First Christmas

Pairing: Marco x Meene

Author's Note: This chapter is more of a stand-alone piece, as it doesn't really follow the time-line of the rest. Set a few months after the tournament. Happy Holidays everyone!

Written from Marco's POV.

Disclaimer: Shaman King belongs to Hiroyuki Takei, not to me.


"Thank you for flying with us today. In a few moments we will be landing at our destination of Montreal, Canada."

The voice booming over the speaker caused me to glance upwards, before I felt my sandy blond companion shift at my side. A slightly muffled yawn fell from her lips as she straightened up and made a slight rolling motion with her head. Hands stretched out in front of her before she turned her gaze up to me with a sleepy smile.

"Ah, sorry. I didn't realize how tired I was. I guess all of that packing yesterday took its toll on me." She blushed faintly before absently trying to straighten out her ruffled hair.

"It was nice to have you as a pillow." She added as an afterthought, causing me to send her a side-wards glance from over top of my glasses. I would have piped up about the newly discovered lack of feeling in my shoulder…had she not had a sheepish grin on her face. Instead, I ended up cracking a faint smirk as well, before rolling said shoulder and standing up. I swung my leather laptop bag over my still awake shoulder and made a hasty exit back onto solid ground. It hadn't been a long flight, but I still missed being able to stand on solid ground. If given the choice, I most certainly would have driven all the way up here. However, when your companion asks you to accompany her and already has plane tickets in hand…it is difficult to say no.

I wasn't aware how quickly I was walking until I heard said companion pipe up behind me.

"Marco! Wait up!" She was giving a slight wave of her hand in my direction, and I immediately slowed. Of course, she hadn't been more than two steps behind me – having a fairly quick gait as well – and was soon at my side. The rest of our journey to pick up our bags was done in silence, and I soon found myself watching for our two pieces of luggage. Meene, however, didn't seem to have many intentions of helping me locate said luggage. Instead, her gaze was intently focused on something – I didn't bother asking what – outside.

"Hey, Marco? Once we drop our stuff off at the hotel, do you think we could go ice skating?"

"Mhm." It was at that exact moment that I saw both of our bags come around the carousel, resulting in me quickly moving forward to tug both of them onto the ground at my feet. Admittedly, I hadn't really bothered to fully comprehend what Meene had asked, being more focused on the task at hand.


It wasn't until I found myself standing outside, dressed for the weather but 'still' freezing, with a pair of skates dangling from my right hand, that I realized my earlier mistake. Every time someone easily breezed past on the rink before me, I felt my stomach drop. It was twice as bad whenever someone less than a quarter of my age went zooming past. Of all the things she had to –

"Oh, you haven't put them on yet?" Bright olive eyes were now peering up from in front of me, forcing me to drop my attention back down to her. Not that I wouldn't have rather had my attention on her…although perhaps in different circumstances. Now, I found myself faced with two different options for handling the dilemma I was currently in. The first was to simply tell her up front that I had never done anything similar to ice skating in my life. The second was to keep quiet about such a thing, head out onto the ice, and hope for the best. Considering my inherit inability to admit my shortcomings…

"…I just wanted to make sure that you were able to get a pair as well. Go on ahead and I'll meet you out there." I forced a smile onto my lips and gave her a motion forward with my hand. This seemed to be the answer she was looking for, as she flashed me a grin and happily sauntered off to the edge of the rink. As soon as she was out of earshot, I let out a slight groan. This was most certainly going to be the death of me.

Nevertheless, I moved over to a bench to slip on the pair of skates. That went easily enough, until I went to stand up. I nearly toppled over, and had to quickly reach out a gloved hand to steady myself against the bench. I heard a slight snickering coming from behind me, and I immediately whipped my head around to scowl at the child that was likely responsible. What I came face to face with, instead, was a chuckling female Archangel. My eyes narrowed considerably at Gabriel, and I was half tempted to send Michael to chase her away. Luckily, I did still hold some semblance of patience, and decided against drawing my pistol at a crowded skating rink. For the wrath of my companion – and the authorities – for doing such a thing would have been far, far worse than Gabriel laughing at me.

Instead, I turned my attention back toward the rink, and managed to walk down to its edge. My ankles were still shaking slightly as I stood on the last portion of snow; trying to gauge the best way to get on the actual rink without falling flat on my face. And, I succeed…in theory. I did not land on my face, but on my back instead. The physical pain lasted for only a few seconds, but my pride had been irreversibly damaged. I continued to blankly stare up at the cloudy sky above, until it was obstructed by a concerned face gazing down at me. Worry was spread across her features as she extended both gloved hands to help me back up. Despite what I had feared, Meene didn't show any indication that she had been laughing.

"Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?" She started to frown as she helped me up and back to the snow. Concern had never been a fitting expression for her in my opinion, so I moved quickly to try and remove it.

"Only my pride…" I admitted with a soft – if not slightly forced – chuckle. Thankfully it served its purpose, as Meene's expression seemed to lighten considerably.

"I'm sure your pride will recover soon enough." She grinned, lifting a hand to rest against my cheek for a moment. Gabriel had moved back to her shoulder at this point, though seemed to stay quiet. Still, I swore she was silently mocking me. Of course, I never gave the Archangel the satisfaction, and instead closed my eyes to wait for the inevitable 'you don't know how to do this' statement from my companion.

"…I can help you out if you want. I mean, if you want to stay here." Her eyes held a hint of hopefulness in them, and I couldn't very well turn her down. Especially not after she hadn't called me out on having never done this before.

"If you're willing to try and keep me on my feet. It may be more of a challenge than you think." I admitted, lifting my hand to brush against hers before she drew away to start back toward the rink. At this point, fewer people seemed to be skating around us, which I was thankful for. If I did undoubtedly end up on my back again, at least no one would trip over me. Once she stepped onto the rink I found myself waiting for her to spin around and offer her hands; much like how the parents did when teaching their children. Instead, she just stood there with her back to me. Confused, I felt my brows furrow and my mouth open to protest.

"Wrap your arms around my waist. Then slowly step out onto the ice behind me." The instructions caught me off guard, but, despite being skeptical, I wrapped both arms around her waist. Followed by carefully –very carefully, I might add – putting one foot onto the ice; followed by the other. I did waver slightly, but Meene's rigid frame in front of me kept me standing. A quick glance back from her to make sure I was alright, and we were off. It was certainly a very slow pace for her, but it was just bearable for me. After making our first lap around the rink, I was visibly starting to relax. Granted, not enough to loosen the near death-grip I had on my support system. Still, she didn't seem to mind. Gradually, I couldn't help but starting believing that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't as bad as I had made it out to be.


The last few rays of the afternoon sun were starting to disappear behind the horizon as I finished making two steaming mugs of hot chocolate; complete with marshmallows on top. Carefully lifting them into my hands, I turned to silently regard the woman sitting on the bed. Meene had one of the blankets wrapped completely around herself, with one hand holding it shut as her gaze was intently focused on the small television atop the dresser. A quick glance to my side, and I was able to distinguish the show as Frosty the Snowman…in French, of course. The language didn't really matter, as I had seen it often enough to know the gist of what was occurring. Besides, watching Meene was far more interesting to me.

Unfortunately, she seemed to have caught on to my glance, and she quickly blinked in my direction. Smiling, I made my way over and handed her one of the mugs. She, in return, extended half of her makeshift blanket-shelter to me. Not being one to reject such an invitation, I shifted the warm comforter around my shoulders, and my free arm around her waist. I felt her shift slightly, and soon her head was on my shoulder again.

"Meene, why did you want to go ice skating in the first place?" I lifted the steaming mug to my lips and took a short sip; noticing the silence that I had seemingly brought up with my question. Had I said something wrong? Just as I was about to tell her to forget about the question, she lifted her head.

"Every Christmas Eve my Father and I used to go ice skating. No matter what he was doing, he always made time to head down to the rink – even if it was for only ten minutes. My balance was always a bit off, so he would always hold on to me from behind." She admitted, her gaze falling down to the mug in her hands. Absently, she began to trace one finger around the rim.

"I suppose it's just hard to break tradition when you've been doing it for so long." Her voice grew softer, as I became acutely aware of just how much this had meant to her. I thought for a moment, before ducking my own head to press a kiss against her temple.

"You don't have to break tradition. We can just…modify it." I spoke, feeling her shift to press her lips to mine. Yes, that certainly had done the trick.

"I suppose you have a point. You are going to need many, many years of ice skating lessons." She laughed, before curling up against me and fixing her gaze back on the tale of the animated snowman. I just shook my head, knowing that she was right, and settled in to try and translate what few words I could of Frosty. Hopefully, I would at least have a basic understanding of the language for our return trip next year.