Storiesonline.net ------- Christmas Gift by Eon Copyright© 2005 by Eon ------- Description: On her way home, Ciara leaves money for a strange old woman playing a guitar on the street. After a break-up with his girlfriend, Kris runs into thugs mugging an old lady in an alley, and is stabbed when he tries to run them off. Ciara doesn't know that the kitten left to her by a strange old woman, the one she decides to name Kris, is much more than a cat. But when she gets home from work one night, she's in for quite a surprise. Codes: MF rom 1st cons mag oral pett ------- Snowflakes swirled in a riotous maelstrom that swept through everything in its path, bringing with it a biting cold. Ciara Burton huddled in her fleece lined parka, barely able to see between the scarf covering half her face and the snowflakes splattered on her glasses. Brown muck, dirt mixed into snow, sloshed wetly beneath her boots as she trudged hurriedly towards the subway entrance, struggling beneath the weight of her backpack and portfolio. Ciara muttered curses beneath her breath, reaching up to wipe her glasses clean before she attempted the stairs down into the subway. It was warmer down there, but not by all that much. She slid her T card and slipped through the turnstile, getting stuck on her way. The strap of her backpack had gotten caught on the turnstile, and Ciara fought and struggled with it to get it free. By the time she'd managed, the train she needed to catch had come and gone. I hate my life, she thought, dropping down a cold metal bench to wait for the next train to come through. Much to her frustration, her glasses began to fog up as she sat there, breathing into her scarf. This would be her second Christmas in New York, far away from her family, who would be home in warm, sunny California. She would have gone to see them, but she didn't have the extra money. Even with the housing in SoHo provided by the Institute of Art, she still needed money for things like food and clothes. Ciara attended school more than she worked, and only made enough money to scrape by. She would miss seeing her family this year; her Christmas would be spent alone and lonely. Ciara was not very social. She mostly kept quiet in classes, and although she got along with some of her classmates, she never hung out with them. Growing up, she'd had both her thick glasses and braces, and had been teased constantly. Now the braces were gone, but she still had the glasses, and she was too frightened to talk to anyone. She knew it was ridiculous but all the same, it wasn't an easy thing to overcome. A rattling and roaring indicated a train on the way. Ciara stood up, joining the crowd of people waiting. She never looked forward to stuffing herself onto the subway and today was no exception. Although she was weighted down with baggage, no one gave her the courtesy of a seat. Plenty of them had nothing to carry and could have stood, but instead Ciara found herself clutching tightly to the pole above her head. Every time the train pulled to a stop she swayed and nearly fell over. It was, fortunately, a fairly short commute to her apartment, so she was only on the train about fifteen minutes. Feeling suffocated, tired, and irritated she clambered from the train and up the stairs to the sidewalk. People jostled her and she couldn't draw an easy breath until she was out of the subway station. Back on the sidewalk, Ciara was once more assaulted by snowflakes. She heard music playing somewhere nearby, and swiped the snow from her glasses to look. Huddled beneath the overhang of a shop entrance, an old woman pluck away at a rickety old acoustic guitar. How she could even play, with the cold weather and her gnarled, aged hands was beyond Ciara, but the music was pretty nonetheless. The guitar's case sat opened beside the old woman, but only a few coins sat in the bottom of it. The old woman looked up as she approached, her faded blue eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled. Ciara stood for a few minutes listening. Cold nipped at her cheeks where it could slide in beneath the scarf but she continued to listen until it became unbearable. She retrieved her wallet from her backpack and pulled two twenties from it. It was money she'd been given by her family for Christmas. Ciara bent down and dropped the bills into the guitar case, then straightened and smiled at the old woman. "Merry Christmas to you," Ciara said. The old woman didn't speak, but she smiled broadly, revealing a mouth of broken and missing teeth. Ciara turned back to the street, preparing to find an opening to scramble across. A car screeched to a halt just in front of her, just in time to avoid slamming into the car in front of it. Cold, wet slush sprayed up from a puddle in the street, drenching Ciara from head to toe. Unbidden, tears began to run down her cheeks. She reached up, wiping the muck away from her glasses. "I hate my life," Ciara muttered, as she started across the street. ------- The old woman looked up, watching the young woman as she made her way across the street. The wind was tugging violently, and the young woman's coppery brown hair was blown around her face, making it harder for her to see. The old woman sighed and reached into the guitar case, lifting out the two twenties that had been left there. There were a few quarters from passer-by, several dimes and a penny, but no one had left this much before. A faint mewing from nearby made the old woman look over. A scraggly black cat stood in the mouth of the alley next to the shop, blinking at her. She smiled, holding a withered hand out to the shivering creature. Its gray-green eyes watched her warily as it approached. She waited until it was near, then snatched it up and dragged it near. It was skin and bones, and the old woman had no trouble holding it up. "Now, now, don't fuss," the old woman croaked. "I know you're cold and hungry, but the Fates have begun to weave their tapestry... soon you will no longer need to worry about cold or hunger..." She lowered the cat into her lap and began roughly stroking its back. Faint golden light trickled around her shriveled fingertips, but no one passing by seemed to notice. The cat, however, stopped struggling and settled down in her lap, purring softly. The old woman stared across the street, a faint smile playing around her chapped lips. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Ciara Burton." ------- "It's over, Kris." The words still echoed in his ears, even though Jenna had left the café hours ago. Kris Jacobs stared morosely out at the street, feeling as though his life had ended. Six years. Six years he'd been with Jenna, two of them engaged, and now suddenly it was over. He pushed his dark hair out of his eyes with callous-roughened fingers and sighed. She's been so distant lately, Kris thought. I knew something was going on, but... But what? Some part of him had known, he was sure of it. He hadn't eaten very well in the past month and he'd lost weight. Across the street a car screeched to an abrupt halt. Muddy water splashed over a woman standing at the sidewalk, drenching her from head to toe. She made her way across the street and for some reason he couldn't keep his eyes off her. Small, delicate fingers pulled glasses from her face and wiped them clean of gunk. Sorrowful green eyes flickered momentarily over the café window, but she didn't look at him. Kris watched her until she disappeared from his view. Maybe it's my fault, he thought, frowning. If my eyes are already wandering... But he'd never been unfaithful to Jenna. No other woman ever held any interest for him. Why that strange woman should have any attraction to him was a mystery. Except... except that she looked so lonely, as lonely as he felt. No use dwelling on it, Kris thought, finally pushing himself up from the table where he'd been sitting for hours. The day was a cold one, and he was glad for the thick coat he was wearing. Wool lined the inside of it, keeping him cozy. At least I don't live too far from here, he thought, ducking his head as he dodged across the street. Muddy slush splattered beneath his boots, soaking the legs of his jeans. Kris ignored it all as he trudged down the sidewalk, trying to keep his mind off of Jenna. His feet knew the way home, so he needn't worry about getting lost, even though he wasn't paying attention. Maybe he ought to go home for the holidays. Kris hadn't seen his family in awhile. I should visit them, he thought, frowning to himself. They're paying for me to go to school, after all. Not that it would diminish them any to do that. His family was rich, his father the owner and CEO of a luxurious hotel in New York City. Kris went to school for business, for the day he would inherit his father's empire. He wondered perhaps if the money he had had been all that had kept Jenna with him for so long. Dark slowly fell. Kris turned down into a long alley that he always cut through to get home. He was halfway down it when noise caught his attention; hushed voices, one threatening and the other pleading. Lifting his head, he squinted through the dark, seeing two tall figures and one small, huddled one. "Just give us the money, lady," drawled a thick, lazy voice. "Please," a querulous old voice pleaded. "It's all I have..." "Give it over!" came another voice, this one forceful but high with nerves. Kris' life was over anyway; he might as well save someone else's. He sprinted forward through the dark, old puddles splashing beneath his feet. In seconds he came upon two men and an old women who huddled on the ground, clutching a guitar case in one hand and a scraggly black cat under the other arm. The men looked up as he approached. One was scrawny, with a narrow face and beady eyes. The other was thicker set, with a bulbous nose that looked like it had been broken several times and a weak chin. "Get out of here," the skinny one growled in his high pitched, nervous voice. "Leave her alone!" Kris shot back. "She's just an old woman." Something glinted in the dim light filtering into the alley. The skinny one had a knife. The next moments passed in an incoherent blur for Kris. He lunged forward, determined to get the knife away from the man. He was stronger than Skinny, but the other man was big. As Kris closed his hand around Skinny's wrist, Big hit him from behind, sending him staggering forward. White hot pain lanced through his belly. Skinny, who was little more than a kid, stared at him in horror. Kris groaned softly as the knife was pulled from his belly and sank down to his knees. "Shit!" Skinny squeaked fearfully. "Oh shit, oh shit!" "Calm down!" Big growled. "I stabbed him, man, I stabbed him!" Skinny babbled, backing away, the knife falling from his shaking fingers. "Oh shit!" Skinny turned tail and raced away down the alley, and Big followed, grumbling the whole way. Kris tumbled onto his back, ending up in a very cold pillow. He clutched a hand over the wound in his stomach, feeling blood seep through his fingers. The old woman staggered out of the shadows and gazed down at him, her pale blue eyes oddly bright in the darkness. "I guess..." Kris muttered, finding it hard to breathe. "That... no good deed... goes unpunished..." "Worry not," the old woman said, putting the cat down on his chest. "For this you will be repaid." The cat made it harder for him to breathe, but he did not have the strength to push it away. It stared at him. The edges of Kris' vision darkened, and he figured he must have been hallucinating, because he could see golden light glowing around the old woman's gnarled fingers. The darkness slowly crept up to consuming, heralded by a querulous old voice. "Merry Christmas, Kris Jacobs..." ------- Seven days until Christmas. Ciara scowled at her calendar, then flopped back onto the pile of mattresses that served as her bed. Her blankets and sheets were a tangled mess, but she didn't bother to straighten them. She just grabbed a quilt and pulled it over herself, curling up into it as though it were a cocoon. Ciara pulled the blanket up over her head and squeezed her eyes shut, determined to shut out the world. She was sleeping, rather peacefully, when she heard a knock on her apartment door. Waking up abruptly, she glanced at the clock on the box that served as her bedside table. It's midnight, Ciara thought, sitting up and shoving her blankets aside. Who the hell could be here at this hour? She grabbed a robe from where it was strewn across the papasan chair in the corner of her apartment and pulled it on, then went to answer the door. An old woman stood outside her door, holding a box beneath her arm. It took Ciara a long moment to realize that this was the old woman who she had given money to earlier. The old woman flashed a gap-toothed smile at her, then shoved the box into her arms, nearly knocking her over. "Whoa!" Ciara exclaimed, leaning heavily against the doorframe. "What is this?" The old woman cackled, but Ciara couldn't see her above the top of the box. She could only hear her croaky voice as she spoke. "At midnight, seven days hence, a kindness shall be repaid." "What is that supposed to mean?" Ciara demanded, shifting the box so she could rest it against her hip. She blinked. The old woman was gone. Not limping away down the hall or even heading into the stairwell. She was just gone. How odd, Ciara thought, backing into her apartment. She nudged the door shut with her foot, then set the box down. It wasn't very heavy. She opened it cautiously, and a small, furry head poked up between the flaps of the box, followed by a soft mew. "A cat?" Ciara stared at it. It was a scraggly black alley cat with odd, gray-green eyes. She suspected it was actually full grown, but it was so thin that it seemed barely more than a kitten. Oddly, though it was obviously not a housecat, it leapt out of the box and twined itself around her legs, purring loudly. Ciara frowned. What am I supposed to do with a cat? she wondered. "Crazy old lady," Ciara muttered, as she made her way to the tiny kitchen. "Well, I suppose no one wants to be outside in this weather, especially not at night." She half-turned to see if the cat was following her and nearly tripped over it. The cat sat down in front of her and mew plaintively. Ciara turned to the fridge and opened it, peering at the scant contents. She grabbed a half-gallon jug of whole milk and a dish, pouring some milk into it. This she set down on the floor, and the cat immediately began to lap it up. It needs solid food, though, Ciara thought, as she rummaged through her cabinet. She found a can of tuna, which would have to do until tomorrow, when she could get out and get some cat food. "Here you go," Ciara said, setting the tuna down for the cat. "Hang on a sec, let's see..." The cat yowled indignantly as she pulled it into her lap and turned it over. She lifted its tail and found that it was actually a he. Satisfied, Ciara set him down again and stood, to allow him to eat. She wandered into the bathroom and grabbed a hairbrush, running it through her tangled mass of hair. Pausing, she inspected herself in the mirror. She could see without her glasses, but she could not read, and things grew blurry if they were too far away. Without her glasses, though, Ciara's eyes, bright green and almond shaped with thick, long lashes could clearly be seen. She had high cheekbones, which she thought made her look rather severe, and her skin was milky pale. Sighing, Ciara ran her fingers through her long, coppery brown hair, then turned to head back to the kitchen. "What do you think, kitty?" Ciara asked. "Am I just not pretty?" The cat, which had finished his food already, stood up and twined around her legs again. Ciara smiled and picked him up, cuddling him to her chest. He began to purr loudly, snuggling his head between her breasts. She laughed softly and carried him over to her bed, scratching between his ears. "Just like a man," Ciara joked, laying back on the bed. "All about the breasts." The cat mewed. "Yeah, I know, I know, bad joke," Ciara sighed. "Well, we need to give you a name... of course, that doesn't mean I'm gonna be able to keep you... but I can't call you 'cat'. Let me think... hmm..." She closed her eyes, sighing softly. The cat continued to purr loudly and she could feel the rumbling through her chest. Ciara ran her hand lazily along the cat's back, surprised at how friendly he was. Homeless cats in New York tended to become feral pretty quickly, and this one was not a baby. She couldn't imagine what made him so friend. Maybe he'd belonged to that old woman? "She said... midnight seven days hence," Ciara mused aloud. "Christmas Eve... should I call you Chris?" The cat mew and she opened her eyes. He looked at her, and if he could speak, she had a feeling he would say, "That's not at all original." "I know," Ciara agreed. "Well, it'll be Kris... like the weapon. You can be my attack cat and protect the apartment." The cat seemed to approve of that name, so Ciara grinned. "That settles it, then," she said. The newly dubbed Kris meowed and snuggled up against her neck, still purring. I'm glad I don't have anything valuable in this place, she thought, rolling her eyes. Ciara grabbed the quilt she'd been using and pulled it back over her, rolling onto her side to accommodate the cat. Kris licked her neck, just below her earlobe, once, and she smiled, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. ------- And so the next day Ciara went to school, then work, then stopped at a store on her way home. She bought a few things she herself was needing, like milk, eggs, bread, and cereal, and some cans of cat food. She added a box of dry food, a package of Whiskers cat treats, a litter box, and a bag of cat litter to her cart, as well. It was at this point that Ciara realized that she intended to keep Kris. And so she grabbed a little cat nip mouse toy for him, too. Ciara and Kris became fast friends. She got used to his presence quickly. He slept curled up on her pillow next to her ear at night. In the morning he followed her into the kitchen and ate breakfast while she did. To her surprise, he stayed in the bathroom with her while she showered, perched on the toilet. Kris would follow her around until she left for school, and he'd be waiting at the door when she got home. From there he would stay by her side while she did her homework and ate dinner, he'd sit in the bathroom while she brushed her teeth, and he'd curl up once more on her pillow when it was bed time. Every night before they fell asleep, Kris would give her a small lick on her neck, just beneath her earlobe. The first time she didn't have work or school, which came on the fourth day that Kris was with her, they spent most of the day in bed together, watching TV. Ciara ate a pint of Ben and Jerry's chocolate fudge brownie ice cream, allowing herself the treat because she normally ate so healthily. She allowed Kris to lick melted ice cream from the pint cover and from her spoon when she was finished with it. In the middle of the day she went out briefly, making a trip to the movie store, and stopping on her way back to pick up some Chinese food from her favorite place. Kris was waiting eagerly for her when she came back. She shared her beef lo mein with him while they watched Shrek 2. "You should learn to use a sword like Puss N' Boots," Ciara said at one point, dissolving into giggles. Kris just blinked at her disdainfully. Later at night Ciara put on a horror film and curled up underneath the blankets. She clung to Kris throughout the whole thing, squeezing him every time she jumped. The cat put up with it with admirable tolerance, especially for a cat, and didn't once try to get away. In the middle of the night, when Ciara couldn't sleep because the movie had made her jump, Kris sat on her pillow, purring loudly and licking her fingers. The steady motion of his rough tongue over her skin made her drift off to sleep, feeling oddly safe in his presence. ------- It was the day before Christmas Eve. Ciara was in a foul mood; her boss had insisted she work on Christmas Eve. This really shouldn't have been such a big problem, really, because it was not as if she had any family to be with. Except for Kris, she thought, a smile touching her lips despite her mood. She struggled under the weight of grocery bags with food for both her and the cat. Canned food was heavy, for one thing. Plus, Ciara had picked up another thing of litter, since the first one she'd gotten had been small. "Damn," Ciara muttered, trying to get her key into the door of the apartment building without dropping her bags. "Need some help?" Startled, she whirled around, dropping her keys and nearly dropping her grocery bags as well. The man standing behind her was tall and lean, with short brown hair cropped closed to his head and pale blue eyes. Ciara supposed he might have been handsome, but something about him made her feel uneasy. He also looked familiar, and when he pulled out his own keys she realized he must also live in the building. "Thanks," Ciara said quietly, stooping to retrieve her keys. "Not a problem," the man said, grinning. "I'm Toby, by the way. I live here, too." "Are you a student?" Ciara asked, biting back a snarl as Toby took the grocery bags from her. "Not anymore," Toby replied, shaking his head. "Which is why I gotta move soon. It's too bad, really. I didn't realize someone as lovely as you lived here." Ciara rolled her eyes, but kept her mouth shut. Men like Toby made her realize why she loved her cat so much. She followed him up the stairs, itching to grab her bags back from him, but she didn't want to be rude. Just because he was slimy didn't mean she had to be a bitch. He better not think I'm going to invite him in, Ciara thought, glancing at him as she inserted her key into the lock. "Thanks for your help," Ciara said, reaching for her bags. "Allow me," Toby said, sweeping them out of her reach. She growled in frustration as he pushed past her into her apartment. Her first thought was to go for the mace she kept on her night table, but Toby had stopped in the doorway. Peering around him, Ciara saw that Kris was there to greet her, as always. As soon as he saw Toby his hissed, and his fur stood on end, fluffing him up into a giant hairball. She smothered a giggle beneath her hand. "Yours?" Toby asked, pointing at the cat. "He was a uh... Christmas present," Ciara explained. "Cute," Toby muttered. He obviously did not think Kris was cute. Nor was the cat much impressed with Toby, and he followed him into the kitchen, stiff-legged and fluffed up. Ciara crept over to her night table, not wanting to draw attention to her movement. Her fingertips were just brushing the canister of mace when she heard her apartment door shut. Startled, she whirled around to find Toby blocking the doorway, with Kris spitting at him angrily. "Stupid cat," Toby growled, kicking Kris roughly aside. "Hey!" Ciara yelled, forgetting the mace and dashing forward to protect her cat. Toby grabbed her before she could get very far. She shrieked, and he clapped a hand over her mouth. Ciara struggled against his hold as he pushed her down to the bed, and she clawed at him, digging her nails into his flesh. He dug his knee into her stomach, pinning her down and knocking the air out of her. Toby grabbed hold of her blouse and tugged hard, tearing it open. That freed up her mouth, but she couldn't breathe, let alone scream. An angry yowl reached her ears. Toby was grabbing at her breasts roughly when Kris launched himself onto the man's shoulders and clawed at his face. Toby snarled, jumping back and grabbing hold of the cat, flinging him aside easily. Ciara had used the moment of distraction to grab the mace and when he turned to face her again, she sprayed him full in the eyes. He howled, jumping off the bed an away from her, clawing at his face. The mace stung enough as it was, but the scratches Kris had left behind made it worse. "Get out!" Ciara shouted, shoving Toby roughly backward. "Or I'll call the police!" She opened the door of her apartment and shoved him again, so that he stumbled out into the hall and fell. Ciara slammed the door hard, then proceed to lock it and deadbolt it. Her heart hammered in her chest and she was trembling badly. Her legs nearly gave out on her, but a plaintive mew caught her attention. Kris! Ciara thought, her heart leaping into her throat. Please be okay, oh please be okay! Kris wobbled out of the kitchen, looking a little dazed but otherwise fine. Ciara fell to her knees and scooped the cat up, drawing him close to her. Tears welled in her ears, and spilled over, streaking down her cheeks. That will teach me, she thought, biting her lip. From now on I'm carrying the mace with me wherever I go. She looked down at Kris and smiled. "Thank you, Kris," Ciara said, giving the cat a kiss on the top of his head. "I guess this makes you my hero." Kris meowed. He braced his paws on her shoulders and licked her on the neck, just beneath the earlobe, the way he did every night before bed. Ciara giggled, feeling better now. She stood up and carried Kris with her into the bathroom, where she set him down on the toilet. Although she doubted Toby would ever be back, she locked the bathroom door just in case. She was still shaking a bit as she undressed, and when she turned to face the mirror she saw faint bruises on her breasts. Sighing, Ciara piled her clothes in the corner, then turned on the shower. She glanced over at Kris, who was watching the bathroom door like a watchdog. "That's right, my little hero," Ciara said, reaching out to scratch between his ears. "Keep watch for me while I wash away this slimy feeling." Kris meowed but kept his eyes diligently on the doorway, and for a moment Ciara got the odd feeling that he'd understood her. This was utter nonsense, of course; he was only a cat, albeit a smart one. Shaking her head, she stepped into the shower, sighing as the hot spray hit her skin. I may be alone, but I'm not lonely anymore, Ciara thought. I have Kris now. He might have been just a cat, but he gave her love unconditionally, and she no longer felt so alone. ------- Ciara handed the taxi driver a twenty and stepped out of the cab. She was freezing in the little dress that was part of her costume, despite the coat she wore over it and her scarf, gloves, and earmuffs. At least this wretched holiday is pretty much over, she thought, rubbing her aching head. Never, ever, ever again will I take a job as one of Santa's elves. On this, her last day on the job, Ciara had been kept out until midnight. Santa's entourage had catered to a rich man's Christmas Eve party, and she'd been offered a bonus to go along. Her whole body ached and she was exhausted. All she really wanted to do was sleep, but she was looking forward to a shower and some food. None of the employees had been allowed to eat at the party. And Ciara reminded herself that Kris would be waiting for her, which cheered her up immensely. She even found the energy to trot up the stairs to her apartment door, and her spirits were lifting by the time she'd opened it. It was dark inside, and she quickly flicked on the light. And shrieked. There was a man lying in her bed! A man she didn't know, didn't recognize! He was asleep beneath the blankets, although they only covered his hips. The strange man was tall, although a little bit thin. Black hair spilled across her pillow, longish and thick. Perhaps it was her imagination, but his face had a sort of feline cast to it; she could have sworn his ears looked slightly pointed. Her shriek woke him and he sat up abruptly. When he caught sight of her he blinked, then smiled. Completely unconcerned, the strange man stretched lazily, yawning widely as he did so. "Y... you..." Ciara stammered. "How... how did you get in here?" The man blinked at her again. "You let me in." "I did no such thing!" Ciara retorted, glaring at him. "I don't know who you are, but I want you out of here now! Or I'll call the police." "You know who I am," the man said, standing up from the bed. "I'm Kris." Ciara would have told him just how ridiculous she thought that was, but her mouth had gone dry. He wore not a stitch of clothing, and despite being on the thin side, there was something about him that was absolutely magnetic. She found herself staring, and that made her blush. The man who claimed to be Kris moved toward her, his stride fluid and graceful in a way that no man's should have been. "Y... you think... you're my cat!?" Ciara managed at last. "You're crazy! Where's my cat!?" "I already said, I am Kris," the man repeated, moving ever closer. "Look at me, Ciara. You recognize me, I know you do." Ciara shook her head, but she couldn't speak. This strange man could not possibly be her cat. And yet the gray-green eyes staring at her so intently begged to differ. She knew those eyes so well after only seven days. Trembling, she took a couple of steps forward. The man paused before her, waiting patiently, as she reached out and timidly touched his cheek. Ciara's legs gave out beneath her and she sank to her knees. "You... you're really my cat?" she asked, staring up at him. The man... Kris... sank to his knees in front of her. His fingertips brush her cheek lightly. His body seemed to radiate warmth and the closer he got, the more she wanted to pull him near. His voice was husky, almost purring in tone, and warm breath rushed against her ear as he spoke. "I was your cat," he corrected. "I assure you, Ciara, I am all man now." He licked her neck, in the spot just beneath her earlobe. His tongue was not rough like a cat's, but she knew there was no one who could have known of Kris' bedtime gesture... except for Kris. Ciara trembled violently despite the warmth of his body against hers. His lips teased her earlobe and she reached up, closing her arms around his shoulders without really thinking about it. "How?" Ciara whimpered, shivering as he licked her neck again. "How is it possible?" "Does it really matter?" Kris asked, sitting back to gaze at her. "You've cared for me, Ciara. You took me in, gave me a home, kept me fed... I can't tell you how grateful I am." His deep, husky voice made her shiver. Hands that were calloused but gentle unwound her scarf, removed her mittens, and pushed her coat back off her shoulders. The dress she was wearing made her feel ridiculous, especially with the intent way he was staring at her. It had an empire waistline and the top half was red, reaching high up her throat and going all the way down to her wrists. The bottom half was green sequins that fell about half way to her knees. At least Ciara had been allowed to wear simple, tan pantyhose... which were little protection against the heat of his hand as it pressed against her thigh. "But... but you were a cat..." Ciara protested weakly. "You can't know... I mean... humans don't... um..." "You keep forgetting, my Ciara," Kris purred, his hand sliding beneath her skirt. "I was a cat. I am no longer. And I assure you, I know exactly how... shall I demonstrate?" Ciara's mouth was dry. Kris leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, gently, warmly. His fingertips stroked high on her thigh, above the place where her stockings ended. She tightened her grip on him, burying her fingers in his thick, dark hair as he lowered her to the floor. His mouth became more restless, more forceful against hers. One hand pulled her hair from its braid and tangled in the soft brown locks. The other left her thigh to travel beneath her back, lifting her up. Ciara pulled herself up, holding onto him for support. She broke away from his fiery kisses and pressed her face against his shoulder as Kris pulled the zipper of her dress down. He drew back from her, his hands dropping to her shoulders and pulling the dress down to her waist. Ciara's cheeks heated and she felt the flush creeping down her neck. Kris chuckled softly, his fingers catching her beneath the chin and tilting her head up. "Have you anymore excuses, Ciara?" he asked, grinning at her. "I... I'm not making excuses," Ciara stammered. "I just... I've never... well, I've been a bit of a late starter in some things..." Kris' eyebrows lifted. "How late?" "Uh... now..." Ciara said, wincing. "That's pathetic, isn't it? Ugh... I'm talking to my cat about my lack of love life!" She squeaked as Kris pushed her back to the floor suddenly. His mouth descended on hers, as hot and passionate as it had been moments before. She couldn't help the small moan that crept up her throat. Strong hands pulled down the straps of her bra, pulling it down to bare her breasts. Ciara's cheeks darkened further, but her stomach tightened in anticipation. Kris' mouth traveled down along her neck, over her collarbone, and between her breasts. She dug her fingers into his hair, gasping as his mouth closed around one painfully hard nipple. Ciara's other hand wandered timidly down his back. His skin was soft and she could feel muscle beneath as he moved, like velvet pulled taunt over steel. Kris' teeth nipped lightly at the side of her breast. His hair tickled her neck and then her breasts as his mouth traveled down her stomach. "I am not a cat, Ciara," Kris murmured against her skin, his breath warm. She opened her eyes and looked down at him. There was something arousing about the way he was positioned, his body between her thighs and his mouth hovering above her belly. Strong arms wound around her, and Ciara shrieked, startled, when he hauled her up off the floor. Thin he might have been, but he was wiry with whipcord muscle. She wrapped her arms around his neck as Kris carried her into the bathroom. He set her down on her feet. Ciara could do little more than tremble as he slowly finished undressing her, his mouth following wherever his hands touched. She watched him, watched the careful way he lifted her feet to remove her stockings and the way he ran his hands lightly down her calves. Kris stood when he was finished, tossing her clothes into the corner as she always did. "What... what are you doing?" Ciara asked, her voice quivering. "Stop being so shy," Kris said softly, his fingers touching her cheek. "I... you... we can't just... I mean..." Ciara stammered. "I've never... so..." Kris' fingers slipped beneath her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. "Tell me you don't want this, Ciara. Look me in the eyes and tell me, and I'll stop." She couldn't. His gray-green eyes were intense and they seemed to look right through her. She stood on her toes and pressed her mouth to his, knowing there was no way she could tell him to stop. Kris held onto her, one arm wrapped around her waist, while the other reached behind the shower curtain and turned the shower on. His mouth never left hers, even when he pulled her into the shower. Ciara stumbled, almost falling, but Kris held her tight. Hot water sluiced over her back, yet it was nothing compared to the heat of his hands traveling over her hips. Ciara pressed her back against the wall, tilting her head up and baring her throat to Kris' lips and teeth. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs feathering lightly over her nipples. Water beaded on her skin and he lapped it away. Slowly he followed the rivulets of water down her belly, sinking to his knees beneath the spray of hot water. Kris rested a hand on her thigh, nudging them gently apart. Ciara trembled as she watched him. The first touch of his mouth against her wet, aroused flesh made her gasp and bite her lip. His tongue slid up against her, teasing her clit and then sliding inside her. She moaned, bracing her hands behind his head and pressing her hips against his mouth with each dip of his tongue inside her. Ciara brought a hand to her mouth, biting down on her knuckle as his lips curled around her clit, suckling on it. She stifled another moan against her hand, tossing her head back and squeezing her eyes shut. Her body tightened, her stomach knotted in anticipation and need. The soft sounds she tried to keep from spilling from her lips turned into cries as Kris' mouth worked against her, slowly teasing her to climax. Ciara leaned against the wall, catching her breath, as Kris lapped her thighs clean. Her legs trembled and if it weren't for his strong hands holding her up, she would have fallen. She opened her eyes and gazed down, to find his gray-green eyes staring at her intently. A mischievous smile curled the corners of his mouth as he stood, dragging her up against him. "Now, my Ciara," Kris murmured. "Allow me to care for you as you have for me." "Haven't you already?" Ciara blinked innocently at him, fighting a smile. Kris chuckled. "I've only just begun." Ciara luxuriated in his attention, relaxing against him as he first cleaned her from head to toe, soaping his hands rather than using the loofah. He lingered at her breasts, his fingertips tracing slowly around her areoles. Then he washed her hair for her, and she laughed softly; he might be human now, but he still struggled with the shampoo bottles. Ciara took it upon herself to wash him once he was finished. He was fascinating. She wasn't unfamiliar with the male body; advanced drawing classes called for nude models. Kris was entirely different. He was real and solid beneath her hands. She could feel muscle ripple under her palms as she traveled slowly downward, her soapy hands leaving a wake of bubbles. There was, however, something Ciara had never dealt with, certainly not up close. Her cheeks burned; he was hard. Kris chuckled softly, amused at her shyness. He pulled her to her feet, drawing her close and lowering his mouth to hers. She relaxed against him, opening her mouth to the gentle probing of his tongue. Kris turned her slightly, enough so he could reach over and turn the shower off. Cold air drifted through the shower curtain, cooling the water on Ciara's skin, but she clung to Kris, whose body was pleasantly warm. They laughed softly as they toweled each other off, and although she was shivering in the cold, she hardly noticed it. Calloused hands traveled over her hips and breasts, and down between her thighs. Teeth nipped at her neck and earlobe, making her squeak softly. Ciara let the towel she was holding drop, and wound her arms around Kris' neck as he picked her up and carried her to the bed. His mouth met hers again as he lowered her to the bed, restless and enthusiastic. Kris' mouth traveled down over her chin, along the line of her throat, down to her breasts. Ciara moaned at the heat over her skin. A hand traveled down over her belly, down between her thighs, pushing them gently apart. Fingertips stroked her, teasing wet, aroused flesh until she squirmed beneath him. Her heart pounded loudly, slamming against her ribs like a bird against a cage, and her blood roared. Kris braced himself above her, his face hovering above hers, his hair tickling her cheeks. She felt him against her entrance, large and hard, and bit her lip, sudden nerves knotting her stomach. Ciara closed her arms around her shoulders and braced herself. In one swift motion he was inside her, breaking through her virgin barrier. White hot pain lanced through her and she cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Don't cry, my Ciara," Kris murmured, his lips brushing the tears away. "I'm sorry it had to hurt..." He lay still inside her, as her body adjusted to the invasion. She ached, but the worst of the pain passed quickly. Ciara wriggled beneath him, curiously, and Kris groaned, lowering his head to her neck. Hot breath warmed her ear. She shuddered the first time he withdrew from her, then slid back in. It caused a hot friction inside her that made her bite her lip and dig her fingernails into Kris' skin. Again he withdrew, and again he slid back inside her. Ciara moaned softly, throwing her head back so his roving mouth could seek her throat. Each withdrawal and reentry quickly became a rhythm, one she struggled to match with the rising of her own hips. She arched her back, raising into the touch of Kris' hand as it traveled between her breasts, and lifting her hips into his as he thrust into her. Calloused fingertips traced the curves of her breasts, circled her areoles and teased her nipples. Ciara writhed beneath him, squeezing her eyes shut as he thrust into her over and over. His mouth dropped back to hers, stifling the moans that spilled past her lips. She dug her fingers into his hair, holding him close, keening softly under her breath as her belly tightened and tensed. Ciara pressed her face against Kris' shoulders, clinging to him desperately as she shook with climax. A thin sheen of sweat covered her skin and his. She opened her eyes slowly, gazing up at him, curious and a little confused. Gray-green eyes gazed down at her, gently amused. Kris gently brushed a lock of damp hair from her cheek. "Are you all right?" Kris asked. "Does it hurt a lot?" "Not really," Ciara answered, feeling her cheeks head once more. Kris' lips turned up in a mischievous grin. "Good. I'm not done yet." She shivered as he pulled out of her. Strong hands lifted her up, turning her over onto her belly. Ciara squeaked in protest as he lifted her hips up, trailing his hand down her belly and between her thighs. She was still so wet from all his teasing, so sensitive that his touch made her moan and bury her face against her pillow. She felt Kris' mouth against her back, spreading kisses over her shoulder blades and then running his tongue along her spine. "Kris..." Ciara breathed. "I must, Ciara," Kris murmured against the back of her neck. "I must." She gasped as he entered her again. She felt him hit deep inside her, then with draw, then thrust in again. Hot friction, mixed with her already oversensitive flesh, made her squirm and flounder amid the sheets. Her fingers curled around the pillow beneath her, clutching so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Teeth grazed her neck. Ciara tilted her head back, closing her eyes to relish the feel of his hot mouth against her earlobe. She brought her hips back against his, awkwardly at first, but with a rising match for his rhythm. Kris braced a hand on her back, holding her in place, but the other slipped beneath her, reaching up to her breasts, fondling them in turn. His fingertips slithered sinuously down over her belly, reaching between her thighs. Ciara shivered at the first brush against her clit. Mixed with each long, deep thrust of his body into hers, she had to fight hard now to cry out loudly. "Don't be afraid, my Ciara," Kris murmured, blowing hot breath across her ear. "Touch yourself, sweet. Here..." She whimpered as his touch left her. Strong fingers closed around her wrist then, drawing her own hand between her thighs. Her cheeks heated at just the thought. "I... I can't..." Ciara stammered. "You can," Kris whispered, his deep, husky voice making her shiver. Another thrust made her moan softly. Her fingers shook slightly as she lifted them between her thighs, timidly touching the heated, aroused flesh. Ciara shivered, her body shuddering with each stroke of Kris' body inside hers. She teased her clit shyly, her legs quivering and threatening to give out with each small touch to the oversensitive nub. Kris' teeth sank into her shoulder, and she felt him shuddering, felt the heat as he came inside her. Ciara groaned. She could feel the faint pulse of aftershocks as he rested inside her. A hand joined hers, cradling her fingers and joining them in teasing. Her little moans grew into loud cries until she came again, trembling from head to toe. Sweat trickled down her back and dampened her neck. Her limbs were exhausted, and she sank slowly down onto the blankets. Kris sank with her, resting against her, his arms curling under and around her to hold her through the afterglow. ------- Kris trailed his fingers through Ciara's hair, watching her face as she lay with her head on his chest. It was hard to believe that merely seven days ago he had felt as though his world was ending. Jenna seemed so far away now. The woman lying next to him became the center of his universe. He was watching her so intently that when her green eyes flickered open, he noticed right away. And right away Kris noticed that she looked sad. "Ciara," Kris murmured, propping himself up on his elbows. "What's wrong?" "Nothing," Ciara answered, swiping at eyes that threatened to spill over tears. Kris kissed her forehead gently. "Don't lie, sweetheart. Tell me what's bothering you." "You... were my cat," Ciara explained. "And suddenly you're a man but... how do I know you won't be a cat again when I wake up?" "I won't be," Kris assured her. "But... we don't know that for sure!" Ciara sighed. Kris dragged himself up to a sitting position, pulling her with him. He slid his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her gaze up to meet his. Her green eyes were lovely and bright. They pleaded for reassurance, and he knew that it didn't matter; he wasn't about to leave her. "I know for sure," Kris told her. "I know, because... I'm not your cat. I never was." Ciara stilled. "What?" "Well, I suppose I was your cat," Kris said. "But seven days ago, I was a man. My name is Kris Jacobs... my girlfriend Jenna broke up with me seven days ago. I was walking home and I found these guys mugging an old lady in an alley. I tried to stop them... and one of them stabbed me." Ciara gasped softly. He felt her hands against his chest, exploring gently, as though worried she would find a wound. Kris didn't even have a scar, which was shocking. He cradled her face in his hands, bringing his mouth down to kiss hers gently. She sighed softly and sank against him, her arms sliding around him. "I should be dead," Kris continued. "But I'm not. It's kind of foggy, these last seven days, but I remember... being your cat. You made me feel so loved, so cherished... in a way Jenna never did. I couldn't ask for a better Christmas present than finding you." A smile curved Ciara's lips. She chuckled softly. "An old woman, huh? So that's what she meant, about a kindness repaid. But... was she talking about yours or mine?" "Does it matter?" Kris asked. "Probably both. All that matters is that we found each either. So I definitely will be here in the morning, and I won't be a cat." "Well, in that case..." Kris blinked in surprise as Ciara sat up and climbed off the bed. He watched her curiously as she picked up her robe from where it was strewn on a chair in the corner and pulled it on. She didn't bother to cinch it, and the thought of that soft, bare skin made his body tighten. He sprang out of bed to follow her as she padded into the kitchen. "Where are you going?" Kris asked, puzzled. "I'm hungry," Ciara whimpered. Laughing, he caught up with her at the refrigerator and wound his arms around her. His head rested on her shoulder. "Do we have any Chinese food left?" "Beef lo mein," Ciara said, pulling the carton out. "We can share." Maybe the two of them should have been more astounded by what had happened to them. It mattered little. They laughed together as they waited by the microwave for the Chinese food to heat up. Kris tickled her and she shrieked, trying to wriggle out of her grasp. Neither cared to question the good fortune that had brought them together on this very miraculous Christmas. "Look, Ciara," Kris said, pulling her towards the window before she could reach the bed with her plate of Chinese food. "Look, it's snowing!" "A white Christmas," Ciara said, smiling as she leaned against him. "What are we going to do for Christmas?" "First, you're going to my apartment and getting me some clothes," Kris teased, laughing. "Then we'll go out. Haven't I told you, my Ciara? I come from a very rich family." Ciara laughed, her eyes sparkling with bright mischief. "I love my life." ------- The two figures in the window were oblivious to the old woman standing on the sidewalk in front of the apartment. A smile light her pale blue eyes and revealed her crooked teeth. A small mew from somewhere near her feet caught her attention and she bent down to lift the cat up. The scrawny little thing was mostly white (or mostly gray, as she was very dirty), with a splotch of black over her left ear and half her face. "You see, my friend," the old woman said, carrying the cat into the alley to collect a cardboard box from near the dumpster. "Every story has a moral. In this case, it never hurts to keep kindness in your heart... you'll never know when it will be repaid." The old woman put the cat in the box. None of the people walking by, even at this late hour, noticed the golden light that trailed from her fingers and into the lock of the door. The cat was quiet as the old woman carried the box up to the top floor and left it in front of the door of Ciara Burton's apartment. More gold light trickled from the old woman's fingers and the cat fell asleep beneath the glow. The old woman left the cat there for the happy couple, satisfied that her debt had been repaid. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2005-02-12 ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------