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"Okay Grinches, here's your warning, you better find some ugly ass sweaters for my party!"
Arya made the announcement with her usual flourish, standing atop the table in the basement of her brother Robb's house, which served as the getaway area for the eldest Stark from his wife, where he could you know, be himself. Which meant where he could play video games in peace with his family and not annoy Talisa to death with the sounds gunfire as they took Call of Duty way too seriously. They were so involved in it that Arya had to scurry behind the television and unplug it, the 60-inch flatscreen instantly going dark.
"Gods Arya I almost had him!"
"What the fuck did I ever do to you!"
She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest and standing in front of the blank screen. "What did I just say?"
"Something about your stupid party," Robb complained, crawling off the couch and over to reset the gaming system and television, mumbling how he hoped it autosaved because he was not going to lose to Jon again. His voice was muffled behind the screen. "And you aren't even religious, what do you care about the holiday season? Mom making you do this stuff?"
"No, I don't have to recognize the Seven to have an excuse to throw a party celebrating the fact that some fat guy in a sleigh delivers presents to all the children for being good." She crossed her arms again. "And besides, it's an excuse for me to mock people wearing ugly sweaters and giving out prizes. Come on, it'll be fun! Gendry got Tormund to agree to bartend for it."
It was her other brother-- really her cousin's-- turn to pipe up. "It isn't hard to get Tormund to agree to pour alcohol for anyone," Jon said, grabbing the remote controller from Robb. He reached over for his beer bottle, taking a sip and smirking. "And besides you win this party every single year, so what's the fun in it?"
"The fun is that you have to come."
"Why?"
"Because Daenerys Targaryen will be there."
Robb burst into laughter and Arya smirked knowingly the second she said the name, chuckling as Jon's pale face instantly turned pink and he struggled to swallow his sip of beer. The very mention of her was enough to send him into a fit. It was getting really bad, something had to be done about his crush. Her brother threw a piece of popcorn at him. "Your crush on her has gotten epicly bad dear brother if the mention of her chokes you."
He did a terrible job of hiding his embarassment. "I don't have a crush," he mumbled.
"Oh whatever, you've just been in lovew ith her since the moment you met her." Arya pretend to think, tapping her finger to her chin. "Oh I don't know, for the last three years?"
Footsteps on the stairs broke their talk, Robb jumping up to rush over to attend to his pregnant wife. Talisa saw right through his galant attempts, scowling at the mess he'd made of the basement, popcorn and beer bottles everywhere. She waved him off. "What are you guys laughing abotu? I feel left out."
"Just making fun fo Jon for being in love with Daenerys."
"Oh yes," Talisa agreed whole-heartedly. "He has been in lovew ith her."
"I have not! I was with someone when I met her."
"And so was she, but yo both conveniently seemed to break up at the same time and have now been pussy-footing around each other for years, I'm sick of it. We all are," Arya said. She pointed a finger at Jon, grinning. "You will find an ugly sweater, you will come to my party, and you will kiss Daenerys Targaryen under the mistletoe."
The sheer pink of her brother's face was what made her so exciteda bout this party. he was such a terrible flirt in general and while it was fun to watch him make a fool of himself in front of Daenerys Targaryen, it was beginning to bore her. Most women absolutely fell over themselves, disgustingly so, around her brother. She'd heard him described in some of the grossest terms when she disappeared to the bathroom at various bars and parties. They said he was beautiful, downright pretty, handsome, and sad puppy dog I want to take home and cuddle. She gagged at the thought.
The only person who seemed unaffected by her brother's looks was Daenerys. It was fasincating. Like watching a weird animal mating session on the nature channel when those two got into orbit of each other. Jon turned into a lovesick fool who lost speech and fumbled over himself, while still remaining chivalrous and friendly. Dany on the other hand pretended that he was being completely normal, ignored every other male overture, and sometimes she messed with him, but not in a way that embarassed Jono. It was like she was trying to see how far she could get before he finally stopped playing so damn honorable.
Well this year would be different. She was sick of it. She was goign to get those two together if it was the last thing she woudl do. Stupid ugly holiday sweaters woudl break some of the tension, she hoped. She smiled again while Robb continued to rib Jon about his lack fo finesse with the silver-haired beauty of their friend group.
Talisa squinted sideways at her. "What are you playing at Arya?"
"Oh nothing. Come on, let's go find them terrible sweaters. We know they aren't going to do it."
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"So is this ugly you think?"
"Are we going with the word ugly or poor taste or just clashing?" Missandei held up a sweater she located in a bin at one of the thrift stores. It was a terrible mottled yellow color that clashed terribly with her caramel skin and rich dark hair. She made a face, throwing it into the bin and removed another, this one purple. "I quite like this."
Dany chuckled, taking out another from her size bins. All the ones she could locate weren't what she would call ugly so much as old-fashioned. She was unfamiliar with many Westerosi customs, having spent the majority of her life in Essos, where the holiday season was not really celebrated the way it was in the west, particularly in the North, where Arya and her family were from. She knew most of the season surrounded a particular Faith of the Seven holiday, but over time it had become something more fun, with colored lights, dragging trees in and decorating them, making and baking all kinds of sweets and treats, and culminating in silly parties celebrating the frivolity of sweaters.
She took out one that was decorated in tinsel, with a horrifically smiling face of the man they called Santa Claus. She hadn't experienced the joy of waking up to presents under a tree, left by Santa, so she wasn't keen on wearing the fat man on a sweater, but she held it up to Missandei. "This is ugly."
"It's horrible, but try this one."
Missandei threw her a puke-green sweater, hand-knitted by the looks of it, and when Dany held it up, her eyes widened, knowing it was the one. "Oh perfect."
"Jon Snow will still want to jump your bones in it though."
Her cheeks went hot. "Oh shut up!"
"Come on Dany, put him out of his misery already," her best friend laughed. They had become apart of the friend group of Arya Stark after she'd moved to Kings Landing from Essos for work. The Starks were the only ones who really didn't seem put off by her family's bad history in Westeros-- her father had been a corrupt politician and had rather set himself and his house on fire than go to prison-- so she had been quite happy to be accepted into their little circle when she began to frequent the bar that one of them-- Jon Snow-- worked at while he was finishing up vet school.
Now she had a fun group she hung out with most Fridays after work, visited their family's ancestral home in the North for ski trips and she would bring them down south to the house her family still had on an island off the coast. She'd even introduced Robb Stark to his wife, a friend of hers from university in Essos. All the while Jon Snow hadn't made a move on her and she was starting to wonder what the deal was.
Then again, she hadn't been sure how to act around him either. She was very confident with me. Except him. He did something to her. made her stomach flip like a stupid teen girl with her first crush. She felt so awkward when locked in the beams of his intense gray eyes. She frowned, looking at the sweater in her hands. "He isn't in misery," she murmured.
"He's in loe with you."
All she could come up with was: "Jon Snow's not in love with me."
Missandei snorted, collecting a red sweater with a bunch of cats in party hats on it, pushing her towards the checkout. "Yeah, and you're not in love with him either. Sure."
I'm not. Except she barely believed herself. She wrinkled her nose and turned her head, braids whipping over her shoulder. "I'm going to get this dumb sweater. You coming?" She didn't wait for her friend to answer before hurrying to the register, trying not to think about stupid Jon Snow. And his stupid dark curls. And his stupid smile. And his stupid gray eyes that looked like storm clouds...and his stupid love of animals and....
Oh seven hells.
She sighed. She was totally in love with Jon Snow.
If only the bloody bugger would realize it.
----------
Since Arya shared a one-room loft with her welder/artist boyfriend-not-boyfriend-depends-on-time-of-day Gendry and the last time there was a party there, Robb had gotten completely drunk and fallen off the loft to skewer his leg on a piece of one of Gendry's sculptures, he had since banned any Stark gathering over two persons (which also included alcohol) from occurring in the loft.
As Jon's apartment was about the size of a shoebox and what little room there was for a party was taken up by his giant "dog"—really a wolf but if the landlord knew he'd get evicted— Ghost. Ghost also didn't like partying. Not since again, a Stark— Arya in this case-- got completely shitfaced and tried to ride him like a horse.
So they were in Robb's house, only allowed to have the party until two in the morning, when Talisa would revert to her trauma surgeon role and start screaming them out, barking orders like they were in her OR. Since Robb only wanted to keep his pregnant wife happy, he agreed, and also was in solidarity with her, not drinking for the event. Or at least, not in her view, as Jon was sneaking him cups of spiked eggnog instead of the regular stuff. It tasted like shit anyway, Robb complained.
"Well it's your party," Jon complained, throwing back the last of his cup, making a face. He tossed it into the trash and pushed through some people he didn't know, banging on the kitchen counter where Tormund was holding court as bartender. "Whiskey."
"Dr. Crow you wait your turn; I'm getting the pretty lady a drink."
"Who?"
"I'm not a pretty lady?"
His face instantly warmed at the soft, husky voice. He hadn't recognized her, standing beside Tormund, waiting on her drink. Her normally ropy lengths of silver braids weren't in a complicated style, but were mostly unraveled, pillowing along her shoulders and tumbling to the middle of her back. Two braids pulled back from her temples and twisted at the crown of her head, held there with a bright red velvet ribbon. He gulped; her take on an "ugly sweater" was a large knee-length green thing that had three dragons knitted on the front, each one holding a card like they were caroling. The faces on the dragons were comical, with buggy eyes and goofy smiles.
She'd paired it with black tights and ankle boots that propped her up a couple more inches, but she was still a tiny thing. "Um," he hummed, trying to come up with an answer. He sighed, needing more to drink. "You look nice."
"Just nice?" she teased.
Fuck Snow, what is your problem!? "Very nice?"
"Crow you suck at this, have a drink." Tormund handed him some sort of brown liquid that had a candy cane stuck in it. He waggled his eyebrows, leering. The red sweater and red Santa cap on his head clashed so horribly with his bright red beard and wild mane of hair that Jon had to look away or else he might go blind. "It's my special holiday mix."
He sipped it carefully, almost spitting it back into the cup. Coughing, the liquid burned the inside of his mouth. Dany, of course, just smiled and sipped her drink, unaffected. "You would like this, it's like fire," he coughed.
"Well I like fire," she said, clinking her drink against his. She nodded to his sweater, smiling wide, her violet eyes glittering. Or it could have been the tinsel he now saw was woven into her braids. "Your sweater is more amusing than it is ugly."
"Arya made me wear it."
"I think it's cute."
Cute wasn't really what I was going for. "I guess." The gray, blue, and white argyle had curvy writing on the front that just said GIVE ME SNOW. A take on his last name, ha ha, so funny. He took another sip of Tormund's drink, making a face, but he no longer tasted the burning. He supposed it would do the trick. He immediately softened, remembering something from the last time they'd all met, a couple weeks before for drinks to celebrate Missandei's birthday. "Oh how is Drogon?"
Her eyes lit up again at the mention of her biggest cat. "He's doing well thank you! That food brand you recommended is doing wonders for his stomach."
"Yeah hopefully he won't be so inclined to eat a bunch of chicken bones again."
She laughed, musical. "We'll see, he's pretty dragon-like."
It was easier to talk about her cats. Maybe because he was a veterinarian. Or maybe because it wasn't really talking about her. Or him. He took another long sip of the drink at the same time as she did. They both choked through it, except it did seem to go down just a tad easier for her than him. He supposed he had to just keep drinking, so he did, another swallow and he was numb enough it actually didn’t taste too bad. He walked from the kitchen with her, but she didn’t go to join anyone else, sticking near him by the fireplace.
Well say something Snow, you stupid fuck. “Um, so…you…bring anyone here?”
Her wide violet eyes blinked for a moment and then she smiled. “Are you asking me if I brought a date to your brother’s Christmas party?”
He coughed on the “Liquid Candy Cane.” “Ah…no…yes?” Bloody idiot. Shut. Up. He swallowed more, finishing the cup and set it on the mantle, grabbing another cup from Robb, who was passing with a knowing stupid grin on his stupid face.
She giggled. The heels she wore looked dangerous and she tottered on them a bit as she stepped closer to him, still giggling and drinking. “No, I’m here with Missandei. I know I’ve been here a couple years, but I still don’t have many friends. Just you guys.”
“Sorry.”
“Sorry? Why?”
He laughed, gesturing around. “For us I guess.”
“Oh you guys are the best,” she laughed. She waved over at someone who caught her attention and made a face. “Sorry, guess Talisa invited some people from work. Have to say I absolutely hate doctors. Even though I am one.”
He frowned. “But I’m a doctor?” His face fell and he took a step away from her. “I guess…” Well it was nice while it lasted.
She went ashen faced. “Oh fuck! No, I’m sorry! Ack, fucking drink, no I mean I hate human doctors you know, so full of themselves, no dog doctors I like.” She finished her drink and tugged on his arm. “Come on, let’s get something a bit stronger.”
“Stronger than this!?” I’ll never know what I’ll end up saying to her, but… He chuckled. Might be best. “Okay, I guess.”
He managed to guzzle a little more of the shitty Tormund drink, the images of Daenerys starting to blur a bit on the edges but were still quite lovely. She has no idea how beautiful she really is, even in that stupid sweater. He reached, plucking at some lint on her sleeve, smiling down at her. She beamed up over the top of her cup. "Trust you to find a sweater with dragons," he teased.
"So where did you get this one? Very appropriate." She drawled out the words again, swaying on her heels. "Give me snow."
"No, give you Theon!"
He groaned, Theon Greyjoy, his brother's best friend, jumping in between them, wearing reindeer antlers and holding aloft a giant piece of mistletoe. "Fuck off Greyjoy."
"Snow, seriously, you haven't sealed the deal with this one yet?" Theon dangled the mistletoe over his head, leaning into Dany. "Come on Targaryen, give the Kraken a kiss!"
She sent him a look that would have most grown men running with their tail between their legs, but Theon was so drunk he didn't notice. She pursed her lips, smooching up to him. "Okay then, I'll kiss the Kraken." And she spun around, grabbing Theon's sister Yara-- who had been standing by her flirting with one of Talisa's friends-- by the upper arm and planted a noisy, over-affected kiss on his sister's lips.
The stunned expression on Jon's face was nothing compared to Theon's and even Yara's, although Yara seemed quite pleased. The woman she was flirting with did not. "Seven hells!" Theon shouted, pissed. He pushed at his sister. "You always take the ones I like!"
Dany slipped between the now warring siblings, taking his hand and pulling him away from the chaos, a smile still flirting on her lips. "Now, where were we before Theon so rudely interrupted?"
Just casually falling in love with you even more. Jon tried to push the images of proposing marriage to her then and there by having another gulp of drink. He coughed. "Um, you were saying something about my sweater?"
"Oh yes, give me snow." She finished her drink this time and pulled on his hand to the kitchen. "Missy's doing shots, I can hear her, let's go!"
----------
"So I think you won the contest because it is just bad taste to have your name on your sweater," Dany slurred, knowing she had probably had too much of the spiked eggnog, mixed with whatever Liquid Candy Cane happened to be. She had taken off her sweater-- it was so fucking hot all of a sudden-- and tied it around her hips, leaving her in the slinky black slip she'd worn underneath it and her tights.
She was using Jon's arm for support, although he may also have been using her. They were several shots of cinnamon schnapps over Missandei and Grey, her future boyfriend, or so she hoped. Grey was pacing himself far better than anyone else, if he was even drinking at all. Robb had long given up his no-alcohol pledge for Talisa and was arm-wrestling with Theon, who now sported a black eye to go with his reindeer antlers. Courtesy of asking the wrong woman for a kiss under the mistletoe. She wasn’t sure who did the honors, but she was grateful.
The liquid courage had pushed Jon a bit over and his arm was now loose around her hips, fingers burning into her side and she nuzzled against him, the wool of his sweater scratching against the skin of her bare upper chest. She wrapped her fingers into it, holding on as he leaned forward a bit, pointing with his empty shot glass. "Arya," he said. "Arya always wins."
"But it's her party, not fair!"
"Look at her sweater."
She blinked; it was quite hazy all of a sudden and she didn't think it was from the smoky fire in the grate. The party had transitioned well from people saying hello, happy holidays, and casually chatting into full on dancing-- most sweaters were gone now-- and in Arya's case, partying it up on top of the coffee table with one of the holiday ales while her sister scowled disapprovingly-- Sansa was always designated everything-- in her pink and white candy cane sweater.
Arya did a karate kick, toppling backwards and laughing as she fell into the arms of her boyfriend. Gendry had on a hideous gold sweater with a series of black reindeer on it, but it was definitely Arya's that took the cake. "Does that baby have teeth!?" she shouted, horrified at the image on the oversized garment, with ribbons, pom-poms, and sparkles covering it. There was a baby on the front with the various members of the Seven looking down on it, each one more horrifying that the last.
He snorted beside her. "Her grandmother got it for her I think. She always wins."
"Gods that's terrifying."
"Another shot to forget the image?"
"Yes please!" She finally noticed that Robb had thrown off his sweater with wolves wearing holiday hats on it and even Sansa's candy cane sweater was cute rather than ugly. It seemed only Arya had lived up to the true challenge of the party. She just thought Jon's was funny.
Sansa sidled up beside them, grabbing a bottle of water. "You both should slow down," she advised. "I think Tormund just emptied all the leftover liquor into the bowl."
"Your sweater isn't ugly!' she shouted instead, stomping her foot. Jon winced-- she must have gotten him with her heel. She leaned over him, pointing at the swirling pink designs. "It's cute!"
"I am a fashion designer, I cannot abide by wearing an ugly sweater," Sansa sniffed. She pointed at Jon's. "Yours isn't even ugly, it's just a bad joke."
"It's cute, let me wear it."
They both stumbled away from the counter of mostly empty liquor, shot glasses abandoned in favor of just dipping cups into what was left in the bowl. She tripped, spilling some down her front and made a face. Ever the gentlemen, her savior removed his sweater, tugging it down over her and grinned. "There, now you're decent," he slurred, blinking owlishly at her.
It was all rather sudden, she thought, reaching to tug on the front of his tight white t-shirt which he'd been wearing beneath the sweater. it was slightly damp with sweat, but she didn't care, her mind cloudy from alcohol, lust, and finally being as close to him as she happened to be. "You like me," she teased.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. "Yes," he answered.
"Hmm, that's the most truthful I think you've ever been with me."
"You're something else Daenerys."
It was like the twinkle lights hanging over them in the doorway were suddenly haloing him, his dark curls escaping from the confines of his hair tie. She licked her lips, suddenly thirsty. And not for the eggnog. A movement pulled her attention from him and she followed his finger, which was now pointed above her, her eyes rolling back just enough to see the mistletoe that someone was holding over their heads. "Kiss!" Tormund shouted, a chorus of people cheering in.
The smile on his lips was enough to warm her further, her mouth falling open in surprise as Jon Snow suddenly grabbed her by her hips, lifting her clear off the floor.
----------
"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
"What is going on over there?" Gendry wondered, the room suddenly filled with people's demands for someone to kiss.
Couldn't be Theon, Arya thought, pushing away from her boyfriend, who still helped her a bit as she tripped over sweaters that people had shed in the heat of the small house. She pushed by a couple, with a loud order to "Move, you bloody fools!" She grabbed hold of Robb, who was laughing, his arm around Talisa, who was simply grinning. "What's going on?"
She blinked, stunned, seeing Tormund waving the stick with Theon's mistletoe on it over the head of her brother and Daenerys Targaryen. Somehow her brother had lost his sweater, which was on Dany, and both of them were well into shitfaced land. It didn't matter though, because before she knew it, her awkward-as-fuck brother who was so in love with Dany it wasn't funny but was too nervous to make the first move-- he was so honorable in that regard it was annoying-- grabbed the tiny woman by her waist and hauled her up, smacking a kiss to her lips.
It was supposed to be just a kiss, she figured, because Jon was setting her back down when suddenly he was kissing her again and Dany was snaking around him like a vine on a tree. "Seven hells!" she exclaimed.
"About time!" Missandei shouted, throwing tinsel on them.
They separated, laughing as the rest of the crowd cheered, but not for long, because Arya was gaping again as they kissed once more. She saw hands-- Dany's she thought-- sliding under Jon's shirt. "Alright, alright, get a room!" Robb yelled, pushing them apart. He was mostly sober now, shaking his head. "You guys seriously. This is my house!"
There was no mistaking the looks that she was seeing between her brother and Dany and curses to her other brother for stopping it. "Well Dany that's a new sweater you have," she commented.
The woman pulled at the hem, smiling as she read it. "Give me snow!" she shouted, leaning over and grabbing hold of Jon again, who grinned and kissed her once more. She sighed, sagging against him, her ankles almost giving out in her high heels. "Hi Snow."
"Hi Targaryen."
"You both are disgusting," Sansa muttered, stalking off. Arya hoped it was to find Theon. She was acting jealous all night of her brother's friend. Those two needed to kiss and just be done with it.
Robb was ordering them an Uber, while Missandei and Talisa chuckled behind their bottles of water. She sidled up to them, smiling and bumping her fist against Missandei's. Talisa frowned, wagging her finger at them. "What's that about?"
"It's the holidays," Missandei said. She smiled knowingly. "Whatever happens later happens later." They watched as Robb and Tormund got the drunk couple—who couldn't seem to stop kissing—out of the house and to wherever the car was that would take them hopefully to Jon's house. Arya didn't think Dany's sleek modern condo would be a safe place for them. Too many sharp edges and chrome spaces.
She smiled at her sister-in-law, who still didn't seem to understand. "Who knew getting them drunk and sticking them in ugly sweaters would finally get them together," Talisa wondered out loud. She tugged at her t-shirt-- she'd lost her sweater as well-- which was tight across her belly. "And did someone turn the heat up? Honestly, I know I'm from Essos but this is a bit much."
"Oh yeah, sorry about that sweetie," Robb said, rushing to the thermostat to check. He waved his hand on his face, chuckling and nudging into her. "Had to do what we had to do."
"And what was that?" Gendry wondered.
Arya kissed his cheek. "Holiday magic. Or what happens when two attractive people who are head over heels for each other but are too stupid to realize it."
"And what is that?"
"Like I said, holiday magic." She spun in a circle, waving her hands in the air and rushing back into the living room. "By the way, I won the ugly sweater contest!"
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Next Morning
Dany woke with a start, lying in an unfamiliar bed. She coughed; her mouth felt like there was a sock in it. She pushed her hair-- the braids had come undone and tangled around her hair like a messy crown-- from her eyes and sat back on her elbows. She plucked at the itchy material she wore. It was a sweater. "Give me snow," she mumbled, reading it upside down. Oh gods my head is killing me.
She looked sideways, realizing with horror she wasn't alone. She jumped backwards, grabbing the edge of the bed to keep from falling off, staring at Jon Fucking Snow. He was lying on his stomach, a sweater pulled on one arm, but the rest of his upper torso was bare. She licked her lips at the sight of pale skin stretched taught over sinewy muscle. her finger darted out, lightly touching one of the bumps of his spine and he shivered, shifting a bit. She felt relief when she saw he still wore boxers.
They had dogs on them. So fucking adorable this man. She leaned over him, checking to make sure he was still breathing. He was, also lightly snoring, his curly hair over his cheek as he burrowed into the pillow when she moved a bit more. "Ghost go away," he mumbled.
"I'm slightly offended you think I'm your wolf."
His eyes sprang open and he jumped back, yelping in tandem with her. She rubbed her eyes, the sound hurting her head. Like icicles in her brain. "Fuck Dany!" He immediately lifted the sheets, shoulders sagging in relief. "Oh thank the gods. We're both dressed."
She wrinkled her nose. "That upsets you?"
"No, I mean..." He winced at the bright light coming in from the half-opened window shades and stood, stumbling sideways to knock them down fully, the room darkening a bit more. To their mutual relief. He sank back onto the bed, blinking and waking a bit more. He sighed, swinging his feet back onto the bed and sat beside her, leaning against the headboard. He glanced at her sweater. "You're wearing my sweater."
"I think I am. You have on mine."
"What happened last night?"
"Best I can gather we had a lot to drink and..." Her cheeks went pink. She mumbled. "Mistletoe."
He glanced sideways, smiling slightly. "Yeah...mistletoe."
"And shots."
"And Liquid Candy Cane."
They kept silent for a few minutes. He reached his hand over, sliding his fingers into hers, twisting them for a moment before he spoke, quiet. "I probably owe you a proper date before this."
"Before what?" Before she knew it he was kissing her. This time she was fully aware of what was happening, moaning softly as he pushed her backwards into the pillows. She'd removed her slip at some point and was grateful for the freedom so she could wrap her legs around his waist, sighing in pleasure as he gathered her up in his arms, sitting back slightly. She used the leverage she now had to pin him backwards, straddling his hips, before breaking the kiss, grinning.
He grinned up. "Hi Targaryen."
She beamed down at him, thoroughly pleased. "Hi Snow."
"What took me so long and why did I have to be drunk?"
"Got me."
"Remind me to thank and kill my sister."
She giggled, wiggling in his lap and reaching for the hem of the sweater, smiling knowingly. "Give me snow."
He leaned up, snagging her for another kiss. "Gladly."
THE END