Well, one reviewer got it right, read on to find out her identity.
She stretched under the covers, feeling the soft sheets slide around her legs. The cool air danced around her exposed face, and she buried it up to her eyes in the sheets. She slid an arm out, searching for the warmth she had clung to for the majority of the night, but only found empty sheets surrounding her.
Was it a dream, had she just dreamed actually going to him again? No, she had done it last night, the smell of his home, the feeling she got when he looked at her was never fully reproduced like that in her dreams.
Besides, this bed was much softer than her own back at the Xavier Institute. Still, the questioned remained, where was he? She cracked an eye open and confirmed her suspicion. His pillow was empty, pressed down in the middle where his head had laid the night before.
She stared at a white feather which lay at the bed's corner, slightly rocking back and forth as it was caressed by an invisible draft.
The door to the room slowly opened. She just stared at him through her cracked eyes. He smiled at her, her silence not being confused with sleep, and indicated the sterling silver tray he was carrying.
"You're bringing me breakfast in bed?" She asked, bunching the covers tighter around her and sitting up as she wiped her eyes to hopefully awake faster.
"Yes I am." He replied, playfully mocking a hurt tone. "You asked that like I had a third eye growing out of my forehead."
"Sorry, just not used to this treatment." She took a steaming cup of coffee off the tray and held the warm mug between her hands. "Thank you Warren." She looked at the plate, a simple omelet folded is half, a few slices of tomato.
He sat the tray across her lap and climbed into the bed next to her, wings fanning out to each side so he could recline, and removed his own cup of coffee from the tray. "What happened with your family?"
"What?" She placed a forkful of eggs in her mouth, sighing as they melted. Nothing at the Institute was ever this good.
"Last night." He paused and took a sip out of his own mug. "You mentioned them."
"They trusted me with something precious and I let them down." She suddenly became very interested in her plate, not wanting to look at him.
"What did they say?" Warren encouraged her to proceed.
She looked down at her plate, nervously picking at her food with the fork. "I haven't really talked to them after he left."
"Call them." He covered her hand which still held the fork with his. "Call them, tell them how you feel. Better them to hear it from you than to speculate." He smiled rubbing his thumb up and down her knuckles.
Why did he have to always say the right things at the right times?
"Do you feel better?"
She snapped out of her thoughts and smiled. "A lot." She eased over in the bed and hugged him, closing her eyes as his arms wrapped around her. "Thank you Warren."
"But not completely better?" He asked, his face buried in her hair.
"Not completely." She breathed into his housecoat, and inhaled his scent which she had forgotten over the course of the night.
"Come on." Warren stood out from her grasp and up from the bed, walking to a small vertical CD player in his armoire.
"What are you doing?" She asked, and without thinking uncovered herself from the sheets and quickly wrapping herself in the soft bathrobe she had donned the night before.
He returned to the edge of the bed as the sounds of a gentle keyboard filled the room. "I'm asking you to dance." He held his hand out to her.
She almost giggled. "Certainty good sir." She took his hand and they walked out to an open part of the bedroom's floor.
Christmas is the time
of year,
For being with the one's we love.
Sharing so much joy and cheer,
What a wonderful feelin.
Watching the one's we love,
Having so much fun.
"I love this song." She whispered into his chest. What had started out as formal dancing quickly evolved into a swaying hug.
I was sittin by the fire side,
Taking a walk through the snow.
Listening to a children's choir,
Singing songs about Jesus,
The blessed way that he came to us.
Why can't it remain,
All through the year,
Each day the same.
Heyeah, that's what I wanna
hear,
Heh heh, It's truly amazin,
That spirit of Christmas.
Warren kissed the top of her head. "I've often wondered if he's a mutant."
All the kin folk gather round,
The lovely Christmas tree.
Hearts are glowing full of joy,
Sense the gifts that we're giving,
And the love that we're living.
Why can't it remain,
Ohhh all through the year,
Each day the same.
Heyeah, that's what I wanna
hear,
I'll tell ya, It's truly amazin,
That spirit of Christmas.
"Who?" She removed her head from his chest and looked up at him. "Ray Charles?"
Let me hear ya.
Why can't it remain,
All through the year,
Each day the same.
That's what I wanna hear,
Listen to me, It's truly amazin,
That spirit of Christmas.
Ohhh It's truly amazin,
That spirit of Christmas.
Ain't it so, It's truly amazing,
Yeah, that spirit of Christmas.
Oh Christmas,
Oh Christmas.
The song faded, replaced by a soft Bing Crosby melody. "Any person, much less a blind one, who can play the piano and sing like him is getting some extra help from something."
She laughed. "Well, that's another one of life's mysteries solved."
They just stood there, although they had stopped dancing, and looked at each other, the Angel and the Witch.
"You should let your hair grow out longer…" She reached up and ran her fingers through his medium length hair blond, pulling it out of its styled place. "It'd suit you."
"Fashion tips?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
She smiled and shrugged. "Just being honest."
Warren looked out over the top of her head through Bombay doors of his bead room. Fresh snow covered everything, like a white sea washing up against his home. "Weather's allot better this morning." He remarked to her, the rays of sunshine reflecting off the crystals of the snow.
She smiled back and looked up at him. "With good reason."
They milled around his house for another hour. Talking about various subjects, doing various things around the house, she even helping him wrap presents to mail off to his parents in London. Although she didn't think about it, it was truly amazing how at home she felt.
She didn't think about the Institute, the problems in her life, she just felt… content. The morning slowly wore on, until she felt it necessary to gather her things and return.
They trudged out of the warm house and into his driveway, their feet leaving a pair of close footprints in the fresh snow; Warren walked ahead and opened the car door for her. "Don't take so long this time to come back and visit."
She got into the cold car, coat wrapped tightly around her. "This is the second time I've been here to visit you." She looked at him with a smile, letting him know that her stern tone was hollow. "It wouldn't kill you to come to the Institute once in a while."
He chuckled. "What are you doing Christmas eve?"
"Staying at the institute I suppose." She put her key in the ignition, but let her fingers nervously fidget on it without cranking the car.
"I'll be here…" He bent his knees and crouched down to her level. "In this big house…" He moved a little closer. "All alone…"
They both moved in at the same time. Lips connecting with a spark of electricity that traveled down the length of their bodies and back up again. By all accounts it was a simple, innocent, slightly more than a peck on the lips. But it left both of them stunned.
She smiled at him again, something she seemed to do allot when he was around, her blue eyes looking into his. "We'll see Warren."
"Good." He rubbed her hand on the steering wheel before letting go and standing back up. "I'll be up, trying to catch a certain someone coming down my chimney."
"Warren…" She laughed. "You can't honestly still believe in Santa."
"Who said anything about Santa, I was talking about a certain Cajun who has recently been spending more and more time at Xavier's place." He sighed. "And occasionally coming here to graciously point out flaws in my security system."
"Remy would never…" She caught herself. "Okay, perhaps Remy would."
"Good by." He smiled, stepping back from her car. "And Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you too." She said as he gently shut her car door.
Warren watched as she dove away. He knew she would return. Her presence was really the only thing he wanted this Christmas.
Sighing, he walked back into the house. He only had a few days to prepare for Christmas Eve, and he still had to find the bear-trap to place in the bottom of the fireplace.
~~~~
She watched the various houses as she drove home. Children out playing in the fresh snow, a family putting another strand of lights on their roof. She couldn't help but stare at the winged Angel fountain in the middle of the Institute's grounds as she entered the Mansion's drive.
Logan, clad in a pair of gray overalls looked out from under the X-Van as she pulled in. Watching as the familiar pair of legs stepped out of the car.
"Where you been?" He asked, turning back up to the stubborn bolt he had been trying to remove from the transmission casing for the better part of fifteen minutes.
"Out, at a friend's house." She replied and looked down at him, or rather his feet which were the only part of his body sticking out from under the van.
He grumbled. "Damn bolt…" Suddenly she heard a ~Skint~ and watched as the severed bolt-head rolled out from under the van and down around his feet. "You didn't see that."
"See what?" She asked, trying not to laugh.
"Exactly."
She turned to leave the garage, her feet tapping against the concrete floor.
Logan called after her. "Hey Ro?"
Ororo Monroe turned, and brushed several strands of white hair out from around her blue eyes. "Yes Logan?"
He rolled out from under the van, face smudged with streaks of grime. "You okay?" He asked as he pulled a grease-rag from the pocket of the coveralls and began wiping his hands. "Something's been bothering you lately."
"I'm fine Logan." She thought for a moment. "Just looking forward to Christmas Eve."
The song is "That Spirit of Christmas" and is by Ray Charles, of course.
The reference to Remy breaking into Warren's house is from my other fic "Here's to the Good Life". I didn't want to mention that they were both interconnected earlier because that would have ruled out several possibilities as to the mystery woman's identity. Besides, the possibility of Remy breaking into Warren's house Christmas night through the chimney was something I couldn't resist; it screams "the Grinch".
The part with Ororo mentioning her family was about Evan. I figured she would have blamed herself for his retreat to the sewers. And, while I don't think they would have completely burned the bridge, the friendship with Evan's parents would have certainty been on shaky ground following his disappearance.
M.B. Wade, Thief of Shadows, Gub-Man, Dark Ballerina, Southern Sass: Not Rogue, sorry. Big clue there, I mentioned that they were holding hands with several other mentions of touch, including a kiss.
ShnazzySpazzy, Pixie Flyer, CP Baker 12, The Rogue Witch, Avenging Kitty: Good guess with Jean, I guess the main clue there was that Warren let her drink and she didn't say anything about being underage. Jean doesn't seem like the type of person who wouldn't at least think something about it.
Remys Gal, Sky Flyer: Sorry, but Psylocke isn't in the Evo-verse. Here's hoping for season 5 though.
Rogue Star 1: Geese, you probably should get a job at a criminal research center. Of course, you know I love reading you 'Research Paper' reviews. The part with Ororo being cold came to me as this: most people are depressed when the weather's nasty; the weather gets nasty when Ororo is depressed. Kind of like that one chick in "Men in Black 2". Other than that your analysis was superb, scary to have someone thinking so close to the way I do. Extremely scary…
AND THE WINNER IS: TODD FAN
Hope you all had fun reading my first attempt at a holiday story, and I hope you all have a Merry Christmas!