferring its energy as she shoved at his bad shoulder this time. It was just enough to catch him off balance, enough for her to slip from beneath him, running for the door as his laughter trailed after her. 

***

She had been hiding from him all day. First she had fussed and fiddled with getting Kelsey ready for school. Then she had spent the rest of the day hiding in her work, painting in the solarium. He was getting more than a bit curious about what was on that canvas that she kept hidden beneath the cloth when she was not working on it. He knew that whatever it was, she found satisfying and relaxing. 

She had been an art major before dropping out of college to marry the asshole, as he still thought of the dead man. After that she had lost herself in becoming the perfect officer's wife and mother, as she said. But obviously, some part of her soul still belonged to her first love of art. He just hoped that the unfiltered truth of her nightmares meant what he thought it did, that some part of her heart belonged to him as well. He was counting on it...and the way her body responded to his. 

But first he needed to put an end to this hiding. He smiled as he watched her and Kelsey slip from the bathroom. His little girl was wearing pink bunny pajamas with feet. And looked almost as cute as her mother. 

"Ready for your bedtime story, princess?" he tried to look innocent as he smiled at them, holding up the storybook. 

The child pounced across the hallway towards him. She grabbed his hand and practically drug him into the bedroom as he saw her mother biting her lower lip and turning towards the door across the hall. He dropped down and whispered conspiratorially with her for a moment. 

"Mommy, mommy," the child cried out as she rushed out into the hall and blocked her mother's escape. "You have to come to."

Debbie shook her head. "It's fine, sweetie. Let Mister Gibbs read you your story tonight. I can use the break until we move back home."

Kelsey pulled at her hand and shook her head, "No, Mommy. I told you the angel said," the child began.

"Kelsey, there are no angels. No happily ever afters. No perfect daddies," she cried out at the child. He felt the sharp pain of guilt as he watched the little girl's lip curl up and saw the huge tears gathering in her eyes. He stood up to go to them when Debbie dropped to her knees next to her daughter, wrapping the little girl in her arms. "No perfect Mommies either, sweet pea. I'm sorry for yelling at you. It isn't your fault. Mommy is just worried," she paused.

"But you don't need to worry anymore, Mommy. That's what Daddies are supposed to do," the child caressed her mother's cheek as tears spilled from both their eyes. 

Deb sighed, "Oh sweetie, if life were only that simple," she muttered as she kissed her. 

The girl drew back and tugged at her hand, "Come listen to my bedtime story, Mommy. Please."

Her green eyes met his over the child's head. He watched the battle play out in them, the needless battle, the one she was not going to win. Maybe he was playing dirty, but that was nothing new. He did what he needed to win, whatever it took. And if that meant utilizing the big gun of her daughter's happiness, so be it. He saw resignation lit in the depths of her eyes and knew that he had accomplished his goal. He had won this battle...and he was one step closer to winning the war. 

He could barely think. Let alone read with her sitting so close to him on the tiny bed. Honeysuckles and woman enveloped his senses in a cloud of need that he swore was building towards a super cell of passion that would consume them both.

"And they lived happily ever after," he smiled down at the sleepy eyes of the little girl as they began to drift close.

"See, Mommy. They lived happily ever after. I told you so," she whispered as her mother bent to kiss the top of her head. 

He slipped quietly into the hall and waited as she tucked the child in for the night. Time for the real battle to begin. Her shoulders were slumped as she tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind her. He leaned against the one across the hall, blocking her route of escape. She squared her shoulders and stared at him, fight suddenly sparking back to life in those green depths.

"Move, Jethro. I'm tired and I want to go to bed," she met his gaze and held it for a moment. It became a battle of wills, a stare down. "Alone," she spat as if to end the argument.

He stepped away from the door and watched her sigh at the seeming ease of victory. But her confidence was short lived as he stopped in front of her. Their bodies were so close that he could almost feel the electric sparks of sexual energy arcing between them. He stared down into her eyes. She dropped her gaze quickly. He smiled. That single move told him volumes about his woman. She was as submissive as he thought. 

He had long since learned that the seemingly strongest women almost always were. Like the woman before him, they might battle for careers or their families, but the one place they did not want to win the battle was the bedroom. Only with a man stronger than they were could they find the kind of sensual release and freedom in their own submissive natures. And he was so looking forward to training this one, showing her the depths of her own submission and the heights to which it and he could take her body, mind and soul. 




Tis The Season to Gibbs



And it would begin now, his hand wrapped firmly enough about her throat, but not so tightly as to cause any real pain or even to restrict her airway. That got her full attention. But there would be time enough for breath play when he had earned enough of her trust to warrant that advanced level of play between a Master and his cherished slave. 

Her green eyes were wide and held just a hint of fear as they stared up into his. Just the right touch of fear, enough to ensure her obedience. But it was the other to which his body was even more attuned. He watched as her nipples strained against the material of her blouse. Her pupils constricted as passion clouded her vision. He could even detect the slight hint of arousal that betrayed her bodies true submission to its Master.

"Do. Not. Speak." He issued their first true order.

"I told you. This changes nothing," her words of disobedience sealed her fate.

"We will start with ten for that, sweetheart," he gritted out against the soft skin of her cheek. His fingers covered her lips this time. "Think carefully before you speak again, baby girl. Because I'll add five more lashes for every word you say." His hand caressed the full softness of her bottom in the rough denim material. They would discuss wardrobe later. "And for a novice even bare handed spankings can be challenging."

Her laughter was not the response he expected. She held her stomach as tears filled her eyes and the sound wrapped about him like a coat on a cold winter morning. "You are just full of surprises, aren't you, darling?" he asked. "Want to tell me what's so funny?" But she just stared up at him mutely. It took him a moment staring into those green depths to realize what she waited for. He frowned as he gave it, "Permission to speak."

"What makes you think I'm a novice, Jethro?" she teased. "You aren't the only Dom, you know. It might have been a long time since I've played, but ten bare-handed swats won't even get me wet. If you want to play you better bring out your toy bag, sweetie. Otherwise your hand is going to get very tired."

He chuckled at her bold response. It made perfect sense. No wonder she responded so easily to him. He pondered this turn of events. But rather than disappointment that he would not get to train her himself, he felt elated that he could move at a faster pace. 

His fingers pinched her nipple, "If it has been a while, I suppose the clovers will have to wait," he whispered as he looked into her eyes.

She flinched a bit, "Yeah, I will most definitely have to work up to those."

"But these tits will look magnificent bound with a nice set of nipple clamps on them."

Her eyes constricted again as she drew in a deep breath. "Like I said last night, this changes nothing, Jethro. I'm not allowing you and Kelsey to draw me into your little fantasies. I don't want to play house." Her hand slipped between them, caressing his erection through his jeans. "If you want to play a different kind of game, we can. But on my terms."

He smiled, "You should know, it is always the sub, who holds all the cards, sweetie."

"Oh, I do. So here is my hard limits. I'm not Shannon. And this is nothing more sex. Pure sex between consenting adults. Nothing more. So don't think you can use my child to draw me into your sick fantasies, Jethro."

He drew in a deep breath at her words, gathering his own, he began, "You are right. I had no right to use Kelsey like I did. I apologize." His finger caressed her cheek as he matched her gaze, "But you are wrong about something else. The only one pretending here is you. Pretending that this doesn't mean anything to you."

His eyes never left hers as he continued, "And trust me, sweetheart, I know exactly who I'm loving. Shannon is dead. She has been for years. Kelsey is no substitute for Kelly, she never has been. And you are no stand-in for my dead wife." His hand cupped her breast squeezing it hard enough that she took in a deep breath and let out a soft moan. "Make no mistake about it, Debs, you are mine."

She shook her head, "No, no, I'm not. I'm my own person. I learned a long time about the dangers of gifting your submission on the wrong Master. I won't make that mistake again."

He breathed against her ear, "You aren't. But we could stand in this hall all night arguing the specifics. How about a compromise? Will you submit to me this night?"

She turned her head, a wide smile on her face. "One night? Only Top me? Nothing more?" she asked.

"For now," he answered. She nodded as he held out his hand. She placed hers in his. "Seal the deal with a kiss?" he pleaded as he drew her into his arms. She nodded as her eyes went to his lips. He closed the distance between them slowly. 'Let the games begin,' he thought.

He kept the kiss light, feathering teasing licks and nibbles at her lower lip for several moments. She was whimpering softly by the time he drew back slowly. "Safe word?"

She smiled and winked, "Semper fi?"

He chuckled and shook his head, "God, I love," he caught himself. Stopping the words before they could end this game. "I love your sense of humor, darling. Semper fi, it is then. Use it if you need to."

She turned towards her room, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall. "Too close to Kelsey. I was afraid your cries would wake her last night and trust me that was nothing like what I have planned for you tonight. Hell, even in my room, I'll probably need a damned gag. Baby, you are a screamer."

Debbie blushed and dropped her eyes, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I'm not complaining, just compensating," he chuckled as he opened the door to his room. He stood back for her to enter, but stopped her in the threshold. Looking down at her, he asked solemnly, "You sure about this, sweetheart?"

She sighed, "One night of play, Jethro. That's all we're doing."

"Oh, we are going to play, baby girl. Beginning now. Strip. And kneel."

Her eyes widened at his lower tone of voice, at his demands. For a moment she hesitated and he feared that she would back out of even this. But then she lifted trembling fingers and began to work the buttons of her blouse. He walked to the bed, sitting at the bottom of it. His eyes never left hers as the blouse slid slowly down her arms, with a soft shrug it fell to the floor. Her fingers went to button and zipper on her jeans. 

"Turn around," he commanded as he stroked his growing erection through his own jeans. "I want to see that cute ass all nice and pale." He paused as she turned and began inching the material over her generous curves, "Before I turn it red." She stopped with the material half way over her ass, "Did I tell you to stop, baby girl?"

"No, sir," she replied in a soft whisper. Her use of the word caused his stomach to flop, just as it did when Kelsey called him Daddy. Both felt so right to the very depths of his soul. He would not fail. Not this time. He had a second chance and he was not fool enough to lose it. 

Her jeans pooled about her ankles and she stepped from them slowly. "The panties too, Debs. You know your bottom should be bare when I spank it." 

Her fingers hooked under the sides of them and pushed them slowly down her long legs. He breathed in deeply as she bent over. Her ass and the hint of that sweet cunt that he had fucked the night before had him gritting his teeth. His hand stilled on his cock. He did not want this night ending that quickly. As she slowly spread her legs, stepping from the scrap of silk, he reconsidered his decision. He should probably take the edge off.

"Turn back around, Debs. You are still overdressed. I did not get to see those sweet titties last night." She obeyed, keeping her eyes down this time as she reached behind her. The matching bra slid slowly down her arm until it dangled from her fingertips over the pool of discarded clothes on the floor. "I'm waiting, baby girl." It fell to the floor as she did.

He sucked in a deep breath at the sight of her kneeling on his bedroom floor. Her thighs were spread open, revealing the folds of her bare pussy. Her stomach had the slight softness of a woman who had born a child. He considered for a moment what she would have looked like, swollen and ripe. Perhaps. 

He closed his eyes and demanded that his body and mind take things slowly. She had consented to just one night. This night and he needed to make damned certain that it was unforgettable. That every time she closed her eyes, she felt his hands on her. His lips. His body inside of hers. He needed to mark her as his...forever. 

Opening his eyes, he looked at the round globes of her C-cup breasts. Her arms were folded behind her back, causing them to jut out nicely. They sagged just a touch, as naturally beautiful as the woman herself. Her areolas were a dark pink and the size of quarters. But her nipples were what held his attention. They were hard and protruding proudly from her chest, begging for his touch, his lips suckling, his teeth biting down until she arched off the bed, screaming in pain and pleasure. 

Her head was down, the natural position of a sub to her Dom. He reminded himself once more that she had not even granted him that much. Top. He was only allowed to Top her this night only. But something dark and primal screamed inside him. She is my slave and I her Master. But that would have to come later, when he had earned her trust. 

Her red curls fell about her face. Hiding it from him. Hiding the emotions that so easily pulled at its features. "Permission to look at me, baby girl." She lifted her chin slowly. Their eyes locked. He watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Saw the spread of pink across her cheeks, down her neck and almost to the very tips of her breasts. 

"That's it, Debbie. Feel it. Feel it all. Feel how natural it is to kneel before me. I bet your sweet little pussy is almost dripping just from it. Touch yourself for me, baby girl." He watched as her arms dropped from behind her back. Her hand moved between her spread thighs. Her fingers dipped between the folds of her cunt. She moaned as they slipped inside of her, just as his cock had the night before. 

"That's right, sweetie. Make yourself come for me," he purred as her eyes closed. Her fingers worked faster across her clitoris. He studied the rhythm and pressure, noted it exactly for use later. If whipping did not send her into subspace, he would use forced orgasms to do so. 

Her body tensed, he knew she was close, right on the edge. "Open your eyes, baby girl. Look at me when you come. I want to watch you, all of you," he commanded, his voice rough and low. 

Those green eyes flew open at his command as her breath caught, "Jethro," she whimpered as she bite her lower lip hard. Her body convulsed. He watched the tension in it peak, reaching a massive crescendo like a Beethoven symphony, then slid easily into softer whispers of the woodwinds. 

"Good girl," he praised her obedience. "Lick your fingers. Taste your sweet pussy," her eyes widened once more. He saw her cheeks redden even more at his bold demands, noted her slight embarrassment and hesitation. "Just like I'm going to. Taste your sweet cunt as it comes for me. Drink your juices until you are mindless. One orgasm after the other," his promises hung between them. 

She slowly brought her fingers to her mouth. Her eyes dropped once more as she placed them to her lips. "No, baby girl. You aren't getting away with that. Did I tell you that you could look away. No. I want to see your eyes when you realize how sweet and tasty your little cunt is." 

She swallowed, her throat working convulsively, but she obeyed. Her eyes timidly met his. "Good girl," he purred. "Tell me what you taste like."

She stuck one finger deep into her mouth. The pain was almost physical as his mind imagined what it would feel like to have those lips wrapped around his hard cock. He stood up, walking over to her. Their eyes locked. His hand wrapped through her hair, pulling her head back so that she stared straight up at him. "Better yet. Show me. Feed me the other one," he ordered. 

She smiled as she lifted her hand towards his lips. He bent to meet her half way, drawing it into her mouth just as she had. He moaned around it as the intense flavors hit him right in the gut. He wanted to push her back, fall on the floor between her thighs and eat her, just as his words had promised. But not yet, he commanded his body back into its own submission. 

"Delicious," he muttered as he smiled into her gaze. "Now, baby girl. Undress me." She started to rise up from the kneeling position. "No, start at my feet and work your way up, baby." 

She nodded as her fingers began to fumble at the laces of his shoes. It took her far longer than it would have him, even one handed. But he waited. Smiled at her trembling attempts, praised her efforts until she slipped the last sock from his foot. "Belt next, baby girl." He watched her throat move nervously once more and smiled. 

Her fingers were even more clumsy as they attempted to free the buckle. She cursed, "Damn it." 

His hand tugged hard at her hair, pulling her eyes back up to his. "That is another ten. Ladies don't use those kinds of words." She nodded and dropped her eyes back to the task at hand. A sharp tug and the belt slipped free. "Good girl. Now my jeans."

Her fingers were a bit more coordinated as they freed the button from its hole and grasp the zipper, lowering it quickly. Her soft hands slipped inside his shorts. "No rushing, princess. Jeans only this time." She nodded and he immediately regretted the decision, his skin cried out in protest as her hands left it to be replaced by the rough cotton of his boxers once more. He was not sure who was suffering more from this slow torture anymore. She tugged his jeans down his legs and he stepped free of first one then other leg. 

"Shirt now, baby," he commanded, watching her rise to her feet. She stepped closer to him. Her breast brushed against his chest. He tugged at her hair again. "I think someone has forgotten what submission means. Did I tell you that you could touch me, sweetheart? Are you trying to top from the bottom?"

She shook her head, her eyes pleading with him, "No, sir," she breathed.

"Then finish what you started, girl. I'm getting tired to this game."

She nodded as her fingers grasped the bottom of his sweat shirt, lifting it over his head as his arms slipped free. He took a step back and to the side, automatically tucking his left arm behind him a bit. He caught himself, closed his eyes and breathed through it. He could not ask her to open herself up to him if he were not willing to do the same. He opened his eyes and looked into hers. He wrapped his left arm about her waist, the stub resting against the small of her back as he drew her against him. His boxers was the only thing between them. Physically at least. 

His lips took hers. Crushing them, demanding her surrender, taking her submission deep into his soul, soothing pains he did not know even existed. He drank from her fountain of life for several long minutes. His right hand released its hold in her hair trailed down her arm and back up slowly. It brushed across her breast, then went back again, squeezing and kneading the firm globe until she was moaning into his mouth. His fingers pinched and twisted her nipple until he felt her jump. He swallowed her scream as his hand made its way up between their bodies. His fingers wrapped about her throat. This time the pressure he applied was real.

"Have you ever tried breath play?" he asked against her lips. He felt her shake her head from side-to-side. "You trusted me with your life. With Kelsey's. Before. Do you still?" He smiled as she nodded. "This is going to get a bit intense, baby. Just follow my lead. I want let anything happen to you," he promised as his lips covered hers once more.

He kissed her for several more minutes. Alternating between playful, tender and intense need. When she moaned once more into his mouth, he sucked the air from her lungs deep into his own. He tasted the very essence of her, held it inside of him, treasured it. His hand about her neck tightened, cutting off her airway. He felt her struggle in his arms. He drew back, looked in the depths of her frightened eyes. 

"Trust me, Debbie," he commanded, but it came out more of a plea even to his own ears. But the words achieved their goal as he felt her body relax against his. He drew a depth breath in and covered her mouth once more. His hand loosened its hold on her throat at the exact moment that he exhaled, sending life giving oxygen into his mate's lungs. She sucked in the air as she clung to him. He loved the feel of her helpless in his arms but he loved the feel of her nipples tightening against his bare chest even more. 

"Oh god," she sighed as she collapsed against him. 

He chuckled, "I keep telling you, I might be good but god I am not." He caressed the side of her face tenderly, "But one day soon, I wouldn't mind hearing you call me Master." She started to shake her head at his words, but his fingers covered her lips. "I haven't forgotten. You agreed to submit for one night. For me to Top you, but baby girl you can't stop me from dreaming," he smiled at her. "Was that too much? Too intense?" 

She shook her head and whispered, "No." Her fingers covered her lips for a moment as she looked at him, "More please."

He studied her, "You're sure? Breath play can be a bit intense at first."

She nodded, "Yes, I've never felt anything quite like that. It was almost as if," her voice trailed off and she dropped her eyes once more. 

He lifted her face back to his, "You know you have to be honest me. Even the best Dom can't know how far to push things if his sub doesn't communicate with him."

She nodded, "I know. It's just embarrassing."

He chuckled, "Embarrassing has no place in sex and especially not kinky sex. It's loud and messy. Embarrassing." His lips quirked up on one side, "And a hell of a lot of fun."

She giggled and the sound washed over him like a summer shower wiping everything away in its torrents. "That it is. Truth is that I almost came." She dropped her gaze again and this time he allowed her the retreat, for now. 

His hand caressed her arm as he drew her closer once more. When she finally looked back up, his lips covered hers again. He plunged his tongue deep inside her mouth, found her own and wrestled with it for several long moments. His hand found her throat once more. Her body leaned into his, offering up what he wanted most. 

He took it then. He sucked deep, drawing her air into his own body once more. His hand clasped her throat instinctually. As her power overwhelmed him. She fought again. Human survival instincts were strong and struggling in these situations was natural even in the most trusting of Master/slave relationships. 

But he was surprised at how quickly her mind took control of its primal urges as she quieted in his embrace almost immediately. He did not break the kiss this time, there was no need. His tongue and lips worshipped hers until he felt her almost collapse against him. He breathed deeply into her mouth as his hand loosened its hold, his fingers massaging her throat, encouraging it to swallow the life-sustaining gift deeply. 

She moaned as her body tightened, trembling in his arms. He could tell she was close again. Her fingers gripped at his shoulders, "Please," she begged against his lips. 

He stepped back, shaking his head. "Later, my angel. I promise," he watched her delectable lower lip curve outward in a pout. "Do you think you're a child like Kelsey? Think pouting will get you what you want? There's a word for that too, sweetheart. Brat. And if you are going to act like one then I will treat you like one. Seems to me I owe you twenty lashes already. Let's add another ten for that."




'Tis the Season



Vanessa remembered. She'd asked for one when she was 10 and cried about not getting it. A little moment from her childhood that filled her with a little embarrassment and that nobody knew of except for her.

"That's alright." She shook her head, acknowledging that it'd have been a ridiculous gift for a girl who lived in the heart of the city. "Wouldn't have really fit here anyway."

"No, no it wouldn't. But so many girls ask for one. Breaks my heart I can only give them to silly rich girls." He sighed. Vanessa crept a little closer, sitting down on the couch opposite the tree

"Still, I did alright by you over the years." He continued as he pulled what looked to be the last gift from his bag "That computer, the bike, that year you were into ballet and needed those silly shoes"

"Wait," Vanessa interjected as she remembered the presents he was listing off "Those were from my parents...weren't they?"

The look on the Old Man's face crinkled for a second before giving a patient smile.

"Sort of." He shrugged "They did come from my workshop but your parents did buy them technically...I'm the spirit of the season you see and I....let's just chalk it up to metaphysical mumbo-jumbo that even I barely understand after hundreds of years."

Vanessa nodded. Like everything else the timber and tone of his voice was enchanting, rich and full of bass. Just listening to it made Vanessa feel as though she was sipping a mug of cocoa. 

"So you're really Santa Claus?" Vanessa asked, a mix of awe and wonder in her voice, all traces of doubt gone.

"That is what they call me these days." He nodded as he got up from his knees, brushing pine needles from his legs as he straightened up to his impressive height "But Father Christmas, Odin, it all works."

Vanessa stood up as well, still staring up at him. She couldn't deny it, there was something intoxicating about his presence.

"So...can I get you anything?" She asked, realizing midway through her question that she was twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, like some drunk sorority girl, and stopping it quickly.

"You did used to leave me some pretty good milk and cookies if I recall correctly." Santa laughed. Vanessa did too, remembering baking all day on Christmas Eve's.

"I think I drank the last of the milk but...."

"Thank god" Santa exhaled, clearly relieved "I think I've eaten about 50 million cookies tonight and drank a million gallons of milk. I appreciate the gesture and everything but I really wish Madison Avenue would remember us spirits have many appetites. A nice steak, a stiff drink, a big cigar. Please, Vanessa, spread the word that Santa enjoys variety."

"Well, Santa," Vanessa felt silly about actually calling the stranger Santa but, well, her doubt was fading fast. "I don't think there are any cigars or steaks around unfortunately but I can definitely pour you a whiskey." 

Vanessa laughed as she walked towards the liquor cabinet. Santa nodded appreciatively as he sat back onto the couch. Not knowing much about it alcohol, Vanessa simply grabbed the bottle of scotch that looked the priciest along with a glass and poured it nearly to the brim. She returned to the couch and put the glass into Santa's massive hand. He gave her an appreciative nod and took a large sip.

"Ahhhh" He said after a quick swallow "That hits the spot."

"So....anything else? Like I said, no steak but if you're hungry..."

"Now that you mention it Vanessa, a blowjob would be phenomenal." Santa said as his thick fingers undid the latch on the black leather belt. Whatever spellbound state his presence had put Vanessa in, his request snapped her out of it.

"What?!" Vanessa couldn't believe it. There couldn't have been any more incongruity between his appearance and what he'd asked for. He looked like a kindly old grandfather.

"Oh dear, is that not right anymore?" Santa gave another look of exasperation "I can never keep up with what you folk call it. It used to be 'The French Way' or I believe the Romans called it Irrumare. Are any of those back in fashion?"

"I know what it is!" Vanessa snapped "But...I mean...you're Santa."

"Indeed I am." He replied, his voice as rich and affectionate as ever "Which is why I'm seizing this opportunity. Do you know how rare it is for me to happen upon a woman of appropriate age who can see me and who isn't simple-minded?"

"No..." Vanessa couldn't help it, his voice still made her feel warm and happy and she was losing herself in it again.

"70 years since the last one. And she was both homely and devoutly religious so that didn't go anywhere, I can tell you." He scratched his beard as he recounted the encounter, another laugh when he was done. "And then the rest of the year it's up at the pole with Mrs. Claus who, darling to me though she is, certainly isn't up for those things anymore. She's always telling me to get one of the female Elves to do it but while that may be a growing fad on your internet it certainly isn't an interest of mine, not to mention that I'm technically their employer so it'd be somewhat untowards and...."

"But, I mean..." Vanessa was still in a daze although, she had to admit, his story was resonating with her. She looked him over. He was very much what the pictures and drawings would have you believe. Sure he had a bit of a stomach but, well, he was simply large. And strong. And oddly commanding. Vanessa felt a little flush as the idea of actually doing it began washing over her.

"We spirits and faerie folk are lusty things after all and, I have to say, you are as lovely a creature as I've ever seen. I'm not very subtle, I'm afraid." He continued with a smile and tone just as genuine as he'd been the whole night "But there's no pressure Vanessa dear. If you don't want to I certainly would never impose..."

As he said this he began to buckle his belt again, an action that, to both his and Vanessa's surprise was stopped by her own hand. `Vanessa didn`t understand it completely herself even as she completely undid the belt. Part of it was his intoxicating presence, maybe, but for the most part his story had moved her. Here was a man/spirit/whatever who brought joy to untold billions and could never really get laid? That was terrible Besides, she thought as she began tugging at his red pants, I've certainly given head for dumber reasons. 

"This is definitely going to get me put on the naughty list, isn't it?" She said with a twinkle in her eye as she looked up at ol' Kris Kringle, her hands continuing to remove his garments.

"Ho, ho, ho. I'll be sure to put in a good word for you with the fellow who draws that up." He chuckled as her hands finally tugged got his pants over his hips, his enormous cock emerging, almost striking Vanessa in the face.

"Oh my." Vanessa said with both amazement and anticipation, a wide grin on her face. She'd expected...well, she didn't know what she'd expected. Something old man-like. But there was nothing old or soft about the enormous prick she was now face to face with. At least ten inches long with a girth that both thrilled and scared her to think about, large veins crossed the shaft before it flared into a big mushroom head. 

Vanessa leaned down and let her tongue dart out to run over the head that was already leaking some thin liquid. Vanessa was encouraged by it. He didn't taste sweaty or what you might assume from a large man in a wool suit. He didn't taste like anything she could associate with what she was doing. He tasted....good? Light? Vaguely minty? She couldn't describe it but the taste was so surprisingly good that before she knew it she was eagerly running her tongue along the underside of his shaft, lifting the cock and stroking it with her right hand. 

"Goodness Vanessa, you're certainly accomplished" Santa said warmly as he took another sip "The balls too, if you wouldn't mind."

Vanessa eagerly traveled further down along his cock and licked around the large, heavy sack she found, rolling each of the egg sized balls around her warm, wet tongue before sucking them into her mouth, both of her slender hands now jacking the monstrous cock off as she did so. She went from his balls back up the shaft, licking and sucking around the head for what seemed like ages before finally stretching her mouth wide to envelop the head of his cock. She began sucking, bobbing her head up and down with an eager ferocity. Coating the gigantic tube of rock hard meat in every drop of spit she had. Vanessa let her large brown eyes roam up, to see how Santa was reacting to his treat and he gave her back a look of sheer contentment.

"You are an absolutely fantastic cock-sucker." He expressed warmly, in a manner that made her want to please him more. Taking her hands from him, she began just bobbing her head down near the entire length of him, her ministrations now helped along by Santa's tight grip on her hair. Having guys grab her hair during head was something she usually found distracting but he certainly seemed to know what he was doing, guiding her mouth up and down every little ridge and vein on his impressive cock. 

"Good girl, heavens, I'm going to get there...." He nearly groaned as he began thrusting upwards into Vanessa's mouth, his thighs bucking even more of his cock into the reaches of the college student's throat. Vanessa thought for a second that she might gag but, somehow, she felt her throat relaxing to accommodate even this invasion. Aside from her mouth being stretched wide, there was almost no discomfort in the old man forcefully pounding her mouth with nearly every inch of his cock. 

"Yes, yes, oh goodness, yes" Exclaimed Santa as he gave his final with draw of his cock from the confines of her throat so that only his head was inside her oven hot mouth.The head of his cock roaring to life, expanding some and bursting forth in Vanessa's mouth. Powerful volley after powerful volley of thick semen bursting onto her tongue. Vanesssa at first recoiled from it, not being all that big a fan of swallowing the salty goo that boys tended to produce, but the second that first drop hit her tongue she knew that Santa was very different in this respect as well.

First was the amount, just a constant, thick stream. As she felt it hit the back of her throat she had vague memories of her first college party, where a friend had gotten her to try a beer bong. Vanessa was briefly grateful for the experience as she swallowed his offering. As impressive as the size of his load though, it was still secondary to the taste. The taste was...

She couldn't really describe the taste. Like Creme de Menthe mixed with some herbal liqueur only with no trace of alcohol and thickened with whipped cream. As Vanessa tried to figure out the taste in her mind, she was near oblivious to the fact that she had clamped her lips down fiercely on the end of his still firing weapon and was voraciously drinking it. It was near twenty seconds into his spurting, during which the old Spirit had simply bucked and moaned in delight, that it stopped and, to Vanessa's surprise she felt tragically disappointed. Despite the impressive volume, she'd wanted more. She even reached out to give his balls a gentle coaxing squeeze in desperation as the roar in her mouth quieted to a dribble. 

"By the stars, you delicious Vixen" Santa laughed as he began coming down from his orgasm "That not enough for you?"

"It's just, mmmm," Vanessa responded as she took her head from his cock, pushing the few drops of his discharge that'd leaked onto her chin back into her mouth. "The best thing I've ever tasted. Like some minty, herbal....thing."

The jolly old Elf reached to his side and grabbed the still half-full glass of whiskey she'd poured for him, finishing it in one final swallow.

"I'm glad you enjoyed, dear." He chuckled as his hands reached down to his pants, "I really can't thank you enough for that. Highlight of my century."

Vanessa looked at him buckling up and became distressed. She couldn't help but notice that she was feeling unbearably hot. Even scantily clad on a cold winter's night. Being in the presence of Santa had made her feel warmer, like being in a room with a crackling fire. Now whatever it was in her stomach made her feel as though the crackling fire had taken up residence alongside it. She could feel her own arousal, as fierce and pronounced as she'd ever felt it.

"You're leaving?" She asked, half in shock and half in desperation, the heat causing her to discard her robe, leaving her just in her skimpy shorts and tanktop, her small nipples feeling hard as diamonds and poking through the thin material. The question looked as though it caught him by surprise.

"Well, I don't have to, certainly." He relaxed back in his seat "I'd certainly be willing to return the favour...."

"I need you to fuck me" Vanessa blurted out. Something she'd never thought she'd say, either because of the coarseness of the statement or it's directness. But that's what she needed. His cock. Inside her. At this very second.

"Love to, you saucy minx" Santa let his pants drop back down and his still stiff cock bobbed up invitingly. The sight of it practically caused Vanessa's mouth to water and for a second she thought about dropping to her knees and servicing it again. "Your bedroom perhaps? Or the guest room downstairs? Or...."

But his sentence didn't finish. Vanessa had practically leaped on him, straddling his thighs and rubbing herself against his massive length. She seemed in such a frenzy that she hadn't even undressed, so lust crazed and cock hungry that she'd forgotten about the obstacles that her undergarments caused. Santa was of a slightly cooler head however and knew what needed to be done, his large thick fingers managed to slip under the waistband of her shorts at her hips and, with one swift motion of seemingly inhuman strength, tore them from her. Vanessa was in such a state of heightened arousal that even the brief rush of cool air hitting her sex made her groan. Still, she was focused on her task and she quickly had the shaft of his cock in her hand, pointing the spear right at the opening to her dripping pussy.

"Thank fucking christ!" Vanessa loudly exclaimed as she sank down on him, the huge head of his cock spreading her wide on entry, causing a sense of friction and fullness that brought the exclamation from her. Santa groaned along with her. As good as her mouth had felt this was something else altogether. Wetter than a rainstorm, hotter than an oven and tighter than new leather, Vanessa's pussy felt like pure heaven to him.

Vanessa wasted no time in using her own strength to sink down on him and then bring herself up, her hips rotating with speed and strength as she worked the length inside her. The girth of Santa's cock was unlike any sexual experience she'd had, each little vein on his shaft felt as though it had to find and rub against a part of her that had never been touched before while the head's thickness provided exquisite sensation on her clit with every plunge. She'd said that she needed him to fuck her but there was no doubt about who the driving force was as this odd pairing coupled with such intensity. Vanessa was slam-fucking herself, stuffing her blazing insides with the hot, hard shaft with little to no help from him. 

Santa,meanwhile, was enjoying something that he'd wanted to do ever since he'd first caught glimpse of Vanessa an hour or so before. He'd pulled her small tank top of hers just up and over her breasts and while he'd at first been simply happy with watching how Vanessa's ministrations made her large, full breasts bounce he knew he wanted more. They really were quite exquisite. A perfect teardrop shape of impressive size for a woman of her smaller frame and stature but with all of the firmness and perk that her youth would allow. Capped with small nipples only a shade or two lighter than the same tan colour of her skin they were, Santa had to admit, as fine a pair as he'd seen in his long time on this Earth. He certainly wouldn't pass up on opportunity like this, always being a fan of women's breasts, and so he pushed them together as he brought his head down to her chest, his tongue licking each areola before sucking one of her nipples into her mouth.

Vanessa gasped. She was so focused on her constant bouncing that she hadn't even noticed what he was doing until she felt her nipples sucked into his warm mouth. She'd never been with a man with a beard before and the feeling was odd, although certainly not unpleasant. His hair was smooth as silk and when it passed over her it was almost like being tickled. It was a delirious sensation for the girl who'd always liked having her breasts played with during sex. A little tickle, then the suck, then maybe a lick, then a bite. She never knew what would be coming next.

It was an odd scene, to be sure, if someone had come round the Thomas house that morning and looked into the window they'd have seen a beautiful, slim, teenage brunette frantically fucking herself on the massive cock of the heavy-set, silver maned avuncular grandfather looking fellow who was hungrily feasting on the girl's prodigious breasts. Not much by way of dialog to explain the odd pairing either. The girl was groaning, occasionally muttering an obscenity, punctuated by louder groans and faster riding of his cock while her hand was in her own hair a look of utter, unspeakable delight on her face. The man sucking and licking, occasionally reaching down to squeeze at her firm ass or give it a playful slap. 

Imaginary onlookers be damned, Vanessa was lost in her pleasure. His thick shaft kept rubbing her clit with every thrust, stretching her wide and plunging so unimaginably deep, his mouth was expertly administering to her tits, his occasional little slaps to her ass, and the deliciously naughty thrill coming from fucking an older man in her parent's house, and it being Santa no less, were some of the cavalcade of thrills and pleasures she was getting. It was no wonder that when her orgasm hit her, she couldn't even tell where it was coming from. Her clit or deep inside her cunt or her brain or all at once, she didn't know.

"Oh fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Vanessa yelled as it seemed like her whole body exploded. Like the furnace inside her simply exploded, setting fire to her every nerve ending from her fingers to her toes. She contracted, spasmed, felt her surge of cum gush from her and simply whimpered. She tried riding it out but it was as though her brain was no longer listening to her, Santa's small bucking of his hips the only movement inside her. She buried her head in his shoulder and continued whimpering as her rush subsided. 

"Well that, certainly, was the best house I've visited tonight." Santa laughed as he kept giving little thrusts into the whimpering, moaning girl. Vanessa simply sat there amazed. That she'd just had what felt like an A-bomb of an orgasm, sure, but also that she knew, that she could already feel, that the burning she'd felt hadn't gone away. Still there. Sated a bit, maybe, but still there. She'd have started bucking on him again if it didn't feel as though someone had replaced her legs with jello. She simply took her head from his shoulder and looked up at his smiling, rosy face pleadingly and said one word

"More." 

Santa bellowed again in appreciative laughter.

"Ho, ho, ho" He chuckled as he withdrew himself from her. He was more than amenable to the request and even understood her situation. Vanessa gave a slight pouting noise when she felt him slide from her but it soon turned to an appreciative coo as he positioned her as he wanted her. Her hands bracing her weight on one of the couch's armrests, her back arched so as to offer herself to him as he spread her legs and positioned himself between them. Vanessa greatly enjoyed being taken from behind.




'Tis the Season



Grabbing onto her hips, Santa pulled her onto him, enveloping his cock in the same hot wet sheath. Whatever his cock had felt like as she rode it, from this angle it was an entirely different story. Every little bit of his cock seemed designed to make her scream with delight as it stuffed her. 

"Oh yes." Vanessa breathlessly moaned in appreciation as she felt him begin to plunge, thrust. He was forceful, powerful, and nimble. Pounding her with relentless intensity, every thrust seemingly coming from a different, exquisite angle. Every withdrawl leaving just the head of his cock inside before slamming back in, discovering new depths.

"Please, please, yes, oh oh OH!" Vanessa came quickly, this time. While her first orgasm had seemed like a bomb going off this was like a dam breaking. Forceful pounds of pressure until she simply couldn't contain it and she gave into the pleasure he was delivering to her. Her squeezing, clamping down on him didn't stop him and just as she felt her rushing, forceful cum subside there was another. 

"Another, another oh fuck, oh ffff..." She cried as another wave hit her. Relishing it briefly before entreating him to continue "More, please, oh god more."

Santa obliged. His fist was again gripping her hair, pulling her back onto him as he thrust and he didn't stop or slow down all throughout. For near 20 minutes he continued, riding her to climax after climax, each one punctuated by her request for more and for them to be delivered harder and faster, requests he was able to fulfill, jack hammering into her, causing her large, heavy breasts to buck wildly with each thrust. Neither of them bothered to count the number of times that Vanessa squeezed and gushed and squealed in delight and they were still at it as the sun began to rise.

"More, fuck, please, one more, oh god...." Vanessa moaned as she felt yet another climax coming. Santa felt his own as well and he increased his speed, pulling her back onto him so as she was almost kneeling up, with his cock driving into her from below.

"Here it comes, oh my..." He roared as he came, his cock expelling as much and as forcefully as he did when he'd first finished in her mouth. Vanessa did as well but this one was different, his seed spurting inside her felt cooling, like it was extinguishing the burning she felt. Like her entire body was being dipped in peppermint. She tried to scream but nothing came from her lips, just a small squeal of satisfaction. 

"I....oh....my" Vanessa didn't have the words when her breath returned to her. The fire had been put out but in it's absence was absolute and complete exhaustion. Like she hadn't slept in a week and it was all catching up to her at once. She slumped forward as Santa gently lowered her onto the couch. She was asleep before her head touched the soft plush of the couch.

4.

"Rise and shine sleepyhead"

"mmmmm" Vanessa moaned, deep and contented. She'd been having the most delicious dream.

"C'mon lazybones." Her mother continued, giving her a little shake "We've let you sleep in long enough. It's Christmas!"

Vanessa bolted upright in embarassment. She was naked and probably covered in.....wait. Vanessa realized she was wearing her robe. And under a blanket. And seemingly clean. As her mother left the room, Vanessa looked down under the blankets. For a moment she thought that she'd simply dreamed the whole thing but, no, she was naked beneath her robe. And the bulge in it's pocket were revealed to be her torn panties. Vanessa sat there dumbfounded. She could barely even begin to get a handle on what had happened. Santa was real? And she blew him? And he'd fucked her brains out? Even for a girl as open-minded as she was, it was a lot to get a handle on. 

"Boy, how they grow up, huh?" Roy walked into the room with a grin "Used to be you'd wake us up at 6 in the morning today and beg for your presents. Now we have to wake you up at noon."

"Oh, Roy, be nice." Her mother gently chided "They have her working her tail off at that school"

"Um, yeah, exactly." Vanessa said in a bit of a haze. To her surprise she had none of her usual gross feeling in the mornings. In fact, as she checked, her breath was minty fresh. She could still even sort of taste that minty, sweet.....

"Well, either way, want to open presents?" Her father asked "You can get them from the tree for all of us like you used to."

"Sure I....No!" Vanessa exclaimed as she remembered she was naked beneath her skimpy robe. "I mean, let me go get in my pyjamas at least."

Her parents agreed and Vanessa quickly went to her room, clutching at her robe as she did. She walked into her bathroom and looked at herself for a minute. She looked a little ragged, a little worn out and she felt only a little sore. But any illusions that she may have had that it was a dream were gone. There were the faintest hints of teeth marks around her breasts and the ass he'd slapped was still red. Vanessa thought back on it now completely and smiled to herself. It had been phenomenal. The best sex of her life. Didn't regret a bit of it, even if she couldn't explain it. Thinking about it had made her want to...

But no. Not now. It was Christmas. Vanessa put her dirty thoughts aside and got dressed. She hopped downstairs and began doling out the presents. Everyone had got what they wanted. Her mother gave her father new golf clubs, her father got her mother a new bolt-action hunting rifle, Vanessa had known about these presents beforehand and gave accessories, golf shoes to her father and bullets to her mother and they were very well received. Vanessa was delighted to find a Ipad from her mother and a envelope from her father promising to pay for a trip to Europe in the summer. There were smaller gifts of candy and dvd's and such. Very much the idyllic family Christmas that Vanessa had been hoping for.

"That was great you guys," Vanessa said with genuine affection as the last of the gifts under the tree was unwrapped. Vanessa caught her parents giving each other conspiratorial smiles as they sipped their coffee.

"It was, dear, but we have a surprise." Kathleen said cloyingly

"It's not finished, Pumpkin" Roy agreed "You got our presents but I think Santa gave you a couple somethings too."

For a second Vanessa's eyes went wide. 

"Um, wha...."

"Take a look" Her father gestured to the fireplace. Sure enough there was the old stocking she used to hang up that her parents would fill with candy. Vanessa tentatively approached it, a million thoughts running through her head and reached inside. There was a small gift box inside. When she finally got the bow off she opened it up with great haste. Inside was a small snowglobe with a plastic base. There was a little Santa inside, in front of a little workshop and it read "Happy Holidays". She laughed. A corny little joke of her father's, she guessed.

"Thanks?" She said, cocking an eyebrow at the two of them who continued to share little knowing looks at each other.

"I think, dear, you may want to look at the bottom" Kathleen gestured to the snow globe, barely able to contain her excitement. So Vanessa did, turning it over quickly. Taped to the bottom of the plastic base of the globe was a key. With a Porsche logo on it. Vanessa felt dizzy for a second when she saw it but quickly found her footing.

"No way!" Vanessa gleefully exclaimed. Her parents looked at each other with broad grins.

"Take a look" Her father gestured towards the window. Vanessa bound over to it and, sure enough, there was a gleaming, black Porsche in their driveway with a bright red bow on it. 

"But how can you afford..."

"Funniest thing there, you remember I was telling you about that divorce I was handling for Mrs. James? Well, she really wanted to burn her ex I suppose and so she went after hard after that thing. Said he loved it more than her or something silly like that. So she got it in the settlement, which burned him to no end let me tell you, and we got to talking casually about how you were bugging me for a car all the time and you know what the crazy broad does?"

"Broad, Roy?" Kathleen interjected, her father rolled his eyes but continued. Vanessa just kept her eyes glued to the car through the window.

"Do you know what the fully independent and actualized woman with the legitimate grievance against the male patriarchy does? She offers to sell me that car, that her husband loved, that I had to fight tooth and nail with her husband's pitbull of a lawyer for months to get, for a dollar. Not even for a break on my fee. Just to really tighten the screws, I guess."

"Oh don't be so cynical Roy." Her mother said with a shake of her head "Maybe it was just the spirit of the season that got to her."

Vanessa was briefly roused from her admiration of her new, sleek sportscar to have a little smile.

"Well, you may have been watching different commercials than I have, hon, because I never heard that the Spirit of the Season included sticking it to..."

But this too was cut off by a shrieking Vanessa, bounding across the room and leaping into her father's arms.

"Iloveitdaddyohthankyouthankyouthankyou!" she exclaimed in a blur. Her father embraced her.

"Well, you should really thank Mrs. James. Or Mr. James. Or the secretary of his that started this whole mess." Her father laughed

"You really should thank Mrs. James, Vanessa" Her mother interjected, "We'll drive over there tonight"

Vanessa nodded. Drive over there. In her new Porsche. 

5.

Christmas and New Year's came and went, another lovely Holiday season passing. Vanessa had thanked Mrs. James for her new car and had agreed when Mrs. James had said that her one condition on the sale was that if Vanessa ever happened to see Mr. James crossing the street to lean heavily on the accelerator(Vanessa was 90% sure it had been a joke) but was back at school now. Back in her dorm room. Back with her roommate. Balancing classes and the lousy winter and wishing she'd applied to the University of Hawaii.

And worst of all? She was horny again. Even worse than before. And with the weird perversion of the image and thought of Santa Claus being what made her so. Sure most of the decorations had come down now so there wasn't a constant reminder of it but Vanessa had brought that snow globe with her. It was on one of her bookshelves. Even though it did add a little to her frustration it mainly was a reminder of getting the car. Her beautiful, beautiful car. 

So when her roommate had gone out for the evening, to some silly party, Vanessa paced about her room. She hated it. She couldn't masturbate, she had no interest in anyone other than a mythological old mystical being and, if she was lucky, she'd get to have another good fuck 355 days from now. She felt like screaming in frustration. Instead she simply reached over on her bookshelf to the snowglobe picked it up and smiled warmly. 

355 days isn't so bad, she sarcastically thought as she glumly looked at the little Santa and his work shop.

Vanessa gave the globe a shake. The snow kicked up and, again, she felt a weird dizziness. It settled down. She shook again, harder. More dizziness. She'd thought it had been her shock from the car but, no, there was something else to this. She shook, continuously and soon she realized it wasn't her head spinning, it was the room. There was the sensation of travel beneath her feet as she kept shaking the globe but it was subtle, like the spinning room was gradually changing. Eventually the spinning slowed despite her constant shaking, slowed and then stopped. The whole experience must have taken no more than 20 seconds. When Vanessa finally looked around her, she certainly wasn't in her dorm room. It looked like a mix between a ski cabin and a carpenter's shed. Vanessa was entirely confused at what had happened. That is, of course, until she looked up and saw in the corner, at an old workbench the same jolly old elf who'd so rocked her world a short while before working away at something she couldn't quite make out.

"Took you long enough to figure that one." Santa said with a chuckle as he put down what he was doing "Enjoy your Christmas, dear?"

"Mmmmhmmm." She purred, already feeling that now familiar warmth of his magic presence.

"I'm glad." Santa beamed warmly as he leaned back in his chair, his hands undoing his belt. "Shame about Mr. James and all but he was never very Christmas-y."

Vanessa walked towards him, eyes locked on his, her hips swaying exaggeratedly as she began to sing, her smoky voice recalling one of the sillier, although now fairly apt, Christmas songs she knew.

"Santa Baby, just slip a sable under the tree...for me" Vanessa's hands slowly began undoing the buttons of her blouse as she sang, the black lace of her bra peeking through.

"I've been an awful good girl..."

The End