Disclaimer: I don't own the Justice League or any of the characters-
Hawkin: and I think we can all agree that's for the best…
*Let it Snow*
Now what was it? J'onn stirred and looked at the clock. 12:00; of course; they still weren't asleep. He was so sick and tired of this. All they ever thought about, all day and most of the night was the other. Was it not enough that they were losing sleep over this? Did they have to make him suffer with them too? Apparently. Even he needed sleep once in a while. If it were up to him, he would haul the both of them off and make them start talking, or better yet, tell everything himself. But he wouldn't let him. Honestly; that guy wasn't even on the Watchtower half the time, and he was the one who caused the most trouble to him. Speaking of which, whenever he was up here, he and that other girl would join the brooding of the two annoying ones, and he would get noting but splitting headaches. But what was this? Something was different tonight. That feeling of love was so strong, he couldn't bare it.
It must have to do with earlier. That's another thing I need to remember to thank the Joker about. So, they finally let the, how do they say it? 'Cat out of the bag?' Makes no sense whatsoever to me, but at least they know now. This, unfortunately, can only result in two ways; one: the all night all day broodings would finally cease, or two: this would only make them think of each other even more. Now if that winged freak would hurry up with his confession, and little Mr. Boy Scout spent more time on earth and less time up here worrying…
"It's about time." J'onn sighed. "Now where did I put that aspirin...?"
*********************
A dream. He thought. This has to be a dream. Nothing this good could be real. I did not just spend the evening with the one I truly love. I couldn't have. It was just a dream. The beautiful snow, circling that beautiful figure. Nothing can go wrong. Nothing could possibly go wrong at a time like this. Not possible; simply not possible. The last time I remember feeling like this was the first time I ever saw the snow; that beautiful mass of perfection. At least I thought it was perfection. Now I know what perfection is; it's beautiful, not one flaw, and it starts with an 'S'-
**************************
He groaned slightly. What the heck was that poking him? He slowly opened his eyes to see a face hovering over his own.
"You might want to get going," it said. "It gets a bit rough around here when it gets dark, and you and your girlfriend have had a rough night, considering your species."
"Thanks," John replied to him. "I hope that blow Hawkgirl gave you wasn't too bad."
The creature chuckled. "I've had worse happen, trust me. All in the Spirit, you know. But like I said, you and your girlfriend need to get going." He turned to go.
"You're right; the others must be back by now, and if we're not there- wait, she's not- I mean- we're not- what I'm trying to say is-" John grunted and tried to lift himself so that he could see the creature's retreating form, but found there was a heavy weight on his left side. He looked around and his breath caught. There she was, curled up beside him, one hand gripping his arm tightly. Her hair was mused from the fighting, and her cheeks still held a slight touch of color, though her breathing was calm and regular. He noticed that he had unconsciously been holding onto her just as tightly.
"You were saying?" the creature chuckled. John turned an interesting shade of maroon.
Sighing, he tried to get up without waking her. After getting to his feet, he made his way outside. He hesitated; he felt like he had forgotten something….
"Wait!" cried a voice. John turned. There was a small, lizard looking alien, barely up to his waist, waddling like a penguin up to him holding something securely.
"I think she might be wanting this," he smiled as he handed it to John.
"Thanks," John grinned back. "I would hate to find out what would happen if I forgot this."
The little alien bobbed his head and smirked. "Yeah; you'd end up sleeping on the couch? Don't worry," he added, taking the look on John's face the wrong way. "It happens to all of us once in a while; the trick it to make it up to her. Get her something she's been eyeing for a while, that you said you thought was a waste of time, energy, and money. You'll be back in so fast, you won't ever miss it, and it always makes everything," here he paused and showed all of his small, pointy teeth, "twice as nice." John turned another shade of maroon. He decided to simply shake off what the alien had said.
Might as well play along he thought to himself. Creating a life support around himself and Hawkgirl, he turned the alien and nodded slightly. "Thanks for the advice."
"Anytime," the small, purple skinned alien smiled wickedly again.
*************************
"Hello?" echoed throughout the halls. "Of course," he cursed himself. Everybody had gone anywhere but here for the holidays. Retreating to the wing that was set away from almost everything else that held only his and Hawkgirl's rooms, he gently set her on her bed after opening the locked door with his ring.
So beautiful; so perfect was the only thing through his mind as he watched her sleep. She was a really heavy sleeper; she'd barely stirred during the entire trip, which was not a short one. He slowly removed the mask. She's would kill me if she woke up and I was in her room… he thought, though somehow he knew that tonight, even if she did wake up, she would have no objections whatsoever. Looking around the room, he noticed that something lying on a chair as though it had been set out to be worn that night. He smiled when he realized what it was: one of the few old Marine T-shirts he had given her to replace various nightgowns that Flash had destroyed when it was his turn to do the laundry. Of course, John was sensible enough to take his clothes back to earth during this time; Hawkgirl didn't have this same advantage, and though many of them were of greater sentimental value to her than their dollar value (which was quite expensive), Hawkgirl would never admit that those shirts from John meant more to her than most of the stuff she had brought from Thangar with her. But, she had learned her lesson; when it was Flash's turns nowadays, John ended up tugging Shayera's clothing as well as his, and, just so the others wouldn't start thinking something was going in between them while they were hidden away from them in their lone wing, she never let any of them see her in one of John's shirts (after all, how were they supposed to know what did and didn't go on in John and Shayera's wing? There were no cameras in their wing, so there was no way for them to).
As he moved to retrieve the shirt from the chair, he stepped on a small locket. Obviously, it was Hawkgirl's. It looked as if someone had tried to destroy it. Managing to untangle the mess of metal ( really, it was gold; solid gold). He gazed at the beaten picture inside that was barely recognizable. It looked like a younger Hawkgirl, standing beside a man who was only a few years older than her as far as he could tell. Both faces were covered with masks, but the man's face was clearly shining with happiness, and although she was smiling in the picture, Shayera's eyes didn't reflect happiness. On the back, he could barely make out the inscription: Love lasts forever, and that is how long you have mine- Katar. John glanced at the bed. Could this be what she had been so upset about that night?
He shrugged and placed it on her nightstand. John doubted he would live to see another day should he mess with something of Shayera's without her permission…then again, as much as they fought, which was basically whenever they were in the same room and the rest of the team was around, no matter how much she threatened him, never once had she carried out even one. Not even before the Joker's little TV show. John smiled at the memory of what had happened afterwards.
Turning, he watched as Shayera continued to sleep peacefully. But John frowned. He was trying to decide whether make the trip back home, or to stay on the Watchtower. To buy more time, he put away the T-shirt and got out another nightgown. He doubted she would take kindly to him changing her into one of his t-shirts. Carefully, so as not to wake her, (especially right now), he slipped off her uniform and slipped on the thin, green, silk night gown. Shayera continued to dream.
John pulled the cover over her, a smile playing on his lips, his eyes twinkling. To him, he had never seen anything more beautiful than Shayera at that moment in the entire world, lying under the silk sheets, the moonlight shining in, lighting her beautiful face; her long, red hair that streamed around her head like a troubled sea. John would have been quite content to stand there and watch her just lie there and dream, sleep, all day and all night. He picked up her hand from underneath the covers and gave it a delicate kiss. A small smile twitched on her lips, then John placed her hand back and turned to leave.
As he reached the door, just as he was about to open it, he stopped. He didn't even have to turn around; he knew that she had stirred. That decides it, then he thought. He walked out of her room and to his own. A short while later, he reappeared in the doorway in a pair of sweat pants, snug at the waist and holding a pillow and some blankets. He didn't bother locking the door; no one else was up here, after all, and even if they were, unless it was the most extreme of emergencies, no one could get into their wing; not that anyone would try, considering how John and Shayera would deal with them if they did.
Placing the pillow on the floor, he cast one more glance at Shayera who was now sitting up in the bed, just as she had been when he was getting ready to leave. She smiled. "Good night, G.L."
"Good night, Hawkgirl." He lay down, pulled the cover up, and drifted into an uneasy sleep.
************
John woke with a start. He had been having a bad dream, true, but that wasn't what had wakened him up. He immediately got up and went over to Shayera's bed. She was twisting and turning in her sleep, muttering about refusing to betray her friends, not for whoever was in the dream, not for anyone, especially, at least, this is what John thought he heard, her love. He stared at her, forgetting about the fact that she was having a bad dream, and focusing on exactly what she was dreaming about.
"Not…..no….not him….not John, Katar,…I would never....I couldn't ……..more than life itself……" she continued to toss and turn.
John snapped back and climbed on the bed beside her. He took her in his lap, holding her head to his bare chest. "It's all right, Shay, its ok. Nothing's wrong, nothing's going to happen to you, promise." Snapping her eyes open, she looked up to see John's, full of concern, looking back at her.
He didn't even have to ask; they rarely had to say anything at all, yet they always knew what was bothering the other, what they were feeling, what they wanted to say. She snuggled closer to him. "I'm fine. Just a bad dream." John's eyes still held a bit of concern, but he nodded. However, he continued to hold onto Shayera, keeping her small form close to him. She laid her head back in his chest and closed her eyes, feeling strangely safe and secure just to know he was in the Watchtower with her.
"Nothing's going to happen to you, Shay, I promise." He kissed the top of her head.
After a moment's pause, he added gravely, "I won't let it."
*****************
John sighed. The hot shower felt good on his face. He climbed out and wrapped a towel around his waist, then slowly walked back to his bedroom. He put on slacks and a sweater, then, finished packing some of his clothes. He stopped suddenly, an idea occurring to him, and sprinted out of the room to Shayera's.
"Hey, Hawkgirl!" he ran in, out of breathe despite the fact that her room wasn't that far from his.
She looked up from where she was sitting over something, intent on whatever it was she was doing. He thought he's heard her talking, so she must have been talking to someone…who made her upset because her eyes were slightly bleary. She quickly wiped them so John wouldn't see them.
"Look, I know this is your first Christmas and everything, and that you usually wouldn't celebrate it at all, but come on! It's Christmas Eve! I can't let you stay here by yourself!" John breathed so fast, it would have put Flash to shame. He then put on a pleading face and got on his knees, crawling towards her. "Please? You can come with me and celebrate. I usually celebrate with a few old friends and Flash, but how about just you and me celebrate? We can trim the tree and sing and-"
Shayera laughed. She had never seen John like this before, unless you counted yesterday on the Ice Planet when he made that snow angel and was rolling around in the snow like a little kid. "But, I thought yesterday was Christmas Eve…?" she asked, purposely getting him upset.
"It doesn't matter! The Ice Planet's ahead of us, today is Christmas Eve on Earth, but it still doesn't matter! Oh, come on! Please, please, I won't have a good Christmas if you're up here all alone instead of with me so that we can be all alone together." The way John looked, Shayera was starting to wonder if he would be above whimpering and whining like Flash.
She raised an eyebrow to this remark. "Ok, who are you, and what have you done with the real Green Lantern? You sound like Flash."
"What? What are you talking about? I don't sound anything remotely like that big, whining baby! Honestly, he jokes about any and everything-"
"You know perfectly well that you never act like this, and if we so much as stand in the same room, all we do is argue."
John stopped his façade for a minute. "You know that that's fake and that it's only for Batman, and Wonder Woman, and Flash and J'onn, and-"
"J'onn?"
John's face lit up with a soft smile. "Ok, maybe not him. But how do I sound like Flash?"
"And I quote 'I won't have a good Christmas if you're up here all alone instead of with me so that we can be all alone together'?"
He took a minute to think about what she meant by that….and what she could've meant by that. "You are a sick and twisted individual," he grinned.
She laughed. "Will you promise to go back to being the stiff, arrogant, drill sergeant, Mr. I'm-better-than-you, in pompous jerk, everything-has-to-be-perfect-because-I-said-so, busy body we all know as Green Lantern?"
John saluted the laughing Hawkgirl. "Oh, all right. I guess I do need a vacation." Before she could get the words out of her mouth, John grabbed her up in a hug.
"Thanks, Hawkgirl; you don't know how much this means to me."
"Just one thing," Hawkgirl interrupted him.
"Yeah?" he asked, his face buried in her hair.
"What's with the clothes?"
John let her go and looked down at his shirt. "What's wrong with my clothes?"
Shayera shook her head. "No, it has nothing to do with the way you look. Actually you look kinda nice… for you, that is." John gave a fake frown. "I was just wondering why you were wearing civilian clothes instead of your uniform."
John smiled that smile that Shayera loved so much. "It is the holidays, and we are on vacation, so I have no intention of walking around in my uniform. Plus, this is one of my favorite sweaters; don't you like?" He then turned and struck various poses, causing Shayera giggle uncharacteristically.
"Oh, I get it. Just one more thing; I don't have any."
John stopped his interpretation of a model, and slapped his head. "How dumb can I possibly get? Come on, we've got two choices: raid Wonder Woman's closet-"
"And have her beat your head in."
"Or, I can give you your Christmas present," and before she could protest, John was dragging Shayera after him. He went to his dresser and opened the bottom drawer. Under a pile of neatly folded and stacked clothes, he pulled out a large package in bright green wrapping paper with beautiful birds of every kind on it. Shayera's mouth opened in astonishment.
"John, I-"
He pushed the package at her. "Come on, it's one of my gifts to you. I want to have it. Unless you plan on going gallivanting around in your uniform. Besides, this is only the first present for you."
Shayera took the package hesitantly. "But I didn't get anything for you."
"Coming with me back home to celebrate the holidays is already the best present you could give me," he reassured her with a smile.
**********************
John touched down on the roof of his apartment building, letting the life support around him extinguish. Hawkgirl stood beside him, the bags containing a few things from his room on the Watch tower as well as most of Shayera's Christmas gift clothes. He trailed it along behind him in a green bubble as he trod down the steps, Shayera falling in step right beside him. Down they went until they reached John's floor. He stopped at the door and inserted the key in the lock.
"Hey, GL, has your apartment become any neater than the last time I was here; that is if it's possible?" Shayera grinned.
"Har de har har," John rolled his eyes. "As a matter of fact, yeah; you going to do something about it? Besides, we're just stopping here to get a few things, then we're going to my grandma's old place. It's where I always spend the holidays." John retreated to his room and returned a few seconds later. "All right, let's go."
"How are we going? Are we flying?" Shayera was not pleased at the look on John's face. He walked towards the door and took a set of keys from a peg.
"We're driving."
*************
"You can stay here in the guest room," John told Shayera as he opened the door to an extravagantly decorated bedroom "I'll uh-I'll help you get settled in." He then proceeded to take the remainder of the clothes and help her put them in the dresser, filling three of the drawers. He stepped back to the doorway and rubbed his hands together nervously.
"So, um,- yeah- so, how about we go get the Christmas tree, decorate it, sing carols, and have Christmas Eve dinner? That sound like a nice plan to you?" he asked in a voice that seemed just a tad too high to belong to him. Shayera barely seemed to notice, however; she was looking a picture on the nightstand.
"What's this?" she asked, gingerly picking it up. There was a man standing in a suit, his arms around a slender woman. Both had midnight black hair, the man cut close to the scalp at the sides and back, the woman's flowing gracefully past her shoulders. The man's eyes were dark as coal, but filled with warmth, just as the woman's deep, chocolate brown colored ones. Standing between them was a small boy who looked to be maybe 10 years old. All of his hair was cut close to the scalp; he had an earring in his right ear and two in his left. He, too, was dressed in a dark blue suit, his chocolate brown eyes a perfect copy of the woman's. His face was completely carefree, as if he knew the least of inconveniences in the world. His smile revealed a perfect set of sparkling white teeth, and on his right ring finger was a gold band, gleaming in the light. They were standing in front of a large, beautifully decorated Christmas tree set in a living room that looked suspiciously like the one downstairs.
John walked over to inspect it. Something in his eyes brightened. "That's- that's a picture of my parents when they were alive." He traced the face of the woman.
Shayera gently laid one comforting hand on his arm. She reached up and brushed his cheek with the back of her other hand. John reached and grasped the hand with the hand that wasn't holding onto the frame. He closed his eyes and brought her hand down to his lips, kissing it. He opened his eyes to see Shayera, her eyes wet, gazing up at him.
"This was the last picture we ever took together. I remember it like it was yesterday; we had just gotten in. We always came the night before Christmas Eve and leave the day after Christmas. I loved it here, because the snow would be up to my chest, and I could play in it all I want, and I never had to shovel it. In the back, my grandma's land stretched for a long while back, and there were so many hills, and woods; it was a maze back there, and I loved it." John stopped and smiled. "Believe it or not, I wasn't lying when I told you my grandmother taught me how to snow board; got me out there when I could barely walk. My mom and dad thought it was funny as heck. I learned how to get around unnoticed from my grandmother out there in the woods playing games every time we came. We used to get the Christmas tree from that forest every single year; we chopped it down ourselves and hauled it back to the house. I had always 'helped' take it back, my folks letting me help carry a little bit more weight each year; made me a heck of a lot stronger than the other boys, and gave me a lot more stamina, too. My mom and my grandma would start cooking as soon as we finished putting up the tree and decorating it, singing Christmas carols all the time. You couldn't walk through the front door before the aroma reached your nose. They cooked so much, we'd have enough food left to last into the New Year." John's voice hitched. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were shining with unshed tears. "That year, my father let me chop most of the tree; I was so proud over that little accomplishment. My mom let me have a few extra sweets when we got back in. It was still relatively early, and my parents had forgotten to pick up pone of my presents. It was this neat little rifle that every kid wanted and no kid was allowed. I-I begged them to go get it; I wanted to show off in front of the others, shove it in their face; they're parents were so superficial, they actually watched G movies before they let them see it. Every last one of them was a prick. They always messed with me, just because I was stronger than they thought I had a right to be; because I was allowed to do just about anything I very well pleased; just because I wasn't white." John narrowed his eyes. "It was my fault; I just had to have that rifle; I wouldn't' let it rest until it was lying under the Christmas tree in plain view. I wanted so much to be better than they were; I didn't realize that until that moment, I was. I didn't look down on others because of what they could and couldn't do; I never looked down on others because of the things they believed; I never once called anyone one name because of the way they did things; I never used others to get what I wanted, bluntly disregarding the way they felt just to please myself; at least until then. I pushed and pushed until they left to go to the store. I knew exactly how long it took to get there and back; just over an hour. I stayed home with my grandmother, helping her cook the pies. One hour passed, then two, then three. To make a long story short-"
Shayera interrupted him b pressing her hand on his arm. "I want to know what happened, if you want to talk about it; I don't want you to carry this weight around on your chest."
John sighed. "Maybe I can tell you later, but- a few kids got their hands on some guns, held up the store, shot some of the hostages. Most of the ones shot died instantly. My parents weren't dead; yet. They were in the ICU at the hospital. When it finally registered, I stood there, so shaken up and shocked, I couldn't even cry. I couldn't cry the entire time we stayed up there at the hospital once they were released from ICU; I went to the hospital early in the morning and stayed all day, not getting a wink of sleep; came back late, didn't get a wink of sleep; went to the hospital early in the morning, and sat their beside my parent's beds, still too dumbstruck to say anything. We were in and out all the way into New Year. We watched the countdown in the hospital, in their room, and when it reached zero, just when everyone else was saying 'Happy New Year'…- my-my mom turned to me and she told me to come over to her so she could tell me something. She-she held my hand and slipped a small cross in it and she-she told me- she told me to always keep my faith," there were so many tears in John's eyes, they were threatening to brim over any minute. "Then, she hugged me and she whispered in my ear, 'Good-bye, my dear Jonathan." And I took her off of me and I looked in her eyes; her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes were bluer than the sky. I knew something was wrong without looking in her eyes; my parents never called me Jonathan; no one did. Then she closed them and--….she didn't open them again. I panicked; I ran to my dad and told him to wake up mom, but he just gazed at me with slate gray eyes, and he said, 'Always listen to your grandmother, Jonathan," and he dropped his college ring, the one he never let out of his sight, into my palm, and he gave me a smile, and-he-he-he closed his eyes too. My grandmother was in the cafeteria because I asked her to stay there for a while, so I was all alone in the room with my parents for five whole minutes. And I sat in the corner and all the tears that wouldn't come before wouldn't stop pouring then." John reached into his shirt and pulled out a chain. On the chain was a golden band, as well as a gorgeous ring set with a sapphire and something engraved on the band. In between the two was a small cross, set with brilliant diamonds. Shayera gasped at their beauty. Then, she grasped him in a hug.
"I'm so sorry I had to make you tell me that; that must have been as bad for you as Grundy's death was for me. I'm sorry," she murmured into his chest. He stroked her hair.
"It's all right," he told her, tears streaming down his face and into her hair. "Hey, how about we go get that Christmas tree now?"
**********************
Jingle bells
Jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh hey!
Jingle bells
Jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh hey!
Dashing through the snow
In a one-horse open sleigh
Over the fields we go
Laughing all the way!
Bells about to ring
Making spirits rise
What fun it is to ride and sing a sleighing song tonight!
Oh!
Jing-
John abruptly stopped to stare at the open mouth, staring Shayera.
"What?" he asked as he put on the last decoration.
"I never knew you sang," Shayera laughed. John's cheeks darkened. He then got an idea.
"How about after dinner, I show you what else I can do?"
Shayera gazed at him. "Are you hitting on me?"
John laughed deeply. "No, I was just going to show you how well I cook!"
"You have really got to watch out for those broad sentences, Johnny-boy; certain people could take the wrong meaning," Shayera shook her head as John contemplated what she was saying. He grinned again.
"You know what I think? I think that maybe you had a drink too many."
Shayera pouted. "I haven't had anything to drink yet, and you know it!"
"Of course, that's why little Miss Tough is pouting. Come on, let's just eat, then I can do some more singing to you." He made a majestic bow as he hoped down and offered her his arm which she took. Then, they both walked to the dining room.
********************
Shayera could say nothing. Here was Mr. Military, the guy who took everything too seriously and had probably never laughed in his entire life, eyes closed, smile on his lips, his hands flying over the piano keys as he made a beautiful sound swell up from it. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, convinced that things couldn't get any better, when John's voice suddenly sounded out of no where. Her heart melted as she listened to him singing.
Let it snow
Let it snow
Let it snow
Let it snow
Hey, it's another Christmas holiday
It's a joyous thing, let the angels sing
'Cause we're together
We got a thing we can't let slip away
Outside it's raining sleet
When our bodies meet
I don't care about the weather
Let it snow
Let is snow
Outside it's cold, but the fire's blazin'
So baby let it snow
Let it snow
John was slightly amazed that he was actually singing. He couldn't remember the last time he had sung before tonight, or played the piano; they were both habits he'd let slip away. His heart skipped a beat when he felt Shayera lean on him. He took a breath and continued singing the song he had always loved, even as a kid.
Oh, come over here and help me trim the tree
I want to wrap you up, baby then you'll
You're the only present that I need
There's so much
Waiting for you in store
From this precious day
I can gladly say
There's no place that I'd rather be
Girl, you are my everything, come over here
God must have sent you down from heaven
Let it snow
Let it snow
Let is snow
Let it snow
Let it snow
John let his voice fade away, the sound streaming through the piano slowly falling away. He finally stopped his hands; they paused over the keys. Shayera brushed his hands aside and began playing a light, graceful tune that was faintly familiar. It was almost like the song his grandmother used tossing to him every night when he was a child. He wrapped his arms around Shayera, bringing her closer, and nuzzled her hair. Shayera began singing in Thangarian, her voice high and sweet.
"I never knew you played the piano," John said gently. He brought his face down to hers. Shayera stared into his deep brown eyes that she could get lost in; that betrayed him, and showed what John wanted, showed he loved her, pledging himself to her for eternity. His breathe was hot on her cold lips, his muscles firm under his thin shirt pressing against her chest.
Her eyes bore into his. He removed the mask and tossed it aside. Those emerald green stones that were her eyes were shining, telling him that she was ready to throw caution to the wind for him. He slid one hand up her back, sending chills down her spine. He was moving closer.
He felt her tug at his shirt, none too politely, and he willingly pulled it off, he kissed her neck, following her collarbone, planting kisses all the way. Slowly, he slipped her shirt off, her red hair fell back around her now bare shoulders. He traced her with his hands, caressing her soft skin dangerously low before going back up, Shayera wanting his lips to replace his hand. He looked into her eyes gain. Love; that was the only thing there; no worries, no doubts, no fears, no regret; and he knew that his eyes must be showing the same lust, reflecting the same feelings.
He slowly closed the space between them, his lips seizing her, demanding a kiss in return. She suddenly broke from him.
"We don't have to unless you want to; I don't want to push you into anything," he whispered, his voice dripping with compassion.
"No, it's just- what about Katma?" She saw the worry that had entered John's eyes disappear.
"What about Katar?" He countered. She smiled. She knew he would know about that. She realized what he was saying.
"What about them?" she agreed as he slipped off more of her clothing and carried her upstairs to his bedroom, kissing her passionately all the way.
*********************
Shayera watched as John slowly stirred. He turned his head to her and a slow smile spread across his lips. "Good morning."
She smirked. "I guess you don't remember last night if it's only a good morning."
She giggled as John rolled her onto him. "You're right; let me try that again: words cannot describe just how great a morning this is. What time is it?"
"About eight o'clock," she answered.
"I don't ever remember getting up that late on Christmas morning," John chuckled.
"We did have a long night…." Shayera smiled as her finger traced the side of his face slowly.
"And you said you didn't get me a present." Shayera playfully slapped his head. "You know something?" Shayera looked at him with eyes that said 'I have no idea'. "This is the third time that I've waken up with an angel in my arms. And not just any angel;" he stopped and gave her a long, passionate kiss, his hands on her back. "My angel."
Shayera's lips twitched into a grin. Suddenly, her eyebrows lowered. "John, I can't help feeling what we did was wrong."
John quickly sat up and pulled her into his lap, taking her face in his hands. "Love is never wrong, Shayera."
Shayera's hand reached for one of John's. "I know. And John, if what I feel for you is wrong, then, God damn it all, I never want to be right again!" she declared, cuddling up closer to John. She tilted her head up as John tilted his head down and they kissed again, not stopping until they ran out of breath. John slid down so that he was lying under Shayera.
"I love you, Shayera; always have, and always will, no matter what happens."
"I know," she replied as she lay her head on his chest. He gently stroked her back. "And I love you John; nothing will ever change that, nothing will every make it otherwise."
"I know. Merry Christmas, Shayera."
"Merry Christmas, John."