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“I do not understand the point.”
“The point is it’s pretty. And less likely to kill someone.”
“The real thing is hardly likely to kill someone.”
“Dude have you ever seen the news? People’s houses burn down all the time!”
“My understanding was that those fires were a result of carelessness. And even so, if there is so much concern over the danger, why choose one that that produces no heat nor provides light? Would it not be the same to not have one at all?”
Darcy sighed and muted the TV, stopping the sound of Christmas music playing over the burning log channel. “It’s about tradition and, I don’t know, coziness. People think you should have a fire at Christmas but they don’t want to actually have one or don’t have a fire place or whatever, so they turn on the TV and bam. Traditional Christmas.”
“Midgardian customs are truly incomprehensible.”
The two of them were cuddled up on a couch, Darcy performing her sworn duty as Little Spoon to Sif’s Big Spoon. Darcy had made Sif sit through her annual Die Hard watch-through (truly the best Christmas tradition), and mindless channel surfing afterwards had landed Darcy on the Burning Log channel.
Darcy dropped the remote and rolled over to face Sif. “Your customs are just as weird.”
“We do not require fictional fires to make us comfortable.”
“No, but you smash cups just for fun. God, being a waitress where you’re from must suck.”
“That is hardly a confusing custom. It is a way of complementing a host.”
“By destroying his stuff?”
“By loudly proclaiming his aptitude for selecting enjoyable beverages.”
“By destroying his stuff.”
“It is expected that cups will be smashed when hosting a gathering of that nature.”
“And it’s expected that people have a nice cozy fire for Christmas!”
“From your explanations of the holiday, I do not understand why a fire is a necessity. And there is nothing cozy about an image in a box.”
Darcy rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real fire at Christmas, and I like it.” She barely managed to suppress the urge to stick out her tongue.
“You have never celebrated with a real fire?”
“Nope. Never lived anywhere with a fire place. My mom had a VHS of this that she’d play every Christmas though.”
“Ahhh.” Sif smiled as if she understood.
“Ahhhh what?”
“It is nostalgia that compels you.”
“Compels me? Chill out there, old priest.”
“Excuse me?”
Darcy shook her head. “Never mind. Do you guys have fires everywhere in space?”
Sif nodded. “Of course. Every home has one.”
Darcy cuddled closer, pulling the blanket tighter around them. “That must be nice.”
“It is.”
“Cozy?”
Sif smiled and nodded. “Yes, that is a good term for it.”
“You know,” Darcy began, smiling lecherously, “here on Earth we have a…. trope, I guess. Having sex in front of a fire is supposed to be, like, one of the sexiest things you can do.”
“Is… that so?”
Darcy nodded solemnly. “There’s an entire subsection of romance novels dedicated to the idea. Usually it happens on a bearskin rug or something.”
“Well,” Sif smiled and leaned in to kiss Darcy’s neck, “perhaps someday, you can accompany me back to Asgard, and you can experience it for yourself.
Darcy grinned. “Really?”
Sif nodded. “I would be happy to introduce you to the experience.”
“Well, I look forward to it.” She leaned in and gave Sif a brief kiss, but quickly pulled back. “Fair warning though, if anyone calls me a goat I cannot be held responsible for my actions.”
Sif laughed. “I assure you, I will make sure no one dares insult you in such a way.” She leaned in and kissed Darcy again. “But for now, perhaps you would like to practice, with the fire more familiar to you.”
Darcy glanced back at the TV and grinned. “Well, it is probably best to go into this experienced.”
Sif nodded solemnly. “That is of the utmost importance.”
Darcy laughed and grabbed Sif, rolling them both off the couch and onto the floor with an ‘oomf.’ “So, let’s practice.”