A/N: Happy Cobert Christmas, Everyone!


The girls were getting older, far too old for silly Christmas traditions they repeatedly informed their parents. Mary spoke for her sisters when she insisted that they did not need to hold the annual Christmas pantomime nor did they need to have Cook make the large and fancily dressed gingerbread men that they three had a habit of fighting over each and every year. No, they were young ladies, and no longer needed things ascribed to young children anymore.

Cora of course was having none of it. She resolutely refused all of Mary's requests and insisted that the Christmas pantomime go ahead, as well as the traditional Christmas biscuits and other lovely, childish touches that were included in their festivities each year. And, in addition to what they had each year, Cora requested specifically that Cook also craft a very large, and very ornate gingerbread house that was to be the centerpiece of their Christmas dinner. Modeled after something found in a magazine, and spoken of by several of their London friends, the exquisite creation was over a foot high and covered in shiny white icing, along with glittering colored candies brought in especially from Ripon. She wanted the girls to have something extra special to enjoy, and something unique to their other childhood memories; she wanted them to simply enjoy the holiday and not be so concerned with growing up and out of their long cherished traditions.

The gingerbread house was rather magnificent. So magnificent, in fact, that Carson ordered the confection to be brought up and displayed in the library so that the young ladies might be able to view it whilst opening their gifts come morning. Whilst the family ate their Christmas Eve dinner, two footmen carried the delicate little structure all the way from the kitchen to the library and set it gingerly onto His Lordship's desk.

And that is precisely where Robert came upon it when he wandered into the library some time later for an after dinner drink. He did not notice the tiny house erected from gingerbread and candies at first, for he was too busy opening a fresh bottle of scotch and taking a very long drink. Dinner had been a rather trying affair; his three little ladies seemed intent on arguing each point the other made, and attempting to get them to bed, even with the promise of gifts come morning, was an uphill battle. Adding his mother and very tired wife into the mix made for quite the evening. He knew a well deserved scotch would set things right again, though, and felt a renewed sense of Christmas spirit as the amber liquid warmed his throat.

After draining the contents of his glass and pouring himself another healthy serving, Robert turned to survey the room, deciding between a seat by the fire or his desk. He had taken but one step toward the settee nearest to the fire when a flicker of light refracted off the shining candies affixed to the gingerbread house and caught his attention.

Robert grinned widely with the excitement of a little boy. Cora knew how much he enjoyed gingerbread, and upon closer inspection, she clearly had commissioned a large, delicious looking little cottage made entirely out of his favorite biscuit. It was, he decided as he popped a candy off the top and into his mouth, a terribly sweet Christmas surprise. "Delicious…" he repeated aloud, to no one particularly, and reached down carefully to pick up the surprisingly heavy treat up off his desk and over to the settee. After quickly moving across the room once more to fetch his scotch, Robert ensconced himself by the fire, examining his treat carefully.

A tiny tree made of marzipan was the first to go, followed quickly by a rather large portion of the roof. Any thoughts of preserving some of the house and savoring it were quickly lost in a haze of scotch and sugar as the windows, tiny snowmen and chocolate fence were also consumed.

The entire abode was nearly dismantled by the time Cora strode through the door, ostensibly having finally put the girls to sleep, and fixed him with a horrified stare. "What are you doing?" She cried, taking several quick steps toward him, her gaze moving back and forth between the crumbs in his lap and the half-eaten gingerbread house.

Robert frowned, swallowing a large bite of biscuit, and wiped absently at the crumbs he felt on his cheek. "Eating my gingerbread house," he replied, looking up at her dumbly.

Her cheeks flamed, only in the way they did when she was particularly angry, and she reached down to grab the tray holding the rest of his house up from off the settee. "This was for the children," she hissed, surveying the damage. "Have you lost all good sense? Why on Earth would you do this?" Her eyes widened as she noticed the chocolate polar bear whose head he had bitten off a few minutes earlier.

"I—er—" Robert paused, standing on unsteady legs, and attempted to take the large tray back from his wife, to at the very least help her hold it. She only pulled it back though, looking at him like he absolutely could not be trusted. "I thought it was a present for me," he replied finally, pursing his lips and finding them rather sticky.

Cora sighed as she set the tray and ruined masterpiece down onto the stool beside the settee. "Why would you think that?" She asked, her voice laced with utter annoyance.

"It was on my desk," he answered simply, pointing at the desk, as if she did not know its location. "And, I like gingerbread, so I thought…" his voice trailed off as he recounted the events of the last hour, realizing that there was no gift tag accompanying the treat, nor was there any indication that it really was for him.

"You thought I'd asked Cook to make you a very large gingerbread house, complete with animal shaped candies, to enjoy in the dark all by yourself?" She raised a brow, taking in his rumpled suit and then pursed her lips, noticing a shiny green candy stuck to his sleeve, and tried not to laugh.

"Well, when you phrase it that way," Robert frowned and sat backward into the settee, letting out an annoyed humph of his own as he ran a hand across his brow.

Cora rolled her eyes, sitting down beside him after a pause, and said quietly, "you don't need to act like a child about it." When he looked up at her, pouting, she returned his look with a half-smile and added, "but I apologize for yelling at you. I should have made sure that it was being safely guarded in the kitchen. Because I do know how much you enjoy gingerbread, my darling."

Robert looked up, chancing a sheepish smile, and replied, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin the girls' Christmas treat." Cora only shook her head, shrugging her shoulders in amused resignation, and leaned back against the settee, reaching out to take his hand.

"It's alright," she answered with a soft chuckle. "It would have been eaten tomorrow. And at least someone enjoyed it." When he looked up at her in question, she continued, "no doubt Mary would have called it childish and your mother would not likely be amused by a large house made entirely of candy. Perhaps you did me a favor," she smirked.

"Well, in that case, you're welcome," Robert replied, a silly grin painted across his face once more. And, plied with both excess sugar and alcohol, he could not resist the close proximity of his wife; so, leaning in very close, he pressed his lips to hers and murmured, "I did enjoy it very, very much, you know."

"I'm sure," Cora whispered, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. Her lips lingered for a long moment before she tilted her head back, her eyes alight with amusement, and murmured, "you taste of gingerbread." Then, kissing him once more, her tongue running lightly over his bottom lip, she added, "and chocolate as well."

Robert, unable to hide his own glee at their averted argument, only smiled wider and leaned in, hoping for another kiss. "I have been told that I'm very sweet," he replied with a laugh, his hand slowly making its way up Cora's thigh, across the dark, evergreen colored velvet dress she wore.

Cora smirked again and tilted her head up even closer to his own, this time letting her lips glide softly over his chin, suckling the skin there ever so lightly. "You've made quite a mess, darling; you're completely covered in sugar," she murmured, her lips still moving carefully over the jut of his chin. "But that's not to say I'm not enjoying it," she added quickly, before he could so much as move a muscle. And with that, she kissed him again, her lips moving slowly, sweetly against his own as she inched her body closer and let her hands twine around his thick, dark hair.

Before he could quite get his bearings, Robert found himself pressed completely back against the settee with his wife practically crawled right into his lap. On occasion, usually an occasion that warranted a few glasses of champagne, Cora would be so bold as to initiate a more amorous encounter somewhere other than their bedroom; but this time it was only he whose senses were lagging, slightly impaired from his scotch, and it felt rather odd to have his wife be so forceful with him, so very sure of her own movements and their effect on him. It was, honestly, rather glorious.

The pads of her thumbs ran in slow, methodical circles against the rough of his cheek, pressing lightly into the skin as she deepened their kiss. She said he tasted of candy and the sugary sweets he'd consumed; Cora, though, tasted sweet as well, the unmistakable taste and smell of lavender and crackling fires and the soft delicate silk she always wore. It was something he could identify no matter how inebriated he was, something unique to his wife that had the power to drive him utterly mad with desire.

She settled her weight more fully onto his lap, sparking his already increasing arousal and forcing him to release a soft groan, breathing out, "Cora," almost in a plea for mercy. For as utterly desirable as she could be, Cora could be equal parts torturous, teasing him until he could bear no more. And as she made no effort to do anything other than press her lips sweetly to his own, Robert had the hazy realization that she perhaps was punishing him a bit.

That thought was confirmed only a handful of seconds later when she stilled his roaming hands, grasping them at her sides, and murmured against his cheek, "haven't you already had your fill of sweet things tonight?"

"No," he replied petulantly, attempting to free his wrists from her firm grasp. "And you didn't let me finish my candy house, so it's only fair to let me finish this more important thing," he added, matter-of-factly. Then, with surprising dexterity, he reached beneath her bottom and lifted both himself and Cora, who was now in his arms, up from the settee.

His wife gasped in surprise but allowed him to cradle her in his embrace, his palms resting against her thighs, and his face alight with mirth. "Unless you plan to give me the rest of that gingerbread?" He asked teasingly, nipping at her neck.

Cora shook her head, winding her arms more securely around his neck, and replied in a near-growl, "not a chance."

"Good," Robert grinned, taking a few careful steps away from the settee, judging his balance. When he was satisfied that he wouldn't drop her, Robert stole one more kiss from his wife and marched determinedly upstairs.

Cora flounced gracefully onto the soft, feathery mattress as Robert released her from his careful grasp. She giggled, unable to contain her amusement at the look of sheer determination on his face, and crooked a finger at him, beckoning him closer.

"Darling?" She whispered lowly, waiting until he was mere inches from her, "you can have the rest of your treat now, if you'd like."

Robert nodded eagerly, fiddling with the buttons of his waistcoat. He turned, after shucking off both his dinner jacket and shirt, and moved to drape them across the chaise in the corner. He turned at the sound of his wife giggling, the melodic sound floating about the room. "Something funny?" He asked, turning his head over his shoulder to take in the lovely sight behind him.

"Darling—" she was interrupted by her own laughter, and then, after a moment, removed herself from bed and practically skipped across the room. Before he could inquire further, he felt her fingers press into his behind and then, more laughter. "You had a candy stuck to your behind," she explained, pressing the bright red sweet into his palm.

"Well," he answered, chuckling at the rather sticky candy he'd been handed, "I suppose you're not going to let me eat that, so…" without warning, he tossed it onto the floor and looked up, a wicked smile pulling at his handsome features, and scooped his wife back up into his arms, crossing the room and dropping her onto the mattress. This time, he crawled up beside her and reached for the hem of her dress, pressing warm, soft kisses to her neck as he set about his task.

He dismantled the pieces of his wife's attire even faster than his work on the gingerbread house, leaving them both in similar states of undress in but a handful of moments.

Cora reclined against the pillows, her eyes closed blissfully as Robert devoured his second treat of the night. Divested of all her clothes, save her underthings, there was nothing to act as a barrier as Robert's lips sucked hungrily at her skin, his teeth gently tugging on one nipple as his hands ran over the soft curve of her breast. She sighed, her head tucked back into the pillow, and her body arched up to meet his touch, shivering delightfully when he continued an exploratory trail of kisses down her belly, his lips still slightly sticky from traces of syrupy sugar.

Encouraged by her breathy sighs and the way her body pressed upward to meet his own, Robert grasped Cora's waist and pulled her down ever so slightly, looking up and waiting for her just-perceptible nod before guiding himself into her. Watching as Cora bit her lip, he waited again before starting to move, setting a slow, lazy rhythm with his hips.

They could have rolled around the sheets, sharing sweet kisses and playful touches, all night before coming together, but Robert recognized the serene, almost tired expression his wife wore and knew they both wanted the same thing; there would be other nights to draw their pleasure out to seemingly endless lengths. Tonight they were both content to skip any other courses and settle right on their dessert, so to speak.

So, again encouraged by the way she moved beneath him, her hands pressing into his lower back to encourage his movements, Robert quickened his pace, settling his forehead against the crook of her neck as he leaned up and whispered sweet adorations into her ear, knowing as she hooked her legs up around him and nibbled on his ear that when given the choice he would eschew any and all sweets of the gingerbread variety if he could have this instead.

Robert soon felt Cora's legs pull him closer to her, followed by an unmistakable tensing that quickly drew him over the edge as well. He continued to move, slowly, for another few seconds, and let out a contented sigh, the feel of Cora's nails scraping lazily over his back sending a delicious shiver up his spine.

They—begrudgingly—redressed themselves in nightclothes, knowing three little girls very eager for presents would be running into their room in a few hours, and so, sated from their coupling, they agreed that flannels might be more sensible than bare skin.

It was not long at all before sleep claimed them both, tangled loosely in the sheets and their mussed bedclothes, not to mention tangled up in one another.

When Carson, red in the face and painted with a look of extreme worry explained to Her Ladyship the next morning that the footmen had come upon the gingerbread house in quite a state, she merely smiled and shrugged, blaming "His Lordship's misbehaved dog" and promising that she was not upset in the least.

It was only fair, after all, for she had gotten her fill the night before as well.