Christmas Cookies

Christmas Eve, mid-afternoon in Chicago:

BZZZZZTT!

"Shoot! My hands are full. Shan, can you grab that batch from the oven?"

Silence.

"Shan?" Fumbling and cursing ensues as Kitty tries as gently and quickly as possible to slide the paper-thin sugar cookies off onto the wire cooling rack on her crowded counter.

The chime on the electric oven continues to beep, the digital display on the oven glaring and flashing an angry red. Kitty tosses the still-hot cookie sheet onto the tiny butcher block table in the center of the kitchen, wiping her slender fingers on her flour-coated apron, satisfied at the "clank" of aluminum striking wood. "Shit," she hisses. "I'll get it out, then." Too quickly she pulls open the oven door, edging back slightly as the waves of heat threaten to singe her eyebrows, and the rush of hot air blows her feathery bangs off of her forehead. "That's a little too close for comfort," she mutters, eyeing the light brown edges of the cookies, grateful that the bottoms don't appear to be burnt.

Kitty begins shuffling the cookies a bit with the spatula, knocking them loose from the sheet. From down the hall, she hears a faint chuckle and some words murmured in Vietnamese before the phone's clicked back into its stand. Light, quick footsteps make their way down the hall as Shan pauses at the doorway. "Kitty? Did you call me? What do you need?"

"Just another pair of hands, before I singe, slice or bludgeon one more of my fingers. This was so much easier when my mom used to do it, and I just handed her the spatula or did the sprinkles."

"I seem to recall a certain brown-eyed computer genius and Cubs fan grinning impishly at me, explaining 'We're college-educated women and capable adults. They're just Christmas cookies. This'll be a snap, just watch.' " And that was, what, about four pounds of butter, a dozen eggs, and a whole sack of flour ago?" Shan extends her forearm and flexes her wrist up with a flourish, checking her slim gold watch. "When are we going to warch the DVD?"

"Soon, I promise. It's not like I meant to take your kitchen hostage and completely ransack it. I just want to get the worst of this done by tomorrow, before I head back to Westchester. My flight leaves at eight, so I'll have to be up at the crack of dawn to check in."
"Why can't you just take me up on my offer to stay here and have dinner with me, Leong and Nga?"

"I promised Ray I would come." Kitty's back is turned as she uses a reindeer-shaped cutter to punch out shapes of white dough, deftly flipping them onto a clean baking sheet.

"We should have bought that parchment paper. This would go faster if we didn't have to keep scrubbing the sheets between batches."

"You mean after the burnt batches. Just do what I do and scrape off the blackened crumbs and the melted sprinkles with the spatula."

"I'd like to keep what fingers that I have, please. Last time I took that advice of yours, the sprinkles were the same temperature and consistency of molten lava." Shan handed Kitty the miniature tree-shaped cutter, suggesting "Let's make more stained-glass window cookies." Kitty groans, but takes the proffered cutter and begins punching out holes in the centers of the fresh reindeers.

"Do you want to crush the candies or shall I?"

"Let me. I could stand to hit something right about now!" Shan's mouth quirked up at the corner as she handed Kitty the rolling pin.
"Why do you say that? Look at this, it's fun. Much better than being out on the streets today with all of the maniacs doing their last-minute shopping." Shan pours unwrapped hard candies into a Ziploc freezer bag and seals it, handing it to Kitty before clearing a space on the cluttered butcher block table. "These are cool enough to pack up. I'll move the rest, and you can let 'er rip."

"I guess it's fun," Kitty muttered. "At least, it's supposed to be." TWHACK! CHOKK! WHACK! The rolling pin pounded against the bag of candy, pulverizing it as Kitty checked the bag to make sure there were no large air pockets to make it explode, then continued her assault.

"Whoa," Shan marvels, half-serious. "I think I'm afraid of you now."
"Could be worse," Kitty reminds her. "Could be Peter standing here holding the rolling pin."

"Or Logan."

"Or Bishop."

"Or Cain."

"Or Santo.

"Or Gambit. He could charge the thing by mistake and send it flying across the room."

"Okay. You win that one." Kitty loved one-upmanship.

"Seriously, though...the kids and I have plenty of room for one more. We have plenty of food. I'm making that rice that you liked so much last week. I'm using it to stuff the roast duck."

"Mmmmmm," Kitty sighs. "That sounds great. Ray would kill me, though. I don't have the heart to leave her at the school at Scott and Emma's mercy for the holiday, she needs me for moral support."

"Or she needs you to unwrap her hands from Emma's throat if things get carried away..."

"No kidding. I don't envy her having that witch for a stepmom."

"No. But I do envy her at least having something resembling 'parents' to spend the holiday with. For my brother and sister, I'm it." Kitty paused in opening the Ziploc bag to dump the crushed candy into a bowl.

"That's true, isn't it? I'd forgotten about that, you lost your folks before you even came here. Weren't there any other relatives that could have taken you in?"

"Just my uncle Nguyen. Thank God for Logan pulling me out of his reach when he did." Shan shuddered. "I couldn't live with myself if he got his hands on Leong and Nga."

"They have you," Kitty murmured, placing emphasis on the last word. "You were their guardian back when you were still young enough to need one yourself."

"The Professor helped a lot." Shan began rolling out more dough, the rolling pin none the worse for wear. "With a lot of things. No one could replace my mother and father. I still miss them, and it still hurts around holidays like this, sometimes..." Shan pauses to scratch behind her ear, pulling a stray lock of hair behind it, "...but I have family, in a way, at the school. Samuel and Roberto are like the brothers I wish I had." Neither girl utters the thought that lays there unspoken: Her twin, Tranh, followed her uncle's path to ruin.
"I'm sorry. I'm being a total downer. Let's talk about something else. Better yet...let's take a breather!" Kitty untangles the ties of the apron from her hair and undoes the sash, flinging it aside. She grabs Shan's hand and pulls her away from the tidy row of freshly cut Santas on the sheet.

"KITTY! The oven's not even turned off..."

"Done," Kitty declares, hitting the "Clear" switch on the range top. "There's nothing in there right now. The dough will keep. I need my soap fix."

"I can't believe you watch those things."

"I can't believe you don't. Besides, I'm a genius," Kitty trills, "I can afford to let a few brain cells leak out from time to time. I need some time in front of the idiot box." Shan guffaws.

"Listen to you! Brain cells to spare, indeed. Just remember it wasn't my bright idea to make all these batches of Christmas cookies as gifts." Kitty groans and ducks her head as she rubs the bridge of her nose. Sighing, she picks up the remote from the arm of Shan's easy chair and clicks it on.

"'Days' should be on by now."

"It's so silly."

"Austin and Carrie are back in Salem. So's Frankie. I used to love Frankie."

"He looks like a kid. I used to like John, but he's getting a little long in the tooth."

"I dunno. I think older men are kinda handsome." Kitty finds her channel and flops on the couch, leaning her head back against the arm to roll her head from side to side. Shan hears her joints pop. "Oooo. That didn't sound good. Got a crick?"

"Uh-huh."

"Want me to rub it out?" Shan glances at Kitty's eyes, clenched shut with a slight furrow over her brow.

"You don't have to do that."

"I know that. But would it help?"

Kitty tries to shape her mouth into a denial, then nixes it. "Yeah. It would help a lot." Shan was already up from her chair and standing behind Kitty before she could catch the look of uncertainty that flitted across her friend's features.

It's just a massage, Kitty reasons. She rights herself rests her bare soles on the carpet, rubbing her neck again as she does. A small "mmmmph" escapes her lips.

"I'm so glad Stevie taught us how to do this back when she did."

"I need to visit her one of these days."

"Kitty? Do you ever miss dancing?"

"I still go out dancing sometimes."

"I know, but I mean the kind that you used to like. Ballet and modern dance. Your classes at Stevie's school."

"No time. Between working at 'Belles most nights and weekends, and practically living at the library when I'm not in class, it's just not a priority any more."

Shan makes a thoughtful noise. "I remember when it was all you thought about. Well, that and your computer programs." Kitty chuckles, then releases a tiny groan of relief as Shan works the knots from her trapezius.

"Those were the days. When did you get so good at massage?"

"After I quit the active roster. I had the time to take some classes in reiki and yoga, and a few other things that don't involve suiting up in unstable molecules."

"Admit it; the uniform makes you feel pretty. Well, it makes me feel pretty, anyway."

"You certainly had enough of them, back in the day."

"Don't remind me. Kurt showed me a picture taken back when I was about thirteen, right after I first enrolled. I made myself a uniform."

"Was it cool?"

"Oh, hell no!" Shan explodes into giggles. "Not in the least. We're talking zero fashion sense. Also remember that it was the early eighties. I had leg warmers in every color of the rainbow! Even rainbow-striped ones! I picked out this enormous mask, reminiscent of Wolverine's old one, with the huge points on it. I also threw on my old disco shorts, leotards, and a pair of rollerskates!"

"Pray forgive me, Kitty...but why...?"

"I know, don't say it. In hindsight, I don't know what I would have done with the skates during combat. Kurt's never let me live it down."

"I can see why!"

"Hey, don't diss the skates! Allison used to have 'em with her original uniform, too!"

"Magma didn't have skates," Shan argues.

"No, no...Blaire. Dazzler. Not Amara." Shan lightly smacks her forehead.

"Duh. Right, right." Shan continues knuckling Kitty's back as she leans forward a bit to allow her to reach more knots. "Kitty?"

"Yeah?"

"If it's any consolation, I bet your skates were cooler than Allison's."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence." Kitty's smirk drops slightly. "She did have killer hair, though."

"Who? Allison?" Shan ponders this. "I guess. If you like that wholesome, Farrah Fawcett, feathery look."

"I did, back then. Ray always calls me 'Curly.' I always hated my hair."

Shan rakes her fingers through the glossy brown ripples, sighing. "I like it. I always kind of did. Mine doesn't curl at all." Kitty leans back and looks up at Shan askance.

"Hmp. I guess not, huh? Your hair really doesn't curl. It's so shiny, though. Suits you," she murmurs.

"It does now. Stevie cut it during my first month at school. Back when you were...wait a minute...in space?"

"Yup."

"It was weird that night, seeing this tiny little slip of a girl, younger than me ..."

"I was Illyana's age," Kitty interrupts. "Well...her Limbo-advanced age."

"Right. You were so serious back then."

"I was a brat."

"We were on your turf. You were used to being the only kid."
"I could have treated all of you better, though. Dani and Sam read me the riot act about giving them such a hard time, calling them 'X-Babies,' and generally acting like someone pissed in my coffee."

"Wellllll..."

"You don't have to agree with me!"

"No. I don't. Still tempting, though."

"THANKS!" Shan ruffles Kitty's ponytail with a warm smile and walks around the couch to plop herself next to her. "Kitty?"

"Yeah?"

"You were kind of a brat...but you were a cute brat."

Silence.

Shan's eyes flit sideways, peeking to see Kitty's reaction. Kitty fights to watch the screen before her, pretending that Austin's argument with Carrie was more compelling than what's taking place at the present moment.

It becomes a losing battle.

"Well, you were."

More silence, followed by a flush of color creeping up into Kitty's cheeks as she picks at her fingernail.

"No I wasn't. Cute, I mean."

"Were too."

"Was not. I was too skinny. I had no breasts to speak of. I had mouse-brown hair that was too curly, my eyes were a boring brown to match..."

Shan makes a tiny sound of disgust. "Please. I came to this country with a stick-straight bowl cut myself. I never wore makeup. Come to think of it, I still don't."

"You don't have to." Kitty peered at Shan from the corner of her eye. "You have great skin." Kitty refrains from expanding the compliment. She looks like someone carved her from porcelain, it occurs to her. Her creamy skin is uncreased and unblemished. Shan is fair, her skin nearly white except for the warm beige undertones, forming a striking counterpoint to her raven-black hair, styled in a razor-cut, layered pageboy.

"I guess it's just never been my thing. I don't have a lot of time for it, and I don't want to encourage vanity in my younger sister."
"She's just about at the age where she would sneak your lipstick when you aren't looking."

"I know. God help me."

The girls finish watching the soap. Halfway through the hourglass starting to pour behind the end credits, Shan stretches as she gets up. "C'mon, Miss Brain Cells to Spare, back to the kitchen!" Kitty feigns torture as she takes Shan's proffered hand, letting her pull her up.

"You enjoy punishing me."

"Whatever! Just admit that you're having fun. It's nice to get away from computers, away from term papers, away from overcrowded libraries and science labs..."

"It would be nice to get away, except that those are the places where I'm most comfortable. I do like having a night away from 'Belles, though. I'm fine with having a night where no one's spilling beer on me or asking me to break a fifty." Kitty retrieves her apron and ties it back on. Shan pauses in picking her up, walking up behind her. "Hold on, your hair's caught."

"It'll be fine."

"Just let me fix it." Shan walks up behind her, her palm landing on Kitty's shoulder, startling her for a moment. Kitty's hands still on the oven knob as Shan gently disengages the thick, luxurious fall of hair from the apron straps. Shan's fingers are gentle, whispering across her nape as she tweaks the curls into place. Kitty sucks in a breath at the unexpected touch.

"That's better."

"Mm-hm. Thanks." Kitty's voice is slightly stiff. Her neck still tingles, not unpleasantly, and a faint flush of gooseflesh rises up on her arms.

Now why, Kitty wonders, do I feel like a goofy thirteen-year-old again? What brought this on?

The girls continue baking, rolling out the final scraps of dough just to be able to use it all. "I hate wasting anything."

"Me too. Could explain the absence of the burnt ones?"

"Yup. They were good, though." Kitty sighed, patting her stomach and stifling a burp. "Whoops. 'Scuse me."

"Surely." Shan begins squishing the remaining too-small fragments of dough into random shapes.

"Shit, whaddya call that one?"

"Don't disrespect the cookie dregs! They have feelings."

"I think we've rolled all of the feeling out of them by now."

"I can pretty it up with some sprinkles."

"Plastic surgery couldn't save that cookie."

"Could, too."

"Could not."

"Be sensitive, mean girl; it's a...a mutant cookie. Destined to be different from birth," Shan demurred. Shan pressed hot cinnamon drop candies into it, creating "eyes."

"Sure it is. Kurt's image transducer might make it prettier."

"Hey, it's edible, what more do you want???"

"Whew," Kitty huffed as she packed the last of the cooled cookies into the fancy red-and-green snowflake-printed cellophane bags and tied them off with curly ribbon. "DONE!"

"Time to stick your flag into the mountaintop."

"I think I will. I'm having some wine."

"Kitty! Silly! Wine? You actually need to anesthetize yourself? Was it that bad?"

"Maybe not, but I do feel like wine. Something tart to counteract all that sugar." Kitty opens cabinets. "Where are the glasses?"

"Up here," Shan indicates the one to the left of her refrigerator, opening it just as Kitty reaches for it. Both girls reach for the same glass, their fingertips inadvertently touching. "Oh!" Shan retreats and lets Kitty have that one. "You having any?" Shan nods. "Hey...look at this glass. I didn't know they still made these little Welch's jelly glasses."

"They don't. I bought that from a flea market back when I was setting up my apartment so my brother and sister could come here."

"I love Daffy Duck," Kitty marvels, grinning at the glass as she fills it three-quarters full.

"I have Porky Pig, too," Shan boasts, brandishing the other, her eyes dancing as she hands it to Kitty to fill.

"Well, then, Shan, now you're my hero," Kitty murmurs into her glass, taking a long, grateful draught. "Mmmmmmm. I love sauvignon blanc."
"I'm not always partial to reds. I hate merlot."

"Yuck. No kidding. Stuff's like battery acid."

"Don't insult battery acid." Shan tosses the cookie "dreglets" into the oven and drags her apron up over her head one-handed. "My ex loved merlot."

"That why you split up?" Kitty half-jokes.

"I wish. We just grew apart," Shan mutters. "I don't think she could handle all of my obligations to Xavier's school... and I told her it was a private school in Westchester, I didn't give her any further details "“ and to Leong and Nga. I'm kind of a single parent. Anyone who I love has to deal with that."

"Or, anyone who loves you should also love them, too. Which isn't hard. The twins are a riot. They make me laugh."

"They like you, too."

"Good. The last faint draft of vanilla-scented steam filled the kitchen as the girls enjoyed their wine. "God, what a mess."

"I know. I hate this part of cooking anything."

"Me, too. Kitchen might look neater if we have some more wine."

"Yup." Wine glugs into the jelly glasses. Daffy and Porky seem to be smiling more broadly now. Kitty re-wraps the stubs of leftover, half-melted butter and puts them back into the shelf in the fridge. Shan folds the sugar bag shut, promising to herself that she will pour it into the tin on the counter to keep the ants out of it.

"Kitty?"

"Yeah?"

"You probably don't want to talk about it..."

"...a statement most commonly made right before talking about the forbidden subject, but continue?"

"...but do you still miss Peter?" Kitty chokes on her wine.

"Not to sound insensitive, but which one?"

"Big Peter. The handsome that you were in love with back when I came to the school."

A heavy silence hung in the air for a few seconds. Two men, same name. Both former loves. Both complicated relationships.
And both dead.

"Yes. Every day. I loved him, even when we weren't still 'in love.' I had it pretty bad." Kitty plays with spilled sprinkles on the counter. Shan's almond-shaped black eyes are studying her intently.
"He was nice. I loved his pictures that he drew. I never had that kind of talent."

"He drew some pretty ones of Meggan before he died. He was always kind of standoffish about them whenever I admired them, though..."
"Weird."

"Yeah. I miss him, though. I miss all of him. I miss that warm, snuggly feeling of him holding me. He was built like a bear."

"You mean two bears. He was huge."

"Mm-hm. Gorgeous, though. I loved his blue eyes. 'Yana had eyes like that, too. You could just kind of stare into them all day..."

"Yeah. She did. I had to stop myself from doing that a lot of the time."

"Oh. Well. I guess someone like her would have the same kind of effect on you that Peter had on me."

"Not many people have that effect on me. I was pretty fond of her, though. I was gone by the time she passed away, I never really knew her as a child."

"She was such a joy," Kitty sighs, her eyes glistening suddenly. "She just lit up whenever someone she really liked walked into a room. She used to love my idiotic fairy tales, Shan, she would just giggle and beg me for more. She was a little ray of sunshine. So sweet..." her voice trails off as she suppresses a sniffle.

"Kit?" Shan hops down from the kitchen stool she's perched on and crosses the kitchen to Kitty, covering her long fingers with hers, pulling them away from her eyes as Kitty wipes away a small tear that is inching its way down the side of her nose. "Shit. I'm sorry. I never should have brought it up."

"S'okay. I'm just emotional."

"You have enough reason to be."

"Not today. It's Christmas Eve. It's supposed to be festive. We're supposed to be celebrating."

"Not really. You usually celebrate Hanukkah. It's your Christmas, and you can cry if you want to," Shan quips. Kitty snorts inelegantly. The girls are interrupted by the whiff of now-burnt cookie dreglets as the smoke alarm goes off.

"Oh, nooooo!" Kitty bolts from the counter, just missing landing on Shan's toes as she grabs a potholder. She's blasted back as smoke blows out from the oven once she opens it. "Ack!" She fans the smoke and makes a half-hearted grab for the sheet. "YOWTCH! HOT!" Her fingers slip loose from the edge of the potholder, coming into contact with the scorching sheet. She tosses the sheet onto the range top, cursing and sucking her fingers into her mouth. "That didn't tickle."

"No, it didn't," Shan agreed. "I know you're getting toasted, but don't take it literally. Poor little fingers," Shan croons, dragging Kitty to the sink and running the tap on cold. She holds Kitty's hand under the stream.

"Got any ointment?"

"Nope. Ointment'll just fry the burn. Cool it first." Kitty says nothing as Shan turns her hand this way and that beneath the spray, as though she were fragile. Shan quietly strokes Kitty's hand, cradling it in hers for a minute. Which stretches into two. She spreads the fingers, occasionally lifting them to admire the perfect, pink ovals of Kitty's cuticles, the delicate knuckles, and broad, fine-boned palms.

"They remind me of Doug's. Your hands."

"Gee, thanks."

"It's a compliment. He had nice hands." The water felt cool as it rushed over their hands. Shan felt a slightly sharp rush of warmth pooling in sensitive places.

"Oh."

"You do, too."

"Thanks. I think the burn's cooled now."

"It probably is." Shan strokes Kitty's palm with her fingertips, tracing the lifeline and individual striations of each joint of each finger. Kitty shudders, her nipples stiffening and straining as she shifts beneath her apron. Neither of them attempts to break the contact of their hands or turn off the water. Kitty instead explores Shan's fingers, tracing the faint veins. "Where did you get this tiny scar?"

"On the boat. When I was brought here." Shan doesn't elaborate. The feelings stirring in her belly at Kitty's closeness has her full attention. Why spoil it, she thinks. Kitty turns her palm and fits it into Shan's, lacing her fingers through hers, stroking her with her thumb.

"Yours are so tiny."

"I'm not the biggest girl in the world," she remarks, as though this explains it.

"No. You're actually just right." Kitty shuts off the tap. "No sense wasting water."

"I hate waste," Shan says dreamily, taking the potholder from Kitty's free hand, tossing it aside. She lifts their hands, intertwined, to her bee-stung pink lips and gently blows cool air on Kitty's fingertips. Kitty's nerve endings go up in flames, her eyes drifting shut as her mouth goes slightly slack.

"Uh-huh." Shan proceeds to place gossamer-light kisses on each fingertip, taking care not to chafe the singed skin.
"Better?"

"Uh-huh."

"Good." Shan's lips peruse Kitty's hand, whispering over the knuckles and tasting the satiny, damp skin. Kitty's pupils dilate and her knees begin to buckle ever so slightly.

"Much better, actually," Kitty clarifies. "You're good at that. Kissing it and making it better, I mean. I guess the twins give you practice."

"Perhaps not this way. And this isn't...something you could practice. This is...instinct." Shan draws Kitty's middle finger into her hot mouth, tracing it with the tip.

"Instinct."

"Mmmm." Shan's soft voice rumbles around Kitty's digit, engulfing it. Kitty's other hand is shaking a bit as she lifts it to loosen a strand of Shan's hair from a stray fleck of cookie dough on her cheek. She strokes the strand back into place. "Let me just clean that up." Taking a chance, barely believing it was happening, Kitty leans toward Shan and strokes her finger along the contour of Shan's jaw and nibbles the fleck of cookie dough from her skin. Shan gasps, releasing Kitty's captive finger, allowing Kitty to tease the corner of her open mouth.

"I'm a mess," Shan half-apologizes.

"You're a cute mess," Kitty reassures her. Kitty's thumb caresses Shan's mouth as her lips roam over her cheek. Shan's palm runs along the hand cupping her face.

"You're just saying that," she whispers, searching her soft brown eyes.

"Uh-uh. Am not." Kitty's lips continue to explore and taste Shan's skin until she can't stand it anymore and captures her mouth in a kiss that makes her belly quiver inside. This, Shan thinks, is not the time to disagree with her.

Kitty's hands wander through Shan's hair, stroking it, raking through it. Clutching it. The kiss begins innocently enough. There's almost no sound in the room but the drip of the faucet and the press of lips eager to taste, of garments brushing together as the two classmates give in to the embrace, eliminating the gap between them.
Shan tastes of wine and the hot cinnamon drop candies that she's been nibbling all afternoon.

Kitty's lip is dusted with the faint sheen of reddish dust from the sugar sprinkles. Shan savors it as she sucks it off.

Kitty fights her way out of her apron, chucking it onto the floor, thankful that it wasn't tangled in her hair after all. Shan pushes up against Kitty, backing her against the counter, her hands scrabbling through the spice containers. She accidentally knocks over the open box of baking powder, sending puffs of snowy powder flying everywhere. Kitty giggles into Shan's mouth, her palms flat against Shan's hot cheeks. Shan's dark eyes are drowsy but twinkling as she rests her forehead against Kitty's for a moment.

"It's warm in here."

"We already turned the oven off."

"It's still too warm in here," Shan argues. "Maybe I'm just overbundled," she suggests. A light goes on in Kitty's eyes.
"That's a definite possibility," Kitty mumbles, nipping Shan's lip, breathing steam over it. Her hands travel down Shan's arms to her tiny waist, treasuring the smooth, flat belly and perusing the texture of Shan's lightweight sweater. "I can remedy that," and Kitty pulled the hem of the lilac purple top from the waistband of Shan's frayed, acid-washed jeans. Shan shuddered as Kitty's fingertips found her heated flesh, fluttering over her belly, light as a feather. "You're so soft," Kitty marvels as she jerks Shan's sweater over her head on one smooth motion. Prickles of heat assault Shan's skin, covering her in gooseflesh. The shock of being uncovered, her body revealed to Kitty, makes her feel at once self-conscious and excited. Kitty wraps her arms around Shan's waist and pulls her close. Her enthusiasm building, Shan gives in, drinking Kitty's drugging kiss. Kitty's strong, hot palms splay across her back, caressing her endlessly. Shan kicks her sweater across the floor, and nearly trips over the floor mat as Kitty pushes her back, nearly waltzing her into the butcher block table.

"I'm still warm," Shan points out as Kitty's lips fasten themselves to her throat. "Ohhhh."

"No, sweetie. You're hot. And right now, I'm on fire!" A stray dishtowel is yanked off the table as Shan's hand scrabbles for support. Kitty's hands, those wonderful hands, pluck at Shan, finding all of the right notes. The snap on Shan's jeans pops open with a loud click before the teeth of her zipper fly apart. "God, Shan! You make me burn. What've you done to me?" Kitty's voice almost sounds helpless but still desperate.

"Nothing," Shan vows, "nothing. I swear. Please," she swallows, "don't stop touching me."

"I won't. I can't." With that, Kitty embraces Shan and hoists her onto the butcher block table. The box of cellophane wrap is knocked aside, the cardboard tube unrolling itself, unwinding the festive red plastic across the cool linoleum. Kitty wrestles with Shan's jeans, hooking her fingers through the belt loops and tugging savagely, nearly yanking Shan off her perch. Shan holds on, whooping with laughter at Kitty's triumphant grin as she brandishes the pants with a flourish before chucking them over her shoulder.

"Now, where was I?" Shan reminds her, joyfully, as she wraps her slender thighs around Kitty's ribs, raining kisses on Kitty's upturned face. It's such a pretty face, Shan muses. Doe-brown eyes fringed with curling, dark lashes that you could practically drown in. Her lips travel over Kitty's forehead, steaming her tender eyelids, before she nibbles down the length of her pert nose. Kitty's head is craned back, basking in the benediction of Shan's desire. "You were right here," Shan encourages. "And you weren't about to go anywhere."

"And I'm not about to go anywhere," Kitty repeats, in full accord. "Except, maybe second base?" Kitty's fingers trace Shan's collarbones before she kisses them, feather-light. Shan shivers deliciously. She feels Kitty's fingers moving down between her breasts, sending ticklish sparks through her nerve endings. "Someone's been naughty. This hooks in the front," Kitty chastises. Nimbly she unsnaps it, letting the cups dangle over their modest burdens, allowing her palm to rest on Shan's ribcage.

"You plan to leave coal in my stocking?" Shan's eyes smolder as she issues the challenge.

"No. I have something else in mind. And remember, Christmas isn't the same holiday to me that it is to the rest of the world. We're bending the rules, sweetie, remember?" Kitty gently peels the satin triangle cups apart. "Naughty girls get presents tonight, too." Shan's eyes clench shut under Kitty's probing gaze. "I'm unwrapping mine early."
"Some present," Shan pouts. "Mine're so small." She bunches the bra back together in her hands, covering her assets.

"Silly goose." Kitty's tone holds a note of scolding, even while her face is tender. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful. You don't sound like you're in the mood to agree with me, though." Kitty's fingers prize Shan's loose, unbending Shan's pinky and drawing it between her lips. Her tongue laps it lazily, growing familiar with her taste. Shan moans, the tension leaving her arms as Kitty then drags her tongue in between each of her fingers, darting the tip in and out of the webbing. Shan sighs in resignation as her bra straps slip down her arms. She jerks, wrapping her arms firmly around Kitty's neck as she draws Shan's café-au-lait nipple into her mouth. The boards of the table feel cool under Shan's rump, her black satin bikini panties the only barrier between them. Kitty nuzzles and suckles her, her mouth nearly engulfing the entire breast. Shan clings to Kitty, breathing in the fragrance of her shining, silky hair. She buries her face in it and reaches back to undo the ponytail holder, the bobbles clacking as she unsnaps them. The elastic snaps back, thwacking against her knuckles as the barrette flies across the room, landing on the counter. Shan guffaws for a brief moment, then moans anew as she clutches at Kitty's hair, now unbound and curling over her fingers, releasing the scent of sunshine. Kitty leaves no inch of Shan's breasts unexplored.

"God, you're mouth. I need your mouth on me. Don't stop, Pryde," she huffs.

"I can't," Kitty reassures her. "You taste too good." Shan's bare skin rubs against Kitty, still fully clad. Shan's fingernails claw at her shirt, dragging the hem loose from her sweats. She stretches her hands as far down as they will reach, kneading Kitty's firm, rounded buttocks through the fleece. Finally she allows her feet, which were resting against Kitty's lower back a moment ago, to drag Kitty's sweats down her thighs. They pooled around her knees, exposing the sinuous length of her toned legs. Kitty drew in a sharp breath at the sudden draft of cool air that hit her skin.

"I can't be the only one running around in the altogether," Shan rationalizes. "Join me."

"Oh God, yes," Kitty husks. Shan drops back to the floor and frantically yanks Kitty's emerald green, waffle knit shirt off, watching Kitty's hair tumble back to her shoulders in a rippling spill. "Shan!" Kitty's eyes grow in astonishment as Shan shucks her clothing from her, planting her tiny foot in the crotch of Kitty's sweats and dragging them the rest of the way to the floor in an acrylic puddle. Shan covers Kitty's halfhearted complaint with her mouth, swirling her tongue around hers druggingly. She distracts her while her hands work on the coffee-brown underwire bra, unhooking all three fastenings and sliding it down her toned upper arms. Shan's hands roam endlessly up and down Kitty's pliant body as she makes love to her mouth. Mounting excitement pools in Kitty's sex.

"I never knew...it would be like this," Kitty whispers. The two of them fumble and trip over the growing pile of clothes as they suddenly end up against the refrigerator door. Magnets skitter across the floor as they are knocked free. Kitty squeals in protest at the cold white polyurethane against her back, and the knobs of the remaining magnets and to-do lists mounted on the door, but ignores it amidst the rapture of Shan's assault. Shan hooks her fingers into the straps of the matching coffee-brown thong and tugs, leaving Kitty naked and thoroughly vulnerable. The press of Shan's body against hers is nearly too much to bear as they meet, belly to belly, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the kitchen, underscoring their moans and whimpers. Kitty grabs Shan's buttocks and squeezes, groping her possessively, ravaging her satin-clad flesh, before she skims her palm inside, pulling the panties away. They drift silently to the floor. Their pelvises collide and rub, building the friction and tension to its torturous peak.

"Want you," Shan cried urgently. "Want you so bad, Pryde."

"Unnnngggh," Kitty babbled incoherently. "Want you, too. Shan. So bad. So-OH! So much." Her fingers crept into the warm cleft of Shan's buttocks, stroking the tender flesh. Shan choked back a strangled gasp.

"Kitty!" She strained against her, still rubbing up against her, more deeply, more insistently. Kitty fingered Shan's perineum delicately, sending Shan up onto the balls of her feet, unable to contain herself. "Don't stop! Don't stop, I need...urrrrgh!"

"I love it when you make that sound. You're so sexy. Never knew you were so hot," Kitty pants into her neck as one hand busied itself with Shan's sweet posterior, and the other reach between them and probe the core of her heat. Shan's mound is dressed in the narrowest, neatest strip of dark curls. Kitty found her clitoral nub and stroked it, lavishing it til it was moist. She pulled her finger in and out, probing Shan more deeply, drawing out more of her dampness, making her passage slick and ready.

"NNNNGGGH! CAN'T...STAND...IT, PRYDE! NOW! NOW!" Shan's knees buckled and the two lovers collapsed onto the floor. Kitty rolled atop Shan and spread her thighs apart. "Just look at you. I have to have you, now." Kitty flicked her finger between the deep pink petals of Shan's mound and slid it deep. Shan cried out, tightening her muscles around Kitty's hand. Pleasure bounced through her womb as Kitty sought out Shan's G-spot. Louder moans tore from her throat as she found it.

"Come closer, let me touch you," Shan demanded weakly, drawing Kitty to her for a ragged kiss. Kitty complied, cajoling her. "You'll have plenty of time to touch me when I'm done." Shan nearly wept with joy at the prospect of making love to Kitty again.

Provided that the buildup to her encroaching orgasm didn't give her a heart attack first...

Kitty leaned forward and put her hands to work. Her fingers had programmed computers, reassembled motherboards and consoles, beat scoring records on arcade games all over Chicago, and flown the Blackbird. Kitty had a way with tools. Kitty had a way with weapons. They were comfortable gripping a bo staff or flinging a shuriken. They were capable of slithering loose of the tightest knots of rope when she had been bound. They even threw a mean fastball.

Going by feel, and obeying the rising intensity of Shan's cries for surcease were her hands' guides now. Shan's back arched off the floor, deciding to take the reins. She wrestles Kitty to her, knocking her off balance until she lands on Shan with a loud "Oof!"
"Told you I needed to touch you," Shan growls. Kitty's hand is still engaged in Shan's depths. Shan fondles the globe of Kitty's breast, pulling on the nipple. Kitty's mouth drops open on a groan as fire spreads across her chest.

"Bossy britches," Kitty accuses.

"Too bad." Shan's tone is unapologetic as she nibbles on Kitty's chin and returns to the pulse of her throat. "I want you to come with me."
Shan brings her thigh up between Kitty's legs, encouraging her to straddle it. Kitty rides it, polishing Shan's leg with her dripping mound as she continued to thrust her hand within Shan's core. Their lips meet, locking again as their tongues parry and plunge, as Shan's kneading and pulling Kitty's nipples reaches its inevitable fever pitch...

"Oh, God, Shan!" Shan's lip is caught between Kitty's teeth as a familiar, itchy tingling fills her, igniting her cervix. Sparks of heat spread into her breasts as the wave washes over her. "Hold me, OHHHHHHHH!" Even in the throes of her own climax, Kitty's hand never stills as her thumb plies Shan's nubbin, her fingers spreading themselves within Shan's hot depths. Shan begins to jerk and shudder under Kitty as her own orgasm grips her, shaking her to the core. A hot gush wets Kitty's hand; the lovers cling to each other, exhausted. Kitty reluctantly withdraws her hand and traces a wet path across Shan's breast, wetting the overstimulated tip. She bends down to taste the juicy morsel one more time. Shan emits a strangled whimper before pulling Kitty's head to her chest, cradling her close.
"Kitty," Shan murmurs in wonder, liking the sound of her name on her tongue. "Oh, Kitty." It's all she can manage. She absently smoothes the long brown waves of hair from her face.

"Don't...want to get up...quite yet," Kitty puffs, recovering a modicum of composure. Shan brushes some random flecks of something gritty from Kitty's back. She lifts her hands, rubbing the particles between her finger and thumb. She chuckles at the red, crystalline specks. Sprinkles. Shan thoughtfully sucks them into her mouth.
"Have to. Floor's hard." Shan mumbled. "And cold."

"I almost don't mind," Kitty hedged. "But my butt's not kissing the linoleum right now, either."

"I don't mind the linoleum so much when I have you right here where I want you," Shan reasoned. "I have a confession to make."

"We've already established that you're a real brunette."

"Quit it, Pryde." Shan's voice is tinged with laughter, anyway. "You know I've liked you for a while, right? Not just in a let's-go-to-the-mall-and-look-for-shoes way? But more of a Romeo and Juliet kind of a way? Except it's more of a Juliet-Juliet way, without the hassle of suicide and disapproving parents," she explained. She felt Kitty smile against her chest.

"I was unsure of my own feelings until now. I always thought of myself as straight," and Kitty felt Shan tense. "But that's just because all of the people I've ever fallen in love with just happened to be big, strapping males. That never meant that feeling something for someone female was out of the question." Kitty's rewarded with a gentle kiss on her brow.

"Good. Otherwise, this could be awkward."

"God, the kitchen's a mess."

"Yup."

"Me, too."

"Yup. Ditto." Kitty squirmed as Shan's hands found the plump curve of her breast again. "SHAN?!" Shan reaches for the stubs of butter that fell out of the refrigerator shelf when they knocked the door ajar. She rolls Kitty to the floor, a wicked grin twisting her mouth as she straddles her stomach, unwrapping the butter and applying the slippery, cold substance in a slick, creamy trail across Kitty's dark pink nipples. Shan reaches for the sprinkles, unscrews the cap, and sends a shower of green and red speckles of sugar crystals dancing merrily over the gleaming mounds. Shan bends forward, stretching her body along the length of Kitty's and laps at Kitty's festively decorated breasts.
"I can never quite get enough of Christmas cookies," Shan sighs.

"I could learn to love Christmas," Kitty moans in reply.