Eh. Short Christmas ficlet. I'd post it on Christmas, but there's no way I'll actually be able to get on my laptop, with family, opening presents, and church. Because Christmas is a Sunday, and when your dad's a preacher and you are an acolyte (alter-server to you Catholics), you still have to go to church on Christmas. Enjoy!

"Wakey wakey Max! It's Christmas! Pleeeeeaaaase get up so we can open presents and Iggy made breakfast and we can have a snowball fight and..." Nudge rambled. I moaned at the noise and rolled over, attempting to reenter the bliss of the deep sleep I had been in before that horrendous racket disturbed me.

"Ooooh! And we can go caroling!" Angel suggested.

"Nahhh, who actually carols on Christmas? December first, sure. Christmas Eve, fine. And that's all well and dandy, but on Christmas Day, the people that are actually home will be too busy to come listen," Nudge reasoned, and not with a shortness of words.

With a sigh, I rolled over onto my back and peeped through one eye. So much for sleeping in, it was probably only about eight a.m.

"Max! You're awake! This is greeeeeeeeeeeeeattt!" Nudge squealed. (Alvin and the Chipmunks, anyone?)

"Yay! We can go caroling!" Angel exclaimed.

"No, Angel, I thought I already told you. We've been through this and we are NOT going caroling." Nudge said in a demanding, leaderly voice punctuated by an exasperated sigh. Sadly, the faux- superiority she attempted to imply with her tone didn't come off quite right because her serious leaderly voice ended up more leader- wannabe.

"Actually, I don't think it's that bad of an idea," came Fang's voice from where he was slouched in my doorway with a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk. None of us had noticed him standing there, well not that it could exactly be considered standing, but still. Stupid annoying as heck (read: hot) silent ninja skills. By his not- quite- suppressed chuckle, I gathered that Angel had sent him my thoughts. Unless he had gotten new mind reading powers and neglected to tell me...? Judging by his reaction (looking at me like I was mentally insane, which I probably was, but that's beside the point...) when I turned my suspicious eyes on him, I don't think any new mind- reading powers were acquired by the silent (not)emo member of the flock.

"But really, I was serious about the caroling thing. We should go," he repeated.

And that is how I ended up freezing my butt off, starving to death because I hadn't had breakfast yet, and losing my voice trying to sing loud enough for people inside the houses to be able to actually hear us.

"We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, and a happy new year! Now bring us some figgy pudding, now bring us some figgy pudding, now bring us some figgy pudding, and a cup of good cheer!" we sang in voices more excited than we (read:I) really were (am).

"What is figgy pudding anyways?" Gazzy asked curiously when we got back into the warmth of the house.

"Ummm, I'm pretty sure it's like the old fashioned British version of cranberry sauce," I offered.

"Whatever it is, it sounds like food, so I'll go make us some," Iggy offered, heading into the kitchen.

"Really? The name sounds like a food to you?" I asked.

"Umm... yeah? Hence the name, well, pudding?" Nudge said, partly confused, partly like she was talking to someone who was slightly slow on the uptake.

"Oh. To me, it sounded like one of those couple names. You know, like Brangelina? Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie? Except Figgy would be Fang and Iggy. And so Figgy pudding would be..." I trailed off. And yes, to those of you who have your minds in the gutters and are thinking about that white stuff, yes, that's exactly what I meant. Those of you who have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, I won't be the one to steal the rest of your naivete.

"Max! I am NOT with Fang! I am STRAIGHT! Unless you're a guy, cause I like you... did I just say that out loud? Shit..." Iggy burst out. What an interesting development...

"Sexist pig! I am most definitely a girl! Or woman, female, whatever, but I am NOT a dude!" I screamed furiously in reply.

"And she has a boyfriend!" Fang added. I am thinking in a lot of exclamation marks here.

"Oh, but Fang, you know, you just know, you want some Figgy pudding," I purred teasingly.

"Oh, yeah, you know you want some of this," Iggy said in the gayest voice I've ever heard. He came back into the room, ripping of his shirt and rubbing his chest. He looked at Fang in a wanting, lustful expression. Whoa, whoa, whoa. I know Iggy had caught on to my teasing and decided to play along, but he was kind of scarily realistic. If he hadn't just admitted to crushing on yours truly, I would think he really was gay.

I was resting by the couch propped up on my elbows. Fang came over to my spot and lowered himself on top of me. I wound my arms around his neck and he put his forearms on either side of my torso. He punctuated each word with a kiss. "I. Kiss. Am. Kiss. Not. Kiss. Gay. Longer kiss. I. Kiss. Love. Kiss. You. Kiss. Not the pyro. Even longer kiss. Do you. Kiss. need me. Kiss. To prove it?" He stopped for a moment to hear my reply.

"Oh, I know. You don't have to prove it. But I think you probably should..." I trailed off and kissed his neck. I saw the kids leave the room out of the corner of my eye.

"Whatever you say, Maximum Love- of- my- life Ride." He carried me into his bedroom and dropped me onto his bed. "You know, I think I'll like Fax-y pudding a lot better," he mused.

I had a feeling this was gonna be a good Christmas.

So there ya have it. Hope ya liked it. Merry Christmas and all that jazz. Isn't that a song? I dunno. Wow. I think i'm gonna end this before I get sent to a nuthouse for talking (typing?) to myself.