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20 December 2013 @ 03:07 pm
Leigh!fic | Santa Baby (Hurry Down the Chimney Tonight) (1/1) | Pink Sheep  
Title: Santa Baby (Hurry Down the Chimney Tonight) (1/1)
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Fleur Delacour-Weasley, Gabrielle Delacour, Julian Vaisey, Katie Ackerley (Bell), Lisa Macmillan (Turpin), Natalie McDonald, Padma Patil, Pansy Montague (Parkinson), Stephen Cornfoot
Rating: R
Word Count: ~3,200
Summary: Come and trim my Christmas tree with some decorations bought at Tiffany’s…
Author's Notes: Two years ago, I wrote a similar New Year’s Eve piece offering a glimpse into how my pinksheep_wench RPG characters were spending the holiday. This is a glimpse into their Christmas Even this year -- it’s 2010 in game. Dedicated to my wenches -- you know who you are and how much y’all mean to me. Merry Christmas, y’all! ♥


Nearly midnight on Christmas Eve found Fleur propped up in her childhood bed, reading an old novel she'd found buried in a box full of childhood belongings. The children were abed in the spare room her parents had converted to a nursery, and Bill had wandered down to the kitchen for a glass of water.

After an early Mass service at the village church in Saint Laurent du Bois, they'd returned home to a Christmas feast: a roasted rack of lamb with rosemary and thyme, herbed haricots verts, roasted oysters, grilled leeks and garlic on toast, an endive and walnut salad, and a Bûche de Noël almost too beautiful to eat.

Coupled with the excitement of a visit from Père Noël, and it'd been a chore to bustle Claire, Tristian, and Marianne off to bed.

She glanced up as the door open, a smile tugging at her lips when Bill slipped inside and shut the door softly behind him.

"So," he said, pulling the leather hair tie out and shaking the red tresses out, "our eldest princess slipped out of her bed while I was in the kitchen."

"Ah bon?" As he slid under the covers with her, she set her book to the side and leaned over to run her fingers through his now-loose hair. "And where might she 'ave gone?"

"Found her curled up in your papa's easy chair in the front family room. Looks like she decided to wait up for Father Christmas." He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "Don't think she'd been down their long. Your sister was canoodling in front of the fireplace and barely even noticed her."

Fleur laughed softly and curled into Bill's side, hooking one leg over his. "She ees very wrapped up in Neil. I am not surprised."

Her husband pressed a kiss to her temple, inhaling the sweet lavender scent of her shampoo. "I wouldn't mind being wrapped up in you right now..."

"Oh?" She arched a blonde brow in question and pulled back to meet his amused blue eyes. "And where ees the seduction, mon chéri?"

"How long have we been married, woman? This is seduction."


"Finally alone," Neil murmured in a low voice, his lips brushing Gabrielle's ear as he splayed a warm hand over her stomach. His other hand shifted towards the hem of her red wrap dress, fingertips dancing over the smooth skin just hidden by fabric. "Children are abed... your parents are abed..."

"We are not in the bed," Gabrielle reminded him teasingly, tipping her head back to look at him. "And Claire was asleep in five minutes. Eet ees not as eef she would 'ave noticed if we were... misbe'aving, I think."

He gasped in mock affront. "Mademoiselle, are you suggesting we misbehave in front of your most-impressionable niece? You shameless thing, you."

"Mmm, but you like it when I am shameless, non?" She shifted on the sofa and pushed closer to him, allowing her to brush soft, open kisses along his stubbled jaw.

Neil turned his head to the left and pressed his lips against hers, momentarily silencing them both. When he broke the kiss, he only pulled back enough to brush his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss. "That was never in question, love. My Frenchwoman might need her head examined, acting shameless for a stodgy old barrister, but I'm not complaining."

"Oh, tais-toi," she muttered, crinkling her nose at him. "You are knowing I 'ave only eyes for a stodgy old barrister, and I am not needing to examine my 'ead."

"If you say so, love. We'll see how you feel after Christmas dinner with my family tomorrow night. Between Lola's cursing and Rowan's three spawn running wild on Christmas biscuits and presents, you might have the urge to ditch me and run off with some young, virile male model."

Gabrielle snorted. "Mon coeur, I am thinking you are the one to 'ave your 'ead examined, eef you are thinking that."

"Just voicing the possibility."

"Arrêtez." She pressed her lips to his softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. "You are the only one, Neil. Always."


It was a different experience, spending Christmas Eve with a family. Since his grandparents had passed, the majority of Julian's holidays had been spent at home or at the office. Since the twins had arrived, though, that long-standing tradition had been turned on its head.

This was his first invitation to the Clearwater's home for Christmas Eve, though, and he suspected it had less to do with Maxwell and Gertrude wanting him to join the merriment, and more Penelope being determined the children -- both now old enough to grasp the full extent of Christmas and presents -- would have both parents present for all major events.

He didn't overly mind. Gertrude still regarded him with suspicion, but Maxwell had warmed up to him. And he was Ethan's gainful employer -- he suspected that had helped a bit.

Settled back against the settee, a glass of wine in his hand, he watched Carter and Cassie wreak havoc on the discarded wrapping paper. Their shrieks of delight mingled with the giggles from the newest member of the Clearwater family; Georgiana, still a baby, eyes wide as her older cousins danced around the chaos.

His eyes met Penelope's across the room, where she stood at the sidebar, casually refilling her glass. One brow arched in question. She discreetly nodded in her mother's direction, crinkled her nose, and brought her glass to her lips and took a deep sip.

Julian's lips twitched.

A slight tug on his trousers caught his attention, his gaze flickering down to the tiny girl in front of him. Fully pleased she had his attention, Cassandra wasted no time in climbing into her father's lap, ignoring the glass of malbec as she settled in her favorite spot.

She held up a glittery red bow pulled from the packages. "Shiny," she said with a toothy grin, nodding. Reaching up, she placed it atop his head, patting it firmly three times to ensure it stayed in place. "Papa shiny."

"Very shiny, Cassina," he said as she snuggled against him, content. He dropped a kiss atop her soft, dark hair. "Thank you."


"Grem, sweets, I adore you more than anything else on this earth, but I am begging you. Please please please, try and sleep."

Katie's pleas fell on deaf ears as the infant in her arms continued to scream. The tiny tuft of blonde hair stood straight up atop his head, and his cheeks were bright red with displeasure. He'd been crying so long his voice was beginning to go hoarse; she only hoped he wouldn't scream himself sick.

One benefit to having a new baby, she'd noted, was that international family members were now obligated to come to her. She'd flat out refused to trek across the Atlantic with Stewart and Sean to visit her mother and brother. There were more Bells still in England than America; the rest of the family didn't have to worry about Portkeying with a baby.

She shuddered to think of that nightmare.

The door cracked open, and Stewart slipped inside; immediately wincing as the shrill cries pierced his ears. "Grem still at it?"

"Clearly." Katie bounced him up and down on her hip, rubbing his back in soothing circles. Still nothing.

Stewart reached out and took the baby from her, settling him in his arms. "Here, I'll take him. You go downstairs and visit with your brothers."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. See, lookie here." Once settled in Stewart's grasp, Sean's cries -- while not ceasing completely -- did lower in volume and frequency. "He wants a bit of male bonding time with Daddy."

"Then he can have all he wants this Christmas." Katie went up on tiptoes and brushed a quick kiss to her husband's lips, another to her baby's forehead. "Hopefully he'll cry himself to sleep soon."

"I'm sure he will. And then I'll be looking for a bit of bonding time with Mummy later on tonight." Stewart waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Katie snorted. "We'll see, Daddy. Work your magic on Grem, and we'll see."


Noah was snoring.

Unlike her husband's snores, which sounded more of the roaring lion variety (not that he'd ever admit it), her son's snores were adorable. Soft, little hiccups of breath interspersed with giggles and kicks. He was having a happy dream -- a happy Christmas dream, she hoped.

She let her fingers run gently through his dark hair as she sat next to him, looking down at the tiny person who'd completely changed her life. Lisa had never thought of herself as particularly maternal -- that prize had always gone to Mandy, who'd mothered their flock of Ravenclaws since they first set foot on the Hogwarts Express. But that had all changed the moment the Healer set Noah in her arms.

He was the spitting image of his Da. She loved that.

"Someone's tuckered out," Ernie commented as he stepped into the living room, two flutes of champagne in his hand.

"Maybe because someone let him eat three sugar biscuits and ride the dog through your parents' living room," she commented, lips twitching as her gaze flickered from her son to her husband.

"I know, isn't my Da a terrible influence?" He handed her a champagne flute, then reached down to help her to her feet. "A toast is in order, I think."

"Oh?" She glanced down to make sure she hadn't disturbed Noah. Other than a momentary pause in his snores as he shifted, tightening his grasp on Blue, he didn't wake. "And what are we toasting to?"

"To you," he said. His arm snaked around her waist to pull her against him. "To your new album. To us. To another Christmas together. And, you know, to another year keeping the kid alive and in relatively good health."

Lisa grinned and tapped her flute against his. "I'll drink to that."


Natalie downed another shot of vodka, gasping as the clear liquid burned its way down her throat. Another Christmas Eve, another night at a dingy pub in Hackney. Tomorrow morning, she'd down a Hangover Potion and dutifully make her way to her parents' house to make merry with her entire rowdy family -- all four brothers, their wives, and assorted spawn.

Tonight, she was looking for a different sort of play.

The buxom brunette on her right had her hand on her thigh, tracing soft circles higher and higher across the tight denim. Natalie wasn't entirely sure of her name -- Casey, maybe, or it might have been Clara -- but she was pretty and coming onto her.

Leaning in, Natalie pressed her lips to the other woman's. Most of the time, she preferred the rough hands and hard bodies that came with fucking men, but sometimes, the soft touch and enticing curves of a woman beckoned -- times like tonight.

Clara -- yep, definitely Clara -- moved her hand even higher and let it settle on the heated juncture between Natalie's thighs. "I don't want to go home alone tonight," she whispered against Natalie's lips, nibbling on the lower one slightly.

Sliding a hand around the other woman, Natalie drew her closer until the entire line of their thighs were pressing against one another. In the darkened corner booth, they were sheltered from the few patrons the shitty bar currently served, so Natalie didn't feel any shame -- not that she would have anyway -- in reaching up to cup a full breast.

"You wanna fuck?"

Clara whimpered in pleasure. "Yes."

Natalie smiled. "Then what are we waiting for?"


She was burning the midnight candle. Again.

It'd been something she'd sworn not to do -- much -- after she'd left Witch Weekly. But it was all too easy to fall back into bad habits, especially when those people who had sometimes kept her from doing so were less and less to be found.

Working on Christmas Eve. It was a sad state of affairs.

Her parents had gone back to Mumbai for an extended holiday, something they'd been doing more and more frequently since her father had retired from the Ministry earlier in the year. It wouldn't have surprised her one bit if they decided to move back home, especially since their other daughter had moved back to America.

Padma's dark gaze flickered to the still photograph -- a Muggle photograph -- sitting atop a newly-delivered letter. Her twin was beaming, an expression Padma hadn't seen on her face in a long time, in the arms of a tall, dark-haired man she now knew to be Michael.

The Christmas tree in the background was enormous; bigger than any she'd ever seen at Hogwarts, and the New York City skyline framed the shot perfectly. The pair looked ridiculously happy and in love, and Padma smiled. It was time her restless little sister found what she'd been looking for.

It didn't quite sting, losing her twin to someone else. But it did highlight the loneliness in her own life.

Case in point: working on Christmas Eve.

"I don't celebrate Christmas, Laura," she'd told her assistant, when the woman had voiced those exact same words in disbelief. "Just another day at the office, but you are not to come back to work until after New Year's."

Laura had stared at her for a good minute or so before shaking her head. She didn't argue, though -- they'd had the talk countless times over the past seven years they'd worked together, and Padma always came out on top.

Besides, there were benefits to working on holidays. The first and foremost of which was that no one stopped by the office. Padma could work uninterrupted on her latest project, a revitalization of an old mews property in Notting Hill.

Perhaps if she finished early, she'd allow herself to sleep in on Christmas Day. Yes, that would be lovely.


It was amazing how much could change in a year.

Last Christmas Eve, she'd been in France. Cautiously optimistic after her chance run-in with Lysander, yet still wary that after all they'd been through, they'd repeat the same dance and it would end with the same results: alone with a broken heart.

After all, it'd happened before. Several times. She was afraid of hope -- it was dangerous and never ended well for her.

And now, a year later on Christmas Eve, she was married.

Her skin was still sun-kissed from a week's honeymoon in the Maldives -- a perfect week, as far as she was concerned. It was strange, being so happy. It wasn't as if she hadn't known happiness, but it had been quite a while since it had been a regular occurrence.

"So, wife," a voice said from behind her, interrupting her thoughts, "I've been a very good boy this year. Mightn't there be a special present for me this Christmas Eve?"

"But of course, husband. You'll find a lovely pair of wool socks wrapped beneath the tree," she replied dryly, tossing him an amused smirk over her shoulder. "It's in the silver wrapping, if you're so inclined to open that package this evening."

Coming up behind her, Lysander wrapped his arms around her waist, hands toying with the sash of her silk dressing gown. "I can think of some other present I'd like to unwrap tonight..."

"Oh?" Pansy leaned back against him, her head resting on his shoulder. "I'm not allowing any more hints tonight, Lysander. You'll just have to wait until the morning."

"But this one's perfect for tonight. The most lovely gift, all tied up with a pretty red bow that Slowly, he tugged the knot free and let her gown part, exposing smooth skin to his wandering hands. "And would you look at that? It seems I've been naughty and unwrapped it already."

Pansy sighed, lips twitching when his lips fell to her neck. "Well then, let's see just how naughty you can be this Christmas Eve."


Madeline had long been put to bed, tired out by the excitement that was Christmas Eve with the Montgomery family. As the first grandchild, it was quite the understatement to say that the presents had been freely forthcoming -- their little princess was, safe to say, spoiled rotten.

Stephen wasn't particularly looking forward to dinner with his family to Christmas day. But in the year and a half since Maddy's birth, his mother had made a bit more effort to be cordial. And his parents were kind and giving when it came to his daughter.

His relationship with them would always be cool at the best. But they were trying in regards to his daughter. It was something, at least.

"Alright big boy, which one should I open tonight?" Cassie, lounging on the rug in front of the Christmas tree, fixed him with an impish smile. "Anything particularly shiny?"

"Quit fishing for hints, woman, and pick one," he replied with mock sternness, belying that facade with a wink.

She crinkled her nose at him. "Fine, I choose... this one." She pulled a small, rectangular package out from beneath the tree. It didn't take long to unwrap; once the paper was off, the box was charmed to open. No muss, no fuss, no Spell-o-Tape.

Reaching into the tissue paper, she pulled out a pair of rattling instruments. "Stephen, you know I don't usually question your tastes, but... what is this?"

"Maracas." He grinned at the bewilderment on her face. "Instrument from Latin America."

"Are you saying I should take up music now, on top of my motherly and career duties?"

He snickered. "Nope. I'm saying that when the season's done, and your work project is over in May, you and I are dumping the little miss with your parents and spending a week in Cabo San Lucas."

Her expression changed from confusion to delight. "Really?"

"Just you, me, the sea, and little to no clothes. A little trip to paradise."

Cassie launched herself from her spot on the floor into his arms, elbow colliding with his stomach. He wheezed as she seized his face in her hands, planting a solid kiss on his lips despite knocking the wind from him. Pulling back, her blue eyes were bright with happiness. "Sounds like the perfect trip, husband. You did well this year."

"I know."

Kate: rpg: Cassandra (CO)mugglechump on December 23rd, 2013 06:49 am (UTC)
Aw, look at them all. So happy. Never suspecting the next round of babies are nearly upon them. :D
Leighleigh_adams on December 26th, 2013 04:44 am (UTC)
There are some notable exceptions to this "baby" rule -- namely, everyone not named Stephen and Pansy. ;D

But I'm glad you liked it. *SMOOSH*