Terri's Peep Hut ~~ Fiction Archive

Author's Notes: This turned out unaccountably sappy. I guess I was just in the mood for it.....I really have no excuse.

Marie has been just way over-the-top with this Christmas stuff. Lights, baking, shopping, wrapping gifts, even a little tree of our own, in the corner of our room. She does it all full-throttle - when I suggested that perhaps nine different types of cookies would be sufficient for the mansion's holiday needs, she looked at me as though I'd suggested inviting Magneto over. "Logan," she said, "we haven't made any peanut butter blossoms yet." Hell, I don't even know what they are, but to her, it's some kind of Christmas necessity.

As anyone can probably guess, I'm no merry little elf. Generally, the holidays don't mean a whole hell of a lot to me. Now, granted, this time around it's a little different. I'm living in a house, not in a camper, and I've got a warm, sweet woman to lie down with every night. It's all good. And I am appreciative. So, I figured, I'd get a few presents, help Marie decorate our little tree, and grin and bear her holiday insanity. It's only temporary, anyway, right? A few more days, and it'll be all over.

Well, today Marie gets it in her head to play some Christmas music while she's wrapping presents. I like to think that I don't have such a hair-trigger temper that this would've irritated me to no end normally. But with all the baking and decorating and presents, it just bothered the hell out of me all of a sudden. It was like some kind of last straw. And I knew I wasn't going to be able to not say anything about it. All I could hope for was not to come across like a total asshole.

"Do you think we could not play that music?" There, not bad. I just sound pissed, not homicidal. Which is how I feel, especially given that now we're on to that damn Chipmunks song.

"Oh, OK." She has a certain smile for times like this, times when she's trying to make up a little for something with me. It's a cute smile, and I think it means she knows I'm not really mad, just a little miffed. Like when she accidentally left some plastic hair contraption in the bed that stabbed me in the rear end when I got under the covers. "I guess I'm getting a little carried away." I can't let that pass without an arched eyebrow. "Oh, OK, a lot carried away. It's just the first good Christmas in a while, you know? I'm excited."

'Well, you know, last Christmas was Mystique.....and before that, well, my family always had some kind of blow-up or argument around the holidays, and, by the time Christmas rolled around, nobody was talking to each other."

Well now I feel like a Grade A asshole. I didn't know it was Christmas when all that shit with Mystique went down. Here I was sending her some generic Christmas card from a British Columbia truck stop while she was getting tortured. Excellent, Logan. And to top it off, you won't let her listen to Christmas songs now that she's having her first non-torture or family dysfunction Christmas. You're such a great guy, Logan. You, the Marquis de Sade, Attilla the Hun, Hitler, Stalin, you know, just a bunch of great guys.

"Logan, just because all that stuff happened last Christmas doesn't mean you have to listen to awful Christmas music if you don't want to. Don't give me that face."

"I wish you would've said something. I didn't know it was Christmas when it happened." That sucks, God, that just puts the cherry on top of the suck cake. To have all that happen to her at Christmas -

"Actually, it was Christmas Eve when they found me. I was still pretty out of it on Christmas day, though. But by New Year's I was starting to train for the team."

"Come here." It's times like this that I've just got to hold her. All of a sudden, she's way too far away, across the room like that. When I start thinking that I could've lost her, could've gotten some note or had to hear Scooter tell me over the phone.....I just have to hold her.

"Logan, come on, it's OK. I know I'm getting a little much with all this. Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't snap when I put up the lights around the bathroom doorway." She's snuggling into me now, she knows when I need her close. "You don't have to do things just for me. I want you to have a good Christmas too."

"Yeah, baby. Listen, how about this? Christmas music, but not that one. Do we have anything country?" Can't really let go of her just yet.

"Logan? Hey, everything's OK. You don't have to feel bad or anything." Oh now she's looking up at me with those big eyes. She wants me to have a good Christmas. Hell, that's already a done deal since I get to spend it with her.

I've already got one present for her. At the mall, with Jubilee. One carat square cut diamond earrings. I think the poor kid nearly swallowed her tongue when I laid out two grand in cash for them, but I swore her to secrecy on pain of death by claw. I know Marie'll like them. She likes jewelry, and she especially likes jewelry from me. I mean, hell, she still wears the dogtags.

That one present isn't going to cut it, though. Not for the best Christmas ever. I've got to think. There's got to be something else she'd like. Maybe not a present, but something I could do for her or with her. Something we don't ordinarily do. Something that'll push back the memories of Mystique and put some good ones in their place.

I should probably consult Scooter; he's good at the romantic mushy stuff. I could consult Jean or 'Ro. They're both women, they'll know what women go for. I could ask her little friends, Jubilee and what's-her-name. They know what the little things that Marie likes are. But if I consult with anyone, it won't be just from me, and, not to be arrogant, but, whatever I do, I think that'll be the most important thing to Marie.

"It's almost midnight. You have to be asleep before midnight for it to count." God, I love that she can joke and play like this. If I'd had done to me what happened to her, I think I'd just crawl under a fucking rock and be done with it. She's so much stronger than I am.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She still always blushes a little when she catches me naked. "I thought it was your turn to dress up for bed. I'll go put on some - "

"It will be in a few minutes. I didn't have time to wrap it, but, here." I hope she likes the color. I thought it was the perfect shade of green. Of course, the saleslady at JoAnn Fabrics looked at me a little strangely when I asked if she had seven or eight yards of gauzy fabric in green- I guess I'm not their typical customer - but it was well worth it.

"What's this for?" She's looking at me amused now. Her eyes are sparkling a little, and she's got that tilt to her head that makes me weak in the knees.

"Take off your clothes." I think she's beginning to get the idea now. I won't push her to if she doesn't say yes off the bat. She's been getting a little bolder with me since we talked about what happened, but she never deliberately lets me see her totally naked.

She's looking at me so intensely right now. I wish I could just freeze this look, this moment. "All right." She takes off her clothes very slowly, taking her time. When she's naked, she looks back at me shy and uncertain, but I know she must trust me a hell of a lot for this. God, she's beautiful.

"What are we going to do?" Her voice is so soft, just a whisper, and so easy. I told myself I wasn't going to do this, but I think I have to kiss her. Just once, on the top of her head. Wrap her up nicely, cover her head too, like a hood. It is the perfect shade of green. She just glows.

"We're going to go to sleep, and wait for Santa to come. Come here baby, let me put you in bed." Big wet tears are starting to fall, and I can tell it was the right thing. I'm going to lie her down, on her side of our bed, and wrap myself around her, just like the first night I stayed.

"I'm glad you like it, baby." She feels so warm, so soft. Never felt quite like this through clothing. I can feel her body expand as she takes in a breath. I can feel the vibration of her heartbeat. I can feel the softness of her curves against my body and the silk of her skin through the cloth where her body has warmed it.

She sounds so honest, so trusting. I told myself I wasn't going to, but just one more kiss wouldn't hurt. Just a gentle, soft one, on the back of her shoulder. "Yes, I want to sleep with you, holding you just like this. Then I want to wake up with you and go look for Santa's presents."

She hasn't said it yet tonight, and I wonder if she forgot or if she's just waiting, like she sometimes does. She's said it every night that I've slept in her bed, but tonight I want to say it to her.

I woke her very early. Here, all of this time, I was sure she'd be the one up at the crack of dawn, eager to open presents and get on with Christmas. But it turned out to be me that couldn't wait.

We opened our presents in our room first. I don't think anyone else was up yet, the house was quiet. I kept her in bed, wrapped in the green fabric. I asked her to open mine first - I really was excited. Maybe I am a merry little elf after all.

You know, she could've wrapped up a lump of coal and I'd be damn happy with this entire holiday thing. I think I actually did manage to make it good for her, maybe her best ever Christmas, and that's the important thing.

"Come on, don't just look at it, open it." She's smiling big now, practically bouncing up and down on the bed. I used to think that it was because she was still so young, such a kid, that she did things like that. But anyone who's been through her life to date is no child. Now I realize that when she does those things, it's because she's Marie.

"All right, all right." It's a small package, but exquisitely wrapped. I can't remember the last time I got a present for any occasion. I want to be careful when I open it, want to take my time.

"You don't have to wear it if ..... " She's really nervous about this. Really nervous. She wasn't sure how I'd take it. Knowing her, she wanted to give it to me but was afraid I'd feel like she was asking for a commitment, or for me to stay. She doesn't like to ask for those things, even though I've told her it's OK. Even though I've told her I'll give them to her.

"Hey, I love it. I'm not ever gonna take it off. Please, put it on me, on this hand, here." It's not a wedding ring, but that's where it's going.

"Absolutely." Her hands are shaking, and she's being very careful because both our hands are bare. When it's on, she setlles back to look at me a little. She must see what she needed to because she's smiling now.

"Merry Christmas, Logan." It is, it really is. For both of us. For the first time, it is a good Christmas for the both of us.