Disclaimer: Characters belong to Capcom, and the song is Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, originally sung by Judy Garland.
I hope you guys all have a Merry Christmas, and this is my Christmas present to you, (feel free to return it). x
Christmas was definitely not the most wonderful time of the year when you happened to be a grumpy, overworked, underpaid detective. Who had no idea where her case file was.
Shivering, Ema wrapped her insubstantial lab coat tighter around her and reluctantly dragged herself from her chair. She knew who would be responsible for her current torment, and it was more than likely his fault the heating had been blown too. He had done it himself, just to spite her.
"No, Pal, they reckon it was a mouse, crept in an' chewed through the wires…" one irate detective muttered into his phone.
Yep, definitely Gavin's fault.
She arrived at his office in record time, practically sprinting to warm herself up. Actually, most of the department appeared to have the same idea and the corridors were absolute chaos. It was lucky nothing major was happening today; the offices resembled a particularly festive edition of wacky racers, and functioned nothing like a police department.
The faint strains of music could be heard through the door, and as she pushed it open, an unexpected wave of heat washed over her. The source of the pleasant warmth was soon obvious; where his filing cabinets had previously been, a large fire now blazed, complete with mantle piece and stockings. The shiny leather chair had been replaced by a large cosy chintz sofa, completing the festive image.
Klavier had clearly gone overboard with decorating. A large Christmas tree (real, she could smell it) occupied most of the corner, scattering pine needles over a large stack of presents underneath it. The entire room was draped in tinsel, glowing with the light from the fire. Festive music filled the space, not from the giant speaker currently covered in snow globes, but from an old-fashioned, crackling wireless sitting on the mantle piece.
"Have yourself, a merry little Christmas..."
The man himself drifted into sight, singing in perfect harmony with the breathy voice on the radio.
"Let your heart be light…" He broke off when he saw her, and a large grin broke over his face. "Fröhliche Weihnachten, Fraulein!"
"No, it isn't." She snapped. "Where's my file Gavin?"
He feigned affront. "How can you be worried about such things at Christmas, Fraulein?"
"Because I need it!"
"No." Without warning, he grabbed her by the waist and dragged her towards him, so close he was speaking in her ear. "You don't."
Ignoring her feeble protests, he took her hand in his own and spun her into a waltz, whirling around the room with a grace she hadn't realised either of them possessed. The room began to blur into a sea of tinsel and gently flickering flames, until all that was left was him, and the quiet swell of crackling music.
"Through the years, we all will be together…" He was uncomfortably close, so much so that his singing tickled the back of her neck, and sent shivers all the way down.
The welling feeling of happiness brought Ema back to reality with a jolt. What did the glimmerous fop think he was doing?
"What do you think you're doing?" She yelled, yanking her hand away from his. She stumbled slightly as she pushed him away, and he grabbed her arm to steady her. His smile never wavered as she shook him off.
Unfortunately, he was between her and the door, and as she tried to push past him to get away, he wrapped his arms around her again.
"Ema." His voice was quiet, pleading. He sounded so gentle and yet so desperate that for a split second, she paused.
That tiny hesitation was all he needed. He turned her towards him and pressed his lips firmly against hers. Ema didn't know why she did it, didn't know if it was the heat of the room, the intoxicating smell of pine and smoke, or just the Christmas spirit that was clearly alive and living through Klavier Gavin, but she kissed him back.
"And have yourself a merry little Christmas now…"
…
As darkness fell over the city, Ema curled in Klavier's lap on the sofa, watching the fire slowly die. Watching the little scraps of white paper gradually blacken and turn to ash at the hands of the glowing orange embers, a thought struck her.
"That's my case file, isn't it?"