nighty | happy christmas

Biting her bottom lip in witchy anticipation, Charlotte peaked over the mountains and valleys of down pillows, douvets, and haphazard, slumbering limbs. Her fingers crept, spider-like and pretty, toward the presumably hungover man beside her. Crawling up his side, they smoothed themselves across his chest, flat palm to warm flesh. "Happy Christmas," she murmured, one eye visible under the pillows and hair and tangles of Charlotte-and-Felix.

Nestling more properly into his side, she ruined the dove-colored summits in one sweep. The feather-stuffed blanket conformed to her body, forming a cloud of sorts as she wrapped an arm across the man with whom she shared her bed. "I'm still full from dinner last night," she murmured, humored. "But I could use some breakfast..."

Kissing the tender spot below his neck, Charlotte grinned. "Are you hungry?" She whispered at his ear, and watched carefully for signs of wakefulness. She'd already reached for the wand on her bedside some moments ago-- an instinct, however luxuriously indolent she happened to be in the mornings-- and silently summoned an accessory from her wardrobe. The fluffy, brilliantly hued hat was expensive, just like everything else in Charlotte's life, and it was with great care that she pulled from the air above her and tugged it onto Felix's head. "But no treats unless you're wearing this," she made clear, sitting up a bit so as to hover over him, pin him down like a lion's prey. She smiled from overhead, admiring his unbearably handsome facade under the St. Nick cap.

"Mmm, I'll be right back." As if she'd been haunted by a sudden stroke of genius, she slipped off of him as easily as she had slipped on, pausing only to peck his nose before she climbed out of bed. She shuffled away in her black lingerie, swathed herself in a fluffy bathrobe, and reappeared several minutes later under the guise of the same robe, but this time with a hat not unlike the one with which she'd adorned Felix. Undoing the sash, she slipped her arms from its warmth, and picked up a rosy, satin bag she'd left on an unoccupied, decorative chair.

Felix lay, peacefully at ease with life, his chest gently heaving with each deep breath of sleep he took in and let out. He was dreaming of candy canes, eggnog, mulled wine and the ferrocious feast they had devoured the night before. Being gently prodded out of his Santa's elf-dominated dream by the gentle kisses of the lovely woman beside him was something he could just about deal with now. His head hurt from the amount of alcohol consumed the night before, and though they had eaten a hearty feast, he still found that his stomach was gurgling rather irrationally.

"Are you hungry?"

The answer was yes, though he wasn't entirely sure whether he would be able to stomach anything in his fragile state. He stretched his toes out, allowing them to poke through the bottom of the duvet, and gave the kind of groan that only comes with that first stretch of the day.

"But no treats unless you're wearing this,"

He felt something being pulled haphazardly over his ears, before Charlotte decided to get out of the bed. Not wanting to seem too intrigued, Felix waited until she was out of the room before blindly patting his head. Fluff. More fluff. And a fluffier bit of fluff. The horror! She had put a Santa hat on her head!

He sat up abruptly, forgetting about his hangover for a moment, and looking quite the picture wrapped in a duvet and wearing a Santa hat. He blinked as she made her way back into the room with a flippant kind of sass that only Charlotte knew how to wear. Dropping her bathrobe made Felix's eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. "Mrs Claus?" he asked almost cautiously, like a cat seeing a bowl of milk instead of the usual water and wondering what was out of place. His voice still had the thick sound of sleep in it, the croak being caused by dehydration. "For me?" It was like Christmas had come right on time.

Charlotte resisted the urge to tickle toes or pucker her lips into a pout. She was on a mission. No sooner had she donned Felix in his required garb-- courtesy of the no shirt, no shoes, no service school of thought, but without shirts or shoes-- than she'd disappeared to manage her own wardrobe change.

Charlotte's father would have fainted at the sight of his little girl in the barely-there satin and sorry excuse for a top. It was underthings she wore. Oh, and a hat to match her bed buddy's.

"Mrs. Claus?"

She grinned wickedly, and pulled at the fluffy white pompom at the end of her cap. "Charlotte Claus," she corrected him. Last she checked, she was no Mrs. She lugged the bag to the edge of the bed, and let it spill over the duvet, which seemed quite busy mummifying her lover. "But, yes, for you." She crawled behind it and prodded it open a little more readily. Kicking off the boots she'd only just slipped into, she lifted his first gift with all the poise of muggle game-show host. It was a personalized twelve-month calendar with photos of the pair of them (she'd resisted the urge to print naughty photos of herself, lest Lia give her a very long lecture about tabloid press and marriage prospects) and all of the important dates Felix needed to remember-- family birthdays, muggle and wizarding holidays, anniversaries

 Charlotte crawled a little closer, dropping it into his lap and leaning forward to brush his lips. "Just the stocking stuffer," she murmured against his mouth. "You want to know what else is in my magic bag?" And with that, she tugged at the top of his fluffy hat, pulling it down over his eyes.

She was teasing him something rotten - and he loved it. He made himself more comfortable, putting his hands behind his head and sighing with ecstasy. This was the life. A stunner for a girlfriend who wanted to shower him with gifts and more at Christmas? That was Felix's idea of a good life.

"Charlotte Claus,"

"Ahh," Felix mused, "Sorry Charlotte Claus." He grinned as she delved into the bag with the grace of a fairy and pulled a flat, square present from the depths. He flexed his fingers, readying them for the task ahead - the task of unwrapping his presents, the best (and most expensive) of which being Charlotte Claus herself. She moved forward and her lips brushed his and the most tantalizing way. He licked his lips as she pulled away, savouring the flavour of hers.

"You want to know what else is in my magic bag?"

Her lips buzzed against his and he grinned against them. "I'd rather know what was underneath your magic slip," he mused as she pulled the hat down over his eyes. Throwing the unopened present to one side, Felix's hands snaked around Charlotte's waist and he pulled her down on top of him. "I don't need my eyes to be able to focus on what I want for Christmas the most." His lips found hers once more as though they were pulled together by a magnetic force. "Charlotte Claus..." he kissed her nose. "My Charlotte Claus..." he kissed the corner of her mouth before reaching up to pull the hat away from his eyes.

Suddenly his expression became more serious. "Or maybe Charlotte Marren? You'd suit having my name after yours."

Charlotte tilted her head to the side, grinning a self-pleased little grin as he corrected himself. It was good to wear the trousers in her own house. (Alright, garters. In her own penthouse. But those were only minor details.) "Mmhmm," she managed between kisses, pulling back to look vaguely, lazily shocked as Felix let the gift fly away unopened.

The next few courses seemed suddenly unimportant.

"Your Charlotte Claus wants a brand new-- what?"

She eyed him as if he were choking on gingerbread. Her grin had faded, come again, and faded once more into an oblivious expression that might have been charmed there by an evil cretin. She was as lost as a puppy. "Are you proposing to me, Mr. Marren?" She asked when she found her voice again, her breath. Her lungs stung with the sharp intake of oxygen. She pressed her nose back to him, blue eyes bearing into his. "I think you've forgotten your wits. I do have a bit of a record..." She grinned, a mere centimeter from his mouth, and pulled a pair of bells out of seemingly nowhere. She was grateful for their whimsical little echo. "Let's not joke on Christmas. Santa would be most displeased."

The thought of marrying him... of marrying anyone... but especially of marrying Felix... her heart jumped into her throat, and suddenly Charlotte felt like a child again, being caught with cigarette in hand by an overbearing, lush young man with a Prefect badge. She felt trapped.

"Alright, I'll spoil it for you so you can move on to my slip," she sighed. "I got you this wonderful telescope. Instead of seeing stars, when you adjust it, you'll see little pictures of me. They turn and change into more pictures of me." Wasn't that fantastic? "And no one will ever know you aren't working..." She ran her hands down the warmth of his chest and taut tummy.

"Are you proposing to me, Mr. Marren?"

Felix blinked. Was he? "Uh..." He licked his lips nervously. He'd always been under the impression that a proposal was 'Will you marry me', and he had merely stated that she would suit having his name after hers. The room suddenly got extremely hot, and he scrabbled madly at his neck, searching for a collar that he could pull at; it seemed like one of those situations. Of course, all he found was bare neck and chest.

"Let's not joke on Christmas. Santa would be most displeased."

He blinked again, and suddenly his body cooled down. As Charlotte brushed off what she thought was a proposal of marriage, it cooled down even more, until goosebumps started to rise on his arms and chest. He frowned. Was she ignoring his proposal? Sure, he hadn't known it was a proposal, and he was scared shitless at the thought of proposing, but the fact that she was acting as though nothing had happened pissed him off. Did she not think he was good enough for her?

"Alright, I'll spoil it for you so you can move on to my slip,"

Though frowning, his eyes wandered down to her scant bedclothes as though it was a natural instinct. It would be easy, oh-so-easy, to just ignore the last minute, quickly rip open his presents, and then rip off her slip even quicker. His eyes went back up to her face. No. He was insulted, stung by her quick dismissal of the potential proposal.  He didn't want to propose. Oh no. But now that he knew she didn't want him to propose, he wanted to propose. Just to prove a point.

He felt like standing up in a strop, yelling at her that there were plenty of women who would jump at the chance for him to propose to them - but who was he kidding? He was an overgrown kid with a particular affinity for fun on trains, and with an older brother who liked to bully him with embarassing pictures from their past. Plus, he loved his mum's cooking far too much.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, unsure of what to say.

"I got you this wonderful telescope. Instead of seeing stars, when you adjust it, you'll see little pictures of me. They turn and change into more pictures of me."

His attention was piqued all of a sudden. He sat up a little straighter, cocking his head to one side in the way that an animal would, in order to hear better. "A telescope?" he asked, the curiosity chiming in his voice. Her hands were suddenly on his chest as she stated that he could look at photos of her at work without looking like a pervert. On more than one occasion, Felix had been caught by Dante looking at a photo of Charlotte. On one occasion, he was caught kissing a photo of Charlotte. Not one of his most spectacular moments in life.

He shuddered slightly under her touch, and in a moment he had completely forgotten about the failed attempt at the almost-had-been-pretendy-proposal. "Can I see it?" he asked, his speech broken slightly due to the feel of Charlotte's hands running down his body.

Felix stammered under her interrogation, Charlotte St. James couldn't decide for the life of her whether she was pleased, relieved, or annoyed. Was this a good sign? Was she going to get her way without argument? Or did it mean she'd scared Felix away for life? Was he not willing to fight for her? Was he giving up so soon? What did she really want? Deep down, that pang in her heart wasn't simply fright, she knew. Charlotte wanted Felix as much as Felix wanted Charlotte, but she was sure she'd make a terrible wife. Wives were so... boring. So paranoid. And why shouldn't they be? Once the kids started coming, the husband's eyes began to wander. Or else his devotion doubled, and the woman was stuck for life with a heap of needy baby birds and an overzealous lover.

She waited, in the privacy of her mind, for him to say something other than a single, unintelligible syllable. But he seemed at loss for her casual dismissal, and instead grasped at Charlotte's swift change of topic.

"A telescope," she echoed, reassuring him in a breathy, naughty voice. Careful not to let him out of her clutches, she leaned round to grab the bag, and sifted out the gift. One hand remained on her prey, Mr. Felix Marren. She handed him the gift, tilting her head like a puppy waiting for a treat. "Isn't it much more interesting than marriage?" She couldn't help herself; she had to bring up the very thing she was attempting to escape, lest she never know what he'd been murmuring a moment ago. Charlotte Marren...

Charlotte assured him that yes, he had heard her correctly - she was presenting him with a telescope. Felix had received from others only a few telescopes in his lifetime. His first - a muggle telescope from his parents. Such a primitive object, considering he was now able to access those that belonged in the wizarding world. His second came in the form of a small pocket-sized telescope, a seventeenth birthday present from his brother, that showed naughty pictures of pretty ladies under the guise of admiring the stars. His third was a congratulatory gift for getting the position of Head Astronomer at the Ministry, and it had been from Akiva. It was a beautiful telescope, black with a charming blue pattern engraved into it, and the Ravenclaw badge on the top. His gift to her of course, had been less-than-impressive - but she had always assured him that the book-ends were very thoughtful, and whenever he went round to her house they were always pride of place on the book shelf.

Sometimes he wondered whether it was one of those gifts that was expertly stored in an attic collecting dust until the gift-giver was coming over, then frantically removed from storage and placed in a position that would make it obviously noticable. Then he remembered that one said "Book", the other said "End", and he realised that clearly this would be the best present he could have ever given to the librarian.

Now, he was being presented with his fourth, and probably the most precious of all. Because this telescope would mean he would always have Charlotte to hand, figuratively speaking of course. The only way this would get any better, is if he was able to carry the real thing around with him all the time. Charlotte took the telescope out of the sack and passed it over to him. He grinned like a small child as he took it from her, admiring the casing. It looked expensive. The pewter colour of the case contrasted with the blood-red ring around the lens and around the eye-cap. He turned it this way and that, analysing it from all angles. Finally, he lifted it up and held it to his right eye.

"Isn't it much more interesting than marriage?"

"I can see your jubblies!"

Charlotte let out a huffy, close-lipped breath, rolling her eyes-- but there was still a smile there. She was pleased with Felix's charming, little boy reaction to the gift. She hoped he'd keep it to himself, but... well, she had nothing to be ashamed of, did she? She was made for flaunting. Merlin had insured it. "Yes, well, my jubblies are the result of a very strict regimen and good genes," she announced. "Which means it's time for a shower."

Tossing her head in the direction of the bathroom, she meant to silently beckon him with her.

As Charlotte talked about her strict regime, Felix's eyes wandered from the telescope held up to his face, down her attire. She made the concept of Santa Claus look sexy. Felix had no doubt that if she'd been wearing a fake fat tummy, heavy-duty black boots and a white beard, he would still want to do bad things to her. As it was, she was the same stunning Charlotte, but in skimpy negligee and bearing gifts. What more could Felix want?

"Which means it's time for a shower."

He watched in awe as Charlotte removed herself nimbly from his side and enticed Felix with one bewitching look. He didn't need telling twice. He jumped up faster than you could say McGonagall's Monacle and followed Charlotte into the bathroom like the lost, lovesick puppy he was.  "I promise I've been a good boy this year, Charlotte Claus." He closed the door behind him, a glazed, gluttonous expression across his features.