She wakes up because she hears a loud thud and some rattling from the living room.

Her initial thought is to roll over and slap Lyon to get him out of bed to see what the ruckus is – she's really bad about getting up without a full night's sleep, and it's only two in the morning – but her hand connects with the mattress instead of the cool body of her lover. Meredy blinks a few times to really register Lyon's absence; sleep still clouding her gaze, she sits up, clutching the covers to keep them from falling into her lap.

"…Lyon?"

She tenses up at the sound of shuffling from the other room, as though an answer to her question. Lyon always stays tucked up against her – the damn man will cling – so the fact that he's gotten up and left her in bed without even a warning is something almost suspicious.

Meredy throws the covers to the side and slips out of bed, bare feet tentatively coming in contact with the carpet. The cool air prompts Goosebumps to rise over her skin, and she hugs herself, hands sliding up and down her arms for warm friction.

"Lyon?"

Her pink hair a complete ruffled mess around her shoulders, Meredy begins to make her way to the bedroom door just barely cracked open, her arms tightening around herself – because a simple bra and panties isn't going to keep her warm in this cold apartment. She nudges it open with the tips of her toes and barely catches a glimpse of something red and white moving around.

With light steps, she pads down the short length of hallway and stops. Familiar tufts of white hair peek out from beneath the lining of the red hat atop his head, and Meredy blinks once or twice as she watches Lyon crouch to the ground and push a little box within the branches of their glowing Christmas tree. She leans against the wall, arms still crossed, a soft smile forming across her lips.

She admires him from her spot, eyes droopy with sleep. His movements are so languid as he glides from one side of the living room to the next, adjusting decorations and presents, occasionally pausing to take a sip of some steaming drink from the aqua textured mug she'd gotten him a few months before. It causes warmth to bubble in her chest.

Meredy really has no idea what possessed him to wear such brilliant red robes like the jolly ol' fat man of Christmas, and she's impressed with how well they look on him. The pale of his skin stands out, and the white of his hair almost blends with the lower, fluffy lining of the red hat, the top of it folded down over the left side of his head as the little white ball bounces against his ear with his movements.

Lyon hums some tune that she knows she recognizes as a favorite song of hers, and Meredy shows her teeth in a drowsy smile. He catches her in that moment, the mug clutched tight in his hand as he swivels on his heel to head towards the kitchen, only to see the shivering girl standing half-naked in the hallway. A spark of mischief lights up the dark color of his eyes as he brings the mug up to his quirked lips and takes a small sip, eyeing her.

"Hi," she chirps, waving almost bashfully. Her cheeks dust a faint rose when she notices how the velvety robes hang open just enough to expose his chest and guild mark.

"Hey." He grins, one arm wrapped around his own waist as his hand rests on his hip, the other keeping the mug by his face. "You're up early."

"Ha, ha," the pinkette grinds out, knowing that he's only teasing her; he knows better than anyone how grouchy she can be when she's woken up. She squints, looking past him to the Christmas tree. "What are you doing?"

"I was setting up a surprise for my girlfriend."

A few sleepy giggles pass through Meredy's lips. "And you're stopping because she caught you?"

"Well, it's not like it's so much of a surprise anymore." Lyon leans over to the side table next to the sofa, placing the mug down with a little clack. Then, he looks back to her and starts pulling on the rich red sash tied loosely around his waist. "You look cold."

"I am."

"Then come over here."

Meredy obeys, arms still folded across her chest as she crosses the room to her lover. When she's within arm's reach, Lyon opens up his robe wide, and she casts a brief glance down low to confirm that he's still wearing his cerulean boxers – a really nice color on him, in her opinion, though now, she's decided that red is her favorite to see on him.

In contrast to his magic, Lyon is extremely warm. He invites her into his embrace, the soft robe enveloping her close against his chest as he circles his arms around her waist. She doesn't move in for a kiss, instead pressing her cheek to his chest as her cold hands hover over his hips, her small frame flush against his more muscular form. She catches the smell of hot cocoa on his breath as his chin rests on her shoulder, his face turned towards hers so his lips brush the cool skin of her cheek.

Lyon's hands are pressed to the small of her back, his fingers brushing over the pink lace of her underwear as he clutches her close. He notes the way shivers don't wrack her body like they had before. "Better?"

She hums in acknowledgement.

"Good," he replies, swaying from side to side with her in his arms. "If you'd stayed in bed, you wouldn't have been cold."

"You expect me to not investigate when I hear some loud noise?"

"That was just me."

"Well, I know that now." The pout in her voice is evident. She closes her eyes slowly, warming hands smoothing over his lower abdomen. Earlier, he mentioned a surprise. Her face contorts into an expression of confusion, lips pushed out and eyebrows raised. "What was that surprise?"

Lyon chuckles, pulling away from her; his hands move to her hips as he fingers the lace on her underwear absentmindedly. Meredy shivers from the cool air hitting her back now that the soft fabric is only by her sides. "You can't wait until morning, Sprinkles?"

"You said it wasn't a surprise anymore," she points out, ignoring the irksome nickname.

"This was the surprise, impatient girl." His words are spoken in a feigned scolding tone, and that only triggers further bewilderment for Meredy.

"What do you mean?"

"That one Christmas song you've been singing all season," he explains, his voice a quiet murmur right next to her ear. "I supposed the lyrics might mean something to you."

Something clicks; she knows exactly the one he's talking about, the tune he was humming earlier. "Lyon, I swear to God, if you literally went and bought me all of that–"

Lyon quickly silences her by placing a finger to her lips, whispering, "Silly girl." Her eyes narrow, but he knows she isn't mad. He flashes a quick smile – not one of those arrogant smirks he always shows around Gray, but a genuinely loving show of his teeth, and it's everything she has to keep from leaning up and claiming those lips in a kiss. "You can see how far I went. I only bought this outfit because I thought you might like it." And damn, she really does. "I don't have the money to get you all of those expensive gifts – and believe me, if I did, I would in a heartbeat."

Her nose wrinkles, and she fights the urge to yawn. "You dressed up like Santa because you heard me singing a song a few times in the shower?"

"Actually, I caught you dancing to it while you were getting dressed."

Her face flushes to a light pink as she recalls that exact moment he's bringing back to her mind. Raspberry-scented hair clinging to her shoulders and droplets of water running down her face, she had been pulling on her clothes in the pauses of the lyrics of her favorite Christmas song – and she had sung it with a flirty tone that she doesn't think anyone has ever heard except herself and Ultear, but that had also been an accident.

Noticing her embarrassment, Lyon teases, "Doors are invented for a reason, you know. You left it wide open. It's neat to see from a distance how well you can move your hips."

She does her best to pass off her humiliation with a simple, "Creep."

"I'm not a creep!" he insists, and a wicked grin curves his lips as he turns his hand to cup her cheek, finger curling beneath her chin. "I've been a very good boy this year, and you know it." His free hand gives her hip a suggestive squeeze as he slips his index finger into the band of her panties. "How about we let Christmas come early this year?"

Eyes narrowed up at him, she puffs her cheeks. The red hat is falling down his forehead – it's clearly too big for him, and seeing how it falls lopsided on his head, she thinks he's probably the cutest person in the world. Noting his velvet robes, she snaps a clever retort of, "Santa doesn't get presents."

"Lyon does," he answers quickly.

She gives a slight shake of her head, her lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile. "Not when he wakes Meredy up in the middle of the night and nearly scares her to death."

He leans closer to her; his breath mixes with hers as their lips near. But he doesn't quite kiss her, instead bumping his nose against the pinkette's as he looks into her eyes. He murmurs a husky promise. "Lyon will make it up to her if she gives him the chance."

Meredy ripostes with feigned bitterness, "She'd rather sleep."

Lyon's eyebrow quirks upward in a challenge. "She'll be sleeping until noon when he's done with her."

Their third-person teases come to an abrupt halt; Meredy knows that if they indulge in each other tonight, they'll both sleep well past noon because damn, that ice mage knows how to really wear her down. She shakes her head again, and he moves his hand from her cheek to her shoulder as she states matter-of-factly, "We can't do that. We have plans with Gray and Juvia tomorrow."

The mention of the other couple puts a damper on the mood for Lyon right away, and he mutters, "…Right."

Meredy lifts her hands to his robe and gives it a little tug in a gentle attempt to pry him from unhappy thoughts and bring his focus back to her. After all, this is Christmas Eve, and they still have the night to savor together – however, they know they shouldn't spend it with tangled limbs, damp skin, and muffled cries. Her voice is drowsily wistful. "I want to go to sleep now, Lyon."

"Fine." He can't turn her down when she has that tone, when she's looking up at him with a glimmer in her crimson eyes. He shrugs the robe off, letting it slide down his arms. "I guess you want me to go to bed with you, huh?

Meredy tilts her head as he slings the robe around her shoulders, his hand sweeping against the back of her neck and freeing the long, wavy hair that had been trapped between her back and the robe. "What kind of question is that? Of course I do."

Humming, Lyon places a hand on her head, ruffling her hair and threading his fingers through the silky locks. "I guess waking you up first thing in the morning to open presents is out of the question?" he prompts softly.

Meredy huffs, clutching the robe together to keep it from sliding off her shoulders. The warmth of his body lingers on the fabric. "Well, maybe if you wake up early enough, you can," she agrees, knowing that with as late as it is now, he probably won't be up at the crack of dawn this time.

"I have your permission, then?" he asks.

"Only if you're gentle about it."

"Good. Because I'm not sure I can keep some of your gifts to myself for much longer, not when you give me that look." His hand curls along her cheeks, fingers curving beneath her chin to tilt her head up so he can meet her puzzled gaze. "I got you something you really deserve," he hints. "You've been an awful good girl, after all." She doesn't miss the purr in his voice, and a warm tingle shoots up the length of her spine.

She perks up. "What is it?"

"You'll see tomorrow," he tells her, sliding an arm around her shoulders; he begins to lead her back in the direction of their bedroom in an attempt to show closure on the subject. And he knows her; that isn't going to be enough to keep that stubborn pinkette from harassing him about it if she's really that curious.

"But I want to know now!" she insists loudly, and the ice mage scoops her up into his arms without saying a single word. Meredy protests by tugging on his bangs that hang from beneath his Santa hat, but he remains unfazed, only chuckling in amusement. "Lyon, put me down! H-Hey! No fair!"

"I thought you wanted to sleep," he murmurs, unceremoniously dropping her on the bed.

Meredy squeaks in protest, squirming against him when he slips in beside her and circles his arms around her to prevent her from hopping up and running back to the tree. "I'm wide awake now! I want to know what it is!" Really, when Lyon promises to treat her, he always goes overboard, so she can only look forward to whatever is he's plotting.

"Wait until tomorrow, Sprinkles."

Santa baby,
Forgot to mention one little thing,
A ring,
I don't mean on the phone


Notes about the Fic.
-It's meh, sorry.
-Don't even ask about the "Sprinkles" nickname. It was determined in RP. But I think it's cute as hell, so it's kinda my thing when it comes to Lyredy.
-My favorite version of "Santa Baby" is Kellie Pickler's, because her voice matches the song so well.
-Lyon got her the ring and plans on proposing to her in the morning.
-The line "She wakes up because she hears a loud thud and some rattling from the living room" is actually Lyon getting his robe caught on the Christmas tree and knocking it over (because that's totally something that little fail-whale would do) but I just never wrote that explanation in there because I couldn't find room for it.
-Please check the poll on my profile, where I have listed a few of my favorite crack ships! I want to see which of those others prefer.
-Reviews are much appreciated! Thank you very much for reading!

Merry Christmas Eve!

(:Mizune