It was getting harder and harder to explain to the girls how all the bath bombs seemed to vanish. Usually, it was his oldest daughter who used them. The way they made his skin tingle, the pleasurable scents that they emitted, the way he would childishly play with the bubbles and pretend he had facial hair. Hey, it wasn't his fault he couldn't naturally grow any. It was something he had to accept, even if it damaged his pride. The fact that he would never have a mustache and that Amy would someday find out about his bath-bomb addiction were truths he was on the verge of consenting to. Amy would probably laugh at how feminine he was bathing with them. Oh, well. After twenty-plus years of marriage, he was used to her teasing… mostly.

Gracie, on the other hand, would undoubtedly wring his neck for hogging them all. Then he'd threaten to cut her off her college tuition flow to make her back off. Despite having a few scholarships and getting a lower-than-average tuition bill for being the offspring of an alumna (and living with said alumna), college wasn't cheap. Go figure when she just "had to have" Starbucks every damn morning and afternoon and evening. She went to one of the Big Ten's Public Ivy universities in downtown Minneapolis. Her father didn't like the school. He could never get behind a school whose mascot was a silly Gopher with an annoying, if not creepy, grin. School nicknames aside, she wasn't home as often to relax in the wonders of cherry blossom-, smooth lavender-, and passion fruit-scented bath-bombs.

"More for me," he chuckled to himself as he continued to soak in the pleasurably warm water.

This was his "me time". Amy dragged the twins with her for clothes shopping. It was a legal and ingenious way to punish them. All it took was one too many pranks on their older sister, and now they were suffering a fate worse than death. He didn't pity them. When Amy clothes shopped, she would first take away their phones and then purposely stall for hours. The perfect, patient punishment for proactive, pesky progenies. Try saying that five times.

For what seemed likes hours, the scalding hot water and cherry blossom bubbles melded blissfully with his sore, aching body. Despite being 50 years old, he was still as active and heroic as ever. That didn't mean that he took hits the same way. Bruises seemed to linger longer than before. Eggman still hadn't managed to kill himself from one of his takeover plans… yet. The war raged on, but that didn't mean he couldn't find ways to wind down in the meantime that didn't come from a bottle of Jack Daniel's, even if he wasn't an alcoholic.

Sadly, the bubbles slowly popped, the result of too many fake facial hair attempts, leaving a fully-grown hero sulking in lukewarm water. Cracking his bones and stretching his legs, he propped himself up and drained the excess fluids, drying himself off and taking in one last sweet smell of the blossoms. He'd be getting a healthy dose of them when he and his brood would head to Washington D.C. for the Cherry Blossom Festival and a meeting with the President for Spring Break.

But that was a few months away. The mid-December chill made his bath all the more enjoyable. Not one for clothes, he still felt a chill due to the sudden temperature change from the warmer restroom. Slipping on a pair of sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt, he grabbed himself a pint of eggnog with a small splash of spiced rum. He then lounged in his favorite recliner as he took in the nostalgic scents of the ornamented pine to his left. With the press of a button, he turned on the sound system, booting up a Michael Bublé Christmas album.

This was wonderful. A quiet house with the slow sound of snowfall happening right outside his door. The ground was relatively green so far, but that was doomed to change as the first major snowfall was set for that night. Seven inches of the stuff, and thick snow at that. This was great news for the Minneapolis youngsters that tomorrow morning—on a Friday of all days—they'd get a few snowball fights in and start an extended weekend. I mean, there was no way that they wouldn't get a snow-day.

Despite his mellowed mood—thanks in part to the eggnog—he had to admit that there was only one way he could be happier. With the twins in high school now, they were bouncing in and out of the house to see friends or because of after-school practices. Even if he was proud of all his offspring for being damn good athletes in their own right, he could never keep track of where everybody was or when they would come home. One day they'd be gone until dinner time, the next they'd be home right after school.

And that's why he hasn't had many moments exclusively with Amy in a few months. What he wanted—more accurately, craved—was just him and her and the whole house to themselves. He wished she would come in and snuggle in close as they watched a cheesy movie. Chaos knew he was down for anything that'd warm him up this time of the year, and it didn't necessarily have to be a romp in the sheets either.

His relaxation was momentarily paused as he heard the garage door go up. The slight sound of a revving engine and it shutting off meant that Amy had returned. He debated in his head the over/under of how many bags of clothes she was gonna bring in. He started the betting at six and took the over.

Soon enough, she waltzed through the kitchen and into the living room all bundled up. Her deep red coat and bright red scarf were set on a dining room chair as he counted the number of bags. So far, about three of them. Then she headed back out to the car and came back with more, making his bank account cry a little bit. Let's see… one, two, three, four, five, and six. Dammit, it was a push.

With a heavy sigh, she turned around to see her husband taking a load off in the comfiest recliner known to man. He waved at her once as she smiled his way. "Have any success?" he asked already knowing the answer.

"And then some."

He looked at the clock above the TV. "Well, you were gone for about three hours."

"Four," She corrected. He noted how proud she sounded. She took pride in legally torturing her children with clothes shopping. The amount of boredom that phoneless kids can suffer at a Boston Store or Kohl's knows no bounds.

He kipped up from the recliner and started looking around the bags. What he found was a potential present for him and a light slap from his wife when she saw him eye it up. "Presents get opened on the 25th, Mr. Hedgehog," she scolded.

He shot her an unimpressed look. "But in my family, it's tradition to open our presents early!" he shot back.

"First off, I don't know why your parents, Manic, and Sonia do that. Two, that's on Christmas Eve. And three, it's only the 15th!" Three strikes, and you're out, Sonic.

"Okay, okay," he said as he backed off. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

She rolled her eyes and lightly tapped his cheek. "Yes, I can."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're deviant and a scoundrel?" he joked.

"There's this blue bum who lives with me that tells me that. He's a real twerp like his kids."

Actually, that reminded him of something. "Speaking of which, where is everybody? You left with two kids."

"Gracie is staying late on campus with her boyfriend." Sonic frowned in disapproval. "Calm down. Manny called me and said that he and Gracie are studying in the library for finals next week. She'll be home later tonight." He still wasn't convinced. "Oh, lighten up, super-dad. Have some faith in your daughter."

Sonic sighed. "Okay, fine. But as long as she's not studying his anatomy. What about the twins?"

"I decided to throw Swift and Kelly a bone and drop them off at Zane's house."

"On a school night?"

"I got a call from the school district saying they've already cancelled classes for tomorrow."

"Well, what are they going to sleep in? Sleeping in jeans isn't exactly comfortable… unless they're flannel-lined. Then it's okay." Despite his casual tone, he was doing backflips on the inside. The whole place to themselves! 'Twas an early present! But he hadn't planned for that. Now he'd be getting a night alone with the missus. The only problem was that the revelation caught him off-guard.

"They needed some new pajamas anyway, so I bought some for them. They'll come home sometime tomorrow."

"If you're sure Silver and Blaze can handle them—."

"No, just Blaze. Shadow had to borrow Silver for Christmas shopping. Apparently, Shadow needs Silver's psychokinesis as a non-lethal means of dealing with the Mall of America insanity. That, and he needed someone to talk to that wasn't you."

"Ouch," Sonic feigned sadness. "I'm hurt."

"Shadow couldn't give a damn about your feelings. So… what are your plans for tonight?"

"I was just planning on staying in. Relaxing, y'know?" He paused and habitually rubbed the back of his head. She knew that look meant he was a little embarrassed about something.

Smiling, she lightly slapped his cheek twice. "Blue boy, there's no need to play 'shy guy' with me."

"Tell that to Mario." She scoffed at his immaturity. How this man-child was able to father and raise her three kids was a question she'd never have answered. "Oh, come on. That was funny."

"My face is red from the cold, not your 'jokes.' But… I could use some warming up, and I know we haven't had much quality time for a while~," she said as she quickly pecked his lips, collecting the sweet taste of his drink.

"I might help with that," he shot back. Hehehe. He liked where this was going. Maybe this was going to lead to more. It's amazing when you want something, and then—BOOM!—you get it!

"Good, 'cause only a rum and 'nog will do it," she said as she walked toward their room.

His pride hurt, he loudly said, "What about me?"

She opened the door and replied with a wink, "What about you?"

SLAM!

He had to groan and shake his head. Twenty-something years of marriage, and she still ripped him on a regular basis. He couldn't deny that he liked that hard-to-get side of her, but his ego sure as hell didn't.

"Even in my stories I still get roasted."

Putting that aside, he waltzed to the fridge and did her bidding like the poor slave that she had turned him into. How low the mighty have fallen. But to get back at her, he put a double-shot of Captain in her drink and peppered the top with nutmeg. Yeesh, Sonic. Isn't the extra liquor over-powering enough? With one more stir, he set her feistier cocktail next to his and took another sip of his. Sadly, that was somehow already empty, so he quickly fashioned himself another merry mélange.

Lounging back in the recliner, he kept a watchful eye on the hall when he began to hear footsteps. He took the mug and stopped mid-sip the moment she came into the room. His inner desires taking over, he didn't feel his eyebrow shoot up as he intensely starred at his wife. Wow… she aged like a fine wine. Her cute face was still a bit red from the chill of the garage, but that accentuated her look. Grey yoga pants that hugged her every curve matched up with a dark red and tight sweater. He knew that article of clothing very well. He was back in his 20s, hypnotized by that hourglass figure of hers. He didn't deserve a goddess like her. Hero or not, he counted his blessings every day for her being his. Even in her late 40s, she was still beauty embodied with a body to match. AKA the Jennifer Aniston of hedgehogs.

Poor Sonic didn't even notice himself spill a bit of his drink down his neck. Getting distracted by a stunning woman will do that to a man. Shaking her head, she walked up to him and waited patiently.

"Is this seat taken?"

Finally swallowing his 'nog, he set it down and said, "Yes, ma'am." She chuckled and snuggled in close to Sonic, snaking an arm around his neck and reaching over him to grab her drink with the other. "I could've sworn I said that this seat was taken," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You see, marriage is about sharing things."

"Smart ass," he said with a chuckle, sliding his left hand down her back and onto the very thing he just said.

"Smooth," she said with a nod. With that, she took a sip, and she immediately caught the potent taste and his shit-eating grin. He chortled again as she gave him a seductive evil eye.

"Is it not good?" he asked. "Is it not pleasurable to the eye?"

"Too much spice." She quickly set it back down and grabbed her beau's drink, slamming that and earning a stunned face from Sonic as she set it down. "Much better."

"Hey!"

"'Hey' to you too," she flirted as she took in a kiss for a moment or two. She let him go to see how utterly and hopelessly confused his face was, not to mention that it was as red as Santa's suit. "What's that look for?"

"You don't like your drink, so you down mine?"

"What can I say? I don't care for spiked eggnog." The arrogance in her voice grated on him a bit. Too bad it turned him on too.

Not believing he had done a bad job of spiking (spicing?) her drink, he took a sip of Amy's mug and immediately sported a surprised face when the fluid ran down his gullet. It wasn't undrinkable to him, just a little too strong. "Yeah," he began with some disgust in his voice. "Too much spice."

"And I noticed a pretty rummy aftertaste. Are you trying to get me drunk, Sonic the Hedgehog?"

"More like getting back at you," he said honestly.

"Ohhhhh," she cooed. He hated when she did that. It always led to him being putty in her hands. "Marriage isn't a game of one-upping, sweetie~."

"Again, tell that to Mario."

She laughed for a bit and snuggled in closer to Big Blue, draping her fine leg over him as she hugged him softly. Besides the nutmeg, another pleasurable scent danced across her nose. Getting in close to his neck—and kissing it to get his heart going—she took in a gentle whiff of his cobalt fur. The lovely scent of fresh-cut flowers that only came with one specific bathtub scent. "So that's where the bath-bombs have gone," she teased. There went his muzzle again, red and hot like a fireplace in winter. He looked away nervously, sealing his fate. Instead of being mocked for his lack of masculinity, she sighed and took in another whiff of cherry blossoms. "Gracie is gonna kill you."

Remember where Sonic's left hand was? Yeah… it was time for him to get even.

PINCH!

"Oh!" she squealed.

He turned the charm on and looked directly into her jade green eyes. The way they glistened was like bubbling champagne just after it was uncorked. Actually, that didn't do them justice. They were as green and bright as the decorated tree to his left.

"Gracie isn't here."

That fact reminded Amy of something else.

She swiftly moved on top of him, straddling him as she grabbed his head and got dangerously close to his ear. "And neither are the twins," she whispered.

No one but her, him, and the floorboards.

He had to chuckle.

He couldn't have it any better.

He quickly grabbed the back of her pink head and crashed his lips into hers, giving Amy a healthy taste of his emphatic desire and passion (mixed with a little holiday cheer). Amy moaned pleasurably as she laid her body onto Sonic's, letting herself take in his. God, he tasted great. His cherry-blossom scent was driving her mad. The sugary cocktail waltzed all over her tongue, adding to her attraction for him.

She slowly slid her right arm around his back and up his shirt. Hell, her left did the same on his front. Still built like an Olympian god, her hands took in every damn square inch of his perfect physique; her touch setting his skin and soul ablaze. Sonic knew he wasn't worthy to have her, and Amy felt the same way. But here he was giving her the kind of love and passion that would drive any woman insane, and she still wanted more of him.

The moment she slid her tongue into his, Sonic could've died a happy man. It was such a powerful muscle that had made his heart do backflips for the last twenty-odd years. Tonight was no exception. He put his to good use as well, making her heart melt the moment he did it. She moaned louder, her mind lighting up from their glowing passion.

But that was when they needed to take a break. They each forced themselves to stop for second or two so their lungs could get a breather. Their hearts pounded on each other. They beat in beautiful rhythm and perfect harmony. As they gasped for air, they gazed into each other's eyes. His grassy green ones were laced with lust. He needed this. She did too. But with one look, he knew that this was not enough. He needed all of her, and I do mean all.

He flipped the recliner down and immediately stood himself up. He held onto her for dear life, keeping her off the hardwood with that same loving drive that he's shown her for most of their lives. A little surprised, she yelped. But with one look from his trusting eyes, she knew what he had in mind.

With a cunning grin, she wrapped her legs around him as he carried her out of the living room and down the hall, all while giving him the meanest kiss that she could muster. Sonic got his wish after all. This night did lead to more.

The pain and suffering was finally over. At least for now, anyway.

It was only about a 15-minute drive from the university library back home. And all the while, she rode shotgun finishing off the last of her hot chocolate. She loved it when her boyfriend spoiled her like this, though they both agreed that a little celebration after the agony of finals studying was needed.

Already with two-and-a-half inches of thick snow on the ground, the snowstorm had only just kicked off. The roads were still safe enough to drive on for now, but in an hour, they wouldn't be. The plows were out in full force, and Manny was getting annoyed that some loser had splashed a load of salty slush onto his windshield. As if he wasn't having a hard enough time driving his girlfriend home in this white crap.

But the agony of his urban four-wheeling subsided the moment he pulled into Gracie's driveway. The tree was lit up in the living room, but the rest of the house was dark. However, the front light was still on, meaning the door was probably left unlocked for Gracie.

With one last swig of her cocoa, she sighed contently and looked at Manny. "Thanks for suffering with me, babe," she said.

"I had to study too," he replied. "Might as well have made a date of it."

She lightly laughed before reaching over for a brief kiss from her beau. "And thanks for the drink," she said as grabbed most of her belongings. "See you tomorrow."

He nodded and waved as she slammed the door shut. He began to pull out of the driveway and scamper on home as she kicked the snow off her fashionable boots, opened the door, and flipped on the lights. The tree still shined red, yellow, green, blue, and pink, making her smile like a child. Only ten days away from one of her favorite holidays.

She made haste and quickly went into her room to grab a set of pajamas. Entering the bathroom, she immediately caught the smell of… flowers?

"Did mom use one of my bath-bombs again?" Groaning, she dropped her clothes on the floor and started up the shower. Before she ditched her current attire, a thought crossed her mind. It was only about 10:30, so why wasn't her mom or dad still up? Sonic especially. He was almost always up until midnight. And the twins? Gracie heard about the school cancelling. Surely they'd still be up by now too.

Letting the shower warm itself up, she left the bathroom and walked into the kitchen. Flipping that light on, she was drawn to a sticky note resting on the cupboard. There was also a bottle of Captain Morgan on the counter, but she didn't pay any mind to that. Gracie walked up to it and took it off. It certainly looked like her mom's penmanship.

"'FYI, Gracie, the twins are sleeping over at Blaze's. Love, mom.' Well, that explains Kelly and Swift." But that still didn't explain her parents. They weren't in the living or dining rooms, so where were they?

Walking out of the kitchen, she strolled down the hall and past the bathroom. Her parents' door was ajar by few inches, but that wasn't the weirdest thing. The threshold was blocked by someone's clothing. Specifically, it was her mom's yoga pants. The poor thing had been jammed between the door and opening. But why was it here? Why wouldn't it be in her hamper?

Gracie, you should've dropped the subject.

She opened the door a little wider and found more of her mom's clothing on the floor but also her dad's thanks to the light from the hall. Following the trail to the bed, she saw Sonic and Amy and snuggled close together.

Sonic was on the farther side of the bed while Amy was on the near side, facing Sonic with his arms around her frame. The awful problem was that their blanket wasn't covering up all of her, just from the waist on down. The top half of her bare back was showi—.

"Wait," Gracie said in a quieted, but worried tone. "Why is mom not wearing—?"

Then it hit her.

Clothes on the floor, her dad's arms around Amy, and her not wearing anything up top (in the dead of winter no less). No nightgown, no bra; nada. There was NOTHING.

And Gracie instantly gagged and grew a mad set of wild eyes. She slowly shut the door as much as she could and backed away from it in shear shock. A lump stuck in her throat, she could not comprehend the awful sight before her. Her parents had… the clothes on… and Gracie knew what her parents had done. Now the horrible images of what they had probably done made her beeline to the kitchen and open the trash can.

"I did not just see that! I did not just see that! I did not just see that! I did not just see that! I did not just see that!" she repeated.

Gracie… you did. Have fun sleeping tonight.

She wanted to puke and bleach her brain, but nothing was coming out. Even with the most repulsing of thoughts residing in her brain like a tumor, she couldn't bring herself to purge her stomach.

With that, she left the trash can, still barely keeping a grip on reality. Then she saw the bottle of rum that Sonic had left out and immediately opened up the cupboard to grab a small glass. She feverishly poured herself a triple, no a quadruple shot and slammed it in one hit. She gasped and nearly puked from the liquor alone. If she couldn't throw up from that horrid sight, she could at least try and bleach her brain. She poured herself another big shot, but something was telling her that she would need the rest of the bottle for that. She didn't care how much liquor it would take. She needed that image out of her head like it was yesterday!

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Still a bit despondent, she cursed to herself. "For fuc—! What now?!"

She slammed her second drink and went to the front door. Through the peephole, there stood Manny. She unlocked the door and opened it for him, shooting him a frightened look. He had something in his hand.

"Gracie," he began, "you left your purse in my—." Then he saw how destroyed she looked. "Uh… everything okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Well, hello there! Happy December to all! I hope your Christmas shopping is doing alright, and I hope that your bank accounts are still in one piece.

Before I go any further, I realized something with The Sonic Project. Luna the Wolf should've been named Lupe the Wolf from the Archie Comics. I could have sworn that it was the other way around, but that wasn't the case. Because of this, I fixed the errors throughout the story. I cannot believe I missed that detail, and I was kicking myself that I found that out right as I was going to bed. So before I hit the sack, I switched it on both the FF-dot-net and deviantArt versions of the story. Sorry about that!

Changing gears, this one-shot was a story I had started writing way back in August, but I put it on the back-burner because of other things going on in my life. It was supposed to be set in February, but since the Holidays are on their way, I edited it in time for the Holidays. And just so we are clear, this is about as close I will get to writing a lemon fan-fic. I will insinuate intercourse, but I will never write about the act, no matter the level of detail. And while we're on that, poor Gracie! That's some traumatizing shit! And no, this was not inspired by events in my life (THANK CHRIST). Start chugging that Captain Morgan, Gracie!

And that reminds me of something else. I noticed that in a few of my other SonAmy one-shots (which are set in the same AU for those of you playing along) Sonic and/or Amy seem to have an alcoholic cocktail with them. I have sort of written them as alcoholics without realizing it. That being said, can you tell that I'm from Wisconsin? We drink more liqour at happy hour than your family will drink in a year.

Before I leave you, I thought I'd let you know that, if you feel like it, you can follow me on Twitter Calvin_Bruce61. I mentioned it in my latest profile update, so I'll mention it here if you didn't read it. And before you say anything, yes, that is me. And yes, I know putting out my social media account may not be the smartest play. Oh, well. I figure that it gives you the chance to put a face to who writes the fan-fics. Should you follow me, expect a lot of bad jokes and sports tweets from yours truly. I'm a Wisconsin sports madman after all. And I don't post regularly about Sonic or SonAmy, so don't think you'll be getting a lot of those kinds of tweets. My fan-fic writing, at the end of the day, is a hobby of mine (that and collecting Green Bay Packers memorabilia). SonAmy is not a religion or way of life (*COUGH COUGH TrueLoveHeart94 COUGH COUGH*). The only thing I ask you, should feel inclined to tweet at me, is that you be respectful of what I post (stories AND tweets) and that you DO NOT ask me to RP. Seriously, I hate that shit to no end. Sorry if you're into it, but I am not.

Anyway, that's all I've got for y'all this time around. SP2 is still being written, but I won't give you a timetable for when uploading will begin. I won't even take a guess.

Sonic, Amy, Silver, Shadow, and Blaze are the property of SEGA. All of the other characters are mine. Everything in the story is being used strictly for entertainment purposes. And as always, I will talk to y'all later.