A/N: Would you look at that? I only made you guys wait… 10 months for an update this time around! (I'm so sorry!)

Quick shout-out to the people who have reviewed so far. I read through all of them recently, and they sparked some motivation for this story. I love it when you guys give me your thoughts on what's happened and what might be up around the corner!

No more fucking around with an author's note that I know you're not even reading, because of how ready you are for this chapter to start. I hope you enjoy!

Lucy pulled the blanket up higher around her face to fight against the blustery winter wind reddening her nose and chapping her lips. They'd been flying across Fiore for a few hours already, and had already stopped at the second of their two stops for the day. Now it was a matter of leaving that particular town for another, then finding some sort of lodging for the night without seeming like a couple of lunatics dressed up in these costumes.

The job itself really was simple, too, which she was just so thankful for. The matron of the first orphanage had struggled to get the kids in order when they'd seen Santa. It had been anarchy. Except Lucy hadn't been able to control her own smile when she saw how excited the children were just to find out that Santa was real. That he hadn't forgotten about them. That he'd taken a break from making toys and preparing for the holiday, all to make a special trip, just for them.

Elfman had been the perfect Santa. He'd smiled so wide, and he'd laughed just like he was supposed to. His ho-ho-ho's were spot on, even if his bulging muscles kind of messed with the image. But even the never-ending questions about Santa, where's your tummy? and Did you go on that kettle diet like Miss Constance? didn't seem to faze him in the slightest.

But right then, as she watched the sun setting far off to the left and soaked in Elfman's ever-present warmth, Lucy found herself more than ready for a small dinner and a warm bed.

"Elfman?" she whispered, looking up at his profile when he hummed. He didn't meet her gaze, but kept watching the sunset with the smallest smile visible under the long moustache and beard that Cancer had given him to complete his look. "I never knew you'd be so good with kids."

"It's not all that hard," he said softly. "And being Santa is even easier."

"Oh?"

He chuckled, and the sound was so low that she silently leaned closer to the vibration in his chest. "When my parents were still alive, my dad used to dress up as Santa. Every single year."

Lucy smiled and returned her gaze to the sky ahead of them washed in soft sighs of pink and orange.

"He mostly did it for Lisanna," he continued. "But it was one of the only times we could get Mira to play along with something like that. Lis was too young to realize that Mira was Santa's helper."

"I've seen a picture of you guys when you were younger in the guild," she said. "I can't imagine that Mira doing it."

"She wasn't really like that too much before we were on our own," he said. "But with our parents gone, and then her magic manifesting… I think she felt like that's how she had to be to take care of me and Lis."

Lucy just couldn't understand it though. Yes, she and everyone else knew that Mira had a dark side to her - that was a given - but even after having heard the stories of her rivalry with Erza, it still didn't make sense. Then again, maybe it was just something she never would understand about Mira Jane Strauss. Lucy hadn't lived her life. She hadn't dealt with the same struggles while trying to care for younger siblings.

"But one time, Mira was sick around Christmas," he said, drawing her attention to him once more. His smile widened and his large hand covered her shoulder. "I remember my dad saying to me…" She blinked in surprise when he finally looked down at her and all the humor faded from his expression. His brows drew together and his jaw tightened, pulling his lips down into a half-frown that made Lucy feel just a little guilty for… something… she couldn't be sure what, but she felt guilty over it. "He said, 'If you wanna be a real man, you'll make your sister smile.'"

She didn't say anything at first, but Lucy definitely wondered if that was where he'd gotten his Real Man speeches from.

"I was so shy back then," he laughed, "But it was for my little sister. So I played the part of the cheery elf for her."

"I bet she loved it," Lucy said. He just nodded, and they remained in silence for several long moments. She wondered what it must have been like, having a family like the Strausses once had. A mother and father, three kids. Lucy was almost envious of Elfman for having grown up with his sisters so close to him like that. For having sisters in general.

"How about you?" he asked. Lucy glanced up from her place under his warm, comforting arm, and found his bright blue eyes gazing down at her. "Any fun holiday stories from when you were a kid?"

"Not really," she said, hiding the deeper flush to her cheeks in the blanket. She discreetly scratched her stomach to relieve some of the chafed, itchy feeling that the costume had been giving her all day. "My parents used to do fun stuff with me when my mom was alive. Decorating the tree and all that. But then after she died… Well, it…"

"It changed, huh?" he asked. Lucy nodded, and when he didn't push for more information, she breathed a soft, barely audible sigh of relief.

Sometimes she wanted to talk about what life was like after her mother died. Most times, she didn't like thinking about it. But every once in a blue moon, she did want to talk about it. It was just that she also felt oddly alone when those times came. Because there wasn't anyone in the guild that could relate to it. Just like she couldn't relate all that well to Elfman's stories about growing up with his sisters.

Besides, usually when she did bring up something about living in the Konzern, all she got in return were weird looks. Ones that seemed to scream, "But you lived in a mansion, how could life really be all that bad?" or "Sure, just rub in how filthy rich your family was."

So, Lucy had grown even more accustomed to keeping those stories to herself. She didn't like the feeling of people thinking she was a snob based on her father's past success.

But there was one story that stuck out to her, just like it did every year around Christmas. Just a single memory that always made her smile.

"Well," she began slowly, "There's one." Elfman's attention shifted back down to her, but Lucy refused to return his questioning gaze. "It was before my mother got sick. We went out with…" It wasn't that big of a deal to say it. She could say it. "With the servants into a wooded area on the Konzern's property. There were some of the most amazing pine trees there."

When she closed her eyes and took a breath, she could smell the rich scent of pine and fresh snow all over again even as they flew over a snowy field with no trees around for miles.

"My father brought an axe and we all played a game. Whoever found the best Christmas tree was the winner."

"What was the prize?" he asked softly, and her lips lifted just a little more.

"A whole tin of cookies and getting to put the star on the tree," she laughed. "We got into teams of two, and me and Mama got lost. Mrs. Spetto - she was one of our maids - found the best tree and my father cut it down himself. It wasn't until later that they realized me and Mama hadn't come back."

"Were you alright?"

"Yeah," Lucy laughed, a little harder this time. "By the time they found us, we were too busy making snow angels together to be bothered with trying to find our way back." She finally did look up at Elfman when his booming laugh filled the air. "I even got Papa to lay down in the snow and make them with us."

"That's a great story," he said. "I can't remember doing anything like that with my parents."

"What about with your sisters?" she asked.

His head tilted from one side to the other as he thought back through the years. "Not really. Maybe once before Lisanna went to Edolas, but I just watched."

"Are you telling me you've never made a snow angel?" When Elfman shook his head with a sheepish little smile, Lucy gasped. She grabbed the reins from his hands that were connected to the front of the sleigh instead of reindeer, then veered them off course and down toward the ground.

"Lucy, what are you-"

"We're fixing this," she said quickly.

"You're gonna crash!" he bellowed while trying to reach for the reins again. She yanked them away once more and the sleigh wobbled. "Lucy!"

The wind rustled the blanket near her face as they picked up in speed. But she was having far too much fun listening to the way Elfman shouted in horror over the angle they were descending at. Granted, Lucy had never steered a sleigh before. She'd never had the opportunity, not even with one that stayed on the ground instead of flying. And her only real experience with flight in the first place was with Happy carrying her.

Between one moment and the next, it clicked. She didn't really know what she was doing here. They were barreling toward the ground at breakneck speeds. She tried to remember how Elfman had steadied them previously when a particularly nasty updraft had tried to upend the sleigh, but it wasn't coming back to her. She couldn't remember how to do anything aside from hold onto the reins in a quickly tightening grip.

"Pull back!" he shouted.

Her hands didn't move. Her muscles tensed as the crisp white snow-covered hill beneath them grew closer.

"Lucy, pull-!"

They crashed into the snowy hill with enough force that she was sent flying several feet from the sleigh. The way she landed was jarring, with her face hitting the white flakes well before her feet arced up and over her head in the most painful backflip known to mankind. By the time Lucy was lying on her back with a mouthful of snow, she was sure Elfman would be there at any second to rip into her over her stupid decision.

It took several minutes for the clouds in the sky above her to stop spinning, and in that time Elfman still didn't show up. When she finally found the will to roll onto her side and slowly pull herself up to sit, Lucy was actually just a tad bit worried. "Elfman?"

Silence was her only answer.

She bit her lip and scanned her surroundings for the sleigh, only to find the tail end of it sticking out of the snow hill she'd been steering them toward. At least her aim had been true, but that didn't make her feel too much better. She still couldn't find her partner. And he was wearing an enormous red suit, so it shouldn't have been all that difficult to spot his towering, bulky body.

"Elfman, are you alright?"

There was still no sign of him, even as she walked around the sleigh, and then the hill itself. The only indentations in the snow were from her own boots.

"Oh my god, I killed Elfman," she whimpered. "Mira's gonna murder me!"

Her eyes widened a moment later when the sleigh was thrown through the air. It crashed to the ground and rolled onto its side, and Lucy turned just in time to see a large white beast rearing up and roaring as it lunged for her. She shrieked in terror and tried to scramble away, but it was too fast. Its arms wrapped around her, crushing her against its snowy chest.

"Please don't kill me!"

The last thing she'd been expecting was for the thing to laugh with Elfman's deep voice. Or for its hands to grab her sides and for its thick fingers to wriggle in just the right spot to make her shriek in a wholly different way. A full, high-pitched laugh escaped her as she writhed and kicked to free herself.

"Killing you is the furthest thing from my mind."

"Good!" Lucy gasped as she was tackled to the ground, getting another mouthful of snow in the process. But it didn't matter, because she felt his beard on her forehead, and as they rolled around in the snow, she was able to get her revenge on Elfman by tickling him right back. It didn't even bother her when she got an Elfman-sized handful of snow down the back of her clothes. "Oh my god, cold!"

They didn't have a care in the world as they continued playing in the snow. It had been so long since Lucy had even done something like this that, as they eventually lay panting on the white flurries covering the ground, she couldn't stop herself from smiling while looking over at her companion. And she could see Elfman's bright grin hiding behind his moustache and beard when he looked back at her.

"Ready to make your first snow angel?" she asked.

He nodded, chuckling when Lucy crawled across the short distance between them, then grabbed one of his arms. She stretched it out to its limit at his side, and he moved the other to copy it.

"Feet together," she said, watching as he did as he was told. Lucy laid herself on the ground beside him and stretched out as well. "Slide your arms up above your head, then down to your sides."

"And then spread my feet," Elfman chuckled. She smiled over at him as they moved in unison, creating snow angels only feet away from their crashed sleigh. They would definitely need to warm themselves up after this, but for the time being, she just allowed herself to enjoy being a little bit childish, playing in the snow as an elf with a muscular Santa by her side.

By the time they found an inn, Lucy was ready to rub her naked body all over the rug just to make the itching stop. Her only reprieve had been when she'd gotten snow on her back. She'd been far more concerned with not freezing to death than how itchy she was. But now? Now, she was sure that her skin had been rubbed raw by this awful material.

Just lifting her hand to secretly scratch under her breasts for the millionth time as they walked toward their room was nearly enough to bring her to her knees.

"Are you alright?" Elfman asked.

She nodded. "I need a bath."

He chuckled and unlocked the door, letting her walk inside first. Lucy thanked him quietly and dropped her bag on the first bed she saw, then made her way to the bathroom. Once inside, with the door locked behind her, Lucy started the bath and quickly stripped out of her itchy elf costume. The red splotches all over her chest and stomach and arms was definitely disconcerting. Only slightly more worrisome were the places that had been rubbed raw from her incessant scratching all day.

Oh, this wasn't good at all.

She turned back toward the bath and grimaced. While Lucy loved them, that probably wouldn't do her any favors. The hot water would just make her itching worse. And the inn's soap would dry her skin out. It wasn't normally in issue for her, since she could use lotion to get her skin back to its appropriate silky smooth feel, but…

"Uh, Elfman?"

"Yeah?" he called from the other side of the door. Lucy wrapped a towel around herself and returned to the door. She leaned against the jamb and took a deep breath before opening it. She found him only a few feet away, carefully removing the large red jacket of his costume to reveal a black t-shirt that appeared to be vacuum-sealed to his broad chest and bulging biceps. Elfman looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes widening at the sight of her arms and chest and part of her legs. "What happened?"

"My costume," she said. Lucy reached up and scratched at her chest, then groaned and rubbed the towel over her stomach. At least she was still wearing her bra and panties, so if the towel fell she wouldn't be flashing him. But still. She was just so unbelievably itchy!

"Are you allergic to the material?"

Lucy shrugged as he came closer, taking only two large strides to stand just in front of her. "Maybe? I dunno."

He shook his head and carefully picked up her wrist. "Is it everywhere?"

She nodded and used her other hand to scratch her back between her shoulder blades. She rubbed her thighs together when the uncomfortable sensation slithered down to her knees.

"You can't keep scratching," he said. "This looks pretty bad."

"But I'm itchy!"

He gave her a patient smile and grabbed both of her hands, easily dwarfing them with his own. "Give me a few minutes. I'll go find a store and get you some lotion for it, okay?"

Lucy let out a quiet sigh, but nodded all the same. She could at least try not to tear her skin off. Though, it was going to be a real test for her, she realized. Suddenly, she pulled back from him and turned toward the bathroom again. "Bath or no bath?"

"A bath would probably be good," he said, though he didn't sound too sure. "Get washed up, okay? I'll be back before you're done."

She let out a heavy breath and sulked back into the bathroom. She stayed on autopilot while preparing her bath and sitting down in the unfamiliar tub. It was a bit smaller than her own back at her apartment, and not nearly as comfortable. Still, she used the bar of soap the inn provided and carefully scrubbed herself. It hurt like hell when she did it too hard, but at the same time… It got rid of the itching when she used a washcloth.

It probably wasn't the smartest idea, but she did it anyway. Lucy lathered up the cloth and rubbed it over her stomach, her legs, across her breasts and up to her throat. And then her face. God, when had her face gotten so itchy? And up into the roots of her hair, too?

Well, she did need to wash her hair. She put the cloth down and grabbed the shampoo. By the time she was rinsing, Elfman had come back to the room and knocked on the bathroom door. "Just a minute," she called out. "I'm getting out now."

"Do you wanna put this on yourself?"

Lucy stood and looked down at herself, then winced. She'd made it worse with the washcloth. That really hadn't been a good idea on her part. "Uh… I apparently can't be trusted not to scratch myself," she called back.

She could swear she heard him sigh on the other side of the door. "Just act like it's chicken pox," he said.

Lucy blushed while putting on a new bra and a pair of panties that she was sure Virgo had brought out for her at some point. How the spirit had done it without her noticing, she couldn't be sure. At least it was what she normally wore, and not something ridiculous. Like crotchless panties.

On second thought… Lucy checked to make sure by reaching between her legs and trying to pull the lacy fabric apart. No, they were normal. Thank goodness.

She wrapped the towel around herself and walked out of the bathroom again, finding her companion sitting on his own bed with a paper bag just next to him.

"I've never had them," she finally said.

"Huh?"

"Chicken pox," she sighed. "I never got the chicken pox." Lucy made her way to the bed and sat down next to the bag. She'd heard all about how horrible they were, and how desperate people were to not scratch themselves, but she just didn't know how it felt.

He grabbed her hand just before she could scratch her leg, and Lucy looked up into his deep blue eyes. "No scratching," he said gently. He carefully set her hand down, then pulled a hair tie from the bag and gathered her wet hair into a high ponytail.

Lucy was left in shock at how tender he was while tying her hair up. He didn't pull too much, and even though one of his hands easily could have crushed her head, it didn't hurt one bit while he made sure every strand was pulled away from her shoulders. "You've had practice doing this, haven't you…"

Elfman chuckled while taking a bottle of pink lotion from the bag. "Yep. I can't tell you how many times Mira's forgotten to tie her hair back while cooking. The last thing you want in your hair is raw beef."

Lucy's nose scrunched in disgust. She could feel that one on a spiritual level. When she looked at him again, she realized that he'd actually put little hair ties in his long beard. That couldn't possibly be comfortable for him. And it definitely didn't look all that great. But she wasn't going to say anything about it. No matter how weird Elfman looked with facial hair, it was for the job.

He poured a generous amount of lotion onto his large palm, then brought it to her shoulder. The coolness soothed her in an instant, and her head dropped back as he slowly moved his hand across her chest, just beneath her collar bones. It didn't matter to her that his fingers barely dipped down between her breasts as he rubbed it in. With her eyes closed, she didn't see the bright red flush to his cheeks when he quickly redirected his touch to her red, splotchy arms.

"Ooh, get my stomach too," she hummed.

"Uh…"

She moved to lie down on the bed and opened her eyes to look up at him. Elfman stared down at her, wide-eyed and slightly slack-jawed. After a moment, she realized just why he was looking at her like that. How, exactly, was he going to accomplish that while she was only wearing a towel and her lingerie?

"Uh," she laughed nervously, "M-Maybe my legs? I can do my stomach."

Elfman nodded and set his attention on her legs. They weren't nearly as bad as her chest and stomach and back, but she could deal with the lingering discomfort for the time being. Except he stopped at the edge of the towel, instead of moving higher toward where the worst of the itching was at, high on her thigh.

"Here, just… a little more," she said, reaching down to pull the towel higher. Just high enough that he could reach the rest of her legs while still keeping her underwear hidden. She sighed in contentment when she felt his lotion-covered fingers massaging her upper thigh, then higher still toward her hip. He paused again and moved back down, keeping his touch on the outside of her leg. Lucy frowned up at him. "Elfman."

She was far more focused on the bright red tint to his cheeks than his eyes when he looked at her face again. "You can do the rest, right?"

Her head tilted curiously. "Are you okay?"

He nodded just a little too quickly and got back to work on her other leg. He steered clear of her inner thighs, which was a bit of a disappointment. She was itchy there, too, and really… if he was going to put lotion on her, then Lucy didn't want him to skip over anything.

Except when his thumbs curved around her legs at the knee and slid upward, she felt a strange pulse in the center of her stomach that radiated this tense sort of warmth through her body. His hands paused with his thumbs only an inch away from her lace-covered core, and suddenly Lucy's face was just as bright a red as his. Was that why he'd gotten so weird? Because he was rubbing his hands all over her?

Sure, they were friends, but they weren't this close. They weren't the type of friends who did things like this. It was just a little too intimate.

"Where else?" he breathed. Lucy had a feeling that, if she tried to speak, nothing would come out. She was far too embarrassed to say a word right then. And only minutes before, she'd been so consumed with how it felt to finally not be ready to rip her skin off in macabre little strips that she'd all but begged him to put lotion all over her. "Your stomach is still bothering you, right?"

She nodded, waiting with bated breath as he added more lotion to his hand, then pulled the towel open. His eyes never left her face, even when she squeaked and bit her lips. She hissed a moment later when she felt the lotion stinging as it touched an area she'd actually scratched open.

Elfman frowned and looked down at the scrapes on her stomach. His fingers were so sure and strong as they gently brushed across every inch of her flesh, down her sides to her hips, across the top of her panties, and even just under her bra. He didn't push her bra out of the way, and she didn't feel him touching even the underside of her breasts, so that was a plus.

Except she was embarrassed all over again when he quietly told her to roll over. She kept the towel over her butt - the last thing she needed was for him to see lace disappearing between her cheeks - but she was nowhere near prepared enough to feel him struggling to loosen the clasp on her bra.

Still, Lucy took pity on him and reached back with one hand to pop the clasp. More than likely, his fingers were just too large to do that sort of task. She hummed in contentment when she felt one of hands covering her entire back, basking in the coolness of the lotion.

"Thank you, Elfman," she said, smiling into the pillow. She groaned when he started actually massaging her back and shoulders. With her eyes closed, she didn't see how he bit at his lips while watching his hands gently knead her muscles, and she hadn't a clue that he was wondering why the sight of her small waist in his grasp was making him just a little breathless.