I have a confession to make. I'm a newbie. A n00b, if you will. When you look at the stats on my profile, you will see that I've only been a member of this site since late March of this year, maybe early April. I've actually had one account before this, but that was short lived (from late last February to last March). And I've only been reading fanfiction since late last January. I started watching anime late last December. Around Christmas time, actually - I started with Naruto, episode one. My friend emailed me a bunch of links and, although it took me a while to get through, I eventually got addicted.
With that said, I have absolutely no idea how people go about writing Christmas stories. I've only read a few, myself. But I decided to attempt one because I completely adore all of my readers. So this is dedicated not only to the good friends I've made on this website, but also to every single one of you. Because simply hearing from you (even if it's a little review like "Cute" or "Nice") makes my day, every single time.
To each and every one of you who actually bothers to read this ridiculously long and sappy author's note:
Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. Good tidings. And a heartfelt thank you.
I have to say that the Edvy community on FFN has some of the coolest people I've ever met. And now I'm trying to give something back. I hope you enjoy my very first Christmas fic.
indigo
GOOD TIDINGS
"We wish you a merry Christmas,
We wish you a merry Christmas,
We wish you a merry Christmas,
And a happy-"
CRASH!
The radio goes flying to the floor and shatters.
Fuck Christmas. Fuck the holidays. My life sucks, and stupid, tinny carols on the radio aren't going to make it any better. My girlfriend just broke up with me, my best friend asked her out, and my dad is trying to get me to stay with my bitch of a mother over break. Speaking of which...
"Envy!" Greed calls from the kitchen. "What did you do, break the radio?"
I look somewhat guiltily at the scattered pieces of metal, then shrug carelessly. It's his fault, anyway. On my way out of the room, I kick at the scraps. They thud satisfyingly against the wall.
---
"So, anyway," Greed says as I walk into the room. "I've made all the arrangements. You're going to take a bus to Resembul, where Dante's going to pick you up. You're leaving tomorrow, so make sure to get packed up all the way tonight. And don't even think about going somewhere else - I'm driving you to the bus station and ordering your tickets. Live with it."
I flop into my seat and give him a heated glare. It's all your fault, bastard.
"What's got you all worked up?" he asks, looking nonplussed.
I continue glowering. It's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault.
He sighs. "Look. I'm sorry that I'm making you do this, but don't you think you should go to see your mother at least once in a while? She is the woman who brought you into this world, and she's asking that you come and visit."
It's your fault. "You could have refused." I reply, keeping my voice low just to freak him out.
"Then she would have had a fit, and I could have lost custody of you." he replies evenly. "You would end up having to live with her year round, and God knows how awful that would be."
I lean back and raise an eyebrow, getting angrier by the minute. "And where will you be while I'm being nagged to death?" I ask accusingly.
Greed smirks. "Well, I don't own the best club this side of Xenotime for nothing." he replies lecherously.
"Fuck you." It's your fault, you stupid asshole.
He shrugs. "Well, who knows. Maybe Martel's going to Resembul, too. Maybe she's visiting dear old granny, or something."
Before I can stop myself, I slam my fist down on the table as hard as I can and stand up. The left over dishes from breakfast rattle in their places and Greed sits up slightly, looking startled. "Shut the fuck up, dickhead!" I yell, breathing heavily.
My father smirks again. "There's the old Envy. I was beginning to worry you were going to be emo and suicidal forever." He chuckles to himself. "Well, look on the bright side. You'll be back before the results from your final exams come in."
I sit back down heavily and resume glaring. It's all your fault, I think again. Of course, his skull is too thick for telepathy.
---
Oh, damn. Why is it so cold outside? I'm currently huddled on the frozen bench of the bus stop, tightening my jacket around my shoulders, wishing, surprisingly, for my mother. She's the one with the car, and I desperately need a ride.
For a few minutes, I debate just getting up and walking off - exploring Resembul a bit, you know, maybe impersonating a teenage runaway for a few days. But, in addition to being idiotic and unfeasible, that plan would lead to Dante's intense disapproval and maybe a few days in jail - she can pull those kinds of stunts, you know, because she's married to the chief of police.
I sigh and my breath puffs out in a little cloud of white. Already, I'm hating this vacation. Hell, I hated it before it even started.
Stupid Martel. I'm still the best piece of ass on the block, and you and I both know it. So why the hell did you break up with me?
Stupid Kimbley. I bet you were cheating with Martel behind my back. Now she's free, and you two can actually make out in the open! Ooh, joy! And I thought you were my best friend.
Stupid Greed. Why the fuck did you even send me here? I'm sure I'd be a valuable asset to your club - wouldn't that be more profitable then sending me out to this hick town?
"Oh man, this bench is cold." I say, testing out my voice. It sounds kind of hoarse, meaning I'm probably starting to catch a cold from sitting out here for more than an hour. Big surprise. "The stupid bitch had better get her ass over here soon." It's nearly five-thirty in the afternoon and, being winter, the sun is already setting.
If she doesn't come within the next ten minutes I'll either have to set out on my own or end up a living icicle by the bus station. Either option isn't looking so good - I can get most likely kidnapped and gang-raped, or become some kind of landmark. ("When you see the frozen palm tree, folks, you'll know you've reached Resembul!")
"Where are yoooooooou..." I groan, and flop down sideways on the bench. My hand trails on the ground, covered by a inch-thick layer of snow. Back in Central, these dinky little flakes would probably be a full-fledged blizzard. We would get at least nine inches, which always means sledding.
...Except now, since Martel and Kimbley are my fucking mortal enemies, I guess I would just be staying home and cussing at Greed. It's still better than being here.
Suddenly, a navy blue Mercedes skids to a stop in front of me. A tall man gets out of the driver's side, and at first I don't recognize him. He's got close-cut brown hair, a toothbrush style mustache, and an eye-patch. (Who the hell wears an eye patch these days?! What, is he trying to be some kind of pirate cosplayer?)
"Get in the car, Envy. I'm here to pick you up." he tells me in a commanding tone of voice.
I simply stare. "Who the hell-" I begin, then stop myself. I recognize him now - Police Chief Bradley P. Sundigen, my mother's hoity-toity husband. Grumbling (Dante could've at least gotten me herself; she didn't have to delegate) I get to my feet and shoulder my backpack, the very picture of a surly teenager.
"I need you to hurry, boy," he says, and I'm reminded once again of why I don't like him. "My wife and child are expecting us at a dinner party as soon as possible."
Snorting, I slide into the front seat. "My wife. My child." I mutter under my breath. Possessive, much?
Without a word, he starts the car. We drive for about three minutes until he breaks the awkward silence. "When we get home, I need you to put your things in the guest room and get changed into something presentable right away." he says.
"What the hell's this party for, anyway?" I ask, slouching in my seat and not giving a damn about proper behavior. "And why do I have to go? I'm just the other man's child." I don't know this guy very well, but I do know that the 'P' in his name stands for 'Pride', and, being the police chief, he probably doesn't take insults very well.
Sure enough, he turns his head just slightly to glare at me. I think that's the first time we've made eye contact... ever. "I expect you to be polite while you're in my house, boy." he tells me firmly. I roll my eyes, and say nothing. "This is a special Christmas dinner our neighbors, the Elrics, invited us to. Hohenheim Elric is a very prominent scientist and his wife, Trisha, is a loving and dedicated woman."
"Uh-huh." I say, letting my skepticism show through. I've heard that about practically every woman I've met. Hell, even Greed said it about Dante - before they got divorced.
"They have two children, and Trisha wanted us to invite you, too." I can feel his exasperation coming off him in waves. What irony. He spends his day arresting teenage delinquents like me, then he has to take one into his own home. "It's supposed to be a formal occasion but..." He gives me a dismissive sidelong glance. "...I don't expect you to have any good clothes."
"Fuck you." I mutter, and turn until I'm staring out the window. If the rest of the vacation is anything like this torture, I think I'll just kill myself and get it over with.
---
All right. Black pants, long-sleeved black shirt with no writing on it, no earrings, no jewelry (except the necklace I wear all the time), no makeup, no ponytail, and I think I'm good to go. I give myself a final once-over in the mirror and practice my death glare. At the very least, I won't have any stupid kids bugging me because I'll have scared them all away.
When I clink my way down the stairs, Mr. Police Chief eyes me critically. "What are those chains for?" he asks, raising his one visible eyebrow when he sees my pants.
Bondage, I'm tempted to answer. So I can restrain people when I fuck them. "They're the nicest pair I have. Besides, there's only one chain." I stare him down with a carefully neutral expression on his face and eventually he grunts and shrugs with one shoulder.
"Well, hurry up, boy. We're already nearly an hour late." He gestures to the car.
I salute. "Aye, aye, Cap'n!" I reply, poking fun at his eye patch and his obvious resemblance to Captain Hook. My grin is probably looking a little manic.
Daddy-dearest gives me a slightly perplexed look - "I don't know what the hell you just meant by that so I will ignore it and treat you like you are the scum of the earth because you are obviously less intelligent than I am" - and turns, expecting me to follow. Damn, I thought that would get him at least a little mad. I don't think he even got it.
Huffing, I stomp down the stairs and follow.
--- --- ---
alchemy101: Geez. Next time you guys are going to have a sleepover, let me know at least a day before.
fortunecookieXXX: Sorry!!
fortunecookieXXX: Thought we told you.
alchemy101: Suuuuure...
blueeyedhunk: u wouldn't be coming over n e way - u guys are having a christmas dinner? right??
alchemy101: Yeah.
alchemy101: Mom decided to invite our 'new neighbors'.
alchemy101: ...They've been here for 3 years.
fortunecookieXXX: Interesting.
alchemy101: Yeah; I guess she never knew they were here? sweatdrop Or, you know, since Pinako and Winry are on vacation...
alchemy101: But apparently Mrs. Dante's son is here for Christmas. From her other marriage.
blueeyedhunk: Oo"
fortunecookieXXX: No kidding.
alchemy101: btw, aren't you guys at Ling's house? How can you both be on messenger?
fortunecookieXXX: Magic. winkwink
blueeyedhunk: 2 comps.
alchemy101: head/desk
alchemy101: Shit; my mom's calling me. Gotta go.
fortunecookieXXX: See ya, Ed!
blueeyedhunk: have fun at dinner. heheh
alchemy101: Shut up.
alchemy101has signed off. Any further messages to this client will be received when they log back on.
---
Ed hurried down the stairs, smoothing his hair and straightening his braided hair. Since his mom was yelling for him, Chief Sundigen and the other teenager must have arrived. He paused before entering the kitchen, taking a deep, nervous breath. It had been a long time since he had met someone new - Resembul was a comparatively small, 'everybody-knows-everybody' town, and he had lived there his whole life. Inhaling once more and plastering a grin on his face, he took a step forward.
He was instantly enveloped in his mother's loving embrace. "Hi, sweetie!" Trisha cooed, her breath smelling like too much mint gum. She gripped her son's shoulder tightly - a sure sign of nervousness - as she steered him to face the newcomers. "Edward, this is Envy..."
"Alighieri." the newcomer supplied sullenly. Ed was instantly reminded of a feral cat, in both the way he hid his strained muscles under a relaxed posture and his dangerous-looking purple eyes. Were they contacts, or were they naturally violet? He dismissed the question as trivial and instead focused on the boy's green-streaked hair, plain black shirt, and fitted black cargo pants.
He only realized he was staring when Envy smirked and winked at him. Edward looked down, embarrassed, and suddenly felt overdressed in his khaki pants, white button-down shirt, and red tie.
"Well, you guys," his mother said, still smiling hugely. "Go run along and get to know each other, okay? Dinner should be ready in-"
She was cut off by the entrance of a black-haired ball of energy. "ENVYYY!" Wrath cried, flinging himself onto Envy and hugging him tightly around the waist. The long-haired teenager's sleek image was immediately disrupted as his eyes widened, he flung his arms out and fell against the wall for balance, and he muttered a series of quiet curses.
A few seconds later, Wrath was followed into the room by a harried looking Alphonse, in the process of wrapping a video controller with its cord for safer storage. "Hey, big brother." he said quietly, watching the antics of the two dark-haired boys.
Edward nodded and tried not to laugh as the taller of the two attempted to pry his half-brother's arms away from where they had been wrapped around his torso, saying, "I know it's been a while Wrath, but could you please stop hugging me now?"
"His name is 'Envy'." he muttered to Al.
The brunet narrowed his eyes and sized up the older teen. "He looks kinda freaky," he commented. "You're sure he's a guy?"
"Yeah, pretty sure." Ed replied, wincing and sizing up Envy's feminine features. Androgynous face, long hair, slim figure, undeniably attractive to either sex... "He has no breasts."
Alphonse put a hand to his mouth and giggled, probably shocked (in a preteen kind of way) by his bluntness. "You're right," he replied conspiratorially, and laughed again. "Anyway, I'd better go. I think they're done." He gestured to Wrath, who was approaching the duo. "Bye, big brother!" He called, waving as the black-haired twelve year old grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the game room.
During the cacophony created by Wrath, the adults had adjourned to their various stations (Trisha to the kitchen and Bradley to the dining room, presumably to join Hohenheim and Dante.) "Um." Ed looked up to the taller boy, who was straightening out his shirt, and gulped nervously. "Nice to meet you." He held out a hand politely for Envy to shake.
The green-haired teenager eyed it strangely, then slapped it like a high five. "Yeah, whatever, nice meeting ya." he grunted. "Live here?"
"Uh... yeah." He was more than a little taken aback by Envy's rudeness.
"Sucks." The boy paused a moment, then grinned. "You got stuck with me, huh? I'm sorry." His smile seemed slightly melancholy, and his apology was almost genuine. "I'm kind of like, the problem child." He shrugged. "Is there somewhere else we can go, so I don't have to stand at the door all night?"
---
The living room was softly lit, and a fire was crackling merrily in the grate. The Christmas tree was already set up in one of the corners, decorated lovingly with twinkling lights and various sentimental ornaments. It was unoccupied except for Envy and Ed, who had led the teenager there awkwardly, not sure of what to say. Envy seemed to be prone to random and rapid mood swings, or, at least, Edward was unable to see any method to his madness. He was already beginning to resent Trisha for her presumptuousness in assigning the two of them as friends, just because they were the same age. Of course, he would never tell his mother that.
"So what's it like, living in a tiny little place like this?" Envy asked. He was curled up in the leather armchair ('Get your feet off it!' Ed wanted to yell) and glaring at the fire.
Ed fidgeted on the couch, clasping and unclasping his hands, fiddling with his tie. Being here alone with a psychotic-looking teenager was not his definition of relaxing. Or fun. "It's not that small," he replied valiantly, although Resembul, with an average population of 760 people, was more of a village than anything. "But I suppose it's kind of..." he paused, looking for the right word. "Restraining."
Envy raised an eyebrow, and turned so that he was staring at Edward. "I can imagine." he replied. "Central is, like, two hundred times bigger than this."
Even though he didn't appreciate the veiled insult to his hometown, Ed understood the sentiment. Having come from one of the biggest cities in the region, it was understandable that the boy would feel rather lost and maybe disdainful while experiencing the 'small town' lifestyle. That might be why he was so hostile with Chief Sundigen and so mercurial with Ed himself.
Not.
Having decided not to reply to Envy's comment, Edward turned to gaze at the fire and an awkward silence ensued. The long-haired teen began humming along with a carol that was playing quietly on the stereo. "Silver bells, silver bells, it's Christmas time in the city..." He sighed heavily, then slumped and looked away from his companion. "Christmas is bullshit."
Despite himself, Ed sat up straighter and stared. "What?" he asked, shocked.
Envy snorted, then smirked, the antagonistic look back in his eyes. "You heard me." he taunted. "Christmas. Is. Bullshit." When Edward offered nothing in reply except a shocked look, he began to elaborate. "I mean, look. It's become a gigantic holiday where the only thing that matters is 'Buy, buy, buy', and the only thing that's important is what's under the tree on the big day. Whatever meaning there ever was in the season has been taken out because it's 'politically incorrect', and just shoved into daytime TV, where it's too sappy to be important." He looked Ed directly in the eyes, as though his monologue was some kind of challenge.
The blonde simply inclined his head towards Envy. "I suppose." he replied noncommittally. "It seems like you've put a lot of thought into this." He had meant to calm the teenager's aggressive demeanor by offering a compliment, but instead, he had given Envy an opportunity to be insulting.
"Not really." the teenager replied dismissively. "It's completely obvious to anyone with half a brain, pipsqueak."
Well, screw politeness. Envy was a bloody jerk, anyway. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE'D GET CRUSHED UNDER A LITTLE BABY REINDEER??!!" the formerly demure Edward yelled, jumping up. His fists were clenched and he was panting slightly from his sudden outburst.
Envy patted him on the head, snickering. Somehow, in the space of his five second temper tantrum, the teenager had moved from the armchair to a seat behind the boy on the sofa. "That was cute." he said. "I have a friend who does the same thing, except you're a hell of a lot prettier than she is."
Before Edward could decide whether to be flattered, angered, or just plain freaked out (he was leaning towards the last option), a pair of wiry arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him back down to the couch. Well, kind of. It would be more accurate to say that a pair of arms pulled him down into the lap of a certain green-haired boy, who was sitting on the couch.
"Fuck it... What the hell, Envy?" He could feel himself blushing as a pair of cool hands untucked his shirt and began running up his chest. Uncomfortable, he squirmed.
"Sorry, short stuff." a voice breathed into his ear. "I meant to just put you on the couch. Guess I missed." A chuckle, then he found himself sitting next to Envy instead of on top of him. The androgynous teenager was looking as cool as ever - arms crossed, tapping a foot, staring off neutrally into space.
After a moment when all he could do was blush and blink, Edward hurriedly smoothed his shirt back on and scooted to the opposite end of the sofa. "You- You're a fucking rapist!" he hissed, his face still bright red. "What the hell were you even trying to do?! We're both fucking boys."
Envy muttered something under his breath, smirking. It sounded like "Oh, I'm gonna be fucking boys all right," but Ed chose to ignore it. "You didn't seem to have a problem with that when I was touching you," he replied, winking.
Ed spluttered. "Wha- No... I was in fucking shock! I didn't do anything! You're making too big of a deal out of this!"
"Yeah, well, you're the one calling it rape."
"It fucking was! What the hell?! I haven't even known you for an hour and you're fucking groping me!" To his mortification, instead of dying down, he was blushing even more with every word the long-haired teenager said.
Seeming to grow bored, Envy gave a one-shoulder shrug and turned away. "Whatever." After about thirty seconds of silence, he gave Edward a sidelong glance. "If I freak you out so much, why don't you move?" The blonde had been piling up pillows to separate their places.
The teenager, who had managed to calm himself slightly, glared. "Shut up." he replied, determinedly looking in the other direction, lest his face turned red again. To tell the truth, the only reason he was on the couch was because it was a matter of pride. Or stubbornness. He had decided that, no matter what kind of innuendoes the other teenager might throw at him, he would stay on the couch and show he was man enough to take it.
A new song came on and Envy began to hum along. "I'll be home for Christmas..." Stealthily, he scooted closer to Ed, who jumped when the long-haired teenager pushed over the stack of pillows and flopped down so he was nearly in his lap. He remained frozen as Envy ran his fingers along his thighs, his blush returning with full force.
Suddenly, the lights went out, and the room was filled with an ominous chuckle.
--- --- ---
I laughed. I know, I'm a freak, I should have been at least a little bit disturbed, but no. I started laughing. To be honest, I really couldn't help myself. I was just about to kiss him, then, wham, blackout. Fucking dramatic, no?
The kid's scared, I can tell. I've always had really good ears, and right now I can hear his breathing grow a bit faster. If I was a bit more deluded I would say I was also listening to his heart beating faster, but that would be a lie. For a minute, I back away, letting him have his space. He's probably thinking he's going to lose his virginity in the next five minutes. I might be good, Edo, but I'm not that good.
Eventually my eyes adjust to the near-darkness. Ed's eyes are already reflecting the dim firelight, which makes them look a strange orange-amber color - stranger, in fact, than their usual gold. I've never met anyone with pure golden eyes before...
Hell, I don't even know why I'm coming on to this guy. Sure, he's really quite appealing, I suppose, with nice firm muscles under that shirt. And I suppose I've always been a sucker for blondes. But I think the thing that really clinched it for me was his 'short' outburst. After that I couldn't help myself.
It's all Martel's fault. When we were younger, in middle school, she used to pull stunts like that - she hated being called short, or dumb, or less-than-equal to any guy or girl around. Of course, now that we're juniors in high school that's pretty much over.
Which makes me wonder: Am I only trying to seduce this kid to get some kind of obscure revenge on my ex-girlfriend? I know I'm seriously messed up, but that would take the cake. "Envy," I mutter to myself, not caring if Ed hears, "you're on a fucking rebound."
Everything's still about Martel. Even though we broke up three days ago, everything is still about Martel. What am I trying to prove? What's the fucking point? Even this whole damn vacation has managed to be 'about Martel.'
As if he's echoing my own thoughts, Edo chooses this time to speak. "Why are you doing this?" he asks calmly, as though when the lights turned off they took his panic with him. (And they say I have mood swings.)
I snort and opt for the truth. "Like I fucking know." I reply. "I broke up with my girlfriend on Wednesday."
Ed raises an eyebrow a bit and settles back into his seat. Apparently, he's only afraid of me when I'm touching him. Or, maybe, he's gotten over his anxiety now that I have touched him. "What does that have to do with anything? Did you decide women are more troublesome, or something? Are you going for guys now?"
"No." I reply. I've never really made a distinction between relationships with women and relationships with other men. It doesn't honestly matter in the long run, does it? Just whether you're doing it back to front. Haha. In fact, before Martel I actually had a boyfriend. It's been a while though; I can't quite remember his name. So there, Edo. You're wrong.
There's another silence, and I wonder for a moment what Wrath and his boyfriend (I'm assuming it's this kid's little brother) are doing. They were playing video games, but now that it's dark and the power's out... Maybe they're having a 'romantic interlude'. I eye Ed surreptitiously and lick my lips. That doesn't sound like such a bad idea.
"Are you this difficult all the time?" Ed asks, and snaps me out of my reverie. He's giving me a skeptical look again, and I want to kick something. Or just fuck him. Or both. I wonder if he's a virgin. I've never made someone lose their virginity before, even Martel was 'secondhand goods'.
I grunt and, to all intents and purposes, end the conversation. I hope my darling mother's having fun. It's her fault - hers and Greed's - that I'm sitting here contemplating what it would be like having sex with my new next door neighbor. I wonder if the Elrics know what kind of person Dante really is. Hell, I wonder if her husband even knows. Probably, since they've obviously been together enough to have Wrath.
Well, shit. I could have gone my whole life without that wonderful mental image. "Do you have a girlfriend?" I ask Ed, out of the blue. Anyone from a mile away can tell that this guy is completely, irrevocably gay. I'm just not sure he knows it himself.
He blushes (again) and I laugh. "I'll take that as a no," I say, and slide across the leather couch until I'm nearly on top of him once again. Hm... that's an attractive thought. Why not? Soon enough, I'm straddling him, my knees supporting me on the couch, as I grab his upper arms and push them back against the couch, effectively restraining him.
His eyes widen as I press myself against him and kiss his neck, biting a bit just for the hell of it. He gasps and begins to struggle.
"Oh, shut up, Edo," I tell him, sitting back up and enjoying the sound of his impromptu nickname. "You know you want me." He probably doesn't, but if I manage to convince myself I can convince him too. "You're so fucking gay."
He growls, eyes narrowing, and leans forward and bites my lip. Shocked, I stand, pressing my fingers to my mouth. What the... He... I glare at him, and feel myself getting angry again. "So, you like it rough?" I ask darkly. Screw being nice.
"Can you stop?" Ed asks, sounding exasperated. He's crossed his arms over his chest, and, although his face is still a little red, he seems to have gained back a bit of his composure. "Look. If you want to be a horny bastard, do it on your own time. We're at a fucking dinner party. My mom is here. Your mom is here."
I smirk and cock my head to the side. "Does that mean you're all for it when nobody's home? I'm sure I could arrange something." Oh man, usually I'm not this... suggestive. I'm acting like Greed, actually. That thought kind of scares me so I push it out of my head and watch for Ed's reaction.
"I'm sure you could." he agrees, rolling his eyes as though he has the right to look down on me. I really don't get this kid. First he's all crazy and scared, then he's ridiculously calm, then he's scared again, and now he's condescending. Could someone please explain this to me? I'm sure there's a nice medical term for this sort of condition. Spoiled-kid-itis? Short Man Syndrome?
Before I can come up with a witty retort probably involving either or both of those imaginary diseases, I hear raised voices from outside. (I forced Ed to close the door when we came in.) "How are we going to eat with no lights?" some screechy voiced brat asks. Most likely Wrath.
"We'll use candles," a soft-voiced man replies. Definitely not my would-be daddy, so it's probably that Hohenheim guy. That name is such a handful to say, maybe in private I'll call him 'Hoho-papa' or something easier like that.
"Hey, Al!" someone else calls, and I think it's Ed's mother. "Go get Ed and Envy. I think they're in the living room! Tell them it's dinnertime."
Quickly, I step forward and grab Ed's jaw, kissing him firmly. He only makes a token show of resistance, secretly, I bet he likes it. That, or he's just afraid of what I'll do if he tries to bite me again. I nearly smile against his mouth, running my tongue along his bottom lip, and he gasps.
---
By the time the living room door opens, Ed and I are on opposite sides of the couch. He's looking flustered and slightly shell-shocked, obviously unsure how to respond to my advances. I'll take that as a sign of encouragement. I'm reclining on the opposite end, one leg crossed over the other, gazing pensively at the fire, the very picture of detachment.
Al - apparently Ed's little brother - looks between the two of us, shrugs, and delivers his message. "Mom says that dinner's ready and we're lucky we have a gas stove. She wants you guys to come and sit at the table, now."
A gas stove? What does that have to do with anything? Whatever. I rise gracefully to my feet and smooth my shirt. Ed's looking a little rumpled too. When his little brother turns his back I reach over and straighten his nice white collared shirt. No one can accuse me of being unhelpful, that's for sure.
The kid gives me a strange look but says nothing, wary of Al. I simply wink, and speed up so I'm ahead of him and he can't see my smile. Screw Martel; this looks like it'll be one hell of a vacation.
Especially if I can find out where he sleeps.
A few minutes later, the power is fixed and the light returns. With it, comes the Christmas music.
"Good tidings to you,
To you and your kin.
Good tidings for Christmas,
and a happy New Year!"
So, maybe Christmas doesn't suck that much after all.
I hope you enjoyed, and you didn't get turned off by the increasingly random mood swings and the random kissing scene. And now it's time for me to go, and be (metaphorically) dragged kicking and screaming from my lovely computer to participate in a Christmas party that our family was invited to by my mom's old friend. Which will entail uncomfortable hugs and introductions, being forced to socialize and make eye contact, and having awkward conversations with my former best-friend-for-life who happens to be our hostess's son. Woohoo. Joy.
Well, since no one reads my lame author notes anyway, I'll wrap it up now. I'd just like to wish everyone a very merry and safe Christmas and a lovely holiday, and to thank all the people who read this story. I LOVE YOU!! And, you know, I'd love you even more if you left a review.
Just kidding. ...But seriously...
Merry Christmas, 2007!