The Gift xx A Christmas Story

Ten years ago, Sakura made herself a promise.

It was a promise to forget, a promise to move on, and a promise to strengthen herself into a kunoichi whom she would be proud to be. She swore on that day never again to cry needless tears, never again to let anyone sweep her up in such a disastrous torrent of misery as he had so many times before, and to never again provide reason for people around her to pity her. She cast away her old self as easily as one might cast out a relative, for as much as she didn't want to admit it, that sniffly, naive little girl was a part of herself. Yet, through years and years of toiling battle and hardships she managed to leave that childish version of herself behind, pushing onwards to become a hardened and dedicated member of Konoha's society.

Ten years later, she couldn't help but to break that promise.

Dressed in a silken, jet-black dress that clung to the curves of her petite figure and swirled about her toned legs whenever she moved, she broke that promise. In front of her fellow shinobi and closest friends, in front of her previous mentors and teachers, and in front of her small students, she broke it. Yet somehow, she couldn't help but to let wave after wave of fresh tears well up from her sea-foam hues and splash uselessly down the lengths of her pale cheeks. She couldn't help but show everyone watching just how much hurt she was going through. She couldn't help but to stand there, clutching like a shell-shocked child on to anything she could - the hem of her dress, the sleeves of her knitted cardigan, the drooping petals of the single white rose she had gripped in one hand.

With small and hesitant steps, the pinkette made her way to the front of the darkly-dressed crowd, her delicate fingers stroking the stem of the precious flower as if the thorns that grew there were soft and pleasant to the touch. The mourners that she was weaving through parted as she approached them and cast solemn and apologetic glances at both her and her pitiful destination. Sakura neither saw nor registered these gazes and choose merely to stare ahead at that small dash of color amongst the sea of black.

His photograph; Sasuke's photograph.

It was an old but fitting photo, for within the confines of the frame it seemed to capture every aspect of his complex personality. His thick, raven tresses framed the feline angles of his jaw and contrasting against the pale-white skin of his face. His eyes were their regular obsidian-color, yet instead of the normal chilling feel that almost seemed to be present in his scare, they seemed to radiate a reserved amusement. His paper-thin lips were set in a relaxed line that curved up at the edges, hinting at a smile. He wore a loose, navy v-neck shirt that revealed crisscrosses of pearly scars that were simple momentos of past battles. He was standing by himself, leaning up against the wall of an apparent building, the orange light of a warm evening casting a healthy glow about his figure. It was a simple picture, yet at the same time beautiful. It was a reminder of times well-spent, it would seem.

The photograph itself rested on a small black table, surrounded by modest bouquets and singular flowers similar to the one in the kunoichi's hand. Gently, Sakura placed her rose before the frame and returned her arms to her sides, her lips set in an agonized line. Then she silently retreated back into the crowd, her fellow mourners scrambling to get out of her way as if she were a sort of voiceless wraith. The kunoichi ignored their stares and chose to keep her head low with her dulled jades lost among the infinite details of the cobblestone walkway beneath her feet. After wandering through the crowd for what seemed like hours, the rosette finally broke free from the throng and trudged listlessly towards an empty table in the back. Upon reaching it, she allowed herself to collapse into one of the chairs sitting beside it, her whole body slouching in on itself the minute she hit the chair. Her arms then instinctively wrapped around the small bulge above her abdomen while reluctant tears starting to leak forth from her emerald hues as she felt a gentle nudge from within her.

He'd been gone for eight months.

Before his disappearance, Sakura usually always made sure to get up early and see him off before his missions. She'd walk him to the gate, hold him close until the very last minute, kiss goodbye, and then stand and watch him and his team disappear down the path leading away from Konoha. But that last morning she didn't have a chance to do any of those things. On that morning Sasuke had turned off her alarm to allow her to sleep in, departing with nothing but a small note, wishing her luck at work with a promise to see her soon.

How desperately she wished she could have said goodbye to him on that morning so at least she could have seen his face one last time before the end. She wished that she could have stood at the gates as he dawned his porcelain mask and sped away into the surrounding forests. She wished that he hadn't been assigned a mission only three weeks after their wedding, and she wished that he was with her to help her with the impossibly task he'd left behind.

As if to reply to her qualms, the little nudger that dwelt within her womb shifted restlessly, and her whole body tensed until it finally settled again.

"Excuse me, Miss? Would you like a glass?"

The kunoichi slanted a depressed glance up at the speaker, only to find one of the hired waiters standing across from her with a tray of champagne glasses balanced in one hand. Sakura stared at him listlessly for a moment and then solemnly returned her gaze to her hands. After seeing that she had no intent of replying, the man awkwardly placed a full glass on the table in front of her and swiftly moved on to the next guest. The pinkette's dull hues flickered upward and stared at the amber liquor within the glass with a glazed look before turning sharply away, letting her thick rivelots of hair fall like a curtain in front of her face as she fought the tears that were now streaming down her cheeks.

Minutes later, the Haruno heard someone approaching her once more, but didn't make a move in response. The figure stopped beside her and just stood there for a pregnant moment before she felt a warm hand cautiously touch her shoulder. She lifted her head in surprise, her emeralds blinking back unshed tears as she caught sight of the saddened ceruleans that gazed back.

It distantly occurred to Sakura that her old teammate was more of a man than she'd ever thought he'd be. As a child, Naruto had always been known as the immature, babbling idiot who just didn't know when to quit, but as the years flew by and he grew older, he surpassed everyone's expectations by so much more than they could ever have hoped. He'd grown into being argueably one of the strongest shinobi in Konoha as well as being one of the most well-liked Hokages of all time. He'd saved countless lives, protected his village from harm on numerous occassions, and upheld good relations with almost every other hidden shinobi village on the continent. Yet, despite all of that, whenever Sakura looked at him she couldn't help but to see that same, awkward twelve-year-old that had so fervently sought her love as a child. It wrenched at her heart, because she knew that he still was that child, and this whole horribly ordeal was affecting him so much more than he could ever allow himself to let on to. Yet he still found time to come and comfort her, still found time every day since Sasuke's disappearance to seek her out and talk her through it.

She appreciated his little gestures so much, and she felt horrible bothering him anymore than she already had. So to hide as many of her tears as she could, she simply returned to staring at her hands, thus avoiding eye contact with Naruto all together.

"I'm sorry, Sakura," he said quietly. His voice was steady and soft, yet it seemed to only be a mask a top the violent storm of screaming saddness and depression that leaked through every letter of his apology.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Rokudaime-san," the kunoichi replied curtly, her voice a bleak monotone. The blond paused after her words, and she could almost feel him frowning at them.

"Sakura...." he started.

The pinkette whipped around and shot him a venomous glare, her glassy jade orbs scrutinizing the man's face as if daring him to utter another word. Naruto's bright eyes matched her gaze, although they were laced with concern instead of her fury, and his lips remained in a thin and unpenetrable line. He continued to survey her with his brow furrowed until he finally released a loose sigh and sat down beside her. He then inclined his head towards her in another effort to make eye contact, although she quickly turned her head away again in response.

When he finally spoke again, it was in a low baritone, thick with regret and a swelling, inner pain. "Stop calling me that, Sakura-chan. We've been friends since we were kids..."

She raised her head as if offended by those words, her eyes traveling across his face critically before swiftly averting to the tablecloth. "Gomen, Naruto-san," she muttered hotly. The blond sighed loudly and sat back in his chair, leaning his neck back to gaze at the graying sky. His cerulean hues orbs then flickered sideways, surveying the pinkette with a careful saddness.

"Sakura, I hate seeing you like this, and I don't think that you-" the blond started, forced to bite off his words as he was interrupted.

"That I should give up? That I should keep all of his things spick-and-spam and ready for his return and just fall asleep each and every night wondering aimlessly why he's not there next to me? Should I just pretend like everything is perfectly fine and that thi-this thing inside me is just going to be able to take care of itself?! Should I keep going on with my day-to-day life and pretend that he isn't gone?! Naruto, what the hell do you expect me to do?!" her voice rose sharply and cracked as she spat out the last few words, causing fresh tears to well up from her eyes and cascade down her raw cheeks.

Impulsively, Sakura abruptly whipped out her right hand and and wrenched an irridescent diamond ring from around her finger, thrusting the sparkling piece of jewelry out onto the table. It clattered uselessly against the glass surface before finally spinning to a stop on the far edge, and the kunoichi cast it a scathing look before turning her gaze away from the man still seated next to her.

It was their wedding ring. The most gorgeous and precious item she owned, a bangle that had once brought her so much happiness that was only now serving to bring her even more distress and endless torture.

Sakura heard Naruto's chair scrape against the uneven ground as he turned it, and all at once she felt the man wrap his thick arms about her and pull her into a fierce hug. She sat there unmoving for a moment, suspended in shock, before finally she felt herself break. Her emotions hit her in a thundering rush as she buried her face into his chest and she found herself melting into his embrace and choking on her sobs as waves of tears splashed down her cheeks.

"If he.... were here, I don't think he'd want you to be sad for him," the blond murmured quietly. "He'd want you to be proud that your husband died protecting his village. He'd want you to be able to move on without any guilt or pain or suffering. Your smiles made him happier than anything else, so if you really wanna do him one, lasting favor, just forgive yourself and try to make the best of it."

Sakura found a tiny, half-smile worming its way to the surface at his words, for in all her life she'd never heard him say anything so heart felt and deep. With a start, she suddenly realized that the small droplets of water that had been plopping onto her shoulder were not her own, but his. She bit her lip promptly, pulling away slowly as she wiped her eyes away on the back of her hand.

"Thank you, Naruto-kun," she whispered. He nodded slowly, his blurry aquamarine hues dropping slightly before slanting away.

"Naruto, would you mind putting this up by his picture for me when you go to give your little speech? I-I have a lecture to prepare f-for my class at the hospital, and I can't really deal with this right now...." asked the kunoichi asked quietly, retrieving the ring from where she'd cast it out across the table and placing it carefully in the palm of his hand.

The blond nodded slowly, his cerulean eyes roaming her pale face for a moment before glancing back at the crowd of mourners that had begun to thin with the coming of evening. Most of them only knew the Uchiha as one of the new-age Sannin, as the person who came out of nowhere to fight off the Akatsuki when Madara's war was upon the village. Only those of the original Rookie Nine and their elders knew of the countless mistakes he'd made before then, and how hard he'd fought to regain Konoha's trust upon his valient return.

So now as the end of the gathering drew near, only a chosen few stayed behind, and all of their faces were noticeably downcast and overwhelmed with a deep sense of loss.

Hatake Kakashi, garped in loose robes, stood towards the back. His face was masked, though the black fabric that usually covered it had been replaced by a thin, forest-green cloth that matched the lining of his traditional apparel. Though he had recently been appointed a spot on Konoha's Council and had ceased the relentless tire of missions due to his ever-increasing age, his dark eye seemed as bright and observant as ever, despite the saddness that swirled within its depths. The silver-haired man nodded slightly when he saw his former students looking at him before returning to the low conversation he'd been holding with Umino Iruka.

Iruka, too, had been placed in the council and both of them, however different their personalities were, had sparked an uncanny friendship. They and the third member Shizune hadn't had to think twice about appointing Naruto as the next Hokage after Tsunade's passing several years prior, and the whole village had prospered from his steadfast leadership.

Haruno Sakura had taken up the post as head medic at the hospital, working long and late hours to save as many lives as humanly possible. She also taught several genin anatomy and chakra control classes for aspiring medics. Naruto had forced her to cut down on her hospital hours considerably since her pregnancy however, though she had a habit of sneaking in for those extra hours whenever he was tied up with something important at his office.

Uchiha Sasuke had been in charge of the ANBU Black Ops and had lead the astute organization with an exceptional hand, always picking the strongest and finest teams that best suited the missions required of them, and never failed to find new recruits that ended up becoming extraordinary prodigies among the ANBU ranks. His favorite and most skilled divison, Falcon, along with himself had actually been the group to hunt down and capture the last remaining member of the Akatsuki, Konan, several years prior to the Uchiha's final disappearance. It was one of the main feats that had made him, along with his squad, famous in the eyes of the Konoha public.

The pinkette pushed her chair away from the table before her and warily stood, swaying slight as a sudden headrush pulsed through her temple. She pressed a palm to her forehead as the feeling passed before leafing through the courtyard with her peridot orbs, searching for one of the exits leading away from the gathering and back to the village. She found one quickly and turned and nodded towards the blond who was looking at her with a frown before hurrying away through the small knot of people.

She heard the Hokage's husky and tear-laced words suddenly echo out from the microphone behind her, and she quickly doubled her pace, hunching her shoulders as fluttering snow flakes began to float lazily past her to land lightly onto the powered earth.

"Cheers!"

The two gate keepers clinked their mugs of eggnog together cheerfully before they both tilted back their heads and chugged the milky, yellowish substance. They both let brief sighs pass through their lips as the liquid settled, and then they simply sat back to admire their handiwork.

Konoha was always festive around the holidays, and to keep spirits high, many chose to decorate they houses with twittering fairy lights and throngs of fresh mistletoe. This year, the gate keeping shinobi had decided to drag down their christmas ornaments and dress up the small booth that they had to sit behind for such long hours, and their finished product simply looked fantastic.

One of them grabbed the carton or eggnog and refilled his cup before taking several gluttonous sips, his eyelids drooping in a loopy bliss. "We did good, Haitou-san," he said in a slurred voice.

"Mhm. We should do this next year, except maybe start the decorating a bit earlier," replied his teammate.

"Yeah, although Christmas Eve was probably a little late..."

They both chuckled and sipped in unison before staring up in awe at their little booth. They had used taken fake pine garlands and wrapped it around the edges of the roof, and then on top of that had added a chromatic assortment of glowing Christmas lights. They had also taken other sets of these rainbow lights and laid them in a checkerboard pattern across the shingles. Along the ridge of the rooftop they'd also stuck a large blow-up santa, and to add some of their own flare, had wrapped one of their own forhead protectors around its forhead and stuck a blunt kunai in his gloved hand.

They had stock boughs of holly and mistle toe in every nook and cranny they could find too, and had bought a large christmas tree that they'd decorated with a bunch of random ornaments.

An annoying buzzer began to blare from within their booth, interrupting the session of admiring their work, and one of them rushed over towards it, quickly scanning the device's screen to see what was causing its upset. He let loose a held breath when he breezed through the highlighted text before melting into the chair sitting next to him, just as his partner quickly came in next to him.

"What?"

"Konoha shinobi approaching. It's probably Anko-san, she was visiting the natural herb gardens in the Wave Country on a hospital errand. She said she'd be back by now." They sighed before returning to the Monopoly game they'd been conducting, one of them swearing loudly when he landed on a hoteled Boardwalk. Their game continued to a little less than an hour until one went bankrupt, and then they relaxed in their chairs, boredly fighting off the waiting sleep that nipped at their heels.

When the soft sound of footsteps reached their ears, neither of them lifted a finger, both uninterested in sparking one of Anko's curt conversations. They watched warily as first a hazy shadow cast by the dappled moonlight came into view; steadily becoming larger until its full outline could be discerned. Both of the gate keepers felt their stomachs drop as shock played over across their pale expressions: No, it definitely was not Anko.

It was a man, standing warily in the dirt before them. He was tall and had the aura of a proud and perhaps arogant individual, but at the moment he simply looked beaten and thoroughly exhausted. His ANBU uniform was so ripped and torned and shredded that it was near unrecognizable. His chest protector hung evenly from his broad shoulders, one of the thick straps nearly severed by an apart blow that had continued down and cut through the thin navy-blue shirt he wore beneath it until it reached the pale skin of his collar, where it had slashed cruelly across it.

His right arm hung unnaturally limp at his side, and he had what would have been an arm warmer wrapped tightly about his bicep, stanching the bleeding of an apparent wound below it. Thick crimson dripped from the wound down his forhead to gather lazily at his dead fingertips, from where it plipped onto the dusty earth, staining it scarlet. His other arm, though covered by the sleeve, had been battered and sliced up heavily, and at points along it the navy-fabric was died a sickly brown. Despite these wounds this arm was wound about his middle, clutching at a wound in his side, where even more crimson was spilling from a deep stab wound.

His hallow and angular face was painfully serious, his coal-black eyes piercing the two shinobi's gazes with a bird-like accuracy. They narrowed slightly as they flickered between the two observers, cautiously examining them as they did him. His thick mane of raven-black spikes were much longer than they usually were, and they didn't stick up either, they hung tiredly again the back of his neck, mirroring his drained expression.

"Uchiha-san!" The guard named Haitou was the first to recover from shock as he rushed forward, bowing his head deeply towards the man who'd come to an uneasy stop before him. His partner soon followed, his expression still in a stunned daze.

"Call for a hospital dispatch and get Hokage-sama on the line, we-"

"No." His voice was hoarse and low with fatigue yet unwieldingly fierce and stern. And then, silently, he pushed past them, trudging tirelessly through the snow-covered pathway.

"But sir, your wounds-" piped in one of the gate keepers, his voice high-pitched with dark-haired man stopped abruptly and slowly turned towards them, a passive smirk spreading across his lips like fire. "I walked two hundred and fifty-seven miles to get this far. I have every intention of making it the last few hundred yards," the ANBU captain intoned sharply.

"But you should at least go to the hospital-"

"Any medic there isn't half as good as the one I've got waiting for me at home," he countered shortly, an amused twitch of a smirk playing across his thin lips.

The two guards stared with mouths open as he continued past them on his way down the dirt path that wound its way up into the heart of the village. Somehow, despite whatever hardships he endured during his months of disappearance, Sasuke hadn't changed at all.

The Haruno drew one of her thick fleece blankets over herself, a slight shiver running the length of her spine as she snuggled into the cushions of her old leather couch, her glittering gems roaming the lonely room with a tender softness. It was what would have been their first Christmas; a time where the stress of missions and pride and honor could take a break, and they could simply spend time with eachother. They could decorate a tree, listen to bad holiday carols, drink hot apple cider while enjoying eachothers quiet company....

A sudden wave of nausea flooded her system and the pinkette curled up against the cushions, fighting back the urge to be sick. She chose to look back to the tiny tree she had bought last minute in a feeble attempt to have some holiday spirit and the jumbled assortments of ornaments that hung along its small boughs.

Beneath it lay a few wrapped gifts from those close to her. Naruto's large orange present, Ino's small rectangular box, a ribbon-tied scroll from Kakashi, among other things. She also recieved many presents from her students at the hospital and several generous patients she'd helped cure. A large number of the gifts, she found, were not for her but for the child curled within her belly, and the thought that the toys and clothes that were wrapped carefully within these box actually being used in the future scared her tremendously, and she hurriedly shut her eyes to keep such images at bay.

There was also several presents neither for her or her impending child, and she dared not even look at those chosen few.

Wordlessly, Sakura glanced up towards the mantle piece where one of the house-hold clocks sat ticking away, eying its hands beforeswiftly dropping her gaze again.

3:00am. Merry Christmas, little guy.

She hesitantly pulled up the fabric of her nightgown to reveal her white sleeping shorts and her well-rounded stomach, biting her lip as she took in how fast the bulge was growing. She then moved her hand to her abdomen and ran a gentle finger down its surface, tracing swirling patterns over its smooth surface for a while before she pulled her lacy gown back over her torso.

She was about to reach out and pick up her mug of hot-cocoa when a soft knock reverberated through the apartment.

The lady kunoichi turned towards the dimly lit hall behind her, blinking slowly. She carefully slipped her frigid toes into the warm pair of slippers she had waiting for them beside the couch before wrapping her blanket about her shoulders to stand and make her way to the door.

She advanced towards the door warily, tightening her grip on the blanket swirling about her as she set her eyes on the gleaming silver handle, suspicion rising like hot lead in her dry throat. She swallowed it quickly before letting her fingers carefully wrap around the wintry metal, twist, and then pulled.

Her heart fluttered violently in her breast, skipping a chorus of beats before finally picking back up again at an increasingly sporadic rate. Her eyes were wide, her hands trembling in place as they feebly held her blanket to herself. She felt her knees nearly buckle and she swayed suddenly before catching herself, letting her jades once again lift and take in the beautiful face that intercepted her gaze.

He was exactly like she'd pictured in her dreams; exactly how she remembered him. His face was like a perfectly-chiseled statue; every angular edge of alabaster glory leaking of an intoxicating and godly aura. She stared into those gleaming, liquid obsidian gems, completely loosing herself in the pair of endless abysses as she struggled for something--anything--to say.

So she didn't say anything. She just took one step and flung herself around his neck, burying her face into his chest as she completely lost her hands in his thick mane. She couldn't believe he was here, couldn't believe that he was alive and that he was real and standing with her.

Sakura pulled back slowly, looking up into his dark hues as she slid her hands down from his hair to touch his perfect face, making sure he was actually real. But he didn't fade or vanish, he remained right where he was, and she buried into him once more, enjoying his musty smell as it completely enveloped her.

Slowly Sasuke reacted to her touch, his movements careful and unusually gentle, as if he too were suddenly afraid that she would disappear. He simply rested his chin on the crown of her head, a drawn-out sigh escaping from his lungs.

"What took you so long?" Her almost-silent murmur rippled past her lips as she took a tentative step back, filled with a saddened warmth as she examined him more closely now as she waited for an answer.

Abruptly she got sight of all the scarlet that stained his pale skin, and the familiar jitters that always raced through her veins at the site of an injured patient flooded her system. His skin, though it had always been pale, was a sickly white, and the deep shadows beneath his dulled eyes were a ghastly, livid purple. Deep scratches and slices were crisscrossed across his once so beautifully-unmarred face, giving him a sinister look that was on the verge of being maniacal.

The rest of him looked dreadful as well, like one of the countless war victims that had been recovered after the destruction of Konoha, except instead of being crushed by a giant piece of rubble and dead, he had been stabbed and bruised and burned by countless volleys of jutsu and had somehow lived. His wounds were in the multitudes, all of them seeping thick crimson blood, and she winced upon seeing the larger one on his right arm, where the laceration there looked to have cut all the way through his muscle and bone to and through to the opposite side of his arm, a blow that would have been fatal had he not had the sense to bind it.

At first glance his overall posture and expression had looked merely tired, but now after carefully examined him, he looked worse by tenfold. It was as if he had been holding back all of his overwhelming exhaustion and fatigue, and now that he'd finally made it to her, he was letting go of the strong will that had gotten him that far for he just hadn't the energy to keep it up for any longer.

Without thinking she moved to grab the hand of his uninjured arm before pulling him gently through the door, searching blindly for somewhere for him to sit. He still hadn't said anything, and he let her tow him through the familiar rooms until they reached the living room where she pushed him into the couch she'd been sitting in only moments before.

She started ripping off his clothes quickly, tearing away the fabric trying to get to his wounds to see their full extents. He just tried not to get in her way, his eyes slowly closing as she finally got his dark undershirt off of his skin.

Without even fully calculating his injuries her hands charged up with her glimmering mint chakra as she carefully moved over the biggest wound she could find; the one in his side. His whole body flinched instinctively away from her touch, but slowly he became accustomed to the warm pulsing glow, and she felt him finally relax beneath her fingers. It was deep, and it had missed cutting through his apendix by a mere centimeters, which was a stroke of luck beyond what the pinkette could have hoped for. She patched it up as well as she could before moving to his arm.

This one, though it too was deep and severe, was not life-threatening, so there was less urgency in the healing process, so she took a little more time with it, really making sure that all of the individual tendons and nerves were lined up perfectly with the muscle and bone. When she finished she was forced to leave him for a moment to grab a damp rag, and was filled with a tremendous relief to find him still waiting for her, except he'd managed to prop himself up so that he leaned against the sofa's armrest.

He glanced up at her as she approached, still looking thoroughly exhausted but at the same time better than it had only moments before.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked him, seating herself next to him on the couch.

"About to," he breathed.

She turned her face towards his, letting a smile creep across her lips when she found his face only a breath away from hers. She felt her eyes close as his lips pressed against hers, and his kiss was soft and passionate and every bit as amazing as she remembered. She leaned back in surprise as he nipped her lower lip playfully before swelling up to meet it, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. She felt his rough hands wrap gently about her waist then suddenly freeze as they met the curve of her belly, and all to quickly he was pushing her away. A pitiful moan escaped her as their lips broke contact, and her eyes fluttered open to get a look at his face, though her frown quickly vanished when she really saw his uncharacteristically-baffled expression.

She glanced down at where his eyes were blatantly glued to, finding her cheeks flushing scarlet.

"You're...?" he whispered, eyes still wide.

"Yeah," she replied quietly, shifting uneasily beneath his gaze.

"Is it..?" Mine?

"Of course." Like it would be anyone elses, you lovable-idiot.

And then his lips were back again and she swooned as he pulled her on top of himself, feeling so perfectly at peace with her body pressed against his. He was so soft, so gentle with her, as if he was afraid she might break if he went to fast, or perhaps he hadn't the energy to do it any other way. Regardless, it felt perfect, and she couldn't help but to lose herself in the endless bliss that consumed her as he left endless trails of kisses all over her.

He was finally with her again, and that was all that really mattered.

Authors Note:

As promised, a gloriously-cheesy Christmas fic! I hope everyone liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it. :] I haven't written a One-Shot in a really long time, so I apologize if the style was a bit cluttered or too factual in places; it was originally intended to be a much longer fiction, but was adapted into a more Christmas-y style when I discovered that I really don't have time to uphold another long-term fic. But all things aside, I hope you liked it!

And if you haven't already, feel free to check out one of my other two fanfics. I'm just finishing an update for Howling Love and am plotting new story developments for Shattered, so keep your eyes peeled!

And I would very much appreciate REVIEWS! You guys make posting these things worth while, and I love hearing all of your comments and thoughts! Thanks so much! I love you guys! :]

-- xxIndigo

And I would very much appreciate REVIEWS! You guys make posting these things worth while, and I love hearing all of your comments and thoughts.