FANSERVICE. Yep, no plot. I wanted fluff and hugs and happy people with an edge of risqué, and I got it here. Buahaha.

Written to Phil Collins' "I'll be in your Heart", because I was in a nostalgia mood and felt like Tarzan. Yes. Tarzan. No, Felix is not going to enter in a loin-cloth and there will be no ape impressions, but the Collins lyrics fit really well with the pairing. XD

Kindle

It was cold, but then again Prox was known for that. You couldn't expect to live here and not feel the bite of it from time to time. It took a lot to keep going in the winter; heavy clothes, thick gloves, tough boots, tougher skin.

Well, maybe not too thick.

Snow and ice crunched underfoot as the sun had vanished over the western mountains hours ago. Not that it was decidedly late in the day- it was just very dark. Day and night weren't very good timekeepers this far north, it was much more effective to use the speed of melting wax to determine the day's end. He didn't know who'd put it all together first, but lodging a series of metal balls into a candle-stick to mark the hours was ingenious.

However, taking a position in the perma-frozen settlement as a member of the paper-pushing administration had not been so remarkable. But it suited him, somehow. He didn't often have much to say but despite his age he seemed to be taken seriously when he did decide to open his mouth. It kept him late more often than not though, so it was a relief this time to have been let off relatively early by every time-keeper by the sky.

The house was not as cold as he expected it to be, which was a pleasant surprise. There was no food out though, but that wasn't all together unexpected. He hadn't left anything out when he'd left that morning- again, without the sun- after all.

Shutting the door tightly behind him, it took a few minutes of shaking and clapping and stomping to get the bulk of the snow off himself before he could reasonably begin to remove gloves and scarf and first coat. And then there was the unconventional second coat he was allowed to sport as one not-native to the area, and the second scarf. Boots...

The bedroom was slightly colder than the rest of the house, which was a disappointment since there'd still been some flame and a fresh log when he'd left, and that was normally enough. He shrugged off the thick belt and nearly-ankle long tunic of his office and hung them on their pegs next to the door. Catching a look at himself in the plain mirror he ran a hand back through the dark, heavy locks. In the south it was better to keep hair neatly trimmed and short. Up here, that was just too insanely cold to be an option. He should probably start growing a beard though, wrapping that scarf around his face made it difficult to speak when getting ready to leave work- there was no such thing as just getting up from the table, putting on your things and going home.

He'd think about the beard, but before then...

He paused and looked around, frowning. He took a moment to fan the cold ashes to make sure they were actually dead before grabbing tinder and scrounging for the flint to re-ignite the bedroom flame. A fire in every room, that was what was needed in Prox. He was heading back toward the main living room where his wet things needed to be hung up when he stopped again. Another frown.

Now, the den fire was still glowing- not by a lot, but enough not to be dead. Crossing over to the door- yep, boots, four of them. He hung the wet clothes up and found another cloak in a similar arrangement, but this one was dry. Curious, very curious, the house was still cold and quiet after all.

He backtracked around the house- checking the oven quickly only to find it cold like the bedroom fire had been, dashing the vain hope of a warm meal already prepared. It wasn't until he'd gone into the bedroom again and pulled his head out that he noticed it, and wondered why he hadn't before. Actually, his nose had been red from the cold, so that was probably why it took so long.

He could smell steam, and he actually thought to turn around and look down the house's small corridor toward the only plausible source. To run so many fires required that houses and rooms remain tight and compact, but the winter also forbade bathing in any of the rivers or lakes that weren't completely frozen for several months of the year. So every house needed a room for bathing, and those rooms had to be kept especially warm or else the bather would just catch their death and die. Not fun.

The door was closed, which in a way was good but in another was not. It meant the heat from the bath didn't get out too readily, but it was bad since he could smell steam and it was closed, so it had been steaming for a while. And that was bad because that much heat meant that much more wood to chop.

"Hello?" Gently, he rapped the back of his fingers on the door, a bit put off by how warm the door was compared to the air around him. "Are you in there?" No response. If he was put off by the cold then he was certainly put out by the silence. Another soft knock and lack of response, and he did the only thing that made sense.

Obviously, he opened the door, went inside, shut the door behind him, and made sure to do so quietly.

The steam was actually beginning to disperse, which said something about how long it had been going. The stone-work floor was beaded with water which caused him to jump a little as he hadn't thought to put on his house-shoes while running around. There were no windows in this chamber of the house- not an exceptionally large room either- and at a glance he noted how low the lantern light was burning. He assumed it was from lack of fuel more than anything else, the water was probably beginning to cool.

At least he found the culprit though, one arm draped over the edge of the long brass bath, head resting on her shoulder as the other was out've sight under the lip of the tub. Not waiting for him though, which might have dampened his mood a little- was she asleep?- but there none the less and not how he'd expected to see her when he came home.

Good manners... Hm... Good manners probably said he should grab the nearest towel, hold it up in front of him to block her from view, make some sort've sound to wake her up, hand over the towel with eyes closed, apologize and back out.

Bad manners... bad manners said fuck the good manners and make up the difference at work.

Rolling up his sleeves with a smile, he had to be extra careful with the small three-legged stool he picked up and set down just behind the tub and to the side of her she wasn't leaning on. Oh yes, she was asleep, dabbling a finger in the bath water told him it was still warm but definitely too cold to steam, so she'd been in there a while. There was some sort've perfume in it too, but that had all sunk to the bottom and diluted, and it was just too easy to get around the glare of the lantern light with his eyes.

She was going to get a kink in her neck if she stayed like that much longer. Folding his one arm onto the rim, he'd set his chin down and, still smiling, let his other sink into the water up to his wrist. Her people had this fascinating ability to condition their skin for war and then have it return to normal once things settled down, and he had to admit he greatly preferred the texture of skin over scale. She didn't mind the gentle touch on her shoulder just under the water, but when he cupped some of the warmth in his hand and let it splash down her neck and throat, she noticed the change.

"Nnn?"

"Shh..." She didn't have to wake up yet, but his smile got a little silly at the sound she made. With his hand resting gently across the side of her throat he'd be able to feel her twitch a little as she tried to move her head then gave up on it. It meant abandoning the small stool to crouch, but he moved his resting arm to slip around and brush down the arm she'd left hanging out in the air.

"You sleep here now to avoid me?" He chuckled, nuzzling his face against hers as, eyes closed, she finally nudged her head up toward him. He leaned over a bit more at her urging, tilting her chin up toward him with that hand on her throat to help close the distance between their lips. Good, she liked that. He traced her skin along the edge of the water as she drew her arm back in and away from him, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders as she slid down a little more into the water. Hmph, he didn't like that.

"My neck hurts..."

"I believe you." He placed another kiss just over her ear, feeling the red amber of her hair all tangled and rough from trying to dry in place. But she smelled good, that was what counted, that and the sound she made by virtue of still being half asleep. She leaned forward a bit, bringing up her knees before she scooted back to keep within his reach, and he obliged her happily enough. There was a bruise on one shoulder he hadn't noticed though, and he frowned when he found it, pausing and letting a bit of yellow light collect in his palm.

"Another one?" She bristled at her own words, trying to twist her head around over her shoulder. No, no, no, that wasn't the direction things were going to take. They could talk about his paper work and her new recruits later. With a cheeky look he made the glow appear in both hands now instead, letting it shimmer across her skin as she relaxed again and settled back down. Which meant he could...

"-! Felix!" What? He didn't do anything bad, unless getting his shirt wet counted, which he didn't think it did. He'd slipped his hands down and around her stomach to pull her as close to the edge of the tub as he could manage without hurting either of them. If 'as far as he could' entailed lifting her out've the water a little bit, so be it.

"What? I'm just helping you out, you have to be clean by now." He purred, speaking against her neck instead of her ear as he could feel the water from her skin soaking into his top. Oh well. "Look, the steam's all gone." She squirmed once and he kept down the urge to laugh against her.

"Felix, it's cold! Honestly, where's my towel?" Good, she was laughing now too, but she was right about the cold, the water between her flesh and his touch was chilling right down. His lips touched her shoulder and he let her slip back down into the water. She shivered and it amused him.

"There's only one fire going in the house." He explained, picking up the soft downy length she'd set aside for herself already. She was leaning on the edge of the tub watching him arms hooked over the rim until he held it up for her approval, and she reached for it. "The den went out while you were sleeping." He was tempted to feint her with the covering, but that might not be such a good idea. He was surprised though when the first thing she did was unfold it and retrieve a small stone pendant and cord.

"Ah, so that's where that went. I thought you said you'd 'never take it off'?"

"I have my moments of infidelity." Wait, what? "You lit the oven then? Is there food ready?" He blinked and she was wrapped up in her towel speaking to him, using one of the edges to dry off her legs. How did he miss her getting out?

"Food? No, I lit our room. What do you mean by...?" With two steps that tempting little vixen had a strong enough grip on his shirt to tug him abruptly down to her level and shut him up.

"Karst." That was hard to say against another pair of lips.

"Race you." ... ... ...

That sounded good.

M might be a bit high, but I didn't know if I could get away with a T Rating for this. Oh well!

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