Author's notes:

Originally written for the LJ Smutty Claus Fic Fest 2011 as a gift for cryptaknight.

Most annoyingly, The Fates and The Muses were fickle while I was working on this fic. I had two false starts before finally finishing at just about the eleventh hour. Thanks to my beta for getting me through. cryptaknight, You had some great prompts. :) I managed to make sure there was some plot, a bit of mystery, and a decent dose of humour and snark to go along with the smut. I hope you enjoy this gift. Happy Holidays!

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and concepts contained within are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, trademarked and copyrighted by Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic Inc., and Warner Bros. Entertainment and are used without permission. No profit is being made from the use of these characters and concepts. Infringement is not intended.

December 21, 2003

"I've got a package here for a Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione looked up from the letter she had been writing to Draco. She had just been reminiscing about how they'd gotten together, for as improbable as it may have been given their negative history, she had started dating Draco Malfoy almost a year ago.

It was at a New Year's Eve party held by the Patil twins. Three months earlier, she and Ron had had a bittersweet but friendly breakup, realizing they would never truly feel more than fraternal love for one another. Now, the twins' party was an exciting opportunity, for Hermione had warmed to the idea of attending the gala event as a single woman.

Soon after arriving, she and Draco had run into each other, literally, at the punch bowl. Draco had spilled his punch all down the front of Hermione's dress and the two of them had had a tremendous row about whose fault it was. An inebriated Justin Finch-Fletchley, standing nearby, had attempted to help clean her gown with his wand, accidentally rendering it transparent at the same time.

In an unexpected display of chivalry, Draco had whipped out his own wand and returned Hermione's modesty to her with a flick of the wrist. He'd hexed Justin with a Jelly-Legs Jinx for good measure. Afterwards, their argument forgotten, Draco whisked her onto the dance floor and stayed by her side for the rest of the night, murmuring witty, snarky, and above all, accurate, comments about Justin and the rest of the party attendees into her ear until she felt weak from laughter.

She also felt stirrings of real desire, the first she had ever really had in her life. She wasn't sure what to do about it, until just before midnight when Draco admitted to her that he'd fancied her for years. Her brains, her strength of character, her hair – all of her. He regretted the cowardice which had kept him from declaring his feelings, he whispered, but with Voldemort in power there had been too much fear, uncertainty, and anger in the air. Now, he wanted to show her, finally, how he felt. As the clock struck twelve, Draco had astounded her with a mind-blowing kiss, which she had eagerly reciprocated. The two of them had been a couple ever since.

Their friends had been gob-smacked by the relationship at first but eventually came to accept it. It helped their unlikely pairing that Draco was an Auror alongside Ron and Harry. He had become an Auror in an attempt to right the wrongs Voldemort had inflicted on the world. His knowledge of and insight into the Death Eaters who were still at-large had been tremendously helpful in capturing the rogues. Working together since the war had ended, he, Ron, and Harry had called a truce and developed a professional friendship. Thus, when Draco started romancing Hermione, Harry and Ron were willing to give them a chance.

As she and Draco spent more and more time together, Hermione happily realized that his intelligence rivaled her own. Their discussions, arguments, and debates stimulated her mind and stoked her carnal desires. As for Draco, in public he was still his irascible, sarcastic self, but in private, he preened in the warmth of her generous heart and spent hours worshipping her with his words, his mouth, his hands, and his body. For months, they were happy and blissful.

Then, five weeks ago, three fugitive Death Eaters were spotted in Cairo. Kingsley Shacklebolt had sent four of his best young Aurors - Harry, Ron, Neville, and Draco - to Egypt with orders to stay there until the Death Eaters were apprehended. Thus far, they had been thwarted in their attempts to nab them.

Trying to be pragmatic about being apart this Christmas season, Hermione and Draco sent each other frequent letters. In her missives, she told him about how much snow had fallen, her latest crusades at work, nights out with her girlfriends, and described the newest lingerie she'd purchased with him in mind. In his long replies, Draco complained sardonically about Ron's snoring, Neville's sleepwalking, and about Harry being, well, Harry. He'd also moan about the amount of sand that seemed to accumulate in every one of his orifices. After that, the letters' tone would change and he would tell her in detail how he would chew her new knickers right off her body as soon as they were reunited, using words that made her flush with lust. What a romantic he is, she always thought wryly, as she hid his letters from others' prying eyes.

Now, here in her office, a little old man dressed in vivid, chartreuse deliverywizard's robes stood before her desk, holding a square, wrapped box in his hands. The nametag on his chest proclaimed that he was 'Marty.'

"I'm Miss Granger," she answered. The wizard smiled toothlessly, set the package carefully on her desk, and handed her a white envelope. He touched his cap in a salute. "Enjoy, miss!"

He started to leave, but Hermione stood up quickly and asked, "Wait, um, 'Marty?' Do you know where it came from? What is it? Who sent it?"

Marty shrugged. "I don't know who sent it, miss. It was an anonymous request. As for what it is, well, you are in for a treat, if where I picked it up is any indication." He winked as he walked out the door.

Hermione eyed the box with apprehensive curiosity. It was about a foot square but only three inches high, and was covered in golden wrapping paper with a shiny red ribbon, tied in a bow. She touched the box gingerly with her wand, but absolutely nothing happened.

Susan Bones, whose office was across the hall from Hermione's, poked her head in the door. The two of them had become good friends since Hogwarts, working together in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They often collaborated on writing proposals for laws advocating house-elf rights. Susan loved a mystery. She was also quite the romantic.

"Was that a deliverywizard just now? Did he give you a present? Is it from a man? Oh, what is it?" she asked all in a rush, approaching the desk where the package lay.

"I don't know. I haven't opened it yet."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Who's it from?" Susan bounced up and down on the balls of her feet in excitement.

Hermione believed in caution. She knew that as one of the main heroes of the war, rogue Death Eaters would like to see the last of her. She wouldn't put it past one of them to send her something wicked. So, ignoring the impatient Susan, she used her wand to cast a series of "Dark detection" spells over the package and double-checked the personal Sneakoscope she kept on her desk. None of them revealed any nefarious magic at work.

She finally picked up the envelope, withdrew a plain white card, and read aloud, "'A sweet treat for a sweetheart, (signed) The Ice Man.'

The Ice Man? I wonder who that could be," she mused, turning the card over but finding no other markings. The lettering was nondescript and unfamiliar.

"Ooo, it sounds like a secret admirer!" Susan said gleefully.

"Susan, I'm dating Draco; I hardly think I have a secret admirer," started Hermione, but Susan interrupted her, laughing.

"Oh Hermione, you are so totally oblivious, aren't you? That's why he'd be secret, silly! Lots of men have been eying you, and not just the old farts, either. There's Seamus Finnegan, Ernie Macmillan, Terry Boot…" Susan counted the men off on her fingers. "They've all been trying to get your attention for months now."

"Really?" Taken aback, Hermione felt herself blushing.

"Yes. Oh, I forgot to say Zacharias Smith. He's always had a bit of a thing for you, ever since Dumbledore's Army." Susan winked. "You were so bossy and domineering. He seems to find that an attractive quality in a woman."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's funny. Draco seems to get off on it, too. What is it with men and being dominated?"

Susan giggled as Hermione carefully untied the bow and ribbon. At her touch, the paper fell away, revealing a white box with the words 'Honeydukes Chocolates' embossed on the top.

"Oh my goodness," she exclaimed, and opened the box, which contained a huge selection of the finest truffles, confections, and filled sweets. Her mouth watered.

Susan sighed. "Oh they smell so good. I wish I had a secret admirer who'd send me goodies!"

Hermione offered Susan the box, telling her to help herself. She took one and moaned over its flavour. "Lovely!"

"I don't think this is from an admirer. Ginny probably sent them. She's been missing Harry and knows I miss Draco," Hermione said as she bit into a truffle.

Her friend scoffed. "Yeah, right, and I'm Mrs. Claus. Believe what you will, Queen of Denial, but I think someone's got a crush on you and is trying to move in while Draco's away," Susan said, grinning, and went back to her own office after taking another sweet.

Hermione returned to her writing, but paused after every few lines to eat another of the delicious chocolates.

I wonder who sent these? she thought to herself. Aloud, she said, "Thank you, Ice Man, whoever you are!"

Smiling to herself, she finished the letter and sent it off by owl to Draco. Selecting one more treat, she hid the box in the drawer of her desk and buried herself once more in her work.

December 22, 2003

Snowy and windy, the driving wind had bitten deeply into Hermione's bones. She shivered as she stripped off her outer cloak and her threadbare gloves. She needed new ones, but had not had time to purchase them. While Christmas shopping she always forgot, intent as she was on buying gifts for other people.

The entire day passed uneventfully. She found it hard to concentrate by the time 3:00 came, wondering if there would be a delivery today, but there was no afternoon gift of chocolate. Every sound of steps in the hallway outside caused her to prick her ears and wonder if her door would be opening. Susan began to annoy her with her constant checking in to see if another gift had arrived. When her co-worker left at 4:30, Hermione scolded herself to stop being so foolish and started working on a new elf rights proposal.

At 4:45, she heard whistling in the corridor. It stopped outside her door and there was a sharp rap on the glass. "Come in!" she called, and her face lit up as Marty stepped into the room.

"Delivery for Miss Granger," he said, tipping his hat to her and handing her a long, flat package. There was a card attached to the outside.

"Thank you, Marty," Hermione said happily, eagerly opening the card, and she only vaguely heard his "'Til tomorrow, miss!" as he bowed his way out the door.

"'Cold hands, warm heart' is the saying, but your warm heart deserves warmth all over, (signed) The Ice Man" she read. The package contained a beautiful red pashmina scarf, a soft, matching hat, and a lovely pair of red, fleece-lined gloves, all delightfully warm. They were from Twilfit and Tattings. The package insert said they had a permanent warming charm placed on them to keep you toasty no matter what the weather. Hermione hugged them to her chest. She thought of Draco and blushed, feeling a bit guilty for her delight over another Ice Man gift, but these were so nice and just what she needed.

Seeing that it was now 5:00, she cheerfully donned the hat, scarf, and gloves, tossed her old ratty gloves into the bin with a flourish, and wrapped her traveling cloak snugly around her. She was meeting Ginny for dinner and to do some last minute Christmas shopping. For once, she was not going to mind walking in the cold of Diagon Alley.

"Thank you, Ice Man," she murmured to the air as she departed the office.

December 23, 2003

Marty the deliverywizard appeared at her desk early in the morning. He touched his cap. "Good mornin'! Delivery for Miss Granger," he announced, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

He handed her a card identical to the previous two. This one read, "Ice is cold and hard, but has a beauty all its own. I wish to share it with you, always. (signed) The Ice Man."

Hermione eyed him with suspicion. "Why are you grinning so hard, Marty?" she asked.

Not bothering to hide his gleeful expression, the old man said, "You'll see soon enough, miss. Would you hold the door open for me, miss, while I bring it in?"

Hermione held the door and Marty wheeled in an enormous ice sculpture: a man-sized replica of Michelangelo's David, right down to the lack of a fig leaf. Perched jauntily on David's head was a red Santa hat. Still grinning, Marty touched his cap again and left, singing a jolly Christmas carol.

Susan walked in, mouth agape.

"Holy house-elves, Hermione, is this from your admirer?"

Hermione was shaking her head in disbelief. "Yes, the Ice Man has struck again. What in the world was he thinking?"

Her office was not large. Susan squeezed her way around the statue. "It's beautiful. Well, handsome. Gosh, maybe the ice man really looks like this?" Her eyes were glowing as she appraised David's naughty bits. "Hmm. He's not very big, is he?"

Hermione snorted in amusement. She quipped, "Well, its cold outside, isn't it? You can't expect the poor guy to be at his best in the, um, manhood department when temperatures are so low." She looked the sculpture up and down. "If you are right, and my 'admirer' is saying this is him, he certainly has a high opinion of himself if he thinks he's equal to Michelangelo's David!"

"Who's Michelangelo's David?" asked Susan, still examining the sculptured ice man.

Hermione sighed and shook her head, wondering if David would melt all over her papers.

December 24, 2003

The next day was Christmas Eve and Hermione was feeling rather melancholy. She missed Draco and 'her boys'. Watching happy couples holding hands while on the way to work hadn't helped her mood this morning. She hadn't heard from Draco since her last letter. She'd been able to count on next-day replies from him for weeks, so she didn't know what to think about his silence. She hoped nothing bad had happened.

Thankfully, when she entered her office she found that David had not melted all over everything. He was charmed with some sort of magical stasis field. Hermione decided to enjoy herself as best she could, and plucked the Santa hat off David's head to wear for the day. She found herself hoping that another gift would appear, greedy though she thought that sounded, for it would give her some of the cheer that she was sorely lacking.

That afternoon she and Susan shared a bottle of cheap champagne before her friend hiccupped her way home for the holidays. Susan gave Hermione a comforting hug before leaving, for there had been no visit from Marty all day. Taking the remains of her gift of chocolates with her, Hermione trudged slowly to the lifts and rode one to the Atrium. She had a slow look around before Flooing home, hoping she might see the little deliverywizard bustling towards her. Sadly, she did not, so home she went.

Though she was invited to the Burrow for Christmas Eve festivities and to stay overnight, she had begged off, saying she had some final wrapping to do and cards to write. To appease them, she promised Molly and Arthur she'd be there the next morning so she could be part of all the day's fun.

In reality, of course, Hermione's presents were already wrapped and the cards all written; she just wanted to be alone and feel sorry for herself. She knew she was being childish, but right at that moment, she didn't care. She poured herself some wine and heated a bowl of chicken soup for her supper, sharing bits of the chicken with Crookshanks. Afterwards, she sat on the sofa in front of her fireplace to cuddle her pet for a couple of hours. When a yawn threatened to split her head in two, she finally realized she was just sitting up in hopes that an owl would knock on her window with a letter from Draco. Shaking herself into action, she dropped Crookshanks onto the sofa and went to conjure herself a nice, hot bubble bath.

She stayed in the tub for an hour, drinking more wine and reading Dickens' A Christmas Carol. At the stroke of midnight, Hermione was climbing into bed in her dowdy flannel nightgown. She curled into a ball to avoid the cold, empty right side where Draco normally slept. Crookshanks joined her, purring his rusty purr and kneading her bottom with his paws before settling down.

"Happy Christmas, Draco," she whispered sadly as she fell asleep. "I love you, you know."

A few hours later, a loud crash startled both Crookshanks and Hermione awake. Heart pounding, she grabbed her wand from the bedside table and cast Lumos. The clock read just 4:30 in the morning. Slipping out from under the covers, Hermione tiptoed out of her room and down the hall towards the living room, where she could hear what sounded like tapping on glass. An owl! she thought wildly.

The living room was mostly dark, with just a faint glow from the coals in the fireplace keeping it from being pitch black. The tapping at the window was louder now but she couldn't see anything outside. Her wand's light was reflecting too much. Still half-asleep and anxious to get her letter, Hermione heedlessly ran to the window and opened it.

A tall, dark form tumbled clumsily into the room, muffled swearing erupting from it. It appeared to be a man. It was certainly not an owl. Hermione shrieked and backed away behind a rocking chair, aiming her wand at the intruder.

The man struggled with his cloak, which had tangled around his legs, but as soon as he'd freed his limbs and made to stand, Hermione struck.

"Petrificus totalus!" she cried.

The man hit the floor with a bone-rattling thud, stiff as a board. Crookshanks hissed from the doorway. Hermione pointed her wand at the fireplace, making the fire roar to life, and then she scurried over to find out who this home invader was.

He was clothed from head to toe in black. Even his head and face were covered with a black balaclava. Only his eyes were visible. She brought her wand closer as she reached to remove the mask, and saw that his wide-staring eyes were grey.

Grey?

She ripped the balaclava off his head, yanking his hair as she did so, revealing,

"Draco?"

She stared disbelievingly at him as he lay motionless before her. She seemed to be frozen herself, until Crookshanks padded over and rubbed his cheek against Draco's, purring loudly. Hermione snapped out of her trance and removed the Full Body-Bind Curse with a firm "Finite!"

Draco immediately groaned and tried to sit up. "Bloody hell, woman! Is that any way to welcome home the love of your life? First you make me fall through the window, then you petrify me, then you tear all my hair out!" Draco's hands went to his head, gingerly touching the back of it and then checking his fingers for blood. "Fuck, that hurt! Merlin, I'm bloody freezing, too." He continued to spew epithets. Finally, Hermione had had enough.

"I didn't tear all your hair out, and anyway, what are you doing trying to get into my window at this time of night?" she snapped back at him. "Why not Apparate inside like a normal wizard? I would never have opened the window if I'd realized you weren't an owl delivering a letter. Dressed all dark and dreary like that, I thought you were an intruder! You could have been anyone. You could have been that weirdo 'Ice Man' who's been stalking me!" She punched him in the shoulder. "Why haven't you written? I was afraid you'd been hurt!" she wailed at last, bursting into tears as relief flooded her system and the adrenalin rush ebbed.

"Ah, damn it. I've mucked everything up," Draco muttered, and pulled her into his arms. He drew his own wand and flicked it at the window, shutting it, then turned to Hermione and dropped his mouth onto hers, swallowing her sobs, comforting her. His lips were cold, but as his warm tongue probed her lips, seeking entrance, its heat made her whimper and she opened to him. With a moan of gratitude, Draco explored her mouth thoroughly with his, teasing her lips and tongue, nibbling at her lower lip. She clutched at his robes, pulling him closer, as he snogged her senseless.

Finally, Draco broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.

"Salazar's sins, I've been looking forward to that for weeks, angel." He nuzzled her nose with his cold one. "I'm sorry that I scared you, Hermione. I didn't realize your wards would be so bloody strong. I'm exhausted and wasn't thinking straight." The aggravation in his voice brought a smile to Hermione's lips.

She nuzzled him back. "Apparently so tired you forgot that I adjusted the wards to allow you entrance months ago. You Apparated onto my windowsill? You are lucky you didn't Splinch yourself."

"That would definitely have put a damper on my plans for you," he said with a leer. His warm breath gusted over Hermione's cheeks and he kissed her again. He fingered her modest night attire. "Flannel, eh? Very kinky," he noted.

She chuckled and began to melt into his arms, but pulled back suddenly and frowned. "So why didn't you write back? Did you get my last letter? Why are you here at all?"

"Easy, love, easy. Yes, I got it, but I've been debriefing with the others since the 21st. We caught the Death Eaters, angel. All three of them – the Carrows and Dolohov." He rubbed his cold nose against her collarbone, grinning when she shivered.

"Really? That's wonderful, Draco-OH!" she yelped as he slid his still-freezing hands up under her nightgown, clamping them onto her warm back. "You prat!" She tried to swat him away but he held her tightly against him.

"Ahh, that's much better," he said, ignoring her spluttering. He settled himself more comfortably on the floor with his back against the sofa. He adjusted Hermione in his lap, her thighs straddling him, and began to rub slow circles around her back and stomach with his now-warm fingers.

She covered his mouth as he tried to kiss her some more. She was still miffed with his icy hand stunt. There was one part of him that wasn't cold, however. Hermione could feel the heat of his erection through his trousers. She squirmed against him, making him groan.

"I've had a secret admirer while you've been gone," she said, casually. "He signed all of his gifts and cards as 'The Ice Man'."

"Oh yes?" asked Draco, distracted. "And what sort of gifts did this 'Snowman' give you?"

"It's 'The Ice Man', actually. Pay attention. He gave me some delicious chocolates, some lovely warm things to wear in the cold, and a life-sized ice sculpture," she said, ticking them off one by one. "It made my last few days much more bearable, knowing that someone out there appreciates me." She smirked.

Draco smirked back. "What did you think of that David sculpture, then? Quite a similarity between us, don't you think?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I didn't tell you it was a sculpture of David, Draco."

Draco paled. "Oh. Didn't you? Um, it was a lucky guess?" He gulped as Hermione poked him in the chest.

"Admit it! You were the Ice Man all along, weren't you!" she crowed. She started to tickle him. Bucking under her, he tried to escape her fingers without dislodging her from where she rested in his lap. Finally, he gave up.

"Yes, yes! I admit it! I sent you the gifts," he gasped. "I arranged for the deliveries a couple of weeks ago. Please stop!"

Hermione stopped tickling and slid her arms around him under his cloak instead. Burying her face against his neck, she whispered, "Thank you for everything, my Ice Man. They were all wonderful presents. I admit I felt childish today when there was no delivery. What a Greedy Gertrude I am." She gave him a squeeze.

"Yes, you are. It's terrible." Draco agreed. "But, it just so happens that The Ice Man has one more gift for you, angel, but he wanted to deliver it in person." He smiled down at her. She lifted her head.

"Really?"

"Really." He nodded at his inner robe pocket. "It's in there, and since it is now Christmas morning, I think you should open it, don't you? Before it melts all over the place?" His grey eyes twinkled.

Hermione smiled widely. "Most definitely. It is Christmas, after all."

She slipped a hand into the pocket and withdrew a small, cubical package, wrapped in plain, green paper. She raised an eyebrow at him. His expression was inscrutable. She tore the paper off, her hands trembling, to reveal a small, velvet box.

"Draco?" she asked, her voice quivering, as he gently took the box from her hands before opening it, showing her the contents.

A beautiful diamond ring was nestled inside. On either side of the sparkling diamond there were smaller gemstones: a ruby and yellow topaz on one side, an emerald and tiny pearl on the other.

"The Ice Man wants to present you with some permanent ice, angel." Draco said, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. He cleared his throat. Pointing to the smaller stones, he said, "Gryffindor and Slytherin. Granger and Malfoy. Hermione and Draco." He looked at her beseechingly. "Will you be mine, Hermione?"

She nodded, her eyes misting over. "Oh Draco. Of course I'll marry you, 'Ice Man'."

With a giant sigh of relief, he slid the ring onto her left hand. She felt its coolness dissipate as it absorbed the warmth of her finger. She held up her hand and the ring glittered in the firelight.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

Instead of answering, Hermione, eyes gleaming, took hold of the hem of her demure flannel nightgown and pulled it off over her head in one smooth movement. She was naked beneath and her golden skin glowed in the firelight as she slowly leaned forward to kiss him. He moaned when she sucked his lower lip into her mouth, nibbling gently. He reached for her breasts, cupping them in his hands, and circled his thumbs over both nipples, teasing them to tightness. With a whimper, Hermione's breathing sped up.

When Draco pinched her nipples and tugged them away from her body, Hermione cried out and thrust her breasts forward, arching her back. Suddenly wild, she quickly unbuckled his belt and pawed at his trousers, yanking open his fly. She reached in to free his erection and began stroking him with strong, firm pulls. Seminal fluid oozed from the tip. Drawing his foreskin back completely, she used a thumb to rub the slippery liquid all over his crown while her other hand caressed his balls. Draco was muttered a constant litany under his breath: how good she felt, how gorgeous she was, how much he had missed her and oh, fuck, please, Hermione,please don't tease me.

Hermione, rising up on her knees, quickly positioned his cock at her entrance and held him in place. She lowered herself onto him with a sigh of pleasure. As he entered her, Draco threw his head back with a shout, gripping her hips and thrusting up into her completely. Hermione gasped loudly and began to rock, moving up and down on his shaft, taking him into herself to the hilt again and again as they ground against each other.

"Fuck, oh, fuck, Hermione, I'm going to come, angel," Draco stuttered, but he managed to slip one hand down between them and rub her clitoris with his thumb. He circled it with just the right pressure to make Hermione's orgasm build quickly. "Come for me, love, please."

"Yes, Draco … that's it. Oh, gods, I'm close. I'm, I'm ...Oh!" Hermione came apart around him, her vagina clenching tight as she lost herself in her climax, calling out to him.

Her rippling, squeezing muscles and cries of ecstasy drove Draco over the brink. His orgasm exploded out of him with a yell of her name. He held onto her buttocks as he shoved his spurting cock into her, spraying his semen inside her again and again.

As they came down to earth, Draco drew Hermione against his still-clothed, heaving chest, his hands in her hair, lips covering her face with soft, sweet kisses. After a few moments she crawled off him, his penis slipping from inside her, and leaned against his side. They looked into each other's eyes as a smug grin crept onto his face.

"So. Does that mean you like the ring?" he asked.

She laughed breathlessly. "Yes, Draco. I think I made that clear." She patted his chest. "It's true, by the way."

He tilted his head quizzically. "What's true, angel?"

"Now we know for sure that 'The Ice Man Cometh'," she said with a saucy grin.

Groaning loudly, Draco scooped her into his arms and marched down the hall to the bedroom, where they proceeded to warm each other up thoroughly.

It was a wonderful Christmas.