#shockingdarcy

[text] You got me a thing?

[text] Should I be concerned?

[text] Is it a good thing?

They’ve had too much eggnog. And peppermint vodka. And Drambuie, because Remy never goes on a drinking binge without whiskey. There’s been generous measures of Kahlua Gingerbread poured into the hot chocolate with the marshmallows as well as St. Remy à la Crème because they both think it’s hilarious and all too fitting that he has booze named after him. Remy and Darcy are sprawled together on the couch in front of the bottles and mountains of food, swathed in pillows and blankets with the kittens curled up and purring at their feet while It’s A Wonderful Life plays in the background.

“Oh c’mon,” Darcy argues, rolling her eyes. “I can totally outcheese you.”

“No, you can’t,” Remy objects, taking a gulp of eggnog. “You haven’t met who I work wit’. Hank an’ Bobby can kill a football field of people wit’ bad jokes.”

"But you’re too cool for that, aren’t you, Mister I Wear Sunglasses At Night?” She knows it’s to hide his mutation, but that doesn’t stop her from poking his side when he doesn’t reply victoriously. “Too cool and too old. Eat my dust, old man; I’ll show you cheesy." Giving him a sugar sweet smile, she puts a hand on his knee. "Hey angel, shouldn’t you be sitting on top of the tree?”

“Pffft," he snorted. "You’re de reason Santa even has a naughty list.”

"I’d let you join in my reindeer games any day.” Darcy leans forward precariously, swaying slightly and her hand slides down to his crotch. It’s an accident, but Remy isn’t one not to take advantage of an opportunity like that. Quickly, he shifts so that she’s between his legs and on top of him. “Mais oui, chère, dat ain’t no candy cane in my pocket. An’ while I don’t know what a nice girl like you’s doin’ on a naughty list like dis, I am so very happy t’see you," he purrs with a grin that could melt butter with a glance.

“I don’t wanna see Santa’s little helper!" she exclaims and flops on his chest, giggling helplessly as he chuckles along with her. Not seeming to mind all that much, he rests his forehead against hers. "Hey. Hold still fo’ me, okay? I’m gettin’ a real good look at what I really want fo’ Christmas.”

"When you stop callin’ me daddio.”

"I’m honestly surprised you haven’t left yet, though I’ve been pretty good about keepin’ you out of th’ crazier parts of my life."