Island Wolf: Ho, ho, ho gentlefolk – I trust you've all been perfectly naughty Redorbshippers ;) Well I'm here to give you all a little Christmas present in the form of this little one-shot, huzzah. Now before anyone tries sinking their teeth into me for the concept of the pairing (Maxie/May) for god's sake the girl is aged up, same as all my other fics. This story, like No Man's Land, takes place roughly ten years after the events of Ruby, so May's about 22/23 so breathe (I do not and never will ship 12 year olds with 30 something year olds, Christ almighty...) and enjoy, it's Christmas!
I'm using some headcanons that I've established in No Man's Land for the purpose of this fic, specifically three: that May works as a bartender in a pub on the outskirts of Little Root, that her parents passed away some time ago in a maritime disaster, and that she and Steven/The League are after having a falling out. I will also be switching between POVs (always in third person though) which will generally be denoted by a line break. Alright now that that's been established time for the disclaimer: I don't own pokémon or its characters, I just like playing with them for my own twisted sport. Also the fic title comes from the song of the same name by First Aid Kit which was a big inspiration.
The Green Tailow was decked to the nines for Christmas.
Garlands, wreaths and lights festooned the pub's walls, bathed in the soft shimmering glow of the firelight coming from the old brick hearth in the far corner. Bing Crosby's rendition of 'White Christmas' played soft and sweet over the radio, drifting through the wisps of tobacco smoke and steam from hot cider. It should've been a cheery place, but on Christmas Eve there was a keen sense of melancholy emanating from the darkened corners of the room where solitary patrons sat hunched over their drinks and half-smoked cigarettes. The bar itself was occupied only by a single elderly gentleman and the young woman who tended it.
"Another gin and tonic Ralph?"
"If you would be so kind Miss May."
May Maple smiled and took the elderly man's glass, dipping it in the cooler to refill it with ice before grabbing the bottle of gin from the shelf behind her. She flipped the bottle over so quick the glass hardly seemed to touch her fingertips as she measured out a double of liquor and filled the rest with carbonated water. She added in a wedge of lime with a wink and slid it down the bar. Ralph raised it in a toast before taking a drink, smiling appreciatively. Every motion and gesture was colourless and a sad parody of what would've been a lively night just days before.
Where there had once been couples and companies of friends and old companions making merry there were empty chairs and the shadows of people with nowhere else to be, and no one else to be with. May plucked another glass off of the rack and started drying it with the towel she kept flung over her left shoulder. She fought back a sigh – she couldn't say anything, she was in the exact same boat. "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know..."
A bell chimed softly, indicating the arrival of another lost and lonely soul who had no where else to be on Christmas Eve. May looked up and very nearly dropped the glass she was holding.
Flaming red hair was still as vibrant as she remembered, with nary a trace of grey despite the fact it had been at least ten years since they'd last met. His eyes, however, had changed. She remembered twin pools of impossibly dark brown that burned with a fiery passion the likes of which she'd never again encountered. Now the coffee coloured orbs were dull and subdued, downcast behind the lens of his thin-framed glasses. The brazen red and black overcoat was gone, replaced by a simple grey pea-coat that had clearly seen better days and a dark red scarf around his neck. He apparently had failed to notice her and moved to sit at the opposite end of the bar from the older gentleman, resting his forearms wearily on the bar top.
May swallowed thickly and felt her heart hammering heard against her ribs. Oh Christ, this was not how Christmas Eve was supposed to go. She carefully set down the glass and edged towards him, wringing the towel in her hands. "Maxie?"
He looked at her sharply and for one brief moment she saw a flash of – something, in his eyes, but as quickly as it had come it was gone. He didn't look angry as she'd feared, no outrage or disgust – he just looked tired. Maxie gave her a nod. "Miss Maple, I was – unaware you were the proprietor of this establishment."
"Not the proprietor, just the bartender," she said, shaking her head. "The owner is spending Christmas with his wife."
"Shouldn't you be with your family?" Maxie asked dryly. May folded her arms over her chest and leaned back against the rear wall. She looked past him, at the fireplace and the handmade wreath above it. She shook her head with a sad smile.
"I don't have any family. Surely you remember the wreck of the Moira?"
He had the decency to look apologetic. "What about Mr. Stone?"
"He and I – are no longer on speaking terms," she answered tersely and for a moment she swore Maxie looked oddly amused, even if he seemed determined not to look her in the eye. She took advantage of his averted gaze and studied him more closely. It was hard to tell with his long overcoat, but it seemed like he'd lost weight and the dark shadows beneath his eyes bespoke of many a long and sleepless night. To be honest it seemed like a miracle he was even conscious – he looked so exhausted, so done. May frowned and retrieved a clean glass and a bottle of 12 year-old Glenfiddich scotch from a secured cabinet behind her and poured out a liberal amount. She pushed the glass of liquor towards him and smiled at his wary expression.
"Miss Maple -"
"On the house Mr. Asher," she said, cutting him off before he could protest. "I'm a bartender, this is kind of my job."
He traced the rim of the glass with his finger. "And pray tell, how did you know I drank scotch?"
"Call it a talent," She shrugged. "I have been doing this for a while."
She turned her back on him and returned to drying the last few glasses on the rack. He's just another patron tonight. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Maxie, what happened to you?"
Real smooth there May...Christ.
"I could ask the same of you, Miss Maple."
"Touché," she said and turned back around to face him. She wasn't concerned about being overheard – even if they were no one would do a damn thing about it. Not tonight anyway. These poor souls didn't trouble themselves with such trivial things, not when they were busy trying to stay away from the darkest corners of their minds where black thoughts danced like the shimmering shadows cast from the firelight. "I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours."
"Bit cliché isn't it? Telling ones woes to a solitary barkeep."
"Maxie, I used to be the Champion of this entire bloody region and now I'm here. I'm all about the clichés."
"Fair enough I suppose," he sighed and took a swallow of his drink. "What do you want to know?"
"Where have you been all this time?"
"Running, trying to stay under the radar. A lot of cheap hotels, abandon outposts and more than a few nights in the wilds. I don't think I'm in any great danger of being arrested a decade after the fact, but old habits die hard as they say."
"And the rest of Team Magma?"
"Gone their separate ways," Maxie replied with an errant wave of his hand. "Once you calmed down Groudon I had the organization disbanded. Most of them of them of emigrated to other regions, those that remain in Hoenn have gone back to civilian life and kept a low profile."
"...You're all alone."
"Yes, thank you for that kind reminder," he sneered. "And what about you? How did Hoenn's great heroine go from being on the highest pedestal of society to keeping the bar at a cramped little pub at the end of the world?"
"I resigned my commission as Champion four years into my run."
"Why?"
"Because I realized I was living in a gilded cage. I didn't part with the League on good terms – Steven thought I was being selfish, and in all fairness I was, but he didn't even try to understand," she said softly, deftly pulling a bottle of Grey Goose vodka off of the shelf and pouring up a shot. "He's been Champion for so long he's forgotten what real freedom was. I never wanted the fame or the pressure, I wanted the challenge and instead of being rewarded for my talent I was put in shackles. I barely made it to my own parents' funeral because of my duty. Cheers."
The vodka burned as it slid down her throat, but it was a sensation she'd long since grown accustomed to and it still paled in comparison to the discomfort those memories caused. She turned the shot glass upside down and rapped it against the bar before moving it to the tray of dirtied glassware. "Tell me something Maxie – why here, why now?"
"Beg pardon?"
"You know I'm from Little Root, why come within a hundred leagues of this town, and during Christmastime to boot," she pressed. "Why?"
"Coincidence."
"Sure you weren't hoping to run into me? That desperate are we?" she said dryly and her lips twitched into something dangerously close to a sneer. It was cruel, to kick him while he was down like this, but she'd never had the chance to vent her rage at him for all he'd done. When they'd parted ways on Mt. Pyre he'd offered a single, quiet apology before disappearing into the mist leaving her feeling strangely empty at the alter. She'd saved the entire goddamn region from his hubris, spent months cleaning up the mess he'd made and then it was over with a handful of words and the cold damp of the fog rolling amidst moldering tomb stones. It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. "Why are you still here?"
She hadn't intended to put that much venom into her voice and even he seemed surprised by the sheer amount of spite lacing her tone. He narrowed his eyes savagely and downed the rest of the scotch before he rose and wordlessly left, closing the door quietly behind him. Gods, how she wished he'd slammed it.
It should have felt cathartic, treating him with the same acerbity she'd been force fed by him – so why did she feel just as hollow as she had this morning when she came to the sad realization that she was spending Christmas Eve alone, keeping vigil in the most depressing place in the world during the holidays. "Dammit," she hissed and threw down her towel. "Ralph, I'm going – lock up around 3 okay?"
The retiree, a former mariner and patron of the Green Tailow for as along as anyone could remember nodded and held up the spare key that she and Nathan, the owner, had entrusted to him years ago. He'd always been their go to man if one of them needed to dash off for an emergency and as far as she was concerned, this qualified.
She came out from behind the bar, not bothering to put on coat or boots, and dashed out into the cold winter night.
Blasted woman.
Of course, of all the places he'd chosen to take refuge she would be there. The gods had a funny way of damning those who'd angered them and he'd managed to do it in spades apparently. He hadn't even recognized her at first – ten years had certainly worked their strange magic on May Maple. She hadn't gained much by way of height, but her body had grown from that of a child and into the lithe and curving figure of a woman and her face had thinned and matured, framed by long locks of smoky brown hair. Her voice had changed too, it's register had deepened slightly, reflecting the passage of time that was mirrored in the deep wells of her eyes. They were still the same striking shade of azure he remembered, but their depth had became near infinite, taking in the world with such a keen perception it seemed almost preternatural.
He'd expected anger, outrage and immediate expulsion from the bar when she'd revealed herself – certainly not a welcoming glass of scotch and the offer of her story for his. That openness had made him uncomfortable and it certainly didn't help when she'd lashed him with accusations that smacked of the truth beneath her hurt. He knew she lived in the area – why risk the exposure?
He stopped walking and breathed deeply, the cold night air burning his lungs as he tilted his head back to look at the velvet black sky. Despite the dim lights of the pub behind him he could still make out a myriad of stars strewn across the heavens and he silently started picking out the constellations. Back in his youth there had been no pokéNavs to guide their them – he'd learned the old way, how to navigate by sun and stars.
Why are you still here?
A growl rumbled in his throat and he continued walking. She was right of course, damn her. He had no reason to darken her door and he'd be better off haunting the shoddy inn further up the road. He was a broken man, he knew that – his empire had been burned to ashes and he was left standing amidst the ruin with nothing to his name. Legacy...his legacy was one of failure and foolishness...he would've rather no one remembered him at all.
"Maxie! Maxie, wait!"
Oh Christ, why.
He turned and saw her running towards him and barely fought back a sneer. Fool girl had come running after him, her shoulders bare in nothing but her black tank top and her feet clad in the flimsy flats she wore at work. When she finally caught up to him she was breathing hard, her pants causing clouds of mist to rise in the air in front of her.
"Miss Maple -"
"Just hear me out," she said when she'd caught her breath. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that back there."
"It's fi -"
"Don't you dare say it's fine, it's not – it was a bitch move on my part," she said, shaking her head firmly. He was more than a little surprised at the sudden apology. Still, he didn't want to stay in her presence any longer than he had to. Every time she stared him down with that uncanny gaze of hers he was reminded of just how worthless he was. Without another word he turned and started walking away again, but a firm grip on his arm pulled him back around. "Hey I'm not done I -"
He tried pulling away, but she wasn't taking no for an answer and his refusal had apparently raised her ire. She hooked her leg in behind his knees, striking them with a deft kick; as soon as they buckled she pushed hard against his chest. He went down hard on his back, knocking the wind clean out of him. He didn't have much time to catch his breath however, as she sat herself down on top of him, straddling his waist. Her smile was impish.
"I said I wasn't done, it's rude for a gentleman to ignore a lady when she's speaking to him," she sniffed, proving deucedly firm as he tried in vain to push her off of him. "Look, what I said - that was cruel of me. I had no right to judge you – I'm no better –"
"I don't want to hear it!" Maxie growled. She was surprisingly solid for her size, but he had mass on his side and used his greater stature and weight to force them into a roll. Their positions were effectively reversed, but when he tried to rise she grabbed hold of the front of his coat and pulled him back down. He had no way to stabilize himself and ended up stretched out on top of her, though he tried to rest most of his weight on his forearms which were planted into the snow on either side of her narrow shoulders. She let go of his coat, but before he could make another attempt at getting up she curled her arms around his neck, drawing him in close until there was no space between them.
"I have no right to judge you when I'm no better," she murmured into his ear. "I'm no better than any of those lonely sods back there. I've got no one either and I'm just as desperate. I've got the pretence of a job, but I'm there because everyone else has families and friends and I've got nothing. I'm the girl who ran away, the Champion who turned coward. For all my skill, all the work I've done, I've got nothing to show for it."
When she finished she unhooked her arms from around his neck and let them fall to her sides. He moved to rise...he wanted to, he needed to...
So why did he only managed to draw back those few crucial inches until they were nose to nose and he could feel her breath on his face. Why was he moving closer...
She tasted like vodka and peppermint, raw and fiery as her lips moved against his. He nipped at her lower lip, asking permission to enter and she welcomed him eagerly, sliding her tongue against his as she fought him for dominance. That fierceness and her arms around him nearly made him come undone, but it was the low moan from her that jolted him back to reality and he realized what he was doing. He broke off the kiss and pulled back as far as her grip on him would allow. She was smiling, her cheeks flushed and hair splayed around her head like a halo, the ends damp and curling from the melting snow. "Miss Maple – I – I –"
"Oh call me May for god's sake," she huffed, wrinkling her nose in a mischievous grin. "Considering we just made out Miss Maple is a bit formal don't you think?"
"I'm sorry this is -"
"This is what? Wrong? By whose standards?" she laughed. "What are you afraid of, tarnishing my sterling image? Ha, you're late to the party there – and you can't tell me you didn't like it."
She hooked a leg over his hip as she spoke and pressed herself against him. She grinned when she heard him swear violently under his breath. "Maxie, we both have no one to disappoint, no one to worry about and no one to care. Why don't we try not spending Christmas miserable as all holy hell, hm?"
"Just what are you implying here?"
"You and me, spending Christmas together doing – well whatever we want to. Either way, no strings attached."
"That would be wildly inappropriate."
"How so? Last time I checked we were both adults here."
"You don't understand. I've done some terrible things – I am not a good man."
She rolled her eyes. "Do you intend to hurt me?"
"Of course not -"
"Then I fail to see the problem here."
"It's not that simple!"
"Isn't it?" she breathed and pulled him down into another kiss. There was no hesitation this time and her tongue was doing sinful things to his mouth. Oh Christ, he was lost. They broke apart for air, but she kept one hand on the nape of his neck, gently caressing the skin there. He closed his eyes and tried not to let his contentment show. How long had it been since he'd experienced the touch of another human being...He honestly couldn't remember and that scared him. "Maxie please. No one should have to be alone."
"You hardly know me."
"Then let's change that."
"Miss Maple – May," he sighed, correcting himself and cursed inwardly when she smiled. "Why?"
"Because I'm lonely too."
There was such a keen edge of despair in those honest, yet hushed words that they cut him to the bone. He sighed deeply.
"...Alright."
"Good," she said with a soft smile and then giggled. "If you'll let me up, I'll take you home."
He felt heat rise to his face and immediately rose off of her. They'd been on the ground for quite some time and the poor girl's bare arms and thinly clothed back had been pressed into the snow. He helped her up and was shocked to find that she still felt warm to the touch and didn't seem at all bothered by the snow and ice clinging to her person. "I'm sorry, you don't even have a coat -"
"It's fine," she said, waving him off. "I ah, don't really get cold."
He raised an eyebrow at her, but made no comment as she took him by the hand and started leading him down the lane. The brightly lit houses and wreath adorned light poles soon gave way to the darker outskirts of the small village. A long, crushed stone drive curved down into a dense grove of pines and birch, ending at a quaint two-storey house. There was little by way of Christmas decorations though he could make out the multicoloured lights bordering the inside of the bay window that looked into the living room. She unlocked the door and stepped over the threshold into the rainbow-tinged gloom.
Warmth came like a lover's caress as she stepped into the porch.
She looked back at him and he seemed to be hesitating, glancing between her and the winter night behind him. He was weighing his options, she knew that – it was his last chance to turn away and keep to his solitude. If he walked away now she knew she'd never see him again, and for some reason that bothered her. Sighing, she extended a hand towards him. He stared at her hand with what she suddenly realized was fear. After so long being on his own, he had every right to be afraid. She moved a little closer and smiled gently. "Maxie."
The sound of his name seemed to ground him and he carefully accepted her hand, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him with a soft 'click'. When he removed his coat she saw that her suspicions had been well placed – he had lost weight and it pained her to see him looking so thin and frail. This was not the tall, powerful figure of her youth and her heart went out to him. From the living room she could hear a low whine followed by the pattering of clawed paws against the hardwood floor. Her Mightyena and Manectric came trotting towards them, ears perked and tails wagging. The two canines sniffed at the new-comer curiously. The Mightyena backed up almost immediately, ears back and mane bristling – he knew this man's scent and remembered the battles and the threats to his Mistress. The Manectric had no such trepidation and immediately reared onto her hind legs, pawing at Maxie until he rubbed at the course fur under her chin.
"Kella, down," she chuckled and nudged the electric-type away with her foot. The canine huffed and lowered her front end as she stretched, stray parks dancing over her coarse blue and gold fur. She moved over to the Mightyena and rubbed her against against his shoulder, but he kept his ruby gaze fixed firmly on Maxie. May rolled her eyes and bent down to tap him on the muzzle with a stern finger. "Hey, knock it off. He's our guest, so behave yourself, okay Gabriel?"
The Mightyena licked his chops and bobbed his head. He nuzzled Kella and nudged her with his snout urging her back to the living room. May rubbed the back of her neck apologetically. "Sorry about that, he's really protective of his pack."
He seemed mildly amused by her terminology and nodded. "It's fine."
"Really I'm surprised he stayed so calm – he was out when Steven yelled out me once and damn did he ever give him a savage bite for it."
"Clever beast."
May smiled and turned away from him to take off her shoes. She heard him inhale sharply and immediately stood back up. "What?"
"Your back..."
"Oh, I was wondering when you'd notice that. Come on, I'll explain."
She took him by the hand and led him to the living room. This was the only room in the house she'd bothered to decorate, lining the bay window with coloured lights and setting up a small Christmas tree in the back corner, by which Grabiel and Kella lay nestled together sleeping soundly. She sat on the couch and motioned for him to do the same. When he finally did she twisted around so that her back was to him. She pulled her tank top over her head despite his spluttered protest and reached around to unclasp her bra so that he could see the full expanse of her back.
"May – what is this?"
"It was a gift from an old friend of ours."
"Really I'm surprised he stayed so calm – he was out when Steven yelled out me once and damn did he ever give him a savage bite for it."
Maxie was hard pressed not to smile at the mental image of May's Mightyena sinking his angry teeth into Hoenn's beloved Champion. He idly wondered how the pompous boy had handled that situation. May waved her pokémon off and stooped down to remove her shoes. Her long hair slid forward over her shoulders, exposing her neck and the very top of her back. He narrowed his eyes and inhaled sharply – lines, red lines marked the pale flesh there in a disturbingly familiar pattern. She must have heard him gasp because she immediately drew back up to full height and looked at him with wide eyes. "What?"
"Your back..."
"Oh, I was wondering when you'd notice that. Come on, I'll explain."
She led him to the living room and sat down on the couch, waiting for him to do the same. When he finally did so she turned her back towards him and without warning started to remove her shirt. "M-May what are you -"
His words went unheeded as she pulled the garment completely off and then reached back around to unclasp the bra she was wearing (she did look so fetching in red) with embarrassment or hesitation. She kept one arm curled around her front to hold the brassiere in place to protect her modesty, but aside from that the whole of her naked back was exposed to him. A perfect circle emblazoned in red was set in the exact centre of the skin between her shoulder blades and from it three sets of lines jutted out, one straight down her spine and the other two angling out before continuing vertically parallel to the centre line, running down her back and stopping just shy of her tailbone. It was a pattern he was well acquainted with – it had been the symbol that glowed brightly on the red and blue orbs and it had been the same mark that had burned brightly on Groudon's forelimbs. Closer inspection saw that the red lines traced raised skin, as though the whole thing had been applied with great heat like a brand.
"May – what is this?" he whispered hoarsely. He couldn't see her face, but he could tell that she was smiling.
"It was a gift from an old friend of ours."
"You can't mean..."
"Yes," she laughed. "When I finally calmed him down in the Cave of Origins he – well I can't really say spoke to me...I suppose it was his way of communicating. He told me that he saw me as a true friend to the earth and to Groudon. He gave me that mark to prove it."
"So that's why the cold doesn't bother you," he murmured and, acting on impulse, traced one of the lines with his fingertips. Indeed her skin felt extremely warm, almost feverish, particularly around the red lines burned into her flesh. She made a sound that was almost a purr as he continued to run his fingers along the raised lines on her back. "Did it hurt?"
"No, I just remember feeling very – hot. I didn't even realize what he'd done until I showered the next day. Needless to say I was mildly freaked out, though very flattered I'll admit. It's not every day a titan gives you his gratitude."
He moved his hand to her lower back and then, on a whim curled his arm around her bare waist, pulling her towards him until her back was pressed against his chest. He could feel the heat of her through the fabric of his shirt and against his hands and couldn't help but smile – it really was reflective on the endless amount of warmth and compassion she was capable of, even if she didn't like to admit it. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."
"Don't be," she said, leaning back against him. "It was an amazing experience. I was shown things no human has ever seen before – given a perspective of this world that, well it goes beyond words. I – I really wouldn't trade it for anything."
They lapsed into surprisingly companionable silence, despite the fact that she was practically half naked. That fact seemed not to bother her in the slightest, much to his amusement. He supposed that after having her mind laid bare to a god of the earth, the exposure of her physical form seemed somewhat trivial. She settled a hand on his knee and craned her head back to look at him. "Would you like a cup of tea? Or perhaps something stronger?"
"Tea would be lovely."
"Alright, I've got a beautiful Earl Grey I think you'll like," she said, leaning forward and away from him. She looked at him over her shoulder and winked. "Mind doing me back up? I'm starting to spill out over here."
"You know when you say things like that you're not really giving me incentive to put more clothes on you."
"Tea now, potential romping later – aren't you supposed to be a gentleman?"
"But of course," he sniffed with mock haughtiness and did as he was bid, though not without snapping the strap against her back for good measure. That elicited a squeal from her and she smacked his leg playfully. "But even a gentleman can be a dog from time to time."
May laughed at that and pulled her shirt back on as she led him to the kitchen. She filled up the kettle and put it on the stove and switched on the small radio that was wedged into the corner of her counter. Maxie couldn't help but grin as she swayed her hips in time to the sound of 'Jingle Bell Rock' and measured out tea leaves into two diffusers. Smiling...what an unfamiliar thing that had become over the years and yet the vibrant young woman in front of him had drawn more out of him tonight than he'd shown over the past ten years combined. The song ended and quickly melted into the dulcet tones of Bing Cosby's rendition of 'I'll be home for Christmas'. He hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and laying his left hand on her hip. She turned and he used his other hand to grab her left. Completely caught off guard she instinctively put her free hand on his chest as he pulled her into a slow, sweet dance.
When Bing Cosby's voice overtook the jazzy tones of 'Jingle Bell Rock' with his own sweet, melancholy timbre the last thing she expected was Maxie's hand on her waist, pulling into a gentle, swaying dance. She tossed her head back with a laugh before bringing it to rest on his shoulder. "You know, if someone would've told me I was going to be spending Christmas with you, dancing in my kitchen no less, I think I would have had to tell them to fuck off."
"The feeling is mutual, believe me," he replied and she felt the laughter rumbling in his chest. She looked up at him and saw a spark of that old fire smouldering behind his glasses. How did we get here? That answer was obvious. She was lonely, just as he was – but there was something more. He had a level of understanding that no one else did. Not Brendan, not Steven...no, he was the only one who'd come close to experiencing what she had – he was the only one who truly knew what it meant to feel alone. He was practically a stranger and yet it was so easy to follow his lead as they swayed across her kitchen floor, so easy to talk to him and say what was on her mind without a second thought...
I've been waiting for him for a long time...
The realization was as startling as it was heartwarming.
The kettle whistled shrilly behind them and she broke off the dance to tend to it, though he hovered close behind her with a hand on her waist while she did so. She felt her eyes burn and bit her lip to cease its trembling. Had it really been so long since someone had held her so gently and given her such genuine smiles?
Once their tea had steeped she led him back to the living room couch, nestling herself firmly into his side before he could protest – though she doubt he would have when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders without vacillation. The warmth and the tea seemed to be the final straw and she felt the tension leave him as he started to slip into a light doze. Smiling, she set down her teacup and started running her fingers through his fiery mane. He sighed appreciatively and leaned into her touch and she wondered, how long it had been since someone had touched him so gently? She thought about how he must have spent the last ten years living in cold shadows and pressed her lips against his temple. "I'm glad you're here."
Maxie looked at her with tired eyes, but he was smiling. "I am too."
He set down his emptied cup and drew her in for another kiss. Unlike the ones in the snow this one was slow and sweet. She smiled against his lips when she felt his hand stray beneath the back of her shirt. "Trying to get my top off again?"
"No," he replied, his smile altogether devilish as he suddenly slid his hand up her back and with one quick flick, deftly unhooked her bra. "I was trying to do that."
"Right, upstairs – now."
"What, time for bed already?"
"Oh please, if you get any sleep at all tonight you'll be a lucky man."
May wasn't sure if it was the sun slanting through the blinds or the low, grating bark of her Mightyena downstairs that woke her. What she was sure of, however, was that she was quite naked and nestled against the chest of an equally unclothed Maxie. She smiled and nuzzled his neck, trailing her fingers across his chest and the coarse smattering of hair there. Oh, that had been fun. She tried to stretch out her legs a bit and nearly laughed at the delightful soreness the greeted her. It had been a long time since some of those muscles had been put to good use. The movement seemed to wake her companion and his eyes fluttered open, dull with sleep and confusion but quick to sharpen when he realized his current situation. Rather than contentment his first expression was one of panic. "Miss Maple – I – we – I'm sorry - "
"Oh do shut up," she sighed and then cut him off with a kiss. "It's fine, we're fine – everything is fine. More than fine really."
She rather enjoyed the way he closed his eyes to fight back a moan when her hand started to travel further south. Not one to let him off so lightly she nipped at the flesh of his throat, teasing him mercilessly until his eyes flew open with a growl and moved to pin her down on the mattress. "Minx," he said hoarsely. He inhaled deeply and traced a finger over the marks he'd made with his teeth on her neck and shoulder. "You sure you're alright?"
"Yes you foolish man," she huffed and draped her arms over his shoulders. "Now, I would very much like to take a shower...and you're welcome to join me."
"Christ, you are trying to kill me aren't you."
"Call it your Christmas present – want me to get the ribbon?" she laughed and kissed the tip of his nose. He responded by reversing their positions so that she was on top of him. She sat up unabashedly, if not proudly, as she straddled his waist. "So what are your plans for New Years hm?"
"Where ever you are."
His reply was so soft and honest that there was nothing she could do, but lean down and meet him in another kiss. At least this way he wouldn't see the tears that threatened to spill over. "You know what," she said. "I think is the best Christmas I've had in a very long time."
"Indeed, perhaps...perhaps we might make a tradition of it."
"Oh no," she said, shaking her head firmly but there was a smile on her face. "I'm not letting you out of my bloody sight."
"Hmm, that's a bit presumptuous isn't it?"
"Is it?"
"No," he replied as she moved to settle herself into his arms again. Wrapped up in his warmth she started to drift off again until she heard him murmurer. "May...thank you."
"For what?" she asked drowsily and felt him trace the lines on her back again.
"I – for everything. I don't know where I would be, where I would be going if I hadn't met you last night."
She looked up at him and brought a hand up to rest on his cheek, tracing the sharp lines of his bone structure with her thumb. "...You saved me too."
He kissed her, deeply and passionately, and May couldn't help but smile. Two lost and lonely souls reunited on Christmas – it was cliché as all hell, but like she told him before she was all about clichés...especially when they involved a happy ending for once.
"Merry Christmas Maxie."
"Merry Christmas May."
Island Wolf: Sweet Christ that ended up being a lot longer and far more angsty than I'd originally intended! Still, I'm fairly pleased with it – it's something different than the cheesy crap I'd originally had planned haha. I hope ya'll liked it! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everybody :)