AN: Zemuria doesn't celebrate Christmas and there's currently not a flake of snow to be seen outside my window but that's no excuse to put off writing winter-themed fluff! Also, if you've read carefully everywhere descending... well, the premise'll seem familiar to you :P

Hats Off

It was times like this, Celine decided, trying her damndest to keep a smug grin off her face and failing miserably, that proved Aidios could indeed give with both hands on occasion.

"Welcome back, you two. It's really coming down out there, isn't it?"

"It certainly is!" Emma agreed with a laugh, quickly brushing flakes of snow away from her bangs and the thick sleeves of her winter coat. "Neither of us thought it would get this heavy when we left earlier. Live and learn, I suppose."

"At least you managed to make it back without freezing," she said, leaping off the couch and bounding up to Emma's feet in one fluid motion before she took a long, exaggerated glance upwards at the man beside her.

Or to be more specific, at what currently sat atop his head.

"Hi to you too, grumpy."

"If you want to say something," Machias told her dully, evidently all too aware that the black and purple knit hat he was wearing had matching cat ears proudly sticking up like they were Aidios' gift to creation, "by all means, feel free."

A number of choice thoughts swiftly ran their way through the familiar's head, not the least of which was "Geez. You've really got it bad, don't you?"

Instead, "Not a lot to say, really. I mean, it's a nice hat," she began, daintily lifting one paw in the air to inspect it. "But then again, Emma made it so that's no surprise."

The witch smiled brightly, undoubtedly remembering the (warm, comfy and well-worn) muffler she had knitted for her partner in Ymir all those years ago. Machias, for his part, still looked wary, as if he just knew the sky was going to come crashing down and it was simply a question of when.

Well, far be it from her to disappoint someone with expectations.

"Wanna know what does surprise me though? You managing to pull off those ears almost as well as I do. Who'd have thought you had it in you?"

"And there it is," he sighed as he dropped his head in abject surrender, and if it happened to look like the fuzzy triangles were drooping… well, Celine could only assume that was an intentional design choice on Emma's part.

"Hehe. They do look rather fetching on him, don't they?" Emma said, reaching out to playfully tweak one of them as her smile grew wider all the while. "I'm glad the color combination worked out too, I wasn't sure if it would when I started making it."

Celine sniffed. "As if there was any doubt." She continued to pace in slow circles around Machias, making noises of consideration with each pass while flagrantly ignoring his growing discomfort, much to his chagrin. "Though come to think of it, you know what would really tie the whole thing together…?"

Emma's eyes immediately lit up, proof positive that the passage of time had done nothing to dull the link between witch and familiar. "Matching gloves?"

The feline nodded, her own eyes glimmering with a light that some (read: Machias) might have called just a little bit fiendish. "Matching gloves."

"S-She doesn't have to go through the trouble!" he hastily interjected, waving his hands in front of him like it would help somehow.

Turning away from Celine's smirk and toward Emma, he added "You don't have to go through the trouble. Truly."

Funny how that sounded more like a plea than anything else.

"Are you sure?" she asked, reaching over to slip her fingers through his. "I mean, I certainly wouldn't mind."

"I'm fully aware, but…"

"But…?" Emma asked expectantly, giggling when he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. "Surely you wouldn't mind a thicker pair, especially in this weather. And besides, the ones you were wearing earlier aren't exactly aging gracefully."

"They're aging perfectly fine," he shot back reflexively, though his still sensitive fingertips might have had something to say about that had they been able. "Nothing's wrong with them."

She affectionately sighed at that, long accustomed to his stubborn streak at this point. "Honestly, Machias. If they're not keeping you warm enough when it's freezing outside, then I would say that counts as something wrong." Emma squeezed his hands with her own to punctuate her point, stopping him before he could protest. "And it needn't be said that I'd rather not worry about you chilling yourself to the bone every time we head outside in snowy weather. I much prefer your hands warm, you know."

Machias stiffened and narrowed his eyes, a blush staining his cheeks in spite of himself when she gave him another squeeze.

"Ugh. That's playing dirty and you know it."

"Oh, maybe a touch. Is it having any effect?" she teased, giggling again when he grumbled but said nothing in reply.

"Just save yourself the trouble and give in before she starts pouting," Celine interjected, snickering a little as Emma sent her familiar a look that was probably supposed to be withering but came off as mildly unsettling more than anything else. "We both know she will, just like we both know it'll work because it always does."

"I-It doesn't always work!"

"Please. Who are you trying to kid?"

He scowled and muttered a slew of unconvincing denials under his breath, but Machias soon found his gaze settling back on Emma, who was now staring at him with a hopeful expression on her face.

"So…?" she asked with bated breath, her sapphire eyes wide and guileless and damn it, she didn't even need to pout this time.

"I… suppose I could do with a new pair," he admitted, pointedly ignoring Celine's chuckle in favor of Emma's musical laugh, the joyful sound ringing through the air.

"I'm glad you see it my way. I'll start knitting tonight, then," she hummed, pulling away and slipping by him to head towards the kitchen, her warm touch still lingering on his skin. "Now, I'm going to heat up some water for tea. Did you want me to put in extra so you can make yourself a cup of coffee too?"

"Of course. Thanks, Emma."

She smiled at him, and he waited before she was well and truly occupied with the business of preparing her drink before looking at the grinning familiar with a resigned air. "Feel free to stop rubbing it in at any point, by the way."

"Not a chance," she told him, strolling over and nudging his pant leg with her head. "We're gonna match, huh?"

"Apparently," Machias sighed, kneeling down to give her ears a good scratch as she purred in approval. "Still, I'm certainly not going to complain about warmer gloves in these conditions. Function should always triumph over fashion when it comes to the cold."

"Good boy. Besides, it could be way worse. It's not like she stuck a bow like mine up there too."

"I know what I just said, but I'll still thank you not give her any ideas."

"We'll see. But y'know, a saucer of warm milk has been known to make me a little forgetful…"

"Oh, for the love of - how shameless can you get?"

"When it comes to milk? Very."

Machias groaned, Celine snickered, and unbeknownst to both of them Emma had drawn both hands to her mouth to smother her giggles, steam merrily wafting in front of her as the water boiled and bubbled.

"Matching bows. Hmm."