Santa Claus- A Ron/Ginny Cookie
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The house is silent, still in the dark night, but I'm tense as I sit up straight as a stick in my bed. I'm not the only one up and I know it. After a few seconds, I sigh lightly rearrange the sheets, the soft white cotton rustling slightly with the movement. Finally, after hearing no more noise, I flop back. But then I sit back up, this time more tense than the last... for I can hear someone through the heating vents (which don't even work, not even in the middle of the winter, since Mum and Dad don't have the money), there's someone in the living room.

Quick as a flash I'm out of bed, not even caring how cold the air is against my skin, not even caring that I'm only wearing a pair of boxers with reindeer and presents on them. My first thought is to keep the intruder from getting to my family... My second thought to keep him from getting to my presents that reside under the tree.

Creeping down the stairs, I hear the quiet rustle of paper, as if someone were opening a package... opening a package!? Ohhh, they had better not be stealing my presents!!!!!! More quickly than before, I rush down the stairs, careful not to step on the spots that creak. It's been years since I've lived in this house; I'm twenty-three years old, but I still remember how to sneak out.

Finally I'm at the base of the stairs. I see a glowing light coming from the living room doorway, a light that flickers. A candle. A bit apprehensively, I sneak up to the doorway, peer around the frame and see... Ginny. I can't see her face very well, because the candle's on the other side of her body, and she's blcoking out the light. But her hair, her wild hair, lightly curling as it cascades over her shoulder... that hair is shining a fiery bright red in the flickering, soft light. She's got wrapping paper in front of her, but it's not ripped... she's only wrapping something, is all.

So I make to step into the room, but I can't make myself move. She just looks so beautiful in the light. And anyway, I'm only in my skivvies. So I just stand there instead, watch her wrap the mystery gift. As she turns, I see her face a bit better, the creamy smooth skin spattered lightly with freckles... the soft endearing borwn eyes, the color of milk chocolate. Her high cheekbones, the soft curve of her lower lip, the bowed upper... her tiny ears and smooth jaw. And I finally see her, as a woman and not my kid sister. Taking in Ginny's long, languid limbs, the soft sway of her hips as she walks across the room, I find a sweet hotness pooling in my belly, warming me to my numb toes.

And then she turns toward the door and sees me, gasps in surprise and a long fingered, elegant hand raises to her chest, fluttering slightly. I've ruined the moment by letting her see me.

"Ron," she says, surprised. "What are you doing down here?"

"I- uh... er, that is..." I mince my words. "I heard someone down here. Thought it might be an intruder."

Ginny grins slightly, one side of her mouth higher than the other, and replies, "Just call me Santa Claus." I step into the room, suddenly wanting my sister to see me in just my boxers, wanting to show off the lean muscle I've gained over the years, as a Keeper for the Chudley Cannons (I've led them to quite a few league victories, mind you) wanting her to see that I, too, have grown.

And she does see. She looks me up and down, slowly, making my whole body tingle with a single glance. Stepping closer, Ginny asks, "Why aren't you wearing any clothes, Ron?"

"Forgot them in my haste to save the presents," I tell Gin, stepping closer to her as well. Our chests are nearly touching, her lips just inches from my own.

"Do you know what I want for Christmas, Ron?" Ginny's voice has become husky as she says these words, closing her eyes and letting the feathery red lashes lay upon her cheeks. I take in a deep breath, closing my own eyes, smelling wonderful scents of woman. Ginny smells of sugar cookies, and hot wax, and clean laundry. She smells intoxicating. And then there is no space between us, as Ginny wraps her arms 'round my neck and pulls me close to her, dragging my head towards her own, joining our lips in a sweet embrace. Groaning slightly, I realize we want the same thing for Christmas, and wrap my own arms around her. The kiss is more enthralling than Ginny's scent, and we stumble around trying to find the couch.

"You know, Ron, I've always wanted to wait up for Santa Claus," she tells me lightly, laying on top of me as languidly as a cat would a windowsill. As I kiss her neck, she moans lightly, making my insides turn into knots. And, reaching over, she pinches out the candle, and we are obscured in darkness... Together. Too bad we can never come out as we went in.

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