A/N: This is just a fun chapter. 30% of it is smut, the rest is mushy moments mixed with a bit of holiday family drama (cause it's not the holidays without it), snow fights, and other holiday treats. There is just one small thing in the whole chapter that is pertinent to the story and, if you don't want to read through the fluff and you're just here for the serious stuff, that detail will be in the note at the end of the chapter.

Enjoy!


She let Geralt take the window seat and sat herself comfortably next to him. They had gotten to the airport early to have time for all the security checks, but in the end they got through them remarkably fast. And not only that, the officers were surprisingly courteous to them. It took her a moment to realize it was the Director's handiwork, and Geralt confirmed it soon after they passed through the gate.

"We're all flagged as government agents, which makes it easier to travel when you need to carry a sword or a gun," he explained with a smirk. He looked like was enjoying the perks of his job.

"Had I known, I'd have packed more dangerous presents for you and my family," she joked.

"You got me a present?" he asked, surprised.

She covered her mouth. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"If you want to give me a present, just put a bow around your lovely self and I'll unwrap you all night long." His voice was a deep, low purr that sent shivers through the lower part of her body.

"You promise?" she asked, biting her lip.

He leaned in, his lips close to her ear. "All. Night. Long," he whispered in the same low voice he reserved for her.

If he only knew the storm he set off in her with just those few words… It was sheer insanity and sometimes she wondered if she'd ever get enough of him, but just as often the answer she gave herself was "I hope not." If he continued to talk to her like that, she might just make him a member of the mile-high club.

After they got on the plane, his attention shifted to the journey ahead and now his eyes were fixed on the view outside the window. The airport staff were loading the baggage onto the plane while late arrivals were still boarding. Her eyes drifted over his shoulders and back. There was tension in his muscles and the crease in his brow told of the anxiety gripping his mind at the thought of the imminent lift-off. Perhaps she shouldn't have told him how high they'd be flying, but now it was too late. All she could do was help him relax. Her fingers coiled around his arm while she rested her chin on his shoulder, her breath gliding over the skin on his neck.

"Please unwind, you look like you're ready to break into a sprint. Hope you're not getting cold feet about meeting my family."

He shot her an apologetic look. "No cold feet, but I thought this thing would be sturdier."

"It is, even if it may not look it. The flight will be smooth, I promise you. The only shaky bits are the lift-off and the landing, but even those are enjoyable if you relax. I, myself, am partial to the lift-off. There's nothing like the feeling of leaving the ground. But once we're in the air, it won't even feel like we're moving."

He looked unconvinced but made an effort to relax in his seat.

"I assume it can't be any worse than riding a dragon who wants to shake you off..."

"You rode a dragon?" She was trying to keep her voice low, but the surprise was too great. The people in front turned to look at them through the small space between the seats.

"A figure of speech," she clarified with a smile, looking them dead in the eyes. As expected, the curious passengers returned their eyes to the front.

"Tell me," she whispered softly in his ear.

One of his eyebrows perked up, along with a corner of his mouth.

"It was an old friend's daughter. She was under a spell and if I didn't free her… well, let's just say, things would have ended badly for many people."

"The spell turned her into a dragon?" she asked, intrigued.

"No, that part was all her. Her father was a gold dragon himself. And a sorceress thought it would be a good idea to take advantage of that fact and placed a mind-controlling spell over her. It resulted in her going on a rampage in dragon form."

"One of these days, I really need to pick your brain. You seem to have the most interesting stories and curious friends."

For a moment, he relaxed, his mind off the flight, but as soon as the captain announced their departure, he tensed up once more and turned to look out the window. He needed something else to focus on, so her hands circled his waist and her lips grazed his neck. A pleased hum left his lips as she made her way up to his ear and began to tell him everything she wanted him to do to her in vivid detail. He closed his eyes and relaxed under her words and touch. When the wheels of the airplane left the ground and they were pushed back into their seats, he didn't even flinch. All of his attention was focused on the colourful picture she was painting for him.

She placed a kiss below his ear and another lower down his neck and stopped midway through her dirty story. He opened his eyes and looked at her with a sly smile.

"You're just going to leave me hanging?"

"No. I'm going to let you think of a good ending, and you can tell it to me tonight. Or better yet, you can show me." Her tone left no doubts as to what her intentions were. She nodded to the window behind him. "For now, you can enjoy the wonders of modern life and technology."

His eyes followed the direction of her gaze. Puffy white clouds drifted beyond the thick glass as they rose higher through the atmosphere. He turned to look back at her and shook his head.

"I have a feeling you could get me to march into hell with you and not even feel the heat."


Andy waited for them at the airport, looking bored amidst the mass of people bustling through the arrival area. As soon as he came into view, Criss rushed to him with a grin on her face.

"Come here, you big lug!"

She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a very warm hug.

"Shut it, you little hobbit! And get off me! I've seen you too recently to miss you that much!" he protested while laughing, and Geralt felt nostalgic as he watched them poke brotherly fun at each other. "Geralt! Good to see you, now please remove this little leech from me! She appears to have forgotten that hugs are supposed to end at some point."

Criss released her hold on her brother and returned to Geralt's side, her fingers entwining with his, pulling him towards the exit.

"Let's go, men! We have parents to meet and food to eat! Let the circus begin!" she declared in a silly voice.

"Circus?" Geralt couldn't help but chuckle. This was a side of her he hadn't seen before, and it seemed to have been brought on by her brother's presence.

"Yes, circus," Andy agreed with a grin. "And we'll be the monocycle riding monkeys. You'll see soon enough."

They navigated the crowd on their way to the parking lot where Andy had left his car.

"By the way, Theo and Lana are already at the house. They brought the munchkins, of course. You're going to have your hands full," he said nonchalantly as they got into the car.

"Didn't know they'd be coming over this year. I thought they were going to Lana's parents."

"Nope, the full circus is in town this Christmas. Hope you like kids, Geralt."

"Um, sure…" he answered, uncertain what to expect. "Are they family or friends?" he asked.

"Theo is our cousin. We practically grew up together," Criss explained who he was about to meet. "His parents died when he was a kid, so our folks took care of him. Lana is his wife and the munchkins are their kids, as you can imagine."

"Looking forward to meeting them all."

His enthusiasm drew a burst of laughter from Andy, and Criss smiled awkwardly.

"He doesn't know what he's in for, does he?"

"Should I worry?" Geralt whispered into Criss's ear, but she just shook her head.

"Andy's just trying to scare you… for the most part. I was hoping for a quiet holiday, but there will be so much chaos in the house that I doubt we'll have a quiet moment for ourselves. Might have a tough time with the… present opening."

"Shit, sis! If you think you're being subtle with the euphemisms… I'm telling you, you're not!" Andy laughed.

"Hush, you perv! Stop listening in and keep your eyes on the road," she chided.


Soon, they reached the house and were greeted by Criss's dad, who was trying to keep a tiny little girl with dark curls from bursting out the door. The little girl nimbly evaded him, headed straight for Criss, and hugged her thighs, as the child barely reached her waist.

"Aunty Crissy!" she squeaked happily.

Criss leaned down to give her a peck on the cheek and the little one wrapped her arms around her neck. Seeing as she wasn't going to let go anytime soon, Criss picked her up and carried her inside just as an elderly woman who could only be her mom peeked her head out from behind a door.

"There she is! Come on in and put Cassie down. I need you in the kitchen." Just as quickly, the woman disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Hi, honey, it's good to see you," her dad greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. "Hope you had a pleasant flight."

"Hi, dad. Missed you!" She put the child down and smothered him in an embrace before turning back to Geralt. "And this is…"

"You must be Geralt," her dad took the words right out of her mouth. "Nice to meet you, son. You'll have to excuse Margo, my wife, as she's about to steal Criss from you. She's been at it in the kitchen since this morning and these little ones have been crawling all over the place and getting in her way. She needs a bit of help, but Lana is all thumbs in the kitchen and Krystal is somewhere out back smoking."

"Nice to meet you, Mr Thompson," he replied, extending a hand, which her dad warmly shook as he patted him on the back.

"You can call me Paul. No need to be too formal. Come on, Andy will take your bags upstairs and we can have a drink and relax before dinner is ready. Crissy..."

"Christine!" an annoyed woman's voice came from the kitchen.

"Yes, yes, I'll go help mom. She never calls me that unless she's already peeved. I'll be right there!" she shouted the last part loud enough for her mom to hear, then looked at Geralt apologetically, took off her coat and headed straight for the kitchen.

Geralt breathed out in relief. It was obvious he had walked into chaos itself, but nonetheless, he was happy that he had received a warm welcome. He followed Criss's dad into the living room where a black-haired woman was working on a puzzle with a boy who must have been around ten years old. The woman lifted her eyes and gave them both a welcoming smile.

Paul presented everyone quickly and without fussing. The woman was Lana, Theo's wife, and he introduced the boy last. "The little one is Tommy."

"I'm not little!" the boy protested.

"Yes, yes, I don't know how I could've messed that up. You're clearly so grown up and almost as tall as me," Paul teased the child and ruffled his hair.

"Andy said Criss will bring a date this year. It's good to meet you, Geralt. Theo's out getting some things for Margo, but he'll be back soon enough." The boy pulled on her shirt sleeve to get her attention, so Lana excused herself with an apologetic smile and returned to the puzzle pieces.

"What's your poison?" Paul asked nonchalantly and Geralt remembered Criss had used those same words a while back. The similarities didn't stop there. As he looked at her father's face, he could see they shared some of the same subtle features. They had the same perfectly straight nose, although hers was slightly smaller. The shape of their eyes was the same, but the colour was different. His were green, just like his son's. The man must have been in his 70s judging by his wrinkles and grey hair, but his athletic build and laid-back manner made him seem younger.

"Whiskey," he replied and glanced around the room.

The sitting room was large, but furnished in such a way that it felt cozy despite its size. A fireplace stood unused in the centre of the main wall and around it sat large comfortable looking armchairs and two couches with an enormous coffee table between them. His eyes stopped on a series of paintings hanging on a wall above a credenza. They depicted what could only be an elven city within fantastic scenery. Paul noticed his interest and provided him with a history of the creations.

"Criss painted those over 20 years ago. She used to have a fixation on that kind of fictional and almost gothic architecture. Too much Lord of the Rings, I suppose. Drew nothing else for a few years, until..." he paused awkwardly, not knowing how to finish his sentence. "She just stopped painting."

"I've only seen her professional drawings. I didn't even know she painted." He grabbed his glass and moved closer to the paintings, admiring the vivid colours and the intricate details, all very true to the cities he had seen - or what remained of them. "These are very beautiful and delicate."

"We have many others in storage, but these are the only ones she'll let us hang. She said she outgrew those fantasies and these are enough to remind her of her young naivete."

He knew exactly what these reminded her of. Exuberant, invincible youth cut down. Shattered dreams. Betrayal. Pain.

"I assume she inherited her talent from you. She told me both she and Andy followed in your footsteps," Geralt attempted some not-so-subtle flattery to change the subject. It worked.

"Yes, I was fortunate enough to have kids who knew what they wanted out of life. It was all their choice and let me tell you, not everyone was happy. But they stuck to their guns and now they're both doing what they love. They're even working together again..."

"Where's Criss?" Andy poked his head in, interrupting their conversation.

"Still in the kitchen, I assume. Don't think she's done grilling her," Paul replied, so Andy rolled his eyes and disappeared. "I think I need to apologize in advance for whatever my wife will say. She means well, but... her methods leave something to be desired..."

"Mom says to tell you to lay off the hooch and go get the tree and decorations from the garage," Andy interrupted again and left before getting an answer. It was obvious that her mom's orders were not to be debated.

"Come on, Geralt! My back's not what it used to be and I could use a hand if you're willing."

"Sure, lead the way."

As they crossed the hallway, Geralt couldn't help but overhear the conversation in the kitchen.

"Mom, you're being very rude! You haven't even said hello to him! Is it so much to ask for you to behave like a normal person for a few days?"

"Don't take it to heart, Criss. Remember how she was when she met Krystal? She's incapable of being nice," Andy's voice chimed in.

"The nerve! Telling me how I should behave in my own house!"

"I'm not telling you, I'm asking you. Nicely. As nice as I possibly can! This really means a lot. He means a lot to me!"

"You barely know him. Andy says you've been together less than a month... And he looks too old for you. Mike, on the other hand, he would have been a good match..."

"Not again! Please don't bring him up! That's been over for a decade. You can't possibly still think I'll ever get back with him? Just give Geralt a chance, that's all I'm asking. Don't make me regret..."

He didn't catch the rest of the conversation, but what little he heard made him wary of the upcoming dinner. Now he understood why Paul apologized and what Andy meant by the remark he made in the car. At least he knew what to expect, and wouldn't be taken aback by a possible brash comment from her mother.

He picked up the package containing the tree and swung it over a shoulder, keeping the large box in balance. Paul followed him back to the living room, carrying a few smaller and lighter boxes filled to the brim with Christmas decorations. They made another trip to get the remaining boxes, then began assembling the tree branch by branch. Geralt was familiar with the custom of decorating fir trees for the holiday but wasn't expecting an artificial one. Paul explained the assembly order, and they quickly got to it. Before long, they were joined by Andy, then by Theo, who had returned from his errands and was eager to pitch in after the normal introductions were made.

They were almost done with the tree when Criss finally showed up in the doorway.

"Lana, can you please set up the dinner table and get Krystal? We'll be done in about ten minutes."

She looked a little worn out, but her voice was chirpy and she still gave them a big smile.

"What a wonderful sight! All the men of the family working together to get the tree up!" She beamed at him and looked like she wanted to say more, but a shrill voice called her back to the kitchen. Criss rolled her eyes, blew him a kiss, and disappeared once again. Geralt couldn't help but smile a little out of the corner of his mouth while Paul and Andy were exchanging meaningful glances and smiles next to him.

"Mhm, you were right," Paul whispered to Andy with a smile.

"What was he right about?" Theo asked curiously, but neither of them answered outright.

"You'll figure it out, presuming you're not blind," Andy said with a knowing smile and a small tilt of his head in Geralt's direction.

"Can I help? I'm a man too!" Tommy made his way between them, grabbing the largest branch he could find and dragging it to the tree.

Lana returned to the room, followed by a blond with spectacular blue eyes and a scowl on her face.

"You all should go wash up. Dinner is set," Lana said with some urgency in her tone.

The blond, who he correctly assumed was Krystal, walked towards them and pulled Andy to the side to whisper something to him.

"I don't know how long I'll be able to stand her," Geralt heard her say before leaving the room. With all the surrounding discussions, it was getting hard to stave off the unpleasant feeling he was getting about her mother, but he was trying his best to keep an open mind and not be hostile without a reason.

At the dinner table, he was seated between Criss and Theo. It was a relief to feel Criss near him again and having her so close reinforced his decision to make it through the dinner, keeping his composure and ignoring any ill remark aimed at him.

To his surprise, Criss's mother was cordial and, after finally introducing herself, she even apologized for not having done so earlier. He reckoned the discussion he had overheard had ended in his favour, because the apology was followed by an attempt at making pleasant conversation. After exhausting easy topics like the weather and the convenience of air travel, her mother moved to more personal questions.

"So how did you two meet?"

"My daughter introduced us. Sort of," was the only thing he thought to say without lying.

"What does that mean? Sort of?" she asked, sensing that he was being vague to hide some awkward detail.

Fortunately, he didn't have to answer, because Criss stepped in on his behalf.

"We briefly met years ago. His daughter is a long-time friend I hadn't seen in a while. We reconnected recently, and it's been hard to separate us since," she answered with a smile, and he stifled a laugh, thinking of the tether between them.

"Mhm, might just die if I'm away from her for too long," he added, knowing she'd get a kick out of their inside joke, and sure enough, she giggled.

"You two are so sweet, it's nauseating. If I get diabetes from hearing you speak about each other, I'm sending you the medical bill," Andy said with a grimace of fake disgust. His wife, on the other hand, appreciated their sappiness.

"You are so not romantic!" Krystal said to Andy and elbowed him reproachfully. "Not surprising, considering the only thing you love that much is your work."

"Shit, here we go again..." Theo muttered and rolled his eyes, but said no more when Krystal threw him an icy glance.

"It's my work that's paying for all those expensive things you keep buying," Andy quipped back.

"Why don't you two just get a divorce already?" Margo asked point-blank, with complete disregard for decorum.

"Mom!" Criss tried to interject and stop the ensuing fight before it started.

"Now, now, don't butt in. I've got something to say! They're always fighting, they don't have or want kids, I don't understand why we have to listen to them bickering over the dinner table every time they come here."

The dinner was rapidly turning into a fiasco, and everyone looked like they were liable to choke on their food.

"That's enough, Margo. It's not your place to judge them, and arguing over the dinner table is likely to give us all indigestion," Paul cut off any more comments from his wife, then turned to Andy. "And that goes for you, too. If you two feel like fighting, then take it outside, not here in front of the kids. Knowing you, it won't be long before you start cursing."

Margo scowled but refrained from saying anything more. She and Krystal exchanged venomous looks before returning to their plates.

For a while, they ate in silence, and only the kids didn't mind the palpable tension in the room.

"Aunty Crissy, can I choose the colours for the tree?" Cassie asked between two mouthfuls.

"Sure, little one. If mom agrees to relinquish control this year." She looked to Margo, who just puffed and nodded, still visibly angered at being silenced.

Once they cleared the table, everyone moved to the sitting room and set about decorating the tree. Cassie chose white and gold and they had to dig through the boxes to find all decorations that matched the scheme. It was a tedious task, but the children were treating it all like a fabled treasure hunt, pulling out sparkling decorations with yelps of joy and keeping a tally of who found the most.

"I remember being just as excited about Christmas when I was their age," Lana said to Theo while watching their kids run around.

"They're calm angels compared to others I know. You should have seen Criss. If you think she's enthusiastic now, she's downright mellow compared to how she used to be. She and Andy always fought over who got to put the tree topper, even well into their teen years," Theo reminisced.

Geralt leaned back into the couch and soaked in the pleasant family image in front of him. Both kids and parents smiling and working together for a common purpose - even if the purpose was only to decorate a tree - it was refreshing to see such a peaceful moment. The tension that hung over the dinner table was long forgotten, and everyone was having a good time. Even if he was just watching from the sidelines, he was content to be part of this decor. He was drawn out of his pleasant reverie by Margo's voice.

"Is this something you can give her?"

He looked up and was met by Margo's eyes, so very much like Criss's in colour, but lacking their warmth.

"It's something I'll do my best to give her," he answered earnestly.

"But can you really, even at your best?" she mused. "You already have a daughter of your own who I assume is already grown up, which means a stepmother somewhere in the background, so that must mean at least one failed relationship." Her voice was soft, but her words cut deep as she continued to dissect him. "Criss says you work for the government, and judging by the scars on your face, it's not a cozy desk job. And tell me, are your eyes the work of some government experiment? Don't think I didn't notice. I was a doctor after all." She leaned in and continued. "So, although you say you'll do your best, perhaps your best is not good enough. Tell me, if your daughter was dating someone like you, would you approve?"

There was a cold, calculated look in her eyes as she spoke, and her gaze never faltered, pinning him shamelessly in place. For only a single moment, a slight glimmer of warmth was visible when she looked at her family, but it was quickly extinguished, and the harshness returned when she moved her eyes back to his. He couldn't even blame her. Everything she said was the hard truth, even more than she knew. This was a question he had asked himself, and even if the answer was shrouded in uncertainty - as his entire existence - things were more complicated and nuanced. As he looked at Criss and caught a glimpse of her warm smile aimed at him, he remembered her words. All they care about is if she's happy.

"I'd trust my daughter to choose for herself, knowing that I've raised her right, that she's her own person and knows what she wants," he spoke with his eyes still on Criss. "As for my past, I've kept no secrets from Criss, and I never will. She knows all there is to know about me, and still, she's by my side."

"But has she told you everything about her?"

"I don't know. Perhaps not, but I doubt that there's anything that she could say that could make me love her less."

"You knew she was to be married? Had her life all planned out, then suddenly broke it off on a whim."

"I didn't, but it's inconsequential. And I'm sure she had her reasons. She's not the fickle type. But if she ever decides to leave me, however much it'll pain me and break my heart, I'll accept it. I want her to be happy, even if that happiness no longer includes me," he said with a serene face. Even as he uttered the words, he knew them to be true.

Her hand squeezed his shoulder, and as he looked up, Margo's cold eyes finally had warmed a bit.

"Perhaps you should go help her with the tree. She's always loved this part of Christmas."

He nodded and strode over to the pile of boxes overflowing with decorations. Criss's face lit up when he handed her a box filled with golden ribbons.

"Oh, perfect! You can help me hang these up near the top of the tree. You're the only one tall enough to reach it without a ladder."

"I can do you one better," he said as moved behind her and lifted her so she could reach the top branches herself. She let out a little squeal of joy and beamed down at him.

It wasn't long before Cassie took notice and wanted a turn. He happily obliged, then saw Tommy look with envy at his sister, so Geralt offered him a turn as well, but the boy begrudgingly refused, as being picked up didn't match his idea of being all grown up.

When the tree was fully decorated, they turned off all the lights in the sitting room except for the glittering strands hanging from the branches, then stood back and admired their work. Paul put on some Christmas carols, and the mood was perfectly set. Although the songs were meaningless to him, the happiness radiating off everyone around him was contagious.

Criss snuggled into his arms, and he willingly accommodated her. She sighed peacefully and gazed lovingly at him. He held her tight against his chest and caressed the side of her face, looking at those beautiful lips that begged to be kissed. In a moment, he forgot all advice that warned against it and leaned in, his lips touching hers in a sweet and chaste kiss that made him feel whole.

She rested her head on his shoulder while they both glanced around the room. There was no trace of animosity left in anyone. All were entranced in the peaceful moment they were sharing.

The whispered conversations around them were cheerful, and they were all thankful to be together. Even Krystal and Andy had made amends and were now in each other's arms. Lana and Theo sat next to them with Cassie on Lana's lap and Tommy sitting dignified next to his father, while Margo and Paul stood further back, watching them all content. But all that mattered to him was the woman in his arms, who looked as happy as could be.


As lovely as the evening had been, he was looking forward to the night, knowing he'd have Criss all to himself again. Her vivid description of how she imagined he'd use his mouth on her was echoing in his mind, and he planned to enact every dirty detail of it and add a few of his own on top.

She led him to their bedroom and he could tell from one glance that it had been her old room. It was tastefully decorated and framed pictures of her from her various trips or taken at important moments in her life lined the shelves. He planned to examine them all… later. Now he had other priorities.

"Seems almost a sin to have you here," he whispered in her ear once the door closed behind him.

She gasped as a hand coiled around her waist while the other cupped her breast possessively and his mouth fervently searched for hers. Her lips parted for him, letting him in while she melted into his embrace.

For a second, he broke the kiss. "Now, remind me… Where did you say you wanted me to start?" he asked in the low, seductive voice he reserved for her before kissing her again.

She hummed as his lips skimmed over her cheek, drifting lower to her jaw, then up towards her ear. He gently bit her earlobe only to turn the bite into a kiss then to suck on the tender skin. For a moment, he stopped, letting his breath wash over the wet skin, soothing it and sending a shudder through her body. He moved a little lower and once again alternated between kissing, biting, and sucking on her skin. Her breathing quickened, and she instinctively pressed herself up against his body, desire flaring up inside her. His hands roamed shamelessly under her clothes, pinching a nipple between two fingers, caressing down her stomach, making their way under the band of her jeans, while his mouth moved in small increments down the side of her neck. Just as he was about to pop the button of her jeans and slide his fingers down to where she wanted them the most, a recognizable noise down the corridor drew his focus away. The next moment, he removed his hands from under her clothes and pulled back, his head turned towards the door, waiting and listening.

"Shit!" he cursed.

"What?"

"I think it's Cassie," he said. "By the sound of tiny bare feet lapping over the floor, she's coming here." He looked at her apologetically. "Sorry. The idea of her catching us… killed my mood."

"Yeah, I guess neither of us is depraved enough to risk that."

He gave her a chaste kiss and continued with a smile. "You'll have to wait a little while longer before you get to see what ending I had in mind for you."

She groaned and straightened her clothes while he went to unpack, thankful that he hadn't had time to get further than kissing.

Sure enough, moments later, their bedroom door opened and little Cassie was standing in the hallway with a children's book under her arm.

"Aunty Crissy," she began in a thin pleading voice meant to soften adults' hearts, "mom said you would read me a bedtime story."

"Guess we're not the only ones who wanted to open their presents early," Geralt muttered under his breath.

"Sure honey, come here," Criss answered in a sweet voice and patted the spot next to her on the bed, ignoring Geralt's comment. She looked at him as if to say sorry again, then pulled the little girl into her lap and laid back on the bed.

He fished out a pair of loose pants and a t-shirt comfortable enough to sleep in and went down the hallway to the bathroom to change into them. When he got back, he heard the little girl giggle through the door.

"It was awfully smart of him to leave crumbs, but my mommy would be so mad if I made a mess like that..."

"He was, but this time, the children were unlucky. Birds swooped down and ate the crumbs, so their trail home was gone."

The girl's expression changed from happy to wide-eyed and scared. Criss's eyes fluttered up to look at Geralt as he entered the room.

"Come on, uncle Geralt, sit with us and listen to a story," she joked and patted the other side of the bed. He laid down beside her, hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling and waiting for her to continue the story.

"They were lost?" the little girl gasped. "Alone in the forest? At night?"

"Yes, and they were terrified, but they kept walking, hoping to find their way back. Instead, they came across a gingerbread house where an old woman lived."

"Mmm, gingerbread..." the girl looked in amazement at Criss, and Geralt couldn't help but wonder at the genuine innocence with which she saw every detail of the story.

"The children were starving after trekking through the woods for so long and they started greedily nibbling on bits of the house. The old woman heard their little voices and beckoned them into the house, tempting them with more sweets," she continued reading. "But the old woman was an evil witch, who ate little children." Another gasp and the girl brought the covers up to her mouth, trying to hide behind them.

"Mommy says never take candy from strangers. Did their mommy not teach them the same?"

"No, honey, their mommy died when they were young and didn't get to teach them everything she wanted."

"This is a sad story. I don't know if I like it. Does it have a happy ending?"

"It does, but it gets worse before it gets better. Like eating cake at the end of a meal, it tastes all the sweeter after salty food." She smoothed down the girl's hair and gave a kiss on the cheek. "Want to hear the rest?"

The girl pondered the choice for a moment before nodding. "What happened to the children and the witch?"

"The witch lured the children into the house and locked the little boy in a cage. She wanted to eat him, but he was skinny and she wanted to fatten him up first. So she got the little girl to do all the housework and cook for the boy. Every day, she would check on the boy to see if he was any fatter. But the mean old woman was nearly blind and she couldn't see him, so each day she asked him to stick out his finger through the bars of the cage so she could feel it. The little boy was very smart and instead of giving her his hand, he stuck out a bone through the bars, so she would always think he was skinny."

"Ha! Clever little boy!" Her little face twisted as she thought more about it. "Clever, but he was still in a cage..."

"The old woman lost her patience and seeing that he wasn't getting any plumper, she decided she would eat him bony as he was. So she asked the little girl to get into the oven to see if it was hot enough, but the girl was just as smart as her brother. She pretended not to know how to get in, and when the witch got in to show her how it's done, the little girl shut and locked the door behind her. The children searched the house and found a treasure inside. They filled their pockets with as much as they could carry and went back home to their dad. His new wife died while they were gone and he regretted having let her convince him to get rid of his children. The riches they found were enough to keep them from ever going hungry again and they lived happily ever after. The end."

"Yey! Happy end! More! Read one more! Pretty please!" she pleaded in her squeaky voice, so Criss had to continue reading from the storybook.

She read on, not one, but three stories until the little girl fell asleep in her arms, and all they could hear from her were faint snores. Criss gazed upon the sleeping girl with loving eyes, and Geralt felt an unexpected pang in his chest. A nagging thought crept into his mind. She turned to him with the same love in her eyes and reached out for his chest. No matter what, she never forgot. Even if she was tired, despite not even having had the chance to change clothes since they had arrived, she always remembered to care for him. A surge of energy travelled through him as she drifted to sleep in a matter of moments. He brushed the hair from her face and pulled the cover over her without disturbing the sleeping child.

For hours, he watched her sleeping, thinking of what he could never give her, what she could never have with him. It scared him so much that he had never dared to ask her if she was willing to give that up for him. Her mother was right. He couldn't give her everything.


When she awoke, her whole body felt stiff, sweaty and uncomfortable. The weight over her chest reminded her of the sleeping child in her arms. She couldn't help a smile as she looked upon the peaceful angelic features of the girl's face.

She turned to where she expected to see Geralt, but his side of the bed was empty, the bedsheets cold. Anxiety crept in at the thought of her mother harassing him with uncouth questions and ill-advised suppositions.

Her eyes wandered to the clock on the bedside table. It was 8 am already.

She gently pulled the covers off her as much as she could to ease the suffocating feeling of warmth and found herself secretly wanting Cassie to wake up so she could finally move. She barely finished her thought before regretting the selfishness it held, then resigned herself to serve as a pillow until Cassie woke up on her own.

Her thoughts drifted to the previous day, and fear gripped her again. While they were decorating the tree, she saw her mother talk to Geralt, and although she didn't know what she said to him, judging by his stony face and her icy stare, she could guess it wasn't good. Her mother had a talent for sowing the seeds of discontent. She had done the same to Krystal and succeeded in driving a wedge between her and Andy. Her mother had an innate talent for finding the weak spots in people and pressing on them until they hurt and bled. She only hoped that her seeds had not found fertile ground in Geralt's mind.

She replayed her conversation with her mother, how she pointlessly pleaded with her to give Geralt a chance. No matter what she said, she couldn't sway her. And she couldn't even be angry. She understood why her mother was so reluctant, but it didn't help the situation. Her misguided attempts at shielding her children from misery often ended in causing them more pain and had led to bickering worse than what everyone witnessed at the dinner table the previous night. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it. People rarely changed in their old age. All she could do was make sure Geralt knew just how much she loved him.

For a moment, she wondered if she hadn't made a mistake bringing him home so soon. Perhaps she should have given him more time, made sure he felt secure with her before exposing him to her mother's jabs. She sighed. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.

Her eyes wandered around the room, looking for a distraction to draw her impatient thoughts away. Just like Andy's room, her parents had kept her room almost intact, only making minor improvements after she moved out. They repaired the wardrobe doors that used to be a little uneven, the armchair had been reupholstered a while back and a matching ottoman was added. But when her eyes landed on the shelves laden with old pictures, a detail made her want to jump out of bed immediately. It stood triumphant amidst all the framed travel pictures. A photo of her and her old fiancee, kissing on the beach.

She barely restrained a curse and bit her lip. If she had seen it, then Geralt had seen it and he had made it perfectly clear that he wished to know nothing of her former lovers. His absence from the room, coupled with this discovery, made dark thoughts swirl around her mind. She drew a deep breath in and held it, trying to settle her nerves. Getting angry at her mother would serve no one. She cleared her mind and only focused on inhaling and exhaling. Even if he had a bout of jealousy, she'd explain, and he was sure to understand. After all, she wasn't the one who dug out that old photo and put it on display.

Thankfully, she didn't have to wait too long before Cassie stirred and opened her sleepy eyes.

"Morning, little one," she smiled and brushed the girl's hair with her fingers.

"Morning aunty Crissy, I fell asleep and didn't hear the end of the story."

"It ended well, I can tell you that."

The child yawned and stretched her limbs.

"Come on, I'll take you to your room. I'm sure your mom is waiting with a pretty outfit planned for you today. Tonight is Christmas Eve and we have to bake cookies for Santa."

Having said that, it was easy to get the girl back into her mother's care so that Criss could finally take a shower and change into more comfortable clothes before searching for Geralt.

When she descended into the living room, she found her father, Andy, and Theo in a heated discussion about the state of the government, but Geralt was nowhere in sight.

"Morning! I would love it if this family managed to get through one holiday or gathering without fighting about something." Her irritation made itself felt in her voice and Andy took notice and tried to make light of the situation.

"You know that's never going to happen and if it does, then it's not us, it's an invasion of body snatchers."

"Mhm, unfortunately," she said, unamused. "Have you seen Geralt?"

"He's outback, chopping wood. Mom wants to light up the fireplace tonight even though it's way too hot inside as it is. But you know, Christmas spirit and all that is more important than comfort."

She grabbed a coat and a pair of boots and went straight outside. Sure enough, she found Geralt splitting logs, swinging the axe with the skill of someone experienced. She saw a slight hesitation in his movement as she approached, meaning he had sensed her, but he didn't turn his head to her. Instead, he continued to set up the logs he wanted to break up. On the other side, Krystal was sitting on a swing, smoking a cigarette, watching him. She got close enough that he couldn't ignore her. She caught a small glimpse of his face, but it was enough to see his eyes to know he was in a dark mood.

"What's wrong?" she asked wearily.

He just shrugged. "Nothing. I'm just making myself useful," he said as casually as he could muster, but it sounded forced and she wasn't fooled for a moment.

"Did my mom say anything inappropriate?"

"No, she's been delightful," he snorted. "Seriously, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine to me."

She watched the succession of emotions on his face. Surprise, guilt, sadness, then that horrible poker face she detested, for he always used it to hide something bad underneath.

"If it's about the picture on the shelf, you should know I didn't put it there. My mother has an awful habit of doing crap like this, but I didn't think she would stoop so low. The man in the picture is Mike, and we were engaged and, if you must know, I'm the one who ended it and I have no regrets about it. This is the short version. If you want the long version, I'll gladly share it, but not here." She looked back at Krystal, who was still smoking, peering at them curiously, then lowered her voice and continued. "I never mentioned him because you made it clear you don't want to know anything about any exes. But if you have questions about anything or anyone, I'll tell you anything you want to know... and you know that."

"I know," he answered. "I want to talk to you, but I don't think here and now is the best place. Maybe when we get home," he whispered.

"I'd rather we just talk now. I don't want to spend the holidays stewing and thinking – no, imagining – what could be bothering you."

"Fine, just give me a moment, because I don't know how to say this... How to ask you..." He shot a look at Krystal. "Is there somewhere we can talk? Alone?"

She nodded, took his hand and led him far into the garden, away from any prying ears. They stopped under an old oak tree with bare branches.

"No one will hear us here. Now tell me, why are you angry with me?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I'm not. I'm not angry with you at all."

"Then what? Disappointed? Hurt? Tell me..."

"No, if anything, I'm disappointed in myself for being such a fucking coward. I never asked you and I should have, but I was trying to fool myself into thinking it didn't matter..." He shook his head again and looked away.

"Old relationships don't matter..."

"It's not about your exes, Criss..."

"Then what?"

"Please answer me honestly and don't think my feelings will be hurt. I just need to know... Do you want children of your own?" She was stunned in silence, so he continued, this time looking straight into her eyes. "Because it's perfectly understandable if you do. When I saw you with Cassie, you had that sparkle in your eyes that women get sometimes, and you were so good with her. I can't give you that. There's no family with me, no kids of your own, no future... But if that's what you want, then we're just postponing the inevitable…"

"Geralt... Kids are so much more complicated than that..."

"You could find a suitable man... I would step aside, and he could give you what I can't. Your mother was right. My best is not enough." Something flashed in his eyes. "I want you to have everything." He sighed and shook his head. "This is a shit conversation to be having before Christmas and at your parents' house, nonetheless..."

"Geralt!" He tried to open his mouth, so she quickly cut him off. "No! Stop talking and listen to me! It's true, I love kids, but even if I could have them, I wouldn't want to."

"You can't have them? But I thought… You hardly use Chaos..."

"It's not that, or at least I don't think. After Avallac'h's experiments, either he broke something, or they punished me for my shit choices, or it's some other trauma, I don't know, but I never bled again. But I'm not sorry for it and I haven't searched for a cure, because I don't want to bring a child into my shit life. Not when I know how much the Plan demands. I know there's no fairytale bliss for anyone, and chances are, if I ever had a child, they would have to sacrifice everything and anything. Just like us. Think of Ciri, think of what she went through, think of your own childhood, think of what might be asked of a future child, then think if you'd really want that. I don't. Not really. My life has been a trudging mess until I met you and I was resigned knowing that those were the cards I was dealt."

"And now?"

"Now I'm starting to believe that happiness is possible. But I still don't think it's common and I won't even dare to think about bringing another child into this."

For a few moments, he just stood in silence, looking at her.

"Would you be angry if I said I was relieved that this is your answer? My offer was sincere, and I was fully prepared to go through with it, but I'm happy that I don't have to. I spent the entire night contemplating all possibilities. Making peace with whatever answer you might give me. Thinking, really thinking of what I would be willing to do to see you happy." He closed the gap between them and cupped her cheek, his eyes boring into hers. "I would do anything it took."

"I would do the same for you. And you were right about one thing: this is something we should have discussed sooner rather than later. And since we're here, is there anything else you want to know?"

"Mhm, why did you break off your engagement? Your mother seemed to think he was perfect for you. I assume you loved him if you agreed to be engaged to him in the first place. So why didn't you go through with it?"

"You worry you'll share his fate?" she asked, amused.

"I just don't want to repeat whatever mistake he made and lose you."

"Then you shouldn't worry. You passed that test even before our first night together."

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "You were testing me?"

"Not purposefully. But you needed to train, so I had to give you a glimpse of me and I wasn't sure how you'd react. Mike didn't take it very well."

"You showed yourself to a human? That was bold of you."

"Stupid, not bold. I just wanted him to know me. Then I would have someone to talk to at the end of the day when I was licking my wounds. Someone to share the burden with. We had been together for many years, so I thought he would love me no matter what..." She sighed. "I can't forget the look of horror in his eyes. He feared me. I turned his world upside down in a second. I erased his memory of the conversation and ended it right then and there. After that, I tried again with someone like me, but he only wanted to use my skills. Then I just shut down and lost hope. Didn't want to try anymore."

"I'm sorry." He pulled her to his chest and held her in a comforting embrace. "I'm glad you tried with me."

"I'm glad too, but if I'm completely honest… I was just looking to get into your pants. I wasn't expecting to find love."

He chuckled. "That makes two of us."

She rested her chin on his chest and looked up, smiling. "We should get back before they think we've run away."

"Just a moment longer. I want to hold you a little longer and do this..." He leaned in and kissed her, coaxing her lips open for him. When she broke the kiss, he sighed. "I miss doing this more often. I miss other things too, but I'll settle for stealing kisses when I can."

"You can kiss me more often, you know. If you're worried about my family, you shouldn't be."

The look he gave her clearly stated his disbelief.

"You're joking, right? Your mom is a perceptive woman with a mean streak. I'm not sure she would appreciate seeing me with my tongue down your throat and I dread what might come out of her mouth if she did."

"Fine, then we'll just have to sneak away from time to time. It's not like we'd be the only ones doing it. Krystal has been practically living in the yard from what I could tell."

"Yes, she's been hiding out here for a while, but it works for her only because your mom equally dislikes her and is more than happy to see as little of her as possible. You, on the other hand, your mom actually wants you around, so it'll be more difficult for you to escape from under her vigilant eyes."

"True, but I have my ways when I need my dose of witcher kisses." She stared into his molten gold cat eyes. His pupils were almost normal in the morning light of the cloudy day. "So, we're good, right? Or is there anything else I should worry about?"

He answered with a hum and a passionate kiss that left her breathless.

"Let's go back inside. I have a feeling it'll start to snow soon and we're going to need that wood for the fireplace," she said.


Sure enough, it started lightly snowing within the hour and somehow he knew she had something to do with it. The knowing smile she gave him while dragging him to the house, the slight quiver of his medallion on his skin, he was sure she did something.

After starting the fire, he looked over his shoulder to see her gazing out the window. He quietly approached her and put his hands around her waist to pull her back into his chest. He lowered his head so his lips grazed her cheek, and he inhaled her sweet perfume. Apples, caramel and lime, as always. A comforting scent that suited her. Her breath hitched and her heart beat a little faster. With a subtle move, she tilted her head so her cheek was just a little closer to his lips.

Outside, large snowflakes drifted down lazily, slowly piling up in sparkling white blankets. It looked delightfully peaceful.

"This was your doing, yes?" he whispered the question into her ear, drawing in more of her perfume.

"Just a bit." She gave him a mischievous smile. "The kids wanted a white Christmas. I only sped things along. It was going to snow anyway, so I just gave the clouds a little nudge."

"It's beautiful. Looks like something out of a fairytale."

He kissed her cheek and hugged her tighter, moving one hand from her waist to her shoulder, feeling the curves hidden under her sweater on his way. At least for a little while, they were alone in the living room and didn't have to worry about anyone's eyes watching them. He had his fill of scrutinizing looks over breakfast. Now he could simply enjoy in silence the closeness and warmth of her body while they gazed upon the rapidly gathering snow and listened to the crackling of logs inside the fireplace.

Once the snow had piled high enough, the children could no longer be contained inside the house despite the continuing snowfall. Soon they were out and about, throwing snowballs at each other and rolling around in the snow with red cheeks. And after that, it was a matter of time before the adults joined in the fun. They organized into teams and treated the whole affair like a paintball tournament.

Luckily, the backyard had plenty of space and obstacles in the form of furniture and decor that could be used as shields from the icy bombs. Criss and Geralt ended up on opposite teams, and that suited him just fine. On his side were Lana, Cassie, Paul and Margo. He was thankful he didn't need to pummel her parents with snowballs, but he was looking forward to cornering Criss and using the game as an excuse to get at least a little under her clothes.

He hid behind a lawn chair and gathered some snow to form a few snowballs. To his side, he saw Andy running from one tree to the next while icy projectiles landed on his trail without hitting him. He was trying to get in closer for an attack, so Geralt decided to intercept him. He grabbed a few snowballs and carefully aimed at the parts of Andy's body that weren't shielded behind the tree trunk. It wasn't any different from throwing bombs at monsters - much less destructive, yes, but the mechanics were the same. His first snowball almost met its target, grazing Andy's shoulder.

As he was preparing to send another his way, he heard the gentle whoosh coming from an incoming projectile. He dodged it easily and checked to see who had him in their sights. Criss was looking over a turned over table with a satisfied grin and was aiming again at him when a snowball hit the side of her face and Lana cheered victoriously. He grinned and returned his sights to Andy, who had moved behind a flower pot that was not quite large enough to hide him.

Geralt scouted the area before moving in. He rolled from his hiding spot, easily avoiding the projectiles thrown by Theo and Tommy, and mid-roll, he aimed a snowball right at Andy's chest. It met its mark, and he nimbly dodged a few more snowballs until he reached the opposing team's side, where he pummeled Theo and Tommy with snowballs while Margo took out Krystal.

They kept on playing new rounds, shuffling team members around, trying to make the teams more balanced, but any team Geralt was on ended up winning.

"We should just all be one team against Geralt," Andy huffed, annoyed at having lost too many times.

"Sure, I don't mind," he replied with a confident grin, then dodged an incoming snowball thrown from behind by Krystal, who was trying to catch him by surprise.

"Do you have eyes on the back of your head or something?" she shouted, amused and irritated at the same time.

"Geralt, you're no fun! You're the only one who hasn't gotten hit even once! Don't you want to feel this lovely cool snow on your face?" Criss asked, sauntering towards him, one hand behind her back.

As soon as she got close, she hugged him and used the opportunity to shove a handful of snow in his face. It melted and trickled down his neck, making its way under his jacket and shirt.

"Ah! That's cheating!" he laughed, picked her up and spun her before twisting her into a tight embrace. He had her immobilised with one hand, while with the other he scooped up some snow and gave her the same treatment, smearing it on her cheeks until they turned bright pink.

"Fault! Fault!" she squeaked and giggled.

"Now it's a fault?" he joked and threw even more snow in her face, making her skin shiny and red. She tried to wriggle out of his embrace and he let her go, thinking she had given up only to have her duck down and throw up a pile of snow that scattered in a flurry and stuck to his face and hair. With that, their neat tournament turned into a free-for-all, with everyone trying to hit whoever was closest.

He didn't hesitate to dish out snowballs to everyone in range, as most of the family had him in the crosshairs. Seeing that he kept evading all attacks thrown at him, Andy moved his target to Criss, and the rest soon followed. It was revenge by proxy, so Geralt got between her and her attackers, shielding her behind his broad back and taking the hits willingly this time. Having sated their thirst for revenge, the combatants moved on to other less willing targets, leaving him the pleasure of finding ways of getting snow under Criss's clothes - preferably as close to her skin as possible.

She didn't shy away from doing the same to him and soon they were both dripping wet from the melted snow, heavily panting, with their hair stuck to their faces. Their frolic in the snow and the forbidden touches he stole made him growl in frustration, so he not so subtly suggested that they head inside to change before she caught a cold, knowing they wouldn't have much time before everyone else returned to the house and they all had to get ready for lunch.

They went up the stairs, with her leading him, his eyes fixed on her round behind, already imagining her bouncing on top of him. She looked over her shoulder with a devious smile that told him she was just as hot and bothered as he was.

She quietly closed the door behind her and pressed herself against his body, looking at him with a fire that would have melted glaciers.

"I think it's safe to say you won every match today."

"Mhm," he hummed against her cheek. "Do I get a prize?"

"I haven't one prepared, but feel free to take anything you like..." she said, biting her bottom lip.

"You really shouldn't tempt a witcher like that…" he replied as he pushed her up against the door, pressing his thigh between her legs.

His hands made their way under her clothes, his patience worn thin already. He needed to feel her, see her, taste her. Overcome by his insatiable need for her, he pulled on her jeans. The button that held them together flew off somewhere in the room, never to be seen again, and her zipper ripped apart. Normally he would have apologized, but then again… he didn't feel sorry at all. She had far too many clothes on her and tearing them apart looked like an appealing possibility.

Her skin was scalding hot as he pulled the sweater up over her head. He meant to take it off, but then a different urge overcame him and he left it tangled, hanging around her arms, pinning her hands above her head with one hand, while the other pulled the fabric of her bra under her breasts, making them pop out and push together.

"Fuck, you look so good like this, my little prize," he groaned as he reached down and pulled the ripped jeans to the top of her thighs before pulling her underwear to the side. "Reminds me of the first time I fucked you."

He leaned over her and grazed her neck up to her ear with his lips, breathing her in. "Don't move," he whispered, but his words were a command. She swallowed hard and nodded.

"You're intoxicating," he said, taking a step back to admire his work. "I can feel the desire dripping off you." He leaned back in. "I can see it too." His index caressed up her inner thigh to where her slick had already reached, taking his sweet time, spreading it over her skin, then licking it off his finger. "And taste it."

"Have you decided on your prize?" she asked, low and sultry.

"Perhaps. Not sure yet. Might need to look some more."

His fingers drifted again over her soaked skin and collected more slick. This time, instead of tasting it off his fingers, he spread it over one nipple, then the other, in slow circles, making them glisten.

She tilted her head back and groaned. "Fuck, Geralt! You're really going to be a tease now?"

He smiled mischievously. "Is this a bad time for it? Would you rather I do something else to you?"

"You could start by kissing me, at least," she suggested with a breathy voice.

"I could…" he let his words hang in the air as he leaned in. "And I think I'll start right here…" His lips touched the crook of her neck, and she sighed at the gentle touch they brought.

"Better?" he asked teasingly.

"Mhm, better, but one kiss is hardly enough."

He grinned and moved a little lower, placing another kiss below the first, then another further down, and another until he reached her collarbone. His hands wandered over her, cupping a pert breast, reaching back to grab her ass. Next, his mouth stopped over a breast, licking around the pebbled nipple before sucking it into his mouth, tasting her wetness off it. It was delicious, but it was even sweeter when he ghosted her inner thigh and found her even wetter than before. He was dismantling her. Slowly, thoroughly, she was falling apart into little burning pieces that yearned for him and no one else. She shivered under him and made to untangle her hands from the sweater.

"I didn't say you could move," he taunted, with his lips near her skin. She stilled and groaned in response and he chuckled, removing the sweater himself. "If your arms are tired, you can hang on to the door frame for me while I collect my prize."

She did as told, but shot him a smouldering look, full of pent up desire and frustration in equal amounts.

"You haven't even kissed me yet."

He smiled and pulled a nipple into his mouth, then moved to the other, leaving his thumb to play with the first one, drawing small circles over the wet skin.

"Doesn't this count?" he asked, once again teasing.

"Fuck, Geralt!" she moaned. "Kiss me on the lips…"

He chuckled darkly and knelt before her, kissing her lips as if they were her mouth. Long sweeps of his tongue over her slick skin dragged breathy sounds from her.

"Not what I meant," she said between staggered breaths.

For a moment, he stopped and looked up at her chiding. "I could always stop if you're complaining."

"Fuck no! Please…" she begged.

He grinned and let his hot breath wash over her skin, not giving her yet what she wanted. "Please what?"

"Please do whatever you want. Touch me, kiss me… fuck me… Please…"

His tongue swept over her again and his hands pulled the jeans further down to her ankles. Her underwear followed, and she stepped out of them at his silent request. His hand wrapped around her ankle and pulled it to the side to spread her legs wider, then ghosted up her leg until his fingers reached her core. He barely grazed her, and yet she shuddered under him, driving her hips forward, uncontrollably searching for some form of release. He kept his fingers in place and let her push into them, driven by maddening lust. She rubbed herself onto his hand, twisting her hips to find the best angle while he watched, mesmerized by her descent into insanity.

She gasped and her breathing quickened as she moved ever faster against his fingers, but a faint noise made him pull back his hand and a frustrated moan escaped her lips. She looked pleadingly into his eyes, not understanding why he was denying her pleasure.

He licked his fingers and pinned her hips to the door with one hand, drawing his mouth closer to the apex of her thighs.

"I need you to keep silent. They're back in the house, I can hear them downstairs," he warned in a low voice, before dragging his tongue over her, tasting the mess he caused between her legs.

She drew a loud breath to refrain from moaning and closed her eyes in ecstasy. He paused for a second before repeating the movement back and forth. She didn't even need the pressure. Even the slightest touch was enough to make her thighs quiver. He paused again and let his index run over the length of her, from back to front, then back again before slipping it inside her and feeling her clamp down on it. His middle finger followed.

"Criss!" her mother called for her.

He pinned her with his gaze as his tongue pressed slowly between her legs, flicking over her clit as his fingers almost went out of her completely before slowly pushing back in up to the knuckles. Her walls tightened over them as he thrust into her repeatedly while he laved over her clit, giving her no more reprieves. He was ready to see her fall apart under his hands and tongue.

"Criss!" the voice called again.

She swallowed hard. "Yes!" she called back with her eyes closed, but the heaviness of her voice betrayed the nearing of her peak. Her knuckles turned white as she grabbed the frame to keep herself standing.

"Criss! Come down to help me with lunch!" her mother called out.

"I'm coming!" she shouted back and gasped as she bared down on his fingers with her heart beating out of her chest, riding the wave of pleasure brought on by his mouth and hands. He held her up with one hand on her hip while she steadied herself on the door frame. His tongue applied pressure until he felt the last remaining contraction fade, then kissed the inside of her leg before slowly removing his fingers and licking them clean. She opened her eyes, but her breath was still heavy and staggered. She slid down to the floor alongside him and knelt in front of him. Her fingers traced a line from his jaw down his neck to his chest, then his abdomen, finally reaching their destination on his hardened cock.

"You still have your pants on. We need to take care of this," she bemoaned and made to unbutton him. He grabbed her wrists and shook his head.

"We don't have time. If I get started on you, we won't be leaving the bedroom anytime soon."

"It can be quick."

"I don't want quick. I want slow and thorough. "

"I have no intention of leaving you to walk around the house like this. Instead of arguing with me, you could have your cock down my throat right now."

He groaned at the image her words put into his mind. It was getting harder to use reason by the second, yet he tried.

"I don't want your mom walking in on you sucking me off."

"The door is locked. No one will be walking in."

Saying "no" to her was near impossible. He wanted her too much no matter the risks, so he relented and her hands slipped out of his grip. She quickly undid his pants and dragged them down to his thighs, before leaning forward to go down on her hands and knees. He leaned back onto his heels as her tongue licked from his balls up to the tip of his cock, gently wetting the sensitive skin before taking him into her mouth halfway. With the next stroke, she took him in entirely. She was determined to get him off and was making use of all his favourite spots without fault. Her tongue felt like the perfect caress, her lips tightened up and down his cock as she sucked him into her mouth. Now he was the one stifling his grunts and moans, choking on his breath and hitching his hips to go deeper down her throat.

He looked at the alluring arch in her back as she rested on her forearms with her ass up in the air. He reached out to caress the curve of her ass before giving it a squeeze and slipping his fingers between her legs again. His touch got her sucking more vigorously on his cock. "Fuck," he cursed between breaths. She was sucking on his cock like his cum was her favourite nourishment. He skimmed over her clit and for a moment she lost her rhythm, moaning around him instead. There was nothing more pleasurable for him than to see her enjoy herself. He kept on thrusting his fingers into her and his cock down her throat, drawing even more moans from her until he came so hard it left him weak and dizzy. Her tongue drew out every drop of cum he had, gently stroking the underside of his shaft before moving on to the tip to drain him.

"I'm sorry we don't have time for more..." she whispered, with her mouth still next to his cock, stroking and licking the last throbs out of him.

"You're not the only one..." he said in the low voice that always made her shudder as he removed his fingers from her. "Right now, I want to ruin you so badly you won't be able to walk straight for a week," he continued and punctuated his words with a slap over her ass.

"Criss!" they heard the impatient call of her mother once again.

She huffed, annoyed. "I need to get dressed now, but I promise that tonight I'll give you the complete, slow and thorough version of whatever you like."

"I'll hold you to that." He watched her stand up in all her naked glory, the inside of her thighs still dripping wet with slick and saliva. She outstretched a hand to him - not that he needed it, but it was a welcome reminder that he also needed to get up and get dressed in clean, dry clothes.

"Criss!"

"Stop shouting, I'll be right there!" she finally yelled back.

She dressed as quickly as was humanly possible and left the room in a rush before the yelling turned into knocking on their bedroom door. He, on the other hand, was in no rush. He tactfully undressed and laid out their clothes to dry, picking up everything she had left scattered in her rush. Finally, he pulled out some fresh clothes and got dressed.

Once he was ready, he went downstairs, hoping to join her in the kitchen, maybe steal a kiss or a grope while her mother's attention was on something else. To his dissatisfaction, Margo chased him off, stating that the kitchen was no place for a man - quite an old-fashioned view in his opinion, yet there was no arguing with her. He was left to wander around the house in search of something to do.

He passed by the study where Andy and Paul were busy discussing the merits of the design he and Criss had created for Build Core. It brought up some memories he didn't wish to revisit so soon. Even if their encounter with the vampire had ended well, the image of Criss almost dying in his arms was too fresh. He left them to it and moved on. His next stop was the living room, where Theo and Lana were playing cards with the children. It wasn't something he fancied, and it was a game suited for pairs, so they apologized for not being able to invite him to join them.

In the end, he found he wanted nothing else except to be around Criss. As he walked back down the corridor that led to the kitchen, determined to find a way to be let in this time, a strange sound coming from the basement drew his attention. His witcher instincts were so entrenched in him that he couldn't pass by a mysterious sound and not investigate.

He descended the stairs to the basement to find Andy's wife, Krystal, bent over a large table covered in bright green fabric, aiming a long pointed stick at coloured balls strewn over the surface of the table. For a moment, she raised her eyes to meet his, smiled crookedly and hit the white ball with full force, propelling it into a coloured ball which shot out hitting the side of the table before disappearing into one of the pockets of the table.

"Looking for a game of pool?" she straightened herself and rubbed chalk on the pointed tip of the stick.

"Not really. I was on my way to the kitchen and heard sounds coming from the basement. Thought it was worth a look."

"Mhm," she hummed knowingly. "When you only have a hammer, everything looks like nails."

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, confused and slightly offended.

"Oh, nothing... Andy said you're military or government or something of the sort, so I guess you must see terrorists, burglars and danger everywhere. It's pointless here, but at least it comes in handy in snow fights..."

"Mhm, I'll go find some nails somewhere else, clearly there are none here." Another one pinning a tag on him, he thought as he turned to leave.

"Don't go!" she called, and her voice had a mix of desperation, boredom and drama. "We should be friends!"

"And why is that?" he indulged her.

"Because we're the outsiders. We should make a common front against the oppressing shrew. No one else is going to take our side! And don't be fooled into thinking you can sway her to your side. I've already made that mistake and let me tell you, it didn't turn out well."

"Is that so? And here I was, thinking I had already made some headway."

A burst of shrill and overdramatic laughter escaped her lips.

"You don't look like the naïve type. Especially after what I heard you and Criss talk about this morning, you should have wised up." She rounded the table and leaned back to rest on it. "You think that old picture made its way to the shelf accidentally? No, my dear naïve comrade and brother in suffering, she put it there because you will never measure up to Mike in her eyes and she wants you both to know that. And it's only a matter of time before she turns Criss around to her point of view. You shouldn't be surprised when you start hearing your dear Criss sound like her mother, bitterly reproaching and criticizing the same things," she said with an air of smug superiority.

"Mhm, sounds to me like you're talking about Andy."

He watched her face change from arrogant to bitter, her lips curled as if she had just eaten something unpleasant. He thought it was strange how such beautiful features could be made ugly by a sour expression and couldn't hold back an arrogant smile of his own.

"No need to look smug. You haven't discovered El Dorado. It's common knowledge in this family that we don't get along. But it wasn't always like that. He used to take my side, defend me from the shrew. Slowly but surely, she burrowed into his brain, planted accusations, distrust, and made him despise me, think of me as a gold-digger. Now, whatever I do, I can't climb my way out of the hole she dug for me. Anything I say is just another shovel of dirt atop of my assassinated character."

"It's none of my business, but calling her 'the shrew' is doubtful to help you climb out."

She huffed. "I've given up on getting her to like me and calling her a shrew is at least giving me a little personal satisfaction."

"Maybe, but you haven't given up on Andy or you wouldn't be here. And I don't mean hiding in the basement, I mean here at his parents' house, trying to survive the holidays. You clearly don't enjoy it, but you're here anyway. It's only reasonable to assume he's the reason."

"Hmm, perhaps you're not just a hammer after all," she said, looking at him with a smidgen of respect in her eyes.

"You really do have a way with people... I'm surprised they're not all laid out at your feet. With your tact and diplomacy, you should be at least a queen."

"With your wit and sarcasm, you should consider a career in comedy."

"Maybe it's an option for when I retire. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be making my way to the kitchen."

"Good luck with that," she snorted. "When that doesn't happen, you're welcome to join me for a game of pool."

With that, he took his leave and went up the stairs, ready to make another attempt at getting into the fortress that was the kitchen. His first attack had been rebuffed because his gender was unsuited for kitchen work, so he decided on a more direct and honest approach, albeit one that was riskier. He boldly entered the room to find Criss making her delicious sour cherry cake while her mother pealed some potatoes.

"I already told you, this is no place for you. Go wait with Andy until lunch is ready!" Margo immediately reacted as soon as he came into her sights.

"I'm not here to help, I'm here to watch," he boldly fought back.

"Watch what exactly?" she asked, squinting at him.

"It's more about who than what. And I mean Criss, of course. She's a pleasure to look at, no matter what she's doing. Surely that should be considered a... manly activity."

Margo thought for a moment and in the end, conceded. "Fine, you can stay. Just don't touch any of the food. I hate it when you boys stick your fingers in the pots before everything is done."

"Don't worry, I already ate my fill," he answered with a meaningful glance at Criss, who blushed and turned away from her mother. Thankfully, her mother either didn't understand his meaning or just chose not to acknowledge it.

For a while, the two women worked in silence and Geralt just watched as they prepared the dishes that were going to be served that day. The food smelled great and made his mouth water. Now he understood the warning her mother had given him. He was very tempted to sneak a taste of the food.

"That was quite a display of skill today," her mother said to him as she stirred a pot.

He assumed she meant the snowball fight. "Thanks," he replied dryly.

"But it makes me wonder who was fast enough to give you that nasty scar on your face," she continued. "It looks especially ugly, and I'm surprised you still have your eye."

She certainly had a way of getting under people's skin, but he wasn't planning on giving her the satisfaction of angering him. And Criss was looking at her with dismay, too shocked to say anything.

"How do you know it wasn't a childhood accident? Maybe I just tripped and fell on my face," he retorted with bitterness, fighting the urge to rub his fingers over his scar as if the gesture could erase it.

She stared at him more intently for a moment. "No, it looks too fresh and the edges are too clean. Like it was made by something sharp. Perhaps a knife or a machete. One does not just stumble and fall face-first into such a thing. So, who fast enough to disfigure you?"

He never thought of his scars as an appealing trait, but it had been a while since anyone had insulted him so thoroughly under the guise of thoughtfulness. Keeping his composure, he took another risk with his answer. Perhaps it would dissuade her from asking any more inappropriate questions.

"It's more a question of what, not who. It's better if we left it at that."

"Did you fight bears or something?" she asked, amused.

He smiled, knowingly. She wasn't far off the mark. In fact, he had fought a bear in a small village in Skellige. And that wasn't the first time he was pitted against an animal in an arena. On different occasions, he had fought a troll and a vigilosaur. And the scar she asked about was made by the sharp talons of a cockatrice, but that was a story best kept for another time.

"It wasn't the bear," was the short answer he gave her, hoping it would be jarring enough to stop her in her tracks.

"Then what was it?" she asked, unaffected.

She was relentless, a trait Criss had clearly inherited from her, but had put to better and less annoying use.

"Does it really matter? He fights dangerous things to keep everyone safe. Isn't that enough?" Criss intervened. Obviously, she had had enough of her mother's tactless questions.

"Of course, dear, you're right. Besides, there are other things I'm more curious about."

Geralt braced himself and schooled his features as best he could, already dreading what was about to come out of her mouth.

"Things like your relationship with your ex-wife," she said to him, then turned to Criss. "Even if I assume you'll object to this too, you can't claim I have no reason to ask. After all, I'm sure you'll bump into her at some point, considering they have a child together."

Criss opened her mouth in protest, but Geralt beat her to it.

"The short of it is we were never married, and Ciri isn't our biological daughter. Her parents died, and I became her guardian. Yen helped me raise her and is still helping both of us when she can. There's nothing left between us except our common care for Ciri. Does that satisfy your curiosity? After all, I assume you weren't after her dress size or her eye colour." Although he made an effort to keep his voice level, it still betrayed his irritation. Had she been anyone else, he would have added something more bitter to drive home the message, but under the current circumstances, he bit his tongue and swallowed his pride for Criss's sake.

Margo attempted to say something more, but she barely opened her mouth when Criss cut her off.

"No, mom, no more questions! That's enough! I don't need your help in uncovering anything about him."

"I just..."

"I know you want to make sure I don't get hurt, but this is not the way to do it. Geralt hasn't wronged you or anyone in this family and the way you're behaving towards him is appalling and, frankly, shameful. He's a guest, and he's been nothing but courteous, so it's time you behave accordingly."

"I'm just asking questions, nothing more..."

"Yes, questions based on prejudice and the assumption that there must be something wrong with him. And you keep insulting him while doing it." She abandoned what she was doing, took off the apron, and threw it on the counter. "You can prepare the rest yourself. I need to take a break. Let's go, Geralt."

"No, Criss," he said to his own dismay. "You need to stay and talk this out. I don't want to be the reason you fall out with anyone in your family, especially your mother. Tonight is Christmas Eve, and I don't want you to spend it upset and arguing on my account. I won't lie and say I enjoy being questioned, but if that's what it takes, then I'll gladly do it." He looked at her mother. "Is there anything else you want to know?"

"No," Margo answered after a long pause.

"In that case, I'll leave you to your preparations. I'm sure I can find something to entertain myself until the table is set." He leaned in, kissed Criss on the cheek and whispered an "I love you" into her ear to make sure she knew he wasn't upset at all.

He left the two women to settle their differences and hopefully make up. No, not hopefully, surely. If he knew Criss at all, their spat would be forgotten in a matter of minutes.

As he walked by a window, he caught a glimpse of movement in the front yard. It turned out to be Paul, who was struggling to shovel the snow off the driveway. A little physical activity would do him good considering the veritable feast that was being prepared in the kitchen, so he went out and help him.

He passed by the basement door again, and this time, very different sounds were coming from below. It looked like Andy found his wife, he thought to himself with a smile. He shook his head and chuckled. That hiding place was worth remembering for later.


She was finally done helping in the kitchen. Now everything was prepared not only for this day but for Christmas as well. She looked over the counters at the many dishes, pots, pans that either needed to be washed or stowed away - another titanic chore, but one she could pass off to Lana.

After so many hours in the kitchen, she was curious to see what everyone else was up to. She had barely had a chance to chat with her cousin, or anyone else. As she walked out of the kitchen and down the corridor, she spied Paul, Geralt and Theo in the front yard, shovelling snow and laughing. Finally seeing Geralt laugh and have a good time with her family improved her mood immensely. Her mother's treatment of him had been awful while he was so gracious and understanding. But the way he handled her made her love him even more - if that was even possible. He was right that she needed to patch things up with her mother, and she had to thank him for insisting on it. If she had left in anger, she would have regretted it and it would have ruined the rest of their stay, not to mention that it might have reinforced her mother's want to pry them apart. Instead, her mother was softened by his obvious care for her. In fact, her mom was the one who suggested she go spend time with him and let Lana finish the kitchen work. It was her way of telling her she was accepting him without saying the words.

Seeing as everyone was busy and no one would miss her presence, she went upstairs to take care of Geralt's present. She bought presents for everyone on both their behalf, but what she got for him was special. So special that it couldn't be found in any shop in this world. She had it commissioned for him from Master Albion on Idris, the best blacksmith in all the worlds and the only one the best warriors of her kind used. The only problem was she couldn't travel herself, so she enlisted Sama's help to get it done. She focused her mind on her guardian's name, and it was enough. He appeared without a sound, holding the sword sheathed in its scabbard in one hand, its tip resting on the ground next to his feet.

"Greetings," he said in his calm, deep voice. "I assume this is what you called me about." He lifted the sword and held it level.

"Thank you for speaking to Master Albion for me. I trust you assured him that I'll settle the debt as soon as I'm able to travel again."

Sama nodded. "Yes, he expects you to enchant a dozen swords upon your next visit."

"Bloody pricy, but I expected no less for what I requested. Let me see the sword."

She took the scabbard from him and weighed it carefully. Even if she never used swords herself, she had aided in their magical enhancement often enough to know what to ask for.

The entire sword measured around 40 inches in length, with a hilt of 6 inches. On the round pommel of the hilt, laid a single large onyx set in silver. The black stone looked like it had been sunk into the molten metal before it cooled, trapping it forever, and the black composite grip felt slightly rough to the touch, ensuring the best handling possible. The final touch she asked for was the crossguard, shaped in a downward semicircle with a feather pattern on it, making it look like a pair of wings.

Drawing the blade from the scabbard, she examined the edges. They were sharpened to perfection, made from an alloy that would cut even through some metals without denting. It was everything she had hoped it would be. There was only one thing missing, the last touch she needed and wanted to add herself.

She opened her luggage and reached into one of the small pockets to pull out what looked like a small rock. For a moment, she held it between the tips of her fingers, feeling the power it possessed before drifting its edge over the empty fuller of the blade. Glowing runes appeared in its wake and the rock got progressively smaller until it disappeared. The enchantment was complete.

Sama looked at the inscription and smiled.

"Fitting for his purpose," he said.

"I'm glad you approve. I hope he'll like it. Thank you for your help. I owe you."

"You owe me nothing. It was my pleasure. May he use it well."

She gave him a thankful smile, and a shimmer of warmth made its way to his eyes.

"Now I'm needed elsewhere. I shall take my leave. Enjoy the rest of your vacation. I expect to see you on Idris soon enough." He bowed his head and disappeared just as silently as he had appeared.

She sheathed the sword and looked for a place to hide it until Christmas morning when she would gift it. Her original plan had her telling him about it on Christmas and gifting the sword when they were back home, but now that she knew he could stow it in his luggage on the plane without issues, she could give it to him earlier.

After resolving the issue of Geralt's gift, she could go back downstairs and catch up with the rest of the family. It felt like ages since she sat down and relaxed. The first person she ran into was her cousin, who was watching TV in the living room.

"Anything good?" she nodded towards the television screen.

"Not particularly. Just killing time, trying to forget how hungry I am. Shovelling snow really drives an appetite. Although, I must admit Geralt did most of the work."

"That sounds like him."

"If you're looking for him, he's out back chopping more wood. I don't know where he gets the energy. Maybe it's time for me to start working out again. Old age is catching up to me."

"If you're complaining about old age, that makes me and Andy geriatric by comparison," she complained, amused.

"Neither of you look it. Maybe I should start using lotions like you women. Lana swears by that cream you gave her, says it took ten years off her face."

"Great, because I have another one in my bag with her name on it." She elbowed him. "But don't tell her just yet. It's supposed to be a surprise."

She had prepared slightly enhanced products for all the women of the family. Perhaps she should have done the same for the men, but she doubted she could get any of them to use them.

She went on to ask him about his job and the goings-on in his life since she had last seen him. He dismissed any talk about work and instead preferred to talk about his kids and their achievements. They were his whole life now. Had anyone told her this would happen, she'd have laughed them off. Not to Theo, who swore never to be married, never to have kids, and most of all, to never spend a Saturday night at home. Oh, how love could change a man!


It was finally evening, and as he was coming out of the shower, he wondered if this night they'd get a chance to be alone. His question was answered when he returned to find her in the bedroom, sitting in the armchair, with one leg crossed over the other, waiting for him.

"I spoke to Lana to make sure Cassie doesn't come by for another storytelling session tonight. I've also given all the presents to my mom to put under the tree once the kids are asleep." She stood up with a graceful move. "Well, almost all the presents," she said, playing with the silk cord that held her robe closed as she walked up to him. "There's one last present I need to take care of."

His pulse raced, thinking of laid underneath her robe, and a smile spread across his face. She was only a step from him now.

"Is this my Christmas present?" he asked, cupping her hip with one hand, while the other skimmed under the edge of the material that covered her chest, down one side and up the other, lightly grazing the skin underneath.

"Mhm," she purred. "But that's just the wrapping paper you're toying with. Open it and see the rest."

He pulled on the bow, and it unravelled, taking him with it at the sight of what laid hidden underneath. Her black lingerie was cut out in all the right places, and lace-trimmed stockings hung on the delicate strands of the garter. Without a second thought, he pushed the robe off her shoulders and it slid noiselessly to the ground. He needed a moment to take it all in. His fingers glided over the thin bands that covered almost nothing and yet made her look even more alluring than if she was simply naked.

"You asked me to put a bow around myself, and I did. Tonight, I'll do anything you want. Your wish is my command," she said. "So, tell me what you want." Her voice, low and seductive, sent shivers through him as he devoured her with his eyes.

"What I want…" his fingers traced the curve of her breast, and she trembled in anticipation, "is to bring you pleasure, so perhaps I should be the one asking what you want," he said, looking into her eyes.

She smiled and smoothed her hands over his shirt, down his chest, over his stomach, to the waistband of his pants.

"Making you feel good is what would give me pleasure."

"Hmm, so we're at a stalemate?" he asked wryly.

"So it seems."

"In that case… I have a proposition for you." She raised an intrigued eyebrow at him. "How about we take turns asking the other to do something for us? Or to us."

"Mmm, a game," she said, bringing herself closer to him and pinning him with her heated gaze. "I love games. Do you want to start or should I?"

"Ladies first, always," he replied with a smile.

Her fingers traced a line up the middle of his stomach as she thought for the shortest second.

"I'll start you off with something easy." She took a step back. "Undress for me."

He smirked and pulled his shirt over his head, then took off his pants without fuss. She gazed up and down his body with a look of appreciation at the state of arousal she had produced in him.

"Real easy, that one," he said, taking a step towards her. "Maybe I should have done a little ass wiggle to spice it up."

A devious smile bloomed on her lips. "There's always next time."

"Mhm, but for now, it's my turn." He took both her hands in his and led her back to the armchair, then sat in it. "Come here. Sit." He patted his legs.

She rested a knee against the outside of his thigh and balanced on it to straddle him.

"Like this?"

"Mhm, perfect." She tried to lower herself onto him, her hand already reaching out to guide him in, but he stopped her. "I didn't say to ride me. Just sit and let me look at you." His hands caressed up from her knees to her thighs and rested on her hips. A beautiful woman was standing on top of him, eager to please him, not knowing that her simple presence was enough to bring him happiness. And all he wanted was to do the same for her, be everything she needed him to be, anything that brought her joy.

"That's all you want?" she asked. "To look?"

He shook his head. No, he didn't want just a look. He wanted much more. "I want you to kiss me."

He cupped her jaw as she leaned in. As he closed his eyes, her lips grazed his in a smooth kiss, moving from his bottom lip to his top lip, slowly working to coax them open, and in a moment, in his mind he was standing once again on the dance floor with her in his arms, having their first kiss. He could almost taste the cranberries on her tongue as it finally swept against his. And just like then, she moaned into his mouth, yearning for him to deepen the kiss. He did. Slowly, with patience, he explored her with tender care, cradling the nape of her neck against his palm. But it wasn't like their first kiss. It wasn't a raging fire that consumes and takes; it was a gentle ebb and flow, both giving in to the other, demanding, eager, and adoring. A kiss that expressed everything they felt for each other. And this time, she didn't break the kiss. She let herself be carried away by his tenderness, soaking it up and delighting in it. This time, it wasn't a forbidden, stolen kiss she needed to apologize for. It was simply a token of love to be relished.

Instead of breaking their kiss, he turned the languid game into gentle nips of her lips. "Your turn now," he said between nibbles of her mouth. "Tell me what I can do to make you feel good."

She hummed against his lips and caressed down from his shoulders to his arms, all the way to his palms. "Touch me, just like this." Taking his hands in his, she guided them to her waist, up the side of her ribs, then released them and he continued to draw slow patterns on her skin, careful not to miss an inch, lingering over her pebbled nipples, going up to her collarbone, then down her arms, only to move up again and down her back, smoothing over her shoulder blades.

Soft moans escaped her, her face entranced as he traced her body. "Have I ever told you how electric your touch feels?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Electric? Like static?"

"Not quite. It's hard to describe."

"Is it good?"

"Very," she purred. "I feel the energy coming off your body and it's permeating through skin, muscles and bones, down to each nerve," she spoke with her eyes closed, sinking into his caress as a palm ghosted over her lower back, the other climbing up her neck to cradle the side of her face. "At first, it echoes inside of me, like I'm hollow, but then it builds up, filling me with something I never knew I needed." She sighed and arched her back. "Mmm, your turn," she said.

His hand cupped the side of her face, his thumb grazing her lower lip, slightly pulling it down. She leaned into his hand and her lips opened and wrapped around his finger.

"Is it just my hands?" he asked, as she sucked on his finger, while his other hand skimmed over a pert breast.

"Mmm, it's your whole body," she replied with a wry smile. "I feel it when you go down on me. And it's on my tongue when I suck your cock. It's highly arousing." She licked up his finger. "You still haven't told me what you want."

"Haven't I?" he asked, amused. "I wanted to hear you speak. To tell me how it feels when you're with me. When I do this…" His hand rounded her hips and dipped between her legs, skimming the soft wet skin at the apex of her thighs. She shuddered and moaned loudly. He chuckled. "Although, maybe not so loud, or else your family will hear."

It was her turn to laugh. "You're one to speak," she hummed with her eyes closed as he kept on caressing her sex back and forth with gentle touches. "You practically told my mother you ate me out before coming to the kitchen and now you're worried she'll hear me enjoy myself?"

"Was I that obvious?"

"You were to me." She moaned again and arched into his hand for a moment before moving away. "I know what you're doing."

"And what am I doing?" he asked, once again caressing up her body.

"You're cheating."

"Am I? How so?"

"You're using your turn for my pleasure instead of yours."

"Or maybe I'm just a vain asshole who likes to hear how much you like it when I… fill you, I believe you called it."

She leaned in and nibbled on his earlobe. "Then I'll be vain as well. I want to hear you talk dirty to me. Tell me how this feels." Her hand skirted down his chest, his abdomen until it reached his hard cock. She ran her index over his length, then through her own slick, before spreading it over his cock and using it to stroke him.

"Fuck," he gasped as her hand moved up and down in a steady rhythm. "That feels so fucking good!"

"That's all?" She chuckled.

He tilted his head back and groaned. "It's hard to think with your hand around my cock." He cupped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft curves. She kissed along his neck as he spoke, never faltering in her sensual caresses. He swallowed hard and inhaled, holding back a moan. His arms coiled up and around her ass, lifting and pulling her to him, tilting her upper body towards his. She steadied herself on his shoulders with one hand while the other continued its relentless motion.

"There's nothing like the feel of you around me. You. My little nymph, my prize, my present. You'll be my undoing… Your deft fingers, your hot mouth, that wet cunt of yours…" She shifted in his lap, his words driving her lust. This time, she rubbed her fiery core over him, sending a jolt of electricity through his body that interrupted all thoughts.

"I want to feel you inside me," she purred into his ear.

"Is it your turn already?" he asked, amused.

"Do you even care anymore?"

"Not really."

"Good, because all I know is that tonight I want you to fuck me hard so that by dawn I'll forget all words aside from your name!"

"Your wish is my command. Tomorrow the sun will rise with my name on your lips," he growled back against her ear as he held her for a moment, just hovering above his cock, before lowering her slowly onto him. The heat of her around him trickled like honey as he sunk into her, unwilling to ever let this feeling go. She gasped as he bottomed out inside of her and, for a moment, he didn't even feel the need to move. But her nails dug into his shoulder as she balanced herself over him on the first rock of her hips, a sweet reminder of what pleasure she could offer him.

His hands pushed her up in a quick movement that made her bounce on top of him. She tightened her grip on his shoulders and rocked her hips again and again while he kissed along her neck, dragging whimpers out of her. His tongue licked from her collarbone up to her jaw, then bit on the side of her neck as she moved up and down, gliding along his length with increasingly erratic movements. Unerringly, she was heading towards her climax, and close to driving him mad. He could feel her dripping over him, her body responsive to his every touch and kiss.

"Don't stop," he demanded. "Ride me for your pleasure. Fill yourself with me. Come for me. Let me feel your hot cunt clench around my cock." His words coaxed her into her orgasm. With a loud moan, she arched into his chest, with her eyes closed, enraptured and lost in him, throbbing and humming all around him as she rode the wave that swept her up. It took every ounce of will he had not to come right alongside her.

He lifted her off his cock, leaving her to hover above it for a moment. She let out an undignified groan of frustration and he couldn't help his smug grin as he looked into her eyes. Seeing her hungry and desperate for him, even as she came, was something he'd never tire of.

"You need to be quiet," he warned her in a low voice and bit her earlobe. "No need to let your whole family know how much you love my cock."

She whimpered again. "I can't help it and when you talk like that..." She sighed and offered the side of her neck for him to bite and suck on. "It drives me crazy to hear you."

"Then I'll keep talking as I fuck you stupid. I promised you this night and I intend to honour my promise."

His tongue swept along her throat, ending with a kiss under her jaw while he stood up. He carried her to bed and laid her down, but when he climbed on top of her, the bed gave out a disgruntled sound and creaked loudly. He attempted to move over her, but each movement was matched by a sharp squeak coming from under them.

"Shit!" he groaned, annoyed.

"Ignore it!" she cried in desperation.

"I can't! Not only will everyone know we're fucking, but, instead of sheep, they'll be counting each thrust until I'm done with you." She stifled a snort of laughter, but her expression quickly changed to one of disappointment as he lifted himself off her. With one hand around her ankle, he pulled her to him, then lifted her off the bed again. With the other, he dragged the covers, pillows and eiderdown off the bed so they now formed a messy pile on the floor before dropping her on top of it.

"You didn't think I'd give up, did you?" he asked with a grin as he nestled himself between her legs.

He lowered himself over her and kissed her while his fingers drifted down her body and between her legs. "Electric, you said?" he asked with a wicked smile. Each lick of his tongue against hers was matched by a thrust of his fingers and a swipe of his thumb across her clit. Soft sounds turned louder, and he swallowed each one as she purred under him, well on her way to another orgasm.

"Don't resist, just let go and come for me again," he urged her.

"Fuck, Geralt," she called against his lips as her whole body quivered and shook, overcome by pleasure.

For a moment, he kept his fingers still, relishing in the feel of her release, then pulled them out only to replace them with his cock. She whimpered from the overstimulation, still thrumming around him as he slowly sheathed himself in her.

"I can still feel you echo around my cock." He stroked up her body, from her thigh to her breast, cupping it and holding it as he licked around her hardened nipple. "Tonight I want to see just how hard I can make you come."

She trembled and sighed, her fingers tangling in his hair, scratching lightly against his neck. "I don't think I can come again so soon."

"Who said anything about soon? I'm in no rush," he said, grinning, still rolling his hips against hers.

He moved slowly, letting her come back down before guiding her to another peak. Languid thrusts of his hips, accompanied by open-mouth kisses along her neck, were the interlude to the next rise. Her body relaxed under him, pliant and willing, and she was once again ready to be built back up. His hand pushed on the inside of her knee until he was satisfied with how wide her legs were spread, then made its way under the knee to hold her leg in place while his hips thrust forward once more, picking up the pace.

His every movement was accompanied by a moan from her. His lips sealed hers, trying to stifle the increasingly loud sounds she was making, but found that he himself needed to control the urge to grunt and moan when she tightened around him. If he didn't do something soon, he'd be coming right alongside her in a few more thrusts.

He pulled out of her and used his grip on her leg to flip her face down, giving himself a break. His hand smoothed over her hamstrings and ass, delighting in the feel of her soft skin. His thumb teased her cunt, just prodding it before grazing down to her clit to draw circles around it. She keened loudly and arched into his hand.

"You really should be quieter, or we'll be stared at over breakfast," he chided, amused.

"I'm trying. Believe me," she said, looking back over her shoulder, biting her lip as he kept on stoking the fire between her legs. A few more strokes and she buried her face inside the pillow to muffle a moan. "You might have to cover my mouth," she whined. "It just feels too good to keep quiet."

He lifted her hips to meet his and dove into her, thirsty for more, holding her hips with one hand while the other grabbed her shoulder and kept her from moving away. The arch in her back and the sight of her round buttocks slapping against him had him hypnotised. There was no cure for it. No matter how hard he fought, the heat building inside him wouldn't dim, and she was close as well. Her climax approached fast, and she could barely control the sounds she was making.

His hands coiled around her breasts, lifting her and drawing her back against his chest.

"You're so fucking insatiable," he cooed in her ear. "And you're taking me so well. Practically soaked for me. I could die inside this sweet cunt of yours."

She whimpered in reply to his words as her climax approached. Fingers covered her mouth just as she came around him, but when she opened her lips to suck them into her mouth, eager and mad with lust, it felt so good he regretted only having one cock to fuck her with. With that lewd thought in mind, he couldn't hold back any longer and rose to the peak of ecstasy. He had edged himself so far that, when he finally came, it felt like an ocean crashed on top of him, drowning him, giving him air, then pulling him under again. And she continued to suck and lick his fingers while he came, as if wanting to coax even more cum from him, then twisted her neck back to kiss him and pushed her hips into him once more. Looking for a hold, his hand drifted from her neck to one of her breasts. With a deep breath, he kissed her shoulder and back before pulling out of her, then laid on his back on the messy covers and looked at the ceiling. For a moment, he thought he could see stars.

She hummed satisfied next to him and he echoed her sentiment. He was sated. At least for a little while.

"Come here," he said, lifting his arm to welcome her against his side.

She nuzzled against his chest, with her cheek pressed up against his skin, her arm reaching across his body to coil around him fondly. For a while, they just laid there in peaceful silence, exchanging tender caresses. He stroked her shoulder and arm, up and down, then up again, only to move along her neck to her chin, tipping it up to look at her.

"Have I told you today that I love you?" he asked.

Warmth permeated her gaze as she reached out to cup his jaw, stroking her thumb across his cheek. "You can tell me as often as you like, I never tire of hearing it. And I love you too." Then a bit of mischief snuck into her smile. "I also loved the ending, or better said endings, you gave me tonight. For a moment, I thought you planned on fucking me to death."

"Not sure which one of us would have died first," he said, laughing. "I just couldn't decide on a single ending. I still have a few more in mind and I want to try them all before the night is done. We'll just have to see who survives by morning."

With that said, he twisted, taking her with him and placing himself on top of her once more. He leaned in to nibble at her neck when something behind her caught his eye. There was something under the bed. He frowned and pinned the item with his gaze, and her eyes followed to see what drew his attention. When she saw it, she started laughing.

"I should have found a better hiding place for it, but I didn't count on spending the night on the floor."

"What is it?" he asked, focusing his eyes to make sure his sight wasn't betraying him.

"Your present," she answered with a grin and kissed him. "I might as well give it to you now since you already know where I hid it."

She reached under the bed and pulled out a beautiful black scabbard with silver details. He took it from her hands and examined the hilt before unsheathing the blade. The craftsmanship was exquisite. He drew the blade a few inches, but he could already tell the quality was flawless and the edge looked sharper than any he had seen.

He stood up, naked as he was, and drew the blade fully from its sheath. It was light in his hand. He twisted it in his wrist and it drew a full circle through the air, then he lifted it to the side and swung it in a semicircle before twisting it again in his hand to create a whirlwind of silver around him. It was manoeuvrable, too.

She sat still on the messy covers, watching him with a strange look in her eyes, something between arousal and eagerness, so he executed a few more moves with the sword. He had figured long ago that she found his prowess with weapons arousing. Whenever he trained with her, that evening she'd be pure fire between the sheets. And due to his new job, she hadn't seen him with a sword in a while.

He examined the blade once again and ran his fingers over the magically engraved glowing runes.

"This is perfect for my hand. Did you make it yourself?"

"No, that's something I can't make. I had it made off-world, or rather I asked Sama to do it on my behalf. The only thing I did was to add an enchantment to it." She stood up and walked up to him. Her delicate fingers ran over the fuller in a slow, sensual movement. "The alloy is a special one our warriors use for their weapons. It's the only thing that can damage the creatures of the Underworld and the recipe for it is known only by a few. Without it, I can't create it. I enhanced the blade to absorb magical damage and store it for you to release upon your enemy. After our fight against that Fallen one, I realized you might need this. Your silver isn't enough, but this blade can kill anything. It is a deadly work of art made for the best warrior."

"And the inscription?"

"It's an old language. It means: Life, death, balance. Out of Darkness, I bring Light." Her fingers drifted over the runes as she spoke. "Do you like it?" she asked, looking into his eyes with hope.

He couldn't help his smile. "I love it and I love you." He tasted her sweet lips once again, then carefully sheathed the sword, and went to his bag to get the red box wrapped in a bow that held his gift for her.

"Since we're exchanging presents, I got you something too."

"You didn't have to go through the trouble, you know."

"I wanted to, I just hope you like it. Merry Christmas," he said as he handed it to her. "That is what one says, right?"

"Indeed," she said, beaming at him as she took the box from his hands.

He waited anxiously for her to open it. She pulled on the bow and unwrapped it carefully before lifting the top off it. The look of surprise and amazement in her eyes was confirmation enough that he had picked something to her liking. In the box sat a thick rose gold bracelet weaved from thin strands into a fractal pattern, with diamonds marking the centre of each delicate shape.

"Geralt... It's gorgeous! I'm speechless!" She picked it up and handed it to him. "Help me put it on?"

He clasped it around her delicate wrist, caressing the length of her forearm.

"The fractal pattern reminded me of the endlessness I saw in you and I couldn't think of anything more fitting..."

Her lips silenced him as she dragged him back down onto the pile of covers. The fire was once again stoked, and a few touches from her were enough to evoke a powerful response in him. He delighted in her kiss, letting the flames consume him while her hands explored his body with sensual care.

They both took their time, building a castle out of gentle caresses and smooth kisses, their own place where they could be one with the other, where time trickled to a halt because neither of them wanted the moment to end. Over the night, they tore down the walls of the castle, only to build it back up with patience, each time different, but always theirs, until sunrise found them, naked and sweaty in each other's arms, tired and still yearning for more.

With one arm was around her, holding her close, he drew lines on her naked skin with the tips of his fingers, watching the goosebumps they left in their wake.

"Looks like we both survived, and your name stayed on my lips the entire night. Are all witchers so… true to their word?" she asked him with a wry smile right after dawn's first light shone through the curtains.

He chuckled low. "I wouldn't know, and I hope you never try to find out."

"Don't think you need to worry about that. You're plenty more than I can handle."

"Was I too much?" he asked while his hand caressed up her arm, to her shoulder, and his thumb brushed over a fresh bite mark.

"Never," she replied, looking at the mark. "You're perfect and I love you."

"Still, you should do something about the lovebites I left on your body last night, else your family might think I'm secretly abusing you."

He pressed his fingers on the side of her neck where he had left a particularly large one, then moved them to her breast where small indents from his teeth were still visible. Her body was marked all over by such tokens of his presence. Maybe some would say he was subconsciously trying to brand her as his, but he'd say he simply got carried away, especially when her thighs flexed around his hips, holding him inside her so she could feel every wave of pleasure that ran through his body. And he wasn't the only one to leave a testimony of his presence on her body; she had done the same to him. The teeth marks she left on his shoulder when she bit down to keep herself quiet during a particularly powerful orgasm were proof of that. She hadn't silenced herself completely, and her moans still echoed in his head. He hummed. Just the memory of them was enough to get him riled up.

With one move, he pulled her onto him again and buried his head between her breasts, leaving a trail of kisses on her skin. She giggled and held herself up on her arms, trying to move out of his reach.

"It's morning. You've already fulfilled your contract, witcher," she said between muffled laughs. "Are you always this zealous?"

"Oh, I feel like I could go the extra mile for this patron. Add a little something on top to sweeten the deal," he replied in small breaks between kisses and licks. "Plus, I want us to start the day right."

She sat up on top of him and he followed her, his lips still clinging to her skin.

"We should go wash up and get dressed before they start banging on our door," she bemoaned but didn't make any move to stop his kisses or his roaming hands that found purchase on her hips.

"They're still sleeping. I can hear them snoring."

He continued to kiss along her collarbone and shoulder while she hummed and tangled her fingers in his hair. Her hips lowered to let him sink into her with a sigh. Once again, she rode him slowly, easing into a steady rhythm. She twisted her body and offered her breast to him. He let himself enjoy the feel of her directing his movements and obediently suckled on her tit.

Her fingernails grazed the back of his neck and he felt the cold touch of her bracelet on his skin. It was still on her wrist. In fact, it was the only thing she was still wearing. However much he had liked the outfit she had on the previous evening, the items had proven to be too fine for his hands and gave out as soon as he pulled slightly harder on the thin bands. Not that he pulled on them on purpose. Not at first, at least. He just needed to cling to something and the thin bands were all he found. But then he discovered that ripping the rest off her body offered him another kind of primal pleasure.

She tilted her head back and exposed her neck. Taking the hint, he moved up, leaving a trail of wet kisses from her breast to her jaw. His tongue searched for that sweet spot on her neck, the one that without fail made her moan. And as she did, her pace quickened, fighting to remain steady. Wanting to help her along, his hands planted firmly under her buttocks to lift her up, only to slam her down hard. He made her bounce on his lap until her nails dug into his shoulder, leaving small crescent-shaped indents. Each one was a token of her desire for him.

Clinging to his neck, she gasped with her breathing erratic and soon enough her whole body shuddered, accompanied by a string of loud moans. She bit her lip and exhaled hard with a satisfied look in her eyes. He gave her no reprieve. Instead, he twisted, taking her with him and securing his place on top of her. He paced his thrusts until she moaned into his ear, then the rolling of his hips sped up while his hand reached under her to hang on to her round behind. The feel of her under him was something he could never get enough of. It was a pleasure to watch her breath catch in her throat, to have her nipples rub against his chest with each move he made and her warm breath wash over him as she gasped for air and rode out another orgasm, pulling him into his own.

He was still enjoying the last waves of pleasure when he heard noises around the house.

"Shit! I think we woke someone up," he warned her, amused.

"Can't wait until we're home and I can scream my lungs out if I please. It's a different kind of torture to stay silent when you feel so good inside me."

He chuckled and kissed her neck. "That strokes my ego in so many ways I can't even begin to explain."

He spent a few more minutes just laying on top of her, not wanting to pull apart from her body, using this time to run his hands over her breasts and kiss her soft lips while she ran her fingers through his hair in a tender caress. It was a bliss he never expected to find, and yet it was his. She was his.

Eventually, she pushed against his chest with a smile, and he got up. He reached for a towel and ran it over the soft skin between her legs and over her inner thighs.

"You don't need to bother," she told him. "I'm going to go take a quick shower in a minute, then we need to clean up around here."

His eyes moved over the room, the bed was in disarray, all the covers and pillows were laying on the floor under them, bits of her clothing were strewn about the floor, nightstand, even the lamp, his shirt and trousers laid somewhere near the door along with her robe, the sword she gifted him was in its scabbard next to the armchair, the empty box in which her bracelet had sat next to it.

"Seems we have a penchant for disaster, but at least we didn't destroy any furniture this time," he said with a sigh as he glanced over the mess they had made. She giggled, and he met her eyes with a raised eyebrow to see her nod towards the bed.

"It seems you forgot the reason why we spent the entire night on the floor..."

He scratched his chin and grinned. Indeed, the broken bed had slipped his mind.

"I'll join you in the shower then we can clean up together."

She put on the robe, and he grabbed the towel off the floor to wrap it around himself. The house was still quiet, but they didn't want to risk bumping into anyone, so they hurried to the bathroom and took a quick shower. They got back to their room in silence and sorted the whole mess so thoroughly that no one would have suspected anything was amiss. Unless they sat on the bed, of course.

By the time they were done, the rest of the house had come alive, so he packed the sword in his bag with care and they both went downstairs to greet everyone and open their presents.


The children were already in the living room, tearing the wrapping paper off their presents with gleeful faces. Lana and Theo watched on and shared the little ones' joy. Paul and Margo walked in carrying plates of sweets and bottles of soda. Criss and Geralt exchanged a glance and a smile.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" they both greeted in unison and were met with the same enthusiastic reply.

"Where are Andy and Krystal?" Criss asked, curious as to why her brother was missing from the picture.

"Who knows? They keep disappearing, but I'm sure they'll show up... eventually," Margo answered, a tad annoyed. "Come, open your presents! No need to wait for them. Who knows when they'll be back."

"There's no rush. It's not like the presents are about to melt or anything. But we'll join you for some cookies. I'm famished," she admitted and reached out for the plate.

Her night with Geralt, as amazing as it was, had also been demanding on both of their bodies. The lack of sleep had taken its toll, and she felt the need to bolster her energy with something sweet, even for a moment. She was sure he felt the same, even if he'd never admit it.

They sat on the couch with a plate of sweets and for once she thought she saw Geralt actually enjoy them. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that, in fact, he was biased towards her cake and another sort of sweet that had butter and lemon filling. As usual, he was leaning towards foods that had a mix of sweet and sour to them. His tastes were as steady as the man himself.

Geralt looked at the terrace door even before it opened and Andy walked in hand in hand with Krystal. For once, they both looked happy and judging from their red faces and Krystal's messy hair, they weren't the only ones having a bit of fun in the morning. She hoped that this holiday season would mark their permanent reconciliation.

"I hope you haven't started without us. I have a special present for each and every one of you." Andy looked around. "Yes, even for you Geralt! I was sure she'd bring you even before she knew herself."

Criss looked at Geralt, whose face posed the unspoken question of "What is he talking about?" made even more obvious by his raised left eyebrow. She snorted, raised her eyebrows and her shoulders in the universal reply that meant "Your guess is as good as mine!"

They didn't have to wait long for the question to be answered. Andy went under the tree and began tossing packages to each of them. They all unpacked them in unison, all - except Geralt - a bit reticent about the contents. Had he known Andy longer, he would have surely shared their sentiment. Once the presents were unwrapped, they all burst into a fit of laughter. All but Geralt, of course. He had no way of knowing that this had once been their family joke and horrible tradition at the same time.

"I see we're doing a revival Christmas this year," Lana laughed as she showed off the horrible Christmas sweater that was hidden in her box."

"It was about time," Margo, of all people, joked and pulled the sweater over her head.

"What's this about?" Geralt asked her discreetly, obviously wanting in on the meaning behind their words.

"It's our joke tradition. Each year, one of us would get all the rest of us the worst Christmas sweaters he or she could find, always trying to one-up the ones from the previous year. We all have a bunch of them, it's like a family collection... And now you have one too," she explained to him between giggles, then remembered she had forgotten to tell him about the worst part. "Oh, and we all have to wear them for the whole day!"

The look of shock and disbelief on Geralt's face was worth the sweater's weight in gold. He held up the awful-looking item that not only had garish colours, but the words Merry Christmas were spelt out in sequins.

"You must be joking!"

"Not at all!" And to prove it, she pulled the sweater over her head and showed it off proudly.

"Fuck!" he swore, bit his lip, looked around at the rest of them as they donned the ridiculous items, cursed some more in a hushed voice, then conformed to the tradition. She couldn't help but burst into laughter. He looked hilarious, but then again, they all did. Once she calmed her laughter, she explained the reason behind their strange custom.

"It's our little secret weapon, so none of us can ever be sad at Christmas. It's enough to look around and see the ridiculousness to make one laugh. But it also reminds all of us that we are all a family and we stand together no matter what differences we may have at one time or another."

"At least there's a good story behind it." He looked down at the sweater again and shook his head. "If anyone knew... I'd never live it down..." He looked downright unhappy.

"If it makes you that miserable, you can take it off. I'll tell them you were allergic to the material or something."

"No!" he said categorically and added a wave of his hand for additional emphasis. "I appreciate your willingness to let me off the hook, but there's no need. I'm grateful to have been included in this tradition. It's not often I've been accepted so warmly, even if not by all." His eyes darted for a quick second to her mother. She knew what he meant.

"Mhm, you've been accepted," she leaned in to whisper, "even by her. You've made a good impression on her with your little stunt in the kitchen. That should be an achievement in itself. And this," she pulled slightly on the fabric of his sweater, "means you are a part of the family in their eyes."

"I'm honoured, thank you." He gave her a peck on the cheek then added just for her ears. "This may be the worst thing I've ever worn, which is saying something considering we all dressed up in Yen's clothes one night after way too much vodka."

It was her turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow and an unspoken question, but seeing that he was pretending not to notice, she had to simply ask.

"Who's we? And what's the rest of the story? Sounds like a wild night. Maybe you'd care to elaborate."

"Umm… Me, Lambert and Eskel had one drink too many and what happened after that was what always happens when we drink too much... Besides finding out way more about them than I had bargained for, Lambert's ideas start sounding brilliant when they are in fact the epitome of stupidity." She giggled and raised a curious eyebrow to nudge him on. "Ugh, Lambert wanted to invite some sorceresses over for drinks and... you know... and somehow that led to us dressing in Yen's clothes so they'd think we were members of the Lodge," he sighed. "Tried to use the megascope, but we were too sloshed and botched it. Scared some poor chap, made him shit his breeches, thinking the Lodge had come for him." He sniggered. "Of course, Yen caught us and shut it down. That's about it." He ended with a shrug.

"Sounds like loads of fun," she surmised with a smile.

"If you hang around me enough, you'll get to meet them and then you're sure to see something of the sort - or worse - happen at some point. If I haven't scared you off by then, you'll be sure to run."

"I'm more resilient than you think." She winked at him. "Now come, let's raise a glass to health and happiness. Tomorrow we fly back and soon you'll be home. Then I'll get to meet your family."


A/N: The small detail is that Geralt gets a new sword made from a special alloy that can kill any monster (including the ones he's newly encountered) and is enhanced to absorb and reflect damage onto his opponent.

The story about him riding a dragon is a reference to Witcher 2.

Next update might come a little late since it's another big chapter and I haven't decided if I should split it into two or not.

Hope you liked the festive chapter, and even if you didn't, I still wish you all the best and lots of love! Happy holidays and a great New Year to everyone!