No one can decide if it’s surprising or typical that Kenzi is rampantly anti-Christmas.
Actually, for the Fae at least, it’s a refreshing change from being surrounded by humans with no idea what they were really celebrating. Trick could list the inaccuracies of the Christmas holiday ‘tradition’ until he was blue in the face (and he will if asked so, you know, don’t), hell, he can’t even think about Christmas without turning into some kind of very Fae Scrooge.
Kenzi on the other hand just scowls at all the decorations and blasts heavy metal on her iPod to drown out the over played carols blasting out of every store and restaurant in the city. Bo had suggested that they might want to decorate, maybe even get a tree, but the look of pure evil she got in answer quickly nixed that idea.
The Dál Riata was decked out for Yule which, to an unknowing human probably looked a lot like Christmas, but there was enough of a sense of weight, of tradition, that Kenzi just blinked at all the greenery and shrugged. She might have sass in abundance, but Kenzi knows when to show the appropriate respect.
“Barkeep!” She pounded her little fist on the bar, winking at Trick when he shot her a dirty look. “I’ll have a glass of your best liquor, and hold the Ho Ho Ho.”
“Someone’s in a bit of a mood.” Dyson laughed from behind her, sliding onto a stool and saluting her with his beer. “Not feeling the holiday spirit Kenz?”
“Urgh,” She groaned, taking the drink Trick poured and tossing it back in one long swallow. “I hate Christmas.”
“Really?” It had been Dyson’s experience that humans loved an excuse to celebrate and shop and do pretty much everything to excess.
“I had a family once, fucking Christmas ruins everything.” She slurred slightly
“What was that?” Dyson demanded, taking the empty glass form her hand.
“Old, old family recipe.” Trick shared a wide-eyed look with Dyson as Kenzi sprawled against the bar and smiled beatifically at them both. “Potent stuff.”
“S’nice.” She assured him, reaching out and petting his arm. “Warm now.”
“Kenzi,” Dyson spoke slowly, “you feeling alright sweetheart?”
“M’great.” She nodded, slipping forward on her stool and nearly landing in his lap. “S’good shit.”
“Yeah.” Dyson looked over at Trick, who shrugged. “I’m gonna take you home now okay?”
Kenzi tried to walk, she did, but even her ability to stand failed her under the onslaught of Trick’s very potent family brew. Dyson huffed out a laugh and swung her small weight into his arms, only startling when she nuzzled into his chest and apparently passed out cold.
Bo was out, a new case for a Dark Fae so he was keeping his distance, and Dyson couldn’t leave Kenzi alone when she couldn’t take care of herself, so it made sense to help her to bed. Those damn boots of hers, all laces and hooks, took some working, but the rest of her layers peeled away easily enough.
She wasn’t wearing a bra.
It was surprising, all that pale skin with only the deep indigo of her panties and the dark fall of her hair to break it up. His fingers itched to see if she was as soft as she looked, if her flesh would give under his hands or if the sharp angle of her bones would keep him away.
“Dyson?” Kenzi blinked up at him, mostly naked and sprawled ungainly across her bed in a way that should not have been as inviting as it seemed. “S’goin on?”
“Nothing,” he pulled the comforter out from under her feet and pulled it gently up to her shoulders. “Go to sleep.”
The next morning, feeling very much like a freight train had driven over her head, Kenzi woke up in a panic. She didn’t sleep naked, or near enough, and while her sheets might have been clean they were still cheap and a little scratchy against her skin.
That’s when she saw it. Sitting innocently on her nightstand.
A candy cane with a little red ribbon tied in a bow with an impossibly tiny tag attached. Tearing off the cellophane and stuffing the offensive treat in her mouth, Kenzi considered the note:
Reaching for her phone (tucked in her pants which were folded neatly on the chair and what the hell was that about?) she sent him a text.
Merry Fucking Ho Ho Ho
Maybe, this year, Christmas wouldn’t be so bad.