Author's note: I'm hard on poor Heiji. And it's rare I feature Kazuha as his girlfriend already (but everybody knows they're going to end that way anyhow, so hell, what's the point).

Theme #8: Reindeers

I still don't own anything. It didn't change since yesterday.

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Tickling reindeers

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Kazuha stared. Kazuha snickered. Kazuha giggled.

By the time she began to laugh in earnest, Heiji had had more than enough. He dragged her inside, slammed the door and pinned her down against it, glaring. Which, seeing that he was dressed in a very old-fashioned, hand-knitted pullover, where red reindeers earnestly pursued one another on a background of white, creamy wool, wasn't actually efficient. No matter how hard she tried, Kazuha couldn't check her laughter – she had no grudge whatsoever against stag-decorated hand-knitted pullovers, but, really, seeing one on Heiji…

"Oh, quit it already," he growled, and then silenced her the best way he could think of. Kazuha, as she demonstrated by kissing back just as fully, certainly didn't mind… especially since, in the two months of their brand-new relationship, they had grown rather experienced in the matter of kisses.

"Do that somewhere else than on our doormat, you two. Bedrooms aren't for dogs," said a passing Shizuka. Heiji glowered after her mother, but Kazuha just laughed. Their respective parents, it seemed, had taken for granted since they were both in their cradles that they should end up together one day, no matter what excuses they could put up, and the information that the two stubborn kids had finally come to realize what they should always have known had not surprised them in the least.

Once in safety in Heiji's room, guarded from further sarcasm, Kazuha went on mercilessly, "Now, seriously, Heiji, what is that?" That was presently being pointed at by a meaningful finger. Heiji scowled down at the reindeers, which paid no attention at him and went on chasing one another on an eternal background of creamy wool.

"That," he said, "is a present from my grandmother. She was here until a few minutes ago – in fact, she left just before you arrived. You probably met her somewhere on the way." Kazuha did remember having stridden by an old obaasan in the street, but it was dark outside already and she'd barely been struck by a vague resemblance. "And she was really proud of her knitted masterpiece, so she really wanted me to put it on and I didn't have time to take it off before you c– and stop giggling!"

"Sorry." Kazuha coughed, quickly recovering herself. She couldn't help staring, though – once gotten over the initial shock, this pullover wasn't so bad. In fact, Heiji did look quite old-fashioned in this, but he also was – cute. She didn't think that often about him. Handsome yes, charismatic even, when it came to detecting cases and tracking murderers and turning his cap the other way round – but rarely cute. It was a nice change. Due to Christmas hovering in the air, no doubt – if Heiji came to wearing such clothes, virtually anything could happen.

"Quit the staring, Kazuha." She loved hearing him say her name, too; even if usually they still referred to one another as the Ahou. (Even Christmas couldn't change that.) So when he did call her by her name, she loved everything about it – the way the words rolled on his tongue and how sensual he succeeded in making it sound. Like he was actually kissing her – or very much asking for it–

"Oi! Ahou! Stop staring, will you?"

Kazuha snapped back in focus, and, once registered the situation, "You're the ahou! What's with the idea of walking about wearing such outfits, too! Couldn't you just toss it aside after your grandmamma had gone? Ahou!"

One eyebrow was arched. "Oh?" And with this he set about taking off the pullover, under which, so she hurriedly came to understand, he was wearing nothing at all.

Hormones went mad. "Gah! Don'tdoitnowdon'tdoitnow!" she shrieked – even after two months of dating they hadn't gone as far as getting so much accustomed with each other's body.

"Oh." The eyebrow was descended, the pullover tucked back down and the Smirk back at it again. His arms encircled her waist from behind, since she had turned from him in complete and irresolute dismay, and his chin rested on the top of her head. "What exactly do you want, Ka-zu-ha?" his warm voice asked playfully in her ear.

"Ahou," she grumbled listlessly, and then tilted her head to the side so that he could plant soft kisses in her neck. She felt his lips curl into small smiles as her body deeply relaxed against his; he then tightened his hold, pressing her back against his chest. The kisses went up to her ear and down her jawline, deliciously lingering and featherlike, attacking her tingling skin with their lightness and the caresses of his breath. For the thousandth time – like every time since he had first kisses her, she wondered how he could always arise those sensations deep in her belly – how he could always find the one sensitive spot which made her shudder in his arms – how he had come to know her so well, to know exactly what to trigger at what moment and how to trigger it.

At length she whirled around in his arms and kissed him by surprise – well, no, maybe not. It was evidently what he had tended to all that time, and seeing how eager he was to kiss fully back and take control, he had probably anticipated everyone of her moves.

The kiss was warm and lasted long. When they let go, they were both gasping for air. Then Heiji leant his forehead against his girlfriend's, and, in one of those fits of tenderness Kazuha always delighted in, murmured, "Merry Christmas, 'Zuha."

"Merry Christmas to you too," she murmured back, still breathless, and then broke free of the embrace, laughing. She gave his lips a rapid peck, but her attention was then drawn to the reindeers, who went on their endless chase on their starlight background. "I wonder…" she whispered, "I wonder if those stags are ticklish."

"What? No!" Heiji protested, but too late already. A spasm of laughter agitated him as Kazuha's expert fingers rapidly tickled at his ribs, and for a few moments he staggered on his feet, ready to fall over, until he recovered enough to push Kazuha away, flap her onto his bed, and tickle back. Her laughs rose as well, fresh and clear, making him want to… hear it more. And tickle on.

Thus, the Great Tickling Reindeers Battle began. On the bed. Quite confusedly. (And no, they were NOT making out, you perverts!)

After the last minutes of downright chaos, things calmed down a little bit. They were both lying on the bed (fully dressed, thank you), panting a little and still crossed with rapid, irresistible laughs. Slowly, with long, deep breaths being taken, their hearts eased down from frantic pounding to profound beating, and they eventually snuggled against each other, laughing still.

"God," Heiji said, "where d'you get those ideas…"

Kazuha nuzzled against his shoulder. "I'm probably one of the only people on Earth who actually know you're ticklish, Heiji." She closed her eyes; she was wild-haired, cheeks slightly flushed, and, in Heiji's mind, adorable. He wouldn't tell her that – he so rarely complimented her she would probably punch him on the arm, thinking he was mocking. He hardly ever told her she was beautiful… though she was, undoubtedly. He touched her hair with a kiss she would never feel.

"I love you," he said. Now, at least, he could say it without denying anything, but it was still rare enough. Proof of that was Kazuha's surprised glance at his face before she broke into a smile.

"I love you, too." There was a warmth in her voice even she rarely bestowed to him. It was the depth of a heart madly in love for years, and which had finally obtained what it was yearning for – the happiness of these situations, despite everything that hadn't changed – 'ahou'ing, quarrelling, shouting an so on, which made those peculiar moments of closeness and peace more intimate than anything.

They shared another rapid kiss and settled back to their embrace, feeling content with themselves and satisfied with the world in general. Heiji's room was well and warmly lit, and there was nothing more comfortable than the deep nest of pillows and covers they were lying on – nothing more agreeable than their close embrace and the soft sound of each other's slow breathing.

A soft knocking at the door. "Heiji, will Kazuha eat here tonight?"

"Yes, she will," Heiji called out, without consulting her. Kazuha scowled up at him.

"You could've asked me."

"Don't be silly," he said, with what could have been a pout and what could have been an ill-disguised smirk. "And lie back. You're warm." He languidly wrapped back his arms around her shoulders and waist, enclosing her possessively against his chest.

"What am I, a heater," she grumbled for form's sake, and lay back. Her hair spread, tickling his face. Her cheek was grazing against the woollen fabric of his pullover – red stags against white sky and ground, endlessly chasing one another, motionless and yet in motion, patterned together by a grandmother's tender knitting. The contact was soft and deliciously fuzzy; it tickled her cheek and nose. Maybe hand-knitted pullovers weren't that bad, after all…

They probably fell asleep.

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I own one or two of those hand-knitted pullovers, coming from my Swedish grandmother. I found them in the back of a shelf the other day, and it kinda inspired me for that fic.

Some maths now:

Given that Kazuha wonders for the thousandth time how Heiji can make her feel, etc, etc,

Given that she admits having wondered this every time he kissed her since their very first,

Given the length of their relationship so far (two months),

Given the date (17th of December),

Given that there are 31 days in October and 30 in November,

Calculate how many times they kissed since the beginning of their relationship.

And, for those who're still with us, admitting that those two are able to see each other about twelve hours a day, determine the number of kisses per day and per hour that makes.

Heads up! Christmas vacation is drawing near.